“I don’t demolish kingdoms and unleash wars,” the Tiger said quietly. “I have seen the fall of Sumerian Kish and the long death of Uruk, the ruination of Assyria and the destruction of Babylon. I have seen great empires crumble and small states fade away. I have seen armies marching in an endless stream for three days and nights, seen cities plundered and prisoners killed. I have seen evil out of which grows good and good that is pitiless and brings death. But all of this is not I. And it is not even you, the Others, who imagine yourselves to be the shepherds of humankind. All of this is human beings. All of this is their love and hate, courage and cowardice. Are you, like Arina, concerned for the fate of your nation and your country? I have no answer for you. Just as I had no answer for Wen-yan. And no answer for Erasmus. In the end only people decide if they are going to live or die. I am an executioner. But I am not a judge. Great joy is as useful to me as great sorrow. But the joy and sorrow are chosen by people.”

“So what should I do?”

This time around the Tiger paused longer. Then he said: “I want to live. If you tell people the prophecy . . . then it will be fulfilled. That means that people don’t need magic any longer. They don’t want anyone who is different from the rest. Anyone who craves what is strange. Who pushes and pulls humanity along. Then I shall die. And I can also die if I fight your daughter.”

He paused before adding: “But there is a chance. She’s only a child and she might not be able to manage it.”

“But is there another way out?” I asked. “So that you will not die and all of us will not die . . .”

The Tiger shrugged and replied: “See how well you have already understood everything for yourself. The answer was in your question.”

I nodded.

“That’s a shame.”

We sat there in silence for a while. I smoked a second cigarette, then a third one. It was completely dark already. Darkness falls quickly in the forest; in the forest there is no twilight. A fluttering candle flame started twinkling in the window.

“I’m sorry,” the Tiger said unexpectedly.

“I’m sick of you all apologizing to me!” I howled, jumping up. “I’ve had enough of it!”

“You have to make up your mind what to do, Anton,” the Tiger said.

“Give me five minutes,” I said.

“Ten,” the Tiger said, carrying on smoking. The spot of light flared up and faded away repeatedly as I walked towards the hut.

The children were sitting, quiet and alert, at the table, on which two candles were burning. Arina was still standing at the window, gazing at the Tiger.

“Have you decided?” she asked without turning towards me.