‘Night Watch?’ Maxim was still trying to detect a trace of the Dark in the stranger. He couldn’t find it, and that frightened him even more. ‘Are you from the Dark?’
He didn’t get it. He tried to probe me: I could feel him searching fiercely and determinedly, but clumsily. I don’t even know if I could have screened myself against it. I could sense some kind of primordial power in this man, or this Other – both terms could apply here – a wild, fanatical energy. I didn’t even try to shield myself.
‘The Night Watch? Are you from the Dark?’
‘No. What’s your name?’
‘Maxim,’ said the Maverick, walking slowly towards me. Looking at me as if he could sense that we’d already met, but I’d looked different then. ‘Who are you?’
‘I work for the Night Watch. I’ll explain everything, just listen to me. You are a Light Magician.’
Maxim’s face trembled and turned to stone.
‘You kill Dark Ones. I know that. This morning you killed a female shape-shifter. This evening, in the restaurant, you killed a Dark Magician.’
‘Do you do that too?’
Maybe I just imagined it. Or maybe there really was a tremor of hope in that voice. I deliberately stuck the pistol back in its holster.
‘I’m a Light Magician. Although not a very powerful one. One of hundreds in Moscow. There are many of us, Maxim.’
His eyes opened wide and I realised I’d hit the target. Now he knew he wasn’t a lunatic who’d imagined he was Superman and felt proud of it. He’d probably never wanted anything so much in his life as to meet a comrade-in-arms.
‘We didn’t spot you in time, Maxim,’ I said. Was it really going to be possible to settle everything peacefully, without bloodshed, without an insane battle between two Light Magicians? ‘That was our fault. You started a war of your own, and you’ve created a messy situation, Maxim, but things can still be put right. You didn’t know about the Treaty, did you?’
He wasn’t listening to me. He couldn’t give a damn for some Treaty he’d never heard of. He wasn’t alone, that was the only thing that mattered to him.
‘You fight the Dark Ones?’
‘Yes.’
‘And there are many of you?’
‘Yes.’
Maxim looked at me again, and I saw the piercing glint of the Twilight in his eyes again. He was trying to see the lie, to see the Dark, to see the malice and hatred – the only things he was capable of seeing.
‘You’re not a Dark One,’ he said. It was almost a complaint. ‘I can see that. I’ve never been wrong, never!’
‘I’m a watchman,’ I repeated. I glanced around – there was no one to be seen. Something had frightened everyone away. That was probably one of the Maverick’s powers.
‘That boy …’
‘He’s an Other too,’ I said quickly. ‘It’s not clear yet if he’s going to be Light or—’
Maxim shook his head.
‘He’s Dark.’
I glanced at Egor. The boy slowly raised his eyes to meet mine.
‘No,’ I said.
I could see his aura quite clearly – bright, pure, shimmering colours, typical for very young children, but not for teenagers. His destiny was his own, his future was still undefined.
‘He’s Dark,’ said Maxim, shaking his head again. ‘Don’t you see? I’m never wrong, never. You stopped me from exterminating an envoy of the Dark.’
He wasn’t likely to be lying. He might not have been given many skills but the ones he had were powerful. Maxim could see the Dark, he could spot the tiniest hints of it in other people’s souls. In fact, he saw the Dark that was just being born more clearly than any other kind.
‘We don’t just kill every Dark One we come across.’
‘Why not?’
‘We have a truce, Maxim.’
‘But there can be no truce with the Dark.’
I shuddered. I hadn’t heard the faintest note of doubt in his voice.
‘Any war is worse than peace.’
‘Except this one.’ Maxim raised the hand holding the dagger. ‘You see this? It was a present from a friend of mine. He was killed, maybe people like this boy were responsible. The Dark is cunning!’
‘You think you need to tell me that?’
‘Of course. You may be a Light One …’ His face twisted in a bitter grin. ‘But if you are, your Light faded a long time ago. There can be no forgiveness for Evil. There can be no truce with Evil.’
‘No forgiveness for Evil?’ Now I was really angry. ‘After you stabbed the Dark Magician, you should have tried hanging around for another ten minutes. Or didn’t you want to see his children screaming and his wife crying? They’re not Dark Ones, Maxim. They’re ordinary people who don’t have our powers. You saved that girl they were shooting at …’
He flinched, but his face remained as implacably stony as ever.
‘Well done! But did you know they were trying to kill her because of the crime you’d committed? Well?’
‘This is war.’
‘You’ve started your own war,’ I whispered. ‘You’re like a child, with your toy dagger. You can’t make an omelette without breaking eggs, is that it? No holds barred in the great struggle for the Light?’
‘I don’t fight for the Light,’ he said in a quiet voice. ‘I fight against the Dark. That’s all I’m capable of. Do you understand? And you’re wrong, it isn’t a matter of eggs and omelettes for me. I didn’t ask for this power, I didn’t dream of having it. But since it has come to me, I can’t act any other way.’
Just who was it who hadn’t noticed him in time?
Why hadn’t we found Maxim straight away, as soon as he became an Other?
He’d have made a first-class field operative. After long arguments and explanations. After months of training, after years of exercises, after tantrums, mistakes, bouts of drinking, attempts to kill himself. Eventually he would have understood the rules of the confrontation – not with his heart, he wasn’t capable of that, but with his cold, uncompromising reason. The rules that govern the struggle between the Light and the Dark, that mean we have to turn a blind eye to werewolves hunting their victims and kill our own people who can’t do that.
There he was, right in front of me. A Light Magician who’d killed more Dark Ones in a few years than a field operative with a hundred years of experience. Alone, cornered. Knowing only how to hate, incapable of love.
Egor just stood there quietly behind me, listening intently. I turned round, took him by the shoulders and pushed him in front of me. I said:
‘Is he a Dark Magician? Probably – I’m afraid you’re right. In a few more years, this kid will start to sense his own powers. As he goes through life, the Dark will creep alongside him. With every step his life will become easier and easier. And every step will be paid for by someone else’s pain. Do you remember the fairy tale about the mermaid? A witch gave her legs, she could walk, but she felt like there were red-hot knives stabbing into her feet all the time. That story’s about us, Maxim! We always walk over sharp knives, and that’s something you can never get used to. But Hans Christian Andersen didn’t tell the whole story. The witch could have done things differently: the mermaid walks, and the knives stab other people. That’s the way of the Dark.’
‘I carry my own pain with me,’ said Maxim, and I suddenly felt an insane hope that he could understand after all. ‘But that mustn’t be allowed to change anything.’
‘Are you prepared to kill him?’ I said, nodding towards Egor. ‘Tell me, Maxim. I’m a Night Watch agent, I know where the line runs between Good and Evil. You can create Evil, even by killing Dark Ones. Tell me – are you prepared to kill him?’