In fact, no one tried to conceal the fact that we had been watched. As we walked in, the light-haired girl was just pouring a second glass of champagne. Arina laughed and directed my glance to the bottle with her eyes—I looked closer and realized it was the same sort that we had been served on the plane.

“Welcome to the land of Taiwan,” the dark-haired girl said, leaning towards us in a half-bow. “Have you chosen the hotel in which you will stay, venerable Great Ones?”

“The Shangri-La,” Arina replied, accepting a glass.

“Here is a card with the address, which you should show to your driver,” said the dark-haired girl, holding out a small rectangle of cardboard to the witch. “Unfortunately, not all our drivers here know English . . .”

“We are Others, and we can—” I began, astounded at the absurdity of the situation—after all, we were speaking Chinese.

“If you begin talking in Guoyu or Taiwanese, the driver will feel very awkward. The card indicates the approximate cost of the journey to the hotel in new Taiwanese dollars. If the driver demands a greater amount, pay him, and then call the phone number on the card to let us know.”

“And then what will happen?” I asked out of curiosity.

“He will be sacked,” the girl twittered. “And your money will be returned. May your stay in Taiwan be calm and joyful.”

“Do we have to fill out any forms?” I asked.

“There is no need for that, Mr. Gorodetsky,” the girl replied in Russian—and not just in Russian acquired by magical means. Her speaking voice had the very slightest hint of an accent—just enough to add a little piquancy—and perfectly clear Moscow pronunciation.

I wondered whether, if I had been from St Petersburg, I would have been met by a girl who had studied or worked there.

Feeling slightly embarrassed, I finished my champagne, took the card, bowed briefly to the girl (now where did I get manners like that?), and then Arina and I left.

“They do their job well,” Arina said approvingly.

“I like their approach to money-grabbing taxi drivers,” I said, nodding in agreement.

“Certainly. Although I should point out that frequently one taxi driver working here in Taipei feeds half of his mountain village. The temptation to rip off a tourist is very great . . . But I agree, it’s not good to abuse tourists. Especially if those tourists are us.”

“And did you notice that their level of Power was screened?” I asked. “Of course, I didn’t scan them actively . . .”

“The Light One’s Third-Level,” Arina replied as she watched out for a car. “But the Dark One’s a smart girl: she covered herself well. She had an interesting kind of amulet made of seaweed and fish skin . . . I didn’t get through her defenses either. Come on, there’s the taxi stand.”