William Calhoun and the Black Feather. Book I. Aik Iskandaryan

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СКАЧАТЬ sorry, sir! I haven’t noti…»

      «Vulpik!» Nymus cried out. «I can’t believe my letters!» He knelt down and hugged the grey-haired old man he’d just called Vulpik. «Why you, Tattered Parcel, still growling at everyone in the morning, as I can see!»

      «Nymus!» the old man with the crooked nose recognized him. «Celestine’s Monogram! May I Lose My Letters! Which winds have brought your envelopes here? Are you with us again?»

      «Yes! With a wizard again!» Nymus told him.

      Then the eyes of mailmage Vulpik stared at William’s shoes meaningfully and then slowly went up until they reached his face.

      «A Calhoun?» he said with distrust, turning back to Nymus.

      «Yes!» Nymus nodded with a satisfied smile. «To be exact, the last of the Calhouns.»

      Vulpik got up suddenly, almost pressing himself to William, and started examining him. He seemed to have forgotten all about the letters he’d been looking for.

      After giving William an intent look from head to toe, he said slowly:

      «So here you are…»

      «This’ll be enough! Go back to your letters, you Tattered Parcel!» Nymus shooed him off. «I’ll pay you a visit after lunch if I’m free. So get ready, set a table. Let’s Seal some Envelopes!»

      «I’m so glad to see you again, Nymus! Celestine’s Monogram! Years away haven’t changed you a bit!»

      And Vulpik disappeared as suddenly as he had appeared.

      «Nymus,» William dared to break the silence, «who’s Celestine?»

      «Marcus Celestine is the founder of the Magic Post Office and the whole system of mailmages that has been working all over the world for many centuries. When we take the oath to our master, we do it by placing our hand on the Post Office Code signed by Marcus Celestine.»

      «Wow…» William drawled, «you have your own world in here, as I can see!»

      In a few minutes, a young black-haired curly mailmage in glasses approached them and addressed Nymus:

      «Nymus House Representative?»

      «Yes! I came to get my Mailmage license back!»

      «The Postmaster is absent today. His deputy is ready to see you! Follow me!»

      And the young secretary headed towards one of the numerous doors. It lead to a narrow corridor with a marble floor. The corridor was rather dark and gloomy and was a great contrast to the bright hall they’d just left. There were numerous offices along the corridor, on both sides. Each door had a sign shaped like an upturned open envelope with the name of the department on it and the second sign sticking out, shaped like a piece of paper. That one stated issues and tasks each Magic Post Office Department handled. William noticed that one of the envelope signs on the door said «Magic Post Office Archive’, and the piece of paper added «Authorized personnel only’.

      Finally, the young secretary stopped by the door, the envelope sign on which said: «Postmaster Deputy, Thomas Hill’. The bottom part of the sign, instead of the customary piece of paper, was decorated with a large Post Office emblem – a yellow envelope with a green MPO monogram and a white magic feather inside, which symbolized how inseparable the kins of wizards and mailmages were. Below there was the motto of the Magic Post Office, already familiar to William from Nymus, in large red letters: «From Kin to Kin, Kin for the good of Kin’.

      The curly mailmage told them to wait and entered the room, then came out a minute later to say:

      «The Postmaster Deputy is expecting you!»

      With that, he disappeared in the dark corridor.

      Nymus entered the door, William following him closely. The office of the deputy of the Magic Post Office Master turned out to be surprisingly bright and spacious. William looked around. The first thing that he noticed was a statue, the height of a fourteen-year-old boy, depicting a big-handed figure in a uniform, running somewhere. On the inside of his palm there was an envelope corner. Behind this figure, there was a second one – in robes, with a long feather in his hand. There was a sign in golden letters on the bottom part of this statue: «Kin for Kin, from Kin to Kin!»

      «Please, sit down,» said an old mailmage wearing red robes. His face was adorned with a long beard. «I am Thomas Hill, deputy to the Magic Post Office Master.»

      The massive table before the Postmaster deputy had a few dozen papers, with the same number of red feathers over them writing something fast and without a break. These feathers were different from William’s. They were smaller and, as William guessed, used only for writing. There were two massive armchairs with soft seats next to this massive table.

      That was where Nymus and he sat down. The low armchair made it hard for William to make out the face of Thomas Hill. Besides, the fluttering of feathers over the table made it even more difficult. But William made an attempt to focus his eyes on Mr. Hill’s face.

      The deputy of the Magic Post Office Master addressed Nymus:

      «Your letter says that you desire to get reinstated as a mailmage.»

      «Yes, that is correct!» Nymus replied with a slight tremble in his voice.

      «Your letter also says that you have somehow managed to find an offspring of the kin your kin has served loyally for many centuries,» Thomas Hill continued.

      «Yes, that is true!» Nymus’s voice sounded more confident with every question.

      «Your letter also mentions that fourteen years ago the abovementioned wizard kin YOUR kin used to serve was killed in a mass murder and that since then the Calhouns were considered a dead kin.»

      «Yes, that is correct!»

      «And you state that this young man,» he pointed at William, «you have arrived with is that representative of the Calhoun kin?»

      Nymus glanced at William and replied:

      «Yes, Your Mailness!»

      William could barely keep himself from laughing when Nymus address the Postmaster’s deputy this way.

      «Please, young man,» he turned to William, «allow me to look at your magic feather.»

      William looked over at Nymus and he gave him a nod. William took the box with the magic feather from his backpack. This puzzled Thomas Hills.

      «May I ask you,» he addressed William, «what are you doing?»

      «Er… I’m taking my magic feather out, sir,» he replied politely.

      «From a box in your backpack?»

      «Yes,» William said unsurely and looked over at Nymus again.

      «You see, Your Mailness, Master Calhoun grew up without knowing that he…»

      «What?» Thomas Hill asked dryly.

      «That СКАЧАТЬ