“Does it drain you?”
“No. The effort is in keeping them contained.”
“In that, we’re similar. Like you, I generate an excess of magic. Maintaining a slight illusion burns some of it off.” He looked at my wings. “They are mesmerizing.”
That’s the idea. “What did you want to talk about?”
“You understand that Alessandro will die tomorrow?”
Anxiety pinched me. “You seem very certain of that.”
“Have you seen the recording of Alessandro’s father’s death?” he asked.
“Yes.”
Arkan’s magic was unique and terrible. When he unleashed it, he stopped time. It couldn’t be the true nature of his power, but that’s what it looked like. He had gone to the wedding of Marcello’s best friend to kill him, and when Alessandro’s father put himself between Arkan and his target, Arkan had immobilized the entire wedding party. Even their wounds didn’t bleed until the effect wore off. It wasn’t something one would forget.
Konstantin was looking directly at me. He had a magnetic gaze, difficult to meet, but once you did, it held you like a tractor beam.
“Arkan’s magic can’t be countered. Five seconds of pure freedom to do whatever the hell he wants while everyone else stands petrified. His range is twenty-five meters. He can effectively immobilize a chunk of any battlefield. His magic has no name. He’s one of a kind. None of his siblings inherited his power and neither did his son.”
“He has children?”
“Had. A boy. He died. He looked a bit like Xavier.”
“And you kept that fact to yourself.”
He nodded. “You might have hesitated to kill him. We needed Arkan enraged. It’s fortunate that Huracan lived up to his name.”
“You plot too much, Your Highness.”
“It’s an occupational hazard. Alessandro can nullify all the magic around him. In theory, a perfect counter to Arkan. But Alessandro requires a circle to do his ultimate trick, while Arkan does not, and Alessandro won’t use that circle tomorrow.”
Where was he going with this? “How do you know?”
“It’s omni-directional. His power cannot be aimed. He quashes all magic in an eight-hundred-meter radius, an equivalent of a magical EMP bomb.”
It was nine hundred meters, actually.
“Your family requires magic to fight, while Arkan’s people are trained killers even without their powers. If Sasha detonates his antimagic bomb tomorrow, you, your sisters, your cousins, your grandparents, all of you will become ordinary civilians, while Arkan will still have dozens of professional assassins at his disposal.”
He thought Alessandro’s power functioned like an environmental spell, affecting a certain area as long as you were in it. He was wrong. Alessandro’s blast affected people within the area, but not the environment itself.
“Arkan is an excellent killer,” Konstantin continued. “He was trained by the best in the Imperium. Sasha is a superb fighter, true, except he relies on his talent too much. He is younger and faster, but he alone won’t be enough if the rest of you lose your powers. No matter where Arkan will be on that battlefield tomorrow, Alessandro would hone in on him like a guided missile. Whatever plans you’ve made, they will all go out of the window once the two of them see each other.”
A few days ago I might have believed that was true. Even now doubt nagged at me. But Alessandro had made me a promise. Either I trusted the man I loved or there was no way for us to be together.
“You’re probably thinking of your mother and her sniper rifle right now. It won’t work.”
I wasn’t thinking that, but it wasn’t a bad suggestion.
“What I am about to share is a state secret. Technically I’m committing treason.” Konstantin gave me a narrow, humorless smile. “The petrification is Arkan’s active talent.”
Most mages had an active and a passive field. Active magical abilities required conscious effort, while passive powers were autonomic like breathing or sweating. My passive field evaluated strangers for threats and tried to make them like me on its own, which was why I had to constantly suppress it, while singing required a conscious effort and was therefore active. Konstantin’s passive field let him see through illusions, among other things, but to change shape he would need to exert himself.
“Are you telling me that Arkan generates a passive field?” I asked. Nobody had ever mentioned it. Not the Warden Network, not Alessandro’s spies.