How strange. Colors appeared again here…
"Edgar, are there any more levels?" I asked.
"There always are." Edgar was clearly starting to feel worried. "Come on, Anton! Come on, or we'll get stuck here."
He was right, the world around us was already losing contrast, wreathing itself in gray vapor. But the colors were still there- the mother-of-pearl sand and the pinkish sky…
Already feeling the cold prickling of the Twilight on my skin, I followed Edgar up to the third level. As if it had just been waiting for that moment, the world finally lost all its color and turned gray, filled with a cold, roaring wind. Holding each other's hands-not in order to exchange Power, which is almost impossible, but in order to stay on our feet-we made several attempts to return to the second level. The "trees" on all sides were breaking with a barely audible cracking sound, the witch's bivouac was tumbled over onto its side as we kept searching and searching for our shadows. I don't even remember the moment when the Twilight parted in front of me and allowed me back through into the second level, which seemed almost normal, not frightening at all…
We sat there on the clean-scraped wooden floor, breathing heavily. We were in an equally bad way, the Dark Inquisitor and the Light Watchman.
"Here." Edgar put his hand awkwardly into his pocket and fished out a block of Guardsman chocolate. "Eat that…"
"What about you?" I asked, tearing off the wrapper.
"I've got more…" Edgar rummaged in his pockets for a long time and finally found another pack of chocolate-Inspiration this time. He started unwrapping the fingers of chocolate one at a time.
We ate greedily for a while. The Twilight draws the strength out of you, and it's not just a matter of magical Power-it even affects something as banal as your blood sugar level. And that's about all we've managed to discover about the Twilight using the methods of modern science. Everything else is still as much of a mystery as ever.
"Edgar, how many levels are there to the Twilight?"
Edgar finished chewing another piece of chocolate.
"I know of five," he answered. "This is the first time I've been on the fourth."
"And what's down there, on the fifth level?"
"All I know is that it exists, watchman. No more than that. I didn't even know anything about the fourth level."
"The color came back there," I said. "It's… it's completely different. Isn't it?"
"Uh huh," Edgar mumbled. "Different. That's not for you and me to worry about, Anton. It's beyond our powers. You should be proud you've been down to the fourth. Not all first-level magicians have gone that deep."
"But you can?"
"If necessary, in the line of duty," Edgar admitted. "After all, it's not necessarily the most powerful who join the Inquisition. And we have to be able to stand up to a crazy magician beyond classification, right?"
"If Gesar or Zabulon ever go crazy, we wouldn't be able to stand up to them," I said. "We couldn't even manage the witch…"
Edgar thought for a moment and agreed that the Moscow Office of the Inquisition wasn't really up to dealing with Gesar and Zabulon. But only if they happened to violate the Treaty simultaneously. Otherwise… Gesar would be glad to help neutralize Zabulon, and Zabulon would be glad to help neutralize Gesar. That was the way the Inquisition worked.
"Now what do we do about the witch?" I asked.
"Look for her," Edgar said briskly. "I've already been in touch with my people, they'll cordon off the district. Can I count on your continued assistance?"
I thought for a moment. "No, Edgar. Arina's a Dark One. And she really did do something terrible… seventy-odd years ago. But if she was exploited by Light Ones…"
"So you're going to carry on sticking to your own side," Edgar said in disgust. "Anton, do you really not understand? There is no Light or Darkness in a pure form. Your two watches are just like the Democrats and Republicans in America. They quarrel, they argue, but in the evening they hold cocktail parties together."
"It's not evening yet."
"It's always evening," Edgar said bleakly. "Believe me, I was a law-abiding Dark One. Until I was driven into… until I left the Watch to join the Inquisition. And you know what I think now?"
"Tell me."
"Power of night and power of day-same old garbage anyway. I don't see any difference between Zabulon and Gesar any more. But you, I like… as a human being. If you joined the Inquisition, I'd be glad to work with you."
I laughed. "Trying to recruit me?"
"Yes, any watchman has the right to join the Inquisition. No one has any right to hold you back. They don't even have any right to try to change your mind."
