© Dmitrii Emets, 2022

Translated from Russian by

Jane H. Buckingham

Translation edited by

Shona Brandt

Cover designed by

Eva Elfimova

Titles in the Series

Methodius Buslaev – The Midnight Wizard

Methodius Buslaev – The Scroll of Desires

Methodius Buslaev – Third Horseman of Gloom

Methodius Buslaev – Ticket to Bald Mountain

Chapter 1
The Fairy Middlelina

Eddy Khavron yawned. Eddy Khavron Sighed. Eddy Khavron looked in the fridge, but discovered only soup from the day before yesterday, covered by a skin of congealed fat. He was hungry and angry. Only a handful of change jingled in his pockets, as if he pestered passers-by on the way to the subway.

His job at the fitness club had ended disgracefully a week ago, when, printing the next menu, Eddy, for the sake of mischief, changed its heading. In the new version the proud Queen of the Beach became Queen of Cellulite. According to Murphy’s Law, precisely this distorted menu was sent for radio ad preparation, and no one, of course, checked anything until the very last moment. Eddy’s boss did not appreciate the joke and, ejected from the quiet creek of cocktails and vitamin salads by a hostile coastal current, Eddy drifted further along the river of life.

Money quickly ran out. And then, his beloved sister Zozo, taking a long weekend, went off to a holiday centre near Moscow, where she attempted to arrange her fate once again. Daphne and Methodius had also disappeared somewhere, but Eddy hardly remembered them: there was no time for it. He, I repeat, was hungry and angry.

The doorbell tenderly chimed once, again, and suddenly had a fit. Khavron was surprised. He was not expecting anyone. “Who’s there?” he asked.

“Telegram!” he heard the reply.

Eddy opened the door. But, alas, he never got the telegram. If, of course, one does not count the telegram smacking his chin with a fist. He did not manage to dodge. The dusty doormat with the Demerdzhi Mountain was thoughtfully laid under his fallen body.

Nevertheless, Eddy had not lost consciousness and, lying on the mat, he watched three men stepped over his body and entered the apartment. The first was a stout, clean-shaven person in a white turtleneck and black jeans, over whose belt hung a fat and probably sweaty belly. The companions of the stout person were two typical mobsters dressed in tracksuits and sneakers. They differed from each other only in that one had auburn hair and the other had a scar across his cheek.

After slamming the door shut, the owner of the fat belly kicked Eddy.

“F***!” Eddy gasped.

“You’re it, you! Get up, sailor! We’ll talk!”

“Thanks. Better if I stay down. Had a rough day, you know,” Khavron declined, pensively touching his chin. He figured that if he got up, then he would most likely get it again.

“I said, get up!” the fat man said through his teeth and kicked him again.

Eddy got up reluctantly. He could understand intonations. They dragged him into the room and pushed him rudely into an armchair.

“I came to have a talk with you sailor to sailor. My name is Felix,” the stout person stated, straddling a chair.

Eddy wanted to ask why he called him sailor, but wisely kept silent. Call me sailor, just do not make me swim.

“Sailor, do you know why debts exist? In order to repay them! My job is to get money from those who don’t want to do this voluntarily,” Felix continued. The phrases poured out of him as if from a gramophone. Considerable experience and deep professional conformity were sensed.

“I don’t owe anything,” Eddy started to argue gloomily.

Refusing to own up, he hurriedly pondered over with which of his numerous debts this visit was connected. He owed a pile of people, but merely token amounts. In any case, there was no smell of a scuffle anywhere. At the most they would throw a cutlet or a tomato at him.

The fat man clicked his tongue. “Two years ago you worked in the Egypt restaurant?”

“Uh-h…” Eddy said, not daring to deny this. “Possibly. I worked in many places.”

“In the bar?”

“Well…”

Felix patted his cheek. “Smart boy, sharp! Remembers everything! So, sailor, you and your partner sold booze there and pocketed part of the takings. Then you quit. Your partner continued the previous stunt. He recently got caught… We already spoke with him,” the fat man looked at his own fist. “He repented and already paid a penalty. Besides that, he told us about you.”

“A real friend,” Eddy uttered miserably. Intuition advised him that denial was not the best idea in this case.

Felix chuckled approvingly. “Here’s a smart boy, understood everything! A real sailor! On the whole, three thousand from you, and we’ll go our separate ways.”

“Three thousand what? Roubles?” Khavron inadvertently blurted out and almost flew over the armchair. He did not even notice when the fat man swung. The pugnacious hulk definitely had a boxing past.

