After the Revolution, several attempts had been made to reeducate her… the peasants had realized she was a witch and decided to set the security police onto her. Mausers and magic, would you believe it? Magic had won out, but things couldn't go on like that forever. In 1931, Arina…

I looked up at the witch and asked, "Seriously?"

"I went into hibernation," Arina said calmly. "I realized the red plague was going to last a long time. For a number of reasons I could choose to sleep for six, eighteen, or sixty years. We witches always have to take a lot of conditions into account. Six years or eighteen was too short for the communists. I went to sleep for sixty years."

She hesitated, and then confessed, "It was here that I slept. I protected my hut as securely as I could, so that no human being or Other could come close…

Now I understood. Those were bad times. Others were killed almost as often as ordinary people. It wasn't too hard to go missing.

"And you didn't tell anyone you were sleeping here?" I asked. "None of your friends…"

Arina laughed. "If I'd told anyone, you wouldn't be here talking to me, Light One."

"Why?"

She nodded toward the bookcase. "That's my entire fortune. And it's a substantial one."

I folded up the statement and put it in my pocket. Then I said, "It is. But there's still one rare book I didn't spot there."

"Which one?" the witch asked in surprise.

"Fuaran."

Arina snorted. "Such a big boy, and you believe in fairy stories… There is no such book."

"Aha. And the little girl made up that title all on her own."

"I didn't clear her memory," Arina sighed. "Tell me, after that, what's the point in doing good deeds?"

"Where's the book?" I asked sharply.

"Third shelf down, fourth volume from the left," Arina said irritably. "Did you leave your eyes at home?"

I walked across to the bookcase and leaned down.

Fuaran.

Written in big gold letters on black leather. I took the book out and looked triumphantly at the witch.

Arina was smiling.

I looked at the title on the front cover-Fuaran-Fantasy or Fact? The word "Fuaran" was in large print, the others were smaller.

I looked at the spine… Now I saw it. The smaller letters had faded and crumbled away.

"A rare book," Arina admitted. "Thirteen copies were printed in St. Petersburg in 1913, at the printing works of His Imperial Highness. Printed properly, at night when the moon was full. I don't know how many of them have survived…"

Could a frightened little girl only have seen the word printed in big letters?

Of course she could.

"What's going to happen to me now?" Arina asked woefully. "What rights do I have?"

I sighed, sat down at the table, and leafed through the phony Fuaran. It was an interesting book, no doubt about it…

"Nothing's going to happen to you," I told her. "You helped the children. The Night Watch is grateful to you for that."

"Why do people wrong each other for no reason," the witch muttered. "You're only harming yourself…"

"In view of that fact, and also the special circumstances of your life…" I rummaged in my memory, trying to recall the paragraphs, the footnotes, and the comments. "In view of all of this, you will not suffer any punishment. There's just one question: What is your level of Power?"

"I already wrote the answer-T don't know,'" Arina answered calmly. "What instrument can you measure that with?"

"At least approximately?"

"When I went to sleep, I was on the first rank," the witch admitted with a certain pride. "But now I've probably moved beyond all the ranks."

That had to be right. That was why I hadn't been able to penetrate her illusion.

"Do you intend to work in the Day Watch?"

"What can they show me I haven't seen before?" Arina asked indignantly. "Especially since Zabulon's worked his way up to the top, hasn't he?"

"Yes, he has," I confirmed. "Why does that surprise you? Surely you don't think he isn't powerful enough?"

"He was never short of Power," Arina said, frowning. "Only he abandons his own people far too easily. His girlfriends… he never lived with any of them for more than ten years-something always happened… and the stupid young fools still kept leaping into his bed anyway. And he really hates Ukrainians and Lithuanians. When there's dirty work to be done, he calls in a brigade from Ukraine and gets them to do it for him. If someone has to take a risk, then a Lithuanian will be at the top of the list… I thought he wouldn't last in the job with habits like that." Arina suddenly laughed. "Well, obviously he's become an expert at dodging danger. Good for him."

"Yes, good for him," I said sourly. "Well then, if you're not going to work in the Day Watch structures, and you continue to live as an ordinary civilian, you are granted the right to perform certain magical actions… for personal purposes. Each year-twelve seventh-level interventions, six sixth-level interventions, three fifth-level interventions, and one fourth-level intervention. Every two years-one third-level intervention. Every four years-one second-level intervention."

I stopped.

"And first-level interventions?" Arina enquired.

"The maximum level of power permitted to Others not in service with the Watches is limited to their previous level," I commented spitefully. "If you undergo an examination and are registered as a witch beyond classification, then once every sixteen years you will be granted the right to use first-level magic. By arrangement with the Watches and the Inquisition, naturally. First-level magic is a very serious business."

The witch smirked. It was a strange kind of smirk, just like an old woman's, and it looked unpleasant on that beautiful young face.

"I'll get by without the first-level one way or another. If I understand correctly, the limitations only apply to magic directed against people?"

"Against people and Others," I confirmed. "You can do whatever you like with yourself and inanimate objects."

"Well, thanks for that, at least," Arina said. "You know, I'm sorry I tried to enchant you, Light One. You don't seem too bad. Almost like us."

That dubious compliment made me cringe.

"One more question," I said. "Who were those werewolves?"

Arina paused. Then she asked, "Why, has the law been changed?"

"What law?" I asked, trying to play the fool.

"The old law. A Dark One is not obliged to inform on a Dark One. Or a Light One on a Light One…"

"There is such a law," I admitted.

"Well then-you catch the werewolves yourself. They may be bloodthirsty fools, but I won't give them away."

She said it firmly and confidently, and I had nothing to pressure her with. She hadn't assisted the werewolves, on the contrary.

"As for the magical acts directed against me…" I thought for a moment. "Never mind, I forgive you for that."

"Just like that?" the witch asked, surprised.

"Just like that. I'm pleased I was able to resist them."

The witch snorted. "You think you resisted them, all on your own… Your wife's an enchantress. Do you think I'm blind and I can't tell that? She put a spell on you. So that no woman can seduce you."

"That's a lie," I replied calmly.

"Yes, it is," the witch admitted. "Well done. Enchantment's got nothing to do with it-it's just that you love her. Well, my greetings to your wife, and your daughter. If you happen to meet Zabulon, tell him he always was an ass and he still is."

"With pleasure," I promised. Well, good for the old witch! She wasn't afraid to badmouth Zabulon. "And what shall I tell Gesar?"

"I'm not sending him any greetings," Arina said contemptuously. "What business could a village idiot like me have with great Tibetan magicians!"

I stood there, looking at this strange woman-so beautiful in her human form, so repulsive in her true shape. A witch, a mighty witch. But I couldn't say she was spiteful or malicious-she was a jumble of just about everything.