The first thought that hit me the next morning was crystal clear: I had to do something about the heating in this cursed house. It was freezing.
Not just cold, but arctic. My breath hung in the air, my fingers felt like icicles, and the floor radiated a chill straight from the bowels of Siberia.
Was all of Belozersk trapped in eternal winter, or had I just landed in a particularly vindictive pocket of it?
If something like this happened in one of my castles, I'd immediately order the butler dead, Dorian said with a tone of righteous indignation.
"There's no butler here," I said grimly, a hint of frustration creeping into my voice.
There's always someone you can have executed if you really want to.
"That can wait. For now."
I sank onto the bed and pulled the blanket around me even tighter, though it offered little comfort. The cold was simply relentless. As I looked around, a shiver ran down my spine in surprise. In the corner of the room stood a figure.
"Ibrahim! You scared the hell out of me! Just standing there like a statue... Are you the reason it's so cold in here?"
Honestly, I'd never noticed ghosts giving off cold before. That always seemed like something made up for movies and TV. But with Ibrahim, I wasn't so sure. He really did seem like a special case.
"I don't know," he said.
Wrapping myself into a blanket burrito, I walked over to the window and reached out to touch the heater.
It was barely warm.
I had to figure out the heating situation or I'd freeze to death.
After washing up, I checked the time. It was nearly half past ten.
Alexey should be up by now.
Last night, we had planned to meet somewhere in the city and figure out how to handle Ibrahim's case, but just as I was about to head out, the phone rang, and I heard Alexey's cheerful voice on the line.
"Why don't you come over to my place? I've got a computer and a printer. We'll have some lunch, then head out. And you'll get to see how I live here in Belozersk."
It was a brilliant idea. I genuinely wanted to see how he had settled in here.
"Well thought, Your Highness. I'll grab my stuff and head out. It's so cold in here, I think I'll turn into a popsicle."
"Best we get you somewhere warm then. By the way, have you heard the news?"
"I just got up. Honestly, I don't keep up much with the news. What happened?"
"Do you remember that stash we swiped from Wig?"
"Yeah?"
"Remember Wick, his idiot lackey? That fool, the complete blockhead?"
"Of course, I remember. Alexey, you'd better speak quickly because I'm telling you, it's freezing here. I'm dying to get out of this cold."
"Okay, okay. Long story short. Last night, Wig ended up in the trauma ward. Can you believe it? Apparently, he tried to commit suicide!"
I paused, allowing myself a faint smile as I glanced at Ibrahim, who was trailing after me through the apartment like a persistent shadow. By now, I had pretty much accepted that he'd be clinging to me like bramble until we got that letter sent.
"Why are you so quiet? Did you hear what I just said?"
"I heard you the first time... He wanted to end his own life. Drug addicts, I tell you. And you were worried he might do something to us. Pft!"
"And here I thought I'd surprise you..." Alexey sighed with a hint of disappointment. "You're no fun sometimes, you know that?"
"I'm telling you for the third time. Only once I thaw out from this icy chamber will I be in a better mood. And here you are, pestering me with some nonsense about Wig. I can't feel my fingers anymore..."
"Sigh. I'll have a car sent for you right away."
"Your car is cozy, and you've got candies and everything, but that'll take too long. I'll just get a cab."
"Okay, fine. Here's the address..."
He recited his address, and I repeated it aloud, as it helped me commit it to memory more easily.
I called a taxi, then glanced at Ibrahim.
"By the way, I never really thanked you for last night."
As if he needs thanks, Dorian snorted dismissively. He should be grateful that he managed to help a living soul. Especially since you're about to do him a favor.
"Be nice for once. He did help us, after all."
He helped me demonstrate a party trick. Thanks to me, you've got plenty of advantages over ordinary people. We could've handled it ourselves in plenty of other ways.
"Still..."
"Thank you."
"No need to thank me," Ibrahim replied. "If it were up to me, I would've cut off all their legs so that blood would pour out in mighty streams, washing away the filth..."
"Okay, okay, I get the picture!" I raised my hand. "That's enough, Ibrahim, thank you. You've made your point."
I told you he's a psychopath! Dorian exclaimed. I just knew he was smiling. I like him more and more!
"Glad to hear it."
Still, thanking him was unnecessary. Get used to being served, my boy.
"He's not my servant. He's—" My phone rang.
I looked up at the ghost and waved dismissively.
"Come on, Ibrahim. The taxi's here."
