Аншул Саксена – Пепел и Звёзды (страница 2)
He surveyed the room. Methodically, without pretense—simply taking note. Bookshelves lined three walls, a mismatched assortment, old and new, some with marked pages and scraps of paper with notes sticking out. Bundles of herbs hung from the ceiling—thyme, St. John's wort, lemon balm, lavender, five varieties of mint. A small desk covered with herbarium leaves, notes, and an inkwell with frozen streaks. A star chart above the desk—a large one, stretching almost from floor to ceiling, hand-drawn on several sheets of paper taped together, with notes, diagrams, and numerical notations.
He lingered on the map.
"Silver Nebula," he said without turning around. "You've mapped all seven constellations of the Northern Belt. Most maps only show four."
"Most of the maps are inaccurate." Elara placed the knife back on the table, pointedly, so he could see. "Sit if you want. The chair is by the window."
He sat down. The hard wooden chair was clearly designed for smaller people. This didn't seem to bother him.
“Tea?” asked Elara.
– No.
– Then tell me why you came.
He spoke briefly—without preamble, without attempting to soften or embellish. The Lord of Light—the official on the opposing side in that long-simmering war, which both sides called a "confrontation" and neither called what it truly was—had kidnapped his sister three nights ago. Liira Darr, eighteen, a young mage with the Gift of Water, whom he had hidden years ago away from the court's political games, placing her in a relatively safe place on neutral territory. They had taken her at night, without warning, without explanation.
She was reportedly held in the Constellation Tower.
“The Tower of Constellations,” Elara repeated slowly.
– You know what it is.
"Everyone knows what it is." She sat down on the edge of her desk. "The tower stands at the intersection of two worlds. You can't enter it the normal way. The passage opens only through the star threads."
"Exactly." Kaen looked at her. "I spent two years looking for the person who sees them."
The pause is long, like a minute before a thunderstorm.
"How do you know about me?" Elara asked. Her voice came out even. It was an effort.
– Information costs money. I have money.
– Who else knows?
Her gaze from under her black lashes was direct and appraising. He realized what she was really asking.
"Only the person who told me." A slight pause. "He won't tell anyone else."
– Why?
"Because I asked him not to tell." A pause, behind which there was something more, but he didn't formulate it. "I know what you're thinking. No, I didn't kill him. I paid for his silence, not his death."
Elara looked at the threads. The black within them didn't pulse like a threat—it pulsed like heaviness. Pain. Not cruelty.
“What do you offer in return?” she asked.
"Protection. As long as you help me, no one will touch you, your home, your people." He said this matter-of-factly. "Afterward, documents. Clean ones. A new name, a different city, if you like. Or money."
– What if I refuse?
She asked this question deliberately. She wanted to see the threads when he answered.
"Then I'll leave. My sister will probably die. You'll live." Quiet calmly. "I don't force people."
The threads haven't changed. Not a splash of red. Not a shadow of pretense. The truth.
“This is unexpected,” Elara said quietly.
Something changed slightly in his face—not a smile, but rather a shadow of surprise, as unexpected as her words.
– Why?
"Because you are the Lord of Ash. They say you are a cruel man."
"They talk a lot." Something dry entered his voice. "I burned a village—once. Only Light Court soldiers lived there, and two days before, they had massacred a peaceful settlement, children and all. Stories tend to be oversimplified."
Silence.
"I need time to think," Elara said. "Ten minutes. Go to the kitchen—there's bread and cheese there."
He stood up without protest and left. Elara approached the map and stared for a long time at the intersection near the old fountain.
✦ ✦ ✦
She thought for ten minutes.
On the one hand, there was the obvious danger. It was multilayered. Entering the Constellation Tower was a risk for any mage, and she wasn't even a mage in the classic sense: she had no element, no academic training, nothing but those strange black eyes that saw things they shouldn't. Aiding the Dark Court automatically meant becoming an enemy of the Light Court. And the Light Court had agents all over the city, and its leader was known for not forgiving interference in its affairs.
On the other hand, there are Caen's threads.
Gold and heavy black. A man who carries something great. Not a villain. Not a manipulator. Someone real – complex and genuine.
And somewhere in the Tower of Constellations there was an eighteen-year-old girl, taken without explanation.
Elara couldn't just walk away from it. That was part of the curse, too—to see pain and not have the right to pretend you didn't see it.
She walked into the kitchen.
Kaen sat at a small table, eating bread and cheese with a methodical efficiency that spoke of a man long accustomed to eating when he could, not when he wanted. He looked up.
"I'll help you," Elara said. "But I have conditions."
– Go ahead and speak.
"First: you don't touch my books. Don't take them, don't rummage through them without asking. Second: no questions about my past. About my family, about where my gift came from, about who I was before the Silver City. Third: when we find your sister, you leave and forget I exist."
Kaen looked at her and nodded slowly.
– I accept all three.
– Fast.
“The terms are reasonable.” He put the bread down. “When are we leaving?”
"Not now. The passage only opens when the three stars of Orion's Belt are aligned correctly. The next time is in two days."
"Two days is a long time." Something in him tensed. "I'm not sure she has two days."
Elara looked at him. Then at the map.
– Then I need to explain something to you.
About star threads and their price
Elara didn't tell anyone about the threads. It was one of the three main rules of survival: don't tell, don't show, pretend you don't see. Her mother knew, and reacted with tears and attempts to "fix" her. The master her mother took her to knew, and reacted with a scientific interest that was almost as frightening. Elara confided in no one else.
Now there was a technical necessity. Without understanding the principle, Kaen couldn't help her, even if he wanted to. She explained.
"Star threads are different from regular ones," she began, returning to the map. "I see regular threads all the time—they're between people, they're passive, I just read them. Star threads are different. They pass through places where reality is subtle—where two worlds almost touch. The Constellation Tower stands on one of the strongest of these points."
"How do I get in?" He stood next to her at the map. Too close for the threads not to be felt—but it was just physics, nothing personal.
"If I pull the star thread directly, bypassing the normal opening time, I'll create a temporary corridor. It's like opening a door that should be closed by picking the lock." She paused. "It hurts. Sometimes a lot."
– For you?