Chapter 19

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"Where are you?"

Before I can turn around to leave, the boss calls me.

"I'd like to change," I looked at Daas with bewilderment. "It's not very convenient to go to the temple in a sports suit..."

"Go like this, don't make the guys nervous waiting."

For a second, I think I read the boss's mind. It feels like he's afraid I'll change my mind and run away. And that would be the second time he'd screwed the Goons out of his offer today. And that's not the way he likes it. I can, of course, stand up and snap but somehow it's not so obvious and in addition Daas on edge. So I decide not to cross him, and I agree.

"Ok."

"Are there any of Illea's food left?" Anton asks.

"Nope," the boss shakes his head negatively.

"Okay, we'll stop at a gas station on the way, get some burgers... Well..." Anton stares intently into my eyes. "Let's go then."

"No problem," I try to mirror the biker, but it doesn't come out very well, and my voice doesn't sound as confident as I would like it to.

"And no bullshit," Daas said, raising his voice to our backs. "I want the boy back, no matter what kind of Face he's got... So I wouldn't regret.."

"Don't worry about that," Phil tells him. "But we're not responsible for the Arch."

"If the boy doesn't start freaking out, we'll all go back," Hotey said as he froze in the doorway and let me go ahead. "We've been back before."

"Your words to the Threefaced," Ten Daas grinned, and with a wave of his hand escorted us out. "Go away, or you'll only bring on the cold."

Apparently, I didn't notice the cold outside because of the nervous tension, or maybe it was because it was only a ten-step walk to the car. The van was roomy enough for me to sit down and stretch my legs. Meck took the wheel, and the rest of the guys sat with me in the cabin.

The tires squealed, and the car with a little slippage abruptly jerked from the spot. Apparently, this seemingly family car was equipped with an engine with at least three hundred horsepower, so quickly the minivan picked up speed.

To my surprise, Meck turned the car around and, instead of pointing it toward the city center, where the Great Temple of Avalon is located, steered it toward the highway going out of town.

I was just about to open my mouth and ask a question about where we were going when I caught the Hun's eyes scrutinizing me. Before, the bikers had looked at me like I was nothing, but now I could see genuine interest in their eyes. Only this interest was peculiar, the way ornithologists look at an unknown bird that crosses their path. I felt a little uncomfortable with these views and in the relative tightness of the car interior. And the fact that the Goons had not said a word from the moment they got into the car began to bother me after five minutes. It was clear that they had chosen this line of behavior on purpose, to crush me morally. I just do not understand why they do it, but it seems to be a well-established technique of working with "strangers" because they are too synchronized to play their roles. To destroy the atmosphere imposed by them, it was necessary somehow to defuse the situation, it is desirable at all to frighten them. And I found nothing better than to ask a very insolent and considered completely unacceptable question.

"Guys, what is the Face of Ten Daas? I've been pondering, but I can't find an answer."

The guys' reactions to my question were different. Hotey almost choked on his gum and coughed; Anton rolled his eyes and leaned back in his seat, pretending to question ThreeFaced about something; even Mek jerked the steering wheel a little, which almost caused the car to jump into the next lane. Only Phil grinned and, slapping his palm on his knee, leaned forward slightly and said:

"So young and so brazen." You'd think he'd be a lot older than me, three, maybe four years at most. "You know it's not polite to ask such questions, don't you?" I nod my head and confirm that yes, I do. "We don't know what kind of Face Daas has," he said, looking at the surprised look on my face. "The question is interesting to many of us, if not all of us, but only Lance knows the answer for sure."

"And maybe Rick," adds Hotey.

"Maybe," Phil nods at him. "But not for sure."

"Then why do you trust him, not knowing his Face?" I went on the offensive, so as not to fall into that oppressive silence that was getting on my nerves again.

"We trust Lance, and he trusts Daas, that's enough for us," Anton joins in the conversation.

"And from indirect observation, Ten is no weaker than a Com, and that says a lot..." Phil says that, and then he stops talking.

