Matabar

The tight collar of the linen shirt pressed against Ardi’s neck, but he endured it. He had already tried to loosen it once, only to tear the seam. His mother hadn’t said anything, but it was clear that she hadn’t been happy about the extra work.

Over the course of those few days that humans called “weekends,” the hunter had figured out a few things. First, everyone in Kelly’s house, and indeed in all of Evergale, had something to do. Some were hanging laundry, which was lightly steaming in the cold. Others cleared the streets of snow, brushed it off roofs and awnings, and hauled water from the lake, where young men sometimes helped with the ice harvest.

And it seemed like not everyone had those strange Ley crystals that made the stove and oven work without wood, like in the sheriff’s house. Ardi was constantly seeing people through the window, usually younger folk, carrying bundles of kindling or dismantling piles of wood to then carry heavy armloads of it inside.

Even the little ones had found something to do — throwing crumpled snow at each other and making idols out of snow. Ardi couldn’t understand the reason for such behavior, and he didn’t want to ask. Despite his promise to his brother and his grandfather’s words, he still longed to return to the mountain, afraid that if he left the attic room, he wouldn’t be able to resist and would run away.

But the sixth day had passed, the seventh had slipped by unnoticed, and Shaia was now leading him to the “school” with the sheriff. It was that strange building surrounded by a fence, where black and white-clad, young and old people alike would all be waiting in a line to get in. But Ardi didn’t get to meet any of them — they’d left before dawn. The hunter still couldn’t get used to the fact that he now wore “boots” on his feet, “underwear” under his pants and shirt, and a heavy, fur-lined coat instead of skins across his shoulders.

Ardi had kept trying to argue that he was actually too warm and that the coat was definitely unnecessary. After all, these were the foothills. It didn’t get cold here. But the townspeople, shivering with every passing gust of wind, had refused to accept such reasoning.

At the entrance to the building, they were met by a gray-haired man in his forties. He was missing several teeth, his face was lined with deep and obviously unhealthy wrinkles, and his worn, crumpled, and occasionally torn clothes reeked of vinegar and alcohol. Ardi even sneezed at his scent.

“Everything will be fine, madame Brian,” even his voice had a kind of slurping sound to it. “We’ll keep an eye on Ardi and make sure no one bothers him, and that he doesn’t... cause any trouble himself.”

“Thank you, Teacher Kolski,” Shaia nodded slightly.

“Sheriff,” the teacher tipped his hat.

“Kolski,” Kelly nodded back.

And while Shaia might not have noticed Kelly handing the drunkard a few rolled-up bills, Ardi even managed to catch their denomination. Two exes. That’s what they called those strange pieces of paper the people of Evergale exchanged for... well, everything.

“Well, let’s go, boy,” the teacher patted him on the shoulder, and they turned out to be almost the same height.

Ardi looked at the man and, by the Sleeping Spirits, it took all his strength not to grab him by the wrist and throw him somewhere far away. Guta would have been pleased. Ergar might even have paid him a compliment for doing such a noble deed, but his mother...

Shaia kept twisting her shawl in her hands, and her lips were pressed together so tightly that they’d formed a thin, pale line.

“I order,” Ardi smiled at her, making the teacher tremble. “Not worry. Hunter not harm fool youths. Everything order. I will in den when possible.”

The teacher turned to the sheriff, oily eyes wide open, but he just shrugged at him.

Shaia smiled tensely and nodded. “I’ll be waiting,” was all she said.

As Kelly led his mother away, she kept turning back to look at Ardi, barely hiding her tears. The hunter still wasn’t used to how soft Shaia had become. He remembered her as firm and, in some ways, even stern. The kind of person who could climb up to the high peaks of the Alсade the day after giving birth, braving the fierce wind and cold.

But now she’d simply disappeared around the corner, leaving only a faint scent of blackberries in her wake. But even that was soon overpowered by the stench of alcohol.

“Please, Hector’s son, for the sake of your father’s memory,” the teacher hiccupped. “Try not to eat anyone on your first day, okay? Face of Light’s tears, what a way to start the week...”

With that, Kolski led Ardi down a wide corridor. Here, the walls were covered with sheets of yellowed paper that had drawings and pictures on them, a huge map reaching up to the ceiling, and several chalkboards. Someone had carefully written the schedules of several classes on them.

Even after the railroad had brought in new settlers, Evergale had remained a small town, so there weren’t many students at the school. For example, Ardi, being twelve years old, was starting in the sixth grade, where there were fourteen others besides him. But they were probably just now waking up and washing, getting ready for the new day.

Kolski interrupted Ardi’s musings. He suddenly stopped and yanked on a door handle, almost tearing it from its hinges.

“Get in,” he said curtly. “I warned Teacher Tenebry. She teaches arithmetic. She won’t be too hard on you at first. Though you can’t string two words together, so who knows who will be tormenting whom.”

Ardi didn’t understand why words had to be strung together, but he went inside and immediately sniffed the air, as his forest friends had taught him. It smelled of chalk, flour, flowers, and fear. Looking around, the hunter couldn’t fathom what could’ve possibly frightened the locals. Surely it wasn’t the wide, somewhat worn desks, the round stools, or the two boards. One hung right by the entrance, still bearing the marks of past lessons. The other, at the back of the classroom, doubled as the doors to a rather spacious cabinet.

There was nothing else here but the clock and the chandelier.

Still sniffing and looking around, Ardi found an empty spot. In the far corner, by the window, one of the desks looked less worn, and the scent coming from the seat was less powerful than the others.

People sat here much less often, and apparently it had something to do with the hole in the wall through which a playful wind was coming in. Ardi was only too happy about that.

“Well,” Kolski scratched his head, “have a nice day.”

He turned and left, the sound of his footsteps fading toward the stairs, along with his grumbling:

“Animals don’t belong in school... Fucking Sheriff...”

Ardi wasn’t offended by the words. He didn’t understand the townspeople, and they didn’t understand him. It was just like the first few months of Ardi’s life in the Alсade. It would’ve been foolish to expect anything different when one finds themselves on unfamiliar trails...

Ardi shook his head.

He had to get used to it.

At least for the sake of his brother and his mother.

He was no longer on the trails. This was an unfamiliar s-i-t-u-a-t-i-o-n. That seemed to be the word his grandfather had used.

Ardi sighed and struggled with the clasp on the bag Shaia had sewn for him. It was made of sturdy brown cloth, lined with leather strips in places for durability, and decorated with symbols that could only be found in the sacred lands of the Matabar. Ardi hadn’t known their meaning before, but looking at them now brought warmth and a touch of sadness to his heart.

