Annazuz

Someone walking along the Hare Trail through the forest this afternoon might accidentally stumble over a girl kneeling on the path. They would see light brown hair pulled back in a ponytail, the back of a light green T-shirt, blue jeans, and a school backpack thrown nearby. Before they tripped, of course. Then they would look into a pale face and clear brown eyes.

Zuzanna was walking back the exact same way she had just half an hour ago, returning from school.

"I have to find him. I'll find him."

She followed the path through the forest. It was shorter, more interesting, and away from the busy street that stretched at the foot of the Jama. Now she regretted it. She could have chosen the dirty, exhaust-smelling path along the road. Maybe then she would have found the ring faster.

She walked up the path. To the right were trees. In front of them were bushes. In front of the bushes, right next to the path, stood benches that had been placed there two years ago. Thanks to the rebellious retirees who boycotted the city hall and the mayor, forcing them to clear the Hare Trail and install sturdy benches—"that would provide support not only for tired legs, but also for troubled souls"—one of the retirees wrote in a petition.

It was Elżbieta Los, Zuzanna's grandmother. She was still alive at the time. Unfortunately, while clearing the road of trees, Elżbieta suffered a severe heart attack. "Her heart broke with old age"—these were the words Zuzanna heard from her mother when they left the hospital.

Usually, on every other bench sat an ailing elderly couple, enjoying the view of the last green corner unconsumed by the achievements of civilization. With their faces turned toward the city panorama and the mountains rising above, they quietly reminisced about the good old days.

The girl knew all too well how good those times were. Often, walking home alone from school, she would be invited to a bench and fed stories from years past. It was quite tedious and time-consuming. The girl often chuckled to herself as she heard the same story ten times in a row, in tenth modified versions. She didn't change her route. She enjoyed these confessions. She felt they needed it. But she needed them more. In their eyes, she saw her grandmother's eyes.

Very often, on her walks, she encountered the ailing professor who had once taught at the high school in Jama. A gray-haired old woman with a high bun, a wooden cane, pushing forward relentlessly. Or a man in dark glasses, a dog on a leash and a white cane. He alone gazed out at the city, unseeing.

But she wasn't the only one returning from school along the Hare Trail. Sometimes a group of other students, chattering, laughing, and laughing, passed her by and disappeared around the bend.

With her nose to the ground and her hands cut by the wild blackberries, she stubbornly searched for her precious lost treasure.

She headed toward a tunnel of bushes whose branches formed a low, domed roof. She stepped inside. She looked around. She crouched.

"Why did I come here?" she thought. "I didn't crawl under the bushes on my way home from school." And she delved deeper.

She heard a scream like nothing she'd ever heard before. It was a woman's voice. She glanced back, her feet illuminated by the afternoon sun. She hadn't gone far. She couldn't hear a sound on the path. She was surprised. Another scream. She backed away abruptly, but carefully, so that no one would hear her. She thought of her cell phone. She pulled her phone out of her pocket. She dialed the stored police number. "Battery flat," she read on the miniature screen. She mentally cursed the old, dead batteries. Another scream, and silence, a long silence. She didn't know what to do. The only thing that came to mind was a phrase that perfectly matched her mood. Nothing was going well for her, first two on the test, then the ring, now her cell phone. "Sometimes there are days when toilet paper isn't the only gray thing you'd like to wipe your ass with," she heard from Kasia, a classmate who was failing geography. "But no," she thought, "it can't be that bad."

The silence had lasted too long. The girl cautiously made her way through the tunnel. She crept closer to the edge marked by growing bushes.

Two men stood in a small clearing. One wore navy blue jeans and a bright yellow shirt. The other wore a black suit, which made him look overly elegant. The first's face was dull and expressionless, his eyes staring blindly into the distance, and there was something on his face that caught Zuza's attention. A so-called mouse was turning brown near his left ear.

He was holding a kneeling woman's hands high. Zuzia could see that despite her sweaty face, matted with red hair, soiled by the earth, she was a beautiful woman. She had delicate features. Under her large, frequently closed eyes, a small, delicate nose adorned the floor. Unfortunately, that pretty face was in incredible pain. It was contorted in a grimace of pain. She knelt, pale, with dark circles under her eyes from exhaustion.

"I won't wait any longer; I'm ready to escape. Now do it." She suddenly heard a thick, strong, and powerful voice, probably coming from the mouth of the elegant man with his back to her.

Zuska crouched motionless. She wanted to change position, feeling like she'd stepped into an anthill, but she was afraid of attracting attention. She watched. The elegant man nodded at the dim-witted blond with a brown birthmark on his left ear.

The blond man grabbed the woman's hands with his left hand, raised them with his right, and violently struck the back of the victim's bowed head. She offered no resistance. She slid to the ground, released by the killer. She was dead.

