Vampire

"THE GREAT HUNT IS OVER!

The Great Monster Hunt, the first stage of the three-stage "Safe World" project, is slowly drawing to a close. The European Council of Magicians has announced its official conclusion on May 1st, the day after this year's Beltane Sabbat (Walpurgis Night). To mark the occasion, we will publish a special issue of Magic Times, containing a timeline of the hunt, the Hunters' most outstanding achievements, awards granted, statistics on the number of vampires, strigoi, wraiths, chimeras, wyverns, and others killed, and chilling stories of monster encounters.

Now that our world has been cleansed of all magical filth, it's time to move on to the next stage: a general vote on the new Magical Constitution. It will contain all the legal norms for the use of magic, as well as restrictions on werewolf bloodlines and other species minorities. Elections for the Constitutional Council of Mages will begin this fall, with magical representation from all continents except Africa participating. Each country, depending on its population, will be able to elect between two and 30 members of the Council. The Council's sessions will begin immediately after the New Year in Siebenstern, the European Capital of Magic, and will continue for the next 16 months.

Next, the so-called Great Barrier project will be implemented—a shield designed to protect the world from the interference of Wild Magic, which has been the main source of our problems for centuries.

The "Safe World" project is scheduled for completion in 2001. At that time, the government-independent Guardians of Magic formations (in Poland's case, the Office for the Protection of Magic), which have protected the world from the influence of Wild Magic for over two centuries, will be officially disbanded. Maintaining order will be transferred to the Supreme Councils of Mages (European, Eastern, and American) and the National Councils of Mages.

Magic Times, Warsaw,

April 24, 1994 (2nd Day of Beltane Eve, 163 AD, Third Age, according to the Magical Calendar)

**

"Pass the arrow! Quick!

" "Here... He... Damn it! Man, I can't reach it!"

A Panasonic flashlight flashed in the Egyptian darkness. Its beam swept across the rough limestone rocks and illuminated a young man, half-clinging to small gaps, half-hanging from a complex tangle of ropes and hooks. The uneven walls of the well closed in around him.

He could have been a passionate cavers.

"Get down a little lower, damn it!" hissed his friend, whose silhouette loomed on the edge of visibility. "By the gods, do I have to explain everything to you?"

"There! There..." A soft scraping sound rang out, and the man let go of the walls, sliding slowly down. He braked just before his friend. His hand reached out and handed the man below him a small, gleaming silver arrow.

"Marek! Don't dangle above me like that, you idiot! What if the hook breaks?"

The young man snorted.

"You know what, Stefan, you're a stiff, de-magical old man who's too superstitious for his own good. This equipment is adorned with so many spells that we won't fall, even if there's a Black Hole below!

" "The scientist has been found! If you survive as long as I have, Marek, you'll learn how much you can trust in conjuring tricks!

" "What about the arrow?

" "It's cold so far. The bastard's still a long way off... No wonder they've only just now detected it.

" "How many meters deep is this cave?"

"I don't know." No one's been here before us…" Stefan laughed maliciously. "That's the joy of this job. Discovering new places… Meeting new… people. We're going down."

The two men began to slowly descend into the endless depths of the vertical corridor. For long minutes, the only sounds breaking the cave's enchanted silence were the creaking of the rope and heavy, nervous breathing.

"How much longer?" Marek asked at one point.

"Are you giving up, Marek?" the older man panted. "Don't worry, there will be even worse missions.

" "If I'd known my career at UOM required such sacrifices, I would have pursued something more enjoyable. Like politics," Marek grumbled.

The other man spat and shined his flashlight down.

"Not far," he assessed. "That toothy one's holed up pretty well."

Soon his feet touched the ground. Limestone gravel crunched under his sturdy boots. By the light of a flashlight, they unfastened the ropes and removed the bags and strange weapons from their backs. It looked like a long, black rifle with a wide barrel, with an inconspicuous crystal ball attached to its base. From the bags, they took greenish baseball caps (when worn, they bathed the cave for a meter in a soft glow), two small bottles, and two arrows. They inserted the arrows, shafts, into the barrels of the weapons. At that moment, the balls glowed with a blue light.

"Ready?

" "Sure, mate." Marek nodded. He was a very fair-haired man who, judging by his appearance, had the makings of a brilliant accountant. He studied the cave walls with the kind of scientific interest that some more naive people mistook for a passion for life.

"Okay," Stefan uncorked the bottle. "One sip will last an hour. The Deterritory Potion should confuse the bastard, even if only for a few seconds." But in a fight with a vampire, only the first seconds always count.

They both took a long sip of the magical potion. Their silhouettes began to blur, only to return to their former sharpness a moment later. Yet they seemed strangely suspended in space, perhaps even without space… Wherever you looked, you'd see two Monster Hunters, even if your mind told you it was physically impossible…

"Let's go!" Stefan commanded. "Just try to be quiet. And keep your crossbow at the ready. The Toothless One could be lurking around any corner… As soon as the sangoscope changes color from blue to red…

" "I'm to stop immediately and shoot anything that moves. You know I'm not some youth club kid? Spare me the fatherly advice."

The man smiled to himself but said nothing. Holding their crossbows in firing position, they began to creep down the narrow corridor. Their boots moved silently across the astonishingly smooth floor, dotted here and there with dark stalagmites. Thousands of icicles hung from the semicircular ceiling, and the walls were adorned with intricately twisted flowstones. The cave resembled the elegant hall of a wealthy house more than a natural formation.

The corridor sloped gently downward, winding and constantly changing width. The men breathed heavily in the stifling, hot air. Stefan, leading the way, occasionally touched the arrowhead protruding from his crossbow and muttered to himself, "Cool." Marek rolled his eyes each time, until he finally couldn't bear it any longer.

"But you have a sangoscope," he observed.

"I don't believe this modern magical technique; the dog licked it," the older man replied, his voice laced with contempt. "Silver will never lie to you.

" "Strange... Why are these stalactites completely dry?" And don't you think it's a bit too warm for a normal cave?

"What?" the man turned abruptly.

"No, nothing.

" "Shut up. Unless you want a quick and painful death.

" "Look!"

The Sangoscope turned pinkish.

"We've got him!" the man whispered. The flashlight in his hand trembled slightly, sending flickering reflections onto the dark walls. "He's close! Be careful now, the beasts are incredibly fast..."

Crouching slightly, nerves taut as ropes, they began to laboriously move forward. Danger could lurk around any corner... Marek's heart pounded in his chest, clouding his eyes with a red mist...

Red eyes!

His hand reacted immediately, pulling the trigger! The arrow fired with a faint pop and lodged itself right in the center of the glowing dot. There was a quiet "Psst!" and the dot faded.

Marek stood for a moment, his mouth wide open.

"Did I hit him?" – he asked in a voice full of disbelief.

“Stupid! Vampires don’t say “Psst”!” his companion scolded him. “What kind of abomination is that?”

He shone his flashlight, and a sultry curse escaped his lips. He walked over and pulled Marek's arrow from the wall. A small, golden-skinned lizard dangled at its tip.

Marek blinked and looked at the crystal ball. It glowed blue again.

"A fire lizard," Stefan explained, holding the arrow before him. "They feed on blood, that's why your miraculous technological invention misled us.

" "A fire lizard?" Marek's eyes widened, gleaming anxiously behind his wire-rimmed glasses. "Where did a fire lizard come from? They love to fry in flames... They live where it's really hot, beneath the earth's crust, in volcanic craters... Stefan, where are we?

" "Maybe it wanted to cool off? Who knows," the man ventured.

Marek wiped the sweat from his forehead with a shaking hand. His gaze wandered for a moment along the corridor walls.

"Stefan… Listen, those aren't stalactites. They're solidified lava!" he whispered with fear and awe in his voice. "We're near an underground volcano!

" "You think?" the man stared intently at the lizard. "Strange. No normal vampire would venture this close to fire. They're mortally afraid of it.

" "Should we go back?"

Stefan looked at him as if he were a metal elf (there was one, of course. Strange things happen in this world).

"You've got to be kidding!" he casually shook the reptile's corpse to the ground and shot Marek back. "You want to give up because a toothy creature likes to keep its apartment warm? Let's go!"

The corridor gradually narrowed, so that soon they had to squeeze sideways. Just then they heard a rustling sound.

It was faint but distinct. They didn't have to wait long to see its source.

Suddenly, the corridor opened into a large chamber. The flashlight's beam, too dim to encompass its vastness, focused on small fragments: massive columns of volcanic stone, twisted formations on the walls… a curtain of liquid flowing from the ceiling on the opposite side of the chamber.

Marek inhaled sharply.

"Okay." Stefan glanced at the sangoscope, which was now glowing a distinct red. He touched the arrow. "Hot. Now we have it.

" "Stefan… It's at the end… I mean, the second…

" "Tia, behind that curtain." Stefan took a decisive step toward the strange waterfall. His friend's hand grabbed his arm.

"Stop!" Marek hissed. Fear lurked in his sickly glinting pupils. "Can't you see what… this… is? This isn't normal! I beg you, let's go back!

" "Come on!" the man slapped his hand away. "Don't tell me you're afraid of one impudent bloodsucker!

" "But this can't be an ordinary vampire!"

"Boy, there's no such thing as an ordinary vampire." The man shook his head. "You have no idea how many sickos I've met in my career. But not one of them has experienced silver in their hearts." He added with a hint of malicious satisfaction in his voice.

His hand reached out towards the phenomenal liquid, which flowed from nowhere and vanished with all the freedom of the magical element, hissing very real.

"Stefan! Don't touch it! This… this is blood!" Marek's voice sounded like a howl. "Leave it and we'll run!

" "Stupid, this is just an illusion!" the man spat, and, drawing his crossbow, disappeared behind a curtain of liquid blood.

Marek swallowed nervously. The perfect darkness didn't look inviting. After a moment's thought, he squeezed his eyes shut and, finger on the trigger, stepped through the curtain.

He felt only a slight tingling sensation around the back of his neck.

On the other side was a small section of the cave, with a corridor no more than a meter high leading beyond. Stefan was shining his flashlight on a section of the wall above the small corridor.

There was a sign on it.

"'Welcome to my hospitable home,'" Stefan read with disgust in his voice. "Raj, this vampire must be seriously messed up."

The flashlight beam crept down, illuminating the corridor.

A large gray wolf with crimson eyes stood there.

For the first time in his life, Stefan hesitated for a split second. In this case, it would cost him more than he expected.

With deadly speed, the wolf bounced off the ground and plunged at the monster hunter!

The flashlight fell to the ground with a crash.

Only one, startled thought raced through Marek's mind, frozen in place: "Vampires don't turn into wolves!"

"Stefan!"

In the semi-darkness, two silhouettes locked, and the man's terrifying scream shook the walls of the cave! He was interrupted by the sickening sound of tearing flesh. The scream gave way to a wheezing sound that slowly faded…

"STEFAN!!

" The arrow fired, piercing the throng of fighters silently. An ear-splitting howl rang out, and the gray silhouette vanished into the darkness. The man's body lay still, a large pool of blood already spreading around his neck.

"Stefan! Ste… Ste… Stefan? Stefan!" A shaking Marek, on unsteady legs, ran to his dead companion. He threw the crossbow to the ground and bent down for the flashlight…

"Wait, flycatcher!"

Two strong hands grabbed him by the lapels and lifted him up. A pair of narrowed red eyes looked into his. A groan escaped Marek's throat.

"P-please don't kill me! Liiiit!

" "Why, flycatcher? It's your fault for ignoring the prohibition signs!" the vampire said in a sinister tone. Marek noticed, however, that he was breathing heavily and trembling as if something were causing him obvious pain.

"Please!" he moaned.

"I didn't ask to join you," the vampire continued. "I don't care about your whole magical society! But no! I see you can't find a hole in this world deep enough to leave you alone for even a century!"

He unceremoniously slammed Mark to the ground. The man's head hit the rock, and darkness erupted before his eyes...

**

I sat cross-legged on my bed, diligently pretending to be struggling with a math problem. It involved beasts called fractions, which I was supposed to tame.

However, eavesdropping on the civilized discussion coming from downstairs proved to be a much more interesting activity.

"Where's that damn broom! If I'm going to that hellish dance with the devil as a DJ, I have to have a damn broom!" It was Mom.

