The Way of the Clan 9

by Dem Mikhaylov

  What would I do with the ship log? Give it to the Sleepless? It was logical — I was on their flagship. And had a contract with them.

  But something in me resisted. Just a couple of hours ago I did it with joy. I gave a lot of things away for free. But after today’s memorable conversation with Malice, my generosity had diminished and become microscopic. So if I were to give, then it would only be in exchange for something.

  I had enough material good.

  Information? A good option. As long as I did not sell it.

  For example, I could try to find out exactly what the Great Navigator would get after casting the spell. Nothing was said about this in my books. But I believed that such information was available somewhere — it was Valdira. It was possible to piece together threads of information. You would just need to find the right string and pull it. I was sure that the Baroness had already managed to pull a few similar threads and solve a few puzzles.

  “Here it is!” Roska’s exclamation was full of emotion.

  The excitement and tension of a true angler, the fear of missing the prey — all were mixed in my daughter’s voice. How could a digital personality be so alive? Ankle-deep in the sand and warm ocean water was a real live girl, holding a vibrating and luminous fishing rod confidently with both hands. Standing next to her, Kirea the Protectress pressed her hands to her mouth, obviously afraid to say something to throw her off, but at the same time showing that she was sympathetic.

  Almost like a living … I largely understood the mildly insane father of the Baroness and Orbit. If the digital embodiment of his deceased wife was just as alive, then maybe it was worth going down to hell for her. And what would I do if, one day, my daughter was thrown down and sent to the unknown of Tantarial?

  “Dad! It is the fish!!”

  “The main thing is not victory, my dear,” I hurried to smooth the rough edges of a possible defeat in advance. “The main thing is participation.”

  “No, really!” Cut in Roska. “The main thing is — victory!”

  Orbit looked at me as if I were stupid.

  In the meantime, the line danced like crazy, and the evening calm calmness of the tropical ocean was shaken from within by fierce splashing. The rod bent and cracked— surely its strength was now decreasing with incredible speed. Roska shook here and there along the beach, her bare feet leaving grooves in the sand. These grooves immediately filled with foaming water. I took note of everything happening on video, feeling like a real father. I forgot to record my own adventures, but I could not miss my daughter’s fishing.

  “May I help?” Uncertainly suggested Kirea, looking at me.

  I shook my head. Let her fight the mysterious fish herself. Let him put her to the limit, and then she would win or lose. I understood Orbit. In his world, there was either a victory or a loss. And once you lost, you would not be able to take your revenge — for that meant overthrowing hell, from which nobody had managed to get out of yet.

  A red bony spine flashed on the surface of the water. A blue and yellow skin. Skin, not scales. The line jangled, the rod bent into a question mark, the hilt almost turning out of the girl’s hands. A predatory long snout appeared — it was a narrow pike mouth jagged with teeth. It was a predator … and a bit smaller than my height. Shortly before, Roska had jokingly thrown an oceanic tuna of enormous size and weight onto the shore. And now she barely coped with a much smaller fish.

  I held my breath, realizing that the battle was coming to a climax. Kira approached at my elbow. And the elf, maintaining his usual indifferent look, looked only at the ocean.

  After a series of fierce twitches, and the clanking of a fishing line, the fish smelled the freedom trying to go to the depth, but it again was pulled to the shore … a splash … and the elongated shadow of the underwater predator rose up, the evil eyes of the murderer watching us. Roska was pulled into the water, she went in up to her knees, leaned back … damn! I could not stand it now — I thought about grabbing a cobblestone, and throwing it myself at that stubborn fish muzzle!

  A jerk … a jump …

  And, flying through the air, the fish fell on the sand, where it beat in impotent rage. Its bright skin was immediately covered with a layer of sand. The jaw clicked angrily. Roska lifted her hands in a victorious gesture. She had won! At her feet lay the rod, broken in half.

  “Just like me,” I shake my head. “Just like me ..”.

  “Like something, for sure,” agreed Kira with a sigh. “Well? Are you ready to congratulate the future Valdira champion of fishing?”

  “What did you say?”

  “Yeah. She constantly keeps saying it herself— I want to become the best fisherman Valdira.”

