The Dormant (The Sublime Electricity Book #4) by Pavel Kornev

Author:Pavel Kornev [Kornev, Pavel]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Magic Dome Books
Published: 2018-02-18T22:00:00+00:00

THE IMPERIAL THEATER BUILDING impressed first-time visitors with its monumentality, the muscular atlantes on its portico and the great many marble statues on its gable. In the center of the roof, there was a towering dome with gilded spire which, in clear weather, was visible even from the outskirts of town.

The inhabitants of the capital mostly didn't share in these delights, and disdainfully referred to the theater as "the birdhouse." No one could say for certain why it had been assigned that derogatory nickname, but it must have either been due to the tower being shaped like a bird cage, or because of all the songbirds living inside.

Getting inside was no work at all: Albert Brandt had been given a basement room in a side wing for rehearsals, and the guard thought his main job was to make sure the actors, costume artists and scene workers kept their smoking outdoors. The little fussy old man simply didn't have time to keep track of guests.

All on its own, the practice space seemed spacious to me, but not too well kept. I didn't stick around there for long. I saw a half-naked girl running down the corridor, and I asked her where to find the gentleman poet, then headed where she pointed. The actress, her teeth clacking in the cold, didn't even think to ask who I was.

It was barely warmer in Albert's office than in the corridor. His only privilege was that he could smoke right at his desk: when I walked across the doorstep, there were thick wisps of smoke curling under the ceiling.

"Leo!" the poet said in surprise, rubbing a whitish cream the consistency of petroleum jelly on his face. "I was just..."

"No!" I held out an open palm. "Don't explain a thing. I don't want to know about your bohemian affairs."

"Come now!" Albert laughed. and continued rubbing in the ointment. "This is to protect me from the sun. Without it, I'd never have survived the summer in Montecalida!"

The poet really did have an allergy to the direct rays of the sun, but I just snorted in disbelief.

"It's raining outside, Albert."

"Doesn't matter!" the poet waved it off and pushed its tin container to the edge of the table. Its top was screwed off, and the label had a white-skinned vampire standing in the sun and smiling.

"Science makes miracles," I laughed, sitting in the chair.

Albert wiped off the rest of the ointment with a paper napkin, threw it into the waste basket and asked:

"What fates brought you here?"

"Liliana left to see her parents."

"Oh!" the poet lit up, opening his desk drawer. "That means we don't have a time limit!" He took out a bottle of wine and started cutting the wax. "Leo, what'll you have?"

"And what about the rehearsal?"

"It's already over. But now that my darling wife is healthy again, I can afford to stay a bit late at work!"

"Did Elizabeth-Maria come during the day?"

"Oh yes!" Albert confirmed. "Her new look caused a true furor! I'm sure they society journalists will write about it in their columns!"

"I'm glad for you.

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