There was a bunch of excited novices crowding around the student. Rogneda, pale, with glazed eyes, in which the horror clearly splashed, sat, clinging to the wall.
I squeezed against her, looked into her face.
- Neda," I called her by her childhood nickname, "Neda... what happened? Can you hear me?
Rogneda woke up as if she had dug out of the water, grabbed my hand, and her palm hurt.
- It was her, it was her!!! Golden blossom! She was standing here, in a white dress, with slimy scuffles on her face, and water dripping from her hair... and leeches coming out of her mouth...!!
The novices shrieked together and looked around in fear.
- And what she wanted," I asked, leaning on my hand. Rogneda clenched it as if she wanted to break it.
- The brooch," poor Rogneda sobbed, "is the brooch I have left when she drowned. Well, don't throw it away! I didn't know at the time it would be in that pond! And she's standing there and she says give me the brooch! I want to pin it on my dress! Why would she want a brooch, a drowned woman!!!
The end of the phrase the girl wheezed, madly turning her eyes and seems to be going to faint again.
- That's creepy," someone exhaled behind my shoulder. At the end of the corridor my shoes caught and I heard Aristarchus' loud voice, speaking of the sinners and the punishment we all deserve.
I hurried to pull my palm out of my vice and get away from the soul-saving sermons. Rogneda stayed quiet on the stone floor.
There was no Danina in the herbalist's room where I looked, sleeping quietly on Ksen's couch. I took off my dusty black dress and rinsed quickly over my cold water couch. My feet were covered in bloody knockoffs, but when I washed them off, no wounds were found. The pale skin was perfectly intact. I glanced back at the door, pushed the latch, and quickly saw myself. There were no wounds, no abrasions, no bruises. Even the scars were all gone! I had plenty of them, the mentors didn't take much care of our hides! I think I've never been so healthy in my life!
It's a pity that mirrors are not allowed in the shelter, for the first time in my life I wanted to look at myself carefully.
I hurriedly wiped my canvas and pulled my student dress over my slightly wet body. Soon I wrapped the braid over it. Wow, even my hair, previously hard and dry, became soft and smooth! My girlfriend never woke up during my bathing, but turned over to the other side. I threw some firewood into the cold fireplace and thought.
The ring was on my finger again. A golden snake with a clearly recognizable triangular head and green eye pebbles, all spirally densely covered in symbols like scales. Now it didn't look at all like the dull iron that I had before I put it on my finger. Before it bit me.
I put my finger to my eyes. That's right, two little punctures, like a needle with a drop of blood frozen in the wound. The only wounds left on my body. So I didn't see it coming. And the worst part is, the ring wasn't removed. What I wasn't doing was standing there with my hand upside down, rubbing ashes, gently pulling, almost ripping my finger off, it was useless. The golden snake did not sting, but to get off a finger categorically refused, sat like a stitched up!
As a result, I spat, wrapped my finger with a rag to hide it from prying eyes and went to lunch.
The refectory was full of excitement. Something interesting didn't happen so often in the life of the orphanages, and what had happened to Rogneda was discussed with smell, breath and frightened screams. Even the speech of God, who forbade the discussion and wrote everything off as "fatigue from excessive zeal in the field of study and godliness" did not have a proper effect. Neither did God herself, who was strangely confused and shuddering, further inflamed our fears and speculations.
I took a bowl of mushroom bread from the devil's woman and sat down at the far table. The novices stayed away from me, looking out for me with fear. It seemed to tell everyone that there was no rottenness, but still scary. And I didn't impose my company on anybody. I sat quietly in the corner and baked liquid soup, eating dry food.
At the next table there were younger girls, ten to twelve years old. They sat, like me, separately and whispered, bowing their heads. I couldn't help but listen.
- I must say," said the weeping girl, "I must tell Mistress Beaujolais.
- Silly, you cannot tell anyone! - You heard what Mistress said," said the other one, "and this graduate thought it all! And if we tell her, they'll call us liars! Do you remember how liars are punished? You want them to put us in the basement again, with the rats?
