HALFWAY TO THE AIRPORT A HIGHWAY PATROL CAR PULLED OUT AND SAT on our tail. I put a spell that diverts people's attention on the Bora, and the patrolmen immediately fell back and disappeared. Others normally use that spell to protect their cars against being stolen, so I was delighted to have found a new use for it. But I soon removed it when a truck nearly flattened us a minute later.
"We'll be at the airport in fifteen or twenty minutes," Roman reported as he swung the wheel. "What will our instructions be, boss?"
Out of the corner of my eye I saw Las shake his head and take another swig. We were already out of town and hurtling along the road to the airport. A fairly decent road by Central Russian standards.
"Turn the radio on," I said. "This journey's getting a bit dreary."
Roman turned it on. He just caught the end of the news:
"... to the delight of millions of readers, whose three-year wait has finally come to an end," the presenter declared. "And in conclusion¡ªan announcement from the cosmodrome at Baikonur, where a joint Russian-American crew is already preparing for liftoff. The launch is planned for six-thirty this evening, Moscow time. And now we continue our musical..."
"Like some whisky?" Las asked.
"No, I've still got work to do."
"Alexander, pull yourself together, this is no time to be drinking," Roman barked briskly. "We've got work to do!"
This extremely amiable man, who probably couldn't even have slit a chicken's throat in real life, seemed to imagine that he was James Bond¡ªor at least his assistant.
We all have something we never got out of our systems when we were kids.
"You will guard the car," I told him. "This is a very responsible assignment. We are relying on you."
"I serve the Light!" Roman barked.
"I'd never have believed it..." Las groaned in the back seat. "Shall I guard the car too?"
"Yes." I nodded. "Only... please, please... don't try to run away."
I heard more liquid gurgling from the back seat. Maybe I ought to turn Las to the Light too? It would be more humane... the poor guy was suffering unnecessary torment.
But I had no time left to think about it¡ªthe car flew out onto the square in front of the terminal building and pulled up at the entrance with a squeal of brakes. Nobody took any notice of that¡ªsomeone was late for his flight, it happened all the time...
I took out Arina's note and looked at the compass.
The pointer was swaying, but it still indicated a definite direction.
Had Kostya sensed my approach? Gesar had been sure he would.
And what was in store for me?
Strangely enough, up until that moment, I hadn't felt any fear. In my heart of hearts I hadn't been prepared to see Kostya as an enemy¡ªand especially not the kind of enemy who might kill me. I was a second-level magician¡ªthat was already something not to be taken lightly. I had the entire might of the Night Watch behind me and now¡ªsomething quite unheard of¡ªthe might of the Day Watch as well. What could one solitary vampire possibly do to me, even if he was a Higher Vampire?
But just at that moment I recalled Witezslav's face with his fangs bared.
Kostya had killed him. Overwhelmed him.
"Las," I said curtly. "One small request... Walk behind me. At a distance. If anything happens... they'll find you afterward; tell them about it."
Las gulped, dropped the empty flask on the seat and said soberly, "I'll do it, why not? Forward, my pale-faced Blade!"
It seemed like he was past the point of worrying about anything. Getting drunk is a good way to give yourself partial protection against a vampire. They find the blood of someone who's drunk unpleasant¡ªand if he's really drunk it's toxic to them. Maybe that was why vampires had always preferred Europe to Russia?
But a vampire doesn't have to drink the blood of someone he's killed. Nourishment is one thing, but business is business.
"Don't come close," I repeated. "Keep your distance."
"Watch your back, boss," Roman told me. "Good luck! We're counting on you!"
I looked at him and remembered Zabulon's parting words.
How alike we are.
How alike all of us are¡ªOthers and people, Dark Ones and Light Ones.
"Keep it cool, no rush, no aggression," I said to myself, glancing at the men smoking at the entrance to the terminal building. Most of them were respectable types, wearing neckties. The cleaning lady in an orange jacket standing beside them and puffing away on a Prima looked absurd.
"Calmly and quietly..."
I walked toward the building. The smokers moved aside to make way¡ªthere was so much Power in me now that even ordinary people could sense it.
Sense it, and do the sensible thing¡ªmove aside.
