Edgars Auziņš
Midnight Academy. Born at midnight

Chapter 1. The Last Escape

It felt like late evening had enveloped everything around me like a thick cocoon on the other side of the window. And a park alley starting from the large metal gates and going all the way to the porch of this creepy castle with peaked towers; and a fountain with a stone gargoyle, which seemed to mock me, moving subtly as soon as I started to turn away from the window; and rare benches, unoccupied by anyone at this either late or early hour.

But all this simply could not happen!

Exactly twenty minutes ago, in the light of day, my mother and I entered the Ashwool city library, but it was as if we left it in the dead of night. The irritating light of the tall wrought-iron lamps made it possible to see a completely different long street with ancient Victorian houses instead of modern, barely rebuilt townhouses.

These buildings seem to have ended up here by accident. They seemed to come from another era. However, after just a few minutes of walking to the gates of the Midnight Academy, I realized that it was my mother and I who came from another era. Even, probably, from another world. Because in our world, carriages trimmed with carved wood have not been used for their intended purpose for a long time. Yes, I only saw these in photos on the Internet when I was writing another boring history report at school.

The clothes of the passers-by we met were also notable. A kind of nuclear mixture between modernity and the Middle Ages. I, in my denim overalls and white sneakers that matched the color of my T-shirt, looked at least strange against the background of women in baggy floor-length dresses or ladies who chose tight leather pants, high boots, a black corset and a simple raincoat with a deep hood for a late walk.

It seemed to me that I was simply dreaming! But I definitely didn't sleep. She stood in the gloomy darkened corridor of the academy on the second floor. Opposite me was a window, and to the left was one of the massive doors. Behind it was the office of the head of this educational institution.

Trying to isolate something important, she brazenly eavesdropped on her conversation with her mother. I honestly tried to get information in another way, but my mother always avoided uncomfortable questions, and more often she simply remained silent or angry, instantly turning the topic to something pressing: the mess in my room, bad grades at school, or my crappy diet.

Actually, school ended last year. I learned to clean the rooms I lived in myself. And I switched to proper nutrition, with an abundance of vegetables, berries, herbs and fruits. But she still didn’t answer my questions.

More precisely, to the same question.

– Madame Pelisey, I ask you. “Be lenient,” said my mother. It was the first time I heard such a soft tone from her. “I ask you to enroll Sally in the Midnighter Academy.”

“Aletra, are you completely crazy?” It's the middle of the year, where will I enroll her?!

The second voice seemed heavy, strong, stern to me. I had not yet seen what the director of this educational institution looked like, but I already imagined a kind of iron lady with a constant hint of a slap in the head in her gaze. Such people could equally manage either some large university or an entire army corps.

“Madame Pelisey, but you know everything,” stubbornness was now clearly evident in the mother’s voice.

By the way, I inherited it from her, although she most often denied this fact.

Silence reigned in the office. For a moment I even thought that it was my hearing problems that had begun, but in addition to the office of the head of the educational institution, there was also a small secretarial room behind the door. I heard the secretary frantically hammering on the keys, as if she were typing right under my ear.

There was a heavy sigh. It clearly didn't belong to my mother.

“I warned you, Aletra.” I tried to dissuade you in this very office, but you didn’t want to hear me.

– I remember.

Mom’s voice was now barely audible, and I just wanted to rush into them and shout: “What did they warn about? What were you dissuaded from? – but I continued to stand in the same place, practically sticking my back to the wall.

The gaze kept returning to the window. It was semicircular, slightly elongated, with a frame made of ebony. At the very top there was a gloomy stained glass window: the full-sided moon cast an ominous shadow, and in the foreground, with inky wings outstretched, a bat seemed to be hovering in flight.

I caught my reflection in the glass. Dark brown hair, partially pinned at the back of her head, flowed down her shoulders to her chest. The blue eyes seemed unusually frightened, open so wide that the expressive lines of thick eyelashes were visible in the shadows.

She bit her lips nervously, hiding her hands behind her back. Having joined her fingers in a lock, she slightly pushed this structure away from the wall and again joined it, trying to hear something else.

And the conversation in the office continued. My heart sank as soon as my mother’s confession sounded:

– Eighteen years ago it seemed to me that I could cope with anything, with any adversity. But now, having matured, I understand how naive I was then. The older Sally got, the more persistently we were pursued. He…

The heart was beating fast and fast. The pulse was like a drumbeat in my ears. I wanted mom to continue. Finally, I dropped at least a few words about who exactly had been pursuing her all my life; because of whom we had to move twice a year, or even more often, leaving behind almost everything that we were just starting to have.

Your lips are dry, your fingers are clenched into fists…

“I just can’t do it anymore, Madame Pelisay.” “I’m very tired,” my mother complained, and I exhaled in disappointment.

But the next second she pulled herself up again with her whole body.

– Can we speak frankly? – the director of the academy suddenly asked.

I was on the verge of ungracefully placing my ear directly against the massive, heavy door of blackened wood. Still, no one appeared in the corridor – it was empty and quiet, like in a morgue, but I was afraid that the secretary would decide to go out into the corridor on some very important matter, and here I stood, my ears open.

“We can,” the parent answered confidently and suddenly added: “Sally has no abilities.”

– How can he not? Nothing at all? – Madame Pelisey said dumbfounded, as if this fact surprised her much more than our appearance on the threshold of her academy.

“No,” my mother answered clearly.

But Madame didn’t seem to believe her. And that's right actually.

– No sensitive hearing? No sharp vision? No speed? Dexterity? Strength? – she listed, pronouncing each next word louder. – Nothing at all?

– At all.

The director of the Midnighter Academy, judging by her tone, was taken aback:

“Then how do you want your daughter to study here?” What will she learn if she has no even a hint of ability?

There's nothing worse than waiting. During the expressive pause, my heart managed to beat against my chest three times.

“Madame Pelisay, I am not asking you to teach her to be a Midnighter.” Knowing that the Dark Side exists will be enough for her. In our case, forewarned means forearmed. “I understand that my request may seem arrogant to you, but I really have no other options,” my mother chaotically and hastily made excuses, as if she was afraid that they would interrupt her and throw her out, which I personally would be very happy about. “I ask that you hide Sally in your academy.”

Silence reigned again in the office behind the wall.

I lived all my eighteen years in an absolutely normal, ordinary world. But the first sign that all was not well with me appeared four years ago. Then I was terribly afraid of the changes that came to me overnight.

I was a late bloomer. While my next new classmates were busy dating guys, going on dates in the evenings, I was poring over textbooks, because they were the only ones who were my constant friends on all our trips.

And the guys didn’t really notice me. Childishly angular, without outstanding forms, thin and silent. They only needed me if they needed to copy homework, and then they quickly forgot about me.

My transformation happened right on the road. Having rented a new car using fake documents, we had already been driving to the other side of the continent for several weeks when I began to notice the first minor changes in myself. The look became different. The shape of the face seemed different, and then the body slowly but surely underwent tangible metamorphoses.

I could boast of a figure no worse than my mother’s, and, probably, it was for this reason that I suddenly gained popularity at the new school. Now every second person wanted to make friends with me, and the guys kept asking me to go out after class.

But it was impossible. My mother watched like a hawk to ensure that I strictly followed her stupid rules. For example, we had a strict ban on creating accounts on social networks and accessing the Internet not in Incognito mode. I shouldn’t have invited any of my classmates to visit us, even if it was required for a joint project and threatened with failure for the assignment. I couldn’t have friends at all and every time we moved, I cut off absolutely all contacts. I was prohibited from personal communication with anyone, much less meeting outside of school hours.

However, my mother could not keep an eye on me at school.

It was there that I first felt that my hearing had changed. When concentrating on one thing – for example, a raven flying in the sky – I could hear the flapping of its wings. Or the conversation of classmates on the other side of the street when they were discussing someone too frivolously. Or…

In fact, I could clearly hear anything within a radius of about thirty meters, but this required real concentration, without being distracted by anything else for a split second. It was impossible to eat and listen at the same time, or walk and listen, but I rejoiced even at this advantage. It kept me from doing something stupid in high school, when I briefly became rebellious.

