The daitias and Anya were sitting around the fireplace, eating the carrot pie, and studying the map. Everyone was obsessed with their new discovery. Everyone but Anya. She couldn't put her father's phone call out of her mind. She had to lie to him, and she felt terrible about it.

"Why are we wasting our time?" Daphne kept talking next to Anya, holding the silvery paper. "It is obviously a plan of some crippled city. If we compare the chart with the satellite map, we'll easily get the location we need."

Not that Anya had never lied to her dad before—she had, but about the innocent things like eating too much sweets or spending the night at the friend's house instead of going to the concert. Who hadn't done that, right? But about leaving on a journey with aliens? Never.

"Have you ever seen such a city, Daph?" Nikk was shaking his head in firm negation, not for the first time. "Even if there was one, it's been wiped off the face of the earth thousands of years ago."

And, the part of her lying Anya felt the worst about was that she actually loved this lie. She loved the sense of being involved in some significant business of the daitias, the sense of possessing the power to win some invisible war with the fomoires, to make something right...

"Looks like a location in a video game to me," Eirney snickered and took a picture of the chart with his tablet.

The conversation buzzing in Anya's ears wouldn't let her think of her problematic lie, but she couldn't help listening also.

"Why do think this paper is something important at all?" she asked, looking at the exited faces of the daitias.

"Do you see these?" Amarillis pointed at one of the patterns curling alone the edge of the document.

Anya shrugged, "Pretty tracery."

"It's not a tracery, it's a language. Our language." Rill narrowed her eyes thoughtfully. "The one that the people of Da'Ariya used to speak many years ago. Today you can only find it in ancient scrolls of legends. The fact that the paper written in our language appears to be on Earth raises lots of questions."

"That's what you've been looking for?"

"No, it shows the way to what we've been looking for," Nikk said. He looked at his friends and continued as he saw no objections in their faces. "On Earth, there is a book called Niyati... The Book of Fates. That's what we need to win the war."

Anya shifted her incredulous eyes to Nikk. "A book can help you win the war?"

Daphne nodded. "There is a chance."

Suddenly, something metallic hit the floor behind their backs. The daitias tensed and turned their heads in alarm. On the edge of her vision, Anya saw as Daphne's hand slipped into her purse, but before she brought whatever there was out, her eyes found the source of the noise, and she relaxed.

It was an empty coffee jar that rolled off the kitchen table, clattered across the uneven floor and knocked against the threshold. The wind was the one to blame probably. It was howling furiously through the cracks of the window frames. Anya shivered and pulled the woolen blanket tighter around her.

"We won't figure it out on our own," Eirney stood up, brushing the pie crumbs off his knees. "We need to ask someone in Kelas."

"I'll go with you," Rill volunteered and instantly leaped to her feet. "You'll talk too much if you go alone."

Daphne's thin eyebrows shot up in protest. "And what are we supposed to do while you're away?"

"Wait here, we'll be back by the sunrise," Rill said.

The next second she and Eirney were gone.

"You forgot—" Anya trailed off as she realized Eirn's checked shirt vanished into thin air. "The map."

"Eirney took the picture of it," Nikk reminded.

There was a silence for a brief moment. Then Daphne sighed deliberately and rose to her feet.

"You can do whatever you want, but I'm going to kill time the best way I know," she said, making her way to one of two bedrooms. "Sleeping. Wake me up when this is all over."

Nikk watched Daphne leave without any spark of interest. As the door slammed shut behind her, he walked over to the bookshelf where since recently one of Amarillis's flower pots was standing. He didn't look like going to sleep.

Silence grew thick for one more minute. The fire was still crackling in the fireplace, and the wind wailing over the lake outside. Nothing else seemed to be alive.

"I think I'll catch some sleep too," Anya's voice curled up at the end, making it sound more like a question. She hoped Nikk would say something to stop her. She hoped he had more to say after Anya had run off from his apartment. Apparently, she was wrong.

"Good night," Nikk nodded without turning his head to look at her.

And Anya left. She stepped out of the room illuminated with the flames of the tamed fire, into the second bedroom that was still free.

