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Power that I’d spent earlier that morning.
    “Not even terrorists are monsters,” I said. “They’re human beings. And so are you. And there are no commandments for human beings. That’s a scientifically proven fact.”
    As I drew in the energy that was bursting out of him, the driver calmed down. It wouldn’t last long, of course. That evening the pendulum would swing back, and he’d be overcome by rage again. It’s like pumping all the water out of a well very quickly-it comes rushing back in again.
    “But even so, you’re not right,” he replied more calmly. “Logic does exist, of course, yes… But if you compare things with the Middle Ages, then morality has definitely advanced.”
    “Don’t be ridiculous!” I said, shaking my head. “How has it advanced?… Even in the wars back then they had a strict code of honor. A war then was a real war, and kings fought with their armies, risking their thrones and their heads. And now? A big country wants to put pressure on a little one, so it bombs it for three months and gets rid of its outdated armaments at the same time. Not even the soldiers risk their lives! It’s the same as if you drove up onto the sidewalk and started knocking down pedestrians like bowling pins.”
    “The code of honor was for the aristocrats,” the driver objected sharply. “The simple people died in droves.”
    “And is it any different today?” I asked. “When one oligarch settles scores with another, there’s a certain code of honor that’s observed! Because both of them have goons to kill for them, compromising material about each other, certain interests in common, certain family ties. They’re just like the old aristocracy! Kings sitting up to their ears in cabbage. And the simple people are trash. A herd of sheep that are good for shearing, but sometimes it’s more profitable to slaughter them. Nothing’s changed. There never were any commandments, and there aren’t any now!”
    The driver fell silent.
    After that he didn’t say another word all the way. We turned off Kamergerskaya Street onto Tverskaya Street and I told him where to stop. I paid, deliberately giving him more than I should have. It was only then that he spoke again.
    “I’ll never give a witch a lift again,” he told me with a crooked grin. “It’s too hard on the nerves. I never thought a
     
    conversation with a beautiful girl could spoil my mood so badly.”
    “I’m sorry,” I said, and smiled sweetly.
    “Have a good day at… work.” He slammed the door and drove off abruptly.
    Well, well. I’d never been taken for a prostitute before, but he seemed to think that was what I was. That was the effect of the paranjah… and the district we were in, of course.
    But at least I’d more than made up for the Power I’d used up earlier. He’d turned out to be a magnificent donor, this intelligent, cultured, strong man. The only time I’d ever done better was… it was with the Prism of Power.
    I shuddered at the memory.
    It had all been so stupid… everything about it had been so monstrously stupid.
    My entire life had gone downhill as a result. I’d lost everything in a single moment.
    “You fool! You greedy fool!”
    It was a good thing that none of the people could see my real face. It probably looked about as pitiful as my stupid young neighbor’s.
    Anyway, what was done was done. I couldn’t turn back the clock, put things right and win back… his affection. It was my own fault, of course. And I ought to be glad that Zabulon hadn’t handed me over to the Light Ones.
    He used to love me. And I loved him… it would have been ridiculous for a young, inexperienced witch not to fall in love with the head of the Day Watch when he looked favorably on her…
    My fists were clenched so tight that the nails were biting into the skin. I’d struggled through. I’d survived last summer. The Darkness only knew how, but I’d survived.
    And now there was no point in remembering the past and