*** Not far from the heart of Belozersk was a rather respectable neighborhood, the kind where affluent families had settled for generations.
Their wealth was reflected in the quiet streets, the peaceful atmosphere, and the buildings that stood taller than three stories.
Honestly, I wasn't too fond of the place. I felt like a stranger in a strange land, like I didn't really belong. Back in Moscow, I had lived in a completely different kind of area. And our friends, the ones we were visiting, didn't live in neighborhoods like this either.
Why are you turning your head like that? Dorian asked, noticing how I kept glancing around. You look like a sprinkler.
"It just feels... weird. There's so much space between the estates. It takes forever to get from one neighbor to the next."
That's only because you're not used to it, Dorian reassured me.
What did you expect, some cramped little suburb? I wouldn't want a ramshackle hut right next to my estate either.
"Never mind..." I said firmly, knocking on the door.
The butler at the Naryshkin estate carried himself with an air of importance, as if he possessed noble blood himself. Tall, dressed in an impeccable black tailcoat, a crisp white shirt, with a look of haughty detachment, he stood silently, observing me with a measured gaze.
"Why are you squinting like that?" I asked, breaking the silence as he continued to scrutinize me. "Is your eyesight poor?"
"He has perfect vision." Alexey chuckled, emerging out of nowhere behind the butler, and greeted me with a friendly smile. "Simon, this is Max Temnikov. He's my friend. I command you to admit him into this house at any hour of the day or night, whenever he arrives, understood? Even if I'm not here myself."
"As you command, Your Highness." The butler nodded with a solemn bow. "Admit him at any hour."
"You'll also make sure he's fed and see to his rest."
"Naturally." Simon nodded once more with unwavering deference.
"Now that that's settled, we'll be in my room. In the meantime, see to our luncheon," Alexey commanded, taking a step deeper into the house.
"I'll let you know when we're hungry."
Simon bowed several more times in respectful acknowledgment and then withdrew. Meanwhile, we ascended the staircase to the second floor, where Alexey's room was situated.
Now this, this is a place worthy of someone of your status! Dorian remarked. I suggest you find yourself something similar. I still don't understand why you settled for that pantry...
"I'd need a map just to get around this place. At least I won't get lost in my 'pantry'..."
Still, I was curious.
"Why do you need such a huge house?" I inquired.
"I don't know." Alexey shrugged. "It's just convenient."
"And what's so convenient about it?"
"Plenty of large rooms; you can settle comfortably wherever you like."
"Don't you worry you won't make it to the bathroom in time?"
Alexey laughed, thoroughly amused.
"You really are something else. Come on in."
At least his room was properly furnished, unlike mine. The walls were covered with posters of his favorite rock bands and naked girls, and the wallpaper showed a nighttime view of Moscow. He had several gaming consoles, a massive TV that took up nearly an entire wall, a computer, a printer, and a bunch of other mysterious gadgets. It all looked pretty neat. I liked it.
"What do you think?" Alexey asked, sinking into a chair in front of the TV.
"It's pretty cool..." I nodded in approval.
"The computer's at your disposal. If you need me, I'll be here, playing video games," Alexey said, then put on his headphones, grabbed the joystick, and lost interest in me.
I sank into the chair, powered up the computer, and beckoned Ibrahim closer.
"Alright, let's draft a letter to your Lena. I hope she'll believe you."
"May Allah judge," the ghost replied, his voice calm and detached.
That same eerie indifference always sent a chill down my spine.
Insane, Dorian muttered. And with that, we got to work.
It took us almost an hour of intense writing to compile everything. It was the first time I saw a genuine smile on Ibrahim's face.
So he was capable of emotion after all...
Once we were done, Alexey summoned Simon and carefully, step by step, explained in simple terms exactly what needed to be done.
He insisted the letter be sent by courier, with no trace of the sender's identity. We weren't particularly worried about anyone coming after us. At least, I wasn't. Alexey, on the other hand, seemed uneasy. Still, better safe than sorry.
"It's my turn to thank you, effendi," Ibrahim said to me after Simon had departed. "You kept your word, and I am ready to keep mine as well."
"Really, Ibrahim, there's no need for that. Just call me Max... Or Maxim, if you really feel like being polite..."
No, no. Let him speak, Dorian butted in, his tone bubbling with amusement. You don't often see a well mannered ghost who understands proper etiquette.
"No, from now on, I am your servant and you are my master. That's how it's supposed to be."
