And I fell asleep before I could think.
And in the middle of the night I woke up like a jolt.
She opened her eyes, trying to figure out what had woken me up. Sleepily rubbed her face, sat down, looking back. Quietly. The moonlight flows quietly through a colored window, long slanting shadows cross the room with darkness wedges. And one of the shadows is alive. He stands in it, he is a part of it, or she is a part of it... a strong body hidden by black clothes, dark hair, dark eyes so carefully look at me. I can feel that look like a touch.
I want to scream, but he won't let me. He won't move, he won't talk, but I'm all bound by his power and can't disobey. The pain in my hand burns. Without even looking, I can feel the mark of Argard burning at my elbow.
Inside grows a pulling and sweet pain, I do not understand what is wrong with me, I am scared ... or not? I don't know.
The Arch'arrion.
A strange demon name so strange to the human ear, so uncomfortable with language. And it's only in his thoughts that he slips like a blade into a sheath cut out for him...
I blink and miss the moment he leaves, when the shadow is only a shadow, undead, dead. I feel relieved. And emptiness.
* * *
I woke up completely broke. For a couple of moments, I was lying dumbly looking at the gray ceiling in a web of cracks. I remembered, shouted deafly, jumped up.
Of course, the room was empty. The sun is only rising, its pale rays daringly light up the room. I brought my hand to my eyes: a dull spiral on my finger, a clear red mark on my elbow on the inside, like from a hot rod. And again in my chest a tight lighthouse lump, curled up and painful. It's as if you have to do something, go somewhere, and where I can't remember. And that's why it's so painful and disturbing.
I got up from the bed in the cold. I threw an old handkerchief over my shoulders and slipped into the corridor, deciding to use the ablution room without the usual morning shoving.
The narrow corridor sank in the darkness. The rare wall lamps with their weak lights were not intended to dispel darkness, but to emphasize its superiority over light. With my hands around my shoulders chilly, I walked to the end of the narrow room with the cougars of water. I didn't want to wash my face, and even my handkerchief was afraid to take it off, but I overpowered myself. I sprayed cold water in my face, soon wiped my body with a wet rag and felt my teeth knocking. But without day and night, I comforted myself. The canvases on the brothel turned out to be damp, before they could dry out overnight, and it was unpleasant to wipe them off. It wasn't much use, but I wiped it off and got into my shirt. And I was relieved to wrap myself in a handkerchief.
And I felt a chill in the back of my head like a draught. Chilly turning my shoulders, I turned around and shuddered, in a thin ray of light stood the last year's drowned Zlatocvet. She stood and looked at my morning ablutions with frozen, expressing nothing. I wanted to yell, but in time came to the memory of Rogned with her twisted face and wandering eyes, and I restrained myself.
The drowned woman was silent. Her thin body in a summer dress was swaying weakly, as if wrapped in a thin water film, and her face and body seemed to be rippling like a lake under the gusts of wind. Thin lips were slightly ajar and something black was turning inside, trying to get out. The eyes are white, unable to see like a dead fish, and the look of these eyes causes a sinister hurry.
I swallowed the bile that had come up to my throat and, having overstretched myself, took a careful step. Not to the door. To the drowned woman. Or rather, her spirit. Because the girl was ghostly and flowing like lake water.
- Golden blossom, - I called quietly, - Golden... why are you here? Why are you here? Can you... say?
The transparent face turned a little, the dead eyes looked at me. I swallowed it again.
- The chickenpox... - the voice rumbles in a wave through the coastal pebbles.
- Why did you come back here? - I persisted in asking.
- Why did you come back here? - The drowned woman was surprised, - I forgot my hairpin... I was longing... and the door was open... to take... we must take...
- Which door?
- The door... on the other side, the splash of the waves subsides, on the other side...
- Why did she open up, I'm almost screaming in despair, you know?
- It was opened...
- Who? Who opened it?
The girl is rippling again and at the same time she's fading, disappearing. Thin lips smile a bit surprisingly.
- You... you, Vetriana...
