“And you won’t stop me,” said Valentin, working himself up even more. “I’ll go to the Kremlin—the president’s addressing the Duma there today. And I’ll bring them all to their senses! I’ve worked out the whole thing. I’ll have enough Power to repel any of your spells, with plenty left over for a mass remoralization.”

“The Sphere of Negation?” I asked.

“Uh-huh,” said Valentin, nodding proudly.

“A good spell,” I admitted. “You really will be able to block any of my magic, and you can draw Power from it, too.”

Valentin smiled. He looked like a schoolboy who has earned words of praise from a strict teacher.

There was no point in dragging things out any longer. I stuck my hand in the pocket of my anorak and took out a short telescopic truncheon. I shook it and it snapped out to its full length.

“Ah . . .” said Valentin, starting to get to his feet. He had realized belatedly what was happening.

I shoved him gently in the chest with my free left hand—as I was expecting, Valentin flung his hands up to protect himself against the harmless blow. And that was when I whacked him with the truncheon, swinging hard so that the dense rubber with the heavy metal core thudded dully against the top of the hapless Other’s head.

Valentin’s eyes rolled up and he went limp. I held him up by his anorak as I sat him back down on his chair. Pastukhov was there beside me immediately, holding his own far heavier truncheon at the ready.

“Easy now, everything’s fine,” I told him. “Right . . . just a moment . . .”

Oh, the young guy had really pumped himself full! I absorbed as much Power as I could and then started simply releasing it into space. With no one controlling it anymore, the Sphere of Negation no longer impeded me. The people in the stands livened up, started applauding and yelling. The music started playing louder.

What is the point of teaching them? All that effort, but instead of the Magician’s Shield, which protects against everything, they still use the Sphere of Negation. He could at least have set a weak Crystal Shield under the Sphere . . .

Ah, these young people.

When I’d finished, I cast the Clamps spell on him, blocking his magical abilities completely. The Clamps can only be used on an Other who is unconscious, and they only hold for a few hours. But that would be enough.

“He’s alive,” Pastukhov declared in relief after examining Valentin. “Listen—he’s one of yours, a Light One, isn’t he?”

“If he’s a Light One, that doesn’t necessarily mean he’s one of ours,” I sighed. Semyon was already walking towards us.

“And what’s going to happen to him now?” Pastukhov asked. He seemed almost to sympathize with the young guy.