As she ran along Bradbridge’s parapet, Magdala kept her eyes on the small column of smoke. The thief was clearly unaware of it, probably thinking the smell was from the nearby cooking fires, but once off the bridge, she’d ditch the dark blue cloak and Magdala would have wasted Dwayne’s miraculous silent casting, which Magdala would interrogate him about at the earliest opportunity.

Where was the thief going? The Plague District? Wasn’t the License Key useless to non-Sourans?

When the thief reached the other riverbank, she paused to stare at the smoke still wreathing them. That was a mistake. With one giant leapt, Magdala was off the bridge and on the thief’s back.

“Oof! Watch it, you-” The thief’s all too familiar dark eyes widened. “Magdala?”

“Huan? Traitor!” Magdala snatched at Huan’s clothes. “Give it back.”

“No.” Huan punched Magdala in the face, dazing her long enough to push her off and roll onto his feet. “Back off or you’ll get another.”

Magdala checked for wounds. The inside of her cheek was cut, but there was nothing else. She stood up.

“You’re not getting away.” She presented her Qe core to the Brad. “Qechinututem!”

A column of river water slammed into Huan, knocking him down. Before he could recover, Magdala tackled him and started to rummage through his pockets. When she found the License Key, she snatched it and rolled away before Huan’s fist found her.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

“Give it back!” He tried to grab her. “I need that!”

“It’s not yours. It’s his.” Magdala felt more alive than ever. Was this what it was like to fight? “Give up and maybe we’ll find you some leniency.”

Huan’s reply: a snarl and a pair of thrown knives.

Magdala blocked the blades with her left arm and shoulder. “Too bad.” Mei deserved better. Magdala showed her Qe core. “Qeulkusnutut!”

This time the water arched up and over Huan’s head then slammed down onto him, the sudden pressure forcing him to his knees.

“I can do this all night.” That was a bluff. While it was easier to cast Qe with the core, she’d already moved a lot of water tonight. “Give up.”

She sidestepped two knives. Oh well. “Qeulkus-”

“‘otlo!”

Instinct threw Magdala to the ground before reason recognized the tail end of a wind blade spell. She rose to retaliate, but the enemy mage was moving too fast for the spell she’d half-prepared.

So, she changed targets. “‘chiliut!”

Again, water arched out of the river, but instead of hitting her opponents, it landed on top of Magdala, its mass deflecting another wind blade and setting Magdala up for her next move.

“nQerm.”

As the spell caught, Magdala’s whole being thrummed, her mind filling with familiar alchemical components breaking down into unfamiliar constituent parts. When she came to, she was lying on the ground, the air was filled with mist, and her head was cradled in Dwayne’s lap.

“Wha- what happened?”

“Good, you’re okay.” Dwayne’s lips were so close. “What happened?”

No idea. Magdala held up the License Key. “Got it.”

The corners of Dwayne’s lips quirked. “I can see that.”

There was so much mist, surely, she could just reach up and-

“Qemilo.” Wind blew away the mist as Lady Pol landed hard next to them. “What. Happened?”