Pretending that I diligently went to bed, I ran out of the house through the window to go to the next party thrown by one of my classmates. Crazy dancing, loud music, nasty colorful cocktails and secluded corners where guys took their girls to kiss for a long time.

And not just kissing. Out of curiosity, having overheard the intentions of my “boyfriend” in his conversation with a friend, I left that last party for me before everyone else. Because she couldn't afford to fall so low. Yes, I didn’t want to – it’s not like that and not with him. I hoped that one day I would meet the one worthy, but with our nomadic life, even casual acquaintances were not possible.

When someone spoke to me on the street or in a shopping center, I silently turned around and walked in the opposite direction, even if the guy turned out to be handsome as God and had a damn incredible voice.

Any of the random passers-by could turn out to be the wolf from Little Red Riding Hood, who at all costs wanted to devour both the grandmother and granddaughter.

I discovered my second change in myself. I became curious if I had any other powers along with the superheroes from movies and comics. I tried to fly, I tried to jump far, run fast and even turn into a werewolf, which scared the neighbor’s ginger cat, who came for a walk on our balcony in another rented apartment.

So, through trial and error, I realized that my vision is still much better than that of completely healthy people. Where others only saw the big picture, I could see the smallest details. I looked at the number of the approaching bus about a hundred meters before it stopped, and if in the house opposite there was a woman reading in a chair by the window, then I confidently saw the text on the pages.

But this also required narrow concentration, which was not at all easy. I got tired too quickly and could fall asleep for several hours right in broad daylight. At the same time, my periodic slipping into a coma was not at all surprising to my mother. She was often busy working, staying at her laptop until late at night, or creating yet another escape plan.

Moreover, she always had several options in case something unexpected happened.

Until about ten years old, I sincerely believed that she was a former spy from some sophisticated intelligence agency, who cut off all ties with the birth of her daughter. But time passed, and we just ran away, never meeting our pursuer face to face.

It was precisely because my mother already had enough reasons to be nervous that I did not talk about my discoveries. I didn’t want to worry her even more, seeing how difficult it was already for her. And now she was even glad that she managed to keep everything a secret.

Because I didn't like this place at all. I didn't like it as soon as I saw it.

Outside the gates a gloomy, dark façade awaited us. Stone gargoyles on the sloping roofs precisely followed our every step, and cobwebs and dust wafted from the stained glass windows. A wide porch with a dozen steps was greeted with a black carpet, and the spacious hall of the educational institution was greeted with mirrored walls from the middle to the ceiling.

The lower part was covered with dark wood, which only added to the creepiness. The staircase to the second floor seemed to be intertwined with steps into the wall, as if the tree was alive and was trying to crawl with roots and branches to the floor and ceiling.

The corridor in which I stood did not have a friendly interior either. On one side along its entire length there were semicircular windows, letting in yellow light from street lamps into the twilight. On the other side there were identical doors and several metal benches of bizarre curved shapes. The light from the lamps seemed dim, muffled, and the ceiling and wall lamps themselves looked like antique candelabra.

All this designer rebellion sent herds of goosebumps down my spine. I didn't want to stay here. Everything inside me was against this and… parting with my mother. We lived for eighteen years side by side, without being separated even for a day. I always knew where she was and what she was doing, but now how?

I prayed that Madame Pelisay would refuse us. No, no and NO!

Yes, I still couldn’t believe my eyes. I didn’t believe my hands, my legs, or even my head. The chance that I had simply lost my mind was extremely high, but I would rather have preferred a strong nightmare, where everything that surrounded me was the delirium of my fevered imagination.

Because that doesn't happen. Not in real life!

As if having overheard my thoughts, the gargoyle guarding the fountain working at that hour slowly turned its terrible fanged muzzle towards me, looked at the very window next to which I was standing, and winked. Apparently, me too.

Well, I winked at her in response, apparently for the first time in my life, earning myself a nervous tic.

Due to zeal, the lens slipped off my eye. I miraculously managed to catch it at the chin, but I couldn’t put it on now after touching it with my hands. It was necessary to rinse with a special solution and leave for at least two hours, which I simply could not do in this corridor, and therefore I removed the second one to put both in a napkin. All our belongings, including our lens case, were still in the rental car on the other side of the city library.

At the entrance that existed in the normal world.

In the ordinary world, in which, apparently, there was no longer a place for me.

I didn’t know who had been stalking my mother so manically for many years. I didn’t know what he needed from us. But three days ago he showed up again, although we lived happily without his presence for the last six months. In a wonderful town called Shepwell, where all the neighbors on the street knew each other.

We rented a small two-bedroom apartment on the second floor of an old five-story building. At night, through the thin ceilings, the steps of the neighbor who lived on the floor above could be heard, and behind the wall at night the water was constantly turned on. But there was a certain amount of comfort in all of this. It was as if we were not alone in the whole world, which was only confirmed as soon as one of us left the apartment.

In Shepwell it was customary to greet neighbors and always find out how they were doing. An elderly woman living across the street would ask me to go to the store, and the neighbor downstairs would always treat me to candy, which I would throw into the trash bin two houses away every time.

I loved sweets, but I couldn’t afford to accept anything from strangers.

Actually, I was just about to leave the house when I saw, through the gap between the thick curtains and the window, a black jeep pulling up at our entrance. It was not parked, the engine was running, as were the headlights, but it would not have been possible to see who was hiding inside even if one wanted to.

The car turned out to be tightly tinted all around.

“Mom…” I called quietly, first turning up the volume on the TV almost to maximum.

Having taken my place, she also did not move the curtains, but as soon as she saw the jeep, she quickly pulled me by the hand, dragging me away from the window. I knew the next steps in advance, having lived through each stage many, many times.

Whatever we were doing at that moment, as soon as a threat appeared, we dropped absolutely everything. The parent only took the laptop and bag in case of escape, and I took the e-reader and backpack. Things, food, water – the minimum set was available in each pre-prepared car. Well, my mother carried money and documents with her, preferring to keep them closer to her hands.

Pull on cloaks, put on hoods. We didn't even take the time to lock the door. They either climbed out through the window or went down the stairs if there was a second exit at the entrance.

There were usually pre-rented cars parked on each side of the house. Of course, in financial terms, such reinsurance cost a large sum, but more than once it came to the rescue and saved us from an immediate meeting with the pursuer.

– Mom, maybe it’s just someone else’s car? Did any of the neighbors or guests come to someone? – I asked, sitting down in the front seat and buckling up. – Maybe this maniac has long forgotten about us, huh? And he lives his quiet maniacal life somewhere in a quiet place.

– Don't be stupid, Sally! – she said sternly, sharply backing up and turning the steering wheel.

I had thought before that my parent was simply sick. The older I got, the less I believed in the invisible pursuer who never caught up with us. Moreover, my mother said almost nothing about her childhood and youth.

What if she spent them in some asylum? Maybe all these years she needed special medicine, the help of qualified specialists, and year after year I mindlessly continued to support her illness?

“Mom, maybe we should just stop and find out what he or she needs from us?” At the same time, we’ll understand if someone is following us…” I suggested carefully, trying to track her emotions.

Focused, confident, gloomy. She didn't look like she was mentally ill.

– Never! – she hissed, no worse than a snake, clutching the steering wheel with incredible strength until it creaked. – Do you hear? Never dare to even think about it!

I wanted to say something else, but in the rearview mirror I noticed that same black jeep. Exactly the same one, because I had a good look at the numbers, first trying to concentrate and at least see something through the tint. The car confidently increased speed and threatened to catch up with our car, but my mother did not give up. She pressed the gas pedal to the floor, driving out onto a suburban highway, mired on both sides in green fields, electrical towers and tall trees.

There the car was rushing at great speed along a flat road, almost imperceptibly. But the road was easier for the jeep too. He was practically breathing into our trunk.

– Mom, train! – I shouted, hearing the growing roar of the express rushing along the railway.

Ahead at the crossing, a barrier was slowly lowering, serving as a barrier device. The traffic light was blinking hysterically with a prohibitory light. The train driver sounded a sound signal using a typhon.

– Mother!

She didn't respond, didn't say anything. At some point, for a split second, I even thought that this was the end. That I spent all eighteen years in prohibitions in order to die like this stupidly, running away from a monster that I had never seen with my own eyes…

I didn't even have the courage to close my eyes.

