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We belonged to an exotic subspecies of the second category- we had absolutely no baggage at all, and our
overall appearance was pretty strange, but it inspired respect.
On the platform the pointer started spinning again-we were already close to the book.
"He's trying to get away," Zabulon declared grandly. "All right . . . now let's see which trains are leaving ..."
The Dark One's gaze clouded over-he was forecasting the future, looking to see which train would leave the
platform first.
I looked up at the information board hanging in the air behind us. "The Moscow-Almaty train is about to leave. In
five minutes, from platform two."
Zabulon returned from his prophetic travels and announced, "The train to Kazakhstan from platform two. In five
minutes."
He looked very pleased with himself.
Kostya snickered very quietly.
Gesar looked up ostentatiously at the information board and nodded.
"Yes, you're right, Zabulon ... And the next one's not for half an hour."
"We'll stop the train and comb all the cars," Edgar suggested quickly. "Right?"
"Will your underlings be able to find the Other?" Gesar asked. "If he's disguised? If he's a magician beyond
classification?"
Edgar wilted before our eyes. He shook his head.
"That's the point," Gesar said with a nod. "The Fuaran was in the station. It was in the station, and we couldn't
find the book or the criminal. What makes you think it will be any easier on the train?"
"If he's on the train," said Zabulon, "the easiest thing to do is destroy the train. No more problem."
There was silence.
Gesar shook his head.
"I know, I know, it's a disagreeable solution," Zabulon acknowledged. "Even I don't like the idea of a thousand
lives simply wasted . . . But what other choice do we have?"
"What do you suggest, Great One?" asked Edgar.
"If," said Zabulon, emphasizing the word, "the Fuaran really is on the train, we have to wait for a moment when
the train reaches an unpopulated area. The Kazakh steppes would suit perfectly. And after that... follow the plans
that the Inquisition has for such situations."
Edgar gave a nervous jerk of his head and, as always happened when he was agitated, he started speaking with
a slight Baltic accent. "That is not a good solution, Great One. And I cannot approve it on my own-the sanction of
the Tribunal is required."
Zabulon shrugged, his entire manner indicating that all he could do was make suggestions.
"In any case, we have to be certain that the book is on the train," said Gesar. "I suggest..." he looked at me and
gave a barely perceptible nod. "I suggest that Anton from the Night
Watch, Konstantin from the Day Watch, and someone from the Inquisition should get on the train. To check it
out. We don't need a big group for that. We'll arrive in the morning and decide what to do next."
"Off you go, Kostya," Zabulon said affectionately, slapping the young vampire on the shoulder. "Gesar's talking
good sense. Good company, a long journey, an interesting job- you'll enjoy it."
The mocking glance in my direction was almost too fast to catch.
"That . . . buys us time," Edgar agreed. "I'll go myself. And I'll take my colleagues with me. All of them."
"Only one minute left," Olga said quietly. "If you've made up your minds-better get moving."
Edgar waved to his team and we ran to the train. Edgar said something to the conductor of the front car-a young
Kazakh with a moustache-and the conductor's face suddenly went slack, assuming an expression that was
sleepy and happy at the same time. He moved aside to let us in. We crowded into the little lobby at the end of
the car. I looked out-Zabulon, Gesar, and Olga were standing on the platform, watching us leave. Olga was
saying something in a quiet voice.
"In the situation that has arisen, I'll assume overall control," Edgar declared. "Any objections?"
I glanced at the six Inquisitors standing behind his back and said nothing. But Kostya couldn't restrain himself.
"That depends on what kind of orders you give. I only acknowledge the authority of the Day Watch."
"I repeat-I am in charge of the operation," Edgar said coolly. "If you don't agree, then you can get out."
Kostya hesitated for a second-and then lowered his head. "My apologies, Inquisitor. It was a poor joke. Of course
you are in charge. But if necessary I will contact my superior."
"First you'll jump to attention and then ask permission." Edgar was determined to cross all the t's and dot all the
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i's.
"Very well," Kostya said and nodded. "My apologies, Inquisitor."
And that put an end to the incipient rebellion. Edgar nodded, stuck his head out of the lobby and called the
conductor over.
"When are we starting?"
"Right away!" the conductor replied, gazing at the Inquisitor with all the adoration of a devoted dog. "Right away. I
have to get in."
"Well get in, then," said Edgar, moving out of the way.
The conductor climbed into the little lobby, still wearing that expression of joyful submission. The train began
slowly pulling away. The conductor stood beside the open door, swaying slightly.
"What's your name?" asked Edgar.
"Askhat. Askhat Kurmangaliev."
"Close the door. Do your job according to your instructions." Edgar frowned. "We are your best friends. We are
your guests. You have to find places on the train for us. Do you understand?"
The door clattered shut. The conductor locked it with his key and stood at attention in front of Edgar again.
"I understand. We need to go to the captain of the train. I don't have enough free places. Only four."
"Let's go see the captain," Edgar agreed. "Anton, what's the compass doing?"
I lifted up the note and looked at the Twilight compass.
The pointer was spinning idly.
"Looks like the book's on the train."
"We'll wait a bit to make sure," Edgar decided.
We traveled half a mile or so from the station, but the pointer carried on spinning. Whoever the thief was, he was
traveling with us.
"He's on the train, the son of a bitch," said Edgar. "Wait for me here. I'll go see the captain-we need to get
ourselves places somewhere."
He went out into the corridor with the conductor, who was still smiling contentedly. A second conductor spotted
his partner and said something very quickly in Kazakh, waving his arms about indignantly-but then he caught
Edgar's glance and fell silent.
"Might as well hang signs around our necks-'We're Others!'" said Kostya. "What's he doing? If there really is a
Higher Other on the train-he'll sense the magic ..."
Kostya was right. It would have been far better to make do with money-it has a magic that works just as well with
people. But Edgar was probably feeling too nervous . . .
"Can you sense any magic?" one of the junior Inquisitors asked unexpectedly.
Kostya turned toward him, perplexed. He shook his head.
"And neither will anybody else. Edgar has an amulet of subjection. It only works at close range."
"Inquisitor's tricks..." Kostya muttered, clearly nettled. "Even so, it would be better to keep our heads down.
Right, Anton?"
I nodded reluctantly.
Edgar came back after about twenty minutes. I didn't bother to ask how he'd dealt with the captain of the train, by
giving him money or-more likely-using his mysterious amulet of subjection again. He had a calm, contented
expression on his face.
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