Читать книгу Dame Dragon - - Страница 3

Rose and I parted ways for good. She had settled into her Black Magnolia Manor somewhere in the meanest corner of the human world, I had stayed in the Magic Empire, and I could consider myself a happy bachelor. Outwardly, I was very handsome and young, and I knew I would never age a year. I could choose whoever I wanted to keep me company, but I had grown accustomed to solitude. It did not prevent me from enjoying life; on the contrary, in the absence of an all-consuming love for one object, everything around me seemed to become more beautiful. I lay in the fields of hops and lazily watched the leprechauns milling about in the thickets. They were hiding or looking for gold. I had more than I could count. And if we talk about romantic pursuits, Rose is not the only beauty in the whole world. I’ve recently begun to notice far more beautiful fairies than her in my Empire. I wonder where they used to be. Probably right under my nose, I was just too blind and obsessed with one person to pay attention to anyone else. Falling in love blinds people and even creatures like me. It makes one person seem more beautiful and desirable than all the other creatures in the universe. It’s just self-deception, like witchcraft.

I used to be stupefied like all those creatures. They fell asleep in the fields of this hop. A couple of leprechauns, regardless of the danger, sneezed at the pungent odor and began to fall asleep right beneath the soles of my boots. One dozed right under my palm between my fingers. I squeezed it in my fist, but it didn’t even squeak, except to snort. Yeah, the hops in my fields are pretty stupefying. If a village fool had been lucky enough to come here, he could have easily caught the leprechaun and claimed his treasure, if he had not fallen asleep earlier.

I was only slightly intoxicated by the stupefying aroma, and that was only because I was in a melancholy mood today. The sun was shining brightly, even too brightly. I felt good about the fact that I was finally alone and that I didn’t have to worry about anyone else. No matter how I looked at it, the flighty and unscrupulous Princess Rose was the biggest problem in my century-long life. And since my life was endless, I couldn’t, like mortals, get rid of an annoying marriage by simply going to my grave. The only way was to get a divorce and forget about Rose like a festering wound that suddenly healed.

It would be worth throwing a grand party for the entire Empire to celebrate my release. The only hindrance was that because of the feast, they might think that I was going to choose a new ruler, or at least a favorite. I didn’t want that just yet. The solitude was too pleasant. I am my own master again. The dragon no longer has a mistress, no object of worship. Only treasure, power, irresistible strength, and undying youth remained. And somewhere in the back of my mind there was a dark feeling that I had lost the most valuable of my treasures.

It was a feeling that could be dealt with. It was foolish to compare a half mortal woman to the most expensive of my jewelry or the most exquisite of the sculptures that adorned my castle. My treasury hadn’t suffered at all after Rose left, even though the former empress had tried to take as much wealth as possible with her. She still sent servants to demand more money from me. I never refused her, because the gold in my coffers never ran out anyway. In the past, her extravagance couldn’t ruin me either. I could manage my business well with magic, but that wasn’t the reason for my wealth.

I threw my head back and looked straight into the blazing sun. My eyes hurt for just a moment, or maybe it just seemed that way. The sun can’t burn me. After all, I came from it. The light of the dawn, the son of the dawn, Dennitsa… my father! The sun is a part of him since time immemorial, gold is his substance, scattered at the fall all over the world, so no wonder it all belongs to me. I should be pleased with myself, with my high and inhuman origin, my luxurious possessions and my limitless power over all living things. Father had ceded his place to me, and still I wanted to see him. To feel the touch of his wing again, to look into his eyes, the color of the azure sky, to look at the face of the angel who had once been by far the most beautiful of all.

Many times when I fell asleep, I hoped that I would dream of him again, but I never dreamed of him again. It was as if a life-giving spring had stopped flowing, renewing me in some way. I was just Edwin again. Everything divine was gone with Madeel. I was just a young man, a dragon with an unusually handsome face and untold treasures that I not only guarded, but continued to hoard.

