by Alex Sapegin
The warden sent a mental prayer to Manyfaces for not letting the dragoness dig too deep into his brain, and that she wasn’t interested in that cursed imperial shkas.
Ruigar lay down. A translucent membrane covered his eyes. The emerald female didn’t turn back to her true form. Instead she climbed up and settled nicely into the curve of the red giant’s front paw. Teg Viged backed away. He snapped his fingers and a boy servant came to him from around the corner.
“Quickly bring some cold beverages and fruit. Tell Pron to bring a little table.”
The boy ran off instantly. In a few minutes, a whole procession came forth from behind the corner. People brought wicker chairs and a table; fresh fruit smelled nice in baskets. Carefully, so as not to spill it, Pron brought in a large bucket full of ice, out of which peeked the necks of bottles of sparkling wine. The dragoness accepted the offering favorably. She moved from her beau’s front paws to one of the chairs, sat down comfortably and pointed to a bottle of wine with her exquisite finger. Viged drove away the servants with a wave of his hand, himself remaining to play the role of waiter. Wise in experience, he knew that a well-fed dragon was a kind dragon. Judging by their behavior, the beautiful woman sitting in front of him had considerable influence on the astal. It would be useful to gain even a tiny fraction of her good will, so the warden sucked up to his master’s girlfriend like a leach.
The cork popped and the sparkling wine flowed into the tall wine glass. The dragoness took the glass with the amber beverage and held it up to Ruigar’s nose. The sovereign removed the film from his eyes and looked at his partner.
“It would not hurt you to relax a bit,” Goldilocks said, smiling. “It is getting cloudy in here from your heavy thoughts.”
The dragon snorted and swung his head from side to side. In one instant, the scarlet-scaled monster turned into a tall elf of athletic build. He was dressed in the latest fashion in the capital. The warden stopped in his tracks. He couldn’t remember ever seeing the sovereign change his form, and now he was trying to remember the elf’s facial features. The dragon cast an imposing figure even in elf form, emanating power. He had an even oval face, a strong jaw, a high, open forehead, and long, jet black hair gathered into a ponytail. His powerful mind was obvious from his brown eyes.
“Relax, you say?”
The woman nodded. The warden stepped away and tried to become invisible, or as close as possible, so the dragons, conversing in High Edda, wouldn’t think he was eavesdropping.
“What is bothering you? Should we brainstorm together?” The sovereign filled a second glass and sat down in an empty chair. The shadow of thoughts flashed across his face.
“It is that smell. Ilirra, if the guy did not want us to know about him, he would not have left a trace, that is for sure. I can not understand the point of his actions. What for? It is as if someone tried to leave us a trail, but to what? And why would a dragon be in a dugaria in the first place?”
“So you think it was a dragon? Have you considered that it might be a human who received the gift of blood?”
“You smelled it yourself. Humans do not smell like that.” The elf closed her eyes in acquiesce. “What is interesting is that the tracks led to the bird barns. The scent is strongest there. The ‘guest’ hid on one of the birds, and no one saw a thing!”
“And what is the point of all this?”
“The empire.” The sovereign fell silent. “Our observers are noting activation at the foot of the Celestial palace. I’m afraid the empire has ‘digested’ its conquest of the eastern coast and is now casting its gaze to the south.”
“Are you going to organize a search?” The dragon chuckled.
“I think it is painfully clear that searching would be pointless.”
Ruigar, finishing his wine, called the warden over.
“Tomorrow I will send an extra squadron of border rangers to your territory. I will give you one day to get the old barracks in order. Twelve mages will arrive with the rangers, and if something like today’s incident happens again, you will envy the fate of the dugars!”
To the warden’s good fortune, he was standing far-ish from Ruigar and couldn’t hear the dragons’ conversation. He probably couldn’t have remained calm if he’d heard where the foreign man’s scent led the sovereign. Only two birds left the bird barn today… carrying Farid, Iriel, and the shkas. But the prince’s governor and right-hand man was mistaken as well—the empire wasn’t even thinking about annexing the far-away territory—yet. The whirlpools of the political currents around the throne of the Celestial empire had a different subcurrent. He was also unaware that the time for “yet” was ticking away rapidly…
Nelita. Celestial Empire. The Celestial palace...
The vaults of the huge hall were lost somewhere in the heights. The impeccable illusion gave the impression of an endless space; even the most experienced and picky magician could not tell where the dome ended and the real sky began. The columns, stylized to resemble the Mellornys, extended branches of stone trees to non-existent clouds. Light gusts and drafts of wind that roamed the room moved artificial leaves, creating an indescribable play of light on the tiny mirrors inserted into each leaf. The real grass growing in the flower beds around the columns somehow naturally gave way to the polished green tile lining the floor. Small sunbursts, reflected from the mirror inserts on the leaves, rushed back and forth across the hall and fell on the walls and floor, creating a sense of celebration. Several huge mirrors, hidden behind the heavenly illusion, caught the sunlight and redirected it to a high surface at the far wall of the hall. If any observers were to enter the hall, they would see a picture of parted clouds and the sun peeking out from behind them, sending a broad beam to the throne area. The observers would also see a dragon lying on the floor in front of the throne platform.
