Алексей Пехов: Shadow Blizzard

“I could go on, thief, but time is short. You have to steal the Horn.”

“Even so, there are too many things in your story that don’t fit,” I said. “The Horn has already been in Artsivus’s hands for more than a month. Why does it have to be tonight? He could have done everything as soon as he got it. While the city was under attack, when everybody was busy with other things and no one would have bothered him?”

“Yes, he could have used the Horn at the very beginning, but he wouldn’t have got the result that his new Master is expecting. It is only tonight that the Shadow Horse and the Rainbow Horn can be combined together.”

“I bet that your Master has known the Player was a traitor for ages. And he definitely foresaw what was going to happen tonight. Right?”

“That could be so.”

“Then, in the name of Sagot, why couldn’t I have stolen the artifact sooner? Why today? Why didn’t you tell me about this a week ago? A month ago?”

I thought I heard him chuckle.

“Then there wouldn’t have been any risk. No edge to the Game. No interest. You are the Master’s trump card. He wanted to see how well you could deal with things at the very last moment.”

The world was teetering on the edge of a precipice, and the Master was still playing his silly little games!

“Then why did Artsivus let me go? Take the leash off?”

“Don’t flatter yourself, Harold. Yes, he knows you’re a Dancer in the Shadows, but he doesn’t know a thing about your deal with the Master, and he thinks you have no idea who he is. So will you get the Horn?”

“I don’t really have much choice, do I?” I said with a bitter laugh.

“I’m afraid not. Either the Rainbow Horn has to be removed from the hands of the Player or … you simply have no idea what that magical item is capable of if it’s combined with something like the Shadow Horse! The scales of the balance will collapse, the Houses of Siala will fall, and there won’t be much left of your … that is, our world. The Game will be lost. You don’t want that to happen, do you?”

“I’m not interested in your Game. But I will try to get the Horn. What’s the deposit on the deal?”

“Your life. How does that suit you?”

“Just fine. And the payment?”

“Get the Horn, and you’ll never see me again.”

Well, nothing could have suited me better than that arrangement.

“I request Shadow Harold to accept my Commission.”

“I accept the Commission.”

“I have heard you, thief. Now, in conclusion, let me advise you to get it done before midnight. At midnight the Player will commence the ritual, and then you probably won’t be able to steal the artifact from right under his nose.”

“I doubt that I’ll even be able to get into the Tower of the Order. I can hardly expect the magicians not to ask any questions when they notice me.”

“None of the magicians are in the Tower. Artsivus has sent them all away.”

“That doesn’t change things much. I still have to get in.”

“I can’t help you there. I cannot enter the Tower of the Order.”

“Listen, what’s the point in him doing all this? Doesn’t the Master of the Order realize that after he does this, it will be the end of everything?”

“Why wouldn’t he understand? Of course he does. But there are many worlds, he’ll have somewhere to go.”

“If the Game ends, what then?”

“What then? Oh, the winner gets a prize and Game starts all over again.”

“A prize? What prize?”

“You’ve been in the World of Chaos and the shadows, haven’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Whoever wins the Game will be rewarded with one of the shadows from the Primordial World. Just imagine—with that he can create an entirely new, ideal world. And put right the mistakes committed in other universes. Victory brings the chance to create perfection and enter it in the next Game.”

As he said that, the Messenger finally stepped out of the shade into the moonlight. I started. He hadn’t really changed much since the time of my waking dream. That is, if you disregarded the fact that now the lad was as black as tar, had a pair of wings behind his back, and his eyes were golden; to look at he was still Djok Imargo.

May the darkness take all these Masters and their idiotic Games! Worlds are no more than playing cards to them. They play, and I suffer the consequences!

“What do I do once I get the Horn?” I asked with a sigh.

“Just get it. By doing that you will disrupt the ritual, and this round of the Game will end. The Player will become vulnerable, the Master will kill him, the Horn will stay with the Order, and everything will be over.”

And so saying, he flapped his wings and was gone, as if he had never been there.

It was more than an hour since the Messenger and I had parted. I had absolutely no idea of how to get into the Order’s citadel. And I didn’t know the layout of the tower. It wasn’t all that big to look at, but, remembering the abandoned tower in the Forbidden Territory, I knew I could expect absolutely anything. Tricks with space and dimensions, for instance. It could easily be much bigger on the inside than from the outside.

And then—just my luck—the gods made me remember that Kli-Kli once boasted to me about how she’d been in the new Tower of the Order and she could find any room in it with her eyes closed. She was lying! I would have sworn by the eyes of the Messenger that she was lying! But right now I didn’t have any other option.

I managed to grab the gobliness just as she was walking into the tavern where we were all supposed to meet. I had to take her to one side and ask her a few questions. Of course, she immediately smelled a rat and dug her claws into me, so I couldn’t help telling her everything. When she learned about Artsivus, she just nodded, and when she heard what the Master wanted, she decided she had to go along with me.

I tried to change her mind. I tried to reason. I argued, I threatened. I appealed to her conscience, asked her to listen to reason—but none of it did any good. Kli-Kli declared that if she wasn’t going with me, then I’d have to find my own way out of this tricky situation. What finally finished me was the claim that she knew how to get into the tower without attracting any attention. So I agreed. And really, if she wasn’t concerned about my head, why should I be worried about her? We didn’t bother our friends, just left them in ignorance in the tavern. There wasn’t any point in risking their lives in this undertaking, and swords weren’t likely to be much help anyway.

The square where the Order’s massive pale blue building stood was completely deserted and covered in snow. I shivered at the memory of the dream in which I had spoken to the Gray One.

A prophetic dream. The balance really could be destroyed. By the light of the moon and the magical lanterns, the tower seemed to be carved out of blocks of ice. The only lights inside were up on the top floor.

“Well then, how do we get in without attracting any attention?” I asked the gobliness.

“I’ll show you.”

She strolled up to the door covered with its fancy design of whirls and volutes and stopped.

“Like that.”

“Just what am I supposed to make of that?” I hissed sarcastically.

“You asked me to show you the way into the tower, and I showed you,” Kli-Kli told me without batting an eyelid.

“Kli-Kli,” I said, trying to control myself. “You’re trying to be funny, aren’t you?”

“No, I’m not being funny at all. The only way into the Tower of the Order is through that door, or did you think the magicians wouldn’t bother to close off all the other entrances?”