Felitïa’s head was a war zone. She couldn’t think of any other way to describe it. Her mystery enemy was assaulting every part of it. She had to keep reforming the Room, had to keep trapping her enemy in a sphere of the walls, which the enemy then broke out of again. And on and on it went.

Yet somehow, she was managing to walk through the Belone palace and communicate with Zandrue, while only occasionally stumbling or groaning in pain. Zandrue always moved to support her with every misstep, but she regained her balance fairly quickly.

The palace was practically empty. There was an occasional servant and an even less occasional guard, but those few ignored her and Zandrue. She wasn’t trying to keep them hidden—she wanted her enemy to find her—though maybe Hedromornasta was. A quick check of the magical energies around her confirmed Hedromornasta was trying to hide her and Zandrue, but his attempts were constantly being foiled. The palace staff ignoring them was probably due to something her enemy was doing.

Good. The more energy her enemy was wasting on keeping the palace staff at bay, the better. Felitïa’s only hope was that her enemy was already substantially weakened.

“We’re just going in circles, aren’t we?” Zandrue said.

Felitïa hesitated in answering, though they were. While the enemy might have been keeping the staff at bay, it wasn’t making it any easier to find the enemy herself. She was keeping herself well hidden. They had been through several locations two or three times already.

There was a tap on Felitïa’s shoulder. It was Hedromornasta, and she stopped moving while he started making a circular motion with his forefinger. He continued to mime the circle several times.

“Yes, I know. We’re going in circles. Zandrue just mentioned it too. Our enemy is probably moving around.”

Hedromornasta groaned, and made another circle with his finger. Then he pointed.

Felitïa stared at him and gave a small shrug.

He did it again: made a circle and then pointed.

Felitïa raised her hands and arms in a wide shrug.

“No, I get it,” Zandrue said. “He’s making a circle, and then pointing to the centre. We’re going in circles, but not going to the centre.”

Felitïa shook her head. “What? Nonsense. We’re…” She stopped. Gods, what a fool she’d been! A quick search through her head located the magical strand blocking her from thinking of the audience chamber room in the centre of the main floor of the palace. A quick yank and it was gone. “The audience chamber! She’s there!”

What a fool she’d been. Her enemy had been using the overt attacks on her head as a distraction from more subtle attacks. Just as Felitïa was hoping her enemy would tire, her enemy was trying to tire her as well.

And given she’d spent months tiring Felitïa, she was doing a much better job of it.

Her head clear now—or clearer, at any rate—she made straight for the audience chamber. Getting there was no problem, though two guards stood in front of the doors. These ones drew their swords and moved to block the way.

Zandrue drew her sword, and Felitïa was about to put them to sleep when they both collapsed to their knees, gasping and dropping their swords. They clutched at their throats as if unable to breathe.

Felitïa glanced at Hedromornasta, shrugged, and walked past the guards. She opened the doors and stepped through.

The chandeliers that normally lit the chamber were mostly unlit now. Only a few of the candles had flickering flames. The little light they provided reflected off the crystal of the chandeliers, causing shadows to dance about the dim room.

A single figure sat at the far end, at the bottom of the steps by the throne. It was Nin-Akna. Her head was lowered and she was dressed oddly, but there was enough light to notice the tattoos on her forehead. What was she doing here? And where was her enemy?

Nin-Akna didn’t look up. “Felitïa! It’s Plavistalorik! She’s doing this.”

Felitïa nodded. As she’d started to suspect. Whoever it was had to be incredibly powerful, which pointed towards an Isyar. That was hardly conclusive, but whoever it was also couldn’t be invisible to literally everyone. Plavistalorik had been in plain sight, but Felitïa hadn’t considered her because she’d successfully convinced Felitïa that she wasn’t a mentalist.

Felitïa walked slowly along the carpet towards Nin-Akna, paying close attention to the flickering shadows. “Where is she?”

“Near,” Nin-Akna said. “I think. Felitïa, you said she wasn’t a mentalist.”

“That’s what I thought. She brought down one of the gargoyles at the Hall of Knowledge. A mentalist couldn’t do that. Or so I thought.”

“Then how?”

