Cold obsidian. Olga McArrow

old man didn’t answer. He kept raving – praying, cursing, begging… but suddenly there was a glimpse of consciousness, so brief yet so bright.

      “Kill! Kill me as well!” demanded Crogan.

      “No,” the ghost shooter shook his head. His voice was icy cold, merciless. “I want you to live. And suffer, like I did.”

      That said, he stepped over the dead boy’s body and approached Vlada and Kangassk.

      “I’m Sasler,” he introduced himself. “I’ve been keeping an eye on you since you left the old road, wanted to keep you safe. Little did I know where you would lead me, kids. But I’m grateful. I dreamed of revenge for years. It feels good to be free again… Now, take the guns from the dead and be on your way. No one will hurt you any more.”

      He didn’t wait for the answer, he just turned around and walked away. Soon, he was no more than a dark silhouette in the fog. The “eye” on his rifle kept glimmering through the white veil long after he had disappeared altogether.

      Vlada and Kan left the deadly place with a heavy heart. All the way to the border of the region they kept hearing the old man’s cry.

      Chapter 3. White gloom

      The wounds didn’t let Kan and Vlada walk far, so they camped as soon as they left the Burnt Region behind them. Making a fire so close to the bandit territory was a bad idea but they needed hot water to wash the wounds, so Vlada decided to risk it.

      They made their camp at the foot of a bare hill near a chatty cold rivulet snaking between the stones. Vlada left Kan with the chargas and went to fetch water. While she was away the good-natured beasts licked the boy’s wounds as well as their own. He didn’t protest. He was unable to, being barely conscious with fever. Hyena bites are nasty.

      The travellers were lucky that burngrass, a field medic’s best friend, grew in abundance around that hill. It makes an excellent antiseptic when boiled in water. The chargas sniffed suspiciously at the cauldron with the burngrass potion. Obviously, treating them with it was out of question.

      Kangassk’s leg, the one bitten by the hyena, swelled so badly it barely fitted into the boot now. Vlada, too, hadn’t come out of the battle unscathed this time. She got a stray bullet to the shoulder. Her kevlar cloak did help a lot, but the nasty piece of lead went through it anyway which resulted in a shallow but painful wound surrounded with a darkish bruise.

      Their wounds treated, the travellers ate a cold supper and tried to sleep. It wasn’t easy. Kangassk could only guess what his companion might have been thinking about; as for him, he couldn’t close his eyes without seeing the battle again, the old man crying over the dead boy, or a dark shadow of Sasler the punisher walking through the mist, the bulging eye on his rifle glinting with every step.

      “Why did he do that to the boy? Revenge or not, that was over the top.” Kangassk muttered, his gaze wandering among the early stars in the sky.

      “Snipers are like that. They’re cruel,” answered Vlada in a strangely knowing way.

      “Who?” Kan asked again. The word was unfamiliar to him.

      “Snipers. That man invented a scope to aim and shoot from afar. He is a sniper, the only one in the world for now.”

      “How the heck do you know all these things?”

      “Experience.”

      Kangassk decided not to pursue the matter further. He felt weird. Something was definitely wrong here but he couldn’t put his finger on it. Vlada seemed as young as he was yet knew a good deal more. Was she older than she looked? It’s not that you can safely ask a girl such a question… Was she a mage? That would explain a lot. No, she didn’t look like one. A warrior’s daughter then? Possibly the only child, papa’s girl that had been given a sword as soon as she could walk.

      “Experience!” Hah! Kan would have known a thing or two about the outside world as well had he travelled instead of breathing ash and dust in his master’s workshop.

      So, nothing was wrong with Vlada after all? The weird feeling was just the fever getting into his head? There was no way to make sure.

      They stayed in the camp that day to let the hyena bites heal enough to allow the injured to walk again. While Kangassk got just one bite, chargas got at least a dozen. For the moment both were as helpless as kittens. Vlada shared the dry wayfarer meal with the brave beasts and brought them a cauldron of water from the stream. Chargas lapped up the water like cats and looked grateful.

      With three of four being in such a sorry state, it took the little group two days to reach the nearest town, Tammar.

      The locals took them for Crogan’s bandits at first. Kevlar cloaks and guns kind of suggested that. The fright quickly turned to cheer when they heard the news, though. One Crogan dead, the other retired! Unbelievable! Praises, songs, and a shower of rose petals followed. Neither Vlada nor Kan was happy about it, though.

      They gave their guns and kevlar cloaks to the town’s mayor for safekeeping. The grateful local ruler offered them food, meds, and shelter. That night Vlada and Kan slept under a roof again. Their rooms were small and simple but after all the nights they spent outdoors with mosquitoes anything with a roof seemed good enough.

      “Reading again, Kangassk?” asked Vlada. She had walked into his room so quietly he never heard a step.

      “Yeah, about that Region we’re in now,” he replied with a yawn. He was reading with all possible comfort: in his bed.

      “Anything interesting?” she smiled and sat down on the side of the bed.

      “Well, it’s the Calid Region. Known for its warm climate. Also, local magical anomalies are beneficial for soothsayers,” recited Kangassk. "Hmm… soothsayers. I saw their tents when we entered the town. Maybe it'd be interesting to pay them a visit, what do you think? Aren't you curious about the future?"

      "I'd rather not know it." Vlada shook her head.

      "But why?"

      "Not knowing what lies ahead makes life less boring, Kan."

      "Oh well, whatever you say…"

      Kan closed the book and tried to raise himself up on one elbow to get closer to the girl but the elbow sank in the soft pillows.

      "So what's the plan?" he asked with a faint hope in his voice. "Are we still taking the shortest road? No detours?"

      "No detours." Vlada nodded.

      She wore a light nightgown now instead of her usual travelling clothes. She sat on his bed, so near. All that made Kangassk wonder, "Why did she come? Does she want to stay? It would be really nice if she stayed…" His thoughts ran in circles repeating the phrase "She called me handsome!" again and again as fervently as if it were a prayer.

      "I came to check how you feel," explained Vlada.

      Kan broke into a cold sweat. Did she just read his thoughts? Was he that obvious?

      "Glad to see you're getting better," she continued. "Well, good night!"

      "I wish you had stayed with me," whispered Kan after Vlada had left the room.

      Vlada's "goodnight" didn't work. Hours had passed yet Kangassk was still wide awake, tossing and turning in his bed. He tried counting gryphons, then sheep. Gryphons were a Kuldaganian thing, he knew now that people outside the mountain ring preferred to count sheep instead, so he did. Nothing helped him calm down and fall asleep, though. He thought he had got used to being diurnal during his journey with Vlada. He was wrong. Or maybe the young warrior girl wishing him good night while wearing a thin nightgown was the reason for everything…

      Kangassk got up and sat by the window. The view was nice. Hundreds of lights twinkled below. The town seemed wide awake with the echoes of the last day's celebrations. There were happily drunk people roaming the streets, signs shone, highlighted by little lamps, merchants cried out their prices… Going for a walk suddenly