Готовый перевод История Королевы Эльфов / The story of the Elf Queen: 38. Новая цель агентов королевы эльфов

The new target of the elf queen's agents
* * *

At the inn, which was under Fjold's management, life went on in a relatively calm and measured way. The innkeeper was glad of that. He was especially pleased that the Confederate adventurers who had moved in for the winter were really no trouble at all. I mean, real troubles and problems, which he had seen enough of from fortune-seekers in his life. The occasional trips of the prettiest maids upstairs to “help with the cleaning” didn't count. Neither did the noisy table parties, where the older members of the squad generously shared tales of their exploits, to which both employees and other guests gathered to listen. These were not drunken brawls with stabbings, or even the use of battle magic, but a source of profit for his establishment. Since the adventurers spent more money treating the attendees during such feasts. Which meant more money would flow into the temple treasury. In general, most of the time, the wintering adventurers openly idled and rested, almost without leaving their rooms. Except that the squad leader and a couple of assistants were doing some business, slowly selling goods and inquiring about possible part-time jobs. The latter, however, were not available for adventurers within the city limits. It was understandable, because the order in Iyastar was very strict.

But upstairs, in the rooms where Fjold's guests were staying, there was no peace right now. Instead, there was a bustle of business. Some of the Secret Guard agents were quickly and concentratedly gathering their personal belongings. The other part was preparing to take over their colleagues' business and duties. Sitting at his desk in the corner of the room, Twilight watched without much enthusiasm the gathering of some of his subordinates who were being called back. Working with a small group was not the same as working with a full one. Especially in a place as challenging as Iyastar. Of course, he wasn't used to it, having worked alone on occasion. But it was better to have a specialist for every task and a couple of free agents on hand. Alas, the order from the Forest was clear and concise: about a third of Twilight's subordinates had to leave Iyastar and the lands of the Theocracy in general. Thankfully, the legend for the withdrawal was developed in advance in case of just such unforeseen situations.

Melody, sitting next to Darendil, dressed in her tight-fitting one-piece light gray suit, custom-made by artifact masters, was looking at the portraits of various humans and non-humans and their descriptions on the wall with an impenetrable expression. Some of the portraits were marked in red, as were their descriptions. Particularly the images of a young and pretty half-elf and a sturdily built tall northerner with copper hair. It's a shame she's being recalled as well. The help of one of the Secret Guard's most experienced agents would not be out of place, and Twilight was counting on her a lot. It was good that Luaval hadn't been recalled. As diplomatically as possible, Twilight asked:

"It must be very frustrating to be pulled off an assignment like that, right after being assigned to it?"

Melody broke away from studying the portraits and their descriptions, turned to him, and spoke in a calm and indifferent voice:

It's a frustrating, Twilight, to spend half a century in the harem of a human archmage, diligently pretending to be a passionate and skillful concubine, indulging all his whims and amusements in bed. And this is just an annoying little thing, not even worth noticing.

Darendil, who managed to hide his surprise at hearing the revelation, also diplomatically continued:

"I didn't suspect that you were the Shadow who infiltrated Raistar's harem, Melody. I thought that kind of operation wasn't exactly your specialty."

With a barely perceptible smile on the tips of her lips, the agentess replied in the same calmly indifferent voice:

"Shadows don't have a specific specialty, Twilight, don't you know that. A Shadow has to know everything to be able to start any task in any role and any composition."

The agentess turned again to the portraits hanging on the wall, but did not stop talking:

However, every Shadow can have preferences, both in the methods of execution of the assigned task and in the types of operations. Honey tasks had never been close to my heart, but as it happened, I was the only one who had a realistic chance of successfully infiltrating and working in the Dark Tower. The Forest realized the true extent of the danger from Reistar too late. There was no time left to select and grow a personal Honey Flower. I had to act.

Bowing his head slightly in respect and acknowledgement of his senior colleague, Darendil asked cautiously:

"I'm guessing that was a pretty challenging assignment? Well, they don't send Shadows on other missions, do they?"