Susanna was cold and sweating with terror. She wanted to run. She couldn't. She desperately wanted to make a single move. The slightest. Even to move a toe. But she didn't even look away from the dead woman. She did nothing.

Without warning, the woman, in a quick movement lasting a fraction of a second, raised her head. She stared straight at Susanna. The girl was close enough to see the victim's large irises. She fainted.

…The girl stood in a clearing, surrounded on all sides by a thick wall of trees. Their crowns formed a compact dome above her. There was a hole in the dome. Through the hole, she could see the full moon. Its light dispelled the dense darkness. The moonlight gave the clearing an aura of mystery. It created shadows. It stirred the imagination…

…She began to look around more carefully. The streak of moonlight didn't dissipate completely. A soft beam of light illuminated something resembling a tombstone. "Oh my God, it's a cemetery," she thought, terrified. She felt a grip. A strong, cold grip. A bony hand dug its nails into her forearm. She turned. The hooded figure dug its other hand into her other forearm…

She woke up. She opened her eyes. She looked around her room. She stared ahead at the curtained window. She stared at large, yellow flowers, with a green stem and red center, against a dark blue background. She turned back. The clock above her bed had aligned to six in the morning. With her left hand, she reached for her cell phone, which was always on the nightstand. She picked it up. "Battery full," she said, and checked the calendar to see what day of the week it was. "Monday," she read. And with a groan of resignation, she put it down. Her parents would wake her in half an hour. She got up. She couldn't sleep anymore; she wouldn't sleep. She went into the kitchen. She picked up a large, sharp knife with a green handle. She pulled out a wooden board cracked in the middle. She took out the bread. Slowly and carefully, she cut a perfect slice. She put the knife aside. She put the bread away. She pulled out some breakfast margarine and a piece of ham wrapped in plastic wrap from the refrigerator. She picked up the knife. She dipped it in butter and spread it on the bread. She placed a slice of ham on it. She made tea, pouring boiling water over it. She sat on a stool at the table and began eating. She felt terrible. Her nose was stuffed with a runny nose. Her eyes were watery. Her throat burned mercilessly. "I'm sick," she thought, and turned abruptly as she heard the faint rustle of someone approaching. It was her mother. She was staring at her with a dazed expression.

"You don't have a fever anymore? How are you feeling?" Zuzanna's mother approached her. She raised her hand, touched her daughter's forehead, and smiled. She breathed a sigh of relief.

"Not so good," Zuzia said. "I think I'm sick."

"It's been like this for three days," Stefania saw her daughter's surprised expression and immediately thought. "Don't you remember? You came home on Friday evening with a high fever. I opened the door, and you fainted. I called the doctor. He examined you and said you had a particularly nasty flu. He prescribed you medication. He said if you got out of bed in two weeks, you'd be fine, but you had a fever and only slept through the weekend. Now the fever's gone. You slept through it all. I would have lost track of time too. Go to sleep. You're not going to school today

." On Thursday morning, she woke up healthy and refreshed. She sat up in bed. She rubbed her eyes. She turned and looked at the clock. It was eight in the morning. There was no one left in the house. Both parents had worked until noon. She had no siblings. Her right foot touched the soft green carpet. She wasn't superstitious, but she always paid attention to which foot she put first. She walked through the door into the hallway. The bed was on their left. She stood. She gripped the doorframe with one hand to keep from falling. As usual, she stood up too quickly and felt dizzy. When the door to the next room stopped spinning, she stretched lazily, a smile on her face.

"No one's home," she thought. "I'm not hungry yet, and I'd love to stay in a warm bed." She returned and settled into the cozy bed.

She opened one eye. Then the other. She reached for her cell phone. She'd been asleep for a solid hour. This made her even more lazy. She sat up in bed and leaned against the wall. For the second time that morning—if nine o'clock could be called a morning—she rubbed her sleepy eyes. She looked ahead. She stared in disbelief. She felt as if she were squinting. She could see two trees in front of her, dimly. One outside the window, which had always been there, and the other, very dimly, inside the house. For the third time, she rubbed her eyes. She closed it. She opened it. She wiped it and stared. Now, not only did the tree become more distinct, but bushes and green grass began to appear around it, and in the distance, a forest. She stood up. She walked closer to the opening, which seemed to levitate in mid-air in her own room. The closer she got to the specter, the brighter the room became. She drew closer and closer. A flash of light blinded her.

She looked around. She didn't know where she was. She stood in the middle of a field overgrown with green grass. Here and there, solitary trees and bushes grew. Elsewhere, densely planted trees stretched in the distance, like patches of forest intersected by empty space. She turned and, with great relief, looked ahead. She saw a room. Her room. The bed and the clock above it. She ran forward. A flash.

She woke up on the floor, lying in front of the bed, right under the window. She lifted her head. A sharp pain shot through her skull. She clutched the back of her head and stood up.

