In order to prevent me from getting sidetracked with "all sorts of unnecessary nonsense," Alexey had assigned a special person to handle things for me. I met this man on Sunday at my apartment in Belozersk.
His name was Frol, and he was some sort of household manager at the Naryshkin family estate, responsible for all the domestic affairs.
"It is most dreadfully cold in here, sir," he said after we stepped inside.
"That's my first request, Frol. Something should be done about the heating. ASAP."
Frol reached into his pocket and pulled out a small gray notebook.
He scribbled in it.
"It will be done, sir."
"And there's one more thing," I continued. "All the furniture needs to be replaced. I feel like a prince in a palace. Everything's gilded for no reason. I can't stand the kitsch."
"Very well, sir," he said with a nod. "How would you like it furnished?"
"I want something like this," I replied, showing him several photos on my phone that I had prepared specially for this purpose.
"Exactly like that, sir, or...?"
"As close as possible. I just want to feel like I'm coming home, not like I'm arriving to meet the Emperor. I'll send the pictures for convenience."
"Understood, sir."
"You'll be needing these," I said, handing him the apartment keys.
"When will you be done?"
"In four days," Frol answered immediately. "No advance payment needed. Everything will be settled upon completion."
I like him, Dorian murmured. I thought he might try to pull a fast one on you. I was about to suggest giving him a little nudge, but... If he does everything right, you should buy him a bottle of fine wine.
"Absolutely," I assured him, settling comfortably into the taxi.
Next on my agenda was Morok, where I planned to visit the Naschokin shop to select a magical crystal for Ibrahim. Dorian had mentioned that it'd serve as a kind of container for him. And after that, the blacksmith — I was in urgent need of a new energy sword.
Today, I found Foma behind the counter.
As soon as he saw me, he opened his mouth in astonishment.
"You truly never cease to amaze me, young man," he said with a smile. "With the way you're coming and going, one would think you unearthed some crystal cave."
"I'm not planning to sell anything today," I replied. "Actually, I want to buy something."
"Buy? That's excellent," Foma said, rubbing his hands together eagerly. "That's the secret of the trade, Maxim. Buy a little cheaper, sell a bit more expensive, and everyone's happy. The key to success? Avoid greed at all costs."
I glanced toward the armchairs, curious to see whether they had already replaced the candies in the bowl, or if it still held the same ones.
"I can see you're eager to get started with the negotiations." Foma nodded toward the chairs. "Please, be my guest."
This time, it was a bowl full of Three Bears.
"Help yourself," Foma said warmly, pushing the sweets in my direction.
I slid the candy into my mouth and cast a glance at Ibrahim, who stood between our armchairs with a somber expression, arms folded behind his back. With that yatagan, he'd make an impeccable bodyguard.
"What kind of crystal are you planning to purchase?" Foma inquired once I finished chewing.
Orange and pink ones won't do, Dorian interjected. They're too weak.
"I'm after quality stones," I responded. "Show me your finest specimens."
"Ah, I see!" Foma couldn't help but rub his hands together once more. "Are you looking to invest in some artifact or perhaps commission a new sword?"
I chose to remain silent.
"Forgive me, that's none of my business, of course. I just wanted to keep the conversation flowing," he said with a sheepish shrug, gesturing toward the candies. "Please, help yourself. I'll get some more."
A clever little fox, that one, Dorian muttered as I, following Foma's advice, eagerly devoured the candies. He's trying to gauge how badly you need that crystal.
"He's a merchant, Dorian. What exactly did you expect?" I replied coolly.
He thinks you're just a kid and will try to scam you. Be on your toes, Max, he warned.
"You're being paranoid again."
If he attempts to deceive us, we'll turn the tables on him. Oh! We can turn him into a balloon. He already looks almost like one with that pudgy belly of his.
Foma returned with several small cases, then carefully unfurled a piece of black velvet on the glass table and laid out three magical crystals — red, blue, and cyan — arranged from the least to the most valuable.
Though they varied considerably in size, the cyan one was the largest and most expensive of all.
"Do you like them? Take a look at these beauties," Foma said proudly. "Not long ago, I had a green one. Went for a good price, that one."
I decided to begin with the worst one and reached out to grasp the red crystal.
Not suitable, Dorian immediately cut in. It's too weak. Try the blue one instead.
"Only thirty thousand," Foma said with a hint of a smile.
"Considering you're a loyal client, I have no right to ask for more."
Thirty thousand? That was insane! I didn't have that kind of money.
I picked up the blue crystal.
Still not right, Dorian declared dismissively.
I put it down before Foma could even state the price.
The cyan crystal.
