Nadyn Bagout "Not fairy tales"

The lock beeped approvingly at the key-card signal. The door to her parents’ apartment hissed to the side, revealing a long narrow hallway.

Una stepped inside and winced: the mixed smell ofВ fried fish, baked goods, and cheap perfume hit her nose so hard it made her eyes water.

The girl walked lightly across the hallway, stopping on the threshold ofВ the living room on the left.

As she might expect, they were home.

Her father was sprawled out on the shabby brown couch, spreading his flabby body on the greasy cushions, staring at the projection on the holovisor. It was brand-new, the latest model, with gleaming blue sides and a clear picture, but the packaging tape had not been removed yet. It was just another show about some kind of outside intervention. It wasn’t interesting, though…

InВ the far corner, byВ the lacquered white truffle decorated with gold monograms and scrolls, her mother sat, enthusiastically sorting out another pile ofВ purchases that had been delivered. Countless vials, jars and tubes ofВ cosmetics piled up on the small tabletop like aВ fragrant pink mountain. Overlapping blouses and skirts, fur coats and kerchiefs, jackets and lace panties hung on the back ofВ aВ chair and on aВ movable coat rack. Against this motley mass the delicate, perhaps even haggard figure ofВ the golden-haired woman was almost invisible. At her feet and around her were also crowded bags and boxes: shoes, dishes, gadgets, and other В«funВ» junk from the TV store; with any luck aВ couple ofВ books might be found. And there are wrappers and ribbons, paper, cellophane, pieces ofВ fiber and foam, receipts and labels everywhere.

Una shook her head disapprovingly: how do they manage toВ litter everything so much inВ just aВ couple ofВ days?

«Mom, Dad, hi! You’re all sitting here like owls.»

Mammy turned around briskly on her brightly decorated perch – just like a bird, smiled exaggeratedly and waved her hand.

В«Hello, hello, hello!В» and then she stared inВ the mirror again.

The father muttered something under his breath, but didn’t even look at his daughter, continuing to fill his mouth with fish sticks from a deep bowl on his lap.

«You’re sitting there,» the girl continued without embarrassment, «and, by the way, it’s so beautiful outside Treboyn today, you don’t even need breathing apparatus,» she put the mask from hermosuit on the chest of drawers. «Oh, look at that, you can see…»

Behind the long window hole, she could see aВ wide strip ofВ pale blue sky about six miles toВ the east, just beyond the first cordon. The ribbon cut through the usual reddish-gray haze and wound all the way toВ the horizon, merging there with theВ sea.

Not aВ single head turned.

With aВ sigh, Una set toВ work, rolled out aВ holder from the pantry, hooked aВ huge acid-orange garbage bag onto it, and began toВ clean up. Crumpled packages and half-eaten pieces ofВ food poured into the orange belly.

The lock clicked again.

Through the corridor, without looking into the living room, her sister walked hurriedly, hiding inВ the kitchen.

Una frowned. Bending down, she picked up another cardboard box, tossed it into the bag, then suddenly froze inВ thought, glancing suspiciously at the kitchen door. Leaving her work for the moment, she went toВ look at Poly.

The older girl sat at the table hunched over, her blond hair hiding her bowed face. Thin, motherlike hands shook as she uncorked aВ jar.

«Hi! Poly, what are you…»

The girl didn’t finish: she came closer and immediately saw what her sister was holding. In the flat round container was a thick greenish-blue gel.

Without a second’s hesitation, Una snatched the jar from her trembling hands and carried it to the garbage bag.

«You won’t eat it again. Never again. We talked about this…»

The response was some kind of inhuman howl or moan. Poly clutched at her sister’s hair as she stepped into the living room.

Una tried toВ break free, turned around, and stumbled from another jolt. The can flew out ofВ her fingers and hit the wall, spilling its contents all over it. Her sister forgot about the offender, rushing toВ the spilled puddle. Instinctively stepping back, Una suddenly bumped into something and fell awkwardly, hit the back ofВ the holovisor.

The device wobbled on aВ thin leg and collapsed; the projector cone extinguished.

Moaning and rubbing her bruises, the girl rose toВ her feet.

Her father’s beastly roar shook the room.

A shiny bat of blond wood sank on Una’s head.

Her black hair soared, her skull crumpled under the impact and burst: bloody bits ofВ bone scattered inВ all directions.

The girl collapsed toВ the floor. Dead gray eyes stared up at the ceiling, glowing with dots ofВ diodes.

