Читать онлайн полностью бесплатно Ви Корс - The Mist and the Lightning. Part I

The Mist and the Lightning. Part I

The English version of the first book in The Mist and the Lightning series. They are not offspring of Hell; they just lived nearby… Arel Chig is a fallen prince, the only one who dares to break the rules in a society separated by race, language and origin.

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Книга издана в 2020 году.

They are not offspring of Hell; they just lived nearby…


Arel Chig is a fallen prince, the only one who dares to break the rules in a society separated by race, language and origin. When he meets Nikto, a strange man of many secrets, Arel's life is going to change.


Part 1


Тhis story actually happened in a different reality (a different dimension, a parallel world); you can call it whatever you like, whatever you used to, whatever is convenient for you. Its essence will not change with that. All characters in the story exist and interact just like we exist and interact in our world. Only their names, the names of the gods, peoples and territories are not authentic; they just express the basic meaning the characters put into them.


>1 Nikto is translated as ‘Nobody’

>2 Orel is translated as ‘Eagle’

>3 Lis is translated as ‘Fox’

>4 Tolsty is translated as ‘Fat’


Chapter 1

The Encounter


"So, are you going to start talking at last?" Orel asked.

"Give me my dr… 'restorer', and I'll tell you everything!"

"Too many conditions, don't you think?"

"Really, it's the first time I see something like that." Tol shook his head. "He must be bonkers."

"I shit care if he's bonkers or not," Orel yelled, "he has to answer. Because we need it. And he will talk. What's your name, again?"

"Nikto."

"Right. We know it. Your real name?"

"I don't know! It is real!"

Orel, Lis, Enriki and Tol exchanged glances.

"Waste of time," Tol said. "We'll kill him but he won't talk."

"Shut up, you idiot," Orel growled.

"I think it is not our business at all…" Lis started cautiously.

"It is our business, Lis. Listen to me and don't interrupt," Orel made a pause. "Please."

"I need a restorer or I'll die," Nikto said.

"Yeah? Or maybe you'll finally go over the edge with the drug."

"No, I won't. I used 'black water' for two years, now I need just the plain one… but often. In my bag…"

"Huh? Two years of 'black water'? You're dead, man! Nobody quits 'black water', you're crazy!"

"That's why he hangs around with the Unclean," Enriki intervened. "That bitch, your girlfriend, she gives you this shit, right? You're a disgrace for humans!"

"I need a shot." Nikto's voice was barely audible.

"Fuck you. Die," Tol said. Orel glared at him. "Sorry, Arel," he hastened. "I just can't stand this piece of dirt."

Nikto awkwardly shook his shaggy head, trying to toss disobedient strands of hair away from his face and look at the people standing over him but it didn't work. In the beginning they had made him kneel at the wooden post, and now he was sitting on his heels in front of them, leaning against the post somewhat lopsidedly. His arms were twisted behind his back, wrists locked in steel cuffs around the post and raised up. The chain of the cuffs was fixed on the hook too high, almost disjointing his arms, not letting him straighten his back.

"Hey, Nikto." Orel sighed. "Let's make a deal. You answer our questions honestly, and we give you a shot."

Nikto finally managed to turn his head and look up at Orel.

"Why are you breaking me? Aren't you a prince, a free lord from the Upper City? We are from different worlds. Our ways never cross. You have no personal interest in me. Whose order do you follow when you interrogate me? I didn't know a prince could serve someone. Who orders you? The king's secret police?"

Orel's face twitched.

"It doesn't concern you." He raised Nikto's chin higher with the tip on his boot making him screw his eyes shut with pain in his twisted arms. "I'm asking questions here, not you."

"Make him kiss your boot, Arel! Show this dirty half-blood who he's talking to!" Tol shouted clasping Nikto's head in his huge palms. "Here, Arel, kick his mug!"

"Tol, enough," Lis said.

"Just look at it, Arel!" Tol's hand in a leather glove made Nikto open his mouth showing his long, inhuman fangs. "And claws! On his fingers! He's a shitty, dirty half-blood! And the tattoos on his cheeks!" Tol squeezed Nikto's face. "Just look at it! The letters of the Unclean. Like something's written on his face!"

Orel met Nikto's gaze. Nikto's face was nothing like crude, irregular faces of the Unclean. The man also didn't look like a commoner; he could easily be called handsome if not for a scar that crossed his forehead and the whole right side of his face, tearing his cheek so deep that it seemed a little more and one could see his molars.

"Leave him be," Orel ordered. "Nikto, if you don't want any more problems, answer my questions, okay?"

"Okay, okay! Ask your questions! I didn't quit 'water' to die like that, in front of a bunch of idiots who don't even know what they want!"

"Easy, man!"

"I was set up!"

"I've never heard anyone speak Black like that," Enriki shook his head. "I barely can figure out what he says."

"He uses correct words," Lis said, "but what a nasty voice he has."

"What's your name?"

"Again? Fuck! All right, all right! It's Nik. Nik."

"How can you prove it?"

"People who know me can say."

"Where are you from?"

"I came to the city from the west."

"Did you live in the local outpost in the west, on the border with the lands of the Unclean?"



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