God Loves Angels. Enrike Fluence

tightly curtained windows. They crossed the table in a bright stripe and stretched across the floor towards me. By the wall, next to a tall glass rack filled with small jars and bubbles, stood a short sorceress in a white robe. Her snow-white image was in harmony with the decor of the room, with the wallpaper and seemed to fill the air with a silvery haze that I did not immediately notice her. The sorceress stepped aside, bending over her work. I heard a soft tinkle, as if she were stirring sugar in a china cup. As if hearing my thoughts, or maybe a changed breathing rhythm, the sorceress turned around. Calm and caring gaze of black eyes, a slight smile. She was overjoyed at my awakening.

      – Hello. How are you feeling? She asked.

      – Where I am? – For some reason, this is what escaped my lips. There was still a slight clouding in my head. And I was worried about what happened to me. – What happened to me? How old was I?..

      I didn’t want to call my condition fainting. I tried to sit up and immediately regretted it. The heaviness of my whole body pressed me to the sofa, and my eyes darkened.

      – For a couple of hours now, as you are with me, in the medical rooms. – The sorceress returned to her bottles and again rustled with something. – What happened to you? Hmm, better tell me your version of what happened. I’ve already heard Mrs. Wannelsker’s version. But, the truth is, firsthand is better. That way I can help you faster.

      – Uh … – I didn’t know how to address my interlocutor and had no idea what happened to me.

      – Mrs. Doyle. Sally Doyle. She seemed to read my mind again. – I am a witch doctor, nurse and doctor all rolled into one. – Softly said the sorceress. Her robes rustled as she walked to the far locker.

      «Mrs. Doyle, I was cold… then my head started spinning. – I stopped short. It is uncomfortable to admit your fears. On the other hand, I liked Mrs. Doyle, and the longer I looked at her, the more she won my favor.

      – Cold?! Mrs. Doyle repeated. – Add a warming broth. Did your ears ring?

      – It was so. I was also dizzy. I skipped lunch and didn’t have breakfast today. Maybe that’s why I had this condition?

      Mrs. Doyle came over to me, holding out a cup of sizzling liquid.

      – Hungry fainting? The nurse bent over me. – How pale you are! Drink this. It will help right away. So, take your time.

      I obeyed.

      – Can you sit down now?

      It was still difficult to sit down and hold the cup on my own. Mrs. Doyle held my palms and helped me take a couple of sips. The healing potion tasted good. It reminded me of flower tea. Although there was a hint of something tart and bitter in this drink. And it smelled like wood. I even felt sorry that there were so few of him. He reminded me of the forest near my grandmother’s house. I felt that I really want to eat. Hunger awoke with renewed vigor.

      – Well, great. Of course, you are tormented by various guesses why you fainted. But that was something else. In the lesson you were in the bathyscaph. Have you seen the underwater flower?! Of course I did. You fell under his spell. This miracle of nature has its own magic. Not everyone reacts like you. Most wizards are generally not sensitive to the enchantments of this, if I may say so, plant. Someone admires him, – I thought it was a note in the direction of Mrs. Wannelsker. Here she just fell under the spell of this monster, love. I won’t be surprised if she’s going to dive into the lake on a date with her orchidemis, unless she’s done it before!.. – and someone falls into a trance. You are very sensitive to charms. Don’t be afraid of this. This shows that you can be trained to be a good «spell finder».

      I don’t know what it is, but it sounds like a valuable profession. I felt much better. The healing drink worked. I smiled and dropped my feet to the floor. Mrs. Doyle took the empty cup and looked me over contentedly.

      – I’m right?

      – Yes. This «flower» scared me… I am hungry. What time is dinner served here?

      – At six in the evening. And you missed it.

      I was upset. I lost heart again. Now food was essential to me. Otherwise, I will lose my senses again, but from hunger.

      – You need to eat. I’ll arrange dinner for you just as well as for other students! So now drink this.

      I obeyed. The new drink turned out to be bitter. Warmth spread throughout my body, my head cleared up, the noise in my ears disappeared. I looked at Mrs. Doyle gratefully.

      – Thank you so much. I’m much better now.

      – And the cheeks turned pink. Come on, I’ll take you to the kitchen. Mrs. Doyle smiled. My stomach rumbled. I was delighted, eagerly jumped to the floor and followed my healer and savior from hunger.

      Chapter 12. Dinner for the elite

      It turns out that the castle was dim. This was partly because all the windows were covered with curtains. Partly because few lights were on. The lessons are long over.

      I followed Mrs. Doyle down an empty, dark corridor, wondering which door was behind the kitchen?

      Pretty soon we found ourselves in the large hall of the castle. Everything here was familiar to me. It was lighter, and a fully lit chandelier created a festive mood. The ticking of a huge clock in the silence gave the feeling of late night. Although I noticed behind the loosely closed curtains in the window that the sun was just setting over the forest. We went on.

      Mrs. Doyle opened a low, inconspicuous door in a dark corner of the hall, hidden behind a wide pillar, and the warm stench of the oven and boiled potatoes smelled in my face. I walked a few steps down, and a rectangle of light appeared in front of me, revealing a bright room. And in it there is a long table, filled with dishes: pots, plates, behind it kitchen cabinets up to the ceiling.

      – Good evening! Ah, Saimo-on! – Mrs. Doyle dodged a large vat flying through the air and disappeared into the mist of steam.

      A chaos of sounds reigned in the room: the murmur of water, the clinking of dishes, some hiss and murmur were heard. The air in the room was dense and humid, but in it I caught the spicy notes of spices and meat broth.

      On the right side, along the wall, were two sinks, water flowed from the taps. The dishes jumped by themselves first into one, then into the second sink. Swirling in the foam of the detergent and jumping out from under the stream of water already clean. Then the plates gave a ringing «dzin» and were stacked on the edge of the table near the shelves already filled with shiny dishes. A short young man in a long apron appeared in the kitchen. When he saw me, he froze and opened his mouth.

      He had a pleasant face. Cheekbones, emphasizing masculinity and confidence, a slightly slanting cut of live brown eyes. The young man was wearing a white cap worn by cooks. Several strands of golden hair were streaking from under the hood. He was too young for a cook. His sweaty and tired face lit up with a kind smile at the sight of Mrs. Doyle and me. It seemed to me that at that moment even pots and plates clinked louder. However, maybe it was not a game of my imagination. The magic in the kitchen, of course, was his. I marveled at such a vast and powerful force. For me, at least for now, this was an unattainable limit. And I envied the young wizard. He was three or four years older than me, and he looked such a confident magician.

      «This is Miss Burling,» Mrs. Doyle appeared behind the young man. – She needs to be fed.

      – Of course, I’ll just deal with all this! – The young man waved his hands, pointing in the direction of unwashed dishes, and rushed past me to the sinks.

      I pressed myself against the table, letting him pass. The whistling stopped and the steam cloud melted.

      «What’s your name, Miss Burling?

      – Roselyn…