As Yonatan’s squad and the marshals drew closer together, Ardan became increasingly aware of how much his life had turned upside down. The strange horse walking beside him and the belongings of someone he had only recently conversed with, though not in the most pleasant of ways, served as a stark reminder of his new reality.
The sky overhead, obeying nature’s will as it reclaimed its power and dismissed the storm’s remnant that the Speaker had managed to find in the azure expanses, gradually cleared. No, Ardan still did not possess the power of an Aean’Hane, nor did he know any True Names, and if not for his years of practice with Star Magic, perhaps he wouldn’t have been able to do what he’d done so recently. Certainly not without lengthy preparation, which could’ve taken hours. It was one thing to know how to hear the echo of a storm’s name and summon icy lightning, and quite another to actually do it.
So, he was experiencing a confusing mix of pride in himself, excitement for all the possible new discoveries, sadness at his acceptance that he was leaving his homeland, nostalgia for his mother, brother, and... even the sheriff and Kena, but also...
Ardi glanced at Gleb’s horse, the staff tied to the saddle, and the mage’s belongings.
"Yonatan Kornosskiy," the voice of the squad leader pulled Ardi from the labyrinth of these new thoughts and sensations. "My identification and credentials."
Yonatan unfastened the lock of a travel bag hanging from his saddle and pulled out a passport-like document, along with a leather folder embroidered with the empire’s emblem in scarlet thread.
He handed all of this to the marshal who had ridden up to him. The marshal was mounted on a solid black steed — at least according to Ardan’s judgement of such things after spending almost five years working on a farm — clad in a gray traveling cloak, with two carbines on his saddle and wearing a belt adorned with revolvers around his waist. The man lightly touched the brim of his hat with two fingers, indicating a greeting.
Removing his gloves, he took the documents, nodding to one of his three companions. All four riders wore identical uniforms: gray cloaks, wide-brimmed hats slightly smaller than Cassara’s, and emblems on their chest that were in the shape of crossed swords and revolvers.
"Marshal Tevona Elliny," the young woman, who was surely no more than twenty years old, introduced herself, handing Yonatan four documents and an almost identical folder with their own emblem on it in return.
The paperwork check dragged on for a good ten minutes. From Kelly’s stories, Ardan had learned that forgery of documents was quite common in the Empire, and it seemed the government was planning to do something about it.
"Everything seems to be in order," Yonatan and another marshal, whose name Ardi didn’t know, said almost in unison.
Moreover, Ardan noted that Yonatan had handed over only his identification for inspection, while the marshals had handed over all four sets of their documents.
"And what has the valiant Second Chancery," the marshal drawled with evident mockery, "forgotten in our backwater? I don’t recall seeing you here since the persecutions of the highlanders."
At these words, Ardi’s heart skipped a beat, but he didn’t show it... or he hoped he didn’t, at least.
"What concerns me more, Marshal Andrew Kal’dron," Yonatan straightened in the saddle and looked past the marshals and down the hill. "Is why are there two dozen carriages full of northern settlers in your company instead of the originally stated four?"
Ardan exhaled with relief.
He had been a bit worried about the fact that no one seemed to be paying attention to the gathering of carriages and wagons at the foot of the hill. The latter — small but sturdily built and covered with strong, worn cloth — were drawn by solitary mares, while the former looked like barns lying on their sides that had been placed on wheels. They were basically huge, wooden boxes with holes for windows, draped with bundles of various goods, and they each had a few men sitting on the coach box with carbines at their feet and reins in hand. Each of these was drawn by two to six horses, which were now calmly grazing on the grass.
Ardi had heard about northern settlers before. Each season, they crossed the Alcade Mountains through the Parting Gorge — so named because it was where two rivers originated, with one flowing north and emptying into the bay of the Phregian Sea on the territory of the Armondo Tribes, and the other going south.
And this path was often fraught with many dangers, which was why the Monarchy was laying a railroad through the mountains.
"We were hired as guides," Marshal Kal’dron shrugged nonchalantly, casually twisting the ends of his well-groomed, graying mustache. "It’s not prohibited by law."
"But we can’t be guides for more than two dozen families," grumbled Katerina, who was standing a bit farther from Ardi.
"We’re taking them to the junction in Presny," added the marshal. "I assume you’re headed there as well."
Yonatan’s eyes gleamed, adding weight to the tension hanging over the riders.
