Although he knew he couldn't escape anything in his life—especially not himself—on Athos's back, the escape felt real: the warmth of the sun on his skin, the mixed scent of dewy grass and newly born hyacinth flowers in the Ruvimi Valley, the power of the wind pushing against Athos's muscular body and relentlessly trying to slow him down, while his mane danced with effortless grace to the rhythm of freedom.

  A shabby house by the Ibry Creek; a grumpy old Lerney cursing them for the millionth time as they galloped mightily, dampening her freshly dried laundry, even though they could have got around it. But then they wouldn't cool off with the icy water of Ibry which was splashing them, nor would Leon enjoy the mischievous smile of Lerney's daughter Fabiana, who would gaze at him sweetly.

  Shortly after, they entered the town and made their way through one of the wide streets to the floral Wrentus Square, adorned with a spacious bed of roses and shops, where locals always gathered.

  After tying up Athos, he made his way to a small, wooden shop window painted in dark green, in front of which several ladies waited restlessly, smiling and fidgeting as he came along.

  Writing above the door said: Coming out of Rafa's boutique guarantees there'll be no leak!

  "You're going to kill me, I know," Leon apologized.

  "This is the fourth time you've been late since the last full moon. Things seem to have changed overnight and you no longer need the money. In that case, I'm glad you came just to chat."

  "I'm sorry, Rafa! It won't happen again."

  "Someone who doesn't know you would pay for you dearly, but since I know you well, you'll be left empty-pocketed this time."

  Leon laughed out loud.

  "Come on, admit it to your old friend, you retook the three times longer route just to strut in front of the daughter of that snake Lerney?" Rafa asked. "How can you even ride through there every day? When I see that woman by chance, it's three days of bad luck. And you seem to be deliberately looking for the devil..."

  "Well, Rafa..." Leon raised his eyebrow mischievously.

  "You're incorrigible," he said laughingly, "but it suits your age."

  "How come it's so crowded? It's been long since we've had this much work."

  "Spring, my lad, spring. You know what women are like—the season completely fails if they don't walk around in a new pair of shoes... Come on now, these ladies' measurements won't be taken on their own," he winked knowingly.

  Rafa was known in Terrun as a top cobbler. He made almost indestructible leather shoes.

  He lived a very modest and secluded life, entirely devoted to the trade and shoe store, which he barely left, except when hunting for new hide, and he had almost no friends except Leon. As a strong, middle-aged man with distinctly blue eyes, he was highly desirable among women, who visited the store in significantly greater numbers.

  Knocking on the door, a striking brunette protruded her pretty face, slightly restlessly checking out the cobbler and his apprentice. "May I?"

  "I'm sorry, young lady, but we're not taking on any new customers at the moment."

  Rafa turned down new customers, sticking to a small, familiar circle of people.

  "Try at the old Luwin's place; he might have more time," he said politely.

  "I've already tried it and don't want to return there." She was curt and resolute.

  "I'm really sorry..."

  "I'll pay double!"

  "I'm afraid it can't double the time I have at my disposal..."

  "Triple!"

  "I don't mean to offend you, young lady, but I don't care how much you'll pay..."

  She stormed off furiously, slamming the door hard.

  "Why do you keep turning customers down? You could earn a lot more."

  Leon had always been confused by Rafa's modesty.

  "Then even more and more and so on indefinitely. Money is a damn thing, lad."

  "It wouldn't hurt me to be a little damned, Rafa."

  When he started working for him, there wasn't much work in the cobbler shop. He often didn't even understand why Rafa had taken him on as an apprentice, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't find a better answer than pity, given that his father and Rafa were good friends.

  "Today we were more diligent than ever," said Leon later that day, when even the sun had grown tired. "This morning, I thought we would never finish, I swear."

  "There's no such thing, my good boy, that you and I can't handle. Come on now, lock the door and help me clean up, then get out of here. You don't want to miss Lunary, do you?"

  Turning to the front door, Leon faced a man who was a head taller than him and at least twice as big. His shoulders were as broad as the door frame, narrow enough not to graze it. He stood upright, and in his dark eyes, confidence and conceit waged a fierce battle. When he spoke, it was the harshest voice Leon had ever heard.

  "Is it open?"

  "I'm sorry, sir, but we're just closing."

  Rafa, who until that point had been focused on sorting leather samples, with his back to the entrance, now also looked at the visitor with an unfathomable expression.

  "It's all right, Leon, let him in. You can go," he said curtly.

  "Are you sure? I still have plenty of time to help you. Sir, come and sit here; let me get what I need."

  The man swung his hand sharply, taking off his black cloak. Thick blonde hair, tied into a large braid, fell off his left shoulder and blended in with a thin linen tunic of the same color, tucked into black leather trousers. Across his chest, leather straps crisscrossed, and beneath them, a silver chain glinted briefly before vanishing again beneath the fabric.