I froze, then I grabbed the drowned woman by the sleeve, trying to hold her. My fingers went through the water, remaining dry. The ghost laughed a little, choked like a seaweed, and disappeared.
I looked at my palm perplexed, rinsed it thoughtfully in my cough, and weaved it to the door. Looks like bathing alone isn't such a good idea.
I couldn't think about what was going on. As soon as I could get into my room, the morning bell blew over Riverstein, heralding a new day. Almost immediately, the corridor was read by Harpy's squealing screams, pulling the novices out of their sweet hugs of sleep. I did not wait for the Mistress to come to me, dressed hastily, weaved her braid and went to the stairs to the ground floor.
Sleeping novices reached for me. Judging by the faces and the speed with which they found themselves in the hall, many decided to ignore the morning ablutions. And they did the right thing, by the way.
I listened to the conversation grimly. Maybe I wasn't the only one who talked to the world of shadows this morning. But I didn't hear anything strange. The main topic of discussion was the curator, which is not surprising, and the upcoming breakfast, which caused heated debate. The pupils were divided into two sides: the first frowned at the end of an unprecedented meal of prosperity and promised us today a usual meagre table. The generosity of the capital's lord could not have lasted longer than one day. The second (mainly those who are dumber and younger), furiously defended their idol and encouraged by the smell of tasty refectory smells. And they speculated that one was more incredible than the other smelled so deliciously. Fried grouse, sweet pies, mushroom-baked fish and sea creatures were listed. One could only be amazed by the incredible gastronomic fantasy of novices, who not only did not eat, but also did not smell any of the above.
Mrs. Karislava's appearance stopped the heated debates and irrepressible fabrication. In a moment, losing the fuse and chilly eating, the novices were built for a run.
Riverstein's shameful courtyard met us unkindly. A thin snowdrop covered the frozen rocks with paving stones, and the soles of our shoes slid on them like on an ice lake. On the first lap, a dozen novices fell down, slipping. I resisted, but Polada, who was running in front of me, shaken, waved ridiculously with her hands like a shot bird, and fell back, drawing me away. We collapsed on rocks, our palms were stripped off, our blood was dried.
- Get up! - immediately screamed over Harpy's ear, a whip whipped threateningly and caviar burned with pain. I jumped up. The blade twitched aside, smeared my shoe, preventing me from getting up and taking my balance, and I stretched out again, sticking my nose in the snow.
The whip joyfully cleared the air and... hung on without falling down.
I stealthily turned my head, not knowing to get up or better not move. The gaze rested on high black leather boots, then on hips covered with pants, a simple brown shirt and...green eyes.
In his hand, the Lord held the whip taken from Mrs. Karislava, and thoughtfully patted with the handle on his leg.
I hesitatingly pulled up the spreading knees and stood up.
- And what's going on here? - The lord asked very kindly. Harpy, white with anger, stared at him with hatred. I even thought the mentor would now open her mouth, stick out a long split tongue, and sleep like a poisonous viper.
- This is where the training of the novices takes place, Master Lord! - Through the power of restraint, left Harpy.
- Really? - The curator was sincerely surprised, - and what exactly d
oes this novice learn, - a forge on me, - when she is floundering in the mud, unable to rise under your... whip?
- Tolerance! - The Mistress has exhaled violently.
- Tolerance? Why do your students need this kind of tolerance, Mrs. Karislava?
- To know their place! - The prioress shouted out with hatred.
The man examined the novices who had fallen into the pile and quieted down.
- I'm afraid they've already learned their place too well, Madam Superior," he suddenly said sadly. Immediately his lips squeezed.
- Are you aware of the king's orders concerning... such methods of education?
Karislava snarled angrily, but did not put her head down.
- The king is not fully aware of the consequences of such orders! These sinful women understand only the language of the whip, only fear is able to keep in check harmful thoughts and keep away from temptations, which they are so willing to betray!
- How can they?