"Ouch, ouch, ouch…" she repeated, heading for the bathroom. Suddenly, she remembered the incident from the morning. She turned around sharply and inhaled deeply. The strange passageway was still visible in the same place as at nine o'clock.

"Oh no," she thought, "This is too much, I'm leaving here. I'll go somewhere. I'll wander around town until noon and be back when Mom arrives."

She went to the bathroom. She washed up and combed her ponytail. She put on jeans, a blue T-shirt with the words "I love sleep" written on it, sneakers, and a warm, thick fleece. She wanted to grab her cell phone, but she'd have to go into that room she didn't even want to think about. She

slowly opened the door and went in. With her eyes closed, she tried to climb over the bed. "Don't be silly," she thought. "Don't make a fool of yourself." She opened her eyes and, without looking at the window, grabbed her cell phone. With a quick movement, she jumped off the bed and grabbed the doorknob. She wanted to leave as quickly as possible. She stopped. "Don't be stupid," she told herself. She closed her eyes, turned slowly, and opened them. After what she saw, she sat down on the bed, resigned. "What's the matter? What's all this about?" She looked toward the window. Outside the window grew the tree that had always been there, and in front of the window in her room, there was nothing unusual. There was no other tree—and it had never been there," Zuzia finished her thought.

The next day, the girl got up at ten. She got out of bed and cautiously glanced at the window. She ate breakfast.

Agnieszka was supposed to visit her today. She washed, put on fresh pajamas, and put on a blue bathrobe with sheep lying on clouds. Someone knocked on the door. She turned and went to the hall, opened it, and greeted her friend.

"Hi, Aguś, how are you?"

"Girl, you haven't spoken to me all week. I thought you were in a bad way, and you're just relaxing at home and skipping the last few days of school. Shame on you. Oh, and don't call me Aguś.

" "Oh, Aguś, believe me, you wouldn't want to be in my shoes.

" "Let's just say I'll take your word for it. Please don't call me Aguś! "

"I like it when you get angry." "

I noticed. Aren't you going to invite me?

" "No. "

"Excuse me?

" "Come on in." "

I brought you a few notebooks," Agnieszka said, and on the way to her room, she started pulling them out. Zuska wanted to tell her she could treat her to that little bit of the visit later, but knowing her friend, she wouldn't let it go. She'd be on tenterhooks. She wasn't a nerd, but she liked to take care of all the important matters right at the beginning of her visits. "Here's your math," she handed her a red, squared notebook. "Everything's written and explained there. You'll find the rules in the book, and if you don't understand something, just ask. I'll be happy to help." "I know

," Zuska said quietly, so as not to interrupt her friend's monologue

. "Excuse me?"

"Nothing, don't go on, it's interesting."

"Don't be silly."

"Oh, don't get upset, I just don't want to hear about the homework I have to do. But I'll patiently absorb every word you say. Just hurry." Agnieszka muttered something under her breath and continued. "

There hasn't been a Polish lesson and won't be for another week. Wrona's sick. Here's biology." She pulled out a green notebook with a large globe in the middle, followed by a thin blue notebook with yellow ducklings. "And here's the rough draft. I copied all the subjects we have for one hour each. Chemistry, Geography, Physics, and Art, which we actually have two hours each, but we didn't write much yesterday, so I copied them too.

" "Oh, you have nothing to do, don't you?" Zuza said, but she met Aga's gaze and immediately added, "But thank you, you're really sweet. It would have been enough if you'd brought me those notebooks; I could have copied them myself."

"Don't talk, just listen." Here you have English and German. Well, I guess that's all. Oh, and history too. Well, that's definitely all.

"Oh, thank you, I'll have something to do. It's so good to have someone like you. Can I make you some lemon tea?"

"Don't suck up.

" "You know..." Zuza feigned offense . "

I know, you're sucking up, but I'd love some tea. And then I'll tell you something.

" "But nothing about school?" Zośka asked anxiously.

"Come on, go.

" "Don't chase me out of my room," Zuska said and went to the kitchen.

When they were both comfortably seated on the large, soft cushions in front of them, tea in hand, Agnieszka asked,

"Have you heard about that guy who disappeared?"

"No. What guy, I haven't heard anything about." She was surprised, and Agnieszka began to explain with excitement.

"Well, listen. My mom's friend's husband disappeared on Friday morning. What was his name?" Wait a minute, I'll remember something about a storm... Oh, I know! Thunder! Artur and Joanna Grzmot. Saturday morning, Joanna called my mom and, in tears, told me that Artur hadn't come home. You know, she thought he was cheating on her or something. When he didn't come back on Saturday either, she called the police. I don't know the details, but apparently they found a witness, probably a retired high school professor, who said he saw a man walking along the Hare Trail and then, as if searching for something, went into the bushes. The professor stayed there for a long time, almost until evening, and didn't see anyone come out.

