Kirs didn’t realize they were under attack until it was almost over. Even the arrow sinking into the table with a heavy ‘thunk,’ drew little reaction from her. It wasn’t until the screams started that she understood what was happening.

She first felt the shock of the impact. Saw the fletching, dark feathers on pale wood, the slight gleam of the bronze head. The gleam of blood on its edge. Conversation hadn’t even broken around the tables. People were still avidly sharing their stories about Ranvir. As the supposed leader of the school, most of the students hadn’t seen him before today.

Ayvir had stood up at some point, turning his back on the rest of them. She looked at Es, who was getting to his feet, frowning at the arrow. Sansir and Grevor had also grown quiet, though neither had a good view to see the arrow.

“On your feet!” Ayvir yelled. Everyone fell silent, staring at him oddly.

That’s when Kirs saw the torn cloth of his shoulder. In the early morning light, she couldn’t be sure, but there might’ve been blood on it. The arrow had certainly struck close enough to where he was seated.

“We’re under attack,” Ayvir said, then disappeared in a flash of light. Kirs saw a bubble of darkness appear briefly, then men started screaming. The voices were Ankirian and soon hoarse with pain.

The temperature dropped like a stone as a half dome of ice sealed them to the building. Kirs looked to Sansir, who was finishing the defense with a small opening on the side.

“Dovar,” Grevor said, standing on the table. One boot was on a platter of food, Kirs noted. He’d ruined it. “Check on everyone inside the building. Sansir, guard the dome. Es, protect the students. Amalia and Kas—” he cut off as they both disappeared through the narrow gap in Sansir’s dome. Shrugging, he hurled himself after them in a flash of light. Soon, the cries of panic from the attackers redoubled.

Kirs pushed out of her seat as Dovar rushed into the mansion. “Okay, everybody,” she shouted. “We’re going to move into the lounge, okay?”

Quiet murmurs of agreement sounded from everyone as they got up. Despite the relative lack of experience in the group, there was almost no panic. The Belnavir were on edge, but not panicking. They were villagers living in a society where animals more powerful than any but there Emperor existed. Attacks might not be common, but they knew how to act.

The academy students all had four-years of training at the academy and almost instinctively followed orders. Their demeanor was eager rather than desperate. As if they wanted something to go wrong. An opportunity to prove themselves.

The Korfiyans lived by far the safest lives, and it showed. They weren’t beginners or entirely new to stressful situations. Ranvir claimed most had experienced some form of combat, even if they weren’t combatants. Even then, the old-man, with his half-head of hair, was a clearly calming presence on all three student groups.

“If you would follow Esmund and I, please,” Kirs called, and they started inside the mansion. They ran into Ranvir, carrying Frija on his arm pretty quickly. The little girl’s head moved on a swivel, large-eyes peering nervously in every direction.

“No!” Frija exclaimed, clamping both hands into Ranvir’s hair when he tried to hand her over to Esmund. She was on the verge of tears and he nodded, hugging her tighter. Es gave him a quick rundown as they moved. Mostly known positions of the various members of staff.

“I knew it!” Estrid, the girl from the academy, said. She’d moved closer in the slight confusion of their informal cavalcade moving through the school. “This is a special combat school.”

Ranvir stared blankly at her before turning his head away and continuing down the hall. Murmurs from the rest of the students grew louder, edgier. The Elusrians became more excited, ‘understanding’ dawning on them.

The other two nationalities didn’t appear as excited. Apparently, joining a foreign military force wasn’t high on their to-do-lists.

“Shut it,” Kirs ordered, turning a glare on Estrid. The dark-haired woman gave her a challenging stare. Kirs could vaguely sense her doing something, flexing her soul-sight, she assumed. “You don’t understand what is going on any better than the rest of us do.”

Stolen novel; please report.

“Purists are attacking,” Estrid said. “What else could it be? They are afraid of the threat we represent.”

“Where is Pashar?” Ranvir asked Esmund. The warp-tethered waved his hands in elegantly.

Kirs looked at the increasingly dark looks the students were giving them. They had been very careful in the recruitment process, even taking into consideration that they might be attacked. But neither she, nor any of the others, had considered that they might turn on them because of an over-eager student’s lies.

“We’ll be happy to answer any questions you have once we know everyone is safe,” Kirs said. “If it is Purists who are attacking us, there could be a multitude of reasons. Which we will discuss when the time is appropriate.”

