A Guard Seven Times Removed

“Tsk-tsk! May I?” In a voice gurgling so with syrup, Tukhlomon asked, pushing his soft head into Ares’ office.

“Try, but generally the days for agents are Monday and Friday!” Ares said dryly.

“Ah, father, I have seven Fridays in a week! I’m so all... so all...” And, not finding the words, Tukhlomon only deftly expressed with one convulsive movement of his shoulders what he all was.

Having slipped into the office after all, the agent began to run around it, throwing up his hands and babbling. Despite that, he was ill at ease. Tukhlomon’s face did not stay still for a second. It bent, it shuddered, the eyebrows jumped, the nose sniffed — all the time like a plasticine rat. For the time being Daphne did not drop in. Evidently, the careful agent, thinking that Ares knew nothing so far and must prepare him, ordered her to remain in reception by Julitta’s desk.

Methodius stared dourly at Tukhlomon. After that incident with the eidos, which Tukhlomon nearly took from him, now he could not stand the agent.

On the other hand, Tukhlomon demonstrated to Methodius his utmost liking for him. After deftly running up, he kissed him on a shoulder, and when Methodius pushed him away, still contrived in passing to catch and kiss his hand.

“Ah, young sir, right! You don’t like me — bear me a huge grudge!” Tukhlomon reproachfully said. “How do the wise men in our Hades say? Someone will mention the old — that... he-he... eidos there. If it upset you then, it’s solely a misunderstanding. I see a good person sitting there — let’s, I think, take charge of his eidos before someone else beats me to it! If you want — you can twist my nose or break my cheek with a fist... With no restraint. It’s only for my benefit.”

Giving Methodius full opportunity to take a swipe at his face, Tukhlomon, leaning forward, puffed up his cheek and closed his eyes.

“I better use the sword!” Methodius said, not having any special desire to beat down on his sticky cheeks.

Tukhlomon opened his eyes in a hurry. After noticing Ares’ table chopped up, he blinked in amazement and with uneasiness stared at the case of the sword, which was delivered from the Chancellery to Methodius.

“Aha, he’s frightened! He understood what this is!” Methodius was triumphant, but the agent had already hastily minced towards Ares, after thrusting a moist hand into a rear pocket.

“I have a little trophy for you, chief! An expression of my gratitude for the wise management and other lofty vices! You’re truly like my own father, benefactor! A century for me not to see eide if I lied on a kopeck!” Tukhlomon was so deeply moved that he even shed a tear and loudly blew his nose into a red hanky suddenly appearing in his hands.

“Fine muttering!” Ares said.

Tukhlomon took his hand out from behind his back.

“Here. Right from the heart. You’re our eagle, and these are your wings-s!” He said.

Something sparkled in his hand. Methodius saw that the agent was holding a chain in his hands. On Ares’ face appeared something predatory. Not accepting Tukhlomon’s gift for the time being, he narrowly looked it over.

“The regiment of golden-wings?” Ares asked.

“Removed it with my own hands-s! Defeated in honest battle-s! They asked-s for mercy-s, but I was not persuaded-s and fierce-s!” Tukhlomon bragged.

Ares glanced at him with doubt and accepted the wings. Methodius mechanically noticed that he, just like Tukhlomon, was holding the wings strictly by the chain, without touching them as if they were something foreign and dangerous. “They are strange, these guards. Do not take someone’s darx, or wings...” Methodius thought. He himself felt that he could take the gold wings without any fear. So far, he could, while his eidos was whole and he had not quite become a guard of Gloom...

“The girl did this, isn’t it so?” Ares said. This was even not a question but an assertion.

“Well, on the whole, yes. Only I removed-s them-s!” Tukhlomon said with offence.

“How many of them?”

“The guards of Light? Two.”

“So, ingratiated yourself using the second set of wings? With whom? Not our hunchback in charge, perhaps?” Ares asked with contempt.

