The Day Watch (57 page)
“The expenditure of energy in this process will be borne by the Night Watch of Moscow and it will not be refunded
no matter what the outcome of the trial,” Witezslav continued. “Great Magician Gesar, do you possess the required reserves of Power?”
“Yes,” said Gesar, getting to his feet, “I do.”
Edgar felt he was completely losing the thread of events. What was so important about this Igor Teplov that Zabulon would sacrifice his lover for him and Gesar would expend such a colossal amount of Power?
“Proceed with the rematerialization,” said Witezslav. “Any attempt to hinder it is punishable by immediate death.”
Several of the Inquisitors moved forward slightly, and Gesar sighed and stepped toward Lemesheva. She squealed again, and then fell silent, staring at the Light magician with glazed eyes.
And then Edgar had to squeeze his own eyes shut.
There was such a colossal amount of energy raging in the cen-ter of the hall that he simply couldn’t look. He sensed the Inquisitors erecting magical barriers around Gesar and Lemesheva, one after another. He sensed the barriers crumbling under the pressure of unimaginable Power. And he felt the Twilight shudder as it was torn open through all the layers that Edgar knew and those he had never even suspected existed. If this was temporary rematerialization, then what must a permanent rematerialization be like?
The storm died away. Gesar slowly stepped backward.
There were three figures left in the center of the hall-the Inquisitor Witezslav, the Light magician Igor Teplov, and the Dark witch Alisa Donnikova.
Alisa was trembling, coughing, and clutching at her throat.
Edgar shuddered. He didn’t know what happened to Others there… in the Twilight. And he didn’t really want to know, to be quite honest. But Alisa had just recovered consciousness at the moment when her human life had come to an end. She had come back to life with a searing pain in her lungs, still choking on seawater, struggling desperately with the pressure that Teplov had brought down on her.
“Alisa Donnikova,” the vampire began. Even his voice trembled-temporary rematerialization was an infrequent procedure, very infrequent… “You have been temporarily rematerialized and are now in the premises of the European Tribunal of the Inquisition in Prague. Do you understand me?”
Alisa Donnikova straightened up, already controlling her wheezing. She was looking at Igor Teplov. And nobody else.
“Do you understand me?” Witezslav repeated.
“Why… in Prague?” Alisa asked. She was taking rapid, deep breaths, as if she simply couldn’t get enough air-even the damp air in this dungeon.
“That is not important, Alisa Donnikova. You have been summoned to our world as a witness. A great deal depends on what you say.”
“Can… can I stay here? Again? Forever?” Alisa asked.
But she was only looking at Igor.
“No,” the Inquisitor replied honestly. “Will you answer my questions voluntarily?”
Alisa tossed her head to and fro, with a strange, desperate pride. “Yes, I will, Inquisitor. Ask.”
But she was only looking at Igor.
“The questions concern your duel with the Light magician Igor Teplov, here present. Was the challenge to the duel made in accordance with all the rules?”
“Yes.”
“Tell me, Alisa, do you accuse Igor Teplov of your death?”
Alisa smiled. She gestured with her hand-without turning around, but unerringly indicating Zabulon. “No.”
She was only looking at Igor.
“Do you have any charges to bring against your… opponent?”
She only shook her head.
“Alisa Donnikova, can you accuse anybody who is present here of provoking the sad events that led to your death?”
“Zabulon,” Alisa said in an absolutely indifferent voice. “It was his operation.”
“You cowardly fool!” Zabulon shouted. “They won’t rematerialize you anyway! What are you doing, witch?”
It was only then that Alisa Donnikova turned toward Zabulon. Under her gaze the leader of the Dark Ones fell silent.
“Zabulon, have you forgotten what you said to me when I appealed to you as I was drowning?”
“Stupid, vengeful little fool,” Zabulon said in a calmer voice.
Alisa shook her head. She looked at Igor again and said in a strange, mocking tone of voice, “What has vengeance got to do with it… Love is also a great power, Zabulon.”
“The Inquisition has no further questions,” Witezslav said quickly. “Gentlemen… I think to continue with this
scene… would be unworthy of Others. The charge against Igor Teplov of violating the Treaty is dismissed. Alisa Donnikova can… can go back now.”