The room was small, no luxuries. Two narrow beds, one drawer and a lamp. Anya threw off her sneakers, crawled under the blanket and glanced behind the curtain, out of the window. Not a single soul in the street.

Just the night world full of shadows.

Tossing and stirring and turning from side to side in the bed for almost an hour, Anya couldn't close her eyes for more than three minutes in a row, couldn't stop thinking.

How could I agree to this? she pondered. The daitias can teleport, grow flowers in no time, call the fire... What kinds of other unbelievable tricks they have up their sleeves?

Nonetheless, Anya eventually had to admit—her journey was everything but boring so far. If Alexander's daughter wasn't destined to write history books as her father wanted, well, maybe she'd write a fantasy one?

Suddenly, she heard approaching footsteps. She closed her eyes and lay still, pretended to be deeply sleeping.

"I know you're awake," Nikk's amused voice came from the doorway. "Do you mind me reading here? Rill's idea with the flowers is great, for certain, but five of them? That's too much. It smells like somebody spilled a bucket of perfume in the room."

Anya failed to suppress a smile. "Sure, you can read here," she opened her eyes.

"Thanks."

Nikk stretched on the opposite bed, tucked a pillow under his head and started to flip through the pages of the book he'd brought with him.

Curiously, Anya glanced at the shabby cover, but the letters of the title were so rubbed off. She could only see: '...mort... In...'.

The next half an hour was spent in silence. It wasn't an awkward kind of silence, mind you. Anya found this silence rather of a meditative sort. She could tell Nikk wasn't entirely preoccupied with his reading, though his eyes moved along the lines and he flipped the pages regularly. Yet, he was thinking. And so was Anya.

Her thoughts traveled back to their dream, to Nikk's visit to her bookshop, to their first real conversation in the theatre. For some reason, all those events now, in the middle of the night, seemed normal to Anya. Meant to be.

She looked at Nikk's slightly mussed auburn hair, his knowing face, and thought about her feelings in that their dream.

It's him. But who is he?

She felt like she knew him, but her mind refused to remember, kept brushing the edge of her memory concealing him. Did he feel that way as well?

She felt like they'd shared something more than just a dream once, in the long forgotten past. But it was stupid, right? Besides, she clearly was an ignorant earthling in his eyes. And he had Daphne.

What are you doing here, Nikk? Anya wanted to ask. On my planet, in my world, in my life. In my room? Why are you lying on this bed, watching me from the corner of your eye? Why don't you go to Daphne instead and...

Anya swiftly subdued the thought, before her imagination led her too far.

"How can a simple book help you win the war?" She finally brought herself to ask something what seemed to be an innocent question.

Nikk put his book away, thought for a moment and looked at Anya, his eyes distant. "Our people have a legend," he began slowly. "According to it, when the universe was created, there was also created a key to understanding universal laws. Kind of a source code.

"The person who possesses this code knows everything. What occurred in the past, what will occur in the future, or what is occurring right now in the parallel world. Everything. Thus, the person can change everything. The Book of Fates it the key."

He made a chucklesome noise. "To tell the truth, nobody really knows whether it's a book literally. Who can say how many times the legends were rewritten through the centuries, right? But if it is true, then with that book we can gain an ultimate knowledge of our enemy."

"But still, it's just a legend, isn't it? What if this book doesn't exist at all?"

"Legends are never built out of nothing," his voice wavered with irritation. "Every idea has roots. We've have been at war for over fifty years. If we have a slightest chance to win, we can't miss it. You don't know what it's like to wake up at the sound of a bomb exploding in the sky..."

Anya saw Nikk's expression darken at the thought. But there was more than just bombs as she remembered. "Eirn said Leir's father had killed one of your friends."

"That's right. But that was long before we came here," Nikk made a wide gesture, indicating that here meant the whole planet. "That battle was dreadful. Probably, the worst day of my life."

"Have you ever..?"

"Killed anyone?"

"Yes."

"Yes." Nikk's face turned sullen, saturnine. "But we daitias are not like fomoires, we never harm the innocent or kill the defenseless."

Anya said nothing. Now she regretted she'd started this conversation. Counting people you had once killed definitely wasn't the topic you want to explore before taking a nap.

