Читать книгу Swan and Dragon. Dragon Empire - Natalie Yacobson - Страница 6

Rose looked around in amazement. Everything disappeared somewhere. There were no more intricate chateau cornices, no ornate facades, and no huge gardens. Instead of taking his captive to the roof, the gloomy villain took her to another space. It was a cleft between two worlds.

Behind the girl’s back were kingdoms, principalities and empires inhabited by people, and in front of them towered blue rocks, blocking mortals from entering the forbidden world.

Blue smoke snaked around the rocks, enveloped the abyss, almost touched the bubbling foam of the river. An aqueduct was thrown across it. A string of patterned, sturdy supports held his stone platform.

The blue rock ahead was shaped like a bastion erected by a shadow architect. Below, the river seethed and twisted in foamy waves around the pillars of the aqueduct, but could not reach the desired height. Rose looked down and felt dizzy. There, as in the palm of your hand, lay the ribbon of the river, entwining the whole country of sorcerers. It was not even a country, but a rocky island, fenced off by a fast, icy current. People called this river Silver because in the darkness its smooth surface shone with silver. It was impossible to wade or swim. It was enough to plunge into the water with just one foot, and it pulled the person like a funnel. Then the body melted into a frothy, liquid silver.

Where its water basins narrowed, arched bridges were thrown, but they were far from safe. Even the halo around the moon here took on an ominous red color.

Having dragged the girl across the bridge, the hunchback pulled out a copper cane from under his cloak, hit it on a flat rock, and immediately a crack formed in the smooth surface. She crawled up, then to the side, drawing some kind of triangular pattern. This drawing turned out to be a door. Someone opened it from the inside. Giant ugly hands grabbed Rose like a toy and threw her into the darkness. The door in the rock closed with a screech, leaving no slit for light.

The princess did not know how long she had to lie face down on the cold floor. But suddenly a torch flashed in the darkness. The flames whipped out dirty, iron bars and padlocks. Some figures moved next to them like shadows, smoothly and silently. Hands, unlike human hands, hugged iron bars. The rustle of long robes was heard.

Several more torches joined the first. They seemed to move through the air by themselves. One of them flew up to Rose’s face. There was no heat coming from it, and the wooden handle was free of any support.

Rose recoiled, and the torch flew past her, illuminating the slippery, slab of floor. Two pairs of hands grabbed Rose by the elbows, forced her to her feet and quickly dragged her along. Rosa made out figures in long robes, their heads hidden by masks with bird beaks.

A torch flew ahead and illuminated the gloomy corridors. From time to time he stopped and drew fire signs right in the air. Rose did not understand their meaning, but the figures in masks read the fiery letters in a whisper, and they immediately extinguished, leaving behind streaks of black smoke.

This hellish corridor will never end, the princess thought. “I will stay here underground and never see the sun again. I am a hostage, I am a victim of betrayal. Thoughts swarmed in her head. Assumptions, one more terrible than the other, hit the brain. The road into darkness had no end. I wanted to forget and fall asleep, but two gloomy guards dragged the captive forward, not allowing her to linger for a moment.

Rose was tired and weak, her eyelids were heavy and sticky, but it was impossible to sleep. Ahead, she saw massive, cast-iron doors covered with intricate ornamentation and bordered by an arc of glowing rot.

“What kind of place is it? What’s waiting for me outside the door?” Rose thought as she walked. Before she had time to cry out or whisper the saving word of prayer, steel hands pushed her into a spacious room that closed in a ring. It was a courtroom.

Wooden stands rose in rows one above the other. Above, under the very dome of the ceiling, there are several latticed windows. This means that Rose was no longer underground or in the rock, but in the very heart of the island of sorcerers.

In the middle of the courtroom was a low, iron stool. The figures who dragged her by force forced the princess on it, and they themselves stood behind her.

All around were people in long robes and cocked hats, motionless and speechless. Each of them seemed to be rooted in its place behind the wooden platform. Fierce eyes looked from pale, haggard faces. Spider fingers fiddled with yellowed parchment scrolls or simply tapped drum rolls on the table top.

Oil lamps filled the room with dim, orange light. The judge’s desk remained free, and the defendant was already sitting in her place. Rose looked around in horror.

Dozens of vile, embittered pairs of eyes stared at her. The size of the hall was overwhelming and oppressive. Here, the fragile figure of the princess in a golden dress seemed tiny. Disheveled hair covered her wounded shoulders. Suddenly a bright beam of light fell on her face. Rose perked up. There were shuffling steps behind her. She saw the crowned hunchback take the place of the judge on the platform. Its heavy, gnarled shadow covered Rose. An angry gaze rested on her face.

“Let’s start!” said the hunchback. His voice sounded like a thunderclap in the deathly silence.

At that moment, the cone-shaped window under the ceiling swung open and an eagle flew into it, flapping its wings. The window sash slammed shut. The bird sat down on an empty chair and screeched. Proudly folded behind the back, the wings no longer concealed the scarlet seam on the eagle’s chest. Rose recognized the trail from her own bullet and was dumbfounded. What was happening was like a nightmare. The bird’s wings began to grow and stretch. The beak was getting smaller. Feathers thickened, turning into black clothes. And now it was no longer an eagle, but another silent jury bore Rose with his angry eyes.

“Do you all recognize the convict?” The judge asked loudly, and many heads in black cocked hats nodded affirmatively.

“What can you say in your defense?” The hunchback’s menacing, accusing voice rang out again.

Rose involuntarily shuddered. A vibe of hatred and contempt emanated from everyone who judged her. They wanted to see someone else in the place of the accused, but at the whim of a mock-fate she found herself here.

The girl tried to mobilize all her courage.

“You are mistaken!” She said. Her own voice seemed weak and strange to her. “I’m not who you want.”

“Who are you?” The hunchback laughed deeply and disgustingly. “What are the names of your parents?”

