Sitting in the gig driven by the silent Batmore, I gazed at the noble Eshsheri leisurely strolling in the autumn park with their smart daughters and husbands. At the carriages rushing past. On thoroughbred, well-trained horses with equally thoroughbred riders. To tastefully decorated shop windows. For fountains that don’t freeze even in winter. She looked and smiled involuntarily, sincerely enjoying every moment.
Eh! Still, there are advantages in the life of a magician! Did I think, running around the castle courtyard with the boys, that this would happen to me? That one day I will be able to travel alone without parental supervision?
As we moved away from the center, the houses became darker in appearance. Their narrow dark windows did not please with bright light and pretty curtains, but frightened with bars and iron shutters – the industrial quarter had begun. Buildings of factories and factories stretched out, where magic and craft were intertwined, producing metal products known throughout Balaria: from rune swords to cart wheel rims. From magical jewelry forging to ordinary scythes and sickles. Only at the boarding school did I learn what an important place my native land occupies in the world. How many inventors and scientists are born, and how rich in metals and jewels its depths are, the guardians of which from time immemorial were the ruling families of onyx dragons.
Having passed industrial areas, we found ourselves in residential ones. There were also shops and shops here, but with simpler display windows. Dim lights were burning in the windows, and the shadows of residents preparing dinner flickered. A rollicking melody came from some tavern, and the bright magic lanterns had long since been replaced by dim lanterns that gave off a deathly green color. Because of him, the faces of people rushing from work seemed especially sallow, and a staggering drunkard could easily be mistaken for a zombie.
And in some alleys there was no lighting at all. A noisy group tumbled out of one of these straight onto the roadway, frightening our horse. The driver had to use an air wave to gently push the revelers to the side of the road. Drunken swearing followed, but the phlegmatic Bathmore silently whipped the reins, urging the brown filly on.
My father and I passed these places in the morning, and then they did not look so dangerous. Feeling uncomfortable, I hid deeper into the phaeton and, just in case, grabbed the handle of the bag, regretting that I was not traveling in a carriage, but in an open carriage. There was only a short distance to the station—three or four blocks—when I felt a magical tension in the atmosphere. The hairs on my arms stood up and a specific chill ran down my back. Wary, I turned my head, looking around the street with an unfocused gaze. I was still incapable of doing more, but this simple technique allowed me to see exactly where magic was used.
– Stop! Stop! – I shouted to the driver, but Bathmore was already pulling on the reins.
He managed a moment before a man was thrown out of a nearby alley by the horse's feet, mercilessly slamming onto the pavement.
The air wave at the end reflected from the wall of the building opposite, scattering dust, small debris and dry leaves on the sides. Screaming in fear, I stared wide-eyed at the body that Batmore was trying to avoid. But the filly neighed and fought, not wanting to go further. Meanwhile, the tension of magic intensified. Ahead of us, drifting snow ran from building to building, swirling in the uncertain light of the streetlights like thick steam. Along the line she drew, a real palisade of thick icicles grew. Do not go around or jump over!
Following the driver's quick glance back, I realized that the same fence blocked our way back.
– What’s going on today! – Batmore could not stand it and tried to take it to the left so as not to run over the victim with his wheel.
And I suddenly wondered if I had ever heard his voice before?
“Batmore, is this man… dead?” – she asked quietly, unable to take her eyes off the person lying on the road.
“If he’s a magician, he’ll survive,” the driver tried to reassure me, but he didn’t do a very good job.
– We must help!
I stood up, intending to jump out, but I was stopped by a sudden shout, like the crack of a whip:
– Sit, eshsheri! We don't want any trouble, and the guards will deal with the tramp.
Bathmore pulled on the reins, causing the filly to back up a little. Just a few steps. The gig turned out to be opposite the alley on the other side of the street, but even a fleeting glance made it clear that it was impossible to get through there. The passage was cluttered with some rubbish. So we managed to fall into a trap! If we had driven a little faster, we would have managed to get past…
At the end of the street, from behind the squat houses, the dark silhouette of a gas tank was clearly visible. The large round building in which PR was accumulated, and from there it was used to heat houses and illuminate streets, impressed me even on the day of my arrival. It was located right next to the station. Maybe run to it on foot and ask for help there?