"Everything's not that bad," she uttered at last, trying to sound cheerful. "This means you're the best bodyguard I could find, Nikk."

He looked at her with sad smile and suddenly said, "Can I ask you a question?"

Anya found herself being stupefied as she met his unreadable gaze, but nodded.

"Do you remember what you'd been dreaming about before we first met?"

"I dream about a lot of things," she evasively said, though she knew exactly what Nikk wanted to hear. "But there isn't always a meaning in our night visions."

"So you're saying," Nikk narrowed his eyes as if in conspiracy, the corners of his lips turned upward, "you've dreamed of nothing particular?"

Anya looked away, unable to stare into his eyes any longer. She usually tried to avoid people who had the habit of peering into the eyes of the others. It felt like they were staring into your bare soul, prying into your secrets, and you had nowhere to hide.

And Nikk did that quite often.

"I don't know. I saw a sea, a forest..." Anya muttered, studying the patterns of the blanket covering her knees.

"You saw me, true?" Nikk said without bothering giving hints.

Following some strange unexplainable impulse, Anya shifted her eyes back at Nikk. "Maybe."

"It was me," he assured her, his eyes dancing around the edges. "Because it was you."

"How could we see the same dream?" Anya asked stupidly. "Isn't it impossible?"

"It wasn't simply a dream. You see," Nikk sucked on his lip for a second, "a human consciousness turns off when they're asleep, and the daitias can control the astral plan. Let's say, I can recreate the whole world in my mind and you'll never see the difference between my imagination and your reality."

He fell quiet, waiting for Anya's reaction. She heard a dog barking somewhere among the houses outside, but as for the rest, the stillness of the night was as strong as ever.

"You're saying," Anya flicked her eyes to the wall where the other bedroom was, "Daphne may be walking the Paris streets this very moment?"

"May be," Nikk chuckled. "Though Daph's not fond of France actually."

"How old is she?"

"France?"

"Daphne."

"Oh." Indignation flashed in Nikk's eyes for a fraction of second, but then it was quickly replaced with a jocular spark, so Anya thought she'd just made it up. "Daphne is older than you think, but younger than you might imagine."

"How old are you then?"

"Younger than you think," Nikk shrugged, amused. "But older than you might imagine."

It wasn't the answer Anya had hoped to hear. Why did Nikk treat her like a stupid child with all this riddles and evasions? A sting of exasperation swelled on her chest.

And Nikk, conceivably, saw Anya's wry face.

"Sorry, I sincerely want to tell you great many things right here right now," he said softly, his eyes catching her own. "There's only thought stopping me. And it's a profound one."

"I can only imagine," Anya echoed sarcastically and looked away.

"I'm serious. If I tell you everything about my life now, you'll never believe me." He let out a long, weary sigh. "I don't want to freak you out. Not again."

"Tell me something at least. Because till now I feel like a blind kitten in this world of yours."

Nikk looked at her in hesitation. "My world isn't as bright and magical as you hope."

Anya shrugged nonchalantly, still staring at the celling.

"Okay," he sat upright in his bed. "Let's start from the beginning then. The way the daitias have dreams."

Facing Nikk, Anya shifted into a sitting position.

"It's actually simple," he went on. "We learn to control our mind. No magic involved. Your brain is a muscle." He tapped his right temple. "If you can control every idea, every shadow of a thought at the back of your subconsciousness, you can control your mind. And your dreams. Creating a place in your sleep is easy, but sharing your dream with someone else is not. That's why you startled me in that dream of ours."

"I don't understand," Anya frowned, "You thought I was a ghost?"

"If we simplify things, then yes."

"Can you read my thoughts?"

"No, I'm not an oracle or something."

"Too bad." Very good.

"But," a smirk tugged on the corners of Nikk's lips. "I can show you mine."

He moved to the edge of his bed and held out his hand to Anya. It looked like an invitation. An appealing one.

Still harboring doubts, Anya put the blanket away and took Nikk's hand. "Where are we going?"

"You'll see," he said, his eyes mischievously twinkling in the dimness of the room. "Close your eyes. And try not to think too loud."

