Metaworld Chronicles: The Girl of Iron
Date: 2024-10-29T18:00:00+00:00
Description: A family Gwen did not know she had. A city of dubious ties in which she is an outsider. A hostile world of hierarchy and order seeking to exploit her powers of the Void. Now in the middle of her University years at Fudan, Shanghai, Gwen will carve out a bloody niche for herself and her friends, wrought from the sheer presence of her beauty and her terror, aided by her zippy Ariel and an all-consuming Caliban. Continue Gwen's adventures as she reconnects with her father's Clan and makes peace with a past she is only beginning to discover. Join her endeavours as she ventures into the hive cities

The Girl of Iron

David J. Wuto

Mango Media LLC

Dedication

To Jenny

For reading my terrible first drafts

Blurb

A family Gwen did not know she had. A city of dubious ties in which she is an outsider. A hostile world of hierarchy and order seeking to exploit her powers of the Void. Now in the middle of her University years at Fudan, Shanghai, Gwen will carve out a bloody niche for herself and her friends, wrought from the sheer presence of her beauty and her terror, aided by her zippy Ariel and an all-consuming Caliban. Continue Gwen's adventures as she reconnects with her father's Clan and makes peace with a past she is only beginning to discover. Join her endeavours as she ventures into the hive cities of Shanghai's Districts, haunted by a scarlet-eyed avenger seeking redress against Gwen's path of destruction.

Copyright © David Jian Wu 2021 produced by Mango Media LLC

All rights reserved.

No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law. For permission requests, contact the publisher at admin@mangomediapublishing.com.

The story, all names, characters, and incidents portrayed in this production are fictitious. No identification with actual persons (living or deceased), places, buildings, and products is intended or should be inferred.

Book cover by Sanwansen. Typesetting by Miblart.

Contents

1. A Course of Course

2. Off to See the Wizard

3. Dog Whistles

4. Questions and Answers

5. A Trojan Gift Horse

6. A Gift Once Given

7. Preparatory

8. Fault Lines

9. The Great Divide

10. Picking Up the Pieces

11. Regrets

12. Mixture and Admixtures

13. Skinner's Box

14. Queries and Answers

15. Good Neighbours

16. Knots

17. The Age of Experience

18. Orientation

19. Lessons of Life

20. A Bob on the Snout

21. Classes and Classes

22. Mo Money, No Problems

23. Routine

24. The Troubles

25. Paternal Issues

26. A Charmed Life

27. Fight or Flight

28. The Wrong Way to Duel

29. Indigestion

30. The Greener Grass

31. The Damned

32. When the Red MistRolls In

33. Blood and Guts

34. Hesitation at the Threshold

35. Between Concrete and a Hard Place

36. Once More Untothe Breach

37. No Place Should Murder Sanctuarise

38. Mightier than the Sword

39. Dreams of Tomorrow

Thank You

Glossary

Elements & Elemental Magic

Chapter one

A Course of Course

Apronounced donk! sounded around the empty training hall.

"Urrgh! My brain feels like it's fallen into the Elemental Plane of Magma." Gwen slumped against the table.

In front of her, spread across the entire two-metre pane, sat a chaotic spread of pamphlets, a dozen course guides, and an old vid-cast projector with a collection of Capture Crystals on the history of the universities in Shanghai.

Her frontal lobe throbbed. Maybe it was her oversensitive Divination senses, but every time she tried to map out the next three to four years, she felt a tingling chill shooting up her spine. A warning sign, sure. But there was a reward in risk, right?

After sifting through a dozen combinations of various courses at various universities, Gwen envisioned herself banging her head against the wall repeatedly. Whatever her Master's plans had been, the circumstances in China were too different to adhere to her original five-year road map.

In Australia, when senior students completed the high school course and received their Australian tertiary academic rank, they were typically faced with four to five choices jointly distributed around an aggregate score.

In New Sydney, where Mermen still lurked in the flooded sewers, the percentile band required for entrance into the top universities were for ranked students and those with the connections. Under Henry's tutelage, she had never doubted her place at the table of the elites. For this reason, the concept of course selections had not occurred to Gwen because Henry had known better than herself what course would suit her talents and there wasn't much for choice in the Frontier.

In a second-tier city, tertiary Spellcraft only offered barebones advanced Spellcraft for Mages who were interested in arcane theory and the creation of signature spells, offering training for incantations between tiers four to seven. More militant-minded Mages could furthermore partake in the Combat Mage curriculum, a university staple, taken in conjunction with mandatory military service, offering Spellcraft training for Mages seeking permanent employment with the Frontier military. Outside the academic courses, there were offshoots, sub-schools and specialisations in Schools of Magic, but insofar as coursework was concerned, that was the gist of it.

Lesser colleges attached to the universities catered only for career specialists such as Spellcraft Engineering, a course for Abjurers and Transmuters seeking to enter the construction, civil architecture and shielding development. Likewise, "apprenticeships" offered those with talent the instruction to create magic items. Rarer courses like Mechatronics and Artifice were taken under state-sanctioned Masters.

Finally, a student had to complete "general" coursework as part of the Mage's Spellcraft training. These courses accepted both Mages and NoMs, offering a selection of core skills such as accounting, leadership, appraisal, creature husbandry, agriculture, geography and more frivolous content such as literature, music, and the arts. NoM-related content was taught not by the universities themselves, but by individuals attached to universities such as the Apothecarum in Sydney University.

But as the wise, plane-hopping young Dorothy Gale once said to Toto, "We're not in Kansas anymore."

The choice that now assailed Gwen was the enviable matter of choosing a university and selecting a course tailored to the nation's "elites". Unlike the highly censored coursework of the Frontier, taught on a need-to-know basis, a first-tier city's universities provided far more nuance.

A "First-Year" underwent general induction, featuring six mandatory Spellcraft topics and two general study subjects, based upon recommendations made by a senior advisor.

Second-year students were required to pick specialisations in their Schools of Magic and engage in specific fields of study. A Transmuter, for instance, could select Advanced Construction in Material Science. An Evoker could choose Energy Manipulation and Spell Shaping, and an Illusionist would choose Media and Communication or Intermediate Illusions, and so on.

In their third year, students gained the opportunity to study under Magisters or renowned specialists in their field. Typically, this was when students began to make a name for themselves, take on apprenticeships, register signature spells, compose research papers on arcane lore, discover new species of magical creatures or document novel ways to kill and harvest existing ones.

Post-graduate courses were also available for students wishing to stay with the faculty and engage in research, with results judged by the university and the academic board, ultimately receiving a stipend for contributions to advancing Spellcraft. Petra had stated that her path lay in this direction, wishing to become a scholar of the arcane arts instead of serving in the military or inundating herself with Tower politics.

As for Gwen's preference of universities, there was the choice of Jian Tong, Fudan, Dong Hua, and the militant-minded Shanghai Maritime.

Of the "Great Four", Jian Tong and Fudan were the most academically inclined.

"The mid-term intake is in early May, which is three weeks away," her babulya informed Gwen and Richard after the family gathered for morning tea. "Both of you have commendations from Magus Shultz, courtesy of the Pudong Tower, so making the shortlist shouldn't be an issue. May I assume you will be joining Fudan? I mean, there are only two C9 Universities in Shanghai, and Fudan is the superior one considering that you’re both ex-pats. Jian Tong may be the more prestigious of the two, but only if you intend to work with the PLA."

"So, Fudan," Gwen considered the name thoughtfully. "Petra is there, right?"

"She is." Babulya nodded. "It is also my old college."

"But Jian Tong offers two teams for the International University Competition, and Fudan only has one."

To carry out what she and Gunther had planned, Gwen, and preferably Richard, absolutely needed to qualify for the university team by Second Year. The competition took place in the second semester and could take up to four months, from August to December.

Thinking of their final objective, Gwen felt an inkling as to why her babulya was pushing for Fudan so forcibly. Assuming Gunther had already told her of their aim, her babulya likely felt that if Gwen and Richard were to inevitably distinguish themselves, they might as well do so under the auspice of her alumni, killing two Rocs with one catapult.

Like her peers, Klavdiya had maintained a web of Guanxi nurtured over four decades, and it was one of these favours that had overruled her husband, allowing Jun free passage to retrieve her granddaughter.

"How about you, Richard? What do you want to do?" Klavdiya turned to him, seeing that Gwen remained undecided.

"Whatever she wants," Richard said without hesitation. "That or something complementary, but we need to be in the same university, if possible. That includes the general courses as well, I suppose."

"How many general courses do we have to take?" Gwen asked.

"Two per year, and you can choose to do higher ones if you pass the prerequisites."

"I see." Gwen considered the exponential volume of options opening up before her, looking to the older Richard. "Are the general courses worthwhile?"

It was her babulya who answered her. "Don't look down on the non-magical courses, Gwen. It may sound strange, but it is the general courses that make the C9 universities so valuable."

"How so?"

"How else are you going to learn about civics, oratory, arts, history and politics?" Her babulya laughed. "You can inherit talent, you can hoard arcane secrets, you can hunt down rare ingredients, but if you want to have your Tower, then you'd better take some leadership and governance courses, even if your instructors are Non-Magical citizens."

"I see." Gwen supposed it was inevitable that those Mages who graduated from an elite university would one day become the ruling tier of the city.

"It's true," Richard explained. "To qualify for the possession of a demesne in the Frontier, one must complete a post-graduate course in good governance. Having NoM instructors at the university offered students who had grown up around Mages the perspective necessary to recognise life skills outside of Spellcraft."

"Alright, are there economics courses?" Gwen asked. She already possessed a Master's degree in International Business and an MBA to boot. Maybe it was finally time she could tap into the privilege of prior knowledge.

"Of course." Richard laughed. "Accounting, appraisal, corporate law."

"What about finance?"

"Sure, it's somewhere in there."

"Management?"

"Naturally," Richard pointed to one of the course booklets Gwen had flipped through. "Thinking of starting your demesne already, are you?"

"Babulya," Gwen turned to her grandmother, "what do I do to become an MBA?"

"It's called A-B-M, dear," babulya corrected her kindly. "It's a particularly challenging selection of subjects and typically reserved for the best and the brightest. If you're interested, I can probably put a line through to the faculty head of the department."

Excellent! Gwen speculated on the prospect of enrolling in a course for Administration of Business and Management. She could probably ace it with distinction without breaking a sweat, as long as she could translate her knowledge over to this world.

"How difficult is it?" Gwen caught the tail end of Babulya's affecting speech. The ABM course was probably challenging because students in this world had little contact with finance, economics and corporate management.

"Very." Her babulya's patience was infinite. "If you wish to match your legendary brother-in-craft or even the self-taught Ms De Botton, specialising in Aerial Combat is a foregone conclusion."

"Aerial combat?" Gwen realised that there must have been a missing link in their game of Chinese whispers.

"Aerial Battle Mage," Richard added helpfully. "It's the most promising tier of proficiency in the Arcana Curriculum. The booklet says that the course is jointly taught by instructors from the Tower and the PLA. The coursework comes with everything—dogfighting, passive incantation, mana conservation and spatial training. I think we ought to take it. Good choice, Gwen."

These crazy battle Mages! Gwen bit her lower lip awkwardly. "Of course, I wouldn't dream of skipping it."

Now with the misunderstanding clarified, Gwen persisted. "Is there a course for Business Marketing and Consultancy?"

Richard and Klavdiya meet one another's eyes, appearing confused by her request.

"Gwen, is this one of your 'NoM and Mages are of equal dignity' tangents?" Richard asked. "I know you're unusually sympathetic to them, but let's not get sidetracked from your Spellcraft education."

"Business is for the NoMs, Gwen." Babulya's face took on a slight sign of worry as well. "As well as this 'Finance'. A Magister can level towns and raise mountains. A Magi can reduce entire civilisations to ash. What good could be served by hoarding crystals and currency? Magical currency should be immediately converted to power to enhance one's mettle. Once you become a sanctioned Magus, earthly wealth becomes trivial. I mean, have you ever heard of an impoverished Magus or Magister?"

"Doesn't more capital mean I can purchase more items for training?" Gwen was a woman of two thousand HDMs, after all, though she would have been happier if that number could grow by a few digits. "Making a high turnover is not unthinkable. We can invest in a product, improve its packaging, cut baseline costs by streamlining its production stream, and profit from targeted redistribution."

Richard laughed out loud. "If you have time for that, you may as well foray into the Wildlands, train or learn new spells."

"Well, I’m sorry for wanting a steady fount of resources." What was wrong with a little golden-fingered commerce? Wouldn't it be nice if she had a full complement of magical items? Or unlimited crystals with which to purchase property and skills? Were her old skills that untranslatable? Hell, she could organise an Alchemist's alliance and reduce costs through volume and scale. Then, she could repackage and brand Ye Old Healing Injector into a selfsame Restoration Elixir Plus, and distribute it for sale after getting accredited branding from the Tower.

In time, they could get a spokesperson, a famous Magister or Meister, and have them promote the product in return for favours or resources. There were a dozen ways Gwen could bullpen the market in a world as blind to commerce as the Mage-world.

"Richard's right," Klavdiya frowned unhappily at her money-making scheme. "Gwen, if you wish to progress down the Path of Spellcraft, you require resources and instruction. Resource, however much of it you possess, is a limited affair. Think of all the Clans and their treasure vaults filled with crystals and items. Barring Mythic level artefacts, do you think having access to a rare diet and austere facilities made a significant difference when you and Richard stripped them of their crystals and CCs in the dungeon?"

"I guess not," Gwen said.

"Crystals, items, wealth—these things are material and therefore they become immaterial," her babulya said with sagacity. "In the end, your greatest investment is yourself. For a Mage, there is only one finite resource."

Gwen hazarded a guess. "Life?"

"Time," Klavdiya spoke with intensity. "Your youth can't be wasted making HDMs."

"I see." Gwen surveyed the small hill of potential courses, each containing invaluable knowledge. How grand would it be if she could acquire the lion's share of arcane lore contained therein? How limitless and daunting would her potential be as a result? But there was no mitigating counter to the tyranny of time, whose leaden hands turned without mercy. "I guess, for knowledge, there isn't enough time in the world."

"That's correct," her babulya continued. "First, you have only three years to carry out whatever plan Lord Shultz and yourself have agreed to. Assuming you and Richard achieve what you set out to do, you will have an even more limited window of time to mark your place in the world. By then, you will have progressed well past the point of return on the Path of Asura, eternally demanding more power and influence."

"And with every challenge bested, you'll need longer spears to beat up ever bigger tigers," Richard said, quoting an NoM proverb. "Sound's rather depressing, doesn't it? We've ridden so far already, Gwen. No point pausing for breath now."

Gwen noted with a shiver that her family inferred there was a path of no return—a Path of Asura without cessation. What would the end even entail? She would wager the end didn’t involve a bay view bedroom with floor-to-ceiling windows.

"So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past," Gwen recited sentimentally. "Sailing toward a blood-dimmed horizon where the sun never sets, we are all stuck on this rickety raft."

While the others looked on, she forced herself to smile, dispelling the sudden feeling of depression she felt for the unending toil ahead. Success one day meant only a taller hurdle the next day.

"It's not all doom and gloom." Richard reached out and touched her hand. "Didn't you meet Elvia and Yue along the way? You met me, right? You found Babulya too. Ain't she the sweetest lady you have ever met?"

"Why, thank you, Richard." Babulya gave her cousin a heartfelt smile.

"I merely speak the truth, Babulya," Richard replied seriously. "Gwen has not had a cordial relationship with family, and that's putting it mildly. My father, her mother, even Uncle Hai. Gwen has been alone for so long I have no idea how she does it."

The Gwen that Richard knew hadn't "done it". Gwen felt a pang of guilt in her chest as Richard sought to butter her ego.

"Richard's right, Babulya." Gwen left her seat, reached out with both arms and embraced her grandmother from behind, pressing her face against Klavdiya's flaxen hair. "Thank you."

Klavdiya held Gwen's slender arms around her, then kissed Gwen's fingers as they brushed her lips. "I am happy that you're here." Klavdiya's response warmed her heavy heart.

The two women held one another, sharing something Gwen had rarely felt in her old life—filial intimacy.

"So, Fudan?" Klavdiya inquired gingerly, her eyes moving toward Richard's, whose eyes twinkled with complete and utter innocence.

"Fudan," Gwen decided, her voice full of conviction.

"Fudan indeed," her cousin repeated after her, grinning like a shot fox.

In the west, the saying went that where there was an individual with enough will, there was a path. In the east, the equivalent was where there were people, there was Guanxi, and therefore a "way".

Within hours, two applications appeared on the desk of the dean of Fudan, together with a commendation from the Pudong Tower for the two students and a reference from the Director of the PLA Second Army Hospital. A private letter was also attached, which Luo Jiang opened carefully, revealing the impeccable handwriting of a woman for whom he felt great admiration. Years ago, Luo's mother had fallen ill and required a rare, seventh-tier Dragon-Newt Logan to prolong her life. Luo had drawn upon every resource to find the unique ingredient to no avail until an old alumna had heard of his plight and acquired a piece of the fruit from her laboratory. That was Klavdiya Song, and though Luo's mother still passed, her passing was peaceful and happy, not filled with the agony of dementia and disease.

Usually, Luo ignored "backdoor" applications that watered-down Fudan's elite cohort. As the dean, Luo had an ethical duty to defend the university’s academic authority. If Luo had been at the end of his tenure, he might have considered such a thing to gain favour, but he was only a few years into his position and felt no desire for his legacy to end as an ousted, corrupt official.

However, as he owed Klavdiya a favour, he carefully picked up one of the applications against his better instincts. On the cover, the attached photo was a Eurasian youth who looked a little older than the usual applicants, maybe a returnee from military service.

"Hmm…"

Luo's eyes scanned the lines. He raised a brow in delight. A Praetorian at Prince's? He sat up in his chair.

Tier V Conjurer, tier I Abjurer. Nineteen?

Luo blinked. His eyes moved past the biometrics and turned to the talent section.

Tier eight WATER.

"Wocao!" he exclaimed with a spray of spittle. "Mao's stars!"

"Sir? Are you alright?" A female face ducked into the doorway. Luo professed to have an open-door policy, though no students dared to see the dean without a prior appointment. "Did you ruin your meditation again?"

"It's nothing, Ellen. How are the reports coming along?"

"I’m working on them," returned the catty voice from reception, its owner visible through the reflection on the polished floor.

"All right." Luo turned back to the application. "Keep hammering."

Tier eight? That's impossible. Luo felt that there must have been a typo somewhere.

He kept reading and found solace in the appendix that Richard Huang was contracted to a high-tier spirit. Red stars, Luo thought. The luck of this kid. The dean himself was almost fifty, a Magister, at the top of his game, and even so, he only had a sapient mid-tier Air Sprite. He continued reading the documentation, and when he'd finished, he had to tap the table contemplatively to digest the tingling sensation in his chest.

This application wasn't a favour for him to give. It was a favour granted to Luo! Even with the field of students Fudan currently possessed, someone with such stacked talent was impossible to ignore. He would still have to meet the young man, naturally, then put him through the wringer and see his abilities tested, but already he felt that there was little chance he could be disappointed.

Holding the application, he now felt less antagonistic about this "favour" he had to grant, and so he glanced over at the second application.

A girl of almost seventeen, uncommonly pretty and of questionable ethnicity.

Luo pursed his lips. The girl might be pleasing to the eye, but there was no making up for talent. His secretary, Ellen, was such an exhibit. The name on the application read "Gwen Song"; not a first name that he recognised anywhere, but the last name was intriguing. Was she another member of Klavdiya's house?

Luo pondered the last time he'd approved an application for Mrs Song, wife to the MSS Secretary of Confidential Communications, director of the second PLA Hospital. That had been the Mineral Enchanter Petra Kuznetsova, a rare talent from whom Fudan greatly benefited. When he'd last spoke with Magister Wen, she’ had informed him that she and her apprentice were already making substantial progress on the use of spell cubes.

"Alright, let's see what you got." Luo opened the application and scanned the girl's biometrics.

"Black…Wattle Bay?"

What and where the hell is Blackwattle? She's from Sydney, Australia? Is she a refugee? His brows knitted in consternation. There was nothing impressive in her academic transcript at all. It was negligible, non-existent.

Luo thumbed the application, and that was when he realised that the form he was holding was several times thicker than he’d anticipated.

With an ominous feeling in his chest, he turned the cover page.

A blistering array of improbable numbers and statistics assailed his eyes.

"W-WOCAO!" His hands shook and his knees knocked. He almost ripped one of the pages from the application form.

"Sir? Are you okay?" Ellen's elfin face ducked into the corridor again. "Did you get tea onto your pants or spill the ink bottle again? Should I get the cleaner to Pristigitate your pants?"

"I AM FINE!" Luo walked to the door and slammed it shut.

He returned to his table and held the application like a man who'd inadvertently found a Dungeon Core in the middle of a salt marsh.

Lightning at tier four?

Elemental Void at tier four?

VOID MAGIC! Luo wanted to leap from the table and perform a little jig. Seeing that Ellen wasn't watching, he did precisely that.

A Neophyte gifted with Void talent in the wild! Luo could barely contain himself. As the dean of a C9 university, he had to fight for talent with the other universities. Despite existing as one of the top academic existences in China, Fudan regularly lost some of the best and the brightest to Jingyen, Beijing University, and even Jian Tong in Shanghai. Those were the big three, the CCP-sponsored academies with deep roots in the PLA, the dynastic houses, and the venerable Clans.

When a uniquely talented individual appeared in the wild, the university scouts followed them for years, offering incentives, help, even tuition just so the student would choose to join their institution.

But who's laughing now? Luo rejoiced. Fudan would be the first to produce a Void Magus! Just thinking about the prospect of such a thing sent his spine tingling. When was the last time there had been a Void Mage of note? Elizabeth Sobel? She had been a Commonwealth Battle-Magus, one who had met a sticky end—consumed by her talent, or so they said. But unlike the 1970s, the theory-craft of the elements, the sigils and the planes, had advanced leaps and bounds. They knew at least what the Void was now, how to counter its effects, anticipate, and how it affected the caster.

This Gwen Song would be in good hands. He could place her with Magister Wen or perhaps Magister Gongsun. Hell, why not both? They would jump at the chance to see Void in action.

Then there was Lightning as well! What a bargain!

When he finally caught himself, Luo realised that he'd become so enamoured with the idea of the university training a Void Mage that he'd neglected a crucial fact: this Gwen Song possessed TWIN elements, and oppositional ones at that.

Where had Klavdiya dug up her granddaughter? Luo was awed all over again. What the hell had they fed her in Australia?

Included with the Spellcraft statistics was another supplement that explained the rationale behind Gwen's twin elements, along with a request for secrecy. Luo finished reading the beautifully scripted handwriting and had to agree. If someone knew that one could potentially create Mages with two elements by impregnating the host with twins and then inducing one twin to consume the other, the outcome would be monstrous.

Luo shuddered. With a simple chant, the attached note turned to cinders. He was more than happy to leave the shouldering of this secret to Klavdiya. It was best for all that Gwen Song remained a freakish product of the strange arithmetic of chance.

He continued to read.

Conjuration appeared to be the mainstay of the girl's ability, but the girl had terribly few spells to note; barely a dozen.

Beneath the data on Gwen's Conjuration was a description and image of her Familiars. TWO Familiars, Luo noted. The first was an ordinary beast, a run-of-the-mill Lightning marten. The other was an indescribable thing that consumed the living to nourish its host, a shapeshifter.

Luo lowered the application and pinched the bridge of his nose. He had quickly developed resistance to the string of surprises.

He read on.

"WO-WOCAO!" He slammed the table and swore out loud.

"Sir? Are you alright?" Ellen's voice peeped from behind the oaken door.

Evocation at tier three? Transmutation at tier one? Abjuration? Divination?

What manner of destiny manifest had Klavdiya pushed onto him? Could he even bear the burden of carrying Gwen's monstrous existence to term? What if the junior Song became less of a power they created and more like a force they unleashed?

Though worried, Luo reminded himself that he was an educator. He was the Dean of Fudan! If there was one motto that was universal to all the arcane universities of the world, it was that they dreamt of bringing forth a caster who could change the status quo, break the stalemate, expand the domain of man beyond their meagre enclaves.

"Ellen, come here," he called.

There was no reply.

"ELLEN! COME HERE!" he shouted at the door.

The oaken door opened and Ellen stalked through the threshold on stiletto heels, as graceful as if she was walking on air. "Yes, Jiang?" She tilted her China doll face, her expression uncanny and blithe. "You called?"

"Send these two applications down to the registrar and tell Han to put them in with the mid-semester scholarships."

"Sir?"

Luo incanted a short glyph over the manila envelope, sealing it so that only the intended recipient could read the letter.

"Take this to him personally and tell him to shortlist these applicants. Go. Do it now. Don't let anyone see you."

"Yes, Master." Ellen took the envelope and held it close to her chest. In the next second, she became as indistinct as air, transforming into a wisp of wind.

Luo walked back to his desk, his heart still pounding as he felt the weight of the application, amazed that a dozen sheets of paper could weigh as much as the world.

Chapter two

Off to See the Wizard

Gwen remained in her room and engaged in mana mediation until an NoM servant knocked on her door. "Ms Gwen, there's a man outside who says he's here to see you and Mr Richard."

"I'll be out in a minute."

Gwen had been expecting the house call since Babulya had stated that Magister Luo, the Dean of Fudan, had requested an interview at their earliest convenience.

Having received a hint from her grandmother that Magister Luo had an eye for the aesthetic, Gwen had planned her outfit meticulously. She piled her hair until it coiled into a messy bun, showing off her slender neck and dignified shoulders, leaving enough of a fringe to frame her face. She settled upon an antique-white, elbow-length blouse from Singapore, with a tailored allowance for her bust and a tightly tapered waistline, showing off her sharp collarbones. A cobalt ribbon tie accentuated the collar, matching the high-waisted pencil skirt in dark charcoal, finished off with her signature Mary-Janes.

When Gwen finally exited her room, she found Richard and another fellow in pleasant conversation, applauding herself as she watched their eyes light up with admiration.

"Nice." Richard stoked her narcism without shame.

"I am inclined to agree." The stranger approached with an open hand. "Magus Jin Ru, at your service. I am here to deliver you to the dean."

A Magus? Gwen felt shocked as they shook hands, then retreated a step and bowed. A Magus just to deliver two Neophytes? Babulya was better connected than she’d thought.

Jin beamed at her appreciatively. "I bet the old man can't wait to see you. Now, before we leave, I need to verify one thing."

"Sir?" Gwen tilted her head enquiringly, causing a single lock of style hair to hug her cheek.

"Lightning and Void. If you could give me a small demonstration." The Magus seemed a little embarrassed by his request. "For verification, of course. It's a little hard to believe that someone could access two oppositional elements."

"Of course, sir." Gwen turned to the middle of the training hall, materialising both Ariel and Caliban at a safe distance. Ariel appeared the same as always. Conversely, Gwen felt that Caliban had become more robust and vigorous since its consumption of the Elder Gila.

"SHAA!" She received an empathic demand from Caliban to transform into its new form, though she suppressed the creature's whining.

Jin watched the two critters chase one another around the hall, swallowing several times in rapid succession. "Very impressive, Ms Song. I do believe we may proceed."

"Thank you, Magus Ru." Gwen dismissed her Familiars, then followed the Magus out of the Song compound.

A car awaited them outside—a dark SUV embossed with the Fudan logo, a pictogram of the words ‘Fu-Dan’ composed in the character style of the late Qing.

As the vehicle left the compound, Jin gave the duo a history lesson on the university. "Fudan stems from the final era of the late Qing Dynasty. The characters were chosen by its founder, Meister Xianbo Ma, from the Confucian sect of Shangshu Dazhuan. Its intended meaning, 'Itinerant as the twilight, the sun glows, and moon luminesces', represents our expectations for the Mages who graduate from the college. Our motto is to learn extensively and adhere to aspirations, to inquire earnestly and reflect with self-application."

The man continued to speak as he drove. "Our university is a survivor. We have outlived the Qing, the first Great War, the Second Beast Tide, the Communist Revolution, hail the chairman, and finally, the global conversion to western Spellcraft. Today, we remain one of the only independent universities in China, as well as possessing our very own Faculty Tower for apprenticing students."

"Fudan owns a Tower?" The last point came as a surprise. Gwen hadn't realised that other Towers apart from the PLA and the Pudong Tower existed in Shanghai.

"Well, technically no." Jin battered a hand as he turned into the Second Orbital Highway. "It's an experimental Tower, made to simulate conditions within a real Tower. Quest boards, training rooms, meditation suites, Cognisance Chambers. There are no combat engines, an army of Golems, or shield generators. It was designed so that students could compete for resources. For obvious reasons, under the PLA, the mobile-fortress function of the Towers has been defunct and neglected since the 1970s. However, you are welcome to participate and even take a room in the Tower should your grades and academic ranking allow. Your grandmother, our alumina, once possessed one such room near the top floor."

"I didn't know Fudan had this facility either," Richard said. "When did you begin this program?"

"The PLA halted the program in the 1970s. But we managed to get permission to reinitiate in 1990," Jin answered proudly. "We have two Towers, in fact—T1 and T2—with the joining bottom segment named Guanghua, the Hall of Brilliance. Students wishing to stay in the Tower may choose a mock faction, and there are competitions for items and interesting resources. We've since also added the chance to trade CCs for resources as well."

"Nice. That would save us a trip to the PLA or the Pudong Tower," Richard pointed out.

"And it saves you from unnecessary politics before you graduate while giving you a taste for it," Jin replied. "You have no idea how many times we’ve lost good students to the contest of the Towers hungry for talent."

"Isn't early commitment seen as a good thing?" Gwen inquired.

"If all the talented students are off fighting the Undead, expanding our borders, hunting monsters or digging up dungeons, who's going to advance Spellcraft, create new spells, and investigate unseen phenomena?" Jin sighed. "Not to mention that party politics is far more dangerous than anything you encounter in the wild. When you die to magical beasts, there's at least a corpse left behind."

Gwen chuckled nervously. It was clear what Magus Ru thought about life outside of the confines of academia.

"You young Mages are still growing into your wings. Sometimes, it is best to pluck the bright feather and fly low until you understand what awaits in the sky above." Jin then drove in silence for a quarter of an hour, before turning off a ramp into the university town of Fudan.

The first thing they saw were two gargantuan Towers stabbing like twin spears into the sky. Constructed of a mixture of brutalist architecture and art-deco from the early 1920s, the glass and concrete facade of the Hall of Brilliance cut an imposing presence over the low-lying campus, with parallel shadows that reminded Gwen of a giant sundial.

As the car turned into the university, they were accosted by a bronze statue of the people's Magi, the legendary figure known as Mao Zedong. From coppery eyes that did not see, the great leader looked down upon all who entered Fudan's grounds, his face frozen in benevolence. The statue stood from an imposing height with one hand behind his back, the other pointed slightly forward to urge the observer to look ahead. As part of his facade, the figure wore a modified mandarine tunic in the military style, etched to resemble cotton, showing that Mao was a humble man despite his greatness.

Gwen did not care for the Magi. Instead, her eyes were drawn to the broad, four-lane avenue known as the Dashua Road or University Road, a place filled with eateries. Alfresco dining spilled out from restaurants that littered the four-kilometre boulevard framed by ancient mulberry trees. As a testament to Shanghai’s cosmopolitan history, there was Indian, Korean, Vietnamese and Japanese cuisine, making Gwen salivated against the car’s panes.

She had always considered herself a gastronomer in her old life, even if her staple was SPAM. Thank to her early poverty, her diet had depended upon the convenience of circumstance. Now that they were attending Fudan, she could have her pick of food from anywhere in the world! What's more, with Caliban's help, she couldn't gain weight—uniquely a talent of the surviving Void Mage! Whatever her lessons were was going to be, there was a glorious three years of gastronomic adventure ahead.

To the east and west of Fudan's University Road, two campuses sat adjacent. The old campus was the target of their visit, known as the Handan Campus, while the new campus converted from old hutongs had acquired the new moniker of the Jianghan campus.

The office of the dean was surprisingly not located in the Fudan Towers, but in an old Victorian-era building leftover from Shanghai's colonial stint. It was called Zibinyuan and was located in the lower quadrant of Handan. Most of the buildings in the university reflected Fudan's cosmopolitan nature. To her shock, when they passed the university's central avenue, Gwen even saw 'Japan House', 'American House', and others in the Northern European style, with slanted roofs and pitched awnings.

She was still marvelling at the architecture when Richard opened her door. When she exited, one white thigh over the other, Magus Ru looked away and found renewed vigour in introducing to them the history of the historic manor house that served as the university's administrative headquarters.

Inside, the trio walked past the blue shaded lawn and found themselves in a manor's vaulted hall. A guard saluted the Magus as she entered, his eyes lingering a little too long on Gwen before turning forward like an automaton. They then made their way through a hall carpeted in navy and walled with mahogany, covered from wall to wall with oil paintings of the revolution.

At the end of the corridor was a set of double doors that opened into a waiting area, with an open door looking into the office of the dean. An outlandish-looking woman sat at an over-large reception desk, languishingly moving paperwork from tray to tray with agonising slowness and an expression of severe consternation.

As they entered, she looked up.

Holy cows! Gwen’s breath caught in her chest. The woman wasn't human. Her eyes were two milky orbs of air with specs of ultramarine. Upon careful inspection, Gwen noticed how uncanny the woman seemed, especially with her office lady’s uniform and spectral heels.

"Aeeee—" A chirpy cry emerged from an unlikely source—Richard. With an outburst that surprised them all, Lea separated from Richard's body and materialised herself.

"Lea?" Her cousin fumbled to contain his spirit.

"Kin! Kin!" Lea begged with the eagerness of a child, a reaction that made Gwen think. Lea was sapient and sentient, but that didn't mean she was intelligent in the conventional sense. Thus far, Lea had been incapable of abstract philosophy and other complex cognitive functions. It was difficult to thoroughly imbue human qualities onto a spirit, which was why Sufina was both unique and beyond extraordinary. Even one as "talented" as Richard had to request rather than command Lea.

Now that Gwen thought about it, both Richard and Henry indulged in the whims of their Familiars whenever it was convenient or necessary, blurring the lines between Master and servant.

The woman at the table rose from the air to meet Lea and the two danced a little jig. Despite her human appearance, the Sprite seemed less in control of its womanly form than Lea, losing some of its morphic features to reveal its true self.

"An Air Elemental?" Richard turned to Ru. "A lesser Djinn?"

"Indeed, this is Ellen, the Magister's Familiar."

"The Magister's an Air Conjurer?" Gwen's mouth formed a happy "o"; it was always nice to know another powerful Conjurer.

"Indeed, as well as a Transmuter and Illusionist," Ru affirmed with a nod. "Please, leave the spirits to themselves. It is rare for elementals to meet kin so similar to themselves."

As expected, Richard indulged Lea, using his Conjuration to sever her from his body.

Glancing at the table, Gwen realised Ellen was in the midst of actual secretarial work, a fact that made her feel the true marvel of intelligent spirits. Was the work an attempt by the dean to further humanise the spirit? She tried to imagine Caliban or Ariel doing the same position and had to suppress a mirthful smile. How could she convince her lecturer that Caliban had eaten her homework? What if Ariel zapped her accounts to oblivion?

"Jin! Gwen, Richard! Come in, come in!" Magister Jiang's booming voice rang out like a trumpet.

The duo entered, while Magus Ru retreated to the door. "My work here is done. I hope to see you around campus soon."

"Thank you, sir." They both bowed and Gwen took a deep breath, then they entered the dean's open door.

Magister Luo had made sure his guests' files were opened in front of him. He had read through the cousins' stats almost a dozen times since the previous night.

Richard appeared as expected—a young man with a thin face, lean of limb and body, a square jaw and a Roman nose that hinted at his mixed heritage.

When the girl appeared behind the young man, Luo felt a jolt of electricity fill the air. She was stunning! A heart-achingly pretty face, striking green-ochre eyes, and a lean, lithe figure, standing as the picture of perfection, a poster child.

Luo kept his face impassive. "Greetings, I am Magister Luo Jiang, the dean of this university."

Gwen and Richard both bowed deeply.

"I am Gwen Song; it's a pleasure to meet you, sir."

"I am Richard Huang, sir; it's an honour."

"I'd ask that you sit, as is proper for western customs."

Luo kept his eyes on the duo. "Conjure Object!" A pair of antique sitting chairs appeared behind them. "Please sit."

"Conjure Object" was an impressive tier four spell, performed quietly and efficiently with great subtlety. There was no ripple in the Astral Plane, no burst of Conjuration mana; it was as though the chairs had always been there. To achieve such a feat required an exercise in Conjuration as natural as taking a breath of fresh air, as passive as blinking.

Gwen and Richard sat with impressed expressions.

Luo congratulated himself.

"I have studied both of your applications, including the commendations from Pudong Tower on behalf of the Morning Star himself. I am impressed, as anyone would be, by your achievements at so young an age."

"Thank you, sir." The girl inclined her head.

Luo rapped his fingers against the table. The crisp sound was an onomatopoeic representation of his thoughts. "However, your applications have come at a difficult time for us. Are you aware that your grandmother, my respected colleague, the esteemed Klavdiya Song, director of the second PLA Hospital, has submitted you for a scholarship position?"

"Sir?" The girl had not heard. She had assumed she was applying for a full-fee position.

"Are we eligible?" Richard asked.

Luo pursed his lips. It looked like the duo were holding their breath.

"Yes," he said finally. "I am allowing it."

His audience appeared relieved.

"However, there is a multi-stage process for selection of students for the Lim-Chanrol Student Scholarship prize, or the LCSS, as it’s endearingly known amongst the cohort. There will be a written exam, a practical, then an interview before a panel. Usually, students have weeks, even months, to prepare. I regret to inform you that you have…"

Luo paused, studying their faces carefully, "several hours. What say you? If not, you are always welcome to apply for the latter year cohort for 2004's semester one. I hope you understand that Director Song has sprung this upon me rather unconventionally."

