A bitter wind blew across the front of the Hall of Knowledge. Meleng wasn’t sure if it was natural or whipped up by Jorvan. It didn’t really matter which; only its presence mattered.

Most of the Hall of Knowledge conjurors were now lining up in front of the now-open main doors at the top of the steps. Most of the enchanters, including Meleng huddled behind them. Jorvan and Feviona circled above. A few wizards, including Pedrin, remained inside to watch in case Mitchal Plavin and the Bloods inside tried to come up from behind.

Down below, the soldiers and Bloods scrambled about, gathering bows and other weapons. Some attempted to ready a broken ballista. They clearly knew they were about to come under attack, and were panicking.

Jorvan would give the signal to attack. The plan was to not wait long. They couldn’t be given time to prep a defence. Even though Meleng knew it had been a matter of seconds since he’d stepped through the door, the wait still seemed interminable.

Then the wind picked up. It blew past the wizards, ruffling hair and clothes as it flowed down the front of the building, picking up speed as it went. It tore into the forces below, knocking off archers’ aims, scattering small unattended objects, even causing some people to slip on the icy ground and collide with others.

Fire and ice erupted from the conjurors, shooting down at the Bloods, hitting some, missing others, also hitting a few of the Belone soldiers. The plan was to target the Bloods and avoid killing too many of the others. Unlike the Bloods, who had chosen their life, many of the other soldiers had likely been conscripted and weren’t entirely here by choice.

Near Meleng, Angelida clutched her fists in front of her. She flicked them open and thin shards of metal shot out. It was hard to see exactly where they went from this distance, but a Blood who looked like he might be in line with them did fall over.

Feviona flew down, weaving between the streams of fire, ice, rock, and metal. Her sword cut through the Bloods’ armour like it wasn’t even there. One Blood went down. She swerved round. Another Blood dropped. She flipped over and swiped her sword through a passing ball of fire. The blade came away flaming. She then drove it through a Blood’s helmet and his head. She pulled the sword free and flew back over the top of the forces.

Jorvan had said Feviona was a very good flyer. Meleng was now convinced that had been a massive understatement.

“Damn it.”

Meleng glanced at Fridrin beside him.

Fridrin was squatted against the wall, rapidly tracing equations onto a piece of glass. As he completed one, the glass shifted and bulged a little. He shook his head and traced a new equation, and the glass changed its shape again.

“You okay?” Meleng asked and turned his attention back to the battle. He was supposed to be watching for anyone trying to get away.

“This is harder than I expected. The noise is very distracting.”

“Just stay calm.” There was so much smoke below now. Anyone who wanted to get away had more than enough concealment. Meleng suspected numerous people were already taking advantage of that. Even if he could see them, he had no idea how he would be able to tell which ones might be messengers and which ones were just trying to flee.

“There,” Fridrin said.

Meleng looked back again. The glass in Fridrin had reshaped into a magnifying lens. Fridrin handed it to Meleng, then pulled out another piece of glass and started tracing equations on it.

Meleng held the lens up to his eye and peered over the battlefield. There was still a lot of smoke obscuring things, but at least with the magnification, he could more easily distinguish between shapes in the smoke. He still had no idea how to determine if any of them were messengers. He decided he should just pick a random shape and follow that person as far as he could. A shape that looked lightly encumbered, able to move swiftly.

They had ultimately decided that finding and catching such a messenger was probably not going to happen, but it was worth trying anyway. However, Feviona was also going to make certain to take a few prisoners for interrogation.

Meleng spotted a figure near the back right. There was less smoke there. The individual wore the Belone tabard but did not appear to be armed. They were running away from the battle.

Feviona flew past Meleng’s field of vision. When she had passed, Meleng couldn’t see the individual anymore. After a moment of searching, however, he spotted them again. They were running down one of the streets. Thankfully, the locals had cleared out, probably holed up indoors, so it was easy to spot people on the streets.

Meleng nudged Fridrin, then pointed.

Fridrin had managed to create a second lens and turned his attention towards where Meleng was pointing. Unfortunately, the individual was now getting far enough away that even the magnification was not helping, so Meleng doubted Fridrin could see anything.

“Probably just a deserter,” Fridrin said.

“Maybe,” Meleng said. “But it gives us one possible direction.”

That one possible direction soon became one of a dozen or more. So many others were scattering. Some of the Bloods yelled for them to return, but even some of the Bloods were running too.

Feviona flew down at one of the Bloods not fleeing. She flipped around as she reached him, not striking with her sword, but instead running her fingers across his chest. His armour crumbled away. He tried to grab her, but she flipped over again, batting him with her wing before flying away.

