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‘The prism of power?’ I asked rhetorically. ‘Alisa Donnikova, you have performed a magical intervention of the third degree.’

‘Fourth,’ she replied quickly.

I shrugged.

‘Third or fourth, that’s of no real importance. It still means the tribunal, Alisa. You’re in big trouble.’

‘I didn’t do anything.’ The witch was trying hard to look calm. ‘I have personal permission to carry the prism. I didn’t make use of it.’

‘Alisa, any higher magician can extract all the information needed from this thing.’

I reached down towards the ground, forcing the blue moss to part and the prism to leap into my hand. It was cold, very cold.

‘Even I can read the history from it,’ I said. ‘Alisa Donnikova, Other, Dark Witch of the Day Patrol, fourth grade of power, I hereby formally accuse you of violating the Treaty. If you offer resistance I shall be obliged to eliminate you. Put your hands behind your back.’

She obeyed. And then she started talking, quickly and urgently, trying desperately to persuade me:

‘Anton, wait, please, listen to me. Yes, I did try out the prism, but you must understand, it’s the first time I’ve ever been trusted with such a powerful amulet! Anton, I’m not so stupid as to attack people in the centre of Moscow, and why would I want to? Anton, we’re both Others! Can’t we settle this in a friendly way? Anton!’

‘Friendly?’ I said, putting the prism in my pocket. ‘Come on, let’s go.’

‘Anton, a fourth-degree intervention, or third degree! Any third-degree intervention carried out in the interests of the Light! Not like my stupid game with the prism, a genuine intervention!’

I could understand why she was panicking. This business could easily end in dematerialisation. A Day Watch agent sucking the life out of humans for her own personal ends – that would be a tremendous scandal. They’d hand Alisa over without the slightest hesitation.

‘You have no authority to make such compromises. The leader of the Dark Ones will not ratify your promise.’

‘Zabulon will confirm it!’

‘Will he?’ I was shocked by the certainty in her voice. She was probably Zabulon’s lover. But even so, it was surprising. ‘Alisa, I once made a friendly agreement with you.’

‘Yes, and I was the one who suggested overlooking your intervention.’

‘And do you remember how it all turned out?’ I asked with a smile.

‘This is different, I’m the one who’s broken the law,’ said Alisa, lowering her eyes. ‘You’ll have the right to strike back. You don’t need permission for third-degree Light magic, do you? Or for any Light magic? You could remoralise twenty vicious criminals and make them righteous. Incinerate ten murderers on the spot. Prevent a catastrophe, create a localised time warp! Anton, isn’t that worth overlooking my stupid trick? Look around, everyone here’s still alive! I hadn’t done anything yet. I’d only just started—’

‘Everything you say can be used against you.’

‘Yes, I know, I know!’

There were tears glittering in her eyes. Probably quite genuine ones too. Beneath her nature as a witch she was still a perfectly ordinary girl. A pretty girl frightened by the mistake she’d made. And was it her fault that she’d ended up on the side of the Dark?

I felt my emotional shield starting to buckle and shook my head:

‘Don’t try to put pressure on me!’

‘Anton, please, let’s settle this. Wouldn’t you like the right to a third-degree intervention?’

Wouldn’t I just? It was every Light Magician’s dream to be given carte blanche like that. Just for a moment to feel that he was fighting like a genuine soldier and not sitting in the trenches, being eaten by lice and gazing dejectedly at the white flag of truce.

‘You have no right to make such a proposition,’ I said firmly.

‘I shall have!’Alisa shook her head and took a deep breath. ‘Zabulon!’

I waited, clutching the little combat disc in my hand.

‘Zabulon, I summon you!’ Her voice had become a high-pitched screech. I noticed the human shadows around us begin moving a little faster: a vague, inexplicable feeling of alarm was making the people lengthen their strides.

Would her summons reach the Dark Ones’ chief again?

Like that time at the Maharajah restaurant, when Zabulon had almost killed me with Shahab’s Lash?

But he hadn’t killed me. He’d missed.

Even though the whole operation had been planned by Gesar, and Zabulon really seemed to believe that I was guilty of killing Dark Ones.

Did that mean he’d already had other plans for me?

Or had Gesar intervened, secretly and unobtrusively diverted the streaks of lightning away from me?

I didn’t know. As always, I didn’t have enough information. I could have come up with thirty-three different explanations, each contradicting the others.

I was almost hoping Zabulon wouldn’t respond. Then I’d be able to pull Alisa out of the Twilight, call in the boss or one of the operatives, hand the fool over to them and receive a bonus at the end of the month. But what did I care about bonuses right now?

‘Zabulon!’ There was genuine supplication in her voice. ‘Zabulon!’

She was crying now, without even realising it. The mascara had run under her eyes.

‘Don’t waste your time,’ I said. ‘Let’s go.’

Just at that moment a Dark portal opened only two metres away from us.

First a blast of cold chilled me to the bone, and I started thinking fondly of the heat in the human world. Then the moss burst into flames and burned all the way down the street. Naturally Zabulon hadn’t set it on fire deliberately, it was just that the opening of the portal had spilled out so much power that the moss couldn’t assimilate it all.

‘Zabulon,’ whispered Alisa.

From out of the paving stones about five metres away a ray of violet light shot up into the sky. The flash blinded me and I automatically squeezed my eyes shut. When I looked in that direction again, there was a bluish-black bubble hanging in the grey mist, with something looking vaguely like a man clambering out of it – bristling with spiny scales. Zabulon had responded to the summons by travelling through the second or third level of the Twilight. The time we were moving in would have seemed as slow there as human time did to us.

I suddenly had the old feeling of powerlessness that I thought I’d come to terms with a long time ago. The powers that Zabulon or Gesar used so casually were so far beyond me that I simply couldn’t comprehend them.

‘Zabulon!’ Still holding her hands behind her back, Alisa raced towards the monstrous creature and pressed herself against it, burying her face in the bristly scales. ‘Help me, help me!’

Of course, Zabulon hadn’t appeared in demonic form just to make an impression on me. In human form he wouldn’t have survived a minute in the deep layers of the Twilight. And he’d probably had to travel for hours, if not days.

The monster cast a baleful glance at me from the narrow slits of its eyes. A long forked tongue slithered out of its mouth and slid across Alisa’s head, leaving a trail of white slime on her hair. A scaly hand with long claws took hold of Alisa by the chin and gently lifted up her head. Their eyes met. The exchange of information was brief.

‘Little idiot!’ the demon roared. The tongue withdrew into its mouth and the jaws clacked shut, just missing it. ‘Greedy little idiot!’

Well. So much for my right to a third-degree intervention.

The demon’s short tail lashed Alisa across the legs, tearing the silk dress and knocking her to the ground. Its eyes flashed, the witch was enveloped in a blue glow and she froze.

So much for the help Alisa had wanted.