- Oh, no! - The chicken-nose slammed her nose when she got scared. But we didn't think so, Roxy! I mean, we talked to her! We even talked to her twice! We didn't see anything!
- Nobody's gonna believe this, sister! Nobody's gonna believe us, just make it worse. Did you see what kind of mentors are hardened steel? Mistress Bronegoda was whipping her fingers in her handwriting class and whipping them on peas like she was off the chain. And Zaglada made all the "instruction to the youth from the holy elder Dimitrov" by tomorrow to learn, and there the letters ... in a week would have managed! And who will not cope, threatens to send to the "enchanted" chapel, from the raven's droppings to wash the stairs, and everyone knows that there are impious spirits shawling! There, you see, the graduate sits behind us, all gray, it was her in that chapel that night, as a punishment for disobedience! Do you want to become the same?
I hummed my fist. Yeah, I didn't know I scared the kids.
- But we talked to her... - the chickenhead whined drearily, - maybe she'll come to us again? I miss her so much, our Lana...
- Keep your voice down! - Pulled on Sister Roxy and whispered so quietly, I couldn't understand the words.
I took the empty bowl to the maiden, reminded her to take the double lunch to the herbalist's room, and nodded at the sisters.
- Who are these girls? I haven't seen them here before.
- What's it like," she said, wondering, "aren't the sisters the way they are? There used to be three of them, so died that year the third one, from decay and died. It was fun, Lana clicked... then the sisters cried, cried!
- Oh, yeah, that's right," I smiled. - Girls grow up so fast, they change... I didn't know.
And turning my back on the distrustful look of the dwarf, I came out of the refectory.
Talking sisters pushed me to one thought, and since I'm still free from school, I decided to visit that very "enchanted" chapel.
* * *
As a child we were also frightened by the fears of the awful spirit that dwells in an abandoned chapel near the spruce tree. In this place the stone fence collapsed from the weather a couple of years ago, and it was never restored. Behind the fence there were thorny bushes of juniper and wild lynx, then the impassable spruce wood began, behind which there were dangerous poplars and swamps. The only way to reach Riverstein from this side was by a narrow path, and if you know where it is.
With the hood and scarf on, I went straight to the chapel. Xenia didn't like this place. She said she wasn't comfortable here, but I liked the chapel. Especially because it was empty and quiet, you could hide from the curious eyes of novices and disgruntled mentors. To sit in silence on worn-out stone steps, to turn a heap of fallen leaves and dry needles with my foot, to think.
Sitting outside today was too cold and I went inside. Behind an empty ritual bowl stood an old bench, and a pile of rags and straw piled up by the gatekeeper about the supply. I stopped at the door, waiting for my eyes to get used to the shade, and moved carefully toward the shop.
A dim light oozed through the holes in the half-ruined roof, illuminating the frayed altar with a candle hollow, and a worn-out, almost indistinguishable mural depicting a scene from the life of the holy elders. A bizarre shade of light weaved an intricate pattern on the floor like a spider web.
And then a pile of rags started to move.
Slowly, as if pondering, the rotten rags stretched upwards, crumbling down with rotten and rotten straw, the old puzzled tulip, swinging in a dim light, lifted up
and pulled the empty sleeves to me...
- Vetrayaaaa...
I shrieked, in an instant I pulled my shoe off my leg and threw it into a revived ghost.
- Ah! - shouting the ghost bass, - are you crazy, you fool??? That hurt!
And Danila came out of a pile of rags, spitefully rubbing her right eye and mowing at me with her left.
- Ooh... there's going to be a bruise! What are you doing? How am I gonna show my mom now, with a black eye? She's gonna torture me, think I'm in a fight with the villagers again!
I stared at him confusedly, squeezing a cold foot with no shoe on.
- What are you hiding here for?
- Some guy was walking by with his hooves rustling. I buried myself in the straw, so he wouldn't catch me, and I wouldn't pull my ears off.
- That's not a dick, that's our gatekeeper. And give me the shoe. It's cold.