“My father is King Christian, and my mother is Queen Odile,” Rose said. She wanted to add something else, but her tongue did not obey her.

Hearing her words, the hunchback jumped up from his bench, leaned over the podium and croaked:

“It’ a lie!

He flung down the judge’s gavel, rummaged through the papers heaped on the table, and pulled out a crumpled piece of paper with torn edges.

“You knew what fate awaited you,” he said, turning to Rose, “your lies will not soften the sentence.”

“Bring her closer!” ordered the judge.

The guards immediately grabbed Rose by the elbows and dragged her to the dais. The hunchback took out a quill from an inkwell and wrote a few more lines at the bottom of the torn sheet. Then he put it down and laid a long, heavy hand on Rosa’s shoulder.

The princess knew that now he was preparing to perform some ancient, witchcraft rite. She wanted to break free, but the guards held her tightly, not even allowing her to move.

“For a long time I have chosen punishment for you from the list of permissible, but none of them will pay off the sins you have committed,” the judge spoke again in a sparkling crown. “By agreement of our council, I have the right to resort to the hitherto forbidden punishment. The execution is canceled. Instead, I put the Swan Curse on you.”

Rose stared at him in disbelief. She didn’t understand anything. A triumphant guffaw echoed through the hall. Rose managed to turn around, but did not see a single juror. All the places were empty, only a screaming flock of gyrfalcons, hawks and other birds flew through the opened doors and disappeared into the pitch darkness.

“Let them fly away!” The hunchback grunted imperiously. “The ritual must be performed without unnecessary witnesses.”

He stared at his captive and began to whisper quietly some incomprehensible, meaningless words for a common man. The hypnosis emanated from him with a dark, strong thread and twisted around Rose. Rose looked into the burning eyes of the wizard, and it seemed to her that she was standing on the edge of a raging, fiery abyss. The princess was seized with a fever. Fainting approached her like a stranger wrapped in a dark cloak.

The hunchback drew a sharp, instructed dagger from his belt and cut one strand of hair from Rose’s head. A strand of black snake curled around the sharpened blade before the sorcerer lowered the dagger into a bowl filled with hissing, silvery liquid. Upon contact with the strand and metal, it immediately turned into a deep, black color.

Rosa watched the sorcerer’s actions in fascination. His words and gestures were incomprehensible to her. Here he covers the bowl with a piece of purple satin with bird heads embroidered on it. Then he pulls out a box filled with shimmering, silver pollen.

The girl made another desperate attempt to escape, but it was too late. The sorcerer poured the contents of the ominous box directly onto Rose’s head. Sugar dust covered her face. Thorny grains fell on the dress, tangled in her hair. Nausea rose in her throat. The eyes grew dim. A sharp pain shot through her left arm, as if someone had slashed a knife across the wrist.

At that moment, the guards released their prisoner. Loud laughter echoed through the gloomy void. Rose held out her hand. It was no longer a hand. The fingers extended into long swan feathers, the wrist extended to the size of a bird’s wing. Dizziness close to fainting did not allow horror to take over the mind during the transformation. The girl disappeared, instead of her a beautiful, black swan circled under the ceiling, trying to break free from the stuffy dungeon. The windows and doors were closed. The bird in vain rushed from corner to corner in search of a way out.

“And you will be a swan until the end of the century,” the end of the spell sounded gloating and solemn.

The hunchback removed all the ritual accessories. He reread the contract for the last time and hid it in a drawer. The swan, beating in despair against the glass of the high window, brought a smug smile to his face.

Meanwhile, sparkling feathers fell from the black wings. The swan slowly descended. The plumage disappeared, but the eye could not see the entire sequence of transformations.

The sorcerer stared doubtfully at the strange scene before him. Had he misread the spell? The condemned woman was supposed to become a bird forever, but a few minutes passed and she lost her swan appearance. On the floor, barely breathing, lay no longer a bird, but the old beauty in gold.

Rose propped herself up on her elbows. Her whole body ached after the transformation. The heart beat a frantic rhythm. The arms, which had been wings a moment ago, ached and bled. Overcoming the pain, the girl got to her feet. Bending under the weight of his hump, the sorcerer rushed towards her. Something flashed in his hand like a purple star. He didn’t say a word, but his gaze thundered with rage.

In the blink of an eye, he grabbed the victim’s wrist, preventing her from moving her hand and put a ring with a huge amethyst on her thin finger. Cold metal gripped the finger, almost burnt into the skin. Rose tried to remove the ring, but it seemed to adhere to her hand.

Meanwhile, the doors of the hall opened, releasing the head of the gloomy congregation and his servants, and slammed again. Wandering lights danced on the walls. Rose was left alone, among the empty benches and stands. Dark evil dwelt here. A quiet, barely audible whisper came from the silence.

“Let the dragon come for you!” someone whispered very close. Rose looked at her hand and realized in horror that the voice was coming from the glowing stone on the ring. All its facets shimmered, and in the dull violet depth a pale, tiny face flashed and disappeared.

The silence echoed with a hellish roar. It seemed to Rose that all the sunlight was concentrated behind a huge high window and eclipsed the night stars. But the sun couldn’t shine so brightly. It was not a fiery disk that lit up the skies, but a majestic, huge silhouette of a winged dragon, like magic, that appeared in the distance. The dragon was approaching. Fire burst from its mouth.

Rose couldn’t believe she was seeing him. Here he is, the heavenly ruler, the kidnapper of young virgins. From his roar the earth cracked and the heavenly heights tore apart. The rumble made Rosea bleed from her ears. The dragon’s fiery breath scorched the air. The walls were hot from the heat. It seemed to Rose that she was in hell.

Metal wings flapped continuously, and the girl thought that it was a hammer knocking on an anvil. An intolerable golden glow dazzled the eyes. A clawed paw scratched the glass on the window. But the dragon is too big for such a narrow opening. He can’t get in here. Rose began to faint. The ring squeezed her finger even tighter.

