“What?”
“Haven’t you read any of those books? Lord of the Rings? Conan? A Wizard of Earthsea? Harry Potter?”
“I’ve read a few,” I said. “Some are a bit naive, but some are interesting. Quite passable as escapist literature, even for us.”
“And it’s far more popular with people than science fiction,” Edgar said confidently. “That’s the paradox, people aren’t interested in reading about settling on Mars or flying to the stars-all the things that people really can achieve, but Others can’t. But they dream about becoming magicians, rushing into battle with a big sharp sword… If only they knew what the wounds from a real sword look like!…What does all this mean? That a medieval world in which magic exists is the one most attractive to people!”
“Well, yes,” I said. “Of course. Because no one thinks about how delightful it is to relieve yourself into a cesspit when it’s twenty degrees below freezing, or the stench those pits give out when it’s ninety degrees in the shade. Because the heroes in the books don’t get head colds, indigestion, appendicitis, or malaria, and if they do, there’s a Light Healer right there on hand. Because everyone sees himself sitting on the throne, wearing a magician’s cloak, or, at the very least, in the retinue of a brave and jolly baron. Not out in a parched field with a wooden hoe in his hands, watching the baron’s retinue ride off after they’ve just trampled his pitiful harvest, half of which belongs to the brave and jolly baron anyway.”
“That’s a different matter,” Edgar said peaceably. “There are pluses and minuses to everything. But there wouldn’t be any advertising, politicians, lawyers, genetically modified food…”
“It’s time you joined Greenpeace. Your world would have lots of children who were jinxed in their mothers’ wombs. And even more perfectly normal children dying during birth because of incorrect presentation or lack of medicines. Edgar, are you really planning to throw the world back into the Middle Ages?”
Edgar sighed.
“No, Anton. That’s a very, very unlikely outcome. I can tell you honestly that’s what I’m hoping for, but the chances aren’t great.”
“I’m thinking very seriously about turning the wheel and crashing into a pillar,” I said. “See that pedestrian bridge over the ring road? It has these very tempting concrete pillars…”
“We wouldn’t be hurt,” Edgar replied. “And I don’t think you would be either. You’ve got a good car: air bags, safety belts…you could survive. Don’t be silly. If you want to kill yourself, try working a bit of magic.”
“What did you dig up in the archives? What are you hoping for?”
“Don’t tell him,” Gennady said morosely. But his words seemed to have the opposite effect from what he intended. After all, Edgar was a primordial Dark One, used to regarding vampires with disdain. Even his allies.
“The Inquisition has always taken a great interest in artifacts that lie out of its reach,” Edgar said. “And particularly in the artifacts created by Merlin…for perfectly understandable reasons. Not much was known about the Crown of All Things. Only that it was in Scotland and was potentially one of the most powerful magical objects in existence. If not the most powerful. But it was believed that no information about the Crown existed. Fortunately, several years ago the Inquisition began compiling a comprehensive catalogue and putting everything in the computer system. This included translating into electronic form the results of medieval interrogations of witches and reports by agents and scholars that had been forgotten by everybody. I searched for everything to do with Merlin and discovered a few lines that had been forgotten for a long, long time. A certain thirteenth-century Light Enchantress, first-level…let’s say that she came into possession of information above and beyond her rank… This enchantress was questioned about a dust-up in Glasgow, which was still a small provincial town at the time. And during the interrogation, she mentioned the ‘last artifact’ created by Merlin. They asked her to say what this artifact did and she replied, to translate literally, ‘The Crown is what all the Others who have left us dream about, what they wait for in the Twilight, what will bring them happiness and restore their freedom.’ Nobody attached any significance to her words at the time, and they just lay in the archives for centuries. Until that sheet of parchment was put into a scanner and I started a search with the key word ‘Merlin.’”
“And I assume that this information is no longer in the Inquisition’s database?” I queried.
Edgar just laughed.
“You want to bring dead Others back to life?”
“Departed,” Gennady hissed. “Departed, but not dead!”
“It’s not that simple,” said Edgar. “We think that the Crown of All Things will fuse the Twilight world and the human world, eliminating the barriers between the levels. At present the departed ones cannot-or cannot effectively-return to our world, and we are not strong enough to stay in the lower levels of the Twilight for any length of time, but the Crown will change all that. Our departed ones will be with us.”
“Edgar, you don’t know anything for certain,” I said. “You can’t know anything. This is nothing but guesswork. What if the different levels really do fuse with our world? That will be a catastrophe!”
“We know that the departed Others want this,” Edgar said firmly.
“All based on a single phrase spoken by an enchantress in the thirteenth century?”
“She was Merlin’s mistress. She knew for certain.”
I didn’t go on arguing.
What could I oppose to their faith? Nothing. Faith can only be opposed by another faith, not by facts, let alone hypotheses.
“Edgar, if I knew definitely that the Crown would bring back the departed Others, then I would help you. But I’m not sure it will.” I turned onto the Leningrad Chaussee. “That’s the first thing.”
“Carry on,” Edgar said politely.
“But even if I wanted to help you, the guard on the artifact in Edinburgh has been strengthened. Everyone knows that you’ll go back in there again. And I think they’ve already figured out what magic you stole from the repository and how much, so your amulets won’t come as a surprise any longer. We won’t get through that easily. That’s the second thing.”
“Believe me, I did a thorough job,” Edgar said proudly. “Right now in the Inquisition they have no idea of what they had, what they didn’t have, and how much is left. The Inquisition is a very highly bureaucratic structure, which is probably the inevitable fate of any supranational organization, whether it’s human or ours. It will be hard, but we’ll get through. Even if you don’t help us…I expect it’s almost impossible to make you kill Light Ones.”
“We should have taken the girl. Then he would have helped us,” Gennady rumbled from behind me.
“Calm down,” Edgar told him. “What kind of monster are you anyway? You should be more humane, Gennady!”
“I was humane when I was alive,” said the vampire. “And I held out until they killed Kostya. And until Polina left me. I can’t take any more!”
“But even so, we have to try to overcome our differences of opinion, since we’re going to be on the same team-for a little while, at least,” Edgar stated reasonably. “Avoid insults, don’t threaten his family…there’s no point. Is that all you have to say, Anton?”
“No, there’s one more little comment. I can’t get through to the seventh level. When I got to the sixth, I was hyped up, the adrenaline was flowing. But the next barrier is too strong for me to break through. And the Watches have also evaluated the strength of the barrier-no input of Power from outside will help.”