"Daas is stronger than Lance," said Meck from the driver's seat.

"Well, I don't think so..." said Hot, answering immediately.

"Okay, that's enough," Anton raises his voice. "You're arguing about it almost every night, let's not do it tonight at least!"

"Okay, okay..." Hot immediately backs away, and Meck just shuts up.

I really want to ask what kind of Face Lance has, but that wouldn't be cheeky, it would be silly. Because I would look like a complete idiot, repeating like a parrot, "What's the Face of this one, what's the Face of that one...?" As it is, I have already got a little piece of information from their involuntary altercation, which I can cling to. In addition, I was on Meck's side in the argument between the two bikers; Daas seems to me a much more dangerous person than the head of the Goons.

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Since my provocative question has achieved the main thing, namely, to break the walls of silence and artificial alienation, I take advantage of this to ask the main question.

"What do I need to know so I don't inadvertently screw up the whole team on this Pilgrimage?"

"Wow, he constructed the question in such a way that it's embarrassing not to answer." Despite looking like a typical wrestling fan, with a slightly crooked nose and broken ears, Phil was starting to annoy me, because he was clearly smarter than he tried to sound. "I'll start with the main point. Don't Ask Too Much... First, the more you ask, the less likely it is to happen. Second, and in the main, the more serious the Asking, the harder the Challenge..."

"If you do not want in the first Pilgrimage to be in the caves of troglodytes or an open field against the attack of centaurs, then do not ask immediately for a beautiful wife, unprecedented good luck and death to envious," supports Phil's Anton.

"And besides, it won't come true anyway," Hotey grinned. "But the chance of being stabbed, like a hedgehog, by centaur arrows... It's not an illusory chance at all." His sneer melts away, giving way to a serious expression. Somehow I think they're talking about centaurs from experience.

"Well... I just need my arm fixed," I shrugged in response to their words.

"If something is serious and your injury is not caused by someone else's Prayers, then going once is not enough to heal."

"Why? If we all ask for one thing, he will be cured."

"But we're not going to do that," Phil's face lights up with a serene smile.

"Yeah, we won't," Anton echoed.

"Because we don't interfere in other people's lives and problems," Meck supports the others from the driver's seat.

"We are guides and nothing more," nods Hot.

The guys seem to be very unanimous on this issue.

"But if you're broken because of other people's prayers, then once is enough," Phil said, noticing my sour expression, trying to smooth his words over.

"That's if one person prayed it to him, but what if a dozen?" Just as my mood began to rise, it was cut off by Meck's phrase.

"No..." said Phil. "I don't think that could happen."

At this point the conversation took a turn for the wrong reasons; the boys began to argue about envy, a sharpened sense of justice when it came to their children, and about the lengths to which one is willing to go to get hurtful things out of someone else. The argument was so intense that the Goons often swore, and if we had not been in the car, it might have come to a fight, so different were their positions on the matter. This went on for quite some time until Meck interrupted everything with a question.

"Guys! There's a diner up ahead, and it's about twenty minutes to go. Do we stop or not?"

After some discussion, the Goons decided not to stop. But most importantly, this pause ended the argument, or I was beginning to really fear that they would start punching each other in the face right here.

"Now seriously," Anton said, leaning toward me. "You're going for the first time, and you don't know much. So listen carefully. There is an opinion that it is better to pray to the Three Faced in Pilgrimage, not to each Face of the Divine individually. In our... great experience, it is better not to do so. Separate your prayers into three parts. Next, the main thing... Never ask the Face of Hades for anything, never ask him for anything at all. You shouldn't do that." I can see from his eyes that he is sincere.

"You should only bring gifts to the face of Hades. For example, you can give him the curses you've been gifted or will be gifted," he winked at me, alluding to my case. - The countenance of Aphrodite, his plea to help others. This is important, she was, after all, the goddess of Love, so if you have requests for your loved ones, it's to her. As for your cure, I would advise you to turn to the Face of Ares. Don't look so surprised, for although the Avalon Arena is a game, it is still a combat. Yes, combat is virtual, game-like, and yet there are battles on the fields of the BAA, and injury prevents you from fighting at your best, and that is precisely his kind of thing." There's a point to these words that's very unfamiliar to me, but it's there. "You don't have to do exactly what I said. And it's up to you not to believe our experience."

