The Night Watch (27 page)

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Authors: Sergei Lukyanenko

BOOK: The Night Watch
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He took a step forward and Alisa darted out of his way.

'A good job, prosperity, self-esteem, all the joys of the world – all in your grasp, all you have to do is decide what you'll have this time. But you're so stubborn. I don't understand you, Anton.'

'And I don't understand you, Zabulon,' said the boss, blocking his way.

The Dark Magician reluctantly redirected his gaze.

'Then you must be getting old. The person in your lover's body is Anton Gorodetsky, the same person we suspect of the serial killings of Dark Ones. Just how long has he been hiding in there, Boris? Didn't you notice the substitution?'

He laughed.

I looked round at the Dark Ones. They still hadn't understood. They needed another second, or half a second.

Then I saw Svetlana raise her hand, with a yellow magical flame flickering in her palm.

So now she'd passed the fifth-grade test – but this was still a battle we could only lose. There were three of us and six of them. If Svetlana struck – not to save herself, but to get me out of this fix – there'd be a bloodbath.

I leapt forward.

It was a good thing Olga's body was well trained and in such good shape. It was a good thing that all of us – Light Ones and Dark Ones – weren't really used to relying on the strength of our arms and legs, on simple, crude violence. And the best thing of all was that Olga, who had been deprived of most of her magic, hadn't neglected the skills of physical combat.

Zabulon doubled up with a hoarse gasp when my fist – or rather, Olga's – sank into his stomach. I swept his legs from under him with a single kick and ran outside.

'Stop!' howled Alisa in a voice filled with admiration, loathing and love all at once.

The hunt was on.

I ran down Pokrovka Street in the direction of Zemlyanoi Val Street, with my handbag bouncing hard against my back. It was a good thing I wasn't wearing high heels. I had to get away, to disappear. I'd really enjoyed the urban survival course, but it was so short – who could have imagined a Night Watch agent would end up running and hiding, instead of chasing and catching?

I heard a screeching wail behind me.

I leapt aside in a pure reflex response, before I could even understand what was happening. A streak of crimson flame came hurtling down the street, coiling and twisting as it passed me, then it tried to stop and turn back, but its inertia was too great: the charge crashed into the wall of a building, momentarily turning the stones white hot.

I tripped and fell, glancing back. Zabulon was recharging his battle staff, but he was moving very slowly, as if there were something hindering him, slowing him down.

He was shooting to kill.

There wouldn't have been even a handful of dust left if I'd been caught by Shahab's Lash.

So the boss was wrong after all. The Day Watch didn't want what was inside my head. They wanted to eliminate me completely.

The Dark Ones were chasing after me. Zabulon was aiming his staff. The boss was restraining Svetlana as she struggled to break free. I got to my feet and started running again, already knowing there was no way I could escape. At least there was nobody around: instinctive, subconscious fear had swept everybody off the street the moment our confrontation began. Nobody else would get hurt.

I heard a squeal of brakes and looked round just in time to see the Day Watch agents jump out of the way of a car careering wildly along the street. The driver stopped for a moment, evidently thinking he'd driven into the middle of a gangland shootout, then picked up speed again.

Should I stop him? No, it wasn't allowed.

I jumped on to the pavement and squatted down, hiding from Zabulon behind an old Volga, letting the stray driver pass. The silver Toyota hurtled past me and then screeched to a halt with a smell of burning brakes.

The door on the driver's side opened and a hand beckoned to me.

Things like this just don't happen!

Heroes only get rescued by passing cars in cheap action movies.

At least that's what I was thinking as I opened the back door and jumped in.

'Get us out of here!' cried the woman sitting next to me. But the driver didn't need any encouragement, we were already moving. There was a flash behind us and the driver swerved out of the path of a streak of fire. The woman began wailing.

How did they see what was happening? As automatic gunfire? Salvos of rockets? A blast from a flame-thrower?

'Why did you come back, why?' the woman asked, trying to lean forward to hit the driver in the back. I was all set to grab her arm, but before I could the car jerked forward and tossed the woman back against the seat.

'Don't,' I said gently.

She glared at me indignantly. She had every right. What woman would be pleased to see her husband stop and risk his life for an attractive, dishevelled female stranger and take her into his car when it's being chased by a gang of armed bandits?

At least the immediate danger was past now. We came out on to Zemlyanoi Val Street and drove on in a solid stream of traffic. My friends and my enemies were both left a long way behind.

'Thanks,' I said to the short hair on the back of the driver's head.

'Did you get hit?' he asked without even turning round.

'No, thanks to you. Why did you stop?'

'Because he's a dumb fool!' the woman beside me yelled. She moved away to the far side of the car, shunning me as if I had the plague.