This time, Dorian kept silent. An unusually long silence, that was.
To fill the awkward pause, I brought the crystal closer to my face and feigned inspecting something deep within its shimmering depths.
"Not a single crack on it," Foma assured me confidently. "It's the finest piece available in this shop right now. A truly superb choice. I could easily sell it to anyone else for a hundred sixty thousand, but for you, I'll part with it for a hundred fifty."
That's the one. It's a tight fit, to be sure, but it'll suffice. Still laughable compared to the things we used back in the day, but beggars can't be choosers.
"It costs a hundred fifty thousand. I don't have that kind of money."
Shame. He won't haggle, the cheapskate. Just look at his brazen face. Of course, I could try to persuade him...
"No, I won't stoop to that," I said firmly, cutting him off.
Or perhaps you could borrow the money from Naryshkin, Dorian suggested. Friends sometimes lend each other money.
"He can't borrow me this much money," I responded. "I'll have to find it elsewhere."
"Forgive me for interrupting your thoughts, Maxim," Foma's voice interrupted gently, and I turned to face him. "I've seen similar expressions on my clients' faces more than once, and I'd like to ask you a rather daring question. What do you intend to do with the crystal? No need to answer if you prefer to keep it private; I just wanted to mention that we could consider renting it if it's a more affordable option. Perhaps on a weekly basis."
Rent? That was an intriguing idea. Very intriguing, indeed.
Considering how differently time flowed in Tenedom, a single day would be quite enough for me.
"And how much per week?"
"Five hundred rubles," Foma replied, rubbing his cheek thoughtfully. "Don't get me wrong, Max, but I don't know what you need it for. You might return it half-empty. Buyers of such rare and expensive crystals are usually very particular about their purchases, and I'd have to offer them a considerable discount."
"Effendi, this wretched jackal is trying to deceive you," Ibrahim interjected. "Renting such a crystal costs no more than three hundred rubles.
Tell him you'll go to Sverchkov if he doesn't offer you a better price."
"Mr. Naschokin, Count Sobakin mentioned that you are a reputable merchant." Foma listened to me with a broad, affable smile. "He recommended your shop and spoke of your integrity. I suppose I'll have to tell him that perhaps that's no longer quite the case. You're asking for five hundred rubles, though it typically costs only three hundred. I hear Sverchkov has more affordable rates."
As I rose from my chair, Foma's cheerful smile suddenly vanished from his face. In a swift movement, he caught my sleeve.
"Two hundred and fifty!"
"If you tear my shirt, I'll have to walk around the city looking quite untidy. I'm a humble student. How could I possibly afford such an expense?"
"Two hundred rubles a week!"
I paused, considering his proposal, then gently withdrew my hand.
"Let's just say that your greed had clouded your judgment. Here's what we'll agree upon: two hundred rubles for two weeks, a bowl of Bear in the North reserved solely for me, and a preferential price on my goods."
Foma stared at me in surprise, blinking in astonishment.
"Bear in the North?"
"Exactly," I replied. "They're candies. Very delicious ones."
"Ah, I see. That rings a bell." Foma nodded, then extended his hand.
"It's a deal then."
"It's a deal."
*** "Why didn't you tell me that magic crystals could be rented out?" I asked Ibrahim as we made our way toward the smithy.
"You didn't ask, effendi," the ghost replied simply.
"You shouldn't wait for me to ask, Ibrahim. From now on, I want you to speak your mind. If you need special permission to do so, consider it granted."
"Understood, effendi," Ibrahim responded with a nod.
We continued in silence until we reached the only blacksmith in the neighborhood. Inside, the lighting was dim and subdued. A man greeted us.
He moved with the effortless confidence of our fencing instructor, his light, feline gait betraying his experience as a fighter.
He cast a quick glance at me, nodded in greeting, and pointed toward one of the doors lining the long corridor of this unusual place.
Inside, the room was simply furnished — an unadorned wooden table, sturdy benches, and catalogs spread across every possible surface, filled with a variety of handles and blades of different lengths. Nearby, magic crystals of all sizes and shades were displayed separately, shimmering subtly.
"My name is Viktor," he said the moment he saw me. "Last name Hartulari. This is the first time I've taken an order from a child. Usually, it's their parents who do that."
"I'm not your usual kid," I replied. "My name is Maxim Temnikov."
"Ah." He nodded thoughtfully. "I see. I've heard a little about you.
Do you need a new sword?"
"Viktor's one of the best, effendi," Ibrahim said confidently. "I used to get my blades from him."
I drew my sword from its sheath and laid it carefully on the table.
