The Twilight Watch (28 page)

'It wasn't the secret police you were hiding from in your hibernation,'
Svetlana said unexpectedly. 'And not even the Inquisition.
You would have talked your way out of it somehow, I can sense
it . . .You didn't want to see what was happening to Russia after
your sabotage.'

Arina said nothing.

Svetlana looked at me and asked:

'What are we going to do now?'

'You decide,' I said, not really understanding the question.

'Where were you going to run to?' Svetlana asked.

'Siberia,' Arina replied calmly. 'That's the way things are done
in Russia – they either exile you to Siberia, or you flee there
yourself. I'll choose a nice clean little village and settle down
somewhere just outside it. I'll earn my own living . . . find myself
a man.' She ran one hand over her magnificent breasts with a
smile. 'I'll wait for twenty years, see what happens. And at the
same time I'll think about what to tell the Inquisition if they
catch me.'

'You can't get past the cordons on your own,' Svetlana muttered.
'And I doubt if we can get you through.'

'I'll . . . hide her . . .' the werewolf coughed hoarsely. 'I . . . owe
. . . her . . .'

Arina narrowed her eyes and asked:

'For what, for healing you?'

'No . . . not for that . . .' the werewolf replied vaguely. 'I'll lead
you . . . through the forest . . . to the camp . . . hide you there . . .
later you'll . . . get away.'

'Nobody's going to . . .' I began. But Svetlana gently put her
hand against my lips, as if she was comforting Nadiushka.

'Anton, it's the best way. It's best if Arina gets away. After all,
she didn't touch Nadienka, did she?'

I started shaking my head. This was rubbish, crazy nonsense!
Had the witch somehow managed to take control of Svetlana's
mind?

'It's the best way,' Svetlana insisted.

Then she turned to Arina:

'Witch, swear me an oath that you will never again take the
life of a human or an Other!'

'I cannot swear such an oath,' said Arina, shaking her head.

'Swear me an oath that for the next hundred years you will
not take the life of a human or an Other unless they threaten
your own life . . . and you have no other means to defend yourself!'
Svetlana concluded after a short pause.

'Now, that's a different matter,' Arina said and smiled. 'Now I
can see that our Great One has matured a bit . . . It's not much
fun spending a century without any teeth. But even so, I obey.
May the Dark bear me witness!'

She raised her open hand, and a small patch of darkness appeared
for a moment on her palm. All the werewolves, the adult and the
cubs, began to howl.

'I return your Power to you,' Svetlana said before I could stop
her.

And Arina disappeared.

I jumped to my feet and stood beside Svetlana. I still had a little
Power left, enough to strike a couple of times, but what did the
witch care about blows like that?

Suddenly Arina reappeared in front of us, smiling. She was already
dressed, and I think she had even brushed her hair.

'I could still fix you without any killing!' she gloated. 'I could
paralyse you or make you ugly.'

'You could,' Svetlana agreed. 'No doubt. Only what would be
the point?'

For a brief moment Arina's eyes were filled with such intense
melancholy that I felt my heart ache.

'There isn't any point, sorceress. Well then, goodbye. I don't
remember kindnesses, but I'm not ashamed to say thank you . . .
so thank you, Great One. It will be hard for you now.'

'I already know that,' Svetlana said quietly.

Arina's gaze came to rest on me and she smiled flirtatiously:

'And goodbye to you, sorcerer. Don't feel sorry for me, I don't
like that. Ah . . . what a pity you love your wife . . .'

She knelt down and held her hand out to Nadiushka.

Svetlana didn't stop her.

'Goodbye, little girl,' the witch said merrily. 'I'm a wicked old
aunty, but I wish you well. Whoever it was that sketched out your
destiny was no fool . . . no fool at all . . . maybe you'll succeed
where we failed? I have a little present for you . . .' She glanced
at Svetlana.

Svetlana nodded.

Arina took hold of Nadiushka's finger. She muttered:

'Shall I wish you Power? You have plenty of Power already.
They've given you everything . . . and plenty of everything . . .
But you like flowers, don't you? Then take this gift from me –
how to use flowers and herbs. That will come in handy even for
a Light Enchantress.'

