"If I don't have to transform any more-tomorrow evening." Kostya waved the flask through the air, making a heavy splashing sound. "I've got enough left for breakfast."

"I could… in view of the special circumstances…" Edgar paused and cast a sideways glance at me. "I could issue you a license."

"No," I said quickly. "That's a breach of established procedure."

"Konstantin is on active service with the Inquisition at present," Edgar reminded me. "The Light Ones would receive compensation."

"No," I repeated.

"He has to nourish himself somehow. And the people in the train are probably doomed anyway. Every last one of them."

Kostya said nothing, looking at me. Without smiling, a serious, intent kind of look…

"Then I'll get off the train," I said. "And you can do whatever you like."

"I recognize the Night Watch style," Kostya said in a quiet voice. "Washing your hands of the whole business. That's the way you always act. You give us the people yourselves, and then you turn your noses up in contempt."

"Quiet!" Edgar barked, getting up and standing between us. "Quiet, both of you. This is no time for squabbling. Kostya, do you need a license? Or can you hold out?"

Kostya shook his head. "I don't need a license. While we're stopped somewhere in Tambov I'll get out and catch a couple of cats."

"Why cats?" Edgar asked curiously. "Why… er… not dogs, for instance?"

"I feel sorry for dogs," Kostya explained. "Cats too… but where am I going to find a cow or a sheep in Tambov? And the train doesn't stop for long at the small stations."

"We'll get you a ram in Tambov," Edgar promised. "There's no point in helping spread mystical rumors. That's how it all begins-they find the bodies of animals drained of blood, write their articles for the gutter press…"

He took out his cell phone and selected a number from its address book. He had to wait a long time before someone who had been sleeping peacefully answered.

"Dmitry? Stop whining, this is no time for sleeping, the motherland calls…" Edgar squinted at us and said in a clear voice: "Greetings from Solomon, with all the signatures and seals."

Edgar stopped talking for a while, either allowing the man to gather his wits or listening to his reply.

"Yes. Edgar. Remember now? Precisely so," said Edgar. "We haven't forgotten about you. And we need your help. In four hours the Moscow-Almaty train will stop in Tambov. We need a ram. What?"

Taking the phone away from his face and covering the microphone with his hand, Edgar said angrily, "What stupid asses they are, these human personnel."

"An ass would suit me fine too," Kostya chuckled.

Edgar spoke into the phone again. "No, not you. It has to be a ram. You know, the animal. Or an ordinary sheep. Or a cow. That doesn't bother me. In four hours, be standing near the station with the animal. No, a dog's no good! Because it's no good! No, no one's going to eat it. You can keep the meat and the skin. Right, I'll call you when we get there."

Edgar put his cell away. "We have a very limited… contingent… in Tambov. There aren't any Others there at the moment, only a human member of staff."

"Oh." That was my only comment. There had never been any humans in the Watches.

"Sometimes it's unavoidable," Edgar explained vaguely. "Never mind, he'll manage it. He's paid for it. You'll get your ram, Kostya."

"Thanks," Kostya replied amicably. "A sheep would be better, of course. But a ram will do the job too."

"Is the gastronomical discussion over now?" I asked sarcastically.

Edgar turned to me and said in a didactic tone, "Our battle-readiness is a matter of great importance… So, you tell us that this… Las… has been influenced by magic?"

"That's right. This morning. The desire to travel to Alma-Ata by train was implanted in his mind."

"It makes sense," Edgar agreed. "If you hadn't discovered the trace, we'd have put serious effort into this guy. And wasted a bundle of time and energy. But that means…"

"That the perpetrator is intimately familiar with the affairs of the Watches," I said with a nod. "He's in the know about the investigation at the Assol complex, he knows who was under suspicion. In other words…"

"Someone from the very top," Edgar agreed. "Five or six Others in the Night Watch, the same number in the Day Watch. Let's say twenty altogether, at most… Even so, it's not many, not many at all."

"Or someone from the Inquisition," said Kostya.

"Okay. A name, brother, a name." Edgar laughed. "Who?"

"Witezslav." Kostya paused for a second. "For instance."

For a few seconds I thought the Dark Magician, usually so imperturbable, was about to let rip and swear obscenely. And definitely in a Baltic accent. But Edgar restrained himself. "Maybe you're feeling a bit tired after the transformation, Konstantin?" he asked. "Maybe it's time to go night night?"

"Edgar, I'm younger than you, but we're both babes in arms compared to Witezslav," Kostya replied calmly. "What did we see? Clothes filled with dust. Did we personally analyze that dust?"

Edgar didn't answer that.

"I'm not sure you can tell anything from the remains of a vampire…" I put in.

"Why would Witezslav…" Edgar began.

"Power," Kostya answered laconically.

"What's power got to do with it? If he'd decided to steal the book, why report that he'd found it? He could have just taken it and slipped away. He was alone when he found it! Do you understand that? Alone!"

"He might not have realized immediately what he was dealing with," Kostya parried. "Or decided not to steal it right away. But to fake his own death and bolt with the book while we're trying to catch his killer is a brilliant move!"

Edgar started breathing faster. He nodded. "All right. I'll ask them to check it. I'll get in touch with… with the Higher Ones in Moscow and ask them to check the remains."

"Just to be sure, ask Gesar and Zabulon both to check the remains," Kostya advised him. "We can't be sure one of them isn't involved."

"Don't teach your granddad how to make children…" Edgar growled. He settled down more comfortably on the bunk-and switched off.

Gesar and Zabulon weren't going to get a good night's sleep either…

I yawned and said, "Gentlemen, I don't know about you, but I'm going to sleep."

Edgar didn't answer-he was engaged in mental conversation with one of the Great Ones. Kostya nodded and climbed under his own blanket.

I climbed up onto the top bunk, undressed, and shoved my jeans and shirt onto the shelf. I took off my watch and put it beside me-I don't like sleeping with my watch on. Below me, Kostya clicked the switch of the night lamp and it went dark.

Edgar sat there without moving. The wheels hammered reassuringly. They say that in America, where they use incredibly long rails cast in one piece, they make special notches in them to imitate the joints and recreate that comforting rhythm of the wheels…

I couldn't sleep.

Someone had killed a Higher Vampire. Or the vampire himself had faked his own death. It didn't matter which. In any case, someone was in possession of unimaginable Power.

Why would he run? Why hide on a train-with the risk that the entire train would be destroyed or, for instance, surrounded by hundreds of Others and subjected to an exhaustive search? It was stupid, unnecessary, risky. He had become the most powerful Other of all-sooner or later Power would come to him. In a hundred years, or two hundred-when everybody would have forgotten about the witch Arina and the mythical book. If anybody would have understood all that, Witezslav would.

It was… it was too human, somehow. Messy and illogical. Nothing like the way a wise and powerful Other would have acted.

But only an Other like that could possibly have killed Witezslav.