For a moment there was a saving silence, then a strong blow followed. The window and part of the wall shattered from his force. A waterfall of chips and stones gushed down. A powerful gust of wind tore at the girl’s hair. She lifted her head to meet the stern, flickering gaze of the dragon flying towards her.

Golden wings whistled through the air and caught the wind. These sounds were like a song.

Strong paws with long claws grabbed Rosa and easily, like a feather, tore her off the floor. A moment later, the dragon with its prey was already hovering high in the sky.

The island was left far behind, the Silver River from the height of the clouds seemed like a narrow, trembling thread, and the villages were scattered on the ground in cubes. Nothing could slow down the frantic flight in the sky. The dragon soared even higher, not releasing its prey from its claws.

Gusts of icy wind whipped Rose across the face. The earth was already out of sight. The cold light of the stars reflected in the dragon scales.

An arrow dropped from a bowstring does not fly as fast as this glittering monster. The dragon raced forward, flapping golden wings incessantly. The whistling wind enveloped them. Then he slowed down and began to descend, slowly and smoothly. Rose saw the land, like one airy snowball.

The dragon sank even lower, so that the sloping roofs of the village houses became visible. Residents poured out into the street and pointed their hands up. Some were shouting something, others rushed into the loose. Flakes of snow swirled in the icy air, blocking the look of fear on their faces.

The dragon sank very low and suddenly breathed fire. Rose covered her face with her free hand. The heat from the fire scorched her cheeks, but the flame itself did not touch her. But the roofs of the houses flared up like dry rods. Orange sparks spread to the fragile, thatched roofs of barns and dovecotes.

The peasants fled, but the flame overtook them like a living creature, hissed and grabbed at their clothes. The dragon turned sharply and erupted from his mouth another column of fire.

Rose was numb with fear. What will happen to her? Will the dragon throw her into this huge fire and fly away? But he did not even think about releasing his captive. Golden wings flapped gracefully and the dragon flew towards the forest, blackened in the distance. Rose gripped a polished, smooth claw larger than hers with a hand. She was afraid to fall and break, afraid to turn around and see the village engulfed in tongues of poisonous flame.

A round dance of patterned snowflakes circled outside the window. Hungry wolves howled in the thicket. The trees stood in a ghostly line. Their trunks were buried in the snow.

The small hut was warm and cozy. Smoke poured from the chimney. A fire crackled in the stove. The aroma of delicious food was in the air.

Rose woke up, and slowly her eyes began to get used to the semi-darkness. She lay on a round bunk, shaped like a deep-bottomed bowl. It looked like a fairy crib made from a nutshell. Rose warmed up and calmed down. There are only vague memories of the fear experienced.

Someone covered her with a soft blanket and put a pillow under her head. For a long time no one cared about her like that. The Queen would rather scold her than help her.

Rose tried to get a better look at the meager furnishings of the hut. She noticed the skin of a dead bear on the floor, a crudely hammered table and a couple of chairs.

A graceful, strong hand placed the lantern on the table. Rose closed her eyes against the blinding light. When she opened her eyes, she saw a beautiful, white face bending over her. For a moment she thought she was seeing an angel.

“Everything will be fine, dear girl,” came a quiet, male voice. “No one will offend you here.”

Rose could not take her eyes off the innocent, youthful face, from the cold, blue eyes. After all, the eyes are the mirror of the soul. And in those sad eyes, she noticed a strange reflection, a mystery hanging over them.

She wanted to ask the stranger who he was. She had seen him before in some kind of ghostly, terrible dream, and now he was there. A phosphoric glow seemed to emanate from his face. A pair of curls fell over his smooth forehead. Oh yes, those curls. They are so reminiscent of… Rose tried to shake off the unpleasant sensation, but could not. The obvious cannot be denied. This young man has hair exactly the same color as dragon scales. Even in the dark, they shine with pure gold.

“Am I sleeping?” Rose asked.

He shook his head silently. The wolf howl outside the window now resembled a lullaby. A faint, wavering light fell like a filamentous veil on the walls.

The golden-haired youth walked for a second to the stove, poked the ash with a poker, and then returned back to Rose. He thrust a pewter mug of steaming drink into her hands.

Rose took a sip. The hot liquid burned her throat, and a pleasant warmth spilled over her body. The aroma of roasted meat spread through the hut and made her feel hungry.

The snowstorm outside the window was getting worse. The wind howled monotonously. Singing, inhuman voices sounded in time with him in the trumpets.

“Winter!” Rose whispered. “Winter has already come!”

Only now she woke up from dreams and began to really look at the world. But what was the use of looking for reality in a world that in an instant acquired a fabulous gloss. In this transformed universe, anything could happen.

“What month is it now?” The princess asked.

“January,” came the reply.

“How long did I stay in the courtroom?”

“For the uninitiated, the days there fly like minutes. Sorcerers prefer violent entertainment. A child who has been imprisoned for six months is released as an old man. For a number of reasons, the entrance to the island is closed to ordinary people. In addition, very often sorcerers themselves cannot keep track of the passage of time in their possessions. They are lucky because they are immortal.”

The young man looked straight at Rose and smiled his cold, charming smile. Judging by his clothes, he was a nobleman. The blue camisole embroidered with gray pearls further emphasized the whiteness of the skin. And a sword with a silver hilt fastened to a sling indicated an aristocratic origin. According to the law, only titled persons and their eldest sons had the right to carry such weapons. Rose studied the chiseled profile of the young man for a long time before she decided to ask:

“Who are you?”

“Don’t you remember me?” He wondered. “Oh yes! I completely forgot. I’m branded now.”

He stressed the last word. The voice now rang with heartache. The right hand clenched into a fist in impotent rage and fell against the wall. From such a blow, the plaster crumbled, leaving a dent in the wall.

“I don’t remember anything other than a frantic flight in the sky and a flaming village,” Rose almost shouted.

With the sounds of her melodious voice, the old calmness returned to the young man. Only a rebellious fire lurked in his eyes.

