'You know, I think he is. She's all tensed up somehow, just can't let go and relax. And she's got big things ahead of her, not like you and me.'

'You tried your best, did you?'

'What kind of question's that?' said Ignat, offended. 'Come round some time, it'd be good to see you.'

The gin had turned warm, the ice in the glass had melted. I shook my head and put the glass down.

Gesar, you can't foresee everything.

But to fight you – not in a duel of magic, that would just be ridiculous – to fight you in the only arena where I have a chance, in words and actions, I have to know what you want. I have to know how the cards lie in the deck. And what you're holding in your hand.

Who were the players?

Gesar, the originator and organiser. Olga, his lover and consultant, a sorceress punished for some crime. Svetlana, who had to complete the mission and was being prepared with great care. Me, one of the instruments of her education. Ignat, Tiger Cub, Semyon and all the other Light Ones could be left out of my calculations. They were instruments too, but only secondary ones. And I couldn't count on them for support.

The Dark Ones?

Naturally they were involved, but not in any obvious way. Zabulon and his henchmen were concerned about Svetlana's appearance in our camp. They couldn't do anything openly right now. But they could try to sabotage things on the sly or prepare a crushing blow that would bring the Watches to the brink of war.

What else?

The Inquisition?

I drummed my fingers on the armrest of the lounger.

The Inquisition. The structure that oversees the Watches. It reviews disputes and punishes those who violate the Treaty – from either side. It is always vigilant. It collects data on every one of us. But it only intervenes in extremely rare cases and its strength lies more in secrecy than in battle. When the Inquisition considers a case involving a powerful magician, it drafts in fighters from both Watches.

But the Inquisition was involved somehow. I knew the boss. He squeezed the last drop from every opportunity. And the recent business with Maxim, the Maverick Other, the Light One who had gone to work for the Inquisition, was a good example. The boss had made use of the incident to train Svetlana and teach her the lessons of self-control and intrigue, but at the same time he'd discovered a new Inquisitor.

I wished I knew what they were preparing Svetlana for.

So far I was groping in the dark. And the worst thing of all was that the gulf between me and Sveta was getting wider and wider.

I put on the earphones and closed my eyes.

Tonight the fern will unfold its miraculous flower,

Tonight the spirits will come back home,

Clouds from the north, wind from the west,

Soon the enchantress will wave her hand to me.

I live waiting for a miracle, like a Mauser in its holster,

Like a spider in its web,

Like a tree in the desert,

Like a black fox in its hole.

I was taking a risk, a serious risk. Great Magicians become great by trampling over their own kind, but even they don't dare go against their own. Isolated individuals don't survive.

I was running through the telescopes, away from the frightened eyes of children,

I wanted to sleep with a mermaid, but I didn't know how to act with her,

I wanted to turn into a streetcar and drive through your window.

The wind blows from the borderlands, we don't care any more,

The wind blows from the borderlands, we don't care any more.

Be my shadow, my squeaking stair, my bright-coloured Sunday, my sunshine with rain,

Be my god, my birch-tree sap, my electric current, my bent rifle.

I can bear witness that you are the wind, you blow in my face and I laugh,

I do not wish to leave you without a battle, since you dream of me.

Be my shadow . . .

I felt a hand on my shoulder.

'Good morning, Sveta,' I said and opened my eyes.

She was wearing shorts over a swimsuit. Her hair was wet and neat. She must have taken a shower. While I, being a filthy pig, hadn't even thought of taking one.

'How are you after yesterday?' she asked.

'Okay. And you?'

'All right,' she said and turned away.

I waited. With Spleen playing in my earphones.

'What were you expecting from me?' Sveta asked sharply. 'I'm a normal, healthy young woman. I haven't had a man since last winter. I realise you've got it into your head that Gesar threw us together, like mating horses, so you're just being stubborn.'

'I wasn't expecting anything.'

'Then I'm sorry you got a surprise!'

'Did you sense me in the room? When you woke up?'

'Yes.' Svetlana awkwardly pulled a packet of cigarettes out of her pocket and lit one. 'I'm tired. Maybe I am still only learning, and not working yet, but I'm tired. And I came here to relax.'

'You were the one who started talking about everyone faking a good time . . .'

'And you were only too happy to agree.'

'True.' I nodded.

