“I already told you—I haven’t heard the prophecy!” I replied irritably. “I haven’t heard it! And I don’t want to hear it!”

Arina walked along for a while in silence, thinking about something. Then she said: “You’ll have to listen to it. It’s important, Anton. Believe me.”

“And then the Tiger will come for me? And I’ll have to choose between revealing the prophecy to humans or dying? Thank you kindly! I’ll leave that choice to you!”

“Anton, it’s all much more complicated than you think.”

“Life is always more complicated than we imagine. Stop this! I’m sick of it, do you understand? I’m sick of deciding for other people! I’m sick of defending the Night Watch! I’m sick of fighting for good! I’m sick of everything!”

I didn’t realize at first that I was standing there shouting and the infrequent passersby were keeping well away from us. Arina stopped too and looked at me somberly. Then she said: “Anton, I understand you. And I’m not exactly overjoyed at what’s happening, either. But you must hear this prophecy. And you will hear it.”

“And how will you make that happen?” I asked. “Will you force me? Will you break your oaths again?”

“Again?” Arina asked in surprise. “I didn’t break anything. I didn’t swear that I wouldn’t purloin your trousers and the flash stick.” She giggled, then turned serious. “No, Anton, and I don’t intend to exploit your temporary helplessness to force you to listen to the prophecy. You’ll do that yourself.”

I laughed, and lengthened my stride. Arina hurried after me.

“Anton, do you remember the joke about how to make a cat lick itself under its tail?”

“No.”

“You should: it may be a child’s joke, but it demonstrates various approaches to solving a problem. As usual, representatives of three different nationalities were involved. The American hypnotized the cat. The Frenchman spent ages training it painstakingly—”

“I think it was the Chinese who trained it,” I said without stopping.

“That’s not important. And the Russian rubbed mustard on the cat, after which it started licking itself voluntarily with passion and gusto. You’ll listen to the prophecy yourself, Anton—with passion and gusto!”

“And what’s going to be the mustard?” I asked.

“Your daughter. The boy’s prophecy concerns Nadya.”

“What?” I exclaimed, looking round.

Arina spread her hands expressively.

“You heard what. And don’t look at me like that, it’s not my fault. See you, Anton! When you want to talk to me about the prophecy, summon me. Just summon me through the Twilight—I’ll hear you.”

She waved her hand to give me a glimpse of the Minoan Sphere and disappeared.

Lousy old witch, crazy senile schemer . . .

Yes, of course.

But she’d given me a good slathering of mustard. No mistaking that professional touch.