Home at Last

by Alex Sapegin

“The man of few words merged too much with the elements of fire and necromancy; now his mind is captivated by illusions, and it devours itself,” Rigaud explained. The dragoness, letting out a thin stream of smoke from her nostrils, sighed.

  The huge iron-clad warriors covering the exits seemed to have turned into statues, and only a slender elf who by no means could be counted as a Rauu looked curiously at the griffons. The half-birds glanced sideways at the girl, but none showed any aggression. Rigaud involuntarily shrugged his shoulders; he hadn’t felt completely helpless in a long time. Today memory took pity on him, agreed with the harsh reality, and gave him the chance to feel like a bug on a needle in a showcase of dried insects. There was something in the living statues that was otherworldly, making shivers of irrational fear run with tripled speed down his spine. It’s terrible, but Rigaud, once again glancing at his friend’s coal-colored, scaly companion, reflected.

  His thoughts were crazy; they did not concern the conversation at all. The guy was somehow trying to imagine how Kerr… mm… “communicates” with the winged beauty. Did they love in dragon form or… ugh, of all the Targ-loving thoughts to climb into his head! And can a human with a dragon...? Ugh!

  “Strange, it’s hard to believe that the rector threw the savior to the mercy of fate and didn’t find a good sharp-wit mage.”

  “That’s the thing, Kerr! The old farts were frightened of the spell’s power and decided to write Tim off as collateral damage. I don’t know the details, but some blabbermouths from the entourage of our good governor were trembling about the High Prince’s and Etran’s wish to burn the book. They didn’t just because an army of Forest Elves appeared under the walls of Orten. That’s when they ran to Timur’s house; the governor’s staffers brought the best medical sorcerers and sharp-wits, but their efforts were in vain. They couldn’t get through to his mind. It’s too late, Kerr, too late.” Rigaud finally got rid of his obsessive thoughts and could think more or less coherently. He always forgot about his comrade’s second hypostasis. And what made him decide that Kerr preferred human women?

  “Then explain to me your presence at the portal site.”

  “Hmm, well, if I tell it straight, you could call me a deserter.” Rigaud smiled sadly. “The guys and I ran away from the wing.”

  “What for?”

  “To get to Kion. There are some really powerful sharp-wits in the capital… I can’t just give up on him. He’s not a rotten carrot. That man of few words pretty much brought me back to life and made me live again after I was wounded. I thought I would be a cripple my whole life, with horrible scars all over my body and face.”

  Andy thought about that. He tapped the fingers of his right hand against the wall in thought. Yes. He didn’t expect to meet Rigaud—the surprise turned out to be an excellent one, but that’s where the good news ended. The short-lived joy of the meeting, the friendly hugs and pats on the shoulders didn’t fit in with the gloomy look on the typically smart-alec guy. Having thrown a quick glance at Rigaud, Andy noted that his friend had matured. Rigaud was no longer a wise-cracking, never-failing youngster. Before Andy stood a young man, worn out by war and knowing himself, whose weary look could be seen in the penetrating gaze of his blood-shot eyes and threads of gray in his disheveled hair. In the corners of his school mate’s eyes, untimely wrinkles were hidden.

  War… However, there are things in the world that are unchangeable and indestructible. Cunning sparks, flickering in the depths of his grown-up friend’s eyes, and an ironic half-smile proved that the space between Rigaud’s right and left ears was still visited by philosophical thoughts about the reproduction methods of hedgehogs. Given the looks Slim threw on Ania and him, Kerr knew “hedgehog” stands for dragon. No, Rigaud used to be the number one news channel, and he still was. Kerr’s heart was warmed by the fact that the guy remained faithful to their school friendship. His unauthorized absence from the army threatened the “deserter” with major troubles, but he deliberately took the risk and, apparently, took a couple of his colleagues along with him.

  “Slim, but how did you plan to open the portal? The level of the magic field in Orten leaves much to be desired.”

  Instead of replying, Rigaud stuck his hand into the inner pocket of his flight suit and fished out a pair of large luminous crystals. The fragments of Hel’s statue, destroyed in the Helrat monastery, were stuffed with mana to the eyeballs.

