He threw the blanket aside, and jumped to his feet. He looked about, opening and closing his eyes, making certain he was really awake.

Nearby, Pedrin was rising from a blanket on the floor. The wizards at the barricades were standing alert.

“Something’s started outside,” Angelida called.

“Keep a close watch on the doors,” Pedrin said. “If the two Isyar enter, the enemy will likely be pursuing them. Let the Isyar get clear of the doors, then give the enemy everything you’ve got. I’ll go check with the lookout.” He turned to Meleng. “Be ready to activate your enchantments as soon as the Isyar are inside.”

Meleng nodded, and Pedrin took off through the interior door.

Meleng took a deep breath and stood by the door. At first, he held his finger out, ready to complete and activate the equations. His arm soon got tired though, so he lowered it and stood as relaxed as he could. He only needed to trace one quick character; it wasn’t like the half-second it took to move his arm would make a difference.

An eternity passed.

Sounds from outside came sporadically. Pedrin returned to report that the Bloods had brought in a ballista, but Jorvan had destroyed it. Jorvan was also making certain none of their grapples were staying connected long enough for anyone to climb up.

Another eternity passed. It was getting hard to stay awake. Even standing, Meleng found his eyes drifting closed and his head starting to loll on several occasions. It had to be getting close to morning by now. Maybe it was even morning already.

The door beside Meleng opened, and a teenage girl—an apprentice to one of the wizards guarding the next level down—dashed in. “They’ve broken in below!”

“What?” Meleng stammered.

Pedrin hurried over to them. “What do you mean they’ve broken in below?”

“They’ve broken in below,” the girl repeated.

Pedrin shook his head. “But there is no way in from below.”

The girl raised her hands. “We don’t understand either. But they’re in, and they’re comping up.”

Meleng’s heart dropped. Sinitïa was down there.

“Dear gods,” Pedrin muttered. He called out to the wizards at the barricades, who were already looking expectantly in his direction. “Someone inform Jorvan and Feviona.”

Meleng looked to the interior door while Pedrin started calling out several names. He reached for the handle.

Pedrin and three other wizards pushed past him.

“Let me come with you,” Meleng said.

Pedrin shook his head. “We still need you to activate your enchantments if they reach the doors.”

“But Sinitïa’s down there.”

“We’ll do our best to get to her, but we need you here.”

Meleng gritted his teeth and nodded. “Right, of course.”

Pedrin and the wizards headed through the door, followed by the girl who had brought the warning.

Meleng took several slow breaths, tried to stop the shivering overtaking his body. He almost wished this was a dream.

At the front of the hall, the doors were open a crack. Angelida’s young apprentice slipped back in, Feviona behind her. “Feviona’s going to help. Jorvan says he’ll handle the ones outside.”

“Good,” Angelida called back. “Get back into position, Feena.”

The girl pulled the main doors shut, and hurried back to Angelida’s side.

Feviona gave Meleng a smile as she reached him. Don’t worry. I will protect her. She passed through the door.

As the door swung closed again, Meleng reached out and blocked it. To hell with it. He had to check on Sinitïa. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Feviona. He did. He just needed to be sure. He followed.

It was unlikely the Bloods and soldiers outside would get up the steps anyway. Jorvan had the superior position and could handle them easily. Indeed, the fact they’d found some other way in meant those outside were just a distraction anyway. They knew they couldn’t get in.

Gods, he was probably putting everyone in the entrance hall at risk, but he had to do this.

He hesitated and looked back only once.

Feviona gave him a quick look and resigned smile.

I have to, he signed.

I understand.

They hurried down the stairs, past the offices and guest rooms, past the three levels of library stacks, down to the level where the Council Hall was.

Pedrin and one of the other wizards who had gone with him were huddled by the door at the bottom of the stairs. There were yells and shouts coming from the other side.

Meleng paused before reaching the bottom. How would Pedrin react to him being there?

“Oh, thank goodness,” Pedrin said as Feviona reached him. “As best we can tell, there are at least a dozen Bloods and soldiers in the Council Hall. We have six wizards positioned in the hallway, and…”

Feviona paid him no mind, opened the door and went through.

“Oh right,” Pedrin said. “You don’t understand, do you?”

Meleng hurried after Feviona.

“Meleng? But…”

“Sorry,” Meleng muttered as he rushed past Pedrin.

The corridor beyond was full of smoke. Only four of the wizards Pedrin had mentioned were still standing, huddling two apiece in the doorways of the storage rooms on either side of the corridor. The other two lay on the floor in expanding pools of blood. Feviona stepped over them and over the burnt bodies of the Bloods that lay just beyond them. She proceeded along the scorched end of the corridor towards the Council Hall doors where two Bloods stood, each holding a tall, rectangular shield.

