Up and down was jumping a huge chariot, roaring like a hungry beast. The view from the window was changing rapidly, so I couldn’t concentrate on anything outside, though the roadscapes were astonishing. Firstly, it was just a high fence and a forest behind; out of sudden it ended, making room for tall, ugly or bizarre buildings. I’ve never seen so much glass and stone even in elders Heavenly Quarters. Another remarkable thing was people. They were everywhere: standing, waiting, walking, running, chilling; smiling faces, sad faces, hidden faces. Some of them were pushing weird trolleys with tiny humans in them; some were walking (Just fancy!) their domesticated wolves on leashes!
I was scared humans would discover my dryad entity, but nobody was interested in my peaky ears; only some really old looking ones were eyeing me from time to time but never said a word. I was sorry for them: they were languishing, wrinkled like old mushrooms. “Poor beings”, I thought, casting my look at a baby in a ridiculously uncomfortable pink frock who was sitting on her mother’s laps. “How can you run or climb a tree in this garment? Like that matters right now! Soon you’ll become ugly and grey like this miserable old women and fade away...”
“So, where are you from?”
I didn’t expect him to talk with me and had no made up story:
“I’m not from this land,” I answered gingerly.
“A foreigner? An exchange student?” He seemed interested.
“...”
“I must have guessed! So how do you like the city?”
“Pretty noisy.”
“Sure! I can't disagree with that. It was not projected for this amount of transport. As a result: inevitable traffic jam and crowds of people,” he smiled at me. Maybe he expected me to sing the praises of his land, but instead I asked:
“So how long have you known Marina?”
“We’ve been friends since early childhood,” he rubbed the back of the head. “We studied together at school and later at university; our parents are friends too.”
“Why don't you date each other? Your union seemed to have been written in the stars?”
He looked embarrassed because of my words, “We are just friends and nothing else.”
“But you said you wanted to be with her.” I was emphatic.
“Like her best friend to protect her. She’s better with me now.”
“If you are not going to sleep with her, so why do you against her relations with Doris?”
“I don’t mind her being with a woman. I was just surprised she didn’t tell me she’s into girls. I’ve already told you: I don’t want her to be with your strange friend.”
The hirsute head was so funny and tender at the same time in his stupid attempts to look brutal; instead he resembled a child with his blushing cheeks and transparent blue eyes:
“You are like a dog on a bale of hay.”
“What do you mean by that?” he looked confused.
“You don’t need this hay, it’s not a tasty marrowbone, but you desperately protect it from those who really need it,” I enjoyed teasing him. “And why did you start talking about Doris’s gender? Is it a problem here?”
“No!” he turned red as a beetroot, “No, it’s not!” passionately retorted the young man. “What about you? Are you having views on Doris?” he thought he could puzzle me with the question.
“We befriended centuries ago, and I know her good enough to understand that your Marina is too weak for her. Doris is a free spirit, untamed; she is a traveler. Being with your friend, means to put chains on Doris neck.
“You know nothing about Marina! She’s awesome.”
“You know nothing about Doris! But every time you talk about my friend, you present her as a scammer!” I hissed.
“I understand why people put on “magical” (he put air quotes) costumes: a sweet escape from reality, to be someone else just for a second,” he was talking about it, but his eyes were wandering dreamily. “But one have to know where to stop,” he said it, looking at me with a strange expression on his fine featured face. “You, for instance, seem to know where to stop. You are not chilling in the moors with your bare ass, like your mermaid friend.”
I was perplexed: the young man didn’t create an impression of epitome of chastity; at the same time, he was irritated by mermaid’s gorgeous body. Ash’s eyes were glistening when I introduced him to the mermaid; I bet he would jump on her if he were not so arrogant.
“Is Doris’s body not attractive enough for you?” I cocked my head, watching straight into his eyes.
“You are much more beautiful,” he said ardently.
His words were confusing and pleasing at the same time. I was saved from having to reply, thankfully.
“I apologize, we’ve just met and I should not... (There was an awkward pause)...that’s our stop!” he sighed with relief. The boy was happy to change the subject, and I was happy to jump out of the iron monster womb.
