William Calhoun and the Black Feather. Book I. Aik Iskandaryan
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СКАЧАТЬ style="font-size:15px;">      «Are you serious?»

      «Of course! It’s a well-known fact that elks can run at the speed of more than two hundred miles per hour. As for white elks, they pull their carriages at the speed of over four hundred miles.»

      William was starting to feel irritated when he heard something for the first time, but this «something» was followed by «everyone knows». «Well, I’ll have to get used to it!» he thought to himself and asked:

      «Are the Blue-eyed that kind of elks?»

      «They are, but they are the only representatives of their kind!» Wayne said busy-like. «The others were driven to death.»

      Meanwhile, the Six O’Clocker pushed from the bottom with the hooves of its Blue-eyed and was speedily going up to the shore. After reaching it, it didn’t go out of the water, but drove the horns of the Blue-eyed into the ground and submerged the cabin into the underground semi-darkness, illuminated by two dull lamps, as before.

      «There,» Wayne looked out of the round window, «we’ll arrive soon!»

      The Six O’Clocker moved underground for a short time, then it rushed to the surface, accompanied by the endless racket of the hooves of the Blue-eyed, until it was on the surface again, following its course, but moving at a slower pace than before. The underground darkness made way to the twilight of the majestic mountains. When William looked out of the window, he was able to make out only that they were moving on the ground, like a normal carriage was supposed to do. But it was impossible to make out anything else because of the stubborn fog and the mist on the glass.

      «Is it far to the castle?» he asked Wayne.

      «Almost there!» he replied. «The Six O’Clocker only moves on the ground in two cases: when it takes passengers and when they are to get off.»

      He’d just finished talking, when the speed of the mysterious cab started to slow down, then it slowly came to a halt in a mountain area.

      William reached out for his things, ready to get off, by Wayne stopped him:

      «Wait, not yet! We aren’t supposed to get off until a curator comes to take us to the castle.»

      «So we’re up for another journey, this time to the castle?»

      Wayne just shrugged to that.

      William sat down again, waiting for the curator to show, and soon the cabin door opened suddenly, letting in cool mountain air. He breathed it in deeply and sat with his eyes shut for a while, enjoying the work of his own lungs. Then a head showed up in the open door and an unfamiliar voice started talking, making them both jump.

      «Are you going to sit here till morning? Do you want me to continue risking my health and freezing out here?» said a young wizard in purple robes. He had slick hair and an unhappy face. His robes had a red «G» on the front.

      William hurried to get out, and Wayne, who had also been sitting with his eyes closed, doubly happy to feel fresh air, followed him at once. When they got out of the cabin, stepping out on the frozen ground, the young wizard headed to a group of enrolees waiting for them nearby. He made a few steps forward, then turned around and addressed the group:

      «Alrighty, kids! I’m Morty, a junior curator. Don’t huddle and stand in a line! My task is to take you safely to the castle and stay at your side at all times, to make sure you don’t do anything stupid!» He glanced around the foggy landscape. «It’s easy to get lost here, especially with this visibility, so try to keep up and follow me!» At this, he turned around and headed to the castle.

      After the enrolees had covered some distance, there was loud a echo from the thumping of hooves, after which the mountain area was filled with shrill elk cry, which made everyone slow down involuntarily.

      «No stopping! Move along!» Morty’s voice said.

      And they continued moving at a usual pace. Not far, on both sides, William could see other groups through the fog, which were following their curators to the castle, dressed in black hooded robes. He thought that from the side their silent procession looked more like a secret druid gathering.

      They walked in silence. The atmosphere of this foggy area instilled some level of fear and everyone tried to keep close to the person in front not to stray from the path. Getting lost in the fog, in the mountains, seemed a rather gloomy and easily achieved prospect. Finally, they reached stone gates, passed through them, and came to the base of the stairs leading to the castle. Then Morty addressed them again:

      «Everyone here? We haven’t lost anyone on the way?»

      «All here!» the enrolees replied in a chorus.

      «Great! Then follow me and step very carefully! Hold on to the railings in the middle of the stairs!» After saying this, he turned and started ascending the stairs slowly, leading the scared enrolees.

      On both sides, the stairs were lit with torches hidden in mouths of stone dragons directed upwards. And their scaly stone wings towered over the stairs themselves, giving them a more frightening look. The patches of thin fog, pierced by the firelight, made it easy to imagine that these dragons were real. After making it up a few round stairs and nearly slipping on one of them, William realized that they were made of stone dragon tails placed close to each other. The long tails were stretched out to create a step when touching the tail of the opposite dragon. They intertwined in the middle of the stairs with their diamond-shaped tips, forming a kind of railing, which junior curator Morty advised to hold on to.

      Finally, leaving endless steps behind, the enrolees reached a wide landing, finding themselves before the entrance to the castle. The doors were open wide, letting the light flow onto the landing. All curators moved forward and stood in groups on both sides of the oak front doors. There was short silence and the enrolees started exchanging looks, whispering quietly to each other. Soon this whisper turned into real hum. Glancing around, William couldn’t find Wayne Ferguson, then he decided that he would try to find him later in the castle, when the crowd dispersed.

      «Welcome to Alpurg, enrolees!» came a female voice with heavy German accent.

      William couldn’t make out the face of the one who spoke. The backs of the enrolees standing in front of him made it hard to see. But he managed to. There was a tall noble-looking middle-aged woman, with a high hairstyle and an arrogant expression, standing in the doorway. She was wearing emerald-coloured robes with very narrow sleeves.

      «To the residence of Baron Quincy von Bulberg,» she continued, «the president of the International Federation of Wizards! I am Frau Bertha, and while you are at the castle, I will be your senior curator! If you have any questions, you should address them to me! And now come forward and stand along the walls, near the curators.»

      Everyone did as told quietly and now the enrolees were standing close to the walls on both sides of the front doors. When no enrolees were left on the upper stairs, Frau Bertha took out her silver magic feather and ordered loudly:

      «Avolare!» And a purple light came out of her feather and pierced the neck of one of the stone dragons.

      To the utter horror of the enrolees, right before their eyes, the grey stone colour started disappearing gradually, revealing coal-black scaly bodies, before revealing СКАЧАТЬ