"But honey, why don't you fly on a vacuum cleaner? That's very trendy these days..." Dad tried to smooth things over.

"Stop talking nonsense!" If I tried to fly in on a vacuum cleaner, a pool cue, an ironing board, or any other household appliance, my sisters from hell would be furious with me!

"I know you don't like them much, honey, but…

" "Fat fascist witches!

" "Ugh!!" my almost-year-old sister roared, deeply offended that no one was paying attention to her progress in drawing crayon lines.

"You don't have to go to the Sabbath," Dad remarked soberly.

"What? Not celebrating Walpurgis Night?" Mom said indignantly. "That's like declaring I'm not a witch!

" "You've been saying that for ages. You work in a non-magical hospital and live in a non-magical city just to distance yourself from them.

" "I distance myself from them because they're a bunch of idiots! But you don't think I'd lightly throw away over a thousand years of tradition, do you?"

"And not because you're not very good at this whole spellcasting thing?"

A moment of silence.

Oh. Father hit Mom's sensitive spot with his axe.

"You don't understand!

" "I understand.

" "No, you don't understand! You have no idea!

" "It's your fault you married a non-magical idiot!" Dad finally snapped. "Don't blame me for everything now!

" "UAAAAAAAAAA!" My sister, not getting the desired results, tried louder. She added a rattle to the crib bars.

"Leo! Shut that baby up!" Mom yelled.

"I'm busy! I'm struggling with math!" I announced from the depths of my room, busily drawing a fern flower in the margin of my notebook. This year I was going to get it... Then my ghostly family would be redundant.

Especially all seven of my aunts.

At that moment, I heard hurried footsteps on the creaking wooden stairs. One…two…three…four…five…and he was upstairs. It had to be Dad.

The door to my room opened with a bang and the sad rustle of a Sailor Moon poster falling to the ground.

"You've lost something," Dad picked up the poster and placed it on the desk.

"I know. I stuck it on with the magic 'Un-Removable' plaster," I replied sarcastically.

"Is that the one that won't peel off on its own?" Dad asked curiously. "Mom tried Unsticking Potion, a water wand, and pliers..."

With a significant gesture, I looked down at my notebook.

"Oh, exactly," Dad tapped his head. "I'll do your math homework, and you go and calm those two women down. I suggest you start with Mom."

I sighed heavily and dragged myself out of bed. I was an oasis of peace in the turmoil-ridden, semi-magical house. Well, Dad too, but he was afraid of Mom. And she was supposed to be the nicest of the siblings.

"What are you staring at?" I asked my experimental hamster, who was climbing the railing. The animal looked at me with even more pitiful green eyes and flapped both sets of miniature wings. I knew it wasn't his fault. Mom had promised me she'd give me a fire wand and the "My Little Pony" set (special food, a foldable stable, and the book "My Pony: A Care Guide") if I managed to turn my hamster into a monkey. I'd already made a lot of progress. For example, I hung a picture of a monkey over my desk.

"WOW!" my sister began her third attack.

"Leo!

" "I'm coming, Mom!" I ran down the creaky stairs to the hall. Mom was rummaging through a dilapidated wardrobe, which Dad used to say "you'll have to throw it away someday," and Mom said, "It's still good! They don't make magic wardrobes that spacious anymore!" She was right. When I was three, I managed to get lost in it.

The wardrobe now held most of the magical items my mother normally wouldn't let me see. Some of them were now part of a sizable pile lying directly on the cashmere bat-patterned rug. Amidst the numerous candles in every imaginable color, old cauldrons, used wands, tattered ritual robes, and a disassembled deck of Wizard's Gambit cards, I spotted a small, blackened mirror with a large red inscription across its entire surface: "Do not look!".

"Is this the way to Narnia?" I asked hopefully.

My mother poked her head out of the wardrobe to give me a disapproving look. In her hand was a slender, pale blue torch, made from the Tree of Eternal Flame, also known as the Beltane Torch. According to tradition, each Sabbat participant brought a flame from the Fire of Bel to her home as a sign of rebirth.

"You read too much fantasy nonsense, Leo!" she snapped. "I wish I'd sent you to a magical elementary school; they'd have taught you to stick to reality, which is crazy enough already!

" "Then why didn't you?" I asked.

"Because it's a school for idiots," Mom replied, disappearing into the closet again. "Have you seen my broom anywhere?

" "I have.

" "Where?? Why aren't you saying anything?" Mom jumped out of the closet and leaned over me like a vampire over its prey.

"Remember when you left it in the yard after a ride with Aunt Marzena?" Wolfie really liked it and started playing with it. Dad made a new rake out of the stick," I explained.

"MY BROOM!" Mom exploded, waving a torch. I stepped back a bit. "MURDER THAT MUNCH!

" "Leave Wolfie alone!" I screamed heroically, ready to die defending my beloved dog.

"UAAAAAA!! "My sister added.

"I'll buy you a new one at Społem!" Dad suggested from upstairs.

Mom was momentarily speechless.

"I..." she began, ready to explode again.

"Do you want mine?" I asked.

"Will it even fly?" Mom sneered.

I felt very offended. There was no telling how the conversation would have turned out, but at that moment the doorbell rang. At the same time, Bronchild's aunt landed on the terrace and, opening the balcony window with a careless wave of her hand, burst into the living room.

"Oh, hello, Bronchild!" Mom smiled artificially. "But what's the bell for?

" "Bronchild, if I may," Aunt drawled, taking up half the couch. "You know that witches, like death, never knock. And a cultured person always promises to be a good one. I came up with this idea, didn't I?

" "Brilliant," Mom confirmed, smiling even wider. She looked as if she'd just swallowed half a lemon. The torch trembled dangerously in her hand. "So what brings you here, sister? We're supposed to meet at the Sabbath anyway.

" "Leokadia! Don't lurk like a rat, come into the room!" my aunt snapped. My heart leapt into my throat when she looked at me. I felt her eyes peel me like an onion. And I was sure she knew I hated my name.

"Leo, aunt," I muttered, sliding into the room and sitting on the edge of the armchair. I just wanted her to stop staring at me with those cold blue eyes that looked truly terrifying in her plump face.

"The way you dress her! Black pants, a black sweater, glasses, and That Thing on her head! She looks like an outcast!"

I instinctively smoothed down the mop of sickly brown curls I hated.

"So, why did you come?" my mother repeated.

Her aunt turned her gaze to her and with a wave of her hand summoned the most frosted cake from the pile piled on the table.

"I wanted to warn you that they've increased the Coven's security. They've put all the Monster Hunter units to work. You'll probably have to identify yourself before entering.

" "But... What happened?" Mom's eyes widened in surprise.

"A vampire escaped." A hideous smile spread across her aunt's face. "Quite close to here. He bit one of their best Hunters. His friend lies unconscious in the hospital.

" "Impossible!" Mom exclaimed. "It had to be another messed-up werewolf! But according to official reports from the Office

for the Protection of Magic..." "Yes, according to official reports from the Office for the Protection of Magic, all vampires were exterminated over a year ago, except for a few harmless ones kept in the zoo as a tourist attraction and one singer with overpriced lawyers," her aunt agreed.

"Exactly!

" "Well, it looks like they miscalculated at least one of them.

" "How can you be sure it's a vampire?

" "That's interesting." Initially, all the evidence pointed to a werewolf; the victim's throat clearly bore wolf-tooth marks... The UOM even wanted to maintain this version, knowing full well that the vampire's escape would negatively impact the popularity of the idea of ​​demilitarization and the dissolution of the UOM as a relic of the Great Mage Wars. They even benefited from the fact that the only witness to the event was still unconscious.

"And what happened? "

My aunt chuckled, a laugh that chilled my blood, and she summoned another cookie.

"Imagine, while they were cleaning up the scene, some nosy CTV journalist infiltrated their ranks and noticed that the Sangoscope was still glowing red. Apparently, there was also a broken silver arrow and some inhuman blood that hadn't coagulated. And you know, the only creature whose blood doesn't coagulate is a vampire.

" "Wait a minute... Where, meaning where?"

My aunt shrugged.

"They didn't provide any information." But apparently it's close to Łysa Góra. That's why we could be in danger. They're getting terribly involved in this, trying to nip a scandal in the bud that could ruin their plans. Besides... The news will be on CTV1 in a moment. You'll see for yourself.

Mom shook her head, but she turned on the TV and tuned it to channel one of the wizarding cable channel. A commercial for a quick-cleaning wand was just ending ("It even removes streaks from Permanent Paint!").

"If I wanted a wand for everything, I'd probably have to hire a porter!" her aunt muttered contemptuously. "Idiots have to make things easy for themselves!"

Bronchild's aunt was a staunch advocate of traditional methods. She preferred spending three days in the library searching for a spell to remove a wart rather than buying a disposable wand with a ready-made spell for 5 złoty at the store.

A full hourglass appeared on the screen. The flash was starting to flash.

"Today is Walpurgis Night, or Beltane, one of the main holidays of the magical calendar!" announced a thin man in a graphite robe. "Traditionally, all witches gather for the Sabbat in designated areas. This year's motto is: 'The Devil Never Dances the Same Tango Twice!'" The Sabbat's sponsors, the renowned and respected Haggart company, will present a new line of products with the captivating name "Bella Magic." In addition to the well-known competitions: the Most Effective Charm, Jumping Through Fire, the Most Beautiful Witch, the Most Astonishing Baking, the Frog Knife Throwing, the Alternative Dance, the Race of People Turned into Pigs, and the Most Disgusting Potion for a Man, this year another competition has been added, borrowed from non-magical culture: the Flying on Anything Contest! The Sabbat organizers assure us that no one will be harmed and that everyone will "fly to Earth safely."

Men are asked to stay home, as they will not be allowed into the ceremony grounds. The same applies to witches under eighteen. This year, please bring your ID, as every witch is required to identify themselves at the entrance!

"As soon as I can dig up my ID," Mom snorted.

"Last night, a vampire escaped from the monster hunters. Since this happened near Łysa Góra, we ask all members of the local Sabbat to exercise extreme caution! The monster is injured and particularly dangerous! We ask that anyone leaving their home tonight carry as large a piece of silver as possible. If you see the creature with red eyes and fangs, leave as calmly as possible and report to one of the monster hunters who will be regularly patrolling the area around Łysa Góra!

" "Even better," Mom said.

"The European Unicorn Race begins in Paris today." During the three-day race, the animals will cover a distance of…

"Well, that's it," Mom turned off the TV and leaned back in her armchair. "We have another attraction. The Vampire Hunting Competition.

"

It turned out that my aunt wasn't going to leave us so soon. She decided to wait until Mom was properly dressed and they could set off for the Sabbath together. Meanwhile, she and my sister were playing with a shiny red ball. My little sister was delighted. I just didn't understand why, every time Mom entered the room, the ball somehow disappeared.

"I'm ready!" Mom announced, appearing before us (meaning me, my sister, and my aunt, because Dad somehow didn't come downstairs) in a garishly striped red and black dress, over which she had thrown a blue cape fastened with a large star-shaped brooch. The image was completed by long leather boots, also blue, and a black tiara with a curved toe, on which a tiny blue pygmy owl had taken up residence, hooting mischievously. If it weren't for the color I would think it was real.

"Wonderful!" my aunt declared, clapping her hands. "Now you look like a real witch!"

In my personal opinion, my mother resembled a rack laden with bargains from the local thrift store. But, of course, I didn't say that out loud. My mother, the only failed witch in the entire magically brilliant family, tried to please the aunts at every opportunity.

And often failed miserably.

"Come on, Anne, grab your broom and let's go!" my aunt exclaimed briskly, heaving herself up from the table to the sound of a desperate creaking of the tortured couch.

My mother blushed furiously.

"I... I'm going to go on a vacuum cleaner!" she blurted out a terrible secret. She cringed, waiting for a verbal attack.

My aunt looked at her curiously. She didn't seem outraged.

"I don't approve of these modern means of transportation. But if you want..."

I almost saw my mother breathe a sigh of relief. She strode briskly into the basement, where our cleaning equipment was stored.

Through the slightly ajar door, I heard the sound of a spell being cast…

And the crash of falling cans of Wilczuś's food.

"Well," my aunt sighed heavily, as if resigning herself to fate. "Ania was never good at magic.

Somehow, though, she managed, because when she emerged from the basement with a slightly mad look in her eyes, the vacuum cleaner was following her, hovering half a meter above the ground.

