Алексей Пехов - Shadow Chaser

The river hissed and snorted in alarm, its calm waters heaved and spat out steam and then swallowed up the remains of our companion.

“Hmm…,” said Deler after a short silence. “I’d like to be buried so…”

“Beautifully,” Hallas concluded for him.

“We have a belief that when an elf dies in battle, a new star lights up in the sky,” said Egrassa. “Foolish, but beautiful. Ell deserved his star.”

“Like all those no longer with us,” Alistan replied. “Let’s go back to the castle, it’s late.”

And the river flowed on as quietly and lazily as ever, with nothing to show that a few minutes earlier it had swallowed up the remains of a funeral pyre.

“Harold, this is yours.” Kli-Kli jabbed one finger at a sack with two shoulder straps that was standing beside my bed.

It was barely dawn outside, but the group was already up. Zagraba was waiting for us, and I had a chilly feeling of anticipation in my belly. But whether what was coming was good or bad, I couldn’t tell.

“What’s in it?” I asked, fastening on my crossbow.

“Your things. Blanket, rations, and a few odds and ends. I took the liberty of transferring all this junk from your saddlebags, plus a few things from the general heap…”

“Who asked you to do that?” I asked in a threatening voice.

“Oh, Harold,” Kli-Kli said dismissively. “No need for gratitude, I got up a lot earlier than you, so it was no bother for me.”

“Kli-Kli, don’t pretend to be more stupid than you really are. Why did you empty the bags?”

“Because you won’t carry them on your back. You’re not a horse, are you? It’s easier to walk through Zagraba with a sack. The trappers and a few hunters who dare to go into the forests take exactly this kind of sack with them.”

“Mmm…,” I began warily. “Kli-Kli, I thought I heard you use the word ‘walk.’ Did I mishear?”

“Not at all, that’s right, I said ‘walk.’ The horses are staying at the castle.”

“What!”

“Harold, I can see that you’ve never gone roaming through a forest before,” Kli-Kli chuckled, tightening the knot on his sack. “Just you try galloping through fallen trees, bogs, and darkness knows what else on a horse. It’s no fun. We’re going on foot. The elfess says that from here to Hrad Spein is exactly seven days’ march. That is, one week. The entrance to the burial chambers is in the Golden Forest. If the gods smile on us, we’ll soon be there.”

It was surprising, but I didn’t want to leave Little Bee. After a month and a half of traveling, I couldn’t imagine how I could get by without my own horse. And now I would have to wear my legs out dragging a massive load around on my back.

I didn’t really believe that Kli-Kli had packed my things properly, so I turned the contents of the sack out onto the bed. It would have been just like the goblin to slip five weighty cobblestones in with my things out of the sheer goodness of his heart. Sagot be praised, there weren’t any cobblestones, but I did find a stack of useless heavy things.

“What are you doing?” Kli-Kli asked, watching skeptically as I set the superfluous things aside.

“Sparing my back unnecessary suffering,” I muttered, tossing away a cast-iron cooking pot.

The pot was followed by a collection of assorted cutlery, a candlestick and candles, a ball of string, a hammer, two pairs of boots, spare chain mail, and all sorts of other miscellaneous nonsense. When I was through, the sack was a lot lighter. Now I could take it on a journey with an easy mind, without being afraid that I might suddenly break down at the wrong moment.

“All that hard work for nothing,” Kli-Kli sighed mournfully.

“You don’t have to carry it, so don’t whine,” I said, packing the blanket.

“Let’s get a move on,” said Hallas, glancing into the room. “It’s time.”

“Let’s go and say good-bye to Honeycomb,” said Kli-Kli, and skipped out through the door.

On the way we ran into Lamplighter. The Wild Heart was pale and the welt on his forehead looked terrible, but he was perfectly steady on his feet.

“So you’re still alive, then?” Kli-Kli asked the warrior sympathetically.

“You can’t bury me yet, fool,” Lamplighter said with a crooked grin, and then frowned at the pain. “I still intend to get back to the Lonely Giant. Are you on your way to Honeycomb?”

“Yes, do you know where he is?”

“Yes, I’ve just come from there. Go out of the tower, across the courtyard, in at the door on the left, up the stairs to the second floor, and it’s the third door on the right.”

“Thanks. If Alistan comes looking for us, tell him you haven’t seen us. Come on, pick up those feet, Harold, time’s passing!”

Mumr gave me a pitying look—when Kli-Kli gets his hooks into someone, no power on earth can shake him off.

We found Honeycomb’s room without any trouble. In one night the warrior had lost as much weight as if he hadn’t eaten anything for a month, and he had changed from the husky giant of a man we all remembered to a skeleton. A bundle of bones wrapped in parchment skin that looked ready to split apart, eyes with a feverish glow, yellow hair that looked as if it had been bleached by the sun. If I didn’t know it was Honeycomb on the bed, I’d have thought I was looking at an old, old man. The orcs’ shaman had done a really good job, and if Miralissa and the Border Kingdom magician hadn’t been there to help him, our comrade would have been lying in his grave alongside Marmot.

When he saw us, he gave a weak smile.

“How are you feeling?” squeaked Kli-Kli.

“Rotten,” Honeycomb chuckled. “I managed to get in the way of that shaman’s free handout.”

“Don’t worry about that. The main thing is that you’re still alive.”

“Thank you, Harold, that’s a great comfort,” he snorted in reply. “Deler let slip that Marmot and Ell … Is it true?”

“Yes,” I answered.

“Well then, in that case, I really did get off lightly. You’re leaving, I see.”

“Yes,” Kli-Kli said with a quick nod.

“It’s a pity I won’t be able to go with you,” Honeycomb sighed.

“Don’t worry about that, you just get well,” Kli-Kli said fussily. “Look, I brought you this, so anyway, recover.”

Kli-Kli took a large ripe apple out from under his cloak and put it on the table beside Honeycomb’s bed. Then he thought for a moment and added a carrot to it.

“From the heart.”

“I know, Kli-Kli,” Honeycomb said with a serious nod. “You’re a good lad.”

“Of course I am,” the goblin said with a grin. Then he gave me a mischievous glance, leaned right down to the warrior’s ear, and whispered something to him.

Honeycomb’s eyes opened wide and gaped at the goblin in surprise.

“I’m not lying,” Kli-Kli said, perfectly serious. There were demons of mischief dancing in the jester’s eyes.

I don’t know where Honeycomb got the strength, but he suddenly burst into raucous laughter:

“What a hoot! Well … and no one knows?”

“Na-ah.” The goblin grinned.

“What are you talking about?” I asked, bemused.

“Oh, nothing. We’re just, you know…,” said the goblin, baring his teeth in an idiotic leer.

Honeycomb started laughing even louder. Mmm, the goblin’s really in top form today.

“Will you look after him?” I asked, taking Invincible off my shoulder and putting him on the table beside the carrot, which immediately attracted the ling’s interest. “He’ll be a lot better off here than in the forest with us.”

“Of course, let him stay.”

“Well, time for us to go, be seeing you.”