The door opened and on the threshold of the entryway appeared a young woman whom Ardi still remembered as a little girl. They shared a friendship that had, for a moment, yielded to the sense of danger still ringing in their ears—expressed in the echoes of gunshots, the clash of iron, and the gnashing of fanged wolf jaws. Entangled in their own feelings and the sensation of growing up, lost in the evening winds on the creek’s shore in Evergale. The last time Ardi had caught a glimpse of Anna was half a year ago, when he visited Delpas. Their fleeting, wordless conversation had put a period on… on… on something—whatever it was, it had put an end to it, he supposed. Now, just like then on that winter evening, Ardi felt nothing except a simple, rather prosaic joy at seeing a person he had known for so long—someone with whom he shared both happy and sad memories. Memories of a time when everything was somehow simpler, more understandable, and far more down-to-earth. Back when they worried about evening side jobs, homework, school grades, and how they stole glances at each other. In half a year Anna had hardly changed. The only difference was that she had cut her long, below-the-waist hair into a fashionable capital hairstyle barely reaching her shoulders. She wore black shoes with a low, broad heel, a brownish skirt, a wide pigskin belt, and a white blouse over which lay a dark, thick vest. Despite the onset of summer, cool winds occasionally blew in from the Blue Lake. The only change Ardi noticed in the appearance of the golden-haired daughter of the Foothills province’s largest farmer was the ring on her right finger, and also that to the rhythm of her heart—just as to the rhythm of Elena Promyslov’s heart—another echo had been added. Barely noticeable yet, but already distinctly audible. Anna was pregnant. Perhaps only a couple of months ahead of Elena. And Ardi, again, felt none of that cold, dark, unpleasant pang that he had constantly experienced upon returning from Alcade whenever he saw Kelly embracing his mother. Ardan was not jealous. On the contrary, he was happy for Anna. Anna and Ardi met each other’s gaze and smiled. In that way only people can smile who have been through what they had been through together. “Oh, Anna,” Shaia exclaimed, throwing up her hands. “My dear! I’m so glad to see you, but maybe you should be taking it a little easier on yourself?” “Mrs. Brian,” Anna said with a slight incline of her head. “There’s absolutely nothing to do at home except stare at the wall,” she added with another sweet smile, turning to the person she didn’t know. “Forgive me, ma’am…” “Orman,” the stranger introduced herself. “Tess Orman. I came with Ardi.” The young women looked at each other without any emotion—neither warmth nor cold. No nervousness or hidden feelings or resentment. Ardi realized this not from their faces, but from how calmly and steadily their hearts were beating, never once faltering in their smooth rhythm. And this despite the fact that both Tess and Anna had clearly noticed the rings on each other’s hands. “Anna Polskih,” Anna introduced herself. They both dipped slight curtsies and then stood in silence. The mute pause dragged on too long, so Ardi—sensing that he would have to take the hit himself regardless—had already started to rise from his seat when another person stepped through the door. A person whom Ard had expected to see last of all. If anyone had changed in the time that passed, it was him. He had grown broader in the shoulders, his face had toughened, and he’d acquired a relatively fresh scar running from his right earlobe all the way down to his chin, right along the line of the jaw. Ardi had seen such scars in photographs Professor Convel had shown. The Senior Magister had used some very graphic illustrations to demonstrate what could happen to an engineer if he neglected safety rules when installing blades inside a generator. If you failed to secure the pressure nut or didn’t insert the “hilt” firmly enough into the maintenance socket, then with the vibrations a blade could fly out—and since you needed to be watching the instrument’s gauge, its trajectory would go straight into the face of an engineer who’d decided not to bother wearing the special mask. The mask was heavy and stifling. After putting it on just once, Ardi immediately understood why that injury was one of the most common among engineers servicing generators. And apparently Percy Kenbish had become one of those statistics. Yes, Percy Kenbish—the red-haired, smart but cocky boy, and later youth, straight out of Evergale. He didn’t like the Firstborn, their descendants, and especially Ard Egobar. Yes, of course, compared to Great Prince Iolai Agrov, the feisty Percy and his cronies and numerous brothers didn’t seem such a problem now, but just a few years ago he had caused Ardan a bit of trouble. And not only Ardan—Neviy and his brother, Faruh, and even Anna caught their share of it. Anna even, for a time—after Olga, her former friend, chose Percy’s company—treated the redheaded classmate