The Day Watch (41 page)

“Go ahead,” Anton said, pleased. “I won’t argue, I’ll carry out my orders. Right down the line. Only that’s not what you want, is it? An obedient agent without any initiative?”

Gesar shrugged. “All right. You win. I want to ask you to do something for me, Anton…”

“First answer me… about the Mirror.”

“Then listen. Mirrors have appeared nine times-if we take just the documented and proven instances. Only two of them have been on our side. The last three appearances of a Mirror have been on the side of the Dark Ones, each time at a place where the forces of Light had a significant advantage and plans were being made for… for a large-scale operation of some kind. It’s impossible to fight a Mirror. He beats off any magical attack by rising to the level of his enemy and defends himself against ordinary attacks by using magical means. All you can do is choose who to sacrifice-a dozen of the rank and file magicians or one of the Great Ones.”

“And you decided to let him have Tiger Cub and Svetlana.”

“I didn’t decide a thing! In the first place, until Tiger Cub was killed I wasn’t even sure that what we were facing really was a Mirror!” Gesar smashed his fist down on the desk, spilling the beer. “And nobody was supposed to die. It was all supposed to end with Rogoza being captured-which would have meant he wasn’t a Mirror at all, just an ordinary visiting emissary-or with us retreating. I didn’t expect Tiger Cub to blow her top like that!”

“She was a very impulsive girl.”

“No, Anton. You’re wrong. She was an energetic and impulsive Other, but she had excellent control. And this outburst of hers…” Gesar paused. “It seems that I underestimated the strength of her feelings for Andrei Tiunnikov…”

“They’d been seeing each other a lot just recently,” Anton admitted. “He even went to her place out in the country, and Tiger Cub was very fond of her privacy. And when Andrei… well, just why did he go into Rogoza’s room?”

“To show off to Tiger Cub…” Gesar sighed. “Ah, you little boys and girls, still green, boasting to each other, showing off your magic, your battle scars, talismans, and amulets… why is there so much human stupidity in all of you?”

“Because we are people. People who are Others, but still people. And we don’t become genuine Others right away.”

Gesar nodded. “You’re right again, Anton. You have to live a complete human life, eighty years or a hundred, lose your family and all your loved ones who are human, see how ridiculous the politicians are, building their empires to last a thousand years, and the philosophers, creating their eternal truths for one or two generations… that’s when you become an Other. But while you live your first, human life, you’re still a human being. Even if you can enter the Twilight, cast spells, and read the reality lines… You’re still a human being, Anton. And so is Svetlana.

And Tiger Cub and Andrei were human beings. And your human side is where the Darkness catches you out.

Your weaknesses, your emotions.”

“Is love really a weakness?”

“If you have love in you, it’s a strength. But if you are in love, it’s a weakness.”

“We can’t do it any other way yet.”

“Yes, you can, Anton. It’s hard for you, but you can…” Gesar looked into his eyes. “Well, are you still angry with

me?”

“No. I believe you tried… your best.”

“Yes, I tried. And I pulled it off-that’s the amazing thing.”

“Tiger Cub and Andrei dead, Svetlana powerless-and you say you pulled it off?” Anton exclaimed indignantly.

“Yes. Because all the other options were far worse. And surprising as it may seem, what’s happened doesn’t simply play into the hands of Zabulon and his mangy curs.” Gesar smiled. A cold, ironic smile. A very disturbing, suggestive smile.

“That still won’t do Svetlana any good…” Anton began. Then he stopped, because Gesar shook his head.

“It’s not finished yet, Anton. In fact, it’s only just begun.”

The chief of the Night Watch poured them each a second mug of beer, took a sip, and leaned back in his armchair.

“Boris Ignatievich…”

“Anton, I understand everything. You’re tired. I’m tired too, we’re all tired, we’re full of bitterness, pain, anguish.

But we’re at war, and this war’s a very long way from over yet. If you want to withdraw from it-then go. Live as an ordinary Light One. But while you’re in the Watch… you are in the Watch, Anton?”

“Yes!”

“Well, that’s excellent. Do you like the beer?”

“Yes,” Anton muttered.

“Well, that’s excellent too. Because you’re flying to the homeland of this divine beverage. To Prague.”

“When?” Anton asked stupidly.

