was standing in the center of Novoslobodskaya Station. It's a common enough scene there when it's not that late: a girl waiting, maybe for a guy, maybe for a girlfriend.

In my case, I was waiting for both.

It would be harder to find me underground than on the surface. Even the best Dark Ones wouldn't be able to pick up my aura through the layers of earth, through all the ancient graves that Moscow stood on, among the crowd, in that dense, agitated stream of people. Of course, combing all the stations wouldn't be too hard either: Just one Other with my image for each station would do it.

But I was hoping I still had an hour or half an hour before the Day Watch made that move.

How simple everything was, after all. How elegantly the pieces of the puzzle fit together. I shook my head and smiled, and immediately caught a young guy dressed punk-style looking at me inquisitively. No, my young friend, you're on the wrong track. This sexy body is only smiling at its own thoughts.

I ought to have got the picture the moment the plotlines all started converging on me. The boss was right, of course. I wasn't valuable enough. They wouldn't have come up with a dangerous and costly maneuver lasting years just for my sake. It was all about something else, something completely different.

They were trying to exploit our weaknesses. Our goodness and love. And it was working, or almost working.

I suddenly felt like I needed a cigarette really badly; my mouth even filled up with saliva. Strange, I'd never really smoked much; it had to be a reaction from Olga's body I imagined her a hundred years earlier¡ªan elegant dame with a slim cigarette in a long holder, sitting in some literary salon somewhere with Blok or Gumilev. Smiling as she discussed the Freemasons, the sovereignty of the people, and the urge toward spiritual perfection.

Ah, here was someone at last!

"Have you got a cigarette?" I asked a young guy walking past¡ªhe was dressed well enough not to smoke cheap garbage like Golden Yava.

He gave me a surprised look, then held out a pack of Parliaments.

I took a cigarette, thanked him with a smile, and cast a mild spell over myself. People's eyes slid off to the side.

That was better.

I concentrated, raising the temperature of the tip of the cigarette to two hundred degrees, and inhaled. So we'd wait. And we'd break a few little unquestionable rules.

People flowed past, giving me a wide berth, about a meter. They sniffed the air in surprise, wondering where the smell of tobacco smoke was coming from. And I smoked, dropping the ash at my feet, eyeing the militiaman standing just five steps away and trying to figure out my chances.

They turned out to be not that bad. Pretty good, in fact. And that bothered me.

If they'd been preparing this maneuver for three years, one option they must have taken into account was that I'd see through it. They must have an answer for that¡ªbut what was it?

It took me a second or two to register the surprised look. And when I realized who was watching me, I started in surprise.

Egor.

The kid, the Other with weak powers who'd got caught up in the big fight between the two Watches six months ago. Played for a patsy by both sides. An open card that still hadn't been dealt. But players don't fight over cards like that.

His powers were strong enough to penetrate my casual cover, and the meeting itself didn't really come as a surprise. There are many chance events in the world, but apart from that, there's also something called predetermination.

"Hi, Egor," I said without even pausing to think. I expanded the range of the spell to include him in the circle of non-attention.

He started and looked around. Then he started staring at me. Of course, he hadn't seen Olga in human form. Only as a white owl.

"Who are you and how do you know me?"

Yes, he'd grown. Not on the outside, on the inside. I couldn't understand how he could have avoided making his choice for so long and still not joined the side of Light or the side of Darkness. He'd already entered the Twilight, in circumstances that meant he could have gone either way. But his aura was still as pure and neutral as ever.

His destiny was his own. It must be good to have your own destiny.

"I'm Anton Gorodetsky, the Night Watch agent," I said simply. "Remember me?"

Of course he remembered me.

"But..."

"?Take no notice. It's a disguise; we can swap bodies."

I wondered for a moment if I ought to think back to the course on illusion and temporarily restore my usual appearance. But there was no need¡ªhe believed me. Maybe because he remembered the boss's body swap.

"What do you want from me?"

"Nothing, I'm just waiting for a friend, the girl this body belongs to. You just happened to meet me here by chance."

