The Night Watch (40 page)

I don't believe it!

Nobody can be forced to commit a vicious act. You can't push anybody into the mud, people always step into it themselves. No matter what the circumstances are, there are no justifications and there never will be any. But people look for justifications and they find them. All people have been taught to do that, and they've all proved diligent pupils.

Yes, of course, there have been, there still are, and there always will be those who have not become Others, but managed somehow to remain human. But there are so few of them, so very few. Or perhaps we're simply afraid to look at them more closely. Afraid to see what we might discover.

'Am I supposed to live for your sake?' I asked. The forest didn't answer, it was already prepared to accept anything I said.

Why must we sacrifice everything? Ourselves and those we love?

For the sake of those who will neither know nor appreciate it.

And even if they did find out, all we'd get for our efforts would be an incredulous shake of the head and insults.

Perhaps it would be worth just once showing humankind who exactly the Others are. What one single Other is capable of when he's not shackled by the Treaty, when he breaks free of the Watches.

I actually smiled to myself as I imagined the scene. The overall picture, not just my place in it: I'd be stopped soon enough. So would any Great Magician or Great Sorceress who decided to violate the Treaty and reveal the Others to the world.

What chaos it would be!

Aliens landing at the Kremlin and the White House wouldn't even come close.

Impossible, of course.

Not my path.

In the first place, because I didn't want to take over the world or throw it into total anarchy.

The only thing I wanted was for them not to force the woman I loved to sacrifice herself. Because the path of the Great Ones is genuine sacrifice. The appalling powers they develop change them utterly.

None of us is quite human. But at least we remember that we used to be human. And we can still be happy and sad, can love and hate. The Great Magicians and Sorceresses move beyond the bounds of human emotions. They probably feel emotions of their own, but we can't understand them. Even Gesar, a magician beyond classification, isn't a Great One. And Olga somehow failed to become a Great One.

They'd screwed something up. Failed to pull off some grand scheme in the struggle against the Dark.

And now they were willing to hurl a new recruit into the breach.

For the sake of humans who couldn't give a damn for the Light or the Dark.

They were driving her through all the hoops an Other is supposed to jump through. They'd already raised her powers to the third grade, now they were working on her mind. Very, very fast.

There had to be a place for me somewhere in this insane pursuit of an unknown goal. Gesar made use of everything that came to hand, including me. Whatever I did – hunting vampires, chasing down the Maverick, talking to Sveta in Olga's body – all that had just been playing into the boss's hands.

Whatever I did now was bound to have been foreseen too.

My only hope was that not even Gesar was capable of foreseeing everything.

That I could find the only way that would ruin his great plan for Sveta's powers.

And avoid causing Evil in the process. Because if I did, it would be the Twilight for me.

But in any case, I'd be doing Sveta a huge favour.

I caught myself standing with my cheek pressed against the trunk of a scrawny pine tree. Standing there, hammering my fist against the wood. In fury or in grief, I couldn't tell which. I held my scratched and bloody hand. But the sound didn't stop. It was coming from somewhere in the forest, from the very edge of the magical barrier around the house. Blows in the same rhythm, a rapid, nervous drumbeat.

I lowered my head and ran between the trees, like an adult still playing at paintball. I already had a pretty good idea of what I'd see.

There was a tiger leaping around in a small clearing. Or rather, a tigress. Her black and orange coat gleamed in the rays of the rising sun. The tigress didn't notice me, right then she wasn't capable of noticing anything. She ran between the trees, the sharp daggers of her claws ripping at the bark. White scars appeared on the pine trees. Occasionally she stopped, rose up on her hind legs and started slashing at the trunks with her claws.

I set off slowly back to the house.

We all of us let off steam the best way we can. We all of us have to struggle, not just against the Dark, but against the Light too. Because sometimes it blinds us.

But don't feel sorry for us: we're proud, very proud. Soldiers in the world war between Good and Evil, eternal volunteers.

T
HE YOUNG
man walked into the restaurant as confidently as if he came there every day for breakfast. But that wasn't so.

