Blood…

  It was everywhere. He was drowning in it, choking, and he could see right through every drop that flowed from hundreds of fallen bodies. In these crimson rivers there was rage, lust, greed, avarice, hatred, revenge…

  The web of time was weaving itself, and lightning was already splitting the sky, thunderclouds flickering with dim reflections. The grasses over the steppe froze, the leaves on tree branches that hung limp didn’t stir. Thunder shook the earth, brown, soaked with endless blood…

  He screamed. It turned into a hoarse rasp, his parched throat unable to squeeze out a sound. The world spun, and something foul clogged his throat. Then hot air blew into his face, and feeling salty rivulets run from his burned lips, he saw the gray cloth ceiling of the tent above him and froze, still stunned and blinded by what he had seen.

  It had been a long time since Dreams had come to him with such frightening clarity.

  There was blood on his pillow, on the blanket tangled around him, on the floor, on his fingers and hands. Not the blood of thousands slain in the southern port city. His blood.

  He slowly untangled himself from the blanket. His lips and fingers burned—clearly, he had bitten them during the awful delirium, trying to stifle his screams. Kairu rose, bent down, and exited the tent. The sky was overcast, not blue but milky-white, and only in the east, slightly above the forest, the sun broke through the thin layer of clouds. Grass swayed under the strong hot wind, and high above the valley, scarred by the Nocturn workers, trees on the hillsides of the Kefrin Forest rocked. Somewhere at the edge, in a narrow deep ravine, the sound of shovels rang out, and wheelbarrows clattered, loaded with goods at least five hundred years old.

  Kairu slowly moved toward the nearby lake. The reeds rustled around him, tiny flowers blooming in the damp grass crumpled underfoot. Murky waters lazily lapped the eroded shore. Kairu leaned over the water, slowly scooped up a handful, watching as droplets fell from his cupped palms, landing with faint ripples. He touched his face with wet hands and saw they had darkened. He washed several times, tried to see his reflection in the water—and couldn’t. In frustration, he scooped up some clay from the bottom and hurled the muddy lump far away, watching particles swirl in the current.

  Distant surprised cries echoed.

  No one knew how they got here. Perhaps it was simply that no one had wandered through this deep, shadowy ravine in many years, let alone tried to investigate it, to search beneath the thick grass and moss, under fallen roots and branches, under the roots of juniper bushes. The smell of rot hung heavy; nearby in the pit dug by the Nocturns lay skeletons, blackened shafts of axes and shovels, and upturned, time-worn wheelbarrows. But Petros wasn’t interested in them.

  Crouching, he gently parted the grass trailing over the ground, examined his strange finds, and felt with his hand the hardened, long-dried prints of boots and horseshoes. From time to time, he came across small iron objects of strange shapes. To the workers, they might seem like devilish amulets of unknown origin, but Petros already knew: those who once worked here called these objects bolts.

  The presence of bolts told Petros with certainty that the structures in the ravine were fifteen hundred years older than the city they had excavated by the river. Ancient Nocturns had worked here long before the white conquerors arrived in Laugdeil.

  He walked through the cool twilight, parting ivy with his staff, sifting through moss. Lizards and beetles jumped toward the steep, grassy slopes; ahead, the sun glittered through the lacework of willow branches, through the web of fine interwoven green threads. The air, scented with nearby swamps, was warm and still—even the bumblebees, buzzing overhead from one side of the ravine to the other, moved slowly, lazily beating their wings. Movement only began above the frozen willows, in the green-needled crowns of pines, which swayed slightly and stirred with the tiniest of motions.

  Petros walked on. The murmured chatter of the workers with shovels, who had discovered the place, faded behind him. He had not allowed them to follow. He had to verify the theory himself. His mind worked with unusual clarity and precision, instantly comparing what he knew of the ancient Nocturns to his findings, while also pondering, for what felt like the hundredth time in two weeks, the conversation Saelin had with the kings.

  Without a doubt.

  He stopped and slapped his forehead. Most likely, this road had begun back in the city they excavated first, and he had lost track of it in the forest. But now he knew exactly where he had to go.

  Petros bent down again, parted the grass. Yes, that was it. Rotten wooden planks, apparently preserved from vanishing by ancient magic; iron rails stretched along the ravine floor, disappearing deeper into the forest. Deep scratches, metal wheels cast aside—carts had once moved here. Carts carrying what?

  Most likely, the rails led from mines located somewhere nearby. This spot had been chosen for a reason. Most likely, it was here, two thousand years ago, that they had discovered…

  "Petros?"