Having overheard this flattering characteristic, Ligul the hunchback looked out momentarily from the broken portrait, dropped a quick glance with attentive evil eyes, and disappeared.

“Ah, chief... I have such weak health. Legs hurt, the hands, they fall off. No one loves poor sick Tukhlomon. Only poor sick Tukhlomon alone loves everybody!” Justifying himself, Tukhlomon said and again tried to shed a tear.

“Fix the leak and get out!” Methodius advised him.

The agent changed his mind about crying and in a hurry seized his own stomach.

“Ah, young person! Must not joke this way with old people! Old people believe in everything and cry over everything. And I get a hernia now and then-s. Once I was nearly lost,” he said sadly.

Ares looked sideways at the door to reception.

“Two golden-wings against one girl-guard... Not bad! So good it’s hard to believe. I would even say that everything is cooked up if the wings weren’t real. It’s difficult to believe that Light would decide to give us this gift... But you are guilty all the same, Tukhlomon. You showed the girl-guard our secret residence. You brought her here!”

“She glued herself to me! She forced me... Maybe, we’ll chop off her head? Snip — and that’s all. No head — no question!” Tukhlomon started to whine.

“I have a counteroffer. Better we cut off your tongue!” Methodius proposed. He in no way could manage his hatred for Tukhlomon.

“Phew, what wretched fantasy! I laugh and cry from the banality! Cut off my tongue! You think you’re the first to come to that conclusion?” The agent giggled.

“What?”

“Nothing... A new one would grow, even more venomous than the previous. And generally, don’t be rude to me, young man! I’m turning white because of you!” Tukhlomon stated.

He jumped on the spot, and then suddenly proposed in a conspiratorial whisper:

“If you want, I’ll go out and call the girl and stick a dagger into her side? I have an outstanding dagger — simply a sweetie and not a dagger. The girl would experience continuous pleasure! Huh? I promised to bring her here, but now to guide her out... he-he... there was no such oath.”

After glancing at Tukhlomon’s face, sincere in his own meanness, Methodius experienced a blind anger, and then suddenly realized that the case was open wide and the sword of The Ancient One was in his hands. At the same time he knew exactly that he had not reached for it, but simply very clearly imagined how to do this. Did Ares not use this method, instantly materializing his bent blade in his hand?

Tukhlomon squealed like a hare, and rushed to hide behind Ares’ back. Methodius caught the energy of his fear, mechanically wanted to draw it in, but immediately rejected it. The agent’s energy had a disgusting, musty taste, as if through all the centuries he lived on carrion alone.

Hiding behind Ares’ back, the agent instantly regained his spirit and even grew bolder.

“A mad man!” He squeaked. “He thinks he frightened me! But I simply get mixed up with unwillingness! You will think: a girl! And I’m with the best motives! The most sensitive humanism-s!”

Ares looked at Methodius. This look was long and very hard. Methodius suddenly understood that the true owner of the girl’s fate was not Tukhlomon. But him, Ares, his chief. And precisely at this minute he had decided her fate. And that all the words and admonitions were useless here.

“If necessary, I’ll do battle for her! Although I also know that this is death for me...” Methodius thought, after squeezing the handle of the sword.

A minute, two... Silence was hanging heavily in the office, like the blade of the guillotine. Ares passed his hand over his face, as if removing a cobweb.

“Relax, Signor Tomato! And you, Tukhlomon, stop! Let the girl enter!” He ordered tonelessly.

Tukhlomon, looking at Methodius with alarm, slipped into the corridor and immediately returned, obligingly letting a light-haired girl pass in front.

“Don’t stumble! Here’s the threshold-s! Please guard your imprudence from further sin-s! It’s not blowing from the window, no? Otherwise I’ll shut it-s!” He babbled.