"Leo! Clean up that damn dog's food!" she snapped.

I stood up and obediently headed for the basement. Behind me, I heard another whistling sound as the two women took to the sky. "Finally!" I thought with relief. Now I could put the Great Plan into action.

**

"Dad...

" Dad settled in front of the TV with a can of beer in his hand, his eyes hungrily following Rambo's exploits. The remaining three cases of "Warka Strong" were piled up next to the couch. I didn't blame him; after all, everyone needs to let off steam sometimes.

"Yes, my little witch?

" "Can I go to Agnieszka's for the night? We'll have fun with the girls on the Sabbath." Her parents agreed.

Dad looked at me carefully.

"Okay. Just be back before ten, before Mom, I mean. I don't want her to tell me off again.

" "Thanks, Dad!" I kissed his rough cheek and fled the room before he could change his mind.

I knew what I wanted to do. This year I'd go to the Sabbath, and nothing would stop me. My friend Agness and I had planned it very carefully. Her parents wouldn't find out, of course, since they were also away from home...

We just had to deal with the age issue somehow... Whose idea was it that the age limit was eighteen? But it didn't matter. I found the perfect spell in Mom's old textbooks. It would age me ten years, and just for that one night.

Smiling dreamily, I ran up the creaking stairs, past the experimental hamster (practicing parachute jumps from the first floor), and with a slam of the door, I disappeared into the room.

A prehistoric oak wardrobe, probably dating back to the Viking era, creaked violently whenever I tried to open it, stood against one wall. I flung it open. In the very corner, between my mother's folded ash-gray cloak and a prehistoric tiara buried in prehistoric moth carcasses, lay a small package. I threw it on the floor, kicking up a cloud of dust.

"Okay," I muttered, and pulled out my practice wand from a desk drawer plastered with pictures of kangaroos, black panthers, and baring wyverns.

It wasn't really a real wand. It couldn't do magic on its own. It was made of a piece of birch wood with a spell built into it to channel the flow of magic. Thanks to this, she made it easier for young apprentices to adapt to magic.

I sucked thoughtfully on the tip of my wand, trying to think of a sensible spell. The words didn't really matter, but I always felt that spells written in verse worked better. I focused simultaneously on the image of the witch in her formal attire that hung above my bed. "I want to look like her..." I thought, "I want to look like her..."

Now came the hard part. I had to "look at the world through the prism of the seventh sense, characteristic of all magical creatures, to see and feel magic, and for it to see and feel my intentions." This had always been quite difficult for me. My teacher had sarcastically told me that I must be "magically underdeveloped" if it was so difficult to get my magic to manifest.

I sat cross-legged on the floor and tried to open myself to magic, simultaneously pushing all unnecessary thoughts from my mind. After a few minutes, I finally saw delicate, multicolored shadows around me, appearing for a split second and then vanishing. It wasn't nearly as good, but it had to do. I imagined a hurricane and a small bonfire, transforming into the witch on the wall, and I felt the magic of Air and Fire, drawn by the images, flowing into me, filling my entire body...

I wanted to look like her...

I took a deep breath and, straightening to my full five-foot height, jabbed my wand at the package.

"One! Two! Three!

I want to look like you!" I recited.

I didn't have to wait long for the effect. Suddenly, I felt very, very hot... Too hot! I squealed in pain and surprise. The air around me swirled, tearing the package apart. My mother's old robes and hat burst from it and began spinning around me like a crazy carousel! But I couldn't see it, as I crouched down, covering my eyes with my hands. The blistering heat wouldn't go away! I felt tears gathering behind my eyelids. Suddenly, a cool breeze brushed against my bare skin and... that was it. My robes billowed gently around my body and then froze. I sighed with relief. I hadn't suspected that accelerated puberty could be SO awful. I raised my hand to adjust my mother's tiara, which was sticking out at an odd angle on my head...

Wait! Why is my skin so wrinkled?

I raised my hands to my face in horror... and encountered a gigantic wart growing from my cheek! At the last moment, I stifled a scream and rushed towards the bathroom...

"Aha-ha!" I wheezed, staring at my (my??) image in the mirror. Help, I must have been 200 years old!!

"Mommy!" I squealed, digging my yellowed fingernails into my withered cheeks. "Help!

" "Hey, hey! What's going on here?" asked an irritated voice from deep in the mirror. The Mirror Elf looked at me inquisitively. After a moment, astonishment blossomed on his silvery face.

"Leo?"

I nodded, unable to say a word.

"I warned you not to use your mom's cosmetics! Or at least the ones her sisters gave you! How do you look now! And that wart!

" "Help me, Max! If mom sees me...

" "Well, no more of those!" The elf shook his head in disapproval. "Not Max, but Mnemmeth Adenius Xenofild XXXII, son of...

" "Maaaaaaaaaaaa!" I howled, bursting into tears.

The elf sighed, clearly irritated.

"No way. You know perfectly well that I only have power on Yule, the longest night of the year. Unless you can wait until December...

" "You'd better tell Mom.

" "He'll kill meeeee!" With those words, I stormed out of the bathroom. In the process, I nearly flattened a lab rat, eagerly learning to fly, against the wall.

As I ran, I snatched a blue leather volume with the enigmatic title "Body Magic: Simple Spells for Women" from the desk and settled down with it on the carpet. Sobbing profusely and wiping my runny nose with my sleeve, I began turning the pages. What had I done wrong again?

The problem was, I was mostly self-taught. It was my mother's fault. She didn't send me to a magical elementary school because, according to her, they didn't teach enough essential subjects like math and geography. It's just a shame they taught so much more magic than the private lessons my mother gave me instead.

My tutor, Mrs. Klementyna, was a truly lovely person, I must admit. She spent half an hour talking to me about her cats, toads, pumpkins, and children. The children, as she often said, were her least successful. Then she'd show me a spell, usually without explaining anything, because "I wouldn't understand it anyway." At the end, she'd laugh and tell me I should "read the next 30 pages and practice at home." And she never checked my homework after that. I think she was worried about the state of her apartment.

And then my mom would wonder why I couldn't do the simplest cleaning spell...

I found a passage and began to read it intently.

"...you need to define in your mind the age you want to achieve very precisely. This will be easier if you focus on a photo of someone you know, who is the desired age in the photo..."

I glanced at the wall, where a portrait of a witch, my favorite villain from the popular series "The Enchanted World," which airs Mondays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays on CTV3, was smirking. In that photo, she was DEFINITELY no older than 20!

I looked at the book again.

"...Remember, the spell wears off after an hour. From that point on, you'll lose one year every hour..."

Right. That didn't concern me anymore. I moved my gaze to the next paragraph.

"Send a small amount of Fire Magic* through yourself and say the words of the spell, activating the spell."

I blinked. Everything was fine! So what...

Wait! A star? I looked down at the bottom.

"*Warning! If you're not an experienced magician, it's not recommended to cast Air Magic spells simultaneously, as they multiply the spell's power many times over, which can have unexpected consequences!"

I groaned and hit myself on the head with the tome. And what had I done? This was my first lesson in complex spellcasting:

"Remember two basic rules,

young magician:

Air ignites Fire,

Fire extinguishes a stream of Water."

No, Leo must have forgotten! This spell-breaking must be hereditary...

For a moment, I just wanted to sit down and cry. Well, no fun at all. No devil would invite me to a dance in this state. And besides, I'd probably get into a real row when I got back. It was doubtful Mom would be able to help me, because like the vast majority of witches and wizards, she had terrible difficulty with counter-spells during the waxing moon.

"Stupid Moon!" I angrily threw the book on the floor.

I could already feel a lump in my throat and a sting in my eyes as I thought that, after all, it wasn't proper to cry at the age of two hundred. And Aunt Clotilda was at the Sabbath, the embodiment of kindness and fantastic gingerbread, and the only relative I tolerated. My aunt, if I remembered from family stories, had studied medmagic for a while before she took up the confectionery business. Perhaps she could break my spell?

With a faint hope in my heart, I rose from the floor, stuffing my practice wand into my pocket. My bony hand slipped behind the wardrobe and pulled out a broomstick that was struggling with all its might.

The flying equipment looked the least ancient. Those twigs that had managed to escape Wilczuś's teeth stuck out at various, by no means proper, angles. On the worn and gnawed handle were faint drawings of bones, skulls, snakes, halved hearts, and other terrifying symbols, scribbled on with black marker beforehand.

"Easy, broomstick. It's just a little ride," I said in a screeching voice. The broomstick trembled and tried to pull away. It had been doing this ever since Agness and I decided to perform the Black Ritual of Moccha over it, meant to cure its fear of heights.

I grabbed it firmly by the handle and dragged it forcefully to the balcony.

"We're going!" I yelled in a slightly high-pitched voice, straddling it.

The broomstick didn't react.

I sighed heavily and pulled out a very sharp pocketknife.

"We're going!" I repeated, placing the pocketknife on the worn handle.

The broomstick quivered… And, shaking like a twenty-year-old toddler, it gradually began to gain height.

I smiled faintly to myself, as was my habit, completely forgetting the problems looming before me. I never suspected that the skill of "objective persuasion," which Aunt Bronchlida had once passionately taught me, would be so useful in handling my flying equipment. I had already risen slightly above the pine trees growing in the garden. The broomstick had no intention of going any higher (it was already covering the hypothetical eyes with its remaining twigs).

"Wiśta wiśta, kara!" I yelled at that, and, like a drunken fart, I set off towards Łysa Góra.

**

If any of the non-magical (called nems for short) had noticed an old woman in a dark green ritual robe flying twenty feet above the residential street, riding a broom that was no longer even suitable for sweeping, they would probably have been a little surprised. Especially since the old woman was singing nonsensical songs at the top of her voice.

However, as it turns out, Mother Nature wasn't quite so cruel to those poor souls falling out of windows, down ladders, and tripping over rooftop satellite dishes. According to journalistic reports, in the past twenty years, there were nearly twelve times more cases of the Nemesis spotting a flying saucer than any other manifestation of magic. And the magical government had less credit for this than one might think.

In 1616, the renowned German alchemist Johan Herz, in his work "Magical Immunity," presented the results of his research on a truly astonishing trait found in humans and the vast majority of mammals, which he called magical immunity. This rendered non-wizards deaf and blind to all manifestations of the magical world. And this applied not only to spells themselves, but to literally every wizard, magical creature, plant, or object with magical properties. Additionally, the average Homo Sapiens was completely insensitive to magic (hence the name of the phenomenon), which Herc explained by the fact that this person also "doesn't see magic."

It is now believed that this immunity arose during evolution and prevented the extinction of a non-magical society, allowing two diametrically opposed worlds to survive side by side. Indeed, they coexisted so ably for many years that they managed to develop completely different cultures, calendars, political systems, and political maps of the world. The

problem of immunity was partially solved over a hundred years ago, when a group of eminent alchemists condensed a magical essence and created the Amulet of Return. This small metal disc, engraved with the symbol of the Pentagram, allowed the nemes to see the wizard wearing it, enabling any contact between our societies.

**

- Oh, how pleasant

it is to sway among the clouds!

When the leaves tremble in the trees and the wind rustles!

Oh, how pleasant it is

for us to beat werewolves!

Beat the devils at cards and be a Polish witch!

I moved forward slowly (10 km/h) and steadily, rising and falling by half a meter, depending on the upward currents multiplied by the amplitude of the broom's momentary laziness.

The Polish witch's hymn seemed somewhat out of place in the almost absolute silence. I was terribly off-key, which was a slap in the face to the local forest bird population. Moreover, I wailed so picturesquely that the hymn sounded like a full-blooded "Kyrieelejson."

The forest beneath my feet looked dangerous and tempting. I had a strong urge to land and walk for a while, squeezing between the damp spruce branches. Small flames burned in the treetops. Legend had it that Hecate herself, ruler of spirits and patroness of witches, lit them. They guided the witches, but also warned them that the forest on Walpurgis Night was not a safe place for any living creature. Today, various specters, demons, sylphs, ghosts, and all manner of immaterial creatures were also having their own celebration. At one point, I even felt something bordering on the material touch my leg. Someone's resonant laughter echoed in the warm air.

Before me, I saw the peak of Łysa Góra, illuminated by magical lanterns. From this distance, I couldn't make out individual figures, but I noticed that there were many, many of them. Hundreds, maybe thousands?