He went straight over to the table where the short, swarthy-faced man was sitting, as if they'd known each other for a long time. But that wasn't true either. With his last step he sank smoothly to his knees. He didn't slump, he lowered himself calmly, without losing his dignity or bending his back.

The waiter who was walking past swallowed and turned away. He'd seen all sorts of things in his time, let alone petty incidents like a mafia underling kowtowing to his boss. Only the young man didn't look much like an underling, and the older man didn't look much like a mafia boss.

The trouble he could smell in the air threatened to be far more serious than a mobsters' shoot-out. He didn't know what exactly was going to happen, but he could feel it coming, because he was an Other himself, although he wasn't initiated.

But only a moment later he had completely forgotten the scene he'd just witnessed. He had nothing but a vague sense of unease somewhere near his heart, but he couldn't remember why.

'Get up, Alisher,' Gesar said in a low voice. 'Get up. We don't do that round here.'

The young man got up off his knees and sat down facing the Night Watch chief. He nodded.

'We don't either. Not any more. But my father asked me to go down on my knees to you, Gesar. He followed the old rules. He would have knelt. But now he never will.'

'Do
you know how he died?'

'
Yes.
I saw with his eyes, heard with his ears, suffered his pain.'

'Give me also his pain, Alisher, son of a
devona
and a human woman.'

'Take what you ask, Gesar, Exterminator of Evil, equal of the gods, who do not exist.'

They looked into each other's eyes. Then Gesar nodded.

'I know the killers. Your father will be avenged.'

'I must be the one to do it.'

'No, you will not be able to do it, and you have no right. You have come to Moscow illicitly.'

'Take me into your Watch, Gesar.'

The head of the Night Watch shook his head.

'I was the best in Samarkand, Gesar,' the young man said, staring hard at him. 'Don't smile, I know that here I would be the lowest of the low. Take me into the Watch. As a pupil of your pupils. As a guard dog. I ask this in honour of my father's memory – take me into the Watch.'

'You are asking too much, Alisher. You are asking me to give you your death.'

'I have already died, Gesar. When they drank my father's soul, I died with him. I walked along with a smile while he distracted the Dark Ones. I walked into the metro while they were trampling his ashes underfoot. Gesar, I have a right to ask this.'

Gesar nodded.

'Let it be so. You are a member of my Watch, Alisher.'

Not a trace of emotion showed in the young man's face, but he nodded and pressed his hand to his heart for an instant.

'Where is the thing that you have brought, Alisher?'

'I have it, my lord.'

Gesar reached across the table without speaking.

Alisher opened the small bag on his belt and took out a rectangular bundle of coarse fabric, handling it with great care.

'Take it, Gesar, and relieve me of my duty.'

Gesar covered the young man's open palm with his hand and closed his fingers. When the young man withdrew his hand a moment later, it was empty.

'Your service is completed, Alisher. Now let us simply relax. Let us eat, drink and remember your father. I will tell you all that I can remember.'

Alisher nodded. It was impossible to tell if he was pleased by what Gesar said or simply willing to accept whatever he suggested.

'We will have half an hour,' Gesar stated simply. 'Then the Dark Ones will arrive. They must have picked up your trail, even if they did so too late.'

'Will there be a battle, my lord?'

'I do not know,' Gesar replied with a shrug. 'What does it matter? Zabulon is far away. I have no reason to fear the others.'

'There will be a battle,' Alisher said thoughtfully. He looked round the restaurant.

'Drive all the customers away,' Gesar advised him. 'Gently, unobtrusively. I wish to observe your technique. And we will relax while we wait for our guests.'

About eleven everyone started waking up.

I was waiting on the terrace, lazing in a lounger with my legs stretched out, taking occasional sips from a tall gin and tonic and savouring the sweet pain of a masochist. Every time someone came out through the doors, I greeted them with a friendly wave and a little rainbow that sprang from my spread ringers and went soaring up into the sky. It was a bit of childish fun, and everybody smiled. When Yulia saw my greeting, she stopped yawning, squealed and replied with a rainbow of her own. We competed with each other for a couple of minutes, and then made a rainbow together, a big one that stretched away into the forest. Yulia told me she was going to go and look for the crock of gold, and she strode off proudly under the multicoloured arch, with one of the terriers running obediently at her feet.