Our car managed to fly through the rails just a few seconds before colliding with the train, completely demolishing the barrier on both sides. At that moment I wasn’t breathing at all. And my heart seemed to stop.

I desperately wanted to cling to my mother’s hand, but I perfectly understood that I could only hinder her. After what I had experienced, the last thing I wanted was to kill us.

Looking in the rearview mirror, between the rushing carriages of the train, I saw only the shadow of a black jeep forced to stop. When we turned at the intersection, he was no longer following us, but I still didn’t dare say anything.

The mother stopped only when we pulled off the road into a forest straight towards the lake, disappearing with the car behind the dense greenery of the trees. And that’s where her nerves gave way. Covering her face with her hands, she almost lay there for several minutes, leaning on the steering wheel.

“Mom…” I wanted to apologize for the mistrust.

But she exhaled sharply, straightened up and interrupted me:

“Sally, this can’t go on any longer.” We need to hide you so that he can't get to you. I swear I didn't mean to bring you into this. I didn't think you'd spend your first eighteen years on the run. I wanted an ordinary life for you, like I once had. – Stroking my cheek with her palm, she smiled through her tears. “As long as you’re around, I can’t deal with him, because I’ll never forgive myself if I put you in danger.”

– Mom, you speak in riddles. “I don’t understand anything,” I admitted, but tears stood as a veil in my eyes.

Exhaling loudly again, as if she had gained determination, she started the car.

– Go. I'll tell you something on the way. For starters…” she taxied back onto the highway leading to Ashwool. – You should know that our world has another – the Dark Side.

Chapter 2. Polunochnikov Academy

Silence. It was cold, like water in a barrel that had stood outside the country house all winter. She was tense – my nails dug into the flesh of my palms to the point of palpable pain, while I waited for the end of the conversation that was happening without my participation on the other side of the wall. It drove me crazy, because the unknown is the worst creation of our imperfect world.

Out of the corner of my eye, noticing some movement on the dark, porous floor tiles, I suddenly jumped up and froze in horror. My lips immediately dried up at the sight of a disgusting white spider, which confidently moved all its legs, clearly intending to stroll past me.

Or maybe to me! It was impossible to predict his desires from his beady black eyes. But I knew one thing for sure: I didn’t want to cross paths with this individual the size of my fist under any pretext.

Because I was terribly afraid of spiders. To the point of muteness. Until loss of consciousness. As a child, this was my biggest fear. The babayka, the brownie and the under-bed monster weren’t even close to them.

But this is in childhood. A large amount of free time and almost unlimited access to any literature through an e-book played a role. Using various methods, I was able to slightly reduce the degree of my relationship with these multi-legged creatures. Now I perceived them much easier. But if there was an option not to be in the same room with them, I did everything to get rid of these monsters.

Because to preserve the psyche of both of us, we should have stayed away from each other.

In one leap, I moved to the window, I opened it by touch, without taking my gaze off this big-eyed one. A light breeze with a pleasant evening coolness stroked my face and ruffled my hair, but I didn’t even think about wasting time getting myself in order.

Instead, she blocked the white furry man’s path, decisively and boldly placing her foot in his way.

Stopping abruptly, he looked at me as if with incomprehension, rising slightly on his front paws with indignation. I looked this way and that.

I tried my best to keep my cool.

In the end, probably considering me inadequate, the spider chose a workaround.

But stubbornness is my second self. This corridor is too small for the two of us and my great fear.

Take a deep breath, exhale slowly. Carefully grabbing the furry one by his disgusting body with my fingers, I instantly sat him down on the metal frame outside the window and slammed the shutter, locking it tightly.

The heart was beating fast and fast. My pulse beat like a drum in my ears, and through it I could hear my own rapid breathing. This moment, while I was carrying the spider, seemed like an eternity to me. The furry one tried to get out, to reach me with his nasty paws, tickled my skin with them and resisted with all his might.

Even the spiders here were strange! I've never come across white ones in my life. I just sincerely hoped that it was not poisonous!

After wiping my palms on my overalls, I returned to the door, took a breath and allowed myself to close my eyelids for a moment. However, she immediately realized that she had so absurdly missed some part of the conversation. Incredible regret immediately closed around my throat like a pressing ring, but what I had done could not be undone.

I could not think adequately if I knew that there was a spider close to me.

“…don’t let Sally near the Recorder,” I caught, concentrating on the voices.

“Are you afraid that she will find out who her father is?” – the question from Madame Pelisey sounded mockingly.

I leaned against the wall as close as possible. This was the second topic that my mother and I never discussed openly and frankly. Once, when I was older, I received a meager answer from her that it was a casual one-night stand, which she never regretted at all.

But I was sorely lacking this data. One smart person wrote that we are our past, tied to the destinies of our ancestors. If you don't know your family, you simply don't know yourself.

“I wouldn’t want to complicate things even more,” the parent answered restrainedly.

“Aletra, I haven’t agreed to take her yet.” You have always been unbearably stubborn in your intentions and decisions! – the head of the academy was indignant with admiration that was inexplicable to me. – Okay, I'll take your daughter. But only out of respect for my late friend. Your mother was a wonderful person and would never forgive me if I left her granddaughter in trouble. Notes? What are you going to do next?

I was literally torn apart by the overwhelming emotions. They tipped over like cold water, crawling under my clothes with prickly needles that made my skin burn unbearably. I wanted to hear my mother's plans. Yes, I just had to know them! Not for the sake of peace: worries will overtake me anyway, because I already know that she is going to deal with our pursuer.

I had to hear her plans so that I could find her if something happened.

Yes, part of me has already accepted that I will stay in this dark academy for a while, because my mother is really stubborn and stubborn. If she has already decided something, then so be it.

But the other part!

I didn’t know how yet, but I was going to leave this frightening strange prison at any cost. What were your mother's abilities? Did she even have them? And who then was the one who haunted us all these years? Mad scientists with their sights set on a superhero? Decided to blackmail him into fulfilling his every whim, helping him do evil?

Each new idea seemed crazier than the previous one. I knew that I would simply go crazy if I stayed here without any initiative, waiting for news from my mother. Because in the real world, superheroes weren't immortal.

– What will you do with the Hunter? – Madame Pelisey asked measuredly, even casually.

And I realized that because of my own emotions I had again missed part of the conversation. Tired. I was already too tired, and my concentration level kept jumping, allowing me to hear only fragments now.

I probably won't get away with two hours of sleep this time.

Mom’s voice now seemed terribly distant:

– I’ll take him as far as possible and…

– Excuse me, have you seen a white spider here? – a voice unfamiliar to me burst into the silence of the corridor.

Turning around, I saw a handsome guy about the same age two steps away from me. He smiled politely as he looked at me. Apparently, he was waiting for an answer, but there was still no answer, because I practically hovered, my gaze fixed on his face.

It turned out to be nobly pale. Exactly noble, and not like a person with chronic lack of sleep, where black circles under the eyes occupy most of the face.

A neat triangular chin, slightly protruding forward. Expressive, clearly defined lips, large nose and sharp cheekbones. The dark green eyes seemed incredible, bewitching, like emeralds in the reflection of a flame.

A deep, soulful look.

His charm demolished all barriers. Each part of the face alone would never have made anyone handsome, but in him all this wealth was combined surprisingly harmoniously. Even his slightly longer dark hair was combed back in a perfectly casual manner. As if after a four-hour styling session in a beauty salon to advertise a newfangled shampoo.

His smile grew a little wider. Expressive dimples appeared on the cheeks.

Confused, I looked down and finally noticed his shape. Black tailored trousers, a black turtleneck and a burgundy jacket in a calm, deep shade. The latter bore the embroidered gold emblem of the Midnighter Academy: a pointed moon and the shadow of a bat with outstretched wings.

“Spider,” the guy reminded politely. – Furry, scary, white, runs fast.

Hearing the characteristics of the creature the student was looking for, I seemed to wake up and instantly became cold. Apparently, that furry guy was this brunette’s pet, and I…

– No, sorry. “I didn’t see,” I answered, stuttering slightly, feeling how treacherously my cheeks turned red with shame.

