The story of the Elf Queen

* * *

Ensure he hadn't forgotten anything, Luaval said a brief farewell to Darendil and his colleagues. The Secret Guard agents had provided him with a duffel bag full of new consumables, amulets, and special equipment, as well as the latest information on the upcoming operation. The original plan had been for some of them to head to Sakhib-Nere with him, but the discovery of Tiantrel had changed everything. Now, their main objective was to get her to the Forest as soon as possible. Activating a pair of amulets, the dark elf jumps over the side of the ship as a blurry shadow. The "Hardened" at that moment was passing along the spacious underground hall where the Deep Sea flowed into a small bay. Landing directly on the water, and not falling through thanks to the shoe enchantment that worked, the dark elf rushed towards the shore, trying to leave the open space as soon as possible. And also the deceptively calm surface of the dark waters of the Deep Sea.

When he reached the shore, Luaval took cover between several large rocks and stood still, listening intently. Silence. Or rather, the usual sounds of the Underworld that its mindless inhabitants make. Good. After waiting a few more minutes to be sure, the dark elf left his hiding place and rushed forward. It was much easier and faster without such a burden as seven groundlings. He crossed three rather large halls in less than an hour and a half. They were filled with all sorts of wildlife, including some really dangerous ones. But they were all animals or plants. There were no intelligent creatures that Luaval had ever seen. Though, there were a couple of sightings of hunting parties of dwarves. That wasn't too surprising, though. This part of the Underworld was part of the Neutral Territories, lying between the lands of the Undermountain and several mixed cities inhabited by dark elves and dwarves.

Both sides at different times tried to take them, and naturally met with opposition from their opponents, which resulted in several wars of varying degrees of intensity and bloodshed. In the end, several agreements were made, which secured the status of Neutral and a kind of buffer zone for these places. In addition, attempts to develop them were complicated by their proximity to the Deep Sea, which was a constant source of threat. Some of the creatures of the deep sea might well have crawled onto land. Or even walk out.

When he reached the fifth hall, Luaval stopped, looking around. Yes, it must be here. But where exactly? It was naive to think that the halls of the Underworld were static. They change over time. Some change slowly, and some change rather quickly. A subterranean river changes course because of a cave-in or a new crack, and that's it. Somewhere flooded everything, somewhere on the contrary drained, and familiar places are no longer recognizable. Unless, of course, you're an experienced Dungeon Hunter. The situation hadn't changed much in this particular hall, except that the underground vegetation had grown even more dense. It took Luaval almost half an hour to find a way to the surface. The last time he'd been here it had been almost fifty years ago, but he remembered the exit well.

Finally, the desired section of the side wall of the hall, concealed from the rest of the space by several massive rocks, was found. The dark elf spent a few minutes examining it from the side. Footprints and a small path going seemingly past, he noticed immediately. Not too fresh tracks, but someone was walking here, and regularly at that, and trying to make sure that the branch off the path leading to the beginning of the exit was not trampled. Interesting. After taking a few more minutes to look around, ensure no one was around, and that the last time anyone had been here had been almost three weeks ago, Luaval moved forward cautiously. The breach that led up to the surface was not manmade but had been in use for quite some time. It was blocked by a massive door, covered by a solid illusion. Classic. Ten minutes and the alarm locks were broken. Behind the door was the immediate start of the upward climb, which was still almost pristine.

Except it had been cleared, steps had been cut through the rock, niches for lamps had been made in the walls. Which, however, were absent right now. But there were several good signal strings stretched across the passage. And a couple of alarms on the floor, triggered by stepping on them. Without much difficulty, the dark elf reached the final part of the ascent. A small cave, the exit from which was blocked by another door under the illusion and a few signaling threads. It was even quicker to break through them and Luaval stepped carefully out, locking the door behind him again. He found himself at the foot of a hill, heavily covered with very thick and thorny shrubs planted here on purpose. It was not easy to find the entrance to the cave and the path leading to it if you didn't know where to look.

When he reached the top of the hill, Luaval looked around. It was clear. It was still night on the surface, with a fresh, salty wind blowing from the Middle Sea and the stars and moon shining brightly in the sky. Although, the sky above the mountain peaks visible in the east was already beginning to lighten. In any case, it was a clear day for an inhabitant of the Underworld, and the dark elf could easily recognize a rather large village nearby, surrounded by high fences. A narrow path led to it, winding through gentle hills, covered with sparse forest. So the locals were trading with someone from the Underworld.

Well, nothing surprising, the products from the surface, especially fresh ones, cost a lot of money underground and are considered delicacies. And not just food. Wood, fabrics, and materials for them are also very valuable. Just as the goods and resources of the Underground are worth many times more on the surface than in the cities of dark dwarves or elves. And the locals definitely conduct this trade secretly, bypassing all duties and taxes. Or, more likely, they do it under the patronage of the local sheikh, who is obliged to collect these taxes in favor of His Grace. He wonders who they're swapping with. With the dark dwarves, or with the inhabitants of the Undermountin? More likely the former. But that's none of his business.

Luaval adjusted his sack behind his back and headed westward. Where the hilltop overlooked the Iliyra and the huge vegetable garden that covered most of the delta. Despite the deep night, its streets were filled with lights, some of them bright. But that was all in the central part of the city. The outskirts of the capital city and the middle districts were in total darkness. By people's standards, of course. Which was a good thing. As he descended the hill, Luaval took a quick step toward the city. He had to get there before dawn.

* * *

Ashuir yawned and snapped her fingers. The faithful Tonga immediately held out a small glass of chilled fruit juice. Taking a few sips of her favorite drink, the sorceress yawned once more and returned the glass to her, rising from her chair to her feet. At that moment, a naked black woman of sturdy build standing in front of her on all fours demandingly rubbed her face against the sorceress's knees. Smiling contentedly, Ashuir stroked her curly black hair and praised her:

"Good kitty."

In response black-skinned inhabitant of the far south, covered with many scars, purred naturally, wagging her long panther-like tail a few times. After petting her some more, the sorceress began to test her commands. Gnbema, which was the name of the beastfolk, performed flawlessly. She rose to her feet, knelt, sat on the floor, lay down, bent over, opened her mouth, took on a fully animal form, partially animal form, and then human form again. Toward the end, she stood on her hands, froze for a moment like an arrow, then, on command, spread her legs in a horizontal twine. Ashuir walked her around in a circle, inspecting her meticulously, and was pleased with what she saw. Placing her palm on Gnbema's open lower lips, the sorceress ran a finger between them, pressing on her clit, and spoke:

"Good kitty."

In response, the black-skinned beastwoman pressed her lips together, shuddered, and mewled, but kept her balance despite her orgasm. Giggling contentedly, the sorceress slapped her palm on her firm and tight buttock. Well, job well done. Bringing Gnbema back to her normal position, Ashuir pinched her dark nipple and pulled her back with force, causing her to mewl contentedly and smile stupidly at her stern face. Nice kitty, but not her type at all. Too fierce and wild. And she looked more like an Orc, both in physique and beauty. Flat chest, no refined grace, just steel muscles, and beastly strength. But as they say, everyone has different tastes. Although... They say that cat beastmen have very nice tongues... Oh, well, there are prettier cats, if her friend thinks of getting one.

