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Edgar narrowed his eyes. He opened a bag hanging at his waist, took out a small ivory sphere and handed it to Arina. She took it without saying a word.

‘Help me too, Light One,’ Edgar said. ‘What’s it to you?’

‘You’ve got protective charms draped all over you like garlands on a New Year’s tree. How can I help you?’

‘I’ll help him,’ Arina suddenly said. ‘Don’t you get sidetracked. Do what you’ve got to do.’

I didn’t understand exactly what it was that she did. She seemed just to move her lips. Edgar smiled, and for an instant his face was handsome and almost young. Then his legs buckled and he collapsed onto the cobblestones of the street.

‘But you’re not planning to dematerialise,’ I remarked. ‘What kind of a Light One are you?’

‘Well, one way or another the goal has been achieved now,’ Arina declared. ‘The withdrawn will get what they were longing for!’

I shook my head. Then I looked at the castle and closed my eyes again.

‘I’m returning your phone …’ Arina said. ‘I don’t want anybody else’s things.’

I heard the Minoan Sphere burst quietly behind my back, opening up a portal for Arina, one that would be impossible to trace. Oh, she had been a strange Dark One, and she had turned into a strange Light One.

Suddenly I heard the faint sound of music. Arina had switched on the player built into the phone. By chance?

Or to show that her grasp of technology was a lot better than I thought?

They seem to have left the nigredo like you and I And they walk in the light, knowing nothing. They spit in the mirror and laugh at themselves – yes, They have left the nigredo, knowing nothing. The dark one will be punished, his brow smeared with chalk, The light one will be caught and rolled in soot, But what can you do? Like you and I they seem to have left the nigredo, Knowing nothing. On the capricious hand there are eight lifelines, And so when they meet they maul each other, But what can you do? Like you and I they seem to have left the nigredo, Knowing nothing.[12]

Well now, that’s already a blessing. When you manage to get out of the nigredo, whether you’re a Dark One or a Light One, you have a chance to continue your journey. You can only move on via the nigredo, decay and dissolution. Move on to synthesis. To the creation of the new. To albedo.

The ancient stones on the top of the cliff were waiting.

I reached out to them. No spells, words or rituals were required here. I only had to know what to reach out towards and what to ask for.

Merlin had always left himself a loophole. Even as he was about to set out for the Others’ heaven he had suspected that this stolen heaven might turn out to be hell.

‘Release them,’ I pleaded, without even knowing whom I meant. ‘Release them, please. They have done evil that was evil, and good that turned into evil. But for all things the time comes for forgiveness. Release them …’

The fortress towering over the city seemed to sigh. The birds circling in the sky started moving lower. The dense gloom in the air began to dissipate. The final ray of the setting sun fell on the city in a promise to return with the dawn.

And I felt all the levels of creation shrink together and tremble. I saw the stone idols on the Plateau of Demons in Uzbekistan collapse and crumble, as if it were happening in front of my very eyes. I saw the Others who had withdrawn into the Twilight after dematerialising dissolve into it – with a feeling of relief and tremulous hope.

It became easier to breathe.

‘Daddy, can I look now?’ Nadya asked. ‘Just peep with one eye?’

‘Yes,’ I answered. I squatted down – my legs wouldn’t hold me up any longer. ‘Daddy’s just going to have a little rest, and then we’ll go home … will you take me the short way?’

‘All right,’ Nadya agreed.

‘No, you know what, let’s not take the short road,’ I said, changing my mind abruptly. ‘I don’t really like short roads. Why don’t we fly in an aeroplane?’

‘Hooray!’ Nadya shrieked. ‘In an aeroplane! And will we come back here sometime?’

I looked at her and smiled. Maybe I’d manage to teach her always to be wary of simple answers and short roads.

‘Definitely,’ I said. ‘You didn’t think this was the Last Watch, did you?’

Copyright

Copyright © 2006 Sergei Lukyanenko

English translation copyright © 2008 Andrew Bromfield

Published by arrangement with the Random House Group Ltd.

All rights reserved. The use of any or part of this publication, reproduced, transmitted in any form or by any means electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, or stored in a retrieval system without the prior written consent of the publisher—or, in the case of photocopying or other reprographic copy, a license from the Canadian Copyright Licensing Agency—is an infringement of the copyright law.

Anchor Canada and colophon are trademarks.

Library and Archives Canada Cataloguing in Publication has been applied for.

eISBN: 978-0-307-37366-3

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Published in Canada by

Anchor Canada, a division of

Random House of Canada Limited

Visit Random House of Canada Limited’s website: www.randomhouse.ca

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Translator’s note: Nigredo and Albedo are alchemical terms for ‘Blackness’ and ‘Whiteness’.