How much time did I have before the hunt picked up my trail? Would the boss be able to slow them down?
That would be good. Because I thought I was beginning to understand what was going on here.
And I had a chance, only a tiny one maybe, but still a chance.
I set off toward the metro, taking the cell phone out of Olga's purse on the way. I started dialing her number, then swore, and dialed my own.
It rang five times, six, seven.
I canceled the call and dialed my cell phone number. This time Olga answered right away.
«Hello?» said a slightly hoarse, unfamiliar voice. My voice.
«It's me, Anton,» I shouted. A young guy walking past looked at me in surprise.
«You dimwit!»
I wouldn't have expected anything else from Olga.
«Where are you, Anton?»
«Getting ready to go underground.»
«You'll have plenty of time for that. What can I do to help?»
«Are you up to speed on the situation?»
«Yes, I'm maintaining parallel contact with Boris.»
«I need to get my body back.»
«Where can we meet?»
I thought for a moment.
«The station where I got out after I tried to detach that black vortex from Svetlana.»
«Got you. Boris told me about that. Make it three stations farther around the circle, up and to the left.»
Aha, she was counting off stations on the map of the metro.
«Yes, that's okay.»
«In the middle of the hall. I'll be there in twenty minutes.»
«Okay.»
«Want me to bring you anything?»
«Just bring me. Anything else is up to you.»
I folded away the cell phone, took another quick look around, and walked quickly into the station.
Chapter 4
I was standing in the center of Novoslobodskaya Station. It's a common enough scene there when it's not that late: a girl waiting, maybe for a guy, maybe for a girlfriend.
In my case, I was waiting for both.
It would be harder to find me underground than on the surface. Even the best Dark Ones wouldn't be able to pick up my aura through the layers of earth, through all the ancient graves that Moscow stood on, among the crowd, in that dense, agitated stream of people. Of course, combing all the stations wouldn't be too hard either: Just one Other with my image for each station would do it.
But I was hoping I still had an hour or half an hour before the Day Watch made that move.
How simple everything was, after all. How elegantly the pieces of the puzzle fit together. I shook my head and smiled, and immediately caught a young guy dressed punk-style looking at me inquisitively. No, my young friend, you're on the wrong track. This sexy body is only smiling at its own thoughts.
I ought to have got the picture the moment the plotlines all started converging on me. The boss was right, of course. I wasn't valuable enough. They wouldn't have come up with a dangerous and costly maneuver lasting years just for my sake. It was all about something else, something completely different.
They were trying to exploit our weaknesses. Our goodness and love. And it was working, or almost working.
I suddenly felt like I needed a cigarette really badly; my mouth even filled up with saliva. Strange, I'd never really smoked much; it had to be a reaction from Olga's body I imagined her a hundred years earlier—an elegant dame with a slim cigarette in a long holder, sitting in some literary salon somewhere with Blok or Gumilev. Smiling as she discussed the Freemasons, the sovereignty of the people, and the urge toward spiritual perfection.
Ah, here was someone at last!
«Have you got a cigarette?» I asked a young guy walking past—he was dressed well enough not to smoke cheap garbage like Golden Yava.
He gave me a surprised look, then held out a pack of Parliaments.
I took a cigarette, thanked him with a smile, and cast a mild spell over myself. People's eyes slid off to the side.
That was better.
I concentrated, raising the temperature of the tip of the cigarette to two hundred degrees, and inhaled. So we'd wait. And we'd break a few little unquestionable rules.
People flowed past, giving me a wide berth, about a meter. They sniffed the air in surprise, wondering where the smell of tobacco smoke was coming from. And I smoked, dropping the ash at my feet, eyeing the militiaman standing just five steps away and trying to figure out my chances.
They turned out to be not that bad. Pretty good, in fact. And that bothered me.
If they'd been preparing this maneuver for three years, one option they must have taken into account was that I'd see through it. They must have an answer for that—but what was it?
It took me a second or two to register the surprised look. And when I realized who was watching me, I started in surprise.
Egor.
The kid, the Other with weak powers who'd got caught up in the big fight between the two Watches six months ago. Played for a patsy by both sides. An open card that still hadn't been dealt. But players don't fight over cards like that.
His powers were strong enough to penetrate my casual cover, and the meeting itself didn't really come as a surprise. There are many chance events in the world, but apart from that, there's also something called predetermination.
«Hi, Egor,» I said without even pausing to think. I expanded the range of the spell to include him in the circle of non-attention.
He started and looked around. Then he started staring at me. Of course, he hadn't seen Olga in human form. Only as a white owl.
«Who are you and how do you know me?»
Yes, he'd grown. Not on the outside, on the inside. I couldn't understand how he could have avoided making his choice for so long and still not joined the side of Light or the side of Darkness. He'd already entered the Twilight, in circumstances that meant he could have gone either way. But his aura was still as pure and neutral as ever.
His destiny was his own. It must be good to have your own destiny.
«I'm Anton Gorodetsky, the Night Watch agent,» I said simply. «Remember me?»
Of course he remembered me.
«But…«
»•Take no notice. It's a disguise; we can swap bodies.»
I wondered for a moment if I ought to think back to the course on illusion and temporarily restore my usual appearance. But there was no need—he believed me. Maybe because he remembered the boss's body swap.
«What do you want from me?»
«Nothing, I'm just waiting for a friend, the girl this body belongs to. You just happened to meet me here by chance.»
«I hate your Watches!»
«If you say so. But I really haven't been trailing you. You can go if you want.»
The kid found that far harder to believe than the idea of swapping bodies. He looked around suspiciously and frowned.
Of course, it was hard for him to leave. He'd touched the secret and sensed powers that went beyond the human world. And he'd renounced those powers, at least for the time being.
But I could imagine how much he wanted to learn—at least just a few little things, stuff like conjuring tricks with pyrokinesis and telekinesis, suggestion, healing, cursing—I didn't know what exactly, but he must have wanted to know how to do these things, not just know about them.
«You really haven't been trailing me?» he finally asked.
«No, I haven't. And we can't lie—not directly.»
«How do I know that isn't a lie too?» the kid muttered, looking away. A logical question.
«You don't,» I agreed. «Believe it if you want to.»
«I'd like to,» he said, still looking down at the floor. «But I remember what happened up there on the roof. I dream about it at night.»