Valian has been walking around the store for a good thirty minutes. First, she swept through all the departments, throwing purchases into the basket, and then repeated this “trick”, but in the opposite direction. After putting the goods in their places, she went to the culinary department, walked past the trays with dishes, took a closer look at the pastries and headed the other way.

She needs to eat something. She is very hungry and therefore wants to take everything. Even something that bathes in an ocean of oil and fat.

The bag of chips is just what the doctor ordered. Nourishing, burning and will discourage any desire to buy those disgusting meatballs.

- If I knew that we had the same plans for this evening, I would definitely insist on my company.

A familiar voice. The no less familiar aroma of perfume and even hands, whose fingers dived into a bag of carcinogens, fished out a spiced record from it and put it in his mouth. And the eyes in which you don’t understand what is more - discontent, interest or a smile, and even more so!

“Good evening, sir,” Val greeted, mentally mentioning the Abyss at least a hundred times.

At least two hundred times! She should have seen it! Not just because he picked her up in the morning! Because he just settled nearby and has not yet studied the entrances of the new district properly.

- You can use "you," the boss offers with slightly brightened eyes. We're not at work anymore.

Sfirerat steals her chips again, which surprises her once again. The point, of course, is not in eating junk food, but in the fact that they are merchandised in the same store.

“I’ll try, but I can’t promise that it will work out,” Val replies, accepting his conditions. "Admit that you followed me?"

She succumbed to his "persuasion" only because they were not at work and because he caught her in the supermarket. How can you be called a professional if she didn't even know the address where he was staying?!

- Was it necessary? he asks, raising his eyebrows.

Sfirerat Hell doesn't even think about smiling. He waits for her answer, paying close attention to her face. It no longer seems that he understood her "manoeuvre" in an attempt to avoid unnecessary rapprochement with him.

“No, and I don’t advise doing this in the future,” Val answered, embarrassed and looking away to stop burning like a winter log. - Let the image of a fairy remain in your memory, and not a city madwoman.

– Will you explain to me? Or my curiosity will force me to do exactly the opposite.

I wonder what she would say to him if someone else were in his place? In her world, she would have promised to turn the impudent into an old shoe for a week or two, but in this she would not have warned and would definitely have piled on.

Have you seen fairies talking to themselves? And the bunkers? How about scolding yourself for turning down the darling boss's offer?

- Dushki?

He seems to be amused by this definition. Has no one ever called him that? He's not arrogant, not like a jerk and a psychopath. But... He's not a darling, to be honest. He is a handsome and smart man. There are many of them in her world. It's worth remembering this.

“Only in secret,” Val beckons him towards her, and when Sfirat leans towards her, he whispers quickly. “In truth, he is a dragon, but I don’t want everyone to know about it, and even more so any crazy people who chase tired girls on the street.

- Crazy? Sfirerat asks with the most shocked expression on his face.

Val nods, not forgetting to grin to himself. He himself insisted on informal communication!

“I want to see what it’s like when he gets caught in a hot hand.

“Such a peaceful profession and such a bloodthirsty nature,” her companion gives out in tune with her, but not forgetting to smile at the same time in a way she already knows. “But know that some wishes tend to come true.

“This is an exploratory interest,” Val replies, carefully pretending not to notice anything.

She is not afraid of him, but it is worth recognizing that only this was not enough for her - to run into the discontent of another boss.

“Dragons don't exist,” Sfirerat remarks, smiling with only his eyes. - Where does such a passion for fairy-tale creatures come from? ..

“That's what they want everyone to think,” Val replies quickly and with the same seriousness, telling himself to stay like that for another second.

He is wrong. Val just lives in a world full of strange creatures. Talking about dragons is more than commonplace for her. There was not a day that there was not someone who saw or even communicated with the relic. And there are even more lies in those stories. She is not passionate, but only tries to be as strange as possible in his eyes.

- Let's admit that they are great at it?

