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“And they allow yells in vain!” Vanka commented. “Here you watch, before the second match they’ll already be forbidden. The same was at the last championship. Who wants to become deaf at the very beginning? What do you think, Tanya?”

“Uh-huh. No one,” Tanya agreed with him, contented that Bab-Yagun and Vanka had finally thawed. The unpleasant case with the Chaos spell was forgotten for the time being, even Plague-del-Cake did not appear anymore on Black Curtains. But for how long?

Now Curtains day and night showed the halfback Zhora Zhikin — a dark- complexioned young fellow of thirteen. It was likely that Coffinia had fallen in love again. Seven-Stump-Holes and Gunya Glomov had been sent off to the retirement list. Each morning Coffinia, with indignant howls, tried to shake off the image of Zhikin from Curtains, but every time the image stuck out its tongue and flew away on the mop with propellers. Curtains started to giggle nastily and giggled until briskus-quickus was hurled at them.

All this frankly amused Tanya. She frequently saw Zhikin at training so she knew about him. His mop with propellers even accelerated quite dashingly, but only while no obstacle appeared in its path. Then the mop turned out to be even more useless than a broom, and it was necessary to literally dig Zhikin out of the sand, a thick layer of which covered the stadium.

“Tomorrow the babai will fly in,” reported Yagun. “You know where they’ll be staying? In the Tower of Ghosts. Lieutenant Rzhevskii is prepared even now. He promises that he’ll howl and frighten the babai all night so that they’ll play badly. And Eyeless Horror has ordered Wheelchair to squeak in the room of their trainer till dawn.”

“And okay to you. It’s known to all that the babai use forbidden means. Why do you think they have such a pile of talismans? And when they begin to lose, they even throw spell-traps about. Try proving something then,” said Yagun.

“Where do you know that from?” Vanka did not believe him.

“My granny has been watching all the championships for 300 years. Indeed all their tricks are known to her. She also knows the trainer of the babai — Amat. She says, put him somewhere in the middle between Slander and Stinktopp and multiply all this by Tararakh.”

Tanya honestly tried to visualize the result, but she was not able to do so. The middle between Slander and Stinktopp was easily found, but here it could not be multiplied by Tararakh somehow. Something got stuck in the imagination.

They had recently returned from morning training. Tanya did not have time even to grease the strings with wax and put the double bass away in the case. Her head was still slightly spinning from the set of barrels and loops, which it was necessary for her to carry out. On her cheek was an abrasion — Seven-Stump-Holes was not quite accurate in a pass to her. It was difficult to catch the ball released with such power. True, it would hardly be easier in the match with the babai.

Tanya felt that Nightingale O. Robber was satisfied with her, although more frequently he grumbled but almost never praised. Unless he muttered “not bad” under his breath.

Here only the new bow — the gift of Medusa — that Tanya had difficulty getting accustomed to. No argument, it was much better than the previous one, but now and then, it seemed to Tanya that it behaved too wilfully.

Goyaryn, already awake, with scales polished to a blinding lustre by the genies, trained together with the entire team. It grew heavy in the winter and this disturbed Nightingale, who already had time to make inquiries about the dragon of the babai.

Bab-Yagun, squinting, took a good look at the green strip in the horizon. “We’ll slip to the woods?” he proposed. “It’s marvellous there now!”

Thinking that she had not yet thoroughly seen Buyan, and Tibidox — it was by no means the whole island — Tanya readily leaped onto the double bass. Waiting till Vanka climbed up behind her, she allowed the bow to jump into her hand and uttered the spell. Bab-Yagun, bending down to the pipe of the vacuum, had already rushed forward.

They flew over a barely looping narrow path stretched between the hills, keeping somewhere level with the peak. They passed over the sternly growing dark firs, the frivolous reddish pines, and the gnarled oaks, which were only slightly inferior in antiquity to the famous Cove oak. Tanya would not be surprised that on each of them turned out to be a gold chain with an enormous black cat wandering around. Far away, barely distinguishable beyond the cracked mountain, a narrow strip of ocean turned blue.