More than anything, I hated lying. I felt terribly uncomfortable, awkward, and my eyes just wanted to move to the window to check if the multi-legged creature had crawled away. What if the stalemate could still be saved?

She looked at the guy again. Now he looked at me strangely. My heart beat with triple force. Did he really figure out my deception so quickly and easily?

–Are you new? – he suddenly asked quite peacefully.

A weight has just been lifted off my shoulders. But then there was almost a rockfall because I didn’t have time to answer. My nascent thought was interrupted by a loud knock…

Out the window.

We both turned toward the sound as if on cue. Behind the glass, on a wide metallic tint, a furious blond man, like a thousand wild bees, sat on his haunches, dressed in a black tracksuit with the academy emblem on his jacket. His face seemed even paler than the brunette’s, and his features sharper.

He glared at me with undisguised hatred, intending to make a couple of holes in me at once. Brown eyes seemed almost black due to the corrosive squint. The rounded oval of the face did not add softness at all, the straight nose divided it into two symmetrical halves, and the narrow lips were compressed into a barely noticeable stubborn line. Only the wide dark eyebrows brought dissonance into this harmonious villainous face, because the slicked hair turned out to be light, almost white.

Hearing the brunette's restrained laughter, I almost jumped in surprise. Lightly covering his lips with his palm, he laughed even with his eyes, causing tears to appear in the corners. However, the guy didn’t even think of rushing to the blond’s aid. And then I myself ran to the window to open it.

– You! – the blond roared, climbing out onto the windowsill. Jumping from him to the floor, the guy straightened up and found himself much taller than me. Not even a head – one and a half. – How dare you throw me out the window?!

“I didn’t throw it away, but carefully put it in,” I justified myself, now cowering at the wall opposite the entrance to the office. – And I didn’t know that he, that is, you, that is, that he… I…

– Did you want to be blown away by the wind? Or maybe it was eaten by a bird? – the blond hissed.

His hoarse voice gave me goosebumps. It was unbearable to stand under this gaze, so I decided to escape. In the sense that she took advantage of the fact that the guy was distracted by the brunette’s speech and ran back closer to the office.

To the door behind which, I hoped, I could be saved from the punishing hand of this screamer!

– Come on, Percy. She probably didn't do it on purpose. It is so? – the brunette smiled restrainedly, trying to pull himself together, but chuckles danced in his green eyes.

– So. I didn’t even know that… Well… That spiders can be people. Although no, there is Spider-Man, damn it. Is he really real? – I muttered chaotically, having a persistent desire to hide behind the brunette’s back, because the blond’s destroying gaze found me again.

Now the opposite wall seemed charmingly attractive to me. Actually, having decided to repeat my maneuver, I got caught. More precisely, she froze halfway, because the door to the office of the head of the Academy of Midnighters swung open, revealing to us, probably, the director of this educational institution.

Once I looked into her eyes, I found myself opening my mouth in surprise. I imagined an older woman, strict and prim, dry, like yesterday’s baguette, but in no way the same age as my mother. The corrosive gaze seemed creepy – maybe because of the different eyes? The left one was light brown and more like a cat, and the right one was light gray, with a wide black border.

Dark hair and sparse silver reflecting the light from the lamps. The clothes were a multi-layered complex outfit. A light, flowing floor-length dress in the style of an ancient Roman toga was partially hidden by a brown jacket made of stiff fabric with leather inserts. It looked more like a corset, but at the same time hid the shoulders and neck, had a high, diverging collar and a wide belt at the waist – with a gold oval plaque.

A slight, subtle hint of a smile appeared on Madame Pelisay’s lips.

– And here are my best students. You guys are just in time. I see you have already met Salaman. She is new and from now on will be a first year student at our academy. I…

Without hearing what the director wanted to say, the blond decided to leave. He walked confidently, calmly, and angrily. I barely had time to step aside, otherwise, I swear, he would have simply knocked me out of my place like an insignificant nuisance. His elbow touched my shoulder on the edge, beyond which only one flash would be enough for my restraint to crack at the seams.

“Monsieur Becriv, don’t you think it’s impolite of you to just up and leave when someone is talking to you?” – the woman loudly turned to the guy’s back, narrowing her eyes angrily.

Only these minor changes betrayed her dissatisfaction. It seems that someone was hired for a pencil, and for some reason I was sincerely happy about this.

But she didn’t dare turn around. He ran away – and that's fine. I still needed a spider to accompany me!

Apparently, thinking that the blond’s action had somehow offended me, the woman smiled softly at me.

– Never mind, Sally. Persidy is sometimes out of sorts. But Monsieur Darkwood will probably not refuse to show you the academy and generally help you settle within our walls for the first time. I would tell you everything and show you everything myself, but I’m already in a terrible hurry, in fact I’m late. How will you, Monsieur Darkwood, cope with the task entrusted to you?

“It would be an honor, Madame Pelisey,” the brunette responded, slightly bowing his head in agreement.

“Then I have one more request for you, Nirel.” See that your friend behaves decently in my absence.

“Of course, madam,” the student agreed easily.

Although if I were him, I would be careful about making such promises. Yes, he’s crazy – this blond! Like a savage who fell from a branch! Just think, I sat outside the window for a few minutes. Didn't fall apart!

True, I still felt shame. It was somehow inconvenient. But you can understand me: before my eyes, spiders did not turn into people.

Noting that the parent had not left the office, I became worried, trying to look into the secretary’s room:

–Where is my mother?

“She will write to you once a week, Mademoiselle Dragon,” Madame’s voice became enveloping, soothing.

But I was not going to calm down!

“My last name is Evesey,” she said angrily.

“Not here, Salaman,” the woman objected sternly. – In the Academy of Midnighters you are registered as Dragon – on your father’s side.

Shaking my head to get rid of the question that immediately arose in my thoughts about the second parent, whom I had never seen, I returned to the main topic. I tried not to look at the unwitting witness of our conversation. My voice was firm and expressed determination:

“Madame Pelisey, I don’t want to stay here.” And what should I do at the academy?

The director of the school smiled softly. Her gaze showed condescension, as if she knew in advance that my reaction would be exactly like this.

“In my academy you will learn to live with the one who sits inside you, my dear.” In each of those born at midnight lives the Dark Side, the so-called gift of the ancestors. Your mother said that your abilities have not yet manifested themselves, so within the walls of this educational institution you will have to find them and curb them.

“I don’t have any gift,” I said dryly, without even lying.

There were unusual abilities, yes, but there was no gift.

– And we still have to find out, Salaman. Oh, I forgot to introduce myself. This is what happens when you are in a hurry,” the woman realized with a smile. – Madame Noshli Pelisay. Welcome to the Midnighter Academy.

Chapter 3. Distant ancestors

My guide and I walked out of the main building of the academy, under the light of the lanterns, together with madam. During my descent to the first floor, I learned that my things would be brought directly to the room allocated to me. But not mom. My parent chose not to see me before leaving, which was incredibly offensive. But she sent a note through Madame Pelisey.

However, I didn’t read anything new in it. Aletra Evesey promised to write to me once a week and asked me not to be stubborn, emphasizing that my presence at this academy was the best decision for both of us. This way she wouldn’t worry about me, because I was now under reliable protection.

But she didn’t take into account that I’m not a soulless robot either. Where should I put my excitement? How to get rid of emerging fears?

Having stood on the porch of the academy to wait for Madame Pelisey to disappear behind the gate, I confidently headed towards it, completely ignoring both the gargoyle that was not sparing my nerves and the student assigned to me.

No matter what mom says, we will be safer together. I'll look after her, and she'll look after me. This plan worked perfectly for eighteen years.

And it’s elementary: who will be on duty while mom is sleeping? When I grew up, we took turns doing this service.

No, I understood perfectly well that she was tired. I didn't like the nomadic life either. At first it seemed interesting: new cities, new people, so much unknown ahead. But the complete lack of consistency is annoying. Everyone wants a home where they can return after long travels and feel relaxed and comfortable.

– Hey, where are you going? – the brunette called out to me as soon as I ran down the steps. – The freshman dormitory is on the other side.

“Go there yourself,” I snapped, simultaneously sticking out my tongue to the once again petrified gargoyle. “I’m not going to stay here just because your madam said so.”

