Day Watch

I felt as if I'd been stabbed in the back. "Thank you, Zabulon," I replied. "It will be easier for me to live through all these years, knowing that my efforts were not in vain."

"All what years, Alisa?" Zabulon asked.

It was strange… we hadn't spoken at all for a whole year… I hadn't even received any orders from him in person… and now when he spoke to me, there was that cold, prickly lump in my chest again.

"The healer said it will be a long time before I can restore my Power."

Zabulon laughed. And then suddenly he reached out his hand! He patted me on the cheek… affectionately… in that old, familiar way…

"Never mind what the healer said…" Zabulon declared peaceably. "The healer has his opinion, and I have mine."

He took his hand away and I had to struggle to stop my cheek following it…

"I think no one will disagree that Alisa Do

Aha… I'd have liked to see anyone try to object! Lemesheva simply remarked cautiously, "We all made a significant effort…"

"From your condition it's not hard to see who made what kind of effort."

Zabulon went back to his desk, but he didn't sit down. He just leaned over with his hands on the desktop, looking at me. I think he was studying me closely through the Twilight.

But I couldn't sense it…

"Is everyone agreed that the Day Watch should help Alisa?" Zabulon inquired.

A glint of fury appeared in Lemesheva's eyes. The old witch had once been Zabulon's girlfriend herself. That was why she had hated me when I was in favor… and why she had become fond of me as soon as the chief turned his back on me.

"If it's a matter of help," she began, "then Karl Lvovich made a good comparison. We are prepared to share our Power with Alisa, only that would be like giving a dying person a piece of fatty bacon instead of light broth. But I am willing to try…"

Zabulon turned his head and Lemesheva shut up.

"If light broth is what is required, then she shall have light broth," he said in a very calm voice. "You can all go."

The vampire brothers were the first to jump to their feet, then the witches stood up. I started shuffling my feet about, looking for my sandals.

"Alisa, you stay, if it's no trouble," Zabulon said.

The glint in Lemesheva's eyes flared up-and then faded away. She had realized what I was still afraid to believe in.

A few moments later Zabulon and I were left alone, looking at each other without speaking. My throat was dry and my tongue wouldn't obey me. No, it couldn't be true… I shouldn't even try to deceive myself…

"How are you feeling, Alya?" Zabulon asked.

Only my mother ever calls me Alya. And Zabulon used to call me that…

"Like a squeezed lemon," I said. "Tell me, am I really such a terrible fool? Did I exhaust myself doing a job that is no use to anybody?"

"You did very well, Alya," said Zabulon.

And he smiled.

The same way he used to smile. Exactly the same way.

"But now I…" I stopped, because Zabulon took a step toward me-and I didn't need words anymore. I couldn't even get up out of the chair: I put my arms round his legs and hugged him, pressed myself against him-and burst into tears.

"Today you laid the foundation for one of our finest operations," said Zabulon. His hand was ruffling my hair, but at that moment he seemed to be somewhere very far away. Of course, a Great Magician like him could never afford to relax: He carried responsibility for the entire Day Watch of Moscow and the surrounding region, for the fates of the ordinary Dark Ones living their calm and peaceful lives. He had to fight the intrigues of the Light Ones and pay attention to people's needs… "Alisa, after your stupid trick with the Prism of Power, I decided you weren't really worthy of my attention."

"Zabulon, I was a conceited fool…" I whispered, swallowing my tears. "Forgive me. I let you down…"

"Today you made up for everything."

Zabulon lifted me up out of the armchair in a single swift movement. I stood on tiptoe, otherwise I would have been left dangling in his arms, and I remembered how astonished I had been the first time by the incredible strength of his ski

"Alisa, I'm pleased with you," he said and smiled. "And don't worry about having drained your Power. We have certain special reserves."

"Like the right to perform a sacrifice?" I asked, trying to smile.

"Yes," Zabulon nodded. "You're going on vacation, starting from today. And you'll come back better than ever."

My lips started trembling treacherously. What was happening to me? I was wailing like a hysterical child. My mascara must have run all over my face, I didn't have a single ounce of Power left…

"I want you," I whispered. "Zabulon, I've been so lonely…"

He gently took my arms away. "Afterward, Alya. When you come back. Otherwise it would be…" Zabulon smiled. "… an abuse of my official position for personal ends."

"Nobody would dare say that to you!"

Zabulon looked into my eyes for a long time. "There are some who would, Alya. Last year was a very difficult one for the Watch and there are many who would like to see me humiliated."

"Then don't do this," I said quickly. "Don't take the risk. I'll restore my own Power bit by bit…"

"No, it's the right thing to do. Don't you worry, my little girl."

My heart skipped a beat at the sound of his voice. At that calm, confident Power.

"Why would you take such a risk for me?" I whispered, not expecting any answer, but Zabulon did answer:

"Because love is also a power. A great power, and it should not be disdained."

Chapter three

–«¦»-

Life is a strange business.

A day earlier I had left my apartment, a young, healthy witch full of Power-but unhappy.

Half a day earlier I had been standing in the Watch offices, crippled, with no hope or belief in the future… How everything had changed!

"Would you like some more wine, Alisa?" asked Pavel, my escort, looking quizzically into my eyes.

"A little bit," I said, looking out of the window.

The plane had already begun its descent for the landing at Simferopol airport. The old Tupolev jet creaked as it slowly heeled over, and the passengers' faces were anxious and tense. Pavel and I were the only ones sitting there quite calmly-Zabulon himself had checked to make sure the flight was safe.

Pavel handed me a crystal wine glass. Of course, the glass hadn't come from the stewardess's standard stock, and neither had the South African sauterne that was in it. The young shape-shifter seemed to be taking his mission very seriously indeed. He was flying south for a vacation with some friends of his, but at the last minute he'd been taken off the flight to Kherson and instructed to accompany me to Simferopol. The rumors that my relationship with Zabulon had been restored had clearly already reached him.

"Why don't we drink to the chief, Alisa?" Pavel asked. He was trying so hard to ingratiate himself that it was begi

"All right," I agreed. We clinked glasses and drank. The stewardess walked past us, checking for the last time that all the seat belts were fastened, but she didn't even look at us. The spell of inattention that Pavel had cast was doing its job. Even this wretched shape-shifter could do more than I could now…

"You must admit," Pavel told me after he'd taken a sip of wine, "that the way our chief treats the staff is pretty good!"

I nodded.

"And the Light Ones…" he said, putting all the contempt he could muster into those two words, "… they're much greater individualists than we are."

"Don't overdo it," I said. "That's not really true."