The duo met one another's eyes and nodded.

"If we fail, sir, are we still able to apply for the non-scholarship course? Or for the scholarship course again?" the girl asked.

"Of course," Luo answered. "I should also note that the students selected for the Inter-University Competition are usually LCSS alumni. That, and you need to understand that having failed once, it will reflect poorly, though not critically, upon your next application."

"I see." The girl appeared to consider the hand dealt to her and her cousin. Luo wondered what they were thinking—play it safe and slow, or loose and fast? Those were the options before them. How confident was the girl? The young man should have no problems, considering his role at Prince's.

"Shall I explain the stages of each competition?"

"Please do." The girl squared her shoulders attractively.

"Very good." The Magister felt satisfied with the response. "The written exam is an essay on the current status of our precarious world. It can range anywhere between demi-humans and humanity, ecological issues with the Mermen, and political treaties between the Frontier cities. It has the least weight of the three exams and serves largely as a measure of your eloquence and wisdom in assessing current affairs."

In front of Luo, Gwen bit her lip hesitantly, reminding the Dean she was a country bumpkin from the woods.

"The next exam is the Combat examination. You may select a tier of Summoned Creature, then attempt to defeat the randomised creature that emerges from the Conjuration circle. Rest assured that your life will be in no danger, though I wouldn't guarantee the same for risk of significant injury, so do be careful."

"What tier can we choose from?" Richard asked.

"The exam begins at five, which is already beyond the abilities of your average university student, and may progress up to twelve."

"Twelve?" Gwen turned to Richard questioningly. "What could be tier twelve?"

"The imperial tier system is largely a generalisation," Luo explained. "As you are both from the Frontier, you have probably had little to no contact with higher-order demi-humans. A member of the Elven race, for example, is usually a fourth-tier creature, possessing extraordinary agility and intelligence, not to mention a lifespan of millennia. When you add that age and wisdom to arcane craft, however, as well as elemental Affinity, an Elven Druid or Sorceress could easily surpass tier ten when it comes to raw destructive potential. Conversely, a Dire Bear with Fortified Earth, and so on, which would be six or seven, pending bloodline and traits."

"Incredible." The girl’s eyes grew strangely vacant at the mention of Elves.

"The same applies to us. Are we not dangerous in ourselves, hmm? Even though the common man is merely tier one." Luo chuckled amiably, then irritably, as he recalled that he had trained his Familiar to deliver refreshments. "Ellen! Where is that tea?"

Ellen appeared with a tea set bore on solidified air.

"Use your arms and legs, Ellen," Luo commanded his Familiar. "Come on, now."

The Air Sprite took the tray with her ethereal fingers and manipulated the handle, clumsily took a cup and began to fill it with tea. His audience watched in awe as the spectacle unfolded. Ellen, as human-like as she appeared, even dressed appropriately in the garb of a doe-eyed secretary, struggled with the pot. At the same time, her slender legs wobbled, struggling to maintain balance without taking flight.

Ellen passed a cup over to Richard, but his Familiar hesitated when she got to Gwen. Luo felt a bout of loathing emanating from his Familiar.

"I'll take that, thank you." The girl reached out for the cup and saucer.

"EEE—" Ellen slipped and flung the tea at Gwen's face.

"Lea!" Thankfully, Richard recalled Lea quickly and caught the liquid before Gwen became drenched in osmanthus water.

"Ellen!" Magister Luo sent a jolt of mana into his Familiar as he addressed the girl. "I am very sorry. It's hard work, trying to humanise your Familiar. You should try it yourself, Gwen."

"It's okay," the girl smiled. "I don't—"

"That was your fault!" Ellen seemed more peeved at Luo than Gwen herself. With a flash of Conjuration, she ceased to exist within the material and bid herself to return to her pocket dimension. The tea set was left hanging in the air for a comical moment before Lea caught it expertly in a watery bubble.

"She's a work in progress," Magister Luo confessed with both hands raised. "I acquired her as a mid-tier spirit and I am trying to improve her fine motor skills and general intelligence, but alas, Air Sprites are willful, proud and a little too flippant."

Richard asked Lea to bring the tea set to rest against a sideboard.

"Now, dear Lea! What you have there, Mister Huang, is the envy of all Conjurers." Luo watched Lea manipulate the tray expertly. "You'll have to tell me about how you came to acquire such a spirit one day, Richard."

"I look forward to it." Richard grinned at the Magister. "She's not for sale, by the way."

"I would allow nothing of the sort, my boy. I am merely admiring. She's a beauty, she is." Luo snuffed his slight feelings of jealousy.

"She is, is she not?" Richard politely asked Lea to service the trio. Together, they watched her pour the tea clumsily, collecting wayward drops by controlling the liquid.

"Where was I?" Magister Luo returned his eyes to the two young Mages before him.

"The Combat exam, the tiers," Gwen answered him.

Luo smiled. "Ah yes, the creatures randomly summoned will be within one to two tiers of your indicated challenge rating. You can give up anytime, and we'll banish it."

"Understood, sir," Gwen replied.

"What if a creature has directly oppositional affinities?" Richard inquired further. "Such as if I were to face an Ice Elemental or Gwen an Earth Elemental? Wouldn't that be unfair?"

"You have three attempts," Luo informed them. "If you are unlucky at all three attempts, then I can only assume that you're not meant to be here. Fortune, my dear boy, is also a keen component of a Mage's growth. Dungeon diving, adventuring, the discovery of new fauna and flora, are all tied to one's luck. Whatever the case, do your best to demonstrate your skills. Brute force, skilful manipulation, wisdom in Spellcraft or even courage under adversity, we take them all into the account."

Luo waited for the duo to digest the news before continuing. "The final component is the interview, conducted by the Magisters from the three main factions within the university. These are not real factions, like the ones in the Tower, of course, they are staff and student-organised social groups. There will be the Faculty Head of Advanced Spellcraft, the Department Head of a school I will refrain from mentioning, and the Provost of the General Department."

"Any clues as to what they may ask, sir?" Richard inquired bluntly.

"A range of questions, to be sure," Magister Luo replied evasively, not wanting to give away the game. "Some personal, some political, others merely of interest to the interviewers themselves. My recommendation is to be yourselves."

"I see." The boy motioned for Lea to return. Lea ignored him and flittered about the room, poking at old photo frames and swirling about crystal decanters that scintillated against the sunbeams shining through the French windows.

Amused, the two spirit-possessing Conjurers regarded one another with looks of mutual understanding. The boon and bane of having sapient spirits were that they had a mind of their own.

"I’m good to go." The girl spoke with confidence.

"Excellent." Luo put his hands together. "I will inform the others that you will be joining them."

"How many others, sir?" Richard asked. "What's the competition?"

"Including you, twenty," Luo replied. "A few genuinely talented students, the others, prodigies from the Clans and the houses, here for prestige more than anything the scholarship may provide. There are only two spots for a full scholarship, followed by four for half scholarship."

"So, six out of twenty?" The girl nibbled her lips contemplatively. "Do we have to duel any of the other contestants?"

"There is precedence, but no, you will not. The result is objectively determined based on your performances, then extensively debated."

"I see."

"Very well then, I shall expect the good news. The results will be posted by the week's end. The semester itself begins in mid-June. Assuming you succeed, there is still a month to sort out campus accommodations."

"I admire your confidence, sir." Richard smirked at Luo. "And your foresight."

"I am an open book." Magister Luo glanced at his two proteges, feeling well-satisfied. "Ellen will take you to the testing grounds on the other side of the campus. Do take care."

"Thank you, sir."

"Thank you, sir."

Luo gave the two permission to go, then, looking around the office, went about fixing himself a happy drink.

Gwen and Richard proceeded away from the colonial house and down the central Handan promenade, where the entrance to the Hall of Brilliance lay, its three-metre glass doors swinging to and fro as Mages came and went.

Gwen observed the cosmopolitan students, mostly Chinese, some European, some Eurasian, a few resembling the Han Chinese but distinctly different, which she could only assume to be Korean or Japanese, as well as a few more exotic faces which she guessed to be South American or Mediterranean.

There was a massive lawn area right before the Fudan Towers, with broad, poplar-strewn avenues running down either side. After piercing the greenery, the trio reached the second campus, Jianghan, where the newer Spellcraft facilities resided.

"In here." Ellen's inhuman eyes were scintillatingly beautiful, reflecting the infinite cloudscape of the Elemental Plane of Air. She pointed to a warehouse converted into an office building, with poetry written in red on either side of the door as a couplet.

The first read:

There are no shortcuts on the winding path of Spellcraft

The second read:

There is no shore when sailing upon the seas of arcane knowledge

To Gwen, both were elegant proverbs.

"Welcome!"

A pair of Mages, a man and a woman, emerged from the shaded double doors of the warehouse, introducing themselves as the proctors.

"Greetings." Gwen and Richard bowed.

The two proctors returned their greeting with slight inclines of their heads. One of them motioned for the two to enter.

"The written exam is in here, the General Examination Hall. Would you like to begin? The dean has asked to give you time to prepare if you need it."

Gwen couldn't think of anything productive she could do to prepare, so she nodded. Beside her, Richard brimmed with supernatural confidence.

The warehouse's interior betrayed the shabby-looking exterior, probably preserved to retain the historical look of the campus. Instead of galvanised sheeting, the interior was a vaulted wooden ceiling with soft golden pine, embedded with soft downlights and climate-controlled to perfection. The hall itself took advantage of the warehouse's arched ceilings, separated and held up by three wishbone dividers. If fully arranged, the hall looked capable of housing a thousand examinees.

Currently, there were only four students busily scribbling away at their tests.

Soundlessly, the proctors placed Gwen and Richard into separate, private examination rooms plated with ash-blonde wood, modestly reflective with a pleasant matt-lacquer.

Gwen smoothed out her dress and sat on the unyielding chair.

"You have a hundred and twenty minutes," the proctor said.

A stack of paper and a single test sheet were upon the table, which Gwen presumed to be the exam paper.

She flipped over the page and read the conditions of the exam.

Written Section

Total marks (50)

Allow 120 min for this section:

IN YOUR ANSWER, you are assessed on how well you:

—demonstrate an understanding of the way Spellcraft may be applied practically

—describe, explain and analyse the relationships between Spellcraft, context and real-world events

—Demonstrate appropriate use of language and form in the essay format

"Humanity must strive to bring significant and enduring change through the application of Spellcraft."

Address this statement with your observation and opinions.

Gwen felt for the pen and pulled a piece of exam paper toward her chest. She could only write in English and hoped that the language barrier wouldn't be a problem. After all, the question was perfect for someone like herself.

How should she go about it? Radical, insightful or perhaps groundbreaking?

Chapter three

Dog Whistles

As a successful member of the consultancy fellowship, Gwen knew she could convincingly compose the essay at hand and that her only dilemma was the topic.

Tier one city or otherwise, for all the magical bluster her current world possessed, humanity was woefully behind her old world in the realm of bureaucracy and politics.

Perhaps, she imagined, it was because the Mage-world lacked "democracy" in the sense of "all men born equal", lacking concrete concepts of individual rights, especially the prole base made up by the NoMs.

In Australia, despite its lauded freedom, she could see that theirs was a society of long-suffering apartheid by magical lottery. Thanks to the necessity of survival, the western Mageocracy resembled fifteenth-century Romagna. Within its network, city-states formed self-serving enclaves, establishing a perimeter of Frontier cities whose only purpose was to provide nutrition to its nerve centre. China was likewise such a state, possessing the cosmopolitan capital of Shanghai in the south and the old seat of imperial power, Beijing, up north. Under the CCP's reign, citizens were given party-selected representatives to represent their interests; a mockery of citizen rights.

Worse still, these NoM "officials" held little power over the Towers, who considered themselves above worldly legality. According to her grandmother, two groups of Mages presided over Shanghai's arcane ministries.

The People's Liberation Army Tower had boons granted by their allegiance to the party. Their Mages performed out of ideology and because they had been reared from obscurity by the socialist policies of the state. Comparatively, the Pudong Tower was composed of free-ranging Mages, international expatriates, and members of the Mageocracy's unnumerable Towers.

Together, the PLA Tower and the Pudong Tower formed a balance of interest. The PLA Tower bent its resources to develop its trope of China's interests. At the same time, Pudong remained tethered to the Tower system initially envisioned by its European creators after the Second Great War.

Considering the circumstances, Gwen decided to compose a piece on the nature of the "apartheid" between Mages and NoMs. In her mind, such a fundamentally inefficient society was hardly sustainable, even if public hysteria meant that the majority was happy to place all power in the hands of the minority.

For a modern economy to prosper, one couldn't abide by the adage that might makes right. To surmise what Gwen had seen of Shanghai thus far, it felt as though the powerful took what they wanted with impunity. If there was a treasure, one vied for it. If there was a beauty, one possessed it. If there was a dungeon, you conquered it.

Even after experiencing Sydney's fall, the world she lived in continued to surprise her with its raw savagery.

If so, should she write about Locke? Propose the Second Treaties in mixing one's labour with the land? Or perhaps she could draw upon the mighty Leviathan, offer some insight on the symbiotic nature between the head and the hands? Or maybe even Rousseau, whose treaties on the Savage Man seemed right at home with the wanton natures of Mages in this world.

Gwen put pen to paper, then began to write. On the vindication of NoMs among us.

She would write something with passion and eloquence, drawn from the nineteenth century when women had lacked rights, property and recognition; a reflection of the state of NoMs. She appropriated lines from Wollstonecraft, whose essay she had studied extensively in university, weaving funny anecdotes with bitter diatribe and witty banter.

"Let us not forget that even the highest Mages," Gwen wrote, "originated from NoMs." In her treatise, she stated that though the houses and Clans were lauded entities, they yet produce Squabs, meaning just as NoMs could win the genetic lottery, Mages could lose them. To abuse NoMs and treat them as fodder—forgotten and left to menial labour, abused, despoiled and pillaged at the pleasure of the Mage—was to debase humanity itself.

As with her Master, she explained that the abuse of greatness is when it was disjointed from remorse!

If indeed, she argued, Mages possessed such abundant resources, why not seek to eradicate the people trafficking in the extensive ghettos and invest in education for the NoMs, restructuring the bottom of society by offering meagre but meaningful employment?

There may yet be great innovators, originators, scholars, creators of the arts, celebrated human minds that lay untapped among the populace. Should the prejudice subside, the aftermath could be a renaissance of art, culture, invention and innovations stemming from the largest population of humanity—the NoMs.

Gwen wrote roughly but idealistically, understanding that she must write from the position of a naive student, one who desired a genuine change to the woes her world faced. Her essay, she imagined, should be the sort of thing that her instructors would find amusing but eloquent, ideal but lacking in substance, a demonstration of a student with great hopes and designs for the future, one with positivity and morality.

Does not an NoM bleed when you prick them?

Does not an NoM cry when they are hurt?

Her pen moved as though possessed of a life of its own. At the test's conclusion, she handed in two dozen pages in florid but neat handwriting.

"That's a lot of writing." The female proctor collected her essay with an expression of astonishment.

"I had a lot to say," Gwen stated matter-of-factly.

"Your companion also finished early. He waits for you outside."

Gwen ventured outside the examination hall, shielding her eyes against the glare of the midday sun.

Richard's smiling face awaited her arrival. "Ready for your next examination?"

"Sure. What did you write about?"

"Coming from Sydney, I'd think that would be self-evident," Richard stated thoughtfully. "I wrote a treatise about periodically cleansing the coastal regions to prevent a Creature Tide in the Coastal Wildlands."

"That sounds rather pragmatic." Gwen pursed her lips. Should she have written something likewise practical? The question had said "change the world", had it not?

"It was nothing original," Richard added. "Though I did some math and pointed out the benefits of using minimal force to project maximum gain in acquiring resources for the city, as well as using the operation as training for junior Mages to acquaint them with oceanic and coastal combat. I included thirty-six points of interest and pointed out fourteen potential setbacks."

"Oh." Gwen felt even less sure of her boastful essay.

"What did you do?" Her cousin asked.

"Er… stuff." Gwen played with a coil of hair self-consciously. "I wrote about NoMs."

Richard blinked, then snorted encouragingly. "I should have thought as much. I am sure it'll do well. You know the CCP feels very strongly about NoMs here, much more than in Australia."

"Let's hope so. Thanks, Richard." Gwen smiled at her cousin sweetly. "Now, shall we see to the second part of our exam?"

The field trials took place next door in another warehouse adjacent to the first.

"You will be entering a Combat Arena roughly the size of a football field," the Proctor explained. "Are you aware of the procedure? Would you like me to explain?"

"The dean has already explained," Richard informed him.

The man nodded, then stepped aside. Within, Gwen could hear the distinctive hum of the Walls of Force generators thrumming to keep up.

The testing platform took up the entire length of the enormous warehouse, was fitted with bleachers on three sides and shielded unilaterally with Walls of Force. Within, framed by a rolling knoll the size of a tennis court, a two-headed giant wielded a club clumsily, fighting a Mage who flitted about through the air like a Sprite.

"Glacial Shards!"

A flurry of a dozen blue-white bolts zinged through the air to strike the giant in both eyes, centred upon each brow. The thick hide of the giant shrugged off the force of the attacks, albeit the penetrative elemental damage momentarily blinded the Ettin, an infamous species of monstrous Fay commonly found in mountainous regions.

"Sleet Storm!" The Elementalist effortlessly drifted through the air.

Gwen and Richard took a seat on the bleachers to observe their competitor, an elfin girl with cropped hair and a manic pixie appearance. She corkscrewed through the Ettin's reach, teasing the beast as the two-headed giant battered its surroundings in a blind rage.

"Blizzard!" The air grew abruptly cold.

Below the Ettin, the ground became a slippery sheet of ice and debris. Together with a shard of forceful ice, it was sufficient to send the disorientated Ettin backwards, tripping and falling until it folded upon the weight of its brutal body.

An Evoker-Transmuter! Gwen marvelled, deeply impressed by the agility and skill of the combatant well on her way to becoming an Aerial Battle Mage.

With the Ettin floored, the elfin girl flew in for the kill. "Rime Blast!"

A shrieking sphere of frost left her fingers and struck the Ettin on its right head, where it rapidly expanded into a forty-foot diameter ring of rime.

The Ettin shuddered as its head froze, pawing its face feebly, struggling to breathe as its respiratory systems rebelled and its fluids froze.

"Enough!" A proctor activated a device and the Ettin disappeared in a shimmering show of Conjuration mana. Simultaneously, the conjured grassy highlands ceased to be, returning to the bare concrete of the un-transmogrified space of the warehouse.

The gathered audience clapped as the girl landed, her face glowing with exertion.

"Very good, Kitty. You may return."

The girl bowed to the proctor and returned to the bleachers, where she met half a dozen others in jovial congratulations.

The proctor then turned to the crowd.

"As it were, we have two more entries into the examination," he announced by raising his voice an octave. "Reset the field!"

"How come…" one of the students audibly protested. "But proctor, there are only eighteen candidates! You can't just add people at the last minute. The candidates are finalised weeks in advance."

"Unfair! Who are these people?" another voice complained.

"I bet they paid their way in," someone suggested rudely.

"What is Dean Jiang thinking? My house will hear about this!"

"Silence!" The proctor's face flushed a shade darker. "The dean has spoken. If you're unhappy with it, you’re welcome to withdraw from the LSCC Mid-Semester Scholarship Exam."

The students clammed up, though their eyes instantly found Gwen and Richard.

"Gwen Song," the proctor announced, his voice filled with displeasure. "Proceed onto the field."

"May I go first?" Richard stood.

"No." The Proctor shook his head, not even bothering to look toward Richard. "Gwen Song. Are you ready to proceed with your first attempt?"

Richard sat back down and placed a hand on Gwen's knee.

"I'll be fine," Gwen said.

"I know," Richard replied stoically.

"What tier would you like to attempt?" the proctor enquired of Gwen.

"What was the two-headed giant?" Gwen asked in return.

"Tier five."

"Very well, give me a tier six monster," Gwen spoke with confidence. After Sydney, after the dungeon, she shouldn't even be breaking a sweat.

The proctor raised a bushy brow. "We are not responsible for any injuries, though we will endeavour to preserve your life," he said carefully. "If you are grievously injured, you may not attempt again."

"I am aware. Proceed." Gwen walked past the proctor.

"Break a leg!" Richard shouted.

Gwen walked across the bleachers and made her way down to the area. A few catcalls and a whistle answered her from across the hall while the rest of the contestants sat brooding like disgruntled ogres.

As she descended into the arena, Gwen produced a scrunchy from her storage ring, pulling back her loose bun until it formed a cascading ponytail.

She looked up at her hecklers. There were three groups, a clump congregated near the centre, in the midst of which was the prior contestant, the Elemental Ice girl. Unlike the others, their mixed attire indicated a rag-tag band of like-minded folks who had become friends rather than a Clan of sorts.

Gwen stepped onto the concrete with clacking heels. She could feel the eyes of the gathered contestants like feelers over her skin.

"Initiating tier six Combat Trial!" The proctors called out to the Conjurers manning the summoning circle.

A hushed murmur fell over the hall.

The grounds shimmered and churned until the materialised space resembled a savanna, created from a combination of Conjuration, Transmutation and Illusionary glyphs. Her old high school, Blackwattle, had had a similar setup, though lacking in many ways.

"You may self-buff should you wish," the proctor informed Gwen. "Extra points if you do not."

Gwen shook her head. "I'll be fine. Please proceed."

The refusal to pre-buff sent the crowd into a murmur. It was a recipe for disaster not to protect oneself or preload powerful spells. A Mage should sue for every advantage, especially if challenging something at the apex of one's power.

"You may begin once the creature is summoned," the proctor said. "Adjudicator, you may proceed."

A burst of brilliant Conjuration mana filled one end of the arena, roughly fifty paces from where Gwen stood in a professional white blouse and pencil skirt, looking as though a young banker had lost herself in the wilderness of the steppes.

To her limited knowledge, "fodder" creatures conjured in this way were ripped from their homes and displaced through the Astral Plane into the Material Plane, and therefore always materialised with a bad temper. Thereby, outside an academic or gladiatorial setting, such spells were only used as a means to delay an opponent for reasons of its inefficiency.

As the silvery motes faded, the shape of a feline the size of a people-mover van came into view. The creature appeared disorientated for the first split second, but its golden eyes quickly adjusted to Gwen as it brought its powerful musculature to bear.

"A Chimaera Lioness!" someone cried out from the stands. "Tier seven!"

The newly appearing creature would take a moment to re-orientate to its new surroundings, which was perfect for Gwen's next move.

"Caliban!" She summoned her trump card even as the lioness noticed her and bared its fangs. With the motes of silver cleared, she saw that the creature was not entirely lion-like. While its head and upper body resembled a lioness, its lower torso ended with hooves, and its tail was a hissing serpent. Furthermore, as the creature began to bear down upon Gwen, she could see that its eyes possessed that strange and alien cornea that goats possessed.

Mid-charge, Caliban burst forth from a slit in the Prime Material.

Gwen felt the safety threshold provided by Almudj's vital force instantly overcome as Caliban emerged in its newest form. Her complexion grew pallid, for she had willed her creature to appear in its spider guise, but the burgeoning mass the Void vomited forth was massive and bipedal.

"C-Caliban!" Gwen clenched her teeth. "Defend me!"

Had Caliban grown too powerful for her to command? Her mind raced, her thoughts suddenly full of chaos and unbidden fears of losing control. The Lovecraftian horror had, after all, consumed thousands of critters and an Elder Gila in the last few days, while her Conjuration had remained unimproved since before her Master had been murdered by his erstwhile wife. Whatever tier Caliban was in its new form, it wasn't containable by her measly fourth-tier aptitude.

Behind her, she could hear the audience becoming unwitting witnesses to her grotesque miracle.

As a Gila, Caliban fell onto the Transmuted floor of the make-shift savannah like a drop of tenebrous ink, then unfolded itself into an eight-foot-tall frog-lizard-humanoid spawn of indefinite shape. Its body mass was stacked like a reversed pyramid, with the bulbous musculature of its head taking up almost half of its torso. A giant lamprey's mouth drooling with grey slime sat in the centre of its faceless mien as it flexed obsidian claws embedded into three-toed fingers. Below, its hind legs were comically short but thick and stout, kinetically coiled like two primed pistons.

The two monstrous existences met each other halfway in a titanic clash, the Lioness leaping into the air and launching itself into a powerful kick with its hooves, even as its forelimbs racked and slashed and its feline maw tore into the rubbery flesh of the summoned Familiar. The Chimaera's serpentine tail likewise bit into the slimy dermis of its opponent, delivering a necrotic venom that would liquify living tissue in a matter of seconds.

Caliban's rubbery flesh was torn at once, becoming ribbons of dark meat as the Lioness' claws cleaved at its interior.

Gwen felt another bout of vitality drain away, stealing the breath from her chest, but what else could she do at this point? She had made her bed and now she must lie in it. Had she known Caliban would emerge with such size and ferocity, she would have chosen Ariel or perhaps planned out her battle better.

Through their empathic link, she could feel the gibbering bestial joy Caliban exerted. An unexplainable desire came unbidden to her mind, embedded within Caliban's newly acquired body.

Before she could stop herself, her hungry body gave the command. "Consume!" She staggered back, her head growing dizzy.

Caliban swelled like a bullfrog, its rib cage violently expanding as it ballooned in size, surprising even the Chimaera Lioness, which lost its grip on Caliban's slimy exterior. With a gurgling hiss, her creature's lamprey's mouth unfolded, expanding until it became a maw the width of its body, a full metre across at the extremities.

"Wocao!" Voices in the crowd swore. "Mao's ghost!"

Even the furious monster howled in guttural terror as its goat's eyes stared into the bottomless depth held captive within Caliban's toothy hell.

"SHAA!"

With the sound of a wet, slurping crunch, Caliban enclosed its mouth around the struggling Chimaera, attaching bloodily onto its upper body by swallowing the Lion's entire frontal torso. As with a snake, Caliban's lips disregarded all properties of the physical flesh to expand massively around the lion-creature.

With a violent, slurping motion, Caliban inhaled, filling the area with the sound of bones cracking and vessels popping. There was another brief but violent struggle, then the Chimaera grew still.

"Enough!" One of the proctors commanded.

A burst of silvery mana came over the carcass, and the maimed or near-dead creature became unsummoned as the spell unravelled.

In front of Gwen, Caliban bewilderingly licked its lips and wondered where its delicious meal had gone.

"What the hell was that?"

"A GILA! That's a DEATH GILA!" The crowd grew wild with speculations.

"Death Gila? As a Familiar? And what was that Element?"

While the others raved, Gwen felt her world transform into a topsy-turvy spinning top. She desperately channelled some of her recovering Almudj-mana into her body, steadying herself so as not to become a fainting spectacle in the middle of an exam.

"Caliban! Return!" she called out, her voice peevish and upset at her rebellious Familiar.

"SHAA—!" her Familiar was not a happy frog and refused to return.

Gwen felt a slight, spine-tickling panic. Had she lost control? No. She could handle this. She had to.

Caliban sauntered over toward her on its stumpy hind legs.

Christ! Gwen gulped. Her Void fiend was huge.

Towering over her in its humanoid form, Gwen realised how massive the creature had become. It was like she was looking up at an obsidian menhir that blotted out the sun.

Caliban's faceless head, lacking eyes and nose but possessing a mouth spacious enough to fit in her entire torso, lowered itself.

Does it want to be petted? Gwen acknowledged from her empathic link. Her Caliban was sad that food had disappeared.

"What's she doing?" someone asked their peers.

"Showing off," someone else stated.

"Do you think it's a Death Gila?"

"Whatever it is, I ain't fighting it," a voice remarked, much to the agreement of the others.

Ignoring the peanut gallery, Gwen patted Caliban's scarred snout, where even now the wounds made by the Chimaera were healing rapidly, leaving behind white lines in its obsidian flesh.

"SHAA— Shaa— shaa—"

The humungous humanoid frog purred and croaked through its circular-saw lips, drooling grey slime as it nudged her like a cat, sending Gwen off-balance.

Gwen materialised then fed her Caliban an unopened can of spam.

The crowd in the bleachers grew silent.

She noticed the proctors studying her. Shit. Gwen felt her heart sink. As Henry would say, that was a terrible display. No skill. No finesse. No display of control or knowledge.

There was nothing but power.

Raw. Brutal. Unmitigated power.

She looked at Richard, who did not appear touched by her horrific display. When Gwen looked at the others, she saw expressions of horror, disgust and loathing mixed with general aversion.

The short-haired pixie girl, in particular, was white as a sheet as their gaze met.

Gwen returned her attention to the battle at hand. "Please, Caliban, do it for Mummy," she begged her Familiar. "Go home."

Instead, her frog-fiend sniffed the air and hung out a tenebrous tongue of pink flesh to lick her face.

"Okay, okay, buddy, come on. Go home!" Gwen caressed its snout a little more vigorously, rubbing it with her knuckles.

To her horror, Caliban turned toward the bleaches to regard the young Mages with a feeling of intense hunger.

Gwen felt within her body a renewed tug of war.

"No!" She slapped Caliban wetly on the flank. "GO HOME! NOW!"

Caliban pushed her aside roughly.

"Friend!" Gwen pointed at the Mages. "NOT FOOD! Go home!"

Then, there was a moment of hesitation between Master and Familiar, as if a higher power answered. With a "shaa" of protest, Caliban returned to its pocket dimension, returning to the amiable form of the serpent.

Gwen breathed out a sigh of relief and turned to the proctors.

An awkward round of applause began in the bleachers, likely urged by Richard, ending with only the clapping of her cousin.

"You may wait on the other side." The proctor motioned to the side where the other students were sitting.

Gwen nodded, willed a little more of Almudj's energy to fortify her health, then carefully and slowly, she stalked across the arena.

Dozens of other contestants regarded Gwen as she crossed the threshold.

"Hello." She waved to the largest group. "I’m Gwen Song."

The group turned to look at the pixie girl, who didn’t return the greeting. Awkwardly, Gwen retracted her arm and turned to the trio on the sidelines. Thankfully, they waved back, but their body language was neither invitational nor amiable, merely polite.

Gwen sighed. From the looks of it, even if she was to take a scholarship position, she wasn't going to make new friends. But her social life aside, her mind added wistfully, she needed some immediate and dire instruction on what happened when a Familiar grew above and beyond the tiers of Conjuration possessed by the Conjurer. How could she wrestle back the mental control she had once maintained over Caliban and prevent her darling beast from taking her life force to "protect" her whenever it felt necessary to do so?

All of that would have to wait until the semester began and she could speak intimately with a course coordinator.

Wiping the others from her mind, she patted down her dress and sat on the wooden slabs that made up the bleachers' benches. She crossed her legs and tried to regulate her breathing, watching as Richard entered the stage.

Richard's field turned out to be a semi-urban setting consisting of stunted walls and broken rubble. His challenge of tier six summoned beings was a troop of cunning Corpse Wolves, Undead creatures riddled with disease and venom. A single wolf was barely past the range of tier three. However, when the wily creatures worked as a pack, they became a significant threat to settlements and expeditions, capable of taking down entire parties of Mages.

A few seconds into the fight, Gwen could see that the alpha of the pack was highly intelligent, commanding the others to surround Richard as soon as the wolves orientated their senses to their new surroundings.

As before, Richard spread motes of water throughout the surroundings, abusing the superior elemental control afforded by Lea.

A minute later, the pack was quashed, and the alpha whimpered in a Watery Tomb. Then, with casual cruelty, Richard dispatched the beast, rending it limb from limb like a child tearing the wings from a fly.

Richard waved at her, or more precisely, he waved at those behind her, leaving no doubt as to what he would do should they bully his cousin.

Waving back, Gwen swallowed anxiously, wondering why her hands and feet were stone cold.

With the Undead Wolf torn to bits, Richard asked the proctor if the exam should continue. The proctor affirmed his success, and the practical exam ended without incident.

For Richard, the applause was genuine.

"Well, shall we?" Richard extended a hand toward her as he came up the bleachers. "There's one more to go."

Gwen shot a sideways glance at her fellow contestants, whose faces were unreadable masks of consternation. Her wan lips broke into a smile as she looked up at her peerless companion. "Let’s go then," she replied, taking his hand.

The interview.

A future curriculum.

And Caliban's rebellious teenagehood.

Richard was right—she had bigger fish to fry than these kids and their teenage angst.

Chapter four

Questions and Answers

Their final exam was an interview, which took place within the westside Tower, also known as 'T1' of the Hall of Brilliance.

Now unified as a single troop, the potential scholarship students meandered across the campus, drawing attention from passersby as they moved. Gwen and Richard brought up the rear to avoid unwanted attention, succeeding thanks to the noise of the arrogant group in front.

After what felt like an impossibly long walk, they entered the hall. Within, Gwen marvelled at the conjunction of deco-cum-Orientalist decor famous to Fudan.

In Chinese pictograms, an imposing marble plaque read "Fudan University" at the forecourt's centre, punctuating a spacious atrium favouring a square-in-square design of unparalleled symmetry. Above and adjacent, nine lumen-lit square blocks made up the nine-metre high ceiling, lit by a powerful Daylight array diffusing a soft radiance. From what she could see, the decor's equal-distant triple segments formed an auspicious number nine, said to be the number of Heavenly Dragons and initially, a design favoured by dynastic emperors.

"This way." One of the proctors led them toward the Levitation mountings.

Within, Gwen continued marvelling at the meticulously planned decor. From vaulted corridors hung visions of old Magisters now and then, gazing benevolently at the next generation of Fudan students.

There were four Levitation platforms, each holding at least twenty individuals. Still, as they filed into the elevator, Gwen found herself pressed against the mirrored walls.

"Wow, you're tall. So tall!"

Gwen looked down.

A doll-faced Asian girl stood an inch across from her chest, looking up at her with an expression of earnest admiration. In heels, Gwen stood a good head taller than the diminutive student, whose youthful appearance made her seem younger. Regardless, Gwen guessed the girl to be sixteen or seventeen, with a petiteness that reminded her of Elvia; a recollection that made her instantly sad.

"Hello there," she greeted the girl. "I am Gwen Song."

"I know," the girl beamed. "I saw you at the trial."

"Ah, I am sorry then," Gwen grimaced. "What's your name?"

"Mayuree."

"Nice to meet you, Mayuree." Gwen put on the friendliest smile she could muster.

"Your monster is amazing," Mayuree continued. "What do you feed it?"

Gwen felt glad that the girl was more curious than frightened of Caliban. Maybe she was too sensitive? Such was the calibre of Mages when in Fudan. Feeling better, she mused about saying something jovial like "cuties like you" but decided against the mischievous impulse.

"Are you a healer?" Gwen asked. The girl certainly looked young.

"No. I am a Diviner," Mayuree chirped. "I tell your fortune if you like. I am super-accurate. All the others say so."

"Mia!" An interjecting hiss interrupted their conversation. Frowning, Gwen turned toward the hooded figure of the elfin Ice Mage. She was only an inch taller than Mayuree. The girl had a slight blue tinge to her hair and eyes and her skin glowed ethereally.

"Sorry." Mayuree struck out her tongue charmingly.

"Hi, I am—"

"I know who you are." The Ice Mage curtly interrupted her.

"And you are?" Gwen persisted with perfect politeness.

For a moment, there was only the thrum of the Levitation platform and the nervous breathing of others.

"Kitty Liang." The Ice Mage faltered under the pressure of Gwen's friendly gaze.

"It's nice to meet you, Kitty."

Kitty turned slightly away from Gwen and pulled a hood over her head. Gwen turned to Richard, who seemed to be enjoying the show immensely.

"Alright, fine. We'll let Mayuree live," he announced suddenly and audibly. "The rest we'll feed to Caliban."

There was an audible intake of breath from the junior Mages.

Gwen felt her face heat up as a dozen pairs of eyes searched her face for answers. "R-Richard!" she stammered, admonishing her cousin's ill-humour. She turned to the crowd. "He's joking. It's a joke. Caliban doesn't eat Mages."

Or so Gwen wished. The reality was that Cali loved eating Mages. She wanted to say something like, "Caliban doesn't eat people, I eat people", but that was worse both in truth and as a euphemism. Her specific problem was that, as Richard had said, Caliban did eat people—six, in fact, not counting the NoMs at Blackheath.

Not able to convince herself, she could hardly expect to persuade an audience who'd seen Caliban swallow a lion-goat-snake firsthand.

Soon, a semi-circle of space opened around Gwen, except for Mayuree, who seemed even more enamoured with her. Gwen glared at Richard, who had a grin split from ear to ear.

The lift opened, and the gathered Mages filed out in a hurry. Gwen was left alone with Richard, the moon-eyed Mayuree, the ice girl, and a wary-looking proctor.

"Please refrain from harming or eating any of your fellow students," the proctor stated wryly. "There will be stiff penalties and even prison time if you do."

"I intend no such thing," Gwen stammered.

"I should think so." The Proctor gave her a stern sideways glance before leaving their presence.

Gwen bit her lower lip as Richard sauntered out, seemingly pleased with his ability to connect Gwen with the people around her.

"Grrr!" Gwen stomped after her companion, her face flushed and hot. "RICHARD!"

The intimate room compounded Gwen's awkwardness.

The others now actively avoided her, averting her questions and refusing to look her in the eye, with only the Mayuree girl sticking to her like an odour, waiting on her every word.

Defeated, Gwen tried to divert the conversation to Richard. However, her companion sat by himself in the corner, cool as a cucumber, utterly aloof in his meditations, making contact with no one, comfortable in his skin.

Defeated, Gwen closed her eyes and tried to enter a meditative mindset.

Within her pocket dimensions, she could feel Ariel's playful empathy demanding to be released so it could bolt up and down the long corridor. There was also that ambient craving that emanated from Caliban, now more pronounced than ever, a pang of hunger that Gwen knew no mortal food could ever satiate.

