South of Korosten

  Rianes’s squad was finishing dinner. The conversations were fading, fighters drifting off to rest. Some cleaned their gear, others sat in silence, staring into the fire. The day had been long, and the tension was slow to loosen its grip.

  That was when one of the Pale guards approached Rianes and spoke briefly:

  “Queen Valeria is expecting you.”

  No explanation.

  No commanding tone.

  He wished the squad a good rest and followed the guard.

  They walked through the entire settlement—past living quarters, quiet courtyards, lit windows. People were heading home. Somewhere there was laughter, somewhere the clatter of dishes, but most sounds dissolved into the evening stillness.

  At the farthest edge of the gorge stood one of the two largest buildings. Massive, built into the rock, it didn’t demand attention—but if one had to guess where the rulers lived, the answer was obvious.

  They climbed a narrow path to the very top.

  From there, the whole settlement lay open below. The lake reflected light. Oil lamps and torches dotted the stone with warm points of light. And above it all hung a bright moon tonight—sharp, cold, almost too close.

  The guard led Rianes inside.

  The room was spacious. One wall featured a large window of frosted glass that opened upward, serving as a sunshade during the day. Now it was raised, letting the night air flow freely inside.

  “Wait here,” the guard said and left, closing the door softly behind him.

  Rianes was alone.

  He walked over to the window and stood there for a long time, looking down at the settlement. The light of lanterns. Shadows between buildings. The slow movement of life below. Up here, at this height, everything felt distant, almost calm.

  The room was strange, yet deliberate.

  At its center stood a large stone, polished smooth by time. Around it, carefully tended tree roots pushed up through the floor without breaking it. Plants that never grew on the surface. Dishes of unfamiliar shapes. Figurines—abstract, old, their edges worn smooth. And light everywhere: candles of different heights and forms, arranged so no harsh shadows were cast.

  This was a reception hall near a throne room.

  He didn’t wait long.

  Valeria entered from an adjacent chamber. Two Pale Ones walked beside her. Rianes recognized one of them immediately. They had met long ago, back in the old Pale camp near Hariv.

  They exchanged brief greetings with Rianes. No pomp. No tension. And just as quietly, the two Pale Ones left the room, leaving the two of them alone.

  The door closed.

  The candlelight flickered slightly in the draft.

  And the silence changed.

  The moment Valeria and Rianes were alone, the queen didn’t give the silence even a second.

  It felt as if she had been waiting for this all evening, and now the words burst out—sharp, unfiltered.

  “Ri, did you even think about what you were doing when you brought Cross here?!” Her voice trembled not with fear, but with anger. “Do you have even a drop of common sense left? And those two from the city—do you trust them? Because I don’t!”

  She began pacing in front of him, gesturing wildly.

  “We ran halfway across the world so no one would ever find us. You stayed silent for fifteen years. Fifteen! And now you show up here with your squad—and you bring them. Into my city!”

  She stopped abruptly.

  “Did Velm eat the last of your brains, or what?! At least you didn’t drag that idiot here with you.”

  Rianes exhaled slowly, trying to ease the tension.

  “Calm down. You saw it yourself—you handled him. Almost talked him into it.”

  She spun around sharply.

  “Calm down?!” Her eyes flared. “Do you have any idea what it was like for me to see him here? To stand in front of everyone and not lose control?”

  Her voice broke.

  “Do you think I didn’t want to just order all of you killed? I did. Very much.”

  “I had no choice,” Rianes replied quietly. “If it hadn’t been you, we’d already be fighting. Your people would have killed us anyway if Cross hadn’t taken the Suggestor.”

  “Then why the hell did you come here at all?!” She stepped closer. “You know how we make contact. You don’t barge in with a… beast onto our territory.”

  Her words didn’t stop. They came sharp and fast, each one cutting deeper than the last. Rianes tried to answer, then gave up. There was no space for logic in this storm.

  At some point, he stepped forward.

  He caught her wrists—but not roughly—holding them still before she could strike him with another accusation. She tried to pull away, eyes flashing.

  “Ri—”

  He didn’t silence her with force. He leaned closer instead, close enough that she had to choose whether to push him back.

  She didn’t.

  He released one of her wrists. His hand slid to her waist instead. She inhaled sharply but did not step away.

