“Attack whom?” I protested. “If only we knew who it is that’s muddying the waters…”

“To attack doesn’t necessarily mean to go rushing into battle,” Olga stated didactically. “To attack also means to take actions that the enemy isn’t expecting, to disrupt his plans.”

Gesar nodded in approval.

“Then there’s only one thing we can do,” I said. “That is, apart from trying to find the traitors…but I expect the Inquisition is breaking its back on that one already. We have to break through to the seventh level. But if we can’t…the Circle of Power?”

“Zabulon also suggested a Circle of Power,” Gesar said with a nod. “But it won’t help, not even if we try by accumulating each other’s power, or the Dark Ones try by sucking each other dry…not even with a human sacrifice… The strength of barriers between the levels of the Twilight increases exponentially. We have calculated it.”

“Not even a human sacrifice?” Semyon asked in amazement.

“Not even,” Gesar said dryly.

“That little poem…on the sixth level…,” I said, looking at Gesar. “Remember, I told you about it?”

“Recite it,” Gesar said with a nod.

The Crown of All Things is here concealed. Only one step is left.

But this is a legacy for the strong or the wise-

You shall receive all and nothing, when you are able to take it.

Proceed, if you are as strong as I;

Or go back, if you are as wise as I.

Beginning and end, head and tail, all is fused in one

In the Crown of All Things. Thus are life and death inseparable.

I recited it from memory.

“And what does that give us?” Gesar asked almost jovially.

“‘Go back, if you are as wise as I,’” I repeated. “There is some kind of detour, an alternative route to the seventh level. You don’t have to go head-on at the barrier.”

Gesar nodded again. “That’s right. That’s what I hoped you’d say.”

Semyon gave me a look of sympathy. It was clear enough. In the Watch, things work like they do in the army: You suggested it, now you do it.

“Just don’t overestimate my intellectual capabilities,” I muttered. “I’ll think about it, of course. And I’ll ask Svetlana to think about it too. But so far nothing comes to mind. Maybe we should delve into the archives?”

“We will,” Gesar promised. “But there is another way to go.”

“And I’m the one who has to go there,” I said. “Am I right?”

“Anton, your daughter’s in danger,” Gesar said simply.

I shrugged. “I surrender. OK, I’m ready. Where do I go? Into the mouth of a volcano? Under the Arctic ice? Out into space?”

“You know very well that there’s nothing we can do out in space,” Gesar said with a frown. “There is one hope…not a very big one. Perhaps one of Merlin’s associates might guess what he had in mind.”

“We’d have to find a living contemporary…,” I began.

“I’m his contemporary, more or less,” Gesar said in a bored voice. “But unfortunately I was not acquainted with Merlin. Neither when he was a Light One, nor when he was a Dark One. Why are you looking at me like that? Yes, it is possible. Sometimes. For Higher Ones. That’s not the point… I hope none of you are planning to change sides?”

“Boris Ignatievich, don’t drag it out,” I said.

“Merlin was friendly…insofar as that was possible…with an Other whom I knew by the name of Rustam.”

I exchanged glances with Semyon. He shrugged. Olga looked puzzled too.

“He had many names,” Gesar continued. “He used to be in the Watch too. A very, very long time ago. He and I were friends once. We helped each other in battle many times…saved each other’s lives many times. Then we became enemies. Even though he was and still is a Light One.”

Gesar paused. It seemed as if he didn’t really want to remember all this.

“He is still alive, and he lives somewhere in Uzbekistan. I don’t know exactly where; his strength is equal to mine and he can camouflage himself. He hasn’t served in the Watch for a very long time. He is most probably living as an ordinary human being. You will have to find him, Anton. Find him and persuade him to help us.”

“Uh-huh,” I said. “ Uzbekistan? Easy as ABC. A-comb the whole place. B-winkle out a magician in hiding who’s more powerful than I am-”

“I’m not saying it’s simple,” Gesar admitted.

“And C-persuade him to help us.”

“That part’s a bit easier. The point is that he saved my life six times. But I saved his seven times.” Gesar chuckled. “He owes me. Even if he still hates me as much as he used to. If you find him, he’ll agree.”

There was no confidence in Gesar’s voice, and everyone could sense that.

“But it’s not even certain that he knows anything!” I said. “And is he still alive?”

“He was alive ten years ago,” said Gesar. “My assistant, the devona, recognized him. And he told him about his son Alisher.”

“Magnificent,” I said with a nod. “Absolutely wonderful. I suppose I have to follow tradition and set out unarmed and completely alone?”

“No. You will set out fully equipped, with a thick wad of money and a bag full of useful artifacts.”

It was several seconds before I realized that the boss was being perfectly serious.

“And not alone,” Gesar added. “Alisher will go with you. In the East, as you know, there are more important things than power and money. It is far more important for someone who is known and trusted to vouch for you.”

“Alisher too?” Ilya sighed.

“I’m sorry,” Gesar said, without even the slightest note of apology in his voice. “We must regard this as a military emergency. Especially since that’s just what it is.”

I don’t often get to go back home in the middle of the day. If you’ve been out on Watch duty, then you come home early in the morning. If you have an ordinary working day to get through, you won’t get back before seven. Even with the ability to foresee traffic jams on the roads-what good is that if the jams are everywhere?

And naturally, even without the help of magic, any wife knows that a husband doesn’t come back early from work without good reason.

“Daddy,” Nadya announced. Naturally, she was standing by the door. She can tell I’m coming just as soon as I approach the entrance to the building-that’s if she’s not busy with some important childish business of her own. If she’s feeling bored, she knows from the moment I leave the office.

I tried to pick my daughter up. But she was clearly far more interested in the cartoons on TV, a squeaky “La-la-la, la-la, la-la-la” coming from the sitting room. She had done her duty as a daughter: Daddy had been met when he came back from work and nothing interesting had been discovered in his hands or his pockets.

So little Nadya deftly slipped out of my arms and made a dash for the TV.

I took off my shoes, tossed the Autopilot magazine that I had bought on the way home onto the shoe stand, and walked through into the sitting room, patting my daughter on the head along the way. Nadya waved her arms about-I was blocking her view of the screen, on which a blue moose with only one antler was hurtling downhill on skis.

Svetlana glanced out of the kitchen and looked at me intently. She said, “Hmm!” and disappeared again.

Abandoning any attempts to fulfill my paternal functions until better times, I walked into the kitchen. Svetlana was making soup. I’ve never been able to understand why women spend so much time at the stove. What takes so long to do there? Toss the meat or the chicken into the water, switch on the burner, and it boils itself. An hour later drop in the macaroni or potatoes, add a few vegetables-and your food’s ready. Well, you mustn’t forget to salt it-that’s the most difficult part.

“Will you pack your own suitcase?” Svetlana asked without turning around.

“Did Gesar call?”

“No.”

“Did you look into the future?”

“I promised you I wouldn’t do that without permission…” Svetlana paused for a moment because I had gone up to her from behind and kissed her on the neck. “Or unless it’s absolutely necessary.”