"What do you mean…" Natasha asked in a cheerless voice.

Instead of answering, the girl unzipped Natasha's purse and took out the little bottle. She held it up in front of Natasha's eyes, and then she shook her head again in reproach.

"Got it!" shouted the young man who had gone into the kitchen. "It's all here, guys."

One of the men holding the seer by the arms sighed and said in an oddly bored-sounding voice, "Darya Leonidovna Romashova! In the name of the Night Watch, you are under arrest."

"What watch?" There was a note of obvious puzzlement, mingled with panic, in the seer's voice. "Who are you?"

"You have the right to reply to our questions," the young man went on. "Any magical action from your side will be regarded as hostile and punished without any warning. You have the right to request the settlement of your human obligations. You are accused of… Garik?"

The young man who had gone into the kitchen came back out. As if she were dreaming, Natasha noticed that he had an intellectual, thoughtful, rather sad kind of face. She had always liked men like that…

"I suppose it's the usual set," said Garik. "The illegal practice of black magic. Third or fourth degree intervention in the consciousness of other individuals. Murder, tax evasion-but the last one's not for us. That's for the Dark Ones."

"You are accused of the illegal practice of black magic, intervention in the consciousness of others, and murder," the man holding Darya repeated. "You will come with us."

The seer gave a long, piercing, terrifying scream. Natasha involuntarily glanced at the open door. Of course, it would be naive to hope that the neighbors would come running to help, but they could call the police, couldn't they?