Ви Корс
The Mist and the Lightning. Part I
"Yes, it started," Orel smiled dreamily. "And I'm happy."
"Oh fine, enjoy yourself, and I'm leaving." Lis put the glass down. "It's late. Your beloved is coming soon, I think. If I don't see him tonight, I think I'll sleep better."
"What if he doesn't come?" Orel said shakily.
"Oh, don't you start! He'll come, you did order him."
"Maybe he doesn't care for my orders."
"Now that's something new. Weren't you certain that he was obedient?"
"Yes, but now I am not. He might stay with his Unclean wife, his house is there."
"You told him: either us or the Unclean. He has the Unclean wrapped around his little finger; we're still loose. He'll come."
"But when? It's so late!"
"It's late for us, it's early for him. He probably only wakes up at this time normally."
"All right, I'll be waiting. And I rely on you."
"We'll do everything we need and I'll come back tomorrow morning. And please, Arel, be careful."
"I promise to tell you honestly everything that happens tonight," Orel said. "I need your cool head because mine is burning."
"I'm glad you say that, you know how much I love you. And you know what I'm ready to do for you."
"Yes, you see through people. And you see me as I am. Unlike Tol and Enriki."
"See you tomorrow, Arel. Have a merry night with your tattooed friend," Lis laughed and left.
Chapter 10
At night
It was quiet in the castle, only from time to time the wind knocked sharply on the latticed windows, and then Orel flinched. He was sitting alone in his big luxurious room and listened. He wanted to hear the stamping of the hooves of Nikto's evil stallion he called a strange, difficult to pronounce Unclean name. But only hysterical gushes of wind reached him. It seemed he'd spent an eternity like that. Far away, somewhere in the castle, the clock rang, loud and solemn.
Orel slowly put a half-empty cup on the table, passed his fingers over the transparent glass.
"Enough drinking," he said to himself. "'Enough drinking, you drink too much, son.' Yeah," he muttered thoughtfully, "your son is totally fucked." He laughed. "I'm drunk and I don't care shit!"
He grabbed his glass, gulped the wine and wiped his mouth with his hand.
"I don't care shit! Do you hear me?" he yelled in the empty room and threw the glass at the closed door. The glass shattered into pieces with a deafening noise. In silence this sound seemed to Orel killingly loud. He squeezed his head with his palms. "Oooh!"
The wind howled furiously behind the window, knocked on the stained-glass window making it jingle. Orel got up heavily, slowly walked up to the bar. He took another glass, filled it with wine.
Before sitting back into the chair, he stopped at the mirror. For a few moments he looked at it dumbly. His reflection stared back at him: his dark hair, long and straight, parted in the middle – slaves had twined a few eagle feathers into it – framed his light-grey face colored with a special paint. His brown eyes lined with black had an unkind look.
Raising his glass Orel clanked it against the mirror.
"Cheers!" he said to his reflection. "You look fucking shitty." He laughed and drank, then turned sharply and threw the glass at the door without looking. He pressed his hands against the mirror table, leaning heavily, then suddenly froze realizing something. There had been no noise, he hadn't heard glass shattering.
It was silent in the room.
Orel shivered and slowly turned to the door.
Nikto was standing in the doorway, holding the glass in his hands – the remnants of the wine leaked over his fingers.
Orel started back, bumping into the table, overturning little jugs and phials that stood there.
Nikto was mask-less, he looked at his hands.
"Shit," he said nonchalantly and walked up to the bar as if nothing happened. "I saved your family glass," he added. "Can a have a drink for that?"
He turned to Orel who was still standing at the mirror unable to say a word.
"Orel, snap out of it," he said in annoyance.
"H-how did you get there?" Orel stammered.
Nikto filled his glass and sat down in the armchair. He looked at Orel carefully.
"Orel, are you afraid of me?"
"How did you get there?" Orel yelled.
Nikto slammed the glass down on the table loudly.