The man, no longer paying any attention toВ her, tossed the bat aside and fiddled with his holovisor. Straightening the base, he flicked the remote. AВ vague intermittent picture apparently satisfied him. Back at his rookery, the fat man plopped down on it again, froze, almost unblinking, stared at the screen.

Poly giggled against the wall, licking up the slime-like slurry. When she’d finished, she looked around the room with completely glassy eyes, stumbled over her sister’s body, and hiccupped.

The mother only turned around at her direct address, as if she had not heard the preceding noise.

В«Ma-a-a!В»

Staggering, the girl stood up and walked closer toВ the corpse. The mother came up too, fluttering her eyes incomprehensibly. Her aged mouth, with its bright lipstick smeared over it, formed into aВ mannishly surprisedВ В«OВ».

«Where… where we should put her now,» Poly hiccupped again, «lying here… I wanted to take her away… I earned it didn’t I?» she grinned crookedly. «Yes, I did»

«Well done, my daughter, well done,» the mother chirped like a sparrow. «I guess… I guess… I don’t know… Boo, tell me,» she turned to her husband.

He squinted, snorted, scratched his belly, smearing bits ofВ gray-pink brain matter all over his light-colored T-shirt, and waved it off briefly.

The mother sighed, turned away, chewed her lips, then noticed the orange stain.

«Here,» she pointed her finger at the bag, «there’ll be pickers today, really.»

Still swaying, Poly looked back and forth between her sister and the garbage bag, then she mumbled, swallowing the interfering saliva, and nodded.

When they lowered the holder, the two of them shoved the body upside down into the sack, and straightened it: they couldn’t even fit her legs in the bent position. After twisting them this way and that, they looked at each other, shrugged and tied the ties as they were, with a bow on the protruding ankles. Then they took the trash pack out into the corridor, the mother returned to her interrupted rummaging, and the daughter plopped down next to her father, also clinging to the hologram.

About an hour later, the front door opened.

InВ the outer gallery stood an austere woman inВ aВ dark gray jumpsuit. At her knees, like aВ service

dog, aВ compact robot-carrier was frozen.

The visitor’s gaze traveled over the huge orange bag. Small feet in high blue sneakers peeking out of its throat could not go unnoticed. The attendant blinked, raised an eyebrow, curled her lips, but almost immediately her face took on its former aloof expression.

The scanner inВ her hand beeped the report: В«90% organic substanceВ».

В«Biological garbage. Take it away,В» she commanded the robot. В«Furnace numberВ 6.В»

Pies

The brew inВ the cauldron bubbled and gurgled. Strangely dark steam rose upward and puffed across the ceiling, forming little manmade clouds. But these walls have seen more than that.

The old house, built ofВ gray rough-hewn stone, with oak beams inВ the ceilings and aВ dirty plank floor, did not give the impression ofВ aВ permanent dwelling at all. It was more like aВ cave, aВ burrow into which one had toВ crawl out ofВ necessity.

The tiny mica windows let almost no light through, and now, in the twilight, they looked like cracks in the walls. Weapons hung here and there – bows, axes, clubs, short spears, a couple of crappy swords – drew crooked shadows under the dancing candle lights. In the fuzzy glare the gray, shaggy coat by the door looked like a beast, clawing at the stonework for some reason.

Wolfe stirred the stew with a wooden spoon on a long carved handle, added herbs, stirred again, and sniffed. Yes, he thought, it’s ready.

He pulled a deep clay bowl out of a pile of dishes piled beside the stove – a black one with a red rune pattern, looked closely, spat on it, and wiped the cracked glaze with his shirt sleeve. Then he filled the plate to the brim with chunks of stew.

After extinguishing the overhead fire inВ the crooked stove, Wolfe set the bowl on the unexpectedly good-for-life striped wood table, sat down on aВ three-legged stool, and began toВ eat, occasionally burning and snorting.

AВ knock on the door made him raise his head.

В«Go ahead, come in,В» his voice sounded hoarser than usual. He craned his neck and coughed.

Two men entered the house: sheriff Hunter and his eldest son. The heir and his shift are dragging him everywhere. Wolfe smirked, baring strong white teeth.

В«Greetings, Mage-Commissar,В» the visitors bowed, not too flatteringly, though.

Wolfe only gave aВ brief nod inВ response.

«There’s a rumor going around,» the sheriff hesitated, «you know. We’d like to know if it’s true.»

«I don’t know what people are talking about,» the man muttered between spoonfuls of food. «Ask me straight out, Hunter, don’t be a pussy. I don’t like it.»