“I didn’t want to submit to fate,” he said apologetically. “Everyone has their own fate in life. My mentors decided everything for me.”

“What are you talking about?” Rose interrupted him. “You also fell victim to the dragon?”

“Dragon?” he looked at her with such amazement, as if he had heard the name for the first time. For a moment, Rose thought that a black winged shadow flashed through his clear blue eyes.

A frightening silence hung in the room. Without support, the fire in the furnace went out. The coals were smoldering. One could hear the winter wind moaning and raging in the chimney.

“I am afraid,” Rose said under her breath.

The mysterious friend immediately hurried to her, took the empty mug and covered the princess with a blanket better.

“You need to eat and sleep,” he said, “and tomorrow we’ll decide what to do next.”

“Do you know what happened to me?” Rose ventured to ask.

He nodded in the affirmative.

“Do you also know the hunchback in the crown?” she immediately asked the second question.

“This is the leader of all who live on the island. When the darkest of the court sorcerers were driven out for their cruelty, he gathered them all under his banner. The hunchback rescued even the most dangerous sorcerers, sentenced to a fierce execution, so that they would serve him. He wanted to acquire such power and greatness that no master of shadows had. The closed island, shrouded in darkness, has become the refuge of all magicians who are ready to worship shadow and evil.”

Rose noticed that the narrator clearly knew more than he said aloud. If only she could read his thoughts, unlock the heavy locks and remove the fetters from the secret that enveloped this golden-haired head.

The food was surprisingly tasty. After the meal, Rose was drawn to sleep again. While she fell asleep, a gentle multi-string voice still sounded in the darkness, enveloping her in enchantment. She wanted to raise her leaden-filled eyelids and once again take a look at the stately aristocrat, who, like a statue, sat by the cooled stove and looked at the black ash as if it was reviving in his memory a long-gone pain and thirst for revenge.

The night is over. A cold dawn broke. Rose woke up and looked around the empty hut. The mysterious aristocrat is already gone. Without it, the meager interior seemed even more squalid. Only something sparkled on the table. The girl jumped up from the bunk and ran to the table. There was a wallet full of coins, and a short note that she could take the money for herself.

So the golden-haired youth was not just a dream or a spirit. This is evidenced by a piece of paper covered with even beaded handwriting and a purse with money.

She can’t go back to Mara. And in her native kingdom, the war has already begun. Rose did not know where to go. Plus, she was afraid of the dragon’s wrath. What if he goes after her? She didn’t even know who snatched her from his claws. Or maybe the dragon himself left her to die in the winter forest, and the young nobleman found her and brought her to the hut.

There was something strange and mystical about this beautiful young man. Since he knew all the ins and outs of sorcerers, it means that he himself knew how to conjure. If you believe the legends, then some mortals are related to elves, fairies or even dragons. After all, he could be one of them and scare the monster with his charms or use family ties.

The small hut was most likely intended for a gamekeeper. But whose forests are these? Where to find a guide who will lead her out of the thicket. As soon as Rose thought about it, the glass in the window snapped. Someone’s jaws snapped. Is there a wolf wandering around the hut? However, instead of a wolf’s face, a luminous face with two amethyst eyes peeped into the low window. Rose immediately recognized her familiar snake. He found her again.

The door opened by itself, as if someone had opened it from the outside. The snake’s tail, shimmering with all the colors of the rainbow, slid over the threshold, lifted itself off the floor and waved gracefully, as if beckoning.

The princess wanted to take a blanket with her, but honesty did not allow this. It’s enough that the stranger left her a purse full of gold. You also can’t stay in someone else’s hut for the whole winter. Rose mentally said goodbye to her mysterious companion and ran out into the frosty morning.

The snow sparkled so brightly and dazzlingly that it hurt the eyes. The icy air burned her nostrils and throat. Between the trees, covered with frost, lay a flat path, as if someone had specially cleared it after a snowstorm.

A light ball gown, unfortunately, did not save her from the cold. Frost chilled to the bone. Rosa was already thinking about whether to return to the hut, when she suddenly saw that the same winged handsome man was hovering between the trees right in the air. The serpent coiled in rings so that it resembled a gilded chain on an invisible gate. Its wings flapped quickly and often, so that the whole serpentine body gently swayed over the snowdrifts.

Then the serpent changed its position, straightened like a string and disappeared around the bend in the road. Rose ran after him, hoping that he would lead her out of the forest. She quickly ran after the flying kite, but could not catch up with him. Fluttering wings and a flying ribbon tail showed her the way. But there was a respectful distance between her and the guide.

Apart from them, there was not a soul in the forest. Even the wolves are hiding somewhere. If the fair-haired aristocrat left along this road, then the snow had already covered the tracks.

Rose began to lag behind her fellow traveler. She tried to run faster, so as not to lose sight of at least the golden glow, rapidly flying forward. Snow crunched, brocade skirts painfully whipped the princess on the legs, but she did not stop for a moment.

Soon a gap appeared between the trees. The kite slowed down a little and slowly flew into the snowy clearing. A two-story tavern with a colorful sign towered proudly over a small pond covered with ice. Rose rushed forward across the clearing. Halfway through, she stopped and turned around to thank her guide, but that was already gone.

It got colder and colder. Lightly powdered snow. Rose wrapped her arms around her shoulders to keep warm. Her outfit was in a deplorable state. The puffs on the sleeves are crumpled, and snowflakes are stuck in her hair.

Rose knocked on the tavern door. She was afraid that in this form she would not be allowed to spend the night. However, the hostess immediately recognized the girl as a noble lady and was gladly ready to fulfill any of her orders.

As soon as Rose expressed a desire to buy warm clothes, the hostess recalled that there were things in the upper room that she would be ready to sell. There were, however, several chests with cheap clothes. Rosa bought trousers, boots and a lined camisole that looks more like a jacket. She tied her own dress in a knot. It was not possible to remove the ring from her hand. It froze to the skin so that Rose could no longer feel it. But the stone on it faded and faded.

