Ви Корс - The Mist and the Lightning. Part I

"She wrote about Nikto: 'I hear him, he needs me.' And I took her along. When we arrived to the city, Nikto came and took her away. And the king of the Unclean didn't do anything to me, or to my people, or to Nikto, or to her. You know they even respect Nikto for avenging his humiliation and fear him. The Unclean from the city don't particularly like their western congeners at all. But I think Nikto is a human being, he needs to live among humans, he suffers living with aliens."

"What you told me is terrible," Orel said. "That Unclean knows that because of him all her family was killed. And she still loves him as if nothing happened?"

"Yes, they are like that." Mark laughed. "She's even proud of him, and she doesn't care shit about her family. Well, is it enough for you? You can ask him about the rest."

Orel sighed.

"My people are absolutely against him."

"You know what?" Mark smiled. "Take them tomorrow night to the Lower Coliseum. Nikto will be there, and when they see him fighting, they will beg you to take him on the team!"

"What would I do without you, Mark!" Orel's eyes flashed with joy.

Chapter 3

The Agreement

"He isn't coming," Enriki said.

"He will come," Orel argued.

"If I were him, I wouldn't come," Enriki said. "Definitely."

"But you are not him!" Orel stabbed Enriki's chest with his finger in annoyance. "You are not."

"All right." Enriki raised his hands. "Fine."

A servant brought a tray with wine, bowed and started putting glasses on the table.

"He's here," Lis said quietly; from his place he could clearly see the entrance. Everyone froze.

"Is it really him?" Orel asked.

"I swear. He has your cloak and he's coming right up here," Lis whispered looking down at his glass quickly.

"Get out," Orel hissed at the servant who dropped the tray and disappeared in a moment. Nikto came up to them.

"Hello."

"Hi. Take a seat." Orel pointed at the chair on the opposite side of the table, in the corner.

The tables here were separated by high walls. Tol got up to let Nikto in. Nikto glanced at Tol and took the offered place without saying a word. When he pushed off the hood and let the cloak slip from his shoulders. Nikto's blonde hair fell onto his forehead, and he shoved it aside with a familiar gesture of his fingerless hand. The only difference was that they had seen his scar then and now his face was hidden behind a black mask.

"You can take your mask off," Orel said. "It's our place, feel at home here. Besides, it'll be difficult for me to talk to you without seeing your face."

"Fine." Nikto removed his mask.

"Care for a drink?" Orel put a glass in front of him. "I think you know what we called you for."

"No." Nikto took the glass and leaned back in the chair.

"No?" Orel was slightly surprised.

"The Unclean gave me a note with time and place."

"But did you figure out it was from us?"

"No. But when I saw you, I did."

"You've come to a meeting without knowing whom you'll meet?" Enriki asked in surprise. "It's not reasonable."

Nikto smiled.

"The note was not from you but from my friend, I was going to see him. When I saw you, I understood you found me with his help."

"Yes, that's right," Orel said. "It was Mark who helped us. And I'll tell you something for you to see that we are frank about it. Before meeting you we gathered some information on you. And…"

It seemed to Orel Nikto was smiling. But his lips didn't curve, just his eyes sparkled as if laughing. At that moment Orel recalled Mark's words: 'Nikto is reading our thoughts, and I think it is true, he understood what I thought of him.'

"But you likely know that," he said in confusion.

"No, I don't. I haven't seen Mark for a long while, just got that note. But I can imagine what he told you of me."

"Nothing bad, I can assure you!"

"Well, prince, I don't mind him calling me for a meeting with you – as well as sharing his impressions on me. Let's be done with this topic and talk about business. What is it you want?"

"We want… well, I think you know what!"

"Again you say I know. No, I don't. How can I know if you haven't said anything?" Nikto put down his glass. "We want from you guess-what. It could've been funny if it were not coming from you. You know, prince, I start regretting I've come."

He got up but Tol blocked his way.

"Nikto, wait, we wanted to invite you on our team. Haven't you read our thoughts?"

Orel grabbed his head in horror. "To-o-ol!"

"Well said," Lis added.

"Read your thoughts?" Nikto sat down again suddenly laughing. Orel raised his head. "Did Mark tell you that?"

"Yes."

"I can't read thoughts."

"You can't?" Tol muttered in disappointment.

"Did you want me to help you trick rich guys? Too bad, it won't work out, you're mistaken." Nikto finished his wine. "Well, it was nice to see you."

"Nikto, wait, you have to understand…" Orel started. It seemed his resolution returned to him.

"I understand, no problem."

"But it doesn't mean our offer is cancelled."

"Really? Why would you need a man who cannot read thoughts?"

"Nikto, stop teasing us. We need you as a warrior, not as a warlock."

"Both would be better," Tol muttered under his breath.

"You can just stay with us for a while," Orel said. "If our cooperation doesn't work, you'll leave."

Nikto looked at Orel and his eyes didn't sparkle mischievously any more.

"I'm not such a good warrior as you think," he said. "Otherwise I wouldn't have so many scars."

"Let us judge that," Orel said. He took another glass from the tray left by the servant and put it in front of Nikto.

Nikto was silent.

"We own several streets of the Upper and the Lower city. We also take some orders from clients, sometimes think of something ourselves."

