The Night Watch (11 page)

In order to lock a door in the Twilight, you had to know at least how to enter it.

"Fear," said Olga. "Yesterday the boy was in a state of terror. And he'd just been in the Twilight world. He locked the door behind him… and without knowing it, he locked it in both worlds at the same time."

"Come deeper. Follow me."

I looked at my shoulder—there was no one there. Summoning the Twilight while you're in the Twilight is no simple trick. I had to raise my shadow from the floor several times before it acquired volume and hung there, quivering in front of me.

"Come on, come on, you're doing fine," whispered Olga.

I entered the shadow, and the Twilight grew thicker. Space was filled with a dense fog. Colors disappeared completely. The only sound left was the beating of my heart, slow and heavy, rumbling like a drum being beaten at the bottom of a ravine. And there was a whistling wind—that was the air seeping into my lungs, slowly stretching out the bronchi. The white owl appeared on my shoulder.

"I won't be able to stand this for long," I whispered, opening the door. At this level, of course, it wasn't locked.

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A dark-gray cat flitted past my feet. For cats there is no ordinary world or Twilight—they live in all the worlds at once. It's a good thing they don't have any real intelligence.

"Kss-kss-kss," I whispered. "Don't be afraid, puss…" Mostly to test my own powers, I locked the door behind me. There, kid, now you're protected a little bit better. But will it do any good when you hear the Call?

"Move up," said Olga. "You're losing strength very fast. This level of the Twilight is a strain even for an experienced magician. I think I'll move up a level too."

It was a relief to step out of it. No, I'm not an operational agent who can stroll around all three levels of the Twilight just as he likes. But I don't really need to do that kind of thing. The world turned a little bit brighter. I glanced around. It was a cozy apartment, not much polluted by the products of the Twilight world. A few streaks of blue moss beside the door… nothing to worry about, they'd die, now that the main colony had been exterminated. I heard sounds too, from the direction of the kitchen. I glanced in.

The boy was standing by the table, eating garlic and washing it down with hot tea.

"Light and Darkness," I whispered.

The kid looked even younger and more helpless than the day before, thin and awkward, but you couldn't call him weak; he obviously played sports. He was wearing faded blue jeans and a blue sweatshirt.

"The poor soul," I said.

"Very touching," Olga agreed. "It was a very clever move by the vampires to spread that rumor about the magical properties of garlic. They say it was Bram Stoker himself who thought it up…" The boy spat into his hand and started rubbing garlic onto his neck.

"Garlic's good for you," I said.

"Yes. It protects you. Against flu viruses," Olga added. "Oh, how easily the truth is lost, and how persistent lies are… But the boy really is strong. The Night Watch could do with another agent."

"But is he ours?"

"He's not anyone's yet. His destiny's still not been determined; you can see for yourself."

"But which way does he lean?"

"There's no way to tell, not yet. He's too frightened. Right now he'd do absolutely anything to escape from the vampires. He's ready to turn to the Dark or the Light."

"I can't blame him for that."

"No, of course. Come on."

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The owl fluttered into the air and flew along the corridor. I walked after it. We were moving three times faster than human beings now: One of the fundamental features of the Twilight is the way it affects the passage of time.

"We'll wait here," Olga announced, when we were in the living room. "It's warm, light, and cozy." I sat in a soft armchair beside a low table and squinted at the newspaper lying there. There's nothing more amusing than reading the press through the Twilight.

"Profits on Loans Are Down," said the headline.

In the real world the phrase was different: "Tension Mounts in theCaucasus ." I could pick up the newspaper now and read the truth. The real truth. What the journalist was thinking when he wrote about the subject he was covering. Those crumbs of information that he'd received from unofficial sources. The truth about life and the truth about death.

Only what for?

I'd stopped giving a damn about the human world a long time ago. It's our basis. Our cradle. But we are Others. We walk through closed doors and we maintain the balance of Good and Evil. There are pitifully few of us, and we can't reproduce—it doesn't follow that a magician's daughter automatically becomes an enchantress, and a werewolf's son won't necessarily be able to change his form on moonlit nights. We're not obliged to like the ordinary, everyday world.