'Goodbye, Aunty Arina,' Nadiushka said softly. 'Thank you.'

The witch looked at me again. I was dumbfounded, totally
confused, I didn't understand a thing. Then she turned to the
werewolves.

'Well then, lead on, grey wolf!' she exclaimed.

The wolf cubs went dashing after the witch and their mentor.
One filthy little beast even stopped beside a bush, lifted his leg
and sprayed it defiantly. Nadiushka giggled.

'Svetlana,' I whispered. 'They're getting away . . .'

'Let them go,' she replied. 'Let them.'

Then she turned towards me.

'What's happened?' I asked, looking into her eyes. 'What and
when?'

'Let's go home,' said Svetlana. 'We . . . we need to have a talk,
Anton. A serious talk.'

How I hate those words!

They never lead to anything good.

M
Y MOTHER-IN-LAW
clucked and fussed over Nadiushka as she
put her to bed.

'Ah, you little story-teller, what an imagination . . .'

'I did go for a walk with the aunty,' my daughter protested sleepily.

'You did, of course you did . . .' Ludmila Ivanovna agreed happily.

Svetlana winced. Sooner or later all Others are obliged to
manipulate their relatives' memories.

And there's nothing pleasant about that.

Of course, we do have a choice. We could reveal the truth –
or part of the truth – to our nearest and dearest.

But that doesn't lead to good results either.

'Good night, little daughter,' said Svetlana.

'Off you go, go on,' my mother-in-law sniffed. 'You've worn
my little girl out, exhausted her, the poor sweetheart . . .'

We left the room and Svetlana closed the door firmly. It was
quiet, the only sound was the pendulum clock creaking on the wall.

'All that namby-pamby talk,' I said. 'You can't treat a child like
that . . .'

'A girl you can,' Svetlana said, dismissing my opinion. 'Especially
if she's only two. Anton . . . let's go into the garden.'

'The garden, all right, the garden it is,' I agreed cheerfully. 'Let's
go.'

We walked over to the hammock and sat down next to each
other. I could feel Svetlana trying to pull away, hard as that is in
a hammock.

'Start at the very beginning,' I advised her.

'At the beginning . . .' Svetlana sighed. 'At the beginning . . .
that's not possible. Everything's too tangled.'

'Then explain why you let the witch go.'

'She knows too much, Anton. If there's a trial . . . if it all comes
out . . .'

'But she's a criminal!'

'Arina didn't do anything bad to us,' Svetlana said quietly, as if
she was trying to convince herself. 'I don't think she's bloodthirsty
at all. Most witches are genuinely malevolent, but there are some
like her . . .'

'I give up!' I said, raising my hands in the air. 'She kept the werewolves
in line, and she didn't hurt Nadya. A genuine Arina
Rodionovna, she really is. What about the disruption of the experiment?'

'She explained that.'

'What did she explain? That almost a hundred years of Russian
history was flushed down the tubes? That instead of a normal
society, a bureaucratic dictatorship was built . . . with all the consequences
that flow from that?'

'You heard what she said – that would have meant people
finding out about us!'

I gave a deep sigh and tried to gather my thoughts.

'Sveta . . . think about what you're saying. Five years ago you
were a human being yourself! We are still human . . . only we're
more advanced. Like a new twist in the spiral of evolution. If
people had found out, it wouldn't have mattered.'

'We're not more advanced,' Svetlana said with a shake of her
head. 'Anton, when you called me . . . I guessed that the witch
would be watching the Twilight, so I jumped straight to the fifth
level. Apart from Gesar and Olga, I don't think any of our Light
Ones have ever been there. . .'

She stopped. I realised this was what Svetlana wanted to talk
about. Something that was truly terrible.

'What's down there, Sveta?' I whispered.

'I was there for quite a while,' Svetlana went on. 'I discovered
a few things. Just how doesn't matter right now.'

'And?'

