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14

Moonbeam, Ra Gro Manor,

evening watch

I suspiciously squinted my eyes at something white splashing in the mug brought by my mother.

- What's this?

“But you don’t even know!” Inis shook her head indignantly.

I look closely and sniff, after which I ask again with disgust:

- Milk?

- It is the most.

You know how much I hate...

- Calm down, the foam is removed! And why don't you love them? It's so yummy…” Ma smiled dreamily.

- Like it, eat it!

— And I already. Ate.

- To health!

“Life in the city did not do you any good, son,” a thoughtful and unquestioning remark follows inappropriately.

Inis, who has changed from her trousers and jacket to a homespun dress, runs her hand through my hair.

- Should be longer.

- I know.

“Your father’s braid fell below the waist.

- I know.

"You don't want to be like him to spite me?"

Well, the conclusion! Why did she decide so? Everything is exactly the opposite!

- Ma...

- What? - tired look.

- I can hardly cope with hair of this length, and you want it to grow back ... Who will take care of them? It was easier for my father: he had you. What should I do?

She is silent, lowering her eyelashes. Long long time. And when I already despair of getting an answer, I hear sad:

We are to blame for our troubles.

Ynys shudders shiveringly, even though the library is quite warm, if not stuffy.

- Drink milk and go to bed.

— Yes, ma.

- Don't sit up.

“Of course, ma. As always.

She leaves with her favorite "elven step", weightless as a feather. How many times in childhood did mother catch us red-handed? And do not count: Vig and I were terrible pranksters and fidgets. And even Callie occasionally took part in our fun ... Where are these carefree days now? Gone with the waters of Lavuola. Away. In the sea. But, hhag take me, even now I see in the gray eyes of the re-amiter the light of the look of that boy, with whom I merrily ate the jam stolen from the cook! And when I look at Ra-Dien, I remember what wonderful golden curls framed his still thin face then ... I wonder what they see when they look at me?

Okay, let's leave the memories alone and go back to today. Why do I feel bad? Let's figure it out.

Yes, I swallowed smoke. I cannot say that this is the first time I am committing an absurd and poorly thought-out act, but this one, like the previous ones (luckily for me!), did not entail irreparable consequences. Tomorrow I will resort to the old proven methods and completely expel all the dirty tricks that managed to get there from the blood. Even the remnants of booze, which did not go either for good or for pleasure. And it's a pity how ... Well, it doesn't occur to Kallas to forbid me to pour something stronger than ale diluted with water one to three in drinking establishments. It is strange, by the way, to realize that dan the Counselor has not yet threatened me with such a measure of punishment. Either he doesn’t understand all the charm of a drunken stupor, when you can not think about anything, or ... Doesn’t he want to deprive me of the last joy in life? There is something to think about. If the second is true, then ... At the next meeting I will be quieter than water and lower than grass.

So, it is established: the state of health has nothing to do with it. What is bothering me?

Favorite experience? Here it is not. In recent months, I have hardly thought about the meaninglessness of my own existence. Once. Perhaps this is precisely the recipe for the cure for any blues: work. From morning to evening. Preferably tedious, nasty and taking all available power. Then, when you come home, you no longer want to suffer and complain about your fate: to get to bed ...

So, there is no reason for me to worry inside. Not in the soul, not in the body. It is gratifying, however ... From where does that worm come from, which successfully makes its way through my heart? What did I miss and where?

Before visiting Savek's tavern, I was normal: angry, tired and mischievous. After visiting... drunk and demanding nothing from this world. Then I slept to wake up from the screams of the cat, and trudged to the market for smelly fish. Yeah. From this point on, you need to remember more carefully.

Khes children. Is my concern related to them? No, it can't be: I double-checked them. Although he was not in the best of health, he was quite suitable for such a simple task. Yes, the girl made me a little nervous. With his despair: it seemed too deep. Or didn't it seem? However, at a young age, we experience any trifle violently, as if it were the most important and the last. He himself was like that. And the little one crossed the sea in a fish-smelling basket, clinging to the only hope of reaching the blessed land of the Free City... It's possible to panic when you are discovered in your secluded corner, right? The smell was a little strange, I do not argue. But strange not at all to such an extent as to raise the alarm. And what is there to worry about? It used to be, when the great-great-grandfather of the identified khes were immediately destroyed, and now they are just being expelled from Antreya. Why take sin on your soul and stain your hands with the blood of people guilty only of the fact that they cannot drink the local water without harming those around them? ..

What was wrong? Ah, I remembered! Fishmonger. His appearance seems to be noticeable: he is not a newcomer to the market. Then why did he take on such a risky business as the illegal import of living souls? The profit, of course, is very good, although in this case it was hardly possible to count on any worthwhile payment: what can you take from a child? Unless the girl is the heiress of a noble family and sold all the family jewelry to pay for the fare. More precisely, the transportation of oneself as a commodity. Unconvincing. So, the man was flattered by something else. For girlish delights? It is also likely: some people love very young ones who have not had time to bloom. So, there are two reasons. You can not write off the third one: the merchant simply took pity on the poor thing and decided to help her. Out of the goodness of my heart. In our callous time of searching for profit, it is hard to believe in everything, of course, but ... Anything can happen. Good, dealt with the reasons. Now let's look at the accompanying nonsense.

Did he know my face? A very complex and very important question, the answer to which will make it possible to understand a lot. If not, it's very simple: my sudden interest in the contents of the baskets was dismissed as an aristocratic whim. And arguing with a nobleman is more expensive. Therefore, he did not stop me and prevent me in any other way. But that smile of his… If he knew that the poorly-slept and gloomy young man with a slightly swollen face was Raiden Ra-Gros, why did he let me come closer and smell the hes? Out of curiosity: can I or not? Ruled out. Uncle did not look like a fool who wants to lose his license to trade in Antrey because of two underage vagrants. Oh, how I don't like yesterday... I don't like it at all. When I get back, I'll have to dig through the records of the case and get all the details about the fishmonger from the leading investigator, who at first sight recognized me as "noble". It seems to me that he hunted not only with fish during his long life. It will also be necessary to take an interest in the further fate of the girl: where did she get, under whose wing, how did they arrange the baby.

Yes, it will be necessary. But that's all later, because the first item in the routine of my city life will be the compilation of an inventory of the affected property and familiarization with the protocol of the inquiry regarding the causes of the fire in the shelter. And with the results I'll go straight to Kallas. Ask for a generous donation, of course. Dan The adviser will bully me again... Okay, let's forget about the sad things for now. Sad things are ahead of us. In the face of the immense daneke Amira, whom I will have to please. With all your might and with all diligence.

“Go to sleep, night owl!” Ma calls out from somewhere in the hallway.

I dump the contents of the mug into myself. Br! Cold, oversweetened, fatty milk. How much honey did she swell in there? Everything inside of me is stuck together.

For a moment, I squeeze the wick of the candle with my thumb and forefinger. The light goes out, only real darkness does not come: the moon peers through the windows of the library. Not complete yet, but close to it. Soft moonlight envelops everything around with a mysterious shimmer, which someone will call deadly, and someone - silver. I belong to the first, then to the second. Alternately. Depending on my mood, which jumps from just bad to very bad and back.

That's it, I outlined the goals, set the milestones, it is possible on the side.