Igor poured vodka into four glasses without speaking. He covered two with slices of bread, set one in front of Anton and took the last one himself.
‘For the guys,’ he said. ‘May the Light show them compassion. For Tiger Cub … for Andriuhka.’
They drank without clinking glasses, and Anton looked at Igor curiously. Igor began coughing and looked at his glass, perplexed.
‘Anton … wait … this vodka’s fake!’
‘Of course,’ Anton confirmed cheerfully. ‘Absolutely genuine fake vodka, pure alcohol diluted with tap water. I chose it specially, you wouldn’t believe how hard it is nowadays to buy fake vodka in the shops.’
‘But why?’ Igor exclaimed.
‘What do you mean, why? Why did I bring you Borodinsky bread? I could have bought a loaf of fresh, tasty black bread in any shop in Prague. And the salami too, and the pork fat. The onions would have been the only problem.’
‘So this is a greeting from the motherland, is it?’ said Igor, still wincing.
‘Precisely.’
‘Oh no, I want to greet my last morning without a headache,’ Igor said seriously. He frowned and passed his hand above the bottle and the two full glasses. The liquid glimmered a lemon-yellow colour for a moment. Igor explained in a slightly guilty voice: ‘I’m allowed to use lower magic.’
‘Then pour another glass.’
‘Are you in some kind of a hurry?’ Igor asked, frowning at Anton as he poured the transformed vodka.
‘No, where would I be going in a hurry?’ Anton replied. ‘I’d rather sit here with you and have a chat. Do you know why I changed the bottle?’
‘So it was you?’
‘Yes, it was me. Semyon brought the right stuff. But I wanted to remind you that a beautiful bottle doesn’t always contain something good.’
Igor sighed and his face went dark:
‘Gorodetsky, don’t moralise with me. I was in the Watch before you were even born. I understand everything. But it’s my own fault, and I’ll take my punishment.’
‘No, you don’t understand anything,’ Anton shouted angrily. ‘You adopt this grand pose of yours: “It’s my fault, I’ll take what’s coming to me”,’ he said, mimicking Igor. ‘But what are we supposed to do? Especially now, without Tiger Cub and Andrei? You know that Gesar’s decided to give the programming girls intensive training?’
‘Oh, come on, Anton. There aren’t any irreplaceable Others. The Moscow Watch has hundreds of magicians and enchantresses in reserve!’
‘Yes, of course. And if we whistle, they’ll come running. Leave their families, drop their jobs and their everyday concerns. They’ll take up arms, of course they will. If the active members of the Watch have disgraced themselves and given up.’
Igor sighed and began speaking abruptly and energetically, almost like the old operational agent:
‘Anton, I understand all this. You’re a bright guy, and you’re doing the right thing now by making me angry. You’re trying to inspire me with the will to live. You’re trying to persuade me to fight. But understand one thing – I really don’t want to fight. I really think I am guilty. I really have decided to … withdraw. Into nothingness, into the Twilight.’
‘Why Igor? I understand that any death is a tragedy especially if it’s your fault, but you couldn’t have fore-seen …’
Igor looked up at him with eyes full of pain and shook his head.
‘No, Antoshka. It’s you who doesn’t understand a single thing. Do you think I’m punishing myself because that kid drowned? No.’
Anton picked up his glass and drained it.
‘I feel sorry for the boy,’ Igor went on. ‘Very sorry. But I’ve seen all sorts of things in my time … there have been times before when people died. And it was my fault. Children, women, old men. Have you ever, for instance, had to decide who to run to first, who to save – an uninitiated Other or an ordinary person? I have. Have you ever had to draw all the power from a crowd – drain it completely? Knowing there’s a ninety per cent probability two people in the crowd won’t be able to bear it and they’ll kill themselves? I have.’
‘I’ve had to do a few things too, Igor.’
‘Yes, I understand. That hurricane … Then why are you talking such nonsense? Can’t you believe it’s not all about that unfortunate kid? That I fell in love with a Dark One?’
‘I can’t,’ said Anton. ‘I just can’t! Gesar said that too, but …’
‘You’d better believe Gesar,’ Igor said with a bitter smile. ‘I love her, Anton. I still love her, even now. And I’ll go on loving her – that’s the real tragedy.’
He picked up his glass.
‘Thanks at least for not setting a glass out for her on the table.’ Anton could feel the fury beginning to seethe inside him. ‘Thanks …’
He broke off and followed Igor’s glance to a glass-fronted cupboard. Inside, among the other glasses, was one half filled with vodka and covered with a stale piece of bread.
‘You’ve lost your mind,’ Anton muttered. ‘Completely lost your mind. Remember, Igor – she’s a witch.’
‘She was a witch,’ Igor agreed with a faint, sad smile.
‘She provoked you … okay, she didn’t enchant you, but she still made you fall in love with her.’
‘No. She fell in love herself. And she didn’t have the slightest idea who I was.’
‘Okay Let’s accept that, you ought to know. But even so, it was provocation. By Zabulon, who knew everything that was happening.’
Igor nodded.
‘Yes, very probably. I’ve thought about that a lot, Anton. That fight in Butovo was obviously well prepared in advance by the Dark Ones. At the very highest level, just Zabulon and another one or two of them. Lemesheva probably knew. Edgar and the witches didn’t.’
He didn’t even think it worth mentioning the vampires and shape-shifters.
‘Well, if you agree …’ Anton began.
‘Wait. Yes, it was a deliberately planned operation. One of Zabulon’s intrigues. And a successful one.’ Igor lowered his head. ‘Only what difference does that make to the way I feel about Alisa?’
Anton felt like swearing angrily. So he did, and then he said:
‘Igor, you’ve looked at Alisa Donnikova’s file. You must have looked at it.’
‘Yes.’
‘So you must understand how much blood she has on her hands. How much Evil she has done. I’ve clashed with her myself several times. She’s been responsible for ruining our operations, she … she served Zabulon loyally.’
‘You forgot to add that she was Zabulon’s broad,’ Igor said in a dull, lifeless voice. ‘That the head of Moscow’s Dark Ones had sex with her in his Twilight form, that she took part in covens with human sacrifices and sex orgies. Why don’t you say it? Say it, I know it all anyway. Gesar gave me the full file … he tried really hard. I know all that.’
‘And you still love her?’ Anton asked incredulously.
Igor raised his head, and they looked into each other’s eyes. Then Igor reached out and gently touched Anton’s hand.
‘Don’t be angry with me, brother Light One. Don’t despise me. And if you can’t understand, you’d better go. Take a walk around Prague.’
‘I’m trying to understand,’ Anton whispered. ‘Honestly, I’m trying. Alisa Donnikova was a perfectly ordinary witch. No better and no worse than all the rest. A clever, beautiful, cruel witch. Who left Evil and pain in her wake wherever she went. How can you love her?’
‘She was different with me,’ Igor replied. ‘A nervous and unhappy girl who really wanted to love someone. Who had fallen in love for the first time. A girl who, unfortunately for us, the Dark Ones spotted before we did. And for her initiation they chose a moment when there was more Dark in her soul than Light. That’s not too difficult with teenage girls – you know yourself. And after that it was all very simple. The Twilight drained all the goodness out of her. The Twilight turned her into what she became.’