  “I think three of the largest would have sufficed. One there, another back, and another stone would go to pay for the services of a sharp-wit and caretakers.”

  “I get you.” Andy closed his eyes, then stretched out his hand and squeezed Rigaud’s palm, dropping the fragments into it. “Keep them, the stones will still be of use to you, Targ!” Rigaud involuntarily recoiled, as if to refuse, but the were-dragon’s wide-open eyes showed fury; he wouldn’t want to be the object of a dragon’s rage. “Come on.” Andy sharply turned and headed for the nearest exit.

  “Lilly, dear, stay here for a bit. I won’t be long. Irran, leave five warriors with the girls. The rest of you, follow me.”

  * * *

  Ruigar, diligently hiding his interest behind a mask of indifference, looked at the decorations of the grand hall of Governor Etran’ residence, to which the parties interested in the negotiations moved. The Governor herself, on behalf of the monarch of Tantre, offered her deepest apologies for his not being able to attend such a significant event, delegating the necessary powers to the province’s number one person. A communication session with Kion confirmed the official’s words. The guests nodded understandingly and accepted her apologies. When an enemy army is about to appear under the walls of the state capital, the sovereign must exert every effort to protect the people and the city.

  After a virtual dialogue with King Gil, everyone plunged into cozy carriages and were comfortably taken to Lailat, where the Governor’s palace was located. Slightly moving the curtain aside, Ruigar looked at the onlookers watching the motorcade. The humans, orcs, and white-haired mountain Rauu elves looked curiously at the flying dragon guards and the miur running on either side of the road. The cat people did not allow the curious onlookers to approach the roadway. Among other things, the warriors held activated magical shields, creating a solid veil on the sides of the column. Illusht, sitting in the opposite seat, pretended that she was not interested in anything, but she too couldn’t help but throw curious looks out the window, and there was something to see.

  The war in no way affected Lailat, the Upper City. Carriages flew past beautiful villas, drowning in the greenery of parks. Along the cobbled road stretched numerous ponds with artificial canals and walking paths. Ruigar was struck by the huge amphitheater, built of white marble. High carved columns erected along the outer perimeter lent the building an air of lightness. The impression was that the building was trending upwards, reaching for the sky, miraculously not coming off the ground. The theater, numerous shops… All were built in a single architectural style, successfully harmonizing with the parks and with one another. Soon, the motorcade dove into the next park area and emerged from it into a wide square in front of a three-story palace, built in a style called gothic by Earthlings. High spires, lancet windows, stained-glass windows… the park approached the palace from two sides, flowing onto the walls with green decorative ivy as if emphasizing the unity of humanity and nature.

  In the palace itself, there was a pleasant coolness. In the halls and corridors, there were minimal ornaments; the architects created the main emphasis on the natural pattern of stone tiles with which the walls and floors were finished. Jasper, malachite, marble, granite, and carnelian appeared before people in all their glory. In contrast to the whole building, the main hall most resembled a hollow. Its walls and floor were lined with wood, and no matter how the guests looked at the finish, they could not see a single crack. The wood was solid, changing color from the dark oak on the floor to a light ash tree to the ceiling. Illusht twitched her ears in interest. The Great Mother
decided she would order a similar room in her future palace. It had a warm, pleasant atmosphere.

  The cat woman turned to Ruigar, who smiled with his eyes, paying tribute to the cunning of the local king’s governor. The hall created a calming atmosphere; no wonder the owners wanted to take advantage of the builders’ ability to create the right mood.

  The guards and bodyguards remained behind wide doors. Ruler, ambassadors, and secretaries passed into the hall. Governor Etran, as the mistress of the house, invited everyone to sit down. Before Ruigar could occupy the chair offered to him, there was a loud cursing behind the door.

  “Kerr,” Illusht said in exasperation. Her feline hearing was a good measure better than that of humans and dragons. “What is he doing here?”

  Ruigar shrugged and hissed to himself. An unbearable boy! The door flew open from a powerful blow, revealing to those present the angry heir to the Empress, playing with a blade in his right hand. Behind the Prince, there was some timid young man.

  “Your Highness!” Ruigar jumped to his feet. “What are you doing?!”