Smiling faintly once again, Melody shook her head:

Getting into his harem was relatively easy. Reistar was a great admirer of female beauty, and at the time of my introduction, he had already gathered a lush bouquet. But there were no firstborn flowers in it yet, and he was more than happy to add me to his flower garden. It didn't have light-colored firstborn flowers, but dark ones already were. It was more difficult to keep my true nature hidden from him under the guise of a relatively young gifted girl who had overestimated her powers in her desire to know the world beyond the Forest. It was harder to hide it from the other concubines, with whom I had to compete for the position of favorite and influence over Raistar.

The agentess' face darkened for a brief moment, and she continued in a slightly colder voice:

"Getting into his harem was relatively easy. Reistar was a great admirer of female beauty, and at the time of my introduction, he had already gathered a lush bouquet. But there were no firstborn flowers in it yet, and he was more than happy to add me to his flower garden. It didn't have light-colored firstborn flowers, but dark ones already were. It was more difficult to keep my true nature hidden from him under the guise of a relatively young gifted girl who had overestimated her powers in her desire to know the world beyond the Forest. It was harder to hide it from the other concubines, with whom I had to compete for the position of favorite and influence over Raistar."

Pausing briefly, Melody sighed quietly and then continued:

"And as if that were not enough, Reistar quickly learned of our mutual dislike, and after that, he almost always invited us to his bed only as a pair. He liked to have concubines who didn't like each other fight and compete for his favor in bed. And at the same time, they had to please each other. Sometimes even without his participation, but just under his supervision. The annoying thing was that there was no way to get rid of her in the Dark Tower. At least not in a way that wouldn't reveal itself. Reistar kept all his concubines on a fairly short leash, not allowing any physical reprisals. So he had to put up with this witch and a host of other women."

"I've heard that he had other bedtime activities besides forcing his rivals to copulate,” Darendil said cautiously, on the one hand wanting to keep the conversation going and on the other not to cross the line.

Still, it wasn't every day one could talk to one of the most experienced agents about her missions. Especially one like getting into the harem of a powerful archmage.

"Oh, yes, and in many different ways. As one of the greatest masters of the School of Space and Transmigration, Reistar enjoyed using his knowledge and power to have fun with his concubines. He especially liked to open a tiny portal right in front of one or another of his mistresses' pussy. And without warning, he would shove a lady's savior into her. Often lubricated with some sort of love alchemy. It was usually a Lust Itch."

"It's... it's a rather unusual amusement. It takes a lot of skill."

"Indeed, in all my long life I have never met anyone capable of such amusement."

"Well, at least it was relatively harmless. Our dark brethren have far more violent and bloody bedtime activities."

"Of course. But believe me, the feeling of having a lady savior, sometimes of a very specific shape, thrust into you without warning is not the most pleasant. And that's just the beginning of the fun. A moment later, you feel a whole anthill of fire ants crawling into your pussy, stinging you from the inside. A moment later, your thighs are cramped with lust, and all you can think about is how you can get laid with someone else to relieve that itch. You want more than anything to take that lust away, with anything, as soon as possible, and the only thing at hand is usually the lady's savior you've had put in you. But it's smeared with alchemy, and the more you try to quench your lust with it, the worse it gets."

Out of the corner of his eye, Twilight noticed that not only he but also all his other subordinates were listening attentively to Melody. However, without taking a break from the tasks. That's what professionalism means! Bowing his head courteously once again, Darendil diplomatically suggested:

"I assume you always had a supply of neutralizing alchemy with you after the first few times?"

Melody shook her head slightly:

"Alchemy was not allowed for concubines, except for cosmetic work and only that which Reistar personally approved. He was very careful about that. So I had to do things differently. Mostly I saved myself by gritting my teeth, pulling out my lady's savior, running to the first maid or concubine I could find, and forcing her to kiss my pussy until the Lust Itch was completely gone."

"I can only assume that not all of them were happy about it."

"Of course. And that's why I kept the ladies' savior. Under the threat of its immediate use by me, all the women in the Dark Tower were showing miracles of mutual assistance. Though I must admit, some among them were willing to help me without any threat of the savior. Still, mortals have a taste for the beauty of the firstborn. And of course, Reistar considered it a specialty of his to do this to two rival concubines at the same time, when they were standing next to each other. And consequently would be forced to be rescued by each other as well."

"I can't even imagine how difficult that must have been for you."

