The Road to Magic (Book 1 of the Way of the Demon Series) (36 page)

‘I’ll manage,’ Oleg replied. No matter what else, he was sure of his own powers.

‘Well, good luck with your exams, then.’ The Duchess was serious. ‘When are you planning to leave?’

‘The sooner the better. Probably today…right now, in fact. The sooner I leave these walls the less chance there is that I will run into my “elder brother.” Something tells me that I may not survive his gratitude for my saving him and returning him to his bride.’ Oleg couldn’t help a bit of sarcasm. ‘By the way, I really hope you won’t try to choose a bride for me, too.’ He suddenly became serious. ‘I give you my word, no good will come of it.’

‘Whatever has got into you? Of course I won’t. Don’t worry, you are not an heir. The choice of your life’s companion is your own personal affair.’

‘Thank you, you have greatly reassured me,’ Oleg said, smiling again, and headed towards the door. He stopped in the doorway. ‘Goodbye, your Grace, please say hello to Kolin for me and assure him I wish him only the best of luck…he’ll need it.’ And with those words he walked out of the door.

‘Goodbye,’ the Duchess said after him. She mumbled to herself. ‘What’s he getting at? Maybe I really should postpone the wedding? Kolin did seem suspiciously serious today when he talked of suicide. I’ll have to think all this over very thoroughly!’

Before leaving the castle Oleg paid a visit to the Duchess’s jeweller. The old man turned out to be very easy to deal with and Oleg obtained a ring with a pretty sizeable ruby for twenty gold coins, even though he did pay a few imperials over the market price. Then, looking around warily and using all his Hunter’s experience in moving undetected, Oleg made his way to the stables which were located in the southern wing of the castle.

Starlet, already saddled and bridled, was waiting for him. She was a shortish but extremely graceful mare with a raven-coloured coat and a white mark on her forehead which was no doubt what gave her her name. Thunder, Oleg’s own stallion, burdened with Oleg’s goods and chattels, was standing nearby. He had, evidently, been allotted the role of beast of burden. Oleg ruffled their manes fondly, then jumped into the saddle and gently touched Starlet’s sides with his heels.

Having ridden out of the castle, he headed towards the ruined Black Tower. Before setting out on his way to the Academy he would be well advised to pick Vereene up and think of a way to bring her right into the heart of the land of Light magicians. For this, he was counting on the Supreme Vampires’ ability to transmit themselves into precious stones. Thinking this idea over, Oleg was admiring the play of the sun’s rays on his ruby ring. It looked as though he would have to feed Vereene on his own magical energy.

Busy with such thoughts, Oleg missed the moment when the ruined above-ground part of the Black Tower appeared over the horizon. Starlet really was above all praise. The journey which had taken over two hours last time was now reduced to forty minutes! And the horse wasn’t even sweating!

Stopping fifty metres from the entrance, Oleg tied his horse to a puny birch tree and, having cast a protection spell over her, plunged inside the castle.

The Vampiress packed quickly. To all appearances, she was used to travelling. Oleg was really concerned she would ask him to drag her coffin along, seeing as according to many legends that was a vampire’s most vital possession. But luckily, it was not necessary. Vereene only grabbed a long black hooded cape of tightly-woven material, a mask without eyeholes, and gloves. As the girl explained briefly, those were vital protective equipment from the rays of the rising or setting sun, which were dangerous for her.

‘My travelling coffin,’ she joked.

When Oleg told her all that had happened in the Bel castle, she wouldn’t believe him at first. He had to show her his documents. Once she’d studied them carefully, Vereene shook her head in disbelief.

‘Well, my head was worth a lot to her... Taken into the family, the title of an Imperial Prince, gold prize winner of the Imperial Horse Race, and a thousand gold pieces to boot... A reason to be proud! I would say this is the very biggest reward a hunter has ever received since the very inception of hunters! Now I understand why you decided to attack me,’ she said, handing back the papers.

‘Not an Imperial Prince but a non-inheriting young duke,’ Oleg corrected her. ‘There’s a considerable difference.’

‘Within the confines of the Empire, yes. However, beyond its borders, in accordance with the Irinian agreement, all individuals belonging to the “senate” families of the Empire are afforded the title and honours of a full prince. A special name was even invented for them: Imperial Prince.’

