The Nightwatch

by Sergei Lukyanenko

  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 paralyzed by fear. And there are some 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 thwart me. As if he really had the power to do it.

  "Yes, Egor. Sometimes people appear who can enter the Twilight world. They take the side of either Good or Evil. Light or Darkness. 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, kid. Take a look around, listen. All the colors have turned gray. The sounds have faded away. The second hand on the clock is barely creeping along. 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 around quickly, then looked back at me. "Then why's Gray 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 Darkness swaying 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 about itself. You are an Other. Still a young one, but you are. And you're the only one…"

  I didn't realize immediately that his eyes were 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 forever!"

  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 under the shoulders. He was light, very light—it's not only the movement of 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 just loves to suck the strength out of you.

  "Pull him out!" said Olga, taking command of the situation. "He won't wake up himself."

  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, sucking out his final ounces of 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 back my head 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 realized that I ought to form a sphere, but I could have lost precious seconds in the process.

  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 meters 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. Forever. It's what happens to magicians who have pushed themselves beyond the limit, either through carelessness or because they had 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 gray. 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 went blurred. It wasn't just the loss of the blood; my very life was seeping away with it. I'd ruptured my own defenses against the Twilight.

  But the dose of energy was too large for it to absorb.

  The world turned brighter; my shadow jumped onto 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 onto the carpet. The boy was slumped in my arms, still unconscious, but his face was returning to pink. The cat was screeching in the next room as if its throat were being cut.

  I lowered Egor onto the couch, sat down beside him, and said:

  "Olga, 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.

  "You lost consciousness."

  "Why?" His eyes wandered anxiously over the traces of blood on the floor and my clothes. I'd managed not to get any on Egor.

  "It's my blood," I explained. "I cut myself by accident. You have to be careful when you enter the Twilight, Egor. It's an alien environment, even for us, the Others. While we're in the Twilight world, we have to expend our strength constantly, feeding its vital energy. But a little at a time. If you don't keep control of the process, the Twilight will suck all the life out of you. It's just a price we have to pay."

  "And I paid more than I should have?"

  "More than you had. And you almost stayed in the Twilight world forever. It's not death—but maybe it's worse than death."

  "Let me help…" The boy winced as he sat up—he must have felt dizzy. I held out my hand and he started bandaging my wrist, clumsily but trying hard. The boy's aura hadn't changed, it was still iridescent, neutral. He'd already entered the Twilight, but it hadn't left its mark.

  "Do you believe I'm your
friend?" I asked.

  "I don't know. Not my enemy, I suppose. Or you can't do anything to me!"

  I reached out and touched the boy's neck and he instantly tensed up. I unfastened the little chain and took it off his neck.

  "You see?"

  "So you're not a vampire?" His voice was a bit husky.

  "No. But that's not why I could touch the garlic and the silver, Egor. They won't stop a vampire."

  "But in all the films…"

  "And in all the films the good guys always beat the bad guys. Listen, kid, superstitions are dangerous; they give people false hope."

  "Isn't there any real hope?"

  "No. Not really." I got up and felt the bandage. Not bad; it was quite tight and holding firm. In half an hour I'd be able to heal the wound with a spell, but I didn't have enough strength yet. The boy looked up at me from the couch. Yes, he was a bit calmer now. But he still didn't trust me. It amused me that he ignored the white owl dozing on the television with an innocent air. It looked as if Olga had influenced his mind after all. That was all to the good: Explaining who the talking white owl was would have been rather tricky.

  "Have you got any food?" I asked.

  "What kind?"

  "Any kind. Tea with sugar. A piece of bread. I used up a lot of strength too."

  "I'll find something. How did you get cut?"

  I didn't go into the details, but I didn't lie about it, either.

  "It was deliberate. I had to do it to get you out of the Twilight."

  "Thanks. If it's true."

  He was a bit mouthy, but I liked that.

  "You're welcome. If you disappeared into the Twilight, my boss would have my head."

  The boy snorted and got up. But he was still keeping his distance from me.

  "What boss is that?"

  "A very strict one. Well, are you going to pour me some tea?"

  "Anything for a good man." Yes, he was still afraid. And he was hiding his fear by being cocky and familiar.

  "Get this straight—I'm not a human being. I'm an Other. And you're an Other."

  "But what's the difference," said Egor, looking me up and down challengingly. "You don't look any different."

  "Until you give me some tea, I won't say a word. Didn't anyone teach you how to treat guests?"

  "Uninvited ones? How did you get in?"

  "Through the door. I'll show you. Later."

  "Come on then." It looked like I was going to get my tea after all. As I set out after the boy, I couldn't help wincing at the smell. I just had to say something.

  "You know what, Egor, why don't you wash your neck first."

  The boy shook his head without looking round.

  "In any case, it's stupid only to protect your neck. There are five points on the human body where a vampire can bite."

  "Oh yeah?"

  "Oh yeah. I mean on a male body, of course."

  Even the back of his neck turned red.

  I tipped five heaped spoons of sugar into the mug and winked at Egor:

  "Pour me a glass of tea with two spoons of sugar… I want to try it before I die."

  He obviously didn't know that old joke.

  "And how many should I take?"

  "How much do you weigh?"

  "I don't remember."

  I estimated his weight by eye.

  "Put four in. To prevent the onset of hypoglycemia."

  He washed his neck after all, but it didn't completely get rid of the smell of garlic. Gulping down his tea, he said:

  "Explain!"

  This wasn't anything like the way I'd envisioned it. Follow the boy when the Call reached him. Kill or capture the vampire. And take the grateful boy to the boss—who would be able to explain everything properly.