In truth, part of her had always thought of Caliban as a dog, but with each new consumption, the once-innocent pup was becoming more sapient and demanding. If she should consume a sapient, sentient, intelligent Magical being, would Caliban gain a mind of its own? If so, how would she control it? She should be so lucky that Caliban could rationalise past its bottomless hunger and listen to her command! If not, a lynch mob awaited her. If they ran into another Huyi Xiao, Gwen was sure that Caliban would ignore her command and make a meal out of the Abjurer. After that, of course, she would become the dire and deadly nemesis of the Clan of Xiao, and the entire wrath of a four-century-old Clan would descend upon her like a landslide. Unlike Lea or Sufina, the hungering creature of the nether-dark was too instinctual, too dangerous to indulge.

What would happen if someone killed Caliban—not merely banishing it, but destroying its very existence? She would lose Cali forever; she would lose a companion that had saved her on more than one occasion for all time to come. Gwen shuddered at the thought. That would be like losing a part of her, like a hand or an arm or leg.

"Gwen Song!" the proctor called out.

"Present!" She answered on reflex, bowed, then made for the door to the interviewer's office.

"Good luck," Mayuree called, beating Richard to the punch.

The interview room's interior was almost cliched in its simplicity. Three examiners occupied a long desk, each outfitted with a glass of water drawn from a jug. An unfolded stool was positioned in front of the table, backlit by a large horizontal window that looked out the Tower toward the Fudan courtyard.

"Please sit, Ms Song." The proctor left Gwen alone with the coven of sorcerous examiners.

Gwen curtsied and bowed, then sat.

The first examiner introduced himself as the Faculty Head of Advanced Spellcraft, Magister Gillian Kilmer, a grey-haired gent with a soft, gentle face, attired in an Oxford tweet jacket.

The second was a hard-faced Chinese woman, her hair tied in a tight bun that stretched the skin of her head tautly. She introduced herself as the Department Head of Abjuration, Magus Liwen Du. She had on a severe uniform from which a pair of tanned legs extended without an ounce of fat, giving her a military air.

The last examiner came as an unbidden surprise, for the Provost of the General College, Professor James Ma, was an NoM!

Gwen felt her worldview flounder. How could an NoM be in such a powerful position?

She quickly put on her professional persona as she answered the man. The NoM professor wore a handsome mandarin jacket in the traditional style, his quicksilver hair slicked back against his skull, accentuated by a pair of gold-rimmed glasses.

"Welcome." Liwen drew Gwen's attention with an open palm. "I will begin first."

"At your pleasure, Madam Du," Gwen replied with confidence. She sat poised in her chair—her legs scissored and tucked, with her arms resting comfortably across her skirt. Be at ease, she told herself.

"I would like you to offer a postulated solution to a real-life problem. Is that alright?" asked Magus Du.

"Please do."

"Good," Magister Du continued. "Not so long ago, we experienced a regional incident, an episode regarding Frontier demi-humans."

Gwen's ears perked up, her mind processing every word.

"It was up near the Uyghur border, northeast of the Xinjiang Autonomous Region. For context, the PLA has historically engaged in skirmishes with the Centaur tribes on the Plain of Yuan since 1949. One of our outposts, consisting mostly of NoMs civilian and mining staff, was raided by the savages in February. Two Mages and a dozen NoMs, all of whom are important to the continued operation of the rare earth metal mine, were taken as hostages.

"The reason the Forward Operating Base fell is undetermined. In this scenario, you are the combat flight's captain. You have engaged with the Centaur scouts and routed them. However, upon reaching the mine, you find two dozen Centaur dissidents threatening to execute the hostages unless the PLA retreat from the region.

"Operation Command has given your team full authority on this mission. What would you propose to do? Please clarify your answer."

Gwen considered Liwen's real-life anecdote. She wasn't a military officer and she had not undergone mandatory military service, but she was a survivor of the Frontier and a Merman Tide at that.

Very quickly, she scanned her mind for a solution.

Hostages.

A standoff.

A regional conflict over land and resource.

But what the hell did she know about hostage resolutions? She wasn't a trained negotiator or a military operator. Her old-world job had been commodity R&D, offering risk-reward compensations and business solutions.

Quick! Gwen urged herself. Think!

"Is there a timeframe in which I must act?" Gwen inquired, suing for time.

"Assume maximum operation time to be seven days," Liwen watched her eager eyes, surprised that an answer was forthcoming so soon. "That was the timeframe given for the operation."

"Are we able to track the Centaur's tribe? Where they came from?"

"You are." Du raised a contoured brow.

"Is my team capable of neutralising the village? Overpowering any local resistance?"

"Undoubtedly."

"I see."

Gwen ran the keywords through the filter of her long-term memory, spinning her lobes to overdrive.

Hostage exchange. Regional conflict.

Parallels, parallells, parallels.

It was a situation with a superior militant force set against a guerrilla native resistance.

Africa? Middle-East? Gaza? Israel!

Her memories threw up the name of Gilad Shalit.

Would the parallel work?

She had no idea, but she had to try.

"Very well." Gwen took a deep breath. "I choose to negotiate with the Centaurs in the mine and stall for time. Meanwhile, if permissible, I will seek to capture double or triple the number of Centaurs' tribesmen, favouring relatives of the captors. I will then have them brought to the mine for a prisoner exchange."

"If they are unwilling?"

"To show that I am operating in good faith, I will release the wife or children of one of the assailants, especially someone who could challenge the authority of the captor's leadership, such as a notable warrior or second-in-command. That way, there will be a feeling of dissent among the Centaurs as those without a feeling of safety will feel maligned and isolated by those whose families are safe. Furthermore, with their family by their side, those who had experienced mercy would think twice about engaging in mutually assured destruction."

Liwen tapped her nails against her scribe-slate. "Then?"

"Then I will repeatedly offer individual warriors the option of a prisoner exchange, multiple prisoners for each hostage. I will isolate their decision making by demanding collective bargaining, creating divisions through pardoning those who surrender first."

Du made notes as she nodded. "A fascinating suggestion, Ms Song. I wonder if Desert Fox One should have gone with your highly speculative proposal. Out of interest, what do you think was the PLA captain's choice?"

Gwen sipped her glass of water. It didn't take a stretch of the imagination to believe that the Moscow Theatre Hostage Crisis was the go-to modus operandi of the PLA, who saw Mages and NoMs as little more than pawns. Certainly, Gwen could imagine her grandfather, Guo, making such a crude choice without so much as blinking an eye.

"You killed them all," Gwen replied with a measured tone. "The Centaurs and the hostages. Correct?"

A soundless reticence reigned.

"Officially," Liwen spoke after the moment passed, looking at Gwen with renewed interest. "The Centaurs killed the hostages and then collapsed the mine. It was, after all, an act of terrorism."

"Of course," Gwen affirmed quickly, wondering if her lack of doublespeak had breached some protocol. Should she have said that the citizens had given their lives to better the party?

"That is all I wish to know." Du turned to the others. "Your turn."

"I will go next," said Magister Kilmer. "Gwen, I want to ask you a personal question. Can you tell me about your motivations? Why do you want to be a Magus or a Magister? Mayhap even a Meister?"

Gwen breathed out at receiving a staple interview question. As for an answer, she would be herself. It was time to rustle their wizard hats… if they had worn them.

"I am a Void Mage," Gwen began with a blatant statement of truth.

The trio nodded. The examiners had read her file already; they would know the rarity of her talent.

Gwen began to speak. "My motivation is freedom. I want the power to be not coerced by external forces. I want to live the way I want, do the things I wish to do. I want to protect my friends and contribute meaningfully to the world on my terms. I want to preserve who I am and aim to be at all cost."

"Do you not find that desire a little… idealistic?" Gillian proposed dubiously. "Naive, even."

"Not at all." Gwen smiled at the Magister winsomely. "As I told my mentor, the late Lord Kilroy of Sydney, I wish to become a militant pacifist."

"A militant pacifist!" Liwen repeated. "How so? Would that not be a paradox?"

"Peace through power," Gwen retorted. "Magister Kilroy believed that peace is possible if one is so powerful that their enemies dread the prospect of rising hostilities. I likewise aim to be such a vexing nightmare to my foes, who would prefer to leave me be."

"Your peace is a euphemism for tyranny." It was Provost Ma who spoke. "Your interest would supersede all others? Absurd!"

"My interest would be utilitarian; the greatest boon for the greatest many," Gwen shot back. "I would walk the Path of the Militant Pacifist and dispense the justice of noblesse oblige. I would balance power with deeds, offset violence with generosity."

The interviewers stared at her. From their expressions, Gwen saw that her proposal was ridiculous, even if the words were thrilling to the ear.

"Are you so confident that this power would be yours?"

"Of course." Gwen went all in. "I possess Void and Lightning and five Schools of Magic. What I need is the opportunity, space and time."

"What makes you think you can remain uncorrupted by so much power? How would you walk this tightrope without falling? Better Mages than you have lost to that temptation. Why should we invest in a future menace?" Magister Kilmer leaned forward.

"With help," Gwen replied confidently. "With my friend's help. With my family's help. With your help. With Provost Ma's help. With the university's help. With the Tower's help."

Magister Kilmer snorted. "Help comes at a cost."

"Yes." Gwen looked toward her interviewers seriously, her eyes a blaze of blue-green mana. "I am no saint. I need guidance. The Void needs guidance. Help is mutual, and I can do much for Fudan, more than Fudan can do for me. And if not Fudan, then…"

Gwen left the rest unspoken.

"Is that a threat?" Provost Ma demanded guardedly.

"No." Gwen adjusted her hair purposefully. "That is life."

The examiners grew silent. Within the room, there was only the sound of their contemplation.

"My question is finished." Gillian Kilmer leaned back in his seat, his face a tad paler than before.

"One more question then." Provost Ma regarded Gwen critically.

"Please." Gwen dipped her chin elegantly, the cadence of her breath returning to its usual pace after her last bout of passion.

"This regards a recent matter." Ma looked at Gwen seriously. "A Mage has been found exercising Transmutation experiments on NoM civilians. When discovered and caught, the Transmuter reveals she has synthesised a new way to manufacture higher-tier potions, but the price of her discovery is almost two hundred NoM, a dozen dead, the rest maimed. The Magus comes from an influential Clan, now suing for her release in exchange for publishing her findings. You are the PLA arbitrator assigned to this case and the discoverer of the Transmuter's deeds. How do you proceed?"

Gwen didn't need a Nuremberg doctor's trial to answer that question.

"I would publicly shame the Clan of the Transmuter and confiscate the findings for the state, then sentence the Transmuter to imprisonment for her crimes. A show trial should commence for the surviving families of the NoMs, with reparations from the Clan going to each NoM victim."

The confidence and brevity of her answer surprised them all.

"I see." Gwen's measured response didn’t seem to sit with Provost Ma, though the other two Mages wore pleased, concurring expressions.

"Although, if may I speak candidly?" Gwen continued.

"Go on."

"I believe that all life, NoM or Mage, is sacred," Gwen said seriously. "I am unsure of the legality of what the Mage has done, but in all seriousness, to dissuade such inhumanity in the future, I would personally advocate the harshest penalty, even if it should be a death sentence. But anyway, how did the real-world example play out?"

"Your prior assessment was the correct one." Provost Ma seemed stunned by Gwen's candidness.

"Indeed, such is the world we live in, sir," Gwen said sadly. Even now, her spine tingled with adrenaline. "But it doesn't make it right."

Provost Ma pushed up the rim of his glasses. The other two Mages chuckled politely.

"I have no more questions," Ma stated. "You may go."

"Thank you, sirs and madam. Magister and Magus. Professor," Gwen stood from the seat and curtsied once more. She turned on her heels and stalked from the chamber, her heart pounding as the tension drained from her body.

Richard hailed her outside. "Did it go well?"

Gwen honestly had no idea, but the instructors had seemed impressed. "I think so. No one tried to shut me up." She shook out her over-tense body.

"Richard Huang, are you ready to proceed?" The proctor motioned for Richard to enter.

"I shall return." Her cousin winked and entered the room. The door to the room shut.

Gwen found a spare seat and sat. She closed her eyes and meditated.

Please be kind to my answers! She had done the best she could. She was entirely herself, just like Dean Luo had suggested.

"Heya!"

Gwen's eyes snapped open.

Mayuree was an inch from her face, her breath sweet with sugar. "What did they ask you?" the petite girl enquired eagerly, her big brown eyes glimmering.

"You've finished your interview?"

"Yeah, it was great."

"Well," Gwen suppressed her voice. "I got a question on Centaurs, on myself, and NoMs."

"Ooo, I got the NoM one too!" Mayuree tittered. "Did you free the Mage?"

"Yes," Gwen told a white lie; advertising her NoM sentimentality in public was probably not the best way forward in front of the scholarship candidates.

"Ha! I knew it. What Clan or house are you from?"

"Song," Gwen replied stoically, though that was a misnomer in itself. Gwen knew the Songs did not consider her an inheriting member of the house. In fact, from Guo's cautious aloofness, Gwen felt that he had never even thought that she might be a part of his legacy in any capacity, not that she cared. In Sydney, her real home, she had Gunther and Alesia, Elvia and Yue and Opa. Nonetheless, she felt strongly for her babulya, Uncle Jun and Petra.

"Just… Song?" Mayuree tilted her head and came even closer.

Gwen averted Mayuree's intrusive profile. The mousy girl did not subscribe to a belief in personal space.

"Just Song," Gwen concurred.

"Okay, I am just Mayuree as well," the Mage said happily. "So where did you find that big bad Caliban?"

Gwen could hear the others leaning in.

"Find it?" Gwen blinked. "Caliban came with my Familiar spell."

"Whoa! NO WAY!" Mayuree shrieked, causing Gwen's ears to ring. "A big brute like that just fell into your lap? That's SO LUCKY! You MUST have done something wonderful in a past life!"

If only Mayuree knew, Gwen mused. As for being a Samaritan in a past life, she'd rather not dwell on that.

Not heeding her lack of a response, Mayuree persisted in making small talk until Gwen's jaws were sore.

Eventually, the door opened. "All done," Richard announced happily to the world.

"Richard!" Gwen stood from her seat, ignoring the torrent of questions stemming from Mayuree's rapidly moving mouth. "How was it? How did you go?"

"Swimmingly." Richard's mirthful expression was the same as always.

"So, what do you think?" Magus Liwen Du asked her colleagues.

"Do you mind if I speak candidly?" Ma borrowed a little of Gwen's vernacular.

"Sure," Magister Gillian Kilmer gestured for Ma to go ahead.

"That Richard Huang is a psychopath," the provost stated. "He's a clear and present danger. He's missing a synapse. He's dangerous."

"He seemed like an outstanding candidate to me," Liwen riposted with a twitching brow. "A little unpolished, but we can hone the edge and provide a sheath to his naked blade. That's what Fudan is for, is it not?"

"I vote in favour of Richard Huang," Gillian added after a pause. "The university needs someone who can differentiate between necessary action and mewling sentimentality."

"Did you both not listen to his Centaur subjugation proposal?" Ma stated incredulously. "The man's a monster!"

"Our monster," Gillian retorted. "He has his loyalties straight."

"He's a mad dog," Ma insisted. "Capturing Clan women and children, torturing them before the dissidents. Sending them tongues, hoofs, organs? Cleansing a family for every hostage killed? How does that make us different from the rogue Mages? From the terrorist? From the demi-human savages?"

"I think it would work," Liwen stated boldly. "Centaurs are highly communal creatures with a strong herd instinct. I think the PLA Tower should have taken an iron-fisted policy, now that Mr Huang has opened our eyes as to the extent we could have gone. The more I think about it, the more I like it."

"At best, we have peace and the return of hostages. At worst, we did what we did and cleansed the Upper Steppes anyway," Gillian pointed out to the Provost. "What's not to like?"

"The inhumanity of it all!" Ma blurted out passionately.

"James, calm down." Du placed a hand on the Provost's shoulders. "So, Richard Huang?"

James Ma sunk back into his seat. "My vote remains unchanged."

"Fine. On the matter of the Void girl?"

"Can I refuse?" Ma complained grudgingly. "It's not as if the dean would let her go. He would create a third scholarship position if we were to say no, would he not?"

"Still, what do you think?" Du asked. "Out of curiosity."

"Idealistic, naive, but I like her," Magister Kilmer stated confidently. "Strong will, clear logos, talent, looks, intelligence, Fudan could hardly ask for better."

"A little too green for my taste, too much of a dreamer," Liwen stated. "But, as Kilmer has said, that is the why Fudan exists. It is why our mock-Tower system exists. We'll hone her edge yet."

"Then vote in favour," Ma said suddenly. "I like her sense of justice. She's candid, too."

The two Mages smiled at their NoM compatriot.

"I thought you'd say that." Kilmer tapped his pen against the grey-stone slate. "That's three for three, then? Good. Let's get a move on, shall we?"

"Do we go home now?" Gwen asked the proctor.

"Indeed, we will be in contact," the Mage replied. "We hope to see you in Fudan again very soon."

Gwen asked if Richard wanted to look around the campus with nothing more left on the agenda.

"Sure." Her cousin nodded. "I am interested."

As the duo turned to leave, they were once more accosted by a chipmunk-faced Diviner.

Mayuree flashed an unreadable smile that showed off her pearly white teeth.

"We were wondering…" she asked shyly. "Do you guys want to come to a super-secretive and super-awesome auction? Kitty, Deng, Nathan and Kevin, and yours truly, are all going. Our box can sit ten people." She flashed a card embossed with a golden M.

Gwen and Richard met one another's eyes.

Super-secretive.

Super-awesome.

An auction?

The auction from the House of M? That’s today? Gwen recalled something from her cousin. She had promised Mina a date, hadn't she? Gods! She had forgotten all about it.

"Can I bring a friend?" Gwen asked their petite companion.

"Sure, Richard can come as well," Mayuree beamed.

"Ah, I mean another friend. You see, I'd promised—"

"Okay! No problem!" the bubbly girl squeaked. She took Gwen's hand unbidden and swung it back and forth excitedly. "I am sure it'll be super-interesting!"

"Richard?" Gwen turned to her companion to beg his confirmation.

"Sure, you got Mina's Message glyph?" Richard asked.

Gwen nodded.

"Hurray!" Mayuree's eyes twinkled, making Gwen wonder if the girl was naturally so bubbly. "Give me your address. I'll send a car over to pick you up."

Send a car? Was the little girl the kid of a big wig? Gwen pondered the ease at which Mayuree had suggested she could spare the resources to pick up strangers she’d just met to attend a super-secretive auction. She wondered if she should change her mind and decline, but she did need new friends in Fudan now more than ever.

"That's too much. How about we reconvene in Fudan?" Gwen suggested modestly. "Pick us up near the front gate? We're going to go for a walk and get to know the place."

"Okay! Five pm sharp," Mayuree chirped, letting go of Gwen's hand. "No backing out. I'll be so sad."

They watched the girl skip back to her group to explain her success. The group turned to regard Gwen and Richard with evident dismay, particularly the ice girl, who gave Gwen a nasty look.

"How much money you got?" Richard asked. "It's an auction, after all."

"Well, I got about three thousand HDMs in the ring," Gwen said quietly to Richard. "Think it'll be enough for something interesting or worthwhile?"

Richard was looking at Mayuree with a thoughtful expression.

"Richard?" Gwen repeated herself. "Something wrong?"

"No, not really," Richard patted her on the head. "Let's look around. As for the auction, I’m sure it'll be a blast."

Chapter five

A Trojan Gift Horse

Gwen and Richard found a Parisian cafe for an afternoon luncheon on University Road called Pierre's Patisserie, measuring minutes with the churning of coffee spoons while engaged in people-watching. The tea was a blend of leaves grown from an Elven sanctum in an Indian Orange Zone, diffusing a mild, potion-like effect that dispelled the hectic morning's fatigue.

While waiting, Gwen called up Mina and told her of Mayuree's offer.

"Mayuree? I know that name. Round face, about my height, Diviner? Excessively rich and clingy?"

"She's rich?"

"Very." Mina sounded less than thrilled. "We're acquainted but not close. You didn't let her latch onto you, did you?"

"Er…" Gwen's words caught in her throat. Mayuree had gotten close enough to kiss, not that she would.

"Is Richard coming?"

"Of course."

"Right, don't do anything I wouldn't do. Ah-Bao will drop me off at Fudan as soon as possible. See you soon, cousin."

Mina's flashy European sedan pulled into University Road about half an hour later.

Her cousin emerged from the exuberant eggshell interior of the saloon sporting a knee-length jacket, hinting at a shimmering dress hidden beneath the canvas covers.

Mina had prettied herself for the auction. Her impeccably coiled hair framed her China doll face, drawing admiring eyes from passersby.

Behind Mina, Gwen was surprised to see Tao, unsurprisingly adorned with a red duckbill cap and his signature Adidas getup.

"Sup, Cuz!" Tao threw Gwen and Richard a few arcane rap signs. "How's the test, dawg?"

"It went well, Peaches. Thanks for asking." Gwen gave the both of them a friendly peck. "Mina, do you think Mayuree would protest if—"

"Mia, that's Mayuree’s nickname, should be fine with it." Mina fluttered a hand in the air, interrupting Gwen's well-meaning bluster. "She's the sort that's friends with everyone."

"Alright," Gwen answered doubtfully. "What can you tell me about this Mayuree? Does she have a last name?"

"Not at all," Mina said. "She's not from around here, as far as I know. Her family is very wealthy. I recall her business group was responsible for the west wing of the library at my old international high school."

"Wow, if you think she's wealthy…" Gwen bit her lip, knowing that Mina's father was very, very rich. "Alright, so she's not your average Diviner either, then? She was at the Fudan mid-year scholarship trials."

"I wouldn't know about that. We've attended a few socials, but Mina is well known for her Augury."

"Fortune-telling?"

"Something like that. We went to school together in junior and senior high. Rumours say that Mia's got Divine blood from an old lineage. Who knows? It's not like we ran in the same circles."

"Divine lineage?" Gwen pursed her lips. "From the gods?"

"Your guess is as good as mine. The Old Bloods tend to marry within the Clan, though Mia doesn't seem like one of those inbred puritans." Mina shrugged. "But I'll tell you what, don't let her read your fortune!"

"But you said they're accurate," Gwen pointed out. Wasn't she a Diviner too? Maybe she could pick up some Divination pointers from Mayuree.

"Just don't. Accurate fortunes are the worst." Mina shuddered as if reeling from an unpleasant recollection. "If it's good, it ruins the surprise. If it's bad, you're going to live in an unbearable hell of anticipation."

"Can't you change the prediction if you know of it?"

"They're accurate," Mina retorted. "Let's stop here; I’m getting a headache just trying to figure out the paradox. You can take Divination 101 next sem if you want."

"Okay," Gwen promised. "No fortunes."

"Anyway." Mina pressed closer to Gwen. "Dad wants to thank you for helping out Peaches. His success really gave him face. He told us to help you in the auction any way we can."

"With currency, bitches!" Tao made a few Cs with his fingers. "We're cashed up!"

"A sizeable war chest." Mina slapped her brother's hands out of the way. "For Mao's sake, Peaches, stop that! We're right in front of Fudan. People here know me."

"What's the magnitude of his gratitude?" Richard interjected.

"Three thousand HDMs," Mina stated proudly, watching Richard's face. "For making Tao less of a loser."

"HOLY S—" Gwen covered her mouth. "Seriously?" Maybe she should professionally serve as Tao's life consultant? With every triumph, his father could dispense a bonus.

"As much of it as you can spend, yes." Mina insisted.

"No, no. It's too much," Gwen protested. Even after ripping off Dai Fung, that was all the money she owned. Unfortunately, when it came to money, she was a terrible actor.

"We insist," Mina said.

"Well, if you insist…" Gwen felt filled with inner fire. If she had almost six thousand HDMs, it meant she had a far better chance of picking up some critical ingredient or an item that could significantly improve her bid for the LCSS. Maybe she could even find a spirit to feed Ariel!

Her joy was interrupted by the beeping from the streetside. Roaring closer, a stretch limo pulled into the parking bay. The obsidian pane wound down to reveal Mayuree's porcelain face, beckoning for Gwen's company.

Inside, Gwen watched Mina suffer as Mayuree clung to her cousin like a koala.

"I've known Mina for years." Mayuree leaned to nuzzle Mina on the cheek. "We're best buds. We should hang out more often!"

Mina discreetly pushed Mayuree away by inviting Gwen to sit closer. Gwen, however, was distracted by Tao, who took up two seats with his legs wide open, looking thoroughly "gangsta".

Mina sighed.

Gwen turned toward the spacious interior of the eight-metre-long stretch, where the other guests sat. There were the three nondescript young men she'd seen from the exam, whose names she didn't recall. They sat around Kitty, the Para-Elemental Ice Mage with the pixie cut. With effort, she attempted small talk with the stoic foursome but felt impeded by the spectacle of her other cousin. As before, Kitty entirely ignored her.

Gwen wondered if Tao could discreetly displace himself when her cousin made an obscene motion with his fingers at the men who had chosen to distract themselves from Tao by peeking at Gwen.

"Yo! Whatchu looking at?" He swaggered abrasively to the quiet Kitty, who sat opposite him with an expression full of loathing, giving him the stink eye every time their gazes met.

Kitty, whose face had been unhappy as soon as Gwen and company had entered, addressed Tao with a cold, murderous look.

"Sup, ho?" Tao gave the girl a mixed-message grin. "You wanna ride this bad boy?"

Gwen spat forth a thimble full of the sparkling water she'd been sipping, soaking the front of her blouse. Bloody hell, she cursed in silence. How can a human being be so gifted at drawing out the worst in people?

Sure enough, one of the young men instantly took on an expression that suggested he was about to deliver retributive justice on behalf of the icy princess.

More so than before, she wanted to get off Tao's wild ride. Her eyes met Richard's. Unfortunately, Richard appeared to enjoy her suffering thoroughly.

Mina's expression grew mildly vacant, as though she was someplace far away. It was the look of insensibility made dull by long-term exposure to trauma.

Maybe the limo could pull over first. Gwen hoped against hope to drop Tao off. She was confident a Mage could survive a sudden ejection from a moving vehicle.

"Kitty, ignore him," Mayuree spoke, her interceding voice was sweet and soft, but the cold tone of the command struck Kitty like lightning. Obediently, Kitty turned her face away as though Tao was a fabric stain.

Gwen watched the body language of Kitty's foursome as she sat with her arms folded across her chest. She felt a prickling suspicion beginning to take shape within her mind. Rather than students from Fudan, Kitty and co reminded Gwen of a bodyguard.

"Sorry," Mina said to Mayuree.

"It's alright." Mayuree turned to Gwen. "Anything you're after at the auction?"

"Well," Gwen replied, "I don't know. What should I expect?"

Mayuree excitedly began to rattle off a list of potential purchases.

Dreaming of treasures to come, Gwen looked outside, where the illuminated nightlife of Shanghai came to life one by one, as though beckoned by an unseen Conjurer.

Half an hour of insufferable Tao later, the limo pulled into the illuminated expanse of an enormous hotel.

"We're here!" Mayuree's treacly voice announced.

They had arrived at the Shanghai Hyatt Regency, an eighty-eight storey marvel of a building situated in the heart of the Bund district. Perhaps in homage to the two Mage Towers or mayhap designed for symmetry, the international hotel likewise consisted of two towers, each constructed with a curved-glass exterior that offered panoramic views of Shanghai from the CBD to the Huangpu.

"This is the super-secret House of M auction?" Gwen's heels tapped the marble pavement as she stepped from the limousine. The atmosphere felt more akin to a red carpet event sans the paparazzi. All around them, well-dressed guests emerged from chauffeured vehicles or engaged the awaiting valets, beyond which a stream of waitstaff bowed at patrons before guiding them into the lobby and beyond.

Under the glass canopy, the atrium was an architectural miracle of vaulted glass thirty metres high, encased in rose-quartz marble and smoky-oak wood panelling. Beneath the cathedral of crystalline splendour, suited men and sparkling women engaged in polite conversation over canapés, sipping from tall flutes filled with amber liquid.

Beside Gwen, Mina slid her jacket from her torso and into her storage ring, revealing the visual spectacle of her silvery, shimmering dress. Sheer, glimmering, high-waisted and loosely hanging from her slender shoulders, it accentuated her princess demeanour.

"You're gorgeous," Richard said before Gwen could utter her compliment. "I am positively underdressed in comparison and feel both inferior and abashed in your presence."

"Never!" Mina cooed at her cousin, whose face was entirely serious. With an expression of smugness, she hooked an elbow in between the space between his arm and his waist. "Let's head inside. The exotic fauna garden on the second-floor atrium is a wonder."

Tao followed the couple, a natural-born third wheel.

Richard spoke to Gwen by leaning closer to her ear. "I'll leave a part of Lea with you." With an incantation, the Water Mage materialised a small, amorphous blob to hover just behind Gwen's ears, not unlike an Ioun Stone.

"Our suite is at 34-B," Mayuree reminded them as they left. She turned to Gwen, eyes sparkling. "Shall we?" The Diviner was dressed surprisingly conservatively in something akin to a mandarin dress in ivory.

"Let's go." Gwen smiled back, her mind full of wonders for the auction to come.

"Ms Song!" a voice cried out from the stairs.

They were intercepted on the second floor by a very surprised Magus Yuu.

"It's good to see you again so soon, Ms Song." The Magus shook her hand in an over-intimate manner. "Ms Mayuree, your presence delights me."

"Hey there, Meng." Mayuree nodded at the Magus curtly. "The auction prep is going well?"

Meng, Gwen duly noted. Not Magus, nor sir. Just Meng.

"Of course, Mistress," Yuu replied with an edge of caution to his voice. "All the items are secured."

"Is brother here?"

"Master Marong? He is in the VIP suite with his friends."

"I don't want a repeat of last time," Mayuree's voice had a touch of steel, which sounded strange coming from a face so sweet and innocent.

"Of course, Mistress," Yuu retreated from the two girls. "I shall waste no more of your time. Ms Song, please enjoy the auction."

Gwen turned to Mayuree. "Mistress?" She raised an arched brow.

"Don't pay it any mind." Mayuree laughed. "You probably think the title makes me sound arrogant, right?"

Gwen returned a polite chuckle. Mina was right; it was best not to delve too deep. She should get her auction done and get out of here. They could be home before midnight.

When they reached the private Box 34-B, Gwen saw that Kitty had already taken residence alongside Mayuree's three stoic stooges.

"Kitty." Gwen nodded at her before finding a seat closer to the edge.

Kitty snubbed her usual. Mayuree sat beside Gwen and again tried to strike up a conversation, with Gwen answering her queries thoughtfully, though keeping a polite distance from offending the unhappy Kitty.

Below the amphitheatre was a concert complex converted for the auction, consisting of four tiers of private boxes, an upper and lower circle, and a standing-room pit.

Tao arrived soon after, his individual "style" drawing unfriendly and sceptical glances toward their box.

Richard and Mina also appeared. Mina told them they had taken a whirlwind tour of the buffet table before retreating to the second floor to sip pinot gris from tall, fluted glasses over a vista of the Bund at night.

"There's a buffet?" Gwen moaned. Why hadn't she seen the buffet? Thanks to Mia, she had been denied a boon of deletable Wildland supplements!

"Here, I got something for you," Mina materialised a plate of miscellaneous foodstuffs stacked atop a vessel filled to the brim. "That is, Richard asked me to get some for you. You should have mingled. He was so surprised when you walked right past the buffet section."

"Thanks, guys. I knew I could count on you." Gwen took the laden plate from Mina's delicate hands and began the loving work of replenishing her reserves. Caliban had taken a toll only hours ago, and here was free world-class food.

Mayuree looked upon the diminishing plate of triple-stacked food as if seeing Gwen for the first time. The others likewise regarded her gluttony with wide-eyed wonder.

"Where do the items come from?" Gwen asked Mayuree as she wrapped up her grand luncheon.

"Here and there, traders, adventurers, Magus and Magisters looking to trade for rare ingredients, that sort of thing, but that can wait. It's starting!"

Upon the illuminated central stage, the auctioneer began with a bang. The presiding agent wore a charcoal vest over a white silk shirt, accentuated with a bright blue tie. He stood ramrod straight, thin as a pencil, his face severe and aristocratic.

"LADIES and GENTS, MAGES, MAGUS and MAGISTERS! Thank you for attending our auction, hosted by the House of M, humbly at your service. My name is Arden Cooper, and I am your bid caller for the night."

The auctioneer's accent was distinctly British, his sonorous voice rolling off the tongue like smoothly churned butter, every syllable accentuated and annunciated with deliberation and emphasis.

"We have a lot of items to move tonight. We’re item-rich but time-poor. And so, befitting the scarcity of time, allow me to open with our first item."

An illusory barrier faded from existence, revealing a pair of exquisitely crafted ankle-high boots.

"Ladies and gents, a pair of Boots of Levitation, unisex, self-fitted, crafted by TK Giro from the hide of an albino Bauxite Rhino from the Orange Zone southward of Frontier Phuket. This item allows the use of the Levitation effect by will. Perfect for the curious dungeon crawler and consummate traveller. As a master-crafted item, the shoes possess an allowance of two hundred and fifty kilograms, with a maximum height of six metres. Furthermore, the shoes possess a built-in Feather Fall feature. The bidding begins at four hundred HDMs."

"I see five hundred." A bidder raised a glyphed paddle.

"Five hundred. Thank you, sir, for the fine start."

"Six hundred."

"Eight hundred."

"Eight hundred and fifty. Calling once! I am happy to sell it at eight hundred and fifty unless another enterprising collector would like to become the possessor of this unique item—is that so? Then eight hundred and seventy-five it is. The hammer is in the air, sir. Madam? Of course, eight hundred and seventy-five remains a bargain. I would like to remind all present that a portion of tonight's proceeds will go towards the maintenance and care of our citizens on the Frontier. As you know, Sydney has suffered a terrible setback. All that Auroch beef lost. Truly a tragedy! Nine hundred! I must congratulate you, sir, for having such rare judgement. Nine hundred going once. No more? Very well… going thrice! Sold to C028 for nine hundred HDMS."

A round of applause greeted the winner, whose box was just out of Gwen's field of vision.

So this was the auction. Gwen was happy that the methodology didn’t differ from her old world, only that the items were stranger than fiction.

The following article was a pair of bangles that provided a weak but autonomously activated, near-perpetual shield, allowing even an unconscious Mage to deflect attacks. It sold for nine hundred and sixty HDMs. The next was a set of a dozen potions of Heroism, blessed by some famous Cleric from the Roman Catholic Church. The liquid dispelled fear, gave clarity of mind, delivered minor healing, and enhanced fortitude, strength and agility. They were sold as a set for a total of one hundred and ten HDMs.

"Next, a rare ring offered by the Wildland Trade Consortium of Pudong, a ring of Animal Influence, crafted by a demi-human master."

The clamour from the crowd rose in pitch and volume. Gwen shifted to the edge of her seat. An item made by a non-human magic-user?

"From the Woods that Wend, crafted by Master Iythronel Yllahice from the yearling growth of a millennia-old Dryad, this ring offers wearers the ability to speak to mundane and magical animals. Furthermore, users may command and influence low-tier magical beasts, as well as evoke an area of effect fear which affects all creatures within a maximum radius of one hundred metres."

"A demi-human crafter?" Gwen turned to Mayuree again.

Her companion nodded.

The auctioneer continued.

"The bidding begins at one thousand HDMs."

"Two thousand!"

"Three thousand!"

The contest for the ring was far fiercer than Gwen had anticipated, ending at three thousand, eight hundred and fifty HDMs.

"What does a demi-human do with HDMs?" Gwen asked Mayuree, expecting that the Mistress of Magus Yuu would possess some insight into the matter.

"Trade, really," Mayuree replied casually. "We have resources the demi-humans need, they have items and ingredients that we need. HDMs are an easy currency for exercising that goal."

"Do they have any use for the crystals themselves?"

"Sure, empowering our magical devices, using it themselves or dispensing it as a reward. Mageocracy HDMs are now a standardised currency even among the other races. Man-made HDMs are super-popular."

"How so?" Gwen found the notion puzzling. Were the other races treating HDMs like the US petrol dollar? If so, was this a naturally forming phenomenon or a politically imposed one? "Can't the demi-humans mine their own? All the mines are in the Wildlands, no?"

"No, you silly! Only we can mass manufacture HDMs." Mayuree's helpful tone was full of eager information, looking happier now that Gwen was speaking to her more naturally. "The other races tend to prefer barter. The Mageocracy's universal currency makes cross-cultural, intercontinental trading much easier."

"I see." Gwen turned back to the auction. "Thanks for the heads up."

"Anytime. You'll learn all of this in the General Course anyway."

A dozen more items came and went to their new owners.

"LADIES AND GENTS!" The auctioneer continued. It had been almost an hour since he’d begun, his clarion voice growing in intensity with every item sold, as though the auctioneer's stamina fed off the flow of currency. "Now for the rare ingredient component of our evening."

Applause and cheers hailed the announcement.

The ingredients consisted mainly of Creature parts, each with different attributes of elemental affinities that made them unique in creating particular kinds of magic items from skin, eyes, teeth, nails and organs of various parts.

"Next, a Fruit of Life, A Fructum Vitae!"

"Gwen!" both Mina and Richard spoke up, but Gwen didn’t need their advice to know that she needed to bid for the fruit.

"Someone else must have found one as well, from the Hengsha Dungeon," Richard observed when the fruit made its appearance. Its durian-like exterior hinted that it likely had the exact origin as their own as it sat in its stasis box.

"One hundred!"

"One hundred and twenty!"

"One hundred and forty!"

"Two hundred!" Gwen called out.

"Very good, to the lovely lady in 34B! Two hundred. Going once!"

"Two hundred and thirty!"

"45A, two hundred and thirty! Do I have an answer from the miss in 34B?"

" Two hundred and fifty!"

