I don't know what was about to happen next, but at that moment, Sting tumbled out of the bushes, cursing like a drunken sailor. If anyone was able to ruin a romantic moment, that'd be him.
The archer was followed by the rest of the squad—all of them were dirty, wet, and scratched as if they fought cats. Kata had a long scarlet abrasion on her cheek, and lumps of slime in her moist sticky hair. Bers looked like a bum who just crawled out of a mud puddle. Terekhov must have injured his leg because he was limping and holding on to Doc's shoulder. Cursing under her breath, Edge was picking out ball-shaped prickles the size of a ping-pong ball from her hair. Daniel was the last one—because of his massive armor, he struggled getting through the thickets. His muttering from under the huge helmet, which was like the cap of an ancient spacesuit, sounded like it was coming from a barrel. I didn't see Viper. He must have been lagging behind or had died on the way here.
Hold on a second! Edge?!
Seeing each other, we all froze and fell silent. I turned my head back and forth, looking at the assassin who had appeared with the group, then at her double, whom I pressed against the tree.
"What the fuck?" I exhaled, finally recoiling. "Who are you?!"
The rest of the Hounds, also dumbfounded, stared at my companion. Edge was shocked more than others, of course. She's even forgotten about the prickles in her hair.
Faux-Edge, watching our reaction, broke into a smug grin.
"Where are you going, babe?" She playfully pursed her lips. "Have you changed your mind and don't want to kiss me anymore?"
"Huh? I wasn't…"
Damn it, so freaking embarrassing! Sting started to giggle as usual.
"So what's going on, Mongoose?" Terekhov frowned as he averted his eyes from me to the imposter. "Who's that?"
He was one person who was serious in any situation. He probably never even smiled at himself in the mirror.
Meanwhile, Faux-Edge was giggling quietly and nastily, pressing her head into her shoulders in a weird way. Her laughter was getting louder and crazier, and it all looked pretty creepy. There was chill running down my spine.
But that was just the beginning. Then her facial features and the equipment became blurry and amorphous; they began to swell and mangle like sheets of melting plastic. A thick, red like copper wire, fur started to come through. In a few moments, a monkey, wearing expensive silk clothes and rolling with laughter, appeared before us.
Actually, it wasn't a regular monkey. It was the holy sage. Born of the wind and Known the void. Life-giver, who leaped over the ocean. The one who burnt the town of the ten-headed. The one and only king of the monkeys. The possessor of mighty strength and great prowess.
The Great Hanuman.
Chapter 14. Negotiations
There are different degrees of surprise, from mild astonishment to extremely severe conditions of awe, which cannot be conveyed by censorship words. The Hounds surprise was the latter, but it was still not even close to what I felt. Of course, they weren’t the ones who had spent half a day in the jungle hanging out with this impostor.
How?! How could I have fallen for this masquerade?
To hell with the transformation itself. I didn't know about this talent of the monkey king, so he caught me off guard. But I should have been able to see it from his behavior.
In hindsight, now that I was thinking about it, all sorts of strange things, which didn't alarm me at the time, started rushing to my mind. Faux-Edge wasn't talkative, and she didn't want to answer any questions directly, in addition to that, she didn't use invisible mode or any weapons. But sometimes she showed disproportionate strength. The vanara cub reacted strangely in her presence from the very beginning as if trying to warn me. Anyway, I should have been immediately suspicious at least because of the inconsistencies in time. Edge wouldn't have been able to get to the Eternal Banyan even if she started chasing me as soon as I separated from the group.
Hanuman himself seemed to enjoy the effect he produced. With a wave of his hand, flexible vines emerged from the ground, taking the form of a chair, into which he sat down, placing his staff decorated with gold ribbons on his knees and majestically lifting his face.
The Hounds slowly pulled up to me and looked at the monkey king with mixed feelings. We all forgot about the vanaras who might have been chasing us, about our wounds, and other troubles. Nobody dared to speak. Terekhov seemed to have a broken leg. Doc was tinkering with his ankle, applying a cast made of tree branches that they found nearby.