I gave Danila's shoe back, but he wouldn't stop looking at it.
- Why did you come here in the first place?
- I mean, why did you come here in the first place? You're the one who called me here!
- Did I? Did I call you? When???
- What did you forget? - The guy was staring at me suspiciously, and she said you'd wait for me at the chapel dinner party, near the spruce tree!
I shook my head. In his performance it sounded as if I had asked him out on a secret date!
- Okay, don't frown. Here, put a bear on your eye so it doesn't bruise. Let's go to the shop, just keep your voice down, in case the gatekeeper passes by. He's gonna think we're messing around.
Danila's in a painful blush, and he's on fire from neck to ear like a street light. I was curious to see this unseen sight. I've never seen a guy blush like that before. Like a shameful girl in front of a matchmaker. Although, like I said, I don't have much experience with guys. I mean, not at all.
- It's painful... debauchery with you! In your dreams! - He burst into tears.
- And I wasn't going to," I stretched out a little bit offended and took my bear. So let him walk with a fingal, if he's so picky.
- That's what I wanted... to talk to you.
- Well, tell me if you wanted to. - I burst into tears.
The guy wrinkled, not knowing where to start. I looked at the wall thoughtfully. Then I took a breath.
- Okay, tell me. How long have you been hearing the call?
The guy shuddered, tensed up, then shouldered, bored like an old man.
- Two weeks," he exhaled, "for two whole weeks now...
- And I've been for almost three months. - I said.
The first time I heard the call was in the middle of summer.
This year, it was a rare hot, stuffy one. It's been a hundred years since old-timers remembered in our harsh northern regions. The air above the fields was dry, crackling, threatening to burst into flames on dry grasses. From the bogs it was pulling shade and a heavy rotten spirit. The cows were lying lazily in the shade, not coming out into the sunshine of the pasture, roaring pitifully from the gadflies and gnats that surrounded them. In Heather Heath the inhabitants poured water from the forest stream on their houses every day for fear of fire. By the middle of the brook's flower the brook had dried up. Even evergreen pines yellowed and watered with their hanging paws.
Stony Riverstein stubbornly kept almost all the flowers cool, eagerly fighting for the chill as if a tired knight for a maiden. But by the end of the month he had surrendered, and the hot stuffiness of the host crawled into his corridors and halls.
The novices slept on the floor. The straw mattresses were mercilessly heated under hot bodies. The windows had to be closed. A humming cloud of mosquitoes rushed into the open sash, which had to be smoked, lighting the spruce branches, and then the room became completely unbearable.
Xenia gave us a place by the window, and we stretched out on a blanket, trying to sleep.
That night I heard the Call for the first time. It was long, tearful, penetrating into the soul and settling in it with natural fear. He twists his mind, forcing submission without accepting rejection, enslaving. The call becomes the master of thoughts, the lord of feelings, the master and master, who cannot be disobeyed. He does not call," he commands.
I woke up in terror, grabbing the air out of my mouth like from a bog. I looked at Xenia, who had been swept away by the heat, and felt the shivers of ice.
There were always those in the Northern Kingdom who heard the Call. It's our curse for our ancestors' sins, a terrible payback. It is impossible to resist the Call, no matter how hard you try, one day you will break and still go where he calls. To the terrible Black Earth, where the bloody masses of damned sorcerers are held.
The souls of the children who left the Order were subject to separation from the Order, because they were considered to be accomplices of the blacklings and obscurantist. The scriptures stated that children should not be "let in", locked in cellars, hide, and it is best to burn, in order to prevent sin. To the heap, as well as the fear of demons, it is desirable to burn and relatives, and if for some reason, a child who went on the call will come back, the sacred fire was supposed to give the whole village, as a monastery of sin.
Therefore, if there was a child in the family, who left on the call, the parents hid it, preferred to talk, saying that the bear took the child, or to distant relatives to study went. Although no one believed in it.
It's not customary to talk about the Call, so you don't nag. Even a word is better not to call it, so as not to hear the monsters of the Black lands.
