No Way Out at the Entrance. Дмитрий Емец

muttered Guy. “Where did you get this?”

      “Kavaleria’s office. I copied while she searched for books on horse breeding,” the hdiver said dejectedly.

      Guy narrowed his eyes. “But why didn’t you say so immediately? Ah yes! Always it, the unquelled inner voice!” The youth turned away.

      “Now about something else. Did you do what I asked?” Guy asked insinuatingly.

      “Sweatshirt” began to nod in a hurry. “I tried! At night with a crowbar I tore the roof off the beehive and tried to steal the queen bee. It was difficult because Gorshenya was stomping beside me. It tried to hamper me. It mumbled, muttered, pushed me away, shielded the beehive! I was risking my life!”

      Guy yawned. “You were risking nothing. Gorshenya swallows only those it likes. It’s absolutely harmless to others! Did you do everything I ordered?”

      “Yes. I fumigated the bees with that gunk you gave me so that they wouldn’t protect the queen. I almost puked!”

      Guy frowned. “Now-now, young man! Choose your words more carefully! What gunk can there be in the hair of a witch buried alive exactly ninety-nine years and nine months ago? Well, possibly Beldo mixed it in too much hydrogen sulphide. But he wanted it better!”

      “Please forgive me!”

      “To forgive is not my department. The bees did not protect it?”

      The youth shook his head. “No. But I couldn’t take the queen! Radiance surrounds it. I touched it and it burnt my hand. I was barely able to discard the crowbar. It melted.”

      Guy was saddened. “This is bad. Although I assumed something similar… So, my dear, today you came with empty hands. Didn’t reach the queen bee. You can only steal up a few steps to the marker in the Green Labyrinth… On the whole, either you’ll make me happy with something special right away or you’ll be left without a reward.”

      The youth was frightened. “In June… or at the end May… a newbie appeared in the guild. Without a bee!” the youth blurted out and looked pleadingly at him.

      “This is interesting,” Guy generously admitted. “And who’s the newbie? Got a name?”

      “Rina… She brought a hyeon!”

      The corner of Guy’s mouth trembled. “Good start! Can’t bring a bee, bring a hyeon… Where did she get it?”

      “They say an adult hyeon whelped right by the fence of HDive, and the warlo… oh…” the youth stopped short, after feeling how the hands of those holding him hardened. The word “warlock” is exclusively hdiver. It was necessary to find another urgently as a replacement, but his thoughts got tangled up from fear.

      “The courageous rider of the hyeon. This is what you wanted to say?” Guy prompted with understanding. “He was obligated to either shoot the young or take it with him. But not to discard it… Arnaud, tell Till! Let him sort it out.”

      The secretary made a note. An ideal secretary. Obliging, forgetting nothing, surprised by nothing. Ordered to kiss, he will kiss. Ordered to cut the throat, he will cut the throat. Ordered to kiss and cut the throat as well, he will do even this, moreover without a reminder and in the time indicated. Smoothed-over forelocks, a timely smile. He was a person surprising even for Guy, who was a good judge of scoundrels.

      Once, not being able to resist and having taken the marker at his first dive, Arnaud cut heaven off himself, and so successfully that not even a scar remained. Now everything outside of the scope of his own body, his safety, comfort, and pleasures, was for Arnaud nonexistent. To obtain the maximum happiness, including happiness from juggling the fates of others, and to become clay. But he considered this period non-essential.

      Where is Queen Cleopatra now? Did her beautiful body not become brick in some Egyptian cow shed? Is the French king Louis not eaten by worms, pecked by a bird, eaten by a fox, into which flies lay their larvae? On the whole, live in style, and your fly will come flying after you… Only one thing did not give Arnaud peace – Duoka. Why is this world empty? For whom?

      “Bring the berserker’s head?” Arnaud clarified.

      “Why?”

      “Well, what do you mean why? Till for sure will propose it.”

      “Work situation. Let Till sort it out himself,” Guy made a face.

      “It’s still not grown, a pup. But lets itself be held. True, only by the owner. The others, no,” the young person in the sweatshirt continued ingratiatingly.

      Guy frowned. “You yourself saw this? That it allows being held? Without a muzzle? Without something attached to the neck? Without electric shock?”

      “Haven’t seen it myself. Our people described it. Unable to bring the hyeon onto the grounds of HDive. They hide it somewhere.”

      “Who are they?”

      “Rina, Athanasius, Ul, well and all the others with them,” the hdiver instantly responded.

      Guy winked at him with a deathly pale eye, in which the reflection of a lamp was floating like the moon in a puddle. “Others with them? Broadly said. So, you’re not with them?” he said merrily.

      “Well, they trust me, but I…” the youth began uneasily.

      “I don’t care about your ‘I’. Kill her!” Guy interrupted.

      The fellow in the sweatshirt was uneasy. “Who? Rina?” he asked, startled.

      “For the time being, the hyeon,” Guy politely set him straight. “Find it and finish it off! I advise you to hurry. It’s approximately three months old. That’s the age when a hyeon usually takes wing. This one’s growing without a mother; therefore, possibly, it’ll take wing a little later. But all the same must hurry.”

      The youth moved his eyes frantically. He did not intend to go so far. “Why? Perhaps I’ll simply find a place, and you’ll… well on the whole… take it away? Let it serve you,” he began to babble.

      “It’s of no use to us. A hyeon that trusts someone is a freak. And freaks must be destroyed. Do you agree with me?” Guy’s voice tinkled slightly.

      “Y-yes,” hurrying, the youth said.

      “Let him go!” ordered Guy. The hands holding the hdiver unclenched.

      The berserker looking like Grandfather Frost mockingly straightened his sweatshirt. “Don’t forget to clean up! And here, you’ll have to find a new lace for your trinket,” he said, returning the clms.

      “One more thing!” recalled Guy. “About the hmm-m… Gorshenya. You said it interfered with you at the beehive. What does it generally do in the Labyrinth?”

      “Don’t know. It often hangs around there. Especially if the moon is out,” said the hdiver.

      “And when there’s no moon?”

      “When there’s no moon it goes off to the park and disappears there till morning.”

      “Strange,” Guy drawled. “Why go to the shady park on moonless nights, where you’ll see little even with the moon? If it wants to frighten or catch someone, enough to stand up by the path, which leads to the stable.” “Sweatshirt” looked at him with surprise, not understanding how the geography of HDive was so well known to him.

      “Follow Gorshenya! Where it goes, why!” ordered Guy. “I want to know what it does each second of a moonless night. And try this with the bees!” He, not looking, stretched out his hand and immediately the attentive secretary put in his hand a small glass jar. Something similar to milk separated by water was splashing about inside. “Grease the roof of the beehive with this. Well, and other places where the bees rest. Only a thin layer. And use gloves. The poison is very dangerous,” said Guy.

      The youth stretched out his hand and, having touched Guy’s dry finger for a moment, fearfully took the jar. “Bees are immortal. What have our novices not done with their bees!” he warned almost joyfully.

      The