Chapter 16 Chapter 2

Anton loves Prague.And, he didn't understand, how could one not like it.There are cities that scare and depress from the very first moment, and there are cities that are good at capturing you gently and unconsciously.Moscow unfortunately falls into neither the former nor the latter category.But Prague is like an old and wise witch who is good at dressing herself up as young but doesn't need to be so, maintaining her beauty at any age. In fact, if you think about it - Prague should be the residence of the dark messenger.The city of Gothic architecture, the city of medieval plague monuments, the city of World War II Jewish ghettos, the city of confrontation between superpowers in the "Cold War"... ...Hey, where did all the dark messengers' nourishment medium go?Where did it all go, and why did it become memory—not hatred?

It's a mystery... Anton didn't know anyone from the Prague night watch patrol.When more detailed and accurate material is needed in the archives, he occasionally exchanges information with the correspondent by e-mail, and traditionally sends greeting cards to all the night watch patrols on Christmas and New Year... but no one has ever patrolled the night watch in Prague A comparison has been made between the night watch patrol in an American city.The former is actively composed of personnel - one hundred and thirty, the other, combat reserve personnel - seventy-six; the latter is actively composed of personnel - one other, without combat reserve personnel.

Anton came to Prague for a vacation once or twice.It's as simple and casual as going from one beer hall to another in the city, buying souvenirs on the Charles Bridge, taking time off to Karlovy Vary for a swim in the thermal pool, eating in a coffee shop Warm waffles. But now he flies to Prague for work.Yes, and what an important job it is... Anton straightened up in the economy class seat of the "Boeing 737" aircraft as far as the space allowed by the seat allowed. The "Boeing 737" was not much different from the old Soviet "Tu series" aircraft in terms of comfort.He looked at the back of Brother Legien's head.The back of the head was tense, and the bioelectric fields of these dark emissaries were full of fear and irritability.They knew that Anton was there, and they hoped to stay away from him as soon as possible...

If it weren't for the incident at the airport, Anton might even have sympathized with these stupid magicians.But an enemy you fight even once—is an enemy forever. One of the Legion brothers, the tall, strong black man, seemed to sense his thoughts, although it was beyond his reach, of course.He turned around, looked at Anton nervously, and then hurriedly looked away.Raiwo—Anton remembered his name.In terms of origin, he's from somewhere in Senegal... no, Burkina Faso, yes.Chosen by someone from the Legion family, educated to be loyal to the great Fafnir... No, what's the point of all this nonsense about the Legion brothers?

A long, long time ago, a story happened in the Other.A Darkbringer and a Lightbringer are fighting to the death.The Lightbringer's name is Sigurd... If you pronounce it according to the German taste-Kikfrit.The Darkbringer was sacrificed...and in his twilight dragon form. His name is Favrenell.Later Sigurd also sacrificed... Interestingly, did Gesar know about him? What happened next was somewhat extraordinary.The students of the Dark Mage didn't run away as usual - and didn't fight each other - it happened more often.They decided to give their ruler a new life.They merged into a sect called the Legion Brothers, almost completely withdrawing from the general struggle of light and darkness...the Lightbringers were of course very pleased with that.They carefully protected the "Spirit Claw" Kokchi who broke free from the body of the dark magician in the twilight world.The Inquisition later confiscated Kokchi Favnir - on the eve of World War II, the Lightbringer successfully protested the overpowering biological artifacts under the protection of the Darkbringer.The Legien brothers didn't seem to argue, and handed over the "Spirit Claw", leaving behind the sentence "Favnir's time has not yet come..." Suddenly, they attacked the European Court of the Inquisition!The confrontation, in which almost all the magicians of the minor sects and the lazy guards of the Inquisition were killed.Next came the absurd flight of the remnants of the sect to Moscow.

As we all know, idiots are not only found in the world... But... is it really an idiot? Anton remembered how powerful and accumulated power emanated from this "spiritual claw".This is partly the power of the Dark Mage. Others do not die like ordinary people.They lost their material shells, lost the possibility of returning to the world of ordinary people, and disappeared into the twilight world.But something remained—Anton saw vague shadows, sometimes trembling visions in the twilight world, and found the way of the dead Other.And once he even had an opportunity to deal with the dead Other... that was not the most pleasant memory.But—something remained there too...