Daphne entered and stopped in the middle of the office. She held herself sufficiently calmly, but Methodius felt nevertheless that she was excited. Her aura — golden with a narrow pink rim — shimmered, first turning pale, then flaring up. A bald, very terrible cat was sitting on her shoulder and licking... a wing.

Daph, until now looking only at Ares, sensed that besides him there was still someone else in the office, and turned to Methodius. Their eyes met and Buslaev experienced a strange wrenching feeling. As if he entered Daph’s pupils and lost his way there. He even would not know how to describe clearly, what this feeling was. Sympathy? Curiosity? Love? When a splinter pierces the foot, everything is immediately understood. But here when the splinter of a new feeling falls into the heart... Just try to take out that, which is impossible to grasp with fingers.

Tukhlomon, wriggling, jumped out from behind. Methodius again wanted to kick him.

“Leave!” Ares ordered Tukhlomon.

“With the greatest pleasure-s! I was just about to take leave of the matter-s!” The agent assured him and, after taking a step to the door, melted away, leaving a cloud of stink in the air.

Methodius saw that Tukhlomon was extremely satisfied. Must be, for his misdeed — leading a guard of Light into the residence of Gloom — he expected serious punishment, and was glad that he got off cheaply.

Ares sank heavily down into the armchair.

“Well, speak!” He ordered tiredly.

“What to say?” Daphne asked.

“You were dying to be here, and now you’re here — in the residence of Gloom... What’s next? Who are you exactly?”

“I’m Daphne, assistant to junior guard.”

“They really let assistants to junior guard out of Eden? The moronoid world is not the most suitable place for a little one with downy hair, who someone considers ‘aw-fully’ likable...” Ares said with a sneer.

Methodius wanted to drop the fixture onto his head. Unfortunately, it had already been dropped. To bring down the ceiling for the same purpose, he did not have sufficient magic technology for the time being.

“Who considers me likable?” Daph was interested. Certainly, she was not a complete fool and knew the correct answer, but it is better to hear once than to assume two hundred times.

“Yes, there’s a versatile individual here, having learned to look through walls recently... So, what indeed forced a girl-guard to run off to the moronoids? I don’t like this deviation from the rules... I lean more and more to the thought that a good guard of Light is a dead guard of Light.”

Ares was talking as if with irony, but Methodius did not like his irony. With his new sight, linking up with foresight, he almost saw how Ares’ bent blade, appearing from anywhere, chopped Daph at an angle. True, he saw this somewhat vaguely, dimly. This could indicate only one thing. Ares’ decision had not yet taken shape.

“Please stop thinking about this! Pease!” Methodius heard his own agitated voice.

“About what?”

“You know what about!” Methodius shouted.

“And you’re not hopeless, my friend! I would say that I trained you to your own misfortune,” smiled Ares. “So, why must I stop thinking about what I’m thinking? Not because she’s pretty?”

“She was running. She stole the horn and ran away from Eden!”

“Where did you get such details, Signor Tomato? Lively youthful fantasy?” Ares was interested.

“No. Vii said it.”

Ares frowned:

“How? Are you acquainted with Venya Vii?”

“Not personally, but I saw his broadcast...”

“Ah, the Putrid Eye! The Book of Chameleons! It seems I asked you to limit yourself to the thirty-first page...” Ares said with annoyance.

Julitta came into the office and sat on the windowsill. She was already without candies, which probably indicated an extreme degree of selflessness and even asceticism. Methodius noticed that Julitta did not like Daphne at all. When did they have time to bicker? Was Daphne not in reception for only a few minutes?

“I hope Vii at least didn’t ask to raise his eyelids? The old goat adores doing this. Must be, someone once told him that he has beautiful eyes,” stated Julitta.

“Julitta, stop the gossip! And what’s this about a stolen horn? The Minotaur?” Ares continued.

Daph nodded.

“Then I understand how you could manage those two golden-wings. Although unclear why the deuce you meddled with them at all? Not for helping Tukhlomon?”