"What does this Grzmot look like?" my friend asked out of curiosity. "

There was a picture of him in the "Pod Jamą" newspaper; I don't have it here, but I can tell you. I think he was blond, yes, definitely, and had brown eyes." I don't know what his height and build were, but the newspaper described everything and he had one special mark, here - she pointed to the spot next to her left ear - he had this brown, quite visible mark and...

After the word "birthmark," Zuza tuned out, stopped listening to her friend. That face, that birthmark, she knew something, remembered something. Either she dreamed of someone like that, or… "I have to remember that evening, Friday evening, what happened then? I don't remember anything." At that moment, Zośka was terrified beyond belief. Previously, she hadn't noticed that she couldn't remember the entire Friday, but now, when she recalled Friday morning and couldn't recall what had happened after she'd passed through the school gate, or if she'd even passed through at all, she felt very ill.

"I don't remember, I don't remember…" she repeated in her mind. Suddenly, Agnieszka snapped her out of her trance.

"What don't you remember? Zośka, what's wrong with you?

" "Nothing, did I say that out loud?"

"Yes, you rocked back and forth for about two minutes, repeating 'I don't remember,' so you must be forgetting something. Oh my goodness! I couldn't bring you back to normal." I wanted to call your mom, but I remembered I didn't have her number, so I decided to call mine, but before that, I wanted to try waking you up again and… I succeeded. You don't seem to be feeling well yet, go to bed." Zuzanna got up from her pillows, feeling dizzy, and suddenly remembered the ring. She raised her hand and noticed she didn't have it. "

I remember," she said, staring at her finger without the precious jewelry. "I remember now." And indeed, she remembered everything. She already knew where Artur Grzmot had been on Friday afternoon.

After three hours of the visit, Agnieszka said she would stay until Zuska's mom returned, but she was exhausted and wanted to go to sleep, so she talked her friend out of it, and Aga went home. The girl didn't share what she remembered from Friday with her friend, because she would probably say she was delirious and call 911. She only told her that she was talking about a ring she'd forgotten at school and didn't know where she'd left it, but now she remembered.

Zuza got out of bed and decided to go to the forest. She dressed in the same clothes she'd worn when she'd wanted to wait in town for her mother to return. She glanced out the corner of her eye toward the window and suddenly felt herself losing consciousness, her arms and legs going limp, and she was fainting.

She woke up in the same clearing as when she'd passed through the strange passage in her room. She turned around. The passage had disappeared. Someone was calling her. A voice came from behind her. She turned. The voice belonged to a woman. She was dressed in a flowing green dress that blended in with her surroundings. Only her ragged, raven-black hair distinguished her. She spoke in a warm, gentle voice.

"Come to me. I'll help you. My name is Annazuz Sol."

The girl stood up. She was walking. She was enchanted. Annazuz offered her her hand. Zuza grabbed her.

"Leave it." She heard

"What should I leave?" she thought, turning to see who was speaking. Against the backdrop of a large oak tree stood a man of medium height with long black hair and a medium-length beard.

"Too late!" She heard Annazuz's screeching voice, so incongruous with her pleasant face. Zuska turned. She screamed silently, in terror. Before her stood a deathly pale apparition, encased in ragged black matter, rotting. Its deep black eye sockets stared with hatred into the distance beyond. The girl looked at the hand holding hers in a tight grip. She screamed and began to struggle. It was held by bones. Not a hand, but bones wrapped in remnants of skin. She turned. The wind tugged violently at the bearded man's jacket. He looked menacing. Perhaps not so much menacing as determined. It seemed he would bow to nothing, but perhaps there was something akin to menace in him.

The apparition was laughing. A shrill, shrieking laugh pierced her ears. The girl struggled. Annazuz dug her sharp claws into her hand. The apparition gripped them tighter and tighter. A whispering, yet powerful voice reached Zuzanna's ears, barely breaking through Annazuz's screams. Yet only she could hear it in her own head.

"Turn around. Look into my eyes. Trust me." She turned. She looked at the newcomer. He was far away, but somehow she could see his eyes. Brown eyes. A gentle, friendly, yet powerful gaze. It was calming.

The wind swirled around them. The apparition's screams could be heard. More terrifying than before. She dug her nails into the girl's hand until it went numb. She no longer felt the pain. Suddenly, she collapsed. With a piercing scream, the apparition fled, having released Zuzanna. Everything fell silent.

"What happened?" she asked in a barely audible whisper.

"Be calm, everything's alright," the newcomer replied in a soothing voice. He was now kneeling over her. Zuzanna calmed down and breathed a sigh of relief, but in an instant, his face began to stretch. The skin began to rot and fall off at an accelerated pace. His skull began to become visible. It wasn't the white, sterile skull Zuzanna knew from biology class, but a black, rotten one, as if it had lain for a long time, enveloped in swamp slime. It looked as if a corpse had donned human flesh and was now shedding it. The man's voice also changed.