"Suit yourself..."
"What happened?" Alexey asked with a curious look.
"He's insisting I'm his master... He's calling me effendi," I sighed.
"Soon enough, you'll be a sultan, like in one of those Turkish soap operas. 'Yes, my lord. Would you like this, my lord? The hundred-and-fifth concubine is pregnant, my lord...' What's Alisa going to think?"
"You watch way too much TV, Alexey," I said, laughing. "Come on, order a taxi and make yourself a little bit useful. Let's hurry up. I don't want to miss curfew again. Who knows how this visit to our ghostly friend's lair will go?"
Chuckling, Alexey fetched Simon and told him to bring us the luncheon and order a taxi.
While waiting, we devoured large chunks of fried meat and a few pastries and washed it all down with juice. Adventuring on an empty stomach wasn't the best idea. We couldn't risk fainting due to hunger somewhere in the wilderness, could we? Also, we couldn't afford breaking curfew again. Roman said he wouldn't be as nice the next time.
Ibrahim's secret lair wasn't far. Not long after we left the city limits, the ghost signaled for us to ask the driver to stop, explaining that from this point on, we'd have to continue on foot.
We'd reached one of those remote edges of town, the kind few people ever dared to explore willingly. Even the taxi driver hesitated before leaving, casting uncertain glances around as if he wasn't sure we were in the right place.
Before bidding us farewell, he scrutinized our clothing with a careful eye, clearly wondering what we were doing here.
"Gentlemen, are you sure about this?" he finally asked as we were already stepping out of the car. "Is this your first time in the city?"
"Why do you ask?" Alexey inquired, raising an eyebrow.
"Well, two guys dressed like you in a place like this... You'd be better off in Tverskoy or somewhere a bit nicer. Around here, it's just forests and endless swamps. Deadly, cursed places. People say that ghosts or spirits or whatever you call them haunt these woods. Just wanted to give you a heads-up."
"Thanks for the warning, we'll keep it in mind," Alexey replied, closing the door behind him.
"Is he talking about you, by any chance?" I asked Ibrahim with a smirk.
He shot me a silent glance in reply and headed toward the forest, his steps steady and unhurried.
There was definitely something wrong with him. Besides, you know, missing half of his face...
We'd been walking for about ten minutes when Ibrahim suddenly broke the silence.
"You'll start seeing human skeletons soon. Just ignore them, effendi.
I brought them here back when I was still alive, to keep people from wandering too far. Not many ventured here to begin with, and ever since the skeletons started appearing, hardly anyone comes at all. Except the occasional lost wanderer."
One of us! A kindred spirit! Dorian laughed. We are lucky to have such a loyal servant. For once, you picked a good one.
"Alex, if you happen to spot a skeleton, don't panic," I said quietly.
"Ibrahim brought them here ages ago to keep curious folks away from his hideout."
"Human skeletons. Don't panic. Got it." Alexey nodded. "Just don't tell me where he's been getting them from, and we'll be fine. I really don't want to know."
"I don't wanna know either."
"I found them in the forest," Ibrahim said matter-of-factly. "They've piled up over the years. People get lost and die of exhaustion. If a bear doesn't get to them first. Skeletons don't care where they lie, after all.
They're useless in the woods, but here they serve a purpose."
A gift that keeps on giving! I like him more and more! Dorian exclaimed, his voice practically glowing with amusement. I'm going to enjoy spending time in his company.
Before long, a ramshackle hut emerged amidst the dense spruce thickets. I might not have noticed it at all if Ibrahim hadn't decisively headed straight for it.
"Careful. The entrance's booby-trapped," he warned. "There's a nail there; you need to lift it up, or the rune will activate."
"Alex, there's a nail sticking out above the hut's doorway; it has to be turned upward."
"Got it."
Alexey grasped the rusty nail and gave a firm tug, then pushed open the aged, timeworn door. It creaked loudly but swung open without resistance.
Inside, the air was thick with dust, cobwebs clung to every corner, and the hut exuded a humble, almost unassuming atmosphere.
"Hard to believe there are any treasures here," Alexey remarked bluntly, his tone dripping with skepticism.
"Move the wardrobe," Ibrahim instructed calmly. "There's a wooden hatch underneath. It leads down to the cellar. That's where I keep the stuff."
"Alex, lend me a hand."
"Okay."
Together, we pushed against the wardrobe, which proved unexpectedly heavy, as if it concealed a cast-iron cauldron full of bricks.
