The Day Watch (32 page)

“You know,” Anton told her with emphatic seriousness, “call me superstitious, but I was sure Nautilus would come up. I really love that song.”

“Let’s listen to it together,” Svetlana suggested, sitting down on the divan.

“Okay,” Anton agreed, and mentally thanked the person who invented mini-earphones with no hard frame.

I don’t remember the fall, I only remember The impact as I struck the cold stones. How could I have flown so high and then Tumbled down so cruelly, like a fallen angel? Straight back down into the place that we Had left behind, hoping for a new life. Straight back down into the place from where We stared avidly up into the blue heavens.

Straight down…

They sat there for a long time with their arms round each other, each with a tiny Nautilus Pompilius singing in one

ear. The three of them shared the feeling of bitterness and happiness-the magician, the enchantress, and the fallen angel.

“But when I went into the terminal building,” Shagron said, “there was nobody there. They’d just closed the portal, over near the entrance, just a bit to the right, where the baggage hall is. The Light Ones had already removed their HQ and I could just barely sense them, somewhere near the
e.g.
of the airport.

Either they were getting into their vehicles or they’d already driven off.”

“What about the Brothers?” Edgar asked.

“Damned if I know what’s happened to them. I think one of them got killed. The Light Ones immobilized the others and took them away with them.”

“What for?” Deniska asked in surprise, even putting down his coffee. “Why didn’t they finish them off on the spot?”

“Come on, they’re Light Ones!” said Yura, amazed by the question. “The Brothers surrendered, so they just arrested them. They’ll probably hand them over to the Inquisition… The sadists. It would have been better just to kill them.”

“I think he got away after all,” said Nikolai, toying idly with his discharged wand. The Power it had contained only recently had melted the snow on the airport runway in a few brief moments and then dried out the ground. “Well, Yura, what do you think?”

“I can’t sense the Talon. It’s not in Moscow.”

“But how could he have got away?” said Anna Tikhonovna. She kept pursing her lips, and it made her look like a strict school teacher. “How could he slip through Gesar’s fingers? Somehow I can’t believe it.”

“I don’t know,” Yura snapped, “but something happened back there.”

“Maybe he could have used a portal?” Edgar asked cautiously.

“A portal?!” Yura snorted. “Can you use a portal?”

“Not easily,” Edgar admitted. “I don’t have the Power.”

“Oh!” Yura said emphatically, jabbing his finger toward the ceiling in a vague gesture. “And apart from that, after the fight on the boulevard our friend looked like a squeezed lemon.”

“But after the fight in the airport it was the Light Ones’ enchantress who looked like a squeezed lemon,” Nikolai remarked innocently. “And don’t anyone try to convince me she gave the Power away voluntarily.”

“Yes, that’s right,” said Shagron, brightening up. “When you think about it, the energy picture of events at Vnukovo looks pretty much like straightforward vampirism. Everything was kind of purple…”

Yura shook his head skeptically.

“I must admit the Ukrainian didn’t strike me as capable of that. In order to snatch Power from the Light enchantress right under Gesar’s nose, you have to be Zabulon at least. And have the right to a first-level intervention…”

“What have rights got to do with it?” Anna Tikhonovna exploded. “During the last twenty-four hours we’ve registered three gross violations of the Treaty by the Light Ones, including one violent attack using Power! The Light Ones have forgotten what rights mean!”

“Anna Tikhonovna,” Edgar said with feeling. “The Inquisition has given the Light Ones another indulgence. As long as their actions are directed to returning the stolen artifact, the Treaty is suspended. Until Fafnir’s Talon is handed over to the Inquisition, the Night Watch has the right to do whatever it likes. In effect, we’re at war. Like in

‘49-you should remember that.”

The silence in the room was like outer space.

“And you didn’t say anything?” Anna Tikhonovna asked reproachfully.

“What’s the point of making our young people nervous? I’m sorry, Deniska. We’re already at a disadvantage as it is. First-the chief isn’t here, and second-we’ve just had two pretty unsuccessful years… How many times have we been forced to give way to the Light Ones during those two years? Five, ten?”

“So we’re trying to avoid defeatist attitudes, are we?” Yura inquired acidly. “Keeping quiet about things?