“Keep it confined to the corridor where it can’t use its wings,” a voice within the Council Hall yelled.

The two Bloods raised their shields and hooked them together. Then they moved step-by-step forward, the joined shields covering close to the entire width of the corridor.

Feviona paused and tilted her head to the side.

The Bloods continued straight towards her. As they got closer, she straightened her head and took a single step back. She reached out with her free hand and ran her finger along the joined shields as the Bloods rammed into her.

The shields cracked and fell to pieces.

The Bloods stopped and reached for their swords. Feviona ran her finger along the armour of the one on her left. The tabard withered away, and the chain links beneath split and splattered to the ground. Both Bloods stumbled backwards, the now unarmoured one nearly slipping on the pile of chain links at his feet. Feviona ran her sword through his chest.

The other one drew his sword as he continued backwards.

Feviona spread her wings—not fully; there wasn’t room for that—as she walked towards the Blood. The tips scraped along the corridor walls.

The Blood lunged forward. The walls cracked, and pieces of stone flew off and battered against the Blood, pushing him back.

Meleng practically laughed. Had Feviona…? Yes, she had. She’d traced equations with her wings! Gods, she was amazing.

The Blood turned and ran back to the end of the corridor. He banged on the doors. “She’s coming! I can’t hold her back. Let me in!”

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Feviona reached him and he turned to face her. He towered over her, but he backed against the doors in fear. He swung down with his sword. It met hers and shattered.

He drew a dagger and banged on the doors again with his other hand. “Sir, please!”

Feviona ran a finger across his armour, and it fell apart the same way the other Blood’s had. Meleng really wished he could see the equations she was writing.

The Blood looked down at Feviona. “Please don’t kill me.” He was very young, no more than eighteen or nineteen.

Feviona ran her fingers over his clothes. Bit by bit, they rotted away until he was standing there completely naked. He dropped his dagger and whimpered.

Feviona punched him in the groin, then shoved him aside. He ran down the hall, where two of the wizards grabbed his arms and began to tie him up.

Meleng walked up to Feviona. That was amazing.

She nodded to the doors. It is something.

Meleng shook his head. I’m sorry. I don’t understand.

Feviona thought a moment. They are waiting.

Of course! A trap or ambush. He nodded.

Feviona motioned to the wizards. Conjurors?

“You lot,” Meleng said. “You’re mostly conjurors, right?”

“I’m an enchanter,” one young man said, “but the rest are conjurors.”

Meleng nodded to Feviona. Three conjurors.

She pointed to the lock on the doors. I need to conserve power.

Meleng nodded again, and knelt by the lock. He could do this. Breaking the lock should be simple. He ran through the calculations in his head, glancing back at Feviona. He hoped she didn’t think he was taking too long. He traced the equations and added a connector, running a line down the corridor, so he could activate the spell from the other end.

Wind, Feviona said. Lots of wind.

“They’re probably waiting for us to open the doors,” Meleng told the wizards. “I’ll break the lock. Feviona wants lots of wind when I do. Can you do that?”

The three conjurors nodded.

Feviona walked back down the hall to stand beside Meleng behind the conjurors. Now.

“Now!” Meleng said and activated the spell. The lock cracked apart.

The conjurors threw their arms forward and howling winds blew the doors open. A swarm of arrows that would have flown down the corridor and pierced their bodies instead scattered apart and hit the walls and floor as the wind blew them back.

A moment later, the wind stopped and Feviona strode past the conjurors, motioning them to follow her. Meleng started to follow as well, but Feviona pointed at him. You, stay.

But Sinitïa.

But Feviona wasn’t looking at him. She was already striding through the door, the conjurors right behind her.

“What should I do?” the young enchanter said.

Meleng shrugged. “She wants me to wait. I assume you too. Maybe.”

“I’m Fridrin by the way,” the enchanter said.

Meleng nodded, not taking his eyes off the door. “Meleng.” He couldn’t see anything through the door from here, although the sounds of yells from within were very audible.

“Yeah, I know,” Fridrin said. “Nin-Akna’s talked about you. She says we look alike.”

Meleng glanced at him. He didn’t look much like Akna. He was about Meleng’s height with dark, curly hair. He...oh. Akna had meant he looked like Meleng.

There were more yells from inside the Council Hall, then an explosion. Smoke poured through the doorway.

Meleng sighed. He had to know if Sinitïa was okay. Surely peering through the doors wouldn’t hurt? He moved up to them.

“Should we be doing this?” Fridrin hissed.

Meleng didn’t answer and peered inside.