Ashuir smiled again and nodded to Otong sitting at a small table in the corner of the room. He put aside his quill and hurried over to her with a small scroll written in neat handwriting. It contained a detailed description of the beast folk, as well as a list of commands. The transformation of this fierce feral cat into a sweet domestic pussycat began early in the morning and took almost half a day. The work was not too difficult, rather routine for a specialist of her level. But still, it was exhausting.

There was no need to keep Gnbema's old personality and skills. Instead, it was to make her as meek and obedient as possible. Which Ashuir did very well. Ooh, that's it, that's the last one. In the past few days, she had processed four slave girls and three slaves, increasing their value by at least four times. She had paid off her debt to Khefur in full. Squeezing her nipple again and eliciting another satisfied meow from the beastwoman, who was a full head taller than the sorceress, Ashuir took the scroll from Otong, snapped her fingers, and headed for the exit. Her personal slaves and Gnbema followed her. A pair of white-eyed bodyguards silently opened the doors before the sorceress. Behind them, another pair was on duty. When the sorceress stepped out into the corridor, she nodded to the boy-servant standing nearby, and he immediately rushed deep into the house. A couple of minutes later, Khefur appeared, smiling broadly, in his unchanged snow-white robe with green foliage patterns. Behind him, a large retinue of people were milling about.

"Charming Ashuir-Wali, did you really finish so quickly?"

In response, the sorceress repeated the previously voiced commands with a slight smile. And the fierce beastwoman, who had taken more than a dozen lives during hunts both for food and for fun, obediently obeyed them. Khefur was delighted:

"Once again I am amazed at your skill, charming Ashuir-Wali! Truly, you are my savior! I was afraid she would not be ready in time for the auction."

"It's nothing, Khefur-Shan. But I must warn you in beast form her mind also becomes animal-like. Her thoughts become simpler and her instincts come to the forefront. The unnecessary ones I suppressed as much as possible, but they can't be completely eliminated without very serious effort. Therefore, I strongly advise the future owner not to put too much pressure on her, if she will be in the form of a beast. Otherwise, like any beast, she may bite back. I've covered all of this in great detail."

"Of course, of course! Thank you again, charming Ashuir-Vali! You will attend the auction tomorrow, won't you?"

"By all means, Khefur-Shan, how could I miss such an event? I'll see you at it tomorrow. I hope you've prepared a proper front-row seat for me."

"Of course, everything will be top-notch, I assure you! And again, please accept my deepest gratitude and let me show you out."

Khefur accompanied Ashuir to the exit of his mansion, which was his warehouse, trading house, and workshop at the same time. After saying goodbye to the merchant of living goods, the sorceress threw on a face-hiding garment, albeit made of translucent fabric, and went outside with her entourage. The sun was already past noon, the day was in full swing, and the Caliph's Bazaar was full of people. Of course, only the honorable and wealthy. The city guards stood at all the entrances and exits and did not let anyone else in. Hmm... Maybe we should take a little walk? Her grandmother had asked her to come early to help with the chores. But she was so tired of handling that cat... Well, the chores could wait, nothing urgent for now anyway. Then again, there are some things to buy here for that very business. Ashuir nodded to her bodyguards and headed toward the nearest shopping aisle.

Unlike the other bazaars of Sakhib-Nere, here the vendors did not shout at the top of their voices in praise of the goods, calling customers to them and shouting over the neighbors, but politely inquired whether the honored lady wanted anything. And the quality of the goods offered here corresponded to the politeness of the sellers. The first row was mostly selling various fabrics and ready-made clothes, as well as offering the services of sewing masters. The enchantress walked it almost to the very end and stopped at a familiar wizard whose services she had used before. The latter showered her with compliments and immediately offered her several ready-made garments and a dozen fabrics. Ashuir was not interested in ready-made garments so she chose two pieces of bright red and sandy-colored fabric. Afterward, she discussed the details of the future outfits with the craftsman. She had to make up for what she had lost in Morgrave. The master and his assistant wrote down all her wishes and took measurements. After some more time with him and complaining about the lost outfits, Ashuir left him, having paid for the order in full.

The next row sold alchemical goods and their ingredients. Ashuir was well known here, as was her grandmother. Some of the materials they needed for their craft were supplied by the Coven but some were impossible to obtain in the Great Desert. And that was procured in the bazaars of Sakhib-Nere. When she entered the first shop, Ashuir greeted the owner politely. The smiling halfling, from a large clan that had settled on the shores of Illyira in the vicinity of the capital, and who had accepted the Lordship's allegiance, showered her with compliments. While his nephews and grandsons lined the walls, laden with vials of various ointments, oils, powders, and dried herbs. Ready to serve and present anything that would interest the honorable lady. Most of the goods presented were made by the halflings from what they had grown in their fields and greenhouses. They were very successful in this field, having earned special patronage from His Grace. They didn't sell any magic ingredients, but they had all kinds of bases for alchemical potions of excellent quality. They also had incense, which she liked to use in her work to enhance the effect.

After buying her favorite scents and sampling a few new ones, as well as a set of vials with various oils and other consumables, Ashuir said goodbye to the pleased and extremely gracious owner and moved on. She next visited the largest and richest shop in the row, where they were selling full-fledged magical ingredients. Many of which could be very dangerous in the wrong hands. And in skillful ones even more so. Therefore, they were not sold to just anyone, even if they had money. A special permit was required to buy them. It could be obtained either in large guilds or through the Chancellery of the Illustrious. Of course, you had to specify who was buying what goods and why. It was a lot of work, but how else? Take, for example, the Scarlet Orchid, which grows deep in the impenetrable jungle in the south. Its flower can be used to make both a valuable medicine and a deadly poison, capable of poisoning dozens of people. If you know how to prepare it, of course.

Ashuir, of course, had a permit, certified by the Chancellery of His Grace, with the right to buy any goods. She was well known here, too. The shopkeeper, an older man in an impeccable black and gold robe, personally came out to greet the important guest. A member of a noble family, albeit a side branch, he was a gifted man, though not of outstanding power. But he had received a very good education, even at the Neurat Academy. After a polite greeting, Ashuir bought a set of the most popular consumables she and her grandmother had in stock. She also bought some overseas goods from the other side of the Middle Sea. The sorceress had planned to buy some of them in Morgrave through Vinatir, but the bloody bastards from the Isles ruined everything! They were much more expensive in Sakhib-Nere.

Ashuir bade him farewell and left the shop, moving on after purchasing what she needed and discussing with the proprietor the possibility of supplying him with some of the goods the coven's servants had procured in the Great Desert. In the next row, were jewelry vendors, including the masters of the Undermountain, who had their own representative in Sahib-Nere. The sorceress was also well known here. In the end, the little walk took more than three hours, and Ashuir left the Khalifa Bazaar when the sun began to sink. She didn't seem to have done much shopping though. Eventually, she returned home as the streets began to darken. Leaving the palanquin, she went inside the mansion accompanied by her slaves and bodyguards. She was already greeted by her disgruntled grandmother.

"Ashuir, where have you been again? I was expecting you much earlier!"

Making a pitying face, the sorceress pointed at Tong and Otong, who were laden with purchases:

"Grandma, I just decided to take a stroll through the Khalif's Bazaar. I picked up a few little things. And I ordered a couple of new outfits to replace the ones that burned up in Morgrave. I bought some stuff for my aunts, too, that they asked for."

The latter softened the expression on the young-looking witch's face, and she waved her hand without reprimanding her granddaughter.

"Well, we'll take care of business tomorrow then."