" Two hundred and seventy!"

" Two hundred and seventy-five!"

" Two hundred and seventy-eight!"

"Go to three hundred," Mayuree suggested. "Don't creep your bids."

"Three hundred!" Gwen raised a paddle that displayed the number she’d announced.

"Three hundred! Going once, going twice, GONE! Sold to 34B."

Gwen shivered. The auction was more exciting than she had anticipated.

"What do you need a Fruit of Youth for, anyhow?" Mayuree dug for details. "Someone in the family looking to turn back the clock? There are better options for that purpose."

Gwen told a half-truth. "It's a Void Mage thing. I need as many as I can get."

"Magical fruits have diminishing returns," Mayuree pointed out helpfully. "How many have you had?"

"Two."

"Four or five is the usual limit, then you'll barely notice its effects," Mayuree advised. "Although you should probably consult someone from the Alchemical Faculty. Maybe they can synthesise it for you for some CCs. I can help out if you lack the connections."

"Thanks, I'll look into it if I get the chance." Gwen returned her eyes to the auctioneer. "Now what?"

"Someone will be here to collect and deliver," Mayuree told her expertly.

"You come to these auctions often?" Gwen asked.

"Now and then." Mayuree's eyes twinkled.

Gwen turned back to the stage, where the illusory veil lifted from the next item and a flash of elemental lightning lit up the entire auditorium. Gwen's eyes locked onto a Creature Core with the appearance of a yellow diamond.

"Now, a wonder from the Forbidden Zones of Central Africa, pilfered from the Heart of Darkness, from the reachable sanctums of the Mbochi, a rare and precious gift for those who wish to traffic in the power of the gods and channel the divine essence of the heavens—a Crystalised Heart of the Congolese Eland!"

Gwen had no idea what an Eland was, but she suddenly knew that this was an item she needed. Within her pocket dimension, Ariel had sensed the resonating elemental resonance emanating from the crystal heart and was begging for release into the Material Plane. As motes of Lightning mana filled the room, the empathic link grew so intense that Gwen squirmed on her seat.

Discreetly, Gwen allowed Ariel to manifest.

"EE!"

"Oh, how precious!" Mayuree did not seem surprised that Gwen had summoned a Lightning Element Familiar. "What's its name?"

"Ariel," Gwen replied distractedly, trying to catch the auctioneer's boastful description while trying to control the squealing Ariel. In her lap, her Familiar was busily trying to illustrate something with its paws, alternating between begging, wagging its head cutely, and flopping onto its belly and squirming like a serpent-waisted cat.

"Here, let me try. Lea, if you please?" Richard intervened.

A minuscule Lea about the size of Ariel's non-combat form appeared beside it and began to converse with Ariel.

"EE—EE!"

"EE?" Lea replied

"EE!"

"Ee-ee?" Lea nodded.

"Lea speaks marten?" Gwen felt her knowledge of the always-amazing Undine renewed yet again.

"Nature spirits can commune with animals at will," Mayuree cut in helpfully beside her. "I can too, you could have asked."

Lea turned her tiny face up toward Gwen. "It says that it wants to eat the gem so that it can grow strong like Cali."

"Why?" Gwen seemed puzzled by the marten's request. "Ariel can't shapeshift, can it? It's not like Caliban."

"Not like Caliban, no," Richard advised. "But you have to remember that both Caliban and Ariel are not actual fauna. They are special creatures empowered by Lord Kilroy. They're not native anymore. How else do you think they reside in your pocket dimension? They don't drink water. They eat mana crystals. They don't defecate, they don't suffer from illnesses, nor can they be bred."

"They're elementals," Gwen realised where Richard was going with the reminder—beings manifested from the primordial chaos where the fabric of the planes was thin. They grew in power through living in regions rich with reinforcing elemental forces.

And most importantly, they were a part of herself. Strip away the animus provided by Summon Familiar and Ariel would be a ball of lightning, just as Caliban would be a vicious mass of hunger. Only spirits could retain their astral forms, though she hadn't been that lucky.

"…a region ravaged by storms and lightning, beyond the habitation of man. Here is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity!"

Below them, the auctioneer had finished extolling the virtues of the Eland's heart. Now was the moment of truth.

"The float begins at two thousand HDMs."

"Oh no, there's no way we can afford that." Gwen turned to Richard. From her observations of the previous auctions, they were most definitely short.

"Three thousand!"

"Four thousand!"

"Four thousand five hundred!" Gwen was almost out of cash.

"I'll lend you twelve hundred HDMs," Mina interjected. "Go for it!"

"Four thousand six hundred!" Gwen held up her card and called out.

"Four thousand seven hundred!"

"Four thousand eight hundred!"

"Four thousand nine hundred!"

"Five thousand!" She gritted her teeth and continued. There better be some fortuitous part-time jobs when this is said and done, Gwen thought worriedly. Maybe she could take Tao out for another spin and squeeze some more gratuity from Patriarch Wang.

"Five thousand one hundred!"

Gwen cursed. From the sounds of it, there was at least three others bidding.

"Five thousand five hundred, going once! Going TWICE!" The auctioneer did that elongated voice which irked Gwen to no end.

"Five thousand five hundred and fifty!" Gwen had to save as much money as she could for her university days ahead, but Ariel was genuinely desperate. There was still accommodation, food, textbooks, socials and God knows how many other expenses. The scholarship might mean that her courses were free of charge, but that was assuming she even received one. She would have to find a loan somewhere, maybe contact Gunther or Alesia to beg for alms, which made her face burn just thinking about it.

"Five thousand seven hundred!" The next bid dashed the last of Gwen's motivation. Opportunities come and go. Ariel's existential upgrade could wait.

"Keep bidding," Mina urged.

"No. We can't afford it." Richard shook his head.

"But it's a rare item." Mina looked as though she wanted to start bidding on Gwen's behalf.

"One we can't afford." Richard's words stabbed Gwen in the gut. She hugged the antsy Ariel close to her chest and squeezed her Familiar tightly. Sensing its Master's disappointment, Ariel struck out its salmon-pink tongue and licked her face.

"Sorry, Ariel." Gwen stroked the marten. "Not today."

"Eeee." Ariel channelled her guilt and hung its head sadly.

Her cousin appeared stunned by the idea that Gwen could give up something so potentially beneficial to one of her primary powers.

The next call surprised them all.

"Seven thousand!"

Somebody must want the crystal desperately.

"Well, that's that then." Gwen breathed out. She felt less disappointed now that it was clear the item wasn't to be. As with life, if she wanted to win, she would have to work harder for fame, currency and influence.

"Going once… going twice…" the auctioneer announced quickly. "Sold! For seven thousand HDMs!"

The sound of applause filled the auditorium.

More items came and went, but Gwen had lost the happy anticipation with which she had begun the night. Later, a ring that allowed one to negate Paralysis and ignore Slow and Halt effects fetched eight thousand HDMs. Another rare item was a shimmering dress which turned out to be Elven made chainmail, as light as cloth and as resilient as upper-tier magical spider silk, capable of impeding virtually all non-magical physical attacks. That austere item fetched twelve thousand HDMs. It seemed that demi-human artifacts fetched almost double the price of human-made items.

"Good grief," Gwen breathed out when the hammer fell. "That's an obscene amount of money." For a dangerous moment, she wondered if she should pawn something, but her rings were priceless. The Teleportation Ring was from Gunther. The Ring of Evasion was from her Master. The storage ring was from her opa. They were untappable treasure troves.

Then, as quickly as it began, the stage went dark, and the sound of shifting seats and moving people filled the auditorium. Gwen sighed. It was time to leave this place of extravagance and return to reality.

"Don't worry about it," Mina assured her. "You can always use CCs. As long as whatever you need exists, somebody somewhere will try and get it into your hands. It's just a matter of time."

But time was precisely the matter, as her grandmother had so wisely reminded her. Time was the only finite thing she possessed.

As they turned to leave, there came a knock at the box's door. One of the young men opened it to reveal Magus Yuu. "MS Song, I have your Fructum Vitae." Yuu presented the piece of white-jade flesh stored within a stasis device.

With a touch of rings, Gwen transferred three hundred HDMs over to Yuu, and the exchange was complete.

"Oh yes, I have also brought the item you requested, Mistress." Yuu motioned behind him, and a young woman in an attendant's uniform brought out a velvet cushion, upon which a crystalline heart sat, glowing with the hysterical radiance of elemental lightning.

Gwen felt her heart catch in her throat as the core illuminated the interior of their private box. Richard took on a thoughtful expression and turned toward Mayuree with an unreadable expression. Tao's eyes were aglow, as were Mina's.

Casually, Mayuree plucked the core from the cushion. "Gwen, catch!" she announced mirthfully and tossed the offending object toward a flabbergasted Gwen, who fumbled her catch with heart-in-mouth panic until she finally caught it on her lap.

"Wha—?" She held the precious object; the seven thousand HDM treasure hummed in her trembling hands. "What's the meaning of this?"

"A memento for our friendship," Mayuree announced with smiling eyes that sent goosebumps down Gwen's spine. "For commemorating the day we met."

The heart-shaped core felt as though it possessed the weight of a neutron star in Gwen's lap.

Should she return it? Give it back? Of course she should. A gift without cause was a dangerous thing. A nasty, hazardous thing. A debt.

"I can't take this." Gwen protested. "It's too mu—"

"Ee—!" Ariel launched itself at the orb.

CRUNCH!

Gwen looked at her lap. Ariel had broken off a small chunk of the crystal and was happily chewing away. Her eye began to twitch uncontrollably. With horror, Gwen regarded the happy Ariel with as much love as regret, cursing her inattentiveness. It was her Familiar's fault, but she controlled her Familiar, ergo, it was her debt to pay.

Her eyes fell upon the smiling face of Mayuree, so childish, tender and innocent. Without guile, Mayuree's irises glowed with a tinge of near-colourless violet, burning with motes of Divination.

There came the sound of another crunch coming from her lap. Not that it mattered the second time. From the first bite, there was no returning the core.

"We're friends, right?" Mayuree begged with a voice that tickled her soul and made Gwen cross her legs a little tighter. "Right?"

Chapter six

A Gift Once Given

Afriend in 'deed' is a friend indeed," Gwen, said, watching Mayuree with suspicion. "But a deed performed without need—"

"You're far too serious," her benefactor said, dismissing her disquieting quip. "What's a paltry Elemental Core for a gesture of goodwill? Ariel needed the core and I could afford to gift one. Is that so bad?"

"Not to look a gift horse in the mouth," Gwen winced at the sound of Ariel's gluttonous crunching from below, feeling its paws crumpling her dress, "but your gesture is too grand to gift so casually. Surely a girl must wonder—"

"It's a trifle. It's nothing. I’m not asking for the world, just the things that girlfriends do: some shopping here, some adventuring there. I've got the backing and you've got the firepower. What's not to like? We'll be like a dynamic—"

Gwen tensed. Where had she heard that before?

"Aright, Mia," said Mina, evidently having had enough of Gwen's diplomacy, "cut the crap. Gwen's not going anywhere with you. What are you up to?"

"Making a friend," Mayuree insisted, her complexion glowering a shade darker. "What does it look like?"

" Do we look like fools?" Mina snapped at her alumina. "We've known each other since high school. What do you want from Gwen? What's your game? Is this one of your Divination ploys?"

Mayuree looked stunned by the ferocity of Mina's accusation and responded with a forced smile. Behind the petite Diviner, Gwen could feel hostility from Kitty and the three guards, and it was growing more palpable with each accusation.

"So this is all an act of generosity?" Richard said, stepping in the middle, his voice neutral and unmoved, making him seem more sarcastic. "No strings attached?"

Kitty opened her mouth to retort, but Mayuree stopped her with a glance. "You owe me nothing." She raised her hands defensively toward Gwen. Her expression remained unreadable, though her companions were far less proficient at hiding their displeasure. Kitty's scowl looked as though it could freeze the air with a single cantrip.

"She’d better not. It's only seven thousand HDMs," Mina said. "You're not wrong. It is a paltry sum."

Well, this is awkward, Gwen thought. Seven thousand HDMs was bloody astronomical as far as she was concerned. Even so, what was the Diviner's game? Would Mia's future favour involve the endangerment of her life or those close to her? If so, she would rather scrimp and save to pay back the core as soon as possible.

With the tension refusing to slacken, Gwen wracked her brain for a way to break it. She preferred to resolve the confrontation with diplomacy and tact, and walk away with a win-win, or at least a compromise.

Naturally, Tao's familiar, eager, high-pitched voice nipped that in the bud. "This ho is trying to entrap you. Dawg!" Tao flew fingers of accusations toward Mayuree's direction, spittle spraying every which way. "It's just seven gees, Gwen. I'll cover that shit like a dog with a bitch on heat. You can count on Peaches. This ho ain't turning no tricks on us, yo. No way. Arrgh…!"

A sliver of ice materialised rapidly on Tao's Adidas jacket, its stiletto-like point stabbing into the base of his skull. Kitty glowered behind Mayuree with a murderous stared from her cerulean irises, trailing strands of rime across her cheeks.

"You should watch what comes out of that foul hole." The air around the box fell by several degrees as Kitty spoke. "Offend Mia again, and I am going to shatter your filthy tongue."

"Lea!" Richard commanded.

Lea instantly dispersed into a fine mist. A rush of crystallising ice materialised around Kitty, falling like snow onto the velvet carpet below.

"That trick won't work on me." The Ice Mage said.

"Maybe, maybe not." Richard's face was impassive. "We'll know when you're begging."

Gwen felt her blood pressure rise as she became caught on the two sides of a crushing vice.

God damn Peaches!

"You're going to regret that," Kitty hissed.

Richard shrugged, then gave her a nudge. "Remember what we said on the lift, Gwen?"

"Er…" Gwen tried to recall the conversation. "T-the rest we'll feed to Caliban? Richard, no. Everyone, hold your horses."

"Mina!" Tao hid behind his sister. "Gwen. If ya gonna unleash the big C-dawg, better do it n—Ow! Oww! Arrrgh!"

The girl’s loathing for Tao appeared sufficient for manifest her magic.

The room descended into silence once again. Then there was an audible, deliberate cough. Eight pairs of eyes turned to see Magus Yuu clearing his throat.

"One moment." The Magus waited until he had their full attention. "Ms Song, Ms Mayuree, I cannot consent to a display of magic in a place such as the Hyatt Regency. For all your mutually beneficial interests, should you choose to proceed, I will have no choice but to report this public disturbance to the police, which, I would assume, would be an undesirable outcome for all, considering your circumstances."

Yuu's voice of reason brought the group back to reality like a well-timed Dispel Magic. Gwen exhaled with relief. The Magus was right. They were guests at the Hyatt Regency, one of the most extensive and exorbitant hotels in Shanghai. The stakeholders capable of creating such an architectural wonder would undoubtedly be intimate with the highest authorities of the PLA and the Towers, and their displeasure would shake the metropolis with every stomp.

"You're right," Gwen said before Tao could speak. "Magus Yuu is entirely and unequivocally correct. We need to calm down." She took a deep breath, then continued, "Likewise, I believe there's been a horrible misunderstanding. Mia wants to be my friend and I’m not opposed to having friends. As such, Mia and I would like a moment of privacy."

Her eyes turned to Mayuree. "Mia, can we talk? Just you and me, in private?"

"Of course, Gwen." Mayuree also looked as though a huge weight had been lifted from her shoulders. "Please give us some privacy, everyone."

"Mia…" Kitty protested.

"Mistress…" The guards were likewise unwilling.

"I insist." Mayuree raised her voice.

"Let's go." Richard gestured to both Tao and Mina. They made for the door.

"Richard," Gwen turned to him with a measured voice, "take Lea as well, please. I'll be fine."

The unseen Undine exited the room with the trio.

Mayuree's companions also left the box, albeit with unambiguous scepticism and paranoia. To Gwen, the caution made sense—Mia was a harmless Diviner, while she owned an all-devouring monster.

Magus Yuu stepped up once more. "I shall ensure that your companions remain duly segregated," he assured them. "Please take your time. They will be in one piece when you find them again."

With his promise delivered, the Mage closed the double doors silently behind him as he passed the threshold of the private box.

Gwen and Mayuree sat opposite one another as the crowd's clamour grew less boisterous with every departing guest.

"Alright, I’m listening," Gwen said. "You want to be friends? Fine. Friends should be honest, to a degree at least, so let's have it."

Mayuree's eyes glowed with the faint and subtle signs of Divination at play, dimming and glimmering with an ebb and flow that betrayed the girl's inner conflict. Slowly, her fingers relaxed, alternatingly gripping, brushing, then tapping the saddle leather of her seat until finally, it appeared that Mayuree reached a decision.

When the fresh-faced Diviner looked up again, she lost the appearance of an affable sweetheart and became one who had chosen to dispense masquerade for sincerity.

"I was there when you were at M on the Bund," Mayuree began, her voice containing a candidness that had been absent prior. "I knew then that we had to become friends."

"Why?"

"Because I need you," Mayuree replied stoically even as she looked doubtful of her persuasion. With a sigh, she leaned forward. "I need you so I can live."

Gwen felt a hint of colour rise to her cheeks. Mayuree was certainly cute, although she was no Evee. "Be serious." She brushed away Mayuree's touch.

"No, I’m serious," Mayuree continued unabated. "Let me clarify. My Augury told me that I need you to avert a potentially deadly episode in my life sometime in the future."

The revelation was supposed to shock her, but Gwen felt a mild, uncertain discomfort.

With a worried expression, Mayuree continued. "The night I saw you, I felt electrified by a reaction from my Divination Sigil. I immediately knew that I need you in my life, one way or another."

"That's…" Gwen wanted to say that's absurd, but then again, she reminded herself; her Familiar, a Lovecraftian battle-toad, had just swallowed a lion-goat-snake. Who was she to challenge the possible and impossible? There was also the fact that she was herself tapped into Divination, even though her sensitivity barely registered anything beyond imminent mortal danger. If so, why couldn't a powerful and talented Diviner know what they needed to ensure a "good" future came to pass?

"You think my proposal is preposterous? Of course, that's what it seems to someone ungifted in Divination. It's a talent that is both vague and ambiguous. I don't know how else to explain it. I don't know why. I only know that I can't be wrong."

"No, I mean that's believable," Gwen replied.

"It's stupid, I know." Mayuree winced. "Wait, you believe me?"

Gwen channelled a stream of mana into her Divination Sigil and incanted the simplest Detect Magic. Before her eyes, the world plunged into multicolour streams. She saw a fount of Divination well from Mayuree, strikingly illuminating an astral form surrounded by a purple-blue nimbus.

"Your element…" Gwen's surprised mirrored Mayuree's own. "You're attuned to the Quasi-Elemental Plane of Lightning?"

"Wait, what?" Mayuree's eyes bulged from her already sizeable sockets, giving her the likeness of a doll. "You're a Diviner?"

"It's one of my talents," Gwen replied carefully, feeling suddenly happier. She was thrilled that she'd found another Lightning Mage. Maybe she could learn a thing or two, or they could discuss the subtler points of manifestation. The proviso, of course, was that Mayuree genuinely wanted to be her friend and wasn't just looking for a shield to take on the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune.

"Though with Divination, I merely dabble," Gwen confessed with a feeling of mild shame. "Suffice it to say, I can empathise with your psychic intuition, so yes, I believe you, Mayuree."

"A tingling sense of peril is what Meister Warner's Divining Scale classes as tier one." Mayuree appeared amazed that Gwen was a combat Mage and also a Diviner. It would have made the process so much easier had she known. "My abilities are a little more nuanced than that. I can register up to tier four."

"I never studied Divination." Gwen felt a hint of pink flush her face. "Never got the chance. I know how to Detect magic, that's it."

"Oh?" Mayuree seemed taken aback by her nonchalance. "Sorry."

"Never mind me, do you have prophetic visions? Like the Delphi Oracle?" Gwen knew of no other Diviners. The Oracle was a household name, a visionary whose powers were said to have aided the Tower in minimising damage to humanity's cities.

"The Oracle is in a class of her own," Mayuree answered modestly. "Like most Diviners, I can only sense the future as it pertains to myself. My intuition works by predicting whether someone will be a boon or bane. A branch manifestation of Augury, if you will."

Gwen was reminded of Mina's first warning when she'd first mentioned Mayuree.

"Let me hazard a guess…" She studied the complex emotions of the Diviner's soulful eyes. "You read your fortune, huh?"

"I couldn't help it," Mayuree said. "Not after the near-seizure when I saw you at the Bund. I can't quite describe the sensation because it's all abstract, but I knew you were important. In my future, you feature prominently as a boon—an important and necessary one."

"I should think I’m a bane," Gwen confessed. "What with Caliban and all the baggage I’m carrying. I want to be entirely honest with you, Mia. I can't prioritise your needs; I want you to understand that. There’s too much I have to do."

"That's for powers higher than you and me to decide." She didn’t appear disappointed by Gwen's honesty. "I don't know what you have to do either. Maybe you could incidentally find an object in a dungeon that could save my life one day. Perhaps a beast that could have spelt my end dies by your hand. Mayhap even, we would be on the opposite ends of a factional conflict, and you could think of this moment and choose to spare me. The future is a fickle thing, Gwen. As fellow Diviner, you would know as well as I the dangers of presuming the currents of fate."

"Then why?" Gwen wondered about that herself. "Why go to all the effort if nothing is certain?"

"My arcane soul told me so," Mayuree's expression was bittersweet and helpless. "Would you believe that?" She looked at Gwen with desperation. "Not to mention, I do want to be your friend. You seem smart and beautiful, and you're surrounded by people who defend you because they’re your friends, not because of your status or influence. You may not understand how rare that is, Gwen, but I do."

"You have Kitty."

"Yes, I trust her. She's a rare friend, but it's more complicated than that."

"So the gift was just a ploy to get on my good side?"

"Can you consider it a down payment for pre-emptively saving my life? It doesn't have to do with our friendship at all."

Silence again descended between the two girls as Gwen weighed the risks and rewards in her mind, measuring Mayuree's confession for authenticity. Did she want to make a friend out of the Diviner? Could Mayuree offer her the "mateship" Yue and Elvia did? Gwen knew the answer to that.

But did she want to make an enemy out of the Diviner? No. The House of M, whatever its affiliation with Mayuree, was sure to be helpful in the future. If they could take advantage of Gwen in some manner she couldn’t begin to comprehend, should she not also take advantage of the opposition?

"I'll take what you've told me with a grain of salt," Gwen said. "So what now? We go our separate ways?"

"If that's what you want." Mayuree's dejected words lingered in the air. "Must that be the case?"

"Would you trust me if our roles were reversed?"

The girl considered Gwen's antithetical counter, then sunk defeatedly into her chair.

It wasn't much, but that was the remorse Gwen sought.

Ariel had finished eating the core by then, lapping up the last of its remnant residue from her skirt. It turned its belly toward her with a twisting motion and paddled its pink-beaned paws until it coiled into a serpentine C. Then, with a yawn that showed off its cutely protruding canines, it abruptly fell asleep.

Gwen dispelled her Familiar, watching Ariel dematerialise. Simultaneously, she made an empathic apology to Caliban, who had egged her for the opportunity to be let loose the entire time Ariel had been out and about. Caliban was understandably upset—earlier, its prey had been stolen from its jaws, while Ariel had just had a feast, then fallen asleep on its Master's lap.

Cali, we'll feed you something from the Wildlands soon, Gwen promised her increasingly sagacious creature. She repeated herself several times until Caliban comprehended it. Satiated by the promise of a day of gluttony, the netherworld worm settled into its pocket dimension.

With poise, she stood from her chair. Below, she could see Mayuree's defeated eyes watching her warily.

"Hi, I’m Gwen Song," Gwen announced suddenly with a smile. "I’m new here."

Mayuree's face transformed from concern to comprehension, then to cognisance. "I-I am Mayuree," the young sorceress replied with a voice that grew in confidence. "I am a Diviner. I am a scion of the House of M, third in line to succession."

"That's marvellous." Gwen extended a hand. "I am principally a Conjurer, an Evoker, but I also dabble in Transmutation, Divination and Abjuration. I am a Void and Lightning Mage."

"That's a mouthful." Mayuree took Gwen's hand. "I mean, wow. Mao's Red Stars. Really?"

"And I’m a freelancer," Gwen added after some deliberation. "Though you could say I owe the House of Song a great debt. So that's who I’m with, at least for now."

"W-would you like to join the House of M?" Mayuree blurted reflexively.

"Not yet, no." Gwen shook the girl's hand. "We should meet up for a luncheon sometimes, some tea and coffee. I’m sure we'll see one another plenty in Fudan."

"Of course!" Mayuree's face once again assumed a youthful jubilance. "I'll pay. Whatever you want."

"We'll take turns," Gwen said seriously. "It's called shouting your mates."

"Right. Yes!" Mayuree's eyes grew a little moist.

"Great. Let us find our companions, then. I hope they haven't taken the hotel apart," Gwen suggested happily, then held out a hand.

"Ha!" Taking her fingers, Mayuree followed.

As Gwen reached the handle of the double doors, her newly-minted friend pulled her back by the elbows.

"Wait!" Mayuree took her by the arm with an urgency Gwen hadn't felt before. "Did you feel that?"

"Feel what?"

Then Gwen felt it. A tingling premonition struck the back of her mind like a pail of frigid water. Danger. Not dire, but a threat nonetheless.

Both the girls turned warily toward the door. Unbidden, it opened.

A cloud of smoke came billowing inwards, smothering the surrounding air. Ambient light from the corridor outlined a slimly built male dressed in formal attire. A gust of acrid tobacco accosted Gwen, sending her reeling backwards with a reflexive gag. Mayuree seemed more accustomed to the fermented smog, enduring it as though it were the beginning of a ritual.

As the haze dispersed, Gwen took in the silhouette that obstructed their exit. The man was a Mage, that much was obvious. She could sense the familiar mana condensed within his body, far surpassing her own. He had a face that was androgynous in its quality, with cruel eyes that were almond-shaped like Mayuree's but lined with thick, dark eye-lines that gave him a pretentious, gothic air. His complexion suggested he was of South-East Asian descent, as did his hair.

Once the smog cleared, she saw that the Mage wore a smoking jacket, casual but expensive, with a loud blue clover patterned dress shirt embossed with gold buttons imprinted with little "M"s. In his left hand, he held a cigarette that glowed as he inhaled and exhaled, stirring the smothering vapours.

Where was Richard? Or Mina? Or Kitty? Gwen tried to peep around him into the corridor. All she saw were more white-suited guards lining the entrance. As for her Message device, she had kept the bulky thing in her storage ring, and it was too late to retrieve it now.

She turned her eyes toward Mayuree, who seemed frozen to the spot as though she'd suddenly transformed into a little girl who'd been caught red-handed at the cookie jar.

Gwen wondered if this was the moment of crisis Mayuree had foreseen. Was death coming for Mayuree already? She had just befriended the socially awkward girl less than thirty seconds ago, and now the Grim Reaper came calling while toking on a fat cig? How good was Mayuree's Divination?

"Is this the girl?" the man demanded of Mayuree. His gaze fell upon Gwen like wet paper plastered over her skin. "You are. You're the Lightning girl from the other night; the one who whipped Dai, no?" The man spoke to himself. "I must say, for a Guang-er-dai, Fung has good taste."

Who the hell was this asshole? Gwen furrowed her brows. Why was he there in the first place? More importantly, Gwen thought worriedly, where were their companions?

"This is my brother," Mayuree said quietly beside Gwen.

"That's Big Brother Marong to you," the man retorted with cruel amusement.

Gwen instantly recognised the situation in which they'd just found themselves. She was no stranger to old-fashioned family rivalry. "Where are our companions?" she demanded.

"They're somewhere." Mayuree's brother possessed a falsetto voice that was at once pleasing and sensual.

"They're safe. Kitty and Richard are in the lobby." Mayuree informed Gwen after invoking a mote of Divination by her ear, signifying a silent Message spell in operation. "Brother Marong, Gwen and I have somewhere to be. Can you please move aside?"

Marong pulled his arms back to his sides and stepped aside. Mayuree glanced at Gwen, then moved toward Marong with the body language of cream being forced through a sieve.

Gwen took a step forward and grabbed Mayuree by the arm, pulling her back towards her chest.

Marong raised a brow.

Gwen sighed inwardly, reading Marong's body language perfectly. From the looks of Mia's shaking shoulders, Marong was a sister-bullying prick. Once she passed, the guy would probably separate the two of them and then play a cat-and-mouse game with Mayuree to see if his sister was willing to abandon Gwen.

"Mia, don't. He's fucking with you." Gwen's stepped in front of Mayuree, feeling her protective instincts kick into gear. "Hey asshole, what's your problem?"

Marong appeared astonished by his new title. "Did you just call me…" His mirthful smile faded from his lips. "No, never mind. I’m more interested in what Mia wants from you. My servant tells me that she'd been chasing you like a bitch in heat all afternoon.

"Look, I mean you no harm." The brother considered the pair intently. "I am just curious as to why my little sister is so interested in you. Surely a friendly chat is not beyond consideration."

"I am not interested in men who bully children," Gwen snapped at the offending Mage. If someone like this bullied Elvia, she would have stuck Caliban on his ass and damn the consequences.

To her surprise, Marong laughed, while Mayuree's face became flushed with embarrassment.

"I am older than you," Mayuree whispered stiffly behind her.

"Good for you," Gwen blustered back before turning back to Marong. "You letting us pass or not?"

"Is a few minutes of your time too much to ask for?" Marong remained firmly entrenched at the door. "A man has a right to be curious."

"You can't afford my time," Gwen riposted reflexively. She felt herself cringe the moment her words left her mouth.

This time, Marong raised both brows. "I am sure I can. Name your price."

Whatever the case, she wanted to get Mayuree out as soon as possible. She had no idea if Marong was the danger, but the man sure as hell felt like one.

Ahe raised a hand in protest, then near-instantly incanted her non-lethal distraction. "Flashbang!"

As the shockwave of sound resonated across the box and into the corridor, Gwen pulled Mayuree backwards, and the two of them fell from the balcony.

Gwen had endured enough of these situations from Fung and his company to know that if she’d agreed, there would be unpleasantness and if she refused, there would be unpleasantness. The best outcome was not to play Marong's game at all.

"Gweeeeeeneaaarrrgh!" Mayuree screamed as she fell, her Divination failing to foresee Gwen's unconventional mode of departure.

"Dimension Door!" Gwen could transport a passenger with her through the Elemental Plane of Lightning by expending an exponential amount of mana. Such a utility was why Dimension Door was a staple spell.

The two girls fell and reappeared on the unguarded floor of the theatre's lobby entrance some twenty metres from where they had teleported with a burst of pyrotechnical lightning.

"I am going to be sick." Mayuree suppressed a gag. Passengers who weren’t ready were often disorientated by the thrumming tinnitus in their ears and the vertigo of experiencing a dimensional jaunt.

Gwen quickly dragged the confused Diviner through to the lobby and toward the atrium. Once they were in the public domain, they would be safe from harassment. There was no possible way Mayuree's brother would dare cause a scene in the grand lobby of the Hyatt Regency.

The lobby contained her companions.

"Gwen!"

"Mia!"

Richard, Mina, Kitty, Tao and the three stooges were all waiting for them.

"Young Mistress! Ms Song!" Magus Yuu was there as well, looking decisively apologetic. "I am sorry, it was all I could do to prevent Master Marong from goading your friends to imperil themselves."

"Don't worry about it." Gwen waved him off. "Anyone behind us?"

Richard scanned the entrance to the theatre complex. "We're clear. I tried to Message you. Another minute and I was going to send Lea."

"I'll make your brother pay for this disrespect," Kitty growled vehemently beside Mayuree. Her usually cool and icy exterior was hot with agitation. "I knew it was a mistake to leave you alone. Are you okay, Mia?"

"I am fine." Mayuree stared at Gwen with eyes full of admiration. "I had Gwen with me. I can't believe we got away, just like that."

"Erm…" Gwen fixed her messy hair. "How do you usually deal with that asshat?"

"Through inhuman feats of endurance," Mayuree said miserably. "I usually sense him coming long before he's close. I can avoid him nine times out of ten."

"Why not this time?" Gwen scanned their surroundings as well.

"I don't rightly know." Mayuree curled her perfectly pink lips. "Divination is not an exact Spellcraft. At any rate, thank you for the prompt delivery from the presence of my pompous brother."

"I hope that wasn't the life-saving moment you’d predicted," Gwen joked.

"No, but please consider the debt of the crystal paid." Mayuree was too generous by half. "You don't know how happy it makes me that we eluded that encounter, especially with your help."

"Debt paid? That's too much," Gwen protested. "That was a costly bid."

"Please?" Mayuree pleaded. Gwen could see the desire for redemption plastered all over her face. "I'll be candid with you; I had the crystal retrieved from our private collection, so that wasn't the one that was sold. I’m not spending seven thousand HDMs, more like four thousand."

"Alright, alright," Gwen was impressed that Mayuree had a core to spare after all that. She knew she was taking advantage of the girl's desperate circumstance, but she wasn't one to look a gift horse in the mouth. "I'll accept it."

"If you're quite done, Gwen, let's get out of here first." Mina eyed the theatre anxiously.

"Let's get on a move on, then," Gwen announced to the gathered group. "We should find somewhere to eat and re-introduce ourselves. Mia and I are renewing our friendship. We're getting to know one another from square one. My shout."

"Sir?"

One of the white-suited guards dispelled his shield. Had it not been for Marong’s command to hold their positions, they would have retrieved the girls within a few breaths.

Inside the private box, the smell of ozone hung heavily in the air, together with an electrifying feeling of static that set their hair on end.

"Sir," the guard said. "Shall we invite the young ladies more persuasively?"

"No," Marong replied in a haze of smoke, his voice possessing more amusement than anger. "Have some tact, Ang. This is why you're still single."

Ang smiled awkwardly.

The smouldering fumes surrounding Marong parted as though stirred by a soft, unseen breeze. When the Flashbang had hit, a portion of it had congealed as if moved by a supernatural will, shielding him from the brunt of the blinding flash, as well as muffling the thunderclap.

"What an interesting girl." Marong toked on his thin-white cigarette, allowing two jet streams of smoke to join the perpetual haze which lingered in the air. A few sparks fell as he tapped the hand-rolled tobacco with his forefinger, sending a few amber embers to take flight. "Hyun, find out who she is."

"Of course, Master Marong," a second guard acknowledged Marong's command.

"Do it quietly, man. We don't want to frighten the poor girl."

With the practised ease of a seasoned smoker, Marong allowed a mote of flame to touch his cigarette. A speck of brilliant fire flared, snuffing the stub expertly. The remaining length disappeared into a storage ring adorned with an elaborate geometry of precious gems.

Marong was glad he’d come to oversee the monotonous auction. How else was he going to catch his sister giving a ten thousand HDM core to some stranger? The one she'd gifted hadn’t even been the one on display. That had been the female heart. Her sister had given the buck's heart.

If so, then who was this Gwen? And why was his sister so zealously attached?

Marong chuckled. Whoever she might be, he was confident the girl would prove far more entertaining than Dai Fung had described.

Chapter seven

Preparatory

On Mayuree's advice, they chose to stay rather than leave, betting that the Hyatt offered far more protection than an oyster-shell restaurant somewhere. The group loitered in the lobby until they met Mayuree's brother exiting the theatre. To Gwen’s surprise, the offending sibling's parting gesture was a greeting and a farewell, which her party failed to reciprocate.

When the convoy of dark sedans finally departed, she explained her newfound rapport with Mayuree.

Richard cared little, informing Gwen he'd be alright with whatever decision she made.

Mina politely said nothing, likely because she was well-mannered and knew when to say nothing at all.

Tao loudly proclaimed he would treat Mayuree as one of the "crew" should Gwen desire, even allowing her to participate in his projects.

Kitty, Mayuree's faithful companion, rejected any desire to join a crew that Tao Wang was a part of but conceded that Gwen and Mayuree necessarily benefited from each other's company.

"See you later, Mia." Gwen gave Mayuree a friendly hug, and then the Song crew went on their way.

"You sure you know what you're doing?" Mina asked Gwen as their sedan pulled onto the orbital highway. Despite Gwen's assurance, her cousin seemed uncertain about Gwen's decision. Still, Gwen found it hard to repudiate having access to a network of Mages willing to trade rare ingredients for non-CC based currency and vice-versa.

"I would still be cautious. That brother of hers looks like trouble from his slicked hair down to his Oxfords," Mina said, wagging a disapproving finger. "Still, who'd thought, huh? Little Mayuree connected to the mysterious House of M. Did she say third in line? She was quiet as anything back in school. She was socially illiterate then and continues to be now. Red Stars, if I wanted to be your friend, Gwen, we'd be arm-in-arm by the second cocktail."

"Mia's an alright sort, isn't she?" Gwen chuckled. "Now that brother of hers, he looks like a character."

"I too, am interested in this Marong," Richard spoke beside them. "Were it not for Magus Yuu and the circumstances of the hotel, I would have loved to meet him in person."

"You'll get us all arrested if your ‘meeting’ is what I think it is," Mina said. "Never pick a fight in a place that has more staff than guests."

"Sometimes a meeting is just a meeting," Richard spoke without expression.

"Whatever the case, thank you, Richard," Gwen replied warmly. "We were fine. Marong didn't even lay a hand on us. I think the brother was just curious as to why his sister was so interested in me."

"You said he was going to make you both stay." Mina pointed out. "That sounds plenty dangerous to me."

"Only if you say it like that," Gwen replied. "I mean, if some Mage suddenly had your sister tied around his or her fingers, I'd be worried too."

"About that, what happened between you and Mayuree? Surely you did more than just kiss and make up." Richard said.

"I'll tell you what I can," Gwen said after a moment of contemplation. With considerations for privacy and disclosure, she carefully illustrated Mayuree's panicked self-diagnosis to her companions.

