Alexey Pehov - Shadow Prowler

“Soo, that’s where you are!” a triumphant voice echoed right in my ear. I jumped forward into the safety of the building and the door slammed shut, leaving me in total darkness.

“Don’t worry,” Valder replied to my thoughts. “He can’t get in, the door won’t let him.”

“Who is he?” I asked, taking out the magical light.

“I don’t know, I’ve never seen him before.”

“Can I wait out the day here? Is it safe in the tower?”

“Alas, my friend. In this part of Avendoom nowhere is safe.”

Sagot! So in twenty minutes it will all be over.

Holding the bright trinket out in front of me, I inspected the interior that I already knew from my dream. Nothing had changed, except that the walls were covered with soot, and there was a human skeleton lying on the floor.

“An old friend,” Valder whispered sadly.

A friend? Ah, yes! The archmagician. What was his name? Ilai? No… Ilio.

I had to go up. To where Artsivus had said the archive was kept. Grab the plans of Hrad Spein and run-and I had just had another one of my crazy little ideas. Valder chuckled inside my head in approval of my plan.

I flew up the black marble staircase that wound round the central column like a gigantic snake. The light of the magical trinket picked images out of the darkness-frescoes that told the history of the Order. Now the second floor and the door leading to the archive. I happened to raise my head, and saw the broken end of the serpentine stairway pointing up into the predawn sky. This was all that was left of the mighty Tower of the Order.

Bursting in through the door, I found myself in a long, wide corridor. The light picked out decayed Sultanate carpets under my feet, elegant carved furniture, tapestries on the walls, and hundreds of doors.

May the Nameless One take me! Which one is it?

“Go on! The archive hall is farther along!”

I broke into a run. The corridor seemed endless; the magicians of the Order had obviously done something with the space in order to expand the inner premises of the tower a little.

“Stop!”

I had almost rushed past it. The wooden doors were standing slightly open, as if someone had left the archive in a hurry. Perhaps that was what had actually happened, and the magician who had returned from Hrad Spein and carried the maps through the Forbidden Territory had never got as far as the Order. Wouldn’t it be funny if he had never got as far as the tower, and there were no maps here?

The magic light began to fade.

“What’s happening?”

“The magic of the tower’s smothering it. It won’t be any more help to you. Hurry!”

I entered the huge room. There was almost no time left now.

Hmm. Not bad. The Royal Library would be green with envy. Even it didn’t have this many magic books and ancient tomes. Shelves upon shelves upon shelves. Books upon books upon books. And it was all permeated with magic. A stranger could wander about in here for hours and still not find what he was looking for. May a h’san’kor devour my dear departed granny.

“Straight on!” Valder barked. “Left! Follow these shelves, turn left again at the end! Straight on. Farther, farther, farther… Stop! Turn round! There it is!”

Panting hard, I looked down at the elegant crystal table with nothing standing on it except a large black casket, decorated with silver deer. Its lid was raised slightly and I could see a bundle of papers. There it was, my goal!

I grabbed the treasure with trembling hands and stuffed it into my bag. Now it was time to get out of there.

“Vukhdjaaz!” I howled as loud as I could. “Vukhdjaaz, it’s me!”

For a few moments nothing happened, and I started getting very nervous, afraid that my plan wouldn’t work. And then my old acquaintance appeared straight out of the bookshelves. A real little charmer. And I must confess that if anyone had told me only a few hours earlier that I would be glad to see him, I would have twirled one finger at the side of my head and told the madman where he could go.

“Well? Have you got the Horse?” he asked, his green eyes glittering furiously.

“Take me to the edge of the Forbidden Territory, please, to the start of the Street of the Roofers,” I said in a rather polite and cultured manner.

But demons are obviously not taught to be polite and cultured.

“Have you lost your mind, manling?” Vukhdjaaz hissed, grabbing me by the sides of my chest. “Or drunk a drop too much? Do I look like a carriage driver?”

“I have to get out of here!” I had no time for arguing with this creature. “Take me where I ask, and you’ll find out where to get the Horse!”

The demon gave me an angry and suspicious look, obviously wondering which way to devour me, then suddenly opened his fingers and let me go.

“All right, I’ll take you where you want to go, but if you trick me I’ll suck the marrow out of your bones.”

“A deal.” I took a deep breath.

“Are you ready, manling?”

“Yes.” Without even looking, I grabbed a couple of ancient tomes off the nearest shelf.

What can I say, it’s a professional habit. I could sell those books to people who appreciated them for huge money-why not earn a bit extra, since I hadn’t been able to stick my nose into the gnomes’ bank?

“I’ll just take…”

Vukhdjaaz grabbed me by the scruff of the neck and pulled me up against him.

Clack!

In the first instant the wall leapt toward me. In the second something gray flickered in front of my eyes and my ears felt as if they were stuffed with cotton wool. In the third, I was already standing beside the magic wall, blinking in amazement.

“… a couple of books,” I said, completing my interrupted sentence.

“You already took them,” the demon snorted. “Well? Where is it?”

“Come to the Knife and Ax tomorrow at exactly one minute after midnight and I’ll give you the Horse.”

Vukhdjaaz gave a muffled growl and bared his huge teeth. “I can tell you’re lying!”

“Why would I?” I asked, shrugging my shoulders and squinting up nervously at the sky. About two minutes to dawn at the most. “You can always find me. Come, but at precisely the time I said, otherwise the Horse might no longer be there.”

“Don’t try to tell me what to do, you little snake! I’ll be there!” the demon growled, and disappeared into the wall of the nearest house. He didn’t even remind me about sucking the marrow out of my bones.

I breathed a sigh of relief, carefully set the books on the top of the wall, clambered up onto it myself, and was about to climb down when I remembered a piece of unfinished business.

“Valder, you have to go now.”

“Good-bye,” the archmagician’s voice replied immediately.

“Thank you. Live in the light.”

I felt something disappear from inside me. The archmagician was gone.

I jumped down from the wall, then reached up and took the books lying on top of it. Well, that was that. I’d done something no one else had ever done-gone right through the Forbidden Territory. Of course, I’d cheated a bit and obtained help from a demon, but your average philistine didn’t have to know anything about that.

I was just about to go when I heard a shout from behind the wall:

“Harold, save me!”

I jumped up, grabbed hold of the top of the wall, pulled myself up, and saw who was calling me.

It was Shnyg, hobbling and stumbling along the Street of the Roofers and repeatedly falling over. So he’d survived, the tenacious son of a bitch! He must have raced the entire length of the street to get here in time.

“Shnyg, old buddy, do you need my help?”

“Harold! Don’t leave me!” he shouted.

I’m not exactly overflowing with love for neighbors who would like to stick a knife in my heart, but there was a good reason to help Shnyg… if, of course, he was willing to tell me about his client and about the mysterious Master.