Rose looked out the upper room window. A blizzard began. Snow, like a white shroud, covered the entire visible space.

Fate is insidious and whimsical. Until recently, life was easy and calm. And now the existence of the Rose has been clouded by three mysteries. A flying serpent, a powerful golden dragon and a mysterious youth with an angelic face. She didn’t even want to remember the incident in the courtroom. The words “Curse of the Swan” sounded like a terrible hum in her head. Rose shivered chilly. She breathed at the window and with a trembling finger drew the outline of a swan feather on the misted glass. This symbol reminded of how difficult it is to be a defenseless bird in a flock of hunters – sorcerers.

Loud, booming voices sounded below. Apparently, new guests have come to the tavern. Rose came out of the room and began to descend the side stairs, trying to keep in the shadows all the time. Precaution today was not superfluous.

Some of the newcomers had already started to play a marching song, others were quarreling with the hostess, others drank in silence. Rose leaned over the railing and saw a dozen soldiers camped behind an oak table in the corner. All were armed to the teeth.

The eldest, apparently the head of the detachment, struck the table with a gauntlet and demanded to bring a barrel of the strongest wine. The hostess immediately hurried to the cellar, and Rose went down a few steps. Maybe she can slip out the door unnoticed. Rose did not want to get involved with drunken warriors. Two of them were already pestering the young maid.

Suddenly one of the soldiers looked up from the beer mug and noticed Rosa. His eyes narrowed angrily as his hand reached out to the hilt of the sword. Only now the girl examined the coat of arms of the enemy kingdom on his cuirass.

“Look! It’s a princess!” He shouted. “She must be captured alive!”

His comrades-in-arms immediately understood what was the matter and also grabbed their swords. Now every second mattered. Rose almost knocked down the hostess who arrived in time and jumped out the door. This time, the princess was lucky. The enemies left their horses unattended. Rose untied the first horse she came across and jumped into the saddle. She was an excellent rider and could get away from any pursuit.

In peacetime, stealing a horse was punishable by death, but during the war, everything was allowed.

“Catch the princess!” shouted all the same soldier, but when his comrades climbed on their horses, Rose was already rushing through the forest at a fast gallop.

The blizzard intensified. Snow and wind lashed her face. Rose fell to the bow. Her hair flew like a black banner behind her. How quickly the enemies identified her. The compassionate neighbors must have appointed a reward for the capture of the enemy princess.

Behind her there was the sound of hooves, voices and threats in unison. Rose spurred her horse to break away from the chase. Because of the raging blizzard, it became difficult to drive, but Rosa did not stop until a fork in three roads appeared ahead.

Something strange was happening beyond the line lined with small stones. On the two roads going left and right, a blizzard was spinning, and on the middle road everything was calm. Spruces and pines stood at its edges, like fabulous giants guarding temporary peace. Even the snow did not dare to cross the invisible border.

Rose didn’t have time to think. She turned onto the calm middle road. Traveling along it will be much easier than fighting a storm. But instead of obeying, the previously pliable horse whinnied in fright and reared up, almost throwing the rider off his back.

However, Rose held the reins and forced the animal to move forward. The snowfall is left behind. Finding himself on the forbidden path for a blizzard, the horse rushed forward. She rushed without stopping, without any prodding. However, the pursuers did not lag behind either.

Above the treetops lay a clear azure sky. Snow glittered here and there. There were no wolves or other predators to be seen around, and nevertheless the horse began to snore in fright and began to resist.

Rose plunged her spurs into the horse’s flanks and made it gallop across the frozen lake. Sparks fell from under the hooves, but the ice did not crack. The brave rider looked back. She was able to buy time. The enemies are a little behind. She jumped off the horse, secured her bag better to the saddle, and checked to see if there were any weapons in the saddle bag.

Maybe under the weight of a whole detachment, the ice on the lake will break. No bellicose cries were heard yet. Only someone’s rapid breathing broke the silence of the forest. A ringing, almost musical whistle resounded over the treetops.

Rose stumbled and fell, black hair covered the snow with silk. The ring on her hand shone dazzlingly, and a terrible, huge figure hovered in the sky among the winter azure, as if it were all molded from gold. It sparkled dazzlingly, although the sun was not in the sky. The golden dragon, its wings, claws, head were all golden, but the eyes resembled a terrible secret, as in fairy tales about the castle of elves. Rose shuddered inwardly, he found her again, like death the color of precious metal. A terrible scream broke the frosty silence, and everything was quiet. The deadly pursuit from the warring world of the two kingdoms also fell behind.

And suddenly a silvery, rich sleigh stopped next to her, strangely, she did not even hear how they drove up, although the snow crunched. The aura of nightmare emanated from the sleigh, although they were anywhere, the royal ones would not be compared with them. Thoroughbred white horses in a harness beat impatiently with their hooves. Their luxurious manes and tails were shiny, their eyes sparkled wildly, and flames seemed about to burst from their nostrils. The bridles jingled, and the ringing of bells echoed them. Rose froze in horror and saw that the same young man was sitting in the sleigh. His golden curls scattered over a velvet cloak, his face was striking in beauty.

“Let’s go, Rose,” he invited, they won’t catch up with you.

He bent down and held out his hand to her. The skin on the back of the hand was a phosphoric whiteness, but there was a striking defect – a thin gold plate implanted into the arm where the vein should be.

Rose was numb with surprise, but the radiant, hypnotic gaze made her obey. She climbed into the sleigh and settled down on the satin seat. The driver whipped the horses. They snored viciously and trotted forward.

The young man signaled to Rose’s steed. He, as if spellbound, bowed his head, as if he were a man and obediently trotted after the sleigh.