Not having much clue about the subtleties of Elltyan’s politics, Oleg decided it was best to stop the argument but wondered to himself: While within the Empire I’m just a non-inheriting young duke, albeit from a very important family, beyond its confines I’m a full-fledged prince?

‘It’s crazy, in my opinion. But I’m not against it,’ he came to his final conclusion.

‘As if you’d be against it, Master Imperial Prince!’ Vereene teased gaily, as she finished saddling his stallion. Jumping into the saddle, she called out: ‘Catch me if you can, master!’ She pushed him gently on the shoulder and, laughing, spurred the horse on.

Oleg leapt onto Starlet and began the chase. He quickly caught Vereene, though at first he was quite unable to tag her – she wriggled around, dropped under her galloping horse’s belly, jumped off swiftly and ran a few steps holding on to the saddle and then leapt back on, displaying all kinds of circus tricks which just wouldn’t let her be touched. At last, Oleg managed to grab hold of her by the very end of her long black hair, and gave it a gentle tug.

‘Oooh, you! Well then hold on!’ and Vereene spun her steed round in mock rage.

‘I give in, I give in!’ Oleg put his hands up. ‘Let me catch my breath!’

‘You know,’ the girl said when he’d got his breath back, ‘That’s the first time I’ve done something like that in all the years of my existence. And it was quite enjoyable! Unbelievable! It must be your influence. You are really young, after all...’

‘And what’s so unbelievable about it all? It’s fun! And by the way, you really know how to ride a horse. Will you teach me?’

‘Of course. Stunt riding and fencing are the first things we’ll study. You need to be trained and trained! Otherwise you sit in the saddle like a cow on a fence and you don’t know how to hold a sword in your hand! I could do better with a sword when I was a child.’

‘Aha, aha, so you chased Supreme Vampires round the courtyard with a court sword and sent Shapeshifters flying, did you?!’ Oleg declared.

‘There weren’t any Supreme Vampires in those days,’ Vereene said in all seriousness. ‘They were only made one hundred and fourteen years after my birth.’

‘And you?’ Oleg blurted out without thinking.

‘I was just a simple girl from the Nagall clan back then, Verka the Amazon as my brothers used to tease me.’

‘A simple girl? You can fence, you can perform fantastic horse-riding acrobatics and you understand international relations. That’s a rather odd collection of talents for a simple girl. But how did you become a Supreme Vampire back then if there weren’t any? Or are you trying to tell me that they turned you into a Vampire when you were one hundred and fourteen years old? If so, then congratulations are due. You’re in great shape for your age!’

‘Well, not a completely simple girl, of course. If you are so fond of titles – Countess del Nagall at your service. Although admittedly our countdom and the estates of our neighbours are now the Scorched Lands. And from the whole of our clan, I am the only one left alive – and that under suspended sentence. As for the rest, you almost guessed correctly. By the way, thank you for the compliment. I was one hundred and fourteen when I became a Supreme Vampire. But by then I’d already been feeding solely on liquid foods for eighty-nine years, as I was a simple vampire. And I switched to that regime soon after my twenty-fourth birthday.’

‘I see. So how old are you then?’

‘Well, generally you don’t ask a lady that question. However, if you really want to know...’

Oleg hurried to assure her he was burning with curiosity.

‘I’m...’ and here she made a dramatic pause and then said solemnly: ‘Twenty-four!’

‘Fibber,’ Oleg remarked.

‘No, it’s true. At least, twenty-four in human terms. But in vampire terms – what’s the point in counting?’

Time slipped by unnoticed as they were talking. The walls of Volgrad were already visible in the distance when Oleg remembered the problem facing them.

‘Tell me, is it true that you can incarnate into a precious stone?’

‘Yes.’

‘Could you incarnate into this if necessary?’ Oleg showed her the ring he had bought in the castle.

‘I could,’ Vereene answered once she’d examined the ruby. And then she got alarmed: ‘I hope you’re not about to chase me into that stone? It’s a really unpleasant state to be in.’

‘I might have to,’ Oleg replied. When we enter Valensia I’ll have to hide you somehow. Otherwise you – and me too, by the way – would have problems. They say that light magicians are somehow none too fond of vampires, strangely enough. You can pretend to be a human in Valensia, I’ll feed you with my magical energy, but we somehow have to get through the checks at the border on the way in. So you’ll have to ride inside the stone...’