"I've had worse assignments, believe me, Twilight. Besides, after I got pregnant and gave birth to Reistar's gifted son, the last of my allotted five, things got a little easier. Just a little. Those of his concubines who bore him gifted sons or daughters, he set them apart from the rest. He allowed them a few more liberties. In particular, the right to wear something other than shoes and jewelry in the lord's section of the Dark Tower. Never before in my long life had I been so glad to be able to wear underwear as I was then. After all, it saved me from Reistar's favorite game."

Melody's face darkened again for a moment, and she continued:

"But after my son was born, I had to take care of his upbringing. He was not a bad father, and he helped me a lot. And he valued our son and made him stand out from the mass of his offspring. I didn't approve of some of his methods, but I could do nothing about it. I praised the First Tree for not practicing excessive paternal love for his children, whether boys or girls. So I lived in the Dark Tower for half a century, competing with many other concubines for Reistar's attention and influence, sharing a bed with them, tutoring and training my son as best I could. And all this only to have Reistar's overblown ego at the decisive moment make it all go to waste."

The experienced agent's face became completely impassive, and she continued in a voice completely devoid of emotion:

"Now that's a frustrating thing, Twilight. And a revoke almost immediately after starting a mission is nothing. I'd rather consider the time spent in the vicinity of Iyastar a little rest before my next really serious assignment."

Darendil felt a chill run down his spine as he thought of his own half-blood daughter and Quatreon granddaughter. He knew the fate of all of Reistar's children very well. Bowing his head again, in recognition of Melody's services and sacrifices, Twilight spoke very politely:

"My condolences, Melody. There was no way to save your son?"

"From the curse of the Black Blood, sent by the Gods themselves? No. We could only prolong his agony by delaying the inevitable. I'm not insensitive enough to torture my son, even if he's not firstborn."

"Again my condolences....."

At half a word, Twilight was interrupted by the quiet melody of a cohesive amulet. Taking it in his hand, the squad leader squeezed it and mentally said:

//Listening.

\\“The news was indeed important and urgent, Scheff didn't let us down. The Inquisitorium has a demoness sealed in a human body in captivity. And she says she knows who took Arendal.”

"What?!"

Twilight involuntarily shouted the last phrase out loud, jumping to his feet. Everyone in the rooms turned to him, including Melody. Darendil made a short gesture to connect all his subordinates and Shadow into a single weave of communication and mentally ordered:

//Report...”

* * *

The dungeons of the Old City hadn't changed a bit in the past few days. The same desolation, the same ruin, the same musty, damp air. Noiselessly moving in the shadows, Luaval quickly reached the right place and looked around. Clear. Making sure all the amulets were working properly, the dark elf moved on. The call on the special amulet had come from the ratfolk unexpectedly and was of the highest category of urgency, which meant he had found something really important. He wanted to believe it because the dark elf had no pleasure in traveling through these tunnels. It was better to go to his native Underworld, at least there was more space there. And a homeland, after all.

As he turned the next corner, Luaval immediately noticed the fresh and barely recognizable tracks of the Skaven. And then the Skaven themselves hiding quite well in their pre-prepared rookeries. Not bad, the ratfolks were doing their best. But not enough against the First Hunter. Passing by the first pair of sentries, Luaval, unheard and unseen, reached the side tunnel, which was already covered by a trio of passerines and a web of signaling threads. It took a little longer to get past them. Eventually, the dark elf reached the cubbyhole where Scheff was sitting with a couple of assistants. The Skaven sat with their backs against the wall, tail to tail, and kept a close eye on both entrances to the cubbyhole. Leaning against the wall opposite them, Luaval extinguished his cloaking amulet and spoke in a husky voice:

"I didn't expect you to call me so soon, Scheff."

The three ratfolks twitched but did not jump up. He fluffed up his whiskers and held out his palm, where the two young ratfolks put a couple of silver coins in each hand, squinting at his guest. After putting the money away, he rose to his feet and looked at them with an instructive expression:

"Are you convinced? I told you, even though he doesn't have a tail, you can't cut off his whiskers!"

Turning to the guest frozen against the wall, the ratfolk spoke contentedly:

"Glad you got here so quickly, Cyrus! My tails and I heard something very interesting. It's a very hot whisper, but it's the kind of whisper that cools off very quickly. Which makes it very expensive."

A small purse of silver moved from hand to paw, and Luaval spoke:

"I'm listening to you very carefully, Scheff."