“She didn’t. She made them think she did. She made them do it themselves and then altered their memories. At least, that’s my guess.” She spun in a circle, trying to take in all of the room, all of the places Plavistalorik could be hidden. “Am I right?” There was no sign of anyone.

“I don’t think she’s going to answer,” Nin-Akna said.

“No shit.” Felitïa continued towards Nin-Akna. “Why are you just sitting there?”

“Can’t move.”

That made sense. Like Siba and Ezmelda. Felitïa stopped and spun around again.

No sign of everyone.

Zandrue! Hedromornasta.

The main doors slammed shut, removing light that came from outside the chamber.

“Are you all right?” Nin-Akna asked.

Felitïa tuned back towards her. “Do you really need to ask that?”

“I suppose not.”

“I seem to have lost Zandrue.”

“Must be Plavistalorik.”

Felitïa nodded and stopped moving. She was just a few feet from Nin-Akna now. The shadows danced over her still-lowered head.

“Can you do anything to let me move? I can talk, but that’s it. I can’t even raise my head to look at you.”

“Yet you knew it was me.”

“Plavistalorik said you’d be here soon. I figured it had to be you. If I was wrong, I’m sure whoever it was would have corrected me.”

“Hmm.” Felitïa bent down just slightly to try look Nin-Akna in the eyes. “Plavistalorik likes to keep her head lowered.”

“Maybe that’s why she left me this way.”

Felitïa knelt down so her her face was level with Nin-Akna’s. “Could be. Have you seen Anita, by the way? Last I heard, she believed you were dead.”

“Yeah, I saw her just a little while ago. She was in the library. Plavistalorik made it so she couldn’t move either.”

“How about Rudiger?”

“He’s here?”

“Of course he is. You don’t think he’d let Zandrue come alone, do you? But they got separated trying to find me. Zandrue’s worried sick.”

“No, I...I haven’t seen him.”

“How about Quilla?”

“Quilla? What?”

Nin-Akna’s face was even more shrouded in shadow, but Felitïa focused on what she could see of her tattoos. “Meleng? Jorvan? Agernon? Corvinian?”

“Felitïa, what are you going on about? Can’t you just help me?”

“Ezmelda? Hedromornasta? Pedrin? Almais? Danel? Siba? Cerus? Sinitïa?” She began naming everyone she could think of as fast as she could.

“Now you’re just being ridiculous, Felitïa. I think you really have gone crazy from lack of sleep.”

The trick was to cause a break in concentration, even if only momentary.

“Nin-Chicahua? Nin-Xoco? Ses-Tlacotl? Did you tell Anita we slept together?”

That did it.

One of the stylistic jaguar spots moved. Just a tiny bit. But it was all she needed.

Felitïa stood up, and Nin-Akna looked up with a scowl.

* * * * *

In the Room in her head, Felitïa ran. Out into the depths of her mind, past purple and the clap of thunder. Through the scent of lilacs and Zandrue’s laugh.

Behind her, Plavistalorik’s presence followed, tentacles sweeping out and wrapping around her. Felitïa slipped out of the first few, but the next ones pulled her down among yellow and the softness of Lon’s and Nesh’s fur.

She kicked at the tentacles, furiously tried to push them aside, but more came down upon her. She brought down the black walls and tried to wrap them around Plavistalorik, but several pieces fell away before they could form a complete sphere. The tentacles wrapped tighter around Felitïa. They squeezed and squeezed and…

Plavistalorik’s presence exploded and was gone.

Felitïa looked at the yellow and touched the softness. There was no sign of Plavistalorik. Where had she gone?

* * * * *

With a scream, Nin-Akna fell backwards, the disguise fading away, revealing Plavistalorik lying on her back. Her arms, legs, and wings twitched, and her mouth trembled.

Behind her, nearer the throne, Nin-Akna—presumably the real one?—rose shakily to her feet from where she had previously been hidden.

What had happened?

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No. No time to worry about that now. Plavistalorik was vulnerable.

Felitïa clenched her fists together and stared at Plavistalorik.

Nothing happened.

She concentrated harder and dug her nails into her palms. Still nothing. Plavistalorik’s defences were still too great.

The Isyar pulled herself to her feet and glared back at Felitïa, then vanished.

Damn it!