“So they brought you here by force?”

“They brought it,” I stubbornly corrected, walking around the flower beds along the stone-paved path.

– I'm sorry.

I looked at the guy in surprise, but only for a moment. His face actually showed genuine regret.

“People rarely come here against their will. Usually due to an unstable gift.

– I don’t have any gift! – I repeated the lie.

“Yes, whatever you say,” he said conciliatoryly. “But you still can’t get out of the gate.” For this you need a pass.

– I can do without a pass. Go about your business already. I definitely don't need spies.

Having reached the gate, I just waved away the guy who again wanted to tell me something. Instead, she touched the gate, intending to simply climb over it. I hoped that my mother was delayed on this side or had not yet managed to drive away from the library, unloading my few things, otherwise it would be more difficult to find her.

But I will find it. Because together and only together we are strong.

However, as soon as I grabbed the metal bars with my other hand, I was abruptly thrown away from the gate. It was so thrown that if I landed on the grass or path, I would definitely have left bruises.

But I was lucky. The brunette softened my fall. By yourself. Having knocked him down, I found us in a flowerbed with shaped grass. Turning over to face him, she found it.

“I told you: you need a pass to go out the gate,” Nirel raised his head.

At the same time, he held me by the waist with both hands.

Resting her palms on his chest to be as far away from his face as possible, she looked around. It threw us back quite a bit – about thirty meters. I wonder if I can get a ladder around here somewhere?

The guy's voice broke into my thoughts:

– I understand that you are angry now.

I was truly surprised.

–Am I angry? Yes, I'm furious. Mom left me here, and she went to hell.

“She probably had reasons for this.” I'm sure if she could, she wouldn't leave you here.

Pulling me close again, he suddenly rolled with me. Now I was lying on the grass, which made me both embarrassed and taken aback, because his face was again unacceptably close, and he was hanging over me, supporting the weight of his body in his arms.

– You don’t even know her! – I was indignant, floundering under him.

In order to free himself, he had to turn on his side and with an effort, out of stubbornness, tear one of his hands off the ground. This was the only way I was able to roll away and get to my feet.

The student then stood up.

– Can we get a ladder? Or a high stepladder?

Carefully suppressing the embarrassment that arose out of nowhere, I took a closer look at the surrounding surroundings. I looked among the flower beds, grass, benches and bushes for something that I could use to build a lifting tower. The benches were not suitable for this purpose: their metal legs were embedded in the paths.

– Very unlikely. And even if something similar can be found at the academy, no one will give you anything. Let's go, I'll take you to the dorm. There is still a little time before dinner to settle into the new place.

– Nirel… That’s your name, right? – I clarified, just in case, and, having received a confident nod, continued: – Nirel, you need to go and settle in. And I need to get a pass. Where can I get it?

– Only with the freshman curator. And for this you need to go to the hostel.

A mocking smile appeared on his lips. And so I understood its nature. To get the pass, I still have to do what I just tried my best to avoid.

“I’m sure you’ll like it here,” he softened, motioning for me to go forward.

– But not me.

Walking around him in a wide circle, I walked with an independent air to the two-story building closest to the academy. It was also built from gray stone. Under the night sky it seemed dark and gloomy.

“The freshman building is on the other side,” they politely informed me, but I directly felt that the guy was laughing at that moment.

Personally, I was not laughing. Time irrevocably slipped through our fingers, and the longer we walked along the paths past benches and lampposts, falling under the shadows of trees with voluminous foliage, the stronger the confidence grew in me that I would not make it in time.

I won’t be able to get near our rental car before my mom leaves.

–Are you a freshman too? – I asked, looking sideways at my guide.

I felt comfortable walking next to him in silence, but my innate curiosity did not allow me to remain silent. Nirel was like those who were called “golden boys” in the schools where I studied. Ideal appearance, ideal manners and enormous pride tied to immense arrogance.

If these guys didn't have a brain at all, they were incredibly annoying. And if everything was in order with the thought, then they evoked fear on an instinctive level. Because they made wonderful manipulators.

I didn’t yet understand which nut I got.

– Freshman? – the student was restrainedly surprised, defiantly raising his right eyebrow. – No, I'm already on the third. There are two and a half years left until graduation.

– And this one?

Hinting at Spider-Man, I played with my eyebrows.

– This? – Nirel asked, frowning. -Are you talking about Percy? He's also in third. He just can’t come to terms with the fact that I have a better gift of premonition than he does.

A chuckle escaped the expressive lips, and with an effort of will I forced myself to look at his eyes.

“I thought that I wouldn’t be able to find him in the form of a spider.”

– Find… Were you playing hide and seek, or what?

I was horrified. Is there really nothing to do here?

– You can say so. Only the territory is not limited and there are no rules. Each of us has abilities. So we checked them.

– Like acute vision or hearing? – I suggested casually, trying not to be seen as being overly interested.

The guy thought for a moment.

– Let’s put it this way: what do you know about Midnighters anyway?

As promised, by this time the guy had escorted me to the freshman building, but I was in no hurry to go inside the gray two-story building.

I understood that running to the gate, rustling with slippers, no longer made sense. Now you need to act with a cool head, with a clearly defined plan. This technique worked best. At least with mom.

Sitting down on a bench opposite the high porch, I decided to find out as much information as possible. Moreover, Nirel answered willingly, did not hide anything and tried to add more details, as if he were explaining to a child.

I was not a child, but my knowledge was characterized by one single word – meager. There was nothing I could do to make the story easier for my interlocutor. I knew almost nothing that was really, in my opinion, important.

I only learned today that there is a territory hidden from human eyes. After a sleepless night spent on the road, a hectic morning with changing cars, and a not very tasty lunch at an eatery with the telling name “Massacre,” my mother brought me to the central city library in Ashwool.

This building was very different from its counterparts on the street. The old houses here were demolished one after another due to their unsuitable condition, and in their place two-story townhouses with an attic under the roof were built. Red brick, dark brown roof. The houses with several apartments looked cozy and well-kept, but the library did not correspond at all to their architecture, or to the new look of the area as a whole.

No, this building also looked clean and tidy. But at the same time, it felt like Her Majesty the Queen in a fluffy crinoline dress was stuck between modern families from an advertisement for toothpaste or mayonnaise. I was even afraid to go inside. No, I wasn’t afraid that the walls would suddenly collapse, but I was sincerely worried whether we could even go there.

What if, instead of a library, there has long been a museum with the most valuable exhibits from the times of that same queen?

I was wrong. Inside, the treasury of knowledge resembled the most ordinary library, as I imagined it in my imagination. Not a school one, of course, there were many times more books here, but it was not forced to the point of “impossible to pass through.”

Along the walls there were neat, identical cabinets made of light wood, up to the ceiling. They stood inside the hall in such a way that they created endlessly stretching rows, at the very end of which only dull darkness could be seen.

To the right of the entrance, behind the long counter, a dressing room with elongated floor hangers with dozens of hooks was visible through a wide window. And right in front of us there was a narrow table, behind which, under the dim light of a table lamp, a stern older lady was revealed.

Everything seemed strict: the neat bun of gray hair, the look, and the light gray dress, which I could see only after the woman stood up.

– A psycho has been chasing us for eighteen years, and we came to the library? – I was puzzled, shivering under the gaze of almost colorless gray eyes. – What do you want to find here, mom? A guide on the topic “how to properly bury the corpse of a maniac”?

Mom tried to stop me:

– Don’t be sarcastic and stop being angry.

– But you don’t explain anything! Although I promised! – I was indignant, raising my voice.

“It’s not customary to shout here, mademoiselle,” the librarian croaked colorlessly.

And I had a persistent desire to poke her with a stick from a distance to ask: “Is she even alive?” Because of the echo, the voice seemed otherworldly, as if distant and at the same time three-dimensional.

Turning to me, the parent hugged me tightly, squeezing my shoulders. And when she pulled away, her gaze found my eyes. She looked carefully, piercingly, directly, as only she could.

If she now says that we will now live here, I will certainly bite her.

“Sally, I just don’t have that much time to tell you everything right now.” One question will lead to another. This conversation is not for one minute,” she tenderly touched my cheek with her palm. “But I want you to know, daughter, that I love you very much.” Everything that I have done, am doing and will do is solely for your sake.