In response to this, Spheirat suddenly laughed. His booming and incredibly pleasant laugh spread throughout the supermarket, forcing everyone to pay attention, from young to old. Val, to her late horror, suddenly flexed her fingers, ready at any moment to avert the eyes of everyone who was looking at them at that moment. Cooked, realized and went cold. She needs to go, and the sooner the better. Because it's not normal! So get carried away ... O Great Gods!

‍​‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​​​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​​‌

- Yours took, but my research interest, - he said after a few seconds, - wants to know what kind of dish you decided to cook from such a strange set of products.

He seemed to have overheard her thoughts and decided to play along with her!

“It will be a salad,” Val says, looking down at the contents of the basket.

She is happy, disappointed, and yet annoyed. The practical side tells her that it is good that they have moved away from the topic of fairy tales, that they are not fairy tales at all. Romantic is disappointed by the fact that he retreated, and therefore did not figure it out. But some other, probably tired part of the consciousness is exhausted by female inconsistency, a hard day and much more.

- From beets, cottage cheese and turnips?

“Salad with beetroot, cottage cheese, arugula and pine nuts and the main dish of turnips with beef,” she says quickly, ignoring her twitching stomach. “Now it’s your turn to say what you’re going to make with bacon, a can opener, and asparagus.”

She has never been a vegetarian. I tried, but to eat only plants - it turned out that this is above it. The last time she ate only grass, that is, everything that consisted of legumes and cereals, was about five months ago and did not want to repeat this experience again. Never and never.

“Salad,” her boss replies, his eyes sparkling with laughter.

“With corn and raw bacon?”

Val even raised an eyebrow, unable to imagine the final taste of the combination of these products.

“You will laugh, but I, like you, have corn and bacon,” he explains, sticking his hand into a pack of delicious, but still very unhealthy food - these are the missing ingredients for hot and appetizers.

“And you say you don’t exist,” Val said, sighing with mock sadness. - Rich, handsome, smart, able to cook and rich - this is the dragon of the modern world.

She deliberately began and ended with the word "rich." Passed an evaluating glance at him, too, for a reason. Tristan would say that it was necessary to start with this. She should have climbed into his lap while still in the office, and not pretended to be touchy.

Okay…

Don't be so aggressive. But she was obliged to build eyes, at the risk of earning strabismus. Then he would not have been half so interested in her and would not have looked at her with a dark look.

“I just have to demonstrate it,” he said, pursing his lips in front of it. - Invite you to dinner.

He understood everything again, spitting on Tristan Is'hid's ornate theory of male infatuation and quickly giving up prey.

“With pleasure, but I'm busy today,” Val replied, wondering how far the proposed dinner for the two could go. - I promised to meet my friend.

Sfirat nods in agreement. It seems that he drew conclusions. As for Val, she becomes a little sad because she remembered another theory. This time my own. It is closely tied to money and the perseverance of a man. The more money the latter has, the faster he loses interest in the goal, on the way to which there are too many all sorts of obstacles.

"Maybe you're wrong and your theory sucks?"

The voice asked the question very quietly, as if afraid of being discovered. He made himself known for the first time in hours, which surprised Val. One got the impression that he was afraid to be heard by the guy who continued to look at her with a very attentive look of dark eyes.

Weird…

It seemed to her that they were saturated gray, but certainly not black.

"Then can I drive you home?" Sfirerat asked when they were on the other side of the cash registers.

Val shook her head, trying to look as calm and confident as possible. Not guilty or embarrassed at all. Despite the fact that he over and over again refutes all her conclusions regarding the male sex and thereby pleases her, she is obliged to finish him off.

“Don't,” she says, packing up her groceries. I live nearby and it would be nice to take a little walk.

“So next time,” he agrees, giving her an overly attentive look.

- See you tomorrow, sir.

***

What was Val thinking about for the rest of the evening? When did you enjoy an impossibly lonely dinner? When you cooked it, for some reason angry with yourself?

Something between guilt and conscience led her to prepare stew and salad. It is not easy to cook, and even to set the table. She seemed to justify herself to herself and prove that her dinner could be no worse than the one she had recently refused.

