Despite really wishing Sunday wouldn't arrive so soon, it came quite quickly. And along with it came Parent's Day.
My mood was absolutely awful. The entire second half of the week turned out to be a complete disaster.
First, I got chewed out by the headmaster because of those two idiots from the Maple Class. I told him I had nothing to do with it, but he didn't believe me, having decided that Alexey and I were responsible for the students' night terrors.
He also asked when those strange visions would stop haunting them, but I kept my silence, acting as if I hadn't heard. What was the point of telling him? It'd pass in a couple of weeks. For now, let them suffer. Next time, they'd think twice before poking their noses where they shouldn't.
Second, Alexey and I were banned from going to Belozersk that weekend, so I didn't get the chance to meet with Konstantin or learn more about the crystal dealer. It looked like we'd have to postpone selling the crystal until at least the following weekend.
Third, Alexey had been sulking for three days now because he also got chewed out by Orlov over those fools.
He didn't care much about the trip to Belozersk, but he wasn't used to getting scolded by the headmaster. He was the epitome of properness, a real goodie-two-shoes, and a stickler for rules.
Without hesitation, he blamed me for the two Maples lying in the infirmary. Though, to his credit, he said he believed I had my reasons for cursing them.
Trouble, trouble, and nothing but trouble... No cause for celebration anywhere.
And to top it all off, like the cherry on a decadent chocolate cake, not a single person came to visit me on Sunday. What a surprise. As it turned out, my parents were getting along just fine without me. Grandpa didn't show up either, though I couldn't blame him. They'd long since forbidden him to see me, claiming they didn't want him "filling my head with all sorts of nonsense."
That day, the school was swarming with visitors. They filled the entire park — mothers, fathers, little brothers, little sisters, grandmothers, grandfathers, dogs, cats. Entire households had shown up to see the young masters and ladies. I was only mildly surprised they hadn't brought a few hundred servants too.
I took refuge among the ruins of the old training building. Without Petka, it was quiet and peaceful, so I sat in silence, lost in my thoughts.
I didn't feel like thinking about anything in particular, nor did I want to talk to Dorian. I just wanted to sit quietly and do nothing at all. I'd probably skip dinner. I didn't feel like fighting someone's sibling for the last piece of toast.
And then, just as I had settled into my quiet, my phone suddenly rang. Could it be that my parents finally decided to explain why they couldn't come?
But I was mistaken. It wasn't my parents calling to apologize for abandoning their only child. It was Alexey.
"Hello?"
"Hey, Max! Where did you run off to?" he asked, sounding surprised. "You weren't in your room. I also couldn't find you in the park. I figured you wouldn't leave without me, especially since we're not allowed to leave the school. Where are you hiding?"
"Why do you ask?" I replied, hesitant to reveal my hideout.
"Your parents didn't come, did they?"
I said nothing.
"Listen, would you like to join us for lunch?"
I lowered the phone from my ear and paused to think. What should I do? Refusing felt awkward, but I didn't really feel like seeing anyone either.
Though Alexey's lunch offer would surely be tastier than the cafeteria's fare. Maybe there'd even be cake. Perhaps we could patch things up while we were at it...
"Well, I suppose I could," I finally agreed.
"Great!" he said, and judging by the cheerful tone in his voice, he was glad I'd accepted. "We'll be here."
"Where are you exactly?"
"We've pitched a tent near the Pacific Ocean. Can't miss us," he replied. "See you soon!"
"See you," I said, and after lingering for a bit longer, I set out to find Alexey and his family.
It turned out to be quite easy. If you didn't see his tent, you'd have to be blind.
Though, calling it a tent was a bit of a stretch. It was more like a circus marquee, the kind I'd seen in pictures. Only instead of bright, vibrant colors, it was a shade of milky coffee. At its peak, a flag fluttered proudly, bearing the emblem of the Naryshkin family.
And one tent was hardly the extent of it. In addition to the largest, there were several smaller ones, along with a barbecue grill, a massive table, and a few blankets laid out for lounging. Why not? It was a warm autumn day, perfect weather to sit on the grass and relax if the mood struck.
