— Hmm? — A questioning eyebrow and a hard stare from a creature that didn't show an ounce of friendliness.
— Hoshino Sora. I need a wagering specialist.
— Stand by. — The goblin scribbled something on a piece of parchment and dropped it into a slot in the high table, and a few minutes later, another goblin appeared. — Follow him. — And bent over a thick book again.
A few minutes of wandering through the winding stone corridors and I find myself in a simple office.
— Good day, Mr. Hoshino. My name is Snorkun, the sweepstakes specialist. You wanted to meet with me? — The goblin gestured to an empty chair.
— Yes. I'll sit down. — I'd like to place some bets on the upcoming Quidditch championship.
— Okay, but first you have to pass the test that you do not have the Prophet's Gift. Gringotts Bank gives its word that no one outside its walls will ever know the results of the test. — On second thought, I'll agree.
— Now, what will it take?
— Just touch this tablet. — I've been given a simple, square, flat piece of wood. — If it smokes, I can't accept your bet. Now, please.
Needless to say, that went well? Astral, spiritual plans, the ability to be there — it's not a gift of the prophet, because you can't always see exactly what you need.
— Well, what were you going to bet on? — and goblin voices are really unpleasant.
— Let's start with the fact that none of the British teams will make the final....
***
— ...I must remind you that in France such rituals can only be performed by licensed masters with special access and one-time permission from a special commission of the French Ministry of Magic.
— I remember, Mr. Marceau. — I nod quietly.
— To get permission, you have to apply in advance to the Ministry, to the appropriate department, where your application will be examined in detail and a decision will be made.
— I remember this. — I prepared for the ritual in advance, spent a day in meditation, did a series of purification rituals, and all of that for the right mood, calmness, and that little man got on my nerves for twenty minutes.
— You have a one-time authorization. For tonight only, from 11:00 to 3:00 in the morning. Violation of these limits is a serious offense and may be considered an act of aggression. Reminder.
— Marceau, you closet rat, shut up and get away from the man! — shouted a burly older man who had just approached. — Why the hell are you getting on his nerves? Do you want something to go wrong? Or are you doing it on purpose, you piece of fat? Who bribed you?! You're going to talk to me now, you piece of shit!
— No, no, no! No, no, no, no! God forbid! Never!
I didn't listen to any more bickering and flattery and went back to my business, of which I had very little left. These two wizards are officially authorized observers of the magical government. Jean Marceau is a representative of the Chronicles and History Department, he will have to put everything down on paper for preservation.
Nicolas Belov is a high-ranking investigator from the Department of Law and Order. There are two other magicians in dark robes, but they are standing thirty meters away. They didn't introduce themselves, they didn't say anything, you only know that they're from some secret department and that they're here in case there's trouble.
I'll tell you what we did. I've been watching the Boisselier family's progress closely, and after another purification ritual, I was finally able to get a look at the planted bastard. I realized that I'd misjudged him a bit, because over the years he'd gotten really fat, and in my vision he was shrouded in dark miasmas.
The rituals had a serious effect on the osprey, partially washing away the smoke cocoon and also breaking off the small suckers I had mistaken for thorns, and I finally decided that I was seeing an infernal spirit.
The same creature one step below is a pre-infernal entity, an evil spirit, but not demonic. I can deal with such a thing now, with enough strength, knowledge, and skill to keep the possessed not only alive, but intact. It's just a shame that the creature can't be preserved in some way to be used for something useful, because exorcism rituals like this drive out the strong and destroy the weaker spirits. It's a shame, really, I could have made some kind of useful artifact out of it, but it's just a waste of so much energy.
Oh yes, this ritual was only allowed because Master Boisselier asked for it personally, and his authority and connections are serious.
— Sora, are you ready? Aren't you nervous? — asks the teacher with exaggerated cheerfulness, although the nervousness is visible in his eyes.
— I am. No, I'm calm. — I answer in a calm voice, because it is true that the procedures performed have calmed the young mind, removed the influence of earthly desires, the mind is clear and peaceful. — All will be well, the spirits favor us...
Others do not see, but my eyes are opened to a wonderful dance of spirits of light, "sun bunnies" and "sparks of storms". Tiny little men, with and without wings, with shining bodies and balls of bright light fire instead of heads, and "sparks of storms" also scatter electric sparks around themselves in impatience. Many small spirits of various elements of nature have gathered in the grass, little Yokai frozen in the branches of trees, yellow, green or blue eyes flashing.
All of them are waiting for the ritual. But only the very first are here because they feel that the rules have been broken and they want to help banish the filth from their world.
The rest have come to absorb the evil spirit's energy or just to eat for free. But I don't mind, if there were no "secret agents" here, I would have called the Yokai closer: if I can't use this energy, at least someone else will benefit from it. Yokai, the stronger ones, can go through several stages of development to become Ayakashi, and having Omyouji at the birth of an Ayakashi will automatically make them friendlier and brighter.
Heh, naive! They think they can copy something for their service! Don't wait! Japan has been preserving its knowledge for centuries, oh no! Until now, most countries in the world haven't even heard the names of the most powerful clans! I turn to the frozen couple.
— Madam, monsieur, please stand by the fire bowl — it's time to begin.
The man and woman obediently take their places. Out of the corner of my eye, I watch the cloaked men. Aha! I don't notice their movements! And it's not the tips of wands sticking out of your long and wide sleeves! But my sleeves are just as good — watch and enjoy! One smooth, theatrical movement from the sower, and seals fly out of the white sleeve of the ritual garment. A moment, and all outsiders are cut off by the barrier of denial: for the next two hours, no magic from outside can penetrate this barrier, and only the magic I have allowed to work inside.
Copy that with your broken artifacts! I notice the couple flinching at my predatory grin, yes, it's been a long time since I've been in that mood! It's like breathing in fresh, frosty air! Like taking off a tight shirt that doesn't allow me to breathe!
— LET'S BEGIN! — A heavy voice rumbled across the ritual floor, and the clap of his hand caused the flames in the bowls to burst into flames.
The Ritual of Divine Exorcism had begun...