  “Governor, Miduel, you knew and didn’t tell me anything?” Spitting on decency and etiquette, ignoring the dragon’s angry objections, Kerrovitarr pounced on the leaders.

  “Your Majesty!” Ruigar switched to Alat.

  The guy behind Kerr choked and went bug-eyed.

  “Silence,” the crowned were-dragon snarled, a glittering ball forming in his left hand. Everyone in the room could feel the riot of magic and the power of the mana flowing from Kerr. “Why are you silent? Thought I wouldn’t find out? Governor, you disappoint me. Your Majesty, I didn’t expect this of you.”

  “Your Highness, please explain yourself!” Ruigar roared. Kerr hissed. Illusht chose to pretend to be a fly on the wall and not draw attention to herself at that moment. The miur’s self-preservation instinct is highly developed. The Governor and Rauu monarch, recognizing in the guy behind the dragon prince as his school friend, guessed the reasons for anger and lowered their eyes.

  “If you wanted to win my favor, you’ve started out wrong,” Kerr said, continuing to ignore the blushing Ruigar. “Prince Ruigar, I have a personal request for you.” He finally addressed the dragon, who glared viciously and grit his teeth. “Are there strong sharp-wits among the dragons who arrived in Orten?”

  Ruigar thought for a moment. “Yes,” taking a sheet of paper from the secretary, he wrote on it the name and clan of a sharp-witted mage.

  “Thank you, Prince.” Kerr took the sheet. “I beg your pardon for my improper behavior. Your Majesties, Prince, Your Excellency.” Kerr half-bowed to the audience, turned sharply on his heels and, grabbing the guy [S14]by the elbow, left the room. The front door slammed loudly.

  “Take the trouble to explain yourself,” spat Ruigar to the Governor and the old Rauu, breaking all the conventions of etiquette, blazing with rage. “What just happened?”

  “His Highness learned something unpleasant about our disposition to his friend. The incident is entirely our fault,” hissed the Rauu.

  “I want to know the details.”

  “I, too,” Illusht said in Younger Edda. “Negotiations on the participation of the miur and the dragons in the war on the side of Tantre and the Rauu principalities will not begin until we learn the background of the recent scandal.”

  The High Prince closed his eyes in acquiesce. “Okay, I’ll start from way back.”

  “What else do I need to know?” whispered Rigaud, looking at the swiftly walking Andy from behind. “You never spoke of your belonging to the royal family.”

  “Rigaud, I am the Prince of dragons, son of the Empress. Is that enough news for you?” he snapped.

  “Well, yes, yes. I can’t believe I didn’t guess,” Rigaud laughed hoarsely.

  “Calm down,” Andy chastised the nervously giggling guy, stopping near a large green dragon, conveniently located in the shadow of the palace. “Davigar!”

  “Yes, Your Highness.”

  “Davigar, I need your help. Please find Wairra from the White Wings clan.”

  “Fly with me; she’s out of town.”

  Andy, reflecting for a moment, stared at the dragon for a few seconds. After that, he shook his head and turned to Rigaud.[S15]

  “Slim, stand back a couple of yards.” When his friend obediently measured the indicated distance, he changed hypostasis and, bending over, put out his right front paw. “Sit on my neck.”

  “Targ’s tail,” Rigaud whispered, sitting down on the nape of the crystal dragon. “But hey, it’s better than flying on a griffon! Ho ho!”

  “Rigaud, I’m not a mare. Hold on!” Andy shouted, pushing his hind legs from the ground. Irran’s five warriors quickly jumped on the backs of the dragons from the air cover service. Soon the small V broke into two groups, which took up places in the upper and lower echelons—the winged bodyguards took their duty very seriously.

  * * *

  Timur’s estate met the unexpected guests with a bright sunbeam that fell from the wide scimitar of a mighty orc. The gray-skinned inhabitant of the north, clad in heavy armor with Count Soto’s coat of arms on her chest, gazed severely at the dragons who dared to land without permission on the green lawn behind the house. A frightened female face continually flashed in the windows of the second floor. The mighty warrior grinned unhappily and made an imperceptible gesture with her hand. A powerful protective dome appeared immediately around the house; narrow stone loops appeared on the masonry under the tiled roof, from which gleamed the arrowheads of the crossbow bolts. Judging from the characteristic magical background, Andy guessed that the mana sources from the fragments of the Hel statue were involved in the protection of the estate. Nice!

