black stones, but it’s too early for souls to cross the Brink, which means they should return? This means that he feels them through the connection, and all these twitchings are because instead of one soul, two went through the Mirror. Right?
Marius nodded to himself: the explanation seemed consistent, and most importantly, reassuring. You just need to not miss the connection, and the mentor will return. But then it’s time to demand that all the subtleties be properly explained! Otherwise – “ignoramus, ignoramus”… Let him teach! And at the same time explain to the girl that it is inappropriate to interfere with the rituals of necromancers. And if you are not sure that you can cope with a restive horse, then it is better not to ride alone. Especially in Oleniy Log. Especially at night. What kind of demons brought her here anyway?! I would sit at home, have fun with embroidery or something else appropriate…
The worst thing is that Marius did not know how long the ritual would have lasted without the intervention of the stranger and her horse. Searching for a soul is a matter of luck. And now at all. Should I wait quietly, or should I urgently remember what my mentor told me about uninvited guests from beyond the Border and ways to escape from them? Or not to be saved, but to be pacified, or even put into service? It all depends on who exactly shows up.
The longer the night dragged on, the more Marius wanted, if not his mentor, then at least someone to come back. If only the exhausting uncertainty would end!
Perhaps it was worth remembering that too desperate desires tend to come true down to the last letter? Exactly to the letter, and then it’s too late to go back and convince the Great Power that this is not what I wanted at all. But, honestly, Marius was not ready to see how the dead bay opens his eyes filled with otherworldly light. Yes, demons take it all, calling souls is the exact opposite of raising wights! This simply shouldn't happen!
It doesn't happen like that!
“So it happens,” he retorted doomedly to his own panicky thoughts.
CHAPTER 3. Escape and its consequences
Before concluding an agreement with the Highest,
find out the size of the penalty!
All the troubles of Virita degli Bornio were due to her gentle and refined beauty and too quiet and gentle character. It would seem – what’s bad? A girl should be soft, modest, obedient, so that her wife turns out to be gentle and docile, and beauty is a very pleasant addition to other advantages. But, as they say, too good is also not good. The appearance of an exquisite porcelain doll, childishly plump pink lips, deep pools of eyes shaded by long eyelashes, as if reflecting either the bright blue of the sky or storm clouds… Virita hated mirrors. Girls of the same age and their mothers and aunts could not stand the heiress of Vitor del Bornio, the recognized first bride of the kingdom. Young people drooled, some at her appearance, some at her dowry, tried to arouse interest, but they themselves were not at all interested in what lay behind the doll’s face and in the depths of her heavenly eyes. Flowery compliments, followed by self-interest and lust, which Virita felt even without being an empath. And the line is getting closer and closer, beyond which the father will get tired of hearing “Daddy, I don’t like him,” and he will have to become the wife of the one who is pointed at.
If only she were a little braver! So that she has the audacity to flirt with those who are interested in her, and the self-control to refuse communication with unpleasant gentlemen. But in the bright bustle of balls and receptions, Virita seemed to be in a stupor; all she could do was answer at random and smile timidly. And, as luck would have it, the most interesting young people, those who might have liked her herself, and not her dowry, pedigree, her father’s connections, found her unbearably boring.
If only my mother were alive! She would tell you how to let a young man know that you like him and win his attention back. I would teach you. One day Virita dared to ask her father for advice – and received a disastrous rebuke. “You are a worthy girl from a noble family, beautiful, rich and well-educated. Your attention is an honor and happiness for any young man. How did it even occur to you to be interested in the tricks of walking girls?!”
"Honor and Happiness"? Yes if only! No, Virita had no doubt that they would willingly take her as a wife. For wealth, pedigree, maybe even for beauty. But will they love?
Virita was angry with herself, tried to change, but nothing worked. She seemed to be living in a suffocating, viscous nightmare. If you tell anyone, they won’t believe you; they’ll say that he doesn’t value his own happiness. Is this really happiness?!
And then disaster struck: the father announced his imminent engagement. And although this did not come as a surprise to the girl, the groom did! As soon as she heard who was asking for her hand in marriage, Virita froze and sank into a chair without strength – her legs suddenly stopped moving.
– But father, he…
“He is a noble man, and he is ready to take care of your well-being.” He even insisted on security for you.
– Why security?
“Don’t be scared, these are our adult affairs,” the father said softly. – Noble families have difficult times.
He said something else, explained that a better party could not be found, that she was being honored, and Virita sat frozen, cursing her too quiet disposition. A single thought was beating in my head like a frightened bird: “What to do?!”
But in the end this nightmare ended: the father, noticing, apparently that his daughter had withdrawn too much into herself, fell silent, grabbed her arm and led her to her favorite gazebo in the garden. He kissed his forehead, sat him down, and said:
– We'll talk later if you want. I see you need to get used to the news.
And left. Virita still heard him sharply:
– Tea for the young lady! – and then a sleepy silence thickened around, broken only by the rustling of leaves, the hum of bees and the chirping of birds.
And in this silence she gradually came to her senses.
Slowly, in small sips, she drank the tea brought to her, sweet, dizzying with the aroma of linden honey and mint. Quietly, with silent steps and almost without breathing, she went to her chambers, changed her light house dress to the thick one in which she usually rode, put some necessary things in her belt bag and just as quietly went down to the backyard, to the stables. She asked, smiling sweetly at the stable boy:
– Saddle me with Chestnut. I want to clear my head a little.
There was nothing unusual in her request, Virita loved horseback riding, and her father allowed her this innocent entertainment. And he didn’t even insist on accompaniment if the daughter did not leave the meadows and copses adjacent to the estate and covered with security charms.
The chestnut accepted the usual offering – a thick round carrot that had withered over the winter – and snorted contentedly in the hostess’s face. The groom lifted him into the saddle, and Virita, as if inadvertently looking back at her father’s windows – no, she’s not looking! – she let her pet go at a light trot. She took a deep breath, catching the wind on her face. It smelled of river mud and meadow grass, young leaves and apple blossoms. Freedom. As soon as you had the strength not to break into a gallop, while the horse and rider could be seen from the windows of your home!
And only then – I didn’t hold back. There was little time – an hour, maybe two, and they would catch on.
She was lucky. Or maybe it was the higher power to which the girl hurried