  “Don’t,” she said—but it lacked command now.

  He paused there. Close enough to feel her breath. Close enough to stop.

  If she had pushed him, he would have stepped back.

  She didn’t.

  The anger in her eyes shifted—still there, still burning—but no longer directed at him alone.

  He turned her gently, his hands guiding rather than forcing. She resisted for a heartbeat, then stilled. When he drew her toward the table, she moved with him.

  The window stood open behind them. Lantern light flickered across the room. The city lay exposed beyond the glass—alive, unaware.

  He touched her slowly, giving her time to refuse.

  She didn’t.

  When he turned her to face him and lifted her onto the edge of the table, there was no struggle left. Only tension—old, dangerous, familiar.

  The candles trembled in the draft. The moon hung over the settlement outside.

  For a few minutes, the world beyond that room narrowed to breath, warmth, and the quiet understanding that neither of them had ever truly wanted distance.

  The morning of the next day

  The squad woke early. The night chill still lingered in the air, and a thin, transparent quiet lay over the settlement. Smoke from morning fires rose in straight columns, and people moved unhurriedly, as if the city hadn’t fully woken yet.

  Rianes hadn’t returned to his comrades.

  At first, it was merely noted. Then concern set in.

  Skeld put a stop to it quickly.

  “I know where he is,” he said calmly. “Everything’s fine.”

  That was enough.

  They went out for breakfast. The food was simple but filling, and Skeld almost immediately began asking the Pale Ones about the engineer. The answers came without delay. The Suggestor who had arrived with them the day before was supposed to inform the engineer that they had come for him and that he should be ready today.

  “I’ll go to the Suggestor now,” one of the Pale Ones said. “And together we’ll bring your man.”

  As breakfast was drawing to a close, Rianes appeared.

  He came with Queen Valeria.

  The members of the squad watched them in silence. No smiles. No questions. Pretending nothing had happened.

  Everyone—except Skeld.

  “Valeria,” he drawled, “you’re kinder today than you were yesterday. Makes me remember what you used to be like. Young, naive, and not yet weighed down by power.”

  She didn’t even slow her pace.

  “Yes, Skeld,” she replied dryly. “Compliments were always your strong suit.”

  She glanced around.

  “I wanted to ask where that beast was, but I see—there he is.”

  “I love it when you call me that,” Skeld snorted.

  He waved a hand toward the exit.

  “Alright. He’s waiting out there, beyond the gates. Together with your unit commander. Looks like they’ve found some common ground.”

  At that very moment, one of the Pale Ones returned.

  “I can’t find the Suggestor,” he said. “Looks like he went to the river to gather some ingredients.”

  Valeria gave a brief nod.

  “Alright. Then come with me. We’ll collect your man ourselves.”

  She headed toward the second large building of the settlement. Rianes, Skeld, and Kesh followed her.

  They circled the structure and entered from the rear.

  “Where are you?” Valeria’s voice rang out sharply. “Come out, human. It’s time for you to leave. There’s been more than enough noise over you.”

  They stepped inside.

  The engineer was already packed and waiting. Calm, with the look of someone who had long understood that events were larger than himself.

  They greeted each other. No extra words. And immediately moved toward the exit.

  “What’ve you got in that flask?” Kesh asked, nodding toward the engineer’s belt.

  “Wine from the Pale Ones,” the man replied. “Leftover. Want some?”

  Kesh shook his head.

  They left the building and started toward the exit of the settlement.

  Ahead walked the engineer, Rianes, and Valeria.

  Behind them trailed Skeld and Kesh.

  After a few steps, Kesh stopped and quietly caught Skeld by the hand.

  He clearly wanted to say something.

  “What do you want?” Skeld muttered, not stopping.

  Kesh leaned closer, speaking low but sharp.

  “That’s not him.”

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  Skeld stopped.

  “What do you mean, not him?”

  “Not him, I’m telling you.” Kesh shot a glance ahead, at the engineer’s figure. “The Pale slipped us some half-dead nobody. The engineer always said he doesn’t drink wine. Ever. Only hard liquor. And this one’s carrying a flask of wine.”

  He clenched his teeth.

