The Twilight Watch:

  'No.' Arina shook her head. 'They didn't miscalculate. Of course, the blood would have flowed in rivers. But what came at the end of it all wouldn't have been too bad. Far better than all the regimes we have now . . . The Light Ones overlooked something else. If things had gone that way, then round about now people would have learned that the Others existed.'

  'I see,' said Svetlana. Nadiushka was squirming restlessly on her knees – bored of sitting, she wanted to go to the 'wolfie'.

  'That's why the . . . unidentified Light One . . .' – Arina smiled – 'who had the wits to calculate the future more thoroughly than all the rest, came to me. We met a few times and discussed the situation. The problem was that the experiment had been planned not just by Higher Others, who could appreciate the danger of our being exposed, but also by a large number of first- and second-grade magicians . . . even some third- and fourth-grade ones. The project was extremely popular . . . in order to cancel it officially, full information would have had to be given to thousands of Others. There was no way that could be done.'

  'I understand,' said Svetlana.

  But I didn't understand a thing!

  We conceal our existence from people because we're afraid. There are too few of us, and no magic is strong enough to guarantee our survival if a new campaign of 'witch hunts' begins. But in this wonderful, benign future that Arina said could already have happened would we really have been in any danger?

  'That's why we decided to sabotage the experiment,' Arina continued. 'It increased the numbers killed in the Second World War, but reduced the numbers who died in the export of revolution to Europe and Northern Africa. It came out more or less even . . . of course, now life in Russia isn't as sweet and easy as it should have been. But who ever said that happiness is measured by a full stomach?'

  'Oh sure!' I exclaimed, unable to restrain myself. 'Any teacher in a town on the Volga or miner in Ukraine will agree with you there.'

  'Happiness should be sought in spiritual wealth!' Arina rebuked me. 'And not in baths filled with bubbles, or a heated privy. And at least people don't know about the Others!'

  I held my tongue. The woman in front of us was not simply guilty – she ought to have been dragged to the tribunal on a rope and stoned along the way! A city on the moon? Okay, if we didn't have a city on the moon, we could do without it. But even our ordinary cities were barely alive, and the entire world was still wary of us . . .

  'Poor thing,' said Svetlana. 'Did you suffer a lot?'

  At first I thought she was mocking Arina.

  The witch thought the same.

  'Are you sympathising or scoffing?' she asked.

  'Sympathising,' Svetlana answered.

  'I don't feel sorry for the little people, don't get the wrong idea,' the witch hissed. 'But I do feel sorry for the country. It's my country, whatever it's like, all of it! But things turned out for the best. We'll carry on living, we won't die out. People will give birth to new people, they'll build cities and plough the fields.'

  '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.

  EPILOGUE

  MY 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.'