He pulled out a thick book with large, golden letters on the cover that read: “Arithmetic Textbook, 6th Grade, General Education Course.” Next to it, he placed a notebook and a jar of thick, black water ink. You had to dip a pen with an iron nib into it, then turn a small gear to draw the ink in. Then you could write, adjusting the thickness of the letters through the pressure you applied.

In theory, it was not complicated at all. But in practice, Ardi had smeared ink all over his hands and face during his days in the attic, and he still hadn’t managed to write anything decent. And he loved to write. Atta’nha had often asked him to copy something from the Fae’s scrolls and books for her. The she-wolf had assured him that it would help him learn better, because not only his eyes but also his hands would then remember the letters and words. But back then, Ardi had used to write with a clever stick that left barely visible, gray threads on any surface. Even on water.

It had resembled the pencil that Shaia had carefully sharpened and placed next to his pen, only it was more convenient and durable. At least it hadn’t broken when Ardi had squeezed it too hard.

Satisfied that all his supplies were in place, Ardi blinked and adjusted the coat lying next to him on the desk. He couldn’t figure out where to put it, and eventually decided that the situation would resolve itself somehow.

Minutes passed, and Ardi watched them through the slow movements of the clock’s hands. Soon, a warm sunrise blazed across the prairies and steppes to the east, filling the sky with the colors of spring flowers and promising the townspeople that winter would eventually end. Sunbeams danced carelessly along the glass, slipping into the classroom and twirling with dust motes that were clearly visible.

Ardi sniffed the air and then turned sharply to the window beside him.

“Oh,” a familiar voice could be heard, followed by the sound of a fall, the crunch of snow, and some hurried voices.

“Neviy! Maybe you should stop sneaking buns from your mother!”

“And maybe try to eat something else for a change!”

“Kevin is just as big!”

“But at least he never suggests trying out stupid ideas!”

Ardi moved closer to the window and saw a group of youngsters scrambling around in the snow below, two of whom he recognized. One was slightly chubby, solidly built, and dressed in baggy clothes. His name was Neviy. And the one standing a little apart from the tangle of arms and legs was slim, with a long braid, bright eyes, and slightly rosy cheeks — that was Anna.

If the hunter had understood things correctly, the second girl trying to free herself from the pile of boys was Olga. A strange name. Ardi had never heard it before. And her hair, the color of autumn leaves, and her eyes, which resembled the summer sky, were even stranger. Taller than Anna, she helped a small, skinny boy to his feet. His skin was the color of wet sandstone and looked oddly dry, his thick hair hung around his head like raven feathers, and his thin lips were pressed together in annoyance. He, like Olga, looked like a stranger to the Alсade, so Ardi identified him as Faruh. He figured it was a safe guess.

Soon, Neviy and, by process of elimination, Kevin, also got up from the snow. Ardi rubbed his eyes in surprise. If not for the scar on his cheek, Kevin would’ve looked exactly like Neviy. The only other difference was that his clothes looked a bit neater — he probably wore them more carefully. Otherwise, except for that scar, they were identical in appearance and build. It was too bad that Ardi couldn’t really take in their scent properly due to the snow and the presence of several other youngsters down below — maybe they even smelled the same.

“Well,” the dark-skinned boy finished brushing the snow from his fur and turned to Neviy. “Have you seen-”

“Guys,” Anna called to them, nodding toward the window.

She and Ardi had been looking into each other’s eyes for the last few seconds. The school was on a small rise, so the window was about the height of the second floor. And apparently, the boys had to stand on each other’s shoulders to see anything.

“Hm,” Neviy scratched his head again. “You’re Ardi, right?”

“I Ardi, yes,” the hunter replied calmly.

The group exchanged glances and then Anna pointed upwards.

“We can’t hear you,” she explained, then added, “There’s a latch up there; unhook it and lift the window.”

They couldn’t hear him? Oh... right... Human hearing.

Ardi examined the window and indeed found a latch in the middle of the frame. Removing the small metal hook from its indent, Ardi pushed the window gently, but it only squeaked mournfully in response. Fortunately, it didn’t break.

“No, no,” Anna shook her head. “Grab the frame and pull it up.”

She made a few movements that reminded Ardi of his mother hanging laundry up on a line. He frowned and looked at the window again. The frame was divided into two wooden squares, with cloudy glass trapped inside them. The lower square overlapped the upper one slightly, and there were small indentations in the walls. Having apparently understood the mechanism, Ardi pulled on the frame, and it slid up the grooves, rising upwards.

“Wow,” Neviy managed to say. “We thought you were completely wild.”

The golden-haired girl slapped her friend on the back of the head. He hiccupped a bit in surprise.

“Hello,” the dark-skinned boy waved a little shyly. “My name is Faruh. And this is-”

But he was immediately interrupted by the same girl who had just slapped Neviy.

“Olga,” she introduced herself, confirming Ardi’s suspicions.

“Neviy,” the chubby boy grumbled, then pointed to his silent twin. “The quiet one is my brother.”

Brother... Perhaps humans had different kinds of brothers? Erti, for example, looked a bit like Ardi, but he was certainly not an exact copy of him.

“Anna,” the girl with the rouge finished their introductions. He was pretty certain that that was what they called those spots on her cheeks.

The hunter remained silent. He had already introduced himself.

The group wasn’t in a hurry to continue the conversation, either, obviously feeling uncomfortable. Well, at least they didn’t smell of fear, and that was good.

“Sorry if we distracted you,” Anna continued, not breaking eye contact. Among animals, this was considered a challenge, but among humans, it was a sign of good manners. It was one of those many differences between two worlds... “We were told you were coming today. We wanted to go to class, but the Sheriff and your mother met us along the way. They warned us that the school is locked from the inside and no one can get in until classes start.”

“Not the best idea, by the way,” Faruh grumbled, shifting from foot to foot. “It’s not summer. For the whole school to be stuck outside...”

The hunter let his words slide by.

“You say little truth,” Ardi narrowed his eyes slightly. “You say something lie.”

The group exchanged glances, and then Faruh whispered, thinking he was unheard:

“Even my grandfather speaks Galessian better, and he spent his whole life in Al’Zafir!”

“Shh,” Neviy hissed at him. “See how closely he’s watching you... he can probably hear us.”

Seeing this, Anna rolled her eyes for some reason, then smiled lightly and sincerely.

“You are very quick-witted. Just like Erti! When Mama and I go to madame Brian for clothes, I always leave puzzles for Erti. Sometimes, he manages to solve them even though he doesn’t go to school yet!”