"Appearances can be deceiving!" He screeched in a mocking, ghostly voice.

Zuzanna opened her eyes. She was sweating and terrified. The first thing she saw was the man's face. She began to scream and thrash on the blanket.

"No, don't do that," he asked in a calm and firm tone that was strangely unlike the other's. It was genuine and sincere, and the man's gaze showed understanding and concern. "I don't know what you were dreaming about, but you're safe here." Zuzia stared into the depths of his brown eyes. "Look." He showed the girl her right hand. "It's bandaged, you'll be fine." She looked at her hand. She calmed down and fell asleep.

The girl was awakened by a small bird perching on her cheek. Susanna jumped up, unsure what had chosen to rest on her face and startled the little creature, which quickly flew away. She looked around; she was sleeping under a large oak tree on a bed of branches and covered with a hide. In front of the oak tree were ashes from the fire, half-burned logs, and thin branches, piled in a mound. It was early, a light mist hung over the grass and settled on it as dewdrops. She got up, and on the other side of the fire lay the man who had saved her from Annazuz the day before, or two before. The morning was chilly, so she decided to postpone her reconnaissance walk until later. She sat down on the branches, and the dew slowly covered her. She thought about many things: where she was, what she was doing there, and whether it had anything to do with Friday. She raised her hand and began examining the wounds bandaged with linen cloth. She was afraid, wanting to return to her home in the Pit. She felt very cold. She approached the fire and decided it must have been burning recently, as the wood was still embers and attracted her with its warmth. She got up and found a pile of branches covered with the same skin she had been lying on. She pulled out a few branches and added them to the fire. She blew a few times, intending to light it, but only raised ash, which choked her. She put her hand in the pocket of her fleece and found a geography cheat sheet.

"At least it'll be useful for something," she thought, and placed the paper on the embers, along with two thin twigs. She blew lightly and lit them. She quickly added larger branches, but before they caught fire, the kindling had completely extinguished itself.

"Good morning, a beautiful morning, isn't it?" She suddenly heard a voice above her, startled, quickly raised her head, and calmed down.

"Good morning, you can sneak around very quietly."

"I'm sorry if I scared you. My name is Dymitr Silva, could I help you?"

"So, would you help me light this fire? My name is Zuzanna Los, Zuska." Dymitr walked over to the fire, arranged a pile of wood, took two deep breaths, blew, and the wood ignited with merry crackling sparks.

"Zuzanna, yes?" he asked, and she nodded and crouched down by the fire. "Call me by my name, I don't like being called 'sir'." Zuza nodded and sat down on her bed. Dymitr left and returned a moment later with a rabbit he'd caught. He sat down, gutted and skinned it, cut it up, and stuck pieces of meat on sticks.

"Are you hungry?" he asked, then handed her a stick and told her to roast the meat, which she eagerly agreed to. When they had eaten breakfast, quite early, as the girl noticed, Dimitri got up, put out the fire burying them, took a large bag and said they were going to his house.

"How far?" she asked, and in response she heard a polite but firm urging.

"If we don't set off now, we won't even get there in three days," he said teasingly, smiling broadly at Zośka's terrified expression. "Smile when you're tired, we'll stop, and I have another rabbit." He added, pointing to the dead creature tied to her backpack.

To Zośka's dismay, the journey was as tiring as she'd expected; she realized that if she continued at this pace, Dymitr would have to strap her to his backpack halfway, just like a rabbit. After a short period of forced walking, she decided to sit on a nearby rock hidden among the tall grass. She was sick of sneezing the entire journey (she's allergic), the heat that had taken over her untrained body (even though it was cold), and the nausea brought on by exhaustion. She lay down, closed her eyes, and lay there. She heard Dymitr bustling around her and soon building a fire. Then she fell asleep.

When she woke up, she smelled the sharp but pleasant aroma of brewed herbs. She stood up, and Dimitri greeted her with a broad smile and handed her a clay mug of some kind of drink. After a brief hesitation, she drank it all and felt much better and stronger.

After an infusion of unfamiliar herbs, she managed to endure a longer journey, but still at a slower pace. After the first stop, they stopped three more times. They always stopped after a four-hour march. When they stopped, they roasted a rabbit for the second time.