Edgar seemed to be watching in a dream as Gesar got to his feet. The triumphant, victorious Gesar, with Zabulon hunched over on his bench… the defeated Zabulon.
It was only when the faces of the Great Magicians suddenly trembled in surprise and confusion that he looked back at the center of the hall.
Alisa Donnikova was disappearing. Her body was changing, sinking into the Twilight as a pale, insubstantial shadow. Lemesheva was crawling on all fours toward Zabulon’s feet.
But Igor Teplov was also disappearing.
Withdrawing into the Twilight.
Edgar hadn’t lied. This really was the first time he had ever seen a Light magician dematerialize. Voluntarily.
Without any fighting or screaming or streams of Power.
Just for one moment Igor Teplov, already transformed into an almost insubstantial shadow, turned to glance at his comrades. With a glance that looked guilty. But apart from that, he only looked at Alisa.
Then he disappeared.
The Twilight closed up. The air in the hall was icy, there was white, bristling hoarfrost clinging to the walls like a shroud of mourning. The triumphant smile was slowly returning to Zabulon’s face. Gesar was looking at the empty circular grille with a weary, sad expression.
“Well?” Zabulon shouted. “Well? You see? Now where’s your mentor? Where is he, the only one who was capable of educating the Messiah of the Light?”
He laughed and patted Lemesheva’s head-she was standing on her knees in front of him. Then he turned to the Inquisition and said, “Yes, it was a Day Watch operation. Within the limits of the Treaty. The exchange of two equal pieces-Alisa Donnikova for Igor Teplov. Do you have any more charges to bring against us?”
“The Inquisition has no charges to bring against you…” the vampire said slowly. He rubbed his face with his hand.
“In view of all the circumstances… The Inquisition will consider the question of the early restoration of Svetlana Nazarova’s Power.
But that… will be later. Everyone… everyone may leave the hall.”
Svetlana was the first to get up from her seat. She walked up to Zabulon and stood for a second, looking into his face. Edgar suddenly realized with a sinking heart that the enchantress was going to hit the magician.
But all she did was say something to him, then turn away and walk out abruptly.
Edgar’s legs felt stiff and awkward as he left his desk. He almost bumped into Gesar, who was musing sadly, engrossed in his own thoughts. Anton immediately came up to Gesar, pushing Edgar aside. He exclaimed, “So what does this mean… Svetlana’s daughter can be an Other, but not grow up to be the Messiah of the Light?”
Gesar nodded.
“Why?” Anton asked with a stupid air. “Surely Svetlana herself…”
“Being a Great Enchantress and raising a Great Enchantress are two quite different things,” Gesar said wearily.
“Alas. I… so far I can’t see anyone else to match Igor. I… I didn’t know how much he loved that witch! I would have looked for some other way.”
“Whose daughter will it be?” Anton suddenly asked. “Svetlana’s and…”
“Whose? If you stop standing there like a fool, gaping at an old idiot, and go after your wife-it will be yours!”
Anton gave a feeble nod and went dashing out of the hall. Edgar also wanted to ask Gesar a couple of questions, but he caught the Light One’s glance and decided not to risk it. He turned away and stepped onto the narrow gray wedge of the Inquisition that jutted out between the black and white halves of the hall.
The Inquisitors were already pulling off their robes. One of them casually tossed his robe into Witezslav’s arms, opened a portal, and disappeared. The others left the usual way, through the door.
The vampire looked at Edgar and asked, “Want to try it on?”
“I’m not sure the cut will suit me,” Edgar replied in a quiet voice.
“Who knows? But it’s worth a try. Or are you intending to go back to Moscow?”
Edgar carefully took the crumpled gray material out of the vampire’s hands. He asked awkwardly, “I beg your pardon… but what was it that Svetlana said to Zabulon?”
“An Inquisitor has to have good hearing.” A crooked grin appeared on the vampire’s face. “Almost nothing at all.
I’d call it a curse, but the Light Ones don’t even know how to curse properly… She said: ‘May no one ever love you.”“
Edgar nodded. He shrugged and said, “He doesn’t need anyone to, anyway.”
Moscow-Nikolaev-Lazurnoe June-October
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