"See? That's why you stay away from fortunes," Mina pointed out triumphantly. "Divinations is nothing but trouble."

"Now that's interesting." Richard nodded. "On the other hand, what of Ariel? What did our penultimate winner attain?"

"I don't know." She had no intention of testing out her Familiar in the car. She couldn't, at any rate; Ariel appeared dormant. "Also, does anyone know what an Eland is?"

"It's a huge goat," Tao said, surprising Gwen. "Huge mofo with twisted horns and stripes. Enormous cock, used in medicine."

"A goat." Gwen dispelled the prospect of Ariel growing a colossal dong from her mind. Did that mean Ariel would grow larger? How could she share a pillow with an antelope-sized Ariel? What if its new horns snagged her clothes? Maybe she could ride it. Gwen tried to imagine herself riding a lightning-wreathed billy goat into battle, finding the illustrated fantasy rather more heavy metal than she'd hoped.

"What's the marten doing now?" Mina asked.

"Asleep." Gwen checked her pocket dimension. "Indigestion, perhaps? Richard, you're the Conjurer supreme here. What do you think will happen?"

Richard's self-satisfied expression told Gwen that she’d come to the right guy. "Well, academically, when a lesser Elemental consumes a greater Elemental's core, it takes on some of its power and characteristics. Although the phenomenon isn't familiar to us, Mages stationed in the Wildlands report that this isn't unusual. Some breeds such as Draconids specialise in consuming others of their kind. As for Ariel, I can only speak from experience."

"Go on." Gwen was all ears.

"Before I found Lea, or should I say, Lea found me, my Familiar was a Monotreme Platypus."

"Puahaha!" Gwen riotously snorted while Mina looked on with incomprehension. The vision of Richard standing as cool as a cucumber, looking as stoic as a glacier while accompanied by a waddling platypus was too much for her overtired mind to handle. Maybe the creature even held its head and suffered from a constant headache.

"What in Mao's Army is a platypus?" Mina asked.

"Lea, if you please," Richard requested his Undine Familiar.

A transparent model of a bird-billed beaver quickly formed, possessing the head of a duck, the body of a seal, webbed feet, scales on its lower back, and a waddling paddle for a tail. To Gwen, it was as though the Creator had taken all the spare parts of animals he’d had leftover and then said, "Fuck it, I break on Sundays."

"Isn't that a dobhar-chú?" Mina beamed. "An Australian dobhar-chú? Those are incredibly powerful."

"The platypus is a water elemental in the semblance of local fauna," Richard said. "A native creature of the estuaries and rivers of New South Wales. A noble member of the local legends."

"Hahaha." Gwen was beside herself with tears. "I can't believe your spirit animal is a platypus!" It suited Richard perfectly. She had never been able to make head or tail of her cousin, his incredible competence, his hot and cold demeanour, his abrasive social behaviour and stoic charm. The uniqueness of a platypus was an apt metaphor.

"Anyway," Richard continued, ignoring Gwen. "I managed to win the core of a lesser sea dragon in a bet. No, not a real one—it’s a seahorse, a pseudo-dragon at best, and then my Platypus became like this…"

The model changed until they saw a strange chimaera creature covered from head to tail in scales. It had the look of an aquatic pseudo-dragon—a form of water fey—only it wore a duck's bill and a paddle tail.

"Oh, gods!" Gwen fanned herself with her fingers. "A pseudo-platypus. Oh, Richard, you should have stuck to the original form."

"I think it looks very handsome." Mina glared at her cousin with critical disapproval of her sudden hysterics.

Gwen quickly checked her offensive merriment, but another glance at the duckbilled dragon beaver sent her into a second fit of belly-aching laughter.

The watery construct faded, replaced by Lea's scandalous torso, wet and shimmering with beaded water as her upper body materialised. Her gemstone eyes regarded Gwen with curiosity.

"Gwen?" Lea asked quizzically. "Are you in pain?"

"Sorry, sorry!" Gwen finally pulled herself together. She extended a hand toward the Water Sprite.

"Here, a reward for that lovely blast from the past."

Straining her mana conduits, she congealed a mote of Almudj's mana on her fingers. Lea eagerly took it in her mouth with a delightful moan. Beside them, Mina's lip fell half-open with wordless scandal. Tao's eyes opened so wide they glowed. Richard chuckled.

Gwen retrieved her finger, realising only then what Tao and Mina would think of her nonchalant feeding. It was something she had done for Sufina and Lea many times, though the process must seem strange to her cousins.

Time to change the topic, Gwen thought tactically. Whatever Richard's opinion, the platypus drake needed to make another appearance.

Klavdiya was waiting for them when they arrived. "How were the exams? Did you have fun at the auction?"

"I think we both went well, Babulya." Gwen ran in to embrace her. "And yes, it was fun."

Once her party had settled in, Gwen told her what had transpired, what she’d written, what had gone wrong with Caliban and what she’d told the interviewers, hiding nothing from her family. She furthermore added the encounter with Mayuree, her decision to befriend the Diviner, and her confrontation with the brother.

Encouragingly, babulya told her to pay the brother no mind. Furthermore, her grandmother stated that the House of M was a merchant family tied to a foreign Clan. "An overseas tiger they might be, they would not dare to pull the whiskers of the local dragon known as the PLA."

Klavdiya's confidence made Gwen feel immensely comforted in knowing that Marong couldn't just spirit her away.

Richard then repeated his side of the tale without as much flair.

"Mao above, that's terrible!" Mina paled when Richard outlined his Centaur strategy.

"Stone cold!" Tao shivered so much that he had to repeat his overly fond expression. "Stone cold, bro!"

Gwen measured her cousin's strategy against her own. She was reminded of a particular string of retaliation following the 1972 Munich Olympics. Or perhaps the Russian operations during the Nord-Ost siege, both of which were an eye for an eye.

Though he might be a little extreme, Richard was a man born at the right time, in the right place.

"I can guess how well that's going over with Liwen and Gillian," their babulya mused. "James probably swallowed his tongue when you proposed the hoof collection."

"Alas, it's out of my hands now." Richard remained unflappable.

"At any rate, well done," Babulya said to both of them. "I am confident that both of you will pass muster magnificently."

"Thanks, Babulya. What do you think we should do for the intervening month?" Gwen asked. For now, at least, all her labours seemed at an end. More importantly, was there some way they could pay back her grandmother for her tireless efforts? "Babulya, is there anything we can do for you?"

"Now, now, you just rest." Babulya patted her shoulder reassuringly. "As for doing something, I do have someone I'd like you to meet tomorrow. Someone who will need your help and will be of immense help to you."

Gwen wanted to ask who, but her babulya insisted they proceed straight to bed.

"Where's Percy?" Gwen asked. Her brother had not come out to greet her.

"Percy is asleep already. His training is taking its toll," Klavdiya informed her. "Your brother's fine, don't you worry. Guo will let nothing but good things happen to his boy."

"His boy." Gwen allowed the word to roll over her tongue, wondering what her mother would think about that. As for Helena, a visit should be in the works once the Fudan ordeal was settled. Though she wanted as little to do with the woman as possible, Helena was still her mother. It would ease Gwen's mind knowing that she was living a life of material comfort, if nothing else.

In the middle of her thoughts, Tao and Mina bid them goodnight. Before she left, Mina left the additional three thousand HDMs with Gwen.

"You'll likely need it." Mina tapped the triple-stack of one thousand HDM cards left in her cousin's hand. "Don't worry, if there's one thing the Wangs aren't short on, it’s crystals. Let me know if you have trouble finding a place to stay. Dad owns a few apartments not too far from Fudan."

Gwen hugged her cousins as they left, with Tao promising he'd show Gwen his latest project soon.

"Go to sleep," her grandmother henpecked the children. "Why are you still up? It's almost eleven!"

Thus bathed in the strange joy of knowing someone gave a shit about her health, Gwen washed up and slipped into bed, wondering what the following day would bring, pondering on the prosperities gifted by Mayuree's prophetic vision.

Gwen woke with a start when someone pressed a finger against her temple.

"For shame, Gwen," her babulya said critically. "You should be training from seven am. Meditating, not sleeping until ten."

"I feel so tired," Gwen murmured, exhausted even after almost ten hours of sleep. She figured that the consumption performed by Caliban's unbidden new form was likely the culprit. The weariness of the Void was one that no sleep could replenish. Only higher concentrations of Almudj's mana could help, but even so, she was always short on that precious resource. She would have to find an alchemist to work her remaining two Fructum Vitaes, but that would be a future endeavour. Assuming Mayuree was genuine about her offer, she could probably afford a few more favours from the House of M.

"Up! Up!" Babulya peeled back Gwen's blankets, expelling the cosy interior. "You'll be late. Richard's already gone on his errand."

"Aieee!" Gwen clutched her small clothes against her shivering white figure, yelping at the sudden chill. She stumbled from her bed and found a pair of shorts and a tee shirt left by the bedside. A discovered scrunchie helped her tie her frizzled hair into a ponytail. "What are we late for, Babulya?"

"Your tutor. Seeing as you're woefully underprepared for university-level theory, I've asked someone to help you out. There’s a cost to your private tuition. however—your teacher wants to see your Void Magic."

Gwen furrowed her brows. She trusted her babulya implicitly, but was it wise to flaunt her magic so openly? Put it on such a public display?

"I know what you're worried about," Klavdiya said. "Worry not; it's someone we can trust."

"Okay." Gwen left the bedroom to wash her face. "What should I wear?"

"Whatever you like, dear," Klavdiya replied. "It's at the university. Be fashionable like the other kids, but don't show too much skin. You'll catch a cold."

"Alright." Gwen studied herself in the mirror as she brushed and rinsed. Her complexion had lost its supernatural lustre. The tender, moisturised paleness prized by her Asian counterparts had taken on a sickly pallor. It was evident that she had been far too liberal with Caliban, as well as her Void capabilities. If the future allowed, she would have to experiment with long-term abstinence from her Void powers to see if Almudj's life force could help her ping-pong back to good health.

As for now, she had to worry about her attire. Late April in Shanghai meant the city suffered from high humidity and intermittent heat waves, made worse by the pollution of magical smog that trapped the heat under a thick blanket of mana particles.

Unlike the industrial part of the city, Fudan was a cosmopolitan university with an upper-class population of young men and women, which made it a mecca for adventurous and experimental fashion. The male students usually wore mute-coloured jackets in maroon, white or olive over loud shirts with flared collars. For pants, ankle-length chinos and skinny jeans were ubiquitous, for the Chinese had slim builds that disfavoured the heavy cotton or straight denim so popular in Australia.

The girls were far more grandiloquent and varied in their attire, with everything from flared, tapered, loose, tight, mid-riff blouses to shirts, tees and tops, matched with skirts of all lengths, though the preference in spring was for high-waisted shorts and mini dresses.

A dozen combinations flashed across Gwen's mind as she dug through her wardrobe and found a loose-hanging antique white collared blouse to go with a buttoned blue skirt.

The look was clean, fresh and breezy enough for spring, and it was sufficiently non-scandalous for her grandmother to approve with a nod.

"Ah, if only I were younger," Klavdiya mused tenderly.

"Oh, Babulya, you've plenty of youth in you yet. I'll be more than happy to dress you if you like," Gwen gushed, hugging her grandmother tightly. "We can go shopping, just the two of us. It'll be fun."

"Of course, when we're both free," her babulya replied with a smile. "You know, I can't remember the last time I was in a clothing mall. They must be gigantic by now."

"More than you know," Gwen teased. "The shop assistants would think you're my mother."

Babulya laughed. No woman wouldn't want to be seen younger, not to mention that Klavdiya had the natural blessing of being a healer. Gwen was serious, however. If her babulya dressed the part and discarded her love of militant olive, she wouldn’t look a day over forty. It was the blessing of the Healers, Gwen supposed. Strangely. she also found comfort that her angelic Evee would be laughing well into her fifties while she became sans perkiness, sans moisture and aged into a prune.

"Alright, enough wasting of time. We need to go." Klavdiya said. "Go get a bite to eat. We leave in thirty minutes, no more delays."

"Yes, ma'am."

Breakfast in the Song household was long over. Gwen went to the kitchen, seized several buns left from the morning, then washed the lot with cold milk. She then swung by the main house to see if Percy was in, but the boy was gone, along with Guo. Feeling miffed that she'd missed her brother yet again, Gwen found her grandmother waiting outside by the gate and announced herself ready to depart.

"Where's Richard gone?" she asked as the car moved out from the Song compound.

"I've sent him to see a few old contacts, get him acquainted," Klavdiya replied. "Worry not. That boy's far more capable of taking care of himself than you."

Laughing, Gwen took the injurious indignity to her pride in her stride, turning instead to strap on her Message device, which she'd promised Richard she'd wear at all times should they be parted.

The chauffeur took the family across the second orbital highway and onto the third before reaching the campus grounds, eventually parking in front of a salmon-on-white building with an architectural facade taken straight from the 1930s. At its entrance, two mock-Roman pillars held up six floors of brick and mortar, with two wings splitting north and south.

Gwen stepped from the vehicle and moved to aid her grandmother, who took her hand and lifted herself from the soft cushions.

"Where are we?"

"Henglong Research Building," her grandmother informed her. "Come."

Gwen followed until they were inside. "No levitation platforms?" She looked around the dated interior.

"It's an old structure." Her babulya chuckled. "Over here, I remember it well. I used to study here, on the top floor."

They proceeded down the north wing until stairwells took them to the sixth floor. Gwen's grandmother proved spritely for a woman of advanced age, which she again attributed to her babulya's Affinity with Positive Energy. Gwen wondered if her Void channels aged her body or if Negative Energy Mages were incidentally short-lived. Unhappily, she recalled that Elizabeth Sobel was almost sixty, yet her Master's murderer had not looked a day past her twenties.

"We're here." Her babulya knocked on a set of paint-peeled double doors.

"Gwen! Babulya!"

The voice that greeted them was music to Gwen's ears. "Petra!" Gwen embraced her cousin.

The girls parted after an informal cheek-to-cheek, with Gwen stepping back to examine her talented older relative.

As usual, Petra looked effortlessly stunning, her naturally voluminous lashes framing her sky-blue eyes in a way that made them the most striking features on her sculpted face. More impressively, despite winning nature's genetic lottery, Petra wore a set of baggy lab overalls, what looked to be rubber boots, and had her hair loosely coiled in a bun hidden underneath the transparent film of a hairnet.

"Don't you look nice?" Petra spun and twirled Gwen around, taking in her ensemble.

"Thanks, Pats."

Perhaps stimulated by Gwen's juxtaposing chosen attire, Petra quickly changed the subject and invited them in, undoing her cap as they entered, allowing her hair to cascade like an auburn waterfall.

"Is Marie in?" Klavdiya stepped through the threshold and looked around the corner, where a lab chock full of magical experiments rested in organised chaos. "She should be expecting us."

"Master got delayed, but she'll be back in a few hours," Petra replied. "Come in, come in. I've cleared a space."

Inside, the three found themselves in a private area of the laboratory safely segregated from the main working area.

"So." Her babulya turned to Gwen. "Meet your new tutor."

"That's right." Petra laughed at Gwen's stunned expression. "I'll be your tutor from Tartarus."

"More like I’m your student from the seven circles." Gwen shook her cousin's hand. "Thanks, Pats. I know you're awful busy."

"It's nothing. I wanted to do it. I wouldn't trust anyone else." Petra cooed at her. "Master wanted to speak to you as well, but we can start first. I want a full rundown of your curriculum and what you completed at your Frontier school."

"You two have fun." Satisfied, her Babulya announced her departure. "And as Marie is busy, I’m going to see some familiar faces and catch up with some old friends. I'll swing by later. Message me if she's back before dinner."

"Thank you, Babulya," Gwen said. "I'll be sure to absorb everything Petra teaches like a sponge."

"I’m counting on it." Her cousin straightened herself, then abruptly materialised textbooks, pencils, and a set of data slates across the table. There was even a tea warmer and a mug set. "Alright, let's begin."

After questioning Gwen about her past, Petra started chewing on her pencil, indenting the wood with punctuated teeth marks. "How are you even casting tier four spells? You don't even know Gainsburrow's four-tier algorithm for hectogram formation!"

"My Master taught me through the Cognisance Chamber," Gwen confessed nostalgically. "I followed his instruction directly."

"Your Master—" Her cousin’s face was full of longing. "—Magister Henry Kaine Foster Kilroy."

"The very one." Gwen felt her chest constrict every time she thought about Henry and Sufina, who for a year had treated her like their closest family—dispensing advice, resource, compassion, and comfort with absolute liberty.

But now her captain lay cold and dead in the Grot, his Dryad companion the guardian of his mausoleum, growing more alien with every passing anniversary.

"You realise Magister Kilroy is one of the founders of the original Tower system in the 1970s, don't you?" Petra tapped her pen against the slate. "He's not an active member, but by God, a founding member of the Towers. A legend. Deathless Henry! Oh, to think I could have met the man in the flesh."

"How I wish you could." Gwen swallowed the taste of iron filling her mouth, feeling her throat constrict involuntarily.

"Sorry." Petra reached over the desk and touched her hand.

"I’m okay." Gwen pressed the welling emotions back down the rabbit hole of her memory. "I know who murdered him. Me, Gunther and Alesia, we all know. We'll be getting our satisfaction one day. Until then, it'll be something that drives me. It's my strength."

When Petra pursued the matter out of curiosity, Gwen told her roughly what had transpired.

"Wow, to think that Elizabeth Sobel was alive," Petra clicked her tongue. "By St Augustine, what a mess. I am sorry you had to experience all of that. Do you need a minute?"

Gwen shook her head. "No, I’m alright."

"It's okay if—"

"I’m fine, Pats. Thanks."

"Okay, back to your Spellcraft." Petra took up the slate again. "I'll be honest with you, it's horrible. Your theory is all over the place. The content they’re teaching you in the Frontier is half full of shit and conjecture. Your curriculum is lagging by a decade."

"But—"

"Which is why, I am assuming, your Master taught you himself through the Cognisance Chamber. His algorithms are perfect, simplified. Your Dimension Door manifests at half the time it takes for the textbook version. Your initial Summon Familiar costs virtually no mana. Your Evocation spells are probably your weakest link. Compared to your Conjuration, they're all over the place. Some of the core ones, like Lightning Bolt, use signature incantations from Alesia de Botton. Your regular spells, like Magic Missile, are self-taught, while spells like Lightning Whip or Lighting Blast hardly synergise with your existing repertoire of Spellcraft theory."

"Damn."

"You and I are going to have a busy month ahead of us. I shall speak to your advisor when you eventually get one. I recommend we work towards Conjuration as your major and Evocation as support, while working on specific spells from Transmutation and Divination. As for your minor, I suggest holding off on that until you specialise in the second year."

"What about Abjuration?"

"You'll choke if you try to eat too many dumplings at once," Petra advised. "Work on your shields, but the upper branches of Abjuration, like Dispel, Remove Enchantment, wards and protections are whole worlds unto themselves. How many lifetimes do you want to dedicate to this, anyway? I have a spell that takes away the need to sleep, but you'll be in hysterics within the week."

"Well, Pats," Gwen made a mock gesture to offer her body, "I am in your capable hands."

"At my mercy, you mean." Her cousin chuckled. "Jokes aside, I am going to have to drill you like a conscripted farmer just joining the Long March."

Gwen sipped her tea miserably. She’d had no idea her Spellcraft theory was nincompoop in comparison. If so, the loss of her Master was more significant than she’d first anticipated.

"Anyway," Petra continued, "Conjuration 1001, Bestiary and Care of Familiars FAM102, plus Supplementary Conjuration as your mainstay. Evocation 1001 and Advanced Spell-shaping ASP101 as support, that makes five. Individual spells… I'll sort out something with Babulya, which means you have one more course of your choice and two general courses."

"I was thinking Economics and Management, for you know… reasons." Gwen couldn't explain that she was probably more knowledgeable than her tutors, albeit that she lacked context.

"What about your final Spellcraft course?"

"Are there any more Conjuration courses I could take?" Gwen enquired. "I need to get a hold of Caliban before its leash becomes too short for either of us."

Petra shook her head. "That's a miscalculation on your part, I am afraid. This isn't a time-sink issue. You can't just power up a School of Magic. One becomes more proficient over time, becoming aware of the complexities of the sigil, stacking exponentially into more powerful invocations and incantations. By the time you exceed tier six, you’ll need a knowledge of mandalas and glyphs to assist in non-localised castings. Do you recall the motto in the exam hall? 'There exist no shortcuts on the winding path of Spellcraft; there is no shore when sailing upon the seas of arcane knowledge.'"

"How can I raise my Conjuration to tier five as soon as possible?" Gwen asked. "It's urgent. I can't temper Caliban if I can't trust my ability to set its boundaries."

"According to Babulya, you're sitting on 4.05 on the inference scale, so I'll be candid."

"Okay."

"Assuming you're the top 0.1% of individuals gifted for Conjuration, it'll take you a year."

"A year!" Gwen spluttered. "But I went from one to four in twelve months!"

"Well, now our genius is at a bottleneck," Petra said with an expansive wave of her hands. "You need more than just a knowledge of spells to weave more complex incantations. You need to understand planar theory and elemental-energy theorems. You need to study the Void and brush up on your Quasi-Elemental Lightning Affinity. There’s no way we’re going to finish in a month. For now, we'll be seeing each other for the entirety of your first year. Both me and my Master are going to take turns getting you up-to-date with Advanced Spellcraft."

"Oh." The books in front of her made Gwen feel like she was staring into an abyss.

"Chin up." Petra touched her chin and lifted her despairing face. "Don't worry. I'll make a Mage out of you yet."

Chapter eight

Fault Lines

By the late afternoon, Magister Roslyn-Marie Wen returned. Petra ceased her delivery of Gwen's bridging course and moved to aid her Master in rearranging newly arrived magical materials in the central laboratory.

Gwen moved to help, although all she could do was watch.

In the aftermath, Magister Wen turned to Gwen with the same curiosity of a scholar examining a rare and unusual specimen. "So you're Gwen Song." The bookish Magister shook Gwen's hand with cold, skeletal fingers.

"It's good to meet you, ma'am." Gwen bowed. "Petra has had nothing but praise for your expertise and your care."

"She's an able student." Wen glanced at Petra with amusement, drawing a rare blush from the laconic Mineral Mage. "Though I did not know she was also a flatterer."

Gwen nodded, reading from Wen that the scholar was likely not built for humour.

"At any rate, we're not big on formality here. Just call me Wen, no need for Mage titles."

"Thank you, Ms Wen." Gwen curtsied expertly, taking on the offer of intimacy but maintaining a respectful distance.

To her eyes, Magister Marie-Roslyn Wen appeared a bookish Enchanter-Transmuter who, like Petra, had a rare affiliation with the Quasi-Elemental Plane of Mineral. She was ethnically Chinese, but her Affinity with the mineral arts had tinted her once dark eyes with the likeness of clear crystals, giving her classically Han facial structure an alien appearance. Starkly, the Magister stood a head shorter than Petra, accentuated with a slight stoop to her spine in a rigid, compact body.

According to her introduction, Wen was also an expatriated scholar, having grown up in London as a child, and then arrived in her "home" country to teach, hoping to return to London with enough clout to work at Cambridge or Oxford.

When the polite small talk had ceased, the trio sat down to some tea, with Magister Wen combing over Gwen's file with an expression of delight.

"Klavdiya's right. Your cousin appears as four acolytes crammed into one," Wen mused as she scrutinised the thickly annotated bundle of Gwen's admission papers. "Petra has her work cut out for her. Did your grandmother explain the cost of your tuition?"

"Yes," Gwen replied. "You want to study my Void Element?"

"'We wish to, dear. Petra and I, and you as well, I'd imagine." Wen sipped her camomile gingerly. "You are not averse to exercising your Affinity, I presume?"

"No, it'll be my pleasure to assist you, ma'am," Gwen said demurely, choosing a display of modesty. "As long as my health can keep up."

"Good, although no one ever said the academics was easy." Wen's assurance was ambiguous. "Of course, we shall endeavour to err on the side of your preservation and safety. Numbers aside, I’m interested in how Void manifests in consuming Affinity. The fact that you're well-versed in Conjuration, Evocation, Transmutation and Abjuration makes this beyond perfect. Say, you're not interested in taking on some Enchanting, are you?"

"Not at the moment, Ms Wen." Gwen felt a tingle of premonition tickling the base of her spine. If she were to covet the talent, it would mean feeding Caliban an Enchanter. She had no desire to become another Elizabeth Sobel.

The trio took their time having tea until Petra professed that she had to return to her laboratory work. Knowing that she’d overstayed her welcome, Gwen bid the two Mineral Enchanters goodbye with the promise of daily lessons and the satisfaction of Wen's curiosity.

The moment she exited the labs, she ran almost head-first into a young man who looked to be in his twenties, holding a bouquet of springtime flowers in the corridor.

"Is Ms Kuznetsova in?" The young man asked nervously, his eyes widening with panic as his gaze fell upon Gwen. "Oh, S-sorry! My name is Baili. Has her lab work finished for the day?"

"Pats," Gwen called out into the lab, her mouth grinning broadly. "You have an admirer here."

"Admirer?" Baili looked stunned. "I suppose… yeah. That's it exactly. I am an ardent admirer."

Petra came stomping from the lab in her white coat, her face more annoyed than happy.

Oh no. Gwen winced.

Her cousin confronted the young man, who was quaking in the girls' presence. "Bai, I told you."

"Petra…"

"No. I don't date."

"But I’m just an admirer." Baili seemed to relish the new moniker he'd acquired. "Please accept this gift. That's all I desire. From your admirer."

Petra reached out and plucked the bouquet from Baili's hands. The vibrant flowers passed under her nose. She regarded the flowers coldly, her eyes as hard as the crystals that made up her element.

And there it is. Gwen winced again.

A second later, Petra pulled her face away from Baili's gift with a look of annoyance.

"Are the flowers not to your liking?" Baili gulped. "I can get more expensive ones."

With a thump that might as well have left a trail of blood on the wall, Petra threw the bouquet against the top of an open bin in the corridor. The flowers lingered for a moment, then slid home into the darkness. "Don't bother me again," her cousin stated coldly before turning to Gwen. "Gwen, check your Message device. Babs said that she's organising a banquet tonight and has invited everyone. She's gone home to prepare. I'll meet you here at 1800, and we'll go together."

"Okay, thanks, Pats. Is Babulya not meeting your Master?"

"They'll catch up later, likely to discuss you."

Nodding, Gwen checked her Message device. Sure enough, a recording had just come through.

"See you in a few hours," Petra said to Gwen. "Don't interrupt me with trivial stuff like this next time."

Petra closed the door as though her admirer was naught but air. Gwen breathed out and turned to regard the stricken Baili. Ah, she waxed sentimentally, the sorrows of youth and love, won and lost.

"I should go." Baili looked as though someone had pulled out his spine and beat him bloody with it. "Goodbye."

Gwen followed the young man as he descended the stairs with a Prufrockian air. She felt such sympathy for the love-struck fellow while feeling nostalgic for the university life she’d once had. Unlike her horrid high school days, Sydney U had been a highlight. On its ancient campus she had made friends, attended classes with the best and the brightest, partied hard and studied harder. She’d found her earliest taste of love there as well, meeting a bevvy of admirers ranging from adventurous to academic, lads to lasses.

But those halcyon days were now as far away as a dream. Sometimes, Gwen began to wonder if her old life was just that—a pleasant, midsummer night fantasy.

It was crazy to think that now, in her new life, her five-year plan involved the best way to approach the cold-blooded execution of her Master's ex-wife, carefully coordinated with a thirty-something woman who summoned meteors from the sky and a man who was the avatar of the sun god, Apollo.

And yet, things could have been worse.

Feeling great sympathy for the young man, Gwen tapped the stranger on the shoulder.

"Yes?" the man turned to her with swollen, reddened eyes.

"Say, wanna grab a coffee?" Gwen smiled at the young man, blinding him with her dazzling teeth. "I want you to tell me all about Petra."

"…and that's about all I have to say," Gwen concluded her sagacious advice to Baili. "’Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all,' she told him, a point the man appeared to take to heart.

Since the man was kind enough to shout her dessert, she had used the temporary companionship to glean information about Petra's social life and life on campus in general.

According to Baili, Petra had been the top belle of the school since she’d arrived two years ago. Her looks, her talent and her unique magic all caught the attention of the university's student committee, who wanted her as a poster child for promoting Fudan. Unsurprisingly, Petra had refused, citing her work at the laboratory, though her opinion did not prevent her from becoming the unbidden prize of many manly duels.

With her curiosity satisfied, Gwen asked Baili about the university, begging for insight into the student body of Fudan.

"Ah, there are many dangers in socialising improperly," the man explained with patience.

According to her new friend, the Little Gong-zi, or Gong-zhu, were the privileged "young masters" of Clans and notable houses, typically equipped with an entourage of lackeys. These pupils often knew one another from Clan gatherings outside the university, forming cliques based on their sects. Of the men she had beaten up, Frederick Lin, Tao's nemesis, was one of these.

An equally dangerous group was the Guan-er-dai, more accurately known by the officious moniker of the Political Progeny—descendants of officials in the PLA. These men and women, typically sons and daughters of the officials who ruled Shanghai and its surrounding Frontiers, were afforded special privileges by their parents' power. Her old nemesis, Dai Fung, was one member of this austere group.

Finally, there was the Fu-er-dai, the Progenies of Prosperity, referring to the sons and daughters of influential business leaders, who were similarly afforded great opportunities. Comparatively, these were the most harmless. Tao and Mina belonged to this group, though they were wealthier and more influential than most.

Below the triad of the well-inherited, the politically advantaged and the resource-rich were the regular students like Baili.

"So long as you avoid these…" advised Baili, life on the campus should be incident-free. "…after all, they’re all ferrets of the same den, and we commoners are as hens for the plucking."

To Gwen's delight, Baili also volunteered his observations on the world outside Shanghai, speaking of his longing for a scenic holiday in the Frontier.

Gwen laughed uproariously when the man delivered his rose-tinted view of Oceania. She was just about to tell him of the milling millions of Mermen baying for human blood when a call came through on her Message device.

"Hello? Babulya? It's Gwen."

"Gwen, come back for dinner soon, did Petra tell you?"

"Okay. See you soon—sorry Baili, I have to go." Apologising, Gwen exchanged glyphs with the now-spirited young man and promised to deliver a good word with Petra, before setting off to find her cousin.

When they reunited at the bottom of Henglong Laboratory, Petra suggested they take public transport so that Gwen would know how to get home herself.

Perhaps influenced by Gwen's choice of attire, her cousin now sported a thin fleece and contoured pantaloons, all of which accentuated her height and slimness. Combined with her tall ponytail and military-issue boots, her cousin appeared intimidatingly attractive and aggressively eye-catching.

Was Petra good or bad at choosing her clothes? Gwen began to wonder if her cousin's appearance was intentional. After all, hadn’t she been trained for espionage at Moscow Tower?

Plum-blossom Village.

The Song Compound.

The banquet was set as before, with her grandfather presiding at the head of the twelve-strong table.

Clockwise from her babulya sat Jun, followed by her father, who'd returned from his mysterious "re-education", followed by Aunty Nen. Besides them, there was a new face next to Nen, whom she could only guess was Tao and Mina's father. beside him were his children. Uncomfortably for Gwen, Percy sat next to Guo, which meant she had to sit next to Percy, nearer to the head than she'd like.

"Dad." Gwen hailed her father, unsure if she should still be upset.

Morye looked to be in one piece but had taken on a dark tan. He also looked leaner and tighter, his body more sinuous and trained than she had ever seen in the past.

If Gwen recalled, her father had travelled to their ancestral village in Hebei. If so, the ancestors must have been harsh on her father, for there were visible wrinkles around his eyes and across his forehead.

"Gwen, your grandmother has told me all about your adventures. You've been a busy girl," he said, his tone no less casual than before.

"Well…" Gwen kept her voice level. They hadn't parted under the best of circumstances. To think that if it wasn't for him, she might be in Sydney still, training under Gunther and Alesia with her friends Yue and Elvia. But for his little escapade from the House of Song, her life had undergone an irreversible change. "You know how it is."

"It's good to see you looking strong."

"Thanks, Dad. How are you doing?"

"Ha!" her father glanced toward the head of the table, where Guo sat stoically. "I’m surviving."

Gwen allowed sympathetic feelings for Morye to manifest.

"Well, take care," said Morye. "I might be in Shanghai for a while. Let's have a coffee."

"Sure thing, Dad."

She turned her attention from her father toward Mina and Tao's father, her Uncle Wang. "Hello, Uncle. It's good to meet you finally."

"A pleasure to meet you as well, Gwen. Thank you for what you've done for my children," Tao's father replied with a face rich with appreciation.

"That's what family's for, sir," Gwen returned politely. The man's handshake was firm and robust as they exchanged the greeting. Gwen clasped his palm with confidence.

The Patriarch Wang laughed. "I hope that if there are opportunities, you will take care of these two rascals again."

"I shall, sir. Thank you for the gift."

"It was nothing. Call Mina if you need anything."

The two parted, watched by an uncertain Mina and an unblinking Tao.

Gwen hailed her cousins, then turned finally to Richard. "Dick, how was your day?"

"Fruitful, though I'll refrain from telling it for now." Richard gave her a wink.

Gwen agreed, for rare Wildland ingredients overflowed the table with their deliciousness.

"Before we begin, there's something I would like to announce." Her babulya stood from her place at the head of the table, her well-loved eyes surveying her closest family members.

She produced a letter embossed with the distinctive crest of Fudan University from her storage ring.

Gwen felt her breath catching as the familiar symbol appeared. Richard reached over and squeezed her hand underneath the table, which made Gwen realise how silly it was for her to freak. Her babulya had arranged a banquet. They were in public, in front of the whole family. It was cruel and unthinkable to deliver the news of her rejection under these circumstances.

Babulya slipped a piece of linen-like paper from the envelope and began to read. "Dear Gwen Song, congratulations on your full scholarship admission to Fudan University under the LCSS program! For nearly one hundred years, Fudan has proudly welcomed new Mages into its fold, and we are excited for you to be part of this great tradition. As a member of the cohort of 2003, you will join a dynamic Spellcraft community in a place of endless magical opportunities…"

The speech continued for a minute.

"Yours Sincerely, Luo Jiang, Dean.'"

"OH, MAO!" Tao let loose a cry of jubilation. "Cousin, you did it. Mao's balls. You did it!"

"That's wonderful news, Gwen." Mina walked over and hugged her tightly, pressing her cheeks to Gwen's astonished face.

"Congratulations." Richard and Petra gave her thumbs ups.

"I knew you could do it." Her babulya walked around the table and offered her the letter. "Dean Luo personally thanked me when I met with him. You should know," her grandmother continued, "he was ecstatic. To think that in calling in a favour, he now owes us more favours. Ha-ha."

A round of "woos" and "wows" resounded across the table, with Nen and her family clapping loudly.

"Tao, sit down." Patriarch Wang, Tao's father, slapped his son on the head before Guo could speak. "Why can't you be more like Gwen? She's from the Frontier and she's a hundred times more talented than you." He turned to Gwen. "Please continue to take care of my son. He's going to need it."

"Oh, it's nothing," Gwen replied. Turning away from Tao's father, she opened the letter delivered by her smiling babulya and scanned the first few lines. She then looked around the happy table but then stopped when she realised that at its head, Guo had grown expressionless and silent.

A part of her felt impossibly happy. It was finally here—her new beginning! She had finally taken a step into the Path her Master had planned.

But Percy's eyes flittered between his stoic grandfather and herself. Having spent enough time with Guo over the last two weeks, she knew that there was something her grandfather didn’t like but couldn't understand why Guo would be displeased at her admission into Fudan.

Nonetheless, despite Guo's disapproval, her lovely brother rose from his seat and joined the celebratory hug. "Congrats, sis." Percy's voice carried over a wealth of emotions.

"Thanks, champ." Gwen pulled her brother in and hugged him tightly. "You'll be in university soon as well. I look forward to seeing you there in two years."

"I’m sure it'll be awesome." Percy parted from his sister, then appeared lost for words. Behind the boy, his grandfather's eyes felt like a pair of spell wands with the crystal ends pointed at Gwen's face.

Finally, Gwen embraced Petra. "You knew."

"Of course, I knew." Petra chuckled. Her smiling eyes were twin pools of crystalline water. "Now, you’d better study twice as hard."

A gentle cough interrupted the girls' happiness.

"Good work," Morye said proudly before opening his arms.

Gwen hesitated before allowing her jubilation to overcome her prejudice, permitting herself to fall into the rare indulgence of her father's arms. Morye's arms wrapped around her shoulders and pulled her closer, squeezing her against his chest. Gwen smelled the familiar whiff of tobacco on his neck and something else, something floral, pleasing and feminine. Suddenly, Gwen didn't know whether to laugh or cry—even in re-education, her father somehow managed to snag a woman.

Gently, her father's lips rested close to her ear. "Your grandfather's up to something. Whatever it may be, keep your cool and give him what he wants. Mother will take care of you no matter what happens."

"What do you mean—" Gwen began.

"I am so proud!" Morye said loudly, enough for all to hear. "You make me very happy indeed."

The rest of the congratulations became static as Gwen stole glimpses at her grandfather. It was true. His throbbing temple veins had the look of a steam engine about to pop a gasket.

Klavdiya then turned to Richard and produced another letter.

"Richard, your turn," Gwen gushed.

"For Mr Richard Huang, a half-scholarship award from the Lim-Chanrol Student Scholarship prize!"

"Incredible!" Mina applauded and gave Richard a tippy-toed embrace.

"I’m happy for you." Petra shook Richard's hand.

"Aw, bro. You’re making me look bad," Tao said without reserve.

But if Richard was disappointed with only the half-prize, he didn’t show it. "Thank you, thank you," he said, making a respectful ninety-degree bow. "I am afforded this opportunity only because of you, Klavdiya. I am greatly in your debt."