The sun was at its zenith. I stared at it for so long that the sun’s disk began to double in my eyes. My curls, like golden rye, scattered across the grass. The smell of hops was stupefying. It was stronger now.

I fell asleep and had a strange dream. In this dream I was half human and half dragon. The transformation was not complete. I was still wearing my camisole, but my limbs were dragon-like. The claws seemed especially sharp, and the lady in front of me was fragile and defenseless. I easily ripped the earrings from her ears with my claws before I realized I was ripping the earrings from Rose’s ears. Blood trickled down her neck from the torn earlobes, bright and scarlet. It stood out starkly against her pale skin. I suddenly realized that it was no longer skin, but marble. It was just a marble bust in front of me, not Rose. But its earlobes were chipped.

I woke up with the feeling that the earrings that had been ripped from Rose’s ears were still in my hands. Of course, it was just a feeling after a vivid dream. They say there are prophetic dreams. Or is that just a misconception? Who should I ask when only I should know everything without error? I’m the one to go to for advice and dream interpretation. In my castle chambers, unlike the court of my mortal foster father, there were no sullen astrologers or alchemists. I was the only one who decided everything here. No predictions and no fear of the pressure of prophecy. My power was absolute, I had nothing to fear. The future was I and my power, everything else was the past.

Everyone internalized this well, and no one objected. My subjects respected me and feared me. But now I myself would have to be afraid. The dream was frighteningly realistic. It was truly prophetic. It was brought upon me by the vengeful Rose herself. She’d been practicing witchcraft at the highest level for a long time, and though I’d done her no wrong, she was always looking for some reason to get back at me.

Only now I felt no one invading my mind. No one was trying to bewitch me or annoy me for petty reasons. I easily recognized the magical influence on me and reflected it with my charms like a shield. It would be turned toward the one who cast it. Everyone knew how dangerous it was to invade my mind or try to bewitch me. That was the only reason why I didn’t fall victim to the spell of all the local sorceresses who were ready to take the vacant place of the empress. I could be attracted by their beautiful faces, but their charms against me were completely useless.

Only Rose I forgave everything, so she tried to attack me more than once. But it wasn’t her now. The dream seemed dangerous and prophetic.

The sun was still shining brightly, but it was as if a dark cloud had fallen over me. I looked across the field, which seemed almost endless. The maple forest was black on the side, and some of the small leaves on the maples were pure gold, but no one dared to tear them off. In this part of my country, a clear day never ended because the sun was always at its zenith. And some things or plants here had the property of turning to gold by themselves. But if someone tried to steal them, they would become grass or leaves again. I could only give someone a precious gift of my own accord. You can’t sneak anything from me. Anyone who steals from a dragon is likely to take rot instead of gold, as well as his own misfortune and death.

Perhaps that was the only reason why the dwarf, who was traveling south with a loaded cart, looked enviously at the charms of the surrounding plains, but dared not touch anything. At first I mistook him for one of Rose’s messengers, so I wouldn’t even stop him if he picked a golden plant or two. Rose sent her servants here so often for more gold that I had gotten used to letting load their carts or baskets or canvas sacks in silence, because I knew that the sooner they could satisfy her appetite, the sooner they would be out of here. I had never even once conveyed to her with the messengers the advice to use her own sorcery rather than my savings to accomplish her goals. Ever since we’d met, I’d been in the habit of sharing everything I had with her. I must have done it for nothing, because it didn’t make her any kinder.

The last thing I wanted to do was talk or bargain with her messenger. So when the ragged gnome approached, I just laid down deeper in the grass, almost crushing the leprechauns, who were tangled in my hair and sleeping sweetly. They squeaked resentfully, attracting his attention.