"I hate your Watches!"

"If you say so. But I really haven't been trailing you. You can go if you want."

The kid found that far harder to believe than the idea of swapping bodies. He looked around suspiciously and frowned.

Of course, it was hard for him to leave. He'd touched the secret and sensed powers that went beyond the human world. And he'd renounced those powers, at least for the time being.

But I could imagine how much he wanted to learn¡ªat least just a few little things, stuff like conjuring tricks with pyrokinesis and telekinesis, suggestion, healing, cursing¡ªI didn't know what exactly, but he must have wanted to know how to do these things, not just know about them.

"You really haven't been trailing me?" he finally asked.

"No, I haven't. And we can't lie¡ªnot directly."

"How do I know that isn't a lie too?" the kid muttered, looking away. A logical question.

"You don't," I agreed. "Believe it if you want to."

"I'd like to," he said, still looking down at the floor. "But I remember what happened up there on the roof. I dream about it at night."

"You don't need to be afraid of that vampire," I said. "She's been laid to rest. By order of the court."

"I know."

"How?" I asked, surprised.

"Your boss called me."

"I didn't know about that."

"He called one day when there was no one else home. He said the vampire had been executed. And he said that since I was a potential Other, even if I hadn't made a choice yet, I'd been taken off the list of human beings. So I could never be selected by chance again, and I needn't be afraid."

"Yes, of course," I said.

"And I asked him if my parents were still on the list."

I couldn't think of anything to say to that. I knew what the boss's answer had been.

"I'll be going, then," said Egor, taking a step away. "Your cigarette's finished."

I dropped the butt and nodded.

"Where have you been? It's late."

"Training; I swim. Tell me, is that really you?"

"You remember the trick with the broken cup?"

Egor gave a weak smile. It's always the cheapest tricks that impress people the most.

"I remember. Look..." he stopped short, staring past me.

I turned around.

It was strange to see myself from the outside. A young guy with my face, walking with my walk, wearing my jeans and sweater, with a Walkman on his belt and a small bag in his hand. And that smile, so faint you could barely see it¡ªthat was mine. Even the eyes, those false mirrors, they were mine too.

"Hi, Anton," said Olga. "Good evening, Egor."

She wasn't surprised to see the kid there. She seemed very calm altogether.

"Hello," said Egor, looking first at her, then at me. "Is Anton in your body now?"

"That's right."

"You're pretty. How do you know me?"

"I saw you when I was in a body that wasn't so pretty. Excuse us now; Anton's got serious problems and we've got to deal with them."

"Should I go then?" Egor seemed to have forgotten that was what he'd just been about to do.

"Yes. And don't get angry; things are going to get hot around here any moment, very hot."

The kid looked at me.

"I've got all of Day Watch on my trail," I explained. "All the Dark Ones in Moscow."

"Why?"

"It's a long story. You'd better get back home."

It sounded rude. Egor frowned and nodded. He glanced in the direction of the platform. A train was just pulling in.

"But they'll protect you, won't they?" He was still finding it hard to grasp which of us was in which body. "Your Watch will?"

"They'll try," Olga replied gently. "But now go, please. We haven't got much time, and it's running out fast."

"Goodbye," said Egor, turning and running toward the train. His third step took him out of the circle of non-attention and he was almost knocked off his feet.

"If the boy had stayed, I might have believed he was going to join our side," Olga said as she watched him go. "I'd really like to check the probability lines to see why you met him in the metro."

"By chance."

"Nothing happens by chance. Ah, Anton, I used to be able to read reality lines like an open book, no problem. "

"I wouldn't mind having decent prevision."

"Genuine prevision isn't something you can just order from a catalog. Okay, back to business. You want to give my body back?"

"Yes, right here."

"Okay." Olga stretched out her arms¡ªmy arms¡ªand took hold of my shoulders. It gave me a stupid, ambiguous sort of feeling. She obviously felt the same thing, because she laughed and said: "Why did you have to mess everything up so soon, Anton? I had such extravagant plans for this evening."

"Maybe I should be grateful to the Maverick for disrupting your plans?"