rather poorly herself. So Ardi could never have imagined that the matching ring this now-married girl wore would be paired with one worn by him. By Kenbish. Entering the foyer, Percy pulled off his hat and said in a respectful tone, “Mrs. Brian,” then turned to Ardi—and Ardi nearly choked. In Percy’s eyes, and even in the rhythm of his heart, one single emotion was evident: shame. Shame for what had happened back when their heads held little besides the wind. “Hello, Ard…” “Hello,” Ardi replied, a bit stunned. Silence fell over the kitchen once more. And this time it was far more awkward than the last. “Mrs. Brian,” Anna hastened to rescue the situation this time. “While my husband is busy with your generator, shall we get the paperwork filled out? You still have an active insurance policy, but the bank lately has been demanding our office provide a full set of documents for any service call request, otherwise it refuses to honor the claims. Something to do with a new law about… Oh, pardon me for tiring you with my chatter. I don’t know what’s gotten into me.” Tess shot Ardi a furtive, reproachful glance. He only gave a slight shrug. He was too shocked by what he was seeing, so for a brief moment he’d lost control of his Witch’s Sight. “Of course, dear,” Shaia said, removing her apron and draping it over the back of a chair. “Maybe you and Percy will stay? We can all have lunch together, at least.” Oh, so that’s why Shaia had been cooking so much food at once… Anna looked over at… her husband, and he, in turn, looked at Ardi. “If no one has any objections, we’d only be happy to,” Percy answered, in an odd tone—as if he were steeling himself before jumping off a cliff. “Splendid,” Shaia nodded. “Alright, Anna, the documents. Tess, dear, if it’s not too tiring for you, will you keep us company? I haven’t spent time in the company of other women for so long that I’m afraid I’m in need of a healthy dose of gossip and amusing stories.” Tess, as always, smiled warmly and replied, “With pleasure, Mrs. Brian.” Ardi simply blinked in silence, barely understanding what was happening. “Huh?” He jolted when Percy called his name. Percy had arrived in a light summer suit of cotton and linen. In his hands he held a wooden toolbox and an old pressure gauge. “You’re studying at the Imperial Magic University, right?” Percy, a little hesitant, asked, “Would you like to give me a hand with your generator? If you’re up for it, of course.” Working with household generators, nine times out of ten, required no exceptional skills, so with proper diligence (and without being intellectually clumsy) one could learn to service them in less than a year. So Percy likely didn’t actually need help. More likely, he wanted to talk. One on one. “Sure,” Ardan agreed. He and Tess exchanged glances again. When Ardi had told his fiancée his story last night—going so far as to voluntarily speak his true name—he had only briefly mentioned that Iolai Agrov was not the first bully he’d dealt with. As for Anna… he had described her simply as a childhood friend. He and Tess were no longer children, and some things they understood without words. But the fact that they understood them didn’t mean they needed to voice them. Some information was unnecessary simply because saying it aloud would be disrespectful to the other person. Ardi got up from his seat, and together he and Percy headed toward the cellar. Kenbish walked ahead, the contents of the toolbox jingling now and then—mostly screwdrivers with various heads, pliers, needle-nose pliers, a hammer, and some wrenches. Household Ley generators were designed with extreme simplicity—otherwise their mass adoption would have been simply impossible. What would be the point of offering ordinary folk something that their new, comfortable standard of living depended on, if at every breakdown they’d have to spend a hefty sum of exes on a replacement or repairs? Thus, the main expenses came down to replacing crystals, topping up the Ley-fuel, and changing out the oil pans (and the oil itself). In general, that was all it took to keep a household Ley generator of twenty red rays running—which was just enough for lighting, the stove, the refrigerator, and the heating pumps in the pipes. Yes, of course, in the multi-unit buildings of the Metropolis, far more complex and power-hungry units were used, but those were serviced by engineers with entirely different competencies, sometimes even bearing a Red Star. As soon as Percy stepped onto the concrete stairs leading down into the dark space, he automatically flicked a switch without even looking. Apparently he’d come down here more than once… Professor Convel had once theorized that outside the capital, small industrial companies deliberately produced generators that weren’t particularly reliable, so people would have to call repairmen more often. Simply because knowing that breakdowns were inevitable made citizens much more eager to purchase an insurance contract from the manufacturer. And, more often than not, those contracts brought the manufacturers