They arrived long after sunset; she was glad they had walked a day and not three, as Dimitri had threatened. They stopped under a large oak tree. It was very similar to the one Annuz had attacked her in front of, but much wider and probably older. In the center, it had a large hole, and in it, a rotten green door, shaped like a leaf with intricately carved veins. The door was perfectly aligned with the shape of the hole. Zuza only saw it when Dimitri lit two torches on either side. They entered Dimitri's house. First they found themselves in the Oak Tree, then they entered another door into a short hallway that stretched at least ten feet to the right and ten feet to the left. Zuza couldn't see any details because she was so tired, and Dimitri hadn't lit any lights—candles, lamps, torches, or anything else. He simply led her to a room and told her she could lie down in a small but comfortable bed and sleep. She thanked him and immediately fell asleep.

In the morning, the girl woke up and opened her eyes. She immediately sat up and sadly realized that everything from the previous day was true and that she wasn't in her home. She had slept in her clothes—"I'll be drenched in sweat," she thought. "What am I going to wear now? I have nothing else."

She looked around. She was sleeping in a wooden bed with soft, feather-filled bedding. To her right was a wall with a large window. She immediately looked out and saw a wonderful garden with an abundance of flowers and a pond in the center. She was delighted; the sight immediately lifted her spirits. She rose to the wooden floor, crossed the room, and exited into the hallway through a door the same shape as the one she had used to enter the oak tree. She didn't know which way to go; the hallway was long in both directions, ending in either room or another hallway. As she looked curiously at the hallway to her right, she heard behind her,

"Oh, I see you're up." The girl's heart leaped, catching her breath, but she immediately remembered the voice. She turned, intending to greet Dimitri warmly, but stopped, speechless, not recognizing the man standing before her.

"It's Dimitri, you don't recognize me." Oh, I'm sorry, you're right, I shaved my beard," he said, grinning pleasantly, and Zuza finally managed to utter a few words.

"Beard and hair," she added, "Good morning, nice day." And she began to analyze Dymitri's changed appearance. A man, a head and a half taller, stood before her, with dark brown eyes, completely shaved hair, and no beard. He looked ridiculous, considering Zuska was used to seeing his entire face covered in hair, with only two dark brown eyes visible. It was actually thanks to them that she was sure of Dymitri's authenticity. Besides, that wasn't the only thing that had changed about him; he seemed thinner, but it was probably due to taking off the thick clothes he was probably hiding something under. "

Yes, handsome, after breakfast we'll go to the garden; we could use a moment of rest. Now come on, wash up and put on something else."

Dimitri led her to the next room, which was very similar to the one she'd slept in, but without a bed; instead, there was a large metal bowl of steaming water. Next to her potential sink was a chair with some cloth hanging on it.

"Wash yourself." Dimitri pointed to the chair. "There's something to dry yourself off and put on. You can wash your clothes; that jug next to the chair has something that will replace soap." He smiled and left.

The girl went to the bowl and, stripping off everything, washed herself. The jug Dimitri pointed to contained something similar to liquid soap, only thinner and with the scent of freshly crushed young twigs. She washed her clothes and put on what Dimitri had given her. She put on a loose, sleeveless blouse and a long skirt, under which she wore large knickers instead of panties. She tied them with a string. Over this, she wore a long-sleeved blouse with strings instead of buttons. It was all linen, and it fit almost like a glove.

She grabbed her wet clothes and went out into the hallway. This time she turned left, back where Dimitri had come from. After a while, she reached the kitchen, which looked like a country cottage from half a century ago, or even a century ago. It was full of herbs and a large wooden table by the window, with large slices of bread, sausage, and butter on it. Dimitri invited her to eat and told her she could leave her clothes and then hang them in the garden.

At breakfast, she asked,

"Dymitri?

" "Excuse me? "

"Tell me what really happened yesterday?

" "What do you want to know, specifically?"

"What was it? That thing that attacked me?" Dimitri thought for a moment. He didn't know how much he could tell her, but finally decided he would answer everything she asked.

"Did it introduce itself to you?"

"Yes, she said her name was..." She thought for a moment. "Annzuz Sol, I guess so."

"Then I'll tell you it was, eh..." he sighed. "None other than your death." When Dimitri realized what he'd said, he thought to himself that he needed to work on his straightforwardness and that in some cases, the ability to beat around the bush would be useful. But he said what he said, and a long, awkward silence followed. Zuza sat staring at Dimitri with wide eyes. She didn't know whether to take his words seriously, laugh, or cry, or perhaps it was better to do nothing. Finally, she asked.

"I don't understand? Is she dead? But you saved me from her, why did she attack me?" Now Zuza began to bombard her savior with a thousand questions. "Where did I come from anyway? Why and how? Where am I? What am I doing here?" She stood up abruptly and walked over to the barely smoldering fireplace. She sat there for a moment, then turned and finished, "Dymitri, please tell me what this is all about.