“He’s a very nice and pleasant old man,” shaking her bangs, Daph said.

“Aha. About as nice and pleasant as your cat... An intermediate link of evolution between a small hamster grown bald from radiation and a Nile crocodile!” Julitta said maliciously.

Depressiac only sneered, showing its fangs, arched its back, and started to hiss.

“Oho, but it’s offended!” Julitta was surprised, stretching out a hand to it. “Oo, what a pussy! Come to mama!”

“Careful, it bites. And generally it’s poisonous,” warned Daph.

“Such a strange coincidence! I’m also poisonous and I also bite,” said Julitta, but removed her hand nevertheless.

“Please stop, girls! Shake hands, kiss-kiss,” added Methodius, remembering Eddy Khavron. Now and then, he was surprised how such a dubious character could influence him so strongly.

“Stop? We haven’t even started!” Julitta said; however, she stopped provoking Daph. In any case, for a while.

The Baron of Gloom lazily stretched out his hand with the palm up. Ares’ aura did not change; Methodius noticed no magic effort on his part, only a wide brown parchment suddenly materialized on his palm. Ares unrolled it and glanced along it. Daphne, not without surprise, observed a severed lace dangling from the parchment. Two guarding runes of Light were still discernable on its once authenticating sealing wax. She understood that before her was one of the daily secret information rolls, a limited number of copies sent to all the directorates of the House of Highest Light. Once, Daph saw the same on the table of her chief of senior guard Theocritus.

Strange that such a list could appear at the swordsman’s. Although why not? Ares clearly was not so simple.

“Well now, let’s look at the latest news! What are our Light-winged sparrows twittering there?” The Baron of Gloom glanced at Daph. “Oho, Guard General Troil still hasn’t yet regained consciousness! Light fears for his life. His secretary Berenarii is temporarily assigned as acting guard general... Hm, smart boy... Not a bad opportunity to add also the gold wings of guard general to his bronze wings.”

“No need! He’s very good,” said Daph, recalling the dreamy lanky person with scissors.

“I don’t doubt it. But here’s something in fine print? Oh, they suspect that the box with the teeth and scale of Typhon was placed stealthily for Troil by the fugitive guard Daphne, having broken into the depository of artefacts. They have sent twelve pairs of the best golden-wings to search for you. Not bad! For our dear Ligul they put up not more than ten pairs! However, how they underestimated our hunchback! What outrageous injustice!”

Ligul angrily grunted in the corner and began to creak with the frame.

“Julitta, be so kind, turn the picture to the wall. With the swine snout touching it!” Ares requested.

Julitta with pleasure carried out the request and turned the portrait to the wall. Moreover, she did not simply turn, but even with her entire soul pressed it into the wallpaper. Ligul started to grumble with hatred.

“What, did you actually stealthily place the teeth and scale of Typhon for Troil?” Ares continued, quickly looking inquisitively at Daph.

“I was in the depository, but placed nothing stealthily,” said Daph. She understood that it was not worthwhile to lie. Ares would see through a lie.

“But why did they find your feather in the office?”

“Don’t know. I passed by the office but did not go in.”

“Interesting, very interesting. Either someone very cunningly impersonated you, or... Recall, when you opened the drawer, was there a box yet?” The Baron of Gloom drawled thoughtfully.

“I don’t remember. The drawer was deep, and the horn was lying on the edge. I...I don’t remember, that’s the truth. I was frightened and wanted to get away faster. I also wouldn’t have taken the horn, but without it I couldn’t have left the Garden of Eden unnoticed,” acknowledged Daph.

Ares was silent for a long time.

“Mmm... Pity I cannot just get into your consciousness. After all, you’re not a moronoid. However, I’ll try to believe you. Absurd explanations are now and then the most plausible. How did you break into the depository? Do you really have access to Third Heaven?”

“No, I didn’t. I used Hrunelon’s rune.”

