As I approached, I could see quite clearly just how full he had pumped himself. Right up to the eyeballs, as they say—he couldn’t accumulate any more Power and was flinging everything he pumped out into a Sphere of Negation. I could tell at a glance that no spell of mine would pierce that defense. Maybe Gesar could have done something. Thanks to his technique. But there was no certainty that even he could have done anything straight away.

So, a Sphere of Negation. A spell that weak Others are really fond of—it allows them to oppose far more powerful magicians.

Right, now we know you, Valentin.

“May I sit down?” I asked as I approached the young man. Pastukhov had stopped a little distance away and started watching the stage in a very unnatural manner.

“Have a seat, Anton,” Valentin said. And he added, trying to speak as impressively as possible: “Only don’t try anything stupid, all right?”

“There’s nothing stupid left for me to try here,” I sighed as I sat down.

Valentin snorted.

“It was always interesting to listen to you, Anton. You added a special kind of twist to the way you put things.”

“That comes with age,” I said, surveying the stand. “If you happen to live that long . . . So what are you doing, kiddo?”

“You can see that,” he replied with an adamant edge to his voice.

“Sure, I can see. You’re pumping in Power. But what have you taken it into your head to do? Remoralize everyone here? Annihilate the Dark Ones? Scatter the clouds and improve the weather?”

“There, now you’re talking plain nonsense,” Valentin said scornfully. “Do you take me for a total fool?”

“No, for a noble idealist with a passionate heart,” I replied seriously.

“I realize perfectly well that remoralizing everyone haphazardly won’t do any good,” said Valentin. “For your information, I’ve studied the history of those who’ve already tried to do that.”

“And did that history teach you anything?” I asked.

“Of course.”

Valentin paused for a moment, peering into the stand. He was clearly waiting to seize the moment to suck in the next spurt of energy. I had to suppress a puerile desire to beat him to it and imbibe the spectators’ Power. It would be amusing . . . but no, better not nettle the young guy.

“Valya, what is it that’s got you so wound up, anyway?”

“The world’s full of injustice,” Valentin replied immediately.

“I won’t argue with that. But there was something specific, wasn’t there?”

Valentin thought for moment.

“Yes, probably. The old woman.”

“What old woman?”