Читать книгу Rhianon-2. Princess of Fire and the Winged Warrior - Natalie Yacobson - Страница 3

The carriage did not shake at all on the desert road, and the wheels did not rattle. Orpheus turned out to be a skilled coachman as well. Rhianon already thought that all he knew how to do was steal. Though the carriage he most likely stole from the master of the house, it is unlikely he would dare touch the carriages of any of his supernatural brethren. After all, the dead lord didn’t care that he was left without a carriage, and the extraordinary and overly exuberant horses in fairy cabriolets could have carried on, after all. She had to hand it to Orpheus for his ingenuity. He had chosen ordinary and unsightly, but obedient horses. Now he could steer them easily. And Rhianon could fall asleep. Inside the carriage it was dark and comfortable. Only occasional glimmers of light penetrated the window. Only it was impossible to determine their source. Where in the wilderness, where there was nothing but heath and forest thickets, could lights come from? She was beginning to fall asleep when someone gently touched her shoulder.

«Is this right? Are we going east?»

A familiar voice sounded right above her ear and brought her to her senses. Rhianon stared at Orpheus in amazement. He was here, beside her, then who was sitting on the horses. The carriage had not stopped; the horses were galloping forward, which meant that someone was directing them.

«They obey me anyway,» Orpheus said, understanding what she was thinking, «they don’t need me to hold the reins.»

«And you’re sure they won’t have to at the turn, too?» She feared a catastrophe that would naturally have no effect on the disembodied spirit, but would have a very tangible effect on her.

«Surely,» Orpheus snapped his fingers as if to prove it, and the carriage horses took a sharp turn, dragging the carriage after them.

«Wait, we must keep to one direction,» she was not surprised by his skill and was already worried about the course.

«That is to the east,» Orpheus finished for her. «Or where is your star pointing now? Don’t you want to take it out and check?»

Rhianon frowned. After the way the fairies had so deftly transformed her outfit, she was no longer sure she would find the star at all. The pendant would have been in her pocket. But the pocket itself was now gone. She felt only the folds of her ball gown.

«Look in its folds,» her spirit suggested.

Rhiannon slid her fingers through the fabric. A star seemed to slip from her sleeve.

«It is a focus,» Orpheus perked his ears happily. «How I love these little tricks. Not magic, and a little more inventive than pulling a rabbit out of a hat.»

«Shut up,» Rhianon interrupted him, not quite politely. «You are disturbing my thinking.»

«As you say, ma’am,» he bowed playfully, and surprisingly, even in the narrow space of the carriage, he did not bump into anything.

Rhianon regarded the star. One of its tips still remained elongated. It was pointing the same way.

«Straight ahead,» she concluded.

«And let’s hope the road at least leads somewhere,» he whistled expressively.

«Don’t be ironic,» she glanced at him thoughtfully. «It’s better than hanging around with other people’s company again, isn’t it? In the end it’s better than hanging around another man’s company again, don’t you think?»

She was well aware of his weaknesses. Orpheus immediately fell silent.

«But isn’t there another stranger’s company you’re going to seek out at the School of Witchcraft?» He asked after a pause. «Why do you need other people if you have me?»

«What do you have to do with me?» She burst into anger. «I’m interested in the place. What is it like? What do they teach there? Is it really a path only for the chosen ones?»

«Yes, but it is not for people like you.»

«Are you saying I’m worse than them?»

«No, you’re chosen too, but not like them. You’re better than them.»

«Oh, come on. I just get burned if I’m touched by people I don’t like.

«What if I do?» He arched his eyebrows defiantly. «Why else would I love you so much?»

«Because no one else was stupid enough to put up with a companion as chatty as you,» she wasn’t even surprised that he was suddenly confessing his love, she took it for granted that, after all, he was never serious, which meant he shouldn’t be taken too seriously. «Besides, you had nothing to do in those caves, so you picked on me. It’s boring to be stuck in the same place for centuries without anyone to talk to.»

«Yes, of course,» he wasn’t trying to lie, «but if you weren’t special, I couldn’t relate to you like that. There’s something inside you. It fascinates us all. I mean all magical people.»

«It is the flame,» she prompted him. It was the only thing inside her.

«I don’t know,» he looked at her seriously for the first time.

Rhianon looked away. She tried to comprehend what had just happened to her.