'Because I'm not a jerk,' the man replied calmly. 'Why were they out to get you? Never mind, it's none of my business.'

'They wanted to rape me,' I said, blurting out the first thing that came into my head. But it was a pretty good cover.

'Where do you want to go?'

'This will do fine,' I said, looking out at the flaming red letter M above the metro entrance. 'I'll make my own way home.'

'We can drop you off.'

'No need. Thanks, you've already done more than enough.'

'All right.'

He didn't argue or try to change my mind. The car braked and I got out. I looked at the woman.

'Thank you,' I said.

She snorted and jerked away, slamming the door shut.

Well, there you go.

But things like that still went to prove our work did make some kind of sense, after all, I thought.

I automatically tidied my hair and dusted down my jeans. People walking by eyed me cautiously, but they didn't shy away, so I couldn't be looking all that bad.

How much time did I have before the hunt picked up my trail? Would the boss be able to slow them down?

That would be good. Because I thought I was beginning to understand what was going on here.

And I had a chance, only a tiny one maybe, but still a chance.

I set off towards the metro, taking the cell phone out of Olga's bag on the way. I started dialling her number, then swore and dialled my own.

It rang five times, six, seven.

I ended the call and dialled my own mobile number. This time Olga answered straight away.

'Hello?' said a slightly hoarse, unfamiliar voice. My voice.

'It's me – Anton,' I shouted. A man walking past looked at me in surprise.

'You idiot!'

I wouldn't have expected anything else from Olga.

'Where are you, Anton?'

'Getting ready to go underground.'

'You'll have plenty of time for that. What can I do to help?'

'Are you up to speed on the situation?'

'Yes, I'm in parallel contact with Boris.'

'I need to get my body back.'

'Where can we meet?'

I thought for a moment.

'The station where I got off after I tried to remove that black vortex from Svetlana.'

'Sure. Boris told me where. Make it three stations further round the circle line, up and to the left.'

She was counting off stations on the plan of the metro.

'Yes, that's okay.'

'In the centre of the hall. I'll be there in twenty minutes. Want me to bring you anything?'

'Just bring me. Anything else is up to you.'

I folded away the phone, shot another look around and walked quickly into the station.

CHAPTER 4

I
WAS STANDING
in the centre of Novoslobodskaya station. It's a common enough sight there when it's not really late yet: a girl waiting, maybe for a bloke, maybe for a girlfriend.

In my case, I was waiting for both.

It would be harder to find me underground than on the surface. Even the cleverest of the Dark Magicians wouldn't be able to pick up my aura through the layers of earth, through all the ancient graves that Moscow stood on, among the crowd, in that dense, agitated stream of people. Of course, combing all the stations wouldn't be too hard either: just one Other with my image for each station would do it.

But I was hoping I still had an hour or at least half an hour before the Day Watch made that move.

How simple everything was, after all. How elegantly the pieces of the puzzle fitted together. I shook my head and smiled, and immediately caught the eye of a young guy dressed in punk style looking at me inquisitively. No, my friend, you're on the wrong track. This woman is only smiling at her own thoughts.

I ought to have got the picture the moment the plotlines all started converging on me. The boss was right, of course. I wasn't valuable enough. They wouldn't have come up with a risky and costly manoeuvre lasting years just for me. It was all about something else, something completely different.

They were trying to exploit our weaknesses. Our goodness and love. And it was working, or almost working.

I suddenly felt like I needed a cigarette really badly, my mouth even filled with saliva. Strange, I'd never really smoked much, it had to be a reaction from Olga's body. I imagined her a hundred years earlier – an elegant woman with a slim cigarette in a long holder, sitting in some literary salon somewhere with Alexander Blok or Gumilev. Smiling as she discussed the Freemasons, the sovereignty of the people and mankind's urge towards spiritual perfection.

Ah, here was someone at last!

'Have you got a cigarette?' I asked a young man walking past – he was dressed well enough not to smoke cheap shit like Golden Yava.

He gave me a surprised look, then held out a pack of Parliaments.

I took one, thanked him with a smile and cast a mild spell over myself. People's eyes slid off to the side.

That was better.

I concentrated, raising the temperature of the tip of the cigarette to two hundred degrees, and inhaled. So we'd wait. And we'd break a few little unquestionable rules.

People flowed past, giving me a wide berth. They sniffed the air in surprise, wondering where the smell of tobacco smoke was coming from. And I smoked, dropping the ash at my feet, eyeing the militiaman standing just five steps away and trying to figure out my chances.

They turned out to be not that bad. Pretty good, in fact. And that bothered me.

If they'd been preparing this manoeuvre for three years, one option they must have taken into account was that I'd see through it. They must have an answer for that – but what was it?

