The Mist and the Lightning. Part VI. Ви Корс

he also understood that he didn’t have to go to Nikto, no way! And he could not help but go.

      Chapter four

      Visiting

      Lis was walking down the hall when he saw Tol. Involuntarily Lis pulled himself together, looking around, however, he immediately relaxed. Firstly, there was absolutely nowhere to hide in an empty and straight corridor. It was too late to look for the unlocked door. Secondly, Lis even wanted to meet someone who could distract him from these endless exhausting thoughts. Of course, the very last he wanted to meet this morning was Tol. But he didn’t have to choose. Tol could distract him. Hold up. Get lost in thought. Yes, anything just to prevent Lis from reaching where he was heading. And it was a chance.

      Seeing Lis, Tol sincerely rejoiced, waved his hands so that he stopped and waited for him. And Lis stopped. And already for this he was grateful to the idiot Tol, and was ready to listen to his next nonsense.

      “I brought the meat!” Tol cried joyfully, from afar. Spreading hands, as if wanting to hug Lis, grab him, like welcoming a friend. Lis recoiled, rather abruptly. Tol obediently stopped, and stood in front of Lis as if rooted to the spot, shining with his narrow deep-set eyes. One eye is brown, and the iris of the second is half brown and half green.

      “I brought the meat,” he repeated joyfully.

      Lis didn't give a damn about the meat. He didn’t understand what this moron was talking about to him. He didn’t give a shit about meat and Tol, and generally about everything except… And Lis asked:

      “What kind of meat?” In the soul he was cursing Tol and thanking him at the same time.

      “Meat for barbecue!”

      “I see, get the hell out of here,” Lis thought, and said: “Where did you get it?”

      “The owner of Backara gave it to me! After all, today is a holiday, do you know?!”

      Yes, yes, Lis was in the know of some regular religious holiday of “blacks”, “Spring Day” or “Day of some sacred tree”, or “Some kind of a motherfucker day”. There is only one meaning, endless sacrifices and donations to temples, and universal blessed fun. Lis didn't give a shit.

      “Yes, of course I’m in the know.”

      “Well! How many times have I asked Arel! The weather is warm! We must get out, if not to the river, so at least sit in the garden. Fry meat!”

      Yes, Lis remembered it, Tol has been mumbling about it to Arel for the past week. Arel sent him to hell. And he did it right. Tol generally needs only to be sent to hell. “Tol, fuck you!”

      “Do you want me to help you persuade Arel?”

      “No!” Tol rejoiced. “I have already persuaded him! He allowed everything! Tonight we will have a barbecue! I already ordered the cook and servants to pickle it in the kitchen!”

      “But won’t they themselves devour it?”

      Tol looked at Lis a little surprised, then laughed: “Good joke!”

      “Do you think they will not eat it? What a joke! Or now only human meat should be given to them? Legs of beautiful young girls…”

      “And what kind of meat?”

      “Lamb! Lamb, still very young!” Tol sincerely rejoiced and answered Lis, not noticing either his sour appearance or his absent glance. He believed that Lis was really interested. It just could not be not interesting! And no matter what Lis was a narcissistic and arrogant type, not seeing anything around, except for his beloved person, THIS should have been interesting even to him. Tol didn’t doubt it.

      “Lamb?” “Yes!”

      “And legs too?”

      “Legs?! No, why the legs! Al! You don’t understand anything in barbecue, legs don’t go for barbecue. Legs are possible if only in aspic…”

      And Tol delved into the subject. And Lis stood and thought that only Tol, and only between them, calls him Al. Shortens his surname – Alis. Because they are paired. Because he insures Lis in battle. Covers him. And sometimes she shouts loudly and quickly to him during a fight. Apparently “Al” is easier for him to shout out than “Lis” or “Alis”.

      “Al, right!”, “Al, how are you ?!” “Like shit, my dear Tol. Like shit.”

      Tol has already completed an excursion into the jungle of cooking, and now he was staring at Lis, he was surprised that he never interrupted him and didn’t tell him to fuck off. But the truth was that somehow he

      quickly finished, he could have screwed longer. And Lis would have listened, stand there. Damn, Tol can’t even say anything long and tedious, well, what a blockhead! What to ask?!

      “And the weather is not very good, Tol, it seems like it’s going to start raining?”

      “It is going to, but it hasn’t started! And when it start, nobody knows! It’s normal weather! Don’t worry! Everything will be just at its best! Listen up!”

      And Tol still grabbed him, hugging with one hand:

      “I'll tell you such a thing now! About Lila! By the way, I invited her! We can arrange a really good time this night! Come, come to my place, I’ll tell you everything now! This is something!.. You just get fucked when you find out!”

      “He was not even surprised that I was going after him,” thought Lis, doomed, “he considers me his friend. And judging by how all this is offered to me, he considers me his equal. Congratulations, Al!” Lis grinned bitterly.

      He didn’t want to go to Tol and listen to some dubious vulgarities about Lila, he didn’t want to. But even more he didn’t want to go to him… Well, of the two evils, as you know, they usually choose the lesser.

      Asa only grunted when she saw them on the threshold. Her next puppy, barked and rushed around. Lis realized that she, unlike Tol, noticed changes in his appearance. Noticed and appreciated.

      “You look good!” She said, in “black” language, with a terrifying accent. In her performance, it sounded like: "You rook grood." Why do they always add these damn “g” and “shh”! Soft sounds don’t seem to exist at all for them. Vowels are also a problem.

      Asa sat down by the mirror to preen. Well, at least she understands what kind of guest made them happy with his presence. Tol thundered with bottles, and at the same time with no less enthusiasm, as if he had just not told Lis, he began to share his stunning news with Asa:

      “It will be an unbelievably tasty barbecue! You will swallow your tongue! I ordered to add to the pickle…”

      “To the marinade, moron!”

      “Can you imagine how fucking great it will turn out! Real jam!”

      Lis sat in an armchair. Pictures of naked girls were hung on the walls in Tol’s room (on one of the pictures, the girls washed themselves in a bathhouse – and very naturalistically). Over the table hung a cheap

      portrait of Jazmina, a singer popular in the “Lower”, bought at the fair. And above the fireplace, there were framed sheets with clever sayings:

      “In the bowels of black, tri-color is born – black, white and red!” “Only black is true color, and the rest origin from it!”

      Further, the logical conclusion followed that the “blacks” were the true progenitors of all mankind. Probably such “true blacks” as Arel. At first there were only them. And only then, from them, “whites” appeared, or rather, according to the logic of the writer, “whites” are the same “blacks”, only in a slightly