  “And the worst part: it looks like none of them ever realized that I was the one who brought the engineer to them.”

  Skeld exhaled slowly.

  “Valeria wouldn’t lie to us. Rianes told her it was you who brought him. She wouldn’t be putting on this act now.”

  He gave a short nod.

  “We’ll clear it up. Right now.”

  Skeld called out,

  “Valeria!”

  She had already moved several meters ahead with the others and turned back reluctantly.

  “What?” she said dryly. “Decide to apologize for something?”

  “Ri,” Skeld jerked his head toward Rianes. “Go on ahead with the engineer. We’ll catch up.”

  Rianes said nothing. He only glanced briefly at Skeld, nodded, and continued forward with the engineer.

  Skeld turned back to the queen.

  “Kesh says this isn’t the man he handed over to you.”

  Valeria raised an eyebrow.

  “Oh, really?” There was no surprise in her voice. Only cold irony. “You know, we don’t exactly have many people from the city.”

  She paused for a moment.

  “Fine. Let’s go to Vanat. He’s the Suggestor you came with yesterday. We’ll ask him where the man Kesh handed over is.”

  Kesh shook his head.

  “I’ve never met this Vanat. I handed the engineer over to a farmer. We met more than once.”

  Skeld nodded.

  “Yes, Valeria. The point is, Vanat couldn’t have known that Kesh was the one who brought the engineer. Because they never met.”

  She fell silent for a moment.

  “Strange,” she said at last. “He told me otherwise.”

  She sighed.

  “Alright then. Let’s go to this farmer. Do you remember his name? Or at least what he looked like?”

  “I don’t know his name,” Kesh replied. “But his ears stuck out to the sides. A lot.”

  Valeria smiled faintly.

  “Ah. Then I know who you mean. He’s not a farmer. He’s a tanner. His workshop is nearby.”

  They turned between small houses and stepped onto a narrow street running along the trees. It was darker here, cooler. At the far end stood a building with several hides and furs hanging outside. Nearby was a drying rack that gave off a sharp, heavy stench.

  Skeld grimaced.

  “What a mess. Hides just lying on the ground. A carcass there, not even fully taken apart.”

  “Yes,” Kesh confirmed. “But he always looked neat. Always.”

  Skeld turned to the queen.

  “And where’s your guard? Yesterday, you had a whole escort.”

  Valeria shrugged.

  “That was a performance for you. I didn’t know who was causing all that noise.”

  She looked at him more closely.

  “My rule isn’t what it was under our… familiar predecessor.”

  Meanwhile, Kesh walked around the building. He peered inside through a crack, then knocked. The door was not locked.

  “Hey,” he called out. “Anyone alive in there?”

  There was no answer.

  Valeria and Skeld walked a few more steps side by side, talking, almost ignoring Kesh.

  “Only a small part of us comes from the old camp,” Valeria was saying, quieter now but confident. “And they don’t like remembering how things used to be.”

  She gestured toward the settlement.

  “Most of the others are people we found in different forests. Including the Dark One. We brought them here, gave them shelter, food, and protection. That’s why they’re grateful to me. And loyal.”

  She was about to add something else when a shout cut her off.

  “He’s dead!” Kesh’s voice was hoarse. “Dead, damn it. He was killed. And not long ago.”

  Valeria and Skeld broke into a run at the same time and rushed into the workshop.

  The tanner lay on his back near the table.

  His throat had been cut deep and clean.

  Clothes, hands, floor—everything was soaked in blood.

  This wasn’t a panicked attack.

  It was an execution.

  Valeria turned away sharply. Her body twisted, and she ran outside, pressing a hand to her mouth.

  “Go to her,” Skeld snapped at Kesh. “Stay with her. And make sure no one else sees this.”

  Kesh bolted after her at once.

  Skeld stayed inside.

  He scanned the room quickly but carefully. The door was open. No signs of forced entry. Another chair stood by the table, upright. The knife was gone.

  On the table were two mugs.

  The picture snapped into place immediately.

  The killer had stood behind him.

  The victim knew them.

  Let them in.

  Offered water. Or wine.

  The murder happened yesterday.

  And yesterday was also when Vanat stopped being seen.

  There weren’t many possibilities.

  But the most likely one was the worst.