“Amusing rune... Once I was even slightly acquainted with this magician. He wasn’t even scum, for this audience that’s a huge rarity. You’re well aware that the rune has side effects? It can erase consciousness, change memory, and cause unpredictable behaviour?”

“Eh... Well I read about this... Only...”

“Didn’t really believe it?”

“No.”

“Wrong. With contracts and magic books, one should read with special attention precisely what is put down in fine print. And indeed completely attentively what’s not put down but hidden between the lines,” Ares remarked with a smile.

It seemed to Daph as if a cold sticky mouse was running along her back. What if, when she passed by his office, she had really placed the box for Troil? Everything simply contradicts, but it agrees monstrously! Cursed Hrunelon’s rune! Daphne was disgusted. She perceived herself as not simply sordid, but terribly vile. Two golden-wings, now Troil — is she always such an essence that brings danger and grief to all?

Not thinking why she did it, Daphne pulled the flute out of her knapsack. This happened by itself. She wanted suddenly to play something sad. The Baron of Gloom made a subtle movement with his hand. The flute rolled onto the floor.

“What’s with you? What are you thinking of doing?” Ares asked grimly.

“Nothing… I simply wanted to play a little!” Daphne said fearfully.

“Not worth it. Be comforted by some other means,” proposed Ares. “Taking out the flute in the presence of guards of Gloom is as dangerous as playing with a pistol-lighter in the presence of drunk officers of the Special Force. Another time, I could simply take down you head and only then would understand that it wasn’t right. But my pangs of conscience already couldn’t help you. Do you understand?”

“Aha,” nodded Daphne, with a look asking Ares whether she could pick up the flute. The Baron of Gloom, having thought for a bit, nodded. Daphne picked up the flute, ran her hand along the holes, and again hid it in her knapsack.

Ares chewed his lips.

“Time to decide what to do with you. One who has entered the secret residence of Gloom cannot simply leave. He must either become one of us, or... or vanish.” The Baron got up decisively. In his hand materialized the blade already known to Methodius. Daphne turned pale. She understood that the moment had arrived when everything would be decided.

“So? Julitta, what do you think of our guest? Leave her alive or not?” Ares asked.

Julitta looked appraisingly at Daph.

“Not. Couldn’t be better. She’s too pretty. Her figure will always remind me that it’s time to go on a diet.”

“Hm... Well, clear with you. Methodius? Your opinion!”

“If she’s beheaded now — I’ll drop the training,” said Methodius and, trying not to appear too interested, looked sideways at the case with the sword of The Ancient One.

Ares shrugged his shoulders:

“Only try. You drop the training and I’ll throw you into the pit... But let’s sum up. One voice ‘for’! One ‘against’! I abstain for the time being. So, the standing is even... Mm-yes, a complex situation... Okay, Daph, you can remain. You’re accepted into our team, but accepted conditionally. If I notice anything dishonest with you, or you are playing on the side of Light as before, your height will decrease by exactly a head. And consider that you’re obliged to Mr. Buslaev for your life... And you, Signor Tomato, stop staring at your sword all the time. First of all, you wouldn’t have enough determination to cut me down. Secondly, you broadcast your intentions too clearly. Learn from Daph’s darling cat! It was also ready to protect its mistress, but did this without any stress. See how relaxed it is! I’m beginning to love this little beast...”

Ares stretched and again settled back onto the back of the armchair. The blade had disappeared from his hand.

Daph looked with warmth at Methodius. She understood that she would stay alive, and understood that someone was to be thanked for this. And although she continued to see Methodius as a threat for guards of Light, she was filled with sincere liking for him.

“And he’s not bad... Not a bore... And on the whole there’s something in him,” thought she.

Methodius shrugged his shoulders and put under his arm the case with his sword.

“Have in mind, little one, you will not remain in the residence of Gloom itself. This isn’t a hostel for fugitive guards of Light. Glumovich will have to take in one more free student into his high school. Next time he’ll handle his eidos more carefully! Only I very much fear that there’ll be no next time. The sale and guarantee of eidos is a phenomenon valid for one occasion only.”