"A hundred, broom, a hundred!" I urged her vigorously, slapping the handle with my hand. In response, she seemed to slow down. She even began to fall.

"Faster, you rotten fireplace kindling!" I screamed, kicking the air. "Or I won't make it to the opening!"

My feet brushed the upper branches of the pine trees. I looked down desperately. We were still losing altitude.

"What are you doing, stupid? Up, I say! UP!"

The broom suddenly stopped and shook as if in a fever.

"UP!! DON'T YOU HEAR?"

The flying machine must not have heard, because at that very moment it lost consciousness and plummeted down in a murderous corkscrew...

"Aa

... Silver sparks flashed before my eyes...

"Ma'am? Ma'am!"

I reluctantly opened my eyes. A young witch was leaning over me. She had beautiful black hair cascading over her purple cloak. She looked at me with a look of fear that I couldn't initially understand. I opened my mouth to ask what had happened and why, in the name of the Green Witch, I was lying on some damp mess. But the movement awoke a throbbing headache, which, worse still, radiated to my back. I groaned heartbreakingly. I must have broken my spine...

"Boooli!" I cried, oblivious to the fact that my sobs were only making the pain worse. "My head! Ouch!"

If she had any doubts about my state of mind, the witch (or was it three witches? My eyes were playing strange tricks on me) gave no sign. With a soft sigh, she reached into her stylish travel bag and pulled out a colorless bottle. The bag immediately filled me with fierce envy. It was beautiful, sewn from silver spiderweb. Roomy, with twenty-one pockets, seven of them magical, it gleamed delicately in the starlight. The latest craze. I stared at it hungrily for a moment, mentally compiling a list of Christmas wishes. I didn't even notice that I'd sat up, completely forgetting the pain.

"Madam! Drink this!"

The even more alarmed witch thrust three bottles under my nose. After a long moment of consideration, I chose the middle one and downed it in one gulp. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed six red spots gleaming against a nearby bush. I blinked, and the spots vanished. A demon? I must have been really sick...

The potion worked immediately, and the pain vanished. I sighed with relief.

"Did you break anything?" the young witch asked with concern in her voice. "At your age, you should be very careful; accidents are easy. "

I must have looked at her strangely, because she fell silent.

"I..." I began, but just in time I remembered that I was now a wrinkled, toothless old woman, bent from rheumatism. Well, except for the missing teeth.

"I feel fine," I muttered, and stood up slowly, trying to ignore the nauseating cracking in my joints. The broom, which had been crouching behind one of the pine trees, leaned out uncertainly. I ignored it completely. I would never ride it again, that I knew for sure. I silently resolved to sell it as cheaply as possible at the nearest Magical Junk and Overused Equipment Market.

"Let's go then," the witch declared firmly. She grabbed her broom (the latest model, with reverse gear and a retractable mirror) and casually tossed it over her shoulder. "I'll take you to the Coven Gate.

" "Uh... thanks," I muttered and obediently followed the witch. I was actually grateful to her, even if she was flaunting her bling. Without her, I probably wouldn't have made it. I was notorious for losing my way between school and home, especially in the fog. When asked which way to turn, I always pointed in the wrong direction. And even if I managed to predict the direction correctly, we were already past the intersection.

"Have you heard about that vampire running loose?" the witch asked suddenly. We were quite close now, judging by the cheerful chatter filtering through the natural silence of the forest. "Apparently he's a serial killer. He murdered six monster hunters and disappeared without a trace. It would be truly HORRIBLE to meet him face to face, wouldn't it?"

She looked utterly delighted with this project.

"I suppose so. I'd be scared," I muttered, sending startled glances around. "What if he's really here? He'll jump out from behind that tall bush on the left and attack us..."

I shuddered.

"Don't worry, the Office for the Protection of Magic has sent so many monster hunters here that even a snake ant couldn't get through, let alone a vampire!" the witch consoled me.

We had just arrived at the Coven Gate. Thick stems of Dragoneater Ivy, a recently fashionable transmagical plant, draped the wooden frame in a semicircle. Their branches flowed downward in elegant waves, completely obscuring the interior of the Coven Circle, as the ceremony venue was known. On the upper frame, a sign made of artificial fern blossoms solemnly announced:

"WELCOME TO THE BELTANE COVENANT OF 1994."

Two men in dark green uniforms blocked our path. Embroidered on their chests was the symbol of the Monster Hunters: a serpent coiled around a silver arrow.

"ID cards, please!" one of them said. Without hesitation, the young witch pulled out her blue badge and walked to the other side. Suddenly, I felt very, very cold.

"Your ID?" the other Hunter asked politely.

"Erm... I... I mean... I..." I gasped nervously, searching my pockets in wild desperation. Of course, there was nothing in them. "I... I had to..." I spread my hands in a helpless gesture.

"We can't let you in without ID.

" "But I...

" "Hey, Daniel, don't be so clerical!" the first Hunter snorted. "Grandma wants to have some fun, will you defend her? Maybe this is her last time?"

I stood still for a moment, torn between wanting to show him gratitude and yelling at him that I wasn't on death's doorstep. After a moment, however, I decided to remain silent and stepped through the Coven Gate.

The ivy branches moved slightly aside as I passed. On the other side, I saw a completely different world.

I was in the middle of one of the makeshift alleys carved out among the crush of stalls that looked as if, for lack of space, they were trying to crush the ones next to them. The ground beneath my feet was covered with flowers, so thick they formed a thick carpet, sinking into my ankles. I saw the witch in front of me take off her shoes, and without a second thought, I did the same. The petals were cool and soft as silk. I tossed my shoes onto a pile of others lying around a maypole tied with colorful ribbons and set off to explore.

Wooden benches were lined with the fanciest magical products imaginable. Every kind of wand, both single-spell and reusable, was piled neatly. At one exceptionally spacious and tastefully lit stall, Haggart was offering free makeup to volunteers. Right next to it, a stocky witch was loudly haggling over the price of a four-dimensional trunk with temperature control in each pocket. On the other side, self-unpacking rooms were for sale ("Special price! Only 10 złoty per square meter!"). A young witch, apparently in her last trimester of pregnancy, gazed with interest at a giant teddy bear that changed color depending on the infant's needs. An ethereal fairy, seemingly lighter than her own shadow, was touting in a thin voice the "shaman's eye," an amulet straight from Sub-Saharan Africa that allowed you to see behind your back. A witch with one eye covered by a blindfold confidentially offered a handful of St. Vitus's fire for the unfortunate wives of sailors. A plump woman with a kind face giggled as she sold a black potion called "Waterfall of Delight" to some particularly desperate witch. People crowded the stall where a plump witch in a striped dress was selling accessories for magical animals. I gazed longingly at the pale blue fire-retardant leash for a miniature dragon and the artificial treasure for the lair. I knew perfectly well that my mother would never allow me to have such a pet, even if you ignored its exorbitant price (23,000 złoty for the cheapest, brown one, 48,000 złoty for the silver one).

Between the stalls, a veritable frenzy raged. A crowd of witches poured through the narrow streets and seemed to grow denser by the moment. Having little choice, I followed them. We were clearly heading towards the center of the Sabbat Circle. The stalls disappeared, replaced by numerous tents set up along the ground, divided into rectangles of varying sizes. Various signs hung above the entrances to these rectangles, such as "Alternative Dance Competition," "Race of People Transformed into Pigs," "Institute of Food Inventions Competition for the Most Astonishing Baked Product" (among the scattered tables, I briefly glimpsed Aunt Clotilde's blood-red dress and white apron), and "Most Beautiful Witch Competition" (I wasn't too surprised to see my recent savior in the line to register for the competition).

The crowd in front of me stopped. We stood around a circular clearing, from the center of which protruded a good two feet a circular basalt platform. Its central section was hollowed out, creating a kind of well.

The magic lanterns floating above our heads changed color from gold to blood-red, bathing the standing crowd in a ghostly glow. A deathly silence fell upon the clearing. The inscription "The Devil Doesn't Dance the Same Tango Twice" hovering above the stage seemed to be made of living fire.

Suddenly, an explosion rang out, and in a cascade of sparks, the figure of the Coven Master appeared on the platform. The creature in the black cloak laughed eerily, revealing a pair of golden eyes gleaming coldly in a very pale, yet unmistakably human face. A pair of crystal horns protruded from between the black curls. For a moment, I thought I saw the subtle movement of a tail beneath the wide cloak.

The crowd remained silent, waiting expectantly for what was about to happen. The Master surveyed the gathering, smiling contentedly to himself. His black-gloved hand reached into his cloak and a moment later reappeared, holding a torch carved entirely of lapis lazuli.

"Greetings on this hot April night, all of you who have dared to cross the enchanted gate of the Sabbat Circle! Welcome to the feast of the god Bel, lord of light, renewal, and eternal love!" his booming voice boomed.

"Greetings, Master!" the crowd of witches replied.

"When you entered here, you left your outer lives and worries outside! And from this moment until sunrise, you are Witches, a free people who are not ashamed to take everything they want from life by the handful! Are you not?

" "Yes, Master!

" "So, are you ready to surrender to the infernal delights of Walpurgis Night?

" "Yes, Master!

" "Are you ready to lose yourselves in the devilish dance and holy fire of the lord of this Sabbat?"

- Yes, Master!

"Excellent! Then abandon yourself to his mercy! May the god Bel cleanse your souls of all that is evil and external, may he burn them in his flames!"

As he spoke, his voice grew stronger; it seemed to fill the entire air, the air quivering with his presence... The Master raised his hand, and suddenly the entire sky lit up with thousands of shooting stars, approaching us at dizzying speed... Just above our heads, the stars burst into fern blossoms, covering the sky to the horizon with a colorful mesh that looked deceptively like living, pulsating magic... Multicolored flames descended upon us, between us, within us, penetrating our physical bodies as if we were nothing but illusions, shadows that could dissolve into nothingness with the slightest breeze... I felt a sudden warmth within me, and suddenly I had the impression that I could move mountains and melt cities with my magic. The feeling vanished as quickly as it had appeared, and after a moment, I was looking around with confused eyes. I wasn't alone in this.

"Now you are worthy of participating in the Sabbath!" the Master spoke again. "Time to light the fire, Bela!"

His hand holding the torch rose, and a flame flashed atop it. The Master tossed the lit torch into the well in the center of the dais. A moment later, a meter-high flame burst from within, illuminating hundreds of sparkling eyes and burning cheeks.

"I declare this year's Beltane Sabbath begun! Do as you please, witches, as long as you do not harm others!"

With these words, the Sabbath Master leaped into the flames and disappeared.

Meanwhile, a group of witches appeared on the dance floor, wearing low-cut, crimson dresses draped over their naked bodies. They were dancing the Devil's Dance, and a very suggestive version at that. To me, it looked rather distasteful, especially since figures were bustling among them. Or rather, shadows, for whatever they were didn't seem very substantial. One of these figures suddenly flicked a red tongue at the audience, sending shivers of fear and disgust through me.

I struggled through the slowly thinning crowd and set off down one of the numerous aisles. Smaller competitions were about to begin. Later, the grand, prestigious ones would follow, and the climax was to be a dance between the Most Beautiful Witch and the Coven Master. That's what I read from the information board hanging at the intersection of alleys. Interestingly, the first to perform was the "Flying on Anything Competition." For a moment, I was tempted to sign up with my broom... Well, it was worth watching. Although first, I had to find Aunt Clotilde so she could finally break the spell.

I quickly passed the fortune tellers' tents, especially one with a sign that read, "Fortune Teller Alice will reveal the mist of the future to you; so if you're brave, enter my door." My friend's mother, one of the craziest fortune tellers Poland has ever known, finally recognized me. At least she did in those rare moments when she was interested in the present.

I was next to a black tent with a glow-in-the-dark sign that read, "Spirit summoning. Your teacher, your murdered husband, your unfaithful wife, your neighbor, or even the President of the United States. A wide selection of offers for a small fee. Satisfaction guaranteed. Minimum bodily harm. For double the price, we'll even bring back your mother-in-law," when the gong sounded the start of the first competition. I cursed under my breath and decided to deal with my aunt later. I quickly walked in the opposite direction, earning surprised glances from the people I passed along the way.