"Grandma, I told you there's a big auction tomorrow. I must attend it, there's bound to be someone interesting there."

"Oh, I really forgot. The day after tomorrow, then. Just don't spend all your money on those toys that are only good for the bed. And be careful out there."

"They're not just for bed! They'll be useful at home, too. Besides, once they're trained and processed, they can be sold for a profit. Or send them to aunts. And I'm always careful!"

"Sure, sure. Hmmm... Okay, we'll figure out what to do with them later. Did you check the shopping?"

"Needless to say, the Sakaribs were inspecting them as well."

"All right, then. Then let's go to dinner."

Tonga and Otong and their silent bodyguards took the purchases to a separate room in the basement of the mansion where they kept the supplies for the magic craft, while Ashuir and her grandmother went to the dining room. Everything on the table was ready and just waiting for their hosts. After dinner, the sorceress went to the harem to bathe before going to bed. Once inside, she began to take off her clothes, which she handed to the dark-skinned slave girl. Dropping her shoes last, she dove into the pool. Ooh, that felt good! The cool water was invigorating and refreshing. The past few days had been so tiring. She had to handle one slave after another in preparation for the auction. All that boring routine that only took up time and energy without bringing any joy. On the other hand, it saved her a lot of money. She wanted to rest properly after returning, but she couldn't. One thing or another. Maybe she shouldn't go to the auction tomorrow. But there's bound to be someone interesting or useful to the coven. And Zitra has to be taken care of, and the newcomers have to be properly processed. So much to take care of. Well, she'll think about them tomorrow. For now, she can and should rest. Hmm.

Climbing out of the water, the sorceress tossed her wet hair behind her back and glanced around at the harem's occupants. The new slave girls were just getting ready for bed after their day's activities, sitting on benches along the wall. Some were rubbing themselves with skincare creams and oils. A couple gently brushed and dried their washed hair. They were not wearing any clothes except sandals and towels, which allowed everyone to see their seductive figures. Next to them on a separate chair in an open robe sat Feyrouse, who had been Ashuir's assistant in training and educating the slaves. Especially the part about training in beauty care and pleasing their master. Or mistress. And not just in bed. She also taught etiquette, arithmetic, writing, manners, dancing, and singing. A very useful and intelligent assistant, on the preparation of which was spent a lot of effort and time. Her grandmother Ashuir had bought her at a slave auction as a child for absolutely ridiculous money. Feyrouse had been sold by her poor peasant parents. Since then, she had transformed from a skinny and huddled creature into a true Southern belle. Long dark and wavy hair, a slender waist, large breasts that had been slightly enlarged by alchemy, and smooth white skin that she carefully protected from the rays of the hot sun. It was obvious that the woman knew how to take care of her beauty.

And right now Bibi was kneeling in front of her, between her wide-open legs, wearing only a loincloth, working his tongue diligently. With a predatory smile, Ashuir climbed out of the water and walked leisurely toward them, swaying her hips. At the sight of her mistress, the assistant dismissed the boy and got to her feet. But Aushir stopped her with a gesture and said with a mischievous smile:

"I see Bibi's training is progressing well. How are the results?"

With a satisfied smile, the assistant snapped her fingers, and the interrupted boy returned to his previous task. Feyrousa leaned back in her chair and said in a satisfied voice:

"Not bad, Mistress. Of course, he still has a lot to learn, especially manners and etiquette, but he is trying hard. He can read and write, and not bad at calculus either. In a month or two, he'll be good if he keeps working hard."

Giggling, Ashuir stroked the boy's head who wouldn't stop working his tongue.

"I'm glad to hear that. Keep it up, Bibi, and you'll keep your boy."

Pausing for a moment, the young man, who with all his appearance tried not to show fear, and also not to think anything bad or especially vulgar about his mistress, whispered:

"Thank you, Mistress."

Smiling cheerfully, the sorceress admired him briefly. He was so cute and handsome after all. And after he had been rid of all his body hair in the beauty wards, Bibi had become just a cutie. So handsome. Clean-faced, slim. It's like... It really is. What if... Why not? It would be fun and really cute! Concentrating, Ashuir mentally conveyed her wish to Feyrouse. She opened her eyes in surprise for a moment when she heard her mistress' voice in her head, but then smiled slyly and contentedly, nodding.

Ashuir walked along the slave girls bought from Khefur leaving Feyrouse to entertain Bibi further. They immediately stopped what they were doing and hastily rose to their feet, bowing their heads. Smart girls. She'd only done a little work on them, making them more submissive and obedient. Especially since only the northerner from the Theocracy of the Sun worshippers showed any discontent with her situation. Raised and educated by the House of Os'Olon, the girl only needed to have her head checked for any hidden compulsions. Everything else had already been taught to her and at a very good level. Still, Os'Olon valued his reputation. The second Northerner from the Free Cities and the two black-skinned Southerners were no trouble. By their standards, they had been treated to a fabulous luxury they had never dreamed of before. Especially the Southerners who came from a large but still savage tribe. Comparing the huts and shacks they lived in with the huge mansion in Sahib Nera was ridiculous. As a result, the three slave girls did their best to please their new mistress and diligently learned everything Feyrousa showed them.

As Ashuir walked past them, she ran her palm over each of the slaves' breasts, squeezing gently and gauging the reaction. The only one who was displeased was the sun worshipper, who coincidentally had the biggest tits of the five. Squeezing her huge breasts, the sorceress pressed a finger to a large pale pink nipple. Nothing, Ashuir would fix that soon, cleaning all the unnecessary nonsense and remnants of stubbornness out of her head. Still, really good shopping, though. Leaving the northerner's tits alone and gesturing for the slave girls to return to their bedtime preparations, the sorceress threw on the robe handed to her by the dark-skinned maid and left the harem, heading for her chambers. Otong and Tonga were waiting for her at the door. Inside, a naked Zitra sat on the edge of the bed, accompanied by a pair of dark-skinned maids.

One of them sat behind the motionless elf, and with a satisfied smile massaged her breasts. Which had increased in size over the past few days. Not much, but already noticeable. Well. Soon it would be even bigger, and Zitra would become a real beauty! Her hair was carefully combed and styled, making her look more feminine. And when it grew back, she would be a beauty. The second maid was busy sitting on a small stool in front of the elf, gently rubbing a special skin cream on her legs. And not just any cream, but from Ashuir's personal stock, which she had prepared for herself, according to a recipe passed down from her grandmother. But for a precious little thing like Zitra it was not to be spared. What a sweetheart she is after all.

Feeling the growing desire, the sorceress sat in front of the dressing table and nodded to her dark-skinned brother and sister. They immediately began preparing everything for the evening's treatments. While Otong pulled out creams and ointments, his sister took care of the sorceress's hair, brushing it gently. Ashuir closed her eyes and concentrated on the elf's mind. Over the past few days, the gap in her mind had grown even larger, and working with Zitra was now noticeably easier, and easier by the day. A new personality is taking shape more and more, and it is possible to keep Zitrael suppressed for longer and longer. Though the long-eared one is still desperately resisting, making the changes go slower than one would like. But what can be done, such a valuable slave must be handled with care so as not to ruin her future assistant and mother of granddaughters.

