Estimating the weight of the Hall of Knowledge’s entry doors was harder than with any of the interior doors. The entry doors were much heavier, of course, but the ageing frame constricted their movement, making them feel heavier to move than they really were. Or perhaps they were just made with a particularly heavy kind of wood. Meleng wasn’t sure which. It was probably a combination of both.

“We are exposed here,” Jorvan said. “You should hurry up.”

Meleng gulped, took a quick guess, and almost started tracing the equations. If he overestimated a little, it wouldn’t matter much. It would just make the doors get a little more stuck, which was exactly what he was after anyway. However, if he overestimated too much, he might break the frame and walls surrounding the doors, causing the doors to fall right off—and that would be a disaster.

He sighed, then reminded himself these kinds of situations were all about estimation anyway. Close was all that was needed, and he’d done this sort of thing before. He could do it again.

He started tracing the equations, making sure to include a connector to the equations he’d already traced on the dragon gargoyle.

“Any word of Nin-Akna?” Jorvan asked.

Meleng shook his head. Just what had Akna been thinking? She hadn’t been thinking, he reminded himself. Sinitïa should have thought better though. Then again, Akna had simply played on Sinitïa’s desire to help everyone. Even if Sinitïa had refused to help, Akna would have still found a way away from her and Corvinian. The real question was, how had she managed to get out of the building unseen? These doors and the steps were very exposed and had been constantly watched.

Oh well, Akna could take care of herself. She would be fine. He had to believe that.

He finished the equations on the left door and moved straight over to the right. He took a quick glance below as he worked.

The Bloods and soldiers had set up at the base of the steps. Feviona, who had been flying above the city on patrol had spotted them coming well before they’d arrived, and Jorvan had covered the steps with a thick coating of slick ice that formed a flat, slanted plane. The soldiers were now preparing grapples and picks to try to make their way up the slope. A few held bows and were watching Meleng and Jorvan at the top, but they weren’t firing at them. They’d tried that once a few minutes ago, and Jorvan had simply blown the arrows off course.

Now he’d calculated the equations, tracing them onto the second door went much more quickly than the first. As soon as he was done, he nodded to Jorvan, and stepped inside the doors.

Jorvan spread his wings and flew off to join Feviona on patrol. Meleng watched him for a moment. He really wished events didn’t keep requiring Jorvan to use his wings. The injured wing was still not fully healed. Jorvan was doing his best to avoid anything strenuous, but the need for speed getting here had meant he hadn’t been able to rest much on the journey here, and now they were here, they were caught up in this power struggle.

Once Jorvan was high up, well beyond the range of any of the soldiers’ bows, Meleng pulled the doors of the Hall of Knowledge closed. He gave a thumbs-up to Angelida and the team of wizards manning the barricades—he hadn’t caught any of the others’ names—then traced connector equations onto the inside of the doors. He made his way along the perimeter of the inside wall, past the barricades, to the door to the lower levels. He would remain by the door for now. If Jorvan and Feviona came inside, Meleng would then activate the equations from here, bringing the gargoyle down and jamming the main doors.

With luck, the Bloods and soldiers wouldn’t even make it to the doors, let alone past them. Getting up to the doors would leave them vulnerable to attack from Jorvan and Feviona. Their only real hope would be to tire the two Isyar out, and Meleng couldn’t think of an easy way for them to do that, short of bringing in siege weaponry.

Maybe this was why the Hall’s entrance was in such a hard-to-reach place. Meleng made a mental note to look up whether the Hall of Knowledge had ever had to withstand a siege before.

There was one other variable he was neglecting to think of, though. No one knew whether Plavistalorik was still working for the new Lord; nothing had been heard of her. However, if she was, she might be able to face off against Jorvan and Feviona. No one here was sure just how powerful she was. Surely she wasn’t as powerful as Mikranasta though. But Mikranasta was hidden somewhere inside the building and would only enter the battle if the Bloods got inside.

Meleng traced additional equations onto the door to the lower levels, then stood back and waited.

Ages passed.

Meleng found himself fighting to keep awake. Pedrin brought him a chair at one point, but Meleng chose not to use it. He didn’t want to fall asleep.

Every now and then, there was a thud or bang from outside, but it always went quiet almost immediately afterwards. It was probably the Bloods making some sort of attempt to ascend and Jorvan or Feviona rebuffing them. They seemed to be very infrequent attempts, though. The Bloods were probably waiting until morning before making any serious attempts to ascend.

But morning was an eternity away.

Pedrin brought a blanket over eventually. “You should get some sleep. We’re taking shifts. Don’t worry; we’ll make sure you’re awake if anything happens.”

Meleng took the blanket without a word, and stared at it and the chair for a moment. Pedrin was right. He probably should get some sleep. But he didn’t want to dream right now. Sometimes, when waking from a dream, it was difficult to be sure he wasn’t still dreaming. Now was not a good time to be distracted in that way. Still, he also needed to be alert, and he couldn’t be alert if he was too tired.