The mammoth of a brownish hue, wings spread wide and horned head glued to the tile, was looking intensely at the person standing in front of him. The man, dressed in plain clothes, who looked more like a simple warrior than the owner of the majestic apartments, was not in the least afraid of the threatening monster. His noble face did not express a single emotion; only the corners of his plump, sensitive lips twitched from time to time. His gray eyes held the embers of a restrained wrath and rage. The man ran his wide palm over his short blonde hair and poked the dragon:
“Katgar, tell me what that word means to you.”
“I try not to throw words around meaninglessly,” the dragon answered.
“Even so? That’s wise. But your oath?” The dragon said nothing. “Did you not take an oath of fidelity to me and give your word to serve with faith and truth? What prompted you to? Were those meaningless words?”
“No.”
“How then am I to understand your tricks with the Circle of the Twelve? Have you decided that I’ve sat on the throne too long? Answer me!”
“I have nothing to say in my defense.”
“Katgar, I don’t recognize you. I can’t believe that YOU aren’t saying anything to defend yourself. Has my slippery dignitary been caught in the net of his own clever plans? It’s a shame; I expected more from you. Was it a revelation to you that I was aware of your games? It’s so careless to rely on dirty human beings! Where would I be if I did not know how to calculate my actions? But do you want to know who gave you away?” The man took a step toward the dragon and whispered the name. The tips of the dragon’s wings jerked nervously; his tail hit the floor.
“I don’t believe you!”
“Too bad. He gave his word. And kept it! It turns out that for some people, giving their word means something. Ah, Katgar, Katgar. Your faith has ruined you.”
“You’re a monster.”
“I’m a monster? Shall I remind you of the oath you gave? Yes?” The man struck the dragon in the snout. The giant monster closed his eyes and, although it seemed impossible, pressed his head to the floor even harder. “Why have you come running to ask for merc
y from a monster? Is it because you’ve realized the futility of the Circle of the Twelve’s attempts to bring down the Celestial throne? Let me assure you: I’ve always been aware of everything that goes on there.” The dragon’s face expressed real surprise. The man scoffed. “Your secret society isn’t so secret, is it? What do you think—who founded it?”
“It can’t be?!”
“You ought to believe me. It’s an excellent way to separate the grain from the chaff. Legends and songs of minstrels that told of the great secret about the fierce fighters of the invisible opposition…. I put a lot of effort into creating the image of the Circle of the Twelve, and I really didn’t like that inside it someone was trying to form a closed caste. You did understand, didn’t you, that there was something wrong with the conspirators, and decided to cover your tracks, and when it didn’t work out, you ran to me. Remember the oath?”
“What will happen to me?”
“Nothing, you’re just going to repeat the words of your oath, in blood.”
“If I do that, you’ll be able to control my clan.”
“You should have thought of that before. I can do what I like with your clan as it is. The clan of a perjurer is ostracized. And that’s fine if you just expand its scope a bit. Maybe it’s worth spreading rumors about the connection between the Circle’s latest failure and a certain imperial dignitary and the head of the Hekjar clan? Imagine, just IMAGINE what will happen! Not even the memory of your clan will survive. You see how it’s all turned around? I’ll be straight with you: you’re alive because I need you, but the blood oath will allow me to guard my back from any further ill-advised actions by a certain dragon. I like your mind, resourcefulness, and ability to squeeze benefit from hopeless situations. As long as you are faithful to me, your loved ones are safe. Shall I give you time to think about it?”
“I’m not going to turn my nose up at second chances. I agree.”
“You’ve made the right decision. I hope neither you nor I will regret it. If you said no, my ‘fangs,’” he pointed to four dragons standing perfectly still between the Mellorny columns with gunners in their front paws “would have put you to an abrupt end, and I really don’t like doing that. After they’ve done their work, it takes a very long time to get the place all cleaned up again. Enough cowering like a worm.” The dragon folded his wings on his back and lifted his upper body off the floor. “Let’s talk business.”
The man rose to the dais and walked around the throne, tapping his fingers on the symbol of power. Having made some decision, he waved his hand. Obeying his slight gesture, an illusion of a map of the empire and the surrounding states flashed to the dragon’s left. The pardoned dragon glanced at the presented illusory layout. The emperor occupied the throne.
“What are those flashing dots?” he asked.
“Portals. Interplanetary portals sealed three thousand years ago.”
“As I understand it, something out of the ordinary happened, to make you pay attention.”
“You understand correctly. Two days ago, the seals disappeared from the portals. Something’s happening there.” Katgar didn’t need any explanation as to where “there” was. “But you know what? Without the keys and the passwords, we cannot open the portals, so, we still cannot get answers, and we cannot leave it all up to chance, either.”
“I do not understand why the southern mark is circled twice?”
“The portal is located on the territory of the Principality of Ora. Your task will be to make either the portal or the lands—mine.”