I was waiting for certain people.

The first to emerge was Lena. Bright and cheerful, wearing just her swimsuit. When she saw me she was embarrassed for a moment, but then she nodded and ran towards the gates. I enjoyed watching the way she moved: slim and graceful, full of life. Now she'd dive into the cool water, swim on her own for a while and come back for breakfast with a keen appetite.

Next to appear was Ignat. In his swimming trunks and flip-flops.

'Hi, Anton!' he shouted happily. He came over, pulled open the next lounger and flopped down into it. 'How're you doing?'

'I'm in fighting mood!' I told him, raising my glass.

'Good man.' Ignat looked around for a bottle and didn't see one. He reached out and took a sip from my glass. 'Too weak, too much mixer.'

'I got plastered yesterday.'

'In that case you're right, better watch yourself,' Ignat advised me. 'We were on champagne all evening. Then we moved on to cognac later. I was afraid I'd have a hangover, but I'm okay. I seem to have got away with it.'

It was impossible to be offended by him.

'Ignat, what did you want to be when you were a kid?' I asked.

'A hospital attendant.'

'What?'

'Well, they told me boys couldn't be nurses, and I wanted to help sick people. So I decided that when I grew up I was going to be a medical attendant.'

'Great,' I said. 'But why not a doctor?'

'Too much responsibility for me,' Ignat admitted. 'And you had to study for too long.'

'So did you get to be a medical attendant?'

'Yes. I was in an ambulance crew, a psychiatric team. All the doctors loved working with me.'

'Why?'

'Firstly, because I'm really charming,' Ignat explained ingenuously. 'I can talk to both men and women in a way that seems to calm them down and make them agree to go to hospital. And secondly, I could tell when someone was really ill and when he was just seeing something invisible to others. Sometimes I was able to whisper in the doctor's ear, explain that everything was okay and no injections would be required.'

'Medicine has suffered a great loss.'

'True,' Ignat said with a sigh, 'but the boss persuaded me that I'd be more useful in the Watch. And that's right, isn't it?'

'I suppose so.'

'I'm bored already,' Ignat drawled. 'Aren't you bored? I want to get back to work.'

'I think I do too. Ignat, have you got a hobby? Outside of work?'

'What are you interrogating me for?' he asked in surprise.

'I'm curious. Or is it a secret?'

'What secrets do we have?' Ignat asked with a shrug. 'I collect butterflies. I've got one of the best collections in the world. It fills two entire rooms.'

'Very worthy,' I agreed.

'Come round some time and take a look,' he suggested. 'Bring Sveta, she tells me she likes butterflies too.'

I laughed so long even Ignat got the point. He got up, smiling uncertainly, and muttered:

'I think I'll go help get breakfast ready.'

'Good luck,' was all I said. But I just couldn't help myself, and when Ignat reached the door, I called to him: 'Listen, is the boss right to be worried about Sveta?'

He propped his chin on his hand and thought for a moment.

'You know, I think he is. She's all tensed up somehow, just can't let go and relax. And she's got big things ahead of her, not like you and me.'

'You tried your best, did you?'

'What kind of question's that?' said Ignat, offended. 'Come round some time, it'd be good to see you.'

The gin had turned warm, the ice in the glass had melted. I shook my head and put the glass down.

Gesar, you can't foresee everything.

But to fight you – not in a duel of magic, that would just be ridiculous – to fight you in the only arena where I have a chance, in words and actions, I have to know what you want. I have to know how the cards lie in the deck. And what you're holding in your hand.

Who were the players?

Gesar, the originator and organiser. Olga, his lover and consultant, a sorceress punished for some crime. Svetlana, who had to complete the mission and was being prepared with great care. Me, one of the instruments of her education. Ignat, Tiger Cub, Semyon and all the other Light Ones could be left out of my calculations. They were instruments too, but only secondary ones. And I couldn't count on them for support.