"You told me to come! I used the pass you gave me and entered the Upper City, then rode to your castle. The bridge was down, your servants opened the gates for me. You probably told them I would come. Then I walked through the door, up the stairs – and here I am!"
Orel covered his ears with his palms.
"Okay, okay, just don't shout, please – I can't stand it!"
Nikto got silent, glanced at Orel resentfully and turned away.
"I'm sorry," Orel said, "I was frightened. Yes, you're right, I'm afraid of you. And who wouldn't be if you appear like a ghost, all of a sudden? I nearly had a heart attack. My servant was supposed to tell me you'd come."
"Your servants ran away when seeing me. At least they took my horse – otherwise I'd have to take him to the stables myself."
"Oh gods."
"Enough of calling for your gods."
"Sorry," Orel smiled. "I'm glad to see you, really glad. It's a pity it turned out like that."
"All right, it's my fault," Nikto said, "I should have knocked. But I couldn't even imagine you were spending your time like that."
"It was an accident," Orel flushed.
"I know. Are you going to keep standing there?"
Orel was embarrassed. "No."
He looked at the scattered phials. One of them got smashed and black liquid spread on the expensive carpet.
"Oh shit." Orel gave Nikto a forlorn look. Nikto watched him with interest.
"Regretting for your carpet, huh?" he said, barely able to keep from laughing.
"I dunno," Orel said. "But yes, it's no good."
"It is the face paint, isn't it? Try to pour some of the 'water' you use to wash it off on it. You have some, don't you?"
"Yes," Orel said; he took a phial with transparent liquid and looked at it thoughtfully, "but my skin is one thing, the carpet is another." He poured some liquid on the stain; it paled immediately and disappeared in a few moments. Orel looked at Nikto happily. "Did you know that? Did you do it before?"
Nikto laughed. "Not at all. I have the paint but I don't use it often. But are aristocrats like you allowed to paint their faces?"
"Don't you see mine is painted?"
"I see. That's why I ask."
"Actually we aren't but I'm a fallen prince, I'm allowed anything." Orel sat down in the armchair in front of Nikto and lit a cigarette. "The grey paint penetrates the skin so deep that I cannot dissolve it with anything. I'm a disgrace for my noble family. You know last year they didn't let me in to a theater in the Upper City. There is a gathering of the high society there, once every half a year, and they simply threw me out of there like a dog. And just imagine, my ancestors ruled this whole world once!" He looked at his hand. "Now I only have this royal ring, but it isn't worth anything. You won't understand that. Well, for example, it'd be as humiliating for you as if they didn't allow you into a theater in the Lower City."
"Actually, they don't," Nikto said sipping his wine.
"You're kidding!"
"Not at all."
Orel looked at him in surprise and they both laughed.
"I forgot to thank you for the soldiers."
"Don't mention it."
"No, wait, I decided to give you something for it. Let's go!"
"Where to?"
"To visit my slaves. You'll enjoy it."
* * *
"Well, what do you think?" Orel said contentedly.
A female slave, kneeling, started taking off Nikto's boots gently. He allowed her to do it and took off his jacket.
"Magnificent," Nikto said leaning against expensive pillows in relaxation.
Slaves were dancing in smooth movements. They all were very beautiful, young and slim, with long thick hair and decorated in jewelry from head to toes.
They danced and smiled happily because they knew their master was reveling in them, was proud of them. They felt confident of their beauty that was impossible not to admire.
"Choose any girl," Orel said. "I'll give her to you."
Nikto looked at him and smiled.
"Cool! I was right telling you then that you could pay the Unclean by giving them a few human females."
He reached for his jacket, took out a cigarette and lit it, then looked at Orel again.
"Hey! You aren't going to start throwing glasses again, are you?"
Orel shook his head as if chasing away the thoughts that flooded him.
"Are you going to choose a woman?" he asked quietly and ominously.
"Yes, why not."
"Then choose!"
Nikto looked at the dancing girls.
"Tell them stop dancing and come closer. I like them all but I want to choose the most beautiful – for you not to think that I have no idea about female beauty."
Orel laughed.
