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Maren shrugged his shoulders to show he didn't know, and Tobius looked him intently in the eyes.

“Char Maren, I saw a stuffed crow upstairs. This raven is your necrotic familiar [Animal bonded to the wizard by an affinity charm. Usually, the familiar acquires a high intelligence, can understand the will of its master without words, or even begins to talk. Almost always, the mage can see through the eyes of his familiar and hear through his ears.], if I'm not mistaken? You sent him out to investigate, didn't you?

“You can’t hide anything from you, enchantment Tobius,” he didn’t continue to lie. “But there's nothing there. Almost. A village surrounded by soldiers of the Church Guard, where investors are prowling, and nothing more.

- Only?

- She's depopulated. From what I understand, people just disappeared. Most likely, it was discovered by some traveler, maybe a peddler, and everything was reported to the churchmen, and they cut off the gap of the tract. Now the investigators of the Investigation are studying this place and, together with their soldiers, are combing the forests. And the forests here are dark, you know.

“The Holy Officium didn’t ask for help from the Academy?”

“It would hurt his pride—I guess not, they're looking for it themselves. I'm not even sure if they know what's going on in the Ordersee.

“And of course, the good brothers immediately came to the necromancer?”

“Actually, not right away. I expected them much earlier, and yesterday afternoon Brother Olveh and Brother Horace visited me for the first time. Today again. Tomorrow they will come for the last time, and I will go with them, one way or another.

Tobius looked away, out the kitchen window, and swayed slightly on his stool.

“This Olvech is a Petrian. And he serves directly to the Holy Office. So, a professional magician. Dangerous, but manageable. And Brother Horace? What do you know about him besides the fact that he is huge, like a troll?

"Char Thobius, are you thinking of sacrilege?" An attack on the servants of God...

“No one will attack anyone, char Maren. Hope.

The necromancer shrugged.

“Brother Horace is a Johannite, which means that neither you nor I can handle him in hand-to-hand combat, regardless of any mutations in our organisms. Besides, he has some kind of holy relic with him, so strong that it makes me sick when he is around, and my head starts to split.

- Yes, the halo of holy grace hurts the eyes. There was something under his cloak that could hurt a magician badly - I wouldn't be surprised if it was a consecrated hammer or something. Therefore, if the good brothers use force, we will either run away or become a little stubborn and be beaten.

“Char Thobius, I don't want to think about it. Fighting monks, let alone running away from them, is out of my hands, I didn’t limit myself all my life so that now everything will go to waste! My advice to you: go where you went. Are you going to the Ordersee?

- Yes.

“Go in peace, char Tobius.

“I can’t let go of everything. Today they will baselessly accuse you, and tomorrow they will blame the entire Academy. It is important. In addition, I have little experience with the Petrians. One of them turned out to be quite a normal and intelligent person. Creepy and very strict in judgment, but still good. This gives hope. By the way, it's not you who kill people and steal children, right?

The wizards looked at each other. The necromancer did not resent the unexpected insult, the gray magician did not avert his burning yellow eyes, did not feel any shame or embarrassment from his question.

I can't defend the guilty. You understand.

"What if it's me?" Will you go further or help the monks?

"No," Tobius replied. “I will destroy you.

- Is it true?

- Is it true. If I believe that you are the one doing the trick, I will immediately attack you and make every effort to destroy you. And believe me, char Maren, I will succeed. Despite the fact that we are on your territory, practically under your tower, I will destroy you, and I will raze this place to the ground and pour a mountain of salt from above.

This is how communication between magicians abruptly flows from peaceful sympathy to the readiness to immediately rush into the attack and bite the enemy with their own teeth. Otherwise, wizards could not communicate - too much energy was spent on self-control. Because of this side of their nature, it was difficult for them to cooperate, and simply tolerate each other, so the years of study at the Academy among the many of their kind always seemed the most difficult.

“I had nothing to do with this,” Marin said.

- Fine.

— Did you believe me?

- Shouldn't I?

- I'm a necromancer.

“Not the only one in the Westerreich. Besides, I knew a necromancer who never lied. His name was Malkarus.

“I knew him too.

- Is it true?

“Come on, char Tobius, how many necromancers study at the Academy?” One in two hundred neophytes! We all knew each other. It seems that he should have completed his studies five years later than me.

“Did you receive the wand seven years ago?”

- Approximately.

Tobius showed no surprise. His interlocutor must have been barely in his thirties, but he looked solidly in his forties. An unusual phenomenon for magicians, who, even by the age of one hundred, sometimes retain the appearance of thirty-year-olds.

They didn't speak for a while. Marin was preparing the second portion of breakfast, and the gray wizard drummed his fingers on his knee and stared out the window.

“What are you willing to do to protect your life, char Maren?” he finally asked.

- For many things, but not for confrontation with the Church.

— Yes, what are you fixated on?! No one will fight with the Church! If the Petrian didn't force you to go with him today, he won't force you tomorrow either! However, he will not leave you! If necessary, he will bring the case to the end according to the law! Do you need it?

- I have nothing to hide.

Everyone has something to hide. If the Holy Officer really wants to, he will find a reason to raise you to the stake. Simply because the fewer necromancers the better. I advise you to get ready.

— To the fire?

- To travel. I'll stay with you a little longer than I originally intended.

"Char Thobius, why are you doing this?"

The gray mage, who had already emptied the second plate, wiped his lips with a towel and shrugged.

“The Guiding Thread brought me here for something. So something must be done.