– Why did we come to the library? – I persistently repeated my question, because the answer to it was the simplest.

And something else will definitely not follow him. Just one word: information, books, manual. About how to survive autonomously in the forest for a whole year if a maniac is chasing you.

But my mother couldn’t fit it into one word:

– Because this is where there is a passage to places where ordinary people cannot get.

– But we are ordinary people!

I became stubborn. She became stubborn because she wanted to finally hear at least some specifics. The recognition that I had been secretly waiting for for the last four years – ever since I realized that I was a little, but still different from normal people. Ever since I began to subconsciously guess that the maniac was somehow connected with my abilities.

Guess, yes. But don’t believe in it, don’t think about it, don’t reflect. Out of fear of being right, I cut off my guesses in the bud.

The lady in gray was clearly starting to get angry:

– Silence.

“One more second, please,” Mom asked, turning around for a moment, after which she said with a soft smile: “No, Sally.” We are not ordinary people. At least I do. I'm Midnight, honey. One of those who never sleeps at night. Of those who maintain order on this side of the world and on the other.

– Which one? By Dark? – I remembered her words in the car.

– This is what I was talking about. Behind one answer there is the next question, but I really don’t have time now, although I would really like to finally get rid of this burden. One thing I can say for sure: you will get all the answers to your questions elsewhere. Then when you are safe. We're on the second floor.

The last statement she made was no longer for me. Hearing this simple phrase, the Gray Lady silently took her chair again and feigned painstaking work. We freely walked past her desk to the massive gilded door that was located on the right.

The simple curls on the canvas sparkled under the dim light of the lamps. The door looked like the entrance to a treasury and nothing else, but behind it there was a wide staircase of two flights, with carved railings and finials in the form of folded wings of bats.

I even dared to touch one.

Having gone up to the second floor, we just as easily found ourselves in another room. It was almost no different from the previous one, but what is most striking is that we were greeted by the same Gray Lady with a face that did not express any emotions at all.

There were two options: either I had gone crazy, or my mother had gone crazy. However, it could not be ruled out that we had both been out of our minds for a long time.

Questions, questions, questions… Biting my tongue, I kept expecting that we would now meet with someone from the top of this mental hospital. With someone who will quickly and succinctly insert all the necessary information into my head, and then we will go on a new trip. Somewhere where the maniac who was pursuing us will definitely not get to.

But reality, as always, did not agree with the fantasies.

Silently nodding to the librarian, my mother took out a dagger with large red stones in the hilt from her jacket and suddenly turned to me. More precisely, to the door behind me, and therefore I had to actively step aside.

I watched, feeling confused, as she inserted the blade into the gap between the door and the floor. Repeating the outline of the doorway with its point, the mother straightened up and opened the door, turning the round gilded handle.

She let me go ahead.

I went down with caution. So far nothing has changed in the surroundings. The same staircase, the same walls and tops. Even the hall on the first floor is still the same. And the Gray Lady is the same. Stands there, doesn't blink.

Looking at my mother, I received a warm, indulgent smile. And it was a no-brainer that she knew something that I had no idea about yet. But the longer I had to wait for the explosion, the more terrible the pictures of my near future became.

And yet I was the first to go out onto the porch. She went out, looked around and almost counted the steps. The parent caught me by the shoulders literally at the last moment.

Her gaze again expressed understanding. She seemed to know how much confusion was in me now and what feelings and doubts were overwhelming me.

Now I was going down much slower. Firstly, because it finally dawned on me: instead of bright day, we were greeted by night. Secondly, the street was radically different from Ashwool Street. Instead of sprawling construction projects and brand new townhouses, there were long Victorian-style houses with white trim, carved corners and low railings around the balconies.

Two horses harnessed to a dark carriage rushed past us. Here and there there were passers-by who seemed to have stepped out of the pages of a history textbook or the frames of a pseudo-historical film.

“You will study here,” my mother said, as soon as we stopped at the gates of the academy, behind which stood a gloomy tall building with spiers and ugly gargoyles on the ledges.

“I’ve already graduated from school,” I reminded, forcing myself to stay in place by an effort of will.

It was simply unbearable to want to take even a couple of steps back.

– This is not a school, Sally. This is an academy for Midnighters.

Taking a large burgundy rectangular map from the inside pocket of her jacket, she placed it directly into the open mouth of the stone bat. The mouth instantly closed and opened with a click, leaving two impressive holes on the card. Then the gate next to the gate creaked open.

I was in no hurry to go inside.

“But you yourself said that I’m not like that.” What will I learn here then?

– Everything that I didn’t tell you about, because I recklessly believed that this side would never touch you. But she touched, which means you must be prepared for the fact that our world is not as simple as it seems at first glance. And he won’t find you here,” she was the first to go through the gate.

Without doubting for a moment, I immediately followed her, hoping to finally get an answer to the main question. Clenching my fingers into fists, I felt that the solution was already close.

– Who, mom? Who have we been hiding from all this time?

Silently continuing our way past the working fountain, on which stood an ugly stone gargoyle, she nevertheless responded dully, as soon as we reached the steps of the main building:

– From the Hunter.

But it didn’t become one gram clearer.

“Hey, you seem to be lost in thought,” Nirel touched my hand, pulling me out of recent memories.

Catching the attentive gaze of his green eyes, I directly and unvarnishedly blurted out what I knew about the Midnighters. There were only two theses: for some reason they do not sleep at night and maintain order in the world on both sides.

“Very generalized, of course,” he drawled slightly dissatisfied. – That is, you don’t know anything at all about where you ended up.

“Actually,” I confirmed dully. – We entered the library from one side and left from the other. I thought I had lost my mind.

Having carefully examined me from head to toe, the student made an unexpected conclusion:

– So you are one of the Coming Ones. – But, probably catching the misunderstanding on my face, he added: – From those who came from the world of people. And I’m wondering why your clothes and shoes are so strange. Okay, then let's start with the main thing. Our ancestors were not people.

“Of course, not people,” I agreed, suspecting that we would now plunge somewhere much deeper than the Stone Age. – Everyone knows that we descended from monkeys.

Nirel did not deny this fact:

– Once upon a time – perhaps. But then our ancestors chose a different path. They, Sally, became vampires.

Chapter 4. Secrets of the Midnighters

I tried to digest this information. I honestly tried, but even after what I had already learned and seen, I didn’t expect to hear something like that.

Simply because vampires are not superheroes at all. This is a pale, bony likeness of a person, living in a crypt, sleeping in a coffin and not knowing what toothpaste, solarium and manicure are.

“My mother is not a vampire,” I objected, having recovered from the first shock.

Smiling indulgently, Nirel corrected me:

– Not such a vampire as you used to think. Almost none of us have fangs anymore, because the need to drink blood has simply disappeared over the centuries. They don't grow anymore, see? – He showed me his even white teeth. – Now we take away unnecessary emotions from people in a different way.

– Do you take away unnecessary emotions? How? For what? – she asked, even more amazed.

So far everything has only become more confusing. Vampires without fangs and the need to drink blood are some kind of toothless vegetarians.

– It’s simple: people with an unstable psyche have moments in life when emotions take over them so much that they lose reason. Then they do things that affect the rest of the world. With their emotions they change the lives of other people, and mostly exclusively for the bad. For example, they commit a crime or become the cause of a series of accidents that lead to someone’s death. We – vampires – take away these “extra” emotions from them, thereby maintaining balance in the human world. Moreover, various emotions may turn out to be “superfluous” – even happiness.

– And before this you had to drink blood? – I clarified, grimacing.

My imagination quickly painted the entire procedure in the most vivid colors, including the nasty taste of metal in my mouth. I definitely wouldn’t agree to such an abomination, because…

What if a person is sick with something? Or haven't washed for a week?

I shuddered with disgust.

“It happened, but not for the last three generations,” Nirel confirmed. – Now, fortunately, this is not required. We have learned to do without this procedure. Now we take away dangerous emotions with the help of touch. Prolonged touch and slight hypnosis. If such emotions are not drawn out, then a skew will constantly occur, first in one direction, then in the other. Of course, problems happen despite the existing protocol of actions, but it’s better to do at least something than to do nothing, right?