"Considering we sent you an escort request letter in advance, your assumption is correct," Yonatan hissed. "Fine, we-"
"Where’s your mage?" Tevona suddenly spoke up.
Despite being the youngest of the marshals, she looked no less... imposing. She had a weathered face, skin sunburned under the far from gentle rays of the prairie sun, her pants were worn and her revolver grips were bleached from use, clearly indicating that she’d drawn them often.
"What do you mean, Miss-"
"Not a Miss," she interrupted Yonatan. "I’m Sergeant Tevona Elliny, from the Marshal Corps of the Foothill Province. You could have read that in my documents, not to mention the fact that I introduced myself initially."
The tension only increased, and out of the corner of his eye, Ardi noticed that some of Yonatan’s subordinates were pushing back their leather cloaks, revealing their revolvers. The marshals did the same, seemingly unconcerned about the numerical disparity.
"Calm down, everyone," Yonatan raised his hands, a peculiar mask consisting of smiling lips and a heavy, frowning gaze stuck on his face. "Our mage, unfortunately, remains forever among the peaks of the Alcade."
The marshals exchanged glances.
"Only a complete idiot-"
"Tevona!" Marshal Kal’dron cut her off with a steely tone, then turned to Yonatan. "May the Eternal Angels receive him," he removed his hat and slightly bowed his head before replacing the hat and scanning their squad, his gaze lingering on Ardi for a moment. "And this big fellow, is he the valuable cargo we are obliged to assist you with?"
"Possibly," Yonatan replied calmly.
Andrew stared at him for a moment, but achieved no effect.
"I see he has a mage’s staff."
"Your eyesight does you credit, Marshal."
Tevona was about to speak up in outrage, but Andrew’s hand gesture stopped her.
"Let’s not beat around the bush, Yonatan," the man shook his head. "You’re escorting someone who is clearly not entirely human — and I have a keen eye for non-humans — as well as an unregistered mage on top of that. And even if you were the head of the Second Chancery, I still wouldn’t allow you to break the laws of our country so blatantly and casually."
For a moment, silence fell over the hill. It was heavy, dense, bringing with it a clear taste of copper on the lips and the smell of burnt gunpowder.
Everyone sat on edge, not taking their eyes off the hands and revolvers of their potential opponents.
"Does it trouble you, Marshal, that we have a mixed-blood with us, or is it the fact that he’s an unregistered mage?" Yonatan finally asked.
Andrew glanced at Cassara, who had remained completely indifferent to the situation this entire time.
"If I were concerned with that first point, I’d have sooner pointed out the vampire, who I can see is not wearing a state-issued muzzle."
"Once again, your eyesight does not fail you," Yonatan smirked, spreading his arms wide and smiling broadly. "What a coincidence, Marshal. It’s remarkable how the ways of the Face of Light are sometimes inscrutable. You see, we indeed have an unregistered mage temporarily fulfilling the role of our group’s mage, which means he is in the service of the Second Chancery. And, therefore, you cannot arrest him."
" This is rubbish!" Tevona shouted. "Why are we even listening to-"
And again, the wave of a hand silenced the fiery young woman.
"Thank you," Yonatan said, continuing. "And not only can you not arrest him, but according to the very law you so zealously guard, the Marshal Corps must provide every possible assistance to the Second Chancery. And if I remember the general law course I took correctly, marshals have the authority to administer oaths. So, all that remains is for the lad here to take his oath to the crown right now, and we will continue our journey together with calm and clear heads."
Andrew and Yonatan stared each other down for a while.
"We don’t have star epaulettes with us," the marshal reminded him.
"Mages of the Second Chancery, by special order, are exempted from wearing their typical insignia during the period of that same special order. I am the authority. I have ordered it."
Andrew hissed a barely audible curse before nodding to Tevona.
"But this is-"
"Do you want a shootout?" The man hissed through clenched teeth so that only the girl could hear him. "With the Cloaks? And a vampire, for the Face of Light’s sake! Are you out of your mind, girl?"
And perhaps ordinary people wouldn’t have heard this, but Cassara and, surprisingly enough, Yonatan, only smiled bloodthirstily. While it was clear why the vampire might do so, Ardi couldn’t figure out what was wrong with the squad leader. He looked like a man, smelled like a man, but clearly possessed some not entirely human abilities.
