And there was a black vortex slowly taking shape above Mum’s head. A curse directed at someone specific, still weak, still on the level of ‘I hope that job of yours drives you crazy, you ungrateful creature!’ – but it was a mother’s curse, and they’re especially powerful and tenacious.
Oh no, my dear mother!
Thanks to your efforts Dad had a heart attack at thirty-seven and three years ago I barely managed to save him from another … at a cost that I don’t even want to remember. And now you’ve set your sights on me?
I reached out through the Twilight as hard as I could, so hard I got a stabbing pain under my shoulder blades, and grabbed hold of Mum’s mind – it twitched and then froze.
Okay … now this is what we’ll do …
I broke into a sweat, although it’s always cool in the Twilight. I wasted energy that would have been useful at work. But a moment later Mum no longer remembered that she’d been speaking to me. And more generally she was pleased that I was such a hard worker, that I was appreciated and liked at work, that I went out when it was barely light and didn’t come back until after midnight.
Sorted.
Probably the effect would only be temporary; after all, I didn’t want to delve too deep into Mum’s mind. But at least I could count on a couple of months of peace and quiet. And so could my dad; I’m my dad’s daughter – I love him much more than I do my mum. It’s only kids who can’t tell you who they love more, their mum or their dad; adults have no problem answering the question …
When I was done, I removed the half-formed black vortex, and it drifted out through the walls, looking for someone else to attach itself to. I took a breath and cast a critical eye round the hall.
It hadn’t been cleaned for a long time. The blue moss had crept back over everything again, and it was thickest of all round our door. That was only to be expected; with Mum’s hysterical fits there was always something for it to feed on. When I was little I used to think the Light Ones planted the moss to annoy us. Then I was told that the blue moss is native to the Twilight, a parasite that lives on human emotions.
‘Ice!’ I commanded, flinging out my hand. The cold obediently gathered at my fingertips and ran across the walls like a stiff brush. Frozen needles of moss dropped to the floor, decaying instantly.
Take that!
That will teach you to go feeding on people’s petty little thoughts!
That’s real power, the power of an Other.
I emerged from the Twilight – in the human world less than two seconds had gone by – and straightened my hair. My forehead was damp, I had to take out my handkerchief and blot the sweat away. And of course, when I looked in my mirror I could see that my mascara was smudged.
I had no time to fuss over how I looked. I just threw on a light veil of attractiveness that would prevent any human being from noticing the faults in my make-up. We call them ‘paranjahs’, and everybody likes to tease Others who wear them, but we all do anyway. When we’re short of time or we need to be absolutely sure of making a good impression, or sometimes just for fun. There’s a pretty young witch from Pskov who can’t really do anything right except throw on a paranjah, and she’s been working as a model for three years. She makes her living from it. The only trouble is that the spell doesn’t work in photographs or on video, so she has to keep turning down all the offers she gets to work in advertising …
Everything was against me today. The lift didn’t come for ages, and the other one’s been out of order for a long time now; and on my way out of the lobby I ran into Vitalik, the young guy who lives above us. When he saw me in my paranjah, he just froze with a stupid smile on his face. He’s been in love with me since he was thirteen – stupidly, hopelessly, silently in love. To be honest, it’s all because of my sloppy work. I was learning the love spell and decided to practise on our neighbours’ little boy since he took every chance he could get to ogle me while I was sitting on the balcony, sunbathing in my bikini. Well … I practised. And I missed out the limiting factors. So he fell in love for ever. When he doesn’t see me for a long time, it all seems to pass off, but it only takes one sight of me, and it all starts up again. He’ll never be happy in love.
‘Vitalik, I’m in a hurry,’ I said, smiling at him.
But he just stood there, blocking the doorway. Then he decided to pay me a compliment.
‘Alisa, you look really beautiful today …’
‘Thanks.’ I gently moved him aside and felt him tremble when my hand touched his shoulder. He’ll probably remember that touch for a week …
‘I’ve passed my last exam, Alisa!’ he said quickly, talking to my back. ‘That’s it, I’m a student now!’
I turned and took a closer look at him.
Was this boy who still used anti-pimple lotion getting crazy ideas into his head? Was he hoping that now he’d got into college and launched into ‘adult life’ he could have aspirations?
‘Skiving out of the army?’ I asked. ‘Men today have no balls. They’re all wimps. They don’t want to do their time and get a bit of experience, and then go and study.’
His smile was slowly fading. It was a wonderful sight!
‘Ciao, Vitalik,’ I said and skipped out into the sweltering heat of summer. But my mood was a bit better now.
These little lovesick pups are always fun to watch. They’re boring to flirt with and actually having sex with them is disgusting, but just watching them is pure pleasure. I ought to give him a kiss some time …
But anyway a moment later I’d entirely forgotten my lovesick neighbour. I stuck out my hand. The first car drove straight past – the driver looked at me with greedy longing in his eyes, but his wife was sitting beside him. The next car stopped.
‘I’m going into the centre,’ I said, leaning down towards the window. ‘Manege Square.’
‘Get in,’ said the driver, reaching across and opening the door. He was an educated-looking man with dark hair, about forty. ‘How could I refuse such a good-looking girl a lift?’
I slipped into the front seat of the old Zhiguli 9 and turned the window all the way down. The breeze hit me in the face – that was some relief at least.
‘You’d have got there quicker on the metro,’ the driver warned me honestly.
‘I don’t like the metro.’
The driver nodded. I liked him – he wasn’t staring too brazenly, even though I’d obviously overdone things with the paranjah, and the car was well cared for. And he had quite beautiful hands. They were strong, and their grip on the wheel was gentle but firm.
What a shame I was in a hurry.
‘Are you late for work?’ the driver asked. He spoke very politely, but in a manner that was somehow personal and intimate. Maybe I ought to give him my number? I’m a free girl now, I can do what I like.
‘Yes.’
‘I wonder, what kind of jobs do such beautiful girls do?’ It wasn’t even an attempt to strike up an acquaintance or a compliment, it was genuine curiosity.
‘I don’t know about the others, but I work as a witch.’
He laughed.
‘It’s a job like any other …’ I took out my cigarettes and my lighter. The driver gave me a fleeting glance of disapproval, so I didn’t bother to ask. I just lit up.
‘And what are a witch’s duties?’
We turned off onto Rusakov Street and the driver accelerated. Maybe I was going to be on time after all?
‘It varies,’ I replied evasively. ‘But basically we oppose the forces of Light.’
The driver seemed to have accepted the rules of the game, although it wasn’t really a game at all.
‘So you’re on the side of the Shadow?’