more income than the generators’ sale itself. The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings. In the spacious basement, along the far wall, stood shelves filled with jars of pickled foods. A few iceboxes held cuts of meat. There were crates of potatoes that still hadn’t run out from last season, and several racks of roots and other root vegetables that were hardy enough not to spoil in the underground coolness. No fish was stored here, given Delpas’s geography. It was much easier to buy fish at the market than to keep it in a cellar, constantly fighting the less-than-pleasant smell. To the right stood cabinets of tools and a worktable on which Kelly had left a plane, a chisel, and—judging by the look of it—a blank for a new cutting board. By old Evergale habit, the former sheriff saved money on any household goods he could craft himself. They found the generator over on the right. A metal box weighing about half a hundred kilograms, roughly knee-high to Ardi, with three dials—the combustion chamber pressure, the oil level, and the fuel level. Several pipes ran into it, containing the Ley wiring. At right angles those pipes ascended into the ceiling, where they disappeared into the structure of the floor above. “The house was built under the new regulations, so the wiring runs through the walls and ceiling,” Percy explained for some reason. He approached the generator and—moving with practiced ease—set his toolbox on a stool, took out a hefty screwdriver, and began loosening the screws holding the crystal compartment cover. Clearly, he had no need of assistance. “But it was built properly. We tested the wiring when we installed the generator. There are even safety lines, and a fuse in place. Can you imagine? A fuse. Two of them, actually—one for each floor.” Ardi raised his eyebrows, mildly surprised. Fuses prevented Ley short-circuits, which could lead to the most unpredictable consequences. Free Ley, when it came into contact with matter, could alter that matter’s properties and, for example, bring down a section of wall—turning brick into sand… or into glass… or set it ablaze… or make it become gas. That last was the most dangerous outcome of all. Matter altered by Ley, if the process wasn’t irreversible, would eventually return to a stable state—regaining its original properties. Sure, a brick transformed into gas would never turn back into a brick. But it might very well become brick dust or fine grit. And a person who had breathed it in wouldn’t even notice. Until they died from the lung damage. So fuses had appeared on the market, developed—no surprise—by the Bri-i-Men company. They worked on the principle of free accumulators, sucking in any stray Ley that got loose. They cost almost as much as the generators themselves. Incidentally, Aversky got a percentage from those as well, albeit a minimal one. Because, as you might have guessed, the core of the fuse’s mechanism relied on the same property that the Grand Magister had patented in creating his testing grounds. Ardi recalled all this from lectures and reading on Star Engineering—mostly just to keep himself occupied while Kenbish rummaged with his tools. Percy unfastened the collector clamps holding the crumbled crystal, then very carefully—after first donning a heavy steel mask—began unscrewing the nuts on the blade mounts. Ardi, wisely, stood not behind his old acquaintance but off to the side. “You know my family moved to Evergale from Delpas, right?” Percy asked suddenly, stowing the warped blades in a special pouch. It wasn’t a common malfunction, but not exactly rare either. (I wonder what the Second Chancery did with Paarlax’s generator (the one that ran without blades), whose enlarged copy the Spiders used for their contraption…) “I know, Percy,” Ardi answered. Kenbish snorted and began selecting spare blades from his kit. “My father was invited to lay wiring in a new mine in Alcade. It was supposed to be a posting for a few years… but it’s dragged on almost a decade now. They’ll probably stay out there—my folks and my older brother—and we, well, we came back here. I always wanted to work with machinery, so when I heard that Anna’s brother’s company had an opening for an apprentice technician, I put in my papers right away. And it worked out for me.” Ardi stayed silent. Percy was opening up to him not because of the Witch’s Sight, but simply because he wanted to. “When we were kids, everyone hated the Firstborn, Ard,” Percy continued, fitting the new blades into place. “That doesn’t excuse me one bit, but… that’s what I was taught. To hate your kind and—” “Percy, listen, don’t take this the wrong way, but I don’t have much time with my family, and I’m not really sure what you’re trying to tell me.” Kenbish sighed, set his tools aside, removed the mask, and sat down on the floor, leaning his back against the generator. “I want to apologize. But I don’t want you thinking I’m doing it just because I grew up, wised up, and now I’m ashamed.” “Up to now, it sounds like exactly that,” Ardi observed. Percy’s lips