Chapter 4

Even from afar, the destruction that the fort had undergone during the siege was visible. Round gate towers lost their tops, and one of the corner towers melted like a candle stub. The walls gaped with breaches, the dry moat was barely visible in the lush thickets of thorns.

- Do you feel anything? - the elf asked Carlon.

- May be. - The mage scratched his beard. - Nothing specific.

Closing his eyelids, he saw a shaky green flicker, repeating the outlines of the fortifications. At the base of the least battered of the towers, an emerald light burned - a still-functioning fortress amulet, embedded in the foundation. It blew wild magic - like an electrified wind, foreshadowing an imminent thunderstorm.

- It’s better not to go to the western tower, - the master said, opening his eyes. - Everything else seems to be clean.

- So the catch is something else, - Valria chuckled. She jumped down, tossed her horse's bridle to the sergeant. Girl took off her cloak and threw it on the saddle. - Wait here, I'll scout out the approaches.

Grabbing only a magazine crossbow, the girl dived into the thick of the bush, instantly disappeared from sight. For a minute or two the magician saw a white feather flickering among the branches, then he lost sight of that too. And almost immediately began to feel growing anxiety. For some reason, it always seemed to him that if he let Valria go somewhere alone, she would definitely get into trouble - fall into a hole, be devoured by someone, or, at worst, struck by lightning in broad daylight. Interestingly, he felt this excitement only when working with an elf in a pair. While she was turning her extravagant adventures without his participation, the magician did not worry about the girl in the slightest. Fortunately, the master did not have to toil for a long time in the company of the silent Dallan - Valria returned in half an hour. Appearing from a completely different direction from where she left, she waved her hand to her companions. Without saying a word, she went up to her white-maned mare, took a large flask from her saddle bag, and drank some water. Wiping her lips with a glove, she busily began to untie the scabbard with a sword from her saddle.

- Tell me already, long-eared! – Carlon flared up – although he knew that Valria expected this from him.

- We must hurry, we have competitors. - The girl tightened the sword belt on her chest, moving the quiver from her left thigh back so as not to interfere.

- Who? How? - Dallan asked in a calm voice. Carlon, in fact, was not dumbfounded by the news either - he knew from the very beginning that something would go wrong. The only question was what exactly.

- I don't know yet, but there are traces of battle in the courtyard of the fortress. - Valria slipped on her cloak, fastened a sling to her infantry crossbow, and slung it over her shoulder. - Puddles of blood, a dozen corpses. And horses. Two harnessed carts, six riding horses. Tied. The corpses are stacked in a row - it means that someone took care. There is no one else in the yard. They must have gone underground. Pulls gunpowder when the wind is in our direction. Shot recently. Let's go take a closer look. I alone did not dare to go there.

The group entered the shadow of the towers shattered by cannonballs and magic, leading the horses by the bridle. The moat crumbled so much that it no longer served as a barrier, they passed the wall through a wide gap. Everything that the elf told about was found in the square courtyard of the fort. Other people's horses were tied to a still strong stone hitching post near the blocked gate. They greeted the appearance of strangers with alarming snorts and neighs. Valria, not at all afraid of a kick or a bite, approached the worried herd. She stroked one horse on the forehead, another on the neck, said a few tender words to them, which she probably never said to any man - and the neighing subsided. Carlon, meanwhile, went to the corpses piled under the far wall. Taking a closer look, he raised his eyebrows.

- What kind of rubbish is this, in the name of the Creator?

Three of the dead turned out to be people - judging by the clothes and simple leather armor, mercenaries. The other five are strange. In general terms, humanoid, they did not even resemble each other. One gray-skinned creature had a tuft of tentacles protruding from its shoulders instead of a head, while another had a horny beak on the front half of its skull, with no trace of eyes or nose. One creature had no skin at all - through the mesh of the muscles of the torso, strangely twisted, blackened internal organs were visible. Three of the monsters showed no signs of sex, two were undeniably male. Valria, who came up, glanced at the latter, wrinkled her nose:

- I don’t know if these guys have a mind, but they definitely don’t have shame and conscience.

- A bit like corpse eaters, - added the swordswoman who joined them. Unlike the magician and the elf, the green-eyed girl only cast a short glance at the bodies, and now looked around vigilantly, closing her fingers on the hilt of the sword.

- But definitely not corpse-eaters, - the captain shook her head.