Who was she thinking of when one of the Khalts answered? And when did you dress for an evening walk? Who occupied her thoughts as she descended into the lower and largely unvisited part of London?

“I should have agreed and went to dinner,” an inner voice whispered caustically. “At the same time, I would have learned how the impossibly rich, cheerful and rich live.”

She could not. She has already given the first reason. The second was related to the first.

"Nothing would have happened to him overnight."

The voice does not like the dank climate of the city. He does not like damp and cold sewers, mold, moss, cockroaches and rats. Val, ignoring the moaning, muttering and snorting, continued to walk forward.

It would happen.

There are enough forgotten and abandoned burial places underground. The bones of creatures long gone into the darkness remain practically untouched due to the microclimate of the dungeons. This is used by Jangol-Der - a necromancer, a fanatic and a psychopath. He pours strength into them, lifts them from their last resting places and cooks ...

For what?

Val wants to know why he is preparing this dead army, but she is afraid of this knowledge. If the necromancer has targeted Elandil and the neighboring kingdoms... They will fight back. It’s just that her relatives, friends, good acquaintances, neighbors, just creatures who are innocent of nothing will die.

But if the goal is a world called Earth, then this will be a real massacre. People will not be able to hold back this onslaught, no matter how much they prepare themselves for the invasion of zombies. They do not understand that you will rise, led by someone else's will again and again. Nephilim and magicians of this world, maybe werewolves and vampires will stand next to them, but this alone will not be enough. The dead from the "fairy tales" are as fast as in some films created by Hollywood.

What does a few thousand beings mean against millions of corpses? Nothing.

It is disgusting that the creatures of Saohal will not come to their aid. Because this is a foreign world and it has its own destiny. Because the people themselves once chose this path - to fence themselves off from the world of inequality and magic in order to create their own, consisting of everything also from inequality and money.

Val does not know if she can turn away, hear the screams of the dying and go about her usual routine. Will she begin to equip her garden in the attic as if nothing had happened, knowing that somewhere Kristin is being torn to pieces? Buying utensils for the brand new kitchen when Elanis is first killed and then raised? Admire the sunsets on a tiled roof, when people flood the city with chemicals just to get rid of an unknown disease?

"Come!"

Val shook herself. Dark thoughts engulfed her and finally spoiled the mood. But they helped her overcome the distance to the gate, not to notice the smells, fatigue in her legs and the rats swimming nearby. Forget about Sfirat.

“Peace to the realm of shadows,” she says, guiding the moss-covered runes. - Open up!

The wall does not move aside. She crumbles under her feet with sand and stone, creating a bridge and offering to shake off the rotten sewage from the enchanted boots. But as soon as Val is on the side of cold and darkness, she takes on her former appearance - a huge deaf arch that leads nowhere.

– Flambay al-ea[1]! Val says, imagining a 3D drawing of the spell. – Wei[2]!

The elf stands at its beginning. It looks like a projection, which conveys the hole in the tent. But magic is the opposite. Most often not the result, but the beginning.

- Go away and come back! Val repeats as he walks through the streets of the dead city. - Go away and come back!

She casts a search spell even though she's not looking for anything. She knows exactly where her khailt is. He is far ahead - in the bowl of a dried-up fountain in the center of the city. A small beacon that reacted to any kind of magic sent her a signal that magic was happening here.

- Go away and come back! Val repeats so often that he soon begins to lose the meaning of the spoken words. - Go away and come back!

They have become strangers, but the spell works properly. It radiates from Val in light waves, returns, and brings no one with it. What well. Otherwise, she would have rushed to run back. There are so many dead here! She can't resist so many bones.

"Did it pass?"

Val shakes his head.

"Maybe the khailt detected an echo of magic?"

Val says a soft and firm no. She knows all the fortune tellers, psychics and visionary practitioners in this part of town from above. There is not a single strong or even average magician among them. Such prefer life outside the city, so as not to be noticed by anyone.

"Then it's broken? It's full of rats! Could something hurt him?"