“I’ll be studying in a moronoid school?”

“Precisely. Not only to study but also to hide! What will you be there? Daphne? Too bright. Now you’ll be... mmm... Dasha. Choose a simpler last name for yourself. Any Eden, Paradise, Lightguard, to be sure! Julitta will write documents for you. She’ll do it now, right away!”

Ares, knowing his secretary well, especially emphasized the last phrase. Julitta sighed and extracted from the air a very large dusty trunk. She clicked the locks, and Methodius saw hundreds of different forms inside: IDs, passports, testimonies, certificates, student tickets, driver’s licenses, airline tickets, and so on.

“Where do we have birth certificates here? Aha, here! Well-s, please step to my desk, as the warriors have chopped up all the furniture here!” Julitta ordered and, dragging the trunk behind her, went into reception.

After sitting down at her desk, she extracted from behind her ear a black griffin feather suddenly appearing there.

“What should I write?” She hastened. “Thought up a last name yet? Think fast, before I get mad and put you down as some Flydump or Schmuck!”

“I want to be Patroclus!” After thinking, Daph said.

“Patroclus! Well, indeed no! Too loud! Better you be Pimenova! Modest and — he-he! — plain! No one envies, no one teases, no one makes mistakes in writing and... no one remembers. I adore simple last names. They rush past the ears like a piece of wet soap. It’s excellent for our work. So, we’ll put down: Darya Afanasevna Pimenova. Okey?”

And, without waiting for an answer, Julitta began to scribble quickly with the feather, even without dipping it into the inkpot. Methodius was stupefied. Julitta wrote... in a computer typeface, undistinguishable from that of an average laser printer.

Columns filled up one after another. Daph got parents, place of birth, and registration number of birth.

“One more question! Date of birth! How old are you, puss?”

“Thirteen t....” Daph started, but stopped short, noticing that Julitta was already writing.

“I thought so. No one will give you more than thirteen. There, all ready. Darya Afanasevna Pimenova. City of Moscow. Citizenship is Russian. Nationality is specified as according to the wishes of the parents. Registration number: 4543. Signed: head of Registration of Civil Status O.A. Sushnyak. Citizen Sushnyak has not specified her gender, but it’s her problem. Done!”

Julitta put away the feather, looked over the document with satisfaction and insidiously shouted to Ares:

“What stamp to slap on? Gloom or Savelovo Civil Registry Office of the city of Moscow? Or, perhaps, our little agent stamp?”

“Don’t play the fool!” A bass answered from the office.

“Well, so be it!” Julitta stated and with feeling pressed a round seal on the certificate. “Administration of Registration of Civil Status of the city of Moscow. Savelovo Division of Civil Registry Office,” read Methodius.

“That’s it, Citizen Pimenova! Take your document! No need for me to fill up the desk here with scrap paper!” Julitta ordered.

Daphne wanted to state that Julitta’s desk was already so covered, but decided not to get tangled with the angry secretary. Especially as Methodius had already managed to wink encouragement at her, showing that it was possible to deal with Julitta. Simply she was in a bad mood now.

“Is it at least authentic?” Daphne asked, looking over the greenish form.

“Of course! Do you think moronoids invented documents? They can’t even come up with clothespins for laundry!” Julitta snorted.

Having taken the document, Daph again dropped into Ares’ office.

“Done? Well, let’s have a look! Excellent! Now you exist in the moronoid world fully legally. Remember, minimal magic, no excessive splashing about, no new use of the horn of Minotaur — you’ll immediately blow your cover! — and... the main thing... no photographs and videos! Even by chance! Also, resort to the wings as little as possible... This also applies to your cat! But now all freedom!” Ares ordered.

Chapter 10

Date: 2015-12-24; view: 627