- Maybe…were corpse-eaters. But rather, people. - Carlon couldn't take his eyes off the ugly bodies. Bullet holes and traces of chopping blows did not add beauty to them. - It's… flesh distortion. This happens due to exposure to raw magical energy. Per person, per animal. A living being changes chaotically... but does not die. Combat magic does not give such an effect. Any magic turned into spell form does not. It's something else. And that something was here. The distorted do not have the intelligence to go far from the place where they were transformed.

- That's our catch, then. - The elf furrowed her eyebrows, staring at her hand. - Won’t we become the same if we climb into the cellars? I… got used to my appearance. Especially for hair.

- Don't worry, we won't. I appreciate your hair too, - Carlon reassured the girl almost without sarcasm. - If your appearance does not compensate for your character, you will become completely impossible… Hey!

Thanks to the reflexes developed over the years of mercenary work, the master managed to block a blow to the liver and took a step back:

- Sorry. In general, if the residual background of wild magic was so strong here that the flesh was distorted from it, I would feel it from afar. Even through earth and stone. No, it was something like a flash, a splash, years ago. I bet something happened during the siege. And these poor fellows are people, soldiers. Were.

- And they've been living here ever since. - The elf pursed her lips. - But they could keep...

- No.

- Then it's our duty to put them to rest, - Dallan said without turning around as she watched the buildings at the back of the yard. - Their bodies are alive, which means that their souls cannot get to the Creator.

- Only on occasion. - Valria shook her bruised hand and flexed her fist. - For now, we need to go down, and I’ll be glad not to meet a single local resident along the way.

- And what are we going to do downstairs? - Carlon asked. - If we catch up with competitors - will we arrange a fight?

- You'll see it there. The main thing is to catch up.

- Everything is as usual, - the master chuckled. - Your signature methods…

- I am one hundred and four years old. At this age, it's too late to change habits. - The elf's smile, as always, was completely disarming.

There was no need to look for a descent into the cellars of the fort - like in all similar fortifications, it was located on the lower floor of the central tower. But here new problems arose. The passage under the ground turned out to be tightly sealed with a solid door upholstered with rusty iron strips. The elf put her ear to the door and tapped it with her knuckles. She stretched out, retreating:

- Thick... And door hinges inside. How did the door survive the assault?

- The records say that the Imperials dug into the cellars of the fort, - Carlon recalled. - And they broke in when the defenders were on the walls. So the door wasn't locked. But why is it closed now?

- What's the difference? - Valria wiped her dusty ear with a handkerchief. - Can you take it down with your magic?

- There is no amulet on the door, so... - the master unbuttoned the pocket of the sling, pulled out a disk woven from gold wire with a scarlet stone in the center. - I can do this thing. But there is a risk that the corridor will collapse, especially if it turns just outside the door and the fire hits the wall before it weakens. And I also need to pour so much energy into the amulet that you will drag me further on yourself. And then you'll fatten me up with meat pies for a week. Mind you, I do not like it when there are a lot of onions.

- You will not get it. - The elf snorted and put her index finger in the middle of her forehead. - I will not share pies with you... We need another option.

- Digging, - the sergeant said calmly.

- What? - Valria tossed her head.

- The tunnel through which the besiegers entered the fortress, - Dallan explained patiently, as for a small child. - Let's find a tunnel. Master Carlon, do you remember where it starts? The customer showed you a map.

- Yes I remember. - The mage rubbed the back of his head. - But in ten years it has definitely collapsed.

- Still, it's worth checking out. - The violet eyes of the elf flared with familiar fire. - Come on, hurry up!

The grove, which once hid the beginning of the dig from the eyes of the fort's defenders, was now visible through and through - after all, there were no leaves left on the trees. The sharp-sighted elf was the first to notice the boards sticking out of the ground, pointed to them. The group reached the place at a trot, dismounted. Carlon cursed through his teeth, muttered:

- I told you...

Where the Imperial military engineers had first struck the ground with picks and shovels, there was now a deep, oblong pit, merging into an even deeper ditch that stretched towards the fort. Of course, the hastily dug tunnel did not survive the test of time.

- Let's drive along it to the end, - Dallan suggested, not a bit upset.

- Why? - The elf turned to her.

- If the tunnel collapsed along its entire length ...

- Wait, I understand, - Carlon interrupted the girl. - But it all depends on pure luck.