- All of them! - You do not know what these prostitutes are capable of! This one," she poked at me with a crooked finger and a sharp fingernail, "has been a darkness in it since childhood, since childhood! The Blessed Mother cries when she looks at this girl from heaven, she is the refuge of evil spirits, I know it! How much effort it took me to turn her soul to the light, how much flogging and teaching with a whip, it's no use! A swashbuckled girl, a spoiled girl! For a long time she would have been thrown out of the gate, into the forest, let her be embattled with wolves, but Mother Superior, the holy soul, did not allow it! And I believe that it is a sin to allow such a person to the holy ablution in the Mother's Eye! And blasphemy!
I put my head down, holding back my tears. Why would I do that? Why did I hurt her? And before that lord... Shame.
The bitter resentment rinsed no worse than a whip, only the soul... I'd rather be kicked up and down, not get used to hearing about myself. I swallowed it without raising my eyes. I would hide from their eyes, furious at the mistresses, assessing - at the curator, hide, climb under the blanket, as in childhood, so as not to see anyone ...
- ...Wow! - I said deafly behind Polad's back and I raised my head. It's snow. Fluffy white flakes, big, almost palm-sized, white wall fell on people standing in the yard. Little snowdrifts fell on our shoulders and heads in an instant, our clothes shrouded in white, and we all looked like frozen statues. The snow was pouring so thick that the courtyard fell almost immediately, and the walls of Riverstein sank behind the snowstorm as if they were melting.
I patted my eyelashes in astonishment, waving my snowflakes. I opened my mouth, caught one snow butterfly with my tongue, and smiled. A dark figure came out of the white mare, and the Lord stared at me judgingly. I smiled innocently.
- Everyone back to the orphanage building! - ordered by a man, and we reached for the entrance obediently, as if ethereal shadows in a whirling white snow.
* * *
The snow ended as suddenly as it started. Just now, shaggy snow butterflies were spinning in the air and, once, it stopped.
But at that time everyone was already sitting in the refectory. By the way, neither of the two contenders won. The generosity of the curator did not stop, but no unrealistic and far-fetched delights were not served to us for breakfast. Everything was quite simple, though very nourishing and delicious: buckwheat porridge with milk and honey, warm butter scones and boiled eggs. There was plenty of food, happy Avdotya even offered a supplement, but we still had a habit of hiding the remnants of food in our apron pockets. Who knows how long this abundance would last, it's better to stock up on it.
To my great joy, Xenya came to breakfast too. She looked much better, there was a blush on her pale cheeks, even freckles came back! And the girlfriend did not complain of her appetite, she swam away for both cheeks, and went for an extra. Twice. I was even worried that Xenia would burst!
But it wasn't! She wiped her lips with a canvas, patted herself blissfully on her visibly rounded stomach, and smiled.
- Tell me," she commanded.
I sneaked around the hall, and I don't want to be overheard. But the students were so passionate about food that we could discuss it in full voice without lurking!
I whispered, however, and bowed my head low to my friend's ear. The only thing I kept quiet about was a night visit to my room by a demon. First of all, I'm not at all sure I didn't dream about it, and secondly... and secondly, I didn't want to talk about it. Not even my only friend.
After telling you everything else, I shut up. Xenya was cut off from the lump in the canvas.
- So, I hurried her, what do you think about it? What do you think Golden Blossom meant? Which door?
Xenia looked up at me with sad eyes.
- Maybe the one through which I came back? - quietly, she said.
And I was scared. So clearly that the friend sighed and turned away, showing that this is not going to be discussed. And she said it was exaggerated fun:
- And did you see the portrait of Lord Darrell that Rogned painted? Didn't you see it? Oh, come on, Vetriana! I've never seen anything so rare in my life! Not only is he depicted on a white stallion, he's also half-naked! I mean, in the same... wallets! True, Rogneda claims he's wearing a traditional outfit for a knight tournament, but I doubt it! I think Rogneda is stupidly in love! Can you imagine, she wears this crap, I mean a portrait with her, in her bodice, and at night she puts it under her pillow! Brrrrr!!!!
We laughed together, looking at the far corner, where the "great artist" settled. Rogneda flashed and turned away.