I looked around as I went in. Las was shambling after me, smiling benignly.
Where are you, Kostya?
Where are you, Higher Vampire who has never killed anybody for the sake of Power?
Where are you, boy who dreams of becoming Lord of the World, like in some cheap Hollywood action movie?
In the same place as the vampire trying to cheat his own destiny...
I will kill you.
Not "I must kill you," not "I can kill you," not "I want to kill you." No more auxiliary verbs. I've already been through "I must"¡ªin tearful heart-searching and self-justification. I've already been through "I can"¡ªstruggling with the complexes of a third-level magician who has reached his ceiling. I've already been through "I want to"¡ªwith all those turbulent emotions: the passion, the fury, the pity.
Now I'm simply doing what I have to do.
I couldn't give a hoot for the false ideals and the fake goals, the hypocritical slogans and the two-faced principles. I don't believe in the Light or the Darkness any longer. Light is just a stream of photons. Darkness is just the absence of Light. People are our young brothers and sisters. The Others are the salt of the earth.
Where are you, Kostya Saushkin?
Whatever your goal is¡ªancient eastern artifacts or a million-strong army of Chinese magicians¡ªI won't let you win.
Where are you?
I stopped in the middle of the hall¡ªthe rather small hall of a provincial airport. I thought I could sense him...
A heavily perspiring man carrying suitcases bumped into me, apologized, and walked on. I noted his aura in passing¡ªan uninitiated Other, a Light One. He was afraid of flying but he'd arrived safely and now he'd relaxed¡ªwhich was what had made him noticeable.
I wasn't interested in that right now.
Kostya?
I swung around as if someone had called my name and stared at the door with a sign that said "Service Entrance" and a coded lock.
A melody that no one else could hear threaded itself through the hubbub of the airport.
Apparently he was calling me.
The buttons on the keypad lit up helpfully when I reached my hand out toward them. Four, three, two, one. A very cunning code...
I opened the door, looked around and nodded to Las, then closed the door behind me carefully, so that it wouldn't latch.
Empty corridors, painted a depressing green. I moved along one of them.
The melody grew stronger, swirling in the air, soaring upward and gliding back down. Like an intricate passage on a classical guitar, with the subtle notes of a violin.
This was it¡ªa genuine vampire's call, directed at me...
"I'm coming as fast as I can," I muttered, turning off toward another door with a code lock. A door banged behind me¡ªthat was Las following me in.
A new lock, a new code. Six, three, eight, one.
I opened the door, and found myself on the apron of the airport.
A round-bellied airbus was creeping slowly across the concrete. Further away a Tupolev was taxiing out to the runway, its turbines roaring.
Kostya was standing about fifteen feet away from the door, holding a neat little plastic briefcase¡ªI guessed that was where the Fuaran must be. Kostya's shirt was ripped¡ªas if at some moment it had suddenly become too small.
When he jumped off the train he must have started to transform straight away, without taking all his clothes off.
"Hi," said Kostya.
The music stopped, breaking off in mid-note.
I nodded.
"Hi. You flew here very quickly."
"Flew?" Kostya shook his head. "No... flying that kind of distance as a bat is too hard."
"Then what did you turn into? A wolf?"
This absurdly genteel conversation was summed up by a remark from Kostya. "A hare. A huge gray hare. I hopped all the way..."
I couldn't help giggling as I pictured the giant hare running through the truck gardens, forging streams in massive leaps and hopping over fences. Kostya shrugged. "Well... it really was funny. How are you feeling? I didn't hit you too hard, did I? Have you still got all your teeth?"
I tried to smile as broadly as I could.
"I'm sorry about that," said Kostya. He really did seem distressed. "That's because it was all so sudden. How did you realize I had the book? Because of the cocktail?"
"Yes. The spell requires the blood of twelve people."
"Now how did you know that?" Kostya mused. "There isn't any information available on the Fuaran... but that's not important. I have something to say to you, Anton."
"And I've got something to say to you," I said. "Turn yourself in. You can still save your own life."
"I haven't been alive for a long time," Kostya said with a smile. "I'm undead, or had you forgotten?"