After checking the settings once more and making some adjustments to the dreams Zitra would be having tonight, which they would be sure to discuss with her tomorrow morning, Ashuir went over her memories of today. Specifically, the dance class. The sorceress was very pleased with what she had seen. After waiting for the end of the evening procedures, Ashuir sent the maids and slaves away, leaving her alone in her chambers with the still elf staring at her with emerald eyes. Slowly approaching her, the sorceress threw off her robe as she went, leaving her naked as well. Stopping in front of Zitra, Ashuir ran her palm across the elf's cheek, then her fingertip across her lips, opening them. The strong, skillful, and experienced gifter, who knew lightning very well, did not react in any way. So dangerous. Proud, like all octuplets. And completely submissive to her will. That feeling of power over her was as exciting as her seductive body.

Taking Elf by the chin, Ashuir lifted her to her feet and wrapped her arms around her, pulling her closer. Running her palms down her back, Ashuir once again savored the silky skin beneath which was hidden trained muscles and the warmth of her body. Turning Zitra's back to her, the sorceress placed her palms on her breasts, beginning to massage them vigorously, and with her lips, she nipped the tip of her long ear. Soon, the eared one was panting heavily and flushed. Satisfied with the effect, Ashuir increased the pressure, and soon a moan of pleasure escaped the elf's lips. Good, the alchemy increased not only the size but also the sensitivity of her breasts. Well, the elves' ears are a known weak point, nothing even needed to be strengthened there. Having brought Zitra to the finish line, thankful that she was not blocked from orgasm today, Ashuir smiled contentedly, with the tip of her ear pressed between her lips. Running her tongue over it, the sorceress drew the heavily breathing elfess to the bed behind her. Laying on her back and placing the pillows under her, Ashuir spread her legs wide. A mental command and Zitra obediently lay on her stomach, nestling her face between her mistress's legs. A moment later, her tongue slid across the sorceress's lower lips, and she bit her lip in pleasure and threw her slender legs over her back. Bringing them together, she pressed the elf's face into her pussy.

* * *

The light was on in a room on the top floor of a large three-story house despite the late hour. It was not visible from the street, for the windows were carefully covered and the shutters closed. Most of the inhabitants of the house were peacefully asleep, except for a couple of watchmen who were sleepily pecking their noses on the first floor where the shop was located. The owner of the house and shop, a solid man of age who was the head of a large family and a successful middle-aged merchant, was also awake. He traded mainly in clothes made by his wives, daughters, nieces, and daughters-in-law, who worked in the same house, where in addition to the shop there was a weaving workshop. And they sewed quite well, and business was going well for the venerable Khaffar. The family lived well and was respected by the neighbors.

The perfect image of a successful merchant and honorable head of the family was spoiled only by one detail, which, fortunately, very few people knew about. No one among the household and neighbors knew about it at all. It was not trade that provided much of the family's prosperity. Or rather, quite a trade, but not in clothes or fabrics. It was something else for which the honorable Khaffar could easily lose his head and the whole family could be enslaved. But the benefits outweighed the risks, and he had little choice. So, instead of lounging in bed with one of his wives or slave maids, the honorable merchant sat in his study. Which was the most secure room in the house, even more secure than the master suite. And right now, the defenses were on full blast. Including a few amulets, which a respectable but still middle-aged merchant had nothing to do with. And he had nowhere to get them from. But they were there and working at full power, hiding from a possible observer what was going on inside the office.

And there was a very complicated conversation going on. Several scrolls and sheets of paper were spread out on the table in front of the merchant. Some of them were written in small but legible handwriting. The others were maps of the city, one of its districts, and one particular mansion. The first two were quite detailed, drawn by a master of the art. And they contained many notes, some of which would have been of great interest to the Luminous Caliph's Invisible Guard if they had seen them. The third, which showed a large mansion surrounded by a high wall, was the least detailed. But it was more marked than all the others. It was around this map that the conversation was centered:

"It's all I can get without attracting too much attention, believe me, sir. These witches don't let outsiders inside their lair. All of their household servants rarely go into town, and only when accompanied by those creepy white-eyed guards. Everything they need is brought directly to the mansion and unloaded there by their own servants."

His guest, who was making Khaffar riddled with nervousness, spoke in a thoughtful voice:

"And there's no old-timers left to ask around? Any distant relatives or visitors who've been there before?"

"They are, sir, but they're not easy to approach, they're not all simple people, and they're not likely to help us. When the former master fell ill and his witch mother took over the house, she hired a whole team of builders to rebuild and remodel the mansion. But what exactly they were doing there, no one knows, not even the laborers themselves. Since the witches took away everyone's memory, for which they were paid separately. But they worked for almost a whole year, practically without leaving the walls of the mansion."

"Got it..."

There was a silence in the merchant's study that made Khaffar nervous. His visitor, dressed in all the dark clothes that had gotten into the house inexplicably bypassing the good defenses, was thinking about something of his own, looking at the maps on the table. The previous such visitor had somehow not been as frightening as this one. The fat merchant tried his best not to show his fear, but it didn't work very well. As always at such moments, his heart felt like an icy hand was clutching his heart, and panic thoughts came into his head, and he cursed himself that he had agreed to that very first proposal many years ago. But he needed the money badly! Things were going badly, the money left in the inheritance from his father was running out. And he had to feed his family, and relatives, pay for fabrics, pay the workers, pay taxes, pay, pay, and pay again! He had to borrow money, and then another sum, but things were still not going well, and debts had to be paid. The threat of ruin loomed large before Haffar; he would have to sell his house and all his possessions to pay off his debts. He had no idea how to live after that.

At that moment, the strangers who had appeared out of nowhere and offered to help him had seemed to him to be heavenly messengers, appearing in response to his desperate prayers to all the heavenly beings, both collectively and individually. Naive fool! The strangers, whose true nature he learned much later, offered help without asking for much in return. Just a small thing. Shelter a couple of unremarkable people for a night or two. Keep a sealed trunk for safekeeping. Then give it to whomever they say, or leave it wherever they say. At the time it seemed such insignificant trifles that he did not even think about their real background! The main thing was that money had appeared, and the threat of ruin and poverty had faded into the background.

And the strangers managed to arrange everything cleverly, not just giving him money, but "buying" the goods, and at a higher price than they were worth. And they didn't buy it themselves but through some intermediaries. And not at one time, but little by little, over the course of a year, so as not to arouse suspicion. After all, if an almost bankrupt merchant suddenly has money to pay off all his debts, it will cause legitimate questions from others. And here, even though it is a city, and as in the same village, nowhere to hide from the attention of neighbors. But Khaffar didn't realize it then, he was young and stupid. At that time he only cared about the fact that he began to gradually pay off his debts. His family stopped starving, and his wives and other relatives stopped harassing him worse than swamp bloodsuckers. On the contrary, as soon as money appeared, the whole family immediately began to sing differently. Khaffar turned out to be a good man, he had fixed his affairs, he had organized his household, and he was a good man, just like his late father.

The realization of what he had gotten into came a few years later, when the threat of ruin no longer loomed before his eyes, and things were going very well. And quite well without the help of unknown benefactors. Then he thought about their rare requests. No, from the very beginning, they smelled of something murky, but there was nothing dangerous or evil in them. What could be wrong with sheltering someone for a while, without much publicity? Or handing someone a package?! As it turns out, it could be. Especially if your benefactors turned out to be inhabitants of the terrible and impenetrable Forest, lying beyond the mountains in the East.