He sat in the chair and wrapped the blanket around himself. He probably wouldn’t fall asleep anyway. A chair was hardly the ideal location for sleeping. He had to shift around quite a bit to get even a semblance of comfort. He was definitely tired. The events of the day had seen to that.

As sleep overtook him, his thoughts drifted back to their arrival in Quorge in the morning.

This whole conflict was their fault.

Well, not technically, but it was their fault it was happening now. They should have avoided the conflict at the docks.

Everything had been going so well. They had made great time from Isyaria, all the way down the east coast of Arnor to Dorg, then back north up the Tirin River to Lake Belone and then Quorge—all thanks to Jorvan providing them with the winds they needed, and a little good luck with the weather. Since they were docking and didn’t need the winds anymore, Jorvan went to rest in their cabin.

Meleng didn’t want to disturb him, so tried wandering elsewhere, but kept getting in the way of the crew. Eventually, Feviona flew them both out to the bowsprit, where they sat while the Lustrous Rose docked. It was a bit frightening at first—it was such a precarious position; a fall could mean death—but he soon grew to enjoy it. He wasn’t entirely sure how he kept his balance—Feviona had traced some equations onto the bowsprit, so maybe that had something to do with it—but he didn’t fall and the cold sea breeze was invigorating.

When the ship came to a full stop, Feviona put her arms around Meleng again, and flew them both onto the pier.

That had been their mistake.

It had drawn attention to them. Mikranasta even scolded Feviona later for it. If she hadn’t done that, they could have snuck into Quorge.

At first, it had been positive attention. People on the pier gawked, the way Arnorins tended to when they saw Isyar. But then, a man in pinkish armour, along with two local watchmen, approached them. Other people on the pier quickly moved out of the way of the men’s passage.

Meleng also backed aside to let them pass, but they stopped as they got close.

“State your business,” the man in the pink armour said. The man was either extremely brave or extremely foolish wearing such heavy armour so close to water he could easily drown in.

Meleng glanced briefly at Feviona before stepping forward. “Uh, we’re just passengers on the Lustrous Rose. Uh, that ship there.” He pointed behind him. “We just arrived.”

“We all saw you arrive.” The man had one hand on the hilt of his sword, and his other held a helmet at his side.

“We didn’t mean to cause a disturbance,” Meleng said. “Really, we were just...uh...we were sitting on the bowsprit and it was just easiest, I think, to fly onto the dock. That’s all.”

“I asked you to state your business.”

“Oh, we’re just here to…” How should he respond? Meleng was certain he ought to recognise the significance of the man’s armour, but he couldn’t place it. “We’re just visiting.”

The man scowled. He looked at Feviona. “And you?”

“Visiting, too,” Meleng said. “With me. And my friends.”

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“I want him to answer.”

“Huh? Oh...uh...her. You want her to answer.”

The man’s scowl deepened.

“She doesn’t know the language,” Meleng said. “And she’s mute.”

“Mute.” The man laughed. “Aren’t Isyar supposed to be powerful wizards, but they can’t talk?”

“Look, we’ll just be on our way. We don’t want to cause any problems.”

“You’ll return to your ship and leave Quorge and Belone. Lord Belone has forbidden the entry of non-humans into the province.”

“He has?”

“That’s what I said.”

“But doesn’t he have an Isyar in his court?”

“She has special dispensation. Return to your ship and leave or you will be placed under arrest.”

Almost everyone on the pier had backed well away from the armoured man and the two watchmen. Meleng glanced back at the ship. Even many of the crew there had stopped their work and were watching over the deck. The gangplank was still being lowered into place, though.

“Well?” the armoured man said.

What is he saying? Feviona signed.

He wants us… Meleng couldn’t remember how to sign leave. Feviona had been teaching him and Sinitïa on the journey from Isyaria, but it had only been a few weeks—barely more than a month—so he was far from fluent. Sinitïa was doing so much better. But she wasn’t here to help. Finally, it came to him. He wants us to go.

“What’s this nonsense?” The man let go of his sword and waved his hand around in front of him.

“It’s how she communicates,” Meleng said. “I told you, she’s mute.”

The man made a face and waved his hand around mockingly. “Get back to your ship!”

Meleng nodded, motioned to Feviona, and turned towards the ship.

“Wait!”

Meleng stopped and looked back.

The man pointed to Feviona. “We’ll need to confiscate the Isyar’s sword. Bearing weapons like that is illegal. Hand it over.”

Meleng turned to Feviona. He wants you to… He paused, trying to remember the right signs. To give him your sword. He merely pointed to her sword as he didn’t know the right sign.

No!

“She doesn’t want to. We’ll just go back to the ship.”

The man’s hand returned to his sword hilt. “Then we’ll take it.” He drew his sword.

