From the author: At the request of the workers I spread the last story in the series. Sex is not screwed - zvinyayte)))))

Regards, Non-commentator)))

- You called me, dad?

Father nodded, not looking at me.

He sat in a chair by the fireplace with me and thoughtfully scratched his forehead.

- Something happened?

Of course, I could read his thoughts — he rarely sets barriers — but now I didn’t want to do that. He called me not as usual, but through Parker, which means that it was not just me or him that was concerned. And this is his posture - he loves the light, but in the twilight he thinks better, he prefers to recline in his chair, throwing his legs on the armrest, and now he sits, his legs, as they should be, are on the floor, besides he is shod, which is just as unusual.

- Something happened? - I repeated.

He silently pointed to the second chair, which stood at the desk. I moved it to the fireplace. For several minutes we, without saying a word, looked at the fire. He was silent and did not send me any signals, which made me nervous.

- Dad, what happened?

“Trent ...” he said, and said nothing, as if not daring to say it out loud.

- Well?

“You must ... kill Shane ...”

- What!? - I jumped up from the chair.

How dare he say that to me? Does he not understand ...? No, he understands everything! This is another test, right?

- No, Trent, this is not a test ... this condition ...

- Whose?

- Marolite ...

I knew that nothing good would come out of this story with a doll!

Of course, the dead are under the authority of the Lord of the Halls of Death. If a dead man is brought back to life, he must be redeemed. Victims in the rituals of forbidden magic are such a ransom. But dolls are another story - from the point of view of physiology they are not living, they are simply bodies that move at the expense of the energy of Death. Cut off the energy supply, and they are no different from ordinary corpses.

But in the case of this all is different. He is truly alive - this is confirmed not only by the behavioral tests performed by the father, but also by blood tests, urine, semen, electrocardiograms and encephalograms, ultrasound of the internal organs and other functional studies. Yes, in his aura there is still more Death energy than needed, but its level is constantly decreasing and already corresponds, rather, to local necrosis, than to the zombie aura. Even the very presence of his aura is already evidence that he is alive - the aura dolls do not and cannot be, there are only energy channels that reach for arms, legs, torso and head.

And it is clear why Marolayt requires a fee - the revived dead man is his paraffie. But to give for the doll of my son - no, I will not go for it ...

- No, Dad, and do not ask ... I will not give him Shane ... - I said resolutely, but my voice treacherously quivered.

- Then he will take Ralfi ...

- On health, Eddie himself such a whole regiment can rivet ...

“Can't, Trent, and you know that perfectly well ...” his father’s voice sounded tired.

I looked away.

Of course I know. His case is unique, too many factors coincided so that this could be repeated, besides his recovery took a lot of time and the process was not completed yet ... And why did Marolight demand a ransom just now? What prevented him from doing this a year or two ago, when we still had no idea about its existence?

“Then its price was lower,” answered the father. - We could buy off some servant or even animals, and now ... He is a member of the Royal House of Amber, no matter how we treat this, which means we will have to give him equal to him in status. He cannot demand you because of the incident, the twins and Enilour are not interested in him, but he has already set his sights on Shane ...

I nodded hopelessly. Of course, even here such an opportunity ...

“But why should he be killed ... exactly me?”

“These are the conditions of Marolite ... you must bring his heart by midnight ...”

- I can not, Dad ... - in my eyes there were tears. - Do not force me, I beg you ... - I fell on my knees next to his chair and pressed his forehead to his wrist.

He ran his free hand through my hair:

- Sorry, Trent. I understand how you feel, but I cannot change anything ... If it depended only on me ...

And then the door creaked behind my back.

- Why are you sitting here in the dark? - from one sound of his voice in me such a rage boiled up, that, probably, he felt it.

- Ralph? - father's voice sounded surprised. - You said that you leave in the morning ...

“Yes ... I left,” Ralph said too cheekily. - And then I thought and came back ...

- Already missed Jenna? - Without a hint of mockery, my father asked and pressed my head closer to the armrest.

- No, I ... in general ... I do not know ... - he hesitated. - I have the feeling that something very bad is going to happen ...

I jerked my head sharply, leaving a strand of hair in my father’s hand, and rose to my feet, turning to face the doll.

- Feeling you? - I was just shaken by anger.

“Trent, stop it, he has nothing to do with it,” my father grabbed my sleeve.

I exhaled loudly and went to the fireplace.

- Something happened, huh? - the voice of the doll sounded alarmed.

“Nothing special,” the chair creaked behind my back — my father also stood up. “Go to your room, Ralfi.”

- Maybe I can ...

“You can't do anything,” I snapped.

Father touched my shoulder:

- Go ...

The door creaked again, and I turned to face my father.

“Don't cry, Trent,” he ran a thumb over my cheek — for that he had to stand on tiptoes, “you still have the twins and Enilour ...”

“Dad,” I buried my face in his shoulder, “how?” How can I ... kill my own son? How?

“You still have time,” he sighed heavily. “All I can do is support you, but ... I can’t do it for you, or entrust it to someone else ... Understand ...”

“Good,” I straightened, wiped away a tear, and turned to the door.

“But after that I will leave, and don’t even try to stop me,” I said from the doorway.

He sighed heavily again.

And I moved to my room, put out all the candles and sat in my favorite chair.

How stupid it is - to become attached to places, to people in such a way, so that all at once to break it all with your own hands. What's next? Shane, of course, is not a gift, it is difficult with him - he rarely executes orders, misses workouts and classes on strategy and tactics, he even managed to be late for his wedding anniversary. But looking at him, I see myself. Of course, it is different, but in some ways we are so much alike that I look at it like a mirror. To hell with all of it! I will not kill him, period! Let him choke on this doll ...

"Trent, do not be silly," - father as always on the lookout. Devil...

"Dad, I can't ..."

"You are stronger than this, son ... make an effort over yourself ... I beg you very much, Trent, do everything exactly ..."

I closed my eyes and exhaled loudly.

- Dad? - I flinched and turned around.

Shane stood on the threshold of my chambers and looked cheerful.

- What happened?

I sighed:

- Nothing ... all right ...

“Ralfi and I are in the music room.” We really miss the music ... By the way, did you know that he was really dancing in a cool way?

I shook my head and almost burst into tears in my voice.

“All right, dad, come,” he patted me on the shoulder and left.

I cast a quick glance at the sky - the moon passed almost a quarter of the way from the horizon. It should be about ten in the evening. There is still time ...

When I entered the hall, holding Betty in my hands, Shane sat on a low couch, clapped his hands loudly, beating the rhythm, and laughed, watching the doll spinning in the center of the hall, then sitting down directly on the floor, then suddenly hovering above it , then giving out some absolutely incredible na.

Suddenly the rhythmic pattern of Shane's pops changed, and immediately changed ...