  “The rod…” My daughter said, handing me the broken rod. “Killed in battle ...”

  “We will buy a new one,” I promised. ”Even better!”

  “Really?”

  “Really-really.”

  “Coool! Boom boom-hey! All pirates in the yard! What a catch!”

  Yes … the fish was notable. The name did not mean anything to me: “Protosfiren the Furious”. The sand-strewn eyes were constantly looking at us with a mute promise — if not in this life, then in the next one, I will definitely avenge myself. I did not know how much such a catch could cost. I did not know how many alchemists would buy such a fish. And I did not want to know. I had other plans for the fish. There would not be a huge auction, there would not be a meeting of alchemists, there would not be any discussion of our catch. Rather — the discussion would be, but it would be somewhat different — culinary.

  “We would sell?” Kirea asked.

  “No,” I snapped. “We will eat it! And to hell with money and bonuses.”

  “Wha…”

  “Today we treat Roska,” I smiled. ”Let us sit in one of the best tropical restaurants, give the fish to their chef, and ask them to roast it whole! And then we will have it with wine — and juice!”

  “Yes!”

  “Yes!” Roska and Kirea supported me.

  “Yes!” The elf was not far behind.

  “And we will order half a ton of green salad and fruit for the fish,” I sighed. Pure joy. Enough Sleepless. I would dedicate this evening to my family. All the way to the last second.

  “Cool! Boom boom-hey! We go to dinner with a mammoth!” Said Roska. ”And if the cook does not fry the fish — we will pierce the dagger into the table, we will grab the cook by the gills and say: hey! Fry the fish, jerk! Otherwise, we ...”

  “Otherwise, we will just go to another restaurant,” I snorted. “Hell… what a huge one.”

  “I have never heard of such a fish,” agreed Kirea. “Come on, daddy. Time to fry!”

  “Time to fry fish!” Roska also shouted. “We will eat her up to the last bones! Hey-ho!”

  And we went — Roska was ahead, followed by Kirea, and then I and Orbit, followed by Kolyvan, who swung his trunk cheerfully. Behind our backs, the ocean died away. Ahead of us, one after the other, peaceful lights were lighting up — a light rhythmic music could be heard.

  The catamaran swayed in the shallow water, but it was no longer alone — there were also lights flickering around it. Below were curious underwater inhabitants clattering their claws.

  The ocean, though it was falling asleep, distinctly heard the call — it was time to raise the anchors, time again to embark on the journey through the vast water.

  Zar’Graad called …

  PART FOUR.

  The last jerk.

  Chapter Twenty-Five.

  Marine bidding and wrangling.

  “Eaten it?! Eaten it?! No, tell me directly — gobbled up a pier! No! Do not say anything! I do not want to hear! Wow! What scoundrels! They devoured the legendary fish! And they sit happy, with sparkling eyes, with red cheeks! Do you have brains?!”

  “Hm?” I said quietly.

  I was not heard. Bom was not shouting at me. He was talking to the fishermen who were sitting on the deck. I was lucky — I was out
of the zone of his verbal attacks, which were capable of humiliating anyone.

  I was the Great Navigator, and I was on my post — I was keeping watch on the main bridge of the Black Queen, making sure that the sails moved to our distant horizon. Behind our stern, the contours of the islands that sheltered us slowly faded away.

  Goodbye Ring. I thought rightly that these islands would no longer sink into the sea, and that the revived civilization of swarthy beautiful natives would continue to develop. Over the past few days, the players had restored the lion’s share of the island infrastructure. They had destroyed the most dangerous monsters, paved many roads, rebuilt many guard posts, and repaired three lighthouses. They had cut down the jungle and cleared out debris, and even plowed and sowed fields with corn and sweet potato. Bless you, island — we did not rest, ourselves, but you would rest.

  And I was lucky — I had a good rest.

  I was sitting here, red-cheeked and red eyed. Yes, red-cheeked and red-eyed. The effect would last until the end of today. The meat caught by Roska special fish was delicate. The chef fell to his knees when we offered up the fish. It turned out that this fish was caught not more than a dozen times around their island — for several centuries. There was a special recipe for its preparation — and he persuaded us to follow it. He took a lot of money for the expensive spices, special oil and giant clay pan. He prepared. We ate with pleasure — not forgetting to share with the chef. In the morning I blushed. And my skin was not just a reddish shade, but bright red. I was basically scalded. And my eyes … they could make any demon proud.