Laughing and breathing, I lowered my voice to whispering again.
- I'm worried that Danila isn't coming. I'm afraid that no matter what happens to him...
- Danina didn't say anything like that. - Xenia objected, though she hadn't left the shelter in days. Everything is messing with me. And the younger ones have fallen down... We have to go to the Wastelands, see this... acquaintance of yours! Maybe the Call has already called him.
- I don't think so," I shook my head, "then I would hear him. But I sleep peacefully.
- All the more reason to move to the village.
- But how? Last time I was only miraculously undetected! And during the day we'll be grabbed in half an hour!
- Then we'll go at night," Xenia said confidently.
- Have you gone mad? What if the wolves eat us?
- I don't think so," she said, "we're not good enough. Let's go through the forest, you know him well. But it's better to ride a horse, of course. How is our Marysya doing there?
- She's doing well," I burst out, "and she has a neighbour, so she's not bored.
- Ah, the stallion of the Lord? - Ksenia rumbled understandably, and stretched it out thoughtfully, but that's how to pass by the gatekeeper without being noticed, I'm not going to lose my mind...
- I think I know," I said, recalling our walk in Kairos. I wonder how the Lord knew about that exit and the trail in the woods. And will I be able to find it? And also in the dark? Oh, Beautiful Mother, where are we going? Oh, where haven't we been? And she answered funnyly:
- It's settled! After sunset, we're going to the Wasteland!
Until tonight, Xenya and I were quiet behind the broom. It's true that no one was really clinging to us. The abbesses walked depressed, but the girls were not particularly broken, even in the basement today did not send anyone. Mistress Alphaeus, surprisingly, held a prayer without the usual rod, although our hands were dangerously hidden. She smiled so tenderly that we looked at her in terror, not knowing what to expect from her. One thing was clear, the Lord of the Capital, with his powerful hand, was bringing order to Riverstein. And our abbesses had to put up with it.
By sunset I was completely nervous, Xenia, on the contrary, came to life and even cheerfully hummed under her nose. She seemed to perceive our upcoming expedition as a carefree adventure. That's okay, but Ksenia's recklessness has always been a little too much, but her reasoning is not very...
But the fear for D
anila won. I kept feeling like something had happened to the guy. So with the last rays of the sun we stood near the stables, cautiously wrapped in warm dark cloaks and took bread and carrots for Marys. Kobylka met us quietly rusting, approvingly pushed into my palm with a stretched treat. The demanding rusting of the stallion was heard from the far corral.
- Wow!" Xenia whistled admiringly, "what a handsome man!
- His name is Kairos, I reluctantly said. I didn't want to remember my ride on this horse. But I did buy the stallion bread. It's not the horse's fault that its owner is a snob from the capital. Though, I must admit, with the Lord's appearance, the life of the children in the orphanage has improved considerably.
- You know, I have an idea - gambling eyes shone Xenya - we will go to the Wasteland on this stallion!
- Are you crazy? - I took it very seriously.
- You're crazy yourself," my friend said, "but I'm telling you. Marysya can't stand two saddles. And one, quite possibly, will not stand. Our filly is already an old woman... and this horse, young and strong, he can carry two of us no more than one!
- Yes, but it's a stallion of a lord!
- Well, so what? He won't know... you won't tell him, will you? - Xenya smiled cleverly. I moaned out loud, not in my mind.
- Chickenpox, stop chickening out! We'll go to the village, talk to your Danila and back! Our capital lord won't know anyone took his horse! And if he suspects anything, what's it got to do with us? We slept sweetly in our crib all night!
I've been thinking. Despite all the absurdity, Kseni's words had a share of common sense. Still, it's better to ride a strong and hardy stallion on the night road than on an old stuck-up nag. But lord... if he finds out...
- He won't know! - Did you see many lords walking around the stables at night? He sleeps and snores sweetly!
I wanted to argue that I've never seen lords before and what they do at night - I have no idea, but I just sighed.
- All right, get the saddle," I commanded. Xenka jumped up as if she were stung and rushed to the harness.
The Wind of the North Page 12