Dorian spent half an hour trying to explain a theory from his world called "reverse rebirth and resurrection." He used concepts I wasn't familiar with, and I didn't fully understand how it all worked, but I got the gist of it.
According to him, Distortions contained sources of pure magical energy that saturated the monsters dwelling within them. It was exactly the kind he needed in his current state. With its aid, he believed he could eventually restore all his lost abilities. More importantly, he was convinced that once he had gathered enough of it, he could begin working toward being reborn in his original body, back in his own world.
The catch was that he needed a staggering amount of energy just to take the first steps.
Which meant he got to sit back while I did all the dirty work.
This was the essence of his plan, which he believed to be flawless in every respect. But I wasn't so sure. It was a complicated, troublesome affair, to say the least.
Getting rid of Dorian, who was lost in his own delusions, was a hopeless endeavor. He began bargaining, trying to persuade me of the many benefits of our partnership.
Another half hour passed, and it started to seem to me that this arrangement might actually be more advantageous for me than for him.
That was when I realized our conversation was going off track. He was a real piece of work!
In the end, we struck a deal that suited us both. I would help him, and in return, he'd continue to share his knowledge and offer me new insights as his powers grew.
It was more or less the same kind of relationship we'd had before.
The only difference was that I was now expected to focus on anything that might help Dorian gather energy, as long as it didn't get in the way of my other interests. In return, he was expected to help me grow stronger by any means necessary to maximize my efficiency.
Even though I knew full well that Dorian was a cunning man, I still hoped I had managed to hold my own. It felt like no one was trying to deceive anyone, and I was genuinely satisfied with how things stood.
I had a few ideas about what my future might look like, and it was clear I'd need the resources to bring them to life. Since I had no real plans to return home anytime soon, I'd need a lot of money to start a new life.
Why would I even go back? Nobody wanted me. Even on Parent's Day, no one came to see me, and I ended up sitting with the Naryshkins like some stray. I appreciated Alexey's invitation, of course, but still...
In short, the deal was struck. I'd put it in writing when the time came. Trusting Dorian felt like disrespecting myself. He could spin some story at any moment, insisting things weren't quite as they seemed. I knew him well enough not to take him at his word. He was a compulsive liar.
Once we sealed our agreement, I happily indulged in the little cake Hornborn had brought. Lacrimosa was an excellent baker. I had never tasted anything like it back home. Dorian claimed it was because she was a witch, and witches were naturally skilled with a mortar and pestle, given all the other activities their craft required.
It was a shame she still hadn't returned, and we didn't get to enjoy it together. I wanted to thank her for her kindness. It would have felt rude not to, but... Oh well. Maybe another time.
Before heading back to Kitezh, I casually leafed through The Book of a Thousand Places, just to see if anything new had appeared besides the page with Tenedom's name. But no — nothing.
It was probably still too early for us to begin the next stage of our journey through the dimensions.
Another reason I agreed to the deal with Dorian was simple curiosity. I genuinely wanted to see new places. What would they look like?
Where would we go?
Unfortunately, the book would only reveal new destinations once Dorian regained his strength, or perhaps once I became stronger. It was hard to say who the artifact considered its true master.
As soon as I got back to the school, I sank straight into sleep.
Conversations with Dorian were so dull they could lull anyone into a nap.
The guy was a real bore. His endless chatter could wear down even the most patient listener.
But I didn't sleep for long. For all I knew, I had barely rested before the voices woke me. So many of them, all at once, each one seeming to want something from me.
At first, I didn't want to open my eyes. I figured I had to be dreaming. There was no way so many voices could be echoing in my room at once. Where would they even come from? The most reasonable explanation my half-asleep brain offered was that I had overslept, and the dormitory prefects, along with my classmates and a few teachers, had all shown up to wake me...
Slowly, I opened my eyes and nearly fell out of bed.
My room was filled with ghosts. Little boys and girls, teenagers, elderly people... A real crowd. And quite a bizarre one at that. They all stared at me eagerly, as if expecting something from me.
"What the hell...?" I sat up on the bed and rubbed my eyes, trying to make sense of it all. "Am I dreaming?"
"He sees us!" cried out a semi-naked girl with excitement, flapping her arms wildly.
"He's awake," said a chubby man, holding his head under his armpit as if it were a hat. "I told you, just speak louder. When I was alive, that always did the trick."
"Finally, someone decent," added an elderly woman wearing a huge, goulash-like headpiece. "It's so hard being surrounded by fools. Looks like he wasn't lying after all..."
"I have to admit that I'm surprised," mused a man in a police uniform, missing the right side of his head. "Petka, of all people..."
"You should always trust people," the girl chimed in again.
"Young lady, don't say such foolish things," the chubby man retorted, scratching his nose while still holding his head under his armpit.
"Life hasn't taught you a thing, even in death. I've told you a hundred times, trust people only as a last resort. Is that clear, you simpleton?"