Protecting the young people from pernicious influences? Well, well…”

“What’s the point of just saying ‘well, well’?” Edgar snarled. “Why don’t you try suggesting where we go from here?”

“The chief left you in charge,” Yura said indifferently. “So you do the thinking.”

“You and Kolya refused, that’s why he appointed me,” said Edgar, turning gloomy and sulky. “Some fighters you are…”

“Hey, boys, just shut it, will you!” said Anna Tikhonovna, turning scarlet with indignation. “This isn’t the right time.

Even my witches work together better than this.”

“Okay, let’s forget it,” said Yura with a wave of his hand. “You’re asking me what we do now? Nothing. The

Ukrainian can’t go too far out of Moscow. I think he has the Talon with him. If he hasn’t done anything yet, it means the time still hasn’t come. We wait until he comes back. He has to come back-the Talon has to be in Moscow within the next two days. Otherwise the probability peak will have passed, and it will just be a powerful artifact, nothing more.”

Nikolai nodded approvingly.

Edgar looked closely, first at one magician, then the other.

“Then we wait,” he sighed. And he added: “Yes. Our Ukrainian friend has turned out to be cunning, all right. More cunning than Gesar.”

“Ne kazhi gop,” Kolya advised him. “That’s Ukrainian for ‘don’t count your chickens’…”

“Anna Tikhonovna,” Shagron asked in a rather ingratiating tone, “tell the girls to make some coffee. After all this, I feel like I can hardly move…”

“You’re an idle lazybones, Shagron,” said Anna Tikhonovna with a shake of her head. “But all right, I’ll be nice to you, since you distinguished yourself. You’ll be an example for the others.”

Shagron grinned happily.

To my great amazement, it was warm in the tent all night long. Of course, we slept without getting undressed-I just took off my jacket and my shoes and climbed into the sleeping bag I was offered. The tent belonged to the bearded Matvei, and it could have held three or even four people if necessary, but there were just the two of us.

The next tent was about twenty meters away. Immediately after everyone wandered away from the campfire, I could hear the birthday girl moaning sweetly in it, wrapped in someone’s tight embrace-so we weren’t the only ones who sergei Lukyanenko were warm. It was strange. As a southerner, I’d always thought it was cold and miserable in the forest in winter.

I’d been wrong. Maybe it was cold and miserable in the forest, but man can bring his own warmth and comfort with him anywhere he goes. Of course, nature has to suffer a bit as a result, but that’s a different matter. A different matter altogether…

Matvei woke up first. He crawled out of his sleeping bag, stopped at the entrance for a minute as he fiddled with his stylish mountain boots (far superior to my clumsy, thick-soled shoes), unlaced the flap, and went outside. A breath of frost immediately licked at my face. At the same time I felt against my chest the elongated object that the Vikings had passed on to me at the airport. I hadn’t taken a proper look at it since then-there hadn’t been any opportunity.

And I also realized that overnight the cocoon, which hadn’t been fed any further energy, had melted away. I could feel a breath of Power from the object. Or rather, not Power, but power. If there had been even one Other there, he couldn’t have helped sensing the Talon.

I pulled the long, curved object-a case?-out from under my sweater. It looked like a scabbard for a dagger, but it opened like a bivalve seashell. That is, of course, if there are any shells like that in the sea-thirty or thirty-five centimeters long, and narrow.

The case was locked in the Twilight, so no ordinary person could possibly have opened it. Crossing my eyes, I moved closer to the entrance of the tent and threw the flap back a bit so that there was more light.

Inside, lying on dark red velvet, there really was a blackish-blue claw from some huge beast. It looked as sharp as a Circassian dagger-stretching along the entire length of its curved inner surface, there was a groove that looked like it was for drawing blood. The wide end looked as if it had been roughly broken off, like the talon had been hacked out of someone’s foot very crudely, with no ceremony. And I supposed it probably had been.

But then, what kind of beast could have had talons like this? It would have to be some kind of legendary dragon.

What else could it be? But did dragons ever really exist? I rummaged through my memory, trying to find an answer to this question, and shook my head doubtfully. Witches and vampires were one thing-they were just Others-but dragons…

The snow squeaked under Matvei’s feet as he walked back from the stream. With a regretful sigh, I slipped into the Twilight for a moment, closed the case and stuck it back under my sweater.

