Ruby Fever (Hidden Legacy, #6)(37)

Perhaps this was an opportunity. The Keeper was the expert on magic bloodlines. I could get a lot of my questions answered. But what would it cost me?

The Office of Records was one of two magic-related institutions that did not fall under my jurisdiction, the Assembly Tribunal being the other. I couldn’t compel the Keeper to comply. Anything he told me was strictly voluntary and the more I asked, the higher the cost would be.

Years ago, Nevada had promised the Keeper that she would fulfill an unspecified favor in return for sparing our evil grandmother Victoria. Since I had started my apprenticeship with Evil Grandmother, she’d mentioned this favor at least ten times. Not many things kept Victoria Tremaine up at night, but this one sure did. She stressed again and again that the Office of Records balanced the favor owed by the favor given and sparing her had been a significant favor.

In any case, this was a conversation best had in private.

“I wish to discuss a confidential matter. Is there a place my mother and Significant Harrison could wait?”

“Of course. Michael, please show our guests to the Blue Room.”

Michael glided across the floor without making a sound. That man made my hair stand on end.

Mom and Cornelius followed him out.

The Keeper regarded me with a smile. “Tea, Acting Warden?”

And he knew. How? The National Assembly must have notified him out of courtesy. I wondered who else had gotten that memo.

“Yes, thank you.”

“Honey, milk, lemon?” the Keeper offered.

“I’ll take it plain.”

The Keeper nodded.

Michael reappeared with a platter supporting a single extra cup. He set the cup in front of me, poured black tea from a teapot, left the platter on the table, and took three steps back.

I sipped my tea. It was lovely and smelled of vanilla. “Delicious.”

“I’m glad it suits your tastes.”

This conversation would have to be structured very carefully. I couldn’t obligate the Office of the Warden to something it couldn’t honor. If the Keeper asked for something in return for the information, I had to be sure we could deliver it. Making an enemy of the Office of Records was not an option.

“I have two requests, one for public information and one requiring discretion. The Office of the Warden would be grateful for any assistance.”

The Keeper’s eyes shone for a moment, as if lit from within. “The Office of Records always welcomes an opportunity to collect a favor from the Office of the Warden, doesn’t it, Michael?”

Michael looked directly at me. Like being sighted through the scope of a rifle.

“Please, make your inquiries,” the Keeper invited.

“Has Kaylee Cabera ever undertaken the trials?”

“No.”

“Has she undertaken any preliminary tests?”

“Yes.”

Now we were in a grey area. The trials took place before witnesses. Their results were public. The nature of one’s magic could be sealed, but not the rank. The results of preliminary tests remained private. They were unofficial practice runs that were published only if the family wanted them to be known.

If I asked about her specific rank, the Keeper could tell me, but the cost of that information would be high. I needed to mitigate our obligation.

“Based on those preliminary tests, does the Office of Records expect Kaylee Cabera to be certified as a Prime?”

The Keeper looked wolfish. “It would take a miracle or a crime against humanity.”

Administering the Osiris serum without authorization constituted a crime against humanity. He just confirmed my suspicions. Kaylee was born with minor power and her mother had gone to Arkan to make her daughter a Prime. That’s why she was untrained. That’s why her magic was odd.

I took out my phone, pulled up a picture of Pete’s ruined face, and placed the phone on the table. “Does the Office of Records know what type of mage could cause this kind of damage?”

The Keeper glanced at the phone. “I always liked Peter. What a shame. This was done by a mentamalleus.”

“A mind hammer?”

The Keeper nodded. “They’re more commonly known as false halcyons, which is not strictly accurate. The false halcyons are not a twisted branch growing from the halcyon tree; rather they are two separate trunks growing from the same root.”

“How do they differ?”

“Halcyon magic attacks certain areas of the brain,” the Keeper said. “Specifically, the amygdala, which assesses environmental threats, and the hypothalamus, which has the power to trigger the production of stress response hormones. Instead of initiating the making of cortisol and adrenaline, which allow us to quickly respond to threats, the affected hypothalamus sends signals for the production of dopamine and oxytocin, causing their target to enter a happy, relaxed stupor. The damage halcyons cause is temporary, and their power is effort-based.”

“Meaning they consciously exert an effort to induce calm?”

“Precisely.” The Keeper nodded. “The magic of a false halcyon also attacks the amygdala and hypothalamus, but primarily targets the frontal cortex, and instead of triggering hormonal responses, it permanently damages the physical structure of the brain. The attack is performed mentally, but if it succeeds, the damage to the mind is mirrored by the physical trauma to the brain. The results are predictably horrific.”