curved in a sad smile. “After I finished my training, my first service call turned out to be here. Seventeen Masons Street. Anna hadn’t started working in the company office yet… Anyway, I arrived and immediately sensed something off. And then Kelly opened the door. He was surprised. And so was I. Only the Eternal Angels know which of us was more surprised.” Percy smoothed his hair back and lowered his gaze to the floor. “I thought about turning around and leaving. But I didn’t. I didn’t want to lose my job. I stayed. Your mother offered me tea, and I said something—I don’t even remember what. Then I went down to the basement. I was as angry as a hungry demon. Thinking—just look how unfair life is. I’m living in a rented room in the industrial zone, barely scraping by, and you…” Percy clearly swallowed a different word—a word he used to call Firstborn when we were kids. “...and you people have everything. It felt so unfair… And I screwed up. “It sliced me up good. A blade got stuck in my neck. I barely remember what happened. I just remember your brother holding me. Ert was pressing his hands against my neck and the wound—using his own shirt to clamp it. And shouting for help. So loud. Louder, probably, than normal people can shout. And I remember,” Percy ran a hand through his hair, dishevelling it, “Kelly standing on the stairs, just silently watching us. For five seconds, maybe ten. You get it? He was deciding whether to call someone or let me…” Ardi was not surprised. Kelly Brian was a man suffused with the winds of the steppes and the mountains. To a modern resident of the Metropolis, he might seem harsh and uncultivated, but life in the Foothills province—where civilization bordered on savagery—had made him that way. Its inhabitants lived on that peculiar borderline, acquiring the qualities that allowed them to survive. Ardan was not at all surprised that the former Sheriff didn’t immediately rush to help. Nor was he surprised that Erti—who had also suffered at the hands of Percy and his toadies—didn’t hesitate even for a second about what needed to be done. “Anna’s brother came to visit me in the hospital, and she came along with him, so that’s how I found out she’d moved here too,” Percy went on. “She’s studying at the college to become an engineer. Can you imagine? The first woman at the State College of Delpas to win a Crown-sponsored spot in Non-Star Engineering.” Yes. Anna was smart. And she’d always been excellent with numbers. “I, for one, didn’t manage to get a sponsored spot. So… I’ve been saving up for a year now to pay for tuition. I’m afraid to take a loan from the bank—I don’t want to end up in a debt trap if something goes wrong.” Ardi had remained silent this whole time. He simply had nothing to say. “And then Anna started working in accounting, we spent more and more time together and… well, one thing led to another, Ard…” Percy mussed his hair again, got to his feet and looked Ardan straight in the eye. “I’m sorry for all the… all the shit I said to you. To your face, behind your back. I acted like a complete bastard. Like some disciple of those Tavser scumbags… Forgive me… Eternal Angels,” Percy turned away and picked his tools back up. “I’m so ashamed, my cheeks are burning. Like a little kid. I thought it would be easier… somehow, to say it all. I ran through it in my head.” They fell silent again. Or rather, Kenbish fell silent, since Ardi still hadn’t uttered a word. He was just listening to the way Percy’s heart was hammering. And it wasn’t because Percy was lying. No—the redheaded boy who’d grown into a young man didn’t reek of lies. It was more a scent of nervousness and, indeed, shame. Kelly… Percy Kenbish… Leia Morimer… Ildar Nalimov… why are people always so complicated. “How long have you been married?” Ardi asked suddenly, not entirely sure why. “The wedding was on the fourth day of the Month of Stars.” “You know she’s pregnant?” Percy whipped around, eyebrows raised in surprise. “And how do you know that? We haven’t told anyone yet. We only just found out at the doctor’s. Anna was complaining of strange symptoms. One minute she’d be hot, the next cold. Like a fever.” “Matabar hearing,” Ardi said, tapping a finger to his ear. “I can hear your baby’s heartbeat.” Kenbish gulped noisily. “You can hear… it beating?” he repeated, then flinched to the side. “And mine… you can hear mine too?” “Damn… sorry, I just… I mean… can you always hear it?” Nᴇw ɴovel chaptᴇrs are published on 𝕟𝕠𝕧𝕖𝕝·𝕗𝕚𝕣𝕖·𝕟𝕖𝕥 “It’s like the noise of a city. If you listen for it, you hear it distinctly, but if you don’t, it blends in with everything else.” “I see,” Percy mumbled. And silence fell once more, barely colored by the sounds of the house above: the creak of walls and floorboards, the faint howl of wind in the flue, and the muffled echoes of conversation on the first floor. “Is it true that you’re one of the top students at the Grand University?” Percy asked suddenly, then immediately added, “Erti bragged about your achievements a couple of times.” Erti… Ardan had no doubt that Erti