It took me a second or two to register the startled look. And when I realised who was watching me, I gasped in surprise.

Egor.

The kid, the Other with potentially great powers who'd got caught up in the battle between the two Watches three months ago. Played for a patsy by both sides. An open card that still hadn't been dealt. But players don't fight over cards like that.

His powers were strong enough to penetrate my casual cover and the meeting itself didn't really come as a shock. There are many chance events in the world, but apart from that, there's also something called predetermination.

'Hi, Egor,' I said without even pausing to think. I expanded the range of the spell to include him in the circle of distraction.

He started and looked around. Then he stared at me. Of course, he hadn't seen Olga in human form. Only as an owl.

'Who are you and how do you know me?'

Yes, he'd grown. Not on the outside, on the inside. I couldn't understand how he could have avoided making his choice for so long and still not joined either the side of the Light or the Dark. He'd already entered the Twilight, in circumstances that meant he could have gone either way. But his aura was still as pure and neutral as ever.

His destiny was his own. It must be good to have your own destiny.

'I'm Anton Gorodetsky, the Night Watch agent,' I said simply. 'Remember me?'

Of course he remembered me.

'But. . .'

'Take no notice. It's a disguise, we can swap bodies.'

I wondered for a moment if I ought to think back to the course on illusion and temporarily restore my usual appearance. But there was no need – he believed me. Maybe because he remembered the boss's body swap.

'What do you want from me?'

'Nothing, I'm just waiting for a friend, the woman this body belongs to. You just happened to meet me here by chance.'

'I hate your Watches!'

'If you say so. But I really haven't been trailing you. You can go if you want.'

The kid found that far harder to believe than the idea of swapping bodies. He looked around suspiciously and frowned.

Of course, it was hard for him to leave. He'd touched the secret and sensed powers that went beyond the human world. And he'd renounced those powers, at least for the time being.

But I could imagine how much he wanted to learn – at least just a few little things, stuff like conjuring tricks with pyrokinesis and telekinesis, suggestion, healing, cursing – I didn't know what exactly, but he must have wanted to know how to do these things, not just know about them.

'You really haven't been trailing me?' he finally asked.

'No, I haven't. And we can't lie – not directly.'

'How do I know that isn't a lie too?' the kid muttered, looking away. A logical question.

'You don't,' I agreed. 'Believe it if you want to.'

'I'd like to,' he said, still looking down at the floor. 'But I remember what happened up there on the roof. I dream about it at night.'

'You don't need to be afraid of that vampire,' I said. 'She's been laid to rest. By order of the court.'

'I know.'

'How?' I asked, surprised.

'Your boss called me. The one who swapped bodies that time.'

'I didn't know about that.'

'He rang one day when there was no one else home. He said the vampire had been executed. And he said that since I was a potential Other, even if I hadn't made a choice yet, I'd been taken off the list of humans. So I could never be selected by chance again, and I needn't be afraid.'

'Yes, of course,' I said.

'And I asked him if my parents were still on the list.'

I couldn't think of anything to say to that. I knew what the boss's answer had been.

'I'll be going, then,' said Egor, taking a step away. 'Your cigarette's finished.'

I dropped the butt and nodded.

'Where have you been? It's late.'

'Training, I swim. Tell me, is that really you?'

'You remember the trick with the broken cup?'

Egor gave a weak smile. It's always the cheapest tricks that impress people the most.

'I remember. Look—' He stopped short, staring past me.

I turned round.

It was strange to see myself from the outside. A man with my face, walking with my walk, wearing my jeans and sweater, with a walkman at his belt and a small bag in his hand. And that smile, so faint you could barely see it – that was mine. Even the eyes, those false mirrors, they were mine too.

'Hi, Anton,' said Olga. 'Good evening, Egor.'

She wasn't surprised to see the kid there. She seemed very calm altogether.

'Hello,' said Egor, looking first at her, then at me. 'Is Anton in your body now?'

'That's right.'

'How do you know me?'

'I saw you when I was in a different kind of body. Excuse us now, Anton's got serious problems and we've got to deal with them.'

'Should I go then?' Egor seemed to have forgotten that was what he'd been just about to do.

'Yes. And don't get angry, things are going to get hot around here any moment, very hot.'

The kid looked at me.

'I've got all of the Day Watch on my trail,' I explained. 'All the Dark Ones in Moscow.'

'Why?'

'It's a long story. You'd better get off back home.'

It sounded rude. Egor frowned and nodded. He glanced in the direction of the platform, where a train was just pulling in.

'But they'll protect you, won't they?' He was still finding it hard to grasp which of us was in which body. 'Your Watch will?'

'They'll try,' Olga replied gently. 'But now go, please. We haven't got much time, and it's disappearing fast.'

