“If he’d been a Battle Magician, I would have laid claim to him all right,” Zabulon chuckled. “The boy isn’t ours, of course, but there are always opportunities . . . . And if he’d been a Clairvoyant, I’d have fought for him then. But a Prophet? No, thank you.”

“You value a Clairvoyant more than a Prophet?” I asked, amazed.

“Of course. A Clairvoyant speaks of what might happen—and the future can be changed. A Prophet pronounces the Truth. That which is inevitable. Why would we want to know the inevitable, Anton? If the inevitable is bad, there’s no point in upsetting yourself sooner than necessary. And if it’s good—then let it come as a pleasant surprise. With great wisdom comes great sorrow.” Zabulon looked at the cigarette in his hand. “Be seeing you, Light One . . .”

The cigarette flared up in his fingers with a somber crimson flame. The fire leapt onto his fingers, ran up his arm, and engulfed his entire body. Zabulon smiled at me through the flames—and disappeared.

The smoldering cigarette fell at my feet.

“Poser,” I said. “Cheap ham . . . swell-headed freak!”

Zabulon’s demonstrative refusal to fight for the boy-Prophet frightened me. Maybe he was just trying to put a good face on things, but something told me that the Dark One meant exactly what he had said.

But no way had he told me everything he knew.

Had he really had so little contact with Prophets, did he understand so little about who this tiger was?

And what was a “Twilight Creature” anyway?

Zabulon had spoken as if Gesar ought to understand him perfectly well. Which meant that Gesar knew too . . .

But, naturally, I didn’t ask the boss about it. Boris Ignatievich has his own opinion about what he ought to let his subordinates know so that they can discharge their obligations successfully.

Our visit to the Tolkovs’ flat ended exactly as I had assumed it would. The boy’s mother was put in the SUV and sent off to the airport, accompanied by Igor, Alisher, and Jermenson—to board a regular flight to Barcelona and enjoy a holiday at a seaside resort. She was clearly a good mother, judging from the fact that Semyon had had to use two sixth-level suggestions to persuade her to leave her child in our charge while she relaxed on the beaches of Catalonia. And for us Gesar opened a portal directly to the office of the Watch.

And he even initiated the boy in person there and then, as we were traversing the Twilight. You could have said that was a great honor, if not for the fact that the boy was a genuine Prophet.

The rooms for overnight stays were located on the semi-basement level of the office. It’s the right place for them. In reality hardly anyone ever stays there—usually it’s only the duty staff or Others from out of town who are here on business.