  "Mmm? Kairu?"

  "You're already here? Why didn’t you come in right away?"

  "My freelance workers uncovered something unusual. You, I see, aren’t particularly interested in our progress, since they sent me a letter three days ago when they found these rails. Naturally, I rushed here from the roadside tavern on the banks of the Ilvion. It’s a very interesting find. It proves my hypothesis."

  "What hypothesis?" Kairu asked gloomily.

  "All in good time. You know, we’re expecting guests soon. Now wait a moment…"

  Kairu remained silent, watching Petros carefully part the grass.

  "There was a road here," he finally said. "We’ll need to cut a sample of this structure… What was I saying? Ah yes, the road. Most likely, it was originally built as a transport link for granite mined in the forest’s depths. I think it bypasses Nalvin, heading through the hills to the mountains. It seems no one has yet thought to send an expedition there. So, all my findings come together into a cohesive picture. That’s good…"

  "We’re moving to another site again?"

  "Naturally. My work here is done. Unless you want a history lecture?"

  "In plain language, please. No scholarly terms. What exactly did you figure out?"

  Petros straightened up and looked at Kairu. He began striding back toward the camp. Kairu followed, barely keeping pace with the professor’s long, sharp steps.

  "Do you know where we are, Kairu?"

  "No idea."

  "This is the Tinakto Plateau. North-east of the Southern Province, hilly terrain, wild, primordial lands. From documents and findings at other sanctuaries and cities, I learned that this area holds rich deposits of granite, coal, and ore. Two thousand years ago, before settlers began colonizing Laugdeil, there was massive mining activity here. This long-abandoned road was used for transporting the resources. Now we can assume it doesn’t lead into Nalvin, but around it from the south. Again, that’s wild land, uninhabited by modern people, but on ancient Nocturn maps, this arc was lined with major industrial cities. Now we’ve found the main transport route for these resources. We just have to follow it, and I have no doubt it ends somewhere in the mountains of the South Province, on the Selinel Ridge."

  "And what will we find there?"

  Petros turned around.

  "There we’ll find another shrine," he said. "It’s very possible that Saelin, Nubel, and I have been walking the same path all along. According to ancient documents, there were no mining operations in the Selinel mountains. It seems nothing could be extracted there at all. But our task is to find out why, of all places, resources gathered from across the South Province were stored there, far from the civilized Nalvin Valley. A huge stockpile of granite, coal, gold, limestone a hundred miles from the nearest active mining site. Do you understand?"

  "And what if you’re wrong?"

  "Then several years of work have been in vain."

  ***

  The camp was packing up again. The excavation site had been abandoned, and the Nocturns were loading tools onto wagons, hitching horses, shouting to one another as they folded up tents along with all their belongings and equipment. The glass of mirrors and the metal of dishes and wash basins clattered. Kairu and Petros mounted their horses and rode slowly along one side of the ravine, while the wagon column moved along the other.

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  The sun was blazing.

  They continued on, riding over hills and descending back into the ravine, passing groves and emerging onto open clearings, crossing well-worn paths. The wagons rattled on ungreased wheels, bouncing and shaking over ruts, while the Nocturns sang softly and slowly in their native tongue. Occasionally, bursts of laughter broke out, and something would crash loudly at the bottom of a wagon.

  "Why were you gone so long?"

  "I was all over Aktida," Petros replied, grinding his teeth. "First, I visited Nubelrain again. As I expected, Nubel had taken some precautions for unforeseen circumstances. Of course, the laboratory on the second floor had burned down completely, along with all the chemical experiments, reagents, machines, and prototypes of new inventions. But the basement storage, in the bunker, where especially important documents were kept in coolers—that remained. Apparently, Saelin’s looters didn’t go down there. I managed to get inside, and I found that after his work and experiments with the Lake of Aktida, Nubel had intended to follow the same path I did, searching in the Southern Province. There were chronicles of the ancient Nocturns, reports about construction projects in Tinakto, and short notes about relocating the Mainor Department of Theological Research to an unknown town north of the Nalvin Valley. Nalvin itself at the time didn’t even exist."

  "You spent two months in Nubelrain?" Kairu asked skeptically.

