The Twilight Watch (17 page)

'Remember, little girl . . .'

I wouldn't be able to remove the block put in place by the
witch, if she was more powerful than me, or at least equal in
power. But fortunately for me, the witch had been very gentle
with their minds.

I emerged from the Twilight and the air hit me like a blast from
a stove. The summer had really turned out hot.

'I remember!' Ksyusha said triumphantly. 'One book was called
Aliada Ansata
.'

I frowned.

That book wasn't a herbarium . . . or at least it wasn't an ordinary
witch's herbarium, it was particularly heinous. It even had a
few vile uses for dandelions.

'And
Kassagar Garsarra
,' Ksyusha continued.

Some of the children giggled. But uncertainly.

'How was it written?' I asked. 'In Latin letters? You know, like
English?'

'No, in Russian,' she replied. 'In really funny, old letters.'

I'd never heard of a Russian translation of that manuscript, which
was extremely rare even among the Dark Ones. It couldn't be
printed, the magic of the spells wouldn't be preserved. It could only
be copied out by hand. And only in blood. Not the blood of a virgin
or a young innocent, those were erroneous beliefs introduced later,
and modern copies like that were no use at all. The
Kassagar Garsarra
was still believed to exist only in Arabic, Spanish, Latin and Old
German. A magician who rewrote the book had to use his own
blood – a separate jab for every spell. And it was a thick book . . .

And Power was lost with the blood.

It was enough to make me feel proud of Russian witches for
producing even one fanatic like that.

'Is that all?' I asked

'
Fuaran
.'

'There's no such book, it's an invention . . .' I replied automatically:
'What did you say?
Fuaran
?'

'Yes,
Fuaran
,' Ksyusha repeated.

There wasn't really anything too horrible in that book. But in
all the textbooks it was mentioned as an imaginary invention.
According to legend, it contained instructions on how to turn a
human child into a witch or a warlock. Detailed instructions that
supposedly worked.

But that was impossible!

Wasn't it, Gesar?

'Wonderful books,' I said.

'They're books on botany, are they?' Ksyusha asked.

'Yes,' I confirmed. 'Like catalogues, kind of.
Aliada Ansata
tells
you where to look for various kinds of herbs . . . and so on. Well,
thank you, Ksyusha.'

There were interesting things going on around here! Right here,
just outside Moscow, a powerful witch sitting in the dark depths of
the forest . . . though hardly – it was only a small stretch of forest . . .
with a library of extremely rare books on Dark magic. And sometimes
she saved children from dim-witted werewolves, for which I
was very grateful. But books like that were supposed to be registered
on a special list – kept by both Watches and the Inquisition. Because
the Power that stood behind them was immense, and dangerous.

'I owe you a chocolate bar,' I told the girl. 'You told me your
story really well.'

Ksyusha didn't make any fuss, she just said 'thank you'. Then
she seemed to lose all interest in the conversation.

Since the little girl was older, the witch had obviously brainwashed
her more thoroughly. Only she'd forgotten about the
books the witch had seen.

And that made me feel a bit less worried.

G
ESAR LISTENED TO
me carefully. He asked questions to clarify
a few things and then said nothing, just sighed and groaned. I
lounged in the hammock with the phone in my hands, telling
him all the details . . . the only thing I didn't tell him was that
the witch had the book
Fuaran
.

'Good work, Anton,' Gesar told me eventually. 'Well done. I see
you remain vigilant.'

'What shall I do?' I asked.

'The witch must be found,' he said. 'She hasn't done any harm,
but she has to be registered. You know, just . . . usual procedure.'

'And the werewolves?' I asked.

'Most likely a group from Moscow,' Gesar commented dryly.
'I'll order a check on all werewolves with three or more werewolf
children.'

'There were only three cubs,' I reminded him.

'The werewolf might only have taken the older ones hunting,'
Gesar explained. 'They usually have large families . . . Are there
any suspicious holidaymakers in the village? An adult with three
or more children?'

'No,' I replied regretfully. 'Sveta and I thought of that straight
away . . . Anna Viktorovna is the only one who came with two,
and all the rest either have no children or just one. The birth rate's
critically low in Russia . . .'

'I am aware of the demographic situation, thank you,' Gesar
interrupted sardonically. 'What about the locals?'

'There are some large families, but Svetlana knows all the local
people well. Nothing suspicious, just ordinary types.'

'So they're outsiders,' Gesar concluded. 'As I understand it, no
one has disappeared from the village. Are there any holiday hotels
or rest homes nearby?'

'Yes,' I confirmed. 'On the far side of the river, about five
kilometres away, there's a Young Pioneers' camp, or whatever it
is they call them now . . . I've already checked, everything's in
order, the children are all in place. And they wouldn't let them
come across the river, it's a military-style camp, very strict.
Lights out, reveille, five minutes to dress. Don't worry about
that.'

Gesar grunted in dissatisfaction and asked me:

'Do you need any help, Anton?'

I thought about it. It was the most important question that I
hadn't been able to answer so far.

'I don't know. It looks as though the witch is more powerful
than me. But I'm not going there to kill her . . . and she must
sense that.'

