The dark veil of smoke hid the Volcano behind them. In the vapor-filled air, the smell of burning was barely perceptible. Or Kostya had simply gotten used to it.

The raging sea was boiling close at hand, devouring the crimson lava streaming down the slope. Like a giant, ever-hungry mouth, the surf chewed at the fire, water, earth, and air, mixing them together in this four-element hell.

Even higher up the slope from where they stood, the air was hot like in a sauna.

They arrived in time.

Juel—his little sun, his ever-silent, dear girl—made it in time. Even though it took her whole life. Even though the ruthless, rushing artist known as Time had changed her face until it was unrecognizable, crooked her back and sucked out almost all of her life, reducing his beloved to a dried mummy stretched with parchment-like skin. All in just a couple of days.

All of that no longer mattered. Juel was here, on the seashore, life still flickering inside her like a flashlight using the last drops of energy from the dying battery.

The cave entrance was partially blocked by stones rolling down the slope. It was a small crevice with musty breath from underground coming out of it.

Too small for even a child to get through, Kostya thought. How is Khoronum going to make it? Or…or does he not actually need to step out? The Volcanite just mentioned saying goodbyes.

Juel took a hesitant step and clutched at the crevice edges, straining her faded, weak-sighted eyes to stare into the cold darkness of the caves as her lips mouthed, “Khoronum.”

An endless minute passed before Khoronum appeared in the crevice. He looked like a stooping, long-haired, old man in a gray robe. Staring blindly over his mother’s head, he groped at the stones while Juel was still clutching at them beside her.

At last, their fingers touched. Juel shivered all over as though suddenly getting cold and, whispering a few words, collapsed on her side.

Kostya barely had time to catch her before she hit the ground. Khoronum was still gripping her fingers, his empty, gray eyes staring into the sky, which was just as gray and empty. As blind as he was: the Lord of Caves. Tears crept down his time-worn cheeks, just like the big raindrops that crept down the time-worn rocks.

The gloomy sky was crying with Khoronum.

Freeing Juel’s hand from his iron grip, Kostya put her weightless body down on the ground. The cooling raindrops fell on his hot head, warming up as they crept down his face…

…tasting salty. They dropped off his chin and fell onto Juel’s waxen forehead as though trying to warm it.

Wax melts when warmed. Maybe…maybe my tears will melt her?

Melt back to life.

Closing his eyes, he saw a pug-nosed girl of about four reaching out her tiny hands for him to put her on his shoulders.

It was just a week ago.

A wail escaped from him. He was crying clumsily, like a man who hadn’t cried since childhood, howling in a rasping voice that was foreign to him.

The childlike grimace from crying felt strange. His muscles could barely make the right face.

With his wails pouring out, a long-stored burden was eased off his heart.

“Give me Asp, Father,” Khoronum rasped.

Kostya looked up. He had almost forgotten the Lord of Caves. And the band of leather around his wrist.

“Please,” Khoronum said.

Remembering the Volcanite’s words, Kostya removed the band and approached the crevice.

Khoronum was staring blindly into the leaden sky as his gnarled fingers reached for Kostya, who put the leather band into them.

Khoronum, his gray eyes inherited from Juel, clutched a fist around the item and turned to Kostya. “Bury her. Please.”

With those words, the Lord of Caves backed away, taking Asp with him. “I will call you once I’m done.” His muffled voice came from inside the cave.

Kostya looked around.

The rocky, uneven ground was too hard for digging a grave. And he didn’t have a shovel anyway. But there were a lot of stones. Coming up to the foot of the mountain, he began to take the smaller rocks out and put them together.

Soon he had about forty and a shallow, elongated bed in the ground where he had removed them.

He put Juel’s body in it, then began to put the stones around her, using large and small ones alike, whichever he came across first.

Bend down. Pick up a stone. Turn. Put the stone in. Straighten up.

Bend down. Pick up a stone. Take a step. Put the stone in. Straighten up.

Bend down. Pick up a stone. Take two steps. Put the stone in. Straighten up.

As his buzzing mind was calmed by this monotonous work, he remembered the recent battle with the Tamer.

***

A very strange battle.

Once the black, fork-nosed crocodile carried Khoronum away into the cave, a buzzing cloud of hornets came up from behind the hills, whirling faster and faster. Then it tilted to the side, and a dozen humming insects came apart to attack Asp.

The serpent arched like a question mark and flapped its wings powerfully, spitting a jet of lava at the insects and burning them in the air. The charred, wriggling bodies with smoking wings rained down, thudding onto the stones.

Two hornets reached Asp, clanging against his metal scales like bullets, but they immediately caught fire and dropped like broken coils.

Without skipping a beat came the thunderclap of Angel’s whip.

The space around Kostya vibrated like a guitar string pulled taut, cleaving everything in its way.

Before the whip’s springy echo reverberated off the Volcano, the serpent’s right-wing bulged with the blackness of newly forged metal, and the angel’s left wing caught on fire.

The battle was over just as suddenly as it had begun.

Feeling the small bags hanging from his neck, the starry-eyed Tamer backed up a step, hiding behind the hills.

Kostya put the leather band around his wrist and headed off toward the volcano, its other side washed by the sea.

Juel was already in her eighties.

***

He covered her face last, with the smallest stones he could find. Then he put a large boulder at her head and looked back at the crevice in the cave.

No one was there.

He sat down next to his love’s grave and stretched his tired legs. The thought of putting up a cross occurred to him, but the Christian symbol seemed so out-of-place in this crazy world. And no materials to make it anyway.

“Father,” a voice above him said. Kostya was startled. He was sure he’d been alone just a moment ago. How are they doing that?

He stood up, driving away the thought that this old man was his son.

The same leaden stare, the same wrinkles. And same gnarly fingers handing him Asp.

Kostya took the serpent and twirled it around. It looked just the same as before. He squeezed the rough leather sides in case anything was hidden inside. Nothing.

What kind of gift was this?

Kostya looked at the dark gap of the crevice. It was empty. Khoronum was gone.

He turned away and looked down at the serpent again, scrutinizing it for any changes.

No. Nothing.

He was about to wrap the band around his wrist as usual when it suddenly began to grow. Soon there was a large, dragon-like, crimson serpent spreading its wings in front of him.

Kostya looked around for any dangers, noting that time hadn’t been frozen this time and that he remained in his body.

The shore was empty.

The serpent turned to the sea and lay down on its belly.

From the dark cave behind Kostya’s back, a muffled voice came. “Have a safe flight.”

***

Riding Asp was instantly comfortable. Some of the serpent’s scales would fold in under Kostya’s weight, while others would bristle up, making for good holds for his hands. His feet rested against the similarly bristling scales at the bottom of the serpent’s neck. It felt a lot like riding a motorcycle.

With a heavy flap of wings, Asp soared over the shore, leaving the cave exit, the boiling fire-and-water border, and the smoke-enveloped bulk of the Volcano far below.

The air became cold.

The wind roared in his ears.

Every flap of wings raised him slightly into the air and then dropped him to the serpent’s back, like riding through turbulence.

The gray sea looked like a stretch of crumpled foil.

At the height where Kostya could no longer see the waves, his ears plugged up. He swallowed to release the pressure.

The serpent would reach the Magisterium in several hours.