- I have no problems with luck. - Valeria winked at them both. - What should we be lucky in?

- You'll see. – The magician did not miss the chance to repay the captain with her own coin. Dallan unexpectedly supported him without saying anything either.

They rode back to the fortress, following the ditch like a guiding thread. All this time, the elf frowned at the magician from under the brim of her hat, clearly cherishing plans for revenge. Knowing what she was capable of, the master did not torment the girl for longer than necessary. Already approaching the ruins, he pointed with his finger:

- Look. Where the tunnel passed under the wall, it also collapsed. If we're lucky, the debris from the wall didn't completely fill the hole...

They were lucky. A black hole was visible in the inner wall of the moat, only partially covered with fragments of stone and clods of dry earth. The sun was now setting on the other side of the fortress, and the gap was sinking into shadow. The mercenaries descended into the ditch. Carlon drove a peg with a ring into the ground, secured a long strong cable. Dallan pursed her lips tightly as she cut down a couple of thorny bushes blocking the passage with her sword. The captain all this time stood on the edge of the gap with a crossbow at the ready, peering into the darkness.

- I hear something, - she said, twitching her ears. - Looks like someone was shooting downstairs.

The master unhooked another flask from his belt and handed it to the sergeant:

- Drink this. Night vision for two hours.

- Military mixture? - the green-eyed swordswoman clarified, taking the flask.

- Of course, - Carlon nodded. The military version of the potion not only increased the sensitivity of the eyes to light - after it, the vision reacted flexibly to changes in lighting, allowing not to go blind from a sudden flash of fire. - Valria, you don’t need to?

- No, round-eared barbarian, I'm still an elf, in case you haven't noticed, - the captain snorted without turning around. All her attention was riveted on the failure, the tips of her ears were trembling. The girl listened to the sounds coming from the catacombs.

- Well, good. There may not be even weak light sources underground, so take these things and hang them on your belts. – The magician took out three bluish transparent pebbles from the waist bag, exuding a barely noticeable radiance. More than enough for night vision.

He closed his eyes tightly, drew the necessary sign in the air with two fingers, read the spell and sent a bit of magical energy into his own body. The sensation was as if ice water had been splashed on the eyeballs from the inside of the head. Hooting, the master lifted his eyelids. The dim light of the dying day hurt his eyes, but Carlon stoically endured the pain, not even grimacing - the feeling was familiar. The magician had to stand night guards even after the war.

- All down! - the elf commanded. – Dallan first, Carlon closes. Don't get stuck with your belly.

The magician grumbled something under his breath, but did not respond to the prompting. He let the girls go first and went down last, holding on tightly to the cable. He was not in danger of getting stuck in a hole, but sliding down a pile of earth was easy. Sintered dry clods slid under the soles of the boots, only the edges of stone blocks sticking out here and there, which had fallen into the old dig along with the ground, could serve as a support. At the very end, he slipped, but Valria, who was waiting at the ready, supported him in time.

- I didn’t even doubt that you would stumble, - she said, helping the magician get off the earthen heap.

- Thank you, – Carlon squeezed out gratitude through force, looking around. The dip led them into a large square room, completely empty. Half of the room was filled with earth from the sinkhole. On the other side was a door, covered with a flap hanging on one hinge. Dallan stood in front of the door, sword at the ready.

- Imperial soldiers entered the basement here, - the elf said, standing next to her friend. – This should be the second level of the dungeons, the first one we skipped. The customer believes that the gold is stored on the last, third. Where are our competitors...

Her answer was the echo of a rifle volley, booming under the entire dungeon.

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- Yeah, - the girl nodded in satisfaction. - Somewhere around here. If we hurry, we will get to the goal first, take up defenses there and talk with the guests, sitting on the chests.

- Do you still think there's some gold in there? - the mage asked skeptically.

- I'm sure it isn't. - The elf straightened her hat that had gone astray, smoothed the feather with her palm. - But there is a mystery, and this is much better.

She gently touched the crookedly hanging door with her fingertips... and it collapsed outward, throwing a cloud of dust in half with wood dust. Valria coughed, covering her mouth and nose with the hem of her cloak, her eyes filled with tears. The sergeant, obviously holding her breath, stepped into the corridor, looked left, right, and gestured that the path was clear.