Ratfolk weighed the coins, appraised them, stowed them in his belt pouch, and began to report leisurely:

"You asked me to find out who might have stolen the eared diplomat, Cyrus..."

"And you found out who kidnapped him?" The dark elf stepped forward a little more interestedly.

"Not exactly. But I found out who claims to know who took the pointy-eared one. And it's not idle whisper, Cyrus, I can tell you that with my tail." that last sentence was clearly intended as a hint.

The dark elf drew out a purse twice the size of the first one and tossed it to the ratcatcher. The dark elf caught it on the fly, appreciated the pleasant weight, and put it away after the first.

"I'm listening to you very carefully, Scheff,” the dark elf said with pressure.

Grinning contentedly, the Skaven began to speak:

"The sun-lovers, their inquisitors, have a possessed woman in their cell. A demoness, not a weak one. They'd been catching her for several years, while she was having fun in the vicinity of Iyastar, and finally, old man Meyer managed to swaddle the demoness. The demoness was caught alive, an infernal whore, and sealed into the body of a young priestess. But they did not kill, the demoness managed to buy her life at the cost of several souls from among the seduced by her poor people. And since then, she has been locked up in the dungeons of the First Temple."

Pausing, Scheff took a few sips from his belt flask and continued:

"She had been sitting with them for quite a long time, almost six months, and just the other day, she said she knew who had stolen the long-eared one. And she offered the sun lovers a deal. They give her freedom, she gives them names. So now old man Meyer's friends are frantically trying to figure out whether or not to make a deal with her."

After a few seconds of silence, assessing what he had heard, Luaval slipped his hand back into his pocket and pulled out a small purse, smaller than the first. Throwing it to Scheff, the dark elf spoke slowly:

"That's a very interesting whisper, Scheff. Very interesting..."

The Skaven caught the small purse wiggled his mustache, opened it, and froze for a moment. Inside was gold, not silver. Luaval took one of the small stools in the room and sat down on it:

"Tell us everything your tails have heard....."

* * *

A tense meeting had been going on for several hours in one of the spacious offices of the Forest Secret Guard. At the wide table sat the Queen, Third, several of his aides, the Elder Enchantress, and some of the magicians involved in the investigation. A projection of a map of Iyastar and portraits of several humans and non-humans floated in the air in front of them. Two portraits in particular stood out. One was of a young, pretty, and blonde-haired girl, with the face of a typical northerner. The second portrait was of the same girl, only not being herself anymore. Yellow eyes with cross pupils, horns that had erupted, and pointed teeth. Sivila turned to Third, who had just finished reporting the information he had received from Iyastar, and asked:

"So, what are we gonna do?"

The head of the Secret Guard, as dry and emotionless as ever, said:

"There's only one way out. We need to get to that possessed woman. And as soon as possible. Master and his friends already know about her. There's no doubt about that. If he has dolls among the Daughters of the Reverend Mother, he must have dolls among the Inquisitorium. Which means they'll try to shut that thing up, one way or another. And given what we know about Master, my analysts think he has a chance of success."

Sitting next to the queen, Mirael inquired courteously:

"So how are we gonna get to this demoness?"

Third still replied just as nonchalantly:

"Two steps. First, we need to find her marionettes on the loose and use them to contact her."

Raising her eyebrows, the Elder Enchantress inquired:

"And how are we supposed to find them if they haven't even been found by agents of the Inquisitorium of the Sun-Face?"

Not the least bit embarrassed Third replied:

"It won't be easy but it is possible."

"And how's that?"

"By the method of exclusion,” answered Third, and began to explain.

"The main defense of her puppets was that they didn't know they existed. And even Meyer's friends wouldn't look for something that wasn't there. Most likely, the demoness had used a “Soul Swap”, or even made a full-fledged contract with one of the inhabitants. It's not easy to hide such a thing, especially in a temple or shrine of a celestial. In such places, the soul is as if in the palm of one's hand, and traces of Inferno will be straightforward to spot. Directly in Iyastar, where the light of the Lesser Sun is brightest, even just being there is not easy for such a puppet, plus there is a constant risk of being noticed. So her puppets were not in the city. But they couldn't be far from Iyastar either, or even the soul link would be broken, given the power of the First Temple's defenses. So they are in the outskirts of the city. Given the specifics of life in the Theocracy, with their regular general visits to temples and joint prayers, its puppets should be among those who can avoid such events, at least periodically, and not arouse suspicion. And there are not many such residents in the Theocracy. Which narrows the scope of the search considerably."