“Awake already?” Matvei asked as he came closer.

“Uh-huh.”

“You weren’t cold, then?”

“No. It’s incredible. I thought in the middle of winter, in the forest, I was bound to feel cold. But it was warm…”

“You southerners are strange people!” Matvei laughed. “You think what we have here is a real frost? In Siberia they have real frosts. You know what they say? A Siberian isn’t someone who doesn’t feel the cold, he’s someone who’s warmly dressed!”

I laughed. It was well put. I ought to remember that.

Matvei smiled into his beard too.

“There’s a stream over there. You can get a wash.”

“Aha.” I clambered out of the tent and took a short walk to the frozen stream. At the point where the path reached the low bank, someone had broken a neat hole in the
i.e.
Overnight the hole had frozen over with a thin, almost transparent layer of
i.e.
but Matvei had broken it open again. The water was cold, but not cold enough to make even my warmth-loving soul afraid of splashing a few handfuls onto my face. The wash invigorated me, and I immediately felt I wanted to do something, run somewhere…

Or perhaps it wasn’t the wash at all. The day before I’d almost completely drained myself before the airport. And I’d felt exactly the way you’d expect. I’d grabbed some Power from the portal and a little bit from the enchantress, and then expended almost all of it again. But overnight I’d apparently been drawing Power from the Talon.

Its Power was the right kind-Dark Power. I hadn’t really enjoyed using the Light Ones’ Power-it was alien, hard to control. But the Talon’s Power was like mother’s milk to a little infant. It even seemed to breathe in a mysterious way that was almost painfully familiar.

I felt as if I could overturn mountains.

“When are you planning to break camp?” I asked when I got back to the tent. Or rather, not to the tent, but the campfire. Matvei was chopping firewood. The two dogs were circling around him, gazing hungrily up at the pot hanging over the fire.

“When everyone wakes up, we’ll warm up the pilaff, take another shot of vodka to warm ourselves up and then we’ll move on. Why? Are you in a hurry?”

“I probably ought to get going soon,” I said vaguely.

“Well, if you’re in a hurry, go. Keep the jacket… I’ll give you Styopa’s address, you can take it around sometime.”

If only you knew who you’re helping, human…

“Matvei,” I said in a low voice, “I seriously doubt that I’ll have a chance to go looking for Styopa. Thanks, but I won’t freeze.”

“Don’t be silly,” said Matvei, straightening up and holding the ax out in his hand. “If you don’t give it back, you don’t. Your health’s more important.”

I tried to make my smile look wise and sad.

“Matvei… it’s a good thing there’s nobody else here. You know, I’m not actually human.”

Matvei’s eyes immediately glazed over in boredom. He’d probably decided I was some kind of crazy psychic charlatan. Well… I’d just have to prove it to him.

Both dogs instantly lost their joyful bounce, started whining, and huddled down at Matvei’s feet. I raised my barely visible morning shadow from the snow and slipped into the Twilight.

Matvei’s reaction was funny to watch-he was so startled he dropped his ax. It landed on the Newfoundland terrier’s paw and the poor dog yelped deafeningly.

Matvei couldn’t see me. But he wasn’t supposed to see me.

I pulled off the jacket; Matvei wouldn’t be able to see it either, until I threw it out of the Twilight. I felt for some money in my shirt pocket and stuck two hundred-dollar bills in the pocket of the jacket. Then I tossed it at Matvei.

Matvei shuddered and caught the jacket awkwardly when, as far as he could tell, it suddenly appeared out of thin air. He looked around and, to be quite honest, he looked rather pitiful, but I could tell that without this kind of demonstration there was no way I could ever convince him.

I didn’t want to take anything belonging to anyone else away with me, not even a lousy jacket. If people ask no questions and help a stranger who comes wandering up to their campfire out of the forest, you shouldn’t take anything from them if you can avoid it. The jacket was comfortable and obviously not cheap. I didn’t want it. I’m a Dark One. I don’t need other people’s things.

I emerged from the Twilight behind Matvei’s back. He carried on staring wildly into empty space.

“Here I am,” I said, and Matvei swung around abruptly. His eyes were completely crazy now.

“A-a-a-a…” he murmured and fell silent.

“Thanks, I really will get by without the jacket.”