The deva that had hunted Alisher in Samarkand was nothing like King Kong. He didn’t have the height for that, since he only stood about three meters at the withers. But the toothy, gaping jaw, muscular limbs with sharp claws, coarse dark-green fur, and brutish, flaming-orange eyes impressed me far more than the sentimental giant from the old movies.

And the movie King Kong probably never had such a repulsive, acrid smell, either. How can a golem stink when it consists of concentrated Power, not flesh, or even clay, and it has been stored in a magical vessel? I didn’t know. Maybe it was an accidental side effect. Or maybe it was a joke played by the monster’s creator?

“Go and kill it!” Edgar shouted, pointing to the snake. Kong roared and went dashing toward the snake in huge bounds. The snake slithered toward him, not at all frightened by his sudden appearance, even seeming to liven up at the prospect of a worthy opponent. The earth shuddered under their feet and coils, the monkey’s thunderous roar and the snake’s deafening hiss fusing together into a single mighty rumble.

Now was the time! While they were entranced by the prospect of the forthcoming battle.

I turned around-and froze. Standing behind me was a short old man with a beard, dressed in white. At some moments he looked absolutely real, I could count every last hair in the gray beard and gaze into the weary face furrowed with wrinkles; at others he became a hazy white shadow through which I could see the grass and the sky.

The old man slowly pointed to the ground at his feet. Then he repeated the gesture.

Did he want me to go down to the sixth level?

I mimicked the gesture and jabbed my hand downward. The old man nodded, and an expression of relief appeared on his face.

He began melting away into the air.

There was no time to hesitate. At any moment one of the Last Watch might turn around and realize that I was preparing to make my escape.

The Power is within me! I can go down to the sixth level.

The Power is within me! I can see it always.

I must do this! Therefore I will do it.

I felt a blast of icy wind.

As I stepped through the barrier I heard Arina’s voice. “Somebody really is-”

The voice fell silent, cut off at the border of the sixth level. At the border that protected the world of Others who had withdrawn.

“Thank you for coming,” the old man said. And he smiled.

Before I answered, I looked around me.

Daytime. A blue sky with white fluffy clouds and a sun. A meadow of green grass, birds twittering in the trees.

An ancient, gray-haired old man standing in front of me. His clothes had probably never been white-the coarse, grayish sackcloth had only appeared to be white at first glance. And he was barefoot, too…but the cumulative effect was not one of a pastoral, sentimental closeness to nature. He was simply a man who went barefoot, who didn’t think it was worth wasting time on making shoes.

“I greet you, Great One,” I said, bowing my head. “It is an honor for me…to see the Great Merlin.”

The old man looked into my face curiously. As if this wasn’t the first time he had seen me, but he’d never had a chance to look at me properly before.

“An honor? How much do you know of my life, Light One?”

“I know about some things,” I said with a shrug. “I know about the ship with the little children.”

“And even so it is ‘an honor’?”

“It seems to me that you have already paid for many things. And in addition, for millions of people you are a wise defender of good and justice. That also counts for something.”

“There were only nine of them…,” Merlin muttered. “Legends-they always exaggerate. The bad things, and the good things…”

“But they did exist.”

“They did,” Merlin confirmed. “Why do you think that I have already paid? Do you not like the heaven that awaits Others after death?”

Instead of answering I bent down and plucked a stalk of grass. I put it in my mouth and bit it. The juice was bitter…only not quite bitter enough. I squinted and looked at the sun. It was shining in the sky, but its light was not blinding. I clapped my hands-the sound was very slightly muted. I breathed in, filling my lungs with air-the air was fresh…and yet there was something lacking in it. It left a slight musty odor, like the one in Saushkin’s apartment…

“Everything here is not quite genuine,” I said. “It lacks life.”

“Well done,” said Merlin, nodding. “Many do not notice that straightaway. Many live here for years, or centuries, before they realize that they have been deceived.”

“Can’t you get used to it?” I asked.

Merlin smiled. “No. It is impossible to get used to this.”

“Remember the joke about the fake Christmas tree decorations, Anton?” someone asked from behind me. I looked around.

Tiger Cub was standing just five steps away.

There were many of them. Very many of them, standing there and listening to my conversation with Merlin. Igor Teplov and Alisa Donnikova-they were together, holding each other by the hand, but there was no happiness in their faces. The girl werewolf Galya was hiding her eyes. Murat from the Samarkand Watch gave me an embarrassed wave. A Dark One I had once killed by throwing him off the Ostankino Television Tower looked at me with no malice or resentment in his eyes.

There were so many. The trees prevented me from seeing just how many of them were standing there. If not for the forest, the Others would have stretched all the way back to the horizon. They had let the ones I had known come through to the front.

“Yes, Tiger Cub, I remember,” I said.

I didn’t feel any more fear or anger. Only sadness-a calm, weary sadness.

“They look so real,” Tiger Cub said and smiled. “But they bring no joy at all…”

“You’re looking good,” I muttered, for the sake of saying something at least.

Tiger Cub pensively examined her tiger-skin cape. She nodded. “I made an effort. For the sake of this meeting.”

“Hi, Igor!” I said. “Hi, Alisa!”

They nodded. Then Alisa said, “Good for you, Anton. You’re powerful. But don’t get too bigheaded, Light One! Merlin himself has been helping you.”

I looked around at the old man.

“Sometimes,” Merlin admitted tactfully. “Well…besides that outlandish tower escapade of yours. And then when you were fighting that werewolf in the forest…And only just a little bit…”

I wasn’t listening to him any longer. I was gazing around, trying to find the one whose words were most important of all to me.

Kostya pushed aside the Other he had been standing behind and came forward toward me. Of everyone there, he probably looked the best and the most absurd at the same time: He was wearing a tattered space suit that had once been white, but was now blackened and burned through in several places.

“Hello, neighbor,” he said.

“Hi, Kostya,” I replied. “I…I’ve been wanting to say something to you for a long time: Forgive me.”

He frowned. “Will you drop those Light affectations of yours…What is there to forgive?…We fought honestly, and you won honestly. Everything’s fine. I ought to have realized that you weren’t erecting the Shield because you were afraid…”

“Even so,” I said. “You know that I hate my job. I’ve turned into a small screw…a tiny part of a machine that gives no quarter and shows no mercy!”

“And how else could it be, between us?” Kostya suddenly smiled. “Drop that…And you…forgive my father. If you can. He never used to be like that.”

I nodded. “I’ll try. I really will.”

“Tell him that Mom and I are waiting for him.” Kostya paused and then added firmly, “Here.”

“I’ll tell him,” I promised, trying to spot Polina in the crowd.

Kostya suddenly took a step forward, shook my hand awkwardly-and stepped away again.

And in that brief instant when our hands touched, I felt his cold hand turn warm, saw his skin flush pink and his eyes gleam once again. Kostya stood there swaying, looking at his hand.