Book of Fates ✔

Before we leave

"Like solar radiation or toxic rains?" Anya frowned, the agitation tightening her stomach again. Even the forest breeze wasn't much help.

Naaek's expression clouded over. "From those too, no doubt, but that's not what you should be worried about. As I've said at the meeting, we don't know how our ancestors ensured the book's safety. The energy field these crystals create around your body," his chin inclined toward the belt, "will protect you from all kinds of bullets, arrows, poisoning gases..."

Anya swallowed hard as Naaek was ticking off on his fingers.

"...Unfortunately, the almandines are very wayward stones. They run down quickly and take long time to recharge. Use them wisely and only if there is no other option."

"And how do they recharge?" Anya asked, pushing her dismay away. Maybe, Daphne was right to argue about the earthling's involvement in the mission? The daitias had been at war, they knew how to handle a sword and, for sure, they knew how to use all these technologies. But Anya? Best she could probably do was to run away.

A sudden thought tickled at the back of Anya's mind. What if Daphne wants to send me back home not because she hates me—she practically has no real reasons to hate me, right?—but because she's trying to keep me safe?.. Or, not.

"The usual," Naaek said, "from the sunlight, earth power or wind energy. The almandines find the source themselves."

In the middle of the conversation, Klliss strolled through the doorway, irritated. He was carrying a backpack of the colors only Rill could find matching.

"Amarillis passed this along," Klliss grumbled and foisted the pack off on Anya. "And when you meet your girlfriend, please," he ran his freed hand through his hair, irk plain in his motion, "tell her that next time I'm not going to serve as her courier."

"Okay," Anya stared at the backpack in her hands, frustrated. "And where is she exactly?"

"Talking to her sister."

"Rill has a sister?"

Klliss ignored the question. He adjusted a pencil behind his ear, spun on his heel and walked off to the shelves. A moment later, he was already flipping through the pages of some notebook, his bearded face pensive.

Naaek chuckled at his colleague. "One last thing," he turned to Anya. "There are only four fomoires on Earth as far as we're informed, but don't underestimate our enemy."

He unfolded a piece of cloth lying on the table next to them, and Anya saw the gleam of a blue blade. "Is that... a dagger?" her throat convulsed.

"Its' a dirk, to be precise. Any human firearms and weapons are useless against the fomoires if they have healing crystals." Naaek paused, rubbing his creased forehead. "The cobalt zastri, on the other hand, is forged with sunklit dust. Nothing but time—long and painful—can mend the injury caused by it."

"But I... I've never held a dagger... a dirk... anything like that in my hands in my whole life!" Did Naaek really believe she might need this? "I have no clue how to use it!"

"You'll be amazed with the potential of your body once something threatens your life," Klliss drawled, leaning against the wall. His eyes narrowed as they met Anya's. "But you also should keep in mind that the fomoires rarely use weapons. They prefer more exquisite ways of handling their foes." A humorless laugh escaped him, "They speak. They manipulate. They make you fall for their lies, and then they use you against your own people."

Naaek glanced at Klliss, nodding. "Alas, that's quite true. If you face Leir or his ilk, Anya, do not ever listen to them," his eyes, too, settled heavily on her. "You can still change your mind, stay here."