Datlow, Ellen (ed) - Mythic Fiction / Датлоу, Эллен (ред) - "Мифы и легенды" [2009-2010, EPUB, ENG]

Preface by Ellen Datlow and Terri Windling Introduction by Terri Windling One Odd Shoe by Pat Murphy Coyote Woman by Carolyn Dunn Wagers of Gold Mountain by Steve Berman The Listeners by Nina Kiriki Hoffman Realer Than You by Christopher Barzak The Fiddler of Bayou Teche by Delia Sherman A Tale for the Short Days by Richard Bowes Friday Night at St. Cecilia's by Ellen Klages The Fortune-Teller by Patricia A. McKillip How Raven Made His Bride by Theodora Goss Crow Roads by Charles de Lint The Chamber Music of Animals by Katherine Vaz Uncle Bob Visits by Caroline Stevermer Uncle Tompa by Midori Snyder Cat of the World by Michael Cadnum Honored Guest by Ellen Kushner Always the Same Story by Elizabeth E. Wein The Senorita and the Cactus Thorn by Kim Antieau Black Rock Blues by Will Shetterly The Constable of Abal / Констебль из Абала by Kelly Link A Reversal of Fortune by Holly Black God Clown by Carol Emshwiller The Other Labyrinth by Jedediah Berry The Dreaming Wind / Вихрь сновидений by Jeffrey Ford Kwaku Anansi Walks the World's Web by Jane Yolen The Evolution of Trickster Stories Among the Dogs of North Park After the Change by Kij Johnson

Preface by Ellen Datlow and Terri Windling Introduction by Terri Windling Island Lake / Остров на озере by E. Catherine Tobler The Puma's Daughter / Дочь пумы by Tanith Lee Map of Seventeen / Карта семнадцать лет by Christopher Barzak The Selkie Speaks / Говорит селки by Delia Sherman Bear's Bride / Невеста медведя by Johanna Sinisalo The Abominable Child's Tale / Сказка об ужасном ребёнке by Carol Emshwiller The Hikikomori / Хикикомори by Hiromi Goto The Comeuppance of Creegus Maxin / Заслуженное наказание Кригуса Максина by Gregory Frost Ganesha / Ганеша by Jeffrey Ford The Elephant's Bride / Жена слона by Jane Yolen The Children of Cadmus / Дети Кадма by Ellen Kushner The White Doe: Three Poems / Белая косуля: три стихотворения by Jeannine Hall Gailey Coyote and Valorosa / Койот и Валороза by Terra L. Gearhart-Serna One Thin Dime / Медный грош by Stewart Moore The Monkey Bride / Обезьяна-невеста by Midori Snyder Pishaach / Пишах by Shweta Narayan The Salamander Fire / Огонь саламандры by Marly Youmans The Margay's Children / Дети марги by Richard Bowes Thimbleriggery and Fledglings / Наперсточник и пернатые by Steve Berman The Flock / Стая by Lucius Shepard The Children of the Shark God / Дети Акульего бога by Peter S. Beagle Rosina / Розина by Nan Fry

  Each and every year, in that brief time when summer and autumn share the same bed—the former, sunburned and exhausted, drifting toward sleep, the latter, rousing to the crickets’ call and the gentle brush of the first falling leaves against its face—the Dreaming Wind swept down from somewhere in the distant north, heading somewhere to the distant south, leaving everywhere in its wake incontrovertible proof of the impossible. Our town, like the others lying directly in the great gale’s path, was not exempt from the bizarre changes wrought by its passing. We prepared ourselves as best we could, namely in our hearts and minds, for there was no place to hide from it, even though you might crawl into the crawl space beneath your house and pull a blanket over your head. No manner of boarding windows, stuffing towels beneath the doors, turning out the lights, or jumping into a lead-lined coffin and pulling shut the lid made a whit’s worth of difference. Somehow it always found you and had its crazy way. So it was that each year, often on a deep blue afternoon in late August or early September, some of us noticed the leaves in the trees begin to rustle and heard amid their branches, just a whisper at first, the sound of running water. Then we knew to warn the others. “The Wind, the Wind” was the cry throughout the streets of town, and Hank Garrett, our constable, climbed up to the platform on the roof of his house and turned the crank-handle siren to alert farmers out in the fields of the valley that the blowing chaos was on its way. The citizens of Lipara scurried home, powerless to effect any protection, but determined to share the burden of strangeness with loved ones and bolster the faith of the young that it wouldn’t last forever. . . .

Once there was a village on an island that belonged to the Shark God. Every man in the village was a fisherman, and the women cooked their catch and mended their nets and painted their little boats. And because that island was sacred to him, the Shark God saw to it that there were always fish to be caught, and seals as well, in the waters beyond the coral reef, and protected the village from the great gray typhoons that came every year to flood other lagoons and blow down the trees and the huts of other islands. Therefore the children of the village grew fat and strong, and the women were beautiful and strong, and the fishermen were strong and high-hearted even when they were old. In return for his benevolence the Shark God asked little from his people: only tribute of a single goat at the turn of each year. To the accompaniment of music and prayers, and with a wreath of plaited fresh flowers around its neck, it would be tethered in the lagoon at moonrise. Morning would find it gone, flower petals floating on the water, and the Shark God never seen—never in that form, anyway. Now the Shark God could alter his shape as he pleased, like any god, but he never showed himself on land more than once in a generation. When he did, he was most often known to appear as a handsome young man, light-footed and charming. Only one woman ever recognized the divinity hiding behind the human mask. Her name was Mirali, and this tale is what is known about her, and about her children. . . .