"I never thought that, it was Lis picking on you. And you're memorizing every word."
"I'm not trying to, it just happens."
"Really? But you said you didn't care what people said about you." Orel looked at Nikto slyly. Nikto shook off ash from his cigarette and looked up at Orel.
"Everyone cares what others say about him," he said seriously. "I said I didn't care what Las said but I didn't say I didn't care about anyone."
"Las?"
"Morgan Talas, remember?"
"Yes, sure. Of course, I remember him but you're calling him like that, do you know him closely? Lamy was your friend, he is her friend, so, you and him were friends, too?"
"Friends? I don't know, now it doesn't matter, after Lamy's death everything changed, now I'm his enemy."
"Will you forgive me?" Orel asked.
"Don't say that, I have nothing to forgive you." Nikto raised his glass. "Let's have a drink?"
"Yes, let's commemorate your friend. I still feel bad that we set you up in the eyes of that Talas: he thinks you got her into a trap. Maybe we can explain him in some way that you're not to blame for her death."
"Orel, I think you were going to kill him. And now you want to explain him something."
"I just want to restore justice."
"Forget about it," Nikto laughed. "It doesn't suit you."
"Aah, you think I can't do anything good, don't you?"
"Orel, I see you enjoy chatting but you promised me a slave."
"Yes," Orel clapped his palms making the girls stop. The one who was playing a musical instrument also put it down and joined the others. "Come here."
The girls hurried up to him.
"Closer," Orel patted the fur and the girls knelt on it. They froze still, looking down shyly, but inside every one of them was trembling in hope that her master and his guest would choose her over the others.
"I like this one," Nikto said taking one of the slaves by her long black braid. Orel laughed.
"Hey, why are laughing?" Nikto smiled, he tried to pull the girl closer by her braid – she didn't move. "Tell her she may, I'm choosing her!"
Orel waved at the slave. "Obey this master, clear?"
The slave nodded without raising her eyes, then moved closer to Nikto submissively.
"I laughed," Orel said, "because she isn't the most beautiful and you promised to choose the most beautiful one."
"Really? She seemed the most beautiful to me."
They both laughed.
"The most beautiful girl here is Mina," Orel pointed at a blonde girl who quickly looked up at him with her eyes full of love and gratitude. Nikto looked at her with interest. Orel made a sign for her to come closer. She clung to him happily.
"Look what wonderful hair she has," Orel patted the girl's beautiful golden locks.
"No-o-o," Nikto drawled. "Mine is like that, I'm tired of it."
Orel looked at him in surprise, then laughed.
"Yes, you don't think blonde hair is something special but I do," he looked at the girl in admiration. "It's such a rare thing."
"Then keep her," Nikto said; his black-haired partner grew bolder and was clinging to him now.
"Fine, everyone but Mina and that one with braids, you can go."
The slaves backed away in disappointment.
"What, don't you even know her name?"
"Ah, shit, I forgot."
"But you remember the name of your blonde."
"Nikto, stop picking on me. Do you care what her name is? You can call her whatever you want, she's yours now."
Nikto glanced at Orel but didn't say anything, wrapped his arm around the girl.
"Look at me. Do whatever you want," he said to her.
"Thank you, master," she whispered.
"She likes you," Orel noticed.
"Yes," Nikto practically put her onto himself.
She reached to his face, kissed him somewhat cautiously, pulled on his lower lip, laughed. Then she grew more daring, passed the tip of her tongue over two silver rings in Nikto's lower lip. She laughed again.
Nikto pulled her closer, gently touched her eyes with his lips. She closed her eyes, leaning against him in a kiss.
Orel watched them kissing and smiled, his favorite Mina lay in his embrace, forgotten.
For Nikto and his slave everything in the world seemed to stop existing. She pulled up his shirt gently, urging him to take it off; he obeyed, parting their mouths for a moment. Moaning, she pressed harder to his strong chest covered in tattoos, stroking it with her palms. Nikto looked at the girl, admiring her, holding her braid in one hand, then let her go and pushed on her shoulders directing her downward.
