Well, well. Faithful devotees of the chicken god! Maybe someone in Artek had a special job – producing stones with holes in them? Some drunk who never shaved, sitting in a workshop somewhere, drilling holes in stones all day long and scattering them on the beach in the evening to delight all the kids.
If not, an opportunity had clearly been missed!
Igor appeared to be enjoying himself as much as the kids. He sang the song enthusiastically except that … all the enthusiasm was for the children. Igor was amusing them. But he really felt nothing for the song one way or the other.
I relaxed.
At the very least he liked the look of me.
And I liked the look of him too.
Igor sang another couple of songs. Then Galina took over the guitar and coerced it into playing – the instrument resisted as hard as it could, flatly refusing to produce any normal sounds, but Galina still sang ‘Let’s all hold hands, my friends’ and yet another young pioneer song. Even the boy from the fourth brigade who was barely strong enough to hold down the metal strings played better than she did.
Then Igor clapped his hands.
‘All right! Now we’ll put the fire out and go for supper!’
They brought two buckets of water from somewhere and he began dousing the glowing embers.
I stood there for a while, following his sparse, precise movements. Igor looked as if he’d spent his entire life putting out campfires. Probably he did every thing like that – playing the guitar, and putting out fires, and working on his computer, and caressing a woman. Precisely, conscientiously. Reliably. Satisfaction guaranteed.
Hot white steam billowed up from the hot embers. The children scattered in all directions. Then suddenly, still dousing the fire, Igor asked:
‘Do you like swimming at night, Alisa?’
I shivered.
‘Yes.’
‘So do I. By one o’clock, the children will have settled down and I’ll go to the beach for a swim, where we were this morning. Come along if you like.’
For just a moment I lost my head. It was a feeling I’d completely forgotten! Instead of me hitting on a man, he was hitting on me.
Igor splashed the remains of the water onto the campfire and looked at me. He smiled.
‘I’d be really glad if you could come. Only … don’t get the wrong idea.’
‘I think I’ve got the right idea,’ I replied.
‘Will you come?’
I really wanted to say no. Just to provoke him. But it would have been stupid, after all, to give up my own pleasure for the sake of one little gibe.
‘Probably,’ I said.
‘I’ll be waiting,’ Igor replied calmly. ‘Shall we go? A glass of ryazhenka before bed is very good for tired camp leaders. It guarantees sound, healthy sleep.’
His smile was wonderful.
In Artek ‘lights out’ comes at half past ten.
The bugles sounded solemnly in the loudspeakers and a gentle woman’s voice wished everyone goodnight. I was standing in front of the mirror, looking at my reflection and trying to figure out what was happening to me?
Had I fallen in love?
No, that was impossible. I loved Zabulon. I loved the greatest Dark Magician in Moscow. One of the few individuals who really controlled the fate of the world. And what was an ordinary human being, compared to him? Even if he was attractive, even if he had a fine figure, even with that idiotic reliability that simply oozed out of him with every move he made. He was an ordinary male of the human species. With the ordinary little thoughts of human males. Pretty good for a holiday romance, but nothing more than that.
I couldn’t really fall in love with him!
The mobile in my bag rang and I started. Mum? Unlikely, she was terribly careful with money and never rang me on my mobile.
I took it out and accepted the call.
‘Hello, Alisa.’
Zabulon’s voice sounded tired. Affectionate and tired, as if he’d barely been able to find the strength to make the call, but really felt he had to.
‘Hello,’ I whispered.
‘You’re feeling anxious, I can sense it. What’s happened to you, my little girl?’
There’s no way to hide anything from him. Zabulon knows everything … at least, everything he wants to know.
‘I’m thinking about taking a friend for the month,’ I sighed into the phone.
‘Well, what of it?’ Zabulon sounded puzzled. ‘Alisa, I’m not jealous of your dog, and I’m not going to be jealous of some little man who amuses you either.’
‘I haven’t got a dog,’ I said miserably.
Zabulon laughed, and all my stupid thoughts just seemed to evaporate.
‘All right then! I’m not bothered if you have a dog or you don’t. I’m not bothered if you have a human lover. Calm down, my little one. Relax. Recover your strength. Amuse yourself any way you like. Debauch the whole of Artek, including all the young pioneers and the old plumbers if you like. My little fool …’
‘I’m behaving like a human being, aren’t I?’ I suddenly felt ashamed.
‘It’s nothing to worry about. It won’t last long, Alisa. Build up your strength … only …’ Zabulon paused for a moment. ‘Never mind. It’s nothing.’
‘No, tell me!’ I tensed up again.
‘I have faith in your common sense,’ Zabulon said and hesitated. ‘Alisa, just don’t get carried away, all right? Your holiday is strictly governed by the terms of the old Treaty between the Watches. You don’t have the right to take a lot of power. Only small amounts. Don’t turn into some crude energy vampire, you’re on holiday, not out hunting. If you overstep the mark, we’ll lose this resort for ever.’
‘I understand,’ I said.
How long was that blunder with the Prism of Power going to keep coming back to haunt me?
I didn’t start pouring out promises or swearing by the Dark and my own Power. Promises mean nothing, the Dark doesn’t bother itself with petty details, and I had no power right then. I simply promised myself that I wouldn’t overstep the defined boundaries for anything, I wouldn’t let down Zabulon and the entire Day Watch.
‘Then have a good holiday my little girl.’ I thought I caught a hint of sadness in Zabulon’s voice. ‘Have a good holiday.’
‘Couldn’t you come? Just for a short while?’ I asked hopelessly.
‘No. I’m very busy Alisa. I’m afraid we won’t be able to talk for the next three or four days. But don’t you worry. What good is a tedious old miscreant obsessed with global problems as a partner for a young witch on holiday?’
He laughed.
We generally tried not to say things like that on the phone, especially on mobiles, because they listen to all of them and record everything. It all sounded like a flippant conversation … But what if some ordinary little human being picked up the thread and started following it? Then we would have to waste time and energy on him.
‘I love you,’ I whispered. ‘Thank you.’
‘Good luck, my little one,’ Zabulon said affectionately. ‘I kiss you.’
I switched off the phone and smiled to myself.
Well then, everything was all right. So where had that stupid feeling of alarm come from? And where had I got the crazy idea that I was in love with Igor? Love was something different, love was pure delight, a fountain of emotions, sensual pleasures and enjoying spending time together. But what I was feeling, this strange, timid alarm, was only the consequence of my illness. It just felt odd to associate with a man without having any idea of how to control him. I couldn’t threaten him with a pistol, like those half-witted bandits.