Ardi nodded. This time, she was telling the truth... or so it seemed. Even though Ergar had left him with the full power of a Matabar — at least as much as his half-blood nature allowed him to have — it had always felt as if the earth of the Alсade itself had been helping him. So, when it came to Okta, he’d always been able to tell when she was lying, but now...

“Your mother asked us to take care of you,” Olga said distantly, even coldly.

And that was true. If Ardi wasn’t already an independent hunter, he would have been offended by such disregard for his abilities, but humans had their own rules. In their eyes, he was still a youth. And he would remain one for the next four winters. And so, Shaia was simply taking care of him. In her own way.

“And we were really curious,” Neviy’s eyes sparkled as he put his fists on his hips. “And you’re not as scary as the stories say. Your pupils aren’t vertical, you don’t look like a beast, and your fangs...”

Ardi grinned broadly.

“...aren’t very big,” Neviy finished the sentence without his former enthusiasm. “Well, at least they’re not huge.”

“‘Not huge fangs’ are the fangs of us normal humans,” Faruh whispered to him. “But his... Those are real fangs.”

The friends exchanged glances, then looked back at Ardi. He, in turn, was calmly studying the group of youngsters below. His sharp gaze didn’t miss the fact that under their black jackets, they wore wool vests, not counting their linen shirts and, obviously, at least two layers of underwear. It seemed to him like people liked to wear so many layers of clothing that they could be peeled like onions.

“School will be opening soon,” Anna was either the bravest or the most responsible of them, because she spoke up again. “We’ll try to get to the classroom first, but if someone beats us to it and says something unpleasant to you, please don’t pay attention to them, okay?”

“Yeah,” Neviy chimed in. “Everyone in town knows that the school would’ve been half empty if not for your father. And when they built this building, they even thought of naming it after him.”

Only then did Ardi remember that, six years ago, when he had seen that raid go down through Ergar’s eyes, the Evergale school hadn’t been here on the outskirts of town, but among the other buildings, right across from the sheriff’s office and, incidentally, the local jail.

“All right,” Ardi nodded briefly.

His future classmates waved at him — except for Olga — and ran through the snow toward the porch, grabbing their strange, brown leather bags as they did so. Ardi lowered the window and looked at the clock. If he was remembering the meaning of the numbers and hands correctly, there were only five minutes left until seven o’clock, when classes would begin.

Soon, his suspicions were confirmed by the voices of adults reminding the children of the rules of conduct in the building, telling them about lunch and classes. But their words were drowned out by the ringing laughter, the stomping of feet, and the buzz of older students discussing everything from their part-time jobs to matters of the heart.

Ardi’s breathing quickened and he covered his ears with his hands. His head was spinning and everything was blurring before his eyes.

Never before had he been in the middle of such a riot of sounds, smells and new sensations. The forest, even in the busiest of areas, had never been so loud and vibrant. Maybe only anthills could compare, but Ardi had never been in one until today.

Trying to calm his pounding heart and the goosebumps marching down his neck, he did as Skusty had taught him, gradually cutting the threads of new smells, muffling the sounds of unfamiliar voices, and pushing deep into the recesses of his mind the images that his senses had conjured up.

There was no game here that needed to be tracked, so noticing every little detail and picking up even the faintest notes of scents in the rare gusts of wind would do him no good. And there were no hunters whose trails he had to avoid.

This was a different world.

And Ardi was slowly immersing himself in it.

He had no idea how long he had been sitting like this, but at some point, someone tapped him gently on the shoulder.

Ardi opened his eyes and realized that he was sitting in the company of about fifteen humans. There was one adult and fourteen children. The latter sat at desks already surrounded by textbooks and notebooks. The writing on the blackboard had been replaced by other words, and a tall, stately woman with a stern gaze and strange, iron-framed glasses perched on her nose, was looking directly at him.

“You’ve been sitting like that for half the lesson,” whispered Anna, who, it turned out, was sitting next to him.

“Half a lesson…” What did that mean?

“Student Egobar,” the woman in black and white school clothes addressed him. “If you refuse to pay attention in my class, you might as well go for a walk and not incite the other children.”

Ardi didn’t understand some of those words, but he got the general meaning.

“I sorry,” he apologized sincerely, remembering how much his back had ached after Ergar’s tail lashes, which he’d given him whenever he’d noticed that his student was distracted and not paying attention. “I was-”

“Excuses don’t do a man any good, student Egobar,” the teacher interrupted him, then took a long, thin wooden stick from her desk and pointed it at the blackboard. “What do you see here, student?”

Ardi almost blurted out “a stick,” but his quick thinking told him the woman was pointing at something. But what? His hunter’s knowledge was only good enough for him to make out a string of numbers mixed with some dashes, dots, question marks, and other symbols.

“Digits,” Ardi replied after a moment. “And formulas. I no more knowledge.”

The teacher’s eyebrows rose slightly. As did Anna’s.

“Well,” she cleared her throat. “That’s better than I expected... What you see before you is a fractional equation with one unknown, student Egobar. It’s a new topic we just started today.”

“What unknown?” Ardi asked.

One of the boys in the class let out a short, barely audible laugh, but his neighbors immediately silenced him.

“This symbol,” the teacher pointed to some lines resembling a letter, “indicates the presence of an unknown in the equation. It must be calculated.”

To be calculated. A symbol. Within the digits and formulas…

Were these people sure they hadn’t been cursed by the Ley and lost their minds? Why else would they add letters to numbers?

The teacher tapped the board with her stick, then sighed slightly.

“Sit down, student Egobar, and try to be fully present in my class, and not just physically, either. After all, no one exempted you from the final exams at the end of the year, and if you intend to find a job after school that pays more than mucking out stables does, I think it’s in your best interest not to ruin your academic record.”

Academic record? Had she just uttered a curse in the demons’ language? All right, maybe Ardi was just trying to amuse himself because he didn’t like not understanding anything.

“Thank you,” he said, eliciting another stifled laugh.

Ardi sat down and grabbed his pen. Even though he didn’t understand anything, that didn’t stop him from copying everything down, as Atta’nha had taught him, and reading it carefully later. If necessary, he would read it several times and...

The hunter looked at his pen, then at the ink, then at his notebook and, putting the ungrateful tool aside, picked up the pencil. It was just as Guta had taught him: trying to cross a raging river right away would be foolish. It was far better to start with a stream and learn in shallow water. So...

“Achoo,” Anna covered up a sneeze.

Ardi looked at the girl, and his sharp eyes didn’t miss the blue hue of her nails, her pale lips, and the slight tremor that occasionally shook her. Ardi reached for his coat, but then realized that Anna was sitting right where his outerwear had been.