I stood in the third row, but fortunately, the witches in front of me were relatively short. A broadly smiling witch emerged into the center of the rectangular square, clutching a piece of paper in her black talons. The first thing that caught my eye were her hazel eyes, accentuated by a murderous black line and accentuated by a corpse-like shadow. With her warm brown hair and ruddy complexion, which the unfortunate witch had tried to hide under a thick layer of wallpaper (though she didn't quite succeed), she looked more monstrous than the Sabbat Master himself.

"Welcome to the first 'Flying on Anything' contest!" she began in a slightly shrill voice, squinting sharply at the piece of paper, filled to the brim with small black letters. "This is where you can let your imagination run wild and show that a broomstick isn't the only thing you can fly with! Any innovations and wildest ideas are welcome! The only condition...

" "Is this the daughter of the UOM general, Maria Jastrzębska? What did she just put on her face?" I don't understand today's youth, ma'am. Instead of growing an honest wart, they're all strutting around and strutting around. And they're turning up their noses, and how, ma'am!" grumbled the withered old woman to my right. It took me a moment to realize she was talking to me.

"Uh... Well, yes," I agreed, just in case.

The old woman smiled terribly, showing me two rotten first years that had miraculously survived the pogrom. Her yellowed complexion looked like the peel of an old orange in the golden light of the magic lanterns. I thought with horror that maybe I looked like that too.

"But don't worry, ma'am," the old woman continued, still smiling. "They're disbanding these worthless police institutions all over the world. Our UOM will be gone soon too, you'll see, and with it all those nose-raising bureaucrats." Power will pass into the hands of the Magi, like in the good old days...

I looked at her in surprise. My mother had often said recently that before the creation of the Magical Police, independent of the authorities over two centuries ago, the world was a complete mess, and now they wanted to make it a mess all over again. And when it came to the Polish Council of Magicians, our official government, she used terms that made "idiots" seem almost a compliment. And somehow she couldn't believe the magical world had suddenly been freed from all evil.

"And here are our first candidates for the title of Master of Flying on Anything! The Suchocki Sisters!"

Two young witches waved to the crowd. Between them stood a very solid oak desk.

One of them smiled broadly and began to speak:

"Are you tired of constantly carrying documents? Don't want to waste time that could just as easily be spent at your desk? Don't have the money to buy a new desk? Dreaming of a portable desk? If this desk is the source of your troubles, we offer you the solution: the Suchocki Flying Desk!"

The second witch sat astride the desk and tapped it with her finger. The desk quivered and rose a meter high, then began to slowly rotate.

"Thanks to our invention, the problem of moving your desk no longer exists! Your desk is always where you are! At home, at work, at school, or at a party. Your documents are right at your fingertips..."

The witch leaned over the edge of the desk and opened one of the cabinets beneath. A stack of papers floated off the shelf and scattered freely in the air.

"...you can place your coffee on it..."

The coffee materialized precisely in the center, then, with a uniformly accelerated movement, began sliding toward the edge, spilling half its contents onto the desk. The witch grabbed the saucer at the last moment... and was left holding only the saucer, as the rest landed in a beautiful arc on the grass.

"...or even eat a second breakfast. For those short on time, we offer a model with an accelerator." All it takes is a tap on the tabletop and...

The desk surged upwards at breakneck speed, dragging the screaming witch clinging to the top edge! Only to plummet back down a moment later, still with the witch... And stop again a meter above the ground. The girl, panting heavily, lay down on the desk.

"And you can always look under the desk if you want!"

The desk flipped violently.

"That was pretty good," the woman next to me commented, as they finally scraped the young witch from the ground. "I'd buy one of those for my husband.

" "And here's the next candidate, who has something to show us?

" "A new model Pegasus," the witch declared proudly, pulling the terrified animal on a string. The donkey looked at the crowd with despair. Two wooden wings hung forlornly from its sides.

"It doesn't attract thieves' attention like traditional models. It's energy-efficient." She tugged on the string, and the donkey dug its front legs into the ground. "It only uses economical fuel, using five kilograms of hay per hundred kilometers. It's easy to operate." She jumped onto the animal's back and pulled on its ears. The donkey roared and galloped forward... only to find itself airborne a moment later. It began running in circles, bellowing with terror.

"Donkeys don't fly very high," someone commented in front of me.

"And if we want to stop... all we have to do is dismount."

She dismounted. The crowd held its breath for a moment... But the woman, fortunately, bounced off the cushion spell spread over the ground and landed safely. The donkey flew off into the blue distance.

"He'll come home," the witch commented, dusting off her cloak. "She knows where.

" "Excellent!" the host said. "Now we'll introduce the third candidate, Mrs. Katarzyna Krój!" Mrs. Catherine would like to show us her invention called... er...

"The Flying Rag." Mrs. Catherine, a sturdy village witch in traditional multicolored garb, finished, holding before her what looked like grayish cardboard, frayed at the edges.

"Very... sturdy," the host admitted, tapping the surface of the supposed rag.

"Well starched, ma'am! Better than all those flying carpets!

" "So, could you demonstrate..."

I scanned the crowd and suddenly felt cold. There stood my mother! And not only was she standing, she was staring at ME!

She recognized me.

"Sorry! Sorry!" I muttered, pushing through the crowd behind me. Only when I stepped outside did I breathe a sigh of relief. I had to finally find Aunt Clotilde!

I set off down the long and completely deserted back path that ran along the back of the tents. Somewhere further down there was the main path, and on it the layout of the Coven Circle. Wait, that must have been to the right...

"Caw!"

Something small, black, and terribly shaggy stood on the path in front of me. I examined the creature and, after some thought, decided that the furry broomstick dangling from behind it must be a tail. A black nose peeked out from under its lush mane.

"Doggy! Fluffy! Kaytek! Come on!" I called out to it, crouching down. Maybe it had lost its owner?

"Caw! Ciw!" the creature replied, approaching a little. But as soon as my hand tried to touch it, it jumped back violently.

"Caw! Ciw-ciw!"

It spun like a squirrel, coming and going. A few movies like "Lessie, Come Back!" came to mind.

"Want to show me something?" I asked. Maybe someone had murdered someone there and their faithful dog needed help? The dog was limping slightly on its left hind leg. In my mind's eye, I pictured a masked villain in a black cloak, landing a well-placed kick with his large boot. A kind of civic duty, mixed with an unstoppable curiosity, took root within me. I didn't know then that this feeling would haunt me for the rest of my life...

The dog stood sideways to the road, looking between me and the path ahead.

"Okay," I said, walking toward it. "Where is it?

" "Shh!" the mutt trotted ahead of me.

The dog led me to the outskirts of the Sabbat Circle. A solid, magical wall, as tall as a man, separated the Circle from the rest of the mountain. The nearest lantern illuminated the place with a hazy, mystical light. The walls of the living tents were black against the sky. In the distance, I heard the cheerful chatter of witches having fun. The faint scent of smoke and baking cookies hadn't yet reached the area, so the air was clean and cool. Eerie shadows seeped through the contours of the pine trees. I glanced around anxiously. The dog had dematerialized.

"Er... Fluffy? Pimpy?" I ventured.

Silence. I shrugged dramatically and was about to leave when something strange caught my attention. Like a subtle movement in the forest...

"Is anyone there?" I asked, my voice slightly hysterical. "Get out of here, you idiot! Run!" my instincts told me. Again, I didn't trust it. I turned back to the wall and looked around.

Something grabbed my arms and pulled me!

I fell backward, colliding with someone. They grabbed my wrists, twisted my arms behind my back, and clasped them in one strong hand, pressing the other to my mouth. It happened so quickly that I didn't even have time to react.

I tried to pull away, but I was too weak to pull away.

"Bwhhh?

" "Please, Grandma, not Pimpuś," a hoarse male voice, faintly resembling a growl, murmured in my ear. He wasn't the property of the Coven Master; a possible kidnapping for procreative purposes had to be ruled out immediately.

"Bbwh?

" "I'll let you go now, Grandma, and you won't do anything stupid. Like calling for help, running away, or saying the rosary. We'll stand here and talk like intelligent people, okay? And don't try to use magic, or you won't even live to see the Most Beautiful Witch Contest."

I nodded, too terrified to speak. Not that I was given much choice. My thoughts scattered to the corners of my mind like frightened mice, and I couldn't catch them.

The man's right hand moved away from my face, and I was about to scream in terror when something stopped me. Perhaps it was survival instinct, I don't know. After a moment, he released my wrists as well and stood before me.

The sight of him didn't lift my spirits at all, quite the opposite in fact. The young man's pale face glared at me with cruel, blood-red eyes... I felt a chill spread through my body, chilling me from the inside. It was that vampire! My terror clearly amused him, for he pulled his pale lips into a mocking smile, revealing a set of teeth strangely reminiscent of a wolf's. I shivered. With his mop of untidy, straw-colored hair, the almost purple shadows under his eyes, and his dirty, dark gray robes, he looked like an escaped madman. Even Bronchild's aunt was terrified of madmen.

I had the feeling he'd guessed my thoughts. Anyway, he stopped smiling and said in a quiet, almost gentle voice, as if soothing a child,

"Don't worry, Grandma. I haven't gone mad yet. Although I have to tell you, thanks to your Monster Hunters, I'm very, very close. I'm, you might say, desperate. "

I swallowed hard.

"You're a murderer!" I rasped.

"Oh, yes." His eyes flashed predatorily, and his lips curved into that cruel smile again. The icy cold had chilled me so much that my teeth were chattering. "And a serial killer, too. I specialize in decapitating and ripping out throats. But don't worry, if you're good, nothing will happen to you. Even I don't like moldy blood, Grandma." He took a small step toward me. "Although you don't even smell that bad...

" "Leave me alone!" "I'm sorry!" I squealed in a voice unlike my own, feeling the air starting to drain from my lungs. But I couldn't force myself to breathe. "Mommy, help!" I thought, "Mommy, I want to get out of here! He's going to kill me! Help! Someone come here! I'm begging you!"

The vampire grimaced in disgust.

"Stop being hysterical, Grandma!" he growled. "I just need your help to get out of this mess. Then I'll say goodbye to you without regret. There are toadstools everywhere... We have to have your broom, or I'll walk out of here like baking powder.

" "B-but I don't have a broom!" I managed. "It got lost along the way.

" "What do you mean?" the fugitive snorted. "What was that thing that came after you? A pool cue? That's fine too."

I glanced to the side and, to my utter astonishment, saw my own treacherous broomstick, leaning against the nearest tent as casually as if nothing had happened between us. Suddenly, I felt the world darken before my eyes...

I gasped for air.

"Okay, Grandma. You see, breathing isn't difficult at all."

I turned to face him. At that moment, I felt a sudden rage surge through me.

"I'm not a grandmother, you idiot!" I spat at the vampire, clenching my fists. "And I'm not going anywhere with you!" I stamped on the ground to emphasize my words.

"Leo, you lunatic! What are you doing? This is a grown vampire, and you're just a half-baked witch. He'll kill you before you even blink an eye!"

"Shut up, you childish old woman!" he hissed, grabbing me by the front of my robe and shaking me vigorously. He glanced around nervously, as if expecting a squad of Monster Hunters to emerge from behind the trees at any moment. Unfortunately, none of them had the foresight. He turned to face me and looked me straight in the eyes with those terrifying, red eyes. I couldn't stop my nervous trembling as he began to speak in a calm, yet ice-cold voice:

"Listen, Grandma. You have two choices: either help or die on the spot. I'm not joking. I'm in a desperate situation, and don't think I'll hesitate... Holy Blodwina, stop crying!

" "I-I c-can't..." I sobbed. "P-please don't k-kill me! M-Mom! I want to go home!"

The vampire froze. His eyes stared at me, narrowing ever more.

"Listen," he said after a very long moment, in a normal, almost friendly tone. "How old are you, exactly?

" "Ten," I confessed, swallowing back tears spasmodically.

Then, for the first time in my life, I saw a vampire completely taken aback. I must admit, it was a sight to behold. His jaw dropped almost to his chest, revealing a full set of vampire teeth; his red eyes were the size of two saucers. With a smudge of dirt on his right cheek and a half-length of hay stubbornly falling across his face, he looked rather comical. Suddenly, the urge to cry vanished, and I felt a little more confident. Maybe I could handle the thug.

"How did you manage that?" he asked, recovering from his astonishment. "You stole your grandmother's cream? No, that's simply unbelievable!"