She gave in readily, moved down kissing his stomach. She deftly untied the lacing on his crotch with her teeth and, trembling with excitement, helping with her hands, pushed down the black leather of Nikto's pants.
Nikto rose slightly aiding her.
Orel who was staring at them swallowed hard, and Mina who seemed to co-experience everything her friend was doing, grabbed Orel's hand and put his finger into her mouth.
Nikto leaned forward, making a sound like 'aaah'; the slave started sucking his cock and then stroked herself between her thighs wildly.
Mina moaned, sticking her teeth into Orel's finger. Orel flinched and took his finger away.
"Shit," he said wiping his finger against the cover.
Mina licked her lips and rubbed herself on the furs. Orel grabbed his head.
"Kill her," he said hoarsely. "Nikto, I order you, kill her now!"
Nikto didn't answer; a shiver ran over his body, he strained hissing, coming. The slave moaned loudly, starting back from him, then fell limply on her face on the covers.
Orel couldn't say a word.
Nikto raised and started dressing.
"Where are you going to?" Orel asked shakily.
"Orel, I'm going to my room, to sleep." Nikto didn't even look at him. "I'm tired, I want to sleep. You're going to wake me up early again tomorrow, aren't you?"
He didn't let Orel object and left the room quickly.
"Shi-i-it!" Orel yelled angrily, he was ready to smash something in rage. Mina recoiled from him in fear.
"I'm an idiot!" Orel moaned. "A fool, a total idiot!" He clenched his fists. "Nikto isn't obeying me! He doesn't respect me! He promised to obey my orders but he really doesn't care! Lis was right, damn that Lis!" Orel hit the cover with his fist. "What should I do? What should I do?" he said looking around with an unseeing stare.
"I'll kill him! I'll kill him!" he screamed, nearly crying, pushed away the tray with drinks and food. The tray fell on the floor with a clash. Mina shrieked. Orel glared at her.
"What are you doing here? Get out!" he growled at her, lifting his hand for a blow. She curled in a ball, not trying to shield herself.
Then Orel noticed the other slave lying on the furs. He lowered his hand, his attention changing its focus.
"Why are you still here? Having come too hard? Get up! I hate you so much!" he hissed pushing her with his foot.
The slave didn't move.
Orel froze.
"Hey you, black-braided," he called.
The girl still lay with her face buried in the furs. Orel came closer warily.
"Hey, what's your name, wake up," he called softly. Then he took her by the shoulder and turned over sharply. The black-braided slave looked at him with glassy lifeless eyes; white fluid was leaking out of her mouth.
"No," Orel whispered. "No, no, no! It can't be!"
He grabbed her and shook her with all his strength.
"Wake up! Wake up, you idiot!"
Blood gushed from the slave's nose and mouth. Mina screamed. Orel pushed the slave away in horror – she was dead.
And even though Mina was screaming non-stop, Orel didn't say anything, he seemed not to notice her shrieks at all. He was sitting over the dead slave and watched blood leaking from her mouth onto the furs.
"It can't be," he said to no one. "It isn't possible. How could he have done it?"
He raised his handsome face.
"Gods! How did he do it? How?" He lowered his head and covered his face with his hands. "How did he do it?" he asked again and again, mechanically.
Mina stopped screaming, clenched her hands and started praying.
Chapter 11
Morning with Lis
"Master Lis is here," a servant said bowing politely.
"Let him in," Orel said indifferently.
He was sitting alone in the main hall, at the head of the table, and drinking strong coffee. Outside the windows a stormy night was replaced by a bright sunny day, and rays of the sun shone brilliantly sparkling on the multicolored glass of the stained-glass windows. Red, blue and orange specks loped over the walls, table and Orel's face but he didn't care. He seemed gloomy and brooding. Lis entered the hall.
"Good morning, prince," he said merrily but then frowned looking at Orel. "Is everything all right?" he asked worriedly coming up to the table.
Orel gave him a tired glance.