He looked around and noticed that all the students had come to the classroom in shoes that were too light for winter. So, they must have changed them somewhere. For an experienced hunter who knew how to read the behavior of others, this task was much easier than “a fractional equation with one unknown.”

The school probably had a place where the younglings changed, but they were unlikely to have taken his coat there. Which meant...

Ardi got up and walked over to the cupboard with the chalk-covered doors. He opened them slightly, then smiled as he pulled his coat out from the depths of the old furniture.

“Student Egobar!” A scolding shout, accompanied by the teacher’s stick pounding on the board, interrupted Ardi’s triumphant moment. “What do you think you’re doing? I don’t remember you asking permission to get up, and I don’t remember granting it!”

Ardi was so surprised that he almost dropped his coat. What did this strange woman want? Perhaps he had misunderstood her?

If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.

“What wrong?” Ardi asked.

“Your behavior, student Egobar!” The teacher was filled with such deep indignation that she seemed slightly out of breath. “What are you doing? This is not your mount... not your home! Sit down immediately! And next time, ask my permission before getting up, or you’ll be punished!”

Ardi closed his eyes and took several deep breaths, in and out. Just like Guta had taught him...

She was human and didn’t understand that her words could’ve deeply insulted any other hunter, who would then have had to fight her to the death on the hunting trails. But here, Ardi reminded himself, there were no trails, no hunters. Only strange and incomprehensible rules and customs that Ardi hadn’t yet understood.

If he took her words about “asking permission” and “being punished” to heart and started a fight, it wouldn’t do anyone any good. Maybe it would satisfy his pride, but it certainly would not help Shaia and his brother.

“Forgive I,” Ardi said reluctantly. “I not know you ways.”

But he couldn’t bring himself to look away from the teacher’s brown eyes — he simply couldn’t bear such humiliation. And when Ardi took a step forward, the teacher flinched and pressed her back against the wall, her lips parted slightly. She did this unconsciously, because a moment later, she regained her stately posture and lifted her chin, but she still smelled of fear.

Ardi sighed.

It was as Skusty would say: “Your cedar head is empty.”

Returning to his desk, Ardi covered the stunned Anna with his coat, then sat down, picked up his pencil, and, ignoring the grave silence, began to carefully copy down the numbers, figures, and symbols that were still keeping their secrets hidden from him.

“Thank you,” a voice whispered beside him.

Ardi turned and saw Anna’s eyes. She didn’t look away or hide them. And unlike most of those present, who now smelled like the teacher — of fear — she wasn’t afraid at all. She simply wrapped herself more tightly in his coat, sighed, and smiled.

The hunter’s heart skipped a beat, then another, then began to pound as if he were chasing a particularly frisky mountain goat.

He nodded slowly, then returned to his writing.

The rest of the lesson flew by faster than a diving hawk, but unfortunately, Ardi only managed to learn the teacher’s name — Tenebry — during the entire hour. Before she left the classroom, she assigned them homework. And no, it wasn’t something you could touch. It was just a few “problems in the textbook” that “had to be solved by the fifth day or you could end up with a stake.”

Ardi seriously doubted that the teacher would actually drive a sharpened stake into someone’s chest, but who knew what these people’s customs were actually like. Atta’nha had said that the human tribe still believed that this was the way to put a vampire to rest. And when Ardi had asked her what the actual way to do it was, the she-wolf had simply told him to never cross paths with bloodsuckers, and if that ever happened, that he should run away.

As soon as Teacher Tenebry left the classroom, a young man entered. He looked to be about nineteen, maybe a little older — observing townsfolk from the attic window had helped Ardi start to get a sense of human ages.

Short, clean-shaven, with sleepy eyes and slightly dirty sleeves, he placed a briefcase — that was what such a bag was called — on the desk and greeted them.

“Good morning, students,” his voice was soft and slightly sweet, like molasses. “Let me introduce myself to our newcomer — I am Teacher Parnas, and I teach History of the Empire and the World.”

Ardi sighed in relief. At least he knew something about this, thanks to the she-wolf.

“Don’t we get a break?” One of the boys asked.

“Of course,” Teacher Parnas shrugged. “You’ll have ten minutes, as usual. I’ll just be keeping you company today.”

With that, he sat down at his desk and pulled out a scroll similar to the ones Mr. Molinier had been selling. Thanks to his mother and Kelly, Ardi now knew that the man was called a postman and that this kind of scroll was called a newspaper.

“He’s probably here because of you,” Anna whispered as she put her arithmetic textbook into her briefcase and pulled out another identical one, except its title had changed from “Arithmetic” to “General History.” Ardi quickly searched his bag for a similar one. “I mean, the teachers usually go to the staff room and we’re left alone. That’s during short breaks, of course. And during the long ones, you can go for a walk or visit the cafeteria. By the way, they’re serving biscuits for lunch today. Do you like biscuits?”

Ardi frowned.

“Biscuits?”

“Yeah,” Anna nodded, causing her braid to slip from her shoulder and lie across her desk, which, for some reason, made Ardi’s heart skip a beat again. “They’re sweet rolls sprinkled with powdered sugar. Madame Foster made them especially for your arrival.”

“Foster,” Ardi repeated, then looked at Neviy and Kevin. They were whispering something while occasionally glancing at the hunter and his new friend. “Their mother?”

Anna looked a little surprised but remained calm.

“How did you know? By scent?”

With any other person, even his brother, Ardi would never have answered this question. He wasn’t a teacher, meant to instruct others in the ways of the hunt, but... For some reason, he wanted to answer this girl.

“They wrinkle noses same way when laugh,” he explained, pointing at Neviy’s face. “Same eye shape elder woman, and same phrase. When teacher enter, brothers joke politic unpleasant. Madame Foster joke same with Mr. Molin-”

Anna’s hand gently covered Ardi’s mouth and, to his surprise, he shivered and got goosebumps.

“You’re very observant, Ardi,” Anna quickly removed her hand. “I suppose it makes sense, but... don’t say anything about Mrs. Foster and the postman, okay?”

“Secret?”

Anna smiled a little sadly and somewhat distantly.

“A secret that the whole town knows, except for Emilia’s husband — that’s Mrs. Foster’s name, by the way. And her children — Neviy and Kevin — don’t know either. Or maybe they do, but they pretend not to. So... let’s not talk about it. Especially around them.”

Ardi frowned. On the one hand, he understood all the words Anna had said, but on the other, he didn’t understand their meaning at all. Humans weren’t wolves or swans — they didn’t choose a mate for life. Even Matabar couldn’t always boast that. So, if Mrs. Foster wasn’t happy with her mate, she could simply refuse him.

“Complicate.”