would have proudly shared that fact. The fact that his younger brother had saved Percy’s life—which clearly had caused something to click in Kenbish’s red-haired but not entirely dense head—didn’t change the fact that Ert would be milking it for a while. Why was Ard so sure of that? Because at Ert’s age, if not for the teachings of the forest beasts, he himself would have behaved exactly the same way. “Depends on your perspective, Percy,” Ardan answered evasively. “You know, I envy you so much—studying at the Grand. A future Imperial Mag… life in the capital… damn, Ard. I’d give a lot to have that life. And I’m sure I’m not the only one.” Ardan almost said that if Percy knew all the details, he’d likely change his mind, but he held his tongue. Kenbish, like Iolai, didn’t truly get under his skin. They were like two annoying little “problems” one could usually ignore and avoid altogether. Anna was—and Ardi hoped still is—his friend. A grown woman capable of making her own choices. And she had made her choice. She and her father, who surely was overjoyed to marry his daughter off to a Kenbish rather than an Egobar. “Percy, you’re not stupid.” Kenbish looked up at him. “You know, I never really felt anything about you,” Ardan said bluntly, seeing no need to choose his words carefully. “Your words never hurt me. I didn’t care. So you’re feeling ashamed in front of yourself, not me. Which means you wouldn’t be unloading all this on me, given that you’ve already forgiven yourself and even found a justification for why you acted like you did. And no, I’m not dismissing the environment you grew up in. Believe me, in the Metropolis there are far more rabid followers of the Tavsers. And plenty of Firstborn who hate humans just for being human, too. And, as I mentioned, I don’t have much time. So please, get to the point.” Percy sighed and tightened his grip on the screwdriver. “Anna… when we… when… she was no longer…” Kenbish turned aside and couldn’t finish the sentence. Instead, he asked the question. The one question that was the real reason we were down here. “Was it you?” Which meant Percy actually knew nothing. “Anna won’t tell me anything. She says it happened by her own initiative, but… what if… what if someone took her by force. And she won’t admit it. You understand?” Ardan could feel how fiercely Percy’s heart was beating. He could smell the sweat beading on Kenbish’s palms. He could see how the man’s pupils quivered. This thought was eating Percy alive from the inside. Percy hadn’t lied when he said he envied Ardi. And Anna had a bright, lively mind—and a woman’s wisdom. Enough to know that if she told the truth, the truth that her first man had been Ardan, it would push Percy into an abyss. Not right away. Not in the first years, maybe. But one day… Apparently Anna had become pregnant before their wedding. Perhaps she’d even learned about it before the wedding. And so she couldn’t answer that question at a time when the answer might have changed something. It was already too late. And so Ardi gave the only answer possible. The answer Skasti would have given. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, Percy.” Because Percy truly hadn’t provided any specifics and could have meant anything at all, Ardi wasn’t lying. He simply said what Kenbish wanted to believe. What he wanted to believe with all his heart and soul. And that’s why Percy exhaled and seemed to calm down a little. “Maybe it was one of those guys who came for the festival back then… when your house burned down because of a broken lamp.” The house burned down because of a broken lamp? The Black House had concocted such a simple story? Then again, as Ardan had come to realize, the simplest story usually works best. “You don’t hold a grudge?” Kenbish asked, lifting his gaze. Ardi just gave a small shrug. “Percy, honestly, it doesn’t matter to me. You were a kid taught to hate the Firstborn. You put it perfectly—they taught you that. I was taught what I was taught too, and I’ve already run into some problems because of it. So if you want my forgiveness to make life easier on yourself—by all means. With all my heart, I forgive you.” Percy regarded him silently for a moment, then breathed out in relief. Ardi once again—he’d lost count how many times—shrugged. “Let’s get this generator sorted out, have dinner with everyone, and then get back to the blueprints.” Ardan narrowed his eyes. “Blueprints?” Sleeping Spirits… He had hoped to hear some other answer. Any other answer. But if you think about it, a loading station handling hundreds of kilograms of Ertaline must have some complex technical equipment. “Yeah, Anna’s brother and I are being sent on a work trip the day after tomorrow. Not very far from here—just a loading station. We have to help the army with some equipment. Pays really well… and… why am I even telling you this? Eternal Angels, it’s just because I got nervous,” Percy said, pulling the mask back on and returning to his work. “Please, don’t tell anyone. This is confidential information.” “You say something, Ard?”