Book of Fates ✔

Peru

Leir was strolling down the crowded street, contented despite the weariness in his limbs. The fomoires had arrived in Peru before the daitias, and it meant only one thing.

We're a step closer to the book, Leir grinned to himself.

An endless torrent of people, bustling and shouting, enveloped him. From time to time, an enterprising businessman carrying huge bags pushed his way through the throng, rushing toward a potential buyer. Then, a group of stunned tourists flashed by, with their eyes as blank as that of a sheep, and their guide yelling in a loudspeaker.

What's that smell? Leir crinkled his nose, sniffing the air, nauseated. Burned meat?..

On the both sides of the street were stalls and kiosks, where the locals sold their crafts to naive travelers, asking trice as much money as any sane person would be willing to pay. Clothes, fake jewelries, souvenirs and...

Garr. Leir saw small, roasted animals suspiciously resembling guinea pigs displayed on one of the stands. What barbarians these humans are.

"What exactly are we doing here?" Charna's voice, drowning in market's hustle, suddenly reached Leir. She walked next to him, her contemptuous eyes darting from person to person.

One of the merchants jumped before her, trying to sell earrings, gesturing to explain how beautiful the fomorian would be with brand new yellow feathers fluttering against her cheeks.

Suppressing laughter bubbling up inside him, Leir watched Charna mumble something to shoo the merchant away. After it didn't help, she waved her middle finger at the annoying man, and strode off. As a reward, Charna got to learn several swear words.

"Enjoy the moment," Leir chuckled, whistling. "When, if not now, is the time we can see how futile all our worries and troubles are. Unfortunately, we never realize it before it's too late."

With unhuman swiftness, Leir filched a bracelet made of colored glass beads from another seller's bag, and presented it to Charna, smirking. She grimaced, looked down at the gift in his hand like it was a stinking fish. Yet, she took it, her scowl slowly transforming into a smile.

"I don't want to interrupt your incredible date," Alexander cleared his throat behind them, "but where are your friends? Tane and Nagal?"

Remembering of the rest of the world, Leir turned his head to look around. The boys were nowhere to be seen. The whirl of people made it impossible to find them. Leir cursed under his breath—wasting time searching for each other was the last thing he wanted now.

If the daitias find The Book of Fates first, I'm doomed to—

"There they are," Charna pointed at a stall in the distance, and chortled. "They stopped by to grab lunch. Literally."

Leir narrowed his eyes, peering at the faraway spot. True, there they were. Two grey figures roaming about the food counter. Tane was talking to a lovely girl wearing an apron, whispering in her ear like a naughty cat. The girl was listening, smiling, and blushing. Meanwhile, Nagal was busy—with a humorless expression, he was tossing the food off the counter right into his sport bag.

"Can I have a stolen chocolate bar, please?" Charna twittered as the three of them approached the thieves. "I prefer dark chocolate if you don't mind, Nag."

At the sight of new customers, the girl in the apron awoke from Tane's tales and hurried back to work. Nagal was forced to stop his illegal doings. He zipped his bag, glaring at the red-haired fomorian.

"You know she can be punished for the lack of products, right?" Leir glanced at the confused girl, then at Tane; he struggled to sound indifferent, but obviously failed.

Tane snorted, running his hand through his tousled hair. "So now you care about the others, Leir?"

"I don't." Or do I? "I just don't know since when easy-to-fool girls became your type."

"Since I was hungry."

"You could find some more presentable victim then," Leir scanned the crowd, his eyes lingered on a fat man hardly taller than the counter, but a thick purse hanging down his neck was impossible not to see. "And you could get some money, too."

"Is that so?" Tane clicked his tongue, following Leir's gaze. "And how was I supposed to distract him? That well-fed broker doesn't look like the one who can be interested in my compliments."

"I bet you'll charm anyone with your compliments."

"Enough loafing," Alexander groaned, standing between them. "I want this all over as soon as possible. I need to go home."

Anya's father poured a few coins into the girl's hands, took a corn on the cob and walked off, chewing.

"Remind me, why haven't we killed this Mr. Right in the antique store?" Nagal gritted his teeth, staring after Alexander.

Tane shrugged. "Leir said we needed him alive."

"We still do," Leir corrected.

"And it was so much fun watching you and that earthling," Tane grinned. "Arms and legs entangled, rolling over the floor, hitting each other with everything that got in your hands... Huh! I regret I haven't taken a couple pictures of you on my phone. That'd be something to blackmail you with, when—"

Nagal cast Tane a grave look. "Had you only tried, I'd have skinned your alive! Your charms don't work on me."

"Yes, they do."

"No, they don't!"

"Yes, they do. Admit it. Once, we were in..."

For the next hour Leir was sentenced to listen to his friends brawling. When Tane and Nagal spent time together, squabbling was their natural state, no way to reason them to stop or, at least, make them pretend to act civilized.

Yet, Leir knew the two fomoires would never harm each other. Beyond all these quarrels, they cherished each other, loved each other. Always took care of one another. Save yourselves, those who tried to hurt Tane—Nagal would actually skin you alive then!

Leir shivered. Making his way down the street, he wondered whether he had anyone he'd be willing to kill for. Yes, he had. But that person was far, far away...

...probably hating me right now.