Right hand. Prince of Darkness - Dmitry Nazarov

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habitually sat by the fire, clasping his knees with his hands.

      – Do I look like an idiot? he wondered.

      I propped myself up on my elbow, examining him, lazily shrugged my shoulders, and lay back down comfortably.

      – I do not know. Haven’t seen them in a while.

      Eitan raised his eyes to the heavens in annoyance. But no one looked from there with a sympathetic look. Between the oncoming clouds, rare tiny stars blinked fearfully.

      – I knew very well that they were of little interest in my opinion, – he condescended to answer.

      – Then why didn’t you keep it to yourself?

      – I think that in some cases it is necessary to do the right thing, even if it does not change anything.

      – Why? – I thought, drummed my fingers on the damp earth. – So that nightmares do not torment you at night? To feel like a good person? To be respected by others?

      – That’s how I was brought up, – snapped Eitan, but still considered it necessary to clarify: “If one, second, third, fourth know that they can’t change anything, but still do the right thing, sooner or later something will change. Even a mountain can move.”

      – Perhaps. He glanced at me in surprise, apparently expecting ridicule, and not easy agreement. Not wanting to disappoint anyone, she added her fly in the ointment: – Only the concept of “correct” for each of them will be different, so the mountain will not move. Unless, of course, someone pushes her harder.

      – For example?

      – Yes, you never know, – I answered vaguely, looking into the dark sky.

      – Who are you, Arafel?

      The question took me by surprise. I propped myself up on my elbow again to meet the overly attentive gaze.

      – Just a girl.

      Eitan laughed.

      I sat up, frowning, smoothing my tousled hair and wrapping my arms around my knees, waiting for this misplaced bout of fun to end.

      – No ‘just a girl’ would answer like that, – he said at last.

      – But as? I pricked up my ears.

      – Well, for example, – Marta from the village of Rotten Stumps.” Or “the blacksmith’s daughter”. But not a “girl”. Would you even say “man”!

      I bit my lip in annoyance because that was what I had originally intended to say.

      Do you think I’m blind? You took the spell off me without even coming close. Let’s say you’re just a witch. Strong witch. But then it gets more interesting. You struggle with all your might not to enter the temple. And when I did go in, do you think I didn’t notice what happened there? You were not reflected in the mirror surface, and this scared the old woman to death.

      – She got scared! I snapped. – There would be something to be afraid of! Who needs it?

      – Then the nuns went crazy when you came to the convent, – he continued with the insistence of an enraged prosecutor.

      – They were crazy about you, so you can still argue who is to blame! – I retorted.

      – And I also felled the trees in that clearing?

      – An earthquake, a coincidence. A natural phenomenon. Maybe it was the Prince of Light who intervened, I suggested caustically.

      – An interesting earthquake. Local is. One clearing shook, but the rest of the forest – as if it had not happened.

      – I am not responsible for your local forests.

      – What about your horse? This is a completely different song. It gallops without a road, barely touching the ground, and at such a speed that any riding horse will envy.

      I folded my arms across my chest and looked accusingly at Eitan. Well, now what to do with it? Incinerate on the spot?

      – Okay, let’s say you caught me. I’m not a person. And he is not a horse. What’s next? I warn you right away: garlic will not help. I can’t stand the smell, but I won’t scatter ashes. And the sign of the Prince will not help: that old woman has already tried. I will only get angry. Aspen stake is better. The tree, of course, does not matter, but if you hit the vital organs, I will die. But can you get to me?

      From such pressure, Eitan was embarrassed.

      – I’m not going to do anything. I just wanted to ask. Who are you really?

      I let out an unintelligible exclamation, meant to express my annoyance.

      – I don’t know how to say it! You don’t have such a word. In order for a word to appear, a concept is needed. And you have no idea what is happening in my world. Well, if you like, you can call me a demon, – I relented, although I grimaced at such a wording. – In your language, this is probably the closest.

      Eitan still got it, judging by how convulsively he swallowed.

      – I didn’t think demons… looked like that.

      – Demons don’t look like anything, – I snapped. We are incorporeal and can take on different forms. And I ask you not to confuse me with all sorts of primitive beings who are not interested in anything but to devour energetically.

      Eitan did not quite understand what I was talking about, but it seems that a new thought occurred to him, as he closed his eyes and began to massage his temples with his fingers.

      – So I slept with a demon, – he finally stated. Will I go to hell?

      I batted my eyelashes in bewilderment, and then burst out laughing so that I fell back onto the grass and clutched my stomach with both hands.

      – You know, – I said with difficulty, then, wiping my tears, – I have seen an innumerable number of people who ended up in, as you put it, hell. None of them have this reason. Oh, I can’t, well, you have a fantasy! Such details of your personal life are of no interest to either the Prince of Darkness or the Prince of Light. I’m sorry, but to get to hell, you have to do something more serious.

      – It’s calming.

      – And don’t calm down too much, – I advised vindictively. – Maybe I’m lying? I’m a demon! What if I came to earth for this, to seduce you and forever deprive you of paradise?

      – I doubt. I don’t think a… demon like you would come for such a small thing.

      One point for you. Wouldn’t have arrived. Our meeting with you is a 100% accident.

      – What an accident?

      Again a puncture. Such words should not have been used.

      – Absolute. Full.

      – Okay. And still. What brought you to earth? There is some purpose.

      – Of course. Let’s put it this way: I came to earth with a mission.

      – And… what kind of mission is this? – Eitan asked with undisguised apprehension.

      – But I won’t

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