The Mist and the Lightning. Part I

Автор

Ви Корс

Жанр

Героическая фантастика

Год написания книги

2020

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"No, I don't!"

"To-o-ol!"

"No, Orel, wait. I want to have a say, too. I care! I hate it when people laugh at my face and say that Orel's group is a pathetic bunch of idiots and it's just a matter of time to finish them off. I'm going to return us our former respect. And Nikto will help us to scare them all shitless!"

"Ooh. Tol! What are you thinking? What is this trash in your head?" Orel sighed hopelessly.

"Just forbid him to open his mouth at all," Lis said, annoyed.

"You keep your mouth shut, you redhead half-blood!" Tol retorted.

"How can I scare them?" Nikto asked. "Can you explain me?"

"Yes, I can!" Tol said defiantly. "And stop confusing me, shut your mouth, shut your mouth! Everyone knows WHO his father is!"

Everyone froze but Nikto stayed sitting calmly and his expression didn't change.

"You're gonna to get bitten," Lis said.

"Damn you," Nikto said and then looked at Tol with a smirk. "And you are not afraid, are you?"

"I am," Tol said. "But now you're our friend, so, he won't harm us."

"But maybe it's better to stay away from such friends?"

"Maybe it's better – but I like to risk, and it's a good chance to test my luck! And I'm sure you won't be at disadvantage either. You have to join us. I'm speaking straight, I can't come up with clever speeches like Orel. Will you join us?"

"I will," Nikto said.

"Well, Tol, today is your day," Lis said.

"Let's toast. For all of us!" Enriki raised his glass.

They drank some wine and lit cigarettes.

"Can you read and write?" Tol asked Nikto after a while.

"Yes," Nikto said; he smoked leaning against the back of the chair, as usual. The scar crossing his face seemed black in the dim light.

"Human language? Or Unclean?"

"Both. And Red too."

"Cool!" Tol was surprised. "But do you write like you speak?"

"What do you mean?"

"Hmm, a little incorrectly, you're speaking not quite like we do. Same words but somehow another feeling."

"I think Tol means accent," Lis said. "You speak with an accent yourself, Tol."

"Me? You're kidding."

Everyone laughed.

"Do I write with an accent?" Nikto smiled. "No, Tol, I write better than I speak."

"And I speak better," Tol said and everyone laughed again. "Lis is lying about me having an accent! Do you see me having an accent, Nikto?"

"No, I don't."

"See?" he turned to Lis showing him a fist. "Don't you dare kid me."

"You have a south-western accent," Lis said. "Don't you remember where you're from?"

"Okay, I remember but you also remember watching your mouth."

"All right, all right," Lis shook his head.

"And can you count, do you know book-keeping?" Tol asked Nikto again.

"I can."

"Look at him, he can do anything!"

"I heard you're good with maps," Lis said.

Nikto glanced at him.

"Yes, quite so," he said slowly, his eyes not leaving Lis's face.

"And you can even draw them," Lis said standing Nikto's gaze.

"Hey, Lis," Orel said, "do you need a map?"

"No," Lis lowered his gaze obeying Orel's words.

"And can you play cards?" Tol brightened. "Like Snap, or Rummy, or…"

Nikto looked at Tol.

"I can. I can play cards, Tol. I'll leave you broke in a moment."

"We'll see!" Tol bellowed. It looked like he enjoyed this little quarrel to no end.

"And do you like human women?" he asked Nikto again. Nikto looked at Orel who was smiling.

"I like women," Nikto said.