In theory, yes. But just not in practice. There are many animals in the upper tiers of the sewer. But not here. There are no living people in this city, and no one will walk along these streets without saying the cherished words at the beginning.

"Let's get out of here!"

The voice is scary. Val is uncomfortable with this sensation, but also with what her ears are hearing. She hears the murmur of water, which has not been in this place for a long time. The sound is far away, but it's getting clearer. She even knows where it comes from - from the same bowl of the fountain with dust from long-dead leaves.

"Let's go to!"

Her inner self is afraid of only one thing - water. Val is not afraid of her. She knows that her talking madness is her subconscious. All his fears are vivid and unpleasant impressions received by her in childhood.

"Let's go to!!!"

Val's feet carry her to the center like the road is enchanted. She thinks it makes no sense, but it's too late. Among the temple-rocks, stone trees and fragments of statues, she comes face to face with the figure of a woman. It is woven from black water.

"It's just magic!"

The living should be feared, not the dead. It is worth being afraid of magicians, but not golems created by them, no matter what they consist of. They lack intelligence. They only do what they are told. This one doesn't seek to kill her. It has a different purpose.

She looks around again, sweeping the space with her eyes. The keen gaze of the elf, reinforced by the magical gaze, does not see anyone.

The water golem reaches out to her hand and acts on its own. Black water spills out of the fountain and crawls towards Valian.

She backs off. Finds the strength to break away and put aside his interest. Val sees that there are no threads of power stretching to the tiny pool. But the created spell works. They continue to advance, seeking to take possession of Val's legs.

One movement of the boot and from under Val's toe a stone flies into the black figure. She needs to see what happens next. In theory, it should ricochet. This is what happens with just one tiny "but". Instead of a stone, a wave of power flies into Val. She kicks her side, drags her along the ground and punches her in the chest as she hits the wall.

"Call Eon! Itilgida! Narxor!

She does. A call for help and not one soars up. It is like a flare. It's like she's setting off fireworks. Only in response nothing happens, except for the characteristic sound of bursting rock.

"Let's run!"

Val is protected by a shield from a crumb of stone falling from above. She is scared and looks ahead. The figure of the woman was gone. But the sound hasn't gone anywhere. Dark water splashes in the fountain and beats against the gray sides. She calls out to her as if teasing her, as if knowing that Val is the kind of being who tends to overcome her fears and face them rather than run away from them.

- Give them back to us! - she says a spell in her native language. - Give them back to us!

The wave of her spell runs forward. Now she is not white and not gray. It is black, like magic that destroys each of the worlds. It is designed to dismantle and destroy... But Val screams, grabbing a stub of the wall so that she would not be dragged after him.

"Now let's go?!"

She nods, rises to her feet, and walks away, looking back as she goes. Val understands the mechanics of the enchantment. They work in close proximity to the magician. But she can't do anything about the irrational part of her being.

"Let's get out! Let's call for help! Let's go! Let's explain! Only then will we return!”

Val nods, running towards the archway. Lips tremble. It doesn't take long for her to say the words.

“Chaos to that world!” Open up!

Once knee-deep in water and scooping it into his boots, Val, instead of exhaling and leaning his back against the restored wall, runs forward. She stops after a few hundred meters when she is among the harnesses and wires. It is quiet, light and dry here, which somewhat calms her.

- What was it?! she says, putting her hand on her chest. - Eoneirner!

Behind the masonry walls, rats squeak. They ran with her, and now they are squeaking and asking her to help them.

– Tareeri isenet[3]!

Even though she doesn't like rats, Val can't leave them there. They are scared. They ran along the walls and swam in the water, following her and knowing that she would lead them to salvation. And now she's leaving them there?!

"Abomination!"

A wet and living stream of creatures slips into the passage she has created, tramples on its feet and runs away without looking back and without thanks.

- Tareeri senet willow! says Val, hurrying to restore the communication channel to its former form.

She goes home, many, many, many times, repeating the call, but her comrades and commander do not hear or ignore her, as they did a hundred years ago.