There was a crackling of ice and muffled curses from behind. Rose looked around. There, among the sharp ice floes in the water, her pursuers splashed. They managed to reach the middle of the lake before the thick crust cracked. They could not get out of the lake. Uselessly they clung to the ice floes, their hands sliding along the smooth surface, and heavy armor pulled to the bottom.

The sled rushed forward, leaving deep furrows behind and billowing waves of snow splashing in its path. The chime of small bells accompanied them all the way.

Rose turned to her savior.

“What’s your name?” Plucking up courage, she asked.

He looked at her with a strange gleam in his eyes, as if deciding whether to tell her his name or not.

“Edwin,” he finally answered. Maybe it was his soft, calm voice that had such an effect on her that the name seemed familiar to the princess.

The further they went into the forest, the more beautiful the dense thickets on the sides of the road became. Rose looked at the snow-capped fir trees, at the squirrels jumping from branch to branch. She did not succeed in seeing the driver, occasionally waving his whip. All that was visible was his coat, sewn from fox tails.

“Why did you save me?” Rose asked after a long silence.

Edwin carefully draped a fur-lined cloak over her shoulders.

“Why?” He echoed. “How could I leave you in trouble?”

“How did you know that I was in trouble?”

This time he said nothing. However, the cheerful ringing of bells did not stop, the frisky horses continued to neigh. The small bird livened up the frosty forest with their singing. Bullfinches pecked at rare rowan berries. One bright red cross pecked at a pine cone.

“Where are we going?” Rose tried to start a conversation again.

“To the castle,” the companion answered shortly.

“You mean there is a castle in this wilderness?”

Edwin looked at her with surprised, twinkling eyes.

“There should be a castle,” he explained in the same laconic way. “What kind of state is it without a castle?”

“What other state?” Rose asked in a whisper. The unknown frightened her the most.

The attendant lowered his head sadly.

“You want to know too much,” he chided.

“No more than I’m allowed to,” Rose immediately retorted. “Everyone has the right to face their fears. After I was not even allowed to make excuses, it is not surprising that I am afraid of making a mistake. You are not the Golden Sovereign to chastise me.”

He was not even offended. On the contrary, mischievous sparks flashed in his eyes.

“You don’t have to be a flying monster to crush people’s hopes,” he said with secular nonchalance. And yet there was something in his words that it made her blood run cold. Some kind of invisible magic enveloped Edwin. In his manner and strange modulation of his voice, inhuman power was guessed. One gesture was enough for the distrustful, fearful tit, as if bewitched, to fly off the branch and sit in his palm. He stroked the yellowish head, and the bird chirped happily.

Now his hand is normal again. As if there was no plate inserted into the flesh. Rose studied Edwin for a long time. Even in the light of day, he looked like an unearthly creature. He sat next to her, real, alive, and at the same time remained distant and unattainable, like a radiant image of a saint in the corner of a darkened picture.

“We’ll be here soon,” he said, letting go of the titmouse. It chirped goodbye and soared into the air. Edwin followed her flight.

“How do you do it?” Rose could not resist.

“What?”

“To command animals and birds.”

He just shrugged his shoulders, making it clear that he himself could not explain it.

“Who are you?” The princess gasped. The amazement and fright that sounded in her voice. gave this question an almost mystical meaning.

“You want to know not only about this,” Edwin warned the next questions, “you are interested in who really is a humpbacked sorcerer? Where did the dark power come from over the vaults of the chateau? Why were you tried for other people’s crimes, and how did you manage to escape punishment? And, after all, you want to know who the Wind Singer is.”

“Wind Singer?” Rose asked in surprise.

“He is also called the Golden Lord. The dragon has always been revered and feared. He keeps humanity at bay, and the fairy people submit to him. This zwergs called the whistle of flight a song. When the dragon’s wings cut through the air masses, then it really can be called the Wind Singer.

The forest in the white lace of snow was left behind. The sled was rushing along the narrow road. Rose did not notice how dark it was. A minute ago it was day, and now the horn of the month was silvery in the black sky. The snowdrifts rose like a single wall over the edges of the road. Now one, now another snowflake flashed with a bright fire, like precious stones.

The charioteer whipped the horses mercilessly, and they rushed forward with an arrow, in spite of their fatigue.

“Look!” Edwin ordered, pointing forward.

Rose looked up and saw the valley. Whirlwinds blew over her. The carpet of fluffy snow glittered as if a myriad of small diamonds had been mixed with it. And in the very center of the snow-covered valley stood a gloomy and majestic castle. Even from here one could see impregnable bastions, semicircles of observation openings, towers resembling chess rooks.

The horses ran even faster. The fortress, which adorned the snow with a dark crown, attracted them like a magnet. Rosa herself gazed with admiration at the outer wall, which encircled the entire grandiose structure with a stone ribbon. The loopholes of the powerful barbican gaped empty. The lowering grates lifted by themselves, allowing the sled to rush through the gate and, letting it pass, immediately returned to its former position.

Torches blazed brightly in the castle courtyard. An unusual palisade is located near the walls. Rose shuddered, noticing that each stake was crowned with a severed, human head, or what was left of it.

The horses beat furiously with their hooves. Rose jumped out of the sleigh and wanted to stroke the nape of the most beautiful snow-white horse.

“Caution!” Edwin warned. He was already standing behind, stepping up silently like a shadow. “They are not horses at all and, besides, they are very ferocious.”

The horses calmed down a little, sensing the approach of their master. It seems that apart from him and the driver, they no longer obeyed anyone. Even after a long journey, these extraordinary animals still had so much strength that they could smash the whole city over the stones. How wildly and ominously their eyes sparkled in the bloody glow of smoking torches. How they longed to break the bridles and trample under their hooves anyone who met them on their way. But they were afraid of Edwin. What could scare them so much in this handsome, seemingly fragile youth. Is that his equanimity, the complete absence of human feelings in the huge blue eyes and the proud bearing of the prince.

The most cocky of the horses grinned viciously at Rosa. Then he turned a plaintive, obsequious glance to his master, as if wishing to warn about something. More consciously than hearing Rose caught three words, alternating with horse snoring.

