"You'll just think that I'm swearing again," Kashchey refused. "If you need anything, I'm going to be in the room with the TV. The one in the form of the plate… Until I feel fine again."
***
…an empty office. A table. Ten plates with a bunch of buttons. A feeling of great delight and danger…
Kashchey shook his head and a strange image faded, disappearing in the abyss of his subconscious. Staring at the plate, he shrugged. Whatever he'd just seen, it didn't explain anything and didn't need to be remembered.
The wonderful city of Slavnograd wasn't anything special. The same quiet panic as before except that now, there was also some impatience among people. They were waiting for the princes' arrival. Kashchey didn't tell Maria that he could watch what others were doing. He didn't want her to stare at them for days on end. What if her nerves failed or something else happened? Why sit through extra tantrums?
Kashchey tuned in to see the adventures of the princes, and with great surprise, he realized that they were still stuck in a rundown village, in no hurry to fulfill their obligations. Spending one day there was acceptable, considering the peasants who were eager to hear what happened where and when. But being there on the second day? That was too much. A good storyteller could tell a story quickly and vividly. Especially when in a hurry.
The princes didn't intend to sleep either. They were settled on a tree comfortably, and apparently, they were preparing for a battle.
"What the hell is this?" Kashchey protested angrily. "Testing new weapons before fighting me? At night? On village lunatics? Personally, I prefer to fight during the daytime. It's easier to dodge the arrows of the enemy then. Night snipers consider themselves unsurpassed professionals and are ready to turn any target into their personal hedgehog. Ripping out the arrows with their metal tips is extremely exhausting." The latter was particularly tiresome due to the specifics of their extraction.
Some strange chimeras were marching on the village. After taking one look at them, Kashchey reached for his legendary sword involuntarily. The carnage that followed plunged him into deep thoughts. Whoever the new monsters were, it wouldn't end well.
"I'm lagging behind the times," he murmured thoughtfully. "There are new parasites in my land."
Kashchey focused on the wonderful city of Slavnograd to make sure that nothing this bad was happening there. Technically, everything looked fine, but there were some carriages with people before the gates. One man was waving his hands, shouting something to the guards on the walls loudly. The bridge over the moat was lifted off the ground, and the gates were closed. People were holding sharpened poles and clubs, as if waiting for an attack. The guards were staring at the shouting man but did nothing. The visitors didn't look as mighty soldiers, but considering that at any moment, an ambush could come, they weren't willing to risk it. The most logical decision on the part of the guards was not to pay attention to the appeals and demands of others until morning. And after the princess was kidnapped, the guards didn't want to risk by letting some farmers distract them.
The weary man cursed all imaginable and unimaginable people of all existing and fictional worlds, spat, and returned to his cart. Kashchey kept waiting, intrigued. In normal times, shouting like this in front of the gates was a guaranteed way to get killed. Attracted by the cries, the guards would shoot first and come out to clarify what happened later. Naturally, they learned nothing in such cases because the only skill of the dead was to remain silent. But these were the peculiarities of their work.
***
With the first sunbeams, a thick chain shifted. The bridge slowly rolled down, and the gates opened quietly. The carpenters had already replaced the crossbars Kashchey had broken but kept the old ones as a memory of his visit. After all, such guests appeared rarely.
"Go!" Babak commanded. The horse moved.
Strict guards at the gate blocked the passage.
"What is your business here?" they asked menacingly. Babak showed them the medallion.
"News from Prince Yaroslav," he answered shortly.
"And who are they?" the guard nodded at the sleeping Alena and Ivan. "Are they news, too?"
"Yep. They're news for Prince Artem's relatives," Babak answered. "Is something wrong?"
"Go on," the guard declared indifferently, ignoring his question.
The chief jumped out of the guards' booth and blocked the way. Babak stopped, surprised. The man was looking at him closely.