He then turned to Gwen and likewise bowed. "You as well, Gwen. Thank you for allowing me to accompany you on your journey."

"Richard, it was all you. I had nothing to do with it. The true gem's lustre shines unbidden. You're the one who I should thank," Gwen replied, mindful that Guo was still silent.

Next, she bowed to her grandparents with all her feelings of gratefulness. "Thank you both. None of this would have been possible without you."

Her grandmother watched her and Richard with eyes full of selfless kindness.

"The food is getting cold." Guo's baritone voice cut through the air like a sledgehammer.

The celebratory air vanished as the patriarch stood. "Start eating," he commanded.

"Alright, alright, we can all celebrate later. Let's not waste the wonderful food the servants have spent hours on." Klavdiya urged them all to sit.

Gwen knew that Guo wasn't too thrilled with her grandmother's intervention in Richard and her affairs. Maybe the matter wasn't so bad? She also knew Guo wasn't one for hugs and kisses. In fact, her stoic and loyal patriarch detested all forms of emotional display.

The family returned to their seats and proceeded to work through the dozen or so dishes with polite chit-chat. The exotic game passed to and from the Lazy Susan, diminishing until only soups and sauces remained.

Finally, after an agonising hour, Guo stood at the head of the table. The rest of the family rested their spoons and chopsticks.

"Gwen, Percy, I need to speak to you. Come see me in my meeting room."

Without ceremony and with his usual laconicism, Guo left the room. Gwen met the eyes of her family and communicated an apology with her eyes before she too left the table as Percy nervously threw his napkin onto the chair for the servants to collect and followed Guo.

Klavdiya left her seat to escort Gwen. "I suspect I know what he wants." She seemed to have lost all of the joy she'd acquired since delivering the good news. Her grandmother's hand gripped Gwen's arm. "Gwen, whatever happens, it's not your fault. It's mine. I pushed for your admission to Fudan."

Gwen held her babulya's hand and looked across the courtyard, where the entrance of the meeting room stood like a gaping maw.

"It's alright," Gwen spoke with untainted compassion. Her mind might be a jumble, but she could never blame Klavdiya. "Even if I have to leave, the fault, dearest babulya, is not in ourselves, but the stars."

Chapter nine

The Great Divide

Guo’s private study was magically illuminated, though Klavidya approached an ominous gloom, the dim globes drawing deep shadows across the room, accentuating her husband’s passionless expression.

With a sinking feeling, Klavidya took her place beside her husband. When the stubborn man made a conciliatory gesture by moving a hand toward her, she stared at him starkly and placed her hands across her lap. Sighing, her husband retreated and focused on the two grandchildren standing before them.

Gwen and Percy presented themselves—the boy nervously so, the girl a little drunk from her new placement at Fudan.

A servant ventured carefully into the room and presented two jars of tea served in white-blue porcelain. Her husband took a sip, cupping one hand over the saucer while the other worked the loose leaves with the lid. Klavdiya performed likewise, awaiting Guo's verdict.

"Allow me to congratulate you on your acceptance into Fudan," Guo began, still not looking Gwen in the face. "Well done."

"Thank you, Grandfather," Hai's estranged daughter replied stiffly. Klavdiya felt a slim hope that perhaps Guo wanted to make up with Gwen, but there was no way her husband had separated her from the family just so that he could congratulate Gwen in private.

"I want to ask you a question, and I want you to respond earnestly," Guo continued.

"I shall, Grandfather."

"Gwen Song, daughter of Hai." Her husband's voice dropped an octave lower. It was the tone he used for interrogations. "What do you think of Percy inheriting the House of Song?"

"Guo!" Klavdiya felt her worst suspicions confirmed by the obtuse question. As an old married couple for almost four decades, Klavdiya knew her husband was a brooder and one whose fierce loyalty did not manifest in kindness. Always laconic, Guo never complained of hardship, and when he felt the need to act, he did so without regard for his wellbeing. It was a trait that had served him well the previous hound masters of the CCP, more so now as the Chairman of the Confidential Communications Committee.

By that same virtue, Guo loved her dearly, though he rarely made his love known. Unlike herself, Guo had been a Frontiersman, a first son who’d chosen to leave the sanctuary of his isolated village in Hebei. Klavdiya's erstwhile Clan of estranged white Russians had been dead set against her marriage to a farmer. Thankfully, Klavdiya had been no less hardheaded than Guo.

Then, during the bloody Sino War, the PLA had won sweeping victories across China, allowing the couple to catch the crest of that rising power. In the aftermath, they’d built something from nothing, creating a House of Song despite the humble origins of Guo's lost, ancient Clan in the wilderness.

Then, the troubles began.

When Hai had disappeared, Guo's grief had turned to bitterness. Later, when they’d realised the corpse was not their firstborn son, but some doppelgänger he had used to escape, her husband had become tyrannical and uncontrollable. It was as though something had broken inside the uncomplicated man she’d once known, and the kind soldier slowly grew to his present, twisted self.

A decade and a failed marriage later, they received the news that Jun was sterile. As talented as her son was, his rare Affinity had exacted a terrible cost on his body, one that could not be healed. They had even consulted the Magi of the PLA, Grand Marshall Sun, and the god-like man had informed them that a Greater Wish might suffice. It was an answer, but a wishful one.

With a near-madness in his eyes, Guo had professed that, under him, a family with four hundred years of history had now come to an end. He was the one who’d left the village to join the PLA against all advice. He was the one who told his parents that the house would thrive. Now he had to return to visit those ghostly halls and tell them that the family line would end with Jun and that if Jun died, there would be no more Songs.

Klavdiya felt his pain, but she couldn’t share his burden. She had given him children already—three, to be exact—now, she was too old and he was too exhausted.

Yet fate was a fickle thing.

When Guo had inadvertently found Hai and Gwen and discovered Percy had the rarified Affinity for Salt, Guo had felt as though the ancestors' spirits had forgiven his trespass, resigning himself to repetitive utterances of, "Thank Mao. Thank Mao. I can now face my father's grave."

Now, her husband had to ensure that Percy's legacy—thereby the Songs’ legacy—was without blemish. The matter was an inheritance of the Song Clan and a relic called the Kirin Amulet. Initially a single item, Guo had separated it to give to his two sons. According to his village's legend, the Kirin Amulet had been crafted from the core of a Celestial Kirin, one of the four Heavenly-Beast archetypes of the old dynasties, worshipped as land gods before the PLA had forbidden such nonsense. For the Songs, the amulet was an inheritance from father to son.

Jun had the Yang half.

Hai had the Yin half.

Gwen had inherited her amulet from Hai, given to her out of kindness, passed from father to daughter.

When Guo had suggested Gwen give up the amulet for Percy, Klavdiya had asked Jun to intervene, for if her mulish husband listened to anyone, it was his younger son, the pride and joy of the House of Song. As anticipated, Guo couldn't embarrass his son in front of the granddaughter, leaving the matter unresolved.

In Klavdiya's eyes, the pendant belonged to Gwen. Already, the girl had been tortured, abandoned, and left distressed and afraid by her father and then her grandfather. Not only that, she’d lost her teacher, home and friends to Sydney's Beast Tide. To take the only possession from her father would to too cruel even for Guo.

Knowing Guo's bloodline, the boy wouldn’t need its blessings until he had children of his own, but that would be many years yet. By then, with the girl mellowing into the Songs’ legacy, the amulet's passing from sister to brother could be a kind and pragmatic act.

What was unexpected, Klavdiya supposed, was the sudden manner in which Gwen had distinguished herself by besting Shanghai's youths at the Bund, then winning the Hengsha tournament.

Ecstatic at Gwen's burgeoning Affinity for Lightning and the impossible element of Void, Klavdiya had called in a few more favours from Dean Luo and Magister Wen. The ordeal, she had hoped, would have been one for celebration.

But it wasn't so for her husband.

Gwen's affirming flame was so bright, so brilliant, that Percy's talent was a shivering candle beside the furious discharge of her blinding lightning.

As for Guo's unquenchable antagonism, Klavdiya could only chalk it down to ingrained insecurity left by Hai's deceit. Another son's kind words might have swayed a better man, but Hai was not a good child, and Guo had long since given up on being a good father.

Watching her husband's eyes boring into the girl, Klavdiya made up her mind to help her herself, even if Guo dared to admonish her.

She didn’t wish to fight her husband and they still loved one another too much to threaten a separation.

In giving Gwen every aid she could muster, Klavdiya could only hope that one day, the girl standing on the top of the world would remember them as her family, one that had chosen poorly, and not her adversaries.

"As I was saying… what do you think, Gwen?" Gwen's grandfather persisted. "About our designs for Percy?"

The ominous tension caused Gwen to stiffen, so much that she could feel cramps developing throughout her diaphragm and abdomen. Gwen looked at her brother, who didn’t meet her eyes.

"I am overjoyed that he could inherit your austere position in time," she stated loudly, feeling the constrained emotion in Guo's voice. As polite and pleasant as she had been to her grandfather, they had remained estranged for reasons she could not discern.

"Am I to understand you support Percy's bid?" Guo reclined in his chair, touching a finger to his temple. "I wonder, then…"

The patriarch's following words caught her off guard like a vicious Salt Strike. "What would you say if I wanted you to become the Matriarch of the House of Song? Would you like to become the inheritor? Replace your brother?"

Beside her, Percy stiffened, appearing as though struck by one of Gwen's Lighting Bolts. Mirroring her brother, Gwen felt her movements petrify.

Her grandfather wasn't serious, and this was a test—that much was evident, but the offer still made her dizzy with unbidden projections of the future. She didn’t possess the ambition to take what was Percy's, but it didn't mean that her blood wasn't boiling and her face hadn’t taken on a glowering, presumptuous pink shade.

Guo's question hung in the air until Gwen could force her lips to move. "You jest, Grandfather," she replied carefully. "At any rate, I have no desire to inherit. It’s not my place nor my inclination."

"Good. A fine declaration," Guo replied, allowing each syllable of Mandarin to ring across the vaulted ceiling of the meeting room.

Percy looked as though he was already rocking back and forth from the rollercoaster of emotions and expectations. When he looked up again at his sister, Gwen could see the germination of a seed planted the day her Aussie opa had given her the keys to the estate.

When Percy looked downcast, Gwen felt constricting guilt plugging her chest. She’d lived two lifetimes yet she had been an absent presence in Percy's life both times. Should she have paid more attention to her brother? Gwen wondered how differently she could have chosen until she realised her grandfather was still speaking.

"The House of Song originated from the late Yuan Dynasty when the people of Hebei rebelled against Mongol rule. There have been many branching sects since, but our house has remained as guardians of the home front."

She wasn't sure how to feel about Guo. Her bond with Opa had been so easy, so effortless, just like her love of her babulya. If Guo wanted to kick her out, what should she do? They said that one couldn't choose kin, but wasn't the covenant of the womb a sacred union, especially in the east?

Her babulya had said that she would walk the Path of Asura. If so, wasn't this just another thing she had to fight?

Her grandfather continued unabated.

"When the Manchurians finally broke the Ming's back, the house chose to go underground, fighting the oppressors in another form. The village was rebuilt not once, but fourteen times! It was the darkest period of the Songs’ history. Song Kai volunteered for the dangerous mission."

No, Gwen decided. Her grandfather would have his way, but she would never give up her babulya, Uncle Jun, and the family she’d found. One lifetime of loneliness had been enough.

In this stranger's land where she was a stranger, Gwen Song would carve out her piece and make it her own. Here, she would prosper, and her Master's plans would come to fruition, and then Gunther and Alesia would be proud when they came to visit.

In front of her, Guo's story was reaching a climax. "I left the village! It was a decision that shocked them all. I met your grandmother during those dark days. The Communist Party finally united China in 1949, sweeping aside the magical creatures, the demi-humans, and most importantly, the foreign devils who thought themselves… which is why I hope you could come to understand why Percy is such an important part of the Songs’ legacy."

Gwen blinked, attempting to recollect Guo's story.

Ming dynasty?

Manchurians?

The Japanese?

An old village, rotting away in Hebei.

She could understand her grandfather's position, but how was she supposed to find inspiration or rapport? Did he expect her to swell with filial piety? Break out with patriotism when finally, Maozhidong's army had pushed into Shanghai and razed the Japanese encampments to the ground?

Guo had good cause, but the man's rationales were of such pith and moment that they trumped her wants, dispelled her desires, negated her needs with brute force.

"Gwen?" her babulya said.

Gwen met her grandmother's soft eyes apologetically, determined to give her grandmother no trouble. She bowed her head. "What would you like me to do, Grandfather?"

Klavidya made her unhappiness known and a long sigh.

"I shall be plain then." Guo no longer minced words. "I request the return of the Kirin Amulet."

Guo felt it best not to meet his wife's eyes.

Barely three weeks ago, under the hard light of a Cognisance Chamber, the foreign girl had professed to be his granddaughter, the progeny of Hai, and the single most talented youth Guo had ever seen. Within hours, Klavdiya had caught wind of the girl's existence and brought her home like a stray animal.

Then, not more than forty-eight hours later, the girl returned from some Mao-forsaken nightclub, having trounced the Lins and shamed the Fung family, flaunting her forbidden skills in an underground fighting ring, for money!

Yet, somehow, before Guo could give her a sound thrashing to remind her of the discipline her father had utterly neglected, he received a vid-cast routed from the Central Committee. After apologising to his superior, he was forced to confront a Radiant gweilo accompanied by a livid sorceress wearing too much red.

Klavdiya had had to take his hand and calm his infernal temper. That damned scarlet woman's first words were to threaten him! Him—Guo Song! A committee secretary!

"Imprison Gwen again and I'll burn Shanghai to the ground!"

Hers was a threat to the state's dignity, but the Central Committee had chosen to dismiss the matter out of respect for the man beside her, the new Tower Master of Sydney, Gunther Shultz.

Guo had almost called the woman's bluff. But for Klavdiya, he would have thrown Gwen Song back into the Sky Prison.

But that option was beyond him now. The girl, against all expectation, was a direct disciple of not just any Magister, but the Mage who had founded the Tower system used by the west. Even in China, only the marshal of the People's Liberation Army, or one of the twenty-four secretariats of the state serving under the supreme leader of the Party, could have compared to the influence once wielded by Henry Kilroy.

It was just as well then that the man had perished, though Guo suspected the girl had had something to do with it.

Perhaps as a mutual gesture of respect, Gunther Shultz had removed the offending woman in red, apparently the heroic "Scarlet Sorceress", followed by an apology on her behalf.

Guo had then sat down with the Morning Star to discuss his wayward granddaughter.

"I do not wish to make things difficult for either of us, Secretary Song," the man had said. The implication had been obvious. The gweilo Magus had indicated he chose to smooth things over, meaning he could elect other choices as well.

So they negotiated, conversed in charades and bargained with enigmatic implications until, against all odds, Guo had found that he liked the man. They were military men put into enviable positions by deed and not by connections—men of competence who could find a compromise.

Soon, they reached an agreement.

Gunther would convince the mother to release Percy Song into Guo's care.

In return, Guo had promised to see Gwen through university, one of the top two that could access the International University Competition, and supply her with shelter, aid and care as long as she remained in Shanghai. Finally, at her education's end, she would be free to venture out of the city, unmolested by the CCP's Party politics.

Personally, Guo couldn't guarantee the finer details but had agreed because only a fool would wish to antagonise Gunther Shultz and sour the Guangxi established by the late Henry Kilroy.

However, a final fishbone in Guo's throat had to be addressed.

The Amulet.

Using it, she had won Hengsha.

After the island, all his colleagues had suddenly grown interested in the girl.

"Guo, you've been hiding a gem from us," his Politburo colleagues had joked with him. "You should let her out into society, old hound. We no longer live in the old society, you know."

Even his superior, the Secretary of the Internal Affairs Committee, had mentioned her. "What is this I hear about a Void Mage in your family?" From his communication device had come the voice of a woman Guo respected and admired as a colleague and a patriot, and it grated his ears to hear her speak of his estranged granddaughter. "Mind bringing her in for a tour? Maybe we can help her out."

He had declined their offers.

Then at the banquet, Klavdiya had surprised them all by announcing not only that she had made Gwen apply to Fudan, but that Dean Luo had personally accepted Gwen into a full-time scholarship.

Three weeks.

THREE WEEKS! Guo felt his mind reel and turn.

In less time it took for a junior Mage to master Magic Missile, the girl had fought her way into the inner circle of the progenies of politics and prosperity. She’d impressed the scions of the Clans. She’d made herself known in the Pudong Tower. She’d acquired a lauded scholarship awarded to only six students per annum in Fudan.

And that wasn't the worst of it.

They loved her.

His family loved her.

Jun adored her for reasons he could not begin to understand.

His wife pulled in favours she had held for decades to help the girl.

The Wangs, the damned Wangs who could never see eye to eye with him, whom Guo had counted on to become a staunch ally to Percy, fawned over the girl as though she was one of their own.

Even his wife's niece, who’d fled from trouble in Moscow, was struck by the girl.

How was such a thing possible? The very prospect of what the girl could achieve frightened Guo.

He couldn't understand it.

He rarely dared to displease Klavdiya in their four decades of marriage, but this was something he had to do.

He must return Percy's birthright, or else the line of Song would truly end.

"I also wish for you to renounce your candidacy as heir to the House of Hebei Song, the descendants of Song Ying Xing," Her grandfather declared.

Gwen allowed the words to filter through her mind.

Surprisingly, she felt nothing.

She undid her redstring necklace with slow ceremony and retrieved the amulet, still warm with her body heat from its home just above her chest. The half-amulet glinted in the low light, its jade glowing faintly, its marbled patterns appearing as though vessels of blood.

Guo continued to speak. "There are uses for the amulet which are only known to the inheriting member of the family. Hai never learned it; he was too young when he left. Jun has learnt it, but he has no children. Percy, however, is a perfect beneficiary of the amulet's boon. Gwen, it's useless to you because you will not learn its secrets. You will not access its greatest gift."

"Guo!" Her grandmother snapped at her husband. "Get on with it."

Holding the pendant in the palm of her hand, Gwen carefully caressed the thing that had aided her since her Awakening. The Kirin Amulet was the reason they’d won the competition. It was her ticket to Creature Cores, currency and thereby her success. Likewise, it had received Almudj's blessing, though she was thankful that Almudj's mana was spirit-bonded to her astral body and not stuck in this trinket.

"Alright." She spoke with trembling tenderness. There was no need for hysterics, no call for drama. What good would that do her now? She was letting go of something, but then Guo was letting go of something too. With the amulet given, she would be free of the Songs, more so than Hai.

"I, Gwen Song, daughter of Hai Song and Helena Huang, renounce my entitlement to inherit the House of Song. Likewise, I will therefore remove myself from this house, and as ask that you do not interfere with my future in any way, shape or form."

She felt her breath quicken as she starkly felt the space between her breasts, feeling as though she had removed a piece of her flesh.

"Percy, come here," she said to her brother.

"Sis, I…" Percy looked as though he wanted to refuse, but Gwen knew her brother better than that. He was an ambitious pup. Percy had always thought himself destined for greatness. Against Guo, it was delusional even to imagine her brother possessing the gall to say no.

As in a dream, Percy moved his hand mechanically toward her as though the offending appendage did not belong to him but someone else. Gwen allowed the red strings to loosen before hanging them over her brother's neck.

Her brother's eyes reddened.

"Thank you," he muttered softly, wetting his parched lips.

Gwen forced her hand to move away from his chest and rest beside her thighs. She breathed deeply until her breath returned to its usual cadence and her gaze to the foot of the chair where Guo sat, still wearing an old, worn pair of cotton flats, the kind that farmers wore in Hubei.

"I am glad you and I could see eye to eye," her grandfather said. "If you wish to move away, I am more than happy to provide—"

"Guo, I'll take it from here." It was her babulya who intervened, cutting off her husband mid-sentence. She left the seat and walked toward Gwen to take her hand. "Take your grandson and go, Guo. I need to speak to Gwen."

Guo's face visibly twitched, though he said nothing as he led her brother into the private antechamber.

"Goodnight, Grandfather," Gwen coaxed her voice to retain its usual timbre. She then turned to her brother. "Congrats, Percy."

Percy said something as well, but Gwen was already being hugged by her grandmother, who led her out back to the side garden, where Jun and her father, Morye, were waiting for them.

"We heard a few words from here," Her father began. "Well, it doesn't take a Diviner to guess what that old dog—"

"Jun, Hai, the training room." Their babulya silenced him before motioning toward Gwen's now-defunct bedroom.

"Yes, ma'am."

"Alright, Mama."

Within, Richard had already packed her belongings.

"So," he looked up expectantly, "when do we move out?"

"Richard…" Gwen felt such gladness for her cousin that she wanted to cry.

"Richard!" Morye broke the sentimental moment, extending his hand. "Good to see you. How are your parents?"

"In a refugee camp, sir," Richard replied drily. "They lost everything during the attack. You were there."

Morye retracted his hand. "Right, of course."

"But they're doing better now, waiting on some CCs for their immigration grants."

"Ah, that's good to hear," her father replied awkwardly before turning to Gwen. "Look, don't worry about the old hound, alright? Fuck him. Why do you think I left? You’ve got me still, right?"

Gwen looked at her father's boisterous face. Was the man trying to cheer her up? Rely on him? She felt too exhausted to fight him and too sorry for Babulya for having a son like Hai.

"Hai, don't speak about your father like that," Klavdiya chided him.

Her father scoffed. "Alright, Mama. Look, I am sorry about Percy. I didn't teach that boy well. He takes after his mother, I'd say. Well, Gwen? You want a hug?"

Somehow, her father's come-what-may attitude made her feel better about the whole ordeal. "I'll be fine. I’m just a little… upset."

"Don't be shy. Come on," Morye urged, glancing at his mother as though seeking approval. "Right in here. Both arms."

With her babulya watching expectantly, Gwen resigned herself to the unexpected filial indulgence. She allowed her father's arms to envelop her as she walked into his embrace, feeling his hands stretch across her shoulder and waist. Morye brushed her cheeks, his stubble stabbing into her skin. She became enveloped by his cologne and odour, reminding her of Forrestville, of the daily struggle to get her out of bed. She recalled when her father had given her a birthday gift, a six-pack of Bonds underwear, only to find out later it was originally intended for one of his girlfriends.

"Thanks, Dad." Gwen pulled herself away, feeling a little dubious about the nostalgia she had just undergone.

"Red Stars, I wish I had a daughter," Jun said beside them, his eyes green with envy. "That was beautiful."

"You don't know the half of it." Morye punched his brother in the arm. "That was a highlight for sure. Most of the time, Gwen screams like her mother."

"So…" Richard stashed his backpack against the wall and faced the family expectantly. "What's the go now, Gwen? I'll go wherever you go."

"Gwen, how are you feeling?" her babulya finally had a moment to squeeze in a word.

"I’m fine." Gwen allowed her grandmother to caress her tender cheeks. "I’m good. I can deal with it. I am dealing with it."

"Please don't feel too strongly towards your grandfather. He's a stubborn old man, acting out of fear and stubbornness and not malice,” as she spoke, her grandmother gave her father a look that weighed volumes.

"I know that." Gwen squeezed her grandmother's hands. "I'd be lying if I said I don't feel any resentment, but I understand how and why it happened. I don't fault Grandfather for being who he is."

Her babulya sighed deeply. "I hope you mean that, Gwen." She patted her shoulder. "It would make me very happy if you do."

"I do mean it." Gwen was beyond glad that she had the wisdom of age to face the crisis. Had she been her sixteen-year-old self, an actual adolescent, she would have bawled her eyes out and accused the world of being cruel and uncaring.

"Gwen? Babulya? Can we come in?" There came a knock on the door.

The new guests were Petra, Mina and Tao.

"Sorry for intruding," Petra spoke first. "We were—"

"Shit! So it's going DOWN? Are you getting kicked out? That's fucked, dawg! G-dawg is NOT cool. NOT COOL!"

Petra pushed past her indignant cousin and gave Gwen a big hug. "Don't worry, Gwen," Petra said. "Your scholarship, your position at the school, your future. Nothing can take them away from you. Look at me, I was also away from my parents, and I survived just fine. Whatever you need, I'll help."

"Thanks, Pats." Gwen felt her depression dispel.

"Gwen!" Lea burst from Richard and joined the huddle, careful not to wet the two girls.

"Do we have to?" Mina rolled her eyes but relented in the end, joining the triplet to form a foursome of bodies rocking back and forth. "Say, you want to stay with me for a while? I got a spare apartment close to Fudan and a couch for Richard, that or you can stay with us at the estate."

Tao wanted to join in, but Richard arrested the man before he could ruin the mood. "Give them some space," he said to his distant cousin. "This is something girls can do that we can't because we’re stoic men who check our emotions at the door. Also, spoil this moment, and Petra will kick your ass."

"Right. Thanks, dawg." Tao surprised them all by staying put.

While Gwen immersed herself in the company of her cousins, her uncle Jun took the opportunity to speak to her babulya. "Well, Mum? Regretting your decision not to fight Dad?"

"Not anymore." Klavdiya hooked her son's arm inside her elbow. "Do you think young Percy could ever attain this? Gwen's with us for what, two, three weeks? The girl has a talent that's far beyond magic. The House of Song would have flourished under her."

"And she's not one to forget her brother," Jun pointed out, then hugged his mother. He lowered his voice. "Mother, perhaps I could—" His eyes met Gwen's.

"No, you mustn't." Klavdiya shook her head and squeezed her son's hand. "You need it; it's too dangerous otherwise. Wait until Gwen's older… assuming she wants children of her own."

"I'll have it ready for her." Jun touched his mother's hair thoughtfully.

Unsure of what the two were speaking about, Gwen looked at her father, who appeared absentmindedly in search of a cigarette.

The girls separated.

"Feeling better?" Petra was dazzling, as always.

"Never better." Gwen exhaled. It was an honest statement, at least.

"Yeah, dawg. Don't be a stranger!" Tao said with his usual elegance.

A stranger, she mused. Only a moment ago, she had fancied herself a stranger. Yet no less than half an hour later, she had family again.

Taking a step back, she surveyed the friends and family that she had gained by coming to Shanghai.

Babulya, Petra, Mina, Tao, Uncle Jun and Richard.

Gwen bowed deeply toward her "family", sincerely expressing her gratitude. As they said, home was where the heart was. If the Songs didn’t want her, she would carve out a place of her own—a home, a house, a demesne, a Tower!

Chapter ten

Picking Up the Pieces

Even with a medium storage ring, Gwen couldn't fit everything she owned.

Babulya had told them that they needn't pack so hastily, but Gwen felt scant desire to meet Percy and Guo in the morning and put on a charade of congeniality. She then proposed finding a motel for a short-term stay while they shopped for lodging, until Mina's passion persuaded her to take up one of her dad's vacant apartments.

"Mina, I think it's too much," Gwen replied. It wasn't as though they would be homeless. She had enough HDMs to last Richard and herself for half a year, assuming no unforeseen expenses, and she’d always hated the idea of charity.

"I don't mind taking you up on it," Richard answered in her stead, as straightforward as ever. "But you need to charge us the going rate. We're not broke, at least not yet. It'll make it easier for Gwen to swallow."

“Yeah!” Mina insisted.

Babulya tried again to convince Gwen and Richard to stay for a week longer, but Gwen politely refused, soothing Klavdiya by kissing her forehead. "It's alright, Babulya. I’m feeling fine. Moving out is something that has to be done. Rest assured, this changes nothing between us."

With the matter resolved, Tao called for housekeeping to clean the place while Gwen and Richard packed with the help of Mina and Tao's storage rings.

At the threshold of the Song estate, her grandmother once again grew worried. "Gwen, promise me you'll come back," she pleaded. "Your grandfather is a stubborn old mule, but he'll come around one day."

"I'll keep that in mind," Gwen replied enigmatically. "Don't forget, Babulya, we still have our shopping date, and I'll come and see you for checkups. We'll be spending time together again, but for now, I need some space."

"Dear, I am sorry for what happened." Her babulya shook her head.

"Take care of yourself, Gwen." Jun shook her hand, then shook Richard's. "Take care of her, Richard."

"I will," Richard said.

"Another one for the road?" Her father appeared intoxicated with the father-daughterly rapport he'd built on presumption. Gwen suspected it was because they were both giving Guo the finger. "I suppose another one couldn't hurt." She indulged herself again, finding the intimacy strange and unusual.

"I'll be around. Call if you need help." Her father gave her a wink.

Jun looked on with such envy that Gwen indulged her uncle as well, though his bushy beard stabbed her lips painfully and irritated her cheeks.

"Here’s my glyph." Her uncle passed over a note.

Gwen embraced him a little tighter, wondering if her life would have been different if Jun had been her father.

As soon as they were inside the car, Mina stepped on the pedal. Then they were out of the Songs’ home and in Shanghai's fantastic mirage of lights.

Klavdiya, Jun and Morye watched as the dark vehicle pulled away from the compound.

Klavdiya sighed.

"They'll be fine, Mama." Morye patted his pockets for a cigarette, then sighed with as much disappointment as his mother.

"I concur." Jun patted his brother's shoulders. "You’ve got one heck of a daughter, brother."

"Well, I did raise her myself," Morye boasted proudly.

Klavdiya turned to Morye, her amber eyes glowing with criticism. "Did you really, Hai?"

Hai swallowed his following words.

"So, no send-off from Percy, huh?" Jun remarked with a frown. "Not very brotherly, considering what Gwen gave up."

"That boy takes after his mother." Hai snickered.

"Is that all you have to say?" Their mother's tone was not happy.

Hai let out another long, drawn-out breath. "I suppose I am responsible as well. I was negligent in teaching him. Sorry, Ma."

The three of them stood listening to the sound of frog-song lifting from the rock garden just outside the compound.

"Hai," Jun asked at last, "you told Gwen to call you."

"Yeah."

"You don't have a Message glyph. You don't even have a Message device right now."

Hai shrugged. "So?"

Klavdiya pinched her brows. "I am tired," their mother said into the night. "Goodnight, boys."

"Goodnight." Hai bowed slightly.

"Goodnight, Mother. I'll be going back to the barracks." Jun shook his head at his brother, then comforted his mother with a smile.

The trio took one last look at the vehicle screeching past the main boulevard, then went their separate ways into the flickering darkness.

"You sure you're alright?" Mina held Gwen's cold hands as the car cruised down the Second Orbital Ring Road. "Your fingers are like icicles."

"I’m holding up," Gwen replied, one of her hands unconsciously moving toward her chest. "All the adrenaline is draining out of me, that's all."

"The Kirin Amulet…" Richard observed Gwen repeatedly feeling the space between her breasts. "You never did clarify what it did."

"It's a little hard to explain, but you've all seen it in action, so I'll try my best." Gwen informed her companions of what she could discern, listing each instance in which the Kirin Amulet acted on her behalf. "The most important thing is that during the Mermen Crisis in Sydney, it drew power from a Mythic serpent's egg, then fended off a Faceless shapeshifter by releasing the serpent's essence."

"You're gonna have to tell us about that sometime," Mina remarked. "Mermen? Shapeshifters? Mythic beasts? Your life sounds like someone wrote a vid-cast episode. Are you sure you're the same age as we are?"

"Who knows? What if I told you I was a wise old Changeling?"

"Ha!" Mina chortled. "As if!"

Gwen smiled weakly at her cousin. Telling the story of her time in Sydney had felt hard and unpleasant. To think that she’d once had a geas planted in her by Henry that had prevented her from speaking to anyone about Almudj. Now that restraint was gone. Invariably, she grew aware of a masochistic desire to feel the old geas restraining her astral soul. Such an agony would act as proof that her Master was alive, that if she recounted of Almudj, her rare and kind mentor would at once know of her disloyalty.

But whatever her wishes, her Master was gone, murdered barely a month ago.

Gwen trembled at the thought. Had it only been a month? She suddenly felt at a loss, for losing the pendant was nothing when compared to the loss of her Master.

"Gwen," Petra said beside her, "now that you don't have this amulet, I think my Master should give you a proper checkup. From the time we were together in Hengsha, I'd say it did more than absorb essences from dead monsters. You might not think so, but I think you're going to regret letting that thing go."

"I know, but it's just a thing, in the end," Gwen said.

"Gwen doesn't need it," Richard said. "It was a ball and chain as much as it was useful. On the Frontier, we don't get to see many magic items, so we've learned not to rely on them overmuch. Most of us go into battle with a bandoleer of potions, that's it."

"Now that's God's truth," Gwen said. "We don't get any magic items out there in the Outback. Just roos, emus and aurochs. So many aurochs. Which we wrangle with our bare hands."

"You joke, I hope." Petra wrapped an arm around Gwen's shoulders. "My only concern is that you continue to hit the coursework. Whatever the heck the amulet did for you, you can do better for yourself. I mean to make a Mage out of you, and I mean it!"

"Thanks, Pats." Gwen leaned on her cousin's broad shoulders. "You're worth ten Kirin Amulets."

Her cousin turned away with a smile.

A loud snore from the rear-most seat of the seven-seater SUV interrupted the conversation. Tao, as expected, was a man with a talent for disruption like no other.

Some thirty minutes later and closer to midnight, Mina's car arrived at a set of serviced apartments some fifteen minutes’ walk from the Bund.

Gwen sucked in the chilling night air as they exited the SUV. A vacant apartment? She grimaced. Mina's gesture of charity turned out to be a two-bedder suite at the Shanghai-Bund Waldorf overlooking the Bund and the Huangpu River.

Within, the NoM servants had already refilled the toiletries and changed the sheets before the young Mages arrived. According to Mina, there was also a twenty-four-hour kitchen, anytime room service, a masseuse and laundry services, all prepaid by the strata.

"We'll start looking for a place tomorrow," Gwen said immediately, feeling her crystals becoming lighter with the passing of each moment.

"My recommendation is to stay on campus," Petra advised sagely, her eyes scanning the ultra-luxury interior. "Assuming there are vacancies, LCSS students should have no issues getting approval. Of course, the admin's as slow as molasses, and you might have to be enrolled first, but I’m sure they'll make an exception for scholarship recipients."

"Thanks, Pats. I'll swing by first thing in the morning."

"Why? You're always welcome to stay here," Mina reminded Gwen. "It's a little far, I know, but it's cheap and clean."

Cheap doesn't begin to cover half of whatever this is. Gwen smiled as she suppressed an urge to shout. "It's okay, I'll need to see Pats almost daily, and I'd like to try out campus life." She met her cousin's imploring eyes with tenderness. She felt a little dirty for euphemistically omitting the fact that there was no way she and Richard could afford a place like this long-term. "Thanks, Mina. I appreciate your offer, and I won't forget your kindness."

"Don't mention it." Mina appeared well-pleased.

"Yeah, it's our dad's anyway, he said to—Ow!" Tao hissed at his sister.

"Peaches, shut up." Mina withdrew her pincer-like fingers.

Gwen maintained a sweet mien and said nothing.

"Yo, you guys wanna have some Xiao-ye?" Tao said. "There's five of us, and we're five minutes’ walk from Huahai Road. Perfect for some hot pot."

"Hot-pot?" Gwen's ears perked up. She’d heard of the famous steamboat dish before and seen her colleagues enjoy it in Sydney, though she had never participated.

"Ya. Bitch'n peppers that melt your asshole. Order the red soup, then dunk in some prime cuts of lamb and auroch, Wildland vegetables and mushrooms. It's the SHIT dawg!"

"I’m game." Petra's anticipation suggested she was an old hand at the spice game.

"Count me in. I love spicy food," Richard said. "I've had it a few times in Australia as well, though I doubt it was authentic."

"Great, I'll take morning class off tomorrow." Mina twirled her hair. "Gwen?"

Gwen pictured a mountain of ingredients sitting next to a famously steaming pot, eaten at two am. "Alright." Her stomach growled. "Let's do it."

"I can’t feel my mouth." Gwen moaned as she sipped her warm beer. "My tongue ish numb."

Initially, the reddish, peppery soup had been savoury and zesty. Then, an hour into the meal, the soup had become lava, teaching her that what her Asian companions considered a medium level of spice was, for her, suicide by fireball.

As she lay in a food daze, she was shocked to realise that the clock was ticking toward four am. Yet she didn't feel sleepy at all. Was it the overstimulating spice or the boisterous company?

Tao was on his sixth beer but remained entirely lucid, speaking loudly as he recounted stories with his gang of wannabe rappers. Mina appeared demure and petite, her coiled hair framing her small face as she sat primly, her slim thighs tucked across the low stool, a princess at a street eatery. Richard was a carnivore through and through, seemingly unaffected by the river of the molten pepper oil. He clinked beers with Tao often, surprising Gwen with his ability to make fast friends.

The boss, a hard-boiled veteran waging war against health inspectors, seemed impressed with the young Mages. He certainly provided supply them with an endless train of beer.

Eventually, Gwen grew drunk enough to speak of her life in Australia, her high school, and her meeting Alesia, Henry and Gunther.

"Wow, Henry Kilroy." Mina made a face. "I've read that name in one of my textbooks. To think he was still around."

"And Elizabeth Sobel. That bitch is COLD, dawg." Tao had seemed enthralled when Gwen had regaled them on the events at Rosebay, redacting her narrative where necessary.

"I want to meet this Elvia of yours," Mina noted after Gwen's story concluded. "I think we would get along."

"I wanna meet dis Yue," said Tao.

"And that Debora—what a poor girl." Mina chewed absentmindedly on some noodles. "Can't believe she was skin-changed for so long and no one noticed."

"We have skin-changers as well." Petra gave her two rubles. "Naturally, magical impersonation is illegal. The maximum penalty for identity theft under the PLA is summary execution or permanent stasis."

"They do summary executions here?" Gwen reached for another beer, though Richard passed her a glass of water instead.

"Oh yes, there are even vid-casts." Her cousin shrugged.