He straightened and took two steps back, looking at me with genuine disbelief. His right hand went to his half-length blond hay and tried to tuck it behind his ear. The hay almost instantly returned to its original position.

"I... I used an aging charm," I explained, suddenly feeling very embarrassed.

Suddenly, he did something unbelievable. He snorted, sputtered, and his hands flew to his mouth. For a moment he stood, slightly bent over, shaking with silent laughter.

"No, I simply don't believe my rotten luck! Oh, merciful Goddess, why have you punished me like this?" he choked out between spasms of hysterical mirth.

Just when I was beginning to wonder if I could leave, he suddenly calmed down.

"Okay, baby. Every silver lining is a silver lining," he smiled maliciously, clearly pleased with himself. His cold eyes studied me carefully. "I can finally use you as a hostage. Beautiful wart. Mom will probably be delighted to see you."

Suddenly, I remembered what was probably waiting for me at home, and I felt like crying again.

"Mom's gonna kill me!" I was suddenly more terrified by the prospect of a screaming mother than a cold-blooded murderer.

"Stop crying, right now!" he said sharply, and to my surprise, I stopped. A sly smile spread across his face. "Listen, little one, I'm proposing a deal. You get me out of this mess, and I'll restore you to your former, wart-free self. Deal?

" "You're a wizard, aren't you?" I asked with sudden suspicion. I'd never heard of a vampire wizard in my life, and Miss Clementina stubbornly insisted that anyone bitten by a vampire lost their ability to see magic, and therefore cast spells.

"Yes, you're smart. If it weren't for that, I'd have been a vampire steak a long time ago. So, do you agree, or should I kill you and find someone else ?

" "Will you break the spell now?

" "No." The vampire suddenly frowned. "I'm not capable of doing that at the moment. If I were, I wouldn't be asking some snotty, artificially aged witch for help.

" "Why?

" "Look through the magic, little wise guy, and you'll see for yourself."

I looked. After a long moment of headache-inducing concentration, I managed to see that his magical aura consisted of two layers. The normal, multicolored one was on the outside, shielding the dark red one, which looked a bit like someone had doused his figure with purple goo. But I also noticed that the colored part was strangely dim and seemed to fade with each passing moment, as if something were sucking it out. I looked closely and realized that the stain I'd noticed on the right side of his robe wasn't mud at all, but dried blood.

"What happened?" I asked, staring at the stain.

"A silver arrow," the vampire said, grimacing. "A gift from the Hunters." It broke off, a piece of the tip lodged in my flesh. Thanks to the protection of the magical aura, it hadn't yet burned through my insides. But I can't get it out.

" "Wait, wait, wait!" I gasped, suddenly realizing what he wanted from me. "I can't!"

The mere thought of the hideous, burned wound and having to pull anything out of it made me feel very sick.

"Do you have any choice?" the vampire asked sweetly.

I considered my chances. He could kill me at any moment. And even if he didn't, my mother would finish the job. On the other hand, to help this madman, I'd have to have some tools. For that, I'd have to fly home. Dad might spot me, and then that vampire might kill him.

Dad is probably well after his tenth beer at this hour. I doubt he'd even notice another.

"Okay," I said after a moment. "But this broomstick is useless. Right, broomstick?"

The broomstick jumped with righteous indignation. Meanwhile, a rustling sound sounded nearby. Someone's laughter reached us from nearby.

The vampire paused for a moment, listening. His eyes scanned the forest thicket.

"We're getting out of here," he decided. "You'll lead us to the Coven Gate, and once we're out of the guards' sight, we'll fly away. And don't try any tricks."

"But how are you going to..."

A black dog stood before me.

"You stupid mutt!" I exclaimed in righteous indignation. "Is that it?"

The creature growled, revealing white tusks. A pair of red eyes flashed at me from beneath a mane of black hair. He didn't look pleasant at all at that moment.

I sighed grimly and, grabbing the broom that was unceremoniously leaning against me, I led the way.

**

I could still feel the red eyes boring into my back. I could finally try to escape. In the crowds like the ones around the stalls, he might not have tried to chase me. Well, yes, but then he would have caught me in some dark alley... You shouldn't take chances with lunatics. Aunt Zuzanna, our family wedding and divorce specialist (28 times), took the risk on the 17th occasion and then had to go to the Magic Sanatorium for the Seriously Anxious for three months. Bronchild's aunt used to say later that she would "never forget the sight of her husband."

"That's an absolute rip-off! Ten zlotys for a scale, who's ever seen that!

" "No rip-off, that's the market price, lady! If you want the elixir, you have to pay!

" "If it weren't for the exorbitant price of the finished elixir, I wouldn't even consider buying those scales! And so small! You must have snatched them from under the dragon's tail!"

I glanced at the stall where a stout, brown-haired woman with her hair in a bun was selling various details of dragon anatomy. The buyer, a tall, thin woman with the eyes of a vulture, squinted at the scales scattered on the counter in front of her.

"What are you talking about, lady! These are honest scales from a dragon's back!" the seller exclaimed indignantly. "

Could it be? Then it must have been a miniature dragon!" Did you pluck your pet? Show me NORMAL scales!

"Kruella DeVin, Kruella DeVin! What a striking sight and such an angry expression..." I hummed, momentarily forgetting about the red eyes.

"Not DeMon, Wolvein. Not much better either," commented a passing witch.

I glanced after her, but she had already disappeared into the crowd. However, the gentle growl of a certain shaggy dog ​​effectively reminded me that I was under fire.

"Witches! Come! Time to begin the Fire Dance!" came a call from somewhere behind me. The voice undoubtedly belonged to the Coven Master. Most of the witches running errands rushed en masse toward the main stage, calling to each other, shouting, singing songs with subtext, and laughing loudly. I sighed heavily and trudged on. Well, that was MY rotten luck. I doubted the red-eyed torturer would be inclined to delay even a moment.

"No clothes?" one of the young witches asked.

"You're only talking about one thing!" her friend reprimanded, waving a long, black claw in her face.

"And what do we need clothes for?" It's going to be hot anyway! Anyone who's shy shouldn't participate!" the third woman, wielding a large cotton candy, agreed enthusiastically.

"Oooh, when the Master sees me, he won't want anyone else!

" "You clearly think too highly of yourself, Lutetia!

" "What a lovely dog! What's her name?

" "Grrrrrr!

" "Uh... Pimpuś," I explained hastily. "Be careful, she bites.

" "Grrrrrrrrrr!

" The paths had cleared a bit, so it was a bit easier to move around. Some gave me puzzled glances, but I think most dismissed it as "another quirk of old Baba Yaga's." Soon we reached the edge of the Circle.

Dragon-eating Ivy parted to let us through. As I emerged, one of the Hunters lurking at the gate looked up from his game of Wizard's Gambit. Half-drunk mugs of beer lined the table, and a sizable supply of the sunny beverage was also piled against the wall of a small wooden booth. The man clearly didn't feel like getting up.

"So early?" he asked in surprise, taking another long swig.

"Grandma must have gotten bored. It's a bad summer, isn't it?" the second man offered an intelligent observation, leaning back in his chair. I glanced at his cards and decided he had a good chance of winning.

"Yes," I muttered, overcoming the urge to tell them that the Sangoscope leaning against the wall was glowing red. They clearly hadn't noticed it themselves...

I set off along the wide, stone path, entering the forest just around the bend. After a good few dozen meters, the mutt barked softly. I stopped.

"You looked like you were about to inform those imbeciles about the Sangoscope," the vampire told me, his voice trembling slightly. I wasn't sure if it was from anger or tension. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"

"Terrible," I grumbled, climbing onto the broom. "Can't you change? She might not be able to carry us."

"I can't," the vampire replied coldly. "In dog form, that shard is proportionately larger and causes proportionately more pain.

" "I'm so sorry," I replied without any sympathy. "Get in."

The vampire took a seat behind me, gripping the broom handle just behind my hands. I could almost feel his breath on my hair. It wasn't a pleasant feeling; I felt like he was about to stab me in the back or plunge his teeth into my throat.

"Let's go!" I said to the broom. It didn't even move.

"Didn't I tell you?" I muttered grimly. "Objective persuasion doesn't work.

" "Objective persuasion?" the vampire asked. He ran his fingernail along the handle, carving a deep indentation. Sawdust flew to the ground. "You could cut it off with a saw..."

The broom jumped and soared upwards with such violence that I gasped. I'd never seen it fly so fast! The treetops flickered beneath our feet as we sped south, illuminated by the soft moonlight. I closed my eyes, feeling the cool breeze on my cheeks. Just take it easy...

"Where are we going?" the vampire asked suddenly.

"To my house.

" "You must be crazy!

" "No! Mom's a doctor and has the supplies I need. And now no one's here except my drunk dad and sister, but she's asleep.

" "Drunk is usually worse than sober. He doesn't know the difference between a Taking Curse and a Killing Curse.

" "Dad's a nem. And when he gets drunk, he doesn't know his own daughter from a stool.

" "Fine."

I sighed heavily. This was going to be hard, very hard. This wasn't what I wanted when I tried to age myself last night! I'd hoped the red-eyed bloodsucker would at least help me reverse the spell. Then he could go to hell.

"What's your name?

" "What?

" "I'm asking, you old brat!

" "What's your name?

" "I like to call a spade a spade."

"Leo Stęporek," I growled. "Maybe he'll finally back off?

" "Glad to hear it. Teodor Restaud, at your service. I wonder how you managed to advance so many years? Girls don't usually do it willingly.

" "Too much Air Magic," I grumbled. "It's gotten out of control.

" "Amazing," he muttered. "We should patent that..." Damn it!

He choked out the last word. His hands gripped the handle so tightly that his knuckles turned white. I heard his breathing quicken.

"They've scanned the air with their magic radar. They already know I'm here, and we'll probably be in hot pursuit soon. How much further?"

"Y-yeah," I stammered, pointing at the lights below. In my mind's eye, I saw Monster Hunters racing after us on broomsticks, firing spells at us. And then the broomstick shattered and we plummeted towards certain death...

"We're going down!" I screamed as the vampire swerved sharply toward the streetlights visible far, far below. I had no idea how high we were flying until I felt it firsthand. The air whistled in my ears. My stomach clenched painfully and my eyes filled with tears...

"Not so fast! We'll crash!

" "Calm down!" the vampire growled, braking abruptly about two meters above the ground. Something I'd eaten that evening suddenly lodged in my throat. "I had to do that to confuse them. It'll be a while before they find me."

Now we were flying at the height of the foggy streetlights, illuminating the wet asphalt with golden light and the drops on the tree leaves. The houses glowed faintly or stood in semi-darkness. All the lights in the windows had long since gone out, and it seemed as if no one lived there. A car drove by just below us.

"This is it," I finally pointed to a house on the left side of the street. We made a gentle curve and landed on my balcony. The balcony window was ajar. I gently opened it, and we stepped into the warm darkness.

"Wait here a moment," I murmured, turning on the light. The vampire sat on my bed and looked around curiously. I blushed slightly; clothes and a rolled-up Sailor Moon poster were scattered on the floor, and the desk was piled high with books, notebooks, sheets of paper, and comics, among which were numerous pens, crayons, clips, candy wrappers, and three unwashed plates.

I left the room and headed for the bathroom. In the next room, my one-year-old sister was sleeping peacefully, oblivious to the numerous activities. From downstairs, I could hear my father's arrhythmic snoring.

"Max! Pssst! Max!" I knocked on the surface of the still mirror. A moment later, the face of a sleepy elf appeared.

"What now?" he asked, yawning majestically. "Is it you again? I see you still look the same as before. I think it's time to move, then; tomorrow morning there will be a lot of breaking mirrors.

" "I need your help. Do you know where Mom hid that enormous stash of bandages? I also need a bottle of rubbing alcohol.

" "What have you done to yourself, girl?" the elf asked, concerned. "Were you trying to commit Sepuku?"

"No, not me. Where is it?"

"The bandages are in the basement, on the bottom shelf of the wooden shelf, the one Mom covered with anti-rodent scent discs. My condolences." And you'll find the spirit in your father's desk drawer; he just hid it there yesterday.

**

"What do you need that bottle of spirit for?" I heard a hint of terror in the vampire's voice.

"Wounds need disinfecting," I explained in a scientific tone.

"Can I drink half first?" he asked.

"No. It's not mine.