They’d tried to keep her in someone else’s house for a masquerade party, and she’d ignited everything there. And who was there? Masks, just masks, and she thought they were real demons. They flew out of the fire to talk her into staying with them. She wanted to forget it. Rhianon began to watch the glitter of the gold star in her palm. It calmed her. Even though she had seen this very pendant around the condemned man’s neck, it did not make her fearful. The gold warmed her hand pleasantly, and sometimes it was cold. The pendant seemed to have a way of cooling or warming itself, regardless of the ambient temperature or someone else’s touch.

She held the chain in her weight and watched the star rotate quietly. Strangely, no matter where she turned, the elongated end remained pointing in the same direction.

«So we’re going in the right direction,» she concluded to herself, but Orpheus immediately responded to her statement.

«You’re drawn to that place, where snobs gather, or a threatening emptiness reigns. It’s bad there, believe me. They try to tame the magic there. They want to keep your talent within limits, and there are no limits.»

Rhiannon looked at him with interest. «Were any of them at the masquerade?»

«There were only students, not teachers.»

«But there can’t be any teachers, because magic is an element that can only be controlled by a higher power. I’ve heard that teachers always remain invisible, because they are not living beings – they themselves are a force from the darkness that, without calling themselves, teaches evil to others.»

«You’re being a bit dramatic, but in many ways it’s true. The only pity is that unnamed forces sometimes retreat into the shadows for fun, and charlatans begin to claim their places.»

«If that’s the case, I’ll know right away and won’t be there long. I can tell when someone is trying to trick me.»

«Rhianon,» he called her by her name for the first time, and his voice sounded pitiful. «You wouldn’t leave me at the gate, would you?»

She felt pity for him for a moment. Orpheus’ handsome face expressed such longing. The freckles that had recently scattered across his cheeks were now almost invisible on his white skin. Somehow it seemed to her that if he were human he would be red to the roots of his hair now. He clearly felt out of place because he was forced to ask for something. Perhaps he even needed sympathy. Rhianon didn’t even think about the fact that he was hardly pleased to be stomping under the windows of the manor while she herself was inside. But she decided that tenderness would not do him any good. Orpheus had to be handled more strictly, so that he wouldn’t get all riled up. That was his nature.

«You’ll have to learn to behave, then I’ll treat you better, but not before,» she warned him and decided to calculate, almost by the hour, how long it would take to get him to settle down.

The star-shaped pendant was still twirling smoothly on the chain. Rhianon was mesmerized by its brilliance. She never even once compared it to the luster of the axe blade that had sliced the young man’s neck. How terrible it must be to die so young. But she did not see fear in that young man’s eyes. Maybe Orpheus was right and the blade of the axe only unleashes an unspeakably strong spirit from the human body. Then she wanted to believe that the young man was not dead, that somewhere is still his soul guarding the witch secrets entrusted to him in life.

Rhianon suddenly felt that they had crossed a bridge of some kind and was involuntarily astonished. Why would there be a bridge in such a wilderness? She did not even hear the sound of flowing water. And if there was a bridge, there had to be a river. Rhianon wanted to look out the window, but there was nothing but darkness behind the ajar curtain. A star, dangling on a chain, seemed to be the only source of light in the darkness around her. Rhianon peered at it, and caught sight of something in its rays of light. It was a speck of debris. The object grew to the size of a walnut shell, and now it was a tiny man, taking off his head a hat made just from the shell of a walnut or acorn.

«Madam,» he bowed to her exquisitely. Though all of him could fit in a thimble, Rhianon was flattered by his gesture. She smiled back. She’d heard of leprechauns before. She’d heard of leprechauns, and had been told that if you caught one and then held it in check, it would grant you every wish. Only somehow it seemed to her that there was no need to catch him. He is already caught, attracted and enchanted by the light of the star she holds in her hands.

«Who are you looking at?»

Rhianon could hardly drop the spell and look back at Orpheus.

«What do you mean? Can’t you see for yourself?»

But the tiny creature was gone. It had disappeared, as if it hadn’t appeared at all. But after its departure the moonlight shone just outside the window.

«Here we are,» Orpheus commented. «This is where you wanted to be.»

«There’s nothing beyond this window,» she commented, not seeing anything but the clearing and the bridge that had sprung up over it. It led nowhere, and there was no river, not even a ditch to span it. But the bridge itself was beautiful. Rhianon couldn’t help but notice how exquisitely the railings were gilded and how finely the ornate carvings had been chiseled on them.

«This is the spot,» Orpheus said. «They seem to have been waiting for you.»