The dungeon of the dead fortress met new intruders with cold and dust. But there was no talk of silence - somewhere on the left hand, volleys of several arquebuses rumbled measuredly, completely eerie sounds were heard, vaguely reminiscent of animal cries and howls. Whoever the people who descended into the cellars first were, they moved slowly, without unnecessary risk, methodically sweeping away all obstacles in their path with fire. Obviously, all the indigenous inhabitants of the dungeons were drawn to them. So far, Carlon and his companions have seen paw prints on the dusty floor and unpleasant-looking scratches on the stone walls as signs of life. The magician mentally rejoiced that in front of them lies an ordinary abandoned basement, in which one should not be afraid of any ingenious traps. The danger was represented only by the creatures that settled in the forgotten tunnels. Nevertheless, they advanced with all precautions. Sergeant Dallan walked first, followed by an elf woman a little to the left. Valria's sword rested in its sheath. Instead of a blade, she held a repeating crossbow at the ready, relying more on a successful point-blank shot than swordsmanship in such close quarters. Covering the backs of the girls, Carlon stroked the handle of the infantry cleaver - the master could snatch it very quickly.

The corridor led them first from north to south, then turned sharply to the east. Then came the crossroads, where the thunder of gunshots and the howling of monsters became more audible. The map provided by the employer helped to choose the right direction, and after a couple of minutes, leaving the shooting behind, the travelers found themselves in front of a stone staircase to the lower tier.

- Almost there, - Valria said quietly. The sergeant nodded and cautiously descended the chipped steps. She looked around at the lower platform, waved her hand, calling her companions. Three corridors led off the stairs.

- We have to go straight ahead. - The captain took a step towards the middle aisle and froze. She said worriedly: - I hear footsteps. There…

A moment later, from the darkness of the corridor, a blurry gray mass darted straight at the elf like a cannonball. Reflexes did not let any of the mercenaries down - Valria jumped back, and sergeant Dallan appeared in the way of the attacker as if from under the ground. A crossbow clicked, a blade whistled, steel-sliced flesh slurped as a severed claw flew over the sergeant's head. The monster that attacked the elf recoiled back, allowing himself to be examined. Bipedal, covered in a rough gray hide, as tall as Carlon, but much narrower at the shoulders. The thinness of the creature was compensated by long arms, separated behind the elbow joint - so it seemed as if the creature had four arms. Now one hand was missing, a crossbow arrow was sticking out of the monster's chest - but the wounds did not bother him at all. "Gray" opened its mouth full of sharp fangs, let out a guttural roar, and again rushed to the attack. The second arrow Valria drove the creatures in the forehead - with no apparent effect. The sergeant deftly ducked under the monster's outstretched paws, letting its sickle-shaped claws click on her cuirass, slashed from bottom to top, ripping open the enemy's stomach. The creature collapsed on its back... And long black tentacles burst out of its opened belly and reached for the green-eyed girl. She backed away, holding her sword out in front of her. And Carlon finally fished out from the bottom of his waist bag a tightly stuffed pouch, tied with a red ribbon. He loosened the braid with a jerk, stood side by side with Dallan, threw out his hand with the pouch, whispering the right words. Obeying the movements of his brush, the orange powder left the bag, rushed like a sinuous ribbon to the gray-skinned creature, braided it, intertwined a bunch of tentacles, like a real ribbon a bouquet of flowers. The mage snapped his fingers. And the powder turned into a liquid flame. In less than a second, the magically distorted creature was completely drowned in the fire. The tentacles fought for a short time, trying to reach people, but in the end they also drooped. Dallan took a deep breath as she lowered her sword.

- It was his intestines, - Valria said in a completely emotionless voice from behind the mage. – I see a lot in my life, but this...

- It’s always like that with magic — you can never say you’ve seen it all. - Carlon swallowed. He looked around, smiling nervously. - That powder was already worth more than my advance on this case. Saved this thing for a year...

The elf silently took out a gold coin from somewhere under her vest and put it into the magician's hand. He shook his head.

- No, it's your share...

- Take it, or I'll shove it up your collar at night while you sleep. - The captain slapped the master on the shoulder and walked past, on the go removing a half-empty magazine from her crossbow. The sergeant silently patted him on the back from the other side and followed the commander. Sideways, they squeezed past the smoldering remains of the monster, deeper into the corridor.

