What Gesar had seen two thousand years ago had made him feel fear and revulsion. But what I saw now made me feel pity and pain.

Almost all the Dark Ones who had been turned to stone by the White Mist were insane. Their reason had not been able to withstand being incarcerated in total isolation from any sense organs. The fluttering colored auras around the stones blazed with the brown and reddish-green fire of madness. If I try to think of something to compare this sight with, it looked like hundreds of total lunatics whirling around on the spot-or rather, standing there absolutely motionless, screaming, giggling, groaning, weeping, muttering, drooling, scratching their faces, or trying to poke their own eyes out.

There were only a few auras that retained some remnants of reason. Their owners were either distinguished by quite incredible willpower, or they were blazing with the thirst for revenge. There was not much madness in them, but they were overflowing with fury, hatred, and the desire to annihilate everyone and everything.

I stopped looking through the Twilight and looked at Alisher instead. The young magician was still smoking, and he hadn’t noticed that his cigarette had already burned down to the filter. He only dropped the butt when it scorched his fingers. And then he said, “The Dark Ones got what they deserved.”

“Don’t you feel any pity for them?” I asked.

“They abuse our pity.”

“But if you have no pity in you, how do we differ from them?”

“In our color,” said Alisher. He looked at Afandi and asked, “Where should we seek the Great Rustam, Afandi?”

“You have found him, Light One with a heart of stone,” Afandi replied in a quiet voice. And he turned to face us.

He had transformed with the speed of a mature shape-shifter. He was a whole head taller and much wider in the shoulders-his shirt had split and the upper button had been torn out, together with a piece of cloth. To my surprise, his skin had turned lighter, and his eyes had become bright blue. I had to remind myself that two thousand years earlier the inhabitants of this part of Asia had looked quite different from the way they did now. Nowadays a Russian will smile when someone from Central Asia tells him that his ancestors had light-brown hair and blue eyes. But there is a lot more truth in these words than modern-day Russians realize.

Rustam’s hair, however, was actually black. And of course, his Eastern origins could be seen in the features of his face.

“So you are Rustam after all,” I said, bowing my head. “Greetings, Great One! Thank you for responding to our request.”

Beside me Alisher went down on one knee, like a valorous knight in front of his lord-respectfully, but proudly.

“Afandi is not Rustam,” the ancient magician replied. His gaze was clouded, as if he were listening to someone else’s voice. “Afandi is my pupil, my friend, my guardian. I no longer live among people. My home is the Twilight. If I need to walk among mortals, I borrow his body.”

So that was it! I nodded in acknowledgment of his words and said, “You know why we have come here, Great One.”

“I do, and I would prefer not to answer Gesar’s question.”

“Gesar said that you-”

“My debt to Gesar is my debt.” A spark of fury glinted in Rustam’s eyes. “I remember our friendship and I remember our enmity. I asked him to leave the Watch. I asked him to stop the war over people. For people’s own sake. But Gesar is like this youth…” He stopped talking and looked at Alisher.

“Will you help us?” I asked.

“I will answer one question,” said Rustam. “One question. And then my debt to Gesar will be no more. Ask, but do not make any mistake.”

I almost blurted out: “Did you really know Merlin?” Oh, these sly tricks…ask one question, make three wishes…

“What is the Crown of All Things, and what is the easiest way to get it from the seventh level of the Twilight?” I asked.

A smile appeared on Rustam’s face. “You remind me of a certain man from Khorezm. A cunning merchant to whom I owed money…and I promised to grant him three wishes. He thought for a long time and said, ‘I wish to grow young again, be cured of all ailments, and become rich-that is one wish.’ No, young magician. We shall not play that game. I am not granting a wish, I am answering one question. That will be enough. Which is it that you wish to know? What the Crown of All Things is, or how to get it?”

“I really don’t want to wind up like Pandora by asking, ‘How do I open this box?’” I muttered.

Rustam laughed, and there was a hint of madness in his laugh.

But what else could you expect from a Light One who had dissolved into the Twilight and was living beside the enemies he had once condemned to eternal torment? He had fixed his own punishment, or penance, and it was slowly killing him.

“What is the Crown of All Things?” I asked.

“A spell that pierces through the Twilight and connects it with the human world,” Rustam responded instantly. “You made the right choice, young magician. The reply to the second question would have confused you.”

“Oh, no, if you’re answering one question, then answer fair and square!” I exclaimed. “Explain how this spell works and what it’s for!”

“Very well,” Rustam agreed with surprising readiness. “The strength of an Other lies in the ability to use the human Power flowing through all the levels of the Twilight. Our world is like an immense plain covered with tiny springs that give out Power but do not know how to use it. We Others are merely the channels into which this water flows from the hundreds and thousands of springs. We do not provide a drop of water to this world. But we know how to retain and use the water of other people. Our ability to accumulate that Power is the consequence of our ability to immerse ourselves in the Twilight, to break through the barriers between the levels and manipulate ever more powerful energies. The spell that was invented by the Great Merlin erases the barriers between our world and the levels of the Twilight. What do you think would happen as a result of that, young magician?”

“A catastrophe?” I guessed. “The Twilight world is different from ours. On the third level there are two moons…”

“Merlin thought otherwise,” Rustam said. He seemed quite carried away now that he had answered the question, and he was quite willing to talk. “Merlin believed that each level of the Twilight is something that didn’t happen to our world. A possibility that was never realized. A shadow cast on existence. He thought our world would not die, it would destroy the Twilight. Obliterate it, as the sunlight obliterates shadows. Power would flood the entire world, like the waters of the ocean. And under that layer of water, it would make no difference who had once been able to immerse himself in the Twilight and who had not. Others would lose their Power. Forever.”

“Is that true, Rustam?”

“Who can say?” Rustam asked, spreading his hands wide. “I answer your second question because I do not know the answer. Perhaps that is what would happen. People would not even notice the change, and Others would become ordinary people. But that is the simplest answer, and is the simple answer always right? Possibly catastrophe would await us. Two small moons colliding with one large one, blue moss starting to grow in the wheat fields…who can say, magician, who can say? Perhaps Others would grow weaker but still retain some of their Power. Or perhaps something absolutely inconceivable would happen. Something we cannot even begin to imagine. Merlin did not take the risk of using the spell. He invented it to amuse himself. He found it pleasant to think that he could change the entire world…but he did not intend to do it. And I think Merlin was right. It is not a good idea to touch what he has hidden in the Twilight.”

“But the Crown of All Things is already being hunted,” I said.