As for the part about "Cloaks," that was the nickname for the employees of the Second Chancery in the Empire.
"Swear him in and let’s be done with this," Andrew grumbled. "The sooner we get rid of these bastards, the sooner I can drink in some saloon and try to forget the month ahead that we’ll spend in their company."
Sergeant Elliny’s face turned red from barely-contained fury, but she still pulled a small book from her saddlebag. It was unmistakably the sacred scripture of the Face of Light.
She tugged on her reins and, ignoring the glances of everyone around her, rode up to Ardi. Only now did he fully appreciate how small and fragile this girl was. She was just over 160 centimeters tall and no heavier than 45 kilograms, yet she had such a strong resolve in her gaze that one couldn’t help but feel genuine respect for her.
"State your full name," she ordered strictly.
Ardi sighed wearily. Fortunately, it wasn’t just Yonatan who remembered the general law course well.
"As a representative of the native mountain people of the Alcade, I will remind you of my right, according to the article of the constitution-"
"Yes, yes," Tevona said dismissively. "I know the laws, mage. You can proceed according to your people’s traditions. It doesn’t matter to me... State your name."
"Ard Egobar, son of Hector Egobar."
"Alright, Ard Egobar, place your right hand on the book and repeat after me."
Ardi raised an eyebrow slightly.
For a moment, he wrestled with the temptation to say nothing and take the oath on an object that held no sacred meaning for him, but... He knew the oath’s contents. It had little to do with the crown, and a lot more with the country and the people, humans and Firstborn alike, who inhabited it. In any case, it was an oath that any mage had to swear in the presence of witnesses, or else be declared outside the law. Moreover, it held no actual power. Just an old custom from the times of Ectassus and Gales. And so, Ardan intended to act with conscience. Ergar (at the end of the day, it’s also about serving to Firstborn) would not have approved of anything else, and perhaps not even his father would have. After all, Hector had shed blood and given his life for the people of the Empire.
"With all due respect, Sergeant, while I can do this, of course," Ardan began sincerely. He held no ill feelings toward the girl in particular, or the marshals in general. "But your book holds no meaning to me, and the oath will not carry the-"
"Angels and demons!" Tevona exclaimed, trying to shove the book back into her bag.
Her nerves caused her to fumble, nearly dropping the sacred scripture of humanity to the ground. Ardi reacted quickly, catching the book in time and calmly handing it back to the marshal.
She looked at Ardi, squinting at him in surprise.
"Why?" She asked simply.
"Isn’t it said in your religion that it’s an insult to God to soil and damage his sacred scriptures?" Ardan replied evenly. "I just wanted to help."
And somehow, the tension on the hill suddenly lessened.
"I don’t know the customs of the Alcade highlanders," Tevona shook her head. "Do you have something sacred with you or-"
"You stand on our land, Sergeant," Ardan replied calmly. "These foothills are still the territory of my people. Our land is sacred to us."
Perhaps Ardi had been too hasty in saying that the tension had slightly eased, for after those last words, it skyrocketed nearly to the heavens. Only now, instead of being directed from the marshals to the Cloaks and back, it was all focused on Ardi.
"Let’s just get this over with," Yonatan grumbled, "before we all say something... we shouldn’t."
Andrew nodded in agreement.
Tevona frowned again.
"I need from you, mage, some kind of ritual, symbol, or sign that you’re speaking the words before the face of your religion."
"And the oath itself isn’t enough?" Ardan asked, still absolutely sincere, but he had to sate his curiosity. "I thought that-"
"Boy," he nearly fell from his saddle when he heard Cassara speak in the language of the Fae. "Stop being so naive... Marshals don’t have a lot of patience."
Ardan cleared his throat, then skillfully leaned out of his saddle, scooped up a handful of earth, and then pulled out a knife, cutting himself through that handful. He felt a brief flash of pain, and then thick, red drops fell to the ground.
"Is this enough?" He asked calmly.
"If that’s what your traditions demand, then yes," Tevona agreed. "Now, repeat the mage’s oath after me. I, Ard Egobar, as a citizen of the Empire of the New Monarchy, pledge allegiance to the Crown and vow to serve the welfare of the homeland and all its peoples. I swear that the interests of the nation will stand above my own. I swear that I will not disgrace the honor of my regalia. I swear that there will be no lord above me but my heart and my honor."