“She’s your enemy!”

“Take them to the stable,” Edwin ordered to the driver.

Rose went up to her horse, which was rubbing fearfully behind the sled, and untied the knot with its meager belongings from the saddle.

“Let’s go to!” Edwin took her hand and pulled her toward the tall, cast-iron doors covered with intricate ornamentation. The door ring was attached to the copper head of a lion, with its mouth wide open and empty eye sockets.

The doors opened smoothly, without the slightest creak. Behind them lay a gloomy hall. But as soon as Edwin stepped through the threshold, all the candles in the numerous candelabra flashed as one. The magical world of ghostly mirrors, purple carpets and silent sculptures appeared before Rose. The marble goddesses stood in the shadows. Tall stained-glass windows shimmered with all the colors of the rainbow. Pictures and portraits hung on the walls in heavy, patterned frames. A wide front staircase led upstairs.

It was not only wealth and luxury that amazed. Simply, everything here seemed to be alive. Emerald bats hid behind paintings. The sculptures sometimes changed positions and curtsies. Magic was dormant in every corner. All the shining magic of this castle was subject to only one person – its mysterious, golden-haired master.

The chimes announced the approach of midnight. At the last blow, Edwin perked up. He scanned the lobby and the closed doors with an anxious gaze, as if expecting an intruder.

“My time is running out,” he whispered under his breath. “In a few minutes I must leave, otherwise the irreparable will happen. If you only knew what ties I have with the rooms of this castle and the empire that stretches beyond it.”

There is nothing but dense forests, Rose wanted to say, but for some reason she kept silent. She ran up the stairs after Edwin. They walked through galleries and covered passages, past columns and knightly armor whitening in the dark.

Edwin opened the door of a room, lit all the candles in it with a wave of his hand, and turned to look at Rose.

“Stay here tonight,” he suggested. “I’ll be back soon and try to explain everything. You are safe in my castle, but outside of it, death awaits you. If you leave now, then the winged enemy will find you, wherever you hide. You attract him like a magnet.”

Edwin’s quiet, threatening words frightened, and his figure, frozen in the span of the door, looked ghostly and unnatural. He silently moved from his place and walked towards the end of the corridor. Halfway through, he turned around, theatrically waved his black cloak and said goodbye:

“Tomorrow you will find out everything,” there was a note of pain and subtle disappointment in his voice.

Rose was left alone in an unfamiliar, richly furnished room. How tasteless and worthless the decoration of the royal palaces seemed to her now, in comparison with the gloomy luxury of her new chambers.

Beautiful ball gowns lay on the bed. Rose chose one of them and tried it on. It fit her, as if it had been made to order for her.

She sat on the edge of the bed and waited for the owner of the castle to return. She was afraid that the dream that overcame her in these fabulous palaces would never end. The candle flame was so quiet and steady. As soon as Rose looked at these lights, there was no trace of her determination to stay awake all night. The princess’s eyelids became heavy and sticky. She soon fell asleep.

Edwin went down to an underground laboratory littered with ancient manuscripts. They all need to be deciphered. And then what? Who will win the final victory? So many years have passed in search of the right spell. These years were filled with impotent rage and a desire to free themselves. And now a distant gap appeared, and the almost extinct guiding star began to shine. Now the thirst for revenge has cooled a little, but has not disappeared.

For today, he has already fulfilled his duties, but before sitting down to his usual work, it is necessary to check how the wonderful guest got there. Edwin arranged the new papers on the shelves, checked the old ones in place, and left the laboratory. The lock on the strong, oak door had long been rusty, but it was not needed. Edwin ran the key crosswise across the smooth surface of the door, now no one can open this door even with a crowbar.

A narrow, spiral staircase with sharp turns led to a secret passage to the room where Edwin had left the beauty. It is unlikely that the guest expects that he will enter her not through the door, but by pushing the wall mirror. She is, after all, the daughter of a man and does not yet know that in a real castle every third painting and statue must contain a special secret.

He pushed back the mirror frame and slipped into the room. He learned to move so easily and silently that only his hair, sparkling like the rays of the winter sun, distinguished him from the shadow.

The beauty slept peacefully. Edwin moved closer to the bed to get a better look at it. Here is the one pursued by evil fate. What fate awaits her in the dragon’s deadly embrace? Is she guilty of being born the daughter of a king and a witch.

For a long time Edwin did not take his intent, studying gaze from her. His cold heart was touched for the first time. For so long a man’s foot has not stepped into this castle. And now a princess has appeared in the enchanted world. She curled up into a graceful ball among the clothes scattered on the bed. The skirts of the puffy dress surrounded her with a scarlet halo. The drooping eyelashes touched her cheeks, but there was something wrong with the hair. Edwin lightly touched the dark-haired head with his hand and found confirmation of his guess. One strand was missing.

And the girl continued to sleep so serenely. She looked like a beautiful china doll. Edwin even got scared when he imagined how she would become one of the statues in his collection.

“What should I do now?” He shook his head in sorrow. The question drowned in silence, without even disturbing the princess’s sleep.

Edwin went to the window, clasped his hands behind his back, as if he were still a prisoner, and looked longingly at the sickle of the month.

“Evil genius,” he whispered, “since you brought me out of my dungeon, I have disobeyed you for the first time.

Memories inspired melancholy. Edwin hoped that the girl would sleep until morning. And in the morning it will be easier to come to terms with the facts than during a dull nauseating night. Business awaits him now. He must practice magic long before the decisive battle. There is little time left, and the challenge to the enemy has already been thrown.

When the lord of the castle left the room, a stubborn black-haired head rose from the pillow. Rose squinted at the flame of candles and could not understand if someone came here or if she was just dreaming about it. What happened was more like a dream, because in reality the mirrors do not move from the walls by themselves, opening a loophole for wizards.