Around the lake, a handful of other tents clustered together, some even more numerous than the prince's, though all notably smaller.
Everywhere, the same lively scene — voices mingling in cheerful chatter, bursts of joyful laughter, smoke curling up from the grills... All the familiar signs of a lively family picnic.
When they saw me, Alexey waved his hand eagerly. He was sitting at a table alongside a man. Likely his father, from the resemblance they shared. The two looked strikingly alike.
I waved back.
Servants bustled about, still bringing out plates of food, though there was hardly any space left on the table. Some dishes had to be stacked one atop the other in a haphazard tower of culinary delights.
My eyes scanned the spread, and I couldn't help but swallow hard.
What a tempting sight. It was a wise choice not to refuse. After weeks of monotonous cafeteria fare, everything here looked utterly scrumptious. The enticing aroma alone made my stomach rumble in anticipation.
"Sit with me," Alexey beckoned, pointing to a soft, plush chair beside him. "The meat's almost ready."
"It smells great," I said. "I love shashlik!"
"Dad, this is Maxim Temnikov, the one I told you about," he said as I took a seat. "My good friend."
"I've heard quite a bit about you," Alexey's father said with a subtle smile playing on his lips.
"Good things, I hope?" I chuckled.
"Various things," he replied with a slight evasiveness, extending his hand in greeting. "Nikolai Fedorovich Naryshkin."
"Pleased to make your acquaintance," I responded.
"So you're the reason why my son was called to the headmaster's office," Nikolai said with a faint smirk lurking behind his thick mustache.
"It piqued my curiosity. It's unlike my boy."
"Indeed," I replied with a faint smile. "I suppose I'm not exactly the most exemplary company."
"I wouldn't go that far," he said. "Orlov spoke very highly of you.
Honestly, I'm glad he brought you two together. Alex is one of those rare individuals with few real friends, and I've always trusted my son's judgment. If the two of you have become friends, then I'd say that's exactly how fate meant it to be."
"Still, you mentioned the headmaster reprimanded him..."
"Bah." Nikolai waved his hand dismissively. "What's the point of youth if you don't get into trouble? God knows I didn't avoid it when I was your age. Ah, but that's a story for another time. I'll tell you about it someday."
Alexey and I exchanged glances and shared a smile — apparently, we weren't the school's most notorious troublemakers after all, which already felt like a small victory. Still, I was growing tired of the weekly summons to the headmaster's office, each one ending with another stern lecture. How wonderful it'd be if he simply stopped calling me in altogether.
"They say you've awakened a Dark Gift. Is that true?" Nikolai asked, his voice calm but curious.
"Yes," I said with a nod, deciding to indulge in a bit of boasting. "I can even raise skeletons."
"Impressive," Nikolai said with a respectful nod. "Alexey isn't capable of that yet..."
Of course, I already knew that. Dorian had taught me more than most kids my age ever came close to, even the children of princely families who were a few years older.
"That's precisely why I believe your friendship is a good thing," Nikolai continued thoughtfully. "Having someone to teach you new things is a blessing. Especially in our line of work. The Dark Gift is something special. It's not about filling a glass with water or growing violets; it demands a sharp mind and a cold heart. Without those, everything can quickly spiral into chaos."
"Exactly," I agreed with a smile.
I was beginning to appreciate Nikolai's straightforwardness. He wasn't nearly as scary as I imagined he'd be. He seemed much more relaxed than my father. He was certainly more fun.
At that moment, a platter of fragrant shashlik was placed before us.
The meat was liberally sprinkled with white onions, and an irresistible aroma wafted from it, so intoxicating that I felt lightheaded just breathing it in.
"I see you're hungry," Nikolai said with a warm smile, watching as Alexey and I practically devoured the meat with our eyes. "Nothing like fresh air to work up an appetite. Go on, dig in. I won't offer you wine just yet, but help yourselves to everything else."
