Pasha looked at Lena. She shrugged. Then he looked at Petya. He nodded.
‘This vessel contains grief and sadness, Gorodetsky,’ said Pasha. ‘You should know that if you wish to drink from it.’
‘We know how to awaken the prophecy,’ Lena confirmed. ‘It is simple.’
‘But we will not tell you that,’ Petya said in conclusion. ‘We do not wish to be responsible for the possible consequences.’
They all got up together and moved towards the door. Petya went out first and stood in the corridor, holding the door open, then Lena followed. Pasha lingered for a moment and gave me a look of either fellow feeling or compassion.
‘In Europe it is usually thought that always and everywhere there are at least two paths to follow, and one of them is good. In Asia we know that there might not be any paths at all, or there might be a countless number. But that does not mean that even one of them will prove to be good.’
‘I live in Russia, I replied. ‘That is not Europe, and it is not Asia. We have no paths at all, only directions, but that has never disconcerted us.’
Pasha raised one eyebrow, pondering my words. Then he smiled, nodded and went out.
Petya closed the door behind him.
I slipped off the bathrobe and dressed hurriedly, and a minute later I was knocking at the door of the adjacent room. It opened with a click, although Arina was standing at the window, looking out at Taipei.
‘Did you have any visitors?’ I asked.
‘They just left,’ Arina answered, without turning round. ‘Pasha, Lena and Petya. Fourth-, First- and Second-Level. Light Ones.’
‘How amusing – they were in my room as well,’ I said. ‘And they just left, too.’
‘Childish tricks,’ Arina remarked scornfully, ‘I expect we even had identical conversations.’
‘Probably,’ I agreed. ‘Didn’t they try to arrest you?’
‘I explained that it was pointless,’ Arina replied. ‘But they could see that for themselves, anyway. Well, then – shall we go to see Fan?’
‘ “I’ll take you to the museum, my sister told me,” ’ I murmured, quoting Mayakovsky. ‘Why be in such a hurry? I’d rather have a decent meal, catch up on my sleep and have the meeting tomorrow.’
‘All right,’ Arina agreed readily. ‘There are several good restaurants right here in the hotel. Or we could go out into town. I told you that you won’t get poisoned here, didn’t I?
‘Yes, you did,’ I replied. ‘Are you feeling sad about something?’
Arina looked at me and then turned back to the window.
‘Time, Anton, time … I look at how the city has changed, and I realise how I’ve changed myself. An old crone who looks young – strong, healthy, immortal – but an old crone.’
‘I’m sorry,’ I said. ‘Why is it like that for you witches? If an Other is even Fifth-Level, he can keep his body young …’
‘We’re witches,’ Arina replied, as if that was an explanation. She paused for a moment and then added anyway: ‘The way we absorb our Power is a bit different. We draw it from the earth, the wind, the rivers … nature doesn’t know how to be eternally young, Anton. Nature was ancient when people were still no different from animals. Mountains grow old and crumble, rivers change their courses, earth is carried away by the wind … We’re the same. Theoretically probably immortal – like all Others. But we grow old, although slowly. It’s very hard to take, charm-weaver … I can recall drinking sweet plum wine and kissing my lover – one of the thousands I’ve had – in this city. But I was still young then. And the city was different. And life seemed brighter.’
‘But has the city really got worse?’
‘Not even Moscow has got worse, although it’s been trying hard enough in recent years,’ Arina snorted. ‘No, it’s not worse, just unfamiliar. And that’s what makes my old heart ache.’
I felt awkward, as if I’d glanced through a keyhole and seen something that wasn’t intended for my eyes at all.
‘Come on, let’s go and try those Chinese delicacies,’ Arina said, rousing herself and turning away from the window. ‘After that I intend to visit the spa, but I don’t suppose you’ll be keeping me company?’
‘I think not,’ I agreed.
‘Quite sure? They offer a discount for a party of two,’ Arina laughed. ‘A jacuzzi with a view of the city at night, a massage, aromatic oils …’
‘ “Be gone, you libertine, your caress is repugnant,” ’ I declaimed, modifying Kozma Prutkov’s verse slightly. And immediately I realised just how inappropriate it was in this case.
‘That’s not it, Anton:
‘I’m sorry,’ I muttered.
‘It’s all right,’ Arina laughed. ‘I’m not some old Greek woman, I’m a genuine Russian. An old woman, yes, but with my own teeth – note that for the record! And I won’t argue with the conclusion either:
‘Arina, please accept my apologies.’
Arina chuckled again.
‘Forget it. And thanks for reminding me of Volodya …’
‘What Volodya?’
‘Well, not Putin, obviously. Volodya Zhemchuzhnikov, the poet …’
‘One of the four authors who were “Kozma Prutkov”?’ I asked, gazing at Arina’s dreamy smile. ‘Did you have an affair with him, then?’
‘I don’t tell anecdotes about famous and historical individuals,’ Arina snapped. ‘I was brought up better than that. I could tell you about a certain count, without giving you his name – what a joker he was! He once came to visit me in a carriage, absolutely naked and carrying an absolutely immense bouquet of white roses. Well, he wasn’t shy of his own driver, naturally enough, and I lived in a secluded spot. He walked straight in without being announced – and his wife was sitting there with me: she’d come to complain about her husband’s debauchery …’
‘I’m certain that could not have been a pure coincidence,’ I remarked in a quiet voice.
‘Well then, what did the joker come up with, once he grasped just how embarrassing the situation was?’ Arina went on. ‘He threw the bouquet down at his wife’s feet and, without so much as a glance at me, flung himself on her like some wild beast. And he shouted: “What have you done to me? You have bewitched me! At the mere thought of you, I tore my clothes off in the carriage!” And the stupid fool believed him. She pulled a ring with a magnificent ruby off her finger, put it in my hand and whispered: “Thank you, enchantress!” Then she bundled her husband up in the tablecloth and dragged him off home. And wouldn’t you know, the next day he sent me a matching bracelet to go with the ring … he didn’t show up himself, the great stud.’
Arina stopped talking, pleased with her story.
‘You’ve convinced me yet again that Witches view the world from a highly original perspective,’ I said.
‘Not Witches, but women, and not the world, but men,’ Arina laughed. ‘All right, let’s go. I won’t try to seduce you, especially since you have a spell on you that your wife put there …’