Wolves are grinning in the shadows

"We'll go to the temple and that's it," Alice said carelessly, pouring the remains of the herbal decoction into the copper sink. The fresh mint smell burned her nostrils a little, which made the reflection in the mirror with the chipped edge wince. However, a pleased grin was reflected on the girl's lips — she liked to do everything in spite of him. Dissatisfied snorting, spreading vibration throughout the body, involuntarily lit a victorious bonfire somewhere under the heart. Alice proudly straightened her back, squared her shoulders, and looked down at her own reflection, as if she could see his features in the dirty glass. Because of this, he boiled even more. "No," Friend's voice echoed in her head, as if from the walls of a cave. Alice only rolled her eyes in response and raised her hands, intending to stubbornly fold them on her chest, but her left hand, as she expected, refused to obey. So, the Friend decided to go at least a little to the physical level in their stupid dispute, in which Alice was not going to give up. She had the advantage. After all, the possibilities of Friend were very limited — a voice in her head, and a left hand that always hit the target clearly. "I don't care what you want or don't want. Today will be a celebration for the followers of the True Gods," she raised her right hand above her, looking at the string of scars on her pale skin. Signs that, according to the teachers, should remind Alice how insignificant and obnoxious she was. In fact, the thin strips whispered to her about how impossible it was to live according to laws invented by other people. She impressively lowered her hand and grabbed a double-sided raincoat from a wicker basket. "I want to see," she had no faith in ephemeral gods and their guardians under her ribs, and as a child, she often slept sweetly at services, covered with a folder of sheet music. Neither then nor now did Alice understand a single religious fanatic who inhabited their forgotten guardian city. They smashed their foreheads at the entrance to the temples, sang of their deeds, but for some reason the sun shone less and less in Butterright . "Are you driving me crazy on purpose?" A pleasant bliss after someone else's yawn spread through the body when Alice left the bathroom that she even yawned herself. Alice shook her head to throw off the remnants of sleep, and turned the cloak to the burgundy side – Lila's favorite color. With her left hand, Friend helped her to throw the cloak over her shoulders. "No," just a few simple finger manipulations and she managed to tie a tight tail. "There really will be something to see. It's been a long time since I've seen Lila in a handkerchief and a golden sundress." Alice listed the reasons why it was so necessary for them to be in the temple today, simultaneously turning over pillows in search of a mask. How ridiculous that she was able to steal absolutely any thing, but she was constantly losing something! The Dry War with the Northerners ended five years ago, and electricity — a recent invention — was supplied again only to establishments and houses whose owners could afford it. Because of this, Alice had to mess around the apartment, stumbling and getting confused in all sorts of junk, until she stepped on a black bag with her favorite mask. "And I didn't pick the pockets of stupid onlookers." Belatedly responded Friend. "We had a lot of fun then," Alice chuckled, stuffing the bag into her bosom. It was funny only at first, when Friend and Alice discovered the criminal world for themselves and realized that they masterfully know how to take away someone else's. Now there was only a cold-blooded excitement in the veins. — Then we weren't who we are now. — A vulture sounds silly, but not as pretentious as a hawk.