It looked like the role of a negotiator was assigned to me for now.
"Well, why are you doing this, Great Hanuman? Why did you pretend to be one of us?"
The monkey moved his lips in a comical way, first as if he was playing a flute, then pulling his lower lip to the nose. His face was nimble, with lively facial expressions that changed every few seconds. He was basically grimacing. First, it seemed he was angry, then that he fell into a reverie, then he was laughing, then frowning suspiciously. But the majority of his expressions were self-righteousness and condescending interest.
"It's not often that hairless people get to the Eternal Banyan," he said. "The Great Hanuman decided to find out why you were there."
"Why did you need to pretend to be someone else? I've been looking for you. You could have asked me directly."
"That wouldn't be as entertaining," he said, smiling. "Besides, hairless people lie all the time. What if you decided to lie to the Great Hanuman? And you wouldn't lie to your beautiful friend."
"Oh, what would you know about hairless liars..." Sarcastically replied Kata, looking at me askance.
I pretended I didn't hear her remark.
"Well, what did you decide? I told you about our plan by the Banyan. We can help you cope with the rebellious vanaras who unleashed this fratricidal war.”
"Perhaps, perhaps," muttered the monkey king, rubbing his chin with his black like coal nails. "You were right, my little friend. I cannot harm my subjects. Even those, who are asking for it!”
The mere memory of the shamans made him so angry that he started kicking his legs impatiently, almost falling from his improvised throne.
"What's wrong with them?" I asked. "What do the Whispering Oak shamans want? Why do they need so many prisoners? I thought they needed a sacrifice, but you said yourself that's not it."
"They don't," Hanuman agreed readily. "But someone else does. Shamans weave their vile network, enveloping entire Uobo. They have already desecrated almost all places of power on their territory and on the lands of the Celestial Tree tribe. But in the southern lands, guarded by a tribe of Jubacca, they are not the masters.”
"They are not masters of the lands of the Celestial Tree. But that didn't stop them. I watched them attack a pack of poor fellows from a fraternal tribe and kill them all."
"Oh, that's sad, very sad," the monkey king shook his head. "The vanaras of the Celestial Tree are light, swift, and graceful. They live on the highest tiers of branches, so high that they can collect dew from the clouds. But they are not warriors. And you can't blame them for that."
"What about the Jubacca?"
"Ahahaha," laughed Hanuman. "I'd like to see these brazen shamans try to attack the worshipers of the Tree of Death! But, alas, they are not so brainless. They decided to appease them instead."
"By making sacrifices?" Terekhov guessed.
The commander, finally, felt a little better. He was still sitting on the ground, but his leg was tightly bandaged and no longer bleeding. He listened attentively to our conversation with the monkey, looking from one to the other.
"Sacrifice, sacrifice, sacrifice," Hanuman nodded his head like a bobblehead. "The tree of Death will never be satisfied."
"And why would they want to capture the hairless people?" I asked, stumbling a little.
"Oh, I don't think they had any special intention. They were lucky enough to have come across you. Your kind has special power," Hanuman expressively narrowed his eyes. "Victims who ha
ve intelligence are the most valuable for Jubacca."
"You didn't lift a finger to get us out," Bers almost growled, spitting to the side.
"I've already said—I can't interfere…"
The monkey king had a hard time admitting that he couldn't do anything. So he said it quietly, but with obvious irritation, which could at any moment turn into rage. Instigating a madman is like flicking a lighter over a puddle of gasoline. Even if he's just pretending to be insane.
But Bers didn't seem to care. He was still hot and angry after the captivity and, literally, their head-spinning escape.
"I'm not saying that you're supposed to kick shamans' asses and carry us into the sunset. But you could have thought of something else. You could have done one of your tricks. You're bragging about being a great sorcerer, after all!"