  "Of course not. After that, I headed west again, straight through the forests, directly to Nalvin. There, I visited the Mage Guild’ library, dug through the archives, met with a few assistants. A letter from Mainor, from one of our spies, caught up with me in the city. He warned of the arrival of the envoys from Vaimar and Rikutiam, of a closed council meeting and a trip to Nubelrain. After that, I took the old road to Ilvion, planning to cross into the Eastern Province, to visit the county of Onklag, Boreain… But that’s not important. On the way, I stopped at a small roadside inn and—brace yourself!—I ran into every monarch of Laugdeil all at once," Petros laughed. "Picture King Emerlun in a gray travel cloak, red-faced with rage Jake Farian, and that fat fool Raniot, sitting together over mugs of beer in a crowd of vagabonds! They joined me on the journey through the Eastern Province. But I didn’t go to Saelin’s Castle. He hates me, and it would be dangerous for me to show up there. He spoke to the kings in private, after which Emerlun left and looked pale as a sheet for the rest of the trip—I met them again when they stopped in Boreain. Naturally, I didn’t get any information out of them and didn’t want to push my luck. Maclevirr has held a grudge against me for years, and though I act bold enough, I don’t want to overstep. Exile is the last thing I need right now… Now we wait for news."

  "By the way," said Kairu. "Speaking of news. I had another dream today."

  "Really?" Petros didn’t seem particularly interested. "What was it about?"

  "A city. A coastal city. On fire."

  Petros gave him a sharp glance.

  "We’ll see soon enough what that might mean."

  "I think so too," Kairu said grimly. "Don’t you want to hear more?"

  "Go ahead… Although honestly, it doesn’t matter yet. We won’t be able to change anything now. If one part of this story turns out to be an attack on a coastal city, then that’s just how it’ll be… Tonight we camp in the forest, but in a couple of days we’ll arrive in a town called Daniokh… Hold on, soon you’ll finally get a proper night’s sleep."

  ***

  Interesting, Kairu thought, staring at the ceiling, when will all these aimless wanderings around the world finally end?

  Yesterday they had traveled another dozen miles through the forest, following a route that kept slightly off from the overgrown railway. They were searching again, Petros scanning the ground, frowning, barely eating during breaks, poring over his ancient parchments and manuscripts. Clearly, things were not going well.

  What a gift—a town, even a small one, in the middle of these deserted woods! Civilization at last: human voices, roads with traffic, the creak of wagons, the noise of a small market square. That was the first thing they heard as they reached the edge of the forest and the outer courtyards surrounded by low palisades. It reminded Kairu of Petista, only without the snow, or of small border towns in the Western Province where they had stayed during their journey last year. For Kairu, it primarily brought to mind taverns, inns, and lodging houses, one of which he was now in, resting in a second-floor room, savoring the simple joy of lying on a featherbed worth five gold coins, with a three-coin pillow and a straw-filled mattress worth ten. All expenses, of course, paid by Petros.

  Kairu lay staring at the ceiling, lazily listening to the voices drifting up from downstairs and the street. Chief among them was Petros’s cold, sharp voice, ringing with a metallic edge. Someone else was speaking to him, there were bursts of laughter, surprised exclamations, and the drunken cursing of card players. The people below had to eat in a hall thick with tobacco smoke, where crowds gathered for games of chance.

  Eventually, he got up, though he couldn’t quite decide whether he preferred to keep lounging or to go downstairs and once again try to question Petros about the purpose of their archaeological wandering. Past attempts had yielded no success.

  He ran into Petros in the hallway near the professor’s room.

  "Ah, you’re up already," said Petros, giving him an appraising look. "Good, otherwise you might have missed breakfast. Come. Someone here is very eager to see you."

  Still puzzled, Kairu followed him inside.

  Petros hadn’t splurged on Kairu’s room. He had given him a small chamber with a single window, a vanity table, and a wardrobe, while the professor himself had taken a luxurious suite with a bedroom and a sitting room. The inn was unlike the places Kairu usually slept in. Even in Petista before he had not seen large rooms like this, furnished with wide walnut tables, expensive chairs with calico upholstery, a sofa, armchairs, and even a fireplace. Petros had made good use of the sitting room to host a calm gathering.

  When Kairu walked in, Viggo froze. Remiz, as always, showed not the slightest surprise, just a faint smile. Rita jumped up from a chair she’d been curled up in and stared at him in shock, while he stepped forward, still not quite believing what he was seeing.

  "I’m glad you’re all back together," said Petros with a smirk.

  "Kairu!" Viggo leaped up and rushed toward him. "Finally! You’re here too!"

  "Hi, Viggo," Kairu mumbled and groaned as he was crushed in the iron grip of the Kald, who seemed taller and even stronger than before. "Oof! I’m glad to see you too, but I’m even more curious how all of you ended up here at the same time!"