" "Okay, but come here, this is going to be a long story." She walked over and sat down, still staring at Dimitri, and he continued. "I'll start by explaining who, or what, Annzuz is. Notice her name, Annzuz Sol. Repeat it to yourself," he said, and she repeated the enigmatic name aloud. "Now, slowly read it backwards." He asked, and the girl knew. She spoke her name with confusion. Dimitri sighed. "Yes, you're right, backwards, it's your name, Zuzanna Los. Do you know why she attacked you? Because you crossed over into another dimension, from your world, to mine. She simply thought you were dead." He tried to explain it as simply as possible, but he didn't know how it came out.

"But, death has no form. What do you mean, death looks like a corpse?"

"No, that was your idea of ​​it. You considered death to be something insidious, something that first tempts you with the beauty of liberation from life, and only then reveals its true face. Its evil face." Dimitri wanted to say something else, but Zuza interrupted.

"This is my idea, right?" she asked, a little enthusiastically. "So why did you see it too and even manage to chase it away? And..." She thought for a moment and raised her hand. How could she forget? "If this death is my idea, then what? Did I imagine this too?" she said, pointing to her hand.

"Well," he sighed. "Yes, that too. The power of the mind is so great that when you believed Annazuz was really hurting your hand, it was. I saw her too, because I see such things, because sometimes I am allowed to look into the souls of some people. Just like yours. In fact, these people allow me to do so. They even beg for help." They only give me access to the part that needs healing. No one else but the person in question can grant me access to their thoughts.

"So I allowed you to save me? Can you tell me how you did it?

" "Yes, I can. When you looked into my eyes, I made you realize you were alive. Because in reality, you yourself thought you were dying and caused your own self-destruction by materializing your death. I was just in the right place at the right time. That's all. Please, eat your breakfast now. If you want to ask me anything else, wait until we go to the garden. I have a lot of things to do there. I haven't been here for a while," he said, rising from the table. He walked over to the stone stove and took down the jug. He took a cup and poured Zuza something to drink.

"This is a drink we usually drink in this world; your tea is so popular here."

"How do you know we drink tea in my world?" "Dymitr got a little confused and said he had to go out to the garden, and he was gone.

Zuza sat there stunned for a moment, then took a sip of the hot herbal infusion. They had a slightly sweet taste, and that was all she could name. She couldn't identify the rest of the flavor of the drink. But the bread, sausage, and butter were delicious, and infinitely better than the ones she always bought at the store and ate at home. After breakfast, she wanted to wash her mug and wipe the table, because she hadn't eaten on her plate and had made a lot of mess, but she didn't know what to wipe it with. After a moment's thought, she decided to go out to the garden and headed toward the door through which Dimitr had disappeared.

Outside, she took a deep breath and approached Dimitri, who was kneeling by the flower beds. As she walked toward him, she admired the somewhat weedy but still beautiful garden. The grass was as lushly green as ever in her world. It hadn't been mowed, so many common flowers grew among the blades. Some she recognized, like forget-me-nots, but others she didn't recognize at all. Not because she wasn't a good botanist, but simply because they weren't in her world. Vegetables unfamiliar to her grew in the flower beds, but there were also dill and parsley, even chives. She had a feeling she recognized a carrot.

The garden wasn't large, with large bushes growing at its edge, probably meant to be a hedge. Beneath them, gradually growing from the largest to the largest, grew various garden flowers. There was also one corner, full of herbs she hadn't seen before. And in the center was a beautiful pond with aquatic plants and animals, complete with a small fountain. She even thought she saw a green frog, which immediately fled.

When she approached Dimitri, she asked if she could help. He stood up, dusted off his hands, and said pleasantly that yes, he could help, but she needed to change. He said there would be some clothes on the bed in her room. Zuza walked down the hall and put on gray overalls, which she rolled up because she thought she'd be too hot. She only took off her skirt and rolled up the long sleeves. She reached into her fleece and pulled out a hair tie, tied it in her ponytail, but then thought she might need a comb. She went to the room where she was washing and, without looking for it, grabbed a wooden comb from the chair.

"I wish I hadn't noticed it before," she muttered, and combed her hair, wincing in pain as she watched her hair being pulled out. She also wondered when Dimitri had placed the overalls on her bed.

She went into the kitchen and glanced at the table. Surprisingly, it was tidy, there was nothing on it, not a crumb of bread. She was surprised when Dimitri cleaned it up.

After an hour, she understood what rest meant to Silva. It was hard work in the garden. They didn't speak for a long time, as they were both working in completely different parts of the garden. Finally, the girl couldn't stand it anymore. She thought about their morning conversation for a long time and had to ask Dimitri one more thing. She got up and walked over to him. She stood and asked.

"Dimitri, tell me how I moved here. And why?" He turned and answered as if he had been preparing for this for some time, as if the knowledge bothered him, and suddenly blurted out.

