whispered. 'You rewrote Svetlana's Book of Destiny, didn't you?'

Gesar shook his head:

'No, Anton. Your daughter was destined to be born a Great One. All we did was make the sign more precise. We eliminated the element of chance.'

'Egor,' I reminded him. 'The boy had already become a Dark Other . . .'

'But we erased the specific quality of his initiation. Gave him a chance to choose again,' Gesar replied. 'Anton, all the interventions that we are capable of have to do only with the choice of "Dark" or "Light". But there's no way we can make the choice between "human" or "Other". No one in this world can do that.'

'Then that means we're talking about vampires,' I said. 'Supposing the Dark Ones have another vampire who's fallen in love . . .'

Gesar spread his hands helplessly:

'Could be. Then everything's more or less simple. The Dark Ones will check their riff-raff, it's in their interest as much as ours . . . And yes, by the way, they received a letter too. Exactly the same. And sent from Assol too.'

'How about the Inquisition, did they get one?'

'You get shrewder and shrewder all the time,' Gesar laughed. 'They also got one. By post. From Assol.'

Gesar was clearly hinting at something. I thought for a moment and drew yet another shrewd conclusion.

'Then the investigation is being conducted by both Watches and the Inquisition?'

There was a brief flicker of dissatisfaction in Gesar's glance.

'Yes, that's the way it is. When it's absolutely necessary, in a private capacity, it is permissible to reveal yourself as an Other to human beings. You've seen yourself . . .' he nodded towards the door through which his visitors had left. 'But that's a private matter. And the appropriate magical limitations are imposed. This situation is far worse than that. It looks as if one of the Others intends to trade in initiations.'

I imagined a vampire offering his services to rich New Russians and smiled. 'How would you like to drink the people's blood for real, my dear sir?' But then, it wasn't all about blood. Even the very weakest vampire or werewolf possesses power. They have no fear of disease. They live for a very, very long time. And their physical strength shouldn't be forgotten either – any werewolf would beat Karelin and give Tyson a good whipping. And then there was their 'animal magnetism', the 'call' that they had such complete control over. Any woman was yours for the taking, just summon her.

Of course, in reality, both vampires and werewolves were bound by numerous restrictions. Even more so than magicians – their instability required it. But did a newly initiated vampire really understand that?

'What are you smiling at?' Gesar asked.

'I just imagined an announcement in a newspaper. "I will turn you into a vampire. Safe, reliable, a hundred years' guarantee. Price by arrangement".'

Gesar nodded.

'Good thinking. I'll have the newspapers and internet notice-boards checked.'

I looked at Gesar, but I couldn't tell whether he was joking.

'I don't think there's any real danger,' I said. 'Most likely some crackpot vampire has decided to earn a bit of money. Showed some rich man a few tricks and offered to . . . er . . . bite him.'

'One bite, and all your troubles are over,' Gesar said.

Encouraged, I continued:

'Someone . . . for instance, this man's wife, found out about the terrible offer. While her husband hesitates, she decides to write to us, hoping that we'll eliminate the vampire and that her husband will remain a human being. Hence the combination of letters cut out of newspapers and the post office in Assol. A cry for help. She can't tell us openly, but she's literally begging us: Save my husband!'

'You hopeless romantic,' Gesar said disapprovingly. 'So then she takes a pair of nail scissors, and snippety-snips the letters out of the latest Pravda . . . Did she get the addresses out of the newspapers too?'

'The address of the Inquisition!' I exclaimed, suddenly realising the problem.

'Now you're thinking. Could you send a letter to the Inquisition?'

I didn't answer. I'd been put firmly in my place. Gesar had told me straight out about the letter to the Inquisition!

'In our watch I'm the only person who knows their address. In the Day Watch, I presume Zabulon is the only one. So where does that leave us, Gorodetsky?'

'You sent the letter. Or Zabulon did.'

Gesar only snorted.

'And is the Inquisition really uptight about this?' I asked.

'Uptight is putting it mildly. In itself, the attempt to trade