  "Thank Rita," Viggo said, laughing and loosening his hold. Kairu was no longer looking at him.

  It was as if no time had passed since they parted ways in Petista. He smiled, remembering how he’d last seen her—and she hadn’t changed a bit. She still looked at him with that same slight smirk in her cold, deep green eyes, still smiled faintly at him. But now there was something else in her gaze. He knew what she could be like, and that this strange look could mean anything, and yet, he firmly decided that right now, Rita was genuinely glad to see him.

  He awkwardly muttered, "Hello," flopped into a chair, smiled at Remiz, and then fixed his gaze on Petros, who locked the room’s door, turned to the reunited members of the memorable expedition, sat at the table, and began pouring wine into goblets with a serious expression.

  "Kairu, you look great—tanned, full-cheeked!" Viggo shouted, as energetic as ever. "It’s obvious you spent the whole summer in the Southern Province and not three months on the road like Remiz and me. Come on then, tell us how you got out of Nubelrain that night? What a night that was, huh? Yuf pulled us out and swore you were already safe, but damn it, I didn’t want to leave until I saw it with my own eyes! Yuf held me back, or I would’ve gone through those bandits with my axe! I mean, really—what nerve, attacking Nubel’s estate!"

  "And it’s very strange that the security didn’t kick in," Remiz added quietly and thoughtfully.

  "Strange indeed," Petros agreed. "But don’t dwell on it. What happened, happened. What matters now is that you’re all alive and that I was able to gather you in one place again. And for that, we really have to thank Rita."

  "Yeah, but you guys really know how to cloak things in mystery," said Viggo. "The next morning, once we’d sobered up a bit, I thought: on one hand, it’s total nonsense—just as we deliver the diamond to Nubel, he gets killed, and the diamond disappears. But on the other hand, why should I care? My contract with Nubel was done. I fulfilled everything I was supposed to. And Yuf advised me to get out of the country quickly and lie low. So I rode with him to Mainor, cashed Nubel’s check, transferred it all to my Vaimar account, and rode home in peace.

  "I got to Arctarium, barely had time to blow the dust off everything that built up while I was gone, and, bam, a letter from Rita. Says I need to come back urgently, Kairu needs help, and the diamond needs to be recovered from whoever snatched it. And she included a check to cover all expenses. Of course, I didn’t understand a damn thing, but I took another leave from the Guild and came back.

  "I arrive in Petista, and there’s Remiz with his suitcases, and his story is exactly the same. So the three of us show up here, and there’s Petros—my respects, professor," he added with a playful bow. "Now what I want to know is: what the hell is going on, and what kind of help do you need, Kairu?"

  "I’d like to know that myself," Kairu said, looking at Petros.

  "Rita misled you. The help is for me," said Petros. Viggo opened his mouth to say something, but the professor raised a hand. "But it’s also for Kairu. I’ll explain everything. It’s a long and serious story. Sit down. Breakfast is getting cold."

  "He sure knows how to win people over, doesn’t he?" Viggo grinned, sat at the table, and pulled a plate of eggs and bacon toward himself. "I’m not promising that after one breakfast I’ll storm the Castle of Saelin and wrest the Lake of Aktida out by force. But I’m willing to listen to a good story."

  "Then please, eat and keep quiet until I’m done," said Petros.

  In the ensuing silence, everyone began clinking forks and chewing. Only Petros sat still, absently running a thin, dry finger along the rim of his wine cup.

  "Listen carefully," he said at last. "This will be a long story. First, I ask you to remember and swear one thing: nothing I tell you must leave this room. This is a massive secret, and if it falls into the wrong hands—it’s over. The fewer people know what I’m about to share, the better. Ideally, I would have done it all myself. But each of you has already proven to be a true professional, and together you are an exceptional team, capable of handling anything. The Nubel’s expedition was your test, and you passed with flying colors. I need people like you, because I can’t do this alone. So: swear you’ll keep your mouths shut… except when speaking with someone you absolutely trust. Yuffilis is one such person. There may be others. But I beg you—be careful with this knowledge. Many have died because of it. Nubel, for example. And… I’m almost certain—your parents, Rita."

  "I’m helping you because you promised to tell me who killed them—and why," Rita said coldly and sternly.

  "And I promised I would tell you everything I know. But not yet. Once I have a little more information… So. For you to understand this story, I’ll have to start from the beginning."