Somewhere in Moscow, Gesar pondered something. Then he
declared:

'Have Svetlana check the probability lines. If the danger to you
is only slight, then try yourself. If it's more than ten or twelve per
cent . . . then . . .' He hesitated for a moment, then finished briskly.
'Ilya and Semyon will come. Or Danila and Farid. Three of you
will be able to manage.'

I smiled. You're thinking about something else, Gesar. About
something completely different. You're hoping that if anything goes
wrong, Svetlana will back me up. And then maybe come back to
the Night Watch . . .

'And then, you've got Svetlana,' Gesar concluded. 'You understand
the whole business. So get on with it and report back as
necessary.'

'Yes sir,
mon générale
,' I rapped.

'In terms of military rank, lieutenant-colonel, my title would
be at least generalissimus. Now get on with the job,' Gesar
retorted.

I put my phone away and took a minute to classify grades
of Power in terms of military ranks. Seventh grade – private
. . . sixth – sergeant . . . fifth – lieutenant . . . fourth – captain
. . . third – major . . . second – lieutenant-colonel . . . first –
colonel.

That was right – if you didn't introduce unnecessary differentiations
or divide ranks into junior and senior, then I would be a
lieutenant-colonel – and a general would be an ordinary magician
beyond classification.

But Gesar was no ordinary magician.

The gate slammed shut and Ludmila Ivanovna came into the
garden. My mother-in-law. With Nadiushka skeetering restlessly
around her. The moment my daughter was in the garden, she came
dashing across to the hammock.

She wasn't initiated, but she could sense her parents. And there
were plenty of things she could do that any ordinary two-year-olds
couldn't. She wasn't afraid of any animals, and they loved her.
Dogs and cats simply fawned on her . . .

And mosquitoes didn't bite her.

'Daddy,' Nadya said, scrambling up on top of me. 'We went for
a walk.'

'Hello, Ludmila Ivanovna,' I said to my mother-in-law. Just to
be on the safe side. We'd already exchanged greetings that
morning.

'Taking a rest?' my mother-in-law asked dubiously.

We got along fine, really. Not like in the old jokes about
mothers-in-law. But somehow I had the feeling that she always
suspected me of something. Of being an Other, maybe . . . if there
was any way she could know about the Others.

'Just a quick one,' I said cheerfully. 'Did you go far, Nadya?'

'Yes, very far.'

'Are you tired?'

'Yes,' Nadya said. 'But Grandma's more tired than me!'

Ludmila Ivanovna stood there for a second, apparently
wondering whether a blockhead like me could be trusted with
his own daughter. She decided to risk it, and went into the
house.

'Where are you going?' Nadiushka asked, clutching my hand tightly.

'Did I say I was going anywhere?' I asked in surprise.

'No, you didn't say . . .' she admitted and ruffled her hair with
her hand. 'But you are going?'

'Yes, I am,' I confessed.

That's the way things are, if a child is a potential Other so
powerful that she has the ability to foresee the future from birth.
A year earlier Nadya had started crying a week before she actually
started teething.

'La-la-la . . .' Nadya sang, looking at the fence. 'But the fence
needs painting!'

'Did Grandma say that?' I asked.

'Yes. If we had a real man, he'd paint the fence,' Nadiushka
repeated laboriously. 'But we haven't got a real man, so Grandma's
going to have to paint it.'

I sighed.

Oh these terrible dacha fanatics! When people got old, why did
they always develop a passion for gardening, scrabbling in the
earth? Were they trying to get used to it?

'Grandma's joking,' I said, and thumped my chest. 'We do have
a real man here, and he'll paint the fence! If necessary, he'll paint
all the fences in the village!'

'A real man,' Nadya repeated, laughing.

I buried my face in her fine hair and blew. Nadiushka started
giggling and kicking out at the same time. I winked at Svetlana
as she came out of the house, and lowered my daughter to the
ground.

'Run to Mummy.'

'No, better go to Grandma,' said Svetlana, sweeping Nadya up
in her arms. 'For a drink of milk.'

'I don't want milk!'

'You have to,' Svetlana retorted.

And Nadiushka didn't argue any more, she set off meekly to
the kitchen. Even ordinary human mothers and children have
a strange, unspoken understanding with each other. So what
could you expect from our family? Nadya could sense perfectly
well when she could play up, and when it wasn't even worth
trying.

'What did Gesar say?' Svetlana asked, sitting down beside me.
The hammock started to sway.

'He gave me a choice. I can look for the witch on my own,
or I can call in assistance. Will you help me decide?'

'Look at the future for you?' Svetlana asked.

'Yes.'

Svetlana closed her eyes and lay back in the hammock. I pulled
up her legs and put them across my knees. From the outside it
looked perfectly idyllic. An attractive woman lying in a hammock,
resting. Her husband sitting beside her, playfully stroking her
thigh.

I can look into the future too, but not nearly as well as Svetlana.
It's not my speciality, so would have taken me a lot longer to do.
And my forecast would have been unreliable.

Svetlana opened her eyes and looked at me.

'Well?' I asked impatiently.