All day Tobius sat in the dining room and studied his book. Using a magical bright blue pen, he applied new systems, drawings and weaves of enchantment to the pages, tried to apply them in building a new spell, and if in the end he was disappointed in their potential, then he pryed the lines with the writing tip of the pen and dropped them on a blotter in the form of ink blots . In the intervals between this occupation and food, he laid out on the table many different parts of a certain mechanism and began to assemble them together. From the side, this device, not yet properly assembled, looked like a round object sparkling with polished bronze and copper with a strange dial, on which there were pictures instead of numbers.

The next morning the gray wizard awoke in the dark, refreshed himself with cold water, dressed and waited in an empty hall. Feeling that he was gradually falling back into sleep, he went out to breathe in the morning coolness.

After soaking his boots in the dew as he walked up and down the crossroads, Tobius felt the need to relieve himself. In the process of this business, he inadvertently lifted his head up and immediately regretted it. For the last few days the sky had been leaden from the clouds that covered it, and the magician safely forgot about it - about the comet, about the long curved stroke, red, like the edges of a chopped wound inflicted on celestial bodies. But she was there, day and night, crawling across the sky like a red-hot worm, ominous and promising mortals many troubles. Appearing about two years ago, this damned comet did not want to disappear.

The monks arrived just as early as the previous morning. By that time, Marin was already downstairs and met them along with Tobius.

“I see you are ready for the journey, char Maren.

“Ready,” the gray mage answered instead of the necromancer, “but not to travel in your company.

The Petrian stared silently at Tobius, waiting for more. Creepy, creepy look.

“Brother Olvech, as far as I know, something terrible is going on in the county of Highbordan. Something that my fellow Gift has nothing to do with. Instead of resorting to our help, you are trying to catch all the magicians around, which only helps the villain to hide from the hands of Justice. In the meantime, there is no evidence that the bearers of magic were involved in the atrocities ...

“Allow me to interrupt you,” the Petrian interrupted calmly, “but we have reason to believe that witchcraft was used.

“If you are talking about a village in which all the inhabitants disappeared, then this could have been done without magic. A few dozen musketeers are enough to drive the Villans with a single volley over their heads. Commoners become very submissive at the sight of weapons.

"How do you know about the village, char Tobius?" This knowledge is prohibited from disclosure.

“It is impossible to conceal a secret in the open air. In addition, I can cast spells to see everything and everything at a distance of three day's marches. Well, not quite everything, of course, but everything that is in the open air. So it wasn't difficult.

“Char Thobius, we are wasting our time with you. What are you looking for?

“In short, I offer myself and Chara Maren to the service of the Holy Officium. Temporarily. When I learned about the horrors that were happening on the roads, I decided that, as a good Amlotian, I could not stand aside. In the meantime, if we can figure out what's going on, Chara Maren's suspicions will be cleared, won't they?

The monk was silent for a long time. Frighteningly long, given the circumstances. At the same time, not a single muscle moved on his face - absolute calmness on the verge of apathy.

“We were not tasked with investigating the murders directly.

Is this a reason not to do a good deed?

“This is a reason to obey the elder brothers and fulfill the assigned mission.

“We can do it my way,” said Tobius, “or my way. Either we wait for the appearance of three masters from the Academy to inflict a legal trial of the magical tribunal on Char Maren, which will prove his innocence and hide him within the walls of the Academy, or we will try to save the lives that can still be saved. What is preferable?

“It is preferable for us to take Chara Maren by force.

The two silent companions of Tobius, who had hitherto been sitting on the sidelines, stood up with a creak and clang. An empty semblance of support: none of them would have held out against the Johnite for long.

“Where have you soaped yourself, protectors?” Sit down! Tobius ordered.

They obeyed.

“Brother Olveh, either you accept our offer, or in half an hour this place will be just ruins and a few dead bodies!” This is the most undesirable, the most frightening outcome for me, I swear! But I also swear before the face of the Lord-Blacksmith, I will not allow to commit lawlessness! No one, especially His servants!

Tobius placed his hand on the head of the wand and stared straight into the unblinking, eerie eyes of the Petrian. The necromancer visibly tensed, a look of faint sadness on Brother Horace's broad face, both of his hands under his cloak, perhaps already on his weapon. Olveh, who was not in the least afraid of the threats, finally nodded weakly:

— So be it. You and I will go in search, and if the Lord-Blacksmith so desires, we will be at the right time in the right place. If not, then after the expiration of the seven-day period, Brother Horas and I will take Char Maren into custody and carry out the mission entrusted to us. If you wish to interfere with us, we also will not hold back and pour out the cup of divine wrath on you.

- Seven days. Tobius removed his hand from the wand. We will seek and pray, pray and seek. We're leaving right now! Char Maren, I forgot to ask, do you have any objections?

— None. The necromancer adjusted the fibula of his cloak. “Anything is better than riding in a magic wagon.”

The monks left the "Cemetery Yard" without waiting for the wizards.

“It's just a delay. I wanted more time, and Brother Olvech gave it to me, but in doing so, he demanded the right to take you without further ado if we failed.

We have seven days. In seven days, the Hammerholder made his way from one of the many preachers to the messiah recognized by all, who ascended to the heavenly chambers.

- Your truth. Is the raven already in the sky?

— Flies around the territory from the night.

- Then let's go. Ruffian, Reaper, follow me!

Before finally leaving his inn, the necromancer cast a protective charm on him for about a quarter of an hour. A terrible thing will happen to that unfortunate person who tries to rob this place in the absence of the owner.