Well, I didn't say it. And neither did Danila.
We looked over, sad and understanding.
- Mom said I was training as a herbalist. When I'm out of my mind, let her think I'm going to Starover to be a student.
- So it will wait," I grieved.
- It will be.
We were silent.
- Do you think it's true that the Call leads to the Blacklands," Daniel whispered, "and damned sorcerers are waiting for us there for their terrible deeds?
- I think the world is not what we used to think it is. It's not like the Order says," said the blasphemous thought, "by the way, I haven't heard the call in days.
- Neither have I!" Daniel rejoiced. - I even got some sleep last night. He hadn't slept half the night, he was afraid, and he hadn't noticed himself falling asleep. And I woke up when the roosters started singing. And nothing... there was no Zova!
- That's right! So, maybe it slipped through. We don't know how it happens. Someone might call, maybe call, maybe don't call, maybe don't call, maybe don't... get off!
Danila even got excited, looked at me with her eyes sparkling in the dark.
- Leave me alone! - he exhaled and waved his fist at the invisible call.
- Here I am... he'll get it from me! Or rather, he'll get it, not me!
I sprayed with laughter. Danila laughed, too. He had a good, open smile, making him a boy.
- Tell me what you know about the missing children, I was serious. - I think it has something to do with... that. Although they do leave in the daytime, they also disappear into unknown places, don't they?
The guy's joy, the way he took off with his hand.
- I don't know anything," he said deafly, "nothing... but...
- What? Just what?
- I'm having them. I see them sitting in some cellar with cheese. The floor's as earthy as a burrow... and they're scared... really. There's also someone... creepy, but I can't see them. I can see everything so strange there, like someone's eyes, one child or another. At first, when it started, I thought I was seeing things, I was wondering, and then I realized the truth. How I found out about these kids. I went to Zagreb on purpose, asked around with the locals, and went to the pub. Mom said that he went to find out about the witchcraft. He went to find out about the kids. So the local headmaster's daughter disappeared there, a ten-year-old. She went to the well to get some water and bled away like she wasn't there! They were all looking for her Zagreb,
every nook and cranny, all the loopholes, no girl! I ask: what was she wearing? They were: a scarlet ribbon in a scythe, a handkerchief with swans from my father the day before, a trot coat... and I saw such a girl in my dream the day before. Only in that hole, dirty and dirty... But a handkerchief and a fur coat... it's just like they say.
I was listening with my breath shut.
- It's the right thing to say! The old man...
- Yeah, tell! They're gonna take me to the main square, they're gonna take me to the fire! I'm not gonna make it to the fire! Like a sorcerer! Where else would I get these visions? The obscurantism... and if they find out about the call, even if they don't get to the square, they'll knock me down.
- Yes... - I'm loaded, - you can't argue... do what we do?
- I don't know.
I carefully put my hand on his shoulder. I wanted to tell you more, but... but how? How do you tell me what happened to me? Danila, even though she's choirboy, but the boy can't stand it, he'll tell who, then both the guardians will be tied up. Together, and we'll make a fire in Starovera Square. That's if we get to the capital, but rather at the nearest pole will calm down, without ceremonies.
- We need to think of ways to help these children. - I said, - Danila, you may be the only one who can help them, and you have to do it! I don't know why, I just feel it's important.
- But how?
- You have to try to see more in your dreams. Will you be able to do that? See some details, little things... things that will tell you where they are and how they got there.
- I don't like it," the guy turned his back frowningly, "I don't want it! It's so creepy out there. Besides, I don't control it. Everything happens by itself, sometimes I fall asleep and feel like I'm hitting one of the children's bodies.
- They're scared and creepy there too," I said harshly, "only those kids are actually sitting in a pit, and you're not.
Danila turned his back shamefully.
- I'll give it a try. I'll try... to see more.
- That's good," I said on the way up. It was time to go back, or else they'll grab me and start looking for me.
- By the way," I remembered, "nothing unusual happens in your Wastelands?
The Wind of the North Page 7