  The man of few words had an interesting house; it was unlikely that he had time to deal with the defense. Most likely, the defensive gadgets were set up by the former owners, who paid with their heads for their part in the conspiracy against the crown, and the fragments charged with mana came at an opportune time, adding to the cunning interweave of the protective dome.

  Andy lowered his neck down, waited for Rigaud to jump to the ground, and then changed hypostasis. It was necessary to calm Irran and the girls as quickly as possible. Otherwise, the suspicious cat, one might say excessively maniacal in securing the safety of his carcass, would blow the house up down to the last brick—no magical defense would help. Andy waved his hand and gave the silent order not to approach the house, then asked the dragons to freeze on the spot and not jump around the garden—already half the ornamental bushes and trees were trampled. As soon as he gave orders, the door opened, and Lubayel came out on the back porch. Noticing the dragons, the Rauu looked out the window and, recognizing visiting friends, hurried to meet them.

  “Vatyra, take off your weapons,” ordered the elf. The orc bowed and swiftly, with a motion that had been honed to automatism, drove the scimitar into the magical scabbard behind her. It flashed and disappeared into the sleeves along with some narrow throwing knives. Where had she hid them? A second ago they were not there. Irran snorted approvingly, having seen the orc’s wide belt with several piercing-cutting instruments of a murderous purpose. Glancing at the miur, Andy snorted next; the warriors would definitely find common ground and topics for conversation. He would bet his tattoo that in a couple of minutes, the girls would become best friends. As they say—peas in a pod…

  Lubayel came down from the porch and bowed.

  “May good luck be with your family,” said Andy, understanding that in light of Timur’s state, the phrase carried a somewhat unpleasant, ambiguous tone. “Hello, Luba. How’s Timur? Has his condition improved?” He immediately took the bull by the horns.

  “No,” answered Lubayel.

  “May we come in?” Andy asked, nodding at Rigaud.

  “They’ll take him outside right now.” Lubayel’s eyes were filled with sadness and doom. “The life mages and medical sorcerers advised him to spend several hours a day outside. Do you want some te
a?” The elf decided to show some hospitality.

  “Thanks, with pleasure.”

  Rigaud supported him with an easy smile. Lubayel disappeared into the house. The orc women took up their position at the door. Well done, an experienced and very dangerous lady. Andy looked at the orc and the women who had emerged from the house, who levitated some semblance of a couch with the reclining hero of Orten on it out onto the street. Andy and Rigaud leaned forward. The hero did not look very well. His skin was a waxy color, tightly covering his completely bald skull. He had a feverish flush on his cheeks, breathed hoarsely, and showed complete indifference to the world around him. After standing a few minutes next to his friend, Andy went to the dragons that had arrived with him.

  “Vairra, will you take him on?” he asked softly to the white dragon lying down under the apple tree.

  “It’s a hard case,” said the dragon. He stood and moved to hover over the young man who was in a prison of illusions, and for a few seconds went into contact with him mentally. “It’s difficult, but not hopeless. I’ll take it.”

  “Thank you,” Lubayel whispered hoarsely to Andy.

  “It’s the least I could do. Rigaud, Vairra, I’ll leave you to it. You’re in charge. With your command, my friend, I will agree.” Rigaud was taken aback by this pressure and opened his mouth; Vairra grinned with all ninety-six teeth. Andy giggled naughtily. “Davigar!”

  “I understand,” the green dragon grumbled, melancholy gnawing at the thick branch of the peach tree. “I’ll inform Ruigar; he’ll sort everything out.”

  “Until we meet again,” said Andy, embracing his friend tightly and kissing Lubayel’s hand.

  Returning to the portal site, he was amazed by the changes in the operators’ behavior that had occurred within an hour. Apparently, some kind person enlightened the local mages about who had paid them a visit. The mages, who were very wary of dragons, now expressed, through everything they did, their respect and deep desire to please. Passing the coordinates of the former Helrat monastery to the main magician, Andy merged with the astral, scooped up some raw mana and charged the energy crystals…