“People often are,” Anna glanced quickly at the brothers, then took Ardi’s notebook. “You wrote everything down correctly, but you didn’t solve anything?”

“Not know how solve,” Ardi wilted. For some reason, he didn’t like to admit to this girl that he couldn’t do something. “But I figure. In future. I definitely figure. This today thought. I not put it in tomorrow.”

“That’s right,” Anna agreed. “I’ll help you this evening.”

“You? Help? Evening human children be home.”

Anna turned to him in surprise and asked, “Don’t you know?”

Ardi shrugged. There was so much he didn’t know in the human world that if he started to list it, it would take several spirit steps... several days for him to finish.

“Sheriff Brian has arranged with my father for you to work on our farm.”

Right. Kelly had went to visit the Polskih farm to find Ardi a job there. It was a funny coincidence that Anna had turned out to be the daughter of the man Ardi hadn’t had the best first impression of. Well, it would be a lesson for him to apply in the future: don’t trust words spoken about someone behind their back, especially on the street. Or maybe the lesson was to not judge a man by his daughter and...

Sleeping Spirits! How complicated humans’ lives were!

“Now, students,” Teacher Parnas clapped his hands and walked over to the board, where he had a map hanging from barely noticeable hooks. “In our last lesson, we began with the expansion of the Kingdom of Gales, which laid the foundations for the birth of our Empire.”

“And you also told us a story about Ivar the Fool!” Someone shouted from behind their desk.

“Not the Fool, but Ivar the Healer,” Parnas corrected, then winked. “But that doesn’t change much... Anyway, let’s move on to today’s topic. Write this title down: ‘The influence of Star Magic on Gales’ military expansion.’”

Ardi spent the next half hour in a desperate battle against sleep. The hunter even began to suspect that Teacher Parnas possessed the knowledge of an Aean’Hane and had somehow enchanted him. But he still diligently copied everything Teacher Parnas wrote down as best he could with his clumsy fingers. Unlike the arithmetic teacher, Parnas spoke more to himself than to the students.

Anyway, hearing about how the territorial claims of the Kingdom of Gales had extended to the Kingdom of Ectassus, which had occupied most of the western continent, and how these claims had depended directly on the number and quality of Star Mages, one of the main combat units of Gales...

Not only was it boring, but Ardi didn’t even understand most of the words.

All he knew about Ectassus from the she-wolf’s books was that his ancestors with other Firstborn had lived there until the kingdom had fallen during their war with the humans. No more attention was paid to it. Apparently, it was not very important.

Only occasionally did the teacher break up the monotony of his lecture with short questions:

“Where did Star Magic come from?”

And despite there being fifteen students, only a few hands usually went up. Mostly Anna’s and another boy’s, who had hair kissed by fire. As Ardi had found out, the only way to speak in class was to raise your hand first and then wait for the teacher to address you.

“Go ahead, student Polskih,” the teacher requested, quickly adding, “but please don’t stand up or you’ll drop your coat.”

Anna cleared her throat and replied.

“From the eastern continent, three centuries before the fall of Ectassus.”

“Correct,” the teacher nodded. “As you know from the history of the ancient world, before the first travelers from what is now the Republic of Castilia arrived on these shores, the eastern continent was considered a legend.”

Ardi almost blurted out that in Atta’nha’s books, the lands beyond the islands were still akin to children’s fairy tales.

“And why did Star Magic become so widespread?”

Again, Anna raised her hand.

“What, no one else? No one at all?” In response, he got only silence from the others. “All right, student Polskih, but remember, I’ll only give you credit for ten correct answers, not five.”

Anna didn’t seem too concerned by these words, whatever they meant.

“Star Magic has many advantages over Firstborn magic.”

The teacher nodded and waved his hand encouragingly.

“Can you elaborate on that, student Polskih?”

“First of all, it doesn’t require any innate talent, and anyone can learn it-”

“Uh-huh,” the red-haired boy interrupted. “That’s why we’re all wearing cloaks and epaulets. Don’t forget, Anna, that without highly concentrated Ley crystals or a magical beast core, we can only learn the theory.”

“Student Kenbish,” the teacher said quietly. “You’re right to point out the drawbacks of this art, but let me remind you that in my class, it’s not customary to interrupt your classmates, especially when no one is addressing you.”

The boy named Kenbish just snorted.

“Sure, sure, we ordinary people,” he emphasized that last word, “are not allowed to do such a thing, but that non-human over there, just today-”

“Kenbish!” The teacher exclaimed, picking up a large ruler off the table. “Your hands, Kenbish!”

The boy pursed his lips, held out both hands, and then the classroom echoed with several sharp, stinging slaps. Ardi was taken aback at first, but when he saw the other children treating it as something normal, he relaxed. Apparently, it served the same purpose as Ergar’s tail.

“I’ll leave a note for your parents, Kenbish,” despite his young age, the teacher’s words were stern and as hard as iron, like hammer blows landing on a nail head. “And may the Face of Light help you if you don’t deliver it.”

“Of course, Teacher Parnas,” the boy hissed, rubbing his reddened palms.

An awkward silence hung in the classroom after that, albeit only briefly.

“Ahem... continue, student Polskih.”

“Yes... of course. So, Star Magic doesn’t require any innate talent... I already said that... And it’s much faster to learn how to use, and over nearly a thousand years, countless applications have been invented for it. Not to mention that it’s simply more powerful, which is why the human states expanded so quickly.”

The teacher nodded, then turned back to the blackboard, occasionally casting disapproving glances at the redhead.

“An excellent answer,” he praised Anna. “I would only add that we’ve achieved our current progress, as well as liberation from the yoke of Ectassus and the enslavement of the human race by the Firstborn, all of that thanks to Star Magic and humanity’s mastery of the Ley Lines and their crystallized form. But... Oh, how time flies during an interesting discussion... Let’s save this topic for the next lesson. For homework, read the corresponding chapter and don’t forget that next week, we will have a test on the ‘Prerequisites for the Creation of the Empire’ section in the book. Please prepare for it. And now I’ll hand you over to your chemistry teacher.”

As Parnas left the classroom, an elderly woman entered. Her gray hair was tied back with a red ribbon, and instead of a briefcase, she carried a small, clinking doctor’s bag. She didn’t seem very happy to be there.

Neither did the students.

“What story Ivar the Healer?” Ardi asked Anna. “I remember such words from teacher.”

“You’ve never heard it before?” She almost fell off her chair. “Oh, right, sorry, I didn’t think. Where would you have even heard it... He’s one of the characters in a story. Nobody knows if he’s real or not, but he always got into ridiculous situations. We even have a saying, although it is not very popular... Don’t act like Ivar.”