'Goodbye,' said Egor, turning and running towards the train. His third step took him out of the circle of distraction and he was almost knocked off his feet.

'If the boy had stayed, I might have believed he was going to join our side,' Olga said as she watched him go. 'I'd really like to check the probability lines to see why you met him in the metro.'

'By chance.'

'Nothing happens by chance. Ah, Anton, I used to be able to read reality lines like an open book, no problem.'

'I wouldn't mind having decent prevision.'

'Genuine prevision isn't something you can just order from a catalogue. Now, back to business. You want to give my body back?'

'Yes, right here.'

'As you wish.' Olga stretched out her arms – my arms – and took hold of my shoulders. It gave me a stupid, ambiguous sort of feeling. She obviously felt the same thing, because she laughed and said: 'Why did you have to get yourself into this mess so soon, Anton? I had such extravagant plans for this evening.'

'Maybe I should be grateful to the Maverick for disrupting your plans.'

Olga stopped smiling and concentrated.

'All right. Let's get on with it.'

We stood with our backs touching and held our arms out in the form of a cross. I took hold of Olga's fingers, which were also mine.

'Give back what is mine,' said Olga.

'Give back what is mine,' I repeated.

'Gesar, we return your gift!'

I started when I realised she'd spoken the boss's real name. And what a name!

'Gesar, we return your gift!' Olga repeated sternly.

'Gesar, we return your gift!'

Olga switched into some ancient language, intoning the words gently, speaking as if it was her mother tongue. It hurt to feel how hard she had to strain to perform a piece of magic that really shouldn't have been difficult with second-grade powers.

Changing bodies in reverse is like releasing a spring. Our minds had only been maintained in each other's bodies by the energy that Boris Ignatievich Gesar had transferred to us. All we had to do was relinquish that energy and we would resume our previous forms. If either of us had been a first-grade magician, we needn't even have been in physical contact, it could all have been done at a distance.

Olga's voice soared as she pronounced the final formula of renunciation.

For an instant nothing happened. Then I was racked by cramps and shooting pains, everything blurred and went grey in front of my eyes, as if I was sinking into the Twilight. For a moment I could see the whole station – the dusty stained-glass windows, the dirty floor, the slow movements of the people, the rainbows of their auras, two bodies thrashing about as if they'd been crucified on each other.

Then I was pressed and forced and squeezed into the shell of my body.

I gasped as I fell to the floor, putting my hands out just at the last moment. My muscles were twitching, my ears were ringing. The reversal had been far more uncomfortable, maybe because it wasn't performed by the boss.

'Are you okay?' Olga asked feebly. 'Anton, we've got about a quarter of an hour. Tell me everything.'

'What exactly?'

'What you've figured out. Come on. You didn't just want to get back into your own body, you've worked out some kind of plan.'

I nodded, then straightened up, dusted off my palms and brushed at my knees to clean off my jeans. The strap holding my holster was too tight under my arm, I had to loosen it. There weren't many people in the metro now, the flood tide had receded. But that meant those who were left weren't so busy manoeuvring through the crowd, and they had time to think: their auras flared up in bright rainbow colours and I caught the echoes of their owners' feelings.

They'd really limited Olga's powers. In her body it had cost me a lot of effort to observe the inner world of human feelings. But then, that was only a simple thing. Not even anything to feel proud of.

'It's not me the Day Watch want, Olga. They don't want me at all. I'm an ordinary, average magician.'

She nodded.

'But I'm the one they're hunting. There's no doubt about that. So if I'm not the quarry, I must be the bait. The same way Egor was the bait when Sveta was the quarry.'

'Have you only just realised that?' Olga shook her head. 'Of course. You're the bait.'

'For Svetlana?'

The sorceress nodded.

'I only understood it today,' I admitted. 'Just an hour ago, when Sveta wanted to stand up to the Day Watch, she shifted up to fifth-grade powers. In an instant. If a fight had broken out, she would have been killed. We can be controlled too, Olya. Human beings can be turned in different directions, towards Good or Evil, the Dark Ones can be manipulated through their meanness, their vanity, their thirst for power and fame. And we can be manipulated through love. There we're as defenceless as children.'

'Yes.'

'Is the boss in the picture?' I asked. 'Olya?'

'Yes.'

She was finding it hard to get the words out. I couldn't believe it. Light Magicians who had lived for hundreds of years didn't feel shame. They'd saved the world so often, they had all the ethical dodges off pat. Great Sorceresses didn't feel ashamed, not even former Great Sorceresses. They'd been betrayed too often themselves.

I laughed.

'Olya, did you realise straight away? As soon as the Dark Ones lodged their protest? That they were hunting me, but only in order to push Svetlana beyond her self-control?'

'Yes.'

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