“No offence, sailor! Roubles aren’t considered here! This is so that you’ll be smarter. You’ll return the money?” Felix said.

“Yeah. No problem!” Eddy said maliciously, touching his cheekbone. “Oh yes, I forgot! I’ve donated it to the freezing of Antarctica! Please call my banker next week…”

The fat man’s fist took off again. This time Khavron caught the movement, which started in the hip, but, not having time to dodge, he again nuzzled his ear into the armchair.

“Listen, you! Keep your hands to yourself! What, do I look like one who has money?” Eddy yelled.

Frowning, Felix turned to his boys. The redhead, with great mental strain on his face, was cleaning his nails with a switchblade. The fellow with the scar was yawning openly, examining his sneakers. His long horse face was moody. Both were clearly bored with the routine work.

“What do you think? Does he not have money?” the fat man asked.

“Looks like it,” the redhead reluctantly said through his teeth. “The apartment is hopeless. No car, no computer, equipment is trash. Even if we clean out everything, it won’t run up to five hundred bucks… In short, the fellow is in deep.”

“Alright, sailor. You convinced me!” Felix said. “We believe you don’t have the money. We’ll give you three days to find the necessary sum. You get it – lucky you. You don’t get it – it’s on you. Today I hit you with one-third strength. Next time, three of us will hit together. And another thing, sailor, don’t even try to hide. If you do try, we…”

“Let me guess! Something like I’ll strongly regret it?” Khavron clarified by inquiring.

The fat man unstuck his massive backside from the chair. “Don’t be a smartass! I also see that you’re sharp,” he acknowledged.

The dour threesome marched past Methodius’ empty bed, also incidentally squinted without interest at his childhood photo, and flowed out onto the landing. “You, sailor, don’t relax too much! Or else you’ll be ugly!” the redhead said in farewell and made a crisscross motion with the knife, as if painting Eddy’s face.

Waiting until the door was closed, Khavron flung a sneaker at it and, propping up his head with his hands, put himself at the mercy of gloomy thoughts. Since Eddy had no prospects of getting money, his thoughts did not linger for long on this dead-end subject. They glided further, turning to the most abstract things.

“My mama must have looked at a zebra in the zoo while carrying me in her belly. Since then, my entire existence has been in stripes. Huge black and teensy-weensy white!” Eddy thought, leafing page after page through his life full of trouble.

Gradually he reached childhood, and in his memory, his nurse popped up as a bloated blue drowned man. Thin white lips with small dry cracks. Greyish short nose. Coarse thick hair on the chin. He moves every time she speaks. Here, his nurse grabs his arm painfully, pulling him to herself, takes off the dark glasses, and he sees terrible eyes without pupils.

“Aren’t the treasures of the Dnieper Rapids enough for me? Gold, weapons from dozens of shattered boats. The money that your parents paid me, I would make from mud. One day your life will bring you to a crossroad, and I’ll be there again! For the present, let your mother remove this dead bird!” the voice crackled softly. The toddler grows numb in soundless weeping. He vaguely feels that if he cries out, the witch’s dry fingers will close around his throat.

And again, although years had already passed, Eddy felt horror and the terrible dryness in his mouth. For decades, the old woman had become his nightmare.

“Pooh! Enough! Down with reminiscence! Everything in its own time. The time for tears and snot hasn’t come yet,” Eddy said to himself.

He shook his head and stood up, ready to go into the bathroom in order to immediately study his face. The face, having met Felix’s fist several times, began to grow suspiciously heavy. Eddy knew very well what this meant. Tomorrow morning he would only be able to leave home in dark glasses. The day after would be even worse: everything would be purple.

“Have to look at the bright side in everything. I’m lucky that I don’t do commercials,” Khavron muttered.

He was about to take a step towards the door, but at that moment a trickle of sand ran down from the ceiling onto his head. An astonished Eddy lifted his head, not understanding what this trick was, and barely had time to save his forehead from a small leather suitcase. The suitcase caught his chest, bounced, fell to the floor, and opened. Before glancing into it, the amazed Khavron stared at the ceiling. He expected to see a crack or a gap, but… nothing like that. The ceiling appeared so ordinary, like millions of other ceilings. At worst, a layer of plaster or a chandelier could fall from it, but definitely not a suitcase.

