The Nightwatch

by Sergei Lukyanenko

  "I couldn't do it," said Svetlana. "I'm sorry, Gesar. I couldn't."

  "You never could have," I said. "And you were never meant to."

  I opened my hand and looked at the little piece of chalk, which while I held it was no more than that—a wet, sticky piece of chalk. Pointed at one end. Broken off unevenly at the other.

  "How long ago did you realize?" asked Gesar. He came across and sat down beside me. His shield extended to cover us, and the roar of the hurricane faded away.

  "Only just now."

  "What's going on?" exclaimed Svetlana. "Anton, tell me what's going on."

  Gesar answered her.

  "Everyone has his or her own destiny, my girl. For some it means changing other people's lives and destroying empires. For others it simply means getting on with life."

  "While the Day Watch was waiting for you to act," I explained, "Olga took the other half of the chalk and rewrote someone else's destiny. The way the Light wanted it to be."

  Gesar sighed. He reached out and touched Egor. The boy stirred and tried to get up.

  "No rush, no rush," the boss said gently. "It's all over now, or almost."

  I put my arm round the boy's shoulders and rested his head on my knees. He calmed down again.

  "Why all this?" I asked. "If you knew in advance what would happen?"

  "Even I can't know everything."

  "But why all this?"

  "Because everything had to look natural," Gesar said, slightly annoyed. "That was the only way Zabulon would believe what was happening. He had to believe in our plans, and believe that we failed."

  "That's not the full answer, Gesar," I said, looking into his eyes. "It's not even close!"

  The boss sighed.

  "All right. Yes, I could have done things differently. Svetlana would have become a Great Sorceress. Against her own wishes. And Egor would have become our instrument, despite the fact that the Watch was already in his debt."

  I waited. I was very interested to see if Gesar would tell the whole truth. Just once.

  "Yes, I could have done it that way," said Gesar, and he sighed again. "But you know, my boy… Everything that I've done in the twentieth century, apart from the great struggle between the Light and the Darkness, has been dedicated to a single purpose that, naturally, brought no harm to our cause…"

  I suddenly felt sorry for him. Incredibly sorry. Perhaps for the first time in a thousand years the Great Magician, the Most Light Gesar, destroyer of monsters and guardian of states, had been forced to tell the entire truth. Not the beautiful and exalted truth that he was used to telling.

  "Don't, don't. I know!" I shouted.

  But the Great Magician shook his head.

  "Everything I've done was dedicated to that purpose. To force the top levels to repeal Olga's punishment completely. To force them to restore her powers and allow her to pick up the chalk of Destiny once again. She had to become my equal. Otherwise our love was doomed. And I love her, Anton."

  Svetlana laughed. Very, very quietly. I thought she was going to slap the boss's face, but I suppose I still didn't understand her completely yet. Svetlana went down on her knees in front of Gesar and kissed his right hand.

  The magician trembled. He seemed for a moment to have lost his infinite powers: The protective dome began shuddering and dissolving. Once again we were deafened by the roar of the hurricane.

  "Are we going to change the destiny of the world again?" I asked. "Apart from our own little personal concerns?"

  He nodded and asked in return:

  "Why, don't you like the idea?"

  "No."

  "Well, Anton, you can't always be a winner. I haven't been, and you won't be either."

  "I know that," I said. "Of course I know it, Gesar. But still, it would be nice."

  January-August 1998

  Moscow