'Everything it says in the witch's book is right, Anton. We're
not genuine magicians. We don't have greater abilities than ordinary
people. We're exactly like the blue moss at the first level of
the Twilight. Remember that example from the book about body
temperature and the temperature of the surroundings? All people
have a magical temperature of thirty-six point six. Some who are
very lucky, or unlucky, have a fever – their temperature is higher.
And all that energy, all that power, warms the world. Our body
temperature is below the norm. We absorb power that isn't ours
and redistribute it. We're parasites. A weak Other like Egor has a
temperature of thirty-four. Yours is, say, twenty. Mine is ten.'

I had my answer prepared. I'd already thought about this, just
as soon as I'd finished reading the book.

'But so what, Sveta? What of it? People can't use their power.
We can. So what's the point?'

'The point is that people will never come to terms with that.
Even the best and the kindest always look enviously at those who
have been given more. At the sportsmen, the handsome men and
beautiful women, the geniuses and the ones with talent. But they
can't complain about it . . . it's fate, chance. Imagine that you're an
ordinary human being. Perfectly ordinary. Suddenly you discover
that some people live for hundreds of years, can predict the future,
heal diseases and put a hex on you. Quite seriously, all for real! And
all at your expense! We're parasites, Anton. Exactly like the vampires.
Exactly like the blue moss. If it gets out, and if they invent some
new instrument that can distinguish Others from normal people,
they'll start hunting us and exterminating us. And if we band
together and create our own state, they'll drop atom bombs on us.'

'Divide and protect . . .' I whispered, citing the Night Watch's
main mantra.

'That's right. Divide and protect, not people from Dark Ones,
but people from Others in general.'

I laughed and looked up into the night sky, remembering myself
when I was a little younger, walking along a dark street to a
rendezvous with vampires. With a passionate heart, clean hands
and a cool, empty head . . .

'We've talked so many times about what the difference is between
us and the Dark Ones,' Svetlana said in a low voice. 'I've found one
way of putting it. We're good shepherds. We watch over the flock.
And I suppose that means a lot. Only we mustn't deceive ourselves
or anyone else. There'll never be a time when all people become
Others. We'll never reveal our kind to them. And we'll never allow
people to build a more or less decent society. Capitalism, communism
. . . that's not the point. The only world that will ever suit us
is one in which people are preoccupied with the size of the trough
and the quality of the hay. Because the moment they lift their heads
out of the trough, and look round and see us, we'll be finished.'

I gazed into the sky and toyed with Svetlana's hand as it lay
there on my knees. Just a hand, warm and limp . . . and only a
short while ago it been raining down bolts of lightning on the
witch who had sabotaged Russia . . .

The limp hand of a Great Enchantress, who had only half as
much magic as me.

'And there's nothing to be done,' Svetlana whispered. 'The
Watches won't let the ordinary people out of the cattle-shed. In
the States there'll be huge feeding troughs that make you want to
dive in over your head. Somewhere over in Uruguay, there'll be
sparse grass on the mountain pastures, so people have no time to
look up at the sky. The only thing we can do is choose the prettiest
cattle-shed and paint it a nice bright colour.'

'What if you tell the Others all this?'

'It won't bother the Dark Ones at all. And the Light Ones will
come to terms with it. I learned a truth I didn't want to know,
Anton – and I've come to terms with it. Maybe I shouldn't have
told you. But that would have been dishonest. As if you were part
of the herd too.'

'Sveta . . .' I looked at the faint glow of the night light in the
window. 'What's Nadiushka's magical temperature?'

She hesitated before she answered.

'Zero.'

'The Greatest of the Great . . .' I said.

'Absolutely no magic in her at all . . .' said Svetlana.

'So now what do we do?'

'Carry on living,' Svetlana said simply. 'I'm an Other . . . it's too
late now to pretend to be innocent. I take Power from people or
I draw it from the Twilight – either way, it's not my Power. But
I'm not to blame for that.'

'Sveta, I'm going to Gesar. Right now. I'm leaving the Watch.'

'I know. Go.'