When Oleg had finished, Vereene burst out laughing.

‘Tell me, where did you get all that from?’ she asked him between fits of laughter. ‘As if you’d dropped from the moon! You can’t go about not knowing the basic legal codes of the country you’re intending to enter. Listen. In Valensia they have a very timid attitude to personal property. And that is precisely what I am now--your personal property, slave girl Vereene, which any person capable of seeing an aura will easily confirm. “De jure” I only count as the property of the Imperial Prince Arioch of Bel, and as such I can remain at the side of the above-mentioned prince, with absolutely no need to hide, wherever it pleases him to go, be it within the confines of the Light Academy or at senate meetings. So don’t you worry. The worst thing which might happen is that the customs officials could ask you to forbid me from drinking human blood within Valensia’s borders. And even that is unlikely. Now you’re such a big cheese that no-one will bother you about such trifles.’

‘Trifles?’ Oleg asked incredulously.

‘In the eyes of the customs officials, yes. But if you get enraged by their importunity, you might file a case of disrespect and that, in the eyes of the customs officials, is far from trifling, as it would lead to colossal problems for them personally. What’s more, I have no intentions of feeding on serfs. I really liked the last rapist. You could say I’ve developed a taste for them!’ And with these words Vereene licked her lips significantly. ‘And robbers are really not so bad, either – young, strong bodies with good blood!’

‘Well, I’m happy for you,’ Oleg smiled.

The sun was already sliding down towards the horizon and Vereene threw on her protective gown as they rode into Volgrad. They had to spend the night in an inn, in one room, due to lack of available lodgings. A lot of people had arrived in town, and, as Oleg was told, they were all bound for Valensia: in honour of the Academy entrance exams a grandiose tournament was being held, an archery competition and other “shows”, as they would be called on Earth.

To Oleg’s amazement, Vereene didn’t go out to feed in the evening but lay down peacefully on the bed. In answer to his amazed smile, she innocently shrugged her shoulders. ‘I don’t feel like it. I’m full. I stuffed myself last night. It was a big gang. So I ate like a python. Nearly burst.’

‘I see.’ Oleg rolled over onto his side and quietly fell asleep.

They crossed the Empire’s border around noon of the next day. As Vereene had predicted, there were no problems. In fact, no sooner had the customs officials seen Oleg’s papers than the customs checks were over and done with. After that, standing to attention, the captain asked but one question: “To the Academy, my Lord?” and having received a confirmative reply, he hurried to open the gates himself. They didn’t pay any attention to Vereene at all, as though Oleg’s off-hand remark: “She’s with me” had made her invisible.

After another five days of swift riding they reached Valensia’s capital city – Antis, where the famous Academy of Light Powers was located. Having arrived at the Academy and registered as a university entrant, Oleg gave a sigh of relief. It was still two days until the exams. He’d made it! Soon, perhaps, he’d be able to think about how to return to his own world, though, strangely, it didn’t seem as important as it did at first. Now, he had a seemingly limitless set of options before him. For a split second he pondered over the fact that he was about to become a student once again, although he wouldn’t be studying philology now, and then gave a broad grin. He liked being a student! All the more so seeing as he wouldn’t be studying romano-germanic languages but light and dark magic. So it certainly wouldn’t be boring. He was sure of that.

Epilogue

 

A tall man climbed onto the platform against the wooden walls of the huge hall. His hair was utterly grey, the hands which firmly grasped his magical staff and his face, too, were covered in wrinkles. Age is associated with weakness and this was a word that could in no way be associated with Milord Rector Elias Alfrani, who for over three hundred and some years had been head of the Academy. It was not even a matter of the sparing, precise movements of the man approaching the podium which gave him the air of not merely a good but an excellent fencer, nor was it in the firm and severe look shining from his eyes gone colourless with time – it was simply that anyone who had the good fortune of talking with this exceptional person instantly felt the gigantic, simply incredible force that surrounded him. Milord Rector was the most potent magician at the Academy, and had been for a long – very long – time.

Coming onto the podium, Milord Elias threw a glance over those present – the entrants, their parents, servants and family members. Then he began his speech.