We didn't need to be asked twice. We tore into the food like starving dogs. Nikolai looked on with quiet amusement, and after a moment, he joined us, savoring the meal alongside us.
*** Having eaten our fill, we lingered a while longer in easy conversation. Eventually, I slipped away to my room. I was thoroughly exhausted and longed for sleep, and since it was Sunday, why not give in?
There was no need to sit at the Naryshkins' table until evening. After all, I wasn't family.
I had no idea how long I'd been asleep when Dorian's voice stirred me from my rest.
Get up already! he said impatiently. Judging by the annoyed tone in his voice, he'd been trying to wake me for quite some time.
"What do you want?" I asked, rubbing my eyes and stifling a yawn.
"It's Sunday, I have every right to sleep as long as I please."
You'll sleep your whole life away! You could be doing other things instead of lounging about!
"Like what?" I yawned and gazed out the window. Night had nearly fallen. "If you tell me I should be studying, I'll exorcise you."
I need to have a serious talk with you.
"About what?" I asked, raising an eyebrow. "And if you start again about the Black Castle—" No, I won't. Not right now, at least, Dorian assured me. There's something important we need to discuss, but it's better to do it in Tenedom.
I was a little surprised he was willing to spend the energy to go there. Still, it sounded like a good idea. It had been a while since we last visited.
"Let's go," I said. "Get out your Portal Key."
Oh no. You're doing it this time, he replied. I've already shown you how.
"Are you out of your mind? I don't remember the sigil."
That's not my problem, he shot back. You think I'll be drawing it for you forever? Back in my day, I knew a hundred sigils by heart...
"All right, I get it." I cut him off before he could launch into one of his long monologues about how brilliant he'd been at my age and how he used to eat dragons for breakfast. "I'll give it a try."
I closed my eyes and focused, trying to recall the pattern.
How did it go again...?
I recalled the general shape of the sigil but the key was in the details. I had to carefully recreate each intricate line...
A blue square filled with runes capable of manipulating reality...
At first, nothing happened. An hour passed as Dorian waited patiently and I remained focused. Then, at last, everything clicked. The familiar blue square lit up in my mind, etched with countless runes, each one neatly enclosed in its own tiny cell.
Huh. That wasn't so hard after all. Now I just needed to draw the pattern...
This line first...
It took about fifteen minutes, with Dorian's help, before the correct arrangement of runes began to glow with a vivid, steady light. It was a demanding task. By the time I finally got it right, I was drenched in sweat.
At last, a brilliant flash of light burst forth, and everything around me spun chaotically before I found myself once again in a familiar clearing.
Everything looked just as it had the last time, except now night had settled over Tenedom, calm and still.
"Where shall we have our talk?" I asked Dorian.
Our room will do.
I had barely taken a few steps toward the cozy cottage with its tiled roof when the door creaked open, and Hornborn's voice rang out.
"Who's there? Is that you, Max-Dorian?"
Well, that was certainly a way to call me...
"Who else could it be?" I responded with a grin.
Hearing my voice, the dwarf darted out of the house. With loud stomps that echoed across the surrounding clearing, he hurried over and wrapped me in a hug so tight I felt my bones creak.
"Hornborn... my... my bones..." I squeaked, mustering my strength.
It was no easy feat to speak normally when a giant dwarf with fists the size of small oaks was squeezing you in an iron grip.
"W'ere 'ave ya been?" he asked, gently setting me down. "Lacry and I thought ya'd vanished again for another couple o' years."
"No, everything's fine," I reassured him after catching my breath and restoring my voice. "I was just busy with... stuff..."
"Ah, I see..." He nodded knowingly. "Lacry's wanderin' 'round in the woods, but Bormotun's at 'ome."
"Good, good," I said, heading toward the house. "I'll be in my room if you need me."
"Whatever ya say. Should I put on the kettle?"
"Yeah, that'd be nice."
I stepped into the house and hurried up to the tower on the second floor, where Dorian's old room was situated.
"Who's Bormotun?" I asked, comfortably settled into a chair.
"Bormot... Bormot," I suddenly heard a voice from the right.
