Дмитрий Мансуров - Invasion

“I’m lagging behind the times,” he murmured thoughtfully. “There are new parasites in my land.”

Kashchey focused on the wonderful city of Slavnograd to make sure that nothing this bad was happening there. Technically, everything looked fine, but there were some carriages with people before the gates. One man was waving his hands, shouting something to the guards on the walls loudly. The bridge over the moat was lifted off the ground, and the gates were closed. People were holding sharpened poles and clubs, as if waiting for an attack. The guards were staring at the shouting man but did nothing. The visitors didn’t look as mighty soldiers, but considering that at any moment, an ambush could come, they weren’t willing to risk it. The most logical decision on the part of the guards was not to pay attention to the appeals and demands of others until morning. And after the princess was kidnapped, the guards didn’t want to risk by letting some farmers distract them.

The weary man cursed all imaginable and unimaginable people of all existing and fictional worlds, spat, and returned to his cart. Kashchey kept waiting, intrigued. In normal times, shouting like this in front of the gates was a guaranteed way to get killed. Attracted by the cries, the guards would shoot first and come out to clarify what happened later. Naturally, they learned nothing in such cases because the only skill of the dead was to remain silent. But these were the peculiarities of their work.

With the first sunbeams, a thick chain shifted. The bridge slowly rolled down, and the gates opened quietly. The carpenters had already replaced the crossbars Kashchey had broken but kept the old ones as a memory of his visit. After all, such guests appeared rarely.

“Go!” Babak commanded. The horse moved.

Strict guards at the gate blocked the passage.

“What is your business here?” they asked menacingly. Babak showed them the medallion.

“News from Prince Yaroslav,” he answered shortly.

“And who are they?” the guard nodded at the sleeping Alena and Ivan. “Are they news, too?”

“Yep. They’re news for Prince Artem’s relatives,” Babak answered. “Is something wrong?”

“Go on,” the guard declared indifferently, ignoring his question.

The chief jumped out of the guards’ booth and blocked the way. Babak stopped, surprised. The man was looking at him closely.

“I thought I heard a familiar voice,” he said. “Sarek! Is that you? What brings you here? Did you decide to return to the service?”

“And be stuck in your behind-the-scenes intrigues?” Babak grinned. “No way.”

“Well, you’ve been fired, so I see where you’re coming from.”

“Thanks a bunch for reminding me of those less-than-stellar days! I should have seen it coming. But in the meantime, I have an urgent matter to attend to. Could you let me in? I need to see your King.”

“How urgent is your urgent matter?”

“If I’m late, we’re all dead. And by dead, I mean, dead.”

The chief turned pale.

“Go on! Should I show you the way?”

“Show *me* the way?”

The man waved his hand. He knew Babak could easily offer tours across the city himself.

“That’s why I love the military. They’re so intelligent,” Babak explained to Alena, who’d finally woken up. “We’re in the capital.”

The image of the city was replaced by a galactic advertisement. Kashchey cursed the person who’d eaten the apple and walked out of the room. The device reached its limits and ceased working. Good thing that he had held on to it for seven seconds only.

“Well, Maria, what’s new?” was the first thing he asked, making it clear that everything was back to normal.

“The mirror,” Maria replied. “I’ll never get one of these.”

“Yeah? Why?”

“The reflection it shows is scarier than meeting a ghost at night.”

Kashchey peeked into the mirror immediately. Maria hadn’t lied. The mirror distorted the image in the most unthinkable way.

“I’ll put it near the entrance,” Kashchey decided. “My guests will be delighted.”

“You have no guests,” Maria reminded.

“What about you?”

“I’m a prisoner! An honorary one.”

“You’re an honorary prize, not a prisoner,” Kashchey replied.

“Huh?”

“Well, you’ll be awarded to a winner,” he noted vaguely. “Anyway, forget it. What else have you found?”

Maria handed him a bound folder. Kashchey spent about three minutes on trying to unsuccessfully untie it before he realized that the knot was decorative and that the folder could be opened by pressing a bulge in the form of an arrow. Kashchey pushed it down, and a blue flame flew from the folder.

“Wow!” Kashchey jumped away and closed the folder. Then he read the microscopic writing on the back. “Road tiles. Open carefully!”

Putting it in its rightful place, Kashchey picked up the box that refused to be closed as long as it remained empty. As soon as he crumpled a sheet of paper with the words ‘Perfectly smooth surface’ and put it inside, the box closed. Opening it now would be impossible.

“I wish I could see how it tries to straighten up,” Kashchey remarked slyly and winced immediately after that at the sound of the crackling wood. The leaf broke through the walls and straightened, cutting the box in half. “Now that’s horrible!”

Kashchey put half of the box on the top shelf and grabbed the small bag. It giggled hysterically. Puzzled, Kashchey looked at it and tried to open it.

Who was making this infectious laugh?

The bag refused to open. It refused to be broken or cut either. The only thing that changed was the hysterical laughter. It had begun to laugh mockingly.

“People come up with all sorts of rubbish! Did the inventor of this thing have nothing better to do?” Kashchey exclaimed in astonishment.

“Maybe it was created to cheer up a sad crowd,” Maria suggested. “There are often such days when you don’t want to smile at all. Or when the weather is bad, or some troubles loom on the horizon. A bag would be great in these circumstances.”

“I’ll give it to you for your wedding,” Kashchey promised. “In the meantime, I think you’ll approve of my decision.”

He threw the bag on the top shelf where the box and the scientific dictionary were already lying.

Flying into the Quirky forest, the fox became so confused that the first thing she did was bark at the bush that reminded her of a crow. Only then did she begin to think.

Why was she barking?

Nothing particularly terrible had happened in the Quirky forest for a long time, but unseen animals lived here. They followed unusual physical laws that were incomprehensible to common birds, animals, and people. Lots of weird and mysterious things were happening in this place, which explained its name.

Who would have thought that a piece of cheese would be so expensive? That crow. It couldn’t even lend her a piece! Although perhaps she knew what hunger was? But how? She was probably eating like crazy while the fox nearly fainted from hunger.

“So greedy!” the fox yelled. She desperately needed to vent. For a moment, there was a dead silence, and then the some of the local birds went wild with indignation. The astonished fox discovered that none of them paid attention to her. It’s just that she expressed the opinion of each inhabitant of these places as it related to their neighbors. The neighbors, in turn, didn’t care who started the name-calling. They just took the chance to yell at someone they’d been dying to yell at but failed to find a reason for it. Those who were yelled at screamed at the first and the third neighbors, and the latter went on the warpath.