Olga stopped smiling and concentrated.

"All right. Let's get on with it."

We stood with our backs touching and held our arms out in the form of a cross. I took hold of Olga's fingers, which were also mine.

"Give back what is mine," said Olga.

"Give back what is mine," I repeated.

"Gesar, we return your gift!"

I started when I realized she'd spoken the boss's real name. And what a name!

"Gesar, we return your gift!" Olga repeated sternly.

"Gesar, we return your gift!"

Olga switched into an ancient tongue, intoning the words gently, speaking as if it were her native language. It hurt me to feel how hard she had to strain to perform a piece of magic that really shouldn't have been difficult with second-grade powers.

Changing back bodies is like releasing a spring. Our minds had only been kept in each other's bodies by the energy that Boris Ignatievich Gesar had transferred to us. All we had to do was relinquish that energy and we would resume our previous forms. If either of us had been a first-grade magician, we needn't even have been in physical contact; it could all have been done at a distance.

Olga's voice soared as she pronounced the final formula of renunciation.

For an instant nothing happened. Then I was racked by cramps and shooting pains; everything blurred and went gray in front of my eyes, as if I were sinking into the Twilight. For a moment I could see the whole station¡ªthe dusty, stained-glass windows, the dirty floor, the slow movements of the people, the rainbows of their auras, two bodies thrashing about as if they'd been crucified to each other.

Then I was pushed and shoved and squeezed into the shell of my body.

"Aaagh," I gasped as I fell to the floor, just putting my hands out at the last moment. My muscles were twitching, my ears were ringing. The reverse switch had been far less comfortable, maybe because it wasn't performed by the boss.

"Are you okay?" Olga asked in a feeble voice. "Ooh, you bastard."

"What?" I asked, looking at her.

"You could at least have gone to the bathroom!"

"Not without Zabulon's permission."

"Okay, let's forget it. Anton, we've got about a quarter of an hour. Tell me everything."

"What exactly?"

"What you've figured out. Come on. You didn't just want to get back into your own body; you've worked out some kind of plan."

I nodded, then straightened up, dusted off my palms, and slapped my knees to clean off my jeans. The strap holding my holster was too tight under my arm; I'd have to loosen it. There weren't many people in the metro now, the flood tide had receded. But that meant the ones who were left weren't kept busy maneuvering through the crowd, and they had time to think: Auras flared up in bright rainbow colors and I caught the echoes of their owners' feelings.

They'd really cut back Olga's powers. In her body it had taken me a real effort to see the secret world of human feelings. But then, that was only a simple thing, absolutely simple. Not even anything to feel proud about.

"It's not me the Day Watch want, Olga. They don't want me at all. I'm an ordinary average magician."

She nodded.

"But I'm the one they're hunting. There's no doubt about that. So if I'm not the quarry, I must be the bait. The same way Egor was the bait when Sveta was the quarry."

"Have you only just realized that?" Olga shook her head. "Of course. You're the bait."

"For Svetlana?"

The sorceress nodded.

"I only realized it today," I admitted. "Just an hour ago, when Sveta wanted to stand up to the Day Watch, she shifted up to fifth-grade powers. In an instant. If a fight had broken out¡ªshe would have been killed. We can be controlled too, Olya. Human beings can be turned in different directions, toward Good or Evil; the Dark Ones can be manipulated through their meanness, their vanity, their thirst for power and fame. And we can be manipulated through our love. In that area we're as defenseless as children."

"Yes."

"Is the boss in the picture?" I asked. "Olya?"

"Yes."

She was finding it hard to get her words out. I couldn't believe it! Light Magicians who had lived for hundreds of years didn't feel shame. They'd saved the world so often; they had all the ethical dodges down pat. Great Sorceresses didn't feel ashamed, not even former Great Sorceresses. They'd been betrayed too often themselves.

I laughed.

"Olya, did you realize right away? As soon as the Dark Ones lodged their protest? That they were hunting me, but only in order to push Svetlana out of control?"

"Yes."

