I did my best to stay out of trouble in the days leading up to Saturday. I couldn't afford to let Konstantin down a second time.
When Saturday finally came, Alexey and I headed to Belozersk early in the morning. We had a full day ahead of us and a lot to get done.
First, we met up with Konstantin, who wasted no time on small talk and led us straight to a neighborhood called Morok. This unusual district lay beyond the Old Square and the surrounding historic quarter, near the edge of the city. Most of the buildings were ancient, some decorated with intricate patterns on their walls. It was a beautiful area.
This was also where Black Ivy was located, the academy for monster hunters, according to Alexey. Their building looked especially cool, almost like a small fortress keeping watch over the city's outskirts.
I'd love to visit if I got the chance, just to see how everything worked. Judging by the muffled howling coming from behind the walls, they probably keep all sorts of monsters here.
And I liked the students' uniforms. I saw a few of them walking around the neighborhood. They looked like hunters in leather armor while we resembled a funeral procession in our black pants and jackets.
Morok itself looked like it had been simply plopped into Belozersk.
Everything here felt a little strange. Shops, taverns, inns — all with unusual facades and curious names that made you want to explore. Places like Gadyukin's Poisons, Magical Rings and Amulets, the tavern Distortion, and an inn called Mercenary's Rest.
I wandered through the district with my mouth hanging open in amazement, eager to step into every shop and see what they were selling.
Even Dorian took an interest and said we should come back for a leisurely visit to explore the local assortment. Naturally, he voiced his doubts about finding anything truly worthwhile, but that was typical of Dorian. I wouldn't have been surprised if, once we visited, he claimed that in his world, even beggars disdained such artifacts.
We sold our loot at a shop aptly named Crystal. Most of their wares were orange, pink, or red, coming in all sorts of sizes, shades, and levels of purity. There were a few blue ones, and even a single green crystal. The latter was quite small, about the size of a grape, but it probably cost as much as half the shop.
The place was run by the Naschokin family, an old name known for their Gift of eloquence and sharp trading instincts. While such a Gift couldn't be used to kill, it could certainly help you make a lot of money.
Foma, the shopkeeper, was a clever man with a voice like honey. He could read a shopping list and still have my full attention. From the very start, it was clear he wouldn't let anything slip past him.
"Does he have any other crystals besides green?" I asked Konstantin while Foma went behind the counter to check the quality of our crystal with Alexey.
"He does."
"Then why aren't they on display? I'd love to see a violet or a black one."
"Would you put your most prized possessions on display and tempt some thief into stealing them?"
"But you're saying he trades in them?" I pressed. "So he must have some around here..."
"They say the Naschokins have another little shop for special clients. That's where they deal with things like that," Konstantin said. "But that's a whole different price range. I've never even had a blue crystal, only red. And even that one was cracked..."
"Who knows?" I said. "Maybe I'll stumble across a rare crystal somewhere, someday."
"Stumble across one..." Konstantin shook his head. "You're going to get yourself killed one of these days, Temnikov."
Our conversation was cut short when Foma returned with our crystal, having valued it at four thousand nine hundred rubles. It was a bit less than what I'd gotten for my first one, but still a solid price. Half of that was mine. It was probably time I figured out what to do with the money, since it had just been sitting around.
Before we left, Foma wished us luck and said he'd be happy to see any of us back at his shop.
"Thanks for your help," Alexey said as we stepped outside. "Lunch is on us."
"Oh, come on, no need to make a fuss." Konstantin waved it off. "If you need anything, just ask. I'll help however I can."
"Do you happen to know where we can get an Underwater Breathing Potion?" I asked. "Alexey needs one. And there are so many shops around here."
"Why do you need it?" Konstantin asked, surprised.
"To go diving, of course. What else?" Alexey replied. "I'm going to Egypt with my dad this winter to see the coral reefs, so I want to practice."
"Ah, I see." Konstantin nodded. "In that case, head to Gadyukin's.
There's no one better around here. Sure, he charges an arm and a leg, but the quality is top-notch. You won't regret it."
"Thanks!" Alexey said again, and with that, we parted ways with Konstantin.
The Gadyukin shop didn't appeal to me at all. It was dark inside, and the smell was so strong it was almost overwhelming. I was used to dealing with such odorous substances, but Alexey nearly lost his breakfast there. He was standing with his mouth pressed into a thin line, pale as milk.
They charged us two hundred rubles for a couple of potions. I was still new to all this, so I wasn't sure if that was expensive or not. We had the money, but even so, maybe I should start making them myself. I actually kind of liked alchemy. Paying a hundred rubles every time we needed a potion would add up quickly.