***

"There is some kind of power in this," said Friend to the chants of the parishioners, cutting with the ringing of broken glass. He often snidely remarked that every time he felt like chewed shards were stuffed into his ears. Alice nodded in agreement, standing in the temple, shrouded in a strange dope of candles, and some kind of incense. All these lotions for rituals only made Alice's head ache more, which was already buzzing with a disturbed hive because of the stuffiness in the monastery of the keepers. If it wasn't for Laila, then Alice, to the delight of her Friend, would have avoided this place further. They were lucky that they were late for the ceremony, and came just at the moment when the parishioners were finishing singing the deeds of the guardian Haley, and the preacher's assistants were handing out white lilies. Alice also accepted the hated flower in order not to stand out from the crowd, but she did not lean against the petals, on which the drops of water consecrated on the relics of Seren still glistened, with her forehead and list in a whisper the most terrible sins over the past year. She and Fiend have accumulated three carriages and a small cart, and this is only in the last week. When the assistants moved away, Alice, with a contemptuous snort, crumpled the bud and threw it on the floor. A woman nearby quietly said that she was too angry with her husband for having an affair with a young girl. However, she forgave him, did not blacken her heart and thoughts with black rage. Every time such actions caused Alice to have an internal fit of hysterical laughter. She could hardly believe that the people who inhabited their country more than half a century ago elevated someone to the rank of guardian, so that they could then run around like idiots with stinking sticks, flowers and roots, begging the gods and their guardians to turn their gaze on them. No, they acted. "But you can't even laugh. Immediately the article will be soldered," Alice did not immediately understand who exactly this fleeting thought belonged to: her or her eternal companion. "And hello, Border", the sour voice of Friend dispelled all doubts. "Don't do that anymore," Alice, barely opening her lips, threatened him. Sometimes he left her absolutely no personal space. She would like to hang an article on him for violating private borders and at least have a little rest. But, alas, they are inextricably linked. If he goes to the Border, she will go too. As a child, such an intervention sometimes seemed funny. Basically, the constant presence of Friend gave her a sense of security and calm, as if she had a strong twin brother who was ready to lend his shoulder, give valuable advice in a difficult moment. Then she and Friend were completely stupid. There was no "I" and "MINE". There was only "US" and "ANOTHER EVIL WORLD". Of course, a lot of grains of sand have seeped through fingers since then. It began to seem to Alice more and more often that Friend from mutually beneficial cooperation almost every time switched to pulling the blanket to his side, pointing out his superiority. Alice straightened the rumpled chiffon skirt that she had to put on in order to be allowed to attend the ceremony. Under it, Alice was wearing comfortable tight trousers that did not get in the way under her feet, unlike any dresses. And then one of the sundresses flashed with a different golden light. Oh, Lila loved to stand out. Her two ponderous braids were tucked under a silver handkerchief. Alice sometimes wondered why the boss decorated the handkerchief with ordinary rhinestones and not diamonds. After all, she loved the luxurious life so much. But the answer came to mind the same: too much the queen of the criminal slums, Alice would not turn the tongue to call it the world, was practical in all respects. No matter how you look at it, she doesn't look like a parishioner, someone's wife, a housewife. Laila's curvy form was covered with a golden sundress. The gold is a tribute to the most revered of the keepers, Hayley. Historians have been arguing about her last name until now, the biography of the warrior, revolutionary turned out to be too confusing. Alice didn't care about such questions. Knowing what name the dead girl, who had nothing to do with her and her Friend, had, will not bring them real and tangible benefits. You can't buy something for dinner with knowledge, but ringing coins is another matter. When a person has gold in his pocket, there are no barriers in front of him — the truth that life in the lower part of the city instilled in Alice. Alice's gaze returned to the boss again. There was something about Lila that she might have wanted, too. However, she was still puzzling over this puzzle—over herself. The most difficult puzzle that the keepers throw in the way of people. "And open your hearts, drink from the cup of moonlight, fix all your pure thoughts ..." The words of the preacher lit a passionate light in Laila's eyes. Alice would like her to believe in something so fiercely. For example, in herself. "Seren the Magnanimous, ruler of the Mekrolve lands, deliverer from the raven yoke, will definitely hear you. And the darkness will recede." And then Alice realized that Lila seemed to feel the heavy gaze of her ward, who she thought she was, and turned around sharply. Yes, Alice definitely liked the misunderstanding in the eyes of the boss. "She doesn't even realize the danger she's in right now." Alice bit the tip of her tongue to the familiar metallic taste. There was no way she wanted to kill Lila, no matter what was going on between them. Certainly not when the multicolored light, thanks to the stained glass on the dome, fell on her swarthy face. Every feature of her sparkled with genuine sincerity and openness. Of course, Alice and Friend could break all the threads of a cruel and sophisticated puppeteer. But what is the price of a life taken? Alice looked up at the glass dome. Skilled craftsmen turned ordinary glass into a work of art sometime in the seventeenth century of the new chronology. Five of the strongest women of the eras of Battles and Conquests have found their place here, literally in the sky. All of them were in armor, except for the third. Seren was dressed in some kind of sailor suit. Alice has never understood the sea, especially in pirate matters. And what can we say about their outfits… She only knew that Seren had managed to assemble a grand fleet and advance against Blackrow. Her warriors were bad on land, but they had no equal on the water. Although the proud lady of the seas herself found her end on earth. None of these girls managed to wait for the crown to fall on their heads. All died during the battles, and then someone took their place on the throne. It is too evil and unfair a joke of an intricate fate, but it is difficult to find justice in its purest form in the world. The girls pulled the Butterright on their shoulders out of all the troubles, and for some reason only men ruled. Although there were also quite a few rebels and warriors among them. The same Butter was the first to appear in these lands and was able to organize people, form guards and restore order in wild places. "Many people died under the chariot of his justice." Alice said nothing. Why did he think she needed history lessons? She was only interested in how she and Friend could get out of the rotting Butterright. From the king who sold the country piece by piece. From people close to him who do not disdain stealing from the tombs of the great people who rebuilt their country. They need to escape from this sewer, and their pockets should be dragged along the path behind them. When the sermon was over, Alice hurried away. She knew that Laila would try to find her and question her, that such a little guy was staring at her all the time. And the voice could give them away with Friend. The voice was the only thing they couldn't hide. "Will we look into the Hounds' Den?" Friend already knew the answer. They needed money, and they took a new order every time they finished with the previous one. "I thought you were tired after yesterday." "I'm more tired of that fat preacher than I was of yesterday's chase." Alice couldn't help but grin sharply. A new game has begun.