Khaffar found out about it when he thought he was clever enough to try to discreetly open another package, a small sealed chest. Which, as it turned out, contained nothing of value. But there was an alarm that alerted his benefactors to his deception. That he didn't even notice. His benefactors showed up at his house that night. They showed their true ever-young faces and explained with murderous politeness what he had been doing these years and who he had been helping. And what's in store for his family, and for him in particular. And at the same time, they told him that they were very sad that he had betrayed their trust. Khaffar had never felt such horror as he did at that moment. He begged their forgiveness, but they responded with the same cold politeness, telling him he had betrayed their trust after all they had done for him. Therefore, he was no longer of value to them. Unless he agreed to take the Blood Oath.

Khaffar, of course, agreed. And that was the beginning of his new life. After that, the elves took him seriously. They taught him what he needed, provided him with what he needed, and told him what to do. To be fair, they paid for all of this quite handsomely, but not generously. Not to arouse suspicion, they said. Many years have passed since then. Khaffar's business was going very well, his family lived well and obeyed their patriarch without question, believing in his talent and business acumen. And with his mind, he knew perfectly well that if he had refused help then, everything would have been different, and they would be living in poverty now. Or even slavery. If they had lived at all. But every time, at moments like this, he cursed himself for agreeing.

"Did you prepare everything that was asked for?"

The guest's voice made the thoughtful merchant wince, and he nodded hastily.

"Yes, just as ordered. I always keep a supply on hand, just like they told me to."

Walking over to a chest that stood against the wall, Khaffar opened the two massive locks and pulled out a pair of very ordinary sacks.

"Here, it's all securely packed."

"Good."

Nodding, the stranger placed a tight wallet on the table, jingling pleasantly with coins.

"Prepare the shelter in the basement of the house to house two guests. Use the amulets I gave you and stay in contact."

"Of course, of course, I'll do everything. The shelter's all set up. I've been told in advance!"

"All right, then. Is the room on this floor ready for me?"

"Yes, of course, always ready, as your colleagues ordered. My family thinks I keep all sorts of unnecessary things in there and..."

"All right. As long as no one bothers me."

"Of course, honorable, I'm the only one have the keys to it, and no one in my household will go in without asking...."

"All right, then. Then that's it for today."

Without another word, the stranger took the two prepared bags and left, closing the study door behind him. The merchant did not even want to know how he would leave the house. Because the less you know, the better you sleep and live longer. Khaffar waited a full minute, exhaled, and wiped the sweat from his face. Whew. It had passed. Each time he feared another benefactor would leave and cut his life short, deciding that they no longer needed the merchant. So he did his best to ensure they didn't have that thought. Ugh. But it's scary every time.

After calming down a bit, Khaffar tucked the wet handkerchief into the pocket of his robe and sat down at the table. He picked up the wallet and assessed its pleasant weight, and a satisfied smile appeared. After untying the ties, the merchant carefully dumped the coins and began to count and sort them carefully. Dirakhs, thalers, orenes, and krones were of different quality, both full-weight and cut, as well as different years of minting. It was the same as always. After counting the total amount, Haffar smiled contentedly and stashed the sorted coins piece by piece in three different hiding places.

* * *

The watchtower, built near the River Bazaar, offered an excellent view of most of the city, as well as the surrounding lands and the Illyria River, which flowed over the horizon. It was a very good place for observation, except that it was a bit of a challenge to climb to the top. The city guards were on duty here around the clock. In times of peace, like now, their main task was to notice and report fires. Which meant exactly one thing. Of the four men who were supposed to be watching each side of the world, only one, the youngest, was awake. The others were safely asleep, while he was walking in circles and trying hard not to fall asleep, yawning. He would not have seen Luaval climbing past him to the roof of the tower.

The dark elf made himself comfortable and again thanked human nature for making his work so easy. Though, there were such idiots among the firstborn, too. In fact, it was because of two of them that he was sitting here now. Bastards. All right, let's see what we're dealing with. The conversation with the Secret Guard agent was useful enough on the one hand, but on the other hand, it wasn't very useful. The maps he'd provided would be useful in planning an escape. But they wouldn't be of much help in getting inside. Though it was hard to blame him and expect anything more. He wasn't at the level of training to handle such tasks. Well, you can't have too many good agents. Which meant he'd have to do most of the work himself. Eh, he was hoping for support from at least one of Twilight's team. But after his find, Third's hands are in short supply. So, what have they got?

After placing the magical tiara on his head and activating it, Luaval took out a telescope with custom-made and enchanted lenses. When he found the mansion he wanted, he carefully focused the lenses and then synchronized the telescope with the tiara. In an instant, the walls surrounding the house, the interior grounds, and the mansion were transformed. With a cluck of his tongue, the dark elf began to look at it in different modes. The longer he looked at it, the more gloomy it became. The defense here was no worse than the castle of the Duke of Mont Ros, and in some places even better. And that was only the defense he could see. And there must be many hidden tricks, just as there would be in the lair of any witch. Those are very much attached to their habitats and grow to them, so it's not easy to smoke them out. It's not the Heart of the Coven, but the witch has lived here for decades. I'm sure she's had time to weave and grow all sorts of things.

But the main problem was that the mansion, despite its size, was not a castle. It's smaller. Which means the defenses are denser. Otherwise, it's a manageable task, especially for a specialist of his level and resources. Any defense can be opened, keys can be found, loopholes can be found. You just need time and resources. And he doesn't have the former. Or rather, not enough. So what can he do?

Luaval knew from personal experience that there were only two ways to crack such hard nuts. Either a systematic and thoughtful siege, where the defenses are slowly and carefully peeled back layer by layer. Or a decisive and desperate assault, using overwhelming magical power. For the former, he has no time. For the latter, the means. The challenge. He must think it over and discuss the options with Sivila and Third's analysts.

After putting away the telescope and removing the tiara, Luaval left the tower without being seen by the sleepy guard. After reaching the merchant's house and entering through the door on the roofs (five minutes of fiddling with the lock and the signaling strings), he took up residence in the outermost room on the third floor, unnoticed by anyone. Here the owner kept all sorts of things that were not needed but could not be thrown out, in case they were still useful. There were cracked pots, blown cauldrons, rolled-up mats, some boxes and other junk. It was obvious that very few people came here. That's a good thing. There was a place to sit, and it was on the opposite wall from the entrance, blocked off by a few crates and a massive chest. So the occasional entrant wouldn't see an intruder. Not bad.

After checking the room thoroughly and ensuring there were no surprises, Luaval began to settle in. Of course, he would have preferred a more secure shelter. But alas, there was no such place in Sakhib-Nera. Of course, he could disguise himself as a human and stay in an inn. But a lonely man, even a stranger, would attract the attention of thieves or slavers. They almost always have eyes and ears in such places. In more respectable inns, for those who are richer and where accommodation costs money, a lonely man will also attract interest. If you have money and can afford to rent a room here, why alone? People with money don't travel alone. And on foot. He doesn't need to attract attention.

It would be possible to stay in the open air outside the city, but this is also a certain risk. The place is very crowded, it's the capital city after all. The land along the banks of the Illyira is very fertile, and every scrap of it is owned and cultivated by someone. He'd been saying for a long time that we should prepare a really safe shelter here, or at least a place to lie down. And Sivila was in complete agreement with him. And Third. But, as always, everything was hindered by the lack of hands, funds, and more urgent and important things. Well, after this operation, he'll get them. Let them do what they want, but let them provide one shelter on the right bank of the Illyira. In the meantime, discussing the current state of affairs is necessary.