"Hold on, hold on... What did the policeman just say? Petka? Was I imagining it?" No, I was pretty sure he said Petka. Damn it. Was this my reward for helping out? A full delegation of ghosts?
Told you he'd bring us trouble... Dorian said. Maybe you'll listen to me next time.
"Alright, alright, pipe it down, all of you. You'll wake up the whole school with your hollering," I responded with a yawn.
"Good morning, young man," the old woman said warmly, gazing at me. "Did you sleep well?"
Nope. And things weren't going to end well if they kept going like this.
I needed to get back to sleep, or I'd wake up tomorrow with a pounding headache.
"Who are you, and what do you want?" I asked.
"I think he's a bit slow," the chubby man said.
"Petka the Whistle vouched for him," the policeman added. "Called him a promising young fellow. If he told the truth about one thing, he probably told the truth about the other. And he really can see us."
"So skinny..." the old woman muttered. "They probably don't feed the students properly here. He should eat more pies and treat himself to a bit of sour cream now and then. Ah, he reminds me of my little boy..."
"Shut up, all of you!" I snapped, my voice firm and steady. "My head already feels like it's about to explode. I'll ask one more time. Who are you? Either tell me what you want, or I'm going back to bed."
"Petka said that if you started threatening us like that, we could just threaten you back by keeping you awake and talking," the half-naked girl replied with an innocent smile.
Damn that fish-eyed freak! May he rot in hell! I lent him a hand and he blabbed everything about me to everyone!
"We're ghosts, can't you see?" the policeman asked, raising an eyebrow. "What kind of strange questions are these, Mr. Temnikov?"
"We want you to help us like you helped Petka," chimed in the chubby man. "You don't have anything better to do anyway, and we're in desperate need of your help."
Unbelievable. I was completely at a loss for words.
As the old saying went, "The road to Hell is paved with good intentions."
"What do you mean, 'I have nothing better to do'? I have classes to attend, you know!"
"Petka told us you're not a very busy person," the chubby man replied from beneath his mustache, speaking through his severed head while the rest of his body shrugged with practiced nonchalance. "And he wasn't entirely wrong. When we arrived, you were just lying in bed doing nothing."
"I was sleeping!" I snapped, a trace of impatience in my voice.
"Humans need sleep!"
"You were lounging," the policeman sneered dismissively. "When I joined the service, I hardly ever slept. A couple of minutes a day, at most!"
"He just needs to eat more sour cream," the old woman interjected softly. "Then he'd be fine..."
"Shut up! All of you!" I snapped. "If you so much as breathe too loudly, I won't lift a finger to help you!"
At that, a heavy silence settled over the room, and I heard footsteps echoing down the corridor. A moment later, someone knocked. Great. Just what I needed. The courtyard cats were already giving me strange looks, and now the neighbors would probably start complaining about how I talked to myself at night.
I wrapped myself in a blanket, climbed out of bed, and shuffled to the door.
"Yeah?" I said to the prefect, probably in the middle of his rounds when he heard me shouting.
"Why are you yelling like a madman?" he asked, leaning in to peer into the room. "You'll wake up the whole floor!"
"I had a terrible dream," I answered, not sure what else to say.
"About spiders. I can't stand them."
The prefect stayed for a little longer, but seeing nothing suspicious, he wished me good night and left.
"So, here's the plan," I told the ghosts after I got back into bed.
"Gather at the ruins. I'll come in the morning, and we'll sort this out. If you don't leave, I'll draw a cross on the door, lie down to sleep, and won't help anyone. I'll wear earplugs so I don't have to listen to you."
"Don't think you're safe during the day. We could start bothering you then too," the policeman warned.
"Then I'll wear earplugs all day long! Do I make myself clear?" I asked, giving them all a stern look.
They shuffled around a bit and started exchanging glances.
"We'll wait here until you wake up," suggested the chubby guy.
"Nope." I shook my head. "You'll make too much noise. There's no way I'll get any sleep with all of you here. Meet me in the ruins tomorrow morning, or forget about my help."
"You'd better come early," the policeman said. "I had a partner who thought 'morning' started around noon."
"I'll be there before breakfast. It starts at eight," I said.
They hesitated a moment longer before leaving, and I, still wrapped in the blanket, collapsed back onto the bed.
If he weren't already dead, I'd kill Petka all over again!
Got his revenge, sent out letters to his undead friends, and then crossed over to get away from me!
Oh, that sneaky...
I told you... I heard Dorian's voice through the drowsiness, but I fell asleep before he finished his sentence.
*** "Why are you so angry?" Alexey asked me as I was spreading butter on my bread at breakfast. "You hardly ate anything. Did something happen?"
"Yeah." I nodded, taking a sip of tea. "Petka's a blabbermouth. No surprise there. He sold me out."
"How so?" Alexey raised his eyebrows in surprise. "What did he do this time?"
"Well..."
