Chapter 13.

Exploring the flora and fauna of the alien forest (and there was a lot to see) turned out to be a fascinating activity. Together with Mez'A'Shib they explored the strange trees and animals (if they didn't hide when they approached them), and found five crystals and fragments of mosaic. At the same time the drow was carefully inspecting the plants, especially those that were infrequent and had unusual shapes or colors, constantly checking against the kobold's list. I should have taken it with me, Tim thought wistfully, but then I would have needed some sort of collection bag, too (too bad I didn't have any plastic bags handy!). Mez'A'Shib solved the problem simply by getting a piece of cloth somewhere and wrapping his findings in it. It's more difficulty with insects: they hardly can be placed in a pocket, and it is required to deliver them in the laboratory alive and not too crumpled. It needs jars with lids, but where to get them? But even without all that, just wandering through the woods was great! After all, Tim had never been in a real dark forest, only in clean, well-groomed parks, which even an inveterate optimist would not call 'wilderness'. And here, on top of that, there was so much to see! And once again he regretted about lack his cell phone here.

Because of all this, he had to literally force himself to go back up the mountain. Mez'A'Shib was sympathetic to Tim's desire to try to learn at least one spell.

"Come on! At the very least, you can pass it off as your gift of magic. I could barely stop Naar-Tam in the dining hall, or he would have spoken of our dungeon expedition. I didn't realize the peirots were so chatty."

"They are too cheerful to think before they speak. But I wouldn't rule Naar-Tam out of the group because of that."

"Nor would I. At least I wouldn't expect any tricks from him."

It was difficult to disagree, and Tim hurried to his quarters. He had already picked up a spell for training - the 'Sparks of Flame' mentioned by Master Saag-Kof at the lecture, the easiest to master. There was also a purely practical aspect here - what if a fire could be made?

As was described in the 'pop-upbook' at its successful casting several sparks (a number of which will depend on sorcerer's power) must appear. So, the test must be done away from things that can catch fire.

Pronouncing 'xeroblinz exlelloto' Tim pressed the button, but nothing happened. Of course, it would have been nice if it had worked the first time, but he didn't count on miracles. And if to try to 'eat' a crystal? Master Aerg for some reason didn't advise to addict it, but it is unlikely he'll become ill from only one crystal. In any case he must do it – if he will afraid of everything, he has nothing to do in the school. It's a pity there aren't any red crystals among his finds today. May be yellow ball will be suitable for it?

Putting the ball on his palm, after a short hesitation Tim uttered 'eflirg toakt' and touched it with the tip of his wand. The crystal burnt from the inside and melted flowing into a puddle that almost immediately soaked into the skin. He didn't feel heat however, only pleasant coolness. Too bad, he doesn't know how to estimate the magical power magnification. Probably, it hadn't been very much because the spell didn't work out again. And if one more ball? No, Tim pulled down himself; nobody guarantees the result and another crystal may be also lost in vain. It means only meditation can help him.

He ran his eyes over the manual again and chose a pose of sitting on the floor, with his back against the wall, his legs tucked under him, and his hands on his knees. In addition, one must say the word 'ishhou' to oneself until one becomes bored. Most likely it will happen very soon – Tim has never been able to remain motionless for a long time. But some later it may be repeated: no one said the effect can be achieved only after staying in the pose from morning to evening.