“Like Ivar,” Ardi repeated, committing it to memory.

“There’s a story about how he tried to cure a boar of rabies...” Anna laughed, then blushed in embarrassment. “But you should ask Neviy about that.”

“But-”

“I won’t tell you the story,” the girl shook her head. “It’s not very... appropriate.”

The chemistry class was much quieter. Maybe because the students had gotten used to the presence of a newcomer, maybe because of the subject itself — it reminded Ardi of the she-wolf’s science of mixing various plants, roots, herbs and fruits — which at first seemed quite straightforward, but as soon as examples appeared on the blackboard, Ardi, and he wasn’t alone in this, immediately got completely lost.

If in arithmetic, numbers and figures were mixed with letters, here it was exactly the opposite. Only occasionally did some numbers appear among the multitudes of letters and symbols, signs and dashes.

Ardi diligently copied everything down, as much as he could. Someday, he would definitely figure it all out, but apparently not today. When he looked at his notebook at the end of the lesson and realized that he couldn’t even remember the teacher’s name, he decided that it wouldn’t be tomorrow either...

After chemistry came geography, taught by none other than the arithmetic teacher. But this time, she was armed not with chalk and a stick, but with a map and a pointer. Or was that the same stick as before? This lesson seemed to be about the islands between the two continents. Ardi listened attentively — he had always liked stories about island nations. He had read many tales in the she-wolf’s library about the lives of the inhabitants of the Shallow Seas.

And now he’d also learned that there had once been a continent there, but it had sunk due to a terrible catastrophe, creating the islands and their rather amusingly arranged states. There were two Grand Duchies — Foria and Grainia — and their neighbors, Olikzasia, Lintelar, and the mysterious, remote land known as Makingia. According to legends, the exiled Aean’Hane, who practiced the dark arts, lived there.

Ardi had once tried to ask the she-wolf about the Dark Names, and that was the only time he’d ever seen true fury in his mentor’s eyes. She’d forbidden him from ever so much as thinking about that art.

The teacher said a few words about each of them, explaining their main “export and import items,” whatever that meant.

And with that, the first part of the day was over, and the students started heading for the cafeteria. However, a few people in white aprons with yellow stains entered the classroom, intercepting them. They were carrying trays of plates and rolls with them.

“Are we prisoners today?” Kenbish muttered.

“Kenbish,” said Teacher Tenebry calmly. “Save your jokes for after school.”

The boy just mumbled something and took a spoon. While the others eagerly devoured the meat broth and followed it up with fresh bread, Ardi struggled to figure out how to do it. The spoon wouldn’t sit right in his hand and kept trying to escape to some unknown destination. And even when he did manage to use it, the hunter would burn his tongue on the hot liquid.

“You have to blow on it,” Anna whispered, demonstrating what she meant.

Ardi nodded and tried to do so, but things ended up going almost the same as they had with Shaia’s cooking. The only difference was that the soup wasn’t a stew — it didn’t splatter all over the table, but ran back into the bowl.

The hunter was disheartened as he looked at the smiling girl. He thought she would laugh at him or be disgusted, but Anna just put her spoon down, took Ardi’s hand, cleverly folded his fingers, and put the spoon between them. She scooped up some soup, brought it to her face, and blew gently on it, pursing her lips.

Ardi should have been paying attention to what had just happened, but all he remembered was the scent of her hair. It smelled like heather and honey.

A little later, they brought them some buns. Each student received one along with white cloths. These were called napkins. They also got a cup of tea. It wasn’t as delicious as what Atta’nha had made for him, but decent.

When lunch was over, the students had some more time to rest, and then a familiar man came into the classroom. He was still rumpled, grumpy, and reeking of alcohol.

He was carrying two textbooks and nothing else.

“First lesson — reading,” he said in a gray, indifferent tone. “Second lesson — writing. Next week is the dictation and the reading exam. Today — hand in your poems. Who’s ready first?”

Poems? They wrote those here? Ardi frowned. He wasn’t even ready to write a stanza, let alone a whole passage! He had read a few of those, as the she-wolf had called them, songs without melody. He hadn’t been particularly moved, but Atta’nha had said that every educated Sidhe, even if they were human, should know a few. Of course, he hadn’t managed to memorize them completely, but he remembered the general idea. That had been enough for the she-wolf and-

“Don’t worry,” Anna whispered to him. “You only need to memorize a small part.”

Ardi jumped.

Could she read his mind, too? No, that was silly, of course.

Just like during the previous lessons, Anna raised her hand and was immediately given the floor.

“This is the introduction to ‘A Poem of Wizards and Stars’ by N.K.” she stated, then closed her eyes and began to recite from memory:

Once upon a time, in the mountains high

Whisperers of the past did roam and fly

Through forests deep, and valleys wide

With magic right by their side

They walked the path less traveled

With spells and incantations, they did unravel

The laws of nature and bend the rules

With ancient wisdom, they were still the fools

They were the guardians of the land

And protectors of the wild strand

With their magic staves in hand

They kept the balance undisturbed and bland

But as time passed and the world moved on

Their magic faded and their kind was gone

But the stories of their deeds live on

In the whispers of the wind, in the mountains and beyond.

“Excellent, student Polskih, sit down. Anyone else?” The teacher praised her in that same blank voice, then put on his glasses, as they were called, and opened the register. “Well, if there are no volunteers, we’ll go down the list.”

For the rest of the class, the teacher tested the students. Ardi thought that everyone would recite the passages as easily and beautifully as Anna had, but besides her, only the red-haired Kenbish managed it. The others were not so great: some forgot their lines, some got confused, some recited only half of it, and some even tried to read from textbooks or notes written on the palms of their hands.

Those last two — Neviy and Faruh — were hit by Kolski with a ruler and sent to the bathroom to wash off the ink.

Then came the writing lesson, where Kolski, occasionally hiccupping, and sometimes opening his flask and sipping something colorless — but with a distinctly unpleasant odor — from it, lectured them on the rules of writing roots. At first, Ardi didn’t understand what kind of roots were being discussed, but Anna helped him understand that people divided their words into components. In short, arithmetic seemed a little easier now...

With that, the school day was over, and the students began packing to go home.

Ardi, drenched in sweat, with a buzzing head and blurry vision, somehow managed to put on his coat and pack his school supplies into his bag. Sitting in the attic, he had thought that school was something of a necessity to be endured for the sake of Erti and Shaia. After all, what could humans teach an adult hunter? But... As his grandfather had put it, Ardi was once again a newborn.