  And right now, walking beside Rianes, was a man pretending to be the engineer.

  Skeld stepped outside sharply. Valeria was already pulling herself together, leaning against the wall.

  “We need to detain that engineer immediately,” he said without preamble. “And find Vanat. Start with his home.”

  Valeria snapped into motion at once. She sharply waved to the nearest guard.

  “Run. Now. Tell Rianes: the engineer is not who he claims to be. Detain him, but do not kill him.”

  The guard didn’t ask questions. He bolted.

  “Our people won’t be able to detain Vanat,” Valeria said quietly. “Against a Suggestor, they’re useless.”

  Skeld clenched his jaw.

  “Fine. I’ll do it myself. Where does he live?”

  Valeria shouted sharply,

  “This way!”

  She was already running ahead, between the houses. Skeld followed.

  The settlement didn’t yet know it had crossed a line.

  But someone had already started a game where there would be no second chances.

  After running a few dozen meters through the buildings, Valeria stopped abruptly.

  “This one.”

  Skeld was already drawing his short sword. Without hesitation, he kicked the door. The wood cracked, the lock tore free. He burst inside first.

  Empty.

  The room was small and poor. No signs of a struggle. Skeld checked corner after corner, the floor, the table, the bedding. Near the entrance stood a pair of slippers—simple, worn, clearly taken off not long ago.

  He picked them up.

  “Quick. Let’s get to Cross.”

  They ran back without looking around. The settlement hadn’t yet understood what had happened, but the air had already changed. A nervous stillness crept in—the kind that comes when people sense trouble before they hear about it.

  When they reached the squad, the engineer was already on the ground, bound, a gag stuffed in his mouth. His eyes darted wildly. He was trying to say something, but the words drowned in a muffled sound.

  “Where’s Cross?” Skeld snapped.

  “Out there, on the street,” Yahim answered, pointing.

  Cross was lying among the trees.

  Calm. Relaxed.

  A small Pale child was crawling over him—three years old at most. The child clutched his fur, laughing, babbling, as if this were not a dangerous beast, but a big, warm toy.

  Skeld rushed over—and froze for a moment.

  The child noticed him first. Panicked. She curled up, shielding Cross with her small body, and began to cry thinly, not letting Skeld come closer.

  The Pale commander saw the scene from about thirty meters away. He had been talking with his people and hadn’t noticed when the child approached the beast. He sprinted forward, scooped the child up, and quickly checked her over.

  “It’s fine,” he said, more to himself than to anyone else. “No injuries.”

  Cross didn’t even move.

  In his world, nothing important enough had just happened to distract him from studying the nearby tree and the sensations beneath his paws.

  The rest of the squad gathered around.

  Skeld stepped closer and held up the slippers.

  “Furball,” he said without ceremony. “We need to find the Suggestor you carried yesterday. Looks like he made a mess and ran. And he also swapped in another man instead of the engineer.”

  He held the slippers out.

  “This is his. Track him. And catch him alive, if you can.”

  Cross rose onto all fours instantly.

  He sniffed the slippers once. Then again. Deeper.

  Everything else vanished.

  “If you find him and take him,” Rianes added, “we meet at the crossroads where we left the horses. Don’t play hero. Run.”

  Cross didn’t answer.

  He simply launched forward and vanished between the trees, as if the forest itself had opened a path for him.

  And now he had only one direction. Forward.

  Valeria hadn’t fully recovered yet.

  She had barely shaken off the sight of the murdered tanner when she immediately saw the child near the beast. A creature her people didn’t just fear emotionally, but instinctively. A fear sewn into blood and memory.

  Her breathing faltered. She stopped, braced a hand against a tree, trying not to look that way.

  Rianes stepped closer. No words. He just stood beside her so she could feel it.

  “Calm down,” he said quietly. “We’ll figure something out.”

  She exhaled slowly.

  “If Vanat is a traitor,” she said at last, “he could give away our location. Everything.”

  She looked up at Rianes.

  “Most likely, he fled into the Black Forest.”

  “It’s three days’ travel,” Rianes replied calmly. “If he left last night, Cross will catch him.”

  Feren, who had been listening in silence until now, stepped forward.

  “Who is this Vanat?” he asked. “How long has he been with you?”