Bab-Yagun likely knew the way well. Soon he turned around and briefly waved his hand, showing that it was necessary to land. “Bangus parachutis!” Tanya uttered the braking spell and descended to a small clearing tightly surrounded by the forest. On the clearing grew one lonely tree — a slight steeple-crowned birch, similar to a lit candle. “Aha, I guessed right! Now’s the right time!” Bab-Yagun said contentedly. “See what happens now and make a wish! Only don’t miss the moment!”

He picked from the ground a weighty twig and, having swung it around, threw it into the crown of the birch. The impact on the stem was brief, the leaves only rustled and froze, there was also precisely nothing. But then something suddenly flared up. From the

small birch was detached a transparent ghost, powdered by gold dust, exactly the shape of the crown. The golden cloud of pollen froze in the air, and then slowly, almost elusively crawled to the grove. Having reached the green edge of the forest, the ghost disappeared.

“Did you have time to make a wish?” Bab-Yagun asked Tanya. The girl shook her head. Everything had happened too fast. “No?” Bab-Yagun was distressed. “I warned you! Here I cast a spell so that we would triumph over the babai. And you, Vanka?” Vanka smiled mysteriously. “I’ll not tell,” he said. “Yes, there’s one dream... Whether it’ll come true, that’s another matter.”

They had already made up their minds to fly away when Tanya noticed that to the right of the birch closer to the grove there was a strange little cloud, something reminding her of a human silhouette. It was Unhealed Lady. She was despondently floating along the meadow, occasionally dipping her neck near the ground in order to touch with her nose the flowers in the field and to inhale their fragrance.

“Yes, I know that to us ghosts the sun is mortally dangerous. But no, you don’t have to chase me into the damp and dark of this nightmarish tower! Better I perish here! I’ll wear myself out to death!” Unhealed Lady groaned like her heart was breaking, hardly noticing the children.

“Why did you decide that you’ll perish?” Bab-Yagun hesitated. “You were recently at my granny’s. Yagge said that for a spectre you simply have the health of a bull and you’re blooming.”

“Don’t you dare talk so to a woman!” Lady was insulted. “Your granny understands nothing about noble ailments! Let her treat head colds and corns! I know death threatens me, and I’ll accept it with di... with dignity!” Unhealed Lady dropped her head to her chest and began to sob bitterly. The children exchanged glances. Certainly, Lady was a known alarmist to the entire Tibidox, but indeed even an alarmist must have some reason.

“Last night I again met the King of Ghosts...,” she said through tears.

“It’s impossible! He appears only on New Year’s Eve!” Bab-Yagun began to argue. “But it was definitely him... He looked at me and loathsomely smiled with that toad mouth. And who else can have such a hump? And then, then he disappeared into the wall...” swallowing her tears, Lady said.

“Where was this?”

“In the old part of Tibidox, by the workshop of magic objects. I loved to cry there in solitude, but I’ll not go there anymore for any price... now someone is always roaming there, especially at night. He stomps, interferes with crying, and this fish statue grinds so loudly...”

“The fish statue grinds?” Tanya could not believe it.

“Well yes, he is always moving it aside!” Lady exclaimed crossly. She was annoyed that they were questioning her about this nonsense instead of feeling sorry for her.

“Who moves it aside? The King of Ghosts?”

“OF COURSE NOT, NOT THE KING!” Lady began to yell, finally driven out of her wits. “Oh pitiful dimwits, you’re spoiling my last moments! Why would the King move anything when he can pass through the walls? I tell you that the King was not alone there! There was even some character in an orange raincoat with him!”

Tanya sensed how her hand clutched the bow by itself. “In an orange raincoat? Who is he, did you recognize him?”

