He directed the horse into narrow, empty streets and soon they were ascending the city tier after tier.

It was quiet around Orel"s castle. He looked back, the riders stopped and turned their horses.

A beautiful and sublime view lay in front of them.

Far below, the night city spread in its magnitude, piercing the sky with spears of sharp towers that lined the fortress wall looking like a thin snake. The downtown sparkled with colorful lights, life there didn"t stop for a moment, unlike in the Lower City that had only its main streets lit. Torch fires glimmered over the Coliseum but farther the city was drowning in the dark, its contours merging into blackness. One couldn"t see where it ended; just separate, distant lights flickering here and there proved that there was a city somewhere in this night, this quietness. The city that was not asleep.

"I hate this city," Orel said. "It"s too small for me!"

Everyone laughed because the city in front of them was enormous.

"I see the lights in the quarters of the Unclean. What are they doing now?" he asked Nikto.

"Some dirty things, likely," Nikto said. "Can they even do anything but dirty things?"

The group of friends laughed again.

"No, I mean it. Many times I looked at their neighborhoods from here and they always have lights at night. I thought the Unclean didn"t need so much light."

"They don"t need light at all. They work," Nikto said, "and they will be working throughout the night, in their workshops and forges. It"s the light of their ovens."

"Let"s go," Orel said, turning his horse and riding to the castle.

The bridge was down, a servant was hastily opening the gates. The watchman on the tower had given him a signal that the master was coming. The square in front of the main entrance was lit brightly.

"Orel, why do you never raise your bridge?" Enriki asked.

"What for?" Orel said. "Let anyone who cares come, and we"ll deal with them."

Tol cackled in approval.

"Wow! What a horse you have!" Orel was looking at Nikto"s stallion in the bright light of torches. The stallion stepped from one hoof to another impatiently and snorted: he wanted to continue his gallop. Nikto pushed off the hood of his cloak and took off his mask. He smiled from his horse barely keeping the stallion in place.

Orel dismounted and passed his beautiful horse to the servant, then reached his hand to the muzzle of Nikto"s black stallion. The horse raised its lip and bared its teeth, growling and showing sharp fangs.

Orel withdrew his hand quickly.

"Is he Unclean?"