I stopped laughing.
‘Do you really believe him?’ Arina asked. ‘The Twilight?’
‘I don’t know. The only thing I do believe is that people make their own destiny. People, and not the Twilight. And not you and me.’
Arina said nothing for a moment, then spread her arms helplessly.
‘Well . . . we’ll never know the answer now, anyway. Never.’
I reached into my pocket, took out the pack of cigarettes and glanced into it. Two left.
There was no point in economising in the face of eternity.
‘Want one?’ I asked.
Arina nodded feebly. She wasn’t even frightened – after all, she had been heading for death anyway. She was thoughtful. As if what I’d done had astounded her.
I stuck both cigarettes in my mouth, lit them and handed one to Arina. She looked at me in surprise.
‘I saw that in some old American movie,’ I explained. ‘I’ve always wanted to do it.’
‘Our great moderniser Peter brought this lousy herb to Russia. I asked him not to,’ Arina muttered.
‘Don’t lie – you were born after Peter was already dead,’ I protested.
‘Better get used to it, we’ve got nothing to do now except tell tall tales,’ Arina retorted and took a drag. ‘Although, of course, there will be other amusements. After all, it’s eternity, you understand,’
I took the cigarette out of my mouth and stubbed it out on the floor, looking over Arina’s head – at the gap opening up in the wall of the impenetrable Sarcophagus.
The Tiger stood there in the gap, with a seething grey haze behind him. I even thought I could see the ‘bubbles’ that Nadya had talked about.
‘Impressive,’ said the Tiger, walking into the Sarcophagus. ‘Did you know that in the entire history of the Inquisition this spell has only been used three times?’
I shook my head. Arina was already on her feet – she seemed to be preparing to fight.
‘In principle, it’s perfectly convincing,’ the Tiger continued, walking unhurriedly towards me. He ignored Arina. ‘But didn’t it strike you that your daughter might draw an unexpected conclusion?’
‘What kind of conclusion?’ I asked.
The Tiger grabbed me by the collar and hauled me up into the air without the slightest effort.
‘For instance, that if the Twilight dies, her beloved daddy will come back from the Sarcophagus.’
‘Is that true?’ I wheezed, clutching at my throat and trying to loosen my collar.
‘No! But is she really going to believe me?’
The next moment the Tiger lunged forward – and we passed through the wall.
Arina’s scream broke off behind me, as if it had been chopped off with a knife.
Once again we were standing in the little house lost in the depths of the forest outside Moscow.
‘Daddy!’ shouted Nadya, dashing towards me. The Tiger let go of my collar and moved a few steps away. I hugged my daughter and looked at him. The Tiger looked morosely at Kesha, standing beside him. The boy seemed to have turned to stone.
‘Don’t even think about it!’ I said.
‘But what guarantees do I have?’ he asked in a low voice.
‘None. We get by without guarantees all our lives – you’ll just have to get used to doing the same.’
The Tiger fixed Kesha with a piercing stare. Then he said: ‘Boy-Prophet – for my own safety, I ought to kill you . . .’
‘I don’t want you to!’ Kesha exclaimed, terrified, and started backing away awkwardly in my direction.
‘All right. That’s what we’ll write: Innokentii Tolkov refused,’ said the Tiger. And he disappeared.
The three of us were left alone together.
‘Has he really gone?’ asked Nadya. ‘What do you think, daddy?’
‘I think . . .’ I said, rubbing my throat and coughing to clear it – the Tiger had almost strangled me as he dragged me out of the Sarcophagus, he didn’t know his own strength – ‘I think any being that has a sense of humour can’t be all bad.’
Nadya sobbed and hugged me even tighter. Kesha hesitated for a second, then walked up and nuzzled against me awkwardly from the other side.
‘Everything’s fine, just fine,’ I said. ‘It’s all over now.’
‘But where’s Arina?’ Nadya asked in a low voice.
‘In the Sarcophagus of Time,’ I replied.
‘Does that mean for ever?’
‘That means that never before has anyone ended up in a Sarcophagus that is impossible to get out of, with a Minoan Sphere that can open portals from absolutely anywhere . . . I don’t know, Nadya. Probably not even the Tiger knows that.’
I myself didn’t know whether what I’d said was really the truth or an attempt to console my daughter.
And I was even less sure if I wanted the ancient witch to make her inconceivable escape from that dungeon. It was basically fine by me if she stayed there until the end of time.
‘Shall I try to open a portal?’ asked Nadya. ‘The Twilight is settling down . . .’
‘In ten minutes and thirty seconds the Great Gesar and Great Zabulon will open a portal to us,’ Kesha suddenly announced. His voice had changed. As often happens with young prophets, the fright had started him prophesying. ‘Next week you will explain your actions at the Inquisition Tribunal in Prague . . .’
‘That much I can figure out for myself,’ I whispered, gazing at the tousled hair on the top of Kesha’s head.
‘You are Anton Gorodetsky,’ the boy continued. ‘You are a Light Other. You are Nadya’s father. Because of you . . . all of us . . . all of us . . .’
I held my breath.
But there was silence
‘Did I say something?’ Kesha asked timidly.
Isn’t that always the way!
Just when you really want to know if you did the right thing or not.
But no one will ever answer that question for you.
Not even the Twilight.
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Epub ISBN: 9781448149834
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Published by William Heinemann, 2013
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Copyright © Sergei Lukyanenko 2012
English translation © Andrew Bromfield 2013
Sergei Lukyanenko has asserted his right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988 to be identified as the author of this work First published in Great Britain in 2013 by William Heinemann
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A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library ISBN 9780434022311
Sergei Lukyanenko, Night Watch 05 - The New Watch
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