After wrapping up everything in Morok, we headed to the largest real estate agency in Belozersk. To my relief, Alexey's father had already agreed to let him rent an apartment for me and even supported the idea.
Now I'd finally have a place to communicate with ghosts. I hoped that once I set clear ground rules, their wandering around Kitezh and all the distractions that came with it would finally come to an end.
I was looking for something affordable, not all the way out on the edge of town, but even with modest requirements, finding a decent place wasn't easy. Most of the good spots had already been snatched up by students eager to spend their weekends far from school.
Still, they managed to come up with three options, and without wasting any time, we went to check them out.
The first two didn't appeal to me at all. One apartment was far too big, with five rooms. What would I even do with all that space? And it was completely unfurnished, with paint peeling off the ceiling right before my eyes.
The second one was the opposite, far too small. Just three tiny rooms, each barely the size of a pantry. There was hardly any room to move. Breathing felt like a challenge. Had dwarves lived there or something?
I was already pretty disappointed, but then I saw the third apartment, and it actually looked pretty good.
It had a bathroom, a kitchen combined with a dining room, a wide hallway, and even one room set aside as a reception area for ghosts. It had been renovated recently so nothing was falling apart overhead. What else could I want for fifty rubles a month?
I walked around the apartment, smiling happily. For the first time in my life, I had my own place! Such a wonderful feeling. I could even stay overnight here if needed. I'd tell everyone I was visiting Alexey, but in reality, I'd be staying here. It was perfect!
"Maybe we should paint an ad on the door?" Alexey said after the estate agent stepped out to make a call, leaving us a moment to talk about the apartment.
"Why would we do that?"
"You want to meet ghosts here, right? So why not put up a sign to help them find you? Something like: The Final Rest. And underneath, write:
Maxim Temnikov, hereditary clairvoyant, now accepting clients."
"You're a funny guy, Alex," I said, smiling as he doubled over with laughter.
"Don't actually do it," he added, catching his breath and wiping his eyes. "I was just joking."
Was he, though? He hadn't sounded completely serious... but not completely unserious either. Then again, it might actually be kind of funny.
Just imagine Orlov's face. He'd probably call me into his office for another serious talk.
By the time Alexey signed all the papers and we finally finished, it was nearly five in the evening. We had spent the whole day on my affairs, so I thought it'd be right to treat Alexey to a nice meal at my expense in a good restaurant.
Finding such a place on Tverskoy Boulevard was easy enough. The real challenge was finding an available table. Everywhere I looked, places were fully booked. Were they having an all-you-can-eat-buffet in all restaurants?
Then again, this shouldn't have come as a surprise since it was Saturday and the weather was lovely. Everyone was taking advantage of the last warm days when you could still comfortably sit by the embankment. In a week or two, November would arrive, bringing the cold with it.
It wasn't until half past six that we finally found a free table on the terrace of an interesting place. Not the seafood restaurant Alexey had wanted, but a steakhouse. I was secretly glad. I couldn't stand fish. I honestly didn't understand how people could eat it. Gun to my head, I'd still push the plate away.
Anyway, we happily devoured steaks with French fries and washed it all down with cold tomato juice. Could there be a better way to end our little trip?
As we were nearly finished, Alexey suddenly looked around, turned bright red, and dropped his gaze to his plate.
Curious, I glanced toward the boulevard and immediately saw why.
Anastasia Dashkova was walking slowly along the cobblestone street with a friend in hand. Honestly, I thought the brunette was prettier than the fair-haired Anastasia, but to each their own.
"Why are you staring at that empty plate?" I asked, patting my full stomach. "Let's call the girls over and treat them to some cake."
"What girls?" Alexey asked.
"Come on, do you really think I'm blind?" I said, gesturing toward the cobblestone street. "Look, there's Anastasia. Should we invite her friend and her over?"
"I don't want to bother them..." Alexey hesitated. "They're out for a walk and stuff..."
"I'll be right back," I said, rising from the table.
"Wait! Where are you going?" Alexey tried to grab my sleeve, but I was already gone.
"Hi!" I greeted, extending my hand to Anastasia. "My name is Maxim Temnikov, and this is Alexey Naryshkin."
Both girls looked at me in surprise, then exchanged glances.
Anastasia smiled.
"Pleased to meet you, Maxim. I've heard about you. I'm Anastasia Dashkova, and this is Alisa Tsvetkova."
"Nice to meet you too. I've heard about you, too," I said. "Alex mentioned you'd been sick." I nodded toward Alexey, who stood by our table, looking pale and ready to faint. "Want some cake? We were just about to order."
