‘Egor,’ I said, walking slowly across to him. ‘Listen, I want to tell you something.’
‘Stop!’
He shouted the command as sharply as if he were holding a weapon in his hands. I sighed and stopped.
‘All right. Now listen. Apart from the ordinary world that the human eye can see, there is also a shadow world, the Twilight world.’
He thought. Despite his fear – and he was terribly afraid, I could feel the waves of his suffocating horror washing over me – the boy was trying to understand. There are some people who are paralysed by fear. And there are some whom it only makes stronger.
I was really hoping he would be one of the second kind.
‘A parallel world?’
There, now he was bringing in science fiction. But never mind, it didn’t matter. Names are nothing more than sounds.
‘Yes, and only people with supernatural powers can enter that world.’
‘Vampires?’
‘Not only. There are werewolves, witches, black magicians … white magicians, healers, seers.’
‘And they all really exist?’
He was soaking wet. His hair was clumped together, his sweatshirt was clinging to his body, beads of sweat were rolling down his cheeks. But still the boy never took his eyes off me and was getting ready to repulse me. As if he really had the power to do it.
‘Yes, Egor. Some people can enter the Twilight world. They take the side of either Good or Evil. Light or Dark. They are the Others. That’s what we call each other, the Others.’
‘Are you an Other?’
‘Yes, and so are you.’
‘Why?’
‘You’re in the Twilight world right now. Take a look around, listen. All the colours have turned grey. The sounds have faded away. The second hand on the clock is barely moving. You entered the Twilight world … you wanted to see the danger and you crossed the boundary between worlds. Time moves more slowly here, everything is different here. This is the world of the Others.’
‘I don’t believe it.’ Egor glanced round quickly, then looked back at me. ‘Then why’s Grey here?’
‘The cat?’ I smiled. ‘Animals follow their own laws, Egor. Cats live in all the dimensions at once, for them there is no difference.’
‘I don’t believe you.’ His voice was trembling. ‘It’s all a dream, I know! When the light fades like that … I’m asleep. It’s happened to me before.’
‘So you’ve had dreams about turning on the light and the bulb not lighting up?’ I already knew the answer, and anyway I could read it in the boy’s eyes. ‘Or it lights up, but only very, very faintly, like a candle? And you’re walking along with the Dark all around you, and you hold out your hand and you can’t even make out your own fingers?’
He didn’t answer.
‘That happens to all of us, Egor. Every Other has dreams like that. It’s the Twilight world creeping into us, calling us, reminding us of itself. You are an Other. Still a young one, but you are. And you’re the only one …’
I didn’t realise straightaway that his eyes had closed and his head was slumped to one side.
‘You idiot!’ Olga hissed from my shoulder. ‘This is the first time he’s entered the Twilight independently. He hasn’t got the strength for this. Pull him out quickly, or he’ll stay here for ever!’
Twilight coma is a novice’s problem. I’d almost forgotten about it, because I’d never worked with young Others.
‘Egor!’ I leapt across and shook him, grabbing him round the shoulders. He was light, very light – it’s not only time that changes in the Twilight world. ‘Wake up!’
The boy didn’t respond. He’d already done what it takes others months of training to do – entered the Twilight on his own. And the Twilight world sucks the strength out of you.
‘Pull him out!’ said Olga, taking command of the situation. ‘He won’t wake up himself.’
That was the hardest thing of all. I’d done the emergency rescue courses, but I’d never had to drag anyone out of the Twilight for real.
‘Egor, snap out of it!’ I slapped him on the cheeks. Gently at first, then I started putting real force into it. ‘Come on, kid. You’re slipping away into the Twilight world! Wake up!’
He was getting lighter and lighter, melting away in my arms. The Twilight was drinking his life, the final ounces of his strength. The Twilight was changing his body, claiming it as permanent resident. What had I done?
‘Seal yourself off!’ Olga’s sharp voice focused my mind. ‘Seal yourself off, and him too.’
It always used to take me more than a minute to form a sphere. This time I did it in five seconds flat. I felt a stab of pain – as if a small shell had exploded inside my head. I threw my head back when the sphere of exclusion emerged from my body, shrouding me like a shimmering soap bubble. The bubble expanded, reluctantly enveloping me and the boy.
‘That’s it, now hold it there. I can’t do anything to help you, Anton. Hold that sphere!’
Olga was wrong. She’d already helped me, with her advice. I’d probably have realised that I ought to form a sphere, but I could have lost precious seconds along the way.
It started getting lighter. The Twilight was still draining our strength – mine with an effort, the boy’s with ease – but now it only had a few cubic metres of space to operate with. The ordinary laws of physics don’t apply here, but there are parallels. A balance was being established between our living bodies and the Twilight.
Either the Twilight would dissolve and release its prey or the boy would remain an inhabitant of the Twilight world. For ever. It’s what happens to magicians who have pushed themselves beyond the limit, either through carelessness or because they have no choice. It’s what happens with novices who don’t know how to protect themselves against the Twilight properly and allow it to take more than they should.
I looked at Egor: his face was turning grey. He was slipping away into the infinite expanses of the shadow world.
I threw the boy across my right arm, took a penknife out of my left pocket and opened the blade with my teeth.
‘That’s dangerous,’ Olga warned me.
I didn’t answer. I just slashed my wrist.
When the blood spurted out, the Twilight hissed like a red-hot frying pan. Everything blurred. It wasn’t just the loss of the blood, my very life was seeping away with it. I’d ruptured my own defences against the Twilight.
But the dose of energy was too large for it to absorb.
The world turned brighter, my shadow leaped on to the floor and I stepped through it. The rainbow film of the sphere of exclusion burst, releasing us into the everyday world.
CHAPTER 5
A THIN STREAM of blood splashed on to the carpet. The boy was slumped in my arms, still unconscious, but his face was beginning to turn pink. The cat was yowling in the next room as if his throat was being cut.
I lowered Egor on to the sofa, sat down beside him and told Olga to find a bandage.
The owl launched off my shoulder and dashed away like a white streak into the kitchen. She must have slipped into the Twilight on the way, because she was back in a few seconds with a bandage in her beak.
Egor opened his eyes just at the moment when I took the bandage from the owl and started binding up my wrist. He asked:
‘Who’s that?’
‘An owl. Surely you can see that!’
‘What happened to me?’ he asked. His voice was hardly trembling at all.