  Valeria didn’t answer right away.

  “He joined us two years ago,” she said at last. “A Suggestor among the Pale Ones is rare. And extremely valuable.”

  She clenched her fingers.

  “He used to hide in the Black Forest. And after the scavenger attack on the mine, he proposed that we unite with the Vishaps for protection.”

  “But you refused,” Rianes added.

  “Yes. We didn’t want to break the order we had built.” A flicker of doubt passed through her voice. “Perhaps that was a mistake.”

  Skeld narrowed his eyes.

  “Vishaps? I thought there were none left on our side of the pass.”

  Valeria nodded.

  “Vanat said some of them hid in the Black Forest when all the crossings froze. They’re still there.”

  Skeld exhaled slowly.

  “That forest holds too much.”

  “That’s exactly why we hid here,” Valeria replied quietly. “As far from it as possible.”

  For a few seconds, no one spoke.

  Somewhere deep in the forest, Cross had already vanished, and each of them understood that if he failed to catch up, the consequences would be far worse than a single murder.

  Rianes broke the silence first.

  “Let’s go. We’ll find out what the engineer knows.”

  That word — engineer — sounded like a verdict.

  They approached the bound impostor.

  He sat on the ground, back hunched, arms numb from the ropes. His eyes darted around, trying to latch onto a single face, but the gaze kept slipping and falling into emptiness.

  Skeld didn’t bother explaining anything.

  He struck him sharply across the face.

  The sound was dry and loud. The impostor’s head snapped to the side.

  “Quick,” Skeld said. “Who are you, and what are you doing here?”

  The impostor shrank, pulling his head into his shoulders.

  “I… I’m an engineer. An engineer from Zhuravnyk,” he blurted out, swallowing his words.

  Zhuravnyk was one of the settlements near the City of Angels, a place where, long after the Angels’ destruction, fragments of the past still clung to the land.

  “And how did you end up here?” Skeld asked coldly.

  “That… Pale,” the impostor swallowed. “He bought several kilos of glass from me. In exchange for curing me of Lugu sickness.”

  Skeld narrowed his eyes.

  “What? What sickness? You don’t look like a reject.”

  “I… I…” The impostor stumbled. “I only took Lugu for the first time recently.”

  His voice trembled.

  “I didn’t know it would be like this. I started turning into a Crossed.”

  Rianes tilted his head.

  “What, are you one of the Untouched?” he asked carefully. “One of those rich, self-absorbed ones who are immune to Suggestion?”

  “No!” the impostor almost shouted. “I’m not one of them. I just… I just never got sick my whole life.”

  Rianes smiled faintly, but there was no warmth in it.

  “You have impressive health,” he said. “If you lived that long without illness.”

  Feren stepped forward.

  “Wait. Where would an ordinary engineer get glass? And in such quantities?”

  The impostor exhaled, as if he’d been expecting the question.

  “From the City of Angels. There was a lot left after it was destroyed. I lived nearby. When I was young… I hid a lot of it. Later, I sold it off little by little.”

  They all fell silent.

  The story sounded too smooth.

  Too logical.

  Exactly the way the truth is supposed to sound.

  Or a very well-prepared half-truth.

  The silence was broken by Valeria.

  “And what did Vanat tell you?”

  The impostor looked up at her.

  “He said he would take me to the Pale Ones. That I would live there until someone came for me.”

  He added quickly,

  “Said they needed an engineer. And that in return they would cure me.”

  A pause.

  “He told me to wash. But not to shave. Said it would interfere with the treatment.”

  Rianes let out a short breath.

  “Alright.” He straightened. “You’re coming with us to Korosten. We’ll figure something out there.”

  The decision was made.

  They gathered quickly, said their farewells to Valeria and the Pale commander. No extra words. No ceremony. And set off back the way they had come.

  When the camp was behind them and the noise of the settlement faded, Yahim finally spoke.

  “I have a question,” he said, walking alongside them, eyes forward. “Even if everything is exactly as we think it is… why was Vanat bringing different people into the settlement?”

  No one answered right away.

  Skeld took a deep breath.

  “Private truths, you're better off not knowing. He said evenly.

  Yahim understood.

  And felt even more grateful to be returning home alive.