Is it possible to resurrect the dead Other? Perhaps, somewhere, in the little-known archives, in the tightly sealed confidential documents, in the mysterious secret documents of the Night Watch and Day Watch, in the documents seized by the Inquisition .It is impossible for high-level magicians not to ask themselves such questions—where does the other go after death, and where will they themselves end up... It's just that Anton shouldn't know the answer. He glanced at the porthole, at the stretching clouds below, at the faint gleam of millions of converging lights.The plane was already flying over somewhere in Poland.

Hypothetically, Fafnir can be resurrected... So what?Even if he is a powerful magician, even if he is a super high-level magician... His resurrection will not change the overall balance of power.Besides, he's detached from human life, doesn't understand reality...and suppose he's in a daze and travels across Europe in his own twilight form - he'll be blasted to ashes by rockets, and he'll be shot hard by lasers from satellites and the indiscriminate bombing of the tactical atomic bomb...would be drowned out in similar Japanese wails for the victims and survivors of Hiroshima...

What does the dark messenger want?Disorder, panic, yelling about the Apocalypse? Anton fidgeted in his seat.He took a plastic cup and a small two-hundred-gram bottle of dry Hungarian wine from the smiling stewardess.Edgar thinks it's fine... Like all the dark emissaries, he flies in business class, so his goblet is made of crystal, and the red wine is higher... There is something in this last conjecture.Fafnir... The Apocalypse... At least Gesar got some kind of confirmation about the mass hysteria associated with around two thousand years ago.Just why would the dark emissary arrange the end of the world and everything else?Alyssa the Witch...The Stroke of Fate...

Anton regrets that he didn't bring his laptop.If you make a diagram on the screen now, sort out the plans, see what is there and how it is related to each other, there is a standard plan for counter-conspiracy, "Mazarin", it can help him figure out some things. The stroke of fate... He took a sip of the red wine - which was surprisingly pleasant, and frowned.Gesar and Zaburon are indeed the two main factors that determine the entire history.They are far more mysterious and complex than ancient biological artifacts like Stroke of Fate and Claw, or Others like Mirror and Alyssa.They, perhaps, understand what's going on... and, as usual, they try to change each other.

Gesar. Zaburon. Perhaps, it really has to be counted from the pen of fate.Gesar tries to achieve the next massive impact on the world thanks to the new great sorceress Svetlana in the Moscow Night Watch Patrol.They gave Svetlana the Pen of Fate - an ancient and powerful biological artifact capable of rewriting the Book of Fate and changing human life.At first glance, it seems that Svetlana should rewrite the fate of the other boy Yegor with an uncertain bioelectric field, turning him into either a future prophet or a ruler.But without Anton's participation, Svetlana would not have done this.She merely brought Yegor's fate into balance, excluding all influence exerted by the two patrols fighting each other. But Gesar's plan was of course multi-layered.In the first level of the plan, his long-ago girlfriend, who had been punished by the leader of the Lightbringer, and Olga, who was also a great magician, was restored to her honor, regained her magical abilities, and took advantage of all the Darkbringers in Moscow. When they all watched Svetlana, they used half of that pen of fate to rewrite someone's fate. This is the fact that Anton knows.The second level of fact. But is there a third level? Alright, this matter will have to wait for a while.what's nextAlyssa Tonikova, though not an elite, is a capable witch of the Sun Watch Patrol.After the confrontation between the Darkbringer and the Lightbringer, apparently orchestrated by Zaburon, she completely lost her magical powers.Sent to "Artek" to rest...to where Gesar sent Igor with a similar injury.There was love between them--the terrible, deadly love of the light magician and the dark witch.The result is obvious—Alyssa is dead, murdered by Igor, who himself is on the verge of ceasing to exist, bound by the broken peace and the burden of his own guilt.Plus that little boy who accidentally drowned because of his fault... This is no longer Gesar's conspiracy.It was an act of cruelty and audacity by the Patrol of the Sun Watchers.Zawulong sacrificed his girlfriend, took her as a sacrificial victim...but