  He sat on the green sofa, but to Leon, it didn't seem that he needed new shoes. His black boots appeared new and expensive. By now, he had already learned to distinguish excellent from poor-quality boots, and these were of top-notch craftsmanship.

  "Leon, I said you could go. I'll serve the gentleman myself; I believe I haven't forgotten your part of the job yet."

  With the tone in which he addressed him, Rafa made it clear that he was not leaving room for debate.

  "All right. See you in the morning, Rafa," Leon said.

  "Be careful tonight, and don't be late in the morning," he looked at him shrewdly.

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  "Me? No way!" Grinning, Leon left the workshop.

  The sun was already on the horizon, so the otherwise white stone facades were covered in shades of pink and orange.

  Soon, the full moon would rise in the sky, and Leon and Athos trotted carelessly, unconcerned about the remaining time until tonight's holiday.

  His stomach growled as they passed the Golden Pot, reminding him how little he'd eaten for breakfast. The rich aroma of fresh beef broth and pork ribs with potatoes seized all his senses. Suddenly, hunger overwhelmed him completely.

  He left Athos outside the entrance and looked for a place next to the farthest window on the right, where he preferred to sit: it was free.

  The table was the last in a row, providing a good view of the entire inn; from there, he could observe and eavesdrop imperceptibly as tipsy guests talked about things they would probably keep silent about or, at least, speak more quietly.

  "What can I get you, honey?" Addie, the brown-haired innkeeper, approached Leon sweetly.

  "What have you been cooking today, Addie? I thought I smelled your juicy pork ribs and potatoes..."

  "... and veal broth with rosemary," Addie continued proudly. "That's right."

  "Say no more. Bring me two portions."

  "Oh, darling, you must be starving. Did you and Rafa have a lot of work today?"

  "More than usual, but we were a good tandem. We managed to get everything done before dark. I didn't even get to think about lunch, and I overslept this morning, so I had a light breakfast."

  "Everything is still warm. I'll be right back."

  "Addie! And a pint of blackberry wine, please."

  The Golden Pot was unusually bright compared to other taverns in Terrun. Wooden beams protruded between the two large windows on each wall, and from the semi-vaulted ceiling, lined with densely packed reeds and separated by beams into three equal sections. On the right wall, near Leon's table, a fireplace slept.

  "Don't talk nonsense, Horrick. Stories about Thunderer are for little children..."

  "Nonsense, you say? Stories for little children? Then how do you explain the unheard-of storms of the last few nights? Dort, Henry, and Enoly's houses were destroyed by lightning. There hasn't been a storm in Terrun in decades!"

  "You mean two storms in the last two full moons? I don't see anything strange about a few lightning strikes once every thirty years."

  "Of course you don't because you're a fool. I'm telling you..."

  "Horrick, lower your tone! Not everyone is in the mood to listen to your poppycock." Leon didn't even notice when Addie came out of the kitchen and approached his table. "Here you go, darling."

  "Thank you, Addie."

  He was already dizzy with hunger. Veal broth with rosemary was still smoking.

  "Do you think this is nonsense, too? Is it possible that no one can see what this is all about? Is there no sensible person in all of Terrun?"

  "If there is, it certainly isn't you, Horrick. Now, lower your tone, I warn you for the last time. Otherwise, you will be thrown out of here like an old bucket."

  Even though he was two heads taller and three times bigger than Addie, Horrick fell silent. He knew that she never promised what she couldn't keep. He witnessed several times himself as she threw out men even bigger than him.

  The two men were speaking much quieter now, so Leon had to make an effort to hear what they were talking about, focusing simultaneously on their discussion and his veal broth, which was dripping down his chin.

  Here, in the Golden Pot, he had mastered lip-reading, whenever someone whose words he couldn't catch drew his attention.

  "I'm telling you, Kayle," Horrick continued in a whisper, "this is no coincidence. Old Enoly claims to have seen a huge shadow over Terrun after her house was struck by lightning."

  "By god, I didn't know that. Then it all makes sense..."

  "I knew there was still some brain left in that hot bald head..."

  "... because everyone knows that Enoly wouldn't see a black bear in broad daylight, all clapping in front of her, but she saw a shadow flying over Terrun in the middle of a midnight storm. Of course! Sorry to doubt you, Horrick. Please continue—this is getting more interesting."

  Kayle drank his dark beer from a large mug in cold blood and stared at his interlocutor as the foam clung to his long mustache like frost on blades of grass.

  Leon was sipping soup that had already gone cold. He pushed the plate aside and pounced on the meat and potatoes. It wasn't the first time he had listened to the discussions about the storms that have occurred recently, each time leaving considerable damage behind. Indeed, he doesn't remember that the sky was ever raging so harshly on Terrun, but the belief that a bestia was behind it, right here, in Terrun, was just as incredible.

  However, this story inflamed his imagination, tickled his stomach, and put him in a state of tension: he was sitting in spasm.

  The Golden Pot was emptier than usual at this time because of the night of Lunary. Old Joe was sitting at the bar, leaning on his upper arms, dead drunk, as he was every day, though.

