equal in power. But fortunately for me, the witch had been very gentle with their minds.

I emerged from the Twilight and the air hit me like a blast from a stove. The summer had really turned out hot.

'I remember!' Ksyusha said triumphantly. 'One book was called Aliada Ansata.'

I frowned.

That book wasn't a herbarium . . . or at least it wasn't an ordinary witch's herbarium, it was particularly heinous. It even had a few vile uses for dandelions.

'And Kassagar Garsarra,' Ksyusha continued.

Some of the children giggled. But uncertainly.

'How was it written?' I asked. 'In Latin letters? You know, like English?'

'No, in Russian,' she replied. 'In really funny, old letters.'

I'd never heard of a Russian translation of that manuscript, which was extremely rare even among the Dark Ones. It couldn't be printed, the magic of the spells wouldn't be preserved. It could only be copied out by hand. And only in blood. Not the blood of a virgin or a young innocent, those were erroneous beliefs introduced later, and modern copies like that were no use at all. The Kassagar Garsarra was still believed to exist only in Arabic, Spanish, Latin and Old German. A magician who rewrote the book had to use his own blood – a separate jab for every spell. And it was a thick book . . .

And Power was lost with the blood.

It was enough to make me feel proud of Russian witches for producing even one fanatic like that.

'Is that all?' I asked

'Fuaran.'

'There's no such book, it's an invention . . .' I replied automatically: 'What did you say? Fuaran?'

'Yes, Fuaran,' Ksyusha repeated.

There wasn't really anything too horrible in that book. But in all the textbooks it was mentioned as an imaginary invention. According to legend, it contained instructions on how to turn a human child into a witch or a warlock. Detailed instructions that supposedly worked.

But that was impossible!

Wasn't it, Gesar?

'Wonderful books,' I said.

'They're books on botany, are they?' Ksyusha asked.

'Yes,' I confirmed. 'Like catalogues, kind of. Aliada Ansata tells you where to look for various kinds of herbs . . . and so on. Well, thank you, Ksyusha.'

There were interesting things going on around here! Right here, just outside Moscow, a powerful witch sitting in the dark depths of the forest . . . though hardly – it was only a small stretch of forest . . . with a library of extremely rare books on Dark magic. And sometimes she saved children from dim-witted werewolves, for which I was very grateful. But books like that were supposed to be registered on a special list – kept by both Watches and the Inquisition. Because the Power that stood behind them was immense, and dangerous.

'I owe you a chocolate bar,' I told the girl. 'You told me your story really well.'

Ksyusha didn't make any fuss, she just said 'thank you'. Then she seemed to lose all interest in the conversation.

Since the little girl was older, the witch had obviously brainwashed her more thoroughly. Only she'd forgotten about the books the witch had seen.

And that made me feel a bit less worried.

CHAPTER 2

GESAR LISTENED TO me carefully. He asked questions to clarify a few things and then said nothing, just sighed and groaned. I lounged in the hammock with the phone in my hands, telling him all the details . . . the only thing I didn't tell him was that the witch had the book Fuaran.

'Good work, Anton,' Gesar told me eventually. 'Well done. I see you remain vigilant.'

'What shall I do?' I asked.

'The witch must be found,' he said. 'She hasn't done any harm, but she has to be registered. You know, just . . . usual procedure.'

'And the werewolves?' I asked.

'Most likely a group from Moscow,' Gesar commented dryly. 'I'll order a check on all werewolves with three or more werewolf children.'

'There were only three cubs,' I reminded him.

'The werewolf might only have taken the older ones hunting,' Gesar explained. 'They usually have large families . . . Are there any suspicious holidaymakers in the village? An adult with three or more children?'

'No,' I replied regretfully. 'Sveta and I thought of that straight away . . . Anna Viktorovna is the only one who came with two, and all the rest either have no children or just one. The birth rate's critically low in Russia . . .'

'I am aware of the demographic situation, thank you,' Gesar interrupted sardonically. 'What about the locals?'

'There are some large families, but Svetlana knows all the