В«Ahem. Ahem. Mage-Commissar Wolfe, is it true that you destroyed two witches who were plaguing the surrounding villages?В» he swallowed and stared expectantly at his inhospitable host.

«Ha!» Wolfe smirked again, his face creased so that it looked like crumpled paper – his deep wrinkles had long been his companions, only his yellow eyes still looked young. «See for yourself,» he nodded to the far corner of the room, hidden by the shadows.

The sheriff went toВ the table, picked up the dirty candlestick with the lit candle, and stepped toward the place. Immediately he recoiled, unable toВ contain his trembling. His son suddenly turned strangely green, covered his mouth with his hands and, unsuccessfully struggling with gagging, jumped out into the street. AВ disgusting uterine sound was heard.

«Ugh, he ruined my bushes, the devil takes it,» magician cursed. «You’re taking him with you too soon for duty.»

«It’s all right,» Hunter said, «let him get used to it. We don’t live in the capital.»

He shined the light inВ the corner again, examining more carefully the two female corpses lying there, an old one and aВ very young one, brutally chopped up and mangled.

The sheriff shuddered with disgust, but toВ give him credit, he managed toВ hold himself together.

«So that’s all?!» there was more fear in the question than in reaction to what he saw. There was also hope.

В«Everything is over. Everything.В»

«And they won’t… well, they won’t… rise again?»

«No,» Wolfe squinted and lifted a bowl of leftover brew. «Here. Just the way it should be. Hearts and livers. I’ll eat it all and be done with it. Well, maybe I’ll have a tummy ache. Would you like a piece?»

Hunter almost twisted.

В«No. Thank you,В» he managed toВ squeeze out and spat the thick saliva that had accumulated: it smelled surprisingly good.

«Anyway, all you have to do is clean up. Burn the trash and bury it somewhere far away,» the magician waved his hand at the remnants of the bodies. «They won’t come up again, I give you my word.»

В«Thank you, Mage-Commissar, from our whole village and district. You have saved many lives with this.В»

«Yeah, yeah…» Wolfe ruminated again, taking a sip of gravy over the stew, he was no longer interested in the sheriff.

Hunter staggered for aВ while, then made up his mind.

«Uh… Wolfe, but how did you get them?»

The man reluctantly pulled himself away from his food and sighed.

«How? As it should be. Look,» he looked toward the door where a long-handled axe stood propped against the wall, under the cape, its ragged surface darkened against the sharp, glistening blade. «Locks? They messed up there, of course, notably. Like real spiders. But if you pull the right string…»

В«IВ see. And the evidence?В»

«And who needs them? Those mothers whose sons and daughters have been kidnapped by these monsters? They already know. And they got their retribution. However,» the mage gritted his teeth, «there is something. The Protector should have enough…»

The sheriff followed Wolfe’s gaze with his eyes.

On an antique dresser was a basket full of pies. Some of the cakes were broken, and he could make out the gruesome stuffing – the baby’s severed fingers. Nearby lay a tattered cotton cap, scarlet as the dawn.

Orange

«We’re screwed,» Gafarro lowered the spyglass and shook his head hopelessly.

Down below the castle walls, it was quiet now: his army had managed toВ beat off two attacks with almost no casualties. The attackers had not yet been able toВ get within aВ hundred yards ofВ the moat surrounding the citadel, and each time they retreated. Now they were preparing toВ lay out one last trump card. And whatВ one!

«No, sorcerer, not even you can handle it,» he glanced sadly at his advisor, who was looking around. «My kingdom will not stand. Where did they find him from? I thought they’d all been wiped out long ago, and here we are.»

The old mage didn’t seem to pay any attention to his words. He was staring intently and tirelessly into the horizon, where a new gray wave was beginning to creep on: the duke was determined to make another run. The enemy infantry, though badly shabby during the previous few days, was still astonishingly plentiful.

But that wasn’t too frightening: Krumland recruited his warriors from the rabble, with no regard for their strength or skill, as long as they could move forward and hold their weapons, and Barbeza’s potion would give them courage and spite. What a bitch! The witch really went over to the enemy. She must have brought that monster. Ugh!

Dorrenoi averted his eyes from the little flashes that ripped through the grayness ofВ the dense morning fog. DamnВ you!

В«IВ would not fall into despair, Your Majesty. There is always aВ way toВ fight.В»

«But it’s a dragon!» Gafarro couldn’t hide his horror. «A stone-skinned, fire-breathing creature. What soldier could resist the flames, eh? The horses are snoring, you hear them? They smell that foul stench… Thank goodness it’s not flying.»