"Yes, of course. I didn't expect you so early. Sit down."
"I was concerned about you," Lis said sitting in his place. "And I was right, it seems."
Orel smirked.
"No, you weren't."
"Really? I wouldn't say so, looking at you." Lis poured some coffee. "But at least you're safe and sound, I'm glad."
"Li-i-is," Orel drawled smiling. "Why didn't you bring an army to save me, why did you come alone to fight the devil?" He laughed mirthlessly.
Lis looked at him anxiously.
"Orel, you're in shambles lately," he said. "I'm worried."
Orel squinted his eyes gazing at him carefully.
"Dear mother, have you come to visit me? You have changed, dear mom, devils must've frayed you hard in hell, I barely can recognize you," he laughed. "But don't worry, old woman, your son is okay, you can go back to hell peacefully."
"Enough!" Lis shouted. "Enough," he added more evenly.
"Yes, you're right," Orel said tiredly.
"Where is Nikto?"
"In his room, sleeping, likely."
"What happened between you yesterday?"
"Nothing. Not a thing."
"Orel, remember, you promised to tell me everything, maybe, I can help you, all of us!"
Orel looked at him; Lis lowered his eyes unable to stand his gaze.
"Will you tell me what happened?"
"Nothing happened, just something changed in me, that's all."
"Have you been frightened?"
"Yes, I was frightened, of myself, of what I was doing. But it passed, everything's all right, Nikto is a great guy, he's obeying me."
"So, you've tested him, haven't you?"
"Of course! I never give up on my plans."
"Did he kill her? Did he kill a slave without questioning, at once? What did he do: strangled her, stabbed her? I see you were impressed. Was he particularly cruel, tortured her, made her scream?"
"No," Orel said, "she didn't scream. He didn't kill her at all."
"What?! I can't believe you!"
"Trust me, to say that he killed her would be a lie, he didn't touch her."
"Orel, you're confusing me, did he kill her or not?"
"No. I don't know. I don't know."
"How can you not know? Is she alive?"
"No, she is dead," Orel said slowly.
"Then he killed her?"
"I don't know. He probably did… or maybe not."
"Wait, wait, don't start all over again," Lis interrupted him. "You're going to tell me everything in detail now, from the beginning to the end."
"No, no," Orel moaned, "I can't, I don't feel like recalling the last night at all. Lis, don't torment me, everything's all right, everyone is safe and sound, nothing happened, believe me."
Lis shook his head.
"I don't believe you. Not everyone is safe and sound: a girl is dead, and I want to know what happened," he said firmly. "You promised, tell me."
"All right, what do you want to know, I'll tell you, maybe, I'll feel better then."
"That's a good decision," Lis said with joy. "So, Nikto came to the castle and…"
Orel flinched.
"Yes, he came," he said distantly as if thinking of something personal. "By the way, Lis," he suddenly got animated, "do you remember, when you left, did I lock the door?"
"Yes," Lis said, "you always do that. Why?"
"Nah, it's nothing."
"Orel, what happened?"
"Nothing. So, Nikto came, I took him to the leisure hall," Orel avoided answering. "The slaves started dancing, he chose one of them."
"Wait, not so fast. What did he say when you offered him that?"
"Ooh, Lis, it's such a small thing! He said something like 'cool!' He was calm about it."
"Which one did he choose?"
"I don't know her name – don't remember. She wasn't the best even though he said he was going to choose the most beautiful," Orel smirked. "You got on his nerves with your words that he wasn't knowledgeable about women. He said: 'I'll choose the most beautiful one for you not to think that I don't know anything about women,' yes, that's exactly what he said. But the most beautiful there was Mina."
"Gods! You offered him Mina!"
"Yes."
"But you love Mina! What if he'd chosen her?"
"I even wanted him to choose her," Orel said calmly.
"Orel, you cannot do that to Mina!"
"I can," Orel shrugged. "She is my slave, nothing else."
"But you love her!" Lis almost screamed. "I know you love her, you never give her to anyone!"