Settling down on his camp bed, Luaval put on his tiara, took out his artifact journal, and wrote a short message. He was answered almost immediately. A few minutes later, he felt a mental call attuned to him.

* * *

In the spacious room of the huge trading yard, which belonged directly to the Illustrious Caliph, and was situated near, of course, the Caliph's Bazaar. It was crowded but not overcrowded. This one was as different from the other two markets where live goods were traded as the Caliph's Bazaar was from the River Bazaar. No one was clamoring at the sight of a pretty slave girl, no one was yelling like a loudmouth, shouting at other buyers and outbidding them. Everything was extremely orderly and decent. In the center of the room was a free space, brightly lit by magical lamps, where the goods were brought out one by one. Around it in a wide semicircle were seats for visitors and buyers. Comfortable armchairs and sofas, tables. At will it was possible to order drinks or food, which was delivered by numerous servants. Everything is for the convenience of the honorable buyers. Also, on each table were installed special amulets that allowed you to make a bid, which was immediately announced by the auctioneer.

The audience also corresponded to the status of a place where only the most select goods were traded. There were no random people here. On her way to her seat in the very front row, Ashuir noticed representatives of several trading Houses from the Free Cities and a couple of noble nobles of the Illustrious Caliph with their entourage. Separated from everyone else in the front row on a wide couch sat the Second Crown Prince, wearing a snow-white robe embroidered with bright red fabric. He was flanked by a pair of half-naked Sakhi-Tananan. They looked like ordinary concubines. Except their jewelry was all battle or protective amulets, and each had a battle wand on his belt in addition to a dagger. The rest of the entourage lined up behind the Second Crown Prince, ready to fulfill any wish of the lord. A dozen and a half bodyguards in luxurious armor stood in a tight ring around them, glaring unkindly at everyone around them and holding their palms defiantly on the hilt of their sabers or wands.

A dozen and a half lizards were seated on the left edge of the semicircle, taking two spots at once, merging them into one. The official representative and envoy of one of their cities with a completely unpronounceable name had arrived in Sakhib-Nere not so long ago with a large river caravan, and his entourage. The representatives of the scaly warrior caste looked very impressive. They were almost two meters tall, with dark-brown scales, powerful build, big tails, vicious yellow eyes, and fangs protruding from their mouths. To meet such a thing in the midst of the impenetrable jungles or swamps of the south you would rather mistake it for a monster than a sapient creature. Against their background, the messenger seemed tiny and fragile. A graceful build, a long and flexible tail, much smaller and smoother scales of reddish color, no large fangs protruding from his mouth, and very small claws on his hands and feet. He was dressed in colorful clothes of expensive cotton, decorated with bright feathers of strange birds and numerous gold ornaments. It looked very unusual and outlandish, but Ashuir felt that all these feathers and gold jewelry were a full-fledged complex protective artifact and a very good one.

In addition to his kin, the envoy's entourage also included a pair of human slave girls. Very pretty slaves that were almost completely naked. Most likely, return gift from His Grace. One of them, a light-skinned northerner with brown hair and gray eyes, sat with him on a luxurious couch, stroking the envoy's tail, which he wrapped around her waist, the tip tickling her under her large breasts. On the other side, a graceful lizardess, with smooth light beige scales, was cuddled against him. She was also wearing mostly jewelry. Very expensive jewelry. Like their fire-breathing overlords, lizards adored gold. Only dwarves could compete with them in this respect.

Ashuir took her seat in the front row and dismissed the servant who had escorted her. Tonga immediately moved a small pouf for her mistress, where the sorceress threw her legs. The white-eyed Sakaribs silently took seats around her, attracting interested glances from their neighbors. Ashuir didn't care, though. She yawned widely, taking advantage of the fact that most of her face was hidden. She hadn't slept well again, though she'd gone to bed not too late the night before, right after she'd played with Zitra. Still, it was hard to get herself out of bed in the morning. It was the elf's fault, though, and her skillful tongue.

At the memory of Zitra waking her again with passionate kisses on her pussy, the sorceress's lower abdomen grew warm and her nipples began to tense beneath the loose black silk garment. Biting her lip, Ashuir inhaled and exhaled deeply several times. Later. Now was not the time. She would still have time to play with her tonight. Just in time to evaluate her dancing skills. Yes, that's what she would do! At the same time, she could assess how the concubine outfit she had ordered to be prepared on the first day would look on the elf. The image of Zitra dressed in translucent fabric and many bracelets was so seductive and bright that the sorceress had to bite her lip again and take several deep breaths. Fortunately, at that moment the voice of the bidding manager, amplified by a special amulet, sounded.

"Honored guests, may I have your attention, please? Soon, the auction will begin, please take your seats. We will begin with goods from the far South, brought by our dear and honored guest Ssash Yaass."

To the steward's credit, he pronounced the name of the lizard envoy almost flawlessly.

"Following him, the venerable Khefur-Shan will present his goods....."

Ashuir folded her arms across her chest and waited. Well, let's see what's on offer today. Maybe someone interesting will come along...

* * *

For the first half of the auction, Ashuir was frankly bored. No, there was something to see. Or rather, there was a lot to see. But she was no longer interested in the same black slaves captured by lizards in the far south. Slaves from among their kin were not to the sorceress' taste. Although a couple of lizards, which had very bright and beautiful scales, and showed incredible flexibility and very long tongues, were fought over. She knew Khefur's merchandise, so it was nothing new to her. It was fun to watch the haggling over the two half-elves, though. And the pussycat she had treated had been greeted with delight. She, by the way, like the dark half-elf, was bought by the Second Crown Prince. Following Zefur's goods was a small shipment of slaves from the Free Cities. Mostly masters of various crafts. To be more precise, two graduates of the Neirat Academy, who were studying to be architects had gone to the wrong tavern to celebrate passing their exams. As a result, both of them wake up on the ship of slavers. However, the grieving graduates were lucky. Both of them, and for a lot of money, were bought by representatives of one of the trading houses from their native Free Cities.

Ashuir grinned contemptuously as she watched the scene. It looked very beautiful and even noble. These poor souls who had naively and foolishly fallen into the hands of slave traders had been ransomed by their countrymen from the vile southern slave traders. Aye-aye-aye, those bad southerners. But in her time with Khefur and a couple of his colleagues, Ashuir had seen and heard all sorts of things. Both in the minds of the merchants and their living goods. As if the representatives of this House had "helped" the two graduates to fall into the clutches of the Slavers. In order to "save" them. But, of course, not for nothing. And now both "rescued" will have to pay the ransom for more than a year. It might seem to be too complicated, and there would be more trouble than profit, but the sorceress knew well how much a really smart graduate of the Neurat Academy, which was famous throughout the Middle Sea and far beyond, was worth. Of course, it was only her speculation, but she had met such stories. More than once.

Anyway, she wasn't interested in the craftsmen either. Afterward, however, there was something quite interesting. Another of Zefur's sworn rivals, a trader of live goods, had unexpectedly presented a shipment of teenage children caught or bought from poor parents from all over the Middle Sea region. Gifted children. They were many times more expensive than ordinary children, as they were not common. And the demand for them was very high. Almost all the magic and trade guilds had their own search teams that searched villages and poor neighborhoods for nuggets. But it was not easy to recognize a gifted child before his talent awakened. That's what many slavers and merchants used to take advantage of. They bought a child from the poor for a pittance, fed him, and sometimes even taught him counting and writing, or even the basics of the magical arts. After that, they resold it for many times its value, with a huge profit.