Ardan spoke the required words, then leaned out of the saddle again and wiped his hand on the grass. The cut on his palm had almost completely healed. The tension once again eased, and this time, it almost disappeared altogether.
"Where did you learn that?" Tevona suddenly asked.
"I worked on a farm for the past few years. There’s not much time for getting off and on a horse."
"On a human farm?" The sergeant was surprised.
"Where else?" Ardi was surprised in turn.
At this question, the girl’s eyebrows seemed to rise to the middle of her forehead.
"How old are you?" Tevona asked, the sudden realization clear in her tone.
"Seventeen."
Both Andrew and the others heard this, causing a new wave of curses.
"For the Face of Light’s sake, Cloak!" The marshal practically howled. "Why didn’t you tell us you were escorting someone who’s nearly a boy! We almost shot each other over this!"
"I spent a month holed up in the mountains," Yonatan shrugged. "I wanted to have a little fun."
In response to this, the other Cloaks just laughed, provoking another wave of curses from the marshals.
And it seemed like everyone had understood something, while only Ardi turned to Tevona in confusion.
"What’s happening?"
"I’ll explain later," the sergeant growled, drilling Yonatan’s back with a dark look.
She didn’t even smell of anger, but of pure hatred. The kind that usually isn’t felt without some personal history. But in the sergeant’s case, the hatred was directed not at Yonatan himself, but at his black leather cloak.
Erda seemed to be holding a fire inside of her, burning alive and suffocating in the smoke of her own flesh, and along with her, Ardan began to suffocate as well.
He started choking and quickly moved away from her, forcing the world to return to its familiar state.
Breathing heavily, he involuntarily grasped the amulet shaped like an oak, as if trying to find strength in it. For the first time, he had used Skusty’s teachings to look at something with a hostile nature, rather than just the surrounding world.
"Did you examine her?" He asked the doctor.
"Yes," Mart nodded. "Although, I don’t have a nurse with me right now, so the women here did the examining, but I stood behind the screen and guided them. They didn’t find anything that could-"
"Behind the screen?" Ardi asked in surprise, turning to Anton. "We need to undress her."
The wagon fell silent, then Anton nodded and began to head for the exit.
"Where are you going?" Ardi stopped him.
"I’ll ask the neighbor’s wife and daughter to-"
"I need to see for myself."
Anton froze and turned to Ardi with a not-very-friendly look in his eyes.
"What are you-"
"She’ll die if I don’t," Ardan said heavily. "And besides, she’s just a child."
And if Anton, burdened by his inner turmoil, didn’t react to that last word, Mart certainly didn’t miss it.
"Fine, but-"
"I need light," Ardan pointed to the fabric that served as their ceiling. "A lot of light."
"So my daughter can be seen by everyone in this damn caravan?" Anton couldn’t hold back. "How will she find a husband after that? Damn southerners... What are you..."
He fell silent. The fire in him died out as quickly as it had ignited.
"Metropolis is a big city..." He whispered to himself. "Maybe the rumors will die down quickly there, and she... she..."
Ardi didn’t know the customs of the various peoples of the Empire well enough to understand what the problem was. In any case, in Evergale, if someone spied on a girl bathing in the lake, that didn’t leave her without prospects for marriage.
"Kid," a familiar voice suddenly sounded from outside the curtain. "This really is a serious matter for them."
"Who is that?" Anton shrank back a bit, and Mart flinched slightly.
Atta’nha had said something about how the speech of a vampire would induce involuntary fear in humans...
"Cassara," Ardi replied as if that explained everything.
He sighed and shook his head. Who would have thought that he would have to resort to the teachings of an Aean’Hane for the second time today?
"Draw the curtains," he requested. "I need darkness."
"But you just said-"
"Please," Ardi interrupted as politely as possible. "Just do as I say. We don’t have much time."
Anton looked at the doctor, who gave a barely-noticeable nod, and finally, the girl’s father closed the curtain, tightly fastening the cords on the drapes.
But despite Anton’s best efforts, slivers of light still penetrated the wagon, slicing through the fabric’s tears, through the fastenings, and through the gaps in the boards. So, while to a normal person’s eyes the wagon had plunged into a thick gloom bordering on darkness, to a Matabar...
Ardi could still see quite well, though his vision was limited to shades of gray and not as clear as in sunlight.