"I like my blade. Unfortunately, the orange crystal is too weak for my needs," I said, and reached for the catalogue. I pointed at a stunning, sky-blue blade. "I need something like this."
"With your crystal or with ours?" Viktor inquired, seeking clarification.
"I don't have a crystal of my own. What's the difference?"
"In that case, the price will be roughly one hundred thousand," Viktor replied, picking up my sword and activating it with professional ease. "We could do it for ninety thousand if you're willing to pawn your old sword."
"I'll think about your proposal," I said calmly, rising from my seat.
Viktor deactivated the sword and returned it to me with a courteous nod.
"You know where to find us."
I cast a regretful glance at the option I favored and nodded.
That marked the end of my business in Morok for today. I didn't acquire a new sword, but I did manage to secure a magic crystal for Ibrahim at a discount. It was a small victory, but it was a win nonetheless.
Next on my itinerary were the mall and the barber's shop. I didn't linger long at either location.
A handful of trousers, jeans, shirts, a pair of sturdy boots, a jacket, a warm hat, a couple of sweaters, a scarf, and a pair of gloves — all of course in black. Though I made an effort to introduce a touch of variety, choosing different shades to keep things interesting. To avoid lugging all this around, I arranged for the purchases to be delivered straight to Kitezh.
As for my hairstyle, I decided to give it a subtle change. It had been a bit too dull before, and now it felt a lot livelier. Though I had to admit it kinda looked as if a firecracker had gone off on my head. Still, it added a fun, reckless touch to my appearance.
The clock had long since ticked past noon and hunger gnawed at me fiercely, yet there was no time to indulge. My plans for the day were still numerous and pressing. One crucial task awaited: transferring Ibrahim's stuff from his secret hideout to Tenedom.
For that, I grabbed the bags we had used to carry diving suits during our spelunking adventure. But even with two bags, I knew I wouldn't manage to make it all in one trip.
After the taxi driver's stern warning that a well-dressed young man like me had little business in this part of town, I stepped out of the car and headed into the woods. To the place where elixirs and all sorts of curiosities were waiting for me.
This time, the journey to Ibrahim's hidden den felt much quicker.
Before long, I was carefully packing the tiny bottles into the bags, ready for the next phase of my plan.
"Where are you planning to take all this, effendi?" Ibrahim asked for the first time, curiosity evident in his voice. "I must warn you, bringing all this into your room might raise unnecessary questions and—" "We're not taking it to my room, Ibrahim. We're taking it to Tenedom."
"And what is Tenedom, effendi?"
"It's a special place," I replied, glancing at him, pondering how best to explain it, but nothing came to mind. "You'll see for yourself soon enough."
Once the bags were packed to the brim, I took a crystal from my jacket pocket. Dorian began tracing the intricate sigils in my mind, guiding my hand to replicate them in the real world.
The technique was overly complex, with an abundance of delicate details woven into the sigil pattern. Some spells I could summon with a thought, their formulas clicking effortlessly in my mind, but this one demanded more. Here, every line had to be carefully sketched out. Dorian explained that this difference stemmed from the distinct schools of magic, each with its own techniques and nuances.
On the third attempt, Ibrahim finally disintegrated into a countless multitude of tiny, shimmering blue dots and vanished.
"Is he inside the crystal?"
No, he moved on into the afterlife. Of course he's inside the crystal.
I unclenched my fist and rolled my eyes. Inside the crystal, a faint, almost imperceptible blue glow had appeared.
Now, it was time to activate the Portal Key.
Compared to the previous sigil, this one already felt effortless. A few precise movements were enough, and the familiar scene soon unfolded before my eyes.
A tranquil clearing, a cozy house with a tiled roof, Hornborn peering out from behind the door, Lacrimosa waving at me without a skirt...
Without a skirt?
"Hi, Max!" her cheerful voice rang out clearly. "It's blazing hot today! I thought I'd melt into a puddle! Wanna go swimming?"
"Oh, she's wearing a swimsuit. Thank God..."
"Max-Dorian!" The dwarf, as usual, squeezed me tightly in his embrace, then grabbed the bags and marched toward the house.
"Take them to the alchemy lab," I instructed. "Lay the potions out and bring the bags back."
"Potions?" the witch asked, her eyebrows lifting in surprise. "Where did you manage to find those?"
No, it was definitely not a swimsuit, just a handful of shimmering threads. I needed to show Lacrimosa what a real swimsuit looked like and bring her one, or else she'd catch a cold. She might even develop pneumonia.
"It's a long story," I replied. "I met a ghost, and he gifted me these.
Now he's my assistant."
"You can see ghosts?" she asked, raising her right eyebrow with curiosity. "Just like Dorian?"