“War?”
“It’s possible, but then in order to commence military action, we’ll need a variety of excuses. Arranging these excuses will be another one of your tasks. Be careful, I don’t need a conflict with the Miur. We’re already stepping on the Great Mother’s tail. And another thing, Katgar. You’ve lost the right to address me without using my title. You’ll have to earn it again.”
“Yes, your majesty. I will.”
“Go on, think. I’ll be expecting you the day after tomorrow.”
The dragon lowered his head right down to the floor. The emperor waved his hand indifferently. The “fangs” standing off to Katgar’s side accompanied their fellow dragon out of the throne room.
“Strange, very strange.” The emperor stood up from his throne and went out to a wide balcony. Far below, he could see the city blocks of the capital. “Who removed the seals, and why? Was it a fluke, or someone’s deliberate action? I need to send academics from the university to the portals. Two of you, follow me,” he said to his silent dragon bodyguards, jumping onto the high stone railing and throwing himself down. The small cross-shaped shadow of the man with outstretched arms on the palace wall suddenly grew and sprouted wings…
Russia. Somewhere not far from N-ville…
“How are things?”
“We’re observing, Mr. Chuiko,” the operator answered the leader of the third group.
Chuiko pushed his glasses up on his nose and looked inquisitively at the main screen.
“I see what you’re doing. It’s an epic sight, like from some war movie.”
A few of the young people agreed with the boss. The older operators said nothing.
The view on the screen was strikingly reminiscent of film scenes from the epics about the World War II, with thousands of people digging anti-tank ditches and putting up field fortifications. Something similar was happening in the magical world.
Thousands of toe-headed elves, simple humans, and what seemed like short people, but with glowing hair, were using magic to raise up banks and dig deep ditches on the approaches to a large mountain fortress. On level platforms far out in front of the ramparts, large round cobblestones were being buried in the ground with great care. On the slopes of the mountains, the forest was being chopped down and stakes were made from it, which were dug into the ground in front of the ramparts, forming respectable palisades. Hundreds of shorties with luminous hair erected stone towers about thirteen feet high behind the ramparts. The work was carried out in great haste, not stopping day or night. Paul went to his workplace and displayed the image on his personal monitor. The world Kerimov’s son had fallen into was preparing for war. The boy got caught in a sticky situation, although what kind of a “boy” was he anymore? The boy cut off heads. It seems like he’d be a better fit for the army or the secret service than to be the object of pity. Paul shrugged. He’d been living on that planet for a long time already.
With permission from the command, the third group led a free search every night. What else could they do when the rest of the time their schedule was literally down to the minute? The population of the underground scientific center had grown by more than a thousand people over the past two weeks. All kinds of people—from biologists to philologists. You couldn’t spit in any direction without hitting a PhD or a professor. Iliya Evgenevich had really stirred up some chaos, probably more than he could handle.
“Look, the pointy-ears are bringing mirrors from the fortress,” Tessa Osin said, a young, talented girl who joined the third group straight out of college and still had a couple of months to go to give her final defense of her thesis. Her employer promised to help with that.
The elves really had brought five large parabolic mirrors on wheelbarrows. Each was about six feet in diameter. Now the short people with the glowing hair were mounting one of them on the upper platform of the first tower. Fifteen minutes later, all the mirrors were installed on revolving frames.
A dozen riders set off from the towers to the people working at the banks. Soon the working platform was cleared; not a single person remained in front of the towers. A dozen sheep were driven down the slope in the field.
“I get the feeling those elves haven’t brought the mirrors in for nothing,” Tessa again chimed in.
“Tessa, no need for commentary,” one of the schedulers barked.
Tessa’s sixth sense was right, but even it could not have predict
ed what happened next.
Climbing up to the platform towers, the elves turned the mirrors in the direction of the field and inserted into little notches in the back of the frames one sparkling crystal for each mirror.
Obeying some common feeling, all the operators in the room froze along with the natives on the other side of the screen.
“Baaah, baaah,” bleated a ram from through the speakers.
The bleating acted like a trigger. The mirrors became shrouded in bright radiance and shot forth a wide beam. The sheep turned into a cloud of steam in an instant; the earth turned black where magical lasers touched it. The forest hit by the beams was instantly burning brightly. The jaws of everyone in the operators’ room dropped to their chests.
“OH MY…!” someone whispered.
“Did you record that?” Chuiko jumped up from his seat.
“We got it,” Tessa answered. “Boss, don’t stress. Everything’s being recorded automatically. I wouldn’t want to be one of their enemies! I wonder who they are?”
“That’s exactly what I want you to find out. Let’s begin a concentric search.”
Part two.
ALL CLAN SECRETS.
Nelita. Freelands. Mellorny campground. Andy…
“Come with me,” the elf girl said and ran up the path.
Andy, carrying the heavy body over his shoulder, followed.
“Faster, navi alamai.”
“Girl, don’t run. I’m not a horse,” Andy snapped. The elf was heavy and awkward to carry.