'And then you went off to knock back vodka and organise conspiracies.'

'What conspiracies?'

'Against Gesar. And against me, by the way. How absurd! Even I sensed it! Don't get the idea you're some Great Magician who can—'

She stopped short. But too late.

'I'm not a Great Magician,' I said. 'I'm third grade. Maybe second, but no higher than that. We all have limits of our own that we can't go beyond, not even if we live for a thousand years.'

'I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend you,' Svetlana said, embarrassed. She lowered the hand holding the cigarette.

'Forget it. I've got nothing to be offended at. Do you know why the Dark Ones form families from their own kind so often, and we prefer to choose our wives and husbands from among ordinary people? The Dark Ones find it easier to cope with inequality and constant competition.'

'A human being and an Other – that's even more unequal.'

'That doesn't count. We're two different species. That means nothing counts.'

'I want you to know,' said Svetlana, taking a deep drag on her cigarette, 'that I wasn't intending to let things go so far. I was waiting for you to come down and see us and get jealous.'

'I'm sorry, I didn't know I was supposed to get jealous.'

'And then everything just went crazy and I couldn't help myself

'I understand everything, Sveta. It's okay.'

She looked at me in confusion.

'Okay?'

'Of course, it happens to everyone. The Watch is one big, tight-knit family. With everything that follows from that.'

'What a bastard you are!' Svetlana exclaimed. 'Anton, if only you could see yourself now from the outside! How did you ever end up on our side?'

'Sveta, you came to make up, didn't you?' I asked. 'So I'm making up. It's all okay. Nothing counts. That's life, all sorts of things happen.'

She jumped to her feet and glared icily at me for a second. I started blinking rapidly.

'You idiot!' Svetlana blurted out and went back into the house.

So what had she been expecting? Hurt feelings, accusations, sadness?

But more importantly, what had Gesar been expecting? What would change if I stopped playing the role of Sveta's ill-starred lover? Would someone else take on the role? Or was it already time for her to be left alone – all alone with her great destiny?

The goal. I had to know what Gesar's goal was.

I sprang up off the lounger and walked into the house. I immediately spotted Olga, alone in the sitting room. Standing in front of the open display case, holding out a sword with a long, narrow blade in front of her. She wasn't looking at it the way you look at an antique toy. Tiger Cub probably looked at her swords in the same kind of way. But her love of old weapons was in the abstract; Olga's wasn't.

When Gesar came to live and work in Russia – because of her, by the way – swords like that might still have been in use.

But eighty years ago, when Olga had been deprived of all her rights, wars were already fought differently.

A former Great Sorceress. A former Great Goal. Eighty years.

'It's all so well planned, isn't it?' I said.

Olga started and swung round.

'We can't defeat the Dark ourselves. The little people have to be enlightened first. Become kind and loving, industrious and intelligent. So that every Other can see nothing but the Light. What a great goal it was, how long the ripples lasted when it was drowned in blood.'

'You figured it out after all,' said Olga. 'Or did you just guess?'

'I guessed.'

'Good. Now what?'

'How did you slip up, Olga?'

'I accepted a compromise. A little compromise with the Dark. And the result was that we lost.'

'We did? We'll always survive. Adapt, fit in, find our place. And we'll carry on the old struggle. It's only humans who lose.'

'Retreats are inevitable sometimes,' said Olga, gripping the double-handed sword easily in one hand and swinging it above her head. 'Do I look like a helicopter with its rotors idling?'

'You look like a woman waving a sword around. Do we really never learn anything, Olga?'

'Sure we do. This time everything's going to be different, Anton.'

'A new revolution?'

'We didn't want the last one. It was all supposed to happen almost completely without bloodshed. You understand: we can only win through ordinary humans. When they become enlightened, when their spirit is raised up. Communism was a wonderfully well-calculated system, and it's all my fault that it wasn't realised.'

'So why aren't you in the Twilight already, if it's all your fault?'

'Because everything had been agreed. Every step approved. Even that disastrous compromise, even that seemed acceptable.'

'And now – a new attempt to change people?'

'One more in the series.'

'Why here?' I asked. 'Why in Russia again?'

'Why not?'

'How much more of this does our country have to put up with?'

'As much as it takes.'

'Come on – why here again?'

Olga sighed, deftly slipped the sword back into its scabbard and put it back on its stand.