I nodded, agreeing with the guy. If he was telling the truth, then the matter smacked of a fair amount of pessimism, because something out of the ordinary was happening in the world every day.

But on the other hand, I briefly imagined what the Earth would look like now if vampires had never existed. Probably, we would all simply die out and everything would go from scratch: bacteria, fish, monkeys, dinosaurs, cavemen. Maybe nature learned from its mistakes and therefore created vampires in the next round?

Actually, I asked the third-year student exactly this question.

“Maybe,” he answered slyly. – In any case, we are the protectors and balance of this world. And not only us. All Midnighters.

– Is there anyone else? Spiders? – I guessed.

But it turned out to be wrong. I'm not feeling good today. It’s understandable, there are so many new discoveries in less than a day, so much contradictory and at the same time incredible information that it’s time to go to bed as soon as possible with dreams that tomorrow will be different – normal.

– Not spiders. Transformation is Percy's special gift. Each vampire has his own special gift, but not all of them reveal it right away. For example, it hasn’t shown up for me yet.

Smiling with slight sadness, the guy quickly returned to our main topic:

– In addition to vampires, Midnighters also include werewolves, witches and hunters.

Having caught on to the most important word, I fidgeted on the bench with impatience.

– Hunters? Everything about the rest is more or less clear. Witches can cast spells, werewolves turn into animals, and hunters? Who is this anyway?

Nirel sighed heavily.

– Those for whom our existence does not allow us to live in peace. They consider us monsters and are trying in every possible way to rid the world of our presence. But don't get scared ahead of time. Let's just say that no one has seen them on this side of the border for a long time – since they crossed into the human world, so there is nothing interesting about them. Maybe they degenerated a long time ago.

Hearing the last phrase, with which the guy probably wanted to cheer me up, I smiled wryly. Because now I knew for sure that one annoying hunter still existed in the human world. Mom herself told me about this today, and I just didn’t know what to do with this information now.

How dangerous were they? Have they really degenerated or are they still hiding to hunt down vampires one by one? And my mother? Is she a vampire, a witch or a werewolf?

– Nirel, if I’m still a Midnighter, then who am I? Vampire or witch?

“Vampire,” he answered without a shadow of doubt.

– Why did you decide that? – I became stubborn.

It's not that I want to be a witch. In principle, I would prefer to remain a purebred person, but if I have to choose…

– Because Madame Pelisay named you Salaman Dragon. Your family is the oldest and largest among all vampire families.

– So I have many relatives? – I was puzzled.

Accustomed to the fact that my only family member was my mother, I did not expect such a catch. On the one hand, this news made me immensely happy, because I always wanted to have grandparents, brothers and sisters, and all these noisy, cheerful holidays when large families gather and give many, many gifts. But on the other hand…

Relatives could end up with foulbrood.

The third-year student brought me down to earth again:

– Not sure. Dragon is the common name of the genus, but from the first Dragon, according to history, many branches came. If I'm not mistaken, he had fourteen sons. There were also daughters, but each got married and received a new clan name. It’s better to ask your mother about your relatives when the opportunity arises.

“If it turns up,” I sighed, remembering how I had been waiting for answers for eighteen years, and how I still haven’t received some.

But I still had some clue. Madame Pelisay said that I am Dragon on my father's side. I wonder if he's still alive? And if so, why have I never seen him? Even if their relationship with his mother was truly accidental and for one night, had he really not been overcome by curiosity over all the years to find out who was born to him?

Or did his mother simply not tell him that she was pregnant?

– Listen, but it turns out that vampires can have children? – this fact perhaps struck me most of all.

This is the complete opposite of what was described in books and films!

Fun sparkled in Nirel's eyes.

– Naturally. We need to reproduce somehow. Any questions?

– But of course!

Sitting more comfortably, I turned my whole body to the guy.

– When we entered the library, it was daytime, but we left here at night. What's going on here? Are time zones different?

In response, he rolled his eyes, as if I had said complete nonsense. But I decided not to be offended, because it’s interesting.

– You could also say time zones. It is immediately obvious that you are one of the Coming Ones. It's always night on the Dark Side, Sally. All day long and at any time – and this has been the case for more than two centuries. It was the witches who cast witchcraft because those who were born exactly at midnight – at the junction between the days – do not feel well in the light of day. But vampires react to the sun more sharply than others. Our concentration decreases, drowsiness, loss of strength, and vulnerability appear. We are weakening before our eyes. And, by the way, about the eyes: they are sensitive to the sun. I heard that our people on the other side wear dark glasses or special hard lenses.

Lenses… I almost jumped on the spot with realization, because the guy told the absolute truth. Since childhood, my eyes would water and hurt terribly just by looking at the sun. I didn’t even remember when I first put on lenses: I was too small, but since then I haven’t gone outside without them.

The first thing I did in the morning was wash my face and insert my lenses. But even with them, our windows were always covered with thick curtains.

Nirel was right about everything. Even though these lenses were made of hard matter. They felt somewhere between glass and plastic.

Twitching, I wanted to show him the lenses, peacefully waiting in the wings in the pocket of my overalls, but I stopped myself in time. If I wanted everyone around me to consider me an ordinary person and let me go on all four sides in peace, then I shouldn’t show off my features.

Because any of these features already made me a vampire, and therefore a prisoner of the Midnighter Academy.

Since my guide turned out to be so talkative, chewing his lower lip, I nevertheless decided to ask a frank question:

– Nirel, are we monsters?

Thoughts about hunters haunted me. It’s not for nothing that they decided to exterminate vampires? Maybe there was something in history for which toothless vegetarians still felt ashamed?

– Sally, do I look like a monster? – they asked me unexpectedly softly, but quite seriously.

I defiantly looked him up and down.

– You? You are not.

– And you don't. So we are not monsters. Your mother said it right: we maintain balance in the human world. We help those who are on the verge of disaster, you know?

Taking my hand gently, he lightly stroked the back of my hand with his thumb. I froze in shock, afraid to even take another breath.

“Are you taking my emotions away now?” – she squeezed out, listening to her own body.

– What? No. Of course not. I just took your hand to support you. It must be difficult for you right now.

The third year student smiled humorously.

Instantly taking my hand away from him, I turned away and ruffled my feathers. All I needed right now was a guy who understood everything. I suddenly felt like I was at an appointment with a psychoanalyst, although I had no idea how they actually do all this, and not in a television show.

Taking a deep breath, she slowly exhaled. I needed to calm down and clear my head from unnecessary thoughts. After all, this guy had nothing to do with my problems, but rather was trying to help, so being angry at him made me act like an idiot.

“It’s not difficult for me,” I admitted, looking at the porch, because it turned out to be easier to talk that way. – I get used to new places pretty quickly, but the problem is that I don’t want to be here. And I don’t want to be a Midnighter either. My mother… She left now. And I can only guess where. At the same time, I don’t know what’s on her mind, will we see each other again, you know? I'm worried about her and…

Feeling other people's hands on my shoulders, I immediately tensed. I really didn’t expect Nirel to suddenly hug me and gently pull me towards her. His jacket, turtleneck and leather smelled deliciously of something woody, which made you want to run your nose over the exposed part of his neck.

He scared me. My reaction to him and his hugs scared me. The last tickling sensation in my chest also excited me at the same time, but at the same time I felt warm. In his strong hands it felt good and cozy, reliable and comfortable, as if we had already known each other for a thousand years.

I wonder how long vampires live? Here you will inadvertently believe in the transmigration of souls.

He gently stroked my back.

– Everything will be fine, Sally. Like I said, I'm sure your mom had good reasons for leaving you here. But look at it this way: you, like other students, need to develop your abilities. So do just this and by your next meeting you will be able to convince her that you have already learned everything and you have nothing to do here.

Pulling away from the guy, I looked into his emerald eyes and honestly admitted:

“I feel like a boy with a scar.”

– Pf-f-f! – he said mockingly. “You’re much cooler, believe me.” Could he do that?

A moment, and the guy was not on the bench. Turning my head, I saw him already standing on the porch of the freshman building.

– Or so? – he shouted, instantly moving to the fountain.

I even stood up from the bench, my mouth parted in amazement. I definitely saw this for the first time.