The ghostly breeze of raw magic got stronger, Carlon literally felt it on his skin. The wild energy did not pose a threat yet, but the feeling was not pleasant, as if you had plunged into a web with your whole body. They were approaching the epicenter of the outbreak that had spawned the monsters that filled the fortress. The master noticed how the usually imperturbable Dallan ran her hand over her face - apparently, she felt a faint echo of what the magician was now experiencing.

- There is no gold there, - for some reason the master said aloud, and Valria looked back at him, put her finger to her lips. After the battle, it hardly made sense to keep silence, but Carlon obediently fell silent. All three mercenaries quickened their pace. If there were enough doors in the corridors on the second tier leading to warehouses and closets, empty or clogged with rotten barrels, then here they had not yet come across a single one. Attacks from the flank were not to be feared, and the target was waiting straight ahead.

A vaulted tunnel lined with gray stone ended in a tall double door. The elf carefully examined it, looked inquiringly at the mage. He nodded. The captain stepped back, letting Dallan to the door. The sergeant pressed the door first. Then she pulled out a ring-handle. Then she hit the sash with her shoulder and the door gave way. Apparently the entrance wasn't locked, just the hinges had been covered in dirt and rust over the decades. The magician joined the girl, leaning against the other door - the door swung open with a piercing creak. The sergeant immediately jumped back, raising her sword, Valria aimed the crossbow over her shoulder - but the master froze on the threshold. He banged his fist against his palm, and with a satisfaction incomprehensible even to himself declared:

- As I said.

The room that opened before their eyes was definitely not a treasury. Tables filled with alchemical utensils, cupboards lined the walls full of magical equipment, and a huge arch of black stone in the center of the room. The vault of the arch collapsed, some of the tables were overturned, a couple of cabinets collapsed, and the floor, in addition to dust, was covered with glass crumbs mixed with scraps of paper.

- A magical laboratory, - said the already obvious fact Carlon. – With fixed portal.

- And I'm ready to pawn my hat that Mr. Sandr knew where he was sending us. - Valria's voice sounded almost enthusiastic. Entering the room, the elf knelt down, picked up a dusty sheet of paper from the floor, brushed it off. - Carlon, can you tell me what they were doing here?

- Perhaps, if I look around. - The master went straight to the black stone arch. Behind him, the sergeant closed the door and stood before her, blade in hand.

- Do you think everything that happened here is because of… this? - Straightening up, the captain pointed to the archway with a nod.

- Surely it is. - The magician climbed onto the stone pedestal that served as the foundation for the arch. He took out a sturdy leather case from his bag, where his glasses were stored on a soft lining. Putting them on his nose, he began to examine the signs dotted with black stone. - An improperly opened portal is the best source for raw magic. Therefore, they are forbidden to open in cities. But in order for the ejection to cover the whole fortress... They had to pump dozens of times more energy into it than usual.

- How many people can go through such an archway? - Valria asked. She left the rubbish on the floor alone and now studied the dishes that had survived on the tables.

- Five, six. And the last two will seriously risk their health. Then you need to open it again.

- So maybe the Iderlings were trying to open… a kind of portal through which more people could be brought through? To transfer reinforcements from the rear, for example? - The elfess removed a pot-bellied retort from the table, wiped the dust off it and looked inside, almost touching the glass with her nose.

- No. - Carlon squatted down to get a better view of the signs on the bottom of the arch. - Research in this area has been going on for centuries, and everyone has long understood that simply adding more magic will not solve the problem. Here is something else. These signs...

- What's wrong with them?

- These are… magical symbols that show the way. But… they are not what we were taught. They are not related to space. Ah… I don't even know. With time. With energy. With otherworldly plans.

- You mean, - the captain turned to him, returning the retort to its place, - that the Coalition tried to open a portal here to move not in space, but in time?

- No. There is something much more complex here. - The master gritted his teeth in annoyance. - I… just don’t have the education to figure it out. Here we need an archmage, moreover, a theoretician, not a military one.

- Then draw it all, - the elf ordered. - I have no doubt that the customer will figure it out himself. Then check these pieces of paper on the floor and tables, maybe we'll take something with us. And I…

- Captain! - Dallan called out to her.

- We have guests, - Valria chuckled. The master also heard quick steps in the corridor - a booming echo carried them far away. He hastily took out an amulet of gold wire, which was not useful upstairs, whispered a few words over it and threw it to the door - so that it would be hidden by the right wing when the door opened. Dallan, meanwhile, stepped back from the threshold, standing between two tables, blocking the direct path from the door to the portal arch.