why?To get rid of Igor?strangeness.Anyway, the exchange is almost balanced, Alyssa Tonikova is a very strong witch. And so, conspiracy as a response to conspiracy... Now look - the appearance of the mirror.Gesar believed that the impossibility of telling him in advance meant that it was indeed accidental.But maybe either Gesar or Zaburon immediately decided to use it... in their own way. Anton yelled and cursed loudly to restrain his impulse.But there is not enough data for analysis!It's all speculation, unstudied, hypothetical... And there is not much clarity on the part of the Legins Brothers.Zaburon lured them to Moscow, where he decided to sow panic among the Night's Watch patrols?Offerings with the power of mirrors?Just one thing - the promise of resurrecting Fafnir could lead to a frenzied sneak attack on the Inquisition by dark magicians.It was understandable why the old wizards, who had seen Fafnir in person while he was alive, agreed to this - it was almost their last chance to win.It's understandable how the young magician treats this...all these Finns thrown together from Africa and Asia - they are too closed in their circles and see everything that happens as a game, not the most shameful thing offense. But what exactly does Zaburon want? No.I don't understand anything.Anton shook his head, but he couldn't figure out what happened.So... means that the assigned task should be completed.Try to save Igor. Go all out to prosecute the Day Watchers patrol team. At this point the plane has descended... The new issue of National Geographic didn't help Edgar — a fascinating article about the Italian custom of calmly throwing old items out of the house before New Years and other fascinating New Year's rituals didn't get into his head .The only conclusion Edgar draws from a few heading paragraphs is: a firm conviction not to walk the narrow old alleys of Italy before New Years. The even roar of the turbines resonates with the mind.Edgar can't help thinking again about his own task and about the status quo in the endless confrontation of light and darkness in the guise of the other. How about this.From the very beginning. Recently, the Sun Watchers Patrol Team has consolidated its position and dealt several major blows to the Light Emissary. The losses they brought to the Light Emissary cannot be made up for in a short while.It will take time, and it's not even years -- it's decades.He naturally thought of Za Wulong's steps—that is, to develop performance at the moment, and not wait until the Lightbringer regroups.To stand on the shoulders of a panic-stricken opponent and gallop to victory... At this time, after the night watchman patrol team lost a very powerful and promising female magician, what can weaken the power of the light messenger and strengthen the power of the dark messenger?Try and knock who out of the saddle? Edgar was lost in thought, regretting not bringing his laptop.He could have quickly weighed various options, selected all capable light mages one by one, and tried to find their weaknesses... There was even a special program—the Rescher program.There has never been a shortage of professional programmers, which is the wealth of the Sun Watcher Patrol. You can only count on your natural computer, which is both very powerful and imperfect at the same time. who?Gesar—clearly disappearing, he has crossed a boundary, and after crossing this boundary, the Other has become virtually invulnerable to his peers. Objectively speaking, Svetlana Nazarova should be considered as the second person in the night watchman patrol team, but she has been out of the game for a long time, so now Edgar gives the second position to either the power action The old expert, the female conspirator Olga who just returned from the state of "outside the game", either gave the first-level magician Ilya, and Edgar suspected that this was not the limit of Ilya's ability.In the future, he can be strong enough to reach the level of a great magician, but this transformation will take time and great effort.First came from the magician himself, and Ilya was still too young to deny life's many primitive, almost human pleasures. Who on earth is it?Olga or Ilya?Which of them is more vulnerable right now? Like Sylvester Stallone in the idol movie of the 1970s, Edgar lifted the small table and drew a few portraits on the napkin without haste - the silhouette of a delicate woman and a narrow face wearing glasses .Olga and Ilya?Olga.Smart, experienced, visionary, and sophisticated.Edgar did not know her exact age, but he guessed it was quite possible that Olga was at least twice his