– Or so?

Now the guy stood on a thick branch of the tree closest to the bench, relaxing with one hand on the mighty trunk. All this time he moved so quickly that my eyes did not have time to catch anything at all. I stood there, hit on the head like a dust bag, sincerely admiring the abilities of others.

Abilities that brought Nirel straight to me. The last time he stopped a breath away from me – so that I felt his warm breath on my lips.

– Or so? – he whispered, looking first into my eyes, then at my lips.

– Salaman Dragon! – a commanding female voice suddenly called out to me.

Having jumped away from the brunette a good half meter, I looked at the dissatisfied one. She stood right on the porch of the freshman building and held the front door ajar.

– How long will it take to wait for you? You should have come for bed linen an hour ago!

“I’m coming,” I muttered, briefly looking at my guide. – I went. Thank you for telling me so much.

– Dragon! – they hurried me impatiently.

– In general, thank you.

As I climbed the steps to the porch, I allowed myself to turn around at the very door. Nirel continued to stand under the tree right next to the bench. His gaze was fixed on my face, which probably reflected regret and annoyance.

Not because I seem to have lost the kiss. That's exactly what I didn't want to think about right now. But because she didn’t find out anything about the “Recorder”.

When talking with Madame Pelisey, my mother asked her not to let me near this unknown thing, so that I would not suddenly find out who my father was.

But why? Why shouldn't I know this?

This was the second question she never answered.

Chapter 5. Spider webs

Someone unceremoniously touched my nose. It tickled the very tip, forcing him to twitch it to get rid of the irritant.

But it didn't work out.

That's why I opened my eyes. She opened it and saw above her, instead of a light ceiling, a bent green plant with small round eyes, a narrow slit that replaced its mouth, and limbs.

The leaves of this creature were wide, but about two-thirds of the length were occupied by elongated arches, similar to fringes or the experiment of a child who was given scissors for the first time. A kind of Frankenstein, created equally from howea and monstera.

If I saw him for the first time now, I would certainly scream in horror, waking up the entire freshman dormitory. But we met this green monster last night, when he tried with all his might to escape from his pot, scattering soil on the only work table in the room.

And on the bedside tables. They stood on either side of the table, next to the single beds. Immediately behind the table there was a large semicircular window with a wide sill, and opposite there was a wardrobe and a door.

The latter led to a common corridor. One of two on the second floor. The layout here was circular.

– Oh, sorry, sorry! I left him for two minutes, and he was already right there. He jumped onto the nightstand again,” the neighbor who returned to the room apologized, but her voice immediately changed, becoming menacing, commanding: “Come on, tidy up your appendages!”

Raising myself on my elbow, I was in no hurry to throw back the black blanket under which I slept. With an inexplicable smile, she watched the green-eyed whirlwind. The red curls jumped up and down funny while D-Rolly scolded her misbehaving pet. The neighbor did not have outstanding height, like me, but she still looked menacing.

In general, she did not at all resemble a pale-skinned vampire. When I saw her for the first time yesterday, I thought that I had been put in the same room with a witch. With a very strange, fussy witch who has a unique gift for controlling plants. She even knew how to revive her charges and endow them with a bit of intelligence.

The numerous books occupying all the free space on her half of the room definitely hinted at the fact that she was still a nerd, but I only saw this as a plus. D-Rolly really knew a lot and was a real treasure to me personally.

As soon as I checked in, she immediately showed me the dining room. While we were having dinner, she told us about local customs. It turned out that the academy occupied vast territories and was divided into four parts by high, enchanted fences. Moreover, not only the territory is divided, but also the main building of the academy.

Part of this gloomy colossus with a separate entrance belonged to werewolf students, another part belonged to witches and witchers – we shared a fence with them, and the last part was empty.

“They used to train hunters there,” she explained, wrapping spaghetti around her fork. – Now all three branches of the academy use this land for common needs and common holidays.

– I wonder why they suddenly decided to leave? – I was curious, trying to find out as many details as possible about the mysterious hunters.

– They say that they equated themselves with people. They stopped considering themselves Midnighters and rebelled against the entire midnight world. Until they left, they were busy catching offenders, and then we all suddenly became criminals for them.

– There must have been some reason for this?

I pushed D-Rolly in the right direction with all my might.

– Don't know. But personally, I wouldn't want to run into any of them. What they tell about them in class instills real fear. Have you finished eating? You need to get in line for the showers.

There were two bathrooms on each floor of the two-story building. In any of them you could find four sinks and a large full-length mirror above them, two showers behind separate doors and two offices for deep thoughts.

Considering that two students lived in each room, and there were eight rooms on the floor in total, this was enough to avoid standing in line for hours.

I was also immensely pleased that the second floor of the building was allocated exclusively for girls. The guys lived on the first floor, and, unlike us, they had noise until the very night yesterday. However, I also heard girls’ voices, which means we were allowed to move between floors.

Between floors, but not between rooms. Both the first and second floors had their own common living rooms, and they were the place for gatherings. The neighbor also showed me the room for washing and drying clothes, the storage room where they got clean towels if yours with the academy emblem became unusable, as well as the curator’s room.

There were five buildings in our part of the academy, depending on the number of years of study. There was a separate building dedicated to the work of healers. They were witches and witchers, and sometimes students were transferred here for practice. This is how D-Rolly met our neighbors in the territory.

– You won’t get lost alone, right? – the neighbor asked for the second time, as soon as we returned from the showers to our room. “I need to transfer Rory to the witches’ side before class.” They have sun there, and it grows better,” she explained, as if apologizing.

I took out from the common closet the uniform the curator gave me yesterday.

– Go, of course. Meet me in the dining room.

Grabbing her ward, for whom she was either writing a course paper or doing a lab, the redhead ran out of the room like a whirlwind. I just shook my head and smiled, looking after her.

In general, I was given three sets of casual clothes. The first is red and black: black turtleneck, black trousers and burgundy jacket. The second one is completely black – a sports one, consisting of pants and a T-shirt with long sleeves.

But I was going to wear the third one.

It consisted of a simple white shirt, a blue jacket, a short skirt and a matching tie. It seems to be strict, but not entirely official. Rather mischievous.

Having changed my clothes, putting on sneakers instead of the soft slippers given to me, I went out into the corridor. Having greeted the curator of our floor, I preferred to quickly hide from under her gaze, because Mademoiselle Ornina Welby fully lived up to her name.

Dark-haired, brown-eyed, a little on the body and about my height. She created a pleasant impression until she opened her mouth. The woman screamed at her charges from the bottom of her heart, without really understanding who was right and who was wrong.

But that was precisely her job. Maintaining discipline was why she was here in the first place. However, she could equally be called a business executive. Bed linen, towels, household products and uniforms – she was responsible for all of this, as well as for the safety of furniture and repairs in our rooms.

But the most important thing is that she was the one who decided who would receive permission to visit the city. One-time passes were given to students only for good grades. I found out about this when yesterday I asked to be allowed to go pick up my office for a while to study. I tried to cheat, but they simply gave me a whole box of everything I needed.

Then I decided to go the other way. She asked me to be released into the human world for an hour in order to give my mother important documents that she had forgotten in my backpack, which was a lie. But she was refused again. Because I didn’t yet have a dagger – an artifact enchanted by witches.

It was issued to all graduate students, and only with its help could one open a passage to the Light Side using the doorway on the second floor of the city library.

True, there was another way to get to the other side – together with a teacher for a practical lesson. That is, whatever one may say, in the current conditions I had only one option – to study. Of course, unless I come up with something else.

Having passed the stairs, I, along with other first-year students, climbed out onto a small porch. I felt unusual going out under the starry sky. The body said that it was early morning, but the eyes saw something else – a solid dark canvas and the absence of the moon. And also lanterns, trees and darkened paths among flowering bushes and neat flower beds.

The air smelled of something sweet, but unobtrusive. The slight coolness did not constrain the body. On the contrary, I felt the freshness that happens on an early summer morning, when the dust of the day is still nailed to the roads.

I felt great. For the first time I didn’t put on lenses, and without them it was as if I could even see more clearly, sharper. And I was breathing completely differently – more freely, as if a rope to which a heavy stone had been tied had finally been removed from my neck.

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