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minds."
I didn't say anything. I didn't have anything to say.
"Our stupid mistake," Ilya concluded. "And a combination of unforeseen circumstances with fatal consequences.
Nobody had even initiated the kid... How could anyone know he could enter the Twilight?"
"I knew."
Maybe it was my memories that did it, or maybe I was just frightened by our terrible speed as the car raced along
the highway, but I looked into the Twilight.
People are so lucky that they can't see this-ever! And so unlucky that they will never be able to see it!
A high, gray sky, where there have never been any stars, a sky as glutinous as milk jelly, glowing with a ghastly,
wan light. The outlines of everything have softened and dissolved-the buildings, covered with a carpet of blue
moss, and the trees, with branches that sway regardless of which way the wind's blowing, and the streetlamps,
with the twilight birds circling above them, barely moving their short wings. The cars coming toward you move
really slowly, the people walking along the street are hardly even moving their feet. Everything seen through a
gray light filter, everything heard through plugs of cotton wool in your ears. A silent, black and white movie, an
eerie, elegant director's cut. The world from which we draw our strength. The world that drinks our life. The
Twilight. Whoever you really are when you enter it, that's who you are when you come out. The gray gloom will
dissolve the shell that has been growing over you all your life, extract the tiny core that people call the soul and
test its quality.
And that's when you'll feel yourself crunching in the jaws of the Twilight; you'll feel the chilly, piercing wind, as
corrosive as snake venom... and you'll become one of the Others.
And choose which side to take.
"Is the boy still in the Twilight?" I asked.
"They're all in the Twilight..." said Ilya, diving in there after me. "Anton, why didn't you tell them?"
"It never occurred to me. I didn't think it was that important. I'm not a field operative, Ilya."
He shook his head.
We find it impossible, or almost impossible, to reproach each other, especially when someone's really messed
up. There's no need; our punishment is always there, all around us. The Twilight gives us more strength than
human beings can ever have; it gives us a life that is almost immortal in human terms. And it also takes it all
away when the time comes.
In one sense we all live on borrowed time. Not just the vampires and werewolves who have to kill in order to
prolong their strange existence. The Dark Ones can't afford to do good. And we can't afford the opposite.
"If I don't pull this off..." I didn't finish. Everything was already clear anyway.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Chapter 8
Seen through the Twilight it actually looked beautiful. Up on the roof, the flat roof of that absurd "house on stilts," I
could see different-colored patches of light. The only things that have any color in there are our emotions. And
there were plenty of those around.
The brightest of all was the column of crimson flame that pierced the sky-the vampire's fear and fury.
"She's powerful," Semyon said simply, glancing up at the roof and kicking the car door shut. He sighed and
started taking off his coat.
"What are you doing?" I asked.
"I'll go up the wall... over the balconies. I advise you to do the same, Ilya. Only you go in the Twilight; it's easier."
"And how are you going?"
"The ordinary way. There's less chance she'll notice. And don't you two worry... I was climbing mountains for
sixty years. I took the fascist flag down from Mount Elbrus."
Semyon stripped to his shirt, throwing his clothes onto the hood of the car. They were followed by a swift
protective spell covering his threads and the fancy wheels.
"Are you sure?" I inquired.
Semyon laughed, jiggled about, did a few squats, and swung his arms around like an athlete warming up. Then
Page 59
he trotted across to the building, with the fine snow settling on his shoulders.
"Will he make it?" I asked Ilya. I knew how to climb the wall of a building in the Twilight. In theory. But an ascent
in the ordinary world, and with no equipment...
"He ought to," said Ilya, but he didn't really sound convinced. "When he swam through the underground channel
of the river Yauza... I didn't think he'd make it then, either."
"Thirty years practicing underwater swimming," I said gloomily.
"Forty... I'll get going then, Anton. How are you going up, in the elevator?"
"Yup."
"Okay... don't keep us waiting."
He shifted into the Twilight and ran after Semyon. They were probably going to climb different walls, but I didn't
really want to know who was going which way. My route was waiting for me, and it wasn't likely to prove any
easier.
"Why did you ever have to meet me, boss..." I whispered as I ran up to the entrance. The snow crunched under
my feet; the blood pounded in my ears. I took my pistol out of its holster on the run and took the safety catch off.
Eight explosive silver bullets. That ought to be enough, as long as I hit the target. I just had to spot the moment
when I had a chance to take the vampire by surprise and not wing the boy.
"Sooner or later someone would have met you, Anton. If not us, then the Day Watch. And they had just as good
a chance of taking you."
I wasn't surprised he was keeping tabs on me. First, this was a serious business. And second, after all, he was
my first mentor.
"Boris Ignatievich, if anything happens..." I buttoned up my jacket and stuck the barrel of the pistol into my belt
behind my back. "About Svetlana..."
"They ran an exhaustive check on her mother, Anton. No. She's not capable of casting a curse. No powers at
all."
"No, that wasn't what I meant, Boris Ignatievich... I just had this thought. I didn't pity her."
"And what does that mean?"
"I don't know. But I didn't pity her. I didn't pay her any compliments. I didn't make any excuses for her."
"I understand."
"And now... disappear, please. This is my job."
"Okay. I'm sorry for turning you out into the field. Good luck, Anton."
I couldn't remember the boss ever apologizing to anyone before. But I had no time to be surprised; the elevator
had finally arrived.
I pressed the button for the top floor and automatically reached for the little button-earphones. Strange, there was
music coming through them. When had I turned on the Walkman?
And what trick will chance play me
All will be decided later, for some he is no one,
For me he is my lord,
I stand in the darkness, for some I am a shadow,
For others I am invisible
I love Picnic. I wonder if Shklyarsky's ever been tested to see if he's an Other. He ought to be... But then, maybe
not. Let him keep singing.
I dance out of time, I've done everything wrong,
Not regretting the fact
That today I'm like a shower that never fell,
A flower that never blossomed.
I, I, I-I am invisible.
I, I, I-I am invisible.
Our faces are like smoke, our faces are smoke
And no one will learn how we conquer...
Maybe I could take that last line as a good omen?
The elevator stopped.
I jumped out onto the top-floor landing and looked up at the trapdoor in the ceiling. The lock had been torn off,
quite literally-the shackle was flattened and stretched. The vampire wouldn't have needed to do that; she'd
probably flown to the roof. The boy had climbed up over the balconies.
So it must have been Tiger Cub or Bear. Most likely Bear; Tiger Cub would have broken the trapdoor out.
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