***

The hangout of the Hounds lurked in the most seedy corner of the Butterright, or rather, its presence drove up the darkness and forced people to bypass this street side. Alice prudently put on a mask with a vulture's beak and threw a cloak with the black side over her shoulders, pushing her skirt into her bosom. They could be followed when approaching the den of inveterate bandits. She and Friend were not the last fools and understood that certain people would have paid a decent bag of money for revealing the identity of a small but clever bandit. At least, her Friend strongly convinced her of this, but she did not really believe in such nonsense. If some moneybags wanted to see a Vulture on a silver—edged plate, they would not have taken their heads off for a long time. Besides, few, according to her suspicions, understood that the Vulture was a girl. Nature did not endow Alice with a chic feminine figure. She looked more like a boy. Her breasts didn't stand out much, but just in case, she still used a tie to maintain the myth of a boy from an orphanage who earns by taking the most savory orders from more seasoned colleagues in the craft (if the bruising and theft can be called such). The wet pebbles stuck unpleasantly to the soles of his polished long boots. Alice gritted her teeth, imagining how she would pick out the pebbles from the notches on the sole again. "The ring," Friend reminded her. "Or has the boy lost Lila's special favor?" She pulled the ring over her leather glove. The ring with the black stone, which was cut by a crooked gray line — which made it look a little like a cat's eye — was tight. But she wasn't going to take off her gloves — at least some kind of barrier between Alice and her Friend and these troglodytes from Lila's gang. Once they allowed her to live, and now the woman is their debtor to the grave. Dilapidated doors swung open with unprecedented force, Friend always beat clearly. The door hit the brick wall so hard that it almost flew off its hinges. "Vulture, you will soon be forced to change all the doors," Madi, a pleasant blonde behind the counter at the entrance, folded her hands with neat nails in the lock and leaned on her table, in an attempt to get a little closer to the famous Vulture. Alice silently tilted her head, staring with empty and dark eye sockets at the girl. "You're still silent," Madi sighed in disappointment. "Go, there's no point in recording you. Take the best," the blonde nodded towards the board, littered with a lot of papers, some of which were crumpled or even yellowed with age. Alice bowed as nobly as she could. The skirts of her seemingly silky raincoat fluttered, and Madi watched her retreating silhouette with a mesmerized gaze. She always did. Alice was told about this by an old bartender. "Don't drive the girl crazy," the Friend sang. "Girls' hearts are so fragile." Alice clenched her fists until the pain in her finger, which was chained in the steel prison of the ring. Sometimes the antics of the "neighbor" in her mind exasperated her, but she was used to letting go of such situations. It was only necessary to take a deep breath and count to three, five or ten ... calm eventually came. Their greedy gaze darted around the board with orders, skipping those that had already been hanging here for six months, or even a year. No one wanted to arrange surveillance of the wife of some farmer for a penny, or catch the young husband of a wealthy old woman for treason. Digging into someone else's dirty laundry (especially underwear) is a humiliating occupation. No one, even for a lot of money, will undertake such a thing. Certainly not a Vulture. "It suits us," Friend announced. "I don't know who this weirdo is going to rob, but the job is clearly worth it." Alice herself had been staring at one very brief but tempting order for several minutes. The customer was laconic: steal a folder of documents from a private house, and the amount will be equal to the one requested by the performer of the action. Everyone should have such clarity of mind and understanding of what you really need. She and Friend could not stand long and fiery speeches. Why say ten words if everything can be described in two? One of the reasons they didn't like preaching in temples. If this person is not a ragamuffin who decided to play with big uncles, then she and Friend can hit a big jackpot. And there was no need to kill anyone — just a fairy tale. No sooner had they torn off the paper than a huge shadow covered them. Alice immediately guessed who it was. "Polka Dots," her Friend