"If you join us, you won't have to do dirty jobs for the Unclean," Tol said with enthusiasm.

"To-o-ol, shut up," Orel hissed.

"Let's imagine I didn't hear that," Nikto said.

"No one thinks your job is dirty," Orel said.

"I'd rather not prove anything here and now," Nikto said. "I'm in a good mood today."

"Shit, do I have to apologize again?" Tol mumbled in resentment. "Okay, okay, my fault," he sighed. He clearly was afraid of angering Nikto but Nikto seemed not to care about his apologies.

"I think four of you are enough," Nikto said. "You found each other a long time ago and I will be excessive."

"No, you're wrong," Orel smiled. "There are not just four of us, that is, now we are four. It is all that is left from my team that used to be big… a while ago."

"So, you're recruiting new people. And what happened to the old ones, if you don't mind telling?"

"I don't mind," Orel smiled. "They were killed. I don't think it'd scare you away. Two of them were ambushed half a year ago, two died of wounds. We had two girls, too, I regret losing them the most. And there are some who are not dead but are not with us now. Toby is a captive with our rivals. Squint-Eye is in prison."

"I've never heard a more sorrowful story," Nikto said, and everyone laughed. "Fine, but what do you think of my connection with the Unclean?"

"You have to choose: either you stay with us and dedicate your life to our problems, or return to them and forget us."

There was silence; everyone waited for Nikto's reply.

"I need a probation period," he said at last. "I'm not sure I can live among humans but I don't mind the idea."

"Will two months be enough for you to figure it out?"

"Yes."

"But no Unclean during this time, not even one! If you manage, it means it’ll work for us."

"And what is my role in your game?"

"Just like ours. I'm the boss but we decide everything together, you will have the vote like the others, and the right to your share of profit. You'll get rich soon, will be able to buy lands and slaves."

"And me being a slave myself doesn't trouble you, does it?"

"You're not born a slave, it means you're not a slave."

"But other people don't think so, they will despise you for associating with me. Believe me, I know what I'm talking about. The Upper City is closed for me."

"Well, as you see we're opening it for you. Now it depends on you if you have enough courage to enter it."

"I do. But if you decide everything together, I would like to know what Lis, Enriki and Tol think of me. I know you've discussed it and decided – and yet."

"All right, Enriki, what will you say?"

"I'll say we need an experienced man, and you suit us."

"And I'll say," Lis sighed, "that I was against you but I'm in a minority. But as for the opinion of the society, I don't care, for sure."

"Me too," Orel said.

Nikto laughed. "Oh well, I see you don't care about anything but Tol doesn't think so, it seems."

"No, I don't!"

"To-o-ol!"

"No, Orel, wait. I want to have a say, too. I care! I hate it when people laugh at my face and say that Orel's group is a pathetic bunch of idiots and it's just a matter of time to finish them off. I'm going to return us our former respect. And Nikto will help us to scare them all shitless!"

"Ooh. Tol! What are you thinking? What is this trash in your head?" Orel sighed hopelessly.

"Just forbid him to open his mouth at all," Lis said, annoyed.

"You keep your mouth shut, you redhead half-blood!" Tol retorted.

"How can I scare them?" Nikto asked. "Can you explain me?"

"Yes, I can!" Tol said defiantly. "And stop confusing me, shut your mouth, shut your mouth! Everyone knows WHO his father is!"

Everyone froze but Nikto stayed sitting calmly and his expression didn't change.

"You're gonna to get bitten," Lis said.

"Damn you," Nikto said and then looked at Tol with a smirk. "And you are not afraid, are you?"

"I am," Tol said. "But now you're our friend, so, he won't harm us."

"But maybe it's better to stay away from such friends?"

"Maybe it's better – but I like to risk, and it's a good chance to test my luck! And I'm sure you won't be at disadvantage either. You have to join us. I'm speaking straight, I can't come up with clever speeches like Orel. Will you join us?"

"I will," Nikto said.

"Well, Tol, today is your day," Lis said.

"Let's toast. For all of us!" Enriki raised his glass.

They drank some wine and lit cigarettes.

"Can you read and write?" Tol asked Nikto after a while.

"Yes," Nikto said; he smoked leaning against the back of the chair, as usual. The scar crossing his face seemed black in the dim light.

"Human language? Or Unclean?"

"Both. And Red too."

"Cool!" Tol was surprised. "But do you write like you speak?"

"What do you mean?"

"Hmm, a little incorrectly, you're speaking not quite like we do. Same words but somehow another feeling."

"I think Tol means accent," Lis said. "You speak with an accent yourself, Tol."

"Me? You're kidding."

Everyone laughed.

"Do I write with an accent?" Nikto smiled. "No, Tol, I write better than I speak."

"And I speak better," Tol said and everyone laughed again. "Lis is lying about me having an accent! Do you see me having an accent, Nikto?"

"No, I don't."

"See?" he turned to Lis showing him a fist. "Don't you dare kid me."

"You have a south-western accent," Lis said. "Don't you remember where you're from?"

"Okay, I remember but you also remember watching your mouth."

"All right, all right," Lis shook his head.

"And can you count, do you know book-keeping?" Tol asked Nikto again.

"I can."

"Look at him, he can do anything!"