own age.Edgar didn't know her true power, never had a chance to test it and confirm it.And if I'm being honest, I don't even want to try...that would incapacitate her again, which is unquestionably complicated - people fresh out of prison value their freedom very much.Olga will think twice about taking another risk and appearing in court.Besides, she was Gesar's old lover, so the head of the Night's Watch would no doubt be working extra hard to protect her.Edgar would have avoided offending Olga if he had been in Zaburon's place, because an angry Gesar—a much more dangerous opponent than an ordinary Gesar. Edgar thoughtfully scratched his nose with the tip of a Styrofoam stylus pen, and drew a fork on the silhouette of a woman on the napkin. Ilya was a highly skilled magician with an extremely refined intellectual face who wore glasses for some reason, although he could correct his vision without trouble.Not only was he not in Moscow at this moment—he was not in Europe at all.He was somewhere in Ceylon—by the way, some of the Lightbringers from the Moscow Night Watch patrol had been visiting Ceylon suspiciously for the last five years.Interesting, what are they planning to do there? Edgar kept this matter firmly in mind—he had to pass this information to the analysis department, and let them think about it...even though this ability might be under surveillance.But what if it doesn't?If no one in Ceylon ever asked, Edgar would be a fool, blowing cold water in time is better than blowing on cold water after being scalded by milk... yes.If Zaburon intends to do something against Ilya, he may not realize his plans in Prague and in the near future.Unless I hope to lure Ilya to Prague in some way. Edgar spread out the napkin, did not scratch it, but took a clean one, the last one.He folded the paper in half, horizontally and vertically, into four, and set about drawing a portrait in each corner.At first—three, lightly outlined, but very vivid, in the quick, dynamic style of Butterstrup or Kirovoff. Perhaps Edgar had not the slightest gift for a cartoonist. Ilya, Semyon... Igor.The one charged by the court.Do you count him?Maybe, forget it, and he's the most vulnerable. Edgar thought for a while, and finished Anton Gorodecki on the fourth.The only one who is still actively using a surname for the time being.Even so, he has reached the level of a second-level magician.In other words - the same level as Edgar, albeit with less experience. Who among these people?Of course the easiest thing is to get rid of Igor.He was already standing on one foot in the dark shadow.Gorodetsky again - he also flew to Prague.But this is only the simplest of the schemes.How many options are there in total? Thinking about how many plans and arrangements there are in theory, Edgar couldn't help but feel sour.Hey, it would be nice to have a laptop with heuristic "Lescher" windows... Stop, Edgar said to himself, stop, you are a depressingly one-sided messenger of darkness! Could it be that only by dismounting one of the opponents can the power of the Darkbringer be strengthened?Why not go the other way - throwing a powerful Darkbringer into battle? But who could be added to the rare ranks of the Sun Watchers?Vidari Rogoza, whom Edgar delighted like a child in its appearance, turned out to be nothing more than a mirror.He accomplished everything that the Twilight Plane had set out to create and then disappeared forever.Looking for promising young people?We search, and we can find someone...but out of them there is no truly powerful Other, and a genius like Svetlana Nazarova, the Dark Emissary has not met for a long time. "Still on the right track," Edgar thought, and I flew to Prague.Europe's capital of death.And on Christmas Eve, at the dawn of two thousand years, when innumerable prophets and prophets terrorize the world with dire prophecies of every kind... correct!now it's right!Did Zaburon ever think about resurrecting a magician who ceased to exist?To Prague, and at what an hour!Darkness, darkness, as usual, Zawulong always hides what is on the surface very skillfully without forcing it! Edgar sighed with difficulty, grabbed the patterned napkin and stuffed it into his pocket. In this way, in the city of death art, in the terrible energy instability period, Za Wulong can try to pick out a person from the sky... Who? Come to think of it, Edgar... the answer should be on the surface, too. Let's see, what do we have?Prague, the courts, the duel between Deplov and Donikova, Gorodecki and Edgar on business trips... Alita will also fly over.Who else?Ah, by the way, and Brother Legien... stop.Stop