Because the demand for such goods was constant and exceeded the supply. Ashuir stepped forward and took a closer look at the teenagers in the center of the room. Five boys and three girls. In the semi-darkness of the mall, the sorceress's eyes lit up with magical fire as she carefully assessed the lined-up teens, starting with the boys. Hmm... These two are out of the question, their gift is weak, they are only suitable for apprenticeship, and their subtle bodies are developed and formed below average. This one's not bad, but no more. He can be useful, but only at the apprentice level. Another teenager. The oldest of the five, made the witch literally grit her teeth. Good, a nugget indeed, and an above-average gift. But the age was irretrievably lost, and as a result, a very good potential was almost ruined. The subtle bodies are not properly formed, the energy channels are not developed. It should have been started to train and develop five years ago when the gift was fully awakened, and now the time is gone. Some things could be corrected, some could be strengthened, but in any case, the defects would remain. At best, he'd be able to reach half the potential he'd been born with. In this regard, the most promising was the last of the five, and at the same time the youngest. An above-average gift, but not by much. But it was only just fully formed, and with the right training, it could be developed into something worthwhile.

The situation was no better with the two teenage girls. The first one had a frankly weak gift, though her thin body was relatively well formed. It would be more trouble than it would be worth. If she were to be taken, it would only be as a consort to a similarly weak apprentice to increase the chance of having gifted children. The second one, though she had a stronger gift, also had obvious distortions in the development of subtle bodies. A strongly developed hearth, or, as it was called in the same Academy, the core, and an equally strongly developed central energy channel, to the detriment of the side ones. This would result in the girl spending a lot of energy on spells and weaves, draining the reserve. This can also be corrected, but not completely and at great cost.

The third girl turned out to be quite good. She was the smallest of the three, with an above-average strength and a thin body that was just forming. And, importantly, she's still really a girl. Physically, she's not badly built either, and she looks very tidy and well-groomed. The sellers have obviously tried to make her look as marketable as possible. She's the one to get. Great find for the Coven. Freshly gifted blood is always good, especially if it's a girl. Boys are a little harder to come by. But a girl like this, the aunts will be happy to have her. Though... Turning her gaze back to the youngest of the teenagers, Ashuir thought for a moment. A handsome boy, judging by his appearance, from the Northern Theocracy. He's built well, except he's a little thin. They should try to buy them both back. Expensive, of course, but she must try. Leaning back in her chair, the sorceress waited for the teenagers to be chosen.

The boys were sold off first. Two of them were bought by the Free Cities trading houses, and one, the oldest, was bought by the Second Crown Prince. The fourth, who was not bad but not much more, was bought by one of the nobles of the Illustrious. Ashuir found it hard to tell whether it was his giftedness or his good looks that made the difference. When the turn came to the fifth, the auctioneer announced:

"A gifted young man, a native of the Theocracy, thirteen and a half years of age. Trained in writing and calculus, physically fit. Starting bid, six hundred Dirakhs in silver."

Almost immediately the bid was accepted, and almost immediately outbid. Ashuir waited until the price had reached fifteen hundred and fifty thousand and most of the buyers had dropped out before activating the amulet built into the table, indicating the amount.

"Bid two thousand dirakhs in silver, the bid is accepted!"

The representative of the ruling branch of one of the noble of noble Houses of the Caliphate cast a displeased glance at the unexpected competitor. He was met by the white eyes of one of the Sakaribs. Immediately realizing everything, he chewed his beard and made a new bet.

"Two thousand two hundred dirakhs in silver, the bid is accepted! Who will give more? Two thousand five hundred silver dirakhs. Bid accepted! Who will give more?"

Throwing another disgruntled glance at the sorceress, the aristocrat waved his hand in concession.

"No more bids, the gifted young man has been sold to the honorable Ashuir-Wali. Moving on..."

Taking out a small sheet of paper from the chest Tonga had handed her, Aushir grumbled unhappily. Expensive, but it would pay for itself. Taking an enchanted quill, the sorceress began to write the receipt in calligraphic handwriting. It was fortunate the trading house where the auction was held belonged to the Illustrious One, and there would be no problems with payment through his treasury. There was still money left over from the sale of the ship and the bloody islanders, plus her savings. There should be enough for the girl. While she was writing and putting her seal, the first two girls were successfully sold, and it was the turn of the youngest and most promising one.

"A gifted girl from the southern edge of the Great Caliphate, thirteen years old, schooled in writing and calculus as well as dance. Physically healthy and virgin. Starting bid, eight hundred dirakhs in silver!"

Almost immediately she doubled in size. A lizard envoy laid his yellow eye on the girl. One of the nobles of the Most Serene had a beef with him. When the price passed three thousand, Ashuir mentally grimaced, but still made a bid:

"Three thousand five hundred dirakhs in silver, the bet is accepted, who will give the most?"

The lizard slanted its yellow eyes with vertical pupils toward the sorceress and wagged its tail lazily.

"Four thousand dirakhs in silver, the bid is accepted, will anyone give more?"

Pressing her lips together, Ashuir raised.

"Four and a half thousand dirakhs in silver, the bid is accepted, who will give more? I have four eight hundred, who has more?"

Yeah, grandma's gonna be thrilled. But you can't let a girl like that get away! Ashuir touched the amulet with a glance at the satisfied red-cheeked messenger:

"Five thousand dirakhs in silver! The bet is accepted, who will give the most?"

For a few minutes only quiet whispers were heard in the trading hall, and the visitors threw surprised and interested glances at the sorceress and the lizard. It was quite understandable. For such a huge sum of money, one could buy a dozen young and healthy slaves. The lizard envoy stretched his lips and revealed a row of small, sharp teeth, then wagged his tail.

"Five thousand five hundred dirakhs in silver! The bet is accepted, who will give the most?"

Damn you, you dragon bedfellow! Pressing her lips together and glad that most of her face was hidden, Ashuir touched the amulet.

"There are five thousand seven hundred and fifty dirakhs in silver! The bet is accepted, who will give the most?"

With a glare, the lizard waved a clawed hand in concession. Ashuir exhaled wistfully. Her grandmother would be thrilled to hear about her purchases. She'd have to cut back on spending and forget about vacations for the next few months. Eight thousand-plus Dirakhs, I wish the dragons would eat that little bastard! I must remember that scaly face, and I must thank him. Not now, but someday. Lizards live a long time, but the Daughters of the Desert age very slowly.

"Bid accepted, no more bids! The gifted girl has been sold to the honorable Ashuir-Wali!"

The sorceress did not participate in further bargaining, she had already spent almost twice as much as she was going to. Although, there was no one else of interest for her personally or for the Coven. So, she did not wait for the end but left the auction with Tonga and the silent Sakharibs. It didn't take long to communicate with the assistant manager of the trading yard. Who Ashuir was was well known here. Having received one and a half thousand silver in live coin, and a receipt for the rest of the sum in the Treasury of His Grace, the assistant manager quickly checked its validity, after which the sorceress was handed over to both nervous teenagers. The girl was dressed in a simple summer dress of white fabric, allowing full appreciation of her figure. The boy was wearing a sleeveless vest and short pants down to his knees. Having received all the relevant documents and the controlling amulet from the collars, the sorceress hurriedly left the Lightbringer's trading yard. Her purchases, glancing around fearfully, hurriedly followed her.