Unhealed Lady indignantly stared at her, “I was in shock! And also I don’t stare in general! I by default despise everyone who is indifferent to my health! But now, I beg forgiveness: at this time of the day according to my schedule, I have a twenty-minute faint. Must always treat ones responsibilities seriously!” Lady flickered, moved the straw hat with roses to her eyes and, having languidly rolled her eyes, slipped down into a faint. But even in a faint she did not forget to cast looks at the clock.

“The fish statue and the workshop... Again they... It’s indeed there that I found the magic tablecloth. Will have to visit there again...,” said Vanka.

“Only after the match!” Bab-Yagun stated obstinately. “Now Tanya and I must sleep well at night so that the babai won’t give us a disgraceful thrashing. Clear to you?”

“Clear,” nodded Vanka. He broke off a blade of grass and began to pensively chew it, casting looks in the direction of the huge rock tortoise Tibidox, resting against the sky with sharp scale-towers. This humbleness seemed suspicious to Tanya.

* * *

The babai flew in the day before the match. The whole Tibidox poured out onto the walls to meet them. There was not a single loophole without a curious face looking out. Gunya Glomov in his joy even managed to fall down from a battlement of the fortress and now his neck was in a cast, under which bonegrafts crawled.

All the instructors except Tararakh, whom Nightingale had asked to look at Goyaryn again, crowded on the upper gallery of the Big Tower. Sardanapal, with the moustaches smelling sweet, with the beard combed, was discussing something quietly with Medusa. Professor Stinktopp impatiently minced along the gallery on his thin curved legs, continually repairing the enormous foreign medal hanging on his waistcoat. According to rumour, the medal was awarded to him by the great Merlin. According to other rumours, Stinktopp simply found this medal somewhere and forgot to return it to its owner. Dentistikha smiled dreamily, looking either to the distance from where the babai should appear, or into her book of the dialogues of Plato, whom she once knew personally.

Slander Slanderych, dressed in a new Schutzstaffel uniform (a war trophy of 1945, in memory of the taking of Reichstag by Soviet troops), was magnificently shaved. A tight roll of white birch bark with the salutatory speech protruded from his unbuttoned holster. The dean continually cleared his throat significantly and adjusted the monocle in his eye. Next to him, the head of a mermaid stuck out from an enormous barrel, which he somehow managed to drag over to the Tower. So that the mermaid would not splash, there was water only at the very bottom of the barrel.

Even Eyeless Horror, the most terrible spectre of Tibidox, floated out to the wall in Wheelchair, which he used when he wanted to inspire special fear in someone. Horror smirked nastily. He had on a shirt smudged with blood, a medicine dropper sticking out of each vein, and a rubber tube dived into his mouth. Never before was the spectre dressed up so nightmarishly. Tanya thought that an unforgettable night was waiting for the babai.

Lieutenant Rzhevskii was also rather well prepared. All the knives and daggers protruding from his back were polished and sharpened. From time to time the brash spectre, as if accidentally, opened slightly the bag he had brought with him, a bag filled to the brim with dynamite.

Close at hand with the Lieutenant, languidly straightening her hat, walked Unhealed Lady. It was likely that she recovered satisfactorily from the previous fainting spell, but it was not yet time to drop into a new one. However, just in case Lady was constantly looking at the clock so as not to miss the moment.

“Attention, school! The spell of passage has snapped into action! They’re flying in!” The loud cry of Sardanapal reached the top.

Tanya got up on her toes, impatiently examining the white fluffy clouds, which indeed covered Tibidox like downy pillows.

When those standing on the walls had already completely lost patience, something resembling part of a crane emerged from the cloud nearest to them. The babai flew in a strict order: the trainer in front, the dragon in the center, and ten players at perfectly equal intervals on both sides of it.

Hairy and broad-shouldered, these ancient Egyptian demigods awfully resembled monkey-baboons, except that they were of taller build and had a more intelligent look. With their legs gathered under them, they sat on small woven rugs with tassels, gliding in the air with striking and even partly suspicious swiftness.