“Tomorrow morning. Or rather, afternoon. The morning flight will be postponed until six in the evening and you’ll take another flight with a stopover in Prague.”

“Why?”

“You know that the European office of the Inquisition has moved from Berne to Prague?”

“Yes, of course. Because of Fafnir’s Talon, the artifact that those idiots stole…”

“Precisely. Even without that, the Inquisition has a tradition of changing its location every fifty or a hundred years, and it was a very serious embarrassment for the Berne Watches. Anyway, they’ve settled in now and finally got around to considering our case.”

“So that’s why I got this present… Igor?”

“Yes. He’s already there. We’ve lodged an official complaint, claiming that the Dark Ones organized a deliberate provocation and Alisa Donnikova enchanted Igor, which was the reason for his nervous breakdown… and that unfortunate incident in which a boy drowned. The Dark Ones, of course, are claiming that Igor enchanted Alisa in an attempt to recruit her to our side…”

Andrei snorted at the absurdity of the accusation-recruiting a witch! As if a Dark One could ever stop being Dark.

Frighten her, force her to collaborate, bribe her or blackmail her-all that was possible. But to recruit a witch…

“Well then, the Tribunal will decide who was to blame and what degree of responsibility Igor bears. The lad challenged Alisa to an officially registered duel, so the Watch has nothing to answer for. But if the Inquisition accuses him of exceeding the limits of force required for self-defense or deliberate provocation-there’s only one outcome for him. Into the Twilight. He’s only half-alive as it is… and he doesn’t even seem to want to fight. But we need Igor, Anton. You have no
i.e.
just how badly we need him!”

“Boris Ignatievich, what really happened down there?”

“Really? I don’t know. We didn’t arrange any provocations, you can trust me on that. I sent Igor on vacation because the lad had drained himself completely. Do you know how good working in a young Pioneer Camp is for restoring your powers? Smiling children’s faces, happy laughter, cheerful voices…” Gesar’s voice warmed so much that Anton was almost expecting the serious boss of the Night Watch to lick his lips and start purring at any moment. But Gesar broke off and then continued: “Either our accusation is just, and then there’s a chance of saving Igor. Or everything that happened was just a tragic coincidence… in that case, there’s nothing the Inquisition can accuse us of, but Igor won’t survive the whole business. He’s punishing himself for the death of that boy… and Alisa.”

“What does Alisa matter?”

“He really did fall in love with her… yet another half-baked Other.” Gesar watched as the expression on Anton’s face changed and nodded. “Yes, he fell in love, no doubt about it. So, you’re going to Prague. As our representative at the Tribunal. Defender and prosecutor in the same person. I’ll give you all the necessary documentation in a moment.”

“Ah… but…” Anton was confused. “I don’t have any experience.”

“Nobody has. But you’ll acquire it. My heart tells me that as things develop there are going to be more and more

of these… legal conflicts. Instead of honest battle and open combat. And don’t you look so worried-I’ll probably come to Prague when the session starts. Possibly even with Olga and Svetlana.”

“Why bring Svetlana?”

“Maybe we’ll be able to prove that Svetlana lost her powers because of a provocation by the Dark Ones and receive permission to restore her.”

“How?”

“The same way we did with Igor. The problem isn’t that Svetlana can’t restore her powers rapidly, in just a few months. She can. The problem is that I can obtain permission for healing a second-or third-level magician, but restoring the powers of a Great Enchantress is an extreme case. To do that, we need direct permission from the Inquisition. And not the Moscow branch-it has to be the European office at least.” Gesar raised his mug and smiled. “Prosit, Anton. Let’s drink to your success.”

“Boris Ignatievich, even now you’re still not telling me everything!” Anton almost shouted.

“No, I’m not. Although I’ve already told you more than I ought to. But if you really want to lie awake all night with insomnia…” Gesar thought carefully. “Then add up together everything that’s happened over the last year: the Chalk of Destiny, the death of Alisa Donnikova, the appearance of the Mirror, those ludicrous buffoons the Regin Brothers, and Fafnir’s Talon… and the hysteria everywhere over the end of the second millennium.”

“But there isn’t a single thread connecting all these things,” Anton blurted out.

“Then sleep well,” Gesar said with a smile.