  In addition to the color, I received plus sixty to strength for a week, plus thirty endurance for just as long, and plus two percent life for thirty days. The catch turned out to be noble … An excellent dish for muscular warriors going to battle. Kirea was happy. I was proud of my red cheeks. And now I was listening to Bom screaming, threatening to tear out the trunk of the mammoth — even though Kolyvan did not eat the fish.

  “Well?” The Baroness purred, putting a cup of excellent coffee in front of me — flavored with rum.

  “A cold wind,” Klest sighed, throwing a tight cloak of white wool over my shoulders. “As a gift to you, buddy. Be healthy.”

  “Take this,” Goldie shoved the Bulletin Valdira, freshly printed, into my hand. “Read about the news of the world. An interesting read. By the way, you are very red ...”

  “Thank you, thank you,” I nodded, pulling off the woolen cloak – unnecessary in the tropics.

  “Well?” Repeated the Baroness. “A few papers … letters and words half-washed. Should I help you make them out?”

  “We are keen to!” confirmed Klest.

  “And very clever!” Whisper said, stumbling towards me with a bottle of wine. I had not seen him for ages. “Let us drink to our meeting, my friend! Let us remember the old days!”

  “It will not work!” I could not stand it. “I really cannot take it. Really.”

  “You yourself suggested starting a constructive conversation,” Klest said, raising his eyebrows in surprise.

  “That’s it,” I nodded. “You to me — I to you. And you could get to the point without a prelude.”

  Indeed, I had personally mentioned that I had, perhaps, very reliable information about new obstacles in our future path. The fact was that the information I had was similar to a full jug of fresh milk delivered to the sun. I did not know how true my theories were and it could happen that the above-mentioned sea creatures either did not appear at all, and that would not put me in the best light — or else, the devilish creatures would start to appear when the Tidal Death was still vaguely visible behind the stern. If even one of the “fish-bottles” emerged now and swallowed one of the escort ships — the part of the page associated with this monster would immediately become obsolete. Its price would be a couple of pennies, no more. And at that very moment many sailors would take offense at me — those who would be on a swallowed ship.

  After all, what happened? Rosgard knew about the terrible danger, but he did not say anything! He bargained for every coin, and he tightened the bargain too much — and the trouble came. The offended players would not be meticulous about who was right and who was to blame. All would fall on me.

  I was balancing on the edge of a knife. And therefore, I chose my words carefully — deciding, at least this time, not to act out of spite. I informed the Baroness and her assistants that, on my last fishing trip, my daughter had caught an incredibly valuable fish-box. And that inside were not magical scrolls or precious stones, but only a couple of wet sheets of paper. No precise coordinates. But all the same.

  A pair of mossy sheets of the ship’s log. I did not talk about the third sheet — which was the very first — where the background was described in detail and the names of many sailors were recalled, and the connection of Captain Klock to Akelrome was given. Because it would not be worth it for the Baroness to send anyone to the Venice of Valdira for information. The conversation with Malice abruptly brought me back to life. As if a shard of ice had been stuck under my shoulder— like in the story of the ice queen. Therefore — I had a few words to parse about these pages, and the terrible monsters, which could make the heart of the most seasoned sailor tremble. I did not say anything else. He went to the railing and listened to Bom, who was yelling at the elf, who looked like a boiled crab, and lamenting before Kirea. What was interesting was that Bom treated Kirea much more softly than he did the others. And with great respect, I think.

  The leaders behind me, the Sleepless, exchanged glances, whispered, and tried to arrange a party where I would play the part of a somewhat offended but generous little man, who needed only a few trifling gifts and a few kind words to begin telling. It did not work. Not out of my greed — it just did not work and that is it.

  And the Baroness understood my attitude. She looked into my eyes, and her face became as serious as it was in our first “full” meeting near the musty, dank swamp of Ravendark. At that meeting, I had sent her quite far away and not very nicely. Now I had no such intention, but I was just as determined. The Baroness understood everything correctly. She lifted her narrow palm, made an easy gesture, and all the assistants instantly evaporated, leaving coffee and wine on the wide railing. The white cloak was also carried away.