It was not so different from hundreds of other speeches which he had given as rector, and while his lips were automatically going through the required words; announcing the names of the lucky ones who had been accepted; the faculties they would be studying in, and the names of the teachers who would lead them in their studies, his brain was busy thinking over the report he was planning to give today at the meeting of the Academy’s council.

The Rector was very troubled by the increasing magical activity in the world, especially the growth in the dark sector. Of course, he understood that having destroyed the Dark Citadel they had condemned the world to serve as a receptacle of the dark force, and consequently, the unavoidable strengthening of all remaining dark magicians and the appearance of new ones. After all, it was especially to avoid such a situation that he had made a move to open a Faculty of Dark Magic in the Academy. He had put up with the jokes and mockery, the witticisms about the “darkening of the light” and the murmurings of the Deacon. And all that to weaken, or ideally completely avoid, this situation.

And what had come of it all? In its fifteen years of existence, barely half the number of students had graduated from the Dark Faculty as had graduated from Faculty of Earth. People were simply afraid to study there. And as for the graduates... Not one of them could be compared with even the weakest of the magicians of the Dark Citadel in terms of power. And now the result was staring him in the face.

For the last two years, sensing a tension in the magical currents, Milord Rector had sent out scouts with the orders to monitor unusual and potentially dangerous incidents. Now, it seemed, his hunch was beginning to come true.

Dark magician had appeared in the Baronies, able to turn people into animals. The Rector only had to think about how much energy one had to possess, about how complicated it was to weave such spells, and he developed a nervous tick. Admittedly, it seemed that the spells were not complete, the effects only temporary, but if the magician was willing to waste so much might just to punish some over-impudent lieutenant, then that was frightening. What would he be capable of in battle? Elias had himself examined the memory of the fool of a lieutenant... what was his name? Ah yes, von Buervil... and what he saw had given him quite a scare: the magician, whose face was not visible – the lieutenant had devoted all his attention to the magician’s pretty companion – had turned him into a frog without the slightest effort, without reciting a long incantation but just with one offhand gesture! Such might and concentration were simply frightening! Elias himself could ignite a forest, dry up a medium-sized river or bring down a castle with a similar gesture, but for anything more complicated even he would have to resort to using either a spell or meditative contemplation. And that all took time. But in von Buervil’s case – it was accomplished all at once! And amidst all that, the lieutenant somehow gave off the stench of dark enchantments!

But that wasn’t all.

The nomads of Shem had organized a raid on the Iron Mountains and the border of Trir. The gnomes had deflected their attack but nevertheless the Imperialists had been stung. Now the Emperor was preparing a punitive expedition, planning to drown the steppes in blood. The odd thing was that this was the first time in twenty years that the nomads had taken such nonsense into their heads – the Emperor of Trir’s reaction to such things was unambiguous and easy to predict. And their leader was some Black Prophet!

In Fenrian, that state of the crazy fanatics of Orchis the Murder Magician, which was rotten to the core, elves had appeared. Elves, who had not so much as put their nose outside their enchanted forests for five hundred years! A couple had come, the male even masquerading as a human. They’d sung a couple of songs, bewitched all the courtiers, killed a courtier-murderer and vanished without a trace, leaving the current governor of Fenrian a mocking letter. It was just like them – appear, stir everyone up and then disappear with the help of their Starry Way. Absolutely crazy creatures! You could go to them, ask them what was meant by their actions, Starborn Prince Aloar would be glad to see an old friend. But as for an answer, they’d offer you tea and even invite you to admire their dances under the moonlight – Elias had studied all the ins and outs of Elfish etiquette—but that’s all you’d get. So it would be better to try and figure it out yourself and not waste precious time on a trip to the Golden Forest. However, it was clear that something extraordinary had taken place!

And to cap it all, the residents of the Oner marshes had crossed the border with Irinia! They hadn’t touched anyone, only captured Jollyboy Frakhr’s band and gone back home. I wonder what he’d done to annoy them so much? Judging from the information his agent had brought, this act of the Oner Undead had turned out to be a great service to the Irinian government. But joking aside, it was the first time the Undead had taken people. And what’s more, they hadn’t killed them on the spot but dragged them back to their lair for some unknown reason! He didn’t give a damn about Jollyboy, of course – they’d taken him and thank the gods - but were this to be repeated he would have to send a fair party of warrior magicians to deal with what was happening, and there were hardly enough of them to go round as it was!