  Will she be there tonight? Of course she will. Everyone's going to be there tonight. Maybe I better not go?

  "Can I put the plates away, darling? Are you done?"

  "Sure, and please," he quickly drank the wine from the jug, "pour another one, Addie."

  "Are you sure about that? You're going to be late for tonight's celebration. By the way, why aren't you there already, young man?"

  "I think I'll pass this time, Addie. I'm too tired..."

  "This time? Lunary doesn't happen every day, for god's sake! Where's your youth? Look at old Joe. Hey, Joe!"

  Turning his head, half asleep, the old man ranted and sullenly tried to figure out who was calling him.

  Horrick was still talking heartily about the storm clouds, while Kayle was tirelessly taunting, so much so that Leon could no longer tell if he was joking.

  "Hey, Joe, over here! Do you know what tonight is?" Addie shouted.

  "Oh, Addie, for god's sake! You scared me. You must be joking, is it getting dark already? I almost dozed off."

  Leon was trying to contain his laughter.

  "I'd better hurry. If I don't leave right now, I will be late", Joe muttered to himself, continuing to establish the facts. "Can I pay you tomorrow?"

  "Did I ask you if you could drink tomorrow?"

  "Oh, you grumpy turkey, no wonder you're still a spinster! Here..." He took out three forins and left them at the bar. "Luckily, it's Lunary tonight, and not even a witch like you can spoil it."

  Joe stormed out, slamming the door, but Addie managed to repay: "Get lost, you drunken fool! You see," she said to Leon, "even this senile, drunken mule doesn't want to miss this night. Although, he probably knows it's his last."

  "Addie," Leon laughed.

  "None of us, my pretty boy, should miss a single moment in life. Especially not those wonderful ones because we never know how many more we'll live to see. Life is too short to allow ourselves to be tired or listless. I'll get you another pitcher to shake you up a little. After that, you're headed straight for the Moon Lake. Do we understand each other? God knows how many girls are there tonight just because of you..."

  And yet, the only one I want to see...

  "You know what, Addie, you're right. Come on, hurry up with that wine; you don't want me to be late, do you?"

  "That's the spirit! Oh, you young people! What I wouldn't give to be nineteen again..."

  No one was left in the tavern but the tireless Horrick and poor Kayle, pale with distress.

  "The possibility that what you're saying is true equals the possibility of a lame man growing a leg."

  "You know, Kayle, sometimes I wonder how you don't wither away with all that skepticism. Can't you see? Strange things are happening. I can feel it in the air."

  "Hey, Addie, do you hear this? What did you put in this fool's drink, and where do you get that stuff anyway? I'm asking for an acquaintance..."

  "Even a fool would question these beliefs."

  "They'd question why they still listen to you. If the records from the empire are to be believed, legionnaires eradicated thunderers more than two centuries ago, right after the Great War. Even if what you're saying is true and there's a thunderer nearby, and I'd say it is, based on your unwavering beliefs," he said particularly sarcastically, "the last specimen of the species has long since rotted underground."

  "The only thing that's rotten here, Kayle, is your soul. I've seen more life in old Joe while he's sleeping at the bar. Hey, Addie, two more beers here."

  "I don't serve anymore. We're closing."

  "What? The night has yet to begin; you can't close now!"

  "I'll gladly ask for your permission when I account to you. Until then, drink what you have left and get lost; I have to go to the Ruvimi Valley. It's Lunary tonight, you fool!"

  In the Golden Pot, the light has almost vanished. Through the windows, the street was slowly losing its colors, and the details were disappearing in rough contours. This was usually the time when Addie lit the oil lamps, restoring the golden hues to the, by then, sooty pot, and the light revealed how ruddy everyone had become from her blackberry wine. Not tonight, though.

  Leon drank his second glass and then trotted down the road on Athos.

  Devil – Among both wizards and humans, there is a belief about a majestic humanoid bestia with crimson skin and a beastly face, a long fiery tail, and powerful limbs ending in poisonous black claws. It is believed that the devil is the most powerful, most dangerous creature that rules over the sun and jar, like no other; there are beliefs that it rules over all locuses. Many stories have been told about the devil and the horrors it creates, as well as various descriptions of its form and appearance. The existence of this creature is considered folklore and superstition for it has never been proven. Type: Unknown. Danger level: Unknown.

  Thunderer – Extinct, bird-like creature that could reach up to six feet long, with a wingspan of up to fifteen feet in adult males. They were typically dark brown, while females tended to be slightly lighter and smaller. They reached sexual maturity after the fifth year when their beaks acquired reddish hues, and would mate for life. Throughout their lifetime, females would usually lay only one egg. If one partner died, the other would die of grief. Thunderers generally didn't attack wizards, humans, herds, droves, or flocks in populated areas, but due to their strong connection to the locus of jar, their presence brought unprecedented storms and weather disasters, and they were actively hunted and killed because of that. Type: jarish. Danger level: perilious.