"Not even you were able to find him?" Witezslav asked suspiciously.

"Not even me. According to the documents, he had died. Of diphtheria…"

"This is a Mexican soap opera," Edgar protested, outraged. "Most Lucent Gesar, do you claim that you have never met this man?"

"Never," Gesar said sadly.

"You have never spoken to him, never, in contravention of all the rules, offered to help him become an Other?" Edgar persisted.

Gesar looked at the magician ironically.

"Esteemed Inquisitor, if anyone knows, you should, that a human being cannot become an Other."

"Answer the question," said Edgar, half asking, half ordering.

"I have never seen him, never spoken to him, and never made any promises to him. I did not send the letters to the Watches and the Inquisition. I did not ask anyone to meet with him or send those letters. The Light bears witness to my words!" Gesar rapped out. He flung out his hand-and for an instant a petal of white fire blossomed on it. "Are you casting doubt on what I say? Claiming that I am the traitor?"

Gesar had grown taller, as if some spring had straightened out inside him. You could have hammered nails into the look in his eyes.

"Are you accusing me of anything?" Gesar continued, raising his voice. "You, Edgar? Or you, Witezslav?"

Kostya was too slow to back away and he too was caught in that withering glance.

"Or you, vampire-boy?"

Even I felt like hiding. But deep in my heart I was laughing. Gesar had put one over on everyone. I didn't know how he'd managed it, but he had.

"We would not dare even to surmise such a thing, Most Lucent Gesar," said Witezslav, and he was the first to bow his head. "Edgar, your questions were phrased impolitely."

"I apologize," Edgar said, hanging his head. "Forgive me, Most Lucent Gesar. I am profoundly sorry."

Kostya was gazing around in panic. Was he waiting for Zabulon? No, that wasn't likely. On the contrary, he was hoping the Dark One's chief wouldn't turn up for his share of the taunts.

And Zabulon wouldn't turn up, I realized that. A European vampire who, for all his great power and centuries-old wisdom, had lost his touch for intrigue might fall into a trap. But Zabulon had realized right away that Gesar wouldn't leave himself open so stupidly.

"You have attacked my son," Gesar said sadly. "Who cast the spell of paralysis on him? You, Konstantin?"

"No!" Kostya exclaimed, panic-stricken.

"I did," Witezslav said dourly. "Shall I remove it?"

"Remove it?" Gesar barked. "You have used magic on my boy. Can you imagine what a shock that is, at his age? Eh? And who will he become now, after the initiation? A Dark One?"

My eyes almost popped out of my head. Kostya gave a faint squeal. Edgar clamped his jaws shut.

We must all have looked at Timur Borisovich through the Twilight at exactly the same moment.

The aura of a potential Other was quite unmistakable.

Timur Borisovich had no need to expose himself to the fangs of a vampire or a werewolf. He could become a perfectly respectable magician. Fourth or fifth-level.

Unfortunately, most likely a Dark Magician… But…

"And now what am I to do?" Gesar continued. "You have attacked my little child, frightened him, crushed his will…"

The superannuated "little child" was scrabbling feebly at his necktie, still trying to tie the Windsor knot as neatly as possible.

"Is he going to become a Dark One now?" Gesar asked indignantly. "Well? This was all specially planned, was it? Gesar's son a Dark Magician?"

"I'm sure he would have become a Dark One in any case…" said Witezslav, "With his way of life…"

"You have subdued his will, urged him toward the Darkness, and now you make claims like that?" Gesar said in a menacing whisper. "Does the Inquisition believe it has the right to violate the Treaty? Or is this a strictly personal attack… haven't you got over Karlsbad yet? We can continue this conversation, Witezslav. This may not be Krasnaya Kupal'nya, but we still have plenty of space for a duel."

Witezslav wavered for a second, trying to withstand Gesar's stare.

Then he gave in. "My apologies, Gesar. I had no idea that this man was a potential Other. Everything indicated quite the opposite… those letters…"

"And what now?" Gesar barked.

"The Inquisition acknowledges its… its haste…" Witezslav said. "The Moscow Night Watch is entitled to take this… this man under its tutelage."

"To carry out his remoralization?" Gesar asked. "To initiate him after he has turned to the Light?"

"Yes," Witezslav said in a whisper.

"Well then, let us consider this dispute settled," Gesar said with a smile, slapping Witezslav on the shoulder. "Don't be upset. We all make mistakes sometimes. The important thing is to put them right, isn't it?"

My, but that old European bloodsucker had iron self-control.

"That's right, Gesar," he said sadly.

"By the way, have you caught the renegade Other?" Gesar asked.

Witezslav shook his head.

"What's in my little boy's memory?" Gesar asked aloud. He looked at Timur Borisovich, already standing there fully dressed. "Ah… Oleg Strizhenov. A 1960s movie star. What an audacious disguise."

"So it would seem the traitor is fond of old Russian movies?" asked Witezslav.

"Indeed. Personally, I would have preferred Innokenty Smoktunovsky," Gesar replied. "Or Oleg Dal. Witezslav, this case is a dead end. The traitor hasn't left any leads."

"And you can't even imagine who he is?" Witezslav asked.

"I can imagine," Gesar said with a nod. "There are thousands of Others in Moscow. Any one of them could have assumed someone else's appearance. Does the Inquisition wish to check the memory of all the Others in the city?"

Witezslav frowned.

"No, it can't be done," Gesar agreed. "I can't even vouch for my own colleagues, and the Others who don't serve in the Watches will refuse point blank."

"We'll set an ambush," Edgar declared. "And if the traitor shows up again…"

"He won't show up," Witezslav said wearily. "He has no need to now."

Gesar smiled, looking at the gloomy vampire. Then the smile was suddenly wiped off his face.

"Now will you please leave my son's apartment? I'll be expecting you in my office to sign the report. At seven o'clock this evening."

Witezslav nodded and disappeared-only to reappear a moment later, looking slightly confused.

"On foot, on foot," Gesar said. "I've shielded off the Twilight here. Just to be on the safe side."

I trudged off after the Inquisitors and Kostya-boy, was he happy to be out of there and on his way.

"Anton," Gesar called after me. "Thank you. You did a good job. Call in to see me this evening."

I didn't answer. We walked past the bodyguards, still dead to the world, and I attentively scanned the aura of the one I'd thought seemed doubtful.

No, not an Other after all. A human being.

I'd be doubly careful about that for a long time now.

Witezslav said nothing, engrossed in thought, leaving Kostya and Edgar to fiddle with the locks. Then he cast a sideways glance in my direction and asked, "Will you offer us a cup of coffee, watchman?"

I nodded. Why not?

We'd worked together on the same job. And we'd all been duped together-no matter what token compliments Gesar might have paid me.