again.Take a good break! ! ! Brother Legion!Favrenier! "We need them, Edgar," Zaburon said. "I associate certain plans with them." Favrenier! Edgar tried to maintain an appearance of calm.He put away the tray table and settled into a more comfortable seat. Favrenier!This is the one who is very, very suitable for the Darkbringer, the mighty Fafnir, the great magician, the dragon of the twilight... Mirror Rogoza, having absorbed even the slightest remnant of his power, could easily rob a sorceress like Svetlana. "If he really intends to resurrect Fafnir, Zaburon will not choose a more convenient location and time in the past, nor will he choose a more convenient place and time in the next hundred years," Edgar thought, looking at "Boeing" Looking around on the bezel of the machine. "It couldn't be easier, no..." Edgar obeyed the stewardess' eyes and fastened his seat belt.The plane starts to land. hello prague... His ears were buzzing like they were stuffed with cotton, but that didn't affect Edgar's thinking at all. That is, to restore energy.This is an operation that the Dark Ones have not carried out in fifty years.Besides, there is no possibility of taking action, because there has never been a riot of huge energy since 1933 and 1947. Why didn't Zaburon reveal anything to Edgar?Not in time?How then does Yura's reminder of caution connect?Also, how does the story of the "Artec" summer relate to this event?To know that is connected in some way, there is no doubt that there is a connection.After sacrificing the pawn, now it's the turn of the heavier pawn?Horse or Bishop—Which Piece Is Edgar?The two chariots, undoubtedly Yura and Nikolai, the Queen of Heaven—that is, Zaburon himself, the King is nothing but the defenseless and decisively dark cause. In this way, the car hinted at Edgar, the Crimea opened, and this opportunity was repeated on the ... officer.Edgar didn't know why he didn't want to be a horse.Let Anna Tikhonovna be the horse, and the slut and the scumbag will be the horse, she is just right... The plane jolted - the wheels touched the runway.One more time.Flying transformed into a quick glide over concrete, slowing down every second. Could it be that Zaburon was considering the next exchange while quietly pushing a few pawns (Brothers Leggin) to the front, hoping that if there wasn't a black queen on the board, then there would be a heavyweight rook - right? It is very wronged to act as a pawn in exchange. "What if it's an exam at the same time?" thought Edgar, "to check for lice? Alyssa lets herself eat greedily, and such pieces are not needed in Zaburon's game. But if Edgar can be safe and sound, and at the same time not destroy the boss' plan... Then, isn't that the desired result!" Just how to achieve such a result? And the object of the exchange - Anton Gorodecki is Zaburon's favorite.There was no doubt about it, and it was impossible to use him endlessly--the leader of the Day Watcher Patrol knew that very well.Besides, in fact, it may not be able to be used successfully...Zha Wulong always pretends to be calm, making things look like he deceived the magician of light... The passengers got up and headed for the exit, toward the folded gut-like corridors that Soviet citizens were not used to.Edgar took out his windbreaker and put it on.The magazine was left in the seat belt in front of the plane, and he picked up the briefcase and continued walking towards the exit. He was no longer in Russia, but in Europe, and it felt instantaneous, and it felt total and complete.Can't figure out where it shows up - in people's faces, in their clothes, in the cleanliness of airports?In thousands of details, in announcements played in Czech and English without a Ryazan accent, in much more frequent smiles, in the square in front of the airport building there are no extremely disgusting gypsies and On board the equally disgusting individual driver. However in the taxi park - lots of lovely yellow 'Opels'. The taxi driver spoke Russian, English, and his mother tongue, Czech, very smoothly.where to?go to the hotel.I thought, go to "Hilton".Wow!Not many Russians go straight to the "Hilton".If you go, there are other people: important people with golden body, with bodyguards, sitting in a limousine with a glass partition between the driver's seat and the passenger seat... But I'm not Russian, I'm Estonian.Yes, it's not the same thing now...and it wasn't - and it wasn't the same thing either.Alas, once upon a time Czechs were pretty much Russians too... This is debatable, debatable.Perhaps, is debatable. The taxi driver's small talk with Edgar put him off