We only guard it because we're its parasites.

I hate parasites!

"What are you thinking about now?" asked Olga. The boy appeared in the living room. He dashed across into the bedroom—very quickly, bearing in mind that he was in the everyday world. He started rummaging in the wardrobe.

"Nothing much. Just feeling sad."

"It happens. During the first few years it happens to everyone." Olga's voice sounded completely human now. "Then you get used to it."

"That's what I'm feeling sad about."

"You should be glad we're still alive. At the beginning of the twentieth century the population of Others fell to a critical threshold. Did you know there were debates about uniting the Dark Ones and the Light Ones? That programs of eugenics were developed?"

"Yes, I know."

"Science came close to killing us off. They didn't believe in us; they wouldn't believe. That is, while they still believed science could change the world for the better."

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The boy came back into the living room. He sat down on the couch and started adjusting the silver chain around his neck.

"What is better?" I asked. "We were people once, but we've learned to enter the Twilight; we've learned to change the nature of things and other people. And what's changed, Olga?"

"At least vampires don't hunt without a license."

"Tell that to the person whose blood they drink…"

The cat appeared in the doorway and fixed his gaze on us. He howled, glaring angrily at the owl.

"It's you he doesn't like, Olga," I said. "Move deeper into the Twilight."

"Too late," Olga replied. "Sorry, I let my guard down." The boy sprang up off the couch, far faster than is possible in the human world. Clumsily, without even knowing what was happening to him, he entered his shadow and immediately fell on the floor, looking up at me. Through the Twilight.

"I'm leaving…" the owl whispered as she disappeared. Her claws dug painfully into my shoulder.

"No!" shouted the boy. "I know! I know! You're here!" I started to get up, spreading my hands.

"I can see you! Don't touch me!"

He was in the Twilight. He'd done it, just like that. Without any help from anyone, without any curses or stimulants, without any magician to tutor him, the boy had crossed the boundary between the ordinary and the Twilight worlds.

The way you first enter the Twilight, what you see and what you feel there, goes a long way to determine who you'll become.

A Dark One or a Light One. Olga's voice in my head:

"We have no right to let him go over to the Dark Side; the balance inMoscow would completely
collapse."

Okay, kid, you're right on the very edge.

That was more terrifying than any inexperienced vampire.

Boris Ignatievich was entitled to have the boy taken out.

"Don't be afraid," I said, not moving from the spot. "Don't be afraid. I'm your friend and I won't do you any harm."

The boy crawled as far as the corner and froze there, never once taking his eyes off me. He clearly
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didn't understand that he'd shifted into the Twilight. It looked to him as if the room had suddenly turned dark, a sudden silence had fallen, and I'd appeared out of nowhere…

"Don't be afraid," I repeated. "My name's Anton. What's your name?" He didn't say anything. He kept gulping, over and over again. Then he pressed his hand against his neck, felt for the chain, and seemed to calm down a bit.

"I'm not a vampire," I said.

"Who are you?" the boy yelled. It was a good thing that piercing shriek couldn't be heard in the everyday world.

"Anton. A Night Watch agent."

His eyes opened wide, as if he were in pain.

"It's my job to protect people against vampires and all sorts of vermin."

"You're lying…"

"Why?"

He shrugged. Good. He was trying to assess his actions so far and explain his reasons. That meant the fear hadn't completely paralyzed his mind.

"What's your name?" I asked again. I could have influenced the boy and removed his fear. But that would have been an intervention, and a forbidden one.

"Egor…"

"A good name. My name's Anton. Do you understand? I'm Anton Sergeevich Gorodetsky. A Night Watch agent. Yesterday I killed a vampire who was attacking you."

"Just one?"

Excellent. Now we had the makings of a conversation.

"Yes. The girl-vampire got away. They're searching for her now. Don't be afraid, I'm here to guard you… to destroy the vampire."

"Why is everything so gray?" Egor suddenly asked.