Felitïa tried to focus and find the indications of where Plavistalorik was.

Will-Breaker.

Felitïa sneered. You can’t hide from me for long.

No, you misunderstand, Will-Breaker. I am not Plavistalorik. My name is Mikranasta. My siare, Hedromornasta was with with you until recently. I have come with Jorvanultumn to help you.

Felitïa scanned the audience chamber as well as the Room in her head. Were you responsible for what happened to Plavistalorik?

Yes, though I regret that I am very limited in how often I can do that.

If Plavistalorik was still in the audience chamber, she was doing a very good job of staying hidden. Given how much more skilled she was than Felitïa, that was a distinct possibility. Why don’t you come out where I can see you and we can face her together?

I’m not there. I am using Nin-Akna as a proxy of sorts. If I had come in person, Plavistalorik would have detected me and likely fled. The only way to draw her out was to hide in Nin-Akna’s consciousness. Unfortunately, it also means I am limited in what I can do to help. But I will help as best I can.

She knows you’re here now. Won’t that make her flee?

Except I’m not with you. She knows that and will likely think my presence will not be enough to turn the tide of the battle.

Felitïa walked over to Nin-Akna. But I take it, she’s wrong?

I hope so, but if I’m being honest, I doubt it. You are in bad shape, Will-Breaker. I’m frankly surprised you’ve held out this long already.

Well, that makes two of us.

Nin-Akna was leaning against the throne, breathing heavily.

Felitïa held out her hand. “You all right?”

Nin-Akna took the hand, then hugged Felitïa. “Felitïa, I’m so sorry.”

“For what?”

“I couldn’t do anything. I couldn’t move or speak.”

“Not your fault.”

The main doors of the chamber flew open, and Zandrue and Hedromornasta ran into the room. “Felitïa!” Zandrue called. “You all right?”

“For now.” Felitïa squeezed Nin-Akna’s shoulders. “I have to find her. You stay here. This isn’t a fight you can help with.” She walked towards Zandrue.

Be wary, Will-Breaker.

Felitïa smiled at Zandrue and looked her over.

No shadows in the flickering light.

She walked right past Zandrue without any further acknowledgement. Hedromornasta, too. She’s getting careless in her desperation. Or she’s running out of power.

Or she wants you to think that, Mikranasta said. As I said, be wary.

Felitïa nodded, then realised there was no way Mikranasta could have seen that.

I didn’t see it, but I’m aware of it.

Interesting.

* * * * *

In the Room, Mikranasta’s presence was unlike the others. It was bigger and brighter, perhaps because Mikranasta wanted her to see it. It was also a magical projection. Her actual telepathic presence was not here because she was not in Felitïa’s general vicinity in the real world.

Plavistalorik had also been in her head magically. She wasn’t telepathic—that much Felitïa had worked out—and was reliant entirely on mentalism magic. But she was also somewhere in Felitïa’s general vicinity. At least, Felitïa hoped she was still somewhere in the vicinity and hadn’t run. But the illusions of Zandrue and Hedromornasta implied she wasn’t running. That meant her actual presence had to be somewhere in the Room, just hidden by magic.

Felitïa focused, searched for the webs of magic.

There! She was getting better at this.

A presence was hidden behind Nin-Akna’s. It shot at her, and pushed her back into the roughness of rocks and howls of wolves. She pushed back, but it kept sliding her farther from the room.

No, this wasn’t what she she’d been looking for, after all. This was Plavistalorik’s magical presence, and she clearly didn’t want Felitïa finding her real one.

Mikranasta’s presence grabbed hold of Plavistalorik and held her back. It was not the explosive effect of before, but it gave Felitïa a momentary distraction.

She ran back to the Room. She had to find Plavistalorik’s real presence. There was no way she could fight her magically. Plavistalorik was the more powerful wizard. Even at full strength, Felitïa wouldn’t stand a chance. She had to fight her telepathically. But did she even know how to do that?

At the edge of the Room, Plavistalorik and Mikranasta continued to struggle. Mikranasta’s presence was getting smaller and dimmer. Time was running out.

Felitïa swept the Room. She flipped it over, pulled every section up to her and examined it. Then she turned the Room inside out and did it again.