"I thought I heard a familiar voice," he said. "Sarek! Is that you? What brings you here? Did you decide to return to the service?"
"And be stuck in your behind-the-scenes intrigues?" Babak grinned. "No way."
"Well, you've been fired, so I see where you're coming from."
"Thanks a bunch for reminding me of those less-than-stellar days! I should have seen it coming. But in the meantime, I have an urgent matter to attend to. Could you let me in? I need to see your King."
"How urgent is your urgent matter?"
"If I'm late, we're all dead. And by dead, I mean, dead."
The chief turned pale.
"Go on! Should I show you the way?"
"Show *me* the way?"
The man waved his hand. He knew Babak could easily offer tours across the city himself.
"That's why I love the military. They're so intelligent," Babak explained to Alena, who'd finally woken up. "We're in the capital."
***
The image of the city was replaced by a galactic advertisement. Kashchey cursed the person who'd eaten the apple and walked out of the room. The device reached its limits and ceased working. Good thing that he had held on to it for seven seconds only.
"Well, Maria, what's new?" was the first thing he asked, making it clear that everything was back to normal.
"The mirror," Maria replied. "I'll never get one of these."
"Yeah? Why?"
"The reflection it shows is scarier than meeting a ghost at night."
Kashchey peeked into the mirror immediately. Maria hadn't lied. The mirror distorted the image in the most unthinkable way.
"I'll put it near the entrance," Kashchey decided. "My guests will be delighted."
"You have no guests," Maria reminded.
"What about you?"
"I'm a prisoner! An honorary one."
"You're an honorary prize, not a prisoner," Kashchey replied.
"Huh?"
"Well, you'll be awarded to a winner," he noted vaguely. "Anyway, forget it. What else have you found?"
Maria handed him a bound folder. Kashchey spent about three minutes on trying to unsuccessfully untie it before he realized that the knot was decorative and that the folder could be opened by pressing a bulge in the form of an arrow. Kashchey pushed it down, and a blue flame flew from the folder.
"Wow!" Kashchey jumped away and closed the folder. Then he read the microscopic writing on the back. “Road tiles. Open carefully!”
Putting it in its rightful place, Kashchey picked up the box that refused to be closed as long as it remained empty. As soon as he crumpled a sheet of paper with the words 'Perfectly smooth surface' and put it inside, the box closed. Opening it now would be impossible.
"I wish I could see how it tries to straighten up," Kashchey remarked slyly and winced immediately after that at the sound of the crackling wood. The leaf broke through the walls and straightened, cutting the box in half. "Now that's horrible!"
Kashchey put half of the box on the top shelf and grabbed the small bag. It giggled hysterically. Puzzled, Kashchey looked at it and tried to open it.
Who was making this infectious laugh?
The bag refused to open. It refused to be broken or cut either. The only thing that changed was the hysterical laughter. It had begun to laugh mockingly.
"People come up with all sorts of rubbish! Did the inventor of this thing have nothing better to do?" Kashchey exclaimed in astonishment.
"Maybe it was created to cheer up a sad crowd," Maria suggested. "The
re are often such days when you don't want to smile at all. Or when the weather is bad, or some troubles loom on the horizon. A bag would be great in these circumstances."
"I'll give it to you for your wedding," Kashchey promised. "In the meantime, I think you'll approve of my decision."
He threw the bag on the top shelf where the box and the scientific dictionary were already lying.
***
Flying into the Quirky forest, the fox became so confused that the first thing she did was bark at the bush that reminded her of a crow. Only then did she begin to think.
Why was she barking?
Nothing particularly terrible had happened in the Quirky forest for a long time, but unseen animals lived here. They followed unusual physical laws that were incomprehensible to common birds, animals, and people. Lots of weird and mysterious things were happening in this place, which explained its name.
Who would have thought that a piece of cheese would be so expensive? That crow. It couldn't even lend her a piece! Although perhaps she knew what hunger was? But how? She was probably eating like crazy while the fox nearly fainted from hunger.