***
I refused to leave my spear in the forest, thus Sylvester talked me into wrapping its head in a rustling white bag when we were at the pond. I had no idea why there was so much fuss about just a spear, but he was persistent about it, and I, in turn, wanted to figure everything out fast and agreed. And now, in the street I was the only one holding a big stick with a bag on its top.
I was told humans were ruthless; they used some different tools and unique fire machines to kill creatures and each other as a rule, but none of them had any weapon (not even a dagger!) and they behaved normally even by their standards. “Maybe they are hiding them somewhere?” I murmured under my nose, trying to sniff some extra smells, but it was impossible: I was surrounded by millions of new smells and sounds all around. I had to hold myself not to wiggle my ears, but the temptation was great. Noises and sounds were coming from everywhere; they distracted and deafened me equally. The absence of helpful forest spirits made me feel lost. I had as low aura resources as never before, as if some evil witch stuffed my nose and ears with moss, making me humanlike. Surprisingly, the only “guiding light” that helped me not to disorientate for good was Sylvester’s familiar smell.
My plan was to convince Doris to leave the human girl alone with other humans and jump into the nearest tree in case of danger, but the more we were strolling along busy streets, the less suitable trees I saw: some stunted rowan trees and low shrubs were not my way back home.
Some time ago Doris gave me her address; according to her, the place she was working and leaving with the siblings was in the same building. Of course, I never visited her outside and memorized it just on the safe side. Who could have thought it would be useful to me!
When we made our way to her place, I was thinking about my companion. He was too nice and delicate in his words after the remark about my appearance. I imagined human males as cunning and cruel fellows, but he didn’t differ much from any dryad men I knew. Even better than Ash, and we knew each other much longer... I shook my head and bit my tongue: “They simply deceive creatures, and poor Willow was not an exception. What did he tell her, I wonder, that she was beautiful or the only one?” I thought with hate for all humanity.
“We are here!”
“I would never find it myself,” I admitted unwillingly. I could find any place and herb in the deepest and darkest enchanted forest, but there I was useless.
“Then you came to the right place!” he laughed. “I’m a professional guide!”
But I didn’t return the smile, bitterly brooding about my sister.
The door he showed me was made of transparent glass. Humans were getting in and out while the bell on the door was tinkling vigorously. No doubt, the place belonged to witches. I noticed numerous amulets for or against something. Thankfully, none of them was against dryads. And why would they do this?
Sylvester, obviously, saw no runes and magic signs, but I felt he got tensed, but not because of the tremendous pressure of tricky aura coming from hidden to human eyes amulets. He was keeping watch over a man in a shapeless jacket over his green apron. A stranger was standing with a tiny white smoking pipe in his mouth. The disgusting smell from his mouth, the aroma of hot beverages, and the cacophony of sounds around made me sick. The man in a jacket noticed us and smiled unnaturally showing his white teeth:
“Well hello Sylvester!”
“Hi, Denis,” my guide answered unwillingly.
“Syl, aren’t you happy to meet your old friend?” the stranger chuckled. “And who’s your date this time?” he flicked ashes on grey flat stone that covered humans’ roads almost everywhere. “Craves for elves and role playing, buddy? Don’t be shy I know you like this creature stuff.”
“Be careful, Den. I warn you,” Sylvester almost spited it.
I was reluctant to get involved in their cockfight and wanted just to stay away from their duel (or how they solve their barbarian arguments). Though, truth to tell, I found something unpleasant about Sylvester’s rival. And the point was not in his manner of speaking or an unusually bony face one might find attractive, but his restless oily eyes that were darting and catching you, like a portraits in Heavenly Quarters, no matter wherever you go they are eying you. One more thing that scared me was his aura; I didn’t feel it at all: even the lowest undeads possessed it. I stepped forward in order to protect my only guide.
“Don’t waste your energy, this jerk is not worth it! Let’s leave him alone wallowing in his own dirt,” he said, gently touching my shoulder.
When we entered the building, I heard Denis giggling disgustingly behind our backs.
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