As a deeply materialistic person, Eddy hastily counted the options. “How did it get there? Aha! Methodius or Daphy had taped the suitcase to the ceiling. Why? Hmm, never know what nonsense gets into people’s heads… The suitcase is small, and the tape held it… But would tape stick to plaster? And then, where’s the tape now?” Eddy thought, getting more and more puzzled.

He squatted down and carefully peered into the suitcase. If the suitcase had been absolutely empty earlier (Eddy could have sworn a tooth in this, if not his own then someone else’s), then now a sheet of dense yellowish paper folded eight times lay on its bottom.

“Some kind of poster,” Khavron thought and automatically unfolded it.

ATTENTION: reward of 10,000 bagel holes.

The Bald Mountain maglice department (the intersection of Gallows Street and Two-Coffin Lane) is searching for a dangerous criminal.

Name: the fairy Middlelina.

Characteristics: height 9 cm, waist 7.5 cm. Never parts with her hat. Prone to irrepressible delight. Smokes Afghan cigarettes. Possesses skills of combat magic. Burns on finger tips. The sole surviving participant in the 1478 European Team Championship in Fatal Evil Eye.

Charges: participation in the theft of artifact and illicit predictions of the future, influencing its course.

She could have fled to the moronoid world. Rendering any assistance to the criminal is forbidden.

If you know anything, call the number 000-00-00 from any inoperative telephone or use the standard maglice summoning spell.

Eddy re-read the poster twice. It never came to his mind for a second that this could be anything more remarkable than a child’s scribble. “Who wrote this? Daphy? Or Mety? This is how everything begins. Anything at all, some amusement… About cigarettes there…” Eddy uttered in an undertone.

He had barely mentioned the cigarettes when someone coughed politely beside him. “Ah, what a nice young page! What a noble face, only a little stubble! Marvelous young man, do you have a light?” Eddy heard a quiet, husky voice.

He turned abruptly, but saw no one. “I imagined it,” he thought with dismay and, not keeping his balance, sat down heavily on the floor. More correctly, he almost sat, because the next moment, an unknown force had already tossed him into the air and hurled him to the sofa. Eddy lay patiently and waited until the image was restored before his eyes.

“You almost crushed me! Sitting in the presence of a lady is still okay. It’ll pass as necessity… But to sit on a lady is such bad taste that it isn’t allowed in polite society! What’s your excuse? Huh, what?” the voice said indignantly.

Eddy carefully slipped off the couch and, lying with his stomach on the floor, blankly examined his interlocutor. In appearance it was a very young, joyful, and energetic little lady – although who would undertake to determine the age of fairies? She was as tall as a ballpoint pen. On her head was a romantic looking straw hat. Behind her back were four wings, delicate, transparent, dragonfly-like, and in constant motion. The little lady held a fan in her hand. In the corner of her red lips was a cigarette inserted in a cigarette holder.

“Prince, I’m embarrassed! Why are you staring at me like a ram at the creation of non-Russian folklore? Better assist with a light. You see, the lady is in disarray,” the stranger said languidly.

“No light,” Khavron uttered with difficulty.

“Well, no light and no guillotine! Have to resort to magic, since everything is so run down!” the interlocutor sighed, easily lighting the cigarette with the touch of her fingernail.

“You’re the fairy Middlelina!” Eddy suddenly blurted out. At the same time, he wondered whether all these hallucinations about fairies were a direct result of Felix hitting him on the head.

The young lady was alarmed. Her wings began to flutter. Her hat dropped. Eddy saw the long dark hair caught with a gold ring. “I beg you, no more noise, prince! Magic and my name, uttered aloud! It’s enough to find out…”

“Find out what?”

“Shh! Not so loud! I’m not deaf! Why do you giants always yell this way? Trust me, the simplest words have much more power and meaning if you utter them in a whisper.”

“Huh? What?” Khavron did not understand.

Impatiently waving Eddy away, the stranger hastily folded her fan, turned it over, and – a magic wand ending in a crystal sphere appeared in her hands. Violet lightning intersected inside the sphere with a dry, unpleasant crackle.

“Magic wand-fan of five-hit action… No moronoid should touch the sphere, if, it goes without saying, becoming ashes isn’t in his plans… Shouldn’t even look again. But now a minute of patience, a carload of understanding, and I’ll shield the area!” the fairy warned.

She went around the room and alternately touched all the walls and the floor with her wand. Eddy heard a dry crackle. Only once did it seem to him that a transparent wall, delicate like muslin, merged with the main wall of the room. But most likely it was an optical illusion. The last was the ceiling’s turn. Fluttering her transparent wings, the fairy soared and touched it.