The high doors swung open from a powerful blow, almost flying off their hinges. People in identical leather armor burst into the laboratory. Three... four... five. Two are armed with arquebuses, two with short swords. The fifth held in his hand a slightly curved saber with a hilt without a cross. He was outwardly different from the rest - short, thin, fair-skinned, slanting eyes, black hair gathered at the top of his head in a bun. A typical native of the Republic of Erdo, a descendant of refugees from the Cherry Islands. Seeing the mercenaries and the magician, the five skillfully reorganized - the arquebusiers stepped back, throwing up their guns, the swordsmen covered the Republican with themselves.

- I thought there would be more of you, - Valria remarked, calmly standing to the left of her sergeant, so that a massive table remained between her and the guests.

- Losses, - the Republican replied calmly. - We were careful, but we did not avoid losses. Please lay down your weapons and leave.

Are you going to check your pockets? - the elf girl inquired.

- Of course, - the man nodded.

- And then let go?

- We don't need you. Only the contents of this room.

- Ah-h... - The elf's long ears stood erect, touching the brim of her hat. - Stop lying. The Republic is part of the Coalition. You are not an adventurer, you were sent here. You know what's here. You know that the most valuable thing in this room is information. You can't let us go because you think the Empire sent us and we might learn something.

- And you are right, perhaps, - the Republican agreed, as if reluctantly. He raised his hand, giving the command to the companions. - Ki...

Carlon breathed out an activation word and snapped his fingers. The golden talisman, waiting for its moment behind the door leaf, came to life. The "Fire Disc" was created for battle mages serving in assault units to break through field fortifications and strong doors with a narrow beam of flame. Now the disc has thrown a jet of fire into the floor directly below it...

The force of the explosion went into the stone slab on which the talisman lay. But the shock wave hit the ears of everyone gathered in the room, raised all the dust that had accumulated on the floor and walls, and also ... slammed the door leaf, which knocked the arquebusier down on the way. The second shooter frantically fired somewhere to the side - and tumbled back with an arrow in his eye socket. Valria jumped to the side, tugging at the lever of her crossbow, Sergeant Dallan rushed to attack the stunned enemies. The first swordsman did not have time to come to his senses - the girl pierced his neck with a stabbing attack. The second one closed with a blade, but immediately received an arrow from the elf in the back, and the sergeant finished him off with a cutting blow to the neck. The arquebusier, knocked down by the door, was about to rise, trying to aim at Dallan, but the magician flew at him, brandishing an infantry cleaver. The sergeant was left alone with the Republican. He skillfully shifted so that the girl covered him with herself from Valria, brought down a hail of quick blows on her. Dallan fought back, but backed away, barely keeping up with her opponent's rhythm. Suddenly, the republican made a deceitful feint, and instead of a new chopping blow, he jumped forward with his whole body, aiming with the tip of his saber at the girl’s stomach not protected by steel. The sergeant, with a movement similar to a dance step, turned half-turn, letting the enemy's blade pass, and struck down. The Republican dropped to one knee, blocked the sergeant's blade with his own... and at the same moment an arrow from a magazine crossbow pierced his temple. Carlon, meanwhile, cornered the enemy, who was fighting off with the butt of a gun, and finished off, first cutting off his fingers on his right hand, and then driving a cleaver into his collarbone.

- Are you okay? - Leaving the crossbow on the floor, Valria ran up to her friend, who was still standing over the corpse of the Republican.

- Yes, - without taking her eyes off the dead body at her feet, the sergeant lowered her sword. - This… could be a good fight.

- Could be. - The elf took the green-eyed girl by the shoulders and turned her around to face her. - Only you’re not a knight to arrange duels, right?

- Yes. Not a knight, - Dallan replied with a strange expression and covered her eyes with an armored glove. She shook her head. - Not a knight.

- Did you finish there? - Carlon asked, wiping the blood from the cleaver on the sleeve of the jacket of the arquebusier still trembling in agony.

- Yes. - The captain let go of her friend's shoulders and walked towards him. - Both are intact, thanks for asking. How is it yourself?

- My muscles hurt, - the mage admitted. - And I don’t even have the strength to support the “owl’s eye”. Will you take me upstairs by the hand?