"You know what I mean."
"Don't lie to me, Anton. You don't believe it yourself. I killed four Inquisitors!"
"Three," I corrected him. "Witezslav and two in the train. The third one survived."
"Big difference." Kostya frowned. "They've never forgiven anybody even for one."
"This is a special case," I said. "I'll give it to you straight. The Higher Ones are frightened. They can destroy you, but the victory will be too costly. So the Higher Ones will go for negotiations."
Kostya just stared hard at me without saying a word.
"If you give back the Fuaran and turn yourself in voluntarily, they won't touch you," I continued. "You're a law-abiding vampire. It's the book that's to blame. The balance of your mind was affected..."
Kostya shook his head. "There was nothing wrong with the balance of my mind. Edgar didn't take what Witezslav said seriously. But I believed him. I transformed and flew to the hut. Witezslav didn't suspect a trick... he started showing me the book and explaining. When I heard about the blood of twelve people, I realized this was my chance. He didn't even object to an experiment. He probably wanted to make sure the book was genuine as quickly as possible. It was only when he realized I'd become stronger than him that he dug his heels in. But by then it was too late."
"What's all this about?" I asked. "Kostya, this is insanity! Why do you want the power to rule the world?"
Kostya raised his eyebrows. He looked at me like that for a while and then laughed. "What are you talking about, Anton? What power? You don't understand a thing!"
"I understand everything," I insisted. "You're trying to get to China, right? A million magicians under your control?"
"You idiots," Kostya said in a quiet voice. "You're all idiots. There's only one thing you ever think about... Power... I don't want that kind of power! I'm a vampire! Do you understand? I'm an outcast! Worse than any of the Others! I don't want to be the most powerful outcast. I want to be ordinary! I want to be like everybody else!"
"But the Fuaran won't allow you to turn an Other into a human being..."I objected.
Kostya giggled. He shook his head. "Hello! Anton, switch your brain on. They've pumped you full of Power and sent you here to kill me, I know that. But think first, Anton! Understand what it is I want!"
The door squeaked behind me and Las came out. He gaped at me in embarrassment, then squinted at Kostya.
Kostya shook his head.
"Not a good time?" Las asked, taking in the situation. "Sorry. I'll be going..."
"Stop," Kostya said in a flat voice. "This is a very good time."
Las froze. I hadn't caught the note of command in Kostya's voice, but it must have been there.
"A natural experiment," said Kostya. "Watch how it's done..."
He shook the briefcase. The locks clicked, the briefcase opened and out flew a book, moving ponderously through the air.
The Fuaran.
The book really was bound in skin¡ªit was a grayish-yellow color, and the corners were bound in triangles of copper. In addition there was a cunning lock to prevent the book being opened.
Kostya caught the book in one hand and opened it with incredible agility¡ªas if he weren't manipulating a volume that weighed about five pounds, but simply opening a newspaper. He let go of the briefcase and it clattered against the concrete.
"Most of the stuff in here is just padding," Kostya laughed. "A record of unsuccessful experiments. The formula's at the end... it's really very simple."
With his free hand Kostya took a metal flask out of the back pocket of his jeans. He twisted off the top and poured a drop of liquid straight on to the open page.
What am I waiting for?
What is he going to do?
Everything inside me was crying out¡ªattack! While he's distracted¡ªstrike with all your Power!
But I waited, spellbound by the spectacle.
The drop of blood was disappearing from the page. Melting away, evaporating in a brown mist. And the book... the book began to sing. A strangled sound, like throat music¡ªit sounded like a human voice, but there was nothing intelligible in it.
"By the Darkness and the Light..." said Kostya, looking into the open pages. He could see something there that I couldn't.
"Om... Mrigankandata gauri... Auchitya dkhvani... By my will... Moksha gauri..."
The voice of the book¡ªI had no doubt that it was the book that was making that sound¡ªbecame louder. It drowned out Kostya's voice and the words of the spell¡ªboth the Russian ones and the other, ancient ones in which the Fuaran was written.
Kostya raised his voice¡ªas if he were trying to shout down the book.
I could only make out his last word¡ªom again.
The singing broke off on a sharp, dissonant note.