Magic Graves

island far in the Ocean, behind the Hvalynskii Sea. It's a place of deep magic where a number of legendary creatures and items are located: Alatyr, the father of all stones; the fiery pillar; the Drevo-Doob, the World Oak; the cave where the legendary sword Kladenets is hidden; the Raven prophet, and so on. It's the discount warehouse of Russian legends. Any time the folkloric heroes needed a magic object, they made a trip to it."
    "Let's concentrate on the tree," Saiman said.
    I knew Slavic mythology well enough, but I hadn't had to use it for a while and I was a bit rusty. "It's a symbol of nature. Creature of the earth at its roots, the serpent, the frog and so on. There is a raven with a prophet gift in the branches. Some myths say that there are iron chains wrapped around the tree's trunk. A black cat walks the chain, telling stories and fables..."
    Saiman nodded.
    Oh crap. "It's that damn cat, isn't it?"
    "The oak produces an acorn once every seven years. Seven months, seven days, and seven hours after the acorn falls from the tree, it will crack and grow into the World Oak. In effect, the tree manifests at the location of the acorn for the period of seven minutes."
    I frowned. "Let me guess, you stole the acorn from the Russians and swallowed it."
    Saiman nodded.
    "Why? Are you eager to hear a bedtime story?"
    "The cat possesses infinite knowledge. Seven minutes is time enough to ask and hear an answer to one question. Only the owner of the acorn can ask the question."
    I shook my head. "Saiman, nothing is free. You have to pay for everything, knowledge included. What will it cost you to ask a question?"
    "The price is irrelevant if I get an answer." Saiman smiled.
    I sighed. "Answer my question: Why do smart people tend to be stupid?"
    "Because we think we know better. We think that our intellect affords us special privileges and lets us beat the odds. That's why talented mathematicians try to defraud casinos and young brilliant mages make bargains with forces beyond their control."
    Well, he answered the question.
    "When is the acorn due for its big kaboom?"
    "In four hours and forty seven minutes."
    "The volhvs will tear this highrise apart stone by stone to get it back, and I'm your last line of defense?"
    "That's an accurate assessment. I did ask for the best person available."
    I sighed. "Still want that sandwich?"
    "Very much."
    I headed to the door.
    "Kate?"
    "Yes?"
    "The endar?"
    I turned to him. "Why were you chained?"
    Saiman grimaced. "The acorn makes it difficult to control my magic. It forces me to continuously change shape. Most of the time I'm able to keep the changes subtle, but once in a while the acorn causes contortions. Gina Castor walked in on me during such a moment. I'm afraid I was convulsing, so my recollection may be somewhat murky, but I do believe I had at least one partially formed breast and three arms. She overreacted. Odd, considering her profile."
    "Her profile?"
    "I studied my bodyguards very carefully," Saiman said. "I handpicked three teams. The first refused to take the job, the second was out due to injuries. Castor and Rodriguez were my third choice."
    I went back to the bed and ducked under it. They'd chained him with a small padlock. Lock-picking wasn't my strong suit. I looked around and saw the small key on the dresser. It took me a good five minutes to unwrap him.
    "Thank you." He rose, rubbing his chest, marked by red pressure lines. "May I ask why?"
    "Nobody should die chained to the bed."
    Saiman stretched. His body swelled, twisted, growing larger, gaining breadth and muscle. I made a valiant effort to not vomit.
    Saiman's body snapped. A large, perfectly sculpted male looked at me. Soft brown hair framed a masculine face. He would make any bodybuilder gym proud. Except for the bloated gut.
    "Is he preferable to the previous attempt?" Saiman asked.
    "There is more of you to guard now. Other than that, it makes no difference to me."
    I headed into the living room. He followed me, swiping a luxurious robe off a chair.
    We stepped into the living room. Saiman stopped.
    The corpses of endars had melted into puddles of green. Thin stalks of emerald-green moss sprouted from the puddles, next to curly green shoots of ferns and tiny young herbs.
    "The endars nourish the forest," I told him.
    He indicated the completely green carpet with his hand. "How many were there?"
    "A few. I lost count."
    Saiman's sharp eyes regarded my face. "You're lying. You know the exact