Ice rose up by the Blood, flowing like water over his feet and lower legs and affixing him to the ground. He bent over and tried to yank his feet free, but more ice rose from the ground in two columns, wrapping around his wrist and arms. He struggled, but the ice held him in place.

Feviona landed between two remaining Bloods. When they both ran at her, she leapt into the air again. Each of her wings made brief contact with the Bloods before she was out of their reach. Both Bloods froze in their tracks. Their armour collapsed inwards. Meleng held back some bile as their armour crushed the Bloods, spraying blood out in every direction.

Meleng lowered the magnifying lens and followed Feviona’s path through the sky with his bare eyes. Gods, she was astounding. How in the world did she manage to trace two equations simultaneously, especially with her wings while still using them to fly?

Several of the conjurors, including Angelida, were slowly descending the stairs. Jorvan must have removed the ice sheet that had covered the steps, as it was now gone. The conjurors continued to throw fire, ice, and more at what remained of the opposing force, but there weren’t a whole lot left now.

Another Blood fell, leaving only the armourless one held by Jorvan’s ice. A moment later, Feviona landed. She crossed the battlefield systematically, running her sword through the bodies of the Bloods, making sure none of them still clung to life.

Fridrin nudged Meleng. “We should probably join them.” The remaining conjurors and enchanters were starting down the steps.

“Shouldn’t we let Pedrin know?”

“Feena already went to do that. You’ve been too busy watching Feviona.” Fridrin chuckled. “Don’t blame you. I can only dream of being a tenth the wizard she is. But she’s an Isyar. She’ll always be better than anything we can muster.”

Meleng nodded, and they started down the steps.

“You two are pretty close, aren’t you?”

“She’s my fomaze.”

Fridrin gave him a blank look.

Meleng smiled. “It’s an Isyar thing. Kind of makes you more than a friend, less than a spouse. Sort of. I’m still getting used to it myself.”

“Are you...I mean…” Fridrin paused in stumbling over words to stumble on the slippery steps.

Meleng reached out to help steady him, and then they continued.

“What I was trying to say is, aren’t you with Princess Sinitïa?”

“Yeah, she’s…she’s my…” Fear shot through him, and his heart beat faster. “I don’t even know if she’s alive. I have to find her.”

“Oh, oh my,” Fridrin said. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…”

“It’s okay.” Meleng picked up his pace. “I need to get to Feviona.” He nearly slipped a couple of times in his rush to reach the bottom.

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The wizards had spread out across the battlefield. Most were checking on the injured soldiers and rounding up those who could still move unaided. Feviona and Jorvan were by the captured Blood. Meleng hurried over to them.

Angelida joined them just as Meleng reached them. “I’d say that went well. Does he know anything?”

“He is refusing to speak,” Jorvan said.

The Blood spat at Jorvan. “I don’t speak to lesser beings.”

Angelida smacked him in the face with her cane, then used the cane to point at Feviona. “That...lesser being as you put it just slaughtered most of your compatriots. You would do well to listen to both of these people and answer their questions if you know what’s good for you.”

The Blood spat blood on the ground. “I don’t acknowledge you either.”

Angelida leaned in closer to him. Normally, the Blood would be much taller than her, but in the hunched-over state he was held in, she was able to speak directly into his ear. “You stupid boy. What do you think you’re doing right now?” The Blood tried to bite her, but she stepped back with a laugh.

He really was a boy. Sixteen or seventeen. Maybe younger. Blood trickled from his lip and he looked about to cry. Meleng shook his head sadly.

Jorvan said something in Isyarian to Feviona. She nodded in response.

“What was that?” the Blood said.

Jorvan said something else, and Feviona smiled broadly.

“What are you going on about?” the Blood demanded.

Jorvan looked at him, feigning surprise. “Oh, are you talking to me? You said you would not speak to me, so I thought it must be someone else.”

The Blood spat at him again, but there was less energy to it.

“We know you have a way into the Hall of Knowledge,” Jorvan said. “It is presumably an underground passage. Where is it?”

The Blood grunted.

Meleng pointed. “I saw someone running that way. There were a lot of people running, but none of them went that way. It doesn’t mean anything, but…” He shrugged.

“Was that a messenger?” Jorvan asked the Blood. “Is that the way to the tunnel?”

The Blood grunted again and stared at the ground.

“It would be wise to answer, boy,” Angelida said.

The Blood pointedly looked away from her.

Jorvan sighed. “I do not wish to cause you pain. If you would just answer…”

Still the Blood didn’t answer.

Someone else was calling though.

Meleng looked back to the Hall of Knowledge. Feena stood at the top of the steps, waving and calling. Some of the wizards were heading to the steps towards her.