By etiquette, he should have bowed to me as soon as he came within sight of the hop fields, or not set foot in them at all. It was mainly because of his tactlessness that I mistook him for Rosa’s servant. Her entourage was always remarkably loose. Well, and also shabby. Even with plenty of money, Rose never spent a penny on her subjects. It was her rule. Her servants were always hungry, thieving, hustling, and very poorly dressed. The dwarf’s tattered and slightly scorched clothes were a pity.

If he hadn’t been Rose’s servant, I might have helped him. I felt obliged to look after the welfare of my subjects. Therefore, there were no needy within my Empire. All the needy remained in Rose’s retinue. Strangely, both Rose and I had been raised in the royal court, where we were both supposed to be accustomed to mercy and charity, as well as caring for all who obeyed us. Although I was wrongly considered the youngest son, deprived of the right to inherit the throne, the educators managed to instill in me a desire to care for the welfare of all my subjects. Rose was born and raised as the sole heir to the throne. She wanted to ruin and offend absolutely everyone. She acted like a bitter abandoned spouse who was ready to tear and throw without any reason, and she seemed to have no reason to do so. She was the one who left me, not me who drove her away.

The dwarf also behaved like a very frightened and battered creature, but he had nothing to fear here. I’ve never hurt anyone in my empire. And I certainly never attacked anyone who wouldn’t hurt me first.

I decided it was my duty to stand up and explain to him that all subjects of the Empire were under my protection. By subjects, in this case, I meant all those who had left me to serve Rose at her new estate, which stood at the crossroads where magical roads intersected with those of mortals. For that reason, Diarmand Manor was hard to find, even for me. It had been called that before, but now it was better known as the Palace of Black Magnolias, as it was overgrown with flowers that were alive and hungry for travelers’ blood.

I was curious to find out from the dwarf the latest news: how many travelers had gone missing in those lands in recent days, how many surrounding villages had fallen under Rosa’s spell, how many noblemen who lived nearby had perished from her charms. Since I myself have already been freed from her oppression, I would only laugh at the way she tortures others. Besides, I liked to talk to dwarves about things I had loved since my human youth.

Except that the dwarf’s reaction to my courtesy was extremely unexpected. When I was about to get up, he jumped up on the spot, squeaked something like that he apologized for everything in advance and asked not to touch him, and was so. The only thing was the dust on the path, on which he ran away from me, and at a speed with which birds do not fly.

Wow! I remember that chubby dwarves like him were always extremely clumsy. Who knows, maybe he was lucky enough to get some speeding boots or some other magic item that allowed him to become an unrivaled runner. He had to give up the cart, though.

I reluctantly got up and looked inside. To my surprise, there was no treasure. So the dwarf wasn’t afraid of being denounced as a thief for embezzling the dragon’s treasury. Apparently, he hadn’t even come close to my treasury. The cart was loaded only with household goods and some unpretentious tools that were usually used for work in the mines. Gee, I thought he was afraid he’d run into my claws in his rush to satisfy Rosa’s greed. But it looks like he’s just going to relocate. But he did feel guilty about acting so cautiously. Maybe it was the shadow of the dragon in my eyes that scared him. Some people were said to have the gift of seeing it right above my head. It seemed especially creepy on a sunny day, since it was pitch black.

With nothing to do, I decided to follow the gnome. His footprints were still clearly visible in the road dust, and where the chain of footprints broke, I resorted to magic. It showed me by a golden thread the way to the very depths of the forest where the rogue had evidently lived before he met me.

There was indeed a tiny door in the trunk of an oak tree. It had been locked with magic before, like any such dwelling, but now it stood open. The dwelling had an abandoned look. There was a strong smell of fumes. There was some kind of experimentation going on here that had led to an explosion in an underground mine that was most definitely located deep beneath these grounds. I peered through the open door. Inside everything was coal-black. The stairway down was almost all burned out. The oak tree itself, scorched from the inside, had not collapsed only because of a spell cast on it long ago. No wonder why the owner of the house was in such a hurry to leave the place.