In general, he was overwhelmed with concerns. The elderly magician shook his head and focussed his attention on his speech, which was drawing to the final stage.

‘And to conclude. As you know, from time to time we come across some amazing people in our midst, people who have received the gift of not one but several elements. It is customary for such unique individuals to have the right to choose for themselves the Faculty for their main studies, not neglecting of course the development of the other sides of their gifts. In accordance with our rules, although they will study alongside other students, they will be following their own programme specially put together for each one of them. Today I am pleased to present to you three such students.

‘Ariola Gobei. Possesses inclination towards the elements Earth and Fire. She has chosen to study in the Department of Healing of the Earth Faculty. Laressa Ariola, please, come to me.’

At these words a delicate, dark-haired girl of fifteen stood up in the back rows of the hall. Blushing desperately under the gaze of the hundreds of people present, she made her way to the Rector’s podium.

‘Although I can well understand and share your aspiration to heal, I should nevertheless draw your attention to the fact that sometimes a sore which has not been scorched in time can kill thousands of people. You wish to heal, and I have nothing against that, but I would also remind you of your obligation to follow a course on the warrior magic of fire. Knowing your lack of desire to study such things, I would like to warn you that I myself shall examine you in this subject, and you will not leave the walls of our Academy until you can keep it up for at least five minutes!’ At these words of the Rector many of the students glanced at the poor girl, doomed to the fate of an eternal student. She herself also hung her head and wrinkled her nose, to all appearances fully sharing the opinion of the majority. This did not go unnoticed by the Rector. ‘And there is no need to cry, my beauty. Believe me, this is well within your capacity. You simply need to develop it. And we shall help you.

‘Franko Vassini,’ he went on. ‘Elements Air and Water. Element chosen – Water. On his own personal request he will also study weather control in the Faculty of Air. I fully support your choice, young man!’

A slightly plump young man with brown hair and lavish clothing went up to the podium and stood next to Ariola.

‘Arioch Bel. Elements Fire and ...’ here the announcer left a dramatic pause, ‘Dark magic!’

A rustle of surprise ran through the hall.

Pushing his way to the tribune with difficulty, Oleg met the careful and studious eyes of the Rector and his future classmates.

‘Chosen element – Fire. However, this time, after a thorough examination of your capacities, I am obliged to break with our traditions a little. In keeping with your wishes, you will study warrior magic in the Faculty of Fire; however, for your more general studies I will use my authority to direct you to the Dark Faculty. At least for the first year. Remember, you mustn’t bury your talent in the ground! You will also do the coursework for the Magic of Darkness.

‘And that is all. I congratulate our new entrants and wish you may all successfully graduate from our Academy. For all matters regarding accommodation please see the Dean’s Office of your chosen Faculty.’

***

Oleg was standing on the doorstep of the smallish detached house he and Vereene would share. His first goal had been achieved! He had become a student at the Academy of Light Powers. In five years’ time he would be a fully-fledged magician. But even now, before he had started his studies, he could do more than a little. Remembering his first faltering attempts at magic in the world of Earth, he smiled, pulled out last the last of his cigarettes, which had survived by some miracle. Lighting it with a fireball he invoked with a slight effort of will, he inhaled blissfully. Life was wonderful! Then he remembered the conversation he had had in the corridor of the Academy just after he had passed the entrance exams with flying colours, and called out to Vereene who was bustling about the household chores– the Vampiress turned out to be remarkably competent domestically.

‘I’m going down to the pub now, to get to know my classmates. Do you want to come with me?’

‘What the hell for?’ the girl called back. ‘By the way, just for your information, wine has no effect on vampires. And it’s no fun for me to watch your drunk faces on an empty stomach. So you go yourself. It’ll be my turn to drink after sundown!’

‘Well, suit yourself. Then come and join us once you’ve had a bite. We’ll be in “The Drunken Studiouso” Oleg called out, and quickly ran down the steps. He had but one thought in his head: “Seems as though the fun’s just beginning!”

End of Book One

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