"And what if it hadn't been?" I asked cautiously.

"All sorts of things could have happened… But our right has been acknowledged, hasn't it? Let's go!"

In the new "high-contrast" Twilight it was much easier to move around. I raised my shadow as easily as in the ordinary world.

And found myself where only magicians beyond classification have any right to go.

The trees-if they really were trees-had disappeared. All around us the world was as level and flat as the old medieval pancake Earth, supported on the backs of three whales. Featureless terrain-an endless plain of sand… I bent down and ran a handful of the sand through my fingers. It was gray, as everything in the Twilight was supposed to be. But there were embryonic colors discernible in its grayness-smoky mother-of-pearl, colored sparks, golden grains…

"She's gotten away…" Edgar said right in my ear. He stretched out an arm that had become surprisingly long and slim.

I looked in that direction. And I saw, way off in the distance- so far away that you could only ever see that far on a flat plain- a gray silhouette dashing along at great speed. The witch was moving in immense leaps, soaring into the air and flying over the ground ten meters at a time, throwing her arms out and moving her legs in a funny sort of way-like a happy child skipping across a meadow in spring…

"She must have drunk her own potion!" I guessed. I couldn't think of any other way she could take leaps like that.

"Yes. She knew what she was doing when she brewed it," said Edgar. He swung his arm and flung something after Arina.

A string of small balls of flame went hurtling after the witch. A group fireball-a standard battle spell for the Watches-but in some special Inquisitors' version.

A few charges burst before they reached the witch. One accelerated sharply and actually reached her, connected with her back and exploded, shrouding the witch in fire. But the flames immediately went out and, without even turning around, the witch tossed something behind her-a pool of liquid that glimmered like mercury spread out at that spot. As they flew over the pool, the remaining charges lost speed and height, plunged into the liquid and disappeared.

"Witches' tricks…" Edgar said in disgust. "Anton!"

"Eh? What?" I asked, with my eyes still fixed on Arina as she disappeared into the distance.

"Time for us to be going. The Power was only granted in order to catch the witch, and the hunt's over. We'll never catch up with her."

I looked upward. The crimson cloud that had shone at the previous level of the Twilight was gone. The entire sky was glowing an even pinkish-white color.

How strange. Colors appeared again here…

"Edgar, are there any more levels?" I asked.

"There always are." Edgar was clearly starting to feel worried. "Come on, Anton! Come on, or we'll get stuck here."

He was right, the world around us was already losing contrast, wreathing itself in gray vapor. But the colors were still there- the mother-of-pearl sand and the pinkish sky…

Already feeling the cold prickling of the Twilight on my skin, I followed Edgar up to the third level. As if it had just been waiting for that moment, the world finally lost all its color and turned gray, filled with a cold, roaring wind. Holding each other's hands-not in order to exchange Power, which is almost impossible, but in order to stay on our feet-we made several attempts to return to the second level. The "trees" on all sides were breaking with a barely audible cracking sound, the witch's bivouac was tumbled over onto its side as we kept searching and searching for our shadows. I don't even remember the moment when the Twilight parted in front of me and allowed me back through into the second level, which seemed almost normal, not frightening at all…

We sat there on the clean-scraped wooden floor, breathing heavily. We were in an equally bad way, the Dark Inquisitor and the Light Watchman.

"Here." Edgar put his hand awkwardly into his pocket and fished out a block of Guardsman chocolate. "Eat that…"

"What about you?" I asked, tearing off the wrapper.

"I've got more…" Edgar rummaged in his pockets for a long time and finally found another pack of chocolate-Inspiration this time. He started unwrapping the fingers of chocolate one at a time.

We ate greedily for a while. The Twilight draws the strength out of you, and it's not just a matter of magical Power-it even affects something as banal as your blood sugar level. And that's about all we've managed to discover about the Twilight using the methods of modern science. Everything else is still as much of a mystery as ever.

"Edgar, how many levels are there to the Twilight?"

Edgar finished chewing another piece of chocolate.

"I know of five," he answered. "This is the first time I've been on the fourth."

"And what's down there, on the fifth level?"

"All I know is that it exists, watchman. No more than that. I didn't even know anything about the fourth level."

"The color came back there," I said. "It's… it's completely different. Isn't it?"

"Uh huh," Edgar mumbled. "Different. That's not for you and me to worry about, Anton. It's beyond our powers. You should be proud you've been down to the fourth. Not all first-level magicians have gone that deep."

"But you can?"

"If necessary, in the line of duty," Edgar admitted. "After all, it's not necessarily the most powerful who join the Inquisition. And we have to be able to stand up to a crazy magician beyond classification, right?"

"If Gesar or Zabulon ever go crazy, we wouldn't be able to stand up to them," I said. "We couldn't even manage the witch…"

Edgar thought for a moment and agreed that the Moscow Office of the Inquisition wasn't really up to dealing with Gesar and Zabulon. But only if they happened to violate the Treaty simultaneously. Otherwise… Gesar would be glad to help neutralize Zabulon, and Zabulon would be glad to help neutralize Gesar. That was the way the Inquisition worked.

"Now what do we do about the witch?" I asked.

"Look for her," Edgar said briskly. "I've already been in touch with my people, they'll cordon off the district. Can I count on your continued assistance?"

I thought for a moment. "No, Edgar. Arina's a Dark One. And she really did do something terrible… seventy-odd years ago. But if she was exploited by Light Ones…"

"So you're going to carry on sticking to your own side," Edgar said in disgust. "Anton, do you really not understand? There is no Light or Darkness in a pure form. Your two watches are just like the Democrats and Republicans in America. They quarrel, they argue, but in the evening they hold cocktail parties together."

"It's not evening yet."

"It's always evening," Edgar said bleakly. "Believe me, I was a law-abiding Dark One. Until I was driven into… until I left the Watch to join the Inquisition. And you know what I think now?"

"Tell me."

"Power of night and power of day-same old garbage anyway. I don't see any difference between Zabulon and Gesar any more. But you, I like… as a human being. If you joined the Inquisition, I'd be glad to work with you."

I laughed. "Trying to recruit me?"

"Yes, any watchman has the right to join the Inquisition. No one has any right to hold you back. They don't even have any right to try to change your mind."

"Thanks, but I don't need to have my mind changed. I'm not planning to join the Inquisition."

Edgar groaned as he got up off the floor. He dusted off his suit-although there wasn't a single speck of dust or a crease anywhere on it.

"That suit of yours is enchanted," I said.

"I just know how to wear it. And it's good material." Edgar went over to the bookcase, took out a book, and leafed through it. Then another, and another… He said enviously, "What a library! Narrowly specialized, but even so…"