"Yes," Orel said, "I started getting attached to her and I don't like that. I wanted to test myself if I had enough strength to doom her to death."
Lis was silent.
"Why don't you say anything?! Tell me what a bastard I am!" Orel shouted.
"And if he'd chosen her," Lis said at last, "would you have been able to complete it? Would you have told him to kill Mina?"
"Yes," Orel said, "I was prepared. I wanted to find out what I'd feel when seeing them together, what I'd feel when he was killing her. Now I understand I was too self-confident, I was prepared only to what I imagined. He chooses Mina, I give her to him, let him do whatever he wants to her…" Orel laughed joylessly. "I was an idiot!"
He looked at Lis who was listening carefully.
"And then," Orel continued, "when he's totally losing his mind because of her, when he's trembling with eagerness and desire, when he wants her most of all in the world, a tough guy Orel comes forward and says: 'I order you, kill her'."
He shook his head.
"It's so simple, he doesn't dare disobey, he is afraid of appearing weak, he is a son of the Devil, isn't he – he must know how to kill. She begs to spare her, looks at me with pleading eyes, I'm her only hope. But I've already given the order, now I want only one thing: to enjoy the sight of her death, her agony." He got silent, immersed in his thoughts. "It was nothing like that. Nothing like I imagined. And now I'm glad he chose another one, I wouldn't want Mina to die like that. I was a fool when offering her to Nikto, now I know that. I even feel sorry for that black-braided girl."
"Black-braided?" Lis repeated.
"The one he chose – she had two braids, black ones, down to the floor. I forgot her name, that's why I call her black-braided."
"Shela," Lis said.
"What?"
"Her name was Shela, she is the only one who had her hair like this, she always braided it to keep it in order."
"You know her. Did you like her?" Orel asked in surprise.
"Yes. You never paid much attention to her, preoccupied with your Mina. But she was really a nice girl. When you gave us permission to take you slaves, we always chose that Shela, we had a lot of fun with her."
"You were always having fun with her?"
"Oh well, I was choosing her often for myself, she is good at blow-jobs."
"She was," Orel corrected him. "By the way, it was exactly the last thing she was doing before she died."
"Poor Shela, I will be missing her."
"You know," Orel said, "everything happened so fast. He chose her and they started kissing each other at once, that Shella seemed to be out of her mind. I was with Mina, we couldn't stop staring at them. Mina really went wild with arousal. Me too, actually, I felt hot all over," he laughed, "there was something emanating from him, you couldn't just stay calm. He didn't even strip her, didn't even touch her breasts, he just held her braids, and that was great!"
Orel smiled remembering.
"That Shella wasn't afraid of him at all, rubbed herself against him like a cat, nearly fainted under his gaze, and when he pushed her down, she gave such a performance! If you could only see how she caressed him! How she sucked! It was something. I really underappreciated her. She sucked his dick and rubbed her hand between her thighs, her moans were driving me mad. And his dick! I wouldn't mind having it in my mouth, with all its tattoos…"
"Shut up!" Lis yelled. "Enough, enough! Spare me those details or I'm gonna be sick! I don't want to listen to anything like that, stop it or I'll leave."
"All right, all right, I stop," Orel said grinning.
Lis sighed in annoyance.
"You're so difficult," he said.
"Should I tell more?"
"Yes, but please, without including your sexual fantasies."
"You don't like what I said about his dick, about wanting to suck him off, do you?" Orel laughed.
"Enough, Arel, you've got on my nerves," Lis got up.
Orel put the heft of the spoon into his mouth and started moving it up and down, looking at Lis askance. "Aaah, aaah, feels so good!"
Lis laughed, unable to stand this stupid view.
"You're such a fool," he said to Orel and sat down again.
"Yes, I know," Orel said. "Anyway, I was so carried away then – almost as I am now – and I said 'Kill her' too late. They seemed not to hear me at all. He was trembling, moaned or hissed in some strange way, she also was coming, squeezed her hand…"
"Orel, what did you promise me?"