Again, just like six winters ago, he knew nothing, understood nothing, and seemed silly and ridiculous. It was frightening to imagine how today’s first day would have gone if Atta’nha hadn’t taught him a few sciences.

As he was mulling all of this over, Ardi didn’t even notice that he’d ended up outside in the company of Anna. Everything around him was already veiled in the gray film of the evening twilight and the sun was sinking behind the high peaks of the Alсade, preparing for a well-deserved rest.

“And where-”

“We tried to talk to you, but you just followed us mutely,” the girl said, looking obviously worried. “We even thought you were enchanted. Well, not all of us — Neviy and Faruh did. The only thing that can distract them from talking about guns is Star Magic. And so they decided that you were under a spell.”

Not many who knew the art knew Ardi’s true name, so enchanting him would be difficult. And what Anna had described had sometimes happened to him after Skusty’s lessons, when he’d been able to get lost in the stories of the forest and the rivers, and spend most of the day like that, but he had never been lost in his own thoughts before. Although, to be honest, they hadn’t been so abundant before.

Maybe it was time to remember Ergar’s lessons and admit that some of them were thoughts for tomorrow.

Ardi sighed, shook his head, and looked around. They were walking along a narrow path through snow-covered fields. The only source of light here were the occasional poles with those same strange glass candles like in Kelly’s house.

They stood ten meters apart, connected by black wires that were shimmering and emitting a steady, blue glow.

“I go to den. I promise mother and-”

“We stopped by your house,” Anna slowly relaxed. Wrapped in her clothes, the collar of her coat pulled up and a knitted hat pulled over her hair, she shifted from foot to foot, crunching the snow. “Madame Brian was putting Erti to bed, so we spoke to the Sheriff. He asked me to tell you not to return alone in the evening and to wait for him at our farm — you’ll meet my father and he’ll decide what work he can give you.”

Ardi frowned slightly, but then quickly reminded himself that people had different rules, and it was common for them to make decisions for their children.

Ardi sniffed the air and closed his eyes. In the distance, he could smell people, horses, domestic animals, and cattle. It was nothing unusual, but something in his hunter’s instincts made him tense.

Anna grabbed her briefcase and continued down the path.

“Shall we go?” She called out.

Ardi followed her silently, walking a few steps behind his guide as he looked at the lamps on the poles. They weren’t fueled by oil or kindling, but still bright enough to dispel the twilight that was descending on the plains.

“What this light?”

“Light? Oh, you mean the lanterns?” Anna paused for a moment, looked up, then smiled at him, just like she had in class. His heart skipped a beat again. “Those are Ley-lanterns. They work with Ley energy. It’s transmitted through wires and powers special crystal springs. I think I remembered all of it correctly... My brother told me about it. He’s the chief apprentice of a mage-engineer in Delpas.”

At first, Ardi thought Anna was teasing him. Ley Lines, as he knew from Atta’nha’s texts, were invisible magical currents hidden deep underground. They pierced the earth like rivers, carrying pure magic with them. Thanks to their existence, all beings retained the ability to remember their True Names, and an Aean’Hane was even able to speak with them.

But no matter how hard you dug — dwarves and goblins had tried — you would never find the Ley Lines. However, sometimes, the lines crossed, their currents swirled into whirlpools, and there was so much energy that it “m-a-t-e-r-i-a-l-i-z-e-d” and turned into ore or crystals. Animals that lived near such ore or inhaled that crystal dust would be infected with a dangerous disease, gaining immense strength but losing their minds.

But everything Anna had just said...

“Don’t ask me how it works. When my brother and his family come to visit, you can pester him…” Pester? Ardi didn’t want to bother anyone and... Oh, right... human figurative language. Anna added, “He was one of the people who laid the cables here when they opened the new mine a few years ago. They say not even all of Metropolis has Ley cables yet, but we do.”

They walked through the snow in silence for a while, and Ardi kept looking at the lanterns. Ley cables, crystal springs, the Metropolis, mage-engineers... There were so many new words that his head was spinning. And above all else, nothing made sense.

“Why don’t you have an analyzer?” Anna asked suddenly.

“Ana... what?”

The girl stopped and turned to him. She shifted her briefcase to her free hand and rolled up her right sleeve, revealing that same plate secured with several straps under her clothing that he’d seen on others.

“I know most adults don’t wear it,” Anna continued in a calm, measured tone. “But by law, all minors must wear an analyzer when they leave the house.”

Ardi just shrugged. He didn’t even bother to answer her because he didn’t understand the point of the question. He just pointed at the plate and asked briefly:

“What this?”

Anna looked from him to the plate, then back to the hunter, and finally understood. For the umpteenth time that day, she smiled at him... Suddenly, Ardi realized that it was the same kind of smile Shali would give him when she knew something very common and ordinary for hunters that Ardi didn’t know.

“Look,” Anna held out her hand with the plate angled toward the lantern, then pressed something on the leather strap.

Nothing happened at first, but then red symbols flashed on the plate, forming words:

<Street Lantern made by the Bri-&-Man Company.

Ley Concentration: less than one unit.

Voltage: constant.>

The message remained on the metal plate for a few seconds, then disappeared. Anna rolled up her sleeve and looked away.

“My brother tried to explain how it works, but I couldn’t remember,” she said somewhat reluctantly. “So, I won’t be able to answer your questions.”

Ardi tilted his head to the side, then smiled, then couldn’t help but laugh.

“Forgive me,” he said, pulling himself together. “You very kind human.”

“Um,” Anna replied. “Thanks... I think...”

Ardi smiled again, but quickly hid his teeth and tensed.

“I’m not afraid,” she shook her head. “I grew up on a farm, and if I was afraid of fangs, claws, hooves, or even horns, I wouldn’t leave the house. By the way, I’m curious, how do you clean your-”

Ardi twitched his ear, then quickly jumped forward, scooped Anna into his arms, and hopped to the side. She didn’t even have time to scream, she just went pale. And a moment later, a rock fell where she had just been standing.

“Are you out of your damn mind?” Someone shouted from the darkness, hiding behind the light of the lanterns. “What if you had hit her?”

“I was aiming for the non-human!”

“Then aim better!”

Ardi set Anna back down on the snow, then straightened up and focused. As he concentrated, he could make out the faint outlines of several boys in the darkness, one of whom he recognized.

By the Sleeping Spirits, they were even upwind and didn’t know the ways of the hunters at all! He could smell their scent, hear how fast their hearts were beating, and how two of the five now reeked of fear. But he hadn’t noticed them until it was too late. He had been too wrapped up in his own thoughts. A mistake unworthy of a grown hunter. If Ergar ever found out, Ardi would be licking his wounds from tail strikes for a long time.