thinking about it, and he decided to take a break and stop thinking about it.On the day of arrival there was no real work anyway.It's time to relax - with a beer, of course. Who in a sound mind and a healthy stomach, or even a sick stomach, wouldn't drink a mug of real Czech beer? Only the dead don't. As in any "Hilton" hotel, no major problem finding vacancy, even in very touristy pre-Christmas Prague.But like in any country that has just ended socialism, it is unnaturally expensive for the non-other.Edgar was the other, so he paid the bill quickly without a frown, even though he was expected to.After all, he is still a Russian, and he doesn't look like a gangster upstart... A hundred years ago, Edgar would not have been able to resist, and would have thrown his Argentine passport in the face of the waiter, but since then Edgar has matured One hundred years.A whole hundred years. So he only used a Russian passport. At the registry—the one, not the registry for everyone—sits a dark emissary.And it's rare - magic elves.He glanced at Edgar, licked his thin lips, and opened his pupils like slits.Didn't smile until later - his teeth were small, sharp, and all triangular in shape. "Hello! Are you in court?" "yes." "Take..." He threw a blue flame to Edgar - it was a provisional registration.The fire went into the clothes easily, stamping Edgar's chest in an oval pattern that shone in the twilight. "thanks." "Punish them well in court," pleaded the magic elf, "punish hard. Now is our time..." "I will work hard." Edgar promised him with a sigh.He went upstairs to his room just to wash his face and put down his briefcase. Hey, Edgar thought buoyantly as he got off the elevator.Go to the "Black Hawk" beer hall.Of course I want to order "special pork liver"!The dish was so famous that he had even come across a description of it in a sci-fi martial arts novel he had read. While waiting for the cold dish, Edgar sipped his second glass of beer.He gulped down the first cup in one go according to the Russian habit, so he got a nod of approval from the waiter.He tried to start thinking, but something or someone got in his way. He looked up and saw Anton Gorodetsky standing by the table and staring at him. Edgar shuddered. He thought someone was following him.But Gorodetsky's eyes were full of the same bewilderment, and Edgar felt a little relieved now.By chance...just by chance. Plus - there are no more empty slots.He had to stand by Edgar's table. Giving in to the sudden impulse, Edgar nodded to the Lightbringer: "Please sit down. I'm resting. Hope you are too - fuck it, this job!" Anton hesitated for a moment, Edgar already thought he would leave immediately, but he decided to sit down anyway.He came over and sat down opposite.He cast a gloomy look at Edgar.It seemed that he did not buy into the idea that Edgar, the eternal enemy, was just resting.What did the Lightbringer say?Anyone who has ever confronted him even once—is an eternal enemy. Nonsense.Blind superstition.Edgar tended to be flexible—if it would be advantageous to form an alliance now with the man you whipped yesterday with the sabaton, why not?However, after surviving the Xiabateng, generally there is no one to form an alliance with... You can't form an alliance with the bubble, right? "Not to mention the inspection team?" Anton asked sarcastically. "Not a word," Edgar confirmed. "The two fellows were in Prague before Christmas, that's all. I ordered the 'special pork liver'. I suggest you have one too!" "Thank you, I know." Anton expressed his gratitude, still without the slightest smile, and then turned to the waiter who rushed over. No, Europeans don't understand, what is real cold, what is real winter... Anton came out of the "Male Stranska" subway station, hesitated - whether to button the collar of his coat, but still No buckle. A little bit, very little snow, up to minus two degrees. He walked slowly and calmly along the street, along the ancient barcode road.Sometimes I can't help but glance at the small souvenir shop - interesting wooden toys, oddly shaped ceramic tableware, postcards with views of Prague, football shirts with amusing inscriptions.Gotta buy something anyway.Celebrate, as they say.For example, football shirts with cute English words "Born to be crazy". There were almost three hours left before the meeting with representatives of the Inquisition.You don't even need to hail a taxi or take the subway - you can have a leisurely Chinese meal and walk to your destination.Meet under the big clock - what could be more romantic than that?What if the representative of the Inquisition was a