Сергей Лукьяненко - Day Watch

"Is it convenient?" I asked quickly, although I didn't have the slightest desire to refuse. Not only because it was a chance to be free of work for two hours, but also because of the attractive camp leader, Igor.

"Of course it is!" said Galina, looking at me in surprise. "Igor comes to Artek every year. He's one of our best leaders. You ought to get to know him too. He's a nice guy, isn't he?"

Her voice had a warm ring to it. It wasn't surprising. I'm not the only one who likes the combination of firm muscles and an intelligent face.

"We'll definitely come," I agreed. "And right away."

–«¦»-

I FOUND MYSELF CHANGING MY CLOTHES WITH UNFAMILIAR HASTE. Where was I going in such a hurry? What for? Just to get to know a guy with a cute face and pumped-up muscles? In two or three days' time any man would be mine-I'd be spoiled for choice! I'm no succubus. I'm an ordinary witch, but I could already enchant a man if I liked him when I was a child and had barely learned to control Power. I only had to wait a little bit longer, and then…

But no, I couldn't wait! I put on my best underwear-far too good for a Pioneer camp leader. It should have been shown off by a model on a catwalk. And the slim silver chain with the diamond pendant, even though no one would realize they were real diamonds and not cheap artificial stones… A drop of Climat perfume behind my ears, a drop on my wrist, a drop on my pubis… was I really serious about trying to seduce him today?

Yes, I was-really serious!

And I even understood why.

I was used to relying on my abilities as an Other, whether they were appropriate or not, even when I could get by making ordinary conversation or simply asking. It would have been strange if it hadn't become a habit. But since I'd been temporarily deprived of my supernatural powers, why not see how I fared without them?

Could I do anything without magic?

Even something as elementary as seducing a man that I liked?

After all, I was young, beautiful, and skillful… there was the sea, a campfire on a summer evening… the pesky children had all gone to bed… surely I could manage it without any magic?

If not, then what was I worth?

I'd promised not to wear the miniskirt, but the shorts that I took out of my bag were even more provocative. I spun round in front of the mirror, examining myself. Not bad. A more revealing blouse would have been better, but there was no point in asking for trouble. This was a Young Pioneer camp, after all, not a normal resort.

I was so absorbed in all my preparations that I even missed the knock on the door. I only turned round when it creaked open and Olechka peeped into my room and started gabbling: "Alisa, we're all ready… oh!" She stared at me with admiration. With such genuine admiration that I didn't even rebuke her for entering the room without permission. "Alisa, how beautiful you are!"

I smiled proudly. It was nothing really-a word of praise from a dowdy little girl who painstakingly decorated her skinny little arms with silly bead trinkets and hung a stone with a hole in it on a string around her thin neck-but even so it was pleasant… Those stones with holes in them again-I was sick to death of them!

"What do you think?" I asked, "Could someone fall in love with me?"

Olechka beamed happily. She dashed over to me, put her arms around me, pressed her face into my stomach and said passionately, "He's bound to fall in love with you! As soon as he sees you he will!"

"It will be our little secret!" I said in a whisper. "All right?"

Olechka began nodding rapidly.

"Run to the girls now, I'll be out in a moment," I said. Olechka gave me one last admiring glance and skipped out of the room.

Okay. Now just a little bit of makeup. When you're in a hurry, everything always goes awry, but…

I touched up my lips quickly with my softest, least-bright lipstick, and my eyelashes with waterproof mascara. For some reason I was sure it had to be waterproof. And that was it. Enough.

I wasn't going to a concert. Just a little Pioneer brigade campfire.

Every one of the summer houses had a campfire site. It was obviously one of the Artek traditions. The impression was spoiled a bit by the fact that the wood for the campfire looked a bit too "official"-it was all neatly cut blocks. I could just imagine the camp leaders turning up at the supply office and writing out a request: "Firewood for the holding of a brigade bonfire to last two hours…"

But this was no joke. I would probably have to organize something of the kind too. Write out a request, bring the wood-or would the workmen deliver it? Never mind, I'd find out later.

Everything was ready: the wood had been heaped up, the boys of the fourth brigade and the girls of the seventh were sitting round it. And space had considerately been left for my charges too. How very thoughtful…

Igor was sitting beside the huge campfire with his boys swarming all over him. He was quietly strumming the strings of a guitar, and I almost groaned out loud when I realized that songs by the Russian "bards" were an integral element of parties like this. What an unfortunate instrument the guitar is! An instrument of such great nobility, a genuine monarch of music-reduced to a pitiful lump of wood with six strings, constantly abused by people with no ear and no voice.

But I would have to put up with it.

It would just be a shame if such an attractive human specimen turned out to be one more singer without any voice or any talent. Oh, and what if he even sang his own songs? That's a real nightmare-when someone who writes bad verse learns three chords, decides that one negative quantity multiplied by another will give a positive result, and becomes a "singer-songwriter." I've seen so many of them. When they start to sing, their eyes glaze over, their voices are filled with mysterious, romantic, manly courage, and it's absolutely impossible to stop them. Like wood grouse in the mating season! The only alternative is popular songs in the garbled renditions that are the best they can manage. Numbers by Victor Tsoi and Kino or the group Alisa… or whatever it is that young people like today.

Anyway, whatever it was, I wasn't going to like it.

When he saw us there, Igor got up to greet us and all my forebodings immediately evaporated. Yes, he was a really handsome man. "Hello." He spoke as if we were already close. "We haven't started, we were waiting for all of you."

"Thank you." I felt myself losing control. My little girls were already sitting down, elbowing the boys aside-they were a little bit wary of the older girls-and I was still standing there like a fool, attracting knowing glances.

"You're a great swimmer," Igor said with a smile.

Aha!

So he had found time to look around on the beach after all.

"Thank you," I said again. What was wrong with me? I was petrified, like some naive, inexperienced girl. I didn't even need to pretend. My anger at myself immediately gave me strength. I sat down on the grass between Olechka and Natasha. My own private little guard, the spy and the adviser… But they had no interest in me right now. They were too excited by the prospect of the campfire.

"Okay, Alyoshka, begin!" Igor said in a jolly voice and threw a box of matches to a thickset boy with blond hair. The boy caught it deftly, then crawled up to the campfire on all fours and sat down with his legs crossed. It was like the preparations for some sacred ritual.

The boy took a match out of the box with meticulous precision, cupped his hands like an inveterate smoker, and struck it. He leaned over toward the fire. It didn't look as if there was any paper there to start the blaze, just pine needles and small chips of wood. Everybody held their breath.