Ruby Fever (Hidden Legacy, #6)(38)

The memory of being struck by Kaylee’s magic was still fresh. Like me. LIKE me.

“Is it emotion-based?”

The Keeper smiled. “Yes. Very much so. A halcyon is calm and logical. A false halcyon is an unstable creature that throws all of themselves into their attack with the passion of an upset toddler. They commit completely, they are fueled by their emotions, and they cause irreparable damage. Like true halcyons, they can induce a temporary state of euphoria, but at the end of it, their victim loses most of their cognitive abilities.”

When I had thought that Kaylee was trying to turn Alessandro into a happy idiot, I’d had no idea how accurate that thought had been.

The Keeper touched my phone gently. “In Peter’s case, the dominant emotion was rage or hatred. The primary directive behind it was very simple.”

“Die?”

“Yes.”

What about Wahl? “What if someone was grazed by a false halcyon attack? Is there any hope of recovery?”

“Yes. Like all magic users, the false halcyons vary in power. If the accidental target was coherent after the attack, the damage is likely slight. It’s much like touching a hot stove. The longer one keeps their hand in the fire, the more severe the burn will be.”

I let out a breath. Wahl had been coherent. He’d been happy and smiling, but coherent.

“False halcyons are notoriously erratic,” the Keeper said. “There are a handful of Houses who still practice that magic, but their members undergo very rigorous mental conditioning from an early age. It’s one of the few kinds of magic considered to be undesirable due to the difficulty of controlling it. Most families took steps to breed it out.”

So Kaylee awakened as a mind hammer, which Luciana would have hidden at any cost until she could get her daughter some training. The Caberas were a noncombat House. Kaylee could be seen as either a critical asset or a huge hindrance, depending on how the rest of the relatives took it.

I could now say with 100% certainty that Kaylee had killed Pete and likely attacked Linus. It was almost elegant: first, Luciana would have put everyone at ease with her halcyon powers and then her daughter would’ve smashed their minds. Except Linus was a siren. His magic had warned him.

I still didn’t understand how Kaylee had evaded the turrets. I would figure this out before the end.

Now I knew who and when. I still didn’t know why. Did Arkan order them to do it and then tied up loose ends by killing Luciana or was this something else? I would have to figure this out on my own.

There were only a few points left to clarify.

“Hypothetically speaking,” I said, “if a family had produced halcyons and only halcyons for over four generations, why would a repeat application of the Osiris serum result in an awakening of a mind hammer?”

The Keeper leaned back. “Michael, the Fata Magum, please.”

Michael retrieved a box from a shelf, brought it to the Keeper, and resumed his post three steps away. The Keeper opened the ornate wooden box and took out a small six-sided die, red like crystalized blood. Greek letters were carved into the die and inlaid with ivory, one per side.

The Keeper held it up to the light and the die sparkled. A ruby?

“The fate of the mage.” The Keeper showed me one side with the Greek letter Z. “Zeta. Sacrifice.”

He turned the die to display a different side. “Beta. Demon.”

Another turn. “Lambda. Growth. The three fates awaiting those who risk the serum. Death, distortion, or power.”

Those who took the serum died, became warped by it, or gained magic, from which they then acquired wealth and power.

The Keeper held it out to me.

I reached out and he let the die fall into my palm. Six sides, three unique symbols, each occurring twice.

“Make your roll.”

I let the cool smooth cube fall from my fingers. The die landed on the table, rolled and stopped. Zeta.

“Death,” I said.

“This die was carved in 1865, for the second wave of Osiris recipients,” the Keeper said. “Countless would-be mages held it in their hands and rolled it just like you did before making their final decision. A great many of them walked away after making their roll.”

The die glinted on the table.

“Why do you think some people died and others didn’t?” the Keeper asked.

“Nobody knows. It’s magic, not science.”

“But if you had to hazard a guess . . .”

I had read a couple of books on Magic Theory, but most of my current reading focused on practical applications. “There are five leading theories, most of them agreeing that the serum kills those without latent magical powers. Various factors have been considered, such as diet, exposure to the flu pandemic, and so on. The records from that time are understandably murky . . .”

The Keeper raised his hand and I fell silent.

“Yes, but you are a Prime, the highest rank of a magic user who has used your power since birth. I want to know what you think.”

“I think that in all three cases the Osiris serum does exactly what it was designed to do. It searches for latent abilities and makes them manifest. It’s not that those who die aren’t capable of magic, it’s that it is too powerful or too destructive, and their bodies cannot handle it. It is the same with the warped. The magic twists them because their power is too great to be contained. Perhaps those who survive intact and become mages are not the strongest, but the weakest. Nobody can predict what the die will show.”