"Well, they came, then she lay down on the cover and he got up, dressed very quickly and said something like: "I'm going to sleep.' And left without giving me any time to come round."
"Wait, you said that Shela…"
"Yes, listen and don't interrupt me! He left and I started cursing myself because nothing happened as I wanted to. She kept lying there, I yelled at her – she didn't even move. Then I grabbed her, turned her over – her eyes were empty and his c… blood was leaking from her nose and mouth. Her whole face was bloody. I felt so bad, Lis, I was shaking her but she didn't care, she was dead and I don't know why."
Lis looked at him in surprise.
"Don't you believe me?" Orel said. "Then go and look by yourself, she is still there. I was sitting there and looking at her for the whole night and thinking how he could have killed her. Gods know I haven't understood that. But I understood something else. If he killed her, easily like that, without any effort… if he really killed her, Lis, then I don't know why you're still alive."
"No," Lis said, "I don't want to believe that. If I believe that, I'll lose my mind: to live and know that he can take your life any moment! No-o, I won't believe that. And you shouldn't. The girl died by herself, had a heart attack or something, whatever."
"It's easier for you," Orel said, "because you were not there."
"Arel, I beg you, forget that night! Nothing happened, he didn't even hear you, he doesn't know she's dead. He left and something burst inside her with overexcitation, that's all. It happens. And Nikto has nothing to do with it. Let's not become hostages of our fear, we should treat him as before."
"He is a warlock, I'm sure now – you don't need to tell me any more that I got fucked up, now I know that!"
"No, no, forget what I said!" Lis hastened.
"Well, I cannot understand you at all. At first you say one thing, now just the opposite. There was no reason to doubt him before but you were going to blame him for any small thing. Now when we have the reason, you say 'Forget everything I told you'. Lis, don't you think it's too much?"
"I understood that we shouldn't be afraid of him," Lis said. "Even if he is as powerful as you think – and I doubt that – but even then… If he is so strong, he could've killed us a thousand times. But he hasn't done that – so, he has something in store for us, we're his friends. Mark said Nikto needed friends among humans. We need him and he needs us, nothing else."
"I'm not sure," Orel said.
"Tol turned out to be the smartest one of us: he was never afraid of Nikto, never treated him with suspicion. And Nikto pays him in kind. He took him along to the Lower City and Tol was happy about that trip, he'll tell you about it. Mark was right saying that Nikto treats people the way they treat him. It depends on us whether he'll be our friend or foe."
"Do you mean everything you said before is nonsense?"
"I don't renounce my previous words. But I looked at it from a wrong point of view."
"But he killed your Shella," Orel said slyly. "He didn't touch my Mina but he chose your girl."
"Don't provoke me, Arel, I got it, it won't happen again. Her death opened my eyes."
"Ooh, you surprise me! I bet he'll do something else and you'll change your mind again."
"I don't swear it won't happen but I'm not going to pick on him again. He is a part of us, it's stupid to fight – we should cooperate."
"I want that," Orel said, "but you don't."
"I'll try hard to want, and I'll be watching him."
"Wow, I like that!"
"Yes, that's it."
"They gave you your name for a reason: it fits you, you always manage to slip out. You change like a wind, blow this way or that, one can't catch you."
"I don't think it's humiliating to amend according to the situation. What else can I do? If I couldn't do that, I'd be long hanged by the Red by now. I should've listened better what you told me of Mark and Nikto's relations from the very beginning. And the Unclean, too – they don't fight him, even though he brought a lot of evil to them."
"They hurt him too," Orel said.
"Yes, but you see, he doesn't fight them any more."
"He doesn't touch those who doesn't touch him, right?"
"I think so."
"I wonder why."
"I don't know, I've figured out just that."
"Fine, I got that, even though I don't care much. I love Nikto and cannot become his enemy, no matter how I'd try."
"So, you have nothing to fear. As long as you love him, you're safe. Relatively safe, at least – you can never be completely sure. But it is not so dangerous as it seemed to us at first."
