The Magical Key. Martie Florence
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sly Dwarf emerged from the throng, smiling ingratiatingly, his luxurious hauberk sparkled with rubies on the collar. He gave Andreas three greenish banknotes for a small round piece of silver and evidently became glad of the deal.
"You will need cloaks, it is rather cold at the other side," one more tradesman offered, dark coats hanging on a clothes-tree behind him, and he wore a garment of the same kind himself.
"Anyhow, we can hide our swords under them," Andreas took out another silver coin to pay, "people get nervous at the sight of weapon there."
Walking away from the shops and booths they threw their new dark-blue cloaks, loose and quite long outer clothing, over their shoulders.
"How do you earn a living?" she resumed to bate her curiosity.
"Travelling merchants eagerly hire Grey Knights as guardians," he replied, "and I get employed from time to time."
"As for me, I embroider tapestries, my granny taught me that fine skill."
They came up to a comparatively not very large bluish-white marble building at the arcade end. A broad staircase, thick high pillars supporting the moulded pediment above the open entrance.
A shady hall was dimly lit with an opalescent flare in the space under a high archway in the opposite wall, a slow whirl of soft light smoothly twinkling and flickering, not dazzling at all. Panoplied imperturbable guardsmen were standing still along the blue incrusted walls.
"Would you make a voluntary donation to the Ariadna municipality?" one knight inquired politely. A small lacquered table had a bronze tray with a mass of copper coins on it, Lynette and Andreas added some money to the heap, entered the archway and plunged into the portal hand in hand.
The shining flooded the air around them, they could see each other but neither walls nor floor slabs of that corridor. Within a few steps they found themselves in one more hall which looked like a vast grey basement. No decorations, no visible guard, observation video cameras in the corners and above an artless but neat stony staircase leading up to the exit. The lock clicked, the metal door got open in front of them, and they came out into an early evening street of another city.
Endless torrents of growling automobiles, gigantic houses drowning in a smog, a dingy sunset in the dirty sky. Puffs of dust and exhaust fumes made Lynette cough.
"We have to find an internet-cafe," Andreas also winced at the poisoned atmosphere.
"And quickly get away from here," she pulled her pink kerchief out of a pocket and tried to breathe through the fabric.
Two large black cars hurtled together, others had no time to stop and clashed against them grinding with crushed metal and scattering small glass bits of shattered windscreens. A jam blocked the traffic at once. Furious drivers started hooting and bawling arrogantly, immaculate expensive costumes and neckties but rude conceited physiognomies.
"Over there!" in a minute Andreas noticed wide brightly lit windows of a cafe. They came in and sat down to one computer in a row of tables, flat displays, chairs. Lynette hid her kerchief and began to type at the keyboard.
"El Dorado… Night clubs, gambling, shops," she commented the information on the screen, "they give this name to vulgar things."
"Let's look for legends," Andreas pressed some buttons, the display flickered, "they are much more trustworthy than any official system of notions."
"Yes, I see," Lynette examined the appearing text, "legends about Elves, Dwarfs, fairy lands… A-ha! That's it! They consider it to be abundant in gold, but unrealizable to discover."
"Maybe, Elves turned off the portal in time," Andreas surmised, "and greedy fellows could not get there."
"As that portal is closed," Lynette concluded, "there's no reason for us to stay here any longer."
Andreas left a banknote on the keyboard when standing up. A young sleek waiter, a clean white shirt and black perfectly creased trousers, picked the pay up nimbly.
They went out of the cafe and walked along the grey asphalt pavement of the dismal street. Flashy advertisements could hardly embellish the joyless bleak twilight.
Gripping at lapels of black jackets, jerking and tearing, two drunk battered men were awkwardly fighting under a red neon sign of a bar, their five or six brutal mates watching the scuffle with a guffaw.
Screams and rattling, shrill squealing music, shouts of scandals, howling of police sirens. Glum malevolent countenances, unfeeling indifferent people, fussing crowds seemed to take everything for granted. Darkness was falling quickly.
"Help me, please! I'm cold," a beggar, a middle-aged unshaven man trying to muffle himself up in a colourless threadbare suit, gave them a look of appeal, "I can recognize your kind hearts, help me!"
Lynette and Andreas took their cloaks off, gave them to the miserable man without any recompense and kept on walking.
"Thank you! Now I will not freeze to death at night!" the beggar brightened up and cried after them: "I wish you good luck, wherever you may roam!"
A short time later they reached the building with the secret basement. The door got shut as they came in, the lock clicked, and they went downstairs. Andreas put the two remaining banknotes onto the tray resembling the one at the other side but had paper money on it.
"No wonder that our ancestors emigrated from this nasty world…" Lynette murmured before entering the portal flare.
The city of Ariadna met them with the bright merry sunshine coming down from the clear blue sky. But the merchants and tradesmen were anxiously closing their shops, dismantling the booths, packing goods into sacks and baskets, rolling carpets up. Hurrying in all directions, detachments of soldiers supplemented the total muddle.
Lynette and Andreas returned to the yacht and saw Jim and Iven waiting for them at the gangboard, remaining outwardly imperturbable in contrast to alarmed sailors and merchants bustling near other ships confusedly.
"Trolls have been noticed near the city," the Elf explained the stir, "it's the rumour of the day."
"The monsters are hunting for me," Lynette was the first to come aboard, "we must sail away now, my presence can endanger these people."
They departed without delay and headed to the midday aquamarine expanse of the open sea, the surf rustle and crying gulls.
On looking back they saw the pursuers. A dozen of big boats made an appearance floating down the river through the city, hefty trolls swarming on the decks like dark shaggy spots, halberds in paws.
Hundreds of knights and soldiers lined up along the embankments, composed a kind of a phalanx, tight rows of shields bristled up with levelled lances, manifesting their eagerness to conduct a defence.
However the monsters didn't attack them, even hardly paid any attention to them, just passed by, intently chasing the prey ahead. Lubberly set sails made the boats careen, but the trolls took long oars. Barking something out rudely, the chieftain was urging the rowers forward. A gloating howl and gruff commands became heard when the hostile flotilla came out of the estuary and began to catch up with the yacht.
"They are going to grapple with us," Andreas checked whether his sword could be unsheathed easily. Standing beside him, Lynette tightened the belt of her scabbard. No shade of any fear but concentration in their eyes.
Jim dashed to open a larder hatch and took a not very large battle-axe out, the blade glinted with bluish steel.
"What shall you do with them?" Andreas slightly wondered when Iven, who had already put a quiver and a bow on his shoulder, hurriedly fetched three Elvish lanterns from the lower deck, in daylight they looked like big white convolute rosebuds in silver casings, small chains to carry or hang by.
"They can dispel all kinds of darkness," the Elf smiled a little enigmatically. Then he twirled one lantern by the chain like a sling and hurled it towards the enemies. It flew above the sea, burst in the air and scattered a sparkling golden mist above the two leading boats, a quiet crystal chime accompanied the flickering of that bright cloud.
"Elvish magic!!! It burns!!" the trolls screamed and dropped their oars rushing