Feviona turned to face the man. Tell him if he...something...he will...something.

Meleng grimaced. He didn’t need to know her exact words to know her meaning. “She really doesn’t want you to do that.”

“Arrest them both,” the man said.

The two watchmen hesitated.

“I said arrest them. Now!”

“But sir,” one said, “she’s...she’s an Isyar. They can do…”

The armoured man laughed. “Tricks, according to Commander Plavin. You have nothing to worry about. Now arrest them!”

“Sergeant! Sergeant!” Captain Gen came running up, Miana Ting right behind them. “Or is it Captain? Commander? I apologise. I don’t know your rank. I am Etiënne Gen, Captain of the Lustrous Rose. I can vouch for these two.”

Sinitïa, Jorvan, Mikranasta, and Hedromornasta were a short distance farther back, getting closer.

“These two are under arrest,” the man said. He looked at the two watchmen, and when they continued to hesitate, he growled and rushed Feviona.

Feviona drew her sword, but the man stumbled, then collapsed. He yanked his helmet off and clawed at his face, screaming.

Feviona backed away, shaking her head. Not me!

“Hedromornasta!” Mikranasta snapped.

Hedromornasta said something in Isyarian, and Mikranasta responded harshly.

The armoured man no longer clawed at his face, but he was still screaming. Blood poured from his eyes. Meleng felt as though he could be sick. Sinitïa had already turned away and was retching.

The two Watchmen stood staring silently. All around, people along the docks had stopped and were staring.

Then someone yelled. Then someone else. One of the Watchmen yelled out too, and they both drew their swords.

Feviona ran a finger along the flat of her blade. When the first Watchman came at her, her blade cut right through his, then knocked the other one’s out of his hands.

Both Watchmen turned and ran.

Other people on the docks ran too, some yelling, others screaming.

A horn blew somewhere.

“We should get out of here,” Jorvan said.

“How?” Sinitïa asked. “There are more coming.”

Farther down the pier, several Watchmen and a couple more of the knights with pinkish armour and red capes were pushing through the panicked crowds.

Mikranasta spoke to Jorvan in Isyarian.

Jorvan nodded. “Fevionawishtensen and I will carry you and Sinitïa away. Mikranasta and Hedromornasta will delay them. She promises Hedromornasta will not be so violent again.”

“What about Gen and the crew?” Meleng looked to the Captain.

“Don’t worry about us,” Gen said. “We’ll be fine.”

“They’ve stopped moving,” Sinitïa said.

Meleng looked back down the pier. Sure enough, the Watchmen and knights were standing still. A straggler from the almost vanished crowd pushed one of the knights, who fell over sideways like a statue, his limbs still rigid.

Jorvan placed a hand on Meleng’s shoulder. “Time to go.”

“Are you sure you’re up to flying with the extra weight?”

“I will carry Sinitïa. She is lighter than you.”

Feviona stood behind Meleng and hooked her arms under and around Meleng’s shoulders. Then they were away, cold air rushing against Meleng’s face. He had flown with Feviona earlier, but this time, they went much higher. Below, the docks, ships, and people were getting smaller and smaller. Meleng’s heart began pounding faster, and a wave of nausea washed over him. He clamped his eyes shut, which diminished the vertigo only a little. He clutched at Feviona’s arms and held on for dear life.

Sinitïa was laughing and squealing. “This is so much fun!”

There was a rumble, followed by a bang in the distance.

“What was that?” Meleng risked opening his eyes, but being able to see the entirety of the docks of Quorge beneath him him brought the vertigo right back. He fought to hold the bile back in his throat and clamped his eyes shut again.

Jorvan didn’t answer him—which wasn’t really surprising. The two Isyar could only fly so close together. It was likely Jorvan hadn’t heard the question, and Meleng was unwilling to let go of Feviona to sign the question to her. Besides, she would be unable to reply without letting go of him.

There were more rumbles and bangs beneath them.

Meleng risked another glimpse. It was a little better this time. Some of the buildings near the docks were on fire. Surely Mikranasta and Hedromornasta hadn’t done that? They were mentalists. Mentalists couldn’t burn buildings—not with magic anyway. But then, what was going on?

As Feviona flew higher, Meleng found it easier to keep his eyes open. The vertigo faded, perhaps because he was getting more used to it, or perhaps because everything below looked so small now as to be unreal. The cold wind was threatening to freeze his face though.

He and Feviona were in the lead, and it wasn’t easy to look behind. However, he did catch occasional glances of Jorvan and Sinitïa, and at one point, he was pretty sure he saw Mikranasta, so they had come to join them.

Then they reached the Hall of Knowledge in time to see Akna and Corvinian ascending the steps.

He really hoped Akna was all right. She could take care of herself—he knew that—except she wasn’t herself right now. He should have stayed with her.

A crash from outside woke him.