"Don't you get miserable here on your own, grandma?" I asked.

"Are you trying to insult me?" Arina asked in response.

"Not in the least. I have learned a few things, after all."

Arina nodded, but she didn't answer me.

"You didn't want to seduce me at all, and you don't have any desires of the flesh left," I went on. "It's not the same for witches as for enchantresses. You're an old woman and you feel like an old woman-you couldn't give a damn about men. But then, you could carry on as an old woman for another thousand years. So you were only trying to seduce me out of sporting interest."

In the blink of an eye Arina was transformed. Turned into a neat, clean old woman with ruddy cheeks and a slight stoop, bright, lively eyes, a mouth with only a few teeth missing, and tidily arranged gray hair.

"Is that better?" she asked.

"Yes, I suppose so," I said, feeling slightly sad. After all, her previous form had been very attractive.

"I used to be like this… a hundred years ago," said the witch. "And I was the way you first saw me… once. And I was so lovely at sixteen. Ah, Light One, what a happy, beautiful girl I used to be. Even if I was a witch… Do you know why and how we age?"

"I heard something about it once," I admitted.

"It's the price for moving up in rank." Once again she used the old-fashioned word that had been completely displaced in recent years by the term "level," from computer games. "A witch can stay young in body. Only then you'll be stuck on third level forever. We're more closely linked with nature, and nature doesn't like falsehood. Do you understand?"

"I understand," I said.

Arina nodded. "Well then, Light One… be glad that your wife's an enchantress. You've dealt fairly to me, I won't deny that. Would a present be all right?"

"No," I said and shook my head. "I'm on duty. And a present from a witch…"

"I understand. I don't want to give you a present. It's for your wife."

That set me back. Arina hobbled spryly across to a trunk bound with strips of iron (standing where there had been an ordinary chest of drawers before), opened the lid, and put her hands inside. A moment later she came back to me, holding a small ivory comb.

"Take it, watchman. With no spite or dark intent, not for sorrow or for care. Make me a shadow if I lie, may I be scattered in the air."

"What is it?" I asked.

"A charm." Arina wrinkled up her forehead. "What do they call them nowadays… an artifact."

"But what's it for?"

"Don't you have enough Power to see?" Arina asked slyly. "Your wife will understand. And what do you want explanations for, Light One? I'll just lie, you won't know why. If I lie, you'll believe me. You're not as powerful as I am-you know that."

I bit my tongue and said nothing. After all… I'd paid her a couple of insults. And now I'd been given the answer I deserved.

"Take it, don't be afraid," Arina repeated. "Baba Yaga might be wicked, but she helps fine young heroes."

What was my problem, really?

"It would be better if you handed over the werewolves," I said, taking the comb. "I accept your present only as an intermediary, and this gift does not impose any obligations on anyone."

"A cunning young fellow," Arina chuckled. "But as for the wolves… I'm sorry. You understand, I know you do. I won't give them away. By the way, you can take the book. Borrow it, to check. You have that right, don't you?"

It was only then I realized I was still holding Fuaran-Fantasy or Fact? in my left hand.

"For expert examination, temporarily, within the terms of my rights as a Watchman," I said glumly.

The old harridan could lead me by the nose. If she hadn't wanted me to, I wouldn't have noticed the book I'd accidentally purloined until I got home. And she would have had a perfect right to complain to the Watches about the theft of a valuable "wonder."

When I left the house, I saw the night was already pitch-black, and I had at least two or three hours of staggering through the forest ahead of me.

But the moment I stepped down from the porch, a ghostly blue light appeared in the air ahead of me. I sighed and cast a glance at the little house, with the electric light glowing brightly in its windows. Arina hadn't come out to show me the way. The blue light danced invitingly in the air.

I followed it.

And five minutes later I heard the lazy yapping of dogs.

Then only ten minutes after that, I reached the outskirts of the village.

The most annoying thing about it all was that not once in all that time did I sense the slightest trace of magic.

Chapter 4

The car in the barn had already resumed its former appearance. But I didn't dare get into the driving seat and check how the diesel engine had survived its long ordeal at the hands of the Russian farm mechanics. I walked quietly through the house and listened-my mother-in-law was already asleep in her room, but there was the faint glow of a night-light in ours.

I opened the door and went in.

"Did everything go all right?" Svetlana asked. But the way she said it, it was hardly even a question. She could sense everything perfectly well without words.

"Pretty much," I said and nodded. I looked at Nadiushka's little bed-our daughter was fast asleep. "I didn't find the werewolves. But I had a talk with the witch."

"Tell me about it," said Svetlana. She was sitting on the bed in just her nightdress, with a thick book lying beside her- Moomintrolls. Either she'd been reading to Nadya, who would listen to anything as she was falling asleep as long as it was in her mom's voice-even a list of building materials. Or she'd decided to relax in bed herself with a good book.

I took my shoes off, got undressed, lay down beside her, and started telling her everything.

Svetlana frowned a few times. And she smiled a few times, too. But when I repeated the witch's words about my wife putting a spell on me, Svetlana was genuinely upset.

"I never did," she exclaimed in a feeble voice. "Ask Gesar… He can see any spell of mine… I never even thought about doing anything of the sort."

"I know," I reassured her. "The witch admitted it was a lie."

"Actually, I did think about it," Svetlana said suddenly, with a laugh. "You can't help thinking things… but it was just a silly idea, nothing serious. When Olga and I were talking about men… a long time ago…"

"Do you miss the Watch?" I couldn't help asking.

"Yes," Svetlana admitted. "But let's not talk about that… Well done, Anton. You got to the third level of the Twilight?"

I nodded.

"First-level magician…" Svetlana said uncertainly.

"No, I know my limits," I objected. "Second. Honest second-level. That's my ceiling. And let's not talk about that either, okay?"

"Okay, let's talk about the witch," Svetlana said with a smile. "So she went into hibernation? I've heard about that, but it's still very rare. You could write an article about it."

"Who for? A newspaper? Arguments and Facts? A witch has been discovered who slept for sixty years in the forest outside Moscow?"

"For the Night Watch information bulletin," Svetlana suggested. "Anyway, we really ought to put out our own newspaper. It would have to have a different text for people… anything you like. Something narrowly specialized. The Russian Aquarium Herald, say. "How to Breed Cyclids and Set Up an Aquarium with Flowing Water in Your Apartment.'"

"How come you know about things like that?" I asked in amazement, and then stopped short. I remembered that her first husband, who I'd never even seen, was a big aquarium fan.

"I just happened to remember," Svetlana said with a frown. "But any Other, even a pretty feeble one, has to be able to see the real text."