Estrid gave Kirs a narrow-eyed look and shouldered past her. She hesitated as she passed Ranvir, looking at Frija before giving him a flirtatious smile. The empty way Ranvir was staring into the distance led Kirs to believe he missed it. So did Estrid, by the way her face dropped after a moment. Her eyes flicked to Kirs, before turning and walking off.

“At least she’s headed in the right direction,” Es muttered. Kirs nodded, and they got a move on.

They soon found themselves in the lounge, pushing couches to block the most accessible entries.

Ranvir occasionally pulled open purple-rimmed holes in space and spoke a few words. They were too quick and the angles too narrow for Kirs to catch a full understanding. At some point, Dovar, Shiri, and Laila joined as well.

Ranvir opened another space, but this lasted longer than the others. Enough that Kirs made her way over, joined by most of the others.

“It should be done.” It was Grevor’s voice. “Ranvir, it’s the perfect opportunity.” Ranvir’s grim expression didn’t leave Kirs with a happy impression of the subject manner.

“‘Should’ is a strong word. Just take them in for now. We can figure out what we’re going to do later.”

“Fine.”

Ranvir turned to look at the rest of them. Taking a deep breath, he scanned the crowd. Judging from the shiver running over most of them, he used his soul-sight. A few, notably the old Korfiyan, eyes went wide at his gesture. She noted that neither her, nor any of the unawakened seemed to react.

“It was a Purist attack,” Ranvir said. “Mostly untethered, those without power or mana. Since they had no power, they were harder to sense, which is how they got so close. Most of them have been dealt with. We don’t yet know why they attacked the school, but it appears to have been a test. Amalia and Kasos sensed multiple smoke-tethered hiding in the distance. They captured a few, but most got away. Kirs and Dovar, could you work out some defensive options when they try again?”

“I’m sorry, Mighty One,” one the Belnavir said, dropping to their knees. “But they will try again?”

Ranvir looked at him uncomfortably. “Likely, we won’t know for sure, but most of the teachers agree it is possible.”

“What is this about us being a military force?” the long-haired Korfiyan asked.

“Nonsense,” Ranvir said. “Your name is?”

“Morphos.”

Ranvir nodded. “Estrid believes this is some sort of specialized training facility for elite tethered. She is wrong. I wouldn’t associate with this place if that was the case. We’re here to discover and increase our understanding of mana and how it works.”

Estrid’s pinched face said more than a hundred words as she turned and walked away. A few of her fellow Elusrians followed her gaze, but otherwise ignored her. Kirs couldn’t imagine what was running through her mind.

“Very well,” Morphos gave Ranvir a considering look. “You expect us to just take your word for it?”

“I expect you to look at the lessons we provide and make your own judgment. For now, the threat is over and you’re free to leave. I will have someone brought over to check for injuries within the hour. At that time, I will have Alexis here as well. If there’s anything you want or need, tell her and we will work on getting it to you, if possible.”

The students nodded and looked around. They shared a few murmurs. The effect of so many voices under the effect of the translation ritual was a little disorienting. Kirs retreated to get some room of her own.

“How’s it going?” Esmund asked, following her to the corner.

“Fine.” She offered him a smile and took one of his hands in hers.

“I love you, Honey,” he said, looking at her with those slightly changed eyes. There was just a hint of the rainbow remaining in them, even though he wasn’t holding his power. She noticed him looking down and followed his gaze.

Her fingers were shaking around his hand. “Are you sure everything is okay?” he asked, taking both his hands in hers.

There was a weight to his grip that settled her in a way nothing else did. His fingers were calloused and rough. Tough skin pulled against her hand as he caressed her. Familiarity, like coming home from a long trek in winter and settling in front of the hearth, heated her from the inside. There was strength in his hand, symbols of protection and safety. A hundred long nights staring into the ceiling of their bedroom, his thumb caressing the back of her hand. The heat of his fingers, somehow always warmer than hers, encompassed her and seeped up the wrist and into her body.

All of that and a thousand other moments hurdled through her head as he took her fingers in hers. She leaned into him and they fit together. Not naturally, but years of love and labor had worn grooves into both of them. Carving them into an impression of the other. A puzzle tailor-made for the other.

Only then did she feel her hands trembling. She let her eyes close. A shudder ran through her body and she pushed their clutched fingers to her stomach.

She didn’t notice when or how they’d returned to their room, but when she opened her eyes again, they were alone.