"Yes, yes, yes. And you still didn't warn me, or her?"

"Svetlana needs to mature quickly, to skip a few steps on the way." A bright flame flared up in Olga's eyes. "Anton, you're my friend. I'll tell you the truth, so you can understand. We don't have enough time right now to nurture a Great Sorceress properly. But we need her, we need her more than you can even imagine. She already has enough power. She'll get tougher and learn how to muster that power and direct it and, what's even more important, she'll learn how to hold it in check."

"And if I die, that will only strengthen her will and her hatred of Darkness."

"Yes. But I'm sure you're not going to die. The Watch is hunting for the Maverick; everybody's been enlisted. We'll turn him over to the Dark Ones and the charges against you will be dropped."

"But a certain Light Magician who wasn't initiated at the right time will die. Miserable and alone, like an animal brought to bay, convinced he's the only one fighting against the Darkness."

"Yes."

"You agree with everything I say today," I said in a perfectly calm voice. "Olga, don't you think what you're doing might just be despicable?"

"No." There wasn't a trace of doubt in her voice. That meant the stakes must be really high.

"How long do I have to hold out, Light One?"

She shuddered.

There was a time, a long time ago, when Watch members were fond of¡ª"Light One." Why had the words lost their old meaning? Why did they sound as absurd now as the word "gentlemen" used to address the dirty street bums around the beer kiosks?

"Until morning at least."

"The night's not our time any longer. Today all the Dark Ones will be out on the streets of Moscow. And they'll be acting within their rights."

"Only until we locate the Maverick. Hang in there."

"Olga." I took a step toward her and touched her cheek with my hand, for a moment completely forgetting the difference in our ages¡ªwhat were a few hundred years or so, compared with eternal night?¡ªand about the differences in our powers and our knowledge. "Olga, do you really believe that I'll still be alive in the morning?"

The sorceress didn't answer.

I nodded. There was nothing more to talk about.

I wonder how it would be

To lose myself in the dawn.

To knock at the transparent doors

And know no one will answer.

I clicked the button and set the Walkman playing in random mode. Not because the song didn't match my mood, exactly the opposite in fact.

I love the metro at night, but I don't know why. There's nothing to look at except the same old dreary advertisements and the same old tired human auras. The rumble of the engine, the gusts of air coming in through the half-open windows, the jolting over the rails. The numb wait for your own station.

But I love it anyway.

It's so easy to take advantage of our love!

I shuddered, got up, and walked to the door, even though I'd been planning to ride to the end of the line.

This station was Rizhskaya. The next was Alekseevskaya.

Again that intense silence,

Always about the same thing,

Today the season opens

At the lepers' club.

That was okay.

I was already on the escalator when I caught the faint scent of power ahead of me. I ran my eyes along the downward escalator and saw the Dark One almost immediately.

No, he wasn't a member of the Day Watch staff; he was carrying himself all wrong for that. He was a low-ranking magician, grade four or five, probably five, and he was concentrating hard, scanning the people around him. Still really young, not much over twenty, in a crumpled jacket that was hanging open, with long, light hair and a handsome face even when it was all tensed up like that.

So what could have pushed you over the edge into the Darkness? What happened before that first time you stepped into the Twilight? An argument with your girlfriend? A quarrel with your parents? Did you flunk your exams in college or get failing grades in school? Did someone stomp on your foot in the trolley?

And the most terrible thing of all is that your appearance hasn't even changed. Maybe you're even better-looking now. Your friends were amazed to discover what a fun guy you turned out to be, how exciting it was to hang out with you. Your girlfriend discovered all sorts of good qualities in you that she hadn't seen before. Your parents were absolutely overjoyed to see how serious and diligent their son had suddenly become. Your professors were delighted with their talented student.

And nobody knows how you make the people around you pay. And just how high the price will be for your kindness, your jokes, and your sympathy.

I closed my eyes and leaned against the moving handrail. I was tired; I was slightly drunk; I wasn't paying any attention to anything, just listening to the music.

The Dark One's gaze slid over me, moving lower, then quivered, and came to a halt.