The girls glanced at each other again and giggled for no particular reason.
"We'd be delighted to," Anastasia said. "We really shouldn't be eating sweets since we're on a diet but a small piece couldn't hurt..."
Soon, we were all sitting together at the table, drinking tea and eating cake. At first, everyone was a bit quiet, but the conversation gradually picked up. We talked about classes, then about teachers, and eventually burst out laughing over Nikita the Stinker and the smell that supposedly followed him wherever he went. After that, we just joked and laughed freely.
Honestly, I didn't catch everything they were saying, but I did pick up a few funny stories from their freshman year.
Around eight o'clock, we parted ways with the girls. A rock band was playing in the park that evening, and they wanted to catch the concert.
They had sort of invited us too, but it was vague enough that Alexey decided to hang back, wanting to appear relaxed and not too eager. We wished them a good time and promised to join them later if everything worked out.
"Girls are strange creatures," I said, watching them walk away.
"Why's that?" Alexey asked, a goofy smile on his face.
"They're always laughing and giggling... We don't do that all the time, do we?"
"Well, no," he replied, still looking at Anastasia and smiling. "That took balls, by the way. Inviting them to join us..."
"You're welcome. Anyway, you want another piece of cake? I'm still kinda hungry."
"Maybe we should head to the park now. What if we miss them later?"
"They'll be there for a while," I said. "And I saw chocolate cake with cherries on the menu... I really like cherries."
"All right, but be quick," Alexey agreed.
I turned to call the waiter, and just then, I noticed an unfamiliar guy heading toward our table.
He looked to be about ten years older than us, dressed in a denim suit, wearing a cap, and smoking a cigarette. There was a mischievous grin on his face. I didn't like him right away and wondered if he had mistaken us for someone else. I didn't recognize him, and he didn't seem like someone Alexey would hang out with.
He grabbed a free chair from a nearby table, dragged it over, and casually sprawled into it, exhaling thick clouds of smoke.
"How's it going, guys?" he asked with a grin. He was missing a few of his front teeth.
"And who do I have the honor of speaking to?" Alexey asked, his expression suddenly stern and serious. In an instant, he shifted from a shy teenager to the true heir of his family, casually wiping his mouth with a napkin.
The stranger burst out laughing, neighing like a horse.
"Who do I have the honor of speaking to?" He chuckled. "My, how courteous of you."
"And who are you, sir?" Alexey asked, his voice now sharper, edged with steel.
"Name's Lekha Wick," the guy said, tossing his cigarette stub onto the terrace floor and grinding it out with his dirty boot. "See, you don't know me, but I know you two. And I know one of you raided Wig's stash."
"What are you—" Wick pulled a small piece of paper from his pocket and tossed it onto the table.
"Here's my boss's number," he said, scratching his stomach.
"You've got five days to think it over. If you don't call, you'll regret it. And don't think we're too scared to come after you just because your mommies and daddies have deep pockets."
"What stash?" Alexey asked, placing his hand on the case with his energy sword. "Are you drunk, Mr. Wick?"
"You know what stash," Wick said, standing up from his chair. "My job is just to warn you."
"Tit for tat then. If I see you again, you'll be dead," I said, glaring at his brazen face. "Understand?"
"Pfft!" Wick snorted, waving his hand dismissively. "See you later, boys. Don't lose the number. I won't give it to you twice."
"Wig knows who opened his stash..." Alexey murmured after a moment of stunned silence. "We are so screwed... Max, what do we do?"
"Nothing," I said, taking the small piece of paper Wick left behind, tearing it into tiny pieces, and tossing them into an empty plate. "We'll have some cake, then head to the park. Just don't tell your dad anything for now.
We'll handle it ourselves."
"My dad?" Alexey asked, surprised. "Why would I even think about telling him that? Do you know what he'll do if he finds out about this? If he even believes it..."
"Why wouldn't he? If he really wanted to, he could check," I replied, waving to the waiter. "He could ask the police about the stash, and they'd tell him everything."
"Oh, Max... That damn ghost got us into a mess," Alexey muttered, shaking his head. "Petka the Whistle... We never should've trusted a guy with a name like that!"
"Don't worry, we'll manage."
"I doubt that," Alexey said, sighing. "We are so screwed..."
"Nah. We'll be fine."
"How can you be so sure?"
"Well, I warned Wick not to mess with us," I said.
"Anything else, gentlemen?" the waiter asked, giving us a curious look.
"Two pieces of chocolate cake with cherries," I said, winking at the serious Alexey. "Actually, no. Make that four pieces with extra cherries. It's been ages since I had chocolate cake!"