A thin, almost invisible hint of mentalism magic caught her eye. There were lots of those here now, remnants of both Mikranasta’s and Plavistalorik’s magic. But this one was different. It wasn’t floating away and vanishing. It was holding its shape and staying in one place.

Felitïa grabbed it and shredded it.

Plavistalorik’s presence appeared, near Zandrue’s.

Felitïa leapt for it, but something grabbed her. Plavistalorik’s magical presence wrapped around her, blocking out all sight she had of the Room or the rest of her mind. There was nothing—no colours, no smells, no sounds, no feelings. Just blackness squeezing in, cutting her off from her body.

* * * * *

Felitïa fell to the floor, unable to breathe. She wretched and gasped, tried to pull in breath, but her throat wouldn’t open. It was like large, thick hands were around her throat, squeezing tighter and tighter. She tried to grab at those hands, but there was nothing there.

“Felitïa!”

Nin-Akna ran over and bent over her. “What’s happening? What can I do?”

Felitïa could almost see Agranim on top of her again, strangling her to death. Just like he’d tried on Scovese before she’d killed him.

Except this time, he wasn’t there to kill. There was just the memory of it, and the spell was making that memory actually kill her.

Zandrue stood over them. “We have to find that Isyar. That’s the only way to save Felitïa.” Then she ran out of sight.

Nin-Akna hesitated. “We can’t just leave her.”

Felitïa did her best to speak, but nothing came out.

“We’re not,” Zandrue’s voice came back.

Nin-Akna nodded, stood up, and moved out of sight.

Felitïa lay there, clutching at her neck, instinctively pulling at the non-existent hands, but grasping only at air, her skin, and the prayer bead necklace.

The prayer beads!

She grabbed hold of the necklace, closed her eyes, and concentrated. She couldn’t block out the pain the way she had on Scovese, so she had to hope she could maintain concentration despite the pain. She just had to last long enough for Zandrue and Nin-Akna to find Plavistalorik.

She focused and calmed her movements. Stilled her body. She slid one bead over and tried to inhale slowly. A tiny drop of air made it into her. It wasn’t much, but it was something. Her body could still breathe; it was just being fooled into believing it couldn’t. She just had to unfool it just a little.

“There!” Zandrue called.

“Where?”

“Where Hedromornasta is pointing!”

Felitïa drew in another snippet of breath.

* * * * *

The blackness continued to squeezed tighter and tighter. There were no sensations. It wasn’t even blackness, really. It was just emptiness.

But then a crack appeared, green and sweetness slipping through.

Felitïa focused, grabbed the edges of the crack, and pulled. The crack resisted at first, but then opened wider.

* * * * *

Felitïa gasped for breath. This time, the air poured in. She took several grateful breaths, and propped herself up on her elbows.

Across the chamber, Nin-Akna had Plavistalorik pinned against the wall. She punched the Isyar in the face. Near her, Zandrue stood with her sword frozen in mid-swing. Another punch from Nin-Akna, and Zandrue stumbled back. But then so did Nin-Akna, letting go of Plavistalorik.

Nin-Akna looked frantically around, as did Zandrue.

“She’s still there!” Felitïa croaked.

Except she wasn’t. The Isyar was now running towards the door.

Damn it. Felitïa had to stop her somehow.

* * * * *

In her head, Felitïa stepped back into the Room and ran for Plavistalorik’s presence, but it was gone.

The Isyar’s magical presence was rushing towards Felitïa again. Hedromornasta’s magical presence moved to block her way, but there was no sign of Mikranasta.

Finding Plavistalorik’s presence was much easier this time. She really was getting better at this—or Plavistalorik was tiring. It didn’t matter which. She grabbed the presence.

Pain shot through her as one of the traps in the grey walls triggered. Then another, and another. Felitïa stumbled, but held on to the presence. The pain was unbelievably intense, but she could withstand it. She had to. If these traps were deadly, Plavistalorik would have used them by now. They were meant as a distraction.

She gritted her teeth—was she doing that in the real world? probably—and yanked at the presence.

Plavistalorik’s magical presence threw Hedromornasta aside and his magical presence winked out. She ran for Felitïa.

Felitïa squashed the presence down into a tube. Then she pushed herself into it and entered Plavistalorik’s mind.