"So greedy!" the fox yelled. She desperately needed to vent. For a moment, there was a dead silence, and then the some of the local birds went wild with indignation. The astonished fox discovered that none of them paid attention to her. It's just that she expressed the opinion of each inhabitant of these places as it related to their neighbors. The neighbors, in turn, didn't care who started the name-calling. They just took the chance to yell at someone they'd been dying to yell at but failed to find a reason for it. Those who were yelled at screamed at the first and the third neighbors, and the latter went on the warpath.
All the fox had to do was sit back and watch the impromptu talk show.
"People won't think of doing something like this for a thousand more years!" the fox muttered proudly. She had an idea to add some more dirty details to keep the show going, but the remnants of conscience didn't allow her to taunt the locals like this.
The birds were sorting things out quite violently. They broke branches, tore out each other's feathers and leaves, shouted, and swore. The fox nodded along, slowly eating the birds that'd been knocked out. There had to be some benefit from such scandals!
***
The Bully flew into the Quirky forest by accident. He sat down on a twig to rest when suddenly someone shouted, "So greedy!!!", and everyone around him exploded into violent arguments. All kinds of things flew in the sparrow's direction and a great slaughter began, threatening to grow into a huge forest war of a "everyone fends for themselves" type. Bully looked at the local fun in horror and hurried to fly out of the combat zone.
'It's a bit noisy here,' he thought. 'They might kill me by accident... I have to fly to the north. Nobody lives near Kashchey's castle, and no one is going to fight there!.. Though flying to Kashchey... that's scary. I'm already worried!'
***
The crow that had flown farther than anyone else decided to eat. She settled in an empty nest and pulled out some fruit she'd plucked from the yellow-leaved trees. It smelled of bread and resembled an apple. She inhaled the fragrant smell, pecked the fruit, and grimaced. It tasked like a lemon, only much sourer. Unclenching her cramped beak with difficulty, the crow spat out the decoy, swept the treacherous fruit away with her wings, and shook her head, trying to get rid of the lemon smell and taste.
The fruit broke into pieces, and a nickel-covered fish swooped down on it. Cunning faces peered from behind the branches. They looked at the fish and waited to see if there would be some severed tails. Nothing happened, so they disappeared into thin air.
The crow cawed resentfully and took off. She didn't know that the unripe fruit she had so thoughtlessly tasted had the smell of fresh bread and the taste of lemon, nor that when it matured, it began to smell like a lemon and taste like bread. But the most terrible thing was that it created very bizarre glitches in the mind of those who tasted it.
The crow's mood improved quickly, and if not for the lemon taste in her mouth, she would have felt quite good.
'It's so wonderful to live in this world!' the crow thought. 'Especially if you are a creature with the teeth and wings that it is flying right at me. What does it want? To eat or just bite me?'
Her mood was extremely uncaring. Let it bite.
The creature with the teeth and the wings was approaching, and the crow was staring indifferently, not trying to do anything aside from just wait for the development of events. Finally, the moment came. The choir of teeth began to sing a charming song, and the thinking part of population of the woods hid at the first sound, crawling into the deeper corners. The teeth flew over the head of the crow and returned for a second run. She yawned, wondering how she was still hanging in the air. She wanted to sleep, and then the teeth shouted something. What did they want? Were they looking for a free jaw? They should try it with someone else. Birds had no teeth, after all. Though why would they need teeth? It'd be difficult to shut the jaws, the food would get stuck, and something like a toothache would happen. Who needed such torment? So no, no teeth!
"Down with teeth!" the crow cried out drunkenly. Someone yanked her by the tail. Hard. The creature that did this whisked the crow under a branch, so the teeth flew by, the six-foot jaws snapping dangerously close.
The crow was indignant.
"Hey! Where are your manners? I'll peck you!"
"Shut up!" the stranger grumbled. "Unless you want to be chewed by those teeth!"