I hadn't had any time to prepare, to change my appearance or distort my aura. I really hadn't expected the search in the metro would have started already.

A cold, piercing touch, like a gust of icy wind. The young guy was comparing me with the image that must have been distributed to all the Dark Ones in Moscow. He was working clumsily; he'd forgotten about his defenses; he didn't notice my mind slipping along the pathway cleared through the Twilight and touching his thoughts.

Joy. Delight. Rejoicing. Found. The prey. They'll give me part of the prey's power. They'll appreciate this. They'll promote me. Fame. Get my own back. They didn't appreciate me before! Now they'll understand. They'll pay.

I'd been expecting that at least somewhere in some corner of his mind there would be some other thoughts. About me being an enemy. About me killing others like him.

But no. There was nothing. He wasn't thinking of anything but himself.

I withdrew my feelers before the young magician withdrew his own clumsy ones. All right. He didn't possess any great powers; he wouldn't be able to communicate with the Day Watch from inside the metro. And he wouldn't even want to. He thought of me as a cornered animal, and not even a dangerous one¡ªa rabbit, not a wolf.

Bring it on, my young friend.

I walked out of the metro, slipped around to the side of the door, and summoned my shadow. The hazy silhouette shimmered above the ground and I stepped into it.

The Twilight.

People walking by became enveloped in a transparent haze, cars starting crawling along like tortoises, the streetlamps dimmed, their light turned gloomy and oppressive. It was quiet, all sounds reduced to a dull, barely audible rumble.

I'd made my move a bit too early; it would be a while before the magician could get back up after me... But I could feel my own power; I was pumped with it. That must have been Olga's work. While she was in my body she'd regained her former powers and filled it with energy, without using up a single drop of it. She would never even have thought of taking any, no matter how great the temptation might be.

"You'll understand for yourself where the boundary lies"¡ªthat's what I'd told Svetlana. Olga had known far better than me where the boundary lies for a long, long time.

I walked along the wall, taking a glance through the concrete at the inclined shaft and the conveyor belts of the escalators. There was a dark spot climbing upward quite rapidly: The magician was in a hurry, running up the steps, but he was still in the human world. Saving his powers. Bring it on, bring it on.

I stopped dead.

There was a small, swirling cloud skimming toward me just above the ground, a clump of mist that had assumed the form of a human figure.

An Other. A former Other.

Maybe it had been one of us. And maybe not. The Dark Ones had to go somewhere when they died. But now it was just a hazy little cloud, an eternal wanderer in the Twilight.

"Peace unto you, fallen one," I said. "Whoever you may have been."

The quivering silhouette halted in front of me. A tongue of mist freed itself from its body and extended toward me.

What did it want? The number of times inhabitants of the Twilight had tried to communicate with the living could be counted on the fingers of one hand!

The hand¡ªif it could be called a hand¡ªwas trembling. White threads of mist came away from it, dissolving in the Twilight, scattering onto the ground.

"I'm very short of time," I said. "Fallen one, no matter who you were in life, Dark or Light, peace unto you. What do you want from me?"

A gust of wind seemed to ripple through the coils of white mist. The phantom turned, and the outstretched hand¡ªI no longer had any doubt that it was a hand¡ªpointed through the Twilight toward the northeast. I followed the direction. He was pointing to a needle-slim silhouette glimmering in the sky.

"Yes, the tower, I understand! What does it mean?"

The mist started to blur and dissolve, and a moment later the Twilight around me was as empty as it usually is.

I started to shiver. The dead Other had tried to communicate with me. Was he a friend or an enemy? Had he been advising me or warning me?

There was no way to tell.

I took another look through the walls of the station building¡ªthe Dark Magician had almost reached the top of the escalator, but he was still on it. So I had a moment to try to figure out what the phantom had been trying to say. I hadn't been intending to go to the Ostankino television tower; I had a different route in mind, rather risky but innovative. So it didn't make any sense to warn me not to go to the tower.