  "Once upon a time…" I said, cracking myself up. "Like the beginning of a fairy tale, that, isn't it? Only it isn't a fairy tale."

  "I'm listening."

  "Okay. I'll start with something else. There is a human world." I nodded toward the window, the little courtyard outside, and the cars crawling along the road. "There it is. All around us. And most people can't move beyond it. That's the way it's always been. But sometimes we turn up. The Others."

  "And vampires?"

  "Vampires are Others too. They're a different kind of Other, though; their powers are determined in advance."

  "I don't understand," said Egor, shaking his head.

  Okay, so I'm no tutor. I'm no good at expounding the basic truths; I don't enjoy it…

  "Imagine two shamans who have gorged themselves on narcotic mushrooms beating on their tambourines," I said. "A long, long time ago, back in primeval times. One of the shamans is honestly putting one over on the hunters and the chief. The other suddenly sees his shadow, which was trembling on the floor of the cave, acquire volume and rise up until it stands erect. He takes a step forward and enters the shadow. He enters the Twilight. And that's when the most interesting part begins. You understand?"

  Egor didn't say anything.

  "The Twilight changes the person who has entered it. It's a different world, and it makes people into Others. But who you become depends entirely on you. The Twilight is a raging river flowing in all directions at once. Decide who you want to be in the Twilight world. But make up your mind quickly; you don't have much time."

  Now the boy understood. His pupils contracted and his skin turned slightly paler. An excellent stress response; he really would make a good operational agent…

  "Who can I become?"

  "You? Anybody you like. Your choice still hasn't been made. And you know what the basic choice is? Good or Evil. Light or Darkness."

  "And are you good?"

  "First and foremost I'm an Other. The difference between Good and Evil lies in your attitude toward ordinary people. If you choose the Light, you won't use your powers for personal gain. If you choose the Darkness, that will be what you do most of the time. But even a black magician is capable of healing people and finding people who have been lost without trace. And a white magician can refuse to help people."

  "Then I don't see what the difference is!"

  "You will. You'll understand when you choose one side or the other."

  "I'll never choose!"

  "It's too late, Egor. You've already been in the Twilight, and you're already changing. In a couple of days the choice will have been made."

  "If you chose the Light…" Egor got up and poured himself some more tea. I noticed it was the first time he hadn't been afraid to turn his back on me. "Then who are you? A magician?"

  "A magician's apprentice. I work in the office of the Night Watch. Someone has to do it."

  "And what can you do? Show me, I want to check."

  There it was, straight out of the textbook. He'd been in the Twilight, but that hadn't convinced him. Petty fairground tricks are far more impressive.

  "Watch."

  I held my arm out toward him. Egor froze, trying to understand what was going on. Then he looked at his cup.

  The steam had stopped rising from his tea. The tea was crackling as it turned into a cylinder of muddy-brown ice with tea leaves frozen into it.

  "Oh," said the boy.

  Thermodynamics is the simple part of manipulating matter. I allowed the Brownian motion to start up again, and the ice boiled. Egor shrieked and dropped his cup.

  "Sorry." I jumped up and grabbed the cloth from the sink, then squatted down to wipe up the puddle on the linoleum.

  "Magic's nothing but trouble," said the boy. "That was a good cup."

  "Just a moment."

  My shadow bounded toward me. I entered the Twilight and looked at the broken pieces. They still remembered the whole, and it hadn't been the cup's destiny to get broken so soon.

  Still in the Twilight, I raked the shards together with my hand. A few of the smallest pieces, that had fallen under the stove, eagerly moved a bit closer.

  I emerged from the Twilight and put the white cup on the table.

  "
Now you only need to pour more tea into it."

  "Fantastic." Apparently this little trick had made a big impression on the kid. "And can you do that with any kind of thing?"

  "Almost any kind."

  "Anton… what if the thing was broken a week ago?"

  I couldn't help smiling.

  "No, sorry, then it's too late. The Twilight gives you a chance, but you have to take it quickly, very quickly."

  Egor's face darkened. I wondered what it was he'd broken a week ago.

  "Now do you believe me?"

  "Is that magic?"

  "Yes. The most primitive kind. It takes almost no effort to learn."

  I probably shouldn't have said that. The boy's eyes lit up. He was already figuring out his prospects. His profit.

  Light and Darkness…

  "But an experienced magician, he can do other stuff too?"

  "Even I can."

  "And control people?"

  "Yes," I said. "Yes, we can do that."

  "And do you? How come terrorists seize hostages? You could creep up in the Twilight without being seen and shoot them. Or make them shoot themselves! How come people die of diseases? Magicians can cure them, you told me so yourself."

  "That would be Good," I said.

  "Of course! But you're the magicians of the Light!"

  "If we do any deed that is unconditionally good, it gives the Dark Magicians the right to do an evil deed."

  Egor looked at me in amazement. Too much had happened over the last twenty-four hours for him to take it all in. But he was handling it pretty well.

  "Unfortunately, Egor, Evil is stronger by its very nature. Evil is destructive. It's much easier for Evil to destroy than it is for Good to create."

  "Then what do you do? This Night Watch of yours… Do you fight against the Dark Magicians?"

  I mustn't answer. I knew that with a devastating clarity, just as I knew I should never have confided in the boy. I should have put him to sleep and withdrawn deeper into the Twilight, but not tried to explain anything to him, not a single thing!

  I wouldn't be able to prove anything to him!

  "Do you fight against them?"

  "Not exactly," I said. The truth was worse than a lie, but I had no right to tell a lie. "We keep an eye on each other."