The team probably controlled the rugs mentally or by voice, since the hands of the

babai remained free. A sad sigh rolled along the wall. All the players and fans of Tibidox

in a flash grasped that the free hands gave the babai unquestionable advantage. Try to catch a ball when the second hand is busy with the bow or the pipe of a vacuum, but here with two hands — like doing nothing! “Ah!” Yura Idiotsyudov sighed despondently. “Now it’s understood why almost no one has succeeded in beating them!”

Having flown up to the wall of Tibidox, the babai trainer Amat — undersized, very thickset, with cheeks hanging down exactly like a bulldog — looked around and shouted something to his team. All the babai at once, like at a parade, turned in the same moment and began to fly around Tibidox in a lap of honour. They deliberately flew slowly. Motionless, still as idols, they literally adhered to the rugs each with ten small amulets hanging. “We know these honour laps! They’re intimidating!” Spitting out to the side, the forward Seven-Stump-Holes said softly.

Having approached the Big Tower, the babai already without any kind of command soared sharply upward and froze, allowing the spectators covering the walls to examine their dragon. Dusya Dollova began to squeal in horror. Not only Dusya Dollova — even Tanya felt treacherous trembling in her knees.

The Egyptian dragon was brownish with a small snout. Where it proceeded to the neck, it was protected by jointed-to-the-head bone breastplates with sharp outgrowth. The lower jaw was considerably larger than the upper. Two sharp and thin canine teeth came out upward almost vertically, a little fold of skin lifting a bit on the upper lip also preventing it from lowering. Therefore the mouth of the Egyptian monster seemed half- open, but not so that a ball could be thrown there.

The dragon’s green eyes deprived of pupils resembled two gigantic emeralds, which first grew dim then flared up dazzlingly. It was dangerous to look into them: the head would begin to spin and the will would start to weaken.

The slimy scales clearly impregnated with poison grew lighter towards the belly, becoming dirty yellow. The enormous leathery wings, easily keeping the dragon in the air, ended with several sharp spikes, one of which — the upper — was like the tip of a spear. The long and flexible tail crowned with a bone sphere the size of a small

sledgehammer, which undoubtedly would be extremely unpleasant to get hit by it on the head.

But this was not the most annoying discovery. Normal dragons get by only with a pair of hind legs. Their front legs change into wings. This Egyptian theromorpha had four legs. Long and strong, they concluded with powerful claws — three in front and one bending from behind. Tanya tried not to look at them, but they nevertheless involuntarily attracted her gaze.

“Interesting, did the babai explain to their dragon that it must swallow the players of the enemy but not kill them?” Bab-Yagun drawled with doubt.

“Somehow I doubt this very much. Please look only at their fat trainer. I’ve never seen such a malicious face on anyone!” Verka Parroteva butted in. She adored answering all questions, especially those not addressed to her.

Having completed the lap of honour, all the babai descended in such perfect order to the drawbridge. The one-eyed cyclops, patrolling with a poleaxe by the gate, according to habit was about to ask for the password, but only until his pupil, roaming in orbit, met the emerald eyes of the dragon. Then the cyclops threw open the gates with such zeal that he even dropped the poleaxe.

A minute had not even passed when the babai, leaving the dragon below, got up to the wall. These were serious and stern guys. Each held a rolled up flying rug under an arm. The arms of the babai were very long and strong, but their legs were short, so that on walking they continually leaned their fingers against the ground.

“Ah, I’m dying! What magnificent men!” Unhealed Lady sighed, beautifully slipping down along the wall. She clearly hoped to draw attention to herself, but, unfortunately, her hopes were not realized. All gazes were riveted to Lieutenant Rzhevskii, who threw at the babai sticks of dynamite, from which there was much noise and — no harm. “Hur- ray! Take that, fascist, a grenade! Be afraid! Counter-terrorists offence!” he howled.

The babai looked at Lieutenant with bewilderment. Some looked with amazement and even twirled a finger at the temple. “This be also your ceremonial welcome?” the babai