Dool. Edgars Auziņš

not burst from the heavens. Either they didn’t hear her, or they accepted the offering—go figure! But don't retreat? Virita, with a convulsive sigh, took the last step, tore the bandage from her palm and pressed her blood-smeared palm to the white stone.

      – Hear, Ancient One! Fulfill the request, set the price, accept the promise!

      The noise of the forest became distant, the silence rang in my ears, for a moment it seemed that the Ancient One had not come, as the old books promised, but that she herself had fallen into another world, where forgotten gods and demons live. But suddenly the silence was broken by a laugh. Completely human, so ordinary that Virita decided it was her imagination. Or did someone sneak in here after her?

      Startled by this terrifying thought, the girl turned around. Although would you really see who might be hiding among the trees in the thick twilight? For some reason, the fact that they could follow her, spy on her, was more frightening than the meeting with the Ancient One. But then a human silhouette appeared on the white slab. First – a ghostly figure, as if molded from the gray pre-dawn fog, then the fog acquired colors and a face. The green hunting suit, broad shoulders and a powerful torso, a reddish-blond beard and shoulder-length hair, desperately blue eyes became denser and became real… Virita looked at the man – there are no words, very attractive, but a very ordinary person, not some kind of demon. If you meet someone like this at a fair, on the streets of the capital, or even in a royal palace, you can look at him, but you won’t suspect anything is wrong.

      He also looked at her, carefully, appraisingly, but his gaze did not frighten her. Other suitors looked at it much worse – as if they were prey, some kind of game: either shoot it, or let it fly for now, fatten up the meat for next time…

      In the old books they wrote – offer a gift, and when the Ancient One comes, name your wish and ask how you will have to pay. It was time to speak, but Virita seemed to lose her tongue under the intense blue gaze. Only her hands froze, her cheeks burned, and the shame rolled in more and more painfully – as if she was doing something wrong, but she didn’t know what it was. And at that moment, when the silence became completely unbearable, the Ancient One suddenly appeared next to him, took him by the chin, raised his head, and looked into his eyes. His fingers were hard and hot, his touch was careful, and his gaze was heavy and dark, like basement vaults.

      “They came to me for power.” For wealth. For luck. Even for women, although this is stupid. But I don't see what you're asking. What do you want from me, mortal child?

      “Help,” Virita squeaked.

      – It is clear. Which one? What do you want?

      – I do not want to get married! – the girl sobbed. – For the one whom the father chose! He's scary!

      – Scarier than me? – The Ancient One laughed, and the forest responded with a booming echo, the hooting of owls and, it seemed, a distant rockfall. “What mortal man are you more afraid of than me?”

      Here, probably, it was necessary to either get completely scared and go into a life-saving faint, or start humiliatingly apologizing. But Virita seemed to have a rope under her tail!

      – Marriage is, you know, for life! – she blurted out. – With you, they write books, we can come to an agreement, and even if not, it won’t be any worse.

      – What kind of books are these?

      – Diaries… Notes from my great-grandfather, the noble Reyas del Bornio.

      “Oh, this…” The Ancient One laughed again, but now his laughter seemed to ring with the sound of a stream over the stones and the clatter of horses’ hooves. – OK. So you want to change your betrothed – right?

      “Y-yes…” Virita wanted to say “probably”, she herself didn’t know whether she wanted another betrothed or even freedom from a frightening marriage, or maybe something else, vague, not completely clear to her. But in some unknown way it turned out that the answer could only be “yes” or “no.”

      – How will you pay?

      And again I wanted to answer “I don’t know”, to ask what kind of payment would suit the Ancient One, but it came out against my will:

      – Anything!

      Blue eyes flashed with triumph.

      “Leave,” the Ancient One ordered. – All will be.

      She herself didn’t understand how Virita woke up in the saddle – and barely had time to be surprised, as soon as an overwhelming thought flashed in her empty head: “What have I done!” – as Kashtan neighed wildly and took off at a gallop, perhaps by the grace of the Great, not bumping into the brothers-in-law. Rushing along, not making out the road, the frightened horsewoman could only hold on with her last strength. Suddenly, in the impenetrable darkness of the night forest, a light flashed, not even light – a barely noticeable reflection. And Virita, afraid that Kashtan would carry her past and in the end would simply break his neck in the windfall, screamed desperately:

      – Save-ee-ee!!!

      Stupid. Of course, no one saved her, but Kashtan seemed even more enraged, although much more so! And why was she brought to this Ancient One?! What kind of nonsense has hit my head! Virita was sure that she was living her last moments when the lathered horse carried her out… somewhere. The bulk of a dark tower flashed from the side, moonlight reflections shone ahead, like ripples on a pond, although there was definitely no water there, and Chestnut fell, wheezing, into these reflections, throwing off the rider.

      She didn't remember anything further.

      CHAPTER 4. Guests from beyond the Border

      Before offering a horse a carrot,

      make sure he's not a cannibal!

      The chestnut horse, which a moment ago had been absolutely and undoubtedly dead, rose to its feet, shook its head and stared at Marius with burning eyes. The black mane rose up like a cloud and stayed that way. The fur darkened: it was bay with a red tint, exactly like a ripe chestnut, but it became brown, like dried blood. A deathly greenish glow appeared in the eyes.

      And the worst thing is that Marius had no idea what kind of creature this was or what to expect from it. Master Turvon didn’t talk about anyone like that.

      Whatever you say, a noble upbringing has its advantages. I desperately wanted to give up on everything and run away, but the mentor’s soul was still wandering beyond the Boundary, which meant that he needed to stay in place and keep in touch. No matter what happens. Even if a whole herd first dies on these stones, and then turns into otherworldly creatures!

      “There’s no need to play staring contest with me,” Marius muttered, proving to himself that he was doing well and generally wow, and didn’t even think about being afraid of anything.

      The horsewoman stepped with her hooves, loudly clicking on the washed stones, and snorted mockingly. Somehow it’s not just not horse-like, but even, one might say, human-like. One to one, as Aunt Amalia snorted, wanting to show her nephew without words the entire boundless depth of his stupidity. I would have punched him in the impudent face! “Mentor, come back already!” – Marius mentally prayed. And, as if this was not enough for Master Turvon! The connection twitched especially strongly, the mentor’s body rose, opened his eyes – and, just when Marius froze from horror and impotent panic, human meaningfulness returned to the empty gaze of the living corpse.

      The master caught the student’s stunned gaze and rejoiced:

      – Get used to it. This is exactly how they return from the Grani. Who else is this?! – he saw a girl lying on the stones.

      “And this is it,” Marius waved his hand at the creature baring its teeth. – The horse bolted and was killed right here, in the circle. He dumped the girl, and… here he is. First he died, and then he rose.

      Without looking any more at the unfortunate maiden, Master Turvon approached the horse. He ran his hand along his neck, as if feeling the air. He muttered something like “well, well” in response to another malicious snort. And then… the glances of Master Turvon and