'Don't stop, keep stroking,' she said with a smile. 'You're in the
clear. I don't see any danger at all.'

'The witch is evidently weary of her evildoing,' I laughed.
'All right, then. I'll issue her a verbal warning for not being registered.'

'It's her library that bothers me,' Svetlana confessed. 'Why would
she hide away in the back of beyond, with books like that?'

'Maybe she just doesn't like the city?' I suggested. 'She needs
the forest, fresh air . . .'

'Then why just outside Moscow? She should go away to Siberia,
where the environment's less polluted and the rarest herbs grow.
Or to the Far East.'

'She's local,' I laughed. 'Patriotic about her own little homeland.'

'Something's not right,' Svetlana said peevishly. 'I still can't get
over that business with Gesar . . . and then suddenly this witch!'

'What's so strange about the Gesar business?' I asked with a
shrug. 'He wanted to make his son into a Light One. I for one
don't blame him. Imagine how guilty he must feel. He thought
the child had died . . .'

Svetlana smiled ironically:

'At this moment Nadiushka's sitting on a stool, dangling her
legs and saying she wants the skin taken off her milk.'

'So . . . ?' I asked, puzzled.

'I can sense where she is and what's happening to her,' Svetlana
explained. 'Because she's my daughter. And I'm not as powerful as
Gesar or Olga . . .'

'They thought the boy had died . . .' I muttered.

'That could never happen,' Svetlana said firmly. 'Gesar's not a
block of stone, he's got feelings. He would have sensed that the
boy was alive. Olga certainly would have. He's her flesh and blood
. . . she couldn't have believed that her child had died. And if
they knew he was alive, the rest was straightforward enough. Gesar
has the power, and he had it fifty years ago, to turn the entire
country upside down in order to find his son.'

'You mean they deliberately didn't look for him?' I asked, but
Svetlana didn't answer. 'Or . . .'

'Or,' Svetlana agreed, 'the boy really was an ordinary human
being. In that case everything fits. They could have believed he
was dead and found him entirely by chance.'

'The
Fuaran
,' I said. 'Maybe this witch is somehow connected
with what happened at the Assol complex?'

Svetlana shrugged and sighed:

'Anton, I want desperately to go into the forest with you, find
this kind botanist lady and subject her to intensive interrogation.'

'But you're not going to,' I said.

'No, I'm not. I swore I wouldn't get involved in Night Watch
operations.'

I understood everything. I shared the resentment Svetlana felt
towards Gesar. And in any case I preferred not to take Svetlana
with me . . . it wasn't her job, to go traipsing through the forest
looking for witches.

But how much simpler and easier it would have been to work
together.

I sighed and stood up.

'Right then, I won't put it off any longer. The heat's eased off,
so it's time I took a stroll in the forest.'

'It's almost evening,' Svetlana remarked.

'I won't be far away. The children said the hut was really near.'

Svetlana nodded.

'All right. Just wait a minute and I'll make you some sandwiches.
And fill a flask with compote.'

While I was waiting, I took a cautious peep into the barn. And
I almost flipped. Not only had Kolya taken half the diesel engine
apart and laid the pieces out on the floor, he now had another
local drunk, Andryukha or Seryoga, rummaging away beside him.
They were so absorbed in their confrontation with German technology
that the 'little bottle' soft-hearted Svetlana had brought for
them was still standing there unopened. Kolya was crooning an
old folk ditty to himself:

My very best friend and I
Worked on a diesel engine . . .

I tiptoed away from the shed.

To hell with the car anyway . . .

Svetlana kitted me out as if I wasn't just going for a walk along
the edge of the forest, but was about to be parachuted into the
middle of the Siberian taiga.

Sandwiches in a plastic bag, a flask of compote, a sturdy penknife,
matches, a box of salt, two apples and a torch.

And she'd also checked that my mobile phone was charged.
Bearing in mind the forest's minuscule dimensions, that wasn't a
bad idea. In an emergency I could always climb a tree – then the
signal would be bound to reach the network.

It was my idea to take the minidisc player. And as I strolled
towards the forest, I listened to The Hibernation of the Beasts:

The medieval city sleeps, the worn-out granite trembles,
The night maintains its silence out of fear of death.
The medieval city sleeps, the dull and washed-out colours
Speak to you like some distant echo – but don't trust it.
In libraries books sleep, storehouses are bloated with barrels,
And geniuses lose their minds on the night watch,
And darkness averages, levels everything: bridges, canals and houses,
Capitols and prisons, all in a single pattern . . .

I wasn't really expecting to find the witch that evening. I ought
to have gone in the morning, and with a team. But I really wanted
to locate the suspect myself!

And to take a look at that book, the
Fuaran
.

I stood at the edge of the forest for a while, looking at the
world through the Twilight. Nothing out of the ordinary. Not the
slightest trace of magic. Except that in the distance, above our
house, there was a bright white glow. A first-grade enchantress can
be seen from a long way off . . .

Okay, let's go in deeper.

I raised my shadow from the ground and stepped into the Twilight.

The forest was transformed into an eddying haze, a phantom.
Only the very largest of the trees were represented in the Twilight
world.