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Cabinet
He looked cold and a bit pompous. The stone walls and the floor were decorated with an amazing mosaic. The thin columns of marble green from the time of moisture covered scarlet ivy.
The leaves barely trembled in a strong draft.
Before, Aine read the interior promises with ease. More often, Mavka had to see inconsistent attempts of the owners to tell about the fact that “everything is good and rich and rich and healthy, and there will be more good, satisfying, richer”. But there were exceptions.
That opened to her now.
"I am not human. A very important non-person, perhaps the most intelligent, even if not the most significant. "
The "inhumanity" of the host questioned the host. Very human to climb into the inhuman skin.
But the owner had a taste: in the very center of the ceiling the architect made a huge hole. An unnaturally bright light poured from it. He fell on a tabletop littered with papers, outlined massive, made in the form of snakes, the legs of old bronze.
From the furniture, in addition to the table, there was also a chair. He, along with the owner, hid the dense darkness.
No vain human meltosheniya. Creative mess and temple asceticism.
- Why are you wrinkling? Mavka, I see, like, - said the owner. The voice remained the same: clear, not broken - boyish.
Sparger leaned on the staff. Sighed.
“Actually, I'm tired and want to sleep,” he said, “but yes, yes, lousy you live.” In your place, I would get cozier.
- Hail, that is not on it.
Magus smiled. A child's hand appeared in the beam of light. Short fingers clutched a feather. The tip of it is drawn on a piece of paper. Without that scribbled.
“Ay-no-ke,” the master said in syllables. - Naive and pure child.
Mavka snorted.
- Do not dare argue! You, Ay-no-ke, wander in the dark. Everybody wanders, yes. But you are not everything. You are especially unlucky. Do you know why? In the dark wolves walk. They have no eyes, but there is a nose and oh-oh-oh-sensitive ears. And Aineke, an ugly girl with a beautiful name, ran at them twice.
The master raised the quill over the paper. On the tip hung fat black drop.
“Witches caught you the first time.” And the ugly girl became beautiful. The second time I met Iskora. You know what he trades, mawka? You do not know, this is clear. If only she knew, she would have an understanding, why did you ... get it.
Aine cast a questioning glance at Iskora. Magus stood motionless. To interrupt the spirit in his plans clearly did not enter.
A similar thought visited and the owner.
- Why are you silent, blond? - he asked evil. - Will you finish?
- Dame. I have no secrets. And if there is, not according to your mind they are.
Children's palm clenched into a fist, crushing a feather.
- Well, listen, Ay-no-ke. Your Magus eats our sisters and brothers alive. He lives it. Butchering gifted like a butcher bulls in a slaughterhouse. Separates the spirit from the soul, such is the craft. And everything would be fine. But the spirit later, it increments to the new soul. Only for money. Do you have sympathy for him now?
“You shouldn’t care about my sympathy,” mummy muttered.
But still moved one step away from the sorcerer. Spark continued to stare at the darkness.
The owner leaned forward. Light began to play on light, naughty curls. Snatched rounded baby face - that would be quite nice. Do not be on the face pair of huge toad eyes.
They seemed to glow from the inside, like amber burning in the sun.
The boy grinned predatoryly.
“No, no, no,” he said. - You did not understand. Magus hides behind your love, like a shield. He is hiding behind you, Aineke. Put you in a very awkward position - between the hammer and the anvil. Do you use it - did it occur to you? You know what to do with the shield when it becomes useless? He is thrown away.
Body chills ran. Aine retreated, her hoof knocking in the silence.
“I did not come here because of the sorcerer,” she said uncertainly.
The spirit slowly spread his hands. Crouched a surprised grimace.
“Your friend,” he continued insinuatingly, “did terrible things.” Yes. Once he ravplotav Mawka.
Aine licked her lips.
- You're lying. It's impossible.
- I have no faith, yes. I just sit here in a hole and write books. Ask the one who killed my dog, broke into my house. He has more faith.
The girl looked at Iskora. He nodded without taking his eyes off.
- What? - whispered mawka. - But ...
A loud bang made the body shudder. The boy, pleased with the effect, once again clapped his hands. He bared his little teeth.
“Well, no,” he said ingratiatingly, “you have more protection, Iskor.”
Behind her, she boomed softly. The girl clutched her fingers on the shoulders of the woman, and pulled hard on herself. A thought flashed through my head that I needed to defend myself, at least somehow. But the muscles did not obey. Fortunately, the blonde and did not think to cause harm. She dragged her friend away from the sorcerer.
- How?! - shouted Aina.
Iskor gave her a short glance.
“That's it,” he answered, raising his left hand.
The boy, having gasped, began to rise above the table. Following the movement of the brush. Zhubieglazyopal into a beam of light, and Aine saw that the boy was wearing a light, sleeveless robe
The sorcerer, whispering something, squeezed his fingers into a fist - the boy seemed squeezed by invisible force. The fabric wrinkled, a mournful vulture escaped from the skinny chest.
“And then,” said Spark, straightening his fingers, “like this ...”
The spirit goggled.
- You can not do it this way! - shouted mawka.
I tried to rush forward, but Bozena held tight. Magus wearily looked at the girls.
- So, you can decide for the children, who should they be? And take the result as given?
Aine was silent, biting her lip. They will simply save Bozhena. All the rest is afterwards.
“You should know how many pretty girls he tortured.” Lured into the water, drowned. He promised that he would make them beautiful mermaids ...
“So they became them,” breathed the spirit, twisting in two elbows above the table top. - Beautiful mermaids!
“They were beautiful before you came.” A Navyu made after.
The boy's look became almost human. Scared-hunted.
“Hey, hey, Iskor,” he shouted, “come to your senses, eh!” It was a long time, remember? We talked about this! I don't do that anymore!
“You dare to reproach me in the murder of Niella,” Iskor said with an already discernible fury in his voice. “She loved to fool too.” How do you!
The boy twitched harder, trying to break free. The body, as if on a rope, spun around an invisible axis. And the spirit now and then had to turn its head to catch the glance of Iskor.
“She was a rare bitch,” he shouted, “Spark! Listen! I would have nailed her myself, drop out such an opportunity ... Oh, oh! Priduroshny, leave me alone!
The fingers of the spirit opened. In a silvery stream of light, a crumpled feather tumbled. It fell miserably, swiftly, as crumpled feathers should fall.
But something was wrong here. Fascinated Iscor did not notice anything. But neither Ain nor the fact that the feather hung over the papers did not hide from Aine. As if supported by a beating of air from below.
The feather rotated wildly, growing into a large clump of fluff in front of his eyes. Aine opened her mouth, but late — a lump darted off, and, flapping wings silently, rushed to the Magi.
Mavka had time to make out owl eyes - saucers, spreading claws.
Time dragged on. This happened to Aine when something dangerous approached. And the inevitable. Were it not for this strange twist of time, for Mawka, everything would have turned into an incomprehensible melteshenie.
Spark intercepted the staff with both hands. He was arched - and the headband of the staff at breakneck speed struck the owl in the belly. The bird, grinning in surprise, flew off into the darkness.
The force holding the boy retreated. As if they cut the rope: their legs flashed in the air - the frog-eyed forehead met the tabletop with a thud. And then, not smelling ... Read more →