witch, and cute, and a Lightbringer?That was downright romantic. Anton laughed at his own thoughts.He has no desire to be attracted to perform a little trick.Besides, for the judges of the Inquisition, the concepts of "bringer of light" and "bringer of darkness" are not used. Perhaps, for them, the concept of gender is not used?As far as Anton knew, a Lightbringer from Moscow named Maxim, who had participated in the investigation and became an Inquisitor, divorced his wife.It's as if, he's just grown disinterested in all these puny human follies - love, sex, jealousy.... "Black Eagle" is one of Anton's favorite small restaurants in Prague, perhaps simply because he visited it a few times when he first came to Prague.For what is happiness, the Russians don't ask much!Ok, but don't pester the service, good food, amazing beer, low prices will suffice.One last point - pretty important.Only the Dark Emissary allowed himself to ignore the amount of money. Even Rogoza, who was born in the Twilight Realm, even had his pockets full of dollar bills when he appeared in Moscow.Money can be earned honestly, but a lot of it—and that is never possible without a little game of conscience.So there is no dispute that the Night's Watch lost to the Day's Watch on this point. The street he walks on has become two, like a river formed by a few low-rise old houses left along the axis—mostly small restaurants and small souvenir shops. The "Black Hawk" restaurant is at the top of this row of old houses. Already walking into the small courtyard, Anton saw an Other, an emissary of light. No, he is not a member of a certain patrol team, but the other.An Other who prefers almost ordinary human life to the frontiers of magical warfare.A tall, well-proportioned, handsome, middle-aged man in the uniform of an American BBC officer.He was already getting ready to leave the bistro, obviously very satisfied with the time he had had, with his girlfriend, the lovely Czech girl, and with himself. He didn't notice Anton right away - because he was lost in the conversation.But when he found out, a big smile appeared on his face. Because there was nothing to do—Anton lifted his shadow from the snow-covered stone and stepped into the twilight world.Tranquility is just like a cotton tent.The world slowed down and lost its color.Some of the usually quiet, calm and peaceful bioelectric fields of people who do not carry too many extra thoughts suddenly flicker like many rainbows.This is how it is in tourist destinations. "Hello, patrol team!" The Americans greeted him happily.Here, in Twilight, there are no language problems. "Hi, Lightbringer," Anton replied, "Nice to meet you." "Are you a patrol team in Prague?" The Americans thought so.He could tell that the other party was an inspector, but he couldn't tell the details.But he is a magician with poor spells.It's about level six, and it's still the kind that relies heavily on natural magic.If he was on the patrol, he really wouldn't have much to do except sit somewhere out of the center and watch over witches and shapeshifters who were as unskilled as he was. "Moscow." "Wow! Moscow Patrol!" There was a palpable reverence in the American's voice now. "Very strong patrol. Allow a handshake." They shake hands.The American pilots seemed to view the meeting as an episode in a well-deserved evening of fun. "Air Lieutenant Christian Vanovel Jr. Sixth-rank magician. Need my help, Patrol?" The suggestion was expressed with the seriousness it deserved. “谢谢，光明使者。不，不需要帮忙。”安东同样礼貌地回答。 “现在在休假？”克里斯蒂安问。 “不。出差。但不需要帮忙。” 美国人点点头。 “我休圣诞假。我们部队驻扎在科索沃，我决定参观一下布拉格。” “是个好选择，”安东点点头，“美丽的城市。” 他不想将谈话继续下去。但是美国人充满了和善。 “绝妙的城市！好在我们在二次世界大战时拯救了它。” “是的，我们拯救了它……”安东点点头。 “您那时打过仗吗，巡查队员？” 安东想，他面前的这位可真是个弱小的魔法师。看不见现实的年龄——哪怕是最接近的…… “没有。” “我当时也太年轻了，”美国人叹了口气，“当时渴望当兵，但只有十五岁。遗憾，要是有机会在半个世纪以前到这里多好啊……” 安东差点没说出来，那时反正也没有机会——美军没有进入布拉格。不过突然为自己的想法感到惭愧。 “好了，祝成功，”美国人终于打算告别了，“我一定设法飞到莫斯科去，巡查队员！” “只要不是像去科索沃那样。”这一回安东没来得及管住自己的舌头。但是克里斯蒂安·小瓦诺维尔大尉没有生气，反而满脸微笑地说： “不，我想，不会到那一步的，不是吗？光明一定会陪伴你，巡查队员！” 安东紧跟着美国人走出黄昏界。美国人又抓着那位没发现任何异常的姑娘的手狡黠地朝安东眨了眨眼。 “好运一定会陪伴你……”安东用俄语嘟哝了一句。 真不走运……好心情仿佛一小块冰块放在烧红的锅里立刻被融化得无影无踪了。 可以上千次地对自己重复，国家之间的辩论和争吵跟光明和黑暗的事业无关。可以承认，参战的魔法师飞行员很有可能不会向和平的居民轰炸。但终究…… 他如何得以往人们的头上扔炸弹而依旧保留光明使者的身份呢？他可是光明使者啊——这不容置疑！还有，差不多人类的命运——就掌握在他的良心上。他如何得以成功地控制住不落入黄昏界中呢？要将军队，正在作战的军队和光明的事业交织在一起，这需要何种对自己的正确性坚信不移的信念啊！ 安东郁闷而压抑地走进“黑鹰”餐厅。 他一下子就看见了克里斯蒂安·小瓦诺维尔的战友们。十个人左右，都是普通人。他们坐在一张长桌后，吃着红烧牛肉块，喝着“雪碧”。 是真的，他们喝“雪碧”。 在捷克的啤酒馆里！在休假的时候！ 而且并不是为了遵守禁酒令。桌子上已有几个空啤酒瓶，是美国“布特瓦泽尔”牌的，这种啤酒安东只有在沙漠中快渴死的时候才会去喝。 安东从美国人身边走过。没有空座位，又不走运……嘿，那边有个人独个儿坐在那儿，要不，坐过去…… 坐在那儿的人抬起头——几乎是跟安东同时哆嗦了一下。 此人是埃德加尔。

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Notes: 第二部——“自己人在自己人中间”。