After sitting in the right way Tim resignedly closed his eyes and began to repeat mentally the word. 'Ishhou, ishhou, ishhou…' echoed somewhere inside driving him to sleepy state. An unexpected gust of wind slightly cooled inflamed head resurrecting memories in it. The park where they loved to walk as a family on weekends, the trip to the sea last summer, the local Disneyland, where his class was taken out one day together with parents and teachers, the faces of his classmates - the earthly ones that had become familiar during the years of study. And here is his house, surrounded by garden plot; when the mother was not busy at work, she liked to be engaged in its cultivation. But now it looked completely abandoned, as if no one had touched the plants for a month - the flowers had wilted without watering, and everything, even the paths, was overgrown with weeds. The door to the house was ajar, creaking in the wind. Cold with foreboding, he hurriedly opened it and peeked inside. The living room was a mess - the table was overturned, the armchair shells ripped in several places. The parents' room was no better - the bed was wrinkled, the clothes from the wardrobe piled on the floor beside it. It was better not to go into the kitchen at all - shards of a china set, given as a present on one of his wedding anniversaries, strewed the entire floor. Could it be that there had been a major family quarrel in his absence? But his parents had never quarreled in that way, at most a heated conversation which quickly ended in a reconciliation. And there was a thick layer of dust everywhere. May be they had decided to split up and leave this place for good? No, it couldn't be, they wouldn't leave him alone! Something terrible had happened here, but what exactly? And why? Perhaps he would find the answer in his own room? Overcoming with difficulty the fear he crossed its threshold. Broken screen of the TV, out-turned insides of the computer system unit and splodgy with some brownish green muck sofa didn't surprise him yet, but also didn't give answer on the question: what happened here during his absence? And if a gang of robbers infiltrated here in search of values and his parents were kidnapped? No, not murdered, they can't die, it just can't be! Finding his cell phone in his pocket, with a hand shaking with excitement, he dialed 911. Crimson-red numbers lit up on the screen, but instead of ringing the bell - a distant chime of the funeral bell. And then, instantly incandescent, the phone blackened and charred into a pile of ash. He had to get out of here, find one of the neighbors, let them make the call! But it was too late - with a loud crash the door closed, cutting off the way to escape, and it got very dark inside the house...

Tim opened his eyes with a shudder. What luck, it was only a dream! But how had he managed to fall asleep in such an uncomfortable position? They say when one is very tired one can fall asleep even standing up, but he had not done anything to fall off his feet from fatigue! Probably the effect of meditation - it was something he had never done before, and surprises were to be expected. The darkness was easy to explain - the sun had disappeared behind the clouds, and it would soon be even darker. And what was he frightened of, anyway? Strange and sometimes not entirely pleasant dreams had visited him before. It is interesting how much his power increased; Tim's thought took another direction. Probably it's better to meditate more time trying not to sleep. And at feeling he is becoming to go off – to interrupt meditation session immediately.

But no matter how hard he tried, he could not avoid it.

This time he was wandering through the forest, the same forest he and Mez'A'Shib had explored a few hours before. But the drow wasn't there now; he must have gotten distracted by the gathering of plants. And the longer was his way, the more apparent the change in the forest - the trees became shriveled and mossy, wisps of slime hung down from the leaves. Cheerfully twittering birds disappeared somewhere, their place was taken by somber black birds with curved beaks and ruby-red eyes. Instead of the grass that softly spring underfoot, he now had to walk on nasty smacking mud. How had he managed to wander into the swamp? May be this is due to the blue-grey fog that enveloped the forest; he couldn't see the outlines of the cliffs that served as landmarks, only what was close by. As a result, everywhere he looked he saw the same dreary landscape. But there was a light ahead - not the flame of a fire, but rather a lantern. Could it be that someone had gone in search of him? If they found him here, punishment was imminent, but better that than wandering endlessly through the filthy swamp. Deciding this, Tim ran toward the fire, though it wasn't easy: his feet were getting deeper and deeper in the mire. At last he managed to get close enough to it, only to find with horror that it was no lantern at all! On a stake driven into the ground a man's skull had been skewered, and an oily yellowish light was streaming from its empty eye sockets. Moving back he stubbed his toe on a snag and at full tilt fell into a stinking puddle. Mocking laughter was heard behind, and even the skull rattled in time to it bouncing on the stake. No way, they don't get him for free! Anger drove away fear; standing upright he took the challenge. Just at the right time his faithful wand turned out to be in his hand.

"Benzir alm eghurd!"

A swirl of dazzling white twinkles rushed to the skull literally exploding it from the inside. And the silence reigned on the glade in the middle of which the stake had been established.