I should have helped the poor man and repaired the place with magic. I prepared to do so, but the smell of burnt grass reached my nostrils. I looked around and found that the trees nearby were standing with burnt branches. Curious, who would allow a forest fire on my property?

I walked a little farther and there were dozens of fallen, scorched trees. The dryads must have died in them! Would I be able to bring them back to life? I touched the scorched bark lightly, and it crumbled to ash beneath my fingers. The smell of burning was no less alarming than the noxious black vapors over the soil. Only dragon fire could smell like that! But I wasn’t burning anything here. Was I drunk and didn’t realize what I was doing. No, I immediately dismissed that notion. When I drink, I don’t usually get tipsy. It’s a peculiarity of mine. Still, the flattering ashes were very reminiscent of the aftermath of a quick dragon raid. The many burned trees looked like the houses of a ravaged settlement, with at least one spirit living in each trunk. What kind of scoundrel could have released a spell that caused such damage? Besides, the wretch was so strong and reckless that he dared to ride into my territory. The suspicion of Vincent was very strong. He must have found some way to break down all the magical barriers to the Empire from his return and seek revenge on me for sending him away. The idiot didn’t realize how easily I could snap his neck. He’d gained at the School of Witchcraft the meager experience, of which he was quite proud. He was quickly kicked out of the school, but he was easily the bane of anyone foolish enough to make contact with him. In this case, it was my curse.

The entire lawn behind the woods was burned. It used to be fragrant with forget-me-nots and a stream of healing water. Now it was only the scorched to ashes soil that gave off such noxious fumes as if a black monster had lain beneath it.

A memory immediately struck my head: a whole scorched country that had once flourished, and then there was nothing left but poisonous soil that would never bear fruit again, and underneath the layers of which a huge black monster was burrowing. That country was my homeland. Now there was no life in it, except for the ash monsters that swallowed ships lost at sea.

The memory was very unpleasant, and I hurried away from the scorched meadow. I’ll come back here later and use magic to fix it. For now, I needed to get out and about. It would be nice to catch the dwarf and ask him what was going on. But he’s gone to ground. Maybe he decided to go down to the Underground City, where Henri would catch him and bring him back.

The road back to the fields of hops and poppies was short. If it hadn’t been for the bloody trail dragging along it, it would have been a pleasant walk. I noticed the chain of blood. Not too bright, almost a woody hue, it looked more like the blood of a dryad than anything else. I looked around for the injured party, but only spotted a stunted mushroom fairy, looking more like a little girl wearing a huge mushroom-shaped hat on her head. To my surprise, she was crying. Usually these creatures are very cheerful, especially when there’s an opportunity for mischief.

“Why are you doing this, Monsignor?” She sobbed. “Why did you have to burn our clearing, aren’t there enough mortal kingdoms?”

“What do you mean?” I looked at her carefully, but she carefully hid her crying mushroom-colored eyes from me. “I haven’t burned anything in years,” and it was true, I was careful to keep the flames inside me, even though it was hard at times. The fire was like a rabid monster, and it took a lot of self-concentration and a lot of unauthorized charms to fight it. “Besides, it’s against my rules to start fires in my own Empire.”

“Is it really?” She looked at me questioningly. It was clear she didn’t believe a word I said. Strange, because usually no one doubted the truth of my words, let alone my orders.

