The Mist and the Lightning. Part I. Ви Корс

to us."

      Nikto slowly walked down the stairs and approached the company.

      "Hello," he said.

      "Good morning," Tol waved to him. "You don't look good, you know."

      "Orel, may I sit with my back to the window?" Nikto asked.

      "Fine," Orel said. "Enriki, let him sit in your place."

      Enriki exchanged places with Nikto in surprise. Now Nikto was sitting on the right from Orel, next to Lis. He took a cup silently and started drinking.

      "Nikto, you didn't warn me the daylight caused you such problems," Orel said, "and today isn't even sunny."

      "I'm okay," Nikto said, "I've just forgotten when I got up in the morning for the last time."

      "I wouldn't say you're okay," Orel said. "You're totally NOT okay, in fact."

      He leaned towards Nikto.

      "Loot at me."

      Nikto slowly looked up.

      "Tell me the truth, do you see anything?"

      "Yes," Nikto said quietly but firmly. He lowered his eyes again.

      "What are you talking about?" Tol asked in surprise.

      "The thing is, my friend Tol, Nikto doesn't see shit when it's light!"

      Lis turned to Orel in astonishment.

      "It can't be!"

      "Oh fuck," Enriki said.

      "Is he like an owl?" Tol asked.

      "I don't know! Maybe, even worse than an owl!"

      "I can see!" Nikto said defiantly.

      "Really? What is Tol holding? Answer me!"

      Tol froze in fear with a piece of bun in his hand. Nikto even didn't glance at him.

      "Orel, I'm all right."

      "What is Tol holding?"

      "Orel…"

      "What is Tol holding, fuck you!"

      "Bread, bread," Nikto hissed. "He's holding bread."

      Tol frantically put the bun back.

      "Orel, stop it. Please?" he said.

      "Nikto, don't get on my nerves," Orel said. "If you do, you'll regret it."

      "What do you want from me?"

      "Truth."

      "Yes, the light blinded me at first but now it's all right, A few more days and my eyes change their mode completely. My vision will be better than yours."

      "We are going out and it is much lighter in the street than it is here!"

      "I'll put on sunglasses."

      "Fine, we'll see." Orel took out a sheet of paper from his pocket. "It's your pass to the Upper City. You just have to put your name into it. Your name will be Nik – I decided to call you that. Tol, give us ink and a quill. Can you write it yourself?" He gave the paper to Nikto.

      "Enough of testing me!" Nikto took the quill and wrote confidently: Nik To.

      Orel smiled.

      "Good. Name is Nik, family name is To."

      The friends laughed.

      "All right, put on your mask and sunglasses, I don't know how you're going to put them both, and we're going to the city. Does your horse see by day?"

      "Yes," Nikto snapped.

      "Let's go! Enough stuffing yourself, Tol, we're leaving."

      "Nikto, put on some gloves, too," Enriki added. "Your hands are somewhat…"

      "I got it."

      They rode through the castle gates: first Orel on his black beauty, without a mask and a hood; his dark-brown hair streamed in the wind. Lis followed him, then Enriki, Nikto and the last was Tol.

      Lis came alongside with Orel on the slope of the hill.

      "Orel, I saw that. Nikto didn't look what Tol was holding, not even once," he said quickly.

      "What do you mean?"

      "He just knew what Tol was holding."

      He didn't give Orel time to answer and spurred his horse forward.

      Chapter 6

      In the Arbor

      "Do you like our domain?" Orel asked Nikto proudly.

      "Yes."

      They were sitting on the second floor of the restaurant in the Upper City: it was an arbor made of carved stone, decorated with ivy. It was quiet and fresh here; just some music and noise of crowds reached them from the square.

      Tol sprawled in the chair; he took off his cloak and closed his eyes. Enriki sat next to him and smoked thoughtfully. Lis looked down at the square leaning with his cheek against the tracery grate and pushing away the leaves of ivy. Orel put his legs on the table. Nikto, as usual, leaned against the back of the chair; his face was hidden by a black mask. Black glass glimmered in the slits for the eyes. His hands were covered with gloves, the fingertips cut off not to impede his claws.

      He smoothened his shaggy hair lazily.

      "They went just crazy when seeing me," he drawled.

      "They'd gone even crazier had they seen you without your mask," Tol said.

      "Never mind, they'd get used," Orel said. "Take off your mask."

      "Let the owner bring our drinks first," Nikto objected.

      "Don't mind him."

      Nikto pushed the lower part of the mask down slightly and put a cigarette into the opening. "No," he said. "I don't mind him but I've had enough of everyone staring at me."

      "And I've had enough of talking to a man without a face!"

      Nikto stubbed the cigarette harshly and tore off the mask; his face was angry, eyes glaring fiercely. He tossed the mask on the floor.

      "Happy now?" He turned away from Orel. Leaning on his elbow on the table, he covered the scarred half of his face with his palm and lit another cigarette.

      "Orel, you hurt him," Enriki said.

      Orel touched Nikto's hand that held the cigarette.

      "Hey," he said quietly, "I always ask you to take off your mask because I like to see your face, I didn't mean to hurt your feelings."

      "Fine, fine." Nikto took a drag. "I've got it. But I'm tired of it: put on the mask, take off the mask, put on the mask, take off…!"

      "I'm sorry," Orel said.

      "Let him wear it when he feels like," Tol said.

      "Then he won't take it off at all," Orel objected. "It's made in such a way he doesn't need to take it off at all. Am I right, Nikto?"

      "Yes, you are."

      "And I don't like it."

      "Why do you care?" Nikto asked in annoyance.