"You want me to use the Tree magic against vanara shamans?" Hanuman snorted contemptuously, puffing out his cheeks like a monkey and releasing air through his wrinkled lips. "They'll know it's me. And then the great treaty will be broken. The Azure Dragon granted me power under one condition: that it will never be directed against the guardians of Uobo."
“But what if the guardians are the instigators?" I chuckled.
"A treaty is a treaty. Great Hanuman has already done a lot of things he is guilty for before the Creator," the vanara reluctantly admitted.
"What happens if these Whispering Oak shamans get their way?" Sting suddenly intervened. "How will that not make you guilty before the Creator, if you don't prevent them?"
The monkey king scratched his nails loudly on the back of his head and grimaced. Sting was good at putting people on the spot.
"I can't interfere," Hanuman finally repeated. "But shamans are under a bad influence. I think they're misinterpreting the prophecies of the Whisperer about messengers coming from the Abyss."
"Perhaps, the one who whispers is to blame, after all?"
He dismissed it again in exasperation.
"That's just the wind that plays with leaves of the old tree. Someone hears in this rustle voices that whisper about the past and the future. But the past is rippled and hazy. And the future... Is there a future?"
After a moment's hesitation, he looked up at us, and his eyes, usually glowing with sparks of madness, showed a cold, calculating mind. Although, to be honest, I suspected from the beginning that he was no more insane than any of us, and his antics must have been a sort of publicity stunt.
Another option is even worse. After all, the most terrible madman is the one who seems completely normal.
"I. Can't. Interfere!" He growled. "But they need to be stopped. I doubt you're strong enough to handle them, though."
"We'll see about that!" Grunting and leaning on the shoulders of Doc and Bers, Terekhov tried to get up to his feet, but gasped and flopped on his ass again.
Hanuman looked indulgently at his torment and raised his hand. He made a few intricate rotational passes with his hand as if pulling something invisible from the air. Suddenly, thin green shoots started coming out of the ground by Terekhov and wrapping around his injured leg.
"Stay still, hairless! I'm helping."
For a few seconds, these flexible stems with small round leaves completely covered the foot of the commander.
"Now sit quietly, and Gotu kola will do its job.”
Terekhov looked with doubt at his entangled leg, but judging by how his face smoothed, the miracle sprouts removed the pain.
"Let's say we kill your damn shamans, whatever it takes," he said. "But what do we get in return?"
"Hm! How do I know what you, hairless people, are interested in? I can give you many things. Gold? Gems? The sweetest fruit? The most beautiful vanara concubines?"
"Ew!" Kata and Edge snorted in unison, followed by the others. Sting scratched his head thoughtfully at first, but then shook it, as well.
"I know that nothing gets past you in Uobo," I took the initiative again. "You know that there is a big and strong squad of hairless people in the jungle right now. They are led by a commander named Genghis."
"Of course I know about it!" Hanuman lifted his chin proudly. "Many strong warriors and strong mages. Now, if you cooperated with them in trying to defeat the Oak shamans, it would be much easier."
"Unfortunately, we are not together," Terekhov replied. "But we need to know what they're up to and stop them. At the same time, like you, we cannot intervene directly."
"Really? Heh heh heh heh heh, it's funny…"
"I know why they're here," I said. "They're looking for something in the jungle. Fiery tears."
Hanuman's eyes widened for a second, and his eyebrows shot up in genuine surprise. But he quickly regained presence of mind.
The reaction of Terekhov and the rest of the Hounds was similar.
"How do you know that?" Kata could not resist.
"I know," I muttered. "I have my sources. But that's not important."
"The source of information is sometimes more important than the information itself!" Terekhov said. "What are those fiery tears? And how did you find that out?"
I let out an exasperated sigh. But it looked like I'd have to tell them everything. Otherwise we'd spend more time arguing. If Viper returned, the negotiations with Hanuman would be a failure. He would report back to Genghis.
"A few days ago, Genghis traded some artifacts with the Corsairs. I contacted Maverick, and he found out through his channels that it is most likely about a certain compass that helps find these very fiery tears…"
"Janji Hae's Compass!" Hanuman spoke in a conspiratorial whisper.
