years, I no longer paid any attention to these minor hindrances.
Lying at my feet was an impressive lump of beefsteak. I’d barely got to the butcher’s shop in time, just as he was shutting up his shop for the night. I’d wrapped the meat in a piece of elfin drokr.
Boommmm! A single chime of the cathedral’s magic bell rang out in the night.
That boom could be heard in every corner of Avendoom, announcing the arrival of midnight.
It was time.
I picked the piece of meat up off the ground, broke cover, and set off at a quick run toward the magic wall. But before I had covered even half the distance, I heard the clatter of feet from behind a crooked little old house with a broken-down porch and a sagging roof. I swore and dashed back into the safe gloom of the abandoned stables.
A lone Doralissian appeared at the beginning of the alley. In his hand he was clutching a club. As it happened, I recognized this particular goat. Doralissians’ faces, of course, are all alike, and it’s hard for the human eye to tell them apart, but a specimen with only one horn on his head, and a crooked one at that, is not something you come across very often, and that makes him very hard to forget. This bastard had been involved in the memorable run that time when I called Vukhdjaaz down to torment me.
The Doralissian stopped no more than a yard away from me and snorted loudly. My patience finally gave out and I decided to help the stinking beast’s mental processes move a bit faster.
“Be-e-e,” One-Horn bleated in fright when I set the knife to his throat.
“Drop the club, little billy goat,” I whispered politely from behind his back.
Wonder of wonders! Without reacting at all to the words “billy goat,” the Doralissian opened his fingers. The club clattered on the surface of the road.
“Good boy!” I tried to breathe through my mouth.
Of course, One-Horn was not Vukhdjaaz, but the smell of musk was still not very pleasant.
“Do you know who I am?”
He was about to bleat something, but wisely remained silent. I had the knife pressed too tightly against his neck. Those beasts are as strong as trolls with a belly full of magic mushrooms; give One-Horn a chance and he’d be perfectly capable of snapping me in two with his bare hands. But I didn’t want to give him that chance.
“You’ll be able to speak now. But I advise you not to do anything stupid, otherwise I’ll start getting nervous, and blood will flow. Do we understand each other, my friend?”
The Doralissian gave a sound like a hiccup, which I decided, by way of exception, to interpret as agreement to behave.
“All right, we’ll try the question again. Do you know who I am?”
“No-o-o.”
“I’m Harold.”
One-Horn tensed up, but I immediately pressed my knife harder against his neck.
“Whoa there! No stupid tricks.”
“You-ou’ve got our Horse! Give it ba-a-ack!” the goat bleated, after which I decided to give him just one more chance.
“Who said that I have the Horse?” I asked quickly.
“A ma-a-a-an.”
“Naturally, not a dragon. Who exactly?”
“A ma-a-a-an. Very whi-i-i-ite.”
“White?” I asked.
“Er-er-er-er . . .” The Doralissian clicked his fingers, trying to find the word. “Pa-a-a-ale.”
I wonder why I’m not surprised? All roads lead to my friend Paleface—wounded, scorched, but still clinging to life. And, consequently, to the guild of thieves of Avendoom, and Markun in particular. They must have lifted the Stone in order to pin the job on me. Not what I’d call an elegant move, but effective.
And then my humble personage conceived a brilliantly insane idea.
“I’ll give you back the Horse. In a little while.”
“When?”
“In two nights’ time.”
“Tomo-o-o-rrow night?”
The beast is just too stupid after all. Tell me, if you can, how I can conduct serious diplomatic negotiations with it? It will get everything confused, the halfwit. I rolled my eyes up, imploring Sagot to grant me patience, and said, slowly and deliberately, “This night. Then another one, and then the night when you’ll get your relic back. On Wednesday. Do you know what Wednesday is?”
“Yes.”
“There, see how simple it all is!” I said delightedly, proud of my talent for explaining everything in a way that even those who have absolutely no brain at all can understand. “Do you happen to know where the Knife and Ax is?”
“Yes.”
“Great! You make my heart rejoice, my lad. Right then, in two nights’ time. Precisely at midnight. You and your friends come to the inn. You’ll