" "Fine," he growled. "Then give me a piece of leather."

I looked at him with a frightened look. He looked quite furious. Would he dare kill me in my own home? A chill ran through me, and I quickly fetched him an old belt from my father's closet.

"Lie down," I said in a surprisingly calm voice, pointing to an old sheet spread on the ground. I had no idea how to remove anything from wounds; all I'd witnessed was a splinter being pulled out.

The vampire removed his outer robe and unbuttoned his shirt. What I saw underneath made me feel slightly nauseous. Just below the last rib was a black patch of charred skin, revealing living flesh. The center of the wound seemed slightly sunken.

"The arrow is deeper. You have to reach with your fingers." "He said, lying on his good side. He folded the strip into quarters and stuffed it into his mouth, clenching his jaw. He motioned for me to begin.

I put on a glove and looked at the wound in horror. I was afraid to even touch it, let alone put my hand in! I knelt beside him and brushed my hand across the wound. He hissed furiously and clenched his jaw tighter.

I took a deep breath. Mom always told me I had the makings of a doctor; it was time to get it checked out. I looked at the wound and shuddered. After a moment's thought, I squeezed my eyes shut and groped around the wound, ignoring the muffled groans. Yes, there was a distinct indentation here; now all I had to do was reach in...

In one movement, I slid my hand inside the wound, recoiling with disgust. Live flesh..." A muffled scream rang out, and I felt a sharp tug.

"Lie still," I said, still surprisingly calm. Maybe I really was a doctor? I dug my fingers deeper, ignoring the whimper escaping the vampire's throat. Finally, my fingertips felt something hard and hot. I touched the object and, gently grasping it between two fingers, began to slowly pull it out. The vampire howled. After a moment, I felt the wound give way...

"There it is!" I announced triumphantly, earning a grunt from the vampire in thanks. I opened my eyes and curiously examined the silver arrowhead, which was slowly cooling. It was triangular, with sharp tips. I looked at the wound, which no longer looked like a charred pancake. The pit in the center was ragged, and fresh blood was flowing freely from it, dripping down the vampire's abdomen. He spat out the strip, now riddled with holes, and wiped the sweat from his face. His lips were bluish, and his eyes stared blankly ahead.

"Are you alive?" I asked, splashing alcohol liberally on the wound. The unsuspecting man screamed and bit his forearm.

"Oh, sorry," I muttered, screwing the cap back on the bottle. Now blood was also leaking from the torn limb. At least for a moment, because the wound healed and disappeared almost immediately.

"You could have at least warned me!" the vampire growled, glaring at me.

"I'm sorry. I'm just trying to help," I squealed, jumping away from him.

The vampire cursed viciously under his breath and wrapped the wound with a self-twisting bandage. I stared at him in surprise.

"Why doesn't this wound disappear at all?"

The vampire looked ahead grimly.

"That's what I was afraid of," he muttered, half to himself. "The fun isn't over yet." "

You have to break the spell," I said firmly, rising from the ground. The vampire rose too, wincing slightly. With a single kick, he threw the bloody sheet aside. He buttoned his shirt and gray robe, then commanded,

"Stand in the center!"

I stood obediently and looked at him curiously. He ran his fingers through the hay, which had become even more ruffled, and glanced toward the window. Half the moon glowed with a mocking light.

"The waxing moon. Divine time for counter-spells! You always have to make things difficult, don't you?" he snorted.

"You can't do it either?" I groaned. "You promised!" I added accusingly.

"I didn't say anything like that!" the vampire retorted.

In a fluid motion, he lifted his hands, fingertips clasped together. He lowered them slowly, fixing me with his red eyes and muttering something under his breath that looked like prayers to some goddess. Suddenly, I felt as if someone had poured a bucket of ice water over me. And in that moment, I noticed something changing inside me. I watched, fascinated, as my hands became less wrinkled, my skin taking on a healthy, pink hue...

"Are you sure you don't want it to stay that way?" "The vampire suddenly asked with a strange expression. His eyes seemed to pierce me.

I raised my eyebrows in surprise. He shrugged and continued the spell.

Suddenly, I began to shrink! I gasped in surprise and gripped my outfit, which suddenly felt far too big...

"That's it. Now you can wear something your size," the vampire said, still looking at me strangely. Or maybe it just looked that way from my perspective? I suddenly felt very small. I grabbed my uniformly tar-colored jeans and sweater and, dragging the bundles of robes behind me, headed for the bathroom, almost killing the experimental hamster, who was clearly nocturnal.

"You don't have to move anymore," I told Max, who was watching me doubtfully.

When I returned to the room, the vampire, unfortunately, hadn't left yet. Instead, he was sitting on the ground, leaning against the wardrobe, examining his nails with a grim expression. His lips were blue again, and his eyes were glazed over as if in a fever.

"What's going on?" I asked cautiously, afraid to anger him.

"I'm losing blood," he replied calmly, as if it were part of his daily routine. I must have been staring, because after a moment, he added in an irritated tone,

"Vampire blood doesn't clot. Therefore, if a vampire's wound doesn't heal on its own, the blood will continue to flow until it drains out completely. Finished. "

In my vivid imagination, I pictured myself with a bloody corpse in the room. And my mother, looking on with a mixture of shock and horror. I felt sick again.

"Is there any way to heal this wound?" I asked uncertainly. Mom had quite a collection of various strange potions, after all, which she'd managed to accumulate over years of medical practice.

"Sure," the vampire snorted. "We need to draw some blood from that Zenek who left me a silver gift and pour it on the wound. Then it'll heal. The problem is, Zenek is in this hospital here, the partially magical one, with his head bashed in, and there are so many anti-vampire alarms around him that Bond would sell ten of his girlfriends for one. The UOM arranged it for him because apparently Zenek is the son of some big shot; they don't give that to normal people. Anything vampire-like that appears within a five-meter radius will be immediately eliminated.

I listened to this in stunned silence, a thousand thoughts racing through my mind. I could have left the vampire to go away and die somewhere. But he might have refused to leave, and then I'd have received a single corpse as a gift. I'd be afraid to sleep in that room for the rest of my life. I could have also tried to get him that blood. My mother, even though she worked with nemes, sometimes took me to the Magical Diseases Ward there to learn a bit of "other medicine." I knew half the nurses there. And a three-year-old could draw blood with a Self-Sighting Syringe.

Even if it didn't work, at least I'd get rid of a vampire in the apartment. Good.

"Take me there and I'll give you blood," I said confidently. "I know how to do it. "

He raised an eyebrow in surprise.

"Okay," he muttered, not resisting too much. "If you say so... Come on!

" "Not on a broomstick?" I asked, following him down the stairs as quietly as possible. Honestly, I had no idea they creaked so terribly loudly! We stepped out through the porch into the yard and onto the street.

"No, they would have caught us immediately," he replied, glancing around. His eyes landed on a Polonez parked nearby. "There's our mode of transportation!

" "It's our neighbors' car!" I protested.

"Perfect. Otherwise, he'd still be standing there," the vampire announced, getting inside. Having little choice, I sat in the front seat. I felt terrible. We were stealing our neighbors' car! I wouldn't be able to look them in the eye for a week.

The vampire, who clearly had no moral scruples, tapped his finger nonchalantly on the dashboard. The car roared on, completely oblivious to the lack of a key in the ignition.

"Hmm... I guess we need to change gears, or whatever you call it..." the vampire muttered to himself, examining the dashboard. "That little brat?" He flicked the paddle behind the steering wheel, turning on the windshield wipers. The car jerked violently and stopped.

"Ow!" the vampire gasped, now cheese-faced, clutching his side.

"The gearbox is here," I squeaked, pointing to the object to my left.

"I haven't driven this in ages," the vampire apologized, shifting into third gear and starting the engine. The engine roared in protest. I squeezed my eyes shut, wondering how long it would be before some neighbor looked out the window to see what the hell was going on.

The vampire eyed the gearbox thoughtfully, then shifted into first, and we finally set off.

"Do you know how to get there?" he asked, driving down one of the city's main streets. It was empty, deserted, and wet. I thought the magical city, which was only twenty kilometers away, must look similar at this time of day. Sunday here, Beltane there...

"Well... By the look of it."

He looked at me with obvious distrust.

"Then drive. Right or left?"

I panicked. My sense of direction always went out at moments like these.

"Uh... Left... No, no! Right! Err... Now straight down this street... Just past the roundabout, to the left... I mean right! No, not THAT right, that was the next right!

" The vampire cursed under his breath and turned around.

"Now straight, I mean left... No, we're going right!" Now it's the second roundabout, very right here...

- How much?

- Very, very.

- I understood perfectly.

- That's the wrong right, it was even further right there!

- WHERE?

- There, behind that dilapidated building, the little one blocked it.

- Ah.

- Now straight ahead and now it's left, turn left... why did you turn right?

- I turned left!

- Oops, indeed. Now turn right.

- And where NOW?

I looked at him with fear. He had the same expression as my dad behind the wheel. Only my dad didn't have fangs.

- It's almost there. Just around the bend.

- Thanks, Blodwin!

We pulled into a nearly empty parking lot in front of a gloomy gray building. The glow from the few streetlights lining the sidewalk further accentuated the long cracks in the plaster. It was quiet and empty, with only a few windows alight, most of them where the intensive care unit was located.

"So what now, you clever little one?" the vampire asked as we approached the wide glass doors leading to the main hall and reception area.

"You wait inside while I draw some blood. This is a half-magical hospital; the all-magical one is far from here.

" "I'm not afraid of Nomes yet," the vampire snorted, pushing open the door. "Besides, they can't see me anyway."

We entered the warm interior. The reception area was empty and dark, as was the hall. A single light filtered down from the stairwell, spreading like a bright spot on the floor. I felt myself becoming a little afraid. I'd never really been here alone, and my mom tended to avoid the Magical Ward on the principle of "having as little to do with those lunatics as possible." Sure, the nurses knew me, but I somehow had the feeling they wouldn't believe I'd come here to visit my mom. And I couldn't think of any other reason.

"Are you coming or not?" a vampire urged me, sitting on one of the wooden chairs nailed together in a neat row. He looked as if he were chewing a lemon.

"Er... I..." I hesitated suddenly. What if they caught me? I'd get an even worse beating than if Mom had discovered my failed spell. After all, she'd forbidden me from wandering around town alone after eight o'clock. And it was already well after eight.

The vampire buried his face in his hands and sighed deeply.

"Listen, little one," he said in an exceptionally pleasant tone, "if you're thinking about helping a murderer, I'll tell you, I don't like being a murderer either." I killed that man out of necessity.

I don't know where I found the courage to look him straight in the eye and say the next two words. I felt as if, for a moment, I'd become a different person. The heroic husband from "Die Hard" would surely be proud of me, even if I couldn't swear that well.

"Don't be silly. He

didn't kill me." His eyes flashed coldly, and a small smile crept across his kind face, making me swallow nervously.

"You're right, Lioness. It was revenge. Are you coming or not?"

I nodded and ran toward the stairwell. As I climbed the stone steps, I took a deep breath. If I had the courage to face a cold-blooded killer, surely I had enough to face the two nurses on duty? It was just a shame that the higher I climbed, the less courage I had. So much so that by the time I reached the third floor, it had vanished without a trace.

The normally bright and blindingly white corridor was now shrouded in darkness. After a moment's thought, I reached to my neck and removed the Amulet of Return, pocketing it. This would reduce the number of people who might see me.

A pale shadow moved in front of me, and I barely stifled a scream. The man in the striped dressing gown continued down the corridor, ignoring me in the slightest. I quietly slipped past the main on-call room, where through a crack I saw a doctor with a bored expression, flipping through the channels. I passed the glass entrances to Internal Medicine Wards I and II, and placed my hand on a metal rectangle set into the white oil-painted wall. A section of it dematerialized silently, and I slipped inside.

"Come on, Hortensia. This is your sixth cup of coffee. You'll sooner die of hypertension than ward off sleep."

I froze. My heart pounding, I listened as something rustled and someone let out a deep sigh.

"If you'd just let me pour you a little bit of the Elixir of Eternal Vigilance...

" "You know they make it with cocaine and dragon's milk. We're held accountable for every dose. Do you feel like explaining yourself later?" The UOM was getting more and more aggressive as the end of his term approached.

"In five years, thankfully, all this madness will be over.

