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

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      ***

      It was bright already. And it was raining, quite usual for this time of the year, raindrops beating against the window of the room William was sleeping in. With his nose pressed to his pillow, he was still watching his last dream, when something barely noticeable and soft tickled his nose. For another half a minute William was resisting it, as he kept sleeping, but the insistent irritator covered his face completely. William sneezed loudly and tore his head from the pillow. As he opened one eye, he tried to see who had disturbed his sleep, but the only thing he saw were white hairs that had obscured the world. He pulled out the magic feather that had halfway come out from under the pillow. Lately he placed it there before sleep. Holding the feather tight in his hand, William sat up.

      «Listen, buddy,» he addressed the feather strictly. «Let’s agree on one thing: if you want to continue being friends with me, you’ll never wake me up without a reason again. Like it or not, but I’m the boss around here! Otherwise, next time you’re going to sleep under the bed!»

      As a reply, the feather seemed to have drooped in his hand, then William said to it, softer this time:

      «No offence, alright? Just try not to wake me up in such an unpleasant way. And I was kidding about the bed…»

      This made the feather straighten up again, but, probably to show obedience, it moved its hairs a little bit.

      «Wonderful!» William said in a satisfied voice and jumped off his bed.

      Since the day William stopped going to school, he couldn’t find what to do with his time when he stayed home alone. Before, he devoted all of the time to homework and now, when he stayed at home alone, he just paced his room, waiting for Nymus. This time he wasn’t just waiting for news from him, but Nymus himself. In a few hours, he was going to go to Germany, and since morning, he had an unbearable desire to speed up time to make the time of the trip closer. It wasn’t difficult to convince Mrs. Hoggart to let him spend the weekend at Bobby Atkinson’s place. William stayed with him for a day or two before. Hoggarts trusted William completely and he had never let them down before. So this time it went alright as well. William said that he would go straight to Bobby’s after school, so he said his goodbyes to Mr. and Mrs. Hoggart and wished them goodnight, then returned to his room and fell asleep soon.

      Since morning, William was getting ready for his trip to Germany, pleasantly excited. Though, frankly speaking, the preparation consisted of him patiently lying on his bed, trying to imagine what was waiting for him out there, among other wizards, at the castle of Quincy von Bulberg, and what would the ball be like.

      He glanced at his watch – they showed quarter past five. «Nymus should come soon!» he said to himself and started pacing the room again. He checked once again if his magic feather was with him, but it was, so he put it back into his pocket. Then he walked to the window, following some kind of instinct, to see if there was anyone by the door, but then he remembered that Nymus wasn’t in the habit of entering the house through the door. Hoggarts weren’t back yet. They were usually back home not earlier than six, but who knew what their schedule was today. «I wish Nymus would come!» he thought, glancing at the watch.

      Nymus came very soon.

      «Good Mail, Master Calhoun!»

      «Nymus! Finally! I’ve started to worry! I’ve been just lying on my bed all day, having nothing to do, waiting for you to come!»

      «You should have written to me! I would have come right away!» the mailmage replied.

      «I didn’t want to waste your time! I’ve been at the Post Office and I still remember how many letters were there and other stuff! So I’ve decided to be patient instead and wait for the set hour!»

      «Well, there was really a lot to do at the Post Office, what is written stays written!» Nymus sighed. «Has Master Calhoun taken the letter with the invitation to the Ball?»

      «Damn!» William swore. «I’ve completely forgotten about it!»

      He took the letter from the Department out of the drawer and pulled the invitation out.

      «There, we can go!» he said.

      «Then hold on tight to my hand!» he gave William his hand and they peregrined.

      The familiar peregrining sensation didn’t cause discomfort anymore. Quite the contrary, in that little time that had passed since his first peregrining, he got used to it so much that he couldn’t imagine any other way of travelling. When the peregrining was over, he was terrified to find that he was standing two steps away from giant hooves rushing at him. Frightened, he was going to jump away to avoid being trampled, but large nimble hands of the mailmage held him, preventing him from doing it.

      «No, no! It is but a statue, Master Calhoun! We are in the Waiting Hall of the Cabstation!»

      It took William a few moments to catch his breath. Once he’d managed that, he felt embarrassed for being afraid of the harmless statue. He soothed himself by the fact that normal statues didn’t have a habit of scaring people, so he had nothing to be ashamed of.

      «Even though they are carrying their carriage at full speed, they never leave their niche,» Nymus pointed at the pedestal below.

      «It would have been nice to get a warning BEFORE peregrining!» he was still staring at the unusual sculpture. «What are they made of?»

      «Common stone,» the mailmage replied casually.

      «Yes, but stone has immobile nature, as far as I know. Or are you going to say otherwise?»

      «No, I am not!» Nymus smiled. «Wizards have a way of treating stone, Master Calhoun! They are capable of turning it into anything at all. Long time ago, when demits were still in close contact with wizards, this skill made demits call wizards stonemasons. It is no secret that many sculptures of demits were made by wizards.»

      «No secret for whom?» even though William got used to Nymus with his strange stories, but sometimes he had to struggle not to go mad from some of them. «Fine, forget it!»

      He looked around. The Waiting Hall of the Cabstation was at least several times larger than those of demits. It looked like a giant building with stone slabs on the floor. Perhaps those slabs or perhaps something else gave this rather spacious hall a subtle resemblance to a medieval dungeon where they tortured people. A huge statue depicting a carriage pulled by three giant white elks, which stood in the middle of the Hall, made the atmosphere even gloomier. Stumping their hooves, yet not moving from their spot, the elks were tirelessly pulling СКАЧАТЬ