But I never managed to get to the book. He polished the uneven stones to a shine, appreciated the suddenly appearing pattern of sharp fractures and the depth of the glassy blackness, and wondered why he had not noticed before how difficult the stone was here? Why does it seem like I’ve already seen something like this somewhere? And then the master appeared. Dissatisfied – Marius had already become very good at guessing his mood behind his seemingly impassive expression. Threw:
– Hurry up. We start at sunset.
And there’s still time left before sunset to rinse off and change into clean clothes. And why with sunset? After all, Axis rites begin at dawn and end at midnight!
– What are we starting with, teacher? – he asked, unable to bear it.
– Rush order.
– Right now?! Or…
The master understood what was not said and explained:
– No, not one of those that are made only for the Axis. And it would be better not to take it, but sometimes it’s easier to charge triple the price and eventually agree than to explain to the customer why not. – Marius feigned extreme curiosity with his entire appearance, and the master relented: “Vitor del Bornio, do you know this one?” He wants urgently, absolutely immediately, to get a special bodyguard for his daughter.
– For what?! – Marius was amazed. – Virita deglia Bornio is a quiet, calm, well-mannered girl, the world would rather turn upside down than she would get into trouble.
Virita was indeed quiet, calm and well-behaved. And also boring. So boring that, despite the obvious beauty and sweet smile, already in the third minute of communication I wanted to run away anywhere, as long as it was far away. She's a bodyguard too?!
“So the world has turned upside down,” Master Turvon shrugged his shoulders and cast a short glance at the sun, which had almost disappeared behind the crowns of centuries-old oak trees. – Enough talking. Let's run.
The riddle called “a bodyguard for Virita” occupied Marius so much that he forgot to even think about the treatise. And how important is it, if he didn’t have time now, he’ll read it tomorrow. Or the day after tomorrow. In the end, if it were critical, the mentor would explain it right away.
And only when, with the last ray of sunset, together with Master Turvon, I stepped onto the perfectly round platform shining with the black fire of the night, I remembered another word spoken by the mentor: “a special bodyguard.” And, like a key in a lock, it clicked in my memory: “Mirror of the Night.” A ritual circle that does not require additional signs and amplifiers such as fire, blood or sacrifices. Only the shape, size and material work in it – fabulously expensive and rare, specially cut hellish glass. It is used to search for and summon souls that can linger in the world for a long time, and to install them in a suitable body. And, if necessary, to create this body.
Highest necromancy. So high that even among the masters, it would be good if one in a hundred would undertake it.
What is this that Vitor del Bornio ordered for his daughter?!
“You will be a conductor of power,” the mentor told Marius. “At the same time, you’ll look at a ritual that you’d better not get involved with for another hundred years.”
"You'll see"! How much will the conductor of power see if his job is to support the conductor of the ritual with his magic and not be distracted by anything else? After all, all the most interesting things don’t happen here. Master Turvon stood in the center of the circle and fell into a trance, and Marius could only stand in dead silence, strictly on the border of the circle and the lush grass, and stare at the lean figure, barely visible in the thickening darkness, motionless and literally soulless. The soul of the master necromancer, reflected by the Mirror and caught up in its dark radiance, wandered beyond the Boundary, looking for what he wanted. Marius would like to see how this search is going on! Yes, at least just to see what is there, beyond the Bound. The books I read were too contradictory to each other, describing the Edge and travel there. One might think that their authors organized a competition of liars, not for the sake of interest, but, at the very least, for a royal reward. And Turvon answered all the student’s questions with one answer: “You will see for yourself how the time will come, but for now it’s too early for you, I don’t teach.”
But you can secretly feel proud: even though the mentor is strong, the ritual would not have been possible without his help, an ignoramus. No matter how you look at it, you need a guide, someone who will serve as a beacon and an anchor, from whom a thread or a thick rope will stretch – as strong as you can – from the world of the living into the twilight of the Edge.
– Save-ee-ee!!! – a wild scream mixed with a squeal, which can only be emitted by a girl frightened to death, broke the silence into fragments. A lathered horse rushed out of the dense thickets of hazel trees, breaking branches; in the dim light of the moon, Marius clearly saw bulging, bloodshot eyes and flakes of foam on the skin shining with ripe chestnut. The brain noted that the horse was scared to death, no worse than the rider, the gaze, tearing away from the mentor, became attached to the thin figure in a tight dress, the body twitched treacherously to help the damsel in distress, to stop the racing horse. But he had to stand straight and watch only the master!
The bay horse crashed against an invisible barrier – for the duration of the ritual, the circle of the Mirror is not in the world of the living, but on the Edge, where there is no place for mortals with a still beating heart. It burst out and, as if the meeting with an otherworldly obstacle was the last straw, it slowly fell onto the black stones. Marius even shuddered from a surge of necroemanations, much more powerful than from deer killed in a hunt. The maiden flew out of the saddle with a desperate squeal, head over heels, over the head of the falling bay. Straight into the circle made by the death of the horse! And it would be okay to just join a circle, although this would not lead to anything good, but! This… shriek! She somersaulted right to the center of the Mirror, knocked Master Turvon off his feet and fell straight on top of him! And she froze, because now, in the midst of the activated ritual, her soul was guaranteed to go to the same place where the soul of the master necromancer wandered.
And what, one wonders, could a person who is not completely ignorant, but a categorical dropout, do in this difficult situation?!
First of all, don’t panic. This rule, true for any sudden problems, was hammered into the student not only by Master Turvon, but also by his father before him, from early childhood. And Marius, fully aware that he did not know what was “right,” instantly decided to do the only thing he could and that seemed to suggest itself. He continued to pour power into the thread that connected him with the master, preventing it from breaking and the necromancer’s soul from getting lost without a return path to the world. The connection, however, after the girl’s spectacular fall across the teacher’s body, behaved strangely. It twitched and tossed around, like an angry huge fish caught on a fishing rod that was too weak – it was about to break, but it didn’t break, it would tangle the tackle, hook it on a snag and… and still break. It became more and more difficult to hold on, not to let go, at some point Marius even imagined that at the other end there had happened, no less than, a fight, as if two hungry greedy fish were grappling with a tasty worm. Oh, if only he wasn’t that worm himself! How can creatures from the dark world, for whom there is nothing more desirable than warm human blood, get through the connection? How bad it is to be a dropout; he doesn’t even know what to expect, what to be afraid of, what can happen and what won’t happen for sure! And the master is also good, if only he could explain in detail all the dangers of broken or disrupted rituals, and how to deal with them! And he only said once, at the very beginning:
