The Labyrinth of Inter-Time. Juriy Tashkinov

there in another way.»

      ***

      They climbed up a long twisted staircase made of stones. Only a small candle helped not to stumble. When they were outside, the dwarf whispered some words, and the huge eagles landed on the top of the mountain after a while. The connection between people and nature has long weakened. And gnomes and elves have always been good spellcasters of plants and animals. People possess only a meager fraction of this knowledge.

      Four travelers sat on the noble birds and flew up to the heavens, holding tightly to the feathers.

      Oh, this wonderful and unforgettable feeling of flying, this carefree, intoxicating freedom when you defeat the force of gravity.

      The dwarf did not deceive. The eagles dropped four travelers near the Capital.

      Fragments of a manuscript about Antimonik the Darkest. Deposed ruler

      Once upon a time, in the very center of the Beelzuvian kingdom, a city surrounded by an impregnable wall arose, the inhabitants of which refused to pay taxes. It’s not that they refused… It’s just that the tax collectors couldn’t get inside: there were no gates through which they could get inside the new state.

      Civil servants, who had already come here more than once, drummed for a long time, when a gate suddenly appeared in the impregnable wall, and a man in a black hood came out of it.

      – What do we owe to uninvited guests?

      – I am Rondalf, the state tax collector. The king demands payment of taxes and dues for the year.

      – Which king?

      – Geryon of Belzuvia, who else!

      – Is our city now subordinate to Geryon? As far as I know, our only ruler is Count Antimonik, our city-state has its own laws and religion.

      The tax collectors left, but after some time the king’s entire army arrived at the city walls. Geryon could not forgive disobedience. The battering rams crashed into the wall, but wood was weaker than stone and magic. Then the king gave orders to the generals to put up ladders, but there was not a single ladder that touched the top of the wall. The city was impregnable.

      Geryon returned home for the first time without victory. And even wine could not quench his anger. That night a stranger came to him, if it wasn’t just a dream.

      – I ask you, Geryon, give freedom to my state voluntarily. We have our own religion, our own ideas about the structure of the world.

      – Some of my servants want to be initiated into your beliefs, Antimonikos, son of Corvell. I knew your father, I knew your grandfather. I want to know you now too. Maybe your views on life are more correct than ours?

      Geryon was cunning. He hid his anger to find a way to the heart of the rebellious count. And Antimonik was still too trusting.

      – Let curious servants come to visit me. I will personally train them.

      ***

      A month later, Baron Stel, an honored guest of Count Antimonik, reported to Geryon:

      – I learned the basics of magic. The Order of Antimonica rules there. And only a member of the order who knows the spell can enter the city.