“I’ll find out what’s happening.” Angelida pressed the bottom of her cane against the Blood’s cheek. “Find out what this fool knows.” She shoved her cane and he cried out. Then she turned and walked towards the steps.

“I suspect she will do worse when she returns,” Jorvan said. “You would do best to do as she says. Tell us the way to the tunnel.”

The Blood spat more blood. “Fuck you.”

Feviona stormed up. We don’t have time for this. Tell him to speak or there will be more of this.

Jorvan looked at her quizzically, but nodded. “My fomase says to speak or she will do more.”

The Blood growled. “More what?”

Jorvan looked back to Feviona.

She traced a short equation on the Blood’s ear. He screamed as the ear shrivelled up, pieces flaking away like dry dander until the ear was gone.

Meleng gulped.

“Well?” Jorvan said.

The Blood looked up. Bloody tears covered his face, and he sobbed. “All right, all right. I’ll tell you.” He nodded vaguely in the direction Meleng had indicated. “It’s not that way. It’s...it’s…” He tried to twist his head round, but it clearly wouldn’t turn far enough. “The other side of the Hall of Knowledge. I can give you directions or even show you, but please don’t let her near me again. Please! Please! I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Jorvan nodded. “I will let you go, but if you run, she will kill you.”

“I won’t run, I swear. Please!”

A couple slow sweeps of Jorvan’s arm retracted the ice holding the Blood. He stumbled forward and fell face-first to the ground. He lay there sobbing.

That was a bit harsh, wasn’t it? Jorvan signed.

Feviona frowned. They have our fomaze. I will tear this city apart to find her if I need to. Watch him. She strode forward, took Meleng’s arm, and led him towards the Hall steps.

Jorvan called out something in Isyarian, but Feviona didn’t look back.

You okay? Meleng asked.

Feviona took a deep breath and nodded. I’m just tired. I’ve used a lot of magical energy. Jorvanultumn knows what I’m like when this happens. I’ll apologise to him later. He’ll understand. She moved behind him and looped her arms under his shoulders.

Meleng gulped and gripped her arms tightly. Then she spread her wings and leapt into the sky.

Meleng closed his eyes as cold air rushed past him. He wasn’t sure he would ever get used to this.

Luckily, it was a short trip, mere seconds before they landed and she let go of him.

He opened his eyes. They were at the top of the steps near Feena and some of the other wizards. They had made it up here before Angelida, who was still halfway up the steps.

“What’s happening?” Meleng asked.

“We got a message from the Bloods inside,” Feena said. “From their leader. He...uh…” She lowered her eyes.

Meleng bit his lower lip.

“He has the Princess. As well as Agernon and the young boy. He says he’ll kill the Princess and Agernon if we don’t surrender. He’s given us half an hour. It’s probably down to twenty minutes now.”

Meleng spun round to face Feviona. They’re going to kill Sinitïa in twenty minutes.

Feviona stood there a moment, breathing deeply. Then she moved behind Meleng again, and looped her arms under his shoulders.

“We can get to the underground passage,” Meleng told Feena. “Tell Pedrin we’ll come up from behind. You need to stall Plavin as long as you can.”

Feena nodded as Feviona lifted Meleng into the air.

Meleng kept his eyes open this time as they flew back to Jorvan. It was too short a trip to develop vertigo. Or perhaps he was just too determined. Either way, the trip didn’t bother him.

The Blood was siting on the ground beside Jorvan, shivering. Whether from fear or the cold, Meleng couldn’t be sure. Both probably.

“They’re going to kill Sinitïa in twenty minutes,” Meleng told Jorvan.

“I have the directions to the tunnel. It should not be hard to find. We can fly there quickly.” Jorvan looked to Feviona and began speaking in Isyarian.

Feviona shook her head. No. One of us needs to stay on this side to provide support for the human wizards.

Jorvan responded in Isyarian again. There was a protesting quality to his voice and he moved his arms about agitatedly.

No. I’m the stronger, faster flyer. You know that. We don’t have time to argue. I will take Meleng. It only needs the two of us.

Jorvan sighed and nodded. He said one last thing in Isyarian, then placed a hand on Meleng’s shoulder. “I will see you soon. Be careful.”

Meleng nodded and they touched foreheads briefly.

Jorvan approached Feviona.

Be careful, she said. The piss-faced commander will choose a confined area. You will not be able to use your wings.

Jorvan nodded.

Now tell me the directions.

Jorvan spoke for a short time in Isyarian. Then the two of them touched foreheads. After that, Jorvan spread his wings and flew to the Hall entrance.

Ready? Feviona asked.

Meleng gritted his teeth and nodded. Once more, Feviona looped her arms around him. She kissed the back of his neck, then leapt into the air.