Rhianon closed her eyes and imagined the couple in their elegant black robes. What would she say to them if she saw them here on the road, waiting for her for some unknown reason? And wouldn’t the horses have bucked at the sight of the mysterious strangers? Considering that they were already used to Orpheus, it was unlikely. But Rhianon herself could not get used to the fact that the world around her was becoming unusual. It was no longer the world she knew. It was a whole universe, hidden from human eyes, in which anything was possible.

Rhianon looked at the star in her hand. Neither end of it was so stretched out anymore as to be different from the others. So they really did come. There was nothing around, no palace, no chateau or rotunda, not even a shabby shack. And still the girl got out of the carriage. It was as if the bridge was waiting for her. And she went in its direction, leaving Orpheus to soothe the disgruntled snoring horses.

«Your Highness,» a voice came unexpectedly, and before she had even set foot on the bridge, she saw the very young man from the masquerade in front of her. The dainty black clothes matched his platinum curls. This time he wore no mask and was visibly pale. More pale than a dead man. And at the same time his voice was pleasant and his manners courteous.

He was not blocking her way to the bridge, but he seemed to be the one deciding whether or not she could set foot in that territory.

«No! No!» She noticed another dwarf nimbly gesticulating on the other side of the bridge. He was darting in one place, waving his arms as if he wanted to block the way for them both. «She’s not allowed in here. She belongs to him, not us. Wake up, Clive, he’ll burn us all if you let her in here.»

The young man reacted in no way to the dwarf’s obsessive cries. He stared at Rhianon, and though his face was expressionless, she sensed that he was on her side.

«I have it,» she held out the glittering star to him without knowing why.

«I know,» his bloodless lips parted in a faint smile. «And there are special rules today. You keep your pass. Come along.»

He held out his hand, which Rhianon touched reluctantly. Her skin was white as if it had been dusted with flour or chalk.

«Headless!» The dwarf muttered angrily before she ducked into the shadows.

Maybe she thought he meant it twice, but she didn’t. Rhianon tried to see the dwarf’s red hat in the darkness, but she could not. The darkness seemed to swallow him up. Orpheus, on the other hand, was not a step behind her now. He stayed close to her train as it slid across the bridge. He stayed just beside her train as it slid across the bridge. She and the young man in black seemed deliberately oblivious to each other.

«I have a right to be here, because I am your personal spirit, and here it is like a shadow,» Orpheus’ laughing eyes informed her triumphantly, but he himself was trying to keep quiet now. He really did stick close to her as an inaudible and invisible shadow. Except that, unlike the shadow, he was too bright. His red hair and motley attire would have stood out sharply even in a fairground, let alone here.

Rhianon stopped wondering where they were going. She had barely set foot on the bridge when the outlines of towers and bastions appeared in the distance on the other side of it. She could see the silhouette of a somber building, with its beautifully curved parapets and almost tracery of interlocking pediments, colonnades, and covered galleries. It was not even a building, but an entire city. It was an empty city. The dead silence ahead made her uneasy. Could it be that all those towers and bastions, even the basement below them, were completely empty. Or so it seemed. The sheer length of the building ahead made her wary, not to mention the fact that there must have been an immense space beneath the floor. She noticed staircases swiftly descending at times, wide and narrow, grand and spiral, half-covered by some dark living creeper, or simply hanging in the dark space without any visible support. She blinked quickly to get rid of the feeling that it was all a dream. Everything here was dark: the passageways, the carvings on the doors, the ampel plants that seemed to move on their own. Candles flickered on and off in sconces or large floor chandeliers, adding to the sense of blackness. At any rate, they only brought out black objects from the gloom. Rhianon only couldn’t tell what materials were used here. What was it, black wood, black stone to upholster the few pieces of furniture?

«It’s easy to get used to,» she heard Orpheus’ insistent voice in her head. «The fiery letters, which appear and disappear on their own when you ask questions, are best seen against such a background.»

Rhianon squinted at him. Of course, his lips weren’t moving, and he wasn’t saying anything out loud, but the words were coming out.

Suddenly the sound of music caught her attention. In one of the opened doors she noticed a harpsichord. And it seemed to be playing by itself. She would have thought it was the wind pressing the keys, but of course there was no wind. Why would there be any wind in such a confined space?

Rhianon imagined a girl in a gorgeous black dress sitting on a pedestal in front of the harpsichord and playing it. And beside her, of course, would be her gentleman, also dressed in black, correcting the sheets of music on the easel. For a moment she thought she saw those two, the same couple from the masquerade, but of course they were no longer masked, and the faces under them were as pale, bloodless, and expressionless as those of her companion. Is that how everyone here becomes? Does the power gained through magic drain all the joy of life from them? Is this the price of knowledge? They say one must sell one’s soul to gain the key to forbidden knowledge. And what happens then, will what you buy be worth its price, or do forbidden sciences merely open a gateway to darkness. Rhianon felt out of place here. She didn’t like the darkness around her and the rustles that echoed within it.