"Yeah, we're kind of linked now," I said with a faint smile.
Tell her to stop fooling around, Dorian cut in. She knows how this works. And she also has a potion that helps her see ghosts.
"Dorian says you can see them as well."
"You two are no fun..."
"By the way, that ghost is an excellent alchemist," I added. "But I'm not sure he'll want to share his knowledge with you."
"It's a male ghost, you say?" she inquired.
"Uh-huh."
"He'll spill his secrets," she said, pretending to adjust her swimsuit with a mischievous grin.
"Bormot?" I suddenly heard behind my back.
Turning around, I saw a smiling, light-gray ball of fur shimmering with quiet mischief.
"Bormotun outside in the daylight?!" Lacrimosa exclaimed in astonishment. "Now there's something you don't see every day... He must like you a lot, Max."
I gently stroked the little creature's head. He purred loudly, like a contented cat. I scratched behind his ear, and Bormotun closed his eyes, curling up and settling onto his side.
Yeah, yeah, he's adorable, Dorian grumbled. C'mon, Max, we have stuff to do.
Summoning Ibrahim back required the same spell. It resisted at first, just as before, but on the second attempt, the sigil pattern flared, and his form began to emerge from the crystal before me.
Hornborn brought me a set of empty sacks, and I went for the second batch of potions, leaving Ibrahim in Tenedom on his own. Then came the third run. Then the fourth. It wasn't until the fifth that I finally managed to clear out his basement. The guy was like a squirrel before winter, stuffing his hideout to the brim — it was incredible how much he'd managed to hoard.
I wandered through the house, searching for Ibrahim, but apart from the familiar trio, no one else was to be found. Strange. Knowing the Turk, I doubted he would've gone anywhere too far without waiting for me. After all, he was my assistant, and he took his job very seriously.
While I was roaming around, Bormotun kept watch from the center of the dining hall, sitting with a suspiciously satisfied expression, always smiling and softly purring.
Suddenly, an intriguing thought crossed my mind.
"Purely in theory — could Bormotun have eaten Ibrahim?"
Absolutely, Dorian replied without hesitation. There's no doubt that he would have attempted it.
No wonder he looked so smug.
"Spit him out at once!" I ordered.
Bormotun looked at me as if he'd suddenly forgotten how to understand human speech.
"If you do, I'll bring you a box of marshmallows..."
"Blah!"
In the blink of an eye, Ibrahim sat sprawled on the floor, completely unharmed, though a bit crumpled from the ordeal.
"You fiend! May lizards devour your insides!"
While the Turk cursed up a storm of profanities, I found myself lost in thought. If Bormotun could see ghosts and had the ability to devour them, then perhaps I could use this to my advantage... Maybe I could take him along sometime for our ghost therapy sessions?
"Bormotun."
"Bormut?"
"Eat Ibrahim."
Gulp!
Huh.
Would you look at that...?
"Now spit him out."
"Bormut?"
"Do as I say, Bormotun."
"Blah!"
"You fiend! May lizards devour your guts! Effendi, I beg you, make him stop!"
"Bormotun, don't you dare eat Ibrahim without my permission again."
Instead of replying, the creature yawned, stretched lazily, and settled down on the floor.
"Sorry about that, Ibrahim. Now. How about a tour of the place? To start, I'll show you my artifact collection."
Just as I did with Dorian last time, I laid out my treasures before Ibrahim, first proudly displaying the dragon's claw, then the chainmail.
When it was time to reveal the Book of a Thousand Places, I opened it to the very first page, pointed to Tenedom, and explained how the artifact functioned, describing its mysterious workings in detail.
"Once I've gathered my strength, more images will appear here," I said, then slowly turned the page and froze, my mouth agape.
To my astonishment, two new images materialized before my eyes.
"Dorian! Are you seeing this?!"
I'm not blind, Max, he replied.
"Vagasso and Forval," I read aloud.
Indeed.
"Where should we go first?"
To bed, my young friend.
"You're turning into Alexey..."
If you didn't catch it last time, this book was created by the Chaos God Barbadey. All these places were gifted to the demons of chaos. Go to sleep. It's unwise to venture there without proper rest.
Sometimes, Dorian truly was truly quite the character...
"Effendi?"
"Yes, Ibrahim?"
"Are you alright? You seemed lost in thought..."
"I'm just tired. Let's return to Kitezh. While I rest, your task will be to search for a secret hideout on the school grounds."
"What do you have in mind, effendi?"
"It must be dry, warm, and free of any foul odors."
"And how am I supposed to know if it doesn't smell, effendi?"
"That's a good question... I'm sure you'll find a way to figure it out."