I turned my head. For a moment, there was nothing. Then, very slowly, something large began to materialize from the void.
At first, it appeared as a massive, light-gray ball of fur. Then, gradually, eyes, ears, and paws followed. After a couple of minutes, what sat before me looked like... a panda? A raccoon? A giant cat?
No, it was probably some bizarre hybrid of all three. Crazy as that combination sounded.
That's Bormotun, Dorian finally said. As long as you don't provoke him, he's the gentlest creature in the world.
"Bormot," the little creature confirmed his words with a grin.
"Unbelievable! He can smile?" I asked, thrilled.
Yep. He can also turn invisible whenever he pleases.
"Wow! Does he understand words?"
He understands just fine, Dorian assured me. But he's incredibly selective about what he hears and when. If it benefits him, he's all ears. If not, he pretends he doesn't understand a thing. Clever little trickster...
"Where did you find him?"
Nowhere. He's always been here. As far as I understand, Tenedom is his homeland. He just strolled out of the forest one day while Lacry and I were munching on a melon, and he's been living with me ever since.
Every now and then, though, he disappears into the woods whenever the mood strikes him.
"That's pretty cool!"
Bormotun's face instantly lit up with a radiant smile, and he stretched out his massive paws toward me eagerly.
He's a glutton. He'll eat everything he lays his eyes on. And I mean everything. I have no idea what his stomach is made of, but he even swallowed Hornborn's ax once.
"Really? That's fascinating," I said, gently reaching out to feel his paws, which were warm and incredibly soft. "And what happened after that?"
We told him he shouldn't go around gobbling up axes whenever he feels like it.
"And he listened?"
Nope. He just didn't like the taste, that's all. Lacry told him a hundred times that he shouldn't be raiding the basement for jam whenever the mood strikes, but he just pretends he doesn't understand, gobbling it up along with the jars.
"Has a sweet tooth, does he?"
Absolutely. He loves marshmallows.
"Marshmallows?"
"Bormot?" the creature perked up at the mention, eyes shining with hope as he looked at me.
If someone offered to trade his paw for a couple of pounds of marshmallows, he wouldn't even think twice. He'd give both paws in an instant.
Carefully, I reached out and stroked Bormotun's head. He closed his eyes, purring softly, contentment radiating from every inch of his enormous form. Just like that. A bear, mixed with a raccoon that purred like a giant cat... It was simply mind-blowing!
At that precise moment, Hornborn stepped into the room, bearing a tray upon which rested a steaming teapot, a delicate cup, and a small plate of cookies. A delightful aroma of herbs wafted through the air.
"Imma be downstairs," the dwarf announced with a calm, measured tone before quietly closing the door behind him.
I nodded in acknowledgment, reached out, and took a cookie, then offered another to Bormotun, who carefully accepted it and scurried off to the far corner of the room, seeking a quiet nook to enjoy his snack.
"You seem to have something on your mind?" I couldn't hide my eagerness to begin our conversation. My curiosity was bubbling over.
Yes, I believe I've uncovered a way to return to my own world, he replied, a glimmer of hope flickering in his voice.
"Really now?"
But I'll need your help, he added with a hint of seriousness.
"My help? That sounds a bit... ominous," I responded, a cautious note creeping into my tone.
Dorian was quite a character. Hadn't he once warned me that witches were cunning and that I should be careful around Lacrimosa? Well, I never doubted he was both smarter and more cunning than any witch.
Sure, he lost the game once and died, but even that hadn't stopped him.
That only proved my point. So if anyone asked, I'd say he was definitely cleverer than Lacrimosa. No question about it. The ideas he came up with were so wild and intricate, you really had to think twice before acting on them.
I want to make a pact with you, Maxim Temnikov, he said, his voice steady but laced with an air of mystery.
A pact? Just like some kind of supernatural creature straight out of a legend! Still, I was curious. What thoughts were swirling in his mind this time? I could listen, but I wasn't obliged to agree immediately.
"Tell me what you've come up with," I said, leaning in with anticipation.