«It won’t always be like this, you’ll get used to it,» Clive didn’t whisper the words to her, but they seemed to sound to her alone, while his fingers gripped her hand harder and harder. He didn’t seem to want to let her go, but he already knew that she would soon want to leave.

She remembered the execution and the way the blade cut through a defenseless neck. The magical pendant was powerless to preserve flesh from the fatal blow. Maybe, by stepping in here, she was setting herself up for the same blow. There is a difference between physical strength and the evil energy hidden within these walls. The second is even worse, because it is more insidious and much stronger. Rhianon felt the crushing emptiness with every cell of her body. Maybe Orpheus had been right when he’d told her that a stroke of the blade was merely liberating. Here, on the contrary, she felt as if she were shackled. The darkness seemed to try to take her captive and never let her out again. Rhianon struggled to breathe in the stinking air and felt a flame build up in her chest. In a second she’d breathe out a trickle of fire into the darkness. She didn’t want to burn her companion, but the flame was bursting out. She couldn’t hold back any longer.

«Calm,» he turned around just as the air next to her heated up, «there’s nothing to defend yourself against, you can live here in peace for centuries without even noticing that they’ve passed, because nothing disturbs the silence.

«And so you can live here quietly side by side with the living and the dead?» She asked without knowing why. «And not even know that someone who died a long time ago is now keeping you company?»

«Yes,» he admitted simply and unashamedly. «It would be one grandiose crypt if it were not for magic, it equals all of us, both the living and the dead, or rather there is neither one nor the other, neither life nor death has no meaning here, because the soul is the same after death, and it hungers for magical knowledge no less than the living. Here we all die and are born to darkness. And some die before that.»

She tried to wrest her hand from his.

«I remember the execution,» she whispered.

Clive stopped abruptly, and looked at her differently, not with the long, hard stare she’d received the first time, but with a look of dismay. His unexpressive eyes twisted for a moment, his lips twitched slightly, as if he wanted to say something and couldn’t. Rhianon looked closely at him, and for a moment thought she had a glimpse into his soul.

«You’d better leave us,» Orpheus looked as if he were about to come between her and her escort. «You see, she doesn’t need a guide. She can learn a great deal more about this place herself than she can in your presence.»

Rhianon was frightened that a furious altercation was about to break out between her two companions. Orpheus looked angry and disheveled, as if he’d just had a fight with a bunch of rivals and was ready to get into more. There was a palpable power coming from Clive. But unlike the talkative Orpheus, he was still restrained and wise. Apparently, death adds to wisdom. Rhianon had no doubt that he had survived it, and now saw the world very differently than they did. At any rate, instead of the expected quarrel, only a slight nod of the head followed. Clive let it be known that he accepted the remark and was ready to step into the shadows temporarily.

«You shouldn’t be here,» Orpheus clutched at her shoulders as soon as Clive left them, pulling at the lush flounces of the fabric. His ethereal touch was suddenly very tangible. He hurried to lead her somewhere forward through the dark galleries, and seemed ready even to rip her off the ground and carry her in his arms. «You will die here,» he whispered, «and so will I.»

«You think we have somewhere else to go,» she hissed at him. «Perhaps to my castle, where I would be headless and you could sit guarding my corpse or pestering other people. You’d better go and be a companion for someone who’ll really need you.»

He didn’t even take offense at her.

«I’m already too attached to you.»

«Yeah, I can see that,» she grudgingly looked at the way his thin, too-long fingers wrapped around her shoulders.

«I can hardly keep up with you anymore.»

«That’s what parasites do when they suck on some plant. Vines in the garden or mushrooms at the roots of trees, you, like them, just need to live off someone else. On your own, you are nothing. You are zero. You are an empty space. You become more material the closer you get to me. And you think I haven’t noticed it yet.»

«Chill out! Otherwise your breath will ignite this gallery.»

His remark was sarcastic, but it was the right one. She tried to hold her breath. The tight corset tightening her breasts worked well for that. The fire that had matured inside her never broke free with a gasp. But Rhianon was still staring into the darkness, afraid that it was about to burst into flames.

«To think that you’re so golden and delicate, and you’re what I’d call a fiery beauty.»

She did not react at all to Orpheus’ remark. Sometimes even he was right. But that truth was of little use. Nothing could be changed. She was what she was and that was why they had come here now.

