‘Not any interference!’ I protested.
‘Absolutely any. If necessary, they’ll even claim robbery’s a good deed, even murder.’
‘No.’
‘Imagine you’re walking along the street and you see a grown-up beating a child, right there in front of you. What would you do?’
‘If I had any margin left for intervention,’ I said with a shrug, ‘I’d perform a remoralisation. Naturally.’
‘And you’d be absolutely certain that was the right thing to do? Without even thinking it over, without looking into things? What if the child deserved to be punished for what it had done? What if the punishment would have saved it from serious problems later in life, but now it will grow up to be a murderer and a bandit? You and your remoralisation!’
‘Sveta, you don’t understand.’
‘What don’t I understand?’
‘Even if I didn’t have any margin left for parapsychological influence, I still wouldn’t just walk on by.’
Svetlana snorted.
‘And you’d be certain you were right? Where’s the boundary?’
‘Everyone determines that for themselves. It comes with experience.’
She looked at me thoughtfully.
‘Anton, every novice asks these questions. I’m right, aren’t I?’
‘Yes.’ I smiled.
‘And you’re used to answering them, you have a series of ready-made answers, sophisms, historical examples and parallels.’
‘No, Sveta. That’s not the point. The point is that the Dark Ones never ask questions like these.’
‘How do you know?’
‘A Dark Magician can heal, a Light Magician can kill,’ I said. ‘That’s the truth. Do you know what the difference is between Light and Dark?’
‘No, I don’t. For some reason, they don’t teach us that. I expect it’s hard to formulate clearly.’
‘Not at all. If you always put yourself and your own interests first, then your path leads through the Dark. If you think about others, it leads towards the Light.’
‘And how long will it take to reach it? The Light, I mean.’
‘For ever.’
‘This is all empty words, Anton. A word game. What does an experienced Dark Magician tell his novice? Maybe he uses words that are just as beautiful and true.’
‘Yes. About freedom. About how everyone gets the place in life that they deserve. About how pity is degrading and true love is blind, and true kindness is useless – and true freedom is freedom from everyone else.’
‘And is that a lie?’
‘No,’ I said with a nod. ‘That’s a part of the truth too. Sveta, we’re not given the chance to choose absolute truth. Truth’s always two-faced. The only thing we have is the right to reject the lie we find most repugnant. Do you know what I tell novices about to enter the Twilight for the first time? We enter it in order to acquire strength. And as the price for entering it we give up the part of the truth that we don’t want to accept. Ordinary humans have it easier. A million times easier, even with all the disasters and problems and worries that don’t exist for the Others. Humans have never had to face this choice: they can be good and bad, it all depends on the moment, on their surroundings, on the book they read yesterday, on the steak they had for dinner. That’s why they’re so easy to influence, even the most malicious person can easily be turned to the Light, and the kindest and most noble of men can be nudged towards the Dark. But we have made a choice.’
‘I’ve made it too, Anton. I’ve already been in the Twilight.’
‘Yes.’
‘Then why don’t I understand where the boundary is and what the difference is between me and some witch who attends black masses? Why am I still asking these questions?’
‘You’ll never stop asking them. Out loud at first, and later on just to yourself. It will never stop, never. If you wanted to be free of painful questions, you chose the wrong side.’
‘I chose the one I wanted.’
‘I know. So now put up with it.’
‘All my life?’
‘Yes. It will be a long one, but you’ll never get over this. You’ll never stop asking yourself if every step you make is the right one.’
CHAPTER 3
MAXIM DIDN’T like restaurants. That was just his character. He felt far more comfortable and relaxed in bars and clubs, even the more expensive ones, as long as they weren’t too stiff and formal. Of course, there were some people who always behaved like red commissars negotiating with the bourgeoisie, even in the most upmarket restaurants: no manners and no wish to learn any. But then who did all those New Russians in the jokes have to model themselves on?
Last night had to be smoothed over somehow, though. His wife had either believed his story about an ‘important business meeting’ or at least pretended that she did. But he was still suffering vague pangs of conscience. If only she knew. If she could only imagine who he really was and what it was he did.
Maxim couldn’t say anything, so he had no choice but to make amends for his absence the previous night by using the same methods as any decent man after a little affair. Presents, pampering, an evening out. For instance, at a posh restaurant with exotic cuisine, foreign waiters, elegant decor and an extensive wine list.
Maxim wondered if Elena really thought he’d been unfaithful to her the night before. The question intrigued him, but not enough for him to ask it out loud. There are always some things that have to be left unsaid. Maybe some day she’d learn the truth. And then she’d be proud of him.
But his hopes on that score were probably in vain – he realised that. In a world full of the creatures of Malice and Darkness, he was the only knight of Light, eternally alone, unable to share with anyone the truth that was occasionally revealed to him. At the beginning, Maxim had still hoped to meet someone else like him: a sighted man in the kingdom of the blind, a shepherd who could sniff out the wolves in sheep’s clothing from among the heedless herd.
But there wasn’t anyone. He had no one to stand beside him.
Even so, he hadn’t despaired.
‘Do you think this is worth trying?’
Maxim glanced down at the menu. He didn’t know what malai kofta was. But that had never prevented him from making decisions. And in any case, the ingredients were listed.
‘Yes, try it. Meat with a cream sauce.’
‘Beef?’
He didn’t realise straight away that Elena was joking. Then he smiled back at her.
‘Definitely.’
‘And what if I do order something with beef?’
‘Then they’ll refuse politely,’ said Maxim. Keeping his wife amused wasn’t so difficult. He actually rather enjoyed it. But right now he would really like to take a look round the room. Something here wasn’t right. He could sense a strange, cold draught blowing through the semi-darkness at his back; it made him screw up his eyes and keep looking, looking …
Could it really be?
The gap between his missions was usually at least a few months, maybe six. Nothing had ever come up the very next day …
But the symptoms were only too familiar.
Maxim reached into his inside jacket pocket, as if he was checking his wallet. What he was really concerned about was something else – the little wooden dagger, carved artlessly but with great care. It was a simple whittled weapon he’d played with as a child, without understanding what it was for at the time, thinking it was just a toy.
The dagger was waiting.