I pulled the bag closer. I can, I can run. Maybe…
But while she was deciding to get out of the gig, which was creating a false impression of security, a group of men appeared from a nearby alley. They were in no hurry, they walked imposingly, laughing and talking. There was no doubt that everything that was happening was their doing.
There were six men, and all were definitely magicians. Not paying much attention to us, they imposingly surrounded the unfortunate man, who lay motionless on the pavement. One of the magicians lit a firefly, illuminating a small space above their heads, and I was surprised to realize that they were all young guys, hardly much older than me.
“Mikael, it seems you’ve gone too far,” stated one, blond and rosy-cheeked, the spitting image of “mom’s little pie,” reproachfully.
– I do not like it! Let's get out of here! – whined another, short and the frailest of all.
I agreed with him, and I myself would gladly follow this advice.
– Splinter, you always don’t like something! Better shut up! – a tall and dark-haired magician, who was named Mikael, barked at him. He poked the victim with the toe of his boot. – Hey, stop being a fool! Get up and start apologizing! I'm waiting!
The man on the pavement moved, and I mentally exhaled. Still not dead!
The scoundrels, and these scumbags could not be called otherwise, began to chatter animatedly in anticipation of entertainment. I couldn’t resist and grabbed the driver’s elbow:
– Bathmore, do something, eh!
– No, eshsheri! My life is dear to me, and these murderers… Ahem! “He glanced sideways at me and corrected himself. – These people are the offspring of noble families in the capital. It's better for us not to shine at all. Maybe they won't pay attention to us.
This was the longest tirade I heard today from the driver of the Teresa the Magnanimous boarding house.
– But that’s not possible! “I objected hesitantly, not taking my eyes off the people on the road.
The bully Mikael bent down and grabbed the victim by the hair, thick dark with contrasting light strands. Their owner suddenly jumped up quickly, simultaneously squeezing the bully's throat and lifting him up at arm's length. So much so that your feet left the ground!
I even stood up in my seat, surprised by such agility and strength.
“Do you want me to apologize to you, morel?” Me, the daughter of Jarl Hedwin from the Coast of Sharp Blades?!
The voice was low, but definitely female!
The stranger stood in profile towards me, and despite the male attire, the features of the female figure stood out clearly from the front. Such decent features, I must say! It's a girl! There could be no mistake. Tall and strong, slightly taller than the bully whose legs dangled helplessly above the ground, she held Mikael by the throat with apparent ease. The guy convulsively clung to her hand and wheezed, trying to free himself.
Judging by what I managed to hear, this strong woman was a northerner and compatriot of Audbjorn Strike, one of the brothers-in-law of my half-sister’s husband. I don’t know why Earl Hedwin’s daughter annoyed these guys so much, but what they did went beyond what was permitted.
– Bathmore! Bathmore! We must help her out! – I became worried, not imagining what I could do against six magicians.
– Eshsheri, calm down, I beg you! – hissed the driver, not wanting to interfere in the squabbles of the rich youth.
Meanwhile, the hooligans, taken aback by such agility of their recent victim, regained their composure.
– Let go of Mikael! – the one called Splinter squealed.
And the most powerful and broad-shouldered of them all suddenly growled and rushed into the fight. I screamed in surprise, believing that he would now trample the northern woman, who was still more fragile than this closet with mezzanines. But the stranger was faster. Throwing the Tuffnut away so that he crashed backwards onto the pavement, she twisted and met the Brute with a direct kick to the head. He, as if hit by a battering ram, silently fell on his back, and three of them attacked the northern woman at once. Subtle Splinter did not participate in the fight, he only caused a fuss by shouting:
– Blood! You're bleeding! – he yelled, staring at the stunned big man.
He was already getting up, pressing his hands to his broken face and looking unkindly towards the fighters.
– Shut up! “He slapped the screamer on the back of the head, and he choked on his next tirade.
Before I decided to do anything, the northern woman scattered the trio, but it wasn’t easy for her. She was breathing heavily and taking care of her left side, and the Big Man, crimson with rage, was already approaching her. The others also pulled themselves up, wincing and rubbing their bruised areas. It would seem that it was time to escape while there was still at least some chance, but the northern woman did not even think about making a move.
– Where is my backpack, pregnant penguins! – she went on the offensive.
The girl was confident in herself and did not seem to be at all afraid of this pack!
The bully made a sign, stopping his henchmen, and asked arrogantly:
