The Mist and the Lightning. Part 19

“It doesn’t concern me, so said Nik,” and, turning away, he headed in the direction from which he came.

Kors waved his hand to Parky.

“As you were!”

Parky froze, poured with rain, then, it seemed, he understood the order and shouted to his soldiers:

“Stop it! Disassemble it back!”

And Kors hurried after Arel. “So, Nik sent the prince for me. Prince Arel running errands, like Valentine, it’s funny. Nik didn’t mentally indicate to me where to go, he preferred to send Arel after me. Why? However, what’s the difference.”

Kors obediently walked behind, thinking that Arel was no longer human. “Is this awaiting me too? The demon said: ‘I will develop and teach you.’ Develop and teach me to turn into this? In a creature without feelings and emotions, indifferent to all living things?”

They approached the already pitched tent. Arel let Kors go ahead and followed him himself. Kors heard the prince mentally briefly report: “I brought him.”

Nik was sitting at the table. He took off his cloak, but his face was still masked. Kors saw that Nik’s hair was tangled and uncombed, he didn’t do it without his father, and it was killing Kors, but he couldn’t tell him anymore.

“Take off your cloak,” Nik said, obviously addressing Kors, “water flows from you in a stream.”

Kors immediately took off his cloak and tried to carefully hang it at the entrance so as not to wet everything around.

“On your knees,” Nik ordered.

“Gods, what was I hoping for?!” flashed through Kors’ head. He silently knelt down. He ALREADY wanted to call Zaf.

Nik came over and handed Kors a towel.

“Wipe your face, it’s wet from the rain.”

Kors glanced at him quickly, trying to determine the mood, but what was the point? The mask reliably hid facial expressions, and black glass hid the expression of the eyes. Kors looked down, took the offered towel and dried himself with it.

“Raise your head,” Nik ordered again, “raise, throw back your face and close your eyes.”

Kors obeyed, suddenly feeling something sticky touch his eyes, pressed against his eyelids and skin. It was plaster!

“Aaah!”

“Don’t yell! It’s just plaster.”

“But why?” Kors shouted, clutching at his plastered eyes.

"I’m going to take off my mask,” Nik explained calmly, “you won’t see my human face again.”

“What?!”

“Now remember my black scaly face. Both me and Arel are no longer people for you.”

“A snake and a bat?” Kors chuckled, but his grin was unconvincing. Inside, he was frightened and disoriented by being blinded.

“Not a snake and not a bat, but okay, so be it,” Nik agreed, “you are approximately right.”

“But I’m the same as you!” Kors exclaimed desperately. “You said I had horns.”

“Yes.”

“So, it turns out, I’m a goat?!”

“A goat, a snake, and a bat,” Nik summed up, and Kors heard him and Arel laugh softly, “take off your wet clothes,” Nik ordered, and his voice became serious again, “it needs to be hung out to dry.”

“How can I hang my clothes to dry if I can’t see anything!” Kors was outraged.

“Ver will take care of your clothes.”

“Well, of course! He doesn’t understand anything! He will hang it too close to the fire. He will ruin expensive leather. My clothes require special care!”

Kors received a blow to the head, unexpected and so strong that he flew against the wall and fell on his side. He didn’t even understand who hit him, Nik or Arel, but it was very painful. There was ringing in his ears, and he just by some miracle didn’t lose consciousness.

“Please, don’t do it!” He shouted humiliated. Kors was afraid of them and knew that they felt his fear. “I’m worse than Adrian, I’m just as much of a coward!”

“Take off your wet clothes, Ver will take care of them,” Nick repeated without much intonation.

Kors wanted to think that Prince Arel had hit him after all, but he couldn’t know for sure, and their thoughts were hidden from him. He began to undress, afraid of getting another blow. Maybe you should have taken your clothes off faster?

Having completely undressed, he remained on his knees. They didn’t hurry him, didn’t hit him, and didn’t tell him anything. Kors heard Verniy approach him. He recognized him by his breath, by the way Ver sniffed like a dog, and now by the disgusting smell of a wet dog. Kors was cold, his skin was covered with goosebumps, he was shivering slightly, the air in the tent had not yet warmed up at all. “Gods, if only they didn’t leave me to sleep like this at the entrance, or at least give me some kind of skin, or rather a blanket.” He felt a chain being fastened to his golden collar. Nik did it, Kors was not mistaken, because Nik told him:

“Get on all fours and crawl after me,” and he pulled on the chain.

Kors slowly moved forward, afraid to hit the trestle bed or the table. Now he understood Nik very well with his poor eyesight and involuntarily thought: “Gods, how did he endure all this throughout his life?”

Stretching out his hand a little, Kors helplessly explored the space in front of him and stumbled upon a wooden leg.