“Phew! Now I’m calm. If they didn’t spot me earlier, then I’m safe. Ah, overgrown duke? What do you think?” Middlelina asked, calmed down. Eddy silently swallowed the controversial title.

Fluttering all around, the fairy was suddenly interested in his face. “Well, dear man! How is it possible to be so careless to your face? You’re only given one. I’m surprised at you, man! Just what are you thinking? Is it really impossible to punch another place?”

“Apparently so,” Eddy muttered.

“Ah-ah-ah! Why such a prickly voice? Your mama should’ve loved you more in childhood, prince!”

“She loved me very much.”

“Trust me, I know better. Your mama loved your sister more. It’s noticeable from the small wrinkle slightly higher than the bridge of your nose. From the pattern on the retina of your left eye. And don’t argue with me, moronoid!”

“What did you call me?” Eddy asked inquisitively. He never missed an opportunity to supplement his rich dictionary of expletive vocabulary.

“Excuse me, prince! I forgot that you’re unenlightened. Chuck everything out of your head! Let me work on your face… I have a lot of experience. I was present several times during the production of mummies. You look slightly better, but so pale… You’re not a corpse by any chance, are you?”

Without resorting to the magic wand, the fairy touched Eddy’s face with a light palm. He felt a tingling sensation and the next moment, Middlelina was already sitting on the edge of the wardrobe dangling her legs as if nothing was the matter.

“Oh, how delightful! Doesn’t hurt anymore, does it? There won’t be any marks! I give a lifelong guarantee. Incidentally, I removed a couple of specks of cavities from your teeth, and relieved you of pimples, earwax, and dandruff! And of some other little things!” she bragged.

Eddy rushed to the mirror. A rather insolent, unshaven, but very healthy and contented face, which could belong as much to a marriage swindler as to a trumpeter of a provincial orchestra, stared at him from the mirror. The fairy was not joking. She had removed all the excess: the unhealthy blue under the eyes, the marks of Felix’s fist, and even the goofy birthmark on the right eyebrow. Standing by the mirror, Eddy hurriedly considered all the pluses of owning his own fairy. There was a sea of pluses, but, admittedly, also minuses. Eddy’s main minus was connected with those searching for the fairy. After thinking about this, he looked sideways at the phone, pondering whether to call 000-00-00, but this renegade thought did not linger longer than a second. To exchange a living and omnipotent fairy for some bagel holes! Dismiss it!

Khavron as a person belonged to the now widespread mercenary and cynical type; however, in his soul he was even slightly idealistic. True, if someone were to say something similar to him, Eddy most likely would turn around in disgust and start to protest.

“I won’t deliver you to anyone! You’re a treasure!” Eddy exclaimed.

Middlelina gave him an indulgent smile. “Thanks. I’ve already been told that. Although I have also heard the opposite. Especially from ungrateful rivals. They accuse me of all sorts of crimes.”

Khavron frowned. “I won’t say ‘you’re welcome’ to your ‘thanks’. But why are they looking for you?” he asked, checking.

“Dear giant!” the fairy said, burring nicely. “Remember this once and don’t repeat the mistake. If you did see the poster, it’s only because I wanted it…”

“Is what’s on the poster true?”

“It goes without saying. Illicit predictions of the future are half of the trouble. They would turn a blind eye to this for a long time if not for my other misdeed… I helped steal the artifact,” Middlelina said.

“That’s interesting. How did you do it?” Khavron asked.

The fairy glanced at him quickly and frowned. “One evening a little fellow muffled in a cloak came to me. I didn’t even make out his face. Something so small and insignificant. He brought a small sack of diamond dust and requested that a spell be cast on it. Diamond dust, you see, is a wonderful thing. The majority of artifacts are protected from teleportation and theft; however, if we sprinkle on them diamond dust, to which fairy magic is superimposed, an artifact can be taken away without much risk…”

“Typical setup! Why did you agree?”

Middlelina fluttered up and flew over to the window-sill. “I couldn’t refuse. Once long, long ago a wizard saved my life. I presented him with a ring and promised that I’d comply with any – even the most improbable – request of whoever would show it to me. And that evening my ring was returned to me and I was reminded of the promise in the form of an ultimatum.”

“But why didn’t you refuse?”

“You’re foolish! Magic promises can’t be broken! Even dark sorcerers are forced to keep their word if they’ve given it…” Middlelina replied with exasperation.

“Did he come to you? The one who saved you?”