Maybe I'd been given directions? But by whom? Friend or foe, that was the important question. I couldn't really expect all differences to be wiped out beyond the borders of life. Our dead would not abandon us in battle.

I would have to decide for myself. Only not right now.

I ran toward the entrance of the metro, taking my pistol out of my shoulder holster as I went.

Just in time: The Dark Magician came out of the doors and immediately dived into the Twilight. He made it look easy, but I saw how he managed. The auras of people near him flared up, scattering dark sparks in all directions.

If I'd been in the human world, I'd have seen people's faces distorted by a sudden pain in their hearts or emotional distress¡ªwhich is far more painful.

The Dark Magician peered around, looking for my trail. He knew how to extract power from people around him, but his general technique wasn't exactly great.

"Take it easy," I said, pressing the barrel of the pistol against the magician's spine. "Take it easy. You've already found me. And I bet you're thrilled."

I held his wrist tight with my other hand so that he couldn't make any passes. All these young magicians use a standard set of spells, the simplest and most powerful. And they require the precise coordination of both hands.

The magician's palm was suddenly damp.

"You, you..." he still couldn't believe what had happened. "You're Anton! You're outside the law!"

"Maybe so. But what good will that do you now?"

He turned his head. In the twilight his face was distorted; it had lost that attractive, genial look. He hadn't reached the stage of the complete Twilight makeover, like Zabulon, but even so, his face was no longer human. The jaw hung down too low, the mouth was wide, like a frog's, the eyes were close-set and dull.

"You're a real ugly specimen, my friend," I said, forcing the gun barrel into his back again. "This is a pistol. It's loaded with silver bullets, although that's not strictly necessary. It'll work just as well in the Twilight world as in the human one¡ªslower, but that won't save you. You'll be able to feel the bullet ripping through the skin and parting the fibers of your muscles, smashing the bone, tearing the nerves apart."

"You won't do that!"

"Why?"

"Because then there'd be no way you could beat the rap!"

"Is that right? But right now there's still some kind of chance, is there? You know, the urge to squeeze this trigger is getting stronger all the time. Let's go, scumbag."

I helped the magician along with a few kicks as I led him into the narrow passage between two trading kiosks. The thick growth of blue moss covering their walls started twitching. The Twilight flora was keen to taste our emotions¡ªmy fury and his fear¡ªbut the mindless plants had a strong instinct of self-preservation.

The Dark Magician had plenty of that too.

"Listen, what do you want from me?" he shouted. "They gave us a briefing and told us to look for you! I was only following orders! I honor the Treaty, watchman!"

"I'm not a watchman any longer!" I said, shoving him against the wall, into the tender embrace of the moss. Let it suck out a little bit of his fear, or we wouldn't be able to have a proper talk. "Who's leading the hunt?"

"The Day Watch?"

"More specifically?"

"The boss, I don't know his name."

That was almost certainly true. But I knew the name anyway.

"Were you sent to this particular station?"

He hesitated.

"Answer," I said, aiming the barrel at the magician's stomach.

"Yes."

"Alone?"

"Yes."

"That's a lie. But it's not important. What were you ordered to do you once you found me?"

"Observe."

"Another lie. But an important one this time. Think again and try a different answer."

The magician didn't say anything. The blue moss must have done too good a job.

I squeezed the trigger and the bullet sang sweetly as it traveled across the meter of space between us. The magician had enough time to see it¡ªhis eyes opened wide in terror, which made them look a bit more human¡ªand he jerked away, but too late.

"That's just a flesh wound to begin with," I said. "Not even fatal."

He writhed on the ground, pressing his hand against the ragged hole in his stomach. In the Twilight his blood was almost transparent, but maybe that was an optical illusion. Or perhaps it was a just a peculiarity of this magician.

"Answer the question!"

I swept my hand through the air and set the blue moss around us on fire. Enough already, now I was going to capitalize on fear, pain, despair. Enough mercy and compassion, enough polite conversation.

This was the Darkness, after all.

"We were ordered to report in and if possible to kill you."

"Not detain me? Just kill me?"

"Yes."

"I'll accept that answer. Your means of communication?"