The Dark Ones?

Naturally they were involved, but not in any obvious way. Zabulon and his henchmen were concerned about Svetlana's appearance in our camp. They couldn't do anything openly right now. But they could try to sabotage things on the sly or prepare a crushing blow that would bring the Watches to the brink of war.

What else?

The Inquisition?

I drummed my fingers on the armrest of the lounger.

The Inquisition. The structure that oversees the Watches. It reviews disputes and punishes those who violate the Treaty – from either side. It is always vigilant. It collects data on every one of us. But it only intervenes in extremely rare cases and its strength lies more in secrecy than in battle. When the Inquisition considers a case involving a powerful magician, it drafts in fighters from both Watches.

But the Inquisition was involved somehow. I knew the boss. He squeezed the last drop from every opportunity. And the recent business with Maxim, the Maverick Other, the Light One who had gone to work for the Inquisition, was a good example. The boss had made use of the incident to train Svetlana and teach her the lessons of self-control and intrigue, but at the same time he'd discovered a new Inquisitor.

I wished I knew what they were preparing Svetlana for.

So far I was groping in the dark. And the worst thing of all was that the gulf between me and Sveta was getting wider and wider.

I put on the earphones and closed my eyes.

Tonight the fern will unfold its miraculous flower,
Tonight the spirits will come back home,
Clouds from the north, wind from the west,
Soon the enchantress will wave her hand to me.
I live waiting for a miracle, like a Mauser in its holster,
Like a spider in its web,
Like a tree in the desert,
Like a black fox in its hole.

I was taking a risk, a serious risk. Great Magicians become great by trampling over their own kind, but even they don't dare go against their own. Isolated individuals don't survive.

I was running through the telescopes, away from the frightened eyes of children,

I wanted to sleep with a mermaid, but I didn't know how to act with her,

I wanted to turn into a streetcar and drive through your window.

The wind blows from the borderlands, we don't care any more,

The wind blows from the borderlands, we don't care any more.

Be my shadow, my squeaking stair, my bright-coloured Sunday, my sunshine with rain,

Be my god, my birch-tree sap, my electric current, my bent rifle.

I can bear witness that you are the wind, you blow in my face and I laugh,

I do not wish to leave you without a battle, since you dream of me.

Be my shadow . . .

I felt a hand on my shoulder.

'Good morning, Sveta,' I said and opened my eyes.

She was wearing shorts over a swimsuit. Her hair was wet and neat. She must have taken a shower. While I, being a filthy pig, hadn't even thought of taking one.

'How are you after yesterday?' she asked.

'Okay. And you?'

'All right,' she said and turned away.

I waited. With Spleen playing in my earphones.

'What were you expecting from me?' Sveta asked sharply. 'I'm a normal, healthy young woman. I haven't had a man since last winter. I realise you've got it into your head that Gesar threw us together, like mating horses, so you're just being stubborn.'

'I wasn't expecting anything.'

'Then I'm sorry you got a surprise!'

'Did you sense me in the room? When you woke up?'

'Yes.' Svetlana awkwardly pulled a packet of cigarettes out of her pocket and lit one. 'I'm tired. Maybe I am still only learning, and not working yet, but I'm tired. And I came here to relax.'

'You were the one who started talking about everyone faking a good time . . .'

'And you were only too happy to agree.'

'True.' I nodded.

'And then you went off to knock back vodka and organise conspiracies.'

'What conspiracies?'

'Against Gesar. And against me, by the way. How absurd! Even I sensed it! Don't get the idea you're some Great Magician who can—'

She stopped short. But too late.

'I'm not a Great Magician,' I said. 'I'm third grade. Maybe second, but no higher than that. We all have limits of our own that we can't go beyond, not even if we live for a thousand years.'

'I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend you,' Svetlana said, embarrassed. She lowered the hand holding the cigarette.

'Forget it. I've got nothing to be offended at. Do you know why the Dark Ones form families from their own kind so often, and we prefer to choose our wives and husbands from among ordinary people? The Dark Ones find it easier to cope with inequality and constant competition.'