Cleanliness

Ink tensed. The aborigine hit something several times and a fire caught fire. Flames of yellow lit the room. The acquaintance held in his hands a coarse clay saucer in which liquid was burning. Rowne went to one of the containers and lowered her hand there with a smile. With a familiar squelch, she pulled out a silver lump.

- You did come to this world for this?

Ink raised an eyebrow, not understanding how she came to such conclusions.

"Don't be surprised," the beauty continued. "I saw you discussing the sharé." We do not understand your language, but people from any world have the same emotions and desires.

"Does she talk about those bald cats?" " Ink , it took time to understand the situation." He looked at the silver lump. Muzzle, paws, small ears folded towards the head. It was another bald cat. "He's different from those freaks."

Ink looked into the other containers. One lumps were very small - half a palm. Others are almost the size of an adult underground cat, which the locals called a share. The large ones even looked pretty. They also did not have wool, but the skin was folded in small patterns, resembling the scales of lizards. Patterns shimmered beautifully in the light of fire. The main difference was the suspiciously wrinkled skin above the nose.

"Shazire is hard to grow, but we learned how to do it," Rowne continued after Ink evaluated the contents of the slime containers. - Artificial womb with a nutrient mixture helps to grow these ideal avengers completely healthy. Unfortunately, they are all eyeless. Uncontrolled weapons ...

"Is it the same slime as the one that attacked Kiass, huh ?" - Ink did not understand what was special about silver cats, but he did not want to admit it. A change of subject seemed like a good idea.

- The nutrient mixture is not dangerous. She remains after the death of a large strangler, - explained the guy with a flashlight.

"How do you kill them?"

"We ..." the natives startled, meeting his eyes with Ink om and hurried to look at Rown.

"Leave us," the beauty said firmly.

The native put the bowl on a small shelf above the container and walked out of the room with a wooden gait. Ink felt a touch. Rowhn took his hand, picked up a bowl of fire and led to another room. It had only a bed and a small table.

"The way to kill a big strangler is our secret." It cost us dearly, "Rowan charmingly smiling, set the saucer with fire on the table and turned. Her fingers began to unfasten the buttons on her blouse. Ink saw that the clasps were made of horn or bone. "Certainly manual work," he thought, "is not the consumer goods that can be found in a zero world." Graceful carving, pure whiteness. Connoisseurs would have given much for the work of an unknown master, but all this turned pale against the background of Rown's graceful fingers and seemed insignificant against the background of her delicate skin.

"You can get our secret," the beauty whispered, and her eyes sparkled invitingly when she opened her clothes slightly, opening the best view to her small but seductive breasts. "You can get even more."

She came close to Ink and stood on tiptoe. Her lips poked awkwardly into his neck, cheeks. Rowne leaned on his shoulders and childishly ineptly, naively tried to cover her face with kisses.

"This body was not stained by anyone," the beautiful woman whispered with a trembling voice, making Ink's blood run faster and her heart to beat faster. "It is yours, without a trace." You can do whatever you want, I will reveal all the secrets.

Ink's hands grabbed Rowan's body and began to slide along the curves of her back. Swollen nostrils absorbed the scent of a girl - incomparable, almost elusive. The beauty trembled with excitement and thereby only intensified his passion to the limit.

"Anything you want ..." Rowun whispered. "Just get us out of here ..."

They poured a bucket of cold water on Ink . He took the girl by the shoulders, slightly pushed her away. She smiled happily and fell back on the bed. Her hands reached for Ink U, called to her.

- Do whatever you want. This is all for your sake. "She saw that Ink stopped and continued to undress while lying down. The beauty's voice was bewitching, beckoning, seducing, but in her eyes there was unbearable horror and despair.

"She barely holds herself so as not to cry," Ink realized . - This is not a tremor of excitement. This is primitive fear. "

- You are afraid? - the whisper of the beauty was interrupted. "Are you afraid of my horns?"

"No ... Of course not," Rowne got out of bed, deftly untied the braid on her skirt. A cloth of heavy matter fell to the floor, revealing to her eyes her legs, covered to the middle of her hips and her blouse unbuttoned to the end. She clung to Ink at. "I'm afraid ... afraid to disappoint you." This is the only chance ... for all of us ... How can I be afraid of my benefactor, the savior of all those who are locked in this small world?

"I don't remember saving you."

"But you can do it!" Whispered Rowan hotly. "I will be faithful to you until death." I am ready to fulfill any order, kiss my legs. I saw ... saw in the dreams of other people. Many have different desires. I am ready to fulfill whatever you order. Just let my people leave this place. I am ready for anything ... for everything ...

She again became uncomfortable poking lips in Ink a. Tears flowed from her eyes.

"Don't chase me away," she prayed as Ink stopped her. - If I do something wrong, say ... I will do everything ... everything ...

Ink was thinking about how to explain to her that he was just the same slave. There was a loud clatter from behind.

Comrade Rowne burst into the room and hesitantly froze.

"Ah ..." he let out only an indistinct moo, looking at the illuminated scene.

- Go away! Snapped Rowhn.

The native shuddered and quickly approached.

"Rowan," he hissed, "no, don't scream."

- Get out! - the beauty pushed him away. - How dare you show disrespect to the master!

The indigenous paled even more. He clutched Rowhn's mouth with a dirty smelly rag. Ink recognized in him the very mantle that was on the trinity during their meeting in the cave.

"Hush," the native said in a barely audible whisper to his girlfriend. - Hush, Rowne. They are here.

The beautiful woman wriggled and mumbled, but then her eyes widened. She was silent. A chiseled female pen lifted the edge of the mantle. It seemed that the girl saw not familiar clothes, but a death sentence. Her face turned pale. The beauty quickly and quietly began to wrap herself in a dirty rag. Part of the legs was bare. The whiteness of seductive hips, the chiseled line of the lower leg, the porcelain-white fingers on a small foot. A stark contrast to the stinky cloak.