"By phone, that's all."

"Let me have it."

"It's in my pocket."

"Throw it."

He reached clumsily into his pocket¡ªthe wound wasn't fatal, and the magician's resistance was still high, but the pain he was going through was hellish.

Just the kind he deserved to suffer.

"What's the number?" I asked, catching the cell phone.

"It's on the emergency call key."

I glanced at the screen.

From the first numbers, the phone could have been absolutely anywhere. It was another cell.

"Is that the field headquarters? Where is it?"

"I don't..." He paused, glancing at the pistol.

"Remember," I encouraged him.

"They told me they'd be here in five minutes."

All right!

I took a look back over my shoulder, at the needle blazing brightly in the sky. It fit perfectly.

The magician moved.

No, I hadn't deliberately provoked him by looking away. But when he took a wand out of his pocket¡ªa short, crude device he obviously hadn't made himself, some cheap trash he'd bought¡ªI felt relieved.

"Well?" I asked when he froze, not daring to raise his weapon. "Go for it!"

The young magician didn't move; he didn't say a word.

He knew if he tried to attack, I'd empty the entire clip into him. And that would be fatal. But they were probably taught how to behave in a conflict with Light Ones. So he also knew it would be hard for me to kill someone who was unarmed and defenseless.

"Stand up to me," I said. "Fight! You son of a bitch, it never bothered you to destroy people's lives or attack defenseless people before, did it? Well? Bring it on!"

The magician licked his lips¡ªhis tongue was long and slightly forked. I suddenly realized what Twilight form he would eventually assume, and I felt sick.

"I throw myself on your mercy, watchman. I demand compassion and justice."

"If I leave now, you'll be able to contact your base," I said. "We both know it. Or you'll extract enough strength from people walking by to fix yourself up and get to a phone. Isn't that right?"

The Dark One smiled and repeated.

"I demand compassion and justice, watchman!"

I tossed the pistol from one hand to the other, looking into that smirking face. They were always ready to demand. But never to give.

"I've always had problems understanding our side's dual standard of morality," I said. "It's a difficult thing to come to terms with. It only comes with time, and I haven't got much of that. Coming up with all those excuses for when you can't protect everybody. When you know that every day someone in a special department signs licenses for people to be handed over to the Dark Side. It's tough, you know."

The smile disappeared from his face. He repeated the same words, like an incantation.

"I demand compassion and justice, watchman."

"I'm not in the Watch anymore," I said.

The pistol jerked and the breech clattered slowly, lazily spitting out the cartridge cases. The bullets zipped through the air like a small swarm of angry wasps.

He screamed only once, then two bullets shattered his skull. When the pistol clicked and fell silent, I reloaded the clip slowly, mechanically.

The body on the ground in front of me was mangled and mutilated. It had already begun to emerge from the Twilight, and the Twilight mask on the young face was dissolving.

I waved my hand through the air, grasping and clutching at an imperceptible something flowing through space. The outside layer of it. A copy of the Dark Magician's human appearance.

Tomorrow they'd find him. The wonderful young man everybody loved. Brutally murdered. How much Evil had I just brought into the world? How many tears, how much bitterness and hate? Where did the chain of future events lead?

And how much Evil had I killed? How many people would live longer and better lives? How many tears would never be spilled, how much malice would never be stored? How much hate would never even be born?

Maybe I'd stepped across the barrier that should never be crossed.

And maybe I'd understood where the next boundary was, the one that had to be crossed.

I put the pistol back in its holster and left the Twilight.

The sharp needle of the Ostankino television tower was still boring into the sky.

"Now let's try playing without any rules," I said. "Without any at all."

I managed to stop a car immediately, without even giving the driver an attack of altruism. Maybe that was because now I was wearing such a very charming face, the face of the dead Dark Magician?

"Get me to the TV tower," I said as I climbed into the battered model 6 Lada. "As fast as you can, before they close the doors."

"Going out for a bit of fun?" the driver asked with a smile. He was a rather dour-looking man in glasses.

"You bet," I answered. "You bet."