I lift the cane in front of myself and approach the door and whisper.

“An arrow, O’ Djinn.”

The mana flowed through me, exited at the tip of my wand, and splattered against the door. Wisps of flame and wind scatter across my chest. The hoodie chars, and the metal rings of the mail beneath heat up as I pat out the flames. I suck in the air as the heated metal burns my skin.

Well, there goes that plan. Perhaps I could use the sword within the cane to stab the one leaning against the door? I slide the silvery, straight sword free and give it a few swings. It sings as it slices through the air. I peer through the gap again. It was close, but not close enough to land a fatal blow. Even then, how would I get out of here?

I give one of the spikes a tug. It doesn’t budge. The best option would probably be some sort of force that could destroy the door and the spikes all at once. That was probably my only option.

“Bombard my enemies, O’ thou servants of Gob, the magnomious.”

The mana flows up through my feet as I begin the incantation, circles around my heart, and flows out through my feet as the incantation ends. I try to follow it beyond my feet, but I couldn’t. A portion of the stone floor ripped from the ground and flung itself into the spike wall. A few of the spikes cracked but still held.

“Bombard my enemies, O’ thou servants of Gob, the magnomious.”

I chant again. Mana flows up my feet, through my body, and around my heart. I focus to draw in more and more of it letting it flow out of me and back into the ground until my body itself felt as if it were a large wheel of flowing, tingling energy. I notice that the mana tends to flow through my left foot. What if I split it on its way out and let it flow out of my right as well?

As the mana that had already circled my heart made its way down to my hips, I concentrate to split the stream. I manage to do it on my first try. The mana flows out of feet and each stream finds a rock. About half the size of the last one, and rips it out of the ground; tossing them with the same force. They both smack against the door. One of the spikes broke apart, and the door buckled. I see the shadow of the Ratman on the other side move.

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One more time?

“Bombard my enemies, O’ thou servants of Gob, the magnomious.”

I redirect the mana, let it flow through my feet, and try to feel it as it enters the ground. Nothing. The two stones slam against the door and another one of the spikes breaks.

I hear a pair of padded feet flee from the door, but still, I can see the shadow of one of them lingering at the door. I wonder, however. I walk to the door and pick up one of the shattered spikes, and walk back to the wall. I step away from it and once more cast Rock Throw. The mana rips apart the ground. I keep it flowing; more and more. More of the floor breaks apart. Every cycle I try to feel where the mana goes. I do this until my head begins to hurt.

The rock drops from the air and shakes the entire room as it slams back down to the earth and I clutch my head. I take a few steps backward and press my back against the wall. As I’m recovering from the headache, the sound of many footsteps approaching from the direction of the bridge. Soon the slats are crowded with bodies. I still needed time to recover, but I pushed myself away from the wall and ready myself. If they were going to break in, I was at least going to take a few of them with me.

None of the expected banging of a battering ram, or a heavy hammer comes, however. No, all I hear is a kind of chittering laughter, and see the flash of orange just beyond the door. It wasn’t long before black smoke began to flood into the room through the gaps between the black wood slats that made up the door, and through the spaces between the marble spikes.

The black, choking smoke fills the room and slowly drifts to me.

Shit. I think. My head still hurts, I couldn’t use any magic to get out of here. Was I going to die? Suffocate to death? My mind reels. What can I do? I need something to filter out the smoke, I tell myself. I hurry to my backpack and dig through the contents until I find a shirt, and wrap it around my face like a mask. I move back to the wall and turn around so that my back can act as an additional barrier. Finally, I pull my hoodie over my head and hold it up on the wall so that it draped over my head to block out even more of the smoke.

It didn’t block it all out, however. Soon the black curls found their way into the little cocoon I had built and stung my eyes. It tried to slip beneath the layer around my mouth, and some seeped through the cloth of the shirt tied around my face. Enough to make me cough and sputter, but not enough to suffocate.

Minutes I wait, for the headache to fade. For minutes the choking black smoke filled the room. At some point, the headache from the lack of oxygen and the headache from the overuse of magic merges together to form a splitting migraine.

My vision began to haze, and my head began to swirl. I had to do something. Anything, or else I was going to die. If I used gust would it help? No, if I did, it would only agitate the smoke particles in the air, and, perhaps, suck in more from the fire on the other side of the door. No, there was really only one option. I had to break out of this cell of my own making.