Gwen was a little too drunk to comment even as she shivered at the prospect of dying for a non-violent crime. "Anyway, now you know my story and why I need this scholarship, as well as the Inter-University Competition." She sipped her warm water. The chilli was so good, but it was so spicy. Her guts felt like Vulcan had opened a Dwarven forge in her intestines.

"Well," Petra wrapped another piece of lamb around her chopsticks expertly, swishing it back and forth in the hellish soup of floating garlic and Sichuan peppers, "it's a good plan. I think It'll work, but you've got quite a bit of balancing to do."

"I can be a good juggler," Gwen replied.

"If you want the Pudong Tower to recognise you, getting your Magus' accreditation is essential," Mina said. "That and participate in Tower Quests from Fudan T2. Once you're recognised by one of the Towers, the title is valid the world over."

"I can confirm that," Petra said. "My Master, Magister Wen, worked for Pudong for a while too, though she's well-received in the PLA Tower as well."

"Speaking of work, I'll be doing some part-time work over the next few weeks. At least until university starts," Richard said, turning toward Gwen. "I was going to tell you earlier. But you know, stuff happened—we got kicked out and became vagrants."

"What kind of work?" Mina asked.

"Light Utility-stuff, mostly construction and guard duty. It's close, just up the Yangtze. Babulya set me up with a few of her old colleagues who needed a good Water Mage."

"Pays well?" Gwen asked.

"Well enough." Richard grinned. "Enough to keep myself lodged and fed, with spare left over for training."

"Alright." Gwen didn't pursue the matter. Richard had his pride as well. It wasn't as though he was going to mooch off her the entire time they studied together. "Congrats on getting a job."

"Cheers." Richard raised a beer. "I'll leave finding our new home to you. If you can afford it, so can I."

Tao met Richard halfway and swigged his sixth stout, after which the group continued to talk until Mina fell asleep on Richard's shoulder, triggering a round of laughter from her extended family.

"We better pack it up." Richard finished off the last of his bottle. Tao agreed heartily and slammed his seventh.

Petra Messaged for a cab and then told Gwen to come to the lab after two pm. “We’ll go see campus administration, get our student card pre-registered, and see if admin can fast track your dorm application.”

“See you later, Pats.”

Finally alone, Gwen melted under the luxurious multi-headed shower system back at the borrowed apartment before retiring to the temporary luxury of silken sheets. Pushing herself against the window, she hugged a pillow closer to her chest as she sat city-gazing near the panoramic windowsill, her legs pale against the colourful panes and their prism of light. Her hair rested damply across her shoulders, slowly drying as the cool, conditioned air chilled her exposed shoulder. Below, the shimmering mirage of the Bund beckoned, promising a future fraught only with uncertainty.

Gwen woke around eleven. Her cousin was gone, though Richard had left a note reminding her to wear her Message device. He had also left her two hard-boiled eggs.

Gwen hefted the eggs in one hand. They felt more like billiard balls in weight and shape. These were either magical eggs or the hen was the size of a goat. She cracked one, and a sweet aroma of egg yolk filled the room. After last night's flaming turmoils, her stomach lining could use some fortifying.

Lacking access to her whole wardrobe, she found an easy-Sunday dress and her favourite sandals. It was her first day in Shanghai as a free woman, and she wanted it to be as uncomplicated as her attire.

Drawing a recalled glyph on the lock, she locked the apartment after washing the dishes and setting the bed, then ventured toward Fudan via the No. 10 subway.

Out in the open, she found it easy enough to orientate herself once she was in the suburbs surrounding Fudan. To her right, the enormous superstructure of the PLA Second Army Experimental Hospital loomed on the horizon. To her left, the top of the two mock Towers atop the Guanghua building peeked over the numberless apartments.

Seeing as it was only noon, Gwen figured she should explore the area and find her bearings. The university district was a modern area, with manicured greens on well-kept median strips, without the muddy potholes and choking construction of the older neighbourhoods.

As she passed a block zoned for reconstruction, she marvelled at the transformation of the old Hutongs, buildings that had existed since the Ming Dynasty, and were rapidly gentrifying into shopping streets.

"Spare some change, miss?" a voice croaked out just below her field of vision. Gwen almost jumped at the sight of a tramp who emerged from the darkness between two alleyways marked for demolition.

The man was an NoM, for she would have felt a Mage approach through their ambient mana. Usually, she would have ignored folk such as these, as she had in her old life, but this was her first day in Shanghai as a woman of means, and she fancied herself in a generous mood.

"I could spare some, sure." Gwen stopped beside the construction site. Above, in red writing, a slogan read something to the effect of, "Peaceful Removal of Old Structure for Safety—Welcome the Birth of Civil District."

The NoM seemed as surprised as Gwen when she took note of his existence.

"Donation for… the poor?" the old man repeated. He had the look of someone wracking his brains for something intelligent to say but was too shocked that a Mage, a gweilo at that, was speaking to him. "They took my home."

The NoM looked to be in bad shape. The old battler had bruises on his face, and he sat, half crouching, on what looked like a dolly used for furniture removal.

Gwen materialised a few LDMs, as well as the comically large egg she’d saved from breakfast.

"Here, sir," she said kindly, kneeling to offer her charity. The hobo's eyes widened when he realised she was giving him not mundane currency but mana crystals.

"This is too much," he croaked, looking afraid.

Gwen felt the presence of Mages turning the corner.

"Hey! What are you doing?" someone barked across the dilapidated space of the deconstruction zone. Gwen quickly recovered, cursing herself for her random charity, for the tone of the incoming voice sounded far from friendly. Whatever happened, she had better not be late for Petra.

The trio were construction Mages, though Gwen was surprised to find the leader wearing a naval officer's cap embossed with Shanghai's skyline. The leading officer was short and middle-aged, while his two companions looked like cadets. These, Gwen realised, were the City Guard, more colloquially known as the Chengguan.

Gwen stiffened as they approached.

"Hao! I told you not to return here," the middle-aged officer howled at the hobo, then stepped between the man and Gwen.

"We're sorry if you were harassed, miss." The two young men bowed. "If you would like to make a report on this incident, we’re happy to be of service."

"Oh no, it's quite alright." Gwen put up her hands and back-pedalled at the Chengguan's eagerness to be model guardians of the city's civility.

While two younger men charmed her with diplomacy, the officer continued to admonish the NoM beggar for violating a string of the city's rules Gwen had never heard of before, everything from "No soliciting money", to "No loitering around construction zones".

"But here is my home," the man wailed. "I lived here for thirty years!"

"You HAVE A NEW HOME!" the officer shouted at him, sending a string of spittle flying toward the man like dandruff. "GO HOME, HAO!"

"Was he lying?" Gwen asked out of curiosity. "The man said he was homeless."

"The NoMs are provided new homes, miss," one of the young men answered, eyes aglow with earnestness. "The residents here are moved to the more rural areas where the city has built a whole new apartment city for them."

"Oh, that's nice," Gwen replied, unsure of who to believe.

"Are you a student, miss?"

"From Fudan, yes."

"How wonderful."

"Hao, I am warning you. Move it," the sergeant barked, finally out of patience.

"No. Please, Li. My home is here. We grew up in the same Hutong. You can't just demolish the place. My father and his father lived here. Your grandmother too."

"Yuu, Lee, with me." Officer Li sighed. "Get this eyesore out of the way."

The two officers apologised profusely to Gwen and requested that she leave the premises.

Gwen complied and walked some distance away before she heard painful grunting and the noise of something scribbling and struggling, pressed against the pavement.

"Miss!" a voice called out behind her.

Gwen turned to see one of the cadets running toward her. The young Chengguan bowed again before opening his hands, revealing four LDM crystal chips.

"These are yours, I believe." The young man met Gwen's eyes expectantly. "Once again, allow me to apologise for the harassment you had to endure."

With a sinking feeling, Gwen took the LDMs and thanked the young officer.

The young man saluted before turning and running back to assist with what Gwen could only assume was the forced removal of the beggar from his old home.

Still feeling the sting, she hefted the weight of the LDMs in her hand before stowing them away in her storage ring. It took her another block before her mind wandered back toward Petra's appointment, motivating her to hasten her pace.

Nearer the middle of University Road, the already furnished glass and concrete apartments began. Above her, multi-storey apartments loomed over the sycamore trees lining the boulevard, while all around her, a riot of students and staff shifted through the innumerable choices available for lunch.

At lunch, University Boulevard was packed to the rafters with diners. There was a French bakery, a Texan smokehouse and a Japanese sushi train, all geographically aligned with infinite Chinese restaurants with just as many milk tea outlets. Tempted by the delicate scent of butter and eggs, Gwen ended up wasting another ten or so minutes purchasing two boxes of Lembas before she had to run for the administration building, hoping that Petra liked her shortcakes.

Chapter eleven

Regrets

The administration building, named after the Transmuter-Meister Chen Yeyao, wore an outdated coat of cream and cherry, which seemed to be a popular colour motif for most of Fudan's historical architecture. As if to mask the unsavoury palate, a thirty-metre high sheet of vines had taken residence across half the building, giving the faux-Georgian architecture an incidental air of antiquity.

Gwen and Petra entered through the foyer and found their way to the campus residences department, bypassing streams of administrative staff, mostly NoMs with the occasional Mage. Behind the chest-height counter, three NoMs sat hammering away into tablets, working through stacks of paper. Taking a ticket, the girls took a seat to await their turn. A sign indicated that the stall closed at 1600 hours.

Their ticket read "203". The current counter was at 188.

With nothing else to do, Gwen retold some of her life in Sydney with Hai Song, only for Petra to reveal that she knew more about Gwen's father than Gwen herself.

"He was famous before he uprooted himself and left Shanghai. Even my Master speaks of him. By the age of sixteen, Hai was already shortlisted for the PLA's new generation of committee officials."

"Power to him then, but I don't think Dad would have made a good leader." Gwen told her what she knew of Hai.

Petra's face took on a frosty expression when she elaborated on her father's infamous exploits with women. "That explains a lot."

"Oh no." Gwen grimaced. Holy shit, had her dad tried to hit on Petra, his niece?

"No, no!" Petra grimaced back. "I mean my Master and your dad, I suppose they were once acquainted, in a way."

Gwen felt her cheeks twitch. Petra's Master was only five years younger than her babulya.

"Now serving one hundred and eighty-nine."

Twenty minutes later, the counter ticked over.

"Bloody St Augustine," Petra cursed under her breath. "The bureaucracy! It's 14:35, and they close at 16:00! Gwen, wait here."

She pulled herself from the visitor chair and made straight for the counter.

A woman behind the counter looked up toward Petra. She had the same appearance of an incumbent admin anywhere, which was a bored and soulless, with a middle-distance gaze.

Petra glared at the NoM woman, menacing her with steely Siberian Husky eyes until the NoM stammered a response.

"We're inundated." The poor woman quaked beneath Petra's presence. Gwen wondered what her cousin was doing, then realised that Petra was likely exerting some of that Moscow menace she’d learned while training to be a Tower agent.

Behind the quaking woman, a staff member looked at Petra, made an abrupt turn, then executed an expeditious retreat.

"I-I'll serve you now," the woman stammered, clearly unable to take the pressure from her cousin's presence.

"No, you do your job," Petra stated coldly. She turned to the crowd. "Number one hundred and eighty-nine, where are you? Get over here!"

The young man who'd just stood up a moment ago held his ticket as though he was wrangling a snake. "Er, you can go first."

"Are you sure?" Petra walked over to the stunned young man and waved her ticket.

"Yeah, please."

"Here's mine in exchange, thanks. If there's anything I hate, it's queue jumping."

When her cousin broke her icy exterior to flash a pleasant smile at the young man, his face turned scarlet. Gwen could have sworn the poor man's knees knocked loud enough to make a sound.

The duo presented themselves at the desk.

"This is my cousin, Gwen Song. She's the current holder of the mid-year LCSS. She and her companion, Richard Huang, also a member of the LCSS, require lodging in the students’ quarters. What are your current vacancies? We're looking for long-term and single dwellings only."

The woman pulled up a stack of files and sifted through the list as if her life depended on it.

"Starting second semester, though any vacancies now would be good." Petra urged in a tone with a jagged edge.

"Please." Gwen smiled at the woman politely.

"Let's see… we have a shared room in the upper campus." The woman pulled out a file and placed it in front of them.

"A single, if you will, or rather, two singles," Gwen said. "Privacy for both myself and my fellow LCSS member is paramount. Or we can double up."

"You and Richard can't co-habit, by the way," Petra said. "The dorms have mixed gender, but the rooms are single-sex."

Under Petra's supervision, the poor woman produced a dozen or so vacancies currently available, none of which matched Gwen's needs.

"When do you expect to have more?" Petra tapped the forms. "Anyone leaving when the current semester ends?"

The woman produced a few more potential vacancies, though none sufficed.

As the list reached the last card, Gwen felt immense gratitude for Petra's help. She had saved her from wasting two hours.

"There's n-nothing left," the woman said.

"That's alright," Gwen said sweetly, tugging on Petra's sleeves to urge her to leave. "Thank you for your time."

As the girls' silhouettes faded from sight, the tension in the room visibly dissolved.

"One hundred and ninety?… One hundred and ninety-one?"

Somehow, the office’s efficiency reached a new peak.

"What now?" Gwen asked.

"We'll try the more expensive dorms. These are privately owned and rented out to students."

The girls cleared the administration section and approached the lower part of the campus near Guoding Road.

"Which one's yours?" Gwen asked. "Don't you live near here?"

"I do. About fifteen minutes’ walk from here. Master set me up in one of the dorms just outside the square."

"There wasn't room on campus, even for you?" Gwen asked. Petra had been there for almost two years, technically longer, considering she’d arrived at fifteen and started under Wen as a research member when she’d been sixteen.

"There was," Petra explained patiently, "but I’m not fond of the rowdiness of the campus dorms. I think if Babulya puts a word in with the dean, you might even rent for free. Although, I doubt the bursary can kick people out on your behalf. That would invite trouble from the ethics committee."

"Right." Gwen followed Petra through the gardens at the Qinyun Building, a marvel of curved glass and soaring steel wings. Their destination was a real estate office with WMR Properties and Conveyancers written overhead. In the foyer, they were greeted by an elaborate model of the surrounding district, stretching for a dozen blocks.

"Is Manager Xie in?" Petra asked the fresh-faced NoM receptionist. "We're looking to rent two single rooms. As close to campus as possible."

"Miss Kuznetsova?" The receptionist quickly glanced down before looking up with a smile like the blooming of a rare flower. "Of course. I'll get Manager Xie right away. One moment."

Petra found a couch and sat, crossing her legs and reminding Gwen of halcyon days hanging with her high rolling girlfriends in Sydney.

Manager Xie, a short, balding man with a face like a pudgy Buddha, came to greet them a few minutes later. His eyes formed two narrow slits when he saw the two girls lounging comfortably on the company's crimson tub chairs.

"Milly, no tea?" he scolded the receptionist, who immediately ran to provide the beverage. "Miss Kuznetsova, are you happy with your current lodgings? Looking to upgrade? Please pass on my most sincere greetings to Master Wen."

"I am satisfied with my lodging, Manager Xie. Thanks for asking," Petra replied. Gwen noted that her voice had a natural coldness, not unlike her Affinity for Elemental Mineral. "This is my kinswoman, Gwen Song, a newly enrolled member of the LCSS program. We are looking for two rooms, singles if possible, for herself and a family member, Richard Huang, also a young scholar of the LCSS program."

"I am in rare company." The manager bowed. "Pleased to make your acquaintance, Miss Song. May I ask what Clan or house you hail from?"

Gwen shook the manager's hand. "Gwen Song. I am an independent, for now. I'll be in your care."

"Of course. May I inquire as to your budget range? As Miss Kuznetsova would know, our rooms range from single to shared, service or unserviced, self-contained or shared facility. All, of course, with a range of rates to suit your needs."

"Give me a list of the single options under one hundred."

To Gwen's surprise, the NoM manager possessed a small storage ring from which he retrieved a data slate. A few simple somatic gestures on the screen later, the man turned to show Gwen the displayed vacancies on the E-ink slate, etched upon an off-white parchment.

B17–111 :: 35 HDM/M

B22–1114 :: 30 HDM/M

B24–404 :: 25 HDM/M

The prices were acceptable to Gwen, but on turning to the map, she noted that B17 was six blocks from Fudan. It would mean an extra twenty-minute walk in a town where students packed the streets like sardines. Unhappily, she had also crunched the numbers and knew that her monthly expenses, including lodging, food, textbooks, socials and training, were likely in the hundreds.

Gwen turned to Petra. "Can Richard and I share a privately-owned double?"

She shook her head. "I’m afraid not. The real estate cannot register cohabitation for unmarried Mages. It's a rule to prevent incidents."

"Not even with family members?"

"The sect Clans would love that," Petra joked.

Manage Xie chuckled nervously beside them.

"Is there anything closer?" Gwen pointed to the buildings fifteen to twenty minutes away from the centre of the campus, where the Henglong Building and the Towers stood.

Manager Xie tapped the screen again.

B1 P2201–P:: 520 HDM/M

Gwen almost spat out the tea Milly had just served them.

"Where is that?" Petra asked. "I didn't know B1 had vacancies."

"The penthouse suite," Manager Xie said with reverence. "It has four bedrooms, each self-contained, with a common lower mezzanine living with an open kitchen and shared dining. The upper storey has a common entertainment-living room."

"I don't think I can afford that." Gwen shook her head, thinking that she probably could afford such a place in her old world if she so desired.

"I know, but I always offer," the Manager said jovially. "One day, maybe. Who knows? There are many wealthy students in Shanghai."

"So there's nothing?"

"I am afraid B17 and beyond is all we have at the moment. There may be a few openings at the end of the year. I am more than happy to reserve what's available."

"Can I make a reservation now?"

"With a deposit, yes."

"Then please put me down for one closest to campus."

Manager Xie instructed his receptionist to bring a deposit slip and a reservation form, which Gwen signed and paid, handing over a sum of fifty HDMs per reservation, one for herself and another for Richard.

The closest vacancy available in January was B13, still some months away, but if that was the best Xie could offer, then that was what she must take while living on borrowed generosity from the Wangs.

"How about you bunk with me?" Petra said. With the tone of a mother hen, she advised that though Shanghai was a safe and lawful city, it still wasn't so safe for a girl Mage like Gwen to gallivant through its districts without care.

"That's where I live, B3–703." Petra pointed to one of the buildings a block away from the university campus. "Well-lit paths, regular patrols by the Chengguan, not too far from the convenience mart on the Boulevard."

As it was late, the girls found supper at a local Sushi Train, with Gwen ordering enough for two. They attracted a small group of spectators who gossiped at the foreigner's ability to pack away a stack of plates taller than herself.

After their early supper, Gwen followed Petra back to Magister Wen's laboratory, where she withstood three hours of Goulding's Primer before tottering home half-drunk with knowledge.

Inside Mina's apartment, she found Richard making ramen.

"Oh shit. Sorry, Dick. I should have doggy-bagged some sushi!" Gwen said as Richard combined two packets in a bowl.

"No worries. Not a fan of raw fish. Besides, I haven't tried this flavour before, 'Black bean beef'. It looks interesting." Richard shrugged at Gwen's neglect. "You want some? It comes in a six-pack."

Gwen hesitated. Was she currently capable of getting fat? Couldn't just fire a few Void Bolts into the air to burn off calories? Her hand moved to her abdomen, where she could feel her skin taut against the musculature. Maybe just a taste, she thought.

Gwen drank the last of the salty soup. The instant ramen had been better than she’d thought.

The word "instant" was also a bit of a misnomer since whatever arcane method had preserved the ramen had allowed it to retain the chewiness of its texture and the richness of the bone broth.

"So, unfortunately, no luck." She explained their plight to Richard.

"We could live further away. Or, at worst, I can live far away and you can stay with Petra. I'll come if you need me, anytime, anywhere."

Gwen nodded. “Okay, enough about that. How was work?"

Her cousin happily explained that he’d worked with a construction crew as a specialist consultant. With Lea's guidance, he could part the Huangpu, or more precisely, a three-by-three-metre portion of it so that foundations could be laid by the Transmuters working by his side. Thanks to his high-tier Affinity, he could predict changes in currents and work within a high-depth environment, all while conserving mana.

"Had to save a guy as well," Richard said with nonchalance. "Some fish-lizard that's mostly mouth and stomach got past the barrier and attacked one of the Transmuters, dragged him into the river. That was a close one."

"A monster got into the city?" Gwen raised a brow in surprise. "I thought the capitals were free of magical creatures."

"Our site was about fifty kilometres out; you can't even see the city from where we were," Richard said. "According to Reese, my foreman, it happens every other week. The further away from the city, the more frequently it happens. That's why there are purge quests on the regular. We can do some when you're free."

"But NoMs are living there, right? Upstream from the river?"

"Oh yes, millions. Tens of millions. Maybe even a hundred. Shanghai itself is about twenty million, if I recall. Up to fifty million if you include Suzhou to the west, Nantong up north, and Hangzhou toward the extreme south. A day out, and it's the Frontier, and then it is the Wildlands until you hit Tianjin."

"The Frontier's closer than I thought," Gwen noted, trying to picture a map of China from her memory of the old world.

"Was Sydney better? We used to get swarms of tiger sharks up the Parramatta River while ferries were in the water. In Shanghai, it'd take three hours of Flight before human settlements fade out."

"Do you reckon Sydney will recover?" Gwen asked, thinking of the city she used to call home. The Parramatta River must be two kilometres wide by now, courtesy of a Leviathan. The once-tranquil river could probably now serve as Sydney's premier deep-sea port.

"Sure, Gunther has it well in hand. He's got big plans, you know."

"Any ideas?"

"Nothing specific." Richard laughed. "I do know that he's planning to rezone the whole city. Maybe you can ask him when your LR Communication Caster is set up."

Gwen was impressed by the news. Could Gunther achieve what was necessary to make Sydney a tier-one city? What plans did Gunther have to beat back the Mermen? How could he tap into the ley-lines of the land? Could the Morning Star cow the Mermen by setting the seas to boil?

For a student like herself, the prospect of a Tower Master forging a Frontier into a first-tier city was something more akin to a strange and magnificent dream.

Gwen arrived at the lab early the next morning, ready to face the first of the tests requested by Magister Wen. When she entered the laboratory, she was met by Petra and the Magister, both in white coats and looking like scientific researchers from her old world.

"Gwen, you're here. Wonderful." Wen motioned for her to come closer. "We're going to start testing your elements today. Petra tells me you can manifest some form of Vitae-Fruit mana congelation?"

"I can." Gwen nodded. "Would you like a demonstration?"

"I would like a sample." Wen pointed to three spell cubes Petra had prepared on a stainless-steel desk.

"One Elemental Lightning, one Void and one of the vitae essence, if you will."

"I'll do my best."

Gwen approached the table and placed her hand on the first cube. She tapped into her sigils and allowed the free-flowing energies of the Quasi-Elemental Plane of Lighting to fill her mana channels, feeling their hysterical caress as the torrent of electricity fed into the vessel.

The next one was Void, and Gwen grimaced as the ice-cold energies of the Quasi-Elemental Plane shot through her body, seeking an escape into the material. Her volatile excretion cascaded like viscous ink within the cube's interior, hungrily consuming the space until the entire cube was darker than black.

"Good God." Magister Wen sucked in a chilling breath. "I can feel it from here. So this is Elemental Void. Amazing."

Gwen then closed her eyes and focused upon her mind's eye, picturing Almudj's energy as the green motes of life flowing through the dark expanse of her astral form. Almudj's primordial manifestation slowly condensed around her hand, dripping drop by drop into the vessel below as though filtered through layers of fabric.

"Fascinating." Her cousin placed a hand above the cube. "So much vitality! What do you think it is, Master?"

“I believe it’s a form of life force, the kind usually found in ancient beings. Do you recall Magister Salinger's lecture during that conference in Beijing? He invited a Druid from Tryfan, the Grove in Wales, England. Do you remember what it was like when they demonstrated Essence Magic?"

"I do." Her cousin retracted her hand and continued to observe Gwen's endeavour. Inches away from the crystalline contraption, Petra's Master likewise watched the growing intensity of the emerald cube with burning anticipation.

Gwen felt the last of her vital energy drop into the cube, then immediately acknowledged that something was wrong. A breathlessness of the soul claimed her body, as though she had sprinted up a hill and the air was too thin to sustain the oxygen she required to catch her breath.

Feeling a mild panic, she refocused her mind's eye. Slowly, the emerald motes inside her astral body restored themselves. However, through the trained synesthesia of her mind's eye, Gwen could sense that the motes were dimmer, weaker. Their recovery seemed almost a trickle where previously, the specks had pulsed to the rhythm of her heart.

Her body felt cold yet her mind felt flushed. She felt an absence between her breasts.

It was the Kirin Token.

A piece of her flesh.

An organ.

Could it be? Her mind revolted with agitation. Had she made a mistake? Should she have acted more selfishly?

"Gwen!" Petra grabbed her shoulders. "What's wrong? You're turning as white as a ghost! Is it the Void cube? Did you put too much vitality into filling it?"

"Give her a potion," Magister Wen drew a potion injector from a hidden drawer.

"No, no, I’m fine." Gwen looked past Petra, once again taking in her bearings.

Her body felt weak. She felt weak.

"Gwen, what's wrong?" Petra asked. "You don't look fine at all."

"Pats…" Gwen swallowed, forcing her quickened breath to return to a controlled cadence. "I think I might have made a big mistake."

Chapter twelve

Mixture and Admixtures

Stop moping over spilt milk." Petra's criticism was merciless. "Your amulet is gone, full stop."

"I know, I know," Gwen answered miserably. "I would have given it up anyway, I suppose. It caught me by surprise, that's all. The whole interaction with the vitae mana was passive. It's my fault I never noticed."

"Any chance I could convince Klavdiya to bring it in for some tests?" Magister Wen asked, her voice full of academic curiosity.

"I don't think Grandfather will consent to that," Gwen remarked wryly.

"Shame. The good news, I suppose," Magister Wen sighed, "is that you’ve found out now and not while you're in a dungeon or carrying out a quest. That would have been a disaster. At any rate, you shouldn't rely too much on items."

"So can you still cast Void spells safely?" Petra asked. "You're gonna need it for what you've planned for the next eighteen months."

"Yes, though recuperation is going to take much longer," Gwen said. "From my experience, there's a hard threshold as to how much Void matter I can channel before it begins to take a toll."

"Interesting. Can you clarify?" Wen asked from the other side of the bench. "What's the toll?"

"Drowsiness, nausea, fainting spells, crippling fatigue, anorexia," Gwen said.

"Sounds like symptoms of Negative Energy Drain,” Wen said. "How did you deal with this in the past?"

"I had a healer top me up while we fought," Gwen replied. "My friend Elvia had that position, then it was Mina, my cousin, who's currently studying to be a Cleric."

"Good grief!" Magister Wen winced. "The impact of elemental Affinity on the physical body is hardly like mixing hot and cold water. The abuse you must have endured!"

"I seemed to do alright," Gwen protested. "My late mentor, Magister Kilroy, had assured me of such."

"Magister Kilroy." Magister Wen changed the tone of her voice. "He was an absolute master of the craft! Even so, that’s no long-term solution."

"Grandmother healed my injuries when I came to Shanghai as well."

"I don't think high-tier Restorations, consuming hundreds of HDMs worth of materials, available only from military hospitals in capital cities, are going to help you in the Wildlands, on the Frontier, or during a six-month siege against the Undead." The Magister shook her head. "My dear, we need to find a way to make sure you stay in one piece."

"I won't say no to that." Gwen smiled weakly.

"Right, that settles it then. Petra, let's start."

"Yes, Master."

Gwen watched as Magister We set up the three crystalline cubes in a contraption that arrested the captive elements in midair. The constructed device looked as though the Magister had erected a holographic projection, within which were her three energised cubes of distinctly different mana.

"Petra, get Gwen a coat."

Petra dressed Gwen in a lab coat enchanted with Shielding, Elemental Absorption and Sterilisation glyphs.

Coming closer, Gwen could see the suspended spell cubes hovering over a triplicate of pins in a pattern she couldn't discern.

"This is an Allenberg-Erwin Elemental Spectrometer," Magister Wen told their novice research partner. "It'll visualise motes of elements injected into a suspension field simulating the Astral Plane. I’m going to test a few interactions. This way, we can get a better understanding of how your elements interact in an isolated plane."

Wen incanted an arcane command, allowing the Almudj cube and Lightning cube to each release several motes of mana. Unbidden, the primordial mana from the emerald cube met a mote of Lightning element midair in a volatile conjunction, then emitted a brilliant blast of emerald green.

"Barbanginy!" Gwen recognised the energy right away. "That's Almudj's lightning."

"B-ba-barga… Sorry." Magister Wen clearly couldn’t get her tongue around it on the first attempt. "The fabled, mythical serpent of Australis, no? A fascinating existence, to be sure. Extinct, in fact, anywhere humanity has made their domain. Your report was an equally fascinating read. For our interests, are you able to incant or summon this admixtured lightning? What did you call it?"

"Barb-an-gin-ny." Gwen allowed the word to roll off her tongue. "I don't think I can, to be honest. I can move the mana around in my astral form, congealing it for expulsion, but I can't work it into spells."

"Yet you've cast this Barbanginy before?"

"Once or twice before, yes, with Almudj's help." Gwen's voice grew low. Where was Almudj now? Asleep somewhere, maybe in Uluru, mayhap coiled up deep underground, perhaps resting upon a rainbow.

"Interesting. Maybe we can work towards that." Magister Wen jotted down a few notes onto a data slate. She then materialised a seed and floated it toward the centre of the spectrometer's suspension field. She guided it under the Almudj cube.

One incantation later, the seed took on a few motes of the emerald mana and sprouted, bursting into a small, inch-long vine.

"Master, that?" Petra held her hand to her lips.

"Oh yes." Wen grinned. "That's a Bolivian Stone Pear sprout."

"A dead seed."

Magister Wen looked upon Gwen with the eyes of a woman in love.

"Indeed, the seed was a sterilised specimen." Wen looked thoughtful. "The agricultural department would be over the moon. How much of this mana do you think you're able to synthesise?"

"About a single tier-two spell’s worth per day?" Gwen said. "At my current rate of recovery, likely less."

"A shame. It's not every day that we see Druidic Essence manifest in a human. Oh well, no use for agriculture then. Shame."

"Druidic Essence." Gwen mouthed to herself, finally finding a name for the phenomena.

With a word, Wen coaxed a few motes of Void matter and Life-matter into suspended motion. A second invocation brought out more specks of the emerald mana. Interestingly, the mana didn’t cancel each other out. Instead, they glided around one another as though two immiscible liquids were repelling at a molecular level.

"Wonderful, no?" Magister Wen spoke with great reverence. "This serpent mana of yours, it is not a raw, elemental force. It is an arcane compound, spell-shaped by a mythic being's will and intent, capable of restoration and growth."

The Magister produced another cube and injected a Positive Energy cloud coloured with a bright pink pigmentation into the controlled platform. "This is Positive mana from one of our Healers."

Like some ravening beast, the cloud of Void matter moved across the air. It struck the diffuse pinkness, feeding hungrily upon the energies of life until both elements faded into nothingness.

"Oh, dear." Gwen watched the spectacle with ominous comprehension.

"Indeed," the Magister stated with sagacity. "Gwen, your serpent's energy never did negate the damage done to your body by the Void. It was a shield first, a restorative second. For this reason, if you wish to maximise your Void output, heal after the fact, not during the channel."

"But I could feel myself draining the vitality provided by Healers when I cast Evocation and Conjuration." Gwen tried her best to recollect working with Mina and Elvia. "Surely, that would have neutralised my spells if the elements were mutually consumptive."

"For that, we must turn to further experimentation."

Wen introduced a new medium to the mix. A Creature Core floated into the midst of the levitation field.

"I've known items similar to the Kirin Amulet." Wen pointed at a floor-to-ceiling whiteboard where dozens of arcane formulas were written. "I hypothesise that this is the answer."

Wen introduced a mote of the Amuldj mana to the thumbnail-sized Creature Core, where it immediately entered the magical creature's remains, affecting an inner glow on the sphere. Then the Magister applied an Evocation glyph—a simple Bolt. The resulting energy was a blue-green arc of electricity that sizzled the air magnificently.

"That's Barbanginy!" Gwen uttered, impressed by the ease of the manifest.

But it was the next demonstration that astounded her. The core took within itself a mote of Void matter, then manifested a bolt of midnight-black lightning which whipped through the air and struck the protective pane of the shield behind the testing station, gouging a Lichtenberg-shaped scar across the force panes.

"That's…" Gwen said. "That's my Void bolt!"

"Now watch." Magister Wen set off half a dozen bolts in quick succession.

Crack!

The barrage of bolts ceased. The core shattered, and the trio watched the nucleus crumble.

"That's you." Magister Wen allowed the dust to settle around the spectrometer. "One can assume that before your Awakening in the Void, the amulet likely protected you somehow. After you acquired the serpent's Druidic Essence, it became less useful but remained a bulwark against ignorant abuses."

"So, I've lost a crutch?" Gwen said. "I've lost my emergency brakes?"

"A strange way to put it, but sure." Magister Wen twirled her stylus. "Gwen, describe your Void manifests before you obtained the serpent's energy."

"It was before the field trip, long before I knew the serpent existed," Gwen began. "The Awakening test was that day."

She told them of the first time she’d manifested the Void. She’d been in a park, feeling not very nice about life. There was a moment of darkness when she got a little too emotional; then she woke up a few hours later sans handbag and wallet.

The second significant event had been when she'd manifested it against Edgar. Her outburst had taken the Dust Mage's arm and leg, as well as half his face, but also took enough out of her to make her lose consciousness.

"What advice did the late Lord Kilroy give you?"

"To always have someone who could tap into the healing energies of the Positive Plane on hand and to feed off the vitality returned by spells," Gwen said. "When Caliban consumes enemies, I can feel it returning vitality to me. Sometimes when I use Evocation spells, I can also feel something akin to it, but it was never as distinct as using my Familiar."

Magister Wen jotted down notes as Gwen spoke. "Tell me about the dungeon again," she said. "Describe in detail what it was like."

“Well, when we fought the Gila…” Gwen attempted to frame the ethereal hunger that came with Void magic.

Magister Wen cross-examined Gwen's recount with great patience, nitpicking at minor details. "Good. Now we know generally how your Void magic functions in a practical sense." She recorded her findings enthusiastically. "I will make an appointment to use the university's Greater Cognisance Chamber right away, as well as order a few disposable magical beasts from the Conjuration department. I believe it would be in the interest of all of us to get to the bottom of this."

"Yes. Thank you so much." Gwen sat back in her seat, dazed, gazing at the set of suspended spell cubes holding her mana captive.

"It'll take a few hours to arrange. Go with Petra and arrange your lodgings. I would highly recommend trying to find something very close to campus. With your difficult condition and the amount of work you’ll be putting in, I would not be surprised if one of the students found you unconscious on the lawn."

"Yes, ma'am."

"We're trying." Petra sighed. "There's nothing within thirty minutes or so with reasonable prices or facilities. I’m going to take Gwen to the lower campus today, see if they have anything available there."

"I could always share with someone. There were a few of those available," Gwen said.

"Not safe, not with the number of secrets and talents you're holding. I'd imagine it wouldn't do your roommate any service either," Petra pointed out.

"Agreed." Wen nodded as well. "Should I intervene? You're going to get a lot of visitors once news of Fudan's Void Mage spreads around campus, and not all of them for kind reasons."

"We'll come to you if we're truly desperate, Master," Petra said.

"Good. Why don't you girls get some fresh air? Take Gwen through the gardens to see if that helps her recovery." Magister Wen showed them the door. "Don't take up space if you're not here to work. Gwen, maybe it is best if you stay with Petra for now."

"There's also Richard," Gwen reminded the Magister politely.

"He's a young man in a tier-one city. He would prefer you not looking over his shoulder, trust me." Magister Wen seemed to misread Gwen's concern. "I'll Message you when the chamber is ready. Meet me at the Yifu Spellcraft Building, expect me at 1400 or so."

"Um, we're not like that," Gwen noted with dismay, but the Magister wasn't listening; she was already in the midst of a Message with the Yifu administration staff.

"Let's go," Petra said, helping Gwen out of her coat, promising a lovely luncheon to restock Gwen's spent reserves.

"Miss Kuznetsova!"

To their amazement, a pudgy NoM in a tailored suit was waiting for them at the entrance of the Henglong laboratory.

"Manager Xie?" Petra looked surprised to see the balding NoM. Xie looked as though he’d run from the eastern campus in one breath; even with the cooling glyph on his blazer, the man was sweltering from head to toe.

"Thank Mao I caught you both. I would hate to have intruded. Have you found a home?"

"Nope. Still homeless." Gwen replied, studying the man as he mopped his face with a handkerchief. "Did you have unexpected vacancies?"

"You're as good as a Diviner! And goodness, it was difficult to get a hold of you, Miss Kuznetsova." The NoM laughed.

"I’m not fond of unsolicited Messages," Petra stated coolly. "But allow me to apologise. What's the matter?"

"I've got two apartments opened up just this morning. Both of the tenants have just terminated their lease. As a result, I've got vacancies at B1–2203 and 2204."

Petra knitted her exquisitely arched brows.

"Building 1–level 22, suite 03 and 04?" Gwen made a face. "They sound expensive."

Manager Xie's face split from ear to ear. "Due to the emergency nature of the vacancy, the owner has requested that the rooms be occupied as soon as possible. As such, they are willing to accept rental well below the market value."

"How much?" Petra asked.

"Seventy-five HDMs for the two-bedroom 2203, and fifty HDMs for the single."

"That's…"

"What's with those prices?" Gwen asked. According to her research the night before, the prices drastically increased once they got closer to campus. The rooms should be fetching at least one hundred and forty to two hundred HDMs.