“Go to some party, take some comfort. Tears are not good for you,” I said, and with a bit of enchantment I pulled out a shining flower from the void, covered with gems instead of dewdrops. A generous gift, but I liked the mushroom fairy’s pretty face, so I decided to please her. For a moment she hesitated to accept it from my hands, obviously expecting a trick. It’s a gift from the dragon. Now I’m giving her a beautiful thing, and in a second I’ll turn, grab her in my claws and take her to some black tract for reprisal. The pretty girl pondered, shuffling from foot to foot, and then quickly snatched the flower from my hands, curtsied, and was gone. Was the girl afraid of me? Not so long ago, absolutely everyone liked me. My handsome face and the power of a dragon hidden behind it had attracted a lot of people, not to mention my treasures. And now something subtly changed. I was becoming feared. I felt it most sharply when I went out into the field, where the leprechauns were rummaging in the grass. Most of them were working diligently, plucking straw, tying it into small sheaves and carrying it underground, probably to spin gold from it. They knew how to do that. Others just did round dances to make the crops sing better. Such were their charms and amusements. Usually they didn’t get distracted unless they saw someone nearby who could be pinched to death for trespassing on their territory. Humans were rare in the Empire, and I was everywhere I went. Today, for the first time, when the tiny humans saw me, they stirred, jumped up in their seats, and scurried underground as quickly as if they’d never been here. They even forgot to take off their hats and bow, which was their usual etiquette. Well, I forgave them. I didn’t want to shoot them for such a small thing.

Things were more complicated with the dryad, who was sobbing in a neighboring field. I found her by the bloody trail. A girl with skin partially turned into bark sat on the pressed poppies and wept bitterly. With fists that looked like dry branches, she wiped away brown tears. Her green dress, made of leaves, was visibly scorched. And there was almost nothing left of her legs, which went from her knees to the trunk of the tree as per the rules. As well as from the very tree she lived in. Quite tragic, as the tree was not just a home to her, but a part of herself. What if she couldn’t live without it anymore?

“It was the dragon!” She wailed. “The dragon swooped down and burned down my place. And all the trees around it burned too.”

Unlike the others, she wasn’t frightened when she saw me. She probably hadn’t been out of her tree for thousands of years, and she hadn’t even heard of who I was. Even gossip doesn’t reach hibernating creatures.

I tried to help her up. She seemed to be crawling here, not walking. As I touched her, fresh roots began to grow out of the scorched stumps that could easily replace her legs. In a couple minutes she could walk on them, leaning lightly on my shoulder. Under the long dress, it still couldn’t be seen that she had live tree roots instead of legs.

“Thank you, Monsignor Dragon!”

Her voice sounded like the rustling of leaves. So she knows who I am after all! Then she suppressed her fright because she simply couldn’t run away.

“So you don’t think I burned down your place?”

“I don’t know,” she faltered a little. “That dragon didn’t seem to be gold and…” she pointed to her torn lobe. “He took my earring from me. You wouldn’t do that.”

“And what makes you think that?” I remembered how in the old days I’d robbed mortal kingdoms and taxed supernatural beings. They lived far from the Empire. But I never stooped to ripping jewelry off ladies. She’s right about that.

“It was just copper and carnelian. It would look ridiculous in your treasury. I found it once when I was coming out of the tree.”

“There’s nothing left of your tree?”

She shook her head sullenly. I noticed that one cheek was covered in bark, and her fingers looked more like dry twigs. Still, the dryad was quite pretty.

“I’m Chloe,” she introduced herself with a flirtatious wink. “And I’m not likely to last long, unless there’s a well of life-giving water nearby to help me put down new roots.”

I put my arm around her waist and almost dragged her, trying to remember where there was a well that hadn’t already been inhabited by some malicious creature who had declared himself guardian. The dryad was practically weightless. Walking with her was easy.

“If the well doesn’t work out, I promise I’ll find you a new tree or create one myself,” I promised. That cheered her up. It was important to take care of her now, for she was the injured one, and I could return to the scene of the accident and ask questions later. The ashes of the fire brought some blackness to the sunny day, but I could still enjoy the spring freshness and the scenic views around me. It’s a blessing that the expanse around us isn’t burning yet. It’s strange for me to think so, because I’m used to burning everything, but if this Empire burns down, it’s as if I won’t be there either. At any rate, I’ll be so angry that I’ll probably burn all the mortal domains for it as well. So I well understood Chloe, left without her magical dwelling. There was someone watching us closely from behind, but I didn’t have time to turn around and ask what he wanted from us.