"You went through the so-called Miles Hole. It was discovered many centuries ago by Cyril Miles. He didn't actually discover it, he just read about it in an ancient book he was working on deciphering." He played with his digger as he spoke, digging into the earth. "When he realized what he was dealing with, he undertook to investigate the nature of this phenomenon. He founded a sort of order where, like monks or nuns from your world, they studied this phenomenon in silence and concentration." He set the digger aside and looked at Zuska. "These are the Miliads, who for all these years have predicted that something like this would happen more or less regularly. We ordinary people don't know this, but certain information has escaped the walls of their castle. Well, it is known that it was supposed to open several times around this time, in several places around the world. I also know why it forms." He paused and after a moment began speaking again. "Normally, there is a significant time difference between our two worlds. It evens out from time to time." It lasts for a few days, then the time and hour are synchronized, down to the second, and the windows or Miles' holes open." He finished and added, "And you went through one like that."

Late in the afternoon, Zuza went out into the garden with a hot drink. She sat on a bench in front of the house and stared at the splashing water of the fountain.

She thought about what had happened to her, had to calmly analyze what Dimitri had told her. Suddenly, she remembered her laundry, placed the mug on the bench. She quickly stood, walked to the door, and immediately jumped back. A short woman, rather plump for her height, stood in the doorway. She had her hair in a bun and was wearing a brown dress tied with an apron.

"I'm so sorry. I haven't seen you here before. My name is Zuzanna Los."

"It's very nice," the stranger said, smiling, and two small dimples appeared on her cheeks. "My name is Emilia Silwa, I'm Dymitr's wife. I'm glad you can finally see me." Zuza was surprised when Emilia said this and, confused, replied.

"Yes, I'm glad you can see me too." Suddenly, Emila started laughing.

"I saw you a long time ago, but you couldn't see me. Because, you know..." She paused and wondered if she could talk to a newly arrived person from another world about such strange and improbable things. Finally, she decided she should explain it somehow, since she was going to stay here for a long time. "Every once in a while, for a few days, I fall into lethargy, my body seems to be dying. But I'm alive and I can move around and do what I usually do, just in a different form. Then no one can see me. Except Dymitr, of course." "

So you were the one who cleared the table after breakfast, right?" I'm so sorry I made a mess, but I wanted to clean it up, but I didn't know how. And I'm so sorry, but I still have to hang up my clothes, I washed them and completely forgot about them," she said, but Emila stopped her.

"Don't worry, I've already hung them, they're behind that tree." She pointed to the apple tree on the right. "Could you call me by my name? That would be great."

"Yes, of course, thank you. Interesting, I haven't seen that apple tree before, I really like apples," she said, then fell silent as she remembered the apple pie her grandmother always baked.

In the evening, Zuska went to the room where she had last slept. Already washed, she sat on the bed for a while. Finally, she got up and went to the kitchen, where Dymitr was adding wood to the fireplace. She stood in the doorway and asked him to listen to her, as she had a very big favor to ask of him. When she was sure he was listening, she began to speak. "

I've been here less than two days. You and Emilia have been a great help to me, for which I sincerely thank you." But I want you to help me with one more thing. She paused briefly, but she was sure, so she continued; she already knew what she would say. "I have to try to find my home, my place, which is somewhere out there, in my world, in my city, not here, where I am an intruder. The passage through which I will get there is somewhere here, in this world, and I will find it only with your help. You know more than you are telling me, I don't know what, but you know something, and you can help me, and I need this help very much." She continued to look at him, hoping he would turn around. "Please help me."

He turned. He looked for a long time, waiting for something he would never get, and said.

"I'll help, but know that I don't know if I'll lead you to your home." He stood up and sat down at the table, gesturing for Zuza to join him. "I've thought about it before, unfortunately, I don't know how to find the second passage. But there is a way for you to find out. You have to want to get into the order of the Miliads." The girl listened with interest and desperation. At that moment, she was ready for anything. "Unfortunately, it will take a very long time, too long. First, you'll have to visit seven towers one after another. Everyone knows where the first one is; to get to it, you have to pass a test. Unfortunately, I don't know what it is. Then, when you're accepted, you'll go through the portal that leads to the second one, and that's all I can tell you; you'll learn the rest there. But before they let you through all those towers, the time for the passages to open will have passed, and you'll only be able to wait until they open again." It could take even a thousand years or more. Zuza, resigned, wanted to leave; she'd heard enough. But there's one more possibility. The girl looked at Dimitri. "We'll find Vertia, the Guardian of Time, and go to other worlds. She's the last of her..." He paused and considered how to phrase his thoughts, and after a moment he finished. "Of her kind. No one knows why they died out if they were so powerful." He fell into thought. "We must first find someone who can contact Vertia and summon her to us, because she could be in any world, and we don't know where." He snapped out of his reverie and looked at Zuza. "Go get some sleep, we have a long journey ahead of us," he said.

Zuza stood up .

"Thank you, thank you very much," she said, and left.