But there wasn’t anyone chasing us.
Nobody could have called our return triumphant.
The vampires took Olga’s body and set off to headquarters with it without saying a word, as if even they understood the full tragedy of the situation. But then why shouldn’t they understand? They had exchanged life for non-life, but they could still think and feel, and theoretically they could carry on like that for all eternity. But now Olga was gone for ever.
Deniska drove the minibus away to the car park. Edgar took the rescued witch firmly by the arm and led her towards the Watch building. She didn’t resist. We brought up the rear of the procession.
Carrying a body along a crowded street in the centre of Moscow, close to the walls of the Kremlin, is not the most relaxing of occupations, even with the spell of inattention that Lemesheva had pronounced again. People didn’t look at us, they just quickened their step and walked round the procession. But the Twilight became agitated.
The fabric of existence is woven too fine here. There’s too much blood, too many emotions, the traces of the past are too clearly evident. There are places like that, where the boundary between the human world and the Twilight is almost imperceptible, and the centre of Moscow is one of them.
If I’d been in a fit state, I would have seen the surges of power emerging from the depths of a different reality. Probably even Zabulon couldn’t explain exactly what stands behind them. All that we could do was not react, pay no attention to the greedy breathing of the Twilight that had sensed the death of a witch in magical combat.
‘Faster!’ Lemesheva said, and the vampires quickened their stride. The Twilight must have become seriously agitated.
Only I couldn’t tell any longer.
We went in by the door that was invisible to human beings, and Lena had to take me and Zhanna through. Our colleagues were already running towards us. The witch, who had started yelling again, was dragged off to the tenth floor, to the interrogation room. Olga was handed directly to magicians from the department of healing – without the slightest hope of being able to help, but the fact of death had to be registered. One of the healers on duty examined us carefully. He shook his head disapprovingly as he assessed Zhanna’s condition and frowned when he looked at the wounded vampires. But when he turned his attention to me, his face simply froze.
‘Is it really that bad?’ I asked.
‘That’s putting it mildly,’ he said without superfluous sentimentality. ‘Alisa, what were you thinking of when you gave out your power?’
‘I was acting according to instructions,’ I answered, feeling my tears welling up again. ‘Edgar would have been killed – he was up against two second-grade magicians!’
The healer nodded:
‘Very praiseworthy zeal, Alisa. But the price is very high too.’
Edgar was already hurrying towards the lift, but he stopped and gave me a look of sympathy. Then he came over to me and kissed the palm of my hand. These Baltic types are always making themselves out to be Victorian gentlemen.
‘Alisa, my most profound gratitude! I could sense that you were giving everything you had. I was afraid that you would go the same way as Olga.’
He turned to the healer.
‘Karl Lvovich, what can be done for this brave girl?’
‘I’m afraid nothing can be done,’ the healer said with a shrug. ‘Alisa was drawing power from her own soul. It’s like acute dystrophy, if you see what I mean. When the body doesn’t have enough food, it starts digesting itself. It destroys the liver, the muscles, the stomach – anything to maintain the brain until the very last. Our girls found themselves in a similar situation. Zhanna seems to have lost consciousness in time and stopped drawing on her last reserves. Alisa and Olga held out to the end, but Olga’s inner resources were not so great and she died. Alisa survived, but her mental reserves have been completely exhausted.’
Edgar gave a sympathetic nod and everyone else listened to the doctor with interest as he continued with his florid rhetoric.
‘The special abilities of an Other are similar in some ways to any other energy reaction – take a nuclear reaction, for instance. We maintain our abilities by drawing power from the world around us, from humans and other less complex objects. But in order to begin receiving power, first you have to invest some of your own – such is the cruel law of nature. And Alisa has practically none of that initial power left. Simply pumping in power is no help in this case, just as a piece of heavily salted pork fat or an overcooked, crispy steak won’t save someone who’s starving to death. The body can’t digest that kind of food – in fact, it will kill, not cure. It’s the same thing with Alisa – we could pump energy into her, but she would choke on it.’
‘Could you please not talk about me in the third person?’ I asked. ‘And not in that tone of voice!’
‘I’m sorry, my girl.’ Karl Lvovich sighed. ‘But what I’m saying is the truth.’
Edgar gently released my hand and said:
‘Alisa, don’t take it too much to heart. Perhaps the boss will think of something. And by the way, talking of steaks … I’m starving.’
Lemesheva nodded:
‘Let’s go to some little bistro.’
‘Wait for me, okay?’ said Zhanna. ‘I’ll just have a shower, I’m drenched in sweat …’
I didn’t even have enough strength left to feel horrified. I stood there like a fool, listening to their conversation, trying to sense anything at all as an Other. To see my real shadow, to summon the Twilight, to feel the emotional background …
There was nothing.
And they seemed to have forgotten about me already.
If it had been Zhanna or Lenka in my place, I would have behaved exactly the same way After all, there’s no point in hanging yourself just because someone else got careless, is there? Did anyone ask me to give everything, right down to the limit? No, it was my fault for trying to be a hero!
It was all because of Semyon and Tiger Cub. When I realised who we were up against, I decided to take my revenge. To prove something … to someone … for some reason …
Now what was I going to do? I’d proved it, all right, and I’d been crippled. And far more badly than in the fight with Tiger Cub.
‘Just be quick, Zhanna,’ said Lemesheva. ‘Alisa, are you coming with us?’
I turned towards her, but before I could say anything, someone spoke behind me:
‘Nobody’s going anywhere.’
Lemesheva’s eyes opened wide and I shuddered as I recognised the voice.
Zabulon was standing by the lift.
He was in his human form: skinny and sad-looking, rather preoccupied. Many of our people only know him like that – calm and unhurried, even a little boring.
But I know another Zabulon too. Not the restrained head of the Day Watch, not the mighty warrior in demonic form, not the Dark Magician beyond classification, but a cheerful, inexhaustibly inventive Other. Simply an Other, without any sense of the gulf between us, as if there were no difference in age, experience or power.
That’s the way it used to be. Before …
‘I want everyone in my office,’ Zabulon ordered. ‘Immediately.’
He disappeared – into the Twilight probably. But before that he rested his glance on me for a brief moment. There was no expression at all in his eyes. No mockery or sympathy or affection.
But he did look at me, and my heart stood still. For the last year Zabulon had seemed not even to notice the unfortunate witch Alisa Donnikova.
‘So much for bistros and showers,’ Lemesheva said dourly. ‘Come on, girls.’