Rowhn sat on the floor. A big shiver hit her. The guy helped her wrap herself up, then took out another cloak and threw it on top. A shadow of relief managed to appear on his face when the roof of the room was blown down.

The crack of a dry tree was accompanied by street light striking into the eyes.

Ink touched his cheek. Blood flowed from a small sliver of cut. It wasn't too worrying, because a demon hung from above. The monster roared joyfully and with a slight wave threw Ink away.

- No! The indigenous man cried out loudly when the monster's paw grabbed the girl wrapped in a rag.

Rowne herself erupted in panic. She squealed and managed to slip out of the demon's paws. She still had a long blouse, but covered almost nothing. The demon's nose eagerly sucked in air, the eyes of the huge monster turned red, and the pupils clenched while looking at the small figure that threw itself through a gap in the wall of the house.

She failed to escape. The demon's second paw moved abruptly and grabbed the victim.

- Let her go! Ink shouted , but then he remembered how stupid the creature was. He rushed forward to the monster that had already opened its mouth. A thread of consciousness with a sharp flash approached the head of a horned giant, duplicating his order at a level understandable to any rational creatures. "I said let her go!"

Ink cried out loud and mentally, but the demon ignored all his efforts. The monster drove his nose along the body screeching in horror of Rowhn, pulled the white body closer and prepared to bite his teeth ...

- Let her go!!! - Ink turned the thread of reason into the demon's head, wrapped it around a strange web of consciousness.

The monster roared into the sky. A loud roar - where is the lion! - was like a complaint from an unjustly offended child. Ink echoed him. The head, as if doused with boiling water and began to process emery. Intolerable pain was interrupted by a flash of scarlet light.

"Blot!"

Part of the archdemon consciousness struck the brazed threads of the mind of two creatures. Ink swallowed heavily, trying through the throbbing pain to see the world around him. The demon shook its head and roared again and again. At his feet lay a white body, painted in streams of red. Ink saw the same red spots on the claws of a demon. The monster did not eat Rowhn, but still inflicted a fatal injury.

"How so ... how so ..." muttered a native.

Ink extended the thread of mind to Rown, but was afraid to touch directly so as not to harm. She looked at him and moved her lips.

"Save ..." Rown thought. "Save ... my people ..."

"I promise," Ink answered . He did not have the courage to admit that he did not know where the exit was.

Ink saw on Rowhn's face horror followed by appeasement and gratitude.

"Thank you, my lord ..."

Her eyes did not move, it seemed Ink was looking into the very soul , and from this look something inside him broke. He hardly knew Rowhn, but in the face of a natural enemy, is there anyone closer than fellow humans?

"No! It's not over yet! "

Ink rushed to the containers with slime, grabbed the largest silver cat and returned to Rowan. He laid the animal on her head and tried to repeat the same thing as earlier with the "blots" and demons. A thread of reason passed through the head of a cub of a beast and got into the remnants of a girl's consciousness.

Ink saw the light of reason glowing with a bright pink flame. He was melting before his eyes. After the death of the brain, the web lost its support in the material world and was blurred in space. Ink neatly surrounded the remains of the lantern Rown with his threads and activated the voice of consciousness to move him. Nothing came of it. The rest of the girl's mind resisted, as if space itself was trying to pull it somewhere into the distance. It seemed like an astronaut, and the brain was a spaceship. Having lost the latter, it remained only to become food for the cold interstellar space.

Ink spat on the risk and touched the pink thread directly. This action immediately caused an outbreak of pain. The pink light flashed brighter and began to melt even faster. By intuition, Ink tried to change the color of his thread. From blue he shifted to purple at the ends. The pain is gone. The web has become one with a gradient transition in one area, but it was too late.

Ink did not feel a single fluctuation in the girl's thoughts. This was no longer consciousness. Another blot. He continued stubbornly to pull the faded light into the mind of the animal. Rooted a pink amoeba, but felt the futility of his actions.

Rowne was dead. Ink understood this very clearly. He stepped aside and felt the tension of mind between him and the silver cat stiffen and tremble. A couple more steps further, and this connection would destroy the "blot" left from Rown's mind. Ink returned to the animal, picked it up and put it in a small container with a special belt. He threw a strip of leather over his shoulder and sauntered along the road to a plaintively roaring demon.

"They shouldn't have come so early ..." the girl's friend muttered softly.

- What's going on here? Ink asked in a hoarse voice.

- The slaughter. Devouring. If we only knew ... Is it because we are close to their territory? - continued to mutter the native.

"Then you should run away." You were there too. So you'll become the demon's next target. " Ink tried to bring the aborigine sitting on the ground to his senses.

- I AM? Ha ha ... no ... ha ha ... it would be better if it were me. It would be better if this creature devoured me! - the guy cried and laughed bitterly. - Smell. These creatures do not eat "dirty food." They prey only on the pure. Purity ... In this world, purity is a death sentence. Immersed in the mud completely, a person will die of infection, but to be completely clean is even more dangerous. Demons smell them and kill first. Devouring a pure being is their greatest pleasure.

The aborigine awkwardly grabbed Ink by the leg in the knee area.

- We always go in dirty clothes. She washed today ... - the guy raised his head and looked at Ink a lost look . "Especially for you ... she ... no ... if we only knew ... No ..."

Ink gritted his teeth to a creak and turned away. He had nothing to answer to the shocked man. His eyes settled on a howling demon. It was burned with hatred inside, and this pain was a hundred times unbearable than the caustic touch of the thread of the mind on a particle of the archdemon.