  “The information is important. And we are all in the same boat, Ros,” said she. “Why do you not want to tell us? After all, we would be able to develop a strategy in advance, and tactics to counteract the new threat.”

  “I understand,” I nodded. “But you must agree — it is not for you and the Sleepless to reproach me for greed. I am pretty sure I did more than many of your clan members. And I did it for free — it is not about our contract and not about the Outland. You helped me too — and my daughter. Should we consider who needs who?”

  “I was not going to ...”

  “A living ship engine class? You decided to prepare this fate for me?”

  “Mana. A lot of mana.”

  “And I understand that, too. Additional guarantees. But I was offended, BB — after all, yesterday I added up my characteristics points, counted my amount of mana, and figured out what would happen if I dressed in the appropriate outfit. And it turns out I could easily cast it right now.”

  “If you are killed several times …”

  “And if they kill us all a few times? I understand your motives are so layered they are like onions. And the more layers you rip off to get to the center, the more you cry.”

  “Wow ...”

  “Yeah … maybe I should always dye my skin red? Helps the brain. Well? Is there going to be any serious bargaining? The into is hot, in my opinion.”

  “And if it isn’t?”

  “Well, and you try and see. I give you a whole sheet. And on that sheet there will be about two or even three new terrible creatures you will soon see — although I may be wrong.”

  “Well …” She always knew how to make a decision very quickly. “What did you wa
nt to know?”

  “What’s in that basket with all the bonuses? What would the Great Navigator get after activating the cover spell? What’s in that for me? That is what I need from you. Will I have something very interesting to you, especially after the discovery of the lost continent?”

  “Yes.”

  “And? Do not torment my ungodly soul.”

  “There are some very interesting opportunities ...”

  “And what is the most-most interesting? And what comes second? This is the price. I would had found out myself, but nothing was said about it in the books. And I could not assume.”

  “Damn … you know how to get me, Ros. Does the devil protect you? Did a gypsy whisper to you as a child?”

  “Maybe she did. So what? What would I get?”

  “A dozen teleports,” the Baroness decided. “Mass teleports, working at any distance, able to take you anywhere in the world of Valdira. In fact, really anywhere. Private property, whatever. Who the hell needs private property? We found out yesterday afternoon. A very long and tedious task- a chain of more than a hundred links- had ended. Yesterday we completed the last assignment and received a malachite ancient tile with this warning. And all fell into pure shock, into rejoicing, into fright. Ros, you would have at your disposal twelve tickets to anywhere in the world. That is, you could return to the old continent instantly. And to drag with you all or all that was within a ten-meter circle around you. And then you could jump back again to Zar’Graad. And back again to bring a lot of cargo or manpower. Only twelve jumps. If you want — jump from one city square to another. And if you want — from one end of the world to another.”

  “I did not expect this,” I admitted, scratching my head in a daze, and losing my composure at once. “A dozen jumps…”

  “All of us would be locked on the new continent until we build an artifact teleporter. All except you. And those you want to take with you. And surely you wouldn’t want to take the Sleepless with you.”

  “I did not even want to think about it — I am talking about selling tickets for non-existent jumps between the continents,” I cut the air with my hand.“There could not be such a generous reward. The Navigator is already getting rich — just for posting the ships, I am paid so much … well, you know better than me, because you already paid me. I am already rich. Well, by my standards. It is the real world. But even during the campaign, even if I did not count the already existing gold mine, I have earned a lot. The same with An Gdar. But there are still many days to go, and maybe something else will turn up, right? So, when I asked about bonuses in a gift basket for the Navigator, I thought you would tell me something about a magic bonus for the murder of local monsters, or maybe that I’d suddenly become popular for the local people, if there are any. This is logical! We arrive — you have gifts, a wreath around my neck, a couple of hugs and kisses from the local beauties — all just like the Ring of Peace. And no more. Well — and there is more! But a dozen jumps — a dozen! — In any part of the world Valdira … I did not think about it! I could not imagine it, myself. This is an abnormal prize.”