Сергей Лукьяненко - Day Watch

In the deathly silence the doors of the elevator began to close. But Yukha Mustajoki suddenly stepped forward and stuck his foot between them, just where the sensor was. The doors reluctantly parted again.

"I'd like to thank the Night Watch of Moscow," he said unexpectedly. He was obviously agitated, but trying to maintain his dignity. "It was very humane."

"What was?" asked Anton.

"To spare Pasi Ollikainen. We… we appreciate the fact that he's still alive."

"Where is he?" exclaimed Anton.

"Downstairs… in the bar…" said Yukha, gaping in surprise at the two Light magicians.

"Four horses…" Igor said in a hollow voice. "Four horses. Four horses!"

Mustajoki staggered back rapidly and exchanged puzzled glances with his comrades.

The Light magicians were left alone.

"It all fits," said Igor, turning to Anton. "You see? Everything!"

"Hang on…"

Anton concentrated, remembering the movements. He raised his right hand, made a pass in front of Igor's face, then pulled his hand sharply downward and back up again, curving his fingers and cupping his hand.

"Damn you…" Igor groaned in a choking voice and went dashing for his suite. Anton followed him slowly. He looked at Igor's hunched-over back through the open door of the toilet and reached out to him through the Twilight. Igor began groaning.

The sobering-up spell isn't very complicated, but it's not very pleasant for the person it's cast on.

Two minutes later Igor came out of the bathroom. With his hair wet, his eyes sunk into his head and looking as pale as death.

"A pale horse…" Anton muttered. "Okay… Now you do it to me."

Igor eagerly made the passes, and then Anton leaned down over the toilet bowl. A few minutes later, after he'd washed his face and drunk some nasty-tasting water from the tap (the thirst had hit him immediately), he walked back into the room. Igor was already clearing away the remains of their drinking session. He looked at Anton and said mockingly, "A black horse…"

Anton went over to the refrigerator, took out several bottles of mineral water, pulled the top off one, and collapsed into a chair.

Igor took a second bottle from him. They drank water for a while in blissful silence. Then Igor admitted guiltily, "Yes… we got plastered."

"Toy horses!" said Anton. He smashed his fist down on the table and swore. "No, it's shameful, the nonsense we thought up."

"It all seemed very logical somehow," Igor said in an embarrassed voice. "Those damned Brothers… so the fourth one's alive too."

"He must be," Anton said with a shrug. "All I knew was that Gesar went after him in the Twilight and caught up with him…"

"Well, of course… why would he want to kill a suspect? He handed him over to the Inquisition. Probably right there in the Twilight. Anton, maybe we were right after all?"

"Are you still a bit tipsy?" Anton asked.

"No, I'm totally sober now… damn, I can't even get drunk properly! Yes, it's all nonsense. Zabulon wouldn't try to drag some ancient magician back out of the Twilight. What good would that do him? And as for staging the end of the world, creating an Antichrist…"

"And anyway, Fafnir wouldn't do for the job," Anton said. "He's not up to it. Wouldn't even come close."

"So all that stuff we came up with is nonsense?"

Anton looked at the sheet of paper, with its grease spots from salami and wet rings from their glasses. When had they managed to mess it up? He thought they'd been very careful.

"I'm afraid the bit about Svetlana isn't nonsense. But as for all the rest… Why did we get so excited over the number eighty-eight? What's so mystical about that?"

"It's kind of smooth and rounded, it reads the same in both directions…" Igor waved his hand through the air and burst into laughter. "Yes, you're right. It's drunken nonsense."

Anton picked up a felt-tip pen that had fallen on the floor and crossed out the circle with "Regin Brothers" written inside it. He said:

"They're not in the game. It looks like they completed their mission by charging the Mirror with Power. This is what we should be interested in, Igor…"

Igor looked at the circle with his own name in it. He sighed.

"I'd be glad to believe in my own special mission. To think I'd done something to really upset Zabulon and the Day Watch. But…" He spread his hands helplessly.

"Igor, you're the key," said Anton. "Do you understand? If we can understand why Zabulon is trying to get rid of you in order to fight Svetlana, then we'll win. If we can't, then the game's his."

"There's Gesar too. And from what I hear, he's coming this morning."

"We'd better try to manage without him," said Anton, sensing the note of irritation in his own voice. "His decisions are too… too global."

Edgar poured himself some more flat champagne, took a swallow, grimaced, and thought wryly: Only aristocrats and degenerates drink champagne in the morning. And you, my dear fellow, don't look much like an aristocrat …

The old watchman's habit of thinking all the time, in any situation, had not abandoned Edgar even during his nocturnal amusements. Last night Edgar had carried on thinking about what the leaders of the Moscow Watches were planning for this Christmas… but that hadn't prevented him from enjoying what he was doing.

Right, then , Edgar thought. What have we got… We need to sort everything out neatly. Right down to the final detail .

What could Zabulon squeeze out of the present situation? Edgar needed to construct a mental model of his chief.

A Tribunal that had drawn in forces from both Watches. Not the most important ones, but by no means the lowest either. Two magicians, both from the top ten. Edgar and Anton. There would be observers too. There was no doubt about that. And there was no doubt that during the actual session of the Tribunal neither side would make any moves-they would be haggling to extract some advantage for themselves from the indifferent and unbiased Inquisition.

But was it indifferent? Edgar had no doubts about its being unbiased. He'd lived a long time as an Other, and never, not even once had he had even the shadow of a doubt concerning the actions of the Inquisition. The servants of the Treaty had always been cool and decisive. Someone had once said that the Inquisition didn't judge who was in the right and who was in the wrong, but who had violated the Treaty. That was the essential world view of any Inquisitor. Edgar had matured enough to understand that, but he still didn't understand what it was that made the Inquisition act that way and not any other.

He wondered if the Higher Magicians understood it. Gesar and Zabulon.

So, the Tribunal. The Light magician Igor Teplov could either be acquitted (which was not desirable) or found guilty. In the first case, the Night Watch would keep a third-level magician who was temporarily unfit for combat, but still powerful and, more important, highly experienced. Edgar had come up against Teplov before that battle in South Butovo, although only in passing, immediately after the war in the memorable operation Ashes of Belozersk. Back then the Moscow and Tallinn watches had operated in the most surprising places, such as the Vologda region. They didn't have enough men… Or rather, Others. The Dark Ones and the Light Ones were both short of numbers.

The other option was that the Night Watch would lose the magician forever. The question was: So what? Igor Teplov was not who he seemed to be. Or rather, there was something about him that was only obvious to top-flight magicians. All in all, it looked very much as if Zabulon was stubbornly and consistently aiming at two goals in the enemy's camp: Igor Teplov and Svetlana Nazarova. And in doing that he had been quite willing to sacrifice his own love, Alisa. Edgar still hadn't made out any logical connection between the battle in Butovo, the duel at the Artek camp, and the rather confused events that had accompanied the Dark Mirror's visit. But for him it was enough to sense very clearly that there was one. There was definitely a single thread running through all these battles and intrigues, connecting them all together, and it led straight back into Zabulon's hand.