«Stop dragging me along,» she snapped at him, «I can find my own way around here.»

«Well, please,» Orpheus obediently took a step back from her. «Choose your direction. You’re the only one who can get where you want to go. After all, you were the one invited here, not me. Move at random and try not to inflame everything in the process. It’s so dangerous with you.»

He rubbed his hands as if they were burned. He could hardly have been burned by the contact with her shoulders. Rhianon regarded his gestures condescendingly, as if they were a joke. You would have been a fine clown, she wanted to say, but she listened to herself instead of bickering. She wondered if she should just take a random route and let the magic take her where she needed to go.

Rhianon stared down one of the branches of the wide, dark corridor, and long rows of sconces flashed on either side, as if pointing the right way. It was so reminiscent of the Milky Way. Rhianon involuntarily stared at the flickering lights in the darkness.

And then it suddenly seemed to her that she had missed something. There should have been some other rite or ritual, a test of her abilities, an initiation and a meeting, but there was none. The road before her seemed eerily empty.

«Why does no one greet us?» She asked Orpheus quietly.

«You are different and your story is special,» he shrugged nonchalantly, the ringing of the stirring bells in this space seemed ghostly rather than perky. It was so unaccustomed. Rhianon felt the fire inside her. But an icy wind had blown.

«You are allowed to walk around here alone. The others wouldn’t be allowed to do that. And you go wherever you want, though there are so many forbidden paths here.»

«I thought the way here was forbidden in itself.»

«But there are rules, too,» he too stared into the darkness expectantly, as if he could see something she hadn’t seen yet. «Let’s hope you don’t get hurt, my beautiful princess. After all, you are special, and so pretty. If anyone is offended by your presence in their midst, they will be silent, out of respect for the fire within you.»

«Stop your chattering,» she paced ahead of him.

«I’m only trying to talk sense,» Orpheus kept her at her side for several paces. Orpheus would not allow her to go more than a few paces away from him, and he would be at her side as if he were bound to her. There was really no getting away from him. But if she could bear to be around him, listening to his endless chatter was becoming unbearable.

«All you’re going to do is make my ears hurt,» she hissed, silencing him at least for a few moments. How nice it would be if he only commented on business and kept his own considerations to himself. Shall she tell him to do that? Was he bound to her by so much sorcery as to be compelled to do her every wish? That would have to be checked sometime. For now she was more interested in the aura of the place. Rhianon went wherever it seemed to be calling her.

The train glided smoothly behind her on the marble floor. In the silence ahead some rustling could be heard. There were hundreds of voices. They were talking and whispering, making absurd suggestions and jokes and promises, but they were all part of one big overarching silence. Perhaps she could have singled out any one of these voices just by wishing to listen to it alone, but she didn’t want to. She didn’t even want to look beneath her feet and notice in the cracks of the floor a multitude of tiny uncertain creatures, like the midget she had seen in the carriage just for a moment. Then he gave her a bow. Did this mean that she had been expected here for a long time.

Rhianon walked down the corridor for a long time before one of the open doors caught her eye. Every door she’d seen before had been closed, but here a golden light shone through the crack. She stepped closer, and all kinds of hues flashed through it. It reminded her of a rainbow. Rhianon was about to reach out and open the door, when she remembered that the star was still clutched in her hand.

«There is a pendant from the neck of the condemned man,» she must have said the words out loud when someone in the empty space answered her.

«Do you want to call out to him?»

It was not the voice of Orpheus behind her, and it was coming from somewhere above, not behind. She looked up and saw that a tiny man, just like the one she had seen in the carriage, was sitting over the doorpost. He, too, had taken off his wide-brimmed hat when she looked at him, exposing his tiny head. He would have easily fit into a thimble or a walnut shell all by himself. The creature was no bigger than a ladybug or a bug, but he acted as if he sensed his own importance. It was dressed somewhat differently than her last acquaintance. Tiny legs in gold stockings dangled over the ajar door. Rhianon was sure that if he wanted to jump down, he wouldn’t crash, despite his tiny size. She even thought she could put her hand under his arm and he would fly down with a sweep of his cloak like a butterfly’s wings.

«What do you mean?» she asked softly.

«A dead one,» was the serious reply, «a dead one can be the mentor of a living one. You could choose him.»

«I don’t need tutors. I like to learn everything myself, that’s why I came here. Those who are really good at something don’t need a mentor.»

«It seems that way.»