"I am simply offering what the owner has requested." Manager Xie mopped the sweat from his brow with a handkerchief. "Would you like to inspect the rooms?"

"Right now?" Gwen asked, curious as to their strange turn of fortune. In her experience, there was bound to be something wrong with the property if the owners were so eager for tenants. Would she find the place infested with vermin? Or the previous tenants had left it in a mess or destroyed some of the vanities? Maybe the owners had been laundering money through the rental income and couldn’t let the cash flow cease. Or, knowing this world, the apartment was haunted.

"Of course, if you'll follow me. It's only a kilometre or so across the campus. B1 is the first building in the new students’ quadrant. We should be able to see it as soon as we pass Guoshun Road."

"Petra?"

Petra looked sceptical as well. "Let's see for ourselves then," her cousin said. "I've got a See Invisibility cube. Let's see if we can run a Detect Magic through the place. Can you cast Detect Traps?"

As they arrived at Building 1, they saw a team of NoMs moving furniture from the lifts.

"03 and 04 should be undergoing a thorough cleaning," Manage Xie explained.

"Already?" Gwen was impressed by Xie's zealous professionalism. Even in her world, such regard for customer service was rare.

"The owner was very insistent," Xie said.

They entered the lobby of the luxury apartment block, where a dumbfounded-looking young man was sitting on several suitcases. When Manager Xie came inside with the girls in tow, the young man's face abruptly turned a shade of beetroot. He gave the girls a look of pure loathing, but just as Gwen was ready to take unsolicited abuse, he left.

"What was all that about?" Gwen asked. "That was the old tenant, right?"

"He was," Xie replied.

"Why is he leaving?"

"Who knows?" Manager Xie smiled at the girls with his usual amiability, his face folding until his eyes were thin, happy lines. "Perhaps a family emergency?"

The levitation platform took the girls up toward the twenty-second floor. When the door opened, they were met by a riot of activity from a dozen cleaning staff and removalists.

"Careful! careful!" A young woman was directing a piano out of what appeared to be 2203. She turned to regard the trio when their elevator pinged.

"I would say hello neighbours, but I’m leaving." The girl hummed mirthfully. "I hope you enjoy your stay here. It's a wonderful place to finish the years at Fudan, assuming you get to stay until you graduate."

Before Gwen could answer, the parallel levitation platform pinged.

"That would be our other ex-tenant," Xie noted with the same care as one having spotted a mildly interesting pot plant. "Which apartment would you like to see first?"

"The two-bedder." Gwen pointed to 2203. For seventy-five HDMs, it was a steal. Whatever was happening, she felt inclined to take advantage of it. Furthermore, if the apartment turned out to be not haunted by the ghosts of restless indigenous spirits, she would entertain a bold proposal for Petra.

The trio passed the removalists and found themselves embroiled in NoMs scrubbing the carpet, dressing new drapes, and fervently scouring the kitchen.

"Maybe now isn’t the best time." Manager Xie looked around the controlled chaos of bodies busily at work, refitting the kitchen. "Forgive me for my blunder."

"It's fine." Gwen walked through the room and took in the breathtaking view of the skyline. At level 22, she could see the entirety of Fudan's campus. The only taller buildings within her immediate view were the Fudan Towers. When she turned to the right, she could see the second PLA hospital at Wujianchang, followed by the urban sprawl of Buildings 2 to 25. To her left, the Second Orbital Highway shot into the heart of the city, where the PLA Tower's superstructure loomed like a perched spider across the webwork of crisscrossing highways.

The apartment was not ultra-modern like Mina's Waldorf suite. It was what she expected from a property developed for profit over style. The living room was a rectangular extension of about twenty square metres, just enough to fit a three-person couch and a vid-caster. There was an independent bathroom next to a laundry, renovated with wood-patterned tiles. The open kitchenette was a modest assemblage beside the entrance, with just enough space to cook meals for one or two, with a built-in refrigerator fitted into the glossy white polyurethane panelling. Its two bedrooms were spacious and clean, with deep built-in wardrobes and enough room for a queen-sized bed, a single sideboard and an ergonomic desk.

"It's perfect." Beyond all expectations, they had arrived at the Goldilocks Zone. The apartment was not overly luxurious, it was close to campus, and it was within a price range she and Richard could afford.

"Excellent. Shall I prepare the contract?" Manager Xie implored them hastily, as though he had expected her affirmation. "Your option is for annual or quarterly leases, though the annual contract has a smaller fee for breaking your rental agreement."

"You don't need to perform a credit-rating check?" Gwen asked the eager-faced manager suspiciously.

"I’m sure we can trust LCSS candidates not to flee the city, ha!"

"Gwen." Her cousin tugged on her sleeve.

"Yeah, Pats?" Gwen turned to her cousin.

Petra took her to one side with a look of secrecy. "I’m going to run some Detection spells while you check the contract. Do you know how to read a rental agreement?"

"Of course." Gwen flipped back a few strands of loose hair. "I've rented before."

Petra nodded and produced Divination based spell cubes, clearly convinced that something had to be wrong with the apartment. Her cousin allowed an array of Detection spells to manifest and went about examining every nook and cranny.

Gwen turned to the manager. "Manager Xie, may I inquire as to the possibility of subletting to Miss Kuznetsova or perhaps taking out the rental on a twin-share?"

Xie hesitated only for a moment. "The Wess-M-Rutherford Property Group welcomes Miss Kuznetsova. If she so wishes to join you in leasing the apartment, I shall further terminate her existing B3-703 contract without penalty."

"That's very kind of you." Gwen felt a sudden closeness to the man. "Why Manager Xie, I had thought you the kind to preserve every penny in the company's cache."

"I am but a humble purveyor of residential space." Manager Xie stepped back and bowed gingerly. "The customer's word, contractually obliged, is Mao's dictum. Besides, who would refute austere customers such as yourself, Mr Huang and Miss Kuznetsova?"

Gwen cocked her head at the smiling manager.

"I spoke to a few colleagues and became well-informed of your noble bearing," Xie confessed humbly. "I ask for generosity and forgiveness if you are offended."

"Not at all. Let's see this contract then. Strike while the iron is hot." Gwen wasn't sure why the owner of the property was so breathlessly eager to have it rented out so quickly, but if her old life had taught her anything about renting, it was that there were no second chances to snap up a bargain.

Once Petra returned, Xie materialised a short novella titled the WMR Property Group Tenancy Agreement. Gwen flipped through it like an old hand at shuffling poker, observing the usual clauses and by-clauses.

"Please take your time."

Except for the prohibition of magic usage that would affect the property in any way, the rest of the agreement was distinctly similar to what she would have expected in her old world. The rent of seventy-five HDMs per month included mana conduit, heating and water. There was even the option of taking out a parking spot, though neither Gwen nor Petra drove.

Petra leaned in with a face full of puzzlement. "It's clean." She met Gwen's eyes with a nod of assurance. She then looked out the expansive bedroom window thoughtfully. "What a pleasant view."

"Pats." Gwen pulled her closer, asserting that if her cousin should desire, they could take up a co-rental agreement and share the apartment. To her knowledge a chunk of Petra’s grant had gone to her accomodations.

"That's wonderful!" Petra looked surprised and delighted by Gwen's offer. "Are you sure?"

"Of course. We can share the rental costs and have safety in numbers, right? I would feel so much safer with you and Dick here. Not to mention we can save on food costs, energy, the whole shebang."

"Alright." Petra nodded. "I’m in. I think Master would prefer it as well."

"Alright, roomies!" Gwen held her cousin's hand a danced a quick jig before collecting herself. "I’m still going through the contract, one moment."

Gwen returned her attention to the legal gobbledegook.

"13.13 and 13.14," she pointed out after a few minutes spent in silence. "Are we responsible for environmental damage resulting from self-defence?"

"If an arbitrator deems yourself to have lawfully defended yourself, then no. The offender, in this case, will be responsible for all incurred costs."

"And if they’re dead?" Gwen raised her brow.

"D-dead?" Xie seemed caught off-guard by Gwen's composure. "You would fight to the death?"

Gwen looked at Petra quizzically. Did Mages in the tier one cities kiss and hug after they are defeated? Did assailants apologise and offer compensation? She could imagine a confrontation in the Frontier ending with the two parties shaking it off and reconvening for another go on a better day.

"Er… fatalities are very rare in tier-one cities," Petra explained. "Crimes are rarely violent. The entirety of Shanghai is within the Teleportation range of the Special Spells and Tactics Unit. Even if someone escapes, there's little chance they'll flee the tender attention of the MSS or the Diviners of the Major Crimes Unit."

Gwen blinked. Cops? Calling the police? What a revelation! She had been so enamoured in the bloodsport of the Frontier that she hadn’t considered that there was actual law enforcement in Shanghai. But then again, it was evident that a police force had to exist. How else was the city going to keep a lid on the boiling mass of egos that simmered beneath the facade of congeniality? For every Mage willing to contractually engage in a lawful duel, there would be at least three who preferred ambush. As with all metropolises, only a greater force hammering down with the cold steel mallet of brute justice could offset the natural tendency for flouting the social contract.

If she ran into trouble in Shanghai, all she had to do was call the cops.

"Everything seems in order," Gwen said to Petra. "There's three months deposit as a bond paid upfront. I've got the amount on me right now."

"You can seriously read that elf-speak?" Petra gazed upon Gwen with renewed awe.

Gwen realised she couldn't possibly affect a conceivably believable excuse. "It's not a difficult read. The Ioun Stone takes care of the heavy lifting."

"Well, if you can read that and understand it, we should be able to complete Goulding's Core Primer within three weeks."

"Let me give Richard a call." Gwen activated the Message function on her device and dialled Richard's glyph.

"Gwen?"

"Rich, I found a place to stay five to ten minutes from the campus. Single dwelling, high up, relatively new facilities. Fifty HDMs a month, next door to Petra and me. What do you think?"

"Crickey, that's a good price. Sign me up. You and Petra, huh?"

"Yeah. We're going to be roomies. I'll send you Manager Xie's contact and address. I'll put down your deposit now."

"No worries then, I'll go see him later. Fix you up later."

"Cheers. Oh yeah, I'll be with Master Wen and Pats in the arvo, so I'll be late."

"Yeah, alright. Give us a shout if you need help."

Gwen ended the Message.

"Here." Manager Xie passed over a gilded fountain pen. "I'll have it ready by the weekend, two days from now. Please inform the strata if you wish to have heavy furniture moved. You can call me anytime, and I mean anytime, if you have any enquiries."

Gwen placed her initials on each page before signing at the front and back. Petra cosigned beside her in a second column. A receipt glyph signalled Manager Xie's receivership of their deposits, then the matter was concluded.

"There will be some noise as the top floor is undergoing renovations," Manager Xie informed them after the fact. "There may be some noise for the first week or so, between nine am and six pm each day."

"That's fine. I don't have any furniture, at least not yet. Pats?"

"I can borrow a storage ring from Master."

"Alright." Gwen turned to Xie and the trio shook hands. "A pleasure working with you, Manager Xie. I look forward to moving in very soon."

The girls returned to Magister Wen just before two, meeting the emerald-eyed Mineral Mage by the Yi-Fu Spellcraft Building, another renovated piece of ageing brutalist architecture that had survived the eons. Thanks to the l-shaped construction and the soaring foyer, the white-on-salmon palette loved by the university slowly grew on Gwen.

Within the elongated section of the west wing were the Cognisance Chambers, ranging in size from a studio to an auditorium. As a head researcher at Fudan, Wen had the privilege of perusing the chambers at will. She commandeered a chamber approximately the size of an indoor soccer field.

"How serendipitous," Magister Wen replied when Petra told her of the development on their property hunt. "Take care of her, Petra. Gwen is very precious to us."

They were met in the chamber by a woman who looked to be in her mid-twenties but had the bearing of someone much older. "Magus Mai Kumiko, Assistant Professor, Department of Conjuration," The woman said, bowing.

It was the first time Gwen had seen a Japanese person in Shanghai. Both the city and the country had bad blood with the island nation thanks to the Sino Conflict in the 1950s, not to mention that the PLA had built its roots around castigating the Japanese "threat", so it was a surprise to see a Dai-Nippon national in the flesh. "It's nice to meet you."

The Conjurer had light brown eyes adorning a face blessed with a tender complexion, framed by a shoulder-length bob woven with auburn highlights. Her bearing and posture were posed and controlled, elegantly upheld by a hip-hugging skirt and a white blouse accessorised with a red ribbon tie.

"Mai's teaching the supplementary Conjuration class," Wen told Gwen. "You'll likely see each other again very soon."

"I'll be in your care," Gwen said.

"More like I'll be in yours, Miss Song," Mai said. "I am very much interested in your Familiars. Especially the Caliban."

"I'll do my best not to disappoint." Gwen flashed the instructor a confident smile.

There was a thrum as mana crystals clinked into place, then the room fell into darkness. A gradual light began to circulate until the floor became a mirror plane, reminding her of the lessons taught by her Master. Stunned by the spectacle, Gwen fought back an onslaught of nostalgic melancholy and turned her attention toward the reflection underfoot.

"Let's begin," Magister Wen said impatiently beside them. "Alright, let's witness what has the masterful Deathless Henry so enamoured.”

Chapter thirteen

Skinner's Box

“Well, that was an unfortunate slip of the tongue," Magister Wen apologised to her.

“It’s alright,” Gwen replied politely. It wasn’t Wen’s fault that Gwen's Master had held a peculiar title.

"Uwa!" a strange exclamation issued from Mai, dispelling the awkwardness set up by Wen's lacklustre apology. "Dual-element. Oppositional too. What is that green mana? Triple-element?"

"Just some Druidic Essence, dear." Magister Wen said. "Save your shock, Mai, else we'll be here all day."

"Incredible!" Mai examined Gwen's Astral projection with the likeness of a watchmaker probing a Patek Nautilus. "Beyond incredible. Usually, isn't this impossible?"

"Magus Kumiko," Magister Wen snapped at the Conjurer.

"Forgive me." Mai bowed politely and retreated behind Magister Wen, demurely assuming her place.

"Mai, proceed."

"Onibi!" A vivid surge of ochre mana manifested around the Conjurer. A glowing bushel of ghostly flame floated before Gwen's instructors, casting a ring of yellow-orange illumination around the trio. Gwen felt life energy cascading from the summoned spirit like a fount opened into the Positive Elemental Plane.

A Positive Conjurer! And from the looks of it, a Creature Mage. Gwen stopped herself from reaching out to touch the hovering flame. To think she would see a spirit from that exalted plane of Positive Energy, an existence too rare for her Frontier origins.

"Is that a Lantern Sprite?” she asked.

"Yes, but not a spirit, unfortunately." The Japanese Conjurer caught Gwen's eye. "Onibi is a form of spirit-lantern from my homeland. When I manifested my Familiar, it came to me."

"Amazing. What does it do?"

Magus Kumiko responded by activating her Sprite. "Healing Circle!"

In Gwen's astral reflection, she could see a stream of Positive Energy issuing from her body, becoming tethered to the lantern.

"A countermeasure," Magister Wen noted dutifully beside them. "I would be lying if I said our experimentation wouldn't tax you. Let me warn you again, Gwen. Knowing your true potential isn't going to be a pleasant jog across Fudan."

"I understand." Gwen turned to her seniors brightly. "If this is the cost of knowledge, then I'll pay it gladly."

"That's the spirit." Wen nodded approvingly. "Now, let's start with the basics. Give me a repertoire of your spells, starting with Lightning."

"Yes, ma'am!" Gwen replied, sensing that her teacher was just as excited as she was. After taking a deep breath, she redoubled her focus, closed her eyes, then began to pick at the walls of reality, readying her body for the manifestation of sorcerous phenomena.

"Guiding Bolt! Flash Bang! Lightning Blast! Lightning Gasp! Taser! Lightning Bolt! Blade! Warding Bolt! Call Lightning!"

Once she hit the fourth-tier spells, the mental and physical exertion grew palpable. It wasn't so much that she was running out of mana, for her pool was almost double or triple the average Mage, but that her chants and calculations induced immense mental stress without allowance for the cooling down of her cognitive faculties.

Gritting her teeth and wishing to show Magister Wen her conviction, Gwen redoubled her efforts. "Lightning Tentacles! Morden's Faithful Hound! Dimension Door!"

Gwen felt her body being shunted through space. Staggering a little, she turned to face her audience. Under the refractory light of the Cognisance Chamber, she saw the milk-white complexion of her arms glow with luminance, occasionally flashing blue from the sparks striking the floor.

Petra, Mai and Magister Wen regarded one another with astonished faces.

"Did we just witness Morden's Faithful Hound?" Mai's voice shook. "That spell involves Evocation, Conjuration and Transmutation all at once. How's that possible? Also, why is her Dimension Door offensive? How did she trigger a Lightning Nova on exit? Her incantations! The mana channels! Are they all signature sorcery?"

"Fascinating indeed." Magister Wen furiously ran her fingers over her data slate. "Petra, did you know of this?"

Petra shook her head. "Only recently. I was informed that several of her key spells were hand-taught by her Master."

"So they are signature spells?" Mai looked as though she could burst into song. "Those Conjuration incantations are original?"

"Especially Morden's Hound. Did you know the Tower no longer has a version that allows for elemental shifting?" Wen slid a finger across the slate violently. "These were taught to you personally, Gwen?"

"By Master Kilroy, yes." Gwen dispelled her persistent effect Conjurations to conserve mana.

"Mao…" Magister Wen shook her head. "All that knowledge lost."

"Hold on, Ki-e-ru-i?" Magus Kumiko spluttered beside them. "Magister Kilroy? Henry Kilroy? Master of Ordo Arcana?"

"The same. He passed in March, in Sydney. You recall, right? We watched the vid-cast on the news."

"Uwa." Mai turned to Gwen, then bowed from the waist. "I am very sorry, Gwen. I was inconsiderate."

"It's alright, Magus." Gwen stifled the shuddering in her chest. Who'd have thought? She knew her Master had had deep roots, but Henry clearly had a great deal of clout even in an entirely unrelated region of the world. But then again, when Gwen considered her Master's other disciples, such as the Scarlet Sorceress, famed and feared across Oceania, capable of going toe to toe with Magisters twice her age, and his other student, the Morning Star, who could singlehandedly handle a Leviathan, it was she who lacked the correct perspective.

"Gwen, let us move on. Your Familiar, please." Wen's emotions quickly returned to their usual coolness.

Gwen nodded. "Ariel!"

A blast of lightning struck the floor. Ariel materialised with its tail in the air, striking a pose. "EE—EE!"

The little marten appeared more girthy than before, now reaching the height of Gwen's thighs. From its round face, its dark eyes glimmered intelligently. After the Eland Core, Gwen felt that her Familiar appeared more robust than before.

"EE—EE!" Ariel proudly showed off two cute little horns that now protruded like spiralled triangles from its head. Thank God! Gwen praised the higher power above. If Ariel had met Tao's prophesy, she wouldn't know where to hide her face.

"Your Familiar is beyond adorable," Magus Kumiko gushed. She dropped to one knee. "Hey there, Ariel. How are you?"

"EE—EE!" Ariel looked at Gwen for permission. Gwen gave her consent.

Ariel leapt toward Mai and rolled over onto its belly, flashing its soft fur. When Mai stroked the creature, it caused arcs of electricity to spark away from the marten spectacularly.

"What a wonderful Familiar." Mai had none of the distant demeanour of Magister Wen.

Not far from her aide, Magister Wen rolled her eyes.

"Very well. Let's see the Void element. Mai, get ready. Just as we discussed," Magister Wen commanded.

"Yes, Magister."

Gwen returned to the centre of the room. "I am beginning." She aimed for the other far side, where walls of force were in place to absorb the impact of her spells.

"Void Bolt! Warding Bolt! Call Void Lightning!"

Gwen had only used her Void Element for the Call Lightning once when they’d ambushed the Elder Gila. The sustained channel from the self-guided bolts consumed both mana and vitality, making the spell ineffective except for extreme measures when damage output had to be maximised.

In her present condition, two spells at tier three were her limit.

After another volley of Void Lightning, Gwen felt her vitality wane. Without a cache of the Druidic Essence, the volatile element would soon begin to consume her body.

"Are you able to continue?" Magister Wen spoke from behind her. "Magus Kumiko has you in safe hands, I assure you."

Gwen resumed her efforts. "Dark Tentacles!" When the final invocation left her lips, a sudden flurry of writhing Void matter erupted like a blossom of obsidian sea anemones, radiating a wave of nauseating vertigo across the chamber.

Onibi glimmered, fortifying Gwen and her observers.

"Mao!" Magister Wen stepped around the manifestation, examining it with great interest. "Fascinating. See here how the Void coils around a tear in space. Likewise, the prehensile nature of the tentacles is far different from the normal variant. Yours is almost like a living thing."

Perhaps sensing Wen's presence, a few of the tentacles reached for her body. Gwen mentally attempted to stifle the tentacles' furore. Naturally, the flailing limbs ignored her, for her dumb spell was not capable of differentiating between friend or foe.

Without effort, Magister Wen manifested a crystalline shield and allowed one of the tentacles to touch the mineral barrier. Gwen felt the contact hotly in her astral body, then felt more of her vitality drain as the tendrils dug into Wen's creation.

"Incredible penetrative power." Wen jotted down more notes as the tentacle whittled down her shielding. "Excellent against hard shields. Now, let’s try something incorporeal. Shield!"

With a new invocation, the crystalline shell of Magister Wen's Mineral Shield gave way to a transparent mana barrier. This time, the tentacles thrashed against the invisible forcefield without penetrating its exterior.

"How curious." Wen took more notes. "Ironically, a low-density shield can halt the corrosive Void matter."

Gwen felt her breathing becoming easier while Wen made her notes. Behind her, a steady stream of Positive Energy fed gently into her torso. She could see the conduits at work, smothered by the blazing glare from her own astral body. She had seen the same phenomenon manifested when Sufina had been in Magus Kumiko's place, channelling a steady stream of life force as she’d trained, repeating spell after spell. Compared to the meagre Onibi, however, Sufina was far more nourishing, and both paled against Almudj's blessing, but Sufina's embrace had felt motherly and warm.

"Keep the spell up, Gwen," the Magister commanded.

Gwen quickly stabilised her output. Her instructor came close and studied the reflection of Gwen's astral body underfoot. There was an astonishing exchange happening below. Within the projection of her metaphysical body, the ink-like movement of the Void matter soaked in the Positive Energy before exiting through her palms and manifesting some distance away as a blossom of grasping tendrils.

"So the Void can directly convert healing energy into life-matter for the host body?" Wen studied the phenomenon. "Gwen, try activating your Druidic Essence."

Gwen spared as much concentration as she could to command the emerald motes to move. Unfortunately, they would not manifest even when she gritted her teeth and grunted with exertion.

"I can't." Gwen huffed after another exhaustive attempt. "They're not activating."

"Hmm, how about Lightning?" Petra asked helpfully. "As counter-elements, they should disrupt one another, but what if you could somehow counter the effect of the Void-drain with the positive aspect of Lightning?"

"Maybe it's worth a try." Gwen closed her eyes and tapped into the Quasi-Elemental Gate of Lightning.

Wen looked like she was about to say something but stopped herself.

A torrent of pale-blue mana surged throughout Gwen's astral form. "Arrrrgh!" Gwen felt as though stricken with a sudden blow to her temples. She involuntarily staggered back as a burst of radiant energy flared from her torso, forcing the Void matter to surge in all directions. The force of the sudden expulsion caused her to fall onto her buttocks, stunned by the volatility of the elemental cocktail.

The dark tentacle dissipated.

"EE—!" Ariel ran to her and began to lick her hand frantically.

"Oh my God! Gwen, are you alright?" Petra knelt beside her as she orientated herself. "Are you alright?"

With the ringing still in her head, Gwen couldn't find the words to speak.

"Forgive me. That was my mistake," Magister Wen said stiffly. "I should have stopped you."

The Magister produced a spell cube so chock-full of Positive Energy the shell positively hummed. "Greater Restoration!"

The healing energy of the upper-tier spell struck Gwen and cooled her Void fever like a bucket of ice. She felt her mind clear and her flesh mend. She looked dazedly at Petra and her two instructors, one worried and the other furiously engrossed in her notes.

Petra hadn’t known what would happen, Gwen acknowledged with a chill, but her Master had. From now on, incidents such as these would be the price of Wen's knowledge. Should she refuse?

Gwen told herself she should not.

She also wanted answers, and if a bit of skin off her back was the price, then so be it.

"Let's take a break, shall we?" Magister Wen suggested.

"I can continue." Gwen pushed herself off the floor. "Let's continue. We need to summon Caliban next, right?"

The three women nodded.

"I’m not sure how well I can control it."

"You're in safe hands," Magister Wen assured her. "So is your Familiar. At worst, it’s nothing a Force Cage or a Stasis can't resolve."

Petra nodded confidently at Gwen, affirming her Magister's confidence.

"Here goes…" Gwen closed her eyes and called out for Caliban, rousing her monster into consciousness from the tenebrous embrace of her astral womb. Caliban had not expected a call from its Master so soon, and the opportunity to once again taste the delicious air of the Material Plane filled its lamprey's maws with delight.

Instantly, Gwen's astral projection turned dark as crow skin and black as pitch. The gathered Mages watched as the Void matter drained from her astral projection, taking with it the meagre glow of the Druidic Essence that was only now beginning to recover. A tear formed in the space above them, then like a monstrous obsidian placenta, a toad-thing slid from the gap between planes and landed with a wet plop between them.

Gwen’s blood turned to ice before the stream of gentle healing returned her vitality.

Two sharp intakes of breath punctuated the chamber. While both Kumiko and Wen had been told accounts of the Void-toad, seeing the damnable creature metres away in the flesh still possessed the full impact of gazing upon a dreadful nightmare. Gwen felt her nerves falter, for Caliban's gaze was like the abyss, only now the proverbial Void was sniffing the air and turning its faceless mien towards them.

"Caliban, heel," Gwen commanded, forcing her voice from her lips as the supply of Positive Energy intensified. Fuzzily, she felt the invigorating energy gently keeping her upright. What Wen had said was true. Compared to Mina or Elvia's rough healing, Kumiko's subtlety was far more capable of reinforcing her health.

"Shaa! Shaa!" Caliban's hulking form stalked here and there. Ariel playfully ran up the trunk of its massive, triangular torso and rested on the faceless head, dancing a jig. Caliban groped for its long-term nemesis and sent the playful marten skittering away.

"Caliban, stay." Gwen willed her creature to tarry.

Caliban turned to regard its Master, its pores breathing in her scent.

"Please?"

With the sound of something slithering from a gash or an open wound, it opened its lamprey's mouth, ejecting twin lengths of tentacle tongues from its maw. One was blue, and the other was red.

"Steady… steady…" Gwen reached out and touched one of the tentacles, guiding it away from her with her hand before petting Caliban's faceless head.

"Shaa. Shaa." Caliban refocused its senses toward the source of Positive Energy behind her.

"No. That's a friend." Gwen informed her toad-minion. "Not for eating."

"Shaa. Shaa," Caliban protested. Onibi, Gwen suspected, must appear very delicious. "SHAA!"

"If you're not going to be a gentleman, I am putting you back!" Gwen warned her Familiar, scalding it with everything she had. She pictured dispelling the creature and felt Caliban hesitate. Then like a devious cat, it tried to move past her for a better look. Just a glance, it empathically told her, nothing else.

"SHAA!" Caliban batted her aside, though gently, with the two tentacles that were the girth and size of her arm.

Gwen pushed back. "I said no." She gripped one of the tentacles and used it to rein Caliban's face away from Onibi. "Heel."

"Shaa!" Caliban made a token struggle, neither willing to forfeit a meal or ignore Gwen completely.

Beside the Master and creature, Petra, Magister Wen and Magus Kumiko watched the spectacle with their lips hanging limply.

"That's…" Kumiko turned white as a sheet. "Is that a Death Gila?"

"It's a Void beast in the morphic form of a Red Gila," Petra pointed out. "Gwen's creature seems to be able to tap into her Transmutation talent at the point of its summons. So far, I've seen it as a snake, a spider and this thing. Maybe it can turn into more forms. I don't know."

"Blessed Yamatai." Magus Kumiko eyed her Onibi nervously. "Onibi is going to be okay, right? That thing looks… hungry."

The two women turned to Wen. Petra's Master was positively quaking with delight. When she spoke, her voice erupted as a torrent. "A Void beast! A living, walking, hungering Void beast! Petra, do you know what this means? We shall be the first to document the habitation and physiology of a shapeless, formless thing in the flesh. The first since Sobel. Accreditations for the Meistership, fallen from the sky! Mao, I owe Klavdiya favours I cannot possibly repay. A paper on the Void beast. Another upon the properties of Void magic! Another and another on the impacts of Void sorcery on its users. We'll be publishing for years!"

"I’m sure Gwen will be happy to help out, Master." Petra looked at Gwen with a face full of apology.

Gwen fought down her nausea, not entirely unhappy that Wen was so stoked but unable to fight off the sinking feeling in her gut.

"Of course, I’m getting ahead of myself." Magister Wen recovered by laughing dryly. "Oh, Petra. We have to take care of your cousin. She is far more precious than you know."

"I know." Petra reached her side, then moved back when Caliban tried to give her a hearty lick.

"Mai, have you readied the summons I asked for?"

Magus Kumiko turned to the Magister nervously. "We're feeding that thing?"

"Aren't you curious?" Wen's eyes were two glowing orbs of scintillating emeralds. "We're the first Mages to witness in detail the workings of the Void since that girl's Master, Henry Kilroy, aided in forming the Tower system with the help of his wife."

Magus Kumiko checked her storage ring. "Of course, Magister. I am ready."

"Gwen," Magister Wen called out. "Is Caliban ready to feed?"

Gwen concurred as she fought Caliban off Onibi. Her Familiar was now salivating globs of grey-goo saliva large enough to form a sizeable puddle on the floor. Silently, she wept for her soiled dress. "Just in case, Caliban might get a little excited. So please take care of me and try not to hurt it."

"We'll do our best," Petra promised.

Behind the girls, Magister Wen was aglow with an array of borrowed Divination magic. Her body had pen poised and slate steady, readying herself to become the first to bear witness to the inner workings of a Void Mage first-hand.

Magus Kumiko stepped forward. With a wave of her hand, she released several glyph-stones that shot from her ring toward the ground ten or so metres from Gwen. The stones landed erect, then conjured forth an octagram pattern that extended around each invocation until a silvery mandala grew visible.

"Summon Magical Beast!"

The mandala burst into silvery flames. Unlike Conjuration spells, Summon spells tore creatures from the Elemental Planes into the Prime Material, whether willing or not. Before casting such a complicated spell, extensive research was necessary. Hosts, even swarms of helpful magical creatures, could be contracted if they were intelligent. But if the need was dire, unintelligent creatures could be effectively abducted at random by summoners if they had set up corresponding compulsions. Magus Kumiko now manifested such a spell, unsuspecting Elementals dragged kicking and screaming by their Creature Cores through space and time.

A silvery flash of mana splashed across the Cognisance Chamber. When the mandala had burned out, a confused dog-thing sniffed its surroundings. The creature resembled a tremendous hound of some sort, with bat ears and small, red, beady eyes that glowed like motes of cinder. Its maw drooled, while a protruding line of distended spines ran the length of its back to end in a tail that resembled a whip.

"A Blink Dog." Mai frowned. “Not dangerous, but adept at fleeing.”

"Dimension Anchor!” Beside her, Magister Wen was far faster than her fellow Magus. A professor skilled in both Abjuration and Conjuration, the Magister immediately disabled the phasing ability of the fabled Blink Dog, sealing its fate as Caliban's snack.

Caliban turned to Gwen with its faceless head. Gwen urged her Familiar forward.

"SHAAAAAA!" Caliban turned to the dog and charged.

"GRRR!" The Blink Dog charged at Caliban in turn.

At the moment of their meeting, the dog turned aside and took out a chunk of Caliban's soft, rubbery flesh.

Gwen winced.

Caliban turned its ponderous body toward the dog and lashed out with its limbs.

The dog's Blink ability must have possessed a cooldown, for this time, it was swiped by two claws the length and girth of harvest-scythes, impaling it through the left lumbar.

The creature coughed up a lungful of blood as Caliban lifted it into the air and moved it toward its maw.

"Yip! Yip! Hhunnnn" The dog's whimper grew weaker as Caliban's twin tongue wrapped around the creature and crushed its ribs.

"Cali, CONSUME!" Gwen made a move before the opportunity wasted itself. Once more, her astral body turned darker than black, forming a visible line of Void matter that fed into Caliban as the creature bulged and engorged with mana. With a shake of its massive shoulder, Caliban reared back and opened its lamprey's mouth, widening until all musculature and bone seemed to distend to accommodate its abyssal maw.

There was a sound of suction, then the yipping dog was gone.

"Oh." Gwen felt a sudden, unexpected surge of vitality. "What…" The exchange came on like a sudden summer squall. A wave of indescribable pleasure, a feeling of satiation she could barely begin to comprehend, filled her mind and muted all thoughts. She trembled from the sudden euphoria as, in the span of several breaths, all the vitality that had made the dog a living, breathing magical creature passed through her body.

She had never consciously experienced the aftermath of Consume, not like this. Not when she’d trained with her Master, not when Caliban had fed on the NoMs and the Mages, not when it had assailed the Elder Gila. Was it because of Caliban's new ability? Was that the root of this euphoric exaltation of satiation? Or was it because of her missing appendage, her pound of flesh that she had traded away to Percy to dismantle Guo's shackles?

For several seconds caught in time, Gwen forgot to breathe.

"STOP!" a voice resounded beside her. "Gwen, stop your Familiar."

Chapter fourteen

Queries and Answers

Gwen returned to reality to see Caliban scraping its long claws against a crystalline wall, headbutting the barrier and drooling grey goo all over the transparent pane.

"Gwen," Petra called out, "get your frog under control."

The Mages were in no danger, Gwen realised, but there was something to be said about a three-metre Lovecraftian monstrosity bashing at one's shield with nails the length of a man's arm.

"Caliban, to me!" Gwen said.

When the "Consume" had taken place, she had momentarily lost her reins on Cali. On a Familiar less inclined to act on instinct, it would have stood still as a statue. On Caliban, however, it meant the netherworld fiend had begun to seek out its next meal.

It was one of the peculiarities of her Familiars. They weren't spirits, but they weren't soulless shells either. Neither was stupid and both actively sought out delicious treats.

Sniffing the air for mana, Caliban could sense the fount of vitality that was Mai Kumiko. Gwen could feel that her beastie didn't want to hurt Mai, which came as a great relief. Instead, like a Great Dane too dumb to know its strength, it was trying to goad the Magus, in its unique way, to produce more treats from the Summoning Portal.

When Gwen reestablished the empathic link, she could feel its frustration simmering like a pot of proverbial toads in hot water. "Caliban," she said, but her mental leash was too loose.

Empowered by even more frustration, Caliban turned to the three women behind the Crystal Barrier and howled. "SHAA!"

Magister Wen quickly jotted down their interaction. "Fascinating. So it's intelligent enough to not berserk. Gwen, it looks like you need to work on your mental commands, have the creature conditioned," Wen advised, her irises lovingly eyeing the monstrosity beating down on her nigh-impenetrable barrier. "Mai, Summon another thing. I want to see what it does. Gwen, are you able to leash it or not?"

"I can continue, but this little bugger is a bloody handful." Gwen tried snarling and growling at Caliban. "Caliban, HEEL! Do you want me to go over there? Fine. I’m coming. You’d better not regret this!"

Wen double-checked her notes.

"Can you confirm that the last ability your Familiar used had a restorative effect?"

"Yes, ma'am, but not enough to match its expenditure," Gwen replied. Although Consume appeared to nourish her far more than Caliban's regular attacks, her vitality remained in deficit, meaning she could not abuse the ability in succession.

"Can Caliban eat without using your mana or vitality?" Wen asked.

"Yes, but nothing challenging." Gwen thought back to when Caliban had swept through the Gila-infested pocket dimension.

The three women watched as Gwen reached Caliban and placed both hands on its back. For whatever reason, the creature responded far more favourably to tactile stimuli.

Picturing herself taming her unruly cats, Gwen laid a hand on Caliban's broad, wart-strewn back and caressed its toad skin, feeling the ridges and bumps. "Caliban, calm down," she said to the creature softly. "Be a good boy."

Caliban ceased its antics and turned to face Gwen with its faceless mien. She could sense it sniffing her body, her hair, enjoying the sensation of her touching its skin.

"Good boy," Gwen cooed, relaxing. "There's plenty to eat if you'll just listen."

Just as Gwen thought she had everything well in hand, Caliban reached over her shoulder with its three-metre reach and snatched at something behind her.

"Onibi!" Magus Kumiko was aghast. "Gwen! Stop it!"

"Caliban!" Gwen pounded her Familiar, but the damn thing was too large, its hide too thick. She may as well have struck a golem with her bare hands.

In its attempt to get away from Gwen's berating assault, Caliban bowled her over with its cumbersome body. Overwhelmed by the creature's girth, Gwen fell onto her buttocks for the second time.

"EE! EE! EE!"

Beside Gwen, she sensed that her other Familiar had stomached enough of its delinquent half-brother trashing its surroundings like an uneducated young marten incapable of understanding their Master's command. Gwen immediately issued Ariel the allotment of mana her Familiar requested. Ariel's chastisement came as a surge of electrified Lightning element filling every inch of its body with power.

With a simple command, Ariel released Gwen’s anger and she recalled something her Master had said when the two Familiars had first appeared. "Looks like her elements are oppositional rather than cooperative. She's going to have her hands full trying to wrangle them. Hopefully, one will check the other."

Since then, Caliban and Ariel had rarely fought in tandem—Gwen generally used either one or the other. She was supposed to be getting better at controlling her pets, but after only so long without her Master's advice, she felt like her skills were regressing.

"EE!" A semi-circle of electricity arched from Ariel's cute