"Chewed?" the crow asked. "Chewed what? I also want to chew something! Hey, teeth, share the gum!"
"Did you eat the brain-freezing berries, you black-winged fool?"
"Look at yourself..." the crow tried to focus her vision and see her impolite interlocutor. It didn't work well. "What brain-freezing berries?"
"Berries like lemon bread."
"Delicious berries. Horribly sour. I wanted to spit them out."
"Never again, do you hear me? Never eat them again!"
"Why is that?"
"Because your brain will glitch!.. Though what am I talking about? It already has! Do you understand?"
"No.
"I knew it."
The crow shook her head, still fruitlessly trying to focus her vision.
"I want to fly far north!" she shared her plans for the nearest future.
"Sit tight until the teeth fly away. Then go wherever you want. Understand?"
"Nope."
"I knew it."
"Who are you, anyway?"
"Brontoquack."
"Who's that?"
"It's me."
The crow shook her head again. The teeth kept flying in the sky, looking for a victim and letting out some unearthly sounds.
"Why did you yank me by my tail?" the crow asked indignantly.
"To save you from the teeth. They'd chew you up."
"They’re that hungry?"
"No, they just love to chew. They chew and chew until there’s nothing left."
The bright lights flashed in the crow's head. Something pounded against her temples wildly, and then she came to her senses. The berries had lost their effect. Everything she'd been saying while under their influence instantly slipped from her memory.
"What am I doing here?" the crow asked in bewilderment.
"I knew it!" Brontoquack said. "Do you remember what I've just told you?"
"No. Did you say something?"
"As a matter of fact, yes."
"Then repeat it," the crow asked. "I remember I was flying, and I saw some bird... no, I saw the teeth! The flying teeth! You must look at this miracle at once! I've never seen the teeth flying by themselves before! Who gave them the wings?"
Brontoquack patiently repeated his story, starting with the berries. The crow was gasping as she stared at him, trying to understand what her savior looked like. Like a duck? No. More like a swan with a shortened neck and arms instead of wings. The wings were located a little further down his
back. Two palms and fingers with retractable claws.
"Why are you known as Brontoquack?" the crow asked.
"Because when I was a kid, I told everyone that I would grow into a huge and great Brontoquack."
"What's your real name?"
"I don't remember. Not anymore," Brontoquack shrugged.
The teeth continued to rush through the forest, calling the forest dwellers sweetly, offering them the role of the food.
"How long do they usually fly?"
"Until one of us is caught and chewed."
"How often does it happen?"
"Every day," Brontoquack said.
The crow didn't like such news. How could she get to the castle if the teeth would constantly fly and bother her?
"They are not from Kashchey's castle, are they?"
"No, not at all! They live much closer. Kashchey has exiled them from his territory."
"How?"
"He went out to meet them a few times."
"So what?"
"They broke all their teeth by trying to bite him. Over and over again. They can't help but chew someone who gets into their teeth, so they moved here for better options."
"Good news. Finally."
"Do you like Kashchey then?"
"No, but there are no jokers near his castle, and you can rest there for a while."
"Interesting approach," Brontoquack noted but didn't ask the crow to clarify. He noticed a bug, so he licked it down with his foot-long tongue and began to chew juicily. The crow froze.
"What's with you?" Brontoquack sounded surprised.
"How did you do that?"
"Did what?"
"I didn't expect you to have such a long tongue."
"A long tongue? It's short! They... well... Well, *they* — you know who I mean. They have a truly long tongue! They can catch someone running on the ground from the top of the tree!"
"Not sure who you mean," the crow complained, but Brontoquack pretended he didn't hear her. The teeth were flying around, the singing was getting louder and louder, and everyone wanted to leave their shelter against their will to hear the delightful sounds better. The crow began to lose her patience.
"I wish they'd fly away already!" she expressed the general wish of the inhabitants of the forest.
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