After assessing what she had heard, the Elder Enchantress nodded:

"Sounds quite logical and feasible. What's next?"

"Try to organize the summoning of this demoness," said Third without changing his face.

Almost everyone's ears perked up at what they heard, except the queen, who had expected such a thing. But the Elder Enchantress and some of the magic masters did not limit themselves to their ears and almost jumped up in their seats.

"Really? You do realize how dangerous the summoning of such demons is by itself! And the summoning-extracting from a sealed body is much more dangerous. For all parties."

"I realize that, but we don't have any other options. The creature wants freedom first, so we have to get it out. Besides, we don't have time for anything else. It could slip away from us at any moment. At best, the demoness will give the information to the sun worshippers, and it's unlikely we'll be able to convince them to share the information so easily. At worst, the Master and his friends will simply cut off that tail, one way or another."

"We have to consider that he may have already cut it off, in case they don't manage to negotiate with the demoness,” said Sivila, who had been silent until then.

"I doubt that,” replied Third, allowing himself a shadow of a smile.

"Since he hasn't cleaned up Tairel, which is a much more obvious trail, he's unlikely to touch his other associates in Iyastar. Especially since they're clearly up to something big soon."

"She in particular may be too important to them."

"Perhaps I can't rule that out either. But I still highly doubt that someone who secretly controlled and used Arendal and his subordinates is less valuable. More likely, it's a figure of prominence and importance. This means her disappearance from Iyastar will raise questions and draw attention. Especially considering the commotion caused by the demoness. Speaking of which."

Turning to a pair of assistants who sat nearby at a separate table and carefully leafed through an impressively sized book filled with calligraphic handwriting, detailed diagrams, and illustrations, Third asked:

"Did you find anything?"

One of the agents tore himself away from the book and reported:

"There are a few potential matches, but we can't pinpoint the creature caught by the sun-worshippers."

"Keep looking. A demoness this powerful couldn't have escaped our radar at least a couple of times. We're monitoring all Inferno activity to the best of our ability."

"Of course she is. But we could use more information about her, other than she's powerful and specializes in Lust."

"Your coworkers are working on it, as soon as there is more information you will be notified right away."

Turning back to the magic masters seated at the main table, Third continued:

"How quickly can we prepare the summoning ritual?"

"Here? In a couple of hours. But there's no way we could get her out of the Forest, even if we knew the demoness's full name and put a lot of effort into the summoning. The distance is too great, multiplied by the resistance of the seals and the defenses of the First Temple. In Iyastar and its environs, there's a much better chance of drawing her out, but the ritual will be much harder to perform because of the proximity to the Lesser Sun. In addition, I doubt your agents have the right specialists...."

"Prepare the ritual, calculate everything carefully, prepare a step-by-step guide, and my agents will take care of the rest."

"All right. Uh-huh. But we're gonna need..."

"Everything has already been requested, most of the materials are ready and the rest will be delivered soon."

" Great. Then..."

At that moment, Sivila intervened again, as she continued to stare at the portraits of the priestess and the possessed woman:

"What if she doesn't want to make a deal with us?"

Silence fell over the table, and everyone turned slowly to the queen. Mirael frowned and asked in a perplexed tone:

"What do you mean?"

"We assume that the demoness offered information about Arendal's kidnappers to the Inquisitors and that the Master has already contacted her. So she's already got two interested parties. And now she's adding us. If I know anything about demons, this thing's gonna try to bargain and sell its information for as much as it can. This means if we try to summon it without offering it something other than freedom, it'll try to horn in and raise the alarm instead of rushing to meet us."

There was silence in the room again. Then there was a muffled and doomed groan. Everyone knew exactly what the demons were interested in.

"And whose souls can we offer her?" Ziandar asked, very slowly and carefully, the question that no one wanted to voice.

"That's a problem,” Third said slowly, thinking about what he had heard.

"If she senses such interest, the demoness will definitely bargain and try to charge a higher price. So she wouldn't be satisfied with the souls of slave-peasants or branded convicts."