Anya had no idea how to do that, but she closed her eyes, took a deep breath and tried to relax as much as she could.

Nothing happened.

She was quite disappointed and was about to say so, when all of a sudden she sensed it. The touch at the back of her head, lighter than the brush of a feather. Then, this new sensation rushed over her whole body, making her skin prickle, wrapping her own thoughts and replacing with someone else's. As though something—or someone—was carrying her, no, her consciousness, far away...

The daylight appeared out of nowhere. Anya blinked, squinting, and looked around. Barefooted as she was, she was standing on the green grass. The warm wind played with tree crowns above her head, the leaves murmured softly, the sun shone through the branches.

"Welcome to my dream," Nikk was standing beside her, inspecting their surrounding with a pleased smile.

Anya inhaled deeply. The fresh air smelled of juniper and meadow flowers. "Where are we?"

"The place where we've first met. Ratri valley at the southwest of Sutāla," the host of the dream world answered. "My memories of it, to be precise."

"Just memories?" Anya couldn't believe it. Everything around her was so vivid, so... real. She ran her hand over the bark of the tree. Its uneven surface felt more than natural. "But how would I know that this is not an actual world, Nikk?"

Nothing could convince her that the valley was a fake. The grass was tickling Anya's ankles, the wind touching her skin, the water splashing in the lake. Every color was so deep, so compelling, Anya would rather believe the rest of her life was fake than this one moment.

"This is not an actual world, because there I can't do this," Nikk said and suddenly disappeared.

Anya froze, stricken, as she saw Max right in front of her, holding an ice cream cone in his hand.

For a moment Anya was confused, bewildered, scared. But then she burst out laughing. There was one thing that made this Max look surreal.

The eyes.

Those still were Nikk's copper eyes, naughty and smiling.

"Never do that again!" Anya breathed between laughs. She scooped up the icy cold water from the lake in her hands, and splashed Nikk with it.

Nikk grinned and became himself again.

"Also," he said, "In the reality I can't do this."

He raised his hand and closed his eyes. Instantly, a yellow canary appeared sitting on his fingers. It twittered, stretched its wings and vanished among the trees.

"I've seen the same one in a pet shop recently," Nikk explained, watching the bird fly away. "But this is just a projection of my mind. When I first saw you," he glanced sideway at Anya, "I thought you were a projection as well. Though I couldn't remember where I'd met you."

"You hadn't met me."

Nikk let out a nervous laugh. "Tell me then, how you managed to creep into my brain."

The realization suddenly washed over Anya. "So you don't know either," she stared at him.

"No."

In stunned silence, they stood for a few minutes, watching the leaves tumbling in the wind. Anya's eyes wandered from tree to tree, from branch to branch. There was something off about the nature, something...

Of course.

She laughed inwardly as she saw it. Every curve of every twig was flawless. Perfect. Like they all were cut out from the same model. This astral world lacked imperfection that made the reality unique.

"You know what, never mind," Nikk said at last. "We obviously can't crack the riddle yet, so what's point of trying? Let's go, I'll show you something else."

On the balls of his feet, he turned toward the lake and was gone. Anya blankly stared at the ground where Nikk had been standing less than a second ago.

"Come on!" She heard his distant voice coming from the other side of the lake. "The only thing stopping you is your imagination!"

Anya drew a lungful of air, then let it out in a long sigh, trying to collect her scattered thoughts. Okay, how is it supposed to work in a dream? You close your eyes, visualize what you want to achieve and...

"Thoughts are power, uh?" Nikk asked, standing next to her. Or, she was standing next to him now.

Anya raised her eyes at him. "In the reality, do you teleport the same way?"

"Not exactly, the power of your mind isn't quite enough there," he admitted and pointed at the distance. "Look. That's what I wanted to show you."

They were at the top of the hill now, the forest behind them, and a giant plain where an endless city was shimmering under the sun before them. Anya involuntarily held her breath as she saw thousands of houses, bright as if they were glazed with liquid mirrors.

"Is that Sutāla?"

"Yes," Nikk nodded, gazing at the city. "Sutāla. Our country. My