" Laughter.

"You'll see, it's only just beginning. Wizards, the dog bit them!

" "Then tell me about this cousin of yours and her antics yesterday at Marta's name day."

I tiptoed past the door. At that moment, I remembered that I didn't know what this guy looked like or which room he was in! I slapped my hand against my forehead. But before I could really hurt myself, I noticed a red light flashing further down the corridor. I peered into the dark interior of room 7A. On the non-slip floor stood a single bed, on which lay a man with a bandaged head. The moonlight cast horizontal streaks across his pale, sleeping face.

I stepped inside, trying to be as quiet as possible. My heart was beating so hard it drowned out the sound of the wind that had just picked up, shredding the treetops. My gaze fell on a white cabinet in the corner, right next to the diagnostic table. It contained healing potions, a first aid kit, bandages, syringes, and a stack of whitish sachets without any labels. I opened the glass door and examined the syringes. After some thought, I took three of them, each bearing the symbol of a broken wand, and went to the window. In the pale moonlight, I read the labels on the packages: "syringe for intramuscular injections," "syringe for intravenous injections," and "syringe for blood collection." The latter was quite large. I hoped this amount would be enough for the vampire. I tore open the package, and a needle appeared at the end. Now came the hardest part.

The man's hand lay facedown on the duvet, and I had no idea how to move it without waking him. I looked around in panic. But help came nowhere, so, my heart leaping into my throat, I grabbed his wrist and gently turned my hand, keeping my gaze fixed on his still face.

He didn't wake. I gently touched his skin with the tip of the needle and released the syringe, which in one smooth movement slid into a purplish vein. My eyes widened as it slowly filled with dark red fluid. The man continued to sleep peacefully, unaware that someone was taking his blood. I pulled the syringe from his body, intending to leave, when I noticed blood was still leaking from the small wound...

Gauze! I grabbed a piece and pressed it to the wound. The man gasped slightly. I froze, my heart pounding in my throat, but thankfully, he didn't open his eyes. I quickly pocketed the gauze and, clutching the syringe, slipped out into the hallway.

"And I tell her to leave the poor animal alone, and she doesn't! She's still kissing that frog, she's a madwoman, and stubbornly insists it's her Kazimierz, whom the traffic police caught driving a tractor drunk... I told her that the Nomes don't turn people into frogs, and Kazimierz is in custody on Kasprzyńska Street. But she can't get through to me...

I opened the door to the ward...

"Hello! Is anyone there?

" ...and closed it. I ran down the stairs, almost breaking my legs twice on the steep steps. The vampire was still sitting on a wooden chair, curiously examining some leaflet. How he managed to read anything in that darkness, I had no idea. When he saw me, he looked up. His eyes sparkled like two rubies.

"Y-you," I stammered, handing him the syringe with a shaking hand. Only now did I notice I was trembling, and worse yet, I couldn't stop it.

He smiled, his hungry gaze fixed on the syringe. With quick, impatient movements, he unbuttoned his robe and shirt, then with a hasty, muttered spell, removed the bandage. My eyes widened. The wound wasn't bleeding at all!

"You tricked me!" I exclaimed with barely concealed indignation.

"Of course. I would have bled to death by now, you foolish witch," he replied calmly, not looking at me. He removed the needle and, pressing firmly, squirted its contents onto the wound. The blood hissed, forming a small red swirl that quickly thickened, thinned, and... vanished, leaving behind healthy flesh.

"Blood magic. Oldie, but goodie," the vampire explained. Then, with a sadistic smile, he poured the rest into his mouth. He clicked his tongue. I felt myself turning nauseous.

"Pig!" I growled, feeling rage welling up inside me.

"Don't get upset, Lioness," the vampire wagged his finger at me. "I had to get you to cooperate eventually, didn't I?

" "I hate you," I said vengefully.

He bared his fangs.

"You're not the first. Come on, I'll take you home. I owe you something,

after all." He buttoned his clothes and stood up, stretching vigorously. He walked ahead, and I followed, staring at the back of his head with a hateful glare. I so desperately wanted the Monster Hunters to suddenly materialize before us and give him a really good beating...

The vampire opened the door and froze for a moment.

I peered around him cautiously. Beyond the dim lamplight, the hedge looked like a black hole...

"There it is! Behind it!

" "Come here!" he growled, and, grabbing my hand roughly, pulled me back into the building. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw five silhouettes in green uniforms, each wielding a strange-looking weapon...

"Ow! Let go! That hurts!" I screamed desperately, dragged down the dark corridor. I felt as if he were about to rip my arm off as I practically flew after him down the corridor. "Let me go! Let me go! "

Something whistled past my head. The vampire spun violently and leaned against the wall. I landed on my knees on the floor. A hail of arrows flew sideways and bounced off the wall. Someone screamed. Lights came on somewhere behind us.

"Damn wound!" the vampire rasped, panting heavily. "I could have run so much faster!"

I snapped out of the daze of my fall and looked at my forearm, clutched tightly in his hand.

"Let go, you thug!" I screamed, and in a burst of wild inspiration, I sank my teeth into the limb holding me. The vampire let out a surprised yelp and loosened his grip. I broke free, fleeing to the other side of the corridor. A disgusting, salty taste filled my mouth.

"There! Catch him!"

The vampire raised his hand in a flash, and several arrows ricocheted off the invisible barrier. Three men appeared at the end of the corridor. He broke into flight, the Monster Hunters right behind him, completely ignoring my presence.

After a moment, the sharp-toothed fugitive stopped abruptly, realizing a solid wall blocked his path. He suddenly turned to face the Hunters... On his face was that terrible, cold smile that would haunt my nightmares for a long time... His hands rose, and his eyes flashed predatorily... Before the Hunters could move, hurricane-force magic flattened them against the walls.

The weapon clattered to the ground, followed by three unconscious bodies. I watched with a mixture of awe and horror. It was sorcery! The vampire staggered slightly and lowered his hands. He looked utterly exhausted. He walked unsteadily past the bodies lying in unnatural poses, heading towards me. I froze, pressed against the wall. Now he would surely kill me! I tried not to breathe, thinking all the time that my heart was beating hard, too hard...

A flash of light brushed my face. The vampire flinched and tried to jump away, but he couldn't. The light struck him squarely in the chest, shooting tiny threads around his form, instantly entangling him like a spider's web... He fell! A terrible growl escaped his throat as he struggled ineffectively against his bonds.

"We have a bloodsucker!"

Two hunters caught up with the furiously struggling vampire, now looking like a wild beast caught in a trap. His eyes gleamed bloodily, and his fangs were bared as he glared at the men with pure hatred.

"You tried to escape, spawn of Satan?" one of them asked in a voice full of cruel satisfaction. His leg lifted and he delivered a powerful kick to the fallen vampire. His companion grabbed the prisoner by the throat and, wrapping his fingers around his neck, yanked him upward.

"You can't escape from us, you wretched bug," he muttered in an icy voice. "We know what you did to one of us. You'll regret not killing you the first time."

With his other hand, he pulled a silver arrow from his belt and waved it at the vampire's wide eyes. I watched as if it were a scene from a horror movie. I didn't even notice I'd started biting my nails. The dim light, the rasping sound of a victim struggling for breath, and against it, the strangely calm voice of the Hunter... The man, with an almost pleasant smile, touched the vampire's cheek... The sizzle of burning flesh...

Pressing my hands to my mouth, I threw myself blindly forward, spurred on by an inhuman howl. Where am I? Where am I? Help! I want to go home!

"Maaaaa!" I howled, bursting into the hall. "Maaaaa!

" "Leo? Leo! What are you doing here? Mother of God, Leo!"

Someone grabbed my arms and held me down. I looked into the terrified face of Mrs. Stefania, the head nurse.

"Leo, my dear! What happened?

" "T-there... O-they... O-they..." I blurted out, pointing a trembling finger in the direction I'd just come from.

"It's all right, child. That terrible bandit has been caught! He won't hurt you." "Mrs. Stefania consoled me, hugging me to her ample chest.

"I want to go home," I muttered, wiping my face on my white coat.

"Sir!

" "Yes?

" "Could you take this girl home? I'll give you the address in a moment...

" "Sure, no problem."

Mrs. Stefania began searching for the address in her notebook. I turned and looked at the young man in the green Hunter's uniform. He smiled broadly at me.

"Oh, right here."

The Hunter took the notebook from Mrs. Stefania and read the address. He nodded.

"Go, child. This kind gentleman will escort you home..."

Another shriek echoed from somewhere behind us.

**

My mother, of course, had learned that her daughter, by some incomprehensible coincidence, had been exactly where the vampire had been caught. Fortunately, the ensuing brawl wasn't strong enough to shatter the mirrors, for which Max was immensely grateful. My father suffered the most, especially since my mother returned to find twelve empty beer cans and a blissfully snoring father in the living room. My sister further devastated him, artistically portraying a starving and deeply neglected creature. It must be admitted that my mother, in her colorful outfit, smeared makeup, and brandishing a torch blazing with flames, looked very menacing. In the crucible of this massive brawl, the reason for my mysterious hospital stay somehow escaped her notice, especially since I stubbornly insisted I'd gone there to fetch her.

My friend Agness initially refused to forgive me for going to the Sabbath alone. She softened somewhat when I told her about the chilling events of Walpurgisnacht. I just don't know why she was most interested in what a vampire looked like without clothes...

As for the vampire himself, he remained a major topic of conversation long after the official announcement on CTV about the predator's capture. People passed on rumors of a terrible battle fought by the UOM with this monster, which, it was said, at the very end transformed into a fire-breathing dragon (according to other versions, a demon) and attempted to wipe out three regiments of Monster Hunters. But then, a former victim of the vampire, a certain Marek Sikorski, stepped in and, with his head wrapped in a bandage and a silver sword in his hand, he lunged at the monster, severing all ten of its heads in one fell swoop, thus avenging his fallen comrade. Aunt Bronchilda, arriving one day to our family's horror, declared that the vampire was alive, but that she didn't envy the devil's spawn. Aunt Zuzanna, however, put us to the ultimate test, saying that the vampire had escaped on a white steed, and besides, he was an incredibly handsome man, and proposed marriage to Aunt Zuzanna, kidnapping her on that steed. So she plans to divorce her 29th husband and surrender herself to the bloodsucker's divine arms.

I listened with genuine interest. Not that I was particularly curious about the fate of this murderer. Although every time I saw the green uniform on the screen, my heart leaped into my throat. My mother would look at me strangely then, but she didn't say anything...

**

Three weeks later, I was lying in bed, flipping through the new issue of Sailor Moon and munching on a giant bowl of potato chips. A radio tuned to some magical station played in the background. The experimental hamster, thanks to another round of spells, had learned to do a backflip, which he was practicing diligently on his desk. It was just a shame he didn't know when to stop...

Suddenly, the door to the room flew open. The Sailor Moon poster slid sadly against the glass and fell to the floor, curling up.

"May I?" Dad asked, peering inside.

"Sure," I said, shifting to a sitting position.

Dad looked uncertain, clutching a white envelope in his hand.

"I think you have a letter from someone," he said. "I have no idea who could have written you, but still..." I barely managed to snatch it from Mom, who insisted someone had sent you an evil spell and wanted to open it with an axe.

"You can never be too careful!" Mom said from the other room.

He handed me an envelope and left, closing the door behind him. I stared at it in amazement. Anyone who would send me anything was beyond me. I saw Agness almost every day, after all. The address was written in a neat, slightly cursive hand. The sender's name was nowhere to be seen.

I tore open the envelope and reached inside, pulling out a sheet of cream-colored writing paper. It contained only three lines of text.

"Goodbye, Lion! I hope we meet again someday in more peaceful circumstances.

Teodor R."

I stared at the note in silent astonishment. Mom was arguing loudly with Dad in the other room. My sister was banging on the crib rails with a new rattle. And the radio played in the background, as if in defiance, an old song from an April night...

Don't let your face falter

When the fires darken the east!

Walpurgis Night begins.

Today you will see many a miracle!

Through forests and streams,

the spirits of light fly towards us! The years want to kindle a flame

with ancient customs ! Bel is already welcoming his guests, the strongest ladies in the world! In a circle of warmth and love, he blesses us all! The year has come full circle. Time to light a new dawn! Let's dance, let's have fun. Bel's fire has come to life!

And finally, the dawn has come...