I took my time recounting the evening adventure with the ghosts and explaining why I hadn't gotten a wink of sleep. Alexey didn't interrupt me, just listened quietly, only occasionally chuckling under his breath.
"I knew from the start that he was bad news," he said once I finished. "Now you're never going to shake off those ghosts."
"We'll see about that."
"Did you actually go to the ruins?"
"Of course. I promised I would, and I'm a man of my word."
"And? How did it go?" Alexey asked impatiently, genuinely interested in the story.
"I told them I simply can't help everyone at once. I don't have that much time. After all, I have classes and homework, and I can't spend all my days dealing with their problems. I've got my own life, too. I said I'd help them one at a time. If possible, of course."
"I bet they took that well," Alexey said and chuckled.
"They fought like a pack of wild dogs. If they were alive, they would have killed each other all over again."
"And how did you pick out the lucky winner?"
"They drew lots."
"Smart move." Alexey nodded approvingly. "Otherwise, you'd still be standing there. So, who was the fortunate one among that bunch?"
"The old lady who was trying to smother me with sour cream. I guess I'll have to lend her a hand."
"And what does she need?" Alexey asked curiously.
"She was trying to tell me," I replied, taking a bite of bread with butter, "but I didn't have the time to listen. We agreed to meet again tonight at the ruins. If you're interested, you can come along."
"Why not?" Alexey said with a grin. "I'm curious."
I paused for a moment, thinking.
"What I'm really considering is setting up something to help establish boundaries in my relationship with the ghosts. I need to find a way to keep them from hanging around so close and making noise, or I'm going to start hallucinating from lack of sleep."
"I honestly don't know what to tell you, Max," Alexey said after taking a sip of coffee, his brow furrowed. "Have you come up with any ideas yourself?"
"Yeah." I finished my tea and pushed the cup aside. "I need to rent an apartment in Belozersk. Just a place where I can meet with them somewhere other than my room. Or maybe even a single room, at least for now, while I try to untangle this mess."
"That's a good idea." Alexey nodded in agreement. "But I doubt any sane person would rent you an apartment."
"Why not? I've got money! I could rent a whole house if I wanted to," I argued.
"Money's one thing," he responded, "but you're still too young for that. Do you honestly think anyone in their right mind would rent an apartment to a twelve-year-old?"
"I'll be thirteen soon," I argued.
"Twelve, thirteen, same difference. You don't get a passport until fourteen, and even then, only with your parents' written permission."
I sighed. So much for the easy way out...
"And what kind of permission do they need?"
"A slip of paper saying that your parents are alright with you living alone. The youngest person I know that's renting is my classmate, but he's turning sixteen this November."
"That sucks... Hold on... You're fifteen, aren't you?"
"Yes... Why?" Alexey asked, his tone alarmed. "I have an apartment in Belozersk. I don't need another one."
"You have one, yes. But I don't. Why not rent an apartment for me and I'll give you the money for it?"
"And how do you imagine I do this without my old man finding out?"
"Just tell him the truth. Tell him I want to be independent without my parents knowing. I'll only spend the weekends there."
Alexey looked at me puzzled for a minute, and then scratched his head.
"I don't know... It's a bit risky. Though, he likes you... It might work..."
"Really?" Perking up, I shifted in my chair.
"I'm not happy about it, just so you know," Alexey muttered. "And you better not do anything illegal in that apartment. It's gonna be registered on my name, after all."
"Unless meeting with ghosts is an illegal activity..."
"One can never know with you," Alexey replied and finished his coffee. "I wouldn't be surprised if you burned the apartment down along with the building."
"Do you have so little faith in me?" I asked as Alexey pushed back his chair and headed out of the cafeteria.
I was just about to follow him when a burning sensation shot through my backside, like my ass had been set on fire.
I leapt to my feet much faster than I'd meant to and heard laughter.
Two tables down, Nikita and his crew were cackling like a pack of hyenas.
What the hell was that?
"What's the matter, Temnikov? Feeling hot?" he called out between bursts of laughter. "I knew you were a little brat! Even your parents didn't bother to visit you yesterday. Looks like you've finally worn them down, you snotty little punk!"
"Come on, Max," Alexey said, waving him off as he noticed my fists slowly clenching in frustration. "Just forget it. Don't waste your energy on him. He's trying to provoke you."
Forget it? No, that wasn't how I operated. That wasn't in my nature.
"You'd be better off keeping an eye on yourself," I said quietly to Nikita as I passed him and, without haste, made my way toward the exit.
As Alexey and I stepped into the corridor, we were suddenly startled by a strange sound, like someone tearing through thick paper. Really thick paper.
A moment later, we heard screams, and a stampede of students burst out of the cafeteria, shouting and nearly trampling us in their frantic rush.
"Wow!" Alexey exclaimed, wide-eyed. "Did you see that? I wonder what's going on in there..."
"Must be Nikita again," I said, glancing at him. "I think he's got some serious stomach trouble or something."