Late December is a time of frivolity and bustling activity. A time of frantic preparation for the holidays, a time for presents and drinking champagne with colleagues, even during the working day. A time of brilliant illuminations in the streets, a time for New Year tree bazaars. With the approach of Christmas and the New Year, even the eternal confrontation between the Others dies down, and Light Ones and Dark Ones suddenly slip into a short-lived dreamy state and sometimes even feel like forgiving their rivals their old offenses. The less serious and deeply felt ones, that is.

Edgar, the Dark magician, was late for a daily operational briefing for the first time since he had moved to the Russian capital from Estonia. The reason was trivial, but any self-respecting magician would have been ashamed to admit it.

Edgar had been feeding the ducks at the pond on Chisto-prudny Boulevard. He’d surrendered to the memories that had suddenly come flooding back and completely forgotten about the time. He’d got lost in his dreams, like a teenage kid after a glass of beer. And when he finally surfaced, he realized the briefing had already begun.

If age teaches you anything, then one of its lessons is certainly not to hurry if you’re already late, so Edgar didn’t rush off to flag down a car or make a headlong dash for the metro. He calmly finished crumbling the bun he’d bought for the mallards darting about nimbly at the
e.g.
of the unfrozen patch of water or scrambling across the
i.e.
and only then set off toward the Chistye Prudy metro station, with the Christmas snow crunching cheerfully under his shoes.

Twenty minutes later Edgar entered the Day Watch office without hurrying and with his gravitas still intact. The elderly vampire couple on watch were decorating the New Year tree. They greeted Edgar just the way they were supposed to-meekly and respectfully.

“The chiefs been asking for you,” the vampire husband told him. “He said to go see him as soon as you turn up.”

“Thank you, Filippich,” said Edgar. “Is the boss in his office?”

“He is now.”

“Aha. Happy holidays to you!”

“And to you, Edgar.”

Edgar rode up to the top floors and sent Zabulon the sign of Hojd through the Twilight.

“Come in,” Zabulon replied.

The chief of the Day Watch required the strict observance of hierarchical discipline from his subordinates, but at the same time he somehow managed to respect the freedom of even the shabbiest werewolf among the security guards and to trust the magicians at the top of the Watch. He didn’t question Edgar directly about why he’d missed the daily briefing session. If he’d missed it, there must have been a good reason.

But there hadn’t been any good reason, and so Edgar thought he’d better simply tell Zabulon the way it was and leave it at that, especially since there hadn’t been any serious operations planned for today. If a tricky situation had come up, they would have reached out to him through the Twilight or they could have simply given him a call on his cell, so Edgar wasn’t feeling particularly guilty.

“Good evening, chief.”

“Good evening, Edgar. How do you like this weather?”

“Snow and no wind. I like it. I’m sorry I missed the planning meeting, chief. There wasn’t anything urgent, was

there?”

“No. But there will be now.”

Zabulon was dressed as usual in his favorite gray suit and gray shirt. Edgar thought he’d never seen the chief dressed any other way. Always a suit and a gray shirt when he was in the ordinary world. And without any clothes at all in his Twilight form.

“Would you believe it, chief, I was daydreaming. Walking on the boulevard at Chistye Prudy, remembering Samara and 1912.”

Zabulon gave a faint smile and sang quietly: “The photo studio… Samara wrapped in mist again, it’s 1912…”

The chief of the Day Watch had a clear, resonant baritone voice. Even though the Dark magicians had known each other for many years, it was the first time Edgar had ever heard Zabulon sing.

“Were you feeding the ducks?” Zabulon asked.

“Yes.”

Zabulon sighed as he indulged his memories briefly. Very briefly. Literally for half a minute. “Okay, Edgar.

Tomorrow you fly to Prague.”

“For the Tribunal?”

“Yes. It’s going to hear several cases, including Alisa’s murder and the Regin Brothers’ case.”

“But weren’t they going to release them tomorrow?” Edgar asked in surprise. “Or have the Light Ones changed their mind?”

“No, they haven’t. They’ve handed the case over to the European office of the Tribunal. And I think Gesar will try to lay the responsibility for what they did at our door. As if we’d planned it. Or incited them.”

“But they don’t have any evidence! Not a shred!”

“Well, that’s why I’m sending you to Prague. You can take a look, see what’s what. And don’t take it easy on anyone. We’ve taken enough, we’ve given way to them over the last two years-it’s time we held our heads up higher.”