A Cruel Tale

by Alex Sapegin

  “So it turns out you were in the mountains while I was looking for you in the archives.”

  “Yes, I didn’t believe my own senses and decided to make sure my eyes weren’t playing tricks on me. The ancients’ artifact hadn’t been checked in a few hundred years, and how could it have? Only the Rauu princes know where it’s located, and there hasn’t been any reason to head off to the highlands for a couple thousand years. When I got there with my entourage, I found out that the cave where it’s hidden had suffered from an earthquake. The passage on the far end was piled up with debris from a landslide, but another passage had opened. My subordinates studied it in detail and discovered copper plates with runes imprinted on them. After they had cleaned all the dirt off the plates, we were able to read that the ancients had wanted to convey to us. This unexpected find shed a lot of light on things and opened my eyes. The world is at a crossroads. The Woodies are completely unaware that their venture is doomed to failure. When the old trees dry up, a magical recoil effect will hit the whole Forest. It won’t allow the young shoots they planted to swallow energy from the astral. Mages all over the world will have no mana and become ordinary people. The Forest Elves won’t get off that easily—they’ll die along with the Mellornys. The last dragons will go after the Woodies. They live longer and their suffering will last much longer. The Rauu, the vampires, and the Dawn-bringer elf races will be dissolved into the human tribes. But now back to me, you, and Frida. Did her parents tell you anything about the possibility of having children?” Andy shook his head. The old elf’s words were filling him with horror. “You can’t have children.” Seeing how Andy tensed up in his chair at the sound of this, the Rauu lifted his hand reassuringly. “Don’t get ahead of yourself. You’re not sterile. A simple dragoness or a were-dragoness can become the mother of your children, but never a human, elf, or vampire. But a simple girl who has lived with a were-dragon is capable of giving birth to a fully universal mage by another man.”

  This time Andy stood up. Something went off in his head.

  “A fully universal mage? You were interested in my foster parents and turning children into… into dragons?”

  “Yes…,” Miduel turned away from Andy’s eyes, sparkling with rage. “The responsibility lays on each of us like a heavy load, but I am not willing to and cannot take it upon myself. I don’t want to become the monster who sends children to certain death. That’s why I canceled the wedding of my great grandson to Frida. I canceled it despite the Prince of the Foothill Principality’s wishes and despite the tempting possibility of getting a great, great, great grandchild who’s a dragon and, as Targ would have it, a true blood. I canceled it so I would never be tempted … I canceled it, and that’s all. It’s possible my decision will push the world one small step closer to the edge, but I don’t want to be tormented by my conscience. I’ve come through a lot, and I’m ready to go through much more, but not that. I had to order the others to act haughty around her so she wouldn’t think of marrying another one of the Icicles. Arrogance and conceit are more off-putting than anything else. I feared the burden of being responsible. You can run away from the world—but not from yourself. I’m afraid for all Ilanta. The world does not have any chance left….”

  “Not one?”

  “Not one,” Miduel stood up. “There are practically no more dragons left.”

  “Yes, if people keep hunting them, the end of the world will come even sooner. It’s your fault, partly,” Andy said, unable to restrain himself. His face was a mask of indifference, carefully hiding his wrath.

  “How so?”

  “You left the dragons alone right when they needed your help.”

  “You don’t understand...”

  “I understand everything,” Andy interrupted the elf. He jumped up from his chair and stood facing the High Prince. “The Lords of the Sky, insane after the attack on the Forest, were horrifying even to themselves. But after special squadrons of Rauu and Woodies killed all the crazy ones, why didn’t you forbid dragon hunting? What stopped you from doing that? You could have. I’ll tell you what—fear of their great power and the black smoldering ashes where the Great Forest used to be. Even a small portion of the winged beasts was stronger and more horrible than a whole army any of the states that existed at that time could come up with. Humans, elves, and Arians decided to quietly soothe their shameful fears through the hunters’ greedy thoughts; by cunning and perfidy destroying the disconnected nests. It’s too bad for the dragons that they’re so independent and individualistic. There wasn’t anyone who could unite them, and the Rauu had lost their trust. It’s about trust—the dragons don’t trust anyone anymore, including their former allies and creations. That’s why you don’t have a chance at saving the world. And the dragons can easily survive the death of the forests; they’re the ones who planted the first woods in Ilanta. That’s where the connection comes from; nothing secret about it. It’s just that the Forest Elves would rather forget that fact. They’d rather burn any trace of the Lords of the Sky from their memories. I’m refusing to help you not just because I don’t want to, but also because if I did, no one would follow me. The dragons won’t accept an elven puppet, no matter what you call it. I can guess what you’re planning to offer me.”