I got up and steadied the swaying hammock. It was dark, and
I couldn't see Svetlana's face.

'Go, Anton,' she repeated. 'It's going to be hard for us to look
into each other's eyes. We need time to get used to this.'

'What's down there, on the fifth level?' I asked.

'It's best if you don't know.'

'All right. I'll ask Gesar.'

'Let him tell you . . . if he wants to.'

I leaned down and touched her cheek – it was wet with tears.

'It's shameful . . .' she whispered. 'Shameful . . . to be a parasite.'

'Hang in there . . .'

'I am.'

When I went into the barn, I heard a door close – Svetlana
had gone back into the house. Without bothering to switch on
the light, I got into the car and pulled the door shut.

Right then, what had Uncle Kolya done with it? Should I start
it or shouldn't I?

The car started first time and the engine began purring quietly.

I switched on the dipped beams and drove out of the barn.

What about the rules of concealment?

To hell with them. Why should the shepherd hide from the
flock?

I opened the gates with a brief wave of my hand, without
getting out of the car. I drove out into the street and stepped on
the accelerator. The village looked empty and lifeless. Someone
had sprinkled sleeping pills in the sheep's feed.

The car tore out onto the country road. I switched to full beams
and put my foot down. The wind rushed in through the open
window.

I felt for the remote control on the steering wheel and switched
on the minidisc player.

I entered this windy city without a cloak.
And it wound round my throat just like ivy.
The serpent's coils fettered my soul.
I see a black sun, beneath which I shall never shed a tear.
I am slipping out of character. I am insolent, unfair.
What can a rabbit hope for in a boa constrictor's throat?
The serpent's coils only feel tight at first,
I see a black sun, and dreams the same colour.
I cannot tell sins from virtues, even to save my life.
They're removing the witnesses, turning us to snakes.
And I am willing to rot under any flag,
Prepared to slither, zigzagging across the ground,
And even sing of love, up to my throat in vomit,
If that is what my Motherland requires.

A light appeared up ahead, somewhere near the slip road onto
the motorway. I screwed up my eyes and looked through the
Twilight. There was a temporary militia barrier across the road.
And two men waiting beside it, with two Others.

Dark Others.

I smiled and slowed down.

My brain is a beehive with ants instead of bees.
The bullet's centre of gravity is displaced towards love.
But the serpent's coils are armour plating.
I see a black sun. A sun that hates me.
I could have surrendered without a fight, caught in the devil's
jaws.
But I'll die on my feet – the coils will not let me fall.
The serpent's coils – my brace and my shell.
I see a black sun. And it hurts my eyes.

I stopped right in front of the barrier and waited for the
motorway patrolman holding an automatic rifle to his chest. The
Inquisition were never too choosy when it came to recruiting
people for security cordons.

I handed the militiaman my licence and documents for the car,
and turned the sound down.

I looked at the Others.

The first was an Inquisitor I didn't know, a lean, elderly Asiatic
type. I'd have said he was at the second or third grade of Power,
but with Inquisitors it's harder to tell.

The second was a Dark One I knew very well, from the Moscow
Day Watch. The vampire Kostya.

'We're looking for a witch,' said the Inquisitor. The militiamen
took no notice of the Others. The militiamen had been ordered
not to see.

'Arina's not here,' I replied. 'Is Edgar in charge of the drag-net?'

The Inquisitor nodded.

'Ask him about me. Anton Gorodetsky, Night Watch.'

'I know him,' Kostya said casually, leaning down towards the
Inquisitor. 'A law-abiding Light One . . .'

'Proceed,' said the patrolman, handing back my documents.

'You can drive on,' the Inquisitor said with a nod. 'There'll be
more security posts down the road.'

I nodded and drove out onto the motorway.

Kostya stood there, watching me drive away.

I turned the sound up.

I'm not for or against. I'm not good or evil.
You've been damned lucky with me, my Motherland.
Your serpent's coils are my home, my trap.
I shall crawl under the sun.
Under this cursed sun,
From here to here, and then from here to here,
From here to Judgement Day.