I started to come to my senses. I needed to remember this wasn’t Russia. The Samarkand Watch didn’t come under our jurisdiction. In places like Belgorod or Omsk I could criticize and lay down the law. But the members of the Samarkand Watch didn’t have to listen to me, even though I was a Higher Light One.
“I understand. But in Moscow it could never happen…Dark Ones sitting on the other side of the wall!”
“What’s the harm in it?” Valentina Ilinichna asked in a soothing voice. “Let them sit there. I expect their job’s not too much fun either. But if anything happens, we won’t compromise on our principles. Remember when the zhodugar Aliyaapa put a hex on old Nazgul three years ago, boys?”
The boys nodded. They livened up a bit and were obviously quite ready to reminisce about this glorious adventure.
“Who was it she put the hex on?” I asked, unable to resist.
They all laughed.
“It’s a name-Nazgul. Not those Nazguls in the American movie,” Nodir explained, and his white teeth flashed as he smiled. “He’s a man. That is, he was. He died last year. He took a long time to die, and he had a young wife. So she asked a witch to sap her husband’s strength. We spotted the hex, arrested the witch, reprimanded the wife, did everything the way it’s supposed to be done. Valentina Ilinichna removed the hex, everything worked out very well. Although he was an obnoxious old man, a very bad character. Malicious, greedy, and a womanizer, even though he was old. Everybody was glad when he died. But we removed the hex, just like we’re supposed to do.”
I thought for a moment and sat down on a squeaky Viennese chair. Yes, knowledge of the Uzbek language wouldn’t have been much help to me. It wasn’t a matter of language. It was a matter of a different mind-set.
The rational explanation had calmed me down a bit. But then I spotted Valentina Ilinichna’s glance-kindly, but condescendingly, sympathetic.
“But even so, it’s not right,” I said. “Please understand, I don’t want to criticize, it’s your city, you’re responsible for maintaining order here… But it’s a bit unusual.”
“That’s because you’re closer to Europe,” Nodir explained. He couldn’t mean he believed that Uzbekistan had nothing at all to do with Europe. “But it’s all right here; when there’s peace, we can live beside each other.”
“Uh-huh,” I said. “Thank you for the explanation.”
“Have a seat at the desk,” Valentina Ilinichna said amicably. “Why are you sitting over in the corner like a stranger?”
I actually wasn’t sitting in the corner at all. Timur was finishing setting the table in the corner. The brightly colored tablecloth that had instantly transformed two office desks into one large dining table was already covered with plates of fruit: bright red and luscious green apples; black, green, yellow, and red grapes; huge pomegranates the size of small melons. And there was very appetizing-looking homemade salami, cold cuts, and hot bread cakes that must have been heated using magic. I remembered how in one rare moment of nostalgia, Gesar had started singing the praises of the bread cakes in Samarkand-how delicious they were, how they didn’t turn stale even after a week, all you had to do was warm them up, and you just kept on eating them, you couldn’t stop… At the time I had taken what he said as the standard old man’s reminiscences. The kind where they say, “The trees were bigger then, and the salami tasted better.” But now my mouth was watering and I suddenly suspected that Gesar hadn’t been exaggerating all that much.
And there were also two bottles of cognac on the table. The local kind-which frightened me a bit.
“Forgive us for laying such a simple table,” Nodir said imperturbably. “Our junior member will be back from the market soon, and we’ll dine properly. Meanwhile we can make a light start.”
I realized there was no way I was going to escape a gala dinner with abundant alcohol. And I suspected it was not only Alisher’s entirely understandable interest in his old girlfriend from school that had made him dodge an immediate visit to the Watch. It was many years since a visit by someone from Moscow had also been a visit from a superior, but even so, Moscow was still a very important center for the members of the Samarkand Watch.
“I’ve actually come here at Gesar’s request…,” I said.
I saw from their faces that my status had soared from simply important guest to quite unimaginable heights. Somewhere way out in space, where Others could not go.
“Gesar asked me to find a friend of his,” I went on. “He lives somewhere in Uzbekistan…”
There was an awkward pause.
“Anton, are you talking about the devona?” Valentina Ilinichna asked. “He went to Moscow…in ’98. And he was killed there. We thought that Gesar knew about it.”
“No, no, I’m not talking about the devona!” I protested. “Gesar asked me to find Rustam.”
The young Uzbeks exchanged glances and Valentina Ilinichna knitted her brows.
“Rustam…I’ve heard something about him. But that’s a very, very old story. Hundreds of years old, Anton.”
“He doesn’t work in the Watch,” I admitted. “And, of course, he has a different name. I think he has changed his name many times. All I know is that he is a Higher Light Magician.”
Nodir ran a hand through his coarse black hair and said firmly, “That’s very difficult, Anton-aka. We do have one Higher Magician in Uzbekistan. He works in Tashkent. But he’s young. If an old and powerful magician wishes to hide, he can always manage it. Finding him doesn’t just require someone who is powerful, it requires someone who is wise. Gesar himself should search for him. Kechrasyz, apologies, Anton-aka. We will not be able to help you.”
“We could ask Afandi,” Valentina Ilinichna said thoughtfully. “He is a weak magician and not very…not very bright. But he has a good memory, and he has lived in this world for three hundred years…”
“Afandi?” I asked cautiously, caught off guard by the name.
“He’s the fifth member of our Watch.” Valentina Ilinichna seemed a little embarrassed. “Well, you understand-seventh-level. He mostly takes care of the office and grounds. But he might just be able to help.”
“I’m almost certain he will,” I said with a nod, remembering what Nadya had said. “But where is he?”
“He should be here soon.”
There was nothing else I could do. I nodded again and walked toward the so-called simple table.
Murat got back half an hour later, carrying several full bags, and some of their contents immediately migrated to the table. He carried the rest into the small kitchen attached to the main premises of the Watch. My culinary knowledge was sufficient for me to realize that pilaf was about to be made.
And meanwhile we drank the cognac, which unexpectedly turned out to be quite good, and I tried the fruits. Valentina Ilinichna let Nodir lead the conversation. And I politely listened to the history of the Uzbek Watches from ancient mythological times to Tamburlaine, and from Tamburlaine to our own time. I won’t lie-the Light Ones here had not always lived in perfect harmony with the Dark Ones. There were plenty of grim, bloody, and terrible events. But I got the feeling that the flare-ups of hostility between the Watches in Uzbekistan were governed by laws that I knew absolutely nothing about. People could fight wars and kill one another while the Watches maintained a polite neutrality. But during Khrushchev’s time and the early years of Brezhnev’s rule, Light Ones and Dark Ones had fought one another with incredible ferocity. Three Higher Magicians had been killed at that time-two from the Day Watch and one from the Night Watch. And that war had also decimated the ranks of first-and second-level Others.
Then everything had gone quiet, as if the stagnation of the eighties also extended to the Others. And since then relations between Dark Ones and Light Ones had consisted of a rather halfhearted standoff-more jibes and taunts than genuine enmity.