The clearing smoke revealed chairs scattered all over the place, many of them broken and some in flames. A few bodies of soldiers lay amidst the chairs. Several Bloods still stood about the room—six at first guess—some with bows, others with swords and shields. Two of them—armourless—were pushing against a wind blowing into them.

One of the conjurors lay on the ground unmoving, while the other two were just to the right of the centre of the room, one the source of the wind. From the other, a streak of flame shot out at two other Bloods, who huddled behind their shields.

“Remember, it’s all tricks! Chemicals create the flames, acid dissolves the armour. The rest is sleight of hand.” The voice came from one three Bloods in the back corner. Meleng hadn’t noticed them at first. The one speaking appeared to be the one standing behind the other two, but they all wore helmets so it was hard to be sure.

Feviona flew down from above at those three. The front two raised their shields as her sword swung down. It sliced a piece off one of the shields. As she flipped around, the Blood at the back removed his helmet and threw it at her. It hit her in the back and she crashed to the floor.

“See?” the helmetless Blood said. “Lack of space for her to manoeuvre makes her vulnerable.”

Feviona jumped to her feet and spun round as the two front Bloods lowered their shields and raised their swords. One stepped forward, and she jumped back. She didn’t have her sword. She must have dropped it in the fall, but Meleng couldn’t see where it was.

The advancing Blood lunged at her. She leapt into the air, her wings spreading wide. His sword grazed her leg.

Feviona came down on his shoulders, wrapping her legs around his neck, and knocking him over.

The other Blood swung down at her, but she rolled aside, wrapping her wings around herself as she did. The Blood’s sword almost struck his prone companion instead.

Feviona jumped back to her feet and spread her wings again. The two standing Bloods both lunged at her, and she leapt into the air once more.

The one without his helmet picked it up from the floor nearby. He had a scarred face. “It will tire soon.” He placed the helmet back on.

Feviona landed near the two conjurors. There were screams from the two armourless Bloods as they went up in flames. The other four Bloods in the room remained standing though and were getting closer to the centre.

In the far corner, the scarred man and the two Bloods with him advanced forward.

There had to be something Meleng could do to help. His hand went to the sword at his side. It had been hers originally. He drew it.

“Are you any good with that?” Fridrin asked.

Meleng shook his head. “Nope.” But he didn’t need to be. He just needed to be able to throw it far enough. “Feviona!” With every bit of strength he could muster, he threw the sword towards her.

It hit the ground well before reaching her, slid a little closer to her, and stopped.

It didn’t matter. She ran towards it, scooped it up and flew into the air again.

“We need a smokescreen!” Meleng yelled. “Soak the chairs and then burn them!”

One of the conjurors clapped his hands together, and water sprayed out from him in every direction. Bloods rushed at him, one slipping on the now-slick floor. Another fell to Feviona’s blade. Then the other conjuror began targeting the chairs with blasts of fire. A Blood’s sword then pierced his chest just as Feviona flew down and kicked the Blood in the face. The conjuror fell to the floor, blood pooling around him.

The other conjuror took up the task of burning the chairs, but smoke was already starting to spread through the hall.

“Hurry! Back here!” Fridrin called.

The conjuror stopped throwing fire, and ran for the doors. Feviona landed between him and the Bloods. Her sword cut through another of theirs.

The conjuror made it back into the hallway.

“Feviona!” Meleng called.

She backed up a few steps, then turned, and ran into the hallway.

Meleng and Fridrin pulled the doors closed. “The latching mechanism is broken,” Meleng said.

Fridrin rapidly traced equations on the doors. Someone on the other side pulled on them, but the edges of the two doors dissolved into one another. Fridrin let out a long breath. “That should hold them for a little while, I hope.”

Meleng nodded. He needed to learn how to do that.

The formerly double doors, now single barrier shook as people on the other side tried to open it.

Feviona kissed Meleng on the cheek. Thank you for the sword. I will keep it until I get mine back.

Meleng nodded. It’s yours whenever you need it.

There are only four left. We need to lure them into a wider space where we can meet them with greater numbers. Tell these two to keep watch. Then tell Pedrin to gather others and find us a place to meet them. Then you return upstairs. You may be needed.

Meleng smiled and nodded. He’d understood everything she’d said!

But Sinitïa! He hadn’t seen her in there, but the Council Hall was where she, Agernon, and Corvinian were supposed to wait. Did you see Sinitïa?

Feviona shook her head. She was not there.

She must have gotten out somehow. Or she’d been taken prisoner. Meleng gulped. He hoped she was okay.

Go! Feviona said.

Meleng nodded again, and set about the tasks she’d set him.