The lilliput was staring somewhere beneath her feet, and Rhianon glanced there, too, and noticed the scarlet drops on the floor. She’d squeezed the star too hard in her palm, and it had sharp ends. They were too sharp. Droplets of blood rolled to her feet, a few of them staining the hem of her dress. Others touched the floor and began to faintly ignite on it. But there was no smell of burning, as there usually was, and no shower of sparks or scorching flames. Rhianon saw the scarlet drops fade, and black flowers sprout from them.

«No more frogs and toads that would emerge from the drops of my blood,» she whispered, looking at the tiny black magnolias or orange blossoms. She didn’t even know what they might be called. They don’t look like clover either, but they’re exactly the size of clover heads.

«It is like a drop of your blood,» someone remarked.

Rhianon glanced at the doorway, but there was no sign of the little man.

«Don’t talk to them,» Orpheus warned her. «You see, they’re all over everyone, trying to lead you astray. They are empty-headed insects. They’ll do as much harm to you as locusts do to a field.»

«But they’re funny,» Rhianon stared into the empty space, trying to see what else was there. But all the tiny creatures seemed to hide after Orpheus’ reproof. It was so easy for them to hide. After all, there are so many cracks and burrows and just dark corners around. They could fit everywhere.

«What did he say about me?» she frowned and looked questioningly at Orpheus. «What do drops of blood mean?»

«Well, if your blood is spilled, but fell on no treaty, then your soul is of no use to anyone here.»

«Is it my soul?» She didn’t understand him.

«There is a price to pay for learning, my princess. And what did you expect?»

There is a golden crown, a triumphal procession, and a fanfare,» she joked, but then she realized this was no place for humor. Her laughter seemed to sink into the endless darkness, leaving only a crushing sense of emptiness. It was as if her soul had been drained out of her.

«Don’t be afraid, they don’t want to take your soul for some reason, it must belong to someone else,» his own voice cut off and fell silent. Orpheus obviously did not want to finish something.

«Is it my soul,» Rhianon repeated involuntarily, and this word sounded like a sigh and somehow frightened her.

«Yes,» Orpheus confirmed nonchalantly. «There are general rules for everyone, both for the marginally gifted and the super-talented. But they don’t seem to apply to you.»

«Do you know those rules?»

«Of course, and I wonder why no one has introduced you to them yet.»

«Then you name them.»

«Well, okay,» he shrugged. «First, anyone lucky enough to come here has to sign the contract with his own blood. It doesn’t matter if you stab your toe with a thorn, a pin, a needle, or just happen to cut yourself on a clump stuck in the doorpost, but the fact is, not a single drop of blood spilled here will be wasted. Barely a drop of it will get on the treaty, and you’ll see it. By the way, it’s already strange to me that you didn’t hurt yourself on the way in, no sharp teeth on the doorknob, no sharpened end of the pin you found. They don’t seem to want your blood too much. Otherwise you’d have found a sharp object, or stumbled across one. This is a school of the arcane arts.»

«Now,» she interrupted him abruptly. «What other rules are there? Or is there just one? And that’s my signature on the document, which, by the way, I haven’t even seen yet. And I probably won’t see it again, or else a drop of my blood will burn through it. Maybe that’s the only reason it wasn’t offered to me to sign.»

«I don’t think so,» Orpheus began to curl his fingers, clearly recalling the other terms, and Rhianon involuntarily noticed that there were more than five fingers on his hand. «One, you must sign with your own blood before you can begin training, two, no payment will be accepted – no payment in gold, because you must make your own gold,» he gestured briskly, and the doubloon glinted in his palm. «You see,» he showed the full coin triumphantly, «the third rule is, if you can’t do it, you have no business here.»

«Is it creating gold out of nothing?» She frowned.

«And what do you want, my dear, it is sorcery?» He tossed the coin, and it disappeared into thin air, just vanished into thin air. Rhianon would rather have thought he’d managed to hide it in his sleeve, but she didn’t see anything like that. The glittering gold really did seem to just emerge from the gloom and drown in it.

«You make your own gold, that’s the immutable rule of this place, which is why students would flock here in droves if it were open to all, but the trick is that only the chosen can come here. Everyone would like to be able to do something like this, but only the lucky few or the unfortunate can do it, they somehow consider themselves to be the latter, though if I were them…»

«You’re not,» she interrupted him, «and yet you can do it, too.»

«But not quite like them,» he corrected her reasonably. «Even you could do more if you wanted to.»

«I will someday, you bet I will,» she thought of her desperate longing to regain her lost kingdom, and the pain stirred in her soul again. She wanted power, and if only she had power, she would have no doubt in which direction to direct it and how to destroy her enemies. «Are you saying that those who come here are unhappy, despite their great gift?»