Good boy. That's really good thinking.

"I'll explain. Only first let's agree that I'm not your enemy. All right?"

"We'll see."

He held on to his absurd little chain, as if it could save him from anything. Oh, kid, if only everything in this world were that easy. Silver won't save you, or poplar wood, or the holy cross. It's life against death,
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love against hate… and power against power, because power has no moral categories. That's how simple it is. In the last couple of years I've come to realize that.

"Egor," I said, walking slowly across to him. "Listen, I want to tell you something."

"Stop!"

He shouted the command as sharply as if he were holding a weapon in his hands. I sighed and stopped.

"All right. Now listen. Apart from the ordinary world that the human eye can see, there is also a shadow world, the Twilight world."

He thought. Despite his fear—and he was terribly afraid, I could feel the waves of his suffocating horror washing over me—the boy was trying to understand. There are some people who are paralyzed by fear. And there are some it only makes stronger.

I was really hoping he would be one of the second kind.

"A parallel world?"

There, now he was bringing in science fiction. But never mind, it didn't matter. Names are nothing more than sounds.

"Yes, and only people with supernatural powers can enter that world."

"Vampires?"

"Not only. There are werewolves, witches, black magicians… white magicians, healers, seers."

"And they all really exist?"

He was soaking wet. His hair was clumped together; his sweatshirt was clinging to his body; beads of sweat were rolling down his cheeks. But still the boy never took his eyes off me and was getting ready to thwart me. As if he really had the power to do it.

"Yes, Egor. Sometimes people appear who can enter the Twilight world. They take the side of either Good or Evil. Light or Darkness. They are the Others. That's what we call each other, the Others."

"Are you an Other?"

"Yes, and so are you."

"Why?"

"You're in the Twilight world right now, kid. Take a look around, listen. All the colors have turned gray. The sounds have faded away. The second hand on the clock is barely creeping along. You entered the Twilight world… you wanted to see the danger and you crossed the boundary between worlds. Time moves more slowly here, everything is different here. This is the world of the Others."

"I don't believe it." Egor glanced around quickly, then looked back at me. "Then why's Gray here?"
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"The cat?" I smiled. "Animals follow their own laws, Egor. Cats live in all the dimensions at once; for them there is no difference."

"I don't believe you." His voice was trembling. "It's all a dream, I know! When the light fades like that…

I'm asleep. It's happened to me before."

"So you've had dreams about turning on the light and the bulb not lighting up?" I already knew the answer, and anyway I could read it in the boy's eyes. "Or it lights up, but only very, very faintly, like a candle? And you're walking along with the Darkness swaying all around you, and you hold out your hand and you can't even make out your own fingers?"

He didn't answer.

"That happens to all of us, Egor. Every Other has dreams like that. It's the Twilight world creeping into us, calling us, reminding us about itself. You are an Other. Still a young one, but you are. And you're the only one…"

I didn't realize immediately that his eyes were closed and his head was slumped to one side.

"You idiot," Olga hissed from my shoulder. "This is the first time he's entered the Twilight independently!

He hasn't got the strength for this! Pull him out quickly, or he'll stay here forever!" Twilight coma is a novice's problem. I'd almost forgotten about it, because I'd never worked with young Others.

"Egor!" I leapt across and shook him, grabbing him under the shoulders. He was light, very light—it's not only the movement of time that changes in the Twilight world. "Wake up!" The boy didn't respond. He'd already done what it takes others months of training to do—entered the Twilight on his own. And the Twilight world just loves to suck the strength out of you.

"Pull him out!" said Olga, taking command of the situation. "He won't wake up himself." I'd done the emergency rescue courses, but I'd never had to drag anyone out of the Twilight for real.

"Egor, snap out of it!" I slapped him on the cheeks. Gently at first, then I started putting real force into it.

"Come on, kid. You're slipping away into the Twilight world! Wake up!" He was getting lighter and lighter, melting away in my arms. The Twilight was drinking his life, sucking out his final ounces of strength. The Twilight was changing his body, claiming it as permanent resident. What had I done?