"I get it." My gratitude is sincere. "Thank you."

"Well, I hope you really are as smart as Quint thinks you are." Quintus, not Phil, because Anton looked at him when he said that! Strange...'

"Now, about not fooling around and playing the Hero," Hotey said. "When you pass the Arch, you'll get the Face of the Hero. But remember, very well remember... This will not make you a hero!" That's an unexpected turn for me. "Yes, you'll get something from the Face, but you won't become one. So don't try to be a hero amidst the euphoria. If you do, it's easier for us to kick you in the head than to chase you. Gotcha?"

"Yeah." Truth be told, I've never been one for heroics, so that warning is probably unnecessary as it is.

"Great," smiled Hot. "Let's move on... You'll get an Attribute or Attributes, depending on how cool your Face is. If you get an ordinary Phalanagist or Legionnaire plain and simple soldier and war worker who became a Hero, then... Rejoice. Immediately a full set will be at your disposal, both weapons and armor. At the same time, you will get the full skill to use it all at the level of your Face. But...! Remember, you will only be able to wield a sword or other weapon of your Face. That is, you'll lose your sword, pick up another one on the battlefield, look the same, and... And if you haven't practiced swordsmanship or chopping. In your hands, it'll just be a sharp strip of metal that you'll cut yourself with rather than cripple your enemy. It's the same with armor, shield, darts, or anything else... Gotcha?"

"Yes."

"If you're chosen by some pretentious Face of a mighty Hero, or, God forbid, a Legendary Hero..." The guys glanced at each other, their eyes clearly showing a lack of joy at such a prospect. "You can have one Attribute. You might get a single Attribute, like a knife, and they'd have a squad of sebeck (1) against us. You can hardly pierce their skin even with a knife of Hephaestus himself, and that will be trouble."

"Don't exaggerate and frighten the lad," Phil interjects. "The hero who knows how to wield a knife like that will slice him to shreds before they can shut his mouth."

"What if there were three of them each?" Hotey's grin is sad.

"Then it's over..." Phil agrees with him. "If he doesn't bless with Face of Jason, of course, who was an expert at slicing up lizard-like creatures."

"Besides, the stronger the Heroes in the group, the harder the Challenge. Believe me, there is little joy in being on a team with someone who has been blessed with the Face of Legend."

"Especially if it's the first time," Phil said again. "There's zero experience, no Attributes, minimal Fusion, and the Challenge will still be much more difficult for everyone."

"And besides, it's better to get the Face of a simple triarius than a Legend, there are many times less hassle, even in real life."

"Yeah, well, nobody wants to get screwed like Blaise," Meck suggested. "Or "catch" the Face of Sisyphus, for instance... Brr-r-r-r..." He even shudders.

"Okay, we've gone somewhere sideways," Anton says with an upward-pointing finger. "Remember the cardinal rule of the first Arch. Follow the Attribute, don't try to resist. Feel the weapon and trust it, no matter how scary and unfamiliar the feeling is to you."

"Roger that." At this point, I was a bit unfair, because even though his words seemed clear, I didn't really understand what they meant.

"Well, I realize that I might be saying something unnecessary and completely clear to you, but..." Anton leans closer to me. "Listen to us... As they say in the BAA, don't play alone. And do not be afraid, the chance of NOT returning to the team is very, very low on a new moon ... Everything will be fine," and he patted me on the shoulder.

At this point, the Goons evidently considered my briefing to be over. They closed their eyes and leaned back in their chairs, only their lips were moving silently. Well, there was nothing left to go, so I followed their example and relaxed and began to whisper to myself the prayer "For the Granting of Fortitude of the Spirit" that my grandmother had read to me as a child...

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