  “What?”

  “Two possibilities: protection and security in exchange for mana, or, the other option would be to restore the winged tribe. As for the first—dragons aren’t cows to be milked, and as for the second, I saw how you sized up Lanirra, and I learned a lot from the look on your face. If it’s possible to do anything, it will be done, without anyone’s help. You have to deal with this,” Andy slapped his palm down on the pile of papers on the table.

  “What’s that?” Miduel asked.

  “It’s the helrats’ recordings: their correspondence, accounting books, promissory notes and selections from their archives.”

  “The helrats?”

  “Yes. That monastery to the One God was their base, and in that temple they made sacrifices. The crystals that collect mana are the pieces of their statue of Hel. I had to give those brutes so much mana, they couldn’t hold it all. Clean out your Aegean stables,” Andy voiced his earlier thought referring to the Greek myth. He thought it was a smart analogy.

  Miduel was taken aback:

  “What stables?”

  “Oh, geez. The manure in your backyard that’s built up over the course of centuries. The servants of Hel wove their little nests not only here! I meant it when I said these papers would come in very handy to you and the dwarfs. Make a law that says killing a dragon is punishable by death. You’re the only one, besides my parents, who I really trust. You can do that all over—with the Rauu, the humans, the dwarfs…. I understand everything, but when Rauu women start buying blood and extracts made from a dragon’s glands… and I won’t even say anything about the Woodies. It’s all here, in these documents. Promise me you’ll investigate it without bias.”

  “What do you want for these papers? As I understand it, you’ve got a reason for collecting them.”

  “A portal.”

  “What?”

  “I want a portal. I want your mages to build a portal today. I myself will give it the finishing touch. Soon there’ll be so many investigators and mages here, you’ll have to elbow your way through the crowd. There’ll be freeloaders from different guilds, and I have absolutely no desire to be here when they show up. I don’t want to become an object of research. I’ll get away somehow… can you make up some excuse for me?”

  “I can. What else have you got here?”

  “Bank account numbers in Imperial banks, enormous sums, saved up over hundreds of years, and empty checkbooks—carte blanche for the bearer.” Miduel instantly caught his drift. The Rauu’s squinting eyes gave away his brain’s frenzied work. “If you take all the debt bills of the Empire stored in the treasuries of the Rauu principalities and Tantre, it’s enough money to collapse the banking system of Pat and devalue the imperial.[13
] In a state of financial crisis, the Empire can’t wage a war. It’s long since fallen under the heels of the big money bags from the banking houses.”

  “How old are you?” Miduel said finally said after a long silence.

  “In half a year, I’ll be nineteen.”

  “Impossible! Tell me where you’re getting all this from?” Miduel spread his hands helplessly. His gaze shifted from object to object. For a brief moment, it rested on Andy, who had read an unspoken question in his eyes, then moved to the scandalous papers lying on the table, and again returned to the were-dragon.

  “From Alo Troi.” Andy sat down in the chair and turned away from the Rauu. “It was difficult for him to remember the Rimm dungeons and the cage, but keeping it all inside was even harder. The fortress of self-control can’t always hold one’s emotions. His conversation with Miduel thoroughly shook his foundations.”

  “I remember him. A capable youth, a strong sharp-wit, the best analyst you could ask for. Alo worked in the archives quite often,” the High Prince said, taking up the other seat.

  “He’d been there. He died right in front of me, teaching me Alat. Along with the language, I practically swallowed his personality. A part of his knowledge that was lying on the surface was transferred to me. Now does your behavior model make sense?”