Rose sat up in bed and examined the luxurious furnishings. So, then, she got into the wizard’s castle. She could not name her new friend otherwise. His power over living things and inanimate objects like statues and candles seemed unlimited. Now she need to find out what he started and for what purpose he allowed her to enter his dwelling.

Rose quietly got up and left the room. The castle was huge. Will she be able to inspect all its chambers for the rest of the night.

Long corridors branched out like labyrinths. Rose chose her path at random. She tried to open one of the many doors, but it was locked. The princess tugged at the carved handles in vain; not a single door gave way.

Rose abandoned her vain attempts and ran down the narrow corridor. Her steps were light and silent. She herself was surprised at the speed with which she rushes past the walls decorated with tapestries and various door niches. It seemed to her that now swan wings would grow again and help her soar up. Dreams were interrupted by a sharp sound. An open door creaked in a low stone niche. She swayed on hinges, as if from a strong wind.

Rose hurried there. She had to bend in three deaths to squeeze through the low doorway. An unsightly door led into a tiny living room. There are several armchairs, a sofa and a table. There was only one picture on the wall.

A small chandelier dangled from the ceiling and dropped cones of light onto a brightly painted canvas. The artist depicted an autumn forest in the picture. Contrary to all the rules, from a distance, the painting looked tasteless, and close up the landscape was transformed. The freshness of early autumn emanated from it.

Every detail of the landscape looked alive: a crimson maple, an orange oak, fallen leaves on the water of a muddy stream. And the imagination painted the endless forest. Rose smelled wood, mushrooms and oak bark. As soon as you touch the canvas with your hand, it will be transferred to the picture, turning into a tiny drawing.

With a huge effort of will, Rose managed to look away from the canvas. In order not to succumb to the magnetic influence of the landscape again, she began to study the oak panel to which the painting was attached. The girl’s fingers slid over the carved patterns. The panel was scratched in places. Rosa ran the tips of her nails over the scratches, as if she was involuntarily looking for some kind of cipher, the solution of which would open a cache.

One deep scratch on the surface of the panel was shaped like a swan feather. Rose pressed down on her, and the panel creaked out, revealing a bottomless black hole. Bursting out of the dark void, the wind hurled dry, yellow leaves in her face. The peaceful murmur of the river reached the ears. A second later, the outlines of trees began to appear in the darkness. Rose stepped forward and felt solid ground under her feet. As soon as she crossed the permissible border, a terrible creak of a sliding panel was heard from behind. Rose turned sharply, but, to her surprise, did not find the previous wall. There was a forest behind the princess. Fallen leaves rustled underfoot.

At first it seemed to Rose that she was transported through a hidden hole into another dimension. After all, the leaves on the nearby birches were made of copper, and the air saturated with river moisture caused dizziness. Although it was unlikely that a secret passage could lead to another world, there must have been a magic line behind the wall, through which one could overcome many miles.

Rose moved away from the birches with clinking copper leaves and wandered towards the river. A arch bridge led to the other side. Moonlight blazed a glittering path across the inky waters of the river.

The night cavalcade rushed past the opposite bank with a noise. A nondescript-looking carriage stopped next to the bridge.

Rose did not expect to hear the familiar whistle in the sky, but the song of the dragon’s wings reached her at the most unexpected moment. Rose shuddered all over. After all, Edwin warned that outside the castle walls she would be left without protection. She should have obeyed his advice, not rushed to find trouble.

The shadow covered the moon. As soon as she saw a luminous spot in the dark sky, Rosa rushed away. She managed to reach the bridge before she heard the wild, frantic roar of the Golden Lord.

It was necessary to cross to the other side of the river as soon as possible. Rose’s footsteps echoed from the stones of the bridge. Flaming torches cast light on the princess’s marble-white shoulders. The scarlet dress made her an excellent target for the dragon.

Rose bent over the parapet, but the cold and darkness of the water forced her to give up the idea of throwing herself into the river abyss. All the same, the beast will guess that she is hiding under the bridge. At that moment, a winged shadow fell on the stone bridge. Flames of torches hissed and fluttered from a gust of wind.

By the way, the carriage door opened, and a lanky man in a long cape and a wide-brimmed hat, casting shadows on his face, came out.

“Help!” Rose screamed, hoping he would hear her. And he noticed her. Their gazes met and sank into each other. What Rose saw in his eyes. Only grief and darkness. Still, this accidental traveler was her last hope of salvation.

Rose rushed to him across the bridge. Lush skirts prevented her from running, and the ring on her hand lit up with such a bright light that it could compete with the eyes of the dragon. Amethyst always shone when the winged pursuer approached.

The girl could already feel the burning breath on her back. When she reached the middle of the bridge, she stumbled over a stone and fell on her back. Blood oozed from the injured leg. Rose raised herself in her arms and wanted to get up, but sharp claws wrapped around her waist.

Rose grabbed the parapet and the stones protruding from the masonry. For a moment, the dragon’s grip loosened. The golden wing landed on the bridge. The intolerable shine of the scales hurt her eyes. The dragon’s paw stepped cautiously onto the bridge, blinding with its golden sheen. Claws screeched across the cobblestones, leaving deep scratches.

Rose screamed and covered her face with her hands, fearing that the dragon would hurt her. And when, plucking up courage, she opened her eyes, she was numb with surprise. Next to her stood a silent youth in a black cloak.

“Edwin!” Rose whispered and was surprised herself as her tongue turned to call this arrogant, unfamiliar person Edwin. He had the same dazzling curls, the same azure-blue eyes, glaring fiercely and haughtily. What unknown force could so harden his pale face.

“This is a dream,” thought Rose, and at that very moment Edwin disappeared, a golden dragon towered in his place. He let out a heartbreaking cry, grabbed the princess and rushed up with her.

Rose has no strength left to resist. She watched the river and the bridge and the belated carriage disappear from view. The dragon picked up speed. In his claws, he clutched the prey, which almost escaped him.