"Your eyes..." Mart whispered, but stopped short, and carefully maneuvered around Ardi to take Anton by the shoulders and turn him away.
The girl’s father was too occupied with his daughter’s condition to notice the mage’s eyes, which now sported slightly elongated, vertical pupils and a brightly glowing amber iris.
That was what Ardan’s eyes looked like in the dark, according to Erti, Anna, and the others.
"Bear with me," he whispered into the girl’s ear and got to work.
When he had tried to undo Anna’s corset and untangle the laces on her dress, his fingers had been clumsy and awkward, but now they moved swiftly and skillfully, not a single tight button or cleverly-tied bit of lace slowing him down.
He felt no desire for this child, so even when her black dress fell aside, followed by her beige undergarments and then the rest of her clothing, Ardan merely noted in passing that the girl had a sturdy build, and that was all.
Carefully, trying not to move her more than was necessary, he rolled her from side to side, running his fingers over her skin, pressing down on areas that seemed too swollen or, conversely, too stretched out. With each movement, Erda began to moan and murmur something unintelligible, forcing Ardi to pause to allow his patient to gather a little strength.
"What’s happening-"
"Don’t turn around," Mart’s voice stopped Anton. "Look straight ahead and trust the mage."
Ardi, starting with her shoulders, neck, and chest, had now moved to her lower back, and finally, along the sacrum, practically between her buttocks, he found the sought-after mark.
It was a small dot, resembling a simple mole, with a barely-noticeable halo around it.
No wonder the women had missed it during their examination... Ardan, if he hadn’t known what and where to look for, might have missed the wound himself.
Draping a blanket over the girl, he leaned against the side of the wagon.
"Cassara," he called out in a quiet whisper.
"Yes, kid?"
"Do you know the local flora?"
The vampire didn’t answer immediately.
"Tell me what you need and... hope I can find it."
"Alright," Ardan exhaled and looked at the child lying before him. She had little time left... "I need a wooden cup, boiling water, two Dawn Shakhash leaves, which someone surely picked, some heather root, three cornflower buds, aconite, and a stalk of oregano."
"I’ll try to gather that," Cassara replied simply.
The minutes they spent waiting were torturous. Mart released Anton, who slumped down on a chest. With rough, trembling hands, he stroked his daughter’s matted hair so gently and tenderly that it was surprising to see how much love and compassion this weathered man’s heart held.
Mart, sitting next to Ardi, just silently stared into the darkness.
Ardan repeated the recipe for the potion in his head, over and over, unsure if he could make it exactly as it needed to be made. During his time in Evergale, he had only helped with health issues a few times, and only when the simplest knowledge of an Aean’Hane had been required.
"So, what’s the diagnosis?" Mart finally couldn’t stand it and broke the silence.
"She was bitten by a Shakhash beetle," Ardi replied, not taking his eyes off the girl’s gradually-darkening lips. She had only a few hours left... "It feeds on the leaves of the poisonous bush that grows on the banks of some rivers. And those same leaves are loved by bears, for whom the Dawn Shakhash poison is harmless, and the leaves are very sweet, so... Sometimes, they gnaw the bush clean, and the beetle tries to protect its territory. But the bear’s skin is thick, and it has fur, so the beetle can’t pierce it, and its sting’s poison remains only on the skin’s surface, though the pain it causes is still terrible. After such an experience, the bear avoids those particular bushes for a while."
"Well, that’s something," Mart muttered, fiddling with a cigar that smelled of an unfamiliar kind of tobacco. "I’ve never heard of such a thing... But why that strange name — Dawn Shakhash?"
"Because the poison works very slowly," Ardan explained. "And if the beetle bites a person, they can live for some time without feeling any pain from the bite. It ranges from a couple of days to a little more than a week, and then they usually die in their sleep. At night. And they are found..."
"At dawn," Mart finished for him.
Ardi nodded mechanically, not realizing that other people couldn’t see him doing so in the darkness.
"Then we should check the others-"
"If there were others, they would have already shown the same symptoms."
"Reasonable," Mart agreed with a nod of respect. "The only thing that’s unclear is why only Erda was affected. Several people approached the bushes before the marshals warned them."
This didn’t surprise Ardan. The Dawn Shakhash emitted a distinctive, sweet, and pleasant scent that was easily recognized by local hunters. This lured in the unfortunate prey, which the beetle would bite, and they would die, becoming food for the soil, plants, and trees.