  “Not yet, and it won’t. Alo was never known for the logical nature of his actions. Sharp-wits are always a little out of this world.” Miduel stood up. “When should we build the portal?”

  “This evening, by eight o’clock.”

  “Alright. Do you want to jump right home?”

  “Yes, you’re very observant, as always.” Andy bowed and walked out of the tent.

  Andy glanced pensively at Timur, who was shifting his weight from side to side, and Ilnyrgu, who was clutching the head of her sword. He rubbed his hair back and, wiping the sweat off his forehead, said:

  “Well, we had a nice chat. Il, let’s get packed. In four hours, the mages will build a portal.”

  ***

  “When are you leaving?” Andy asked.

  Timur straightened his flight jacket and looked at Frida, who was holding Kerr by the elbow. It was sad: they were both suffering. Ice again. Would they remain separated from one another like that, by a spell that freezes feelings?

  “In an hour. Just before you guys. The mages are opening the portal to Orten.”

  “To Orten? You’re not going back to your unit?” Frida asked, surprised.

  “No, by a royal order all mages, including students who haven’t completed their studies, are to be sent to training as combat mages. While you were sharing secrets with the High Prince, the squadron second-in-command from the griffon wing got in touch with the commander of my unit and made sure I was alive and relatively healthy. I won’t describe the gross-dert’s joy when he found ‘cause the only normal word he used was my name. The rest of ‘em, in a civilized society, you can get called to a duel for. But it still made me glad: the guys and the commander were really very worried about me.”

  “Did you...” Andy began.

  “I didn’t tell them where I was. The second-in-command of the High Prince’s griffons asked me not to go into detail.”

  “And Rigaud? Any word from him?” Andy really missed the blabbermouth. Rigaud, despite his disorganized lifestyle and the out-of-character (for him) jealousy that reared its ugly head on the last day of lessons at Berg’s school, was the cement that held the young men together despite their differences and made them true friends.

  “Rigaud’s already in Orten. We’ll see each other there. True, I’ll have to go to the commandant’s office to get my orders, but after a couple of hours I’m sure I’ll turn back around.”

  “Give him our best, from me and Frida. And…,” Andy put his hand in his pocket, “and this is for you.” A couple crystals lay on his open palm, glowing neon. They were just like the ones the mages were collecting on their hands and knees in the destroyed temple, but with one difference: these were as big as a nickel.

  “I can’t accept that. Do you know how much an energy accumulator like that costs?”

  “Yes, I do.” Andy looked at Frida guiltily, removed her hand from his arm and hugged Timur. “I know, Timur: they’re not worth more than my life. Take ‘em. The mages that arrived with Master Miduel are now gathering up the shards from that statue. I charged them with mana.” Timur’s jaw dropped. “Yes, now you know my other secret and you can imagine why the High Prince was looking for me. As for the stones—I’ll have more peace of mind knowing you and Rigaud have some extra mana reserves at your disposal. I don’t have very many true friends, and I don’t want to lose them because their internal reserves run dry at the wrong time. If you want, I can charge you ten more like this.” With these words, he put the crystals in Timur’s hand and tightly closed his fist around them. It turns out the “icy silence” didn’t stamp out all traces of emotion. Andy’s heart was now filling up with sadness. He missed the old days as students, which had turned out to be some of the best in his life. With every fiber of his soul, he wished his friends would find their happiness and not perish in the fires of the approaching war.

  “Thank you…,” Timur said, swallowing a lump in his throat. Frida smiled as she felt Timur’s sincere gratitude, childish joy, and the giddiness of a school boy who’s found a treasure. She winked at Andy and took a small bundle from her breast pocket.

  “And this is for your girlfriend,” the vampire handed the amazed big kid one more shining trinket. The shard was in the shape of a heart. “I know someone who might be a good candidate, and if you act a bit bolder and more stubborn, Lubayel will turn her shield towards the winner.” Timur blushed. “She’s an icicle on the outside, but inside… she likes you.” She uttered these last three words in a conspiratorial whisper into the crimson ear.

  Frida kissed Timur on the cheek and, grabbing Andy’s elbow again, pulled him towards the orcs, who were packing up the tents on the platform. After a few minutes of standing there, Timur headed towards the Snow Elves’ camp with a decisive step.