The palanquin was already waiting outside. At the sight of it, the two teenagers' eyes popped up to their foreheads. Smiling to herself, the sorceress ordered them to follow. Together with Ashuir and Tonga, they climbed inside, settling carefully on the soft cushions. When the curtains of the palanquin closed and they were on their way, the sorceress gracefully removed her headdress from her face and smiled warmly at the nervous children:

"Well, hello, my lovelies. My name is Ashuir dan Laafat, and I am your new Mistress. I'm also a real sorceress..."

* * *

He had a good view of the mansion he wanted from the flat roof of a tall, ornate mosaic mansion on the opposite side of the wide road. It wasn't easy to get in, but it was possible. Luaval didn't want to get inside, he wanted a vantage point. He had set it up with the help of a trio of amulets, which created a solid illusion around him and concealed the use of binding amulets. Because since early morning, the dark elf had been in constant contact with the Forest. Or rather, with the palace. To be even more precise, with the team of Dusk that had already arrived home. Several maps were spread out in front of Luaval, including the mansion across the street. The latter had been supplemented somewhat, thanks to the communication channel with Zitrael. Unfortunately, the captive elfess had been taken along a very limited route. Even so, it was possible to fill in a few white spots. That, however, did not help much in solving the main task.

It won't work. There will definitely be posts and traps in the garden. Very well hidden. I won't be able to open them on the fly. And once I hit one, I'll have to retreat. And there will probably be tame animals, birds, and snakes, which these witches love so much, Luaval shook his head as he continued to scrutinize his target with his magical vision, changing specters.

A variant using a fake face? One of the Secret Guard agents, who was connected to the unified telepathic network, spoke up.

No way. Unless you found Lortan's own cloak while I was gone. Their white-eyed guards will cut through any disguise I can create under these conditions.

Airborne infiltration?

It doesn't. There's a trio of contract spirits circling the mansion at all times, and some sort of magical defense, like a scanning dome. I can't tell from this distance.

A variation of the Barrier of Life that reacts to living objects and determines their size and nature, one of the gifted agent-analysts defined.

A possibility of deception?

Possible, but requires considerable time and selection of certain frequencies...

Not an option. We don't have that much time or capacity. I'll say it again. The only option, the only real option I can see, is a simultaneous counter-attack by all forces, followed by the quickest possible escape, Luaval repeated his thought for the umpteenth time.

Third answered him personally:

It's a big risk. A very big risk.

I don't see any other options. Too tough a nut to crack, and too little time. Then again, if we time it right, when Ashuir is out of the mansion and only the house slaves are around Zitrael, there is a chance. We'll need a strong distraction strike, I'll go for the breakthrough immediately. Zitrael needs to get as close to the outer perimeter of the mansion as possible. Ideally on the roof or in rooms facing the right direction. I'll cut through the breach and pick her up, freeing her from her collar. After that, all we have to do is make a quick getaway. If we prepare an escape route, we have a chance.

For a few seconds, there was silence in the mental space, and then Sivila took the floor:

That is an option. But in that case, Ashuir will realize that we were aware that Zitrael was in her possession.

Is it a big deal? If we don't kill her, the coven will pretend it never happened. The status quo is fine for the Sisters of the Desert.

That's true. But it would be better if Zitrael could be pulled out without the witches realizing who exactly did it. Or better yet, lead them on a false trail altogether.

Rolling his eyes, Luaval sighed heavily. Here we go. Don't you have to go to His Grace's harem?

It wouldn't be superfluous at all. Can you do it?

Realizing that he had broadcast his last thought into the ether, Luaval grimaced and asked:

Is there a specific reason why she shouldn't find out about who saved Zitrael?

There is.

Which one?

A second of silence, after which Third replied:

"We brought Whisper into the operation. And she managed to give Ashuir a slight massage.

Oh. Now that's news. Reed was very glad you pulled her from the East?

Indescribably excited.

I can imagine. How badly did she mash her brains through her tits?

Not as much as I'd like, but enough to make her think a little more about having fun in bed, and a little less about playing with other's minds.

I see. And you fear that in the event of a forceful evacuation option, she would be tested and an impact detected?

The likelihood of that is estimated to be practically one hundred percent. These witches have always been highly suspicious.

As he shifted his spectrum of magical vision, Luaval thought hard. It would be great to reduce, at least partially, a headache like Ashuir's. Ideally, it would be good to get rid of it altogether. But the Sisters of the Desert would have a vendetta for that, and it would be even more of a problem. The witch coven knew how to hit in the most unexpected places. Forest was convinced of it by their own bitter experience. But it was not easy to get them in their native land, in the hot sands of the Great Desert. To be more precise, no one had succeeded so far. Despite the fact that the size of the Great Desert in the scale of the continent was not so great, its sands were very treacherous and concealed a lot of dangers. And with the Dark Tower and the spatial anomalies it generated, one could easily stay among the dunes and dunes forever. Well, that's a challenge...

First?

I think. Hmm. How much time do we have in reserve?

One week of guaranteed time. Further, the risk will increase every day and...

What the... Eternal Darkness and its spawn!

First?

Look!

There was silence in the mental network for almost a minute. Everyone connected to it was tensely scrutinizing what the dark elf had seen. Third was the first to speak:

Well, well, well. That's interesting. Can we use that?

* * *

By the time the palanquin reached the mansion, the teens had thawed considerably and listened to Ashuir with great interest, occasionally daring to ask questions of their own. Especially, after she removed their collars and defiantly rendered them unusable with a snap of her fingers. A beautiful gesture that essentially changed nothing. They wouldn't be able to escape anyway, and there was no place for them to go, but it did make them feel good about the sorceress. When the palanquin stopped in front of the main entrance and they climbed out, Ashuir said with a smile:

"We've arrived. This is my home."

Both children literally dropped their jaws to the floor at what they saw. To them, her mansion seemed like a fairy tale palace. Satisfied with the effect, Ashuir beckoned them to follow her. She was already greeted at the entrance by a line of maids. Nodding to them, the sorceress said:

"Girls, these are our new tenants and my future students. Dia and Hyung. They need to be cleaned, fed, given clean clothes, and assigned rooms."

The maids bowed, and the eldest of them uttered:

"It will be done, Mrs. Ashuir. And Mrs. Zaikhir asked me to tell you that she is waiting for you in her special chambers and asks you to come as soon as you return."

I see. It's going to be another lecture. Rolling her eyes, the sorceress nodded:

"I heard you."

Letting Sakharibs and Tonga go, Ashuir made her way to the interior of the mansion. There was a room set aside for magical practice. After knocking, the sorceress went inside, starting from the threshold:

"Grandma, I'm ba..."

And she froze at half a word, goggle-eyed at what she saw.

"Hello, Ashuir. Come in, my dear, and close the door behind you."

Startled, the sorceress hurriedly stepped inside, closing the door behind her, and immediately performed a deep bow:

"Hello, Mother Ayar. It's good to see you in good health."

"It's good to see you too, my dear."

In the center of the room, at a small round table, three other women, dressed in black and silver robes, sat in comfortable armchairs besides Zaikhir. Two of them were middle-aged and quite pretty, though one of them had some gray hairs in her dark hair. The third looked almost younger than Ashuir, with smooth white skin, blue eyes, and a youthful face. The current matriarch of the coven, whose exact age, more than a century old, was unknown to any of the Sisters of the Desert.

* * *

The lover of the spouse of the Elf Queen.