She arched her eyebrows skeptically.

«Well, personally I think it’s just bliss, but unlike me they have living hearts, they beat and hurt, they have human feelings, and they are not at odds with the burden of black talent that has fallen on them. You, for example, are not at all happy that fire lives inside you.»

She gave a silent gasp, though she should have realized long ago that he had guessed it. He could see inside her.

«And all because you’re used to living among people and thinking you’re a simple human,» he said, «you know you’re surrounded by simple vulnerable people, you’re used to feeling like them, you’re vulnerable like a fragile girl, and inside you lives such power. Too powerful even for a magical being, it burns through your graceful body. Never mind the broken feelings.»

«I wasn’t asking you about myself,» she reminded him.

«Oh, of course, there are the rules,» he continued to curl his fingers, more and more of them on his hand, as if new ones could grow at his will. «Create your own gold, and then you can create everything else, too,» he proclaimed, «No unelected tutors. No food but sorcery. No gratitude, nobody needs it here. No „thank you,“ no „goodbye,“ you just never leave here, because your soul will stay here, no matter where you go. The term of your training will expire, but the term of dependence on the magical forces you control will never, and believe me, one day you will stumble so that your own magic will destroy you itself. That’s when every student of the School of Witchcraft realizes that there was no one to thank and nothing to thank. He wove his own net and got tangled in it himself. And the victims that any disciple of this place can drag down, I don’t count anymore; there are always countless of them. You destroy yourself when you sign the contract with your blood, but you have no choice. The fragile human body, by a whim of fate, which holds a non-human talent, leaves the newcomer no choice. All the chosen ones come here, and here the same thing always awaits them. I think it’s very tragic to be born human and have non-human qualities. You’re like a moth tied to a candle in advance, you don’t even have to fly at it and you’ll burn anyway. And don’t look at me so accusingly, Rhianon, in your heart you know I’m right. With your unearthly gifts, you’re neither angel nor demon, though something in between, but you’re not human either, and thus you’re superfluous everywhere. That is why you think that your path lies with the School of Witchcraft. As a spirit I approve of you. It really is the only true path. It is better to perish after gaining a moment of your power here than to be an outcast for both humans and supernatural beings for a lifetime. For centuries I’ve watched humans discovering their magical powers as if from heaven, and I can assure you that a shelter here is the perfect way out for them. But you are different. You came here of your own free will, not because it’s time to improve your gift. So just remember one last rule. No gratitude. When a newcomer memorizes this condition as the last one, there is usually another one – someone’s shadow accompanying you. It will stay with you forever.»

Rhianon looked over her shoulder and saw no one. Orpheus had spoken his monologue with such self-confidence. She even flinched, though no one was following her.

«Is something wrong?» He was already smiling mockingly.

«Are you scaring me on purpose?» She snapped back angrily.

«No, I’m just testing how brave you are.»

«You are idiot! I should have you thrown out like a careless servant. Though you may be a spirit, you’re no better than a lazy peasant who’s been admitted to the castle kitchen and doesn’t know what he’s doing.»

«Hey, I merely said the general rules,» he said defensively. «You asked me to. Remember?»

«Yeah, but I didn’t ask you to comment on all those rules, just to name them.»

«If you were really meant to be here, you’d know them by now, they’d be written in fiery letters on the walls, like tablets or right in your brain, but believe me, you wouldn’t be left uninformed.»

«So why did they let me in at all?»

«It’s a mystery to me, too,» he stepped away from her and looked around as if he were looking for something. It was unclear whether he was joking, or whether he was really trying to find some clue. Nothing was ever quite clear with him, and his mood was always changing. One minute he was serious, and the next he was bursting into laughter and making obscene jokes. Rhianon was tired of him, but she could not drive him away. For one thing she did not know how to do it, and for another she was afraid to experiment, that she might drive him away for good, and then she would need him again. While she was not yet on the throne of her country, she could tolerate his presence around her. And then we’ll see if she needs such an advisor, who can find out everything about everyone, or if she will chase him away for being garrulous. At any rate, it will not be soon.

«Think about it, seven years,» he said, as if he could read her mind. «Do you really want to stay in that dark mansion for seven years? It’s a dark place. Besides, you won’t learn anything useful here. It’s so uncomfortable and dark.»

«But I can see light,» she nodded at the rainbow rays dancing in the gap between the door and the lintel.