- You deserved. - The elf smiled and really took his hand. - Let's just finish the job first.

While the magician, by the light of a trophy oil lantern, redrawn the signs from the arch of the portal onto a piece of paper, the girls dragged the corpses to the wall and stuffed a travel bag with tattered papers collected from the tables and the floor. Then Valria busily searched the dead, stuffed a couple of tight purses into an empty crossbow magazine bag, sheathed the Republican saber. Handed the weapon over to Dallan:

- Your trophy. Do not argue.

They ran upstairs, remembering that there should be no more threats in the basement, and it was getting dark on the surface. The mercenaries and the magician came out through the very door through which they had not been able to enter recently - it turned out to be bolted from the inside, the hinges were soundly oiled. In the courtyard, the elf ordered the cart horses to be unharnessed.

- We'll take everyone with us, - she said decisively.

- How can we drag ourselves through the Deadlands with such a herd? - the master was indignant. - We will be heard throughout the neutral zone!

- I won’t leave them here, - Valria lifted her chin stubbornly. - And then, horses are money. I have some doubts about how much we will receive from the customer...

The mage couldn't find anything to say. Leading a dozen horses, they rode away from the ruins of the fort and set up camp already in complete darkness...

* * *

The neutral zone, such an impression, decided that there was enough trouble with the trio of travelers - they reached the borders of the duchy without problems, and even very quickly, thanks to an excess of spare horses. A couple of times, Carlon's amulets began to sound the alarm, and they had to go around dangerous areas, but they did not meet either corpse-eaters or mind-manipulating creatures along the way. Leaving the trophy herd in a suburban stable, the three of them, without saying a word, went to the same guest house and rented rooms closer to each other - just in case. In the evening, a messenger from the innkeeper told Valria that a certain important gentleman was waiting for them in a room on the ground floor...

The second meeting with Mr. Sandr took place at a much more richly laid table. Having done all the necessary manipulations with the candlestick, the auditory opening and the cork, the elf first of all set to the roast, and for about five minutes she wielded the spoon with indescribable grace under the cold gaze of the client. Finally, emptying the bowl, she leaned back on the bench and asked without a smile:

- Mister Sandr, tell me, please... Why didn't His Grace Lord Povikasis address me directly? Why all these games in the dark? We've known him for a long time.

The thin old man chuckled, not at all ominously, contrary to Carlon's expectations. He said, tapping his finger on the rim of the glass of wine:

- Lord Povikasis has been the chief of imperial intelligence for a year now only formally. He is old, and the gout has finished him off. Now all affairs are conducted by the deputy and student of the lord, baron Antonikos. He does not know you personally, but he listened to the recommendations of the mentor when it came to this matter. Just added some precautions. I think your insight will please him. I promise this won't happen again.

- I suppose it was no coincidence that we got to the fort at the same time as the Coalition detachment? Imperial intelligence was stirred up when they learned about the enemy's intention to send an expedition, right?

The old man silently drank from his glass. He nodded.

- What about payment? - Valria raised one eyebrow. Carlon always envied her this ability - he himself did not know how to do this.

- I cannot estimate what one percent of the information you obtained in gold is, but I am authorized to pay you twenty crowns, regardless of the outcome of the case. - Mr. Sandr put a pleasantly clinking bag on the table. - It’s not a treasure, of course…

- But it suits us. - The elf pushed her wallet towards her. - Carlon, pass the papers to Mr. Sandr.

The master moved a tightly stuffed bag towards the customer with his foot, put on the table a piece of paper with symbols copied from the black stone arch. The customer took a quick look at the sheet, hid it in his bosom. He asked, looking into the magician's face:

- And what do you think of your find, master?

- I think that this is not a matter of my rank, - Carlon replied, holding his gaze. - As you remember, I’m just a combat mage practitioner. And then there are some subtle things.

- Well. - The old man shrugged. - Ladies, master, you did a good job. I do not want to deceive you - this whole thing can have consequences. Perhaps I will contact you more than once. Of course, the pay will be decent, and for cases that lady Valria deems unacceptable, we will look for other performers. For now, I must say goodbye.

- Wait. - The elf raised her hand. - I would like to ask you for a small favor.

- Yes?

Valria leaned against the edge of the table and smiled charmingly.

- You, I see, an influential person with useful connections. Could you help me sell a dozen horses for a better price?...