Such was the way of the hunt.
"Her moon cycle," Ardi explained. "The beetle responded to her cycle."
Mart said something in response, but Cassara’s words drowned it out.
"I’ve gathered everything," her voice made both the doctor and Anton flinch.
Something was placed at the entrance to the wagon, and when Ardi pulled back the curtain, he found a cup, a round pot with boiling water, and a cloth bundle.
Unwrapping the fabric, he checked to make sure all the necessary ingredients were there, and then, with a steadying breath, calmed his jittery nerves and got to work.
Placing a blue leaf, which somewhat resembled a gooseberry leaf, at the bottom of the cup, Ardi took a knife and sliced up some heather root on top of it. Then he took three blue buds and plucked four petals from one, two from the second, and all of them from the third. He squeezed them in his hand, holding it over the steam rising from the cooling water until the pain from the heat became unbearable.
He then uncurled his moist fingers and dropped the softened petals into the cup, immediately adding the whole aconite. The stalk of oregano, broken into small pieces, he laid on top of the rest, covering everything with the second Dawn Shakhash leaf.
Then, turning around, he worked his way over the bales and chests to the girl.
"What... What’s that rustling..." Anton turned his head, much like a blind mole. "Are you still here, mage?"
"Yes," Ardi answered, raising his knife over the girl’s head.
"What... what are you doing?"
"I-"
"He’s reciting a prayer to the Face of Light over your daughter, Anton," Mart suddenly intervened. "Because, of course, he’s not performing any heretical ritual or any Firstborn magic that could defile the girl. You can rest assured on that count, Anton."
The girl’s father nodded and resumed his muttered prayers, which Ardi could now distinguish as the Face of Light’s hymns.
Northerners...
Silently thanking Mart, the wizard deftly cut off a lock of the girl’s hair and returned to the cup. He placed the lock of hair on top of the second Dawn Shakhash leaf, then finally poured in the hot, but no longer boiling water.
If he had done everything correctly, the Shakhash poison should clash with the aconite poison, and while they were preoccupied with each other, the other ingredients would bind them and turn them into something beneficial.
Taking the cup, Ardi returned to the girl and leaned over her head. He blew on the steam so that she could breathe it in, and then, pinching her nose, began to slowly, gradually, pour the cup’s contents into her mouth.
The process took at least fifteen minutes, during which the girl’s father never ceased his prayers, and Mart kept fiddling with his cigar.
Finally, when the cup was empty, Ardi asked for the curtain to be drawn back.
"Everything will be alright, my dear," Anton whispered. "Everything will be just fine... You’ll see, my little orchid."
When the light returned to the wagon, everyone could see that the girl’s face was gradually regaining its color, and that her breathing had become a bit more regular.
"Praise the Face of Light!" Anton exclaimed, collapsing beside his daughter. "Praise be to you and the Eternal Angels who heard my prayers... Praise the Light and..."
Ardi looked at the sobbing father, who was cradling his now steadily-breathing daughter, and at that moment, he felt a little better. And somewhere deep in his consciousness, the image of a head pierced by a bullet was replaced by this — the sight of Anton gently rocking his daughter to sleep.
Not wanting to disturb Anton, Ardan approached Mart.
"She should drink a cup of hot water with salt every three hours. If there’s no salt, you can add a little basil or thyme to the water."
"We’ll find some salt," Mart smiled.
Ardi nodded and, stepping outside, was surprised to find that it was almost night.
The marshal was nowhere to be seen, nor was his horse there, and only Cassara stood nearby.
"Where-"
"Kal’dron convinced Yonatan to stay here for another night," the vampire, still watching the prairie expanse, answered his unasked question. "And he was very much unhappy about it, but we’ll leave that for tomorrow. For now, go to sleep, kid."
"I need to-"
Ardi approached his horse and noticed that both his small tent and sleeping bag had already been untied from the saddle.
"Over there," the vampire pointed.
Ardan hesitated for a moment, then nodded gratefully and trudged off in the indicated direction.
By the Spirit of the Night... He couldn’t have possibly imagined that a single day could last so long, rivaling an entire month in some ways. It felt like more had happened today than in the past year.
And maybe that was why the tired wizard made the simplest and most ridiculous mistake a hunter could make: he didn’t notice the man with that unfamiliar tobacco scent following him.