«It’s just an illusion,» Orpheus tried with all his might to influence her decisions, but so far he had failed, and he was beginning to get angry. It seemed that if he found the tiny humans now, he would crush them with his own fingers.

«It’s all an illusion,» Rhianon corrected him. «You said yourself that magic is all there is. Magic is the only thing that can help me.»

«You’re exaggerating. There are many other ways to get back what you want,» he trailed after her, a gruesome look on his face. Rhianon shrugged, feeling the chill of his breath on her shoulders. He himself remained motley and bright, but it seemed to her that his sighs might freeze with ice.

«It is like picking up a companion spirit,» she teased him.

«Well…» Orpheus didn’t find something to say, probably for the first time in all eternity, and so he looked bewildered.

She was glad. So it was possible to surprise or offend him to the point where he would stop talking. Or maybe she should just not answer him so he’d shut up. His chatter would soon give her a headache. Rhianon sighed and reached for the opened door. Was the light really an illusion, or was a rainbow sheltering beyond the threshold? Her fingers touched the doorjamb, her movements unsure.

«You don’t have to follow me if you don’t want to,» she muttered, and involuntarily dropped her gaze to the hem of her dress. It was stained. There weren’t many red stains from blood drops, but they stood out sharply against the pale blue fabric.

«You don’t have your uniform yet,» someone said behind her, but not Orpheus. The voice was clearly that of a woman. Rhianon turned around and spotted the same couple at the end of the dark corridor. Strangely, their black outfits instead of blending into the darkness stood out sharply against her. She only recognized them by their clothes, though if black outfits were the uniform for everyone here, then the lady and the gentleman might not have been the ones she’d seen at the masquerade at all. They could have been other students of the School of Witchcraft dressed exactly the same. Yet something told her it was them. She liked the lady’s dress, which exposed her shoulders and was embellished with puffy trim, but she herself would have preferred men’s clothing. She was tired of dresses. She would have felt more comfortable in velvet breeches and a black camisole than in a corset that restrained her.

As soon as she looked away from the strange couple and glanced at herself, everything changed. There was white lace stretching across her breasts in place of the dainty cleavage. On her hands she noticed dark lapels and puffy cuffs. Diamond cufflinks gleamed slightly. Gold thread was gracefully woven into the white lace.

«It’s a privilege,» Orpheus remarked, «it’s obvious you’re special.»

Rhianon examined her black camisole. Just the way she wanted it. The wall next to her, which had been dark until recently, suddenly showed her a mirrored reflection. The costume looked good on her. The black was such a shade for her golden hair and pale skin. For a moment Rhianon studied the mirror reflection, tinged with a light haze. It was as if she did not know it. Who was this girl? Was she the perfect student of the School of Witchcraft? No, it was as if she was already standing on her way out of here, though she was still wearing her uniform, there was something childish or boyish about her, but it was immediately obvious that she was a seductive beauty.

The wall went dark again, and Rhianon turned away from her. And then, despite Orpheus’ protests, she opened the door and stepped into some room. At first she thought it was quite small, but in a moment she realized that she had miscalculated. In only a second it seemed to have grown in size, and it was already an entire miniature universe. Behind the huge windows stretched a starry night. For some reason only the heavens were visible, as if the earth was far away, and the hall itself was high above the Earth’s expanse. Rhianon was only confused by the bleachers placed there in a circle instead of the desks. They left vacant only a large circle in the center, as if a performance was being prepared here. One of the stands at the end of the hall seemed very much like a pulpit set up for a teacher or a judge. Somehow she found the latter suggestion absurd, but she couldn’t shake the intuition that it was not only a place of teaching and performance. There were also trials. Who and why would be tried in a place whose mere existence was probably against the law. If people found out about such a place, they would come here with a crowd of inquisitors and executioners. Yes, it is, and the supernatural beings seemed to be against humans being likened to them here. Rhianon could not understand the purpose of the strange objects in this hall. She ran her fingertips over the lid of some desk, shooting golden sparks out of the walnut wood.

«What is this place?» She asked Orpheus, when her own attempts to guess were in vain.

«It is the corner of the School of Witchcraft,» he looked around enigmatically, «it is an assembly or courtroom, they too have their own problems, inventions, and laws.»

He shrugged indefinitely, and it was clear he had nothing more to say.

«I wonder if that’s how you learn magic and pay for it.» She ran her slender fingers over the desk once more, almost shooting out a flame, but she jerked her hand away just in time.

«And your magic is stronger,» Orpheus remarked, as if casually. «Students can’t use their charms in this room, but you can. Perhaps you have great power.»