There was silence again. Everyone understood perfectly well what Third was leading up to. And no one liked it at all. And again the silence was broken by Sivila, who kept looking at the portraits:

"She won't be satisfied, there's no doubt about that. She'll want the soul of someone powerful, most likely more than one. Or a contract with someone powerful or influential. But that's not exactly what I meant."

Everyone turned to the queen again. This time with genuine interest.

"What did you mean by that?" The Elder Enchantress asked.

"What do demons value more than the souls of mortals and firstborn?"

Again there was silence, but this time it did not last long. Third was the first to guess, looking intently into the queen's eyes:

"Their lives."

"Exactly,” Sivila nodded.

"Demons value their lives most of all. Because as long as they are alive, as long as their existence is not cut off completely, no matter what wounds they have not inflicted, no matter how much strength and souls they have lost, they always have hope for a new exaltation. And so we do not need to offer her freedom and someone else's soul. It's enough to offer her freedom and her life. Or just her life."

"That is,” the Elder Enchantress said slowly, ”we must either snatch up the demoness, safely sealed in a specially prepared body, which is under very good guard in the First Temple, the heart of the Theocracy and the focus of the Sun-Face's powers...."

"Exactly,” Sivila nodded again with a nonchalant face.

"...or do we have to somehow get to her, still in the same casemates of the First Temple, and put a conditional knife to her throat?"

"It's exactly like that, Mirael."

There was silence over the table again. It was broken by a single laconic question:

"How?"

"That's what we have to decide. Even though we have very little time."

* * *

"They freaked out."

Twilight was in complete agreement with the way Luaval had briefly summarized the new orders and instructions he had received from the Forest. He could have added much of his own to that summary. But instead, he asked laconically:

"What are we gonna do?"

The dark elf sitting in the chair next to him shrugged philosophically and said:

"We're going to cut the dragon's tail piece by piece. First, we need to find out who told the demoness that Arendal is a prisoner. I agree with Third's analysis. They're not far away, and we need to look for them among those who don't often attend prayers where their fucked-up souls can be seen. I'll take care of that."

"And where will you look for them?" Darendil asked with interest.

"Who said I was going to look for them?" Luaval grinned, answering the question with a question.

"What do you mean?" Twilight frowned.

"If I understand anything about the Inquisitorium and its aged Archilictor, they're also looking very hard right now for puppets of their demonic guest. They'll be looking for them. And I will keep an eye on them. I don't see any other options, as I have no idea who and where to look for from the locals. But they have a pretty good idea who and where to check."

"Interesting idea,” Darendil said, ”But very risky. There will likely be several squads searching. And you might miss our target."

"There is such a risk. There will indeed be several search parties. But the Inquisitorium's trackers aren't a strike force of exorcists. Their job is to find the target, but others will take it. And considering who's in their custody, Meyer will send the best to take the demoness's puppets. That's who I'll be keeping an eye on."

"Not the worst plan,” Twilight assessed.

"The only one I have. If you have any better suggestions, I'd love to hear them."

Grinning crookedly, Darendil shook his head:

"No. Are you gonna need help?"

"It wouldn't hurt."

"I can allocate two, no more."

"That's enough."

After finishing talking to Luaval, Twilight mentally contacted Sunset. The mage-mentalist answered almost immediately:

//Listening.

//“ Sunset, can you prepare the ritual circle of demon summoning? The suggested power level is the fourth circle of Inferno. The maximum is the fifth circle. The diagram and instructions will be sent from the Forest.”

Sunset, sitting in a comfortable chair in the next room, sighed silently. Beside him, sitting on the bed in a shirt and no pants, one of the young men who worked at the inn, staring into nothing, was masturbating monotonously. A string of saliva flowed from his ajar mouth, and in his primitive mind, he saw one of the squad she-wolves that was now riding him. And was, on the whole, come to think of it, quite fuckable, as his friends said, in appearance. You were complaining about the boring routine? Tired of working with the simple minds of ordinary mortal Humans? Well, here's a non-trivial and very dangerous assignment. And it's not even in your line of work. Of course, Sunset didn't say any of this to his commander over the mental link. He only replied laconically:

//I can.

// Nice.

At that very moment, the boy-employee, unchanged in face cum into the palm of his hand. Sunset mentally forced him to clean himself up and began to check and consolidate the compulsions in his head.

* * *

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