  “?!”

  “She really likes him,” the vampire answered the question on the were-dragon’s face, his eyebrows high. “Lubayel is being sent to Orten. Maybe things will work out for them.” Andy nodded. He was wondering if anything would work out for them. For the last few hours, he’d been feeling as if he were in a red-hot frying pan. Lani’s jealous glares were burning him from one side, and from the other—the quiet hatred and jealousy of the K’Rauu. Apparently, the purple guy’s partial to Frida. Hope he doesn’t do anything devious out of unrequited love… but actually, he seems like a pretty good guy, nice and all….

  At the camp, they weren’t able to sit around. Right away Ilnyrgu roped both love birds into helping unpack the tents and carrying various baggage here and there. Tyigu and the dragonlings were buzzing around the orcs. Their happy game of tag didn’t add to the order or organization, of course, but no one dared chastise the frolicsome children.

  Andy packed bales and looked at the group of mages setting up trellises on the portal site. Il mentioned in no uncertain terms that sorcerers can trace from the magic the coordinates of the exit point, and so, if he didn’t want the location of his parents’ valley to become known to a wide circle of people, he should exit some other place. He had to think. When someone goes through a portal, something called a short track is formed. By studying its intensity at the moment, the passage is closed and the force of the “residual” burst, mages can calculate the distance from the endpoint and the direction thereto. It was too late to change his mind; the spatial coordinates of his home, given to him at some point by Jaga, were firmly fixed in his head. He ought to think of countermeasures ahead of time; he couldn’t allow the portal to be opened a second time by using the gate as it faded away. He would send all the others in his group straight to the valley, while he still had a few things to take care of….

  The portal to Orten was open in an hour
.

  “Don’t be a stranger.” Timur slapped Andy on the shoulder. “Come visit me some time.”

  “You stay in touch too.” His eyes, with their yellow vertical pupils, looked in the direction of the elf Lubayel. A blue glowing shard in the shape of a heart from the statue of Hel hung from her neck in the deep recess between her breasts. “Rigaud taught you well!”

  The mage standing near the frame smiled politely.

  “It’s time. Say your goodbyes quickly, gentlemen!” The operator of the portal arch set an hourglass on the small folding table. “You have three minutes.”

  “Take care of yourself and Frida.” Timur squeezed his friend’s hand and stepped through the teleport. After him, Lubayel and a couple of mages with bags full of crystals followed through the haze.

  “May the mercy and kindness of the Twins be with you,” the elf said in parting.

  “We’ll now change the portal’s destination point,” the operator announced. “Should be ready for transport in half an hour. Please do not delay in providing the exit point.”

  ***

  Thirty minutes later, the portal was so crowded, no one had any elbow room. Fifteen mages were crammed onto the little platform, greedily looking at the saddlebag hanging on the back of the hass Slaisa was leading by the bridle. Even through the thick leather, the power of the large chunks of the former statue shone through. Andy shifted his weight from one paw to the other and licked his chops—what’s in the pocket just in case never seems to take up space. He could still recall many Russian proverbs, and this one seemed to fit the situation. It meant some people had no need for more, but took it just in case. Ilnyrgu promised to place active defense mechanisms along the access roads to the valley. She would need the shards to power them. Miduel stood apart from the mages. In four hours, the elf had managed to get fairly familiar with the helrats’ documents, and now the Rauu’s face constantly reflected the painful thoughts he was enduring. Melima was supporting her great-great-grandfather by the arm. She and Frida had sat in the High Prince’s tent for the last hour. Andy wasn’t interested in knowing what they were talking about, but, apparently, the girls had come to a mutual understanding. Both the Rauu and the vampire had red noses and wet eyeballs after their conversation. Two dozen warriors stood around the High Prince, in full battle gear with activated defensive amulets. One got the impression that the dragons were preparing to attack the old elf. The griffon riders came to satisfy their curiosity. The whole crowd was humming loudly, with a few individuals, not shy, speaking at the top of their lungs. The griffons’ clucking added to the cacophony.