"Not bad for such nobody as you," the mocking voice seemed to come from all directions. Tim looked around, ready to face his opponent, but there was no one there. However a few of seconds later outlines of strange creatures remotely resembling terrestrial varans showed through the mist. They were very terrible: rampant, with milky white skin covered with sparse wool of scarlet color – as if bleeding from numerous tiny wounds. In addition, they were armed with glass daggers – it was awful just thinking about how sharp cool glass cuts his stomach. Eyes of the creatures lit up with triumphant malice as if in anticipation of the moment when they will be able to skin him alive and then roast, or simply eat him raw. None of these options suited him. It means it's time to remember Master Saag-Kof's lessons.

"Burstan fehtrago dezrisst!"

Flames burst from the ground, encircling him in a ring of fire and scorching those who got close enough to him. Discontentedly grumbling 'varans' disappeared from sight, probably moved away to a safe distance and laid low waiting when the sorcery would finish its action and the flame go out by itself.

"One more point in your pouch," the voice continued to mock. "You amused me a little. However it's even more interesting: no pleasure to deal with sheep submissively waiting for a moment when they will be taken to a sacrificial altar. But keep in mind: a fly caught in a web can flutter as much as it like, a spider anyway get to it. Cat also not always eats a mouse preferring to play a bit with it. But the end will be the same."

"If the fly is strong enough it will tear the web and fly away. And the mouse will bite well the cat for last."

"Well, flutter, if you want. Though it only will prolong your sufferings."

The already dark sky grew even darker, filled with leaden clouds that rained down heavily, dousing the fire and soaking him from head to toe. And then a piercing wind blew in, growing colder with every second. The soaked clothes stuck to the body, burning it with cold and gradually hardening. Soon it began to snow and there was no color in the world but white. And there was only one thought: to find a place where it was warm and dry, and the sooner the better, while he was still able to move. But which way to go? The snowy haze surrounded him on all sides, and it was hard to make out anything at a distance. Losing hope, with bluish lips he shouted "Help!" three times hoarsely, but there was no response. He must have time to cast a spell... but which one? Though no words were spoken, the wand glowed, and the heat emanating from it drove away the sensation of becoming an ice statue. The runes carved into it glowed especially brightly, at one point formed into the inscription:

'You must find the Oracle'

After that the runes had formed another inscription, but he didn't have time to read it: a huge snowball hit him straight in the forehead knocking over and turning off consciousness.

When Tim came to, he was surprised to find himself lying on the floor; the door of the room was opened wide and hastily withdrawing her hand Selkise was nearby.

"Excuse me; I only touched your forehead. He is so hot! What if you got sick? Let me take you to the medical aid station!"

"I don't need it," Tim jumped on his feet. "I merely had been in meditative state and fell asleep. And I am not sick at all; simply you have body temperature lower than I. Due to it you were feeling a hot. Don't worry, I'm fine!"

The last thing he needs is that some girl makes a fuss of him as a hen of its chick!

"Well, no problem," Selkise was embarrassed. "It seemed to me that you feel bad. When someone being unconscious lies on a floor it is unlikely that this is because he likes it. Therefore I could not pass by."

"Wait a moment! How did you managed to open the door?"

"In no way. It was open."

"But when I started the meditation it undoubtedly had been closed!"

"In some situations it may open without the order. For example, if you call for help."

"But I didn't do it!"

"It's enough to do it mentally. And as far as I understand now, it works even when you are unconscious. By the way, it is very reasonable: when the door is closed no one will know that you had a misfortune. Of course, after some time your absence will be noted and the door will be opened from outside. But it may turn out that there will be no one to save."

It was said with a touch of resentment and Tim felt remorse.

"I'm sorry, I wasn't expecting such turn of events. I would never have thought that in such an uncomfortable pose one can fall asleep. It's not the technique of meditation but the technique of self-lulling!"

"Don't worry: with a little practice you'll learn to control your mind, disconnecting from what's going on around you, but not losing consciousness. We are taught this from an early age, almost as soon as the baby learns to walk and talk. But, as I noticed, your sleep was very restless."

"Why do you think so? Can an empath really see into someone else's dreams?"

"No, it's much simpler than that: while you were dreaming you made movements as if you were fighting someone off and then trying to escape."

"It really wasn't a pleasant dream," Tim mumbled, not wanting to go into details. "Now before the meditation session I have to deal with the inner fear of its repetition."