Beneath the piece of furniture, a hatch was revealed.
"In the wardrobe, there are candles and matches, effendi," my aide continued, eager to share his secrets.
I grabbed a candle and handed another to Alex to light our way down into the basement. Just in case, I wore a ring that served the same purpose. You never knew when something might knock the candle out of your hand. The ladder groaned under our weight, as if annoyed at being disturbed, but it held.
At the bottom, Alexey and I stood frozen, mouths agape in utter astonishment.
The cellar was surprisingly small, but every shelf lining the walls was crammed with an astonishing jumble of all manner of junk. There was scarcely anything you could imagine that wasn't stored here.
Colorful jars and bottles, slim and stout, large and small, broad and narrow, stood in chaotic abundance. Beyond their varied shapes and sizes, they also differed in hue. Hundreds of them, catering to every taste, from vivid green to murky purple and muddy brown.
Alongside the liquids, there were tiny pouches, fangs, teeth, claws...
All of it, undoubtedly, parts of monsters Ibrahim had carefully cut out during his time as a hunter.
"Impressive collection," I remarked.
"And quite stinky," Alexey added, pinching his nose with his fingers. "I think the stuff's gone bad..."
"Monster parts are used in potion-making as powders," Ibrahim explained casually. "That extends their shelf life. With the way I've preserved them, it hardly matters how long they've been sitting here. Same goes for the potions and elixirs. They don't have an expiration date."
"It looks like we'll have to make several trips," I said, gazing thoughtfully at the shelves. "There's no way we can carry everything in one go."
"We'll come every day if we need to, effendi. Whatever you desire."
"Good, good..."
I was practically bursting with curiosity. I couldn't help but wonder what all these mysterious potions were for.
"Can ghosts appear in Tenedom?" I asked Dorian.
They can, but transferring them takes a lot more energy. He paused, letting the weight of his words sink in. I have a feeling that before long, we won't be able to manage without an external energy conductor, like a magic crystal. And not one of those orange or pink ones either.
We'll need something much more powerful.
"Nothing's ever easy with you, is it?" I muttered, a half-smile tugging at my lips. "But I get it. We'll figure it out later."
"Let's get out of here already," Alexey begged. "It smells like a sewer in here."
"Oh, don't be a baby. Ibrahim, where are the artifacts?"
"Over there in the corner."
I shone my light on the spot where the ghost had indicated and saw a small box, roughly the size of a brick.
"Don't worry, it's not booby-trapped," Ibrahim assured me.
Gazing at the pale Alexey, who was on the verge of spewing his lunch all over me, I realized it would be wiser to examine our treasure upstairs.
"Let's get some fresh air," I said, slipping the box under my arm.
Back upstairs, we placed our loot carefully on the table, flanked it with the flickering candles, and opened it. Inside lay three distinct items: a delicate gold bracelet, a black glove, and a tiny, brilliantly yellow gemstone that shimmered with an inner fire.
"Three, just like he said," Alexey confirmed with a nod. "Your ghostly friend didn't deceive us."
I reached for the gemstone.
"A Spark," Ibrahim explained. "It's also known as the Alchemist's Comfort. If you ever doubt a potion, just put this in your mouth. No matter what you drink, you won't be poisoned."
I knew what it was. These stones were rare and highly coveted minerals, practically worshipped by alchemists. The Russian Empire had no shortage of rare earth deposits. But the Spark wasn't among them. It was mined exclusively in distant India, and nowhere else.
I set down the gemstone and picked up the bracelet next.
"A gift for a special order I completed," Ibrahim said. "The Golden Bracelet of Blindness. I had it crafted to my exact specifications. Incredibly useful when you need to temporarily blind a dangerous monster inside a Distortion."
I couldn't help but agree. It was a fantastic item. I'd definitely find a use for it.
And finally, the glove.
"The Glove of Weakness," Ibrahim said, his voice tinged with pride.
"It drains life energy."
Let him keep it. It's useless, Dorian said. I'll show you how to do that magic yourself. It's not hard, and you'll be able to pull it off soon. I just need a little more energy to walk you through the basics.
"Got it," I said with a nod. "In that case, I think I'll give it to Alexey." I set the glove aside.
"Are you just going to keep playing with artifacts, or are you finally going to let me in on what's going on? I was part of this too, remember?"
"Okay, okay," I said, grinning. "Here's the deal."