"Thanks, but I don't need to have my mind changed. I'm not planning to join the Inquisition."
Edgar groaned as he got up off the floor. He dusted off his suit-although there wasn't a single speck of dust or a crease anywhere on it.
"That suit of yours is enchanted," I said.
"I just know how to wear it. And it's good material." Edgar went over to the bookcase, took out a book, and leafed through it. Then another, and another… He said enviously, "What a library! Narrowly specialized, but even so…"
"I thought Fuaran was here too," I admitted.
Edgar just laughed.
"What are we going to do about the hut?" I asked.
"There, see-you're still thinking like my ally!" Edgar promptly remarked. "I'll put spells of protection and watchfulness on it, what else… The experts will be here in two or three hours. They'll give everything a thorough going-over. Shall we go?"
"Don't you feel like rummaging around a bit yourself?" I asked.
Edgar looked around carefully and said he didn't. That the little house could be hiding lots of nasty surprises left by the cunning witch. And that digging through the belongings of a witch beyond classification was a job that could be dangerous for your health… better leave it to those who had it in their job description.
I waited while Edgar put up several spells of watchfulness around the hut-he didn't need any help. And we set off for the village.
The way back turned out to be a lot longer, as if some elusive magic that had helped us find our way to the witch's house had disappeared. But then Edgar was far more garrulous now-maybe my help had inclined him to talk frankly?
He told me about his training-how he had been taught to use Light Power as well as Dark. And about the other Inquisition trainees-they had included two Ukrainian Light Enchantresses, a Hungarian werewolf, a Dutch magician, and all different sorts of Others. He said the rumors about the Inquisition's special vaults overflowing with magical artifacts were greatly exaggerated: there were plenty of artifacts, but most of them had lost their magical power long ago and were no good for anything any more. And he told me about the parties the trainees had organized in their free time…
It was all very entertaining, but I knew perfectly well where Edgar was headed. So I started recalling the years of my own training with exaggerated enthusiasm, bringing up various amusing incidents from the history of the Night Watch, Semyon's historical tall tales…
Edgar sighed and dropped the subject. In any case, we'd already reached the edge of the forest near the village. Edgar stopped.
"I'll wait for my colleagues," he said. "They should be here any minute now. Even Witezslav postponed his departure and promised to call over."
I wasn't in any great hurry to invite the Inquisitor back to my place. Especially not in the company of a Higher Vampire. I nodded, but I couldn't help asking: "How would you guess everything's going to turn out?"
"I raised the alarm in time, the witch can't get out of this district," Edgar said guardedly. "The trackers move in now, we'll check everything and arrest Arina. Put her on trial. If you're needed, you'll be called as a witness."
I didn't completely share Edgar's optimism, but I nodded. He should know better what the Inquisition was capable of.
"And the werewolves?"
"That's the
Night Watch's prerogative, right?" Edgar said, answering a question with a question. "If we come across them, we'll let you know, but we won't make a special point of going chasing through the forest. And what makes you think they're still here anyway? Typical city types, out in the countryside for a spot of hunting. You should keep a closer eye on your clients, Anton."
"Somehow I have the feeling they're still here," I muttered. I really did think so, although I couldn't explain why I was so sure. There was no trace of them in the village… and werewolves rarely spend more than twenty-four hours in their wolves' bodies.
"Check the nearby villages," Edgar advised me. "At least the one the witch used to go to for her groceries. But really it's a waste of time. After an unsuccessful hunt they also just tuck their tails between their legs and go into hiding… I know what their type's like."
I nodded-it was good advice, even though it was pretty basic. I should have gone around the outlying areas right away and not tried to catch the toothless old witch. Some detective I was-I'd gotten too interested in that book, Fuaran… What I ought to do was pay more attention to the routine, boring work. Preventive measures were best, as they used to proclaim so correctly in Soviet times.
"Good luck, Edgar," I said.