"Then it is better to tune in beforehand to positive emotions. For example, think of an event that is sure to end in success. Or remember something pleasant from your life before school."

The mention of 'life before' brought back visions of the first dream. Had something unpleasant happened at home? But no, what could have happened in just three days! They say that there are prophetic dreams, when a person sees events that will happen in the future, but he had never had such a dream before. Probably the only exception was the dream on his last night on Earth, although he had not yet met a bird with rainbow plumage. Usually his dreams were surreal combinations of things he had already seen, heard, or experienced. Though it would have been nice to be as skilled at wielding magic as in the second dream. But without the gloomy swamps, the icy rains and snowfalls, and the strange creatures with glass daggers.

"There are no roses without thorns," the same voice whispered snidely in his ear.

Tim flinched in surprise.

"Are you sure you're all right?" Selkise was worried again. "Take in mind, you can visit medical aid station even at night, no one will punish you for it."

"An interesting idea, actually! If somebody takes by the scruff of the neck, you may say that went for medical care but was slightly misdirected. "

"You, boys, are silly, aren't you? You'll be taken there, and when you're found to be well, you'll be prescribed "not-liar" in very large doses. After that, you won't be able to say anything but the truth."

"Luckily, there is no such drug!"

"Are you sure?"

And really, he may be forced to drink some alchemical muck that loosens the tongue. 'Truth serum' was invented on Earth without any magic. Almost certainly there are also spells under action of which you'll empty the bag.

"Okay, you win. It had to think of something more convincing."

"Can't you just not break the Code?"

"Then life would get really boring. What's the point of being a goody-goody? You won't be living for yourself, you'll be living for someone else, why do I need it?"

"We'll see what you say when you grow up."

"You think you're old enough to say that! You don't need to raise me!"

"I even wasn't going to," Selkise grinned. "But just to make sure you're all right, give me your hand."

"What for?"

"You'll see. And try to be serious."

A surprised Tim obediently held out his palm, which Selkise placed on top of hers. The minute their palms touched passed in silence.

"There didn't seem to be any reason to worry," she announced the verdict, and then she broke the contact between their bodies. "But the sensation is very unusual (Tim himself felt nothing but the coolness coming from her skin). Maybe you're an empath too, but you haven't realized yourself yet."

"Cool! Can I really learn to read someone else's mind?"

"Don't be ridiculous. You can't learn empathy in principle. If you don't have it, no amount of training will help."

"It's like a magical gift."

"Sort of. I have a different one, though. Sorrow. Or in other words, Depression. If you're under its influence, life will look very dark. And you'll get discouraged, and you'll be in a bad mood."

"Wow! You've got a combat skill!"

"It's rather a defensive one. Or disarming, whichever way you look at it. Actually it's nothing in comparison with the gifts of some of our classmates, especially the drowes. Did you know, for example, that Kakh'I'Geg can reanimate a corpse? And Nhel'Yu'Min can apply Pain?"

Tim was glad of the change of subject, he didn't need inquiries about his own gift. And to discuss the drowes instead – as much as you want! However, after some phrases Selkise finished the conversation.

"It's late, and it's bedtime for us. And I suggest you spend the night in bed, not wandering through tunnels with the risk of getting into a lot of trouble. Otherwise, you're gonna have a lot worse dreams."

"Whatever you say, commander."

"You are silly boy! Well, I'll see you in Twilight Magic class!"

And she was gone. Tim stared dumbly after her for a minute before he closed the door. Why was he so childish, really? Selkise seemed quite sincere about trying to take care of him. Not as a mother, more like as an elder sister. He didn't have any brothers or sisters, so he had nothing to compare it to.

Then he picked up the wand that was lying on the floor and examined it carefully. No, it hadn't changed. The symbols carved into it were dull and barely visible. And, of course, unreadable. He needs to find someone... but whom? Oh, nothing, it's make no sense to rack the brains for any kind of dream! Better to see if today's meditation made any sense at all.

"Xeroblinz exlelloto!"

The tip of the wand flashed for a moment, and two sparks flew from it. They faded before they reached the floor, but it didn't matter.

He had done it. Then all was not lost. Although the wand continued to stay cool and dim, no inscriptions appeared on it.