“Destroy the chalice,” Olga said firmly. “Anton, don’t play games with prophecies. It’s a good thing that Kesha’s prophecy turned out to be so vague—incredibly vague, if you ask me. But any prophecy is potentially dangerous.”

I wasn’t surprised that Gesar had already shared his information with her. Or that Olga had immediately come to me and was concerned for my safety: that was in her nature. But there was something bothering me. Something wasn’t right. But Olga gave me a demanding look and I nodded reluctantly.

“All right.”

“Today.”

“All right.”

“I feel like I ought to keep tabs on you, Anton.”

“Olga, I swear. I’ll go back home today and destroy the chalice.”

She looked into my eyes and nodded, reassured.

“Thank you. Maybe everything will be all right. Probably it was wrong—” she said, and stopped.

“What was wrong?” I asked. “You mean it was wrong of Gesar and you to think up that trick with the Chalk of Destiny? Wrong to turn my daughter into a Zero-Level Enchantress?”

“Who could tell then that she would be yours . . .” Olga replied somberly.

“Why did you need to do it at all? A massive shift like that in the balance between the Watches . . . I can just imagine the kind of concessions it cost.”

“Let’s just say we did it on credit,” Olga said casually.

“Meaning?”

“We’ll be settling up with the Dark Ones for fifty years.”

I didn’t say anything to that.

“I suppose it would be pointless to ask what the Dark Ones were granted the right to in exchange for Nadya’s appearance?”

“Absolutely pointless,” Olga replied sharply. “Let’s just drop the subject.”

“But why? What did you need to do it for? A Zero-Level Enchantress is a violation of the equilibrium, a disruption of the balance, it . . . it’s like an atomic weapon that’s made in order not to be used . . .”

I understood the whole thing myself before I’d even finished speaking.

“It’s not against the Dark Ones, is it?” I asked Olga. “That’s why Zabulon agreed . . . that’s why the Inquisition turned a blind eye . . .”

For a long moment Olga didn’t answer. The dead cigarette end trembled in her fingers.