"Exactly."
The monkey king leaned back in his living chair and frowned.
"It changes everything. Without the Compass, finding the tears is almost impossible. This is an ancient, undercurrent treasure of Uobo. But the compasses, which are made by the famous Xilay master, can be of big help in this."
"How does the compass work?" I asked. "I heard something, but I don't quite understand. Is it disposable?"
Hanuman mumbled something inarticulate, trying to formulate his answer.
"Uh-m-m-m... Yes and no. The compass hand is as thin as a hair and so sensitive that it reacts to the presence of a fiery tear for many hundreds of steps. It makes them easier to find. But if you get too close to the tear, the arrow will simply break. So it all depends on the patience and prudence of the one who owns the compass."
That's the bad news. Genghis has plenty of that, so there's no hope that he'll lose the artifact before his time.
"What are those fiery tears?" Daniel couldn't resist.
He also took off his huge helmet and sat down on the ground to get some rest. I was surprised to see that he had shaved his head, probably, so that it didn’t feel as hot in the jungle. However, he had a mustache and a short beard, making the lower part of his face almost square.
Hanuman was in no hurry to answer, so I spoke.
"It must have something to do with the legends of creation. It mentions that the sky was crying with fiery tears. I think it's the meteorites. What do you think, Doc?"
Everyone turned to the necromancer, and he froze with wide eyes. He looked like a man who remembered he left the stove on at home when he was hours away from it.
"Adamantite!" He exhaled a single word.
Judging by Hanuman's reaction, he guessed right.
Adamantite was quite often mentioned as an important element in the game. Once we even had a chance to stumble upon two mechanical hounds, made entirely of this shiny, like molten mirror metal. But at that time it involved a secret weapon used by Ghosts—administrators of the project. Players still have not found a grain of this material. According to rumors, it was ten times stronger than steel. The hardest metal in the game. Weapons made of this metal could destroy rocks and cut in half people wearing armor, without leaving even a notch on the blade.
"Adamantite is also called meteor metal," said Doc. "It can be found in the form of ore, but with a very low percentage
. One has to dig deep to get it. So that the surest production technique for adamantite is searching for large nuggets, which are actually meteorites that had fallen from the sky in ancient times and then were covered with layers of soil.
"How did it happen that Corsairs blew this artifact?" Bers shook his head doubtfully. "Don't they understand that adamantite is a strategic resource in this game? Considering the armor worn by most of the players right now, a pair of adamantite blades could easily decide the outcome of any large fight. They could cut open titan chest plates as easily as tuna cans!"
"Maybe Corsairs just didn't know the functions of the compass," I shrugged. "The description on it is very short and vague."
"Or maybe they have more than one," Doc suggested. "They dominate the White Shore and the Bay of Leviathan. They take out local mini-bosses, collect treasure chests from sunken ships…"
"Yes, that's an option," I agreed. "Maverick assumed that, too. Well, it's also possible that the Eye of Dahamesh is now more strategically important for them. Genghis traded it for the compass."
"After all, getting a compass is half the battle," Terekhov concluded. "We also need to find those tears."
"Exactly!" Hanuman suddenly chuckled. "Fiery tears are scattered across Artar, but the biggest ones are in places where hairless people must face imminent death."
"What about Uobo? You know where the tears are within your realm, don't you?"
"Of course!"
"Will you tell us?"
In response, the monkey king only laughed mockingly.
"What if I told you that's the price of our help?" Terekhov interrupted.
Hanuman stopped short and looked at the commander reproachingly.
"I can't," he said. "I cannot give a treasure like this to the hairless people. Ask for something else."
"You can't or you won't?" Sting asked softly.
The monkey king looked at him with such a displeased face as if he was about to throw something heavy at him.
"I can't," he said, with an obvious effort. "Here in Uobo, I am almost almighty. But even here, I have some restrictions. Especially when it comes to you, hairless people. I'm not supposed to show myself to you without a valid reason."
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