suggested. Yes, Polka Dots was the only one who still bullied them in the Hounds' Den. Was it envy of the Vulture's position? Or his stupidity? Alice thought it was both. However, one day this guy fulfilled one of the hardest orders — he disrupted the supply of green peas from the eastern lands, helped the Mekrolve businessman to occupy this niche — which earned him his funny nickname. "Vulture, you take your time," the bully blocked their escape route, blocking the passage to the exit with his fat body, from behind which Madi was looking out anxiously. "You've already pretty much got everyone. You take the fattest pieces, and you leave only crumbs to the guys," It seemed that no one took this order, waiting for the Vulture to take it up and Polka Dots will be able to arrange a skirmish with them again! "What, did you swallow your tongue?" The bald top of his head flashed in the light as the man leaned toward them. He reeked of fumes, from which Alice managed to conclude that it would be easier to fill up the big guy. "Or did your mom's boyfriend cut it off for you before sending you to an orphan house?" Friend hit the first one with his left hand. The blow was accurate. He managed to break his nose with a potato at one time and leave a deep scratch with a ring. Friend did not allow anyone to insult them. Polka Dots grabbed his nose with a groan, barely standing on his feet. Blood trickled down his palms and forearms. Alice shook her bruised hand, shaking off the scarlet drops. Even though Friend had control over this part of the body, it was Alice who felt the pain. "Let me be the host today." Alice realized that her Friend wasn't asking at all. And she decided to give in to him today without unnecessary bickering. She didn't expect a fight in the morning. Polka Dots with an inhuman roar rushed at them again. Alice managed to dodge the bully's heavy fist, after which she deftly jumped onto the table, throwing off her cloak. Friend praised her caution, it was not enough to get tangled in a piece of cloth and fall into the legs of a Polka Dots. The image of a Vulture would not have survived such humiliation. The man's eyes sparkled like two minted coins on a bloody piggy face. He looked up at them while they towered on a round wooden table. Alice, not at a loss, broke her promise and kicked Polka Dots in the face, passing a dirty sole over an unshaven cheek. But the bully did not fall, and grabbed Alice by the other leg, throwing her to the floor, which resembled one continuous dirty puddle. "Sucker," Polka Dots hatefully spat blood near the head. "He's a shifty dog, but he's too frail. And why did Lila love you so much? Failed mommy syndrome?" The man kicked Alice in the stomach when she tried to get to her feet. And then again. Again. And more. Alice trembled with anger and helplessness. It was necessary to let Friend take the situation completely into his own hands. "Damn him," Friend swore. "Just try to squeak and give us away." Alice gritted her teeth, stifling a groan after another blow. It seemed to her that something had burst inside her stomach, and she desperately crawled to the side, backwards, until she rested against a chair. Alice got up as fast as she could, clinging to the damned chair — the only support. And then, when the Polka Dots came dangerously close to them, she brought it down on the bandit's head with all her remaining strength. This time, the bully staggered and could not stay on his feet, falling back into the mud. Friend took a glass with some cheap swill from the next table with his left hand, and Alice led them to Polka Dots and sat on his chest. "First we decontaminate," Friend grumbled, and poured alcohol on the man's face, and then swung to break the glass on his head. "Calm down," a man's voice stopped him. "I put the order on your account." "Lucky you," Friend let the glass out of his hands and it broke near the ear of the Polka Dots. "The bartender won't stick up for him next time." Alice nodded. The bartender was the keeper of the Hounds' Den, and his word was decisive in any conflict. Only the new bartender Alice saw for the first time when she walked stiffly to the bar. "Can I pour you something?" The man's voice was hoarse, smoky. His short hair was so colorless that it seemed he was completely bald, and his eyes resembled two sharp daggers. "If anything you'll need, I'm Dmitry," he handed Alice a napkin, apparently in order to wipe the blood from the gloves. But she just burst out laughing at such generosity and headed for the exit, where she took the cloak from the tearful Madi.