Shadow Prowler - By Alexey Pehov Page 0,79

pompous nonsense over with as soon as possible.

“Then enter and address Them,” the second priest told me, in a voice that sounded rather feeble and uncertain.

Probably my appearance wasn’t conducive to long theological discussions.

“I’ll address them straightaway,” I muttered, heading toward the living quarters of the priests of Sagot. And thinking in particular of someone who took gold pieces for idiotic pieces of advice.

The knight-and-ogre fountain was still gurgling merrily, throwing up jets of sparkling water. There were priests bustling around the statues of the gods. The morning cleanup, before the worshipers arrived. One of them was carefully wiping Sagra’s face with a rag, another was laying a bouquet of flowers at the feet of the attractive Silna. They took no notice of me.

I stopped in front of the archway that brought back rather unpleasant memories. After a moment’s hesitation, I took a step forward.

Nothing happened.

No over-clever creature of darkness tried to grab hold of me. And no one threatened to suck the marrow out of my bones.

Strange.

Maybe something had happened? I strolled backward and forward, waiting for someone to do me the favor of grabbing me. Nothing. Right, the Darkness take that Vukhdjaaz! I gave up and took myself off to For’s chambers.

On the way I came across several priests who were extinguishing the torches that had burned all night. The servants of Sagot took no notice of me; they had apparently been informed of my impending visit. I walked up to the familiar door, pushed it open, and barged into my teacher’s dwelling. He had clearly not gone to bed, but sat up at the table all the time I was away. The table, by the way, was empty, with not a single crumb of food, which was another strange thing. For must have been worried about his wayward pupil after all.

“So there you are,” he said with a start when he caught sight of me, but gave no sign of being glad. “Did it go well?”

I dumped the bag containing the papers and books on the table in front of him.

“Oho!” he exclaimed. “I didn’t expect that. Will you tell me what it was like?”

“Later,” I mumbled. “A bit later. Wake me up when it gets dark.”

And with those words I pulled off my dirty clothes, flopped onto the bed, and sank into the welcome embrace of sleep.

13

WHAT IT SAID IN THE PAPERS

I was woken by the rustling of pages being turned, but I didn’t open my eyes in a hurry, deciding to carry on lying there for a while instead.

“That’s enough idling about, it’s evening already,” For said peevishly when he spotted that I wasn’t asleep.

“Is it already dark?” I asked with a yawn.

“It soon will be. Have you got things to do?”

“Unfortunately,” I muttered, sitting up on the bed. For had occupied his favorite armchair and was studying one of the old tomes that I had brought back from the Tower of the Order. The other book and the bundle of manuscripts were lying beside him on a small table.

“I took the liberty of throwing away your clothes. Only beggars could wear them now, and even they would probably be too ashamed. There are some new ones on the chair. What do you think, will dark colors suit you?”

I usually leave rhetorical questions unanswered. In any case, For knows perfectly well that it’s handier to work in dark clothes at night and—let’s be frank about it—far less dangerous. Only a madman would dress up in white to enter the houses of rich men who would probably spot him from a hundred yards away and arrange a warm welcome, followed by a hard poke with something very sharp.

The clothes were a good fit, except that the shirt was a bit tight in the shoulders, but that was only a minor problem. My gaze fell on a table beside the window set with food and my stomach gurgled in craving.

“I see that your nocturnal stroll has not damaged your appetite, so perhaps it’s time we sat down at the table and thanked Sagot for another day of life?” said For, putting the book down and getting up out of his chair.

“When did you start reading old books on magic?” I wasn’t aware that my old friend had developed a new interest.

“I wasn’t really reading it,” For said with a shrug as he walked toward the table. “Merely a cursory valuation of the goods. You could get three or four hundred for both books. I can suggest a

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