“Percy Kenbish?” Anna peeked out from behind his back.

“Anna, go home before you get hurt.”

And the redheaded boy stepped into the light. He was still wearing his school clothes, but didn’t have his briefcase with him. He held a bottle in his right hand and a rock in his left. It wasn’t the most formidable weapon, but still dangerous. Especially when accompanied by four other boys. Two of them resembled Kenbish — their features and hair especially, only they were bigger, taller, and broader in the shoulders. And much older. The other pair… Ardi thought he had seen them during his first day as well. They went to his school too, but were in the upper grades.

“You better go home yourself before you do something stupid!” Anna shouted. “You know he’s the Sheriff’s wife’s son. Do you think Mr. Brian will let that slide? And your brothers? They’re of age. If they harm a child, they’ll be hanged!”

“If I harmed a human child, sure,” one of the redheads corrected her. “But this is a non-human. They won’t even put me on trial. I’ll just get a fine.”

Something clicked, and in the light of the lamps, a broad blade appeared.

“Have you lost your mind? His father-”

“In Delpas, we deal with his sort quickly,” the third redhead hissed, also brandishing a knife. “Forgotten your place, have you? Learning with humans in the same school? Get back to your mountains, non-human, or to the reservation up north!”

Ardi squinted. Of the five, only two made him cautious — the Kenbish brothers. Percy and the other schoolboys would flee as soon as he dealt with the two adults. But right now, he was wearing several layers of clothing that restricted his movements. His claws had been left behind in the mountains, and while his fangs and the fighting skills Guta had taught him would allow him to handle any of them, it would only be possible if he fought them one at a time. And the other brother surely wouldn’t just stand by while he wrestled with one of them in the snow.

And that wasn’t even counting their knives.

Ardi wasn’t wounded, these weren’t his hunting paths, and there were vast fields behind him. He could easily outrun them, and that was exactly what the lessons of his forest friends had taught him to do. There was no point in fighting here. Except...

Thin fingers in mittens gripped the edge of his cloak. Anna trembled slightly, hiding behind him. Sleeping Spirits, only now did he realize that he really was different from the human children. He was bigger than Anna and bigger than Percy. He was only slightly, maybe a few centimeters, shorter than the older Kenbish brothers.

“Go away,” Ardi hissed, turning back to the five. “I not want hurt you.”

The redheads exchanged glances and laughed.

“Did you hear that, Yegor? The beast can talk!”

“You call that talking, brother? Kolski makes more sense when he’s drunk!”

“Ardi,” Anna whispered, trembling with fear. “When I give the signal, you run. They won’t hurt me, and I’ll hold them off for a while.”

And then, suddenly, he understood. He understood that the girl was not afraid for herself, but for him. A small, fragile, human girl was afraid for an adult Matabar hunter.

“Hold my neck,” he whispered to Anna. “My hands not very strong. I not want drop you.”

Then he quickly turned, scooped the girl up again, and, exhaling, listened. He listened to the beating of five foolish hearts, to the howl of the wind that made the joyful snowstorm chime like crystal. In all of this, he felt the stories. Stories of paths that were not visible to the naked eye.

“Hold,” Ardi repeated.

“Hey!”

“What’s happening?”

“What’s wrong with the light?”

“It’s the beast’s doing! Get him!”

But it was too late. The wind swirled around the hunter, and Ardi tried to hold onto the images that formed in his mind. The last time he had taken Okta, it had been much easier. His heart hadn’t remembered human life, and the ground beneath his feet had been familiar, always ready to help him and lead the way.

Ardi didn’t know if he would be able to find the path to the Land of the Fae this time, so when the snowy whirlwind finally settled and they found themselves standing in the middle of a blooming field with colorful birds flying high above, the hunter sighed in relief.

“Ardi... where are we?” Anna whispered, looking around. “And what’s that... ahead?”

“Don’t look at that,” Ardi turned away from the outline of the beautiful city on the high hill. “Or we won’t get out.”

“You can talk-”

“It’s a long story,” Ardi cut her off. “And we don’t have much time. I’ve come here twice now without an invitation, and if I was considered a child the first time, I have to take responsibility for my actions now. And showing up in the Fae Lands without an invitation is a serious offense. If we are noticed, it will be bad.”

Anna just nodded slowly, and Ardi started running. He ran as fast as he could. With each step, the world around them changed. Fields turned into mountains, forests into volcanic craters that suddenly became cumulus clouds. They skimmed over the surface of lakes, where stars swam instead of fish; they leaped over stones that tried to hold them back with their grand speeches.

And so it went, until Ardi finally heard the whisper he needed in the wind. Then he stopped, turned around, and took a step back. When he opened his eyes again, they were standing on the snowy path. Above them, a lantern shimmered. And a little ahead of them, about twenty meters away, was a wide gate with an awning. The paint on the letters had long since flaked off, but they were still legible: “Polskih’ Farm.” And a small fence of meter-high posts and wire stretched from the gate in both directions.

Ardi set Anna down on the ground and paused to catch his breath. He would need to remember that he was only half as strong as a proper Matabar, and that such adventures were costly for him.

“Ardi, I-”

“A big favor, Anna,” Ardi said, still struggling to catch his breath, his words interspersed with deep inhales and sharp exhales. “Not speak anyone what happen. Not about way Fae Land, not about brothers with fiery hair.”

“But Ardi!” The girl protested. “If it hadn’t been for... what happened, they would have hurt you! We must tell the Sheriff!”

Ardi shook his head stubbornly.

“Mother worry in future. She afraid in future. I not want that… for her. A strong request, Anna. Keep secret.”

The girl lifted her head and met his eyes.

“Why did you speak clearly back there, but now you’re back to... this?”

“Many stories. Hard find… the right words.”

Anna blinked.

“If I agree to keep it a secret, will you tell me?”

Ardi nodded. Atta’nha had never forbidden him from sharing stories about the Fae and hadn’t instructed him to keep them secret from the human tribe. After all, human mages could never enter the land protected by the Aean’Hanes’ art.

“Then let’s go quickly,” Anna grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the gate. “It’s almost evening, and now we have not only arithmetic and writing to get through, but also your story! And you still have to talk to my father about work. Lots to do! And I promised my mother...”

Anna kept on talking, and Ardi walked beside her, thinking about how he had already broken the laws of the Fae twice. And something told him that the third time would not go unpunished, so maybe it would be best to avoid visiting the Fae for at least... ten years. Maybe twenty.

If there was one thing Ardi had learned from the she-wolf’s stories and books, it was that the last thing he needed was to make enemies among the Sidhe and the Aean’Hanes.

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