"And good luck to you, Anton." Edgar thought for a moment and added, "Yes, by the way. It's a strange situation that's come up-both Watches are mixed up in this business with the witch. You pretty much represent the interests of the Night Watch. But I think that Zabulon will send someone too… before the situation is resolved."
I sighed. Things were going from bad to worse.
"And I think I can guess who he'll send," I said. "Zabulon takes pleasure in causing me petty aggravation."
"You ought to be glad he hasn't set his mind to major aggravation," Edgar said dourly. "But you'll have to put up with the petty stuff. Nobody has the power to change another person's nature. Your friend was a Dark One and he'll die a Dark One."
"Kostya's already dead. And he's not a person, he's a vampire."
"What's the difference?" Edgar asked gloomily. He stuck his hands into the pockets of those expensive trousers that he knew how to wear so well and hunched up his shoulders as he watched the red sun sinking down behind the horizon. "It's all the same in this world, watchman…"
Yes, serving in the Inquisition definitely had a strange effect on Others. It made them take a nihilistic view of life. And mouth empty phrases…
"Good luck," I repeated, and started off down the hill. And Edgar creased his suit mercilessly by lying down on the grass and gazing up at the sky.
Chapter 6
Halfway back to the house I met Ksyusha and Romka. The children were striding briskly along the dusty street, holding hands. I waved to them and Ksyusha immediately shouted out: "Your Nadiushka's gone for a walk to the river with her granny!"
I laughed. Ludmila Ivanovna didn't very often hear herself called "granny"-and like any other fifty-year-old Moscow woman, she hated the very sound of it.
"Okay, I hope they enjoy it," I said.
"Have you found the wolves yet?" Romka shouted.
"No, your wolves have run away," I answered.
Maybe, for strictly psychotherapeutic purposes, I ought to have said that I'd caught the wolves and handed them over to the zoo? But then, the little boy didn't seem to be suffering from any lingering fear after his encounter with the werewolves. Arina had done a good job there.
Greeting the small number of village inhabitants I met along the way, I reached our house. Svetlana had occupied my hammock with a bottle of beer and the book Fuaran-Fantasy or Fact? open at the final pages already.
"Interesting?" I asked.
"Uh huh," Svetlana said with a nod. She was drinking the beer rustic fashion, straight from the bottle. "It's more fun than Tove Jansson's Moominpapps at Sea. Now I understand why they didn't print all the stories about the moomintrolls before. The last ones aren't for children at all. Tove Jansson was obviously suffering from depression when he wrote them."
"An author has the right to get depressed too," I said.
"Not if he writes children's books, he doesn't!" Svetlana exclaimed sternly. "Children's books should be heartwarming. Otherwise it's just like a tractor driver ploughing a field crookedly and then saying, 'Ah, I was feeling depressed, it was more interesting to drive around in circles.' Or a doctor who prescribes a patient a combined laxative and sleeping draft and then explains, 'I'm feeling a bit low. I thought it would cheer me up.'"
She reached out to the table and put down the false Fuaran.
"Why, you're very strict, mother," I said with a shake of my head.
"That's why I'm strict-because I'm a mother," Svetlana replied in the same tone. "I was only joking. The books are still wonderful anyway. Only the last ones are very sad."
"Nadiushka and your mother have gone for a walk to the river," I said.
"Did you meet them?"
"No. Oksana said: 'Your Nadia and her granny have gone for a walk…'"
Svetlana tittered, but then she immediately pulled a frightened face. "Don't tell my mother that. She'll be upset."
"Do you think I'm tired of living?"
"Why don't you tell me how your hike went?"
"The witch got away," I said. "We chased her down to the fourth level of the Twilight, but she still got away…"
"The fourth?" Svetlana's eyes flashed. "Are you serious?"
I sat down beside her. The hammock swayed indignantly and the trees creaked, but they held. I gave her a short account of our adventures.
"And I've never been to the fourth level…" Svetlana said thoughtfully. "How interesting… The colors come back?"
"I even thought there were some smells."
Svetlana nodded absentmindedly. "Yes, I've heard rumors about that… That's interesting."
I kept quiet for a few seconds. And then I said, "Svetlana, you ought to go back to the Watch."
She didn't object as usual. She didn't say anything. Encouraged, I went on: "You can't live at half-power. Sooner or later you…"
"Let's not talk about it, Anton. I don't want to be a Great Enchantress," Svetlana said with a wry grin. "A little bit of domestic magic, that's all I need."
The gate banged-Ludmila Ivanovna had come back. I glanced quickly at her and was about to look away-then I stared at her, puzzled. My mother-in-law was glowing. Anybody might have thought that she'd just put some uppity salesgirl in a shop firmly in her place, found a hundred rubles in the street, and shaken hands with her beloved Yakubovich.
She was even walking differently-with light steps, her shoulders held straight, and her chin held high. And she was smiling blissfully. And singing in a soft voice, "We were born to make a fairytale come true…"
I shook my head hard to clear it. My mother-in-law smiled sweetly at us, waved her hand, and in two strides she was past us and heading for the house.
"Mom!" Svetlana shouted to her, jumping up. "Mom!"
My mother-in-law stopped and looked at her, with that same blissful smile still on her face.
"Are you feeling all right, Mom?" Svetlana asked.
"Wonderful," Ludmila Ivanovna replied affectionately.
"Mom, where's Nadiushka?" Svetlana asked, raising her voice slightly.
"She's gone for a walk with a friend," my mother-in-law answered imperturbably.
I shuddered. Svetlana exclaimed, "What do you mean, Mom? It's evening already… children can't go walking on their own… with what friend?"
"With a friend of mine," my mother-in-law explained, still smiling. "Don't worry. You don't think I'm so stupid I'd let our little girl go off on her own, do you?"
"What friend of yours?" Svetlana screamed. "Mom! What's wrong with you? Who's Nadia with?"
The smile on my mother-in-law's face began slowly dissolving, giving way to an uncertain expression. "With that… that…"- she frowned. "With Arina. My friend… Arina… my friend?"
I was too slow to catch exactly
what Svetlana did-I just felt a chill tremor run over my skin as the Twilight was parted. Svetlana leaned slightly toward her mother, who froze with her mouth open, swallowing air in small gulps.
Reading people's thoughts is pretty difficult. It's much easier to make them speak. But we can take an instant snapshot of information from close relatives in exactly the same way as we do between ourselves for the sake of speed.
But then, I didn't need the information anyway.
I already understood everything.
And I didn't even feel afraid-just empty. As if the entire world had frozen over and stopped dead.
"Go to bed!" Svetlana shouted at her mother. Ludmila Ivanovna turned and walked toward the house like a zombie.
Svetlana looked at me. Her expression was very calm, and that made it very hard for me to pull myself together. After all, a man feels a lot stronger when his woman is frightened.
"She just came up and blew on her. Took Nadienka by the hand and went off into the forest with her," Svetlana blurted out. "And she's been walking around for another hour, the stupid fool!"
That was when I realized Svetlana was on the verge of hysterics.
I managed to pull myself together.
"What could she do against the witch?" I grabbed Svetlana by the shoulders and shook her. "You mother's only a human being."
Tears glinted briefly in Svetlana's eyes-and then immediately disappeared. Suddenly she pushed me gently away and said, "Stand back, Anton, or you'll get caught… you can hardly stay on your feet as it is…"
I didn't try to argue. After the adventures I'd had with Edgar I wasn't going to be any help. There was hardly any Power in me. I had nothing left to share with Svetlana.
I ran back a few steps and put my arms around the trunk of the stunted apple tree that was already in its final years. I closed my eyes.
The world around me shuddered.
And I felt the Twilight shift and stir.
Svetlana didn't gather Power from people around her, as I would have done. She had enough of her own-obstinately neglected, unused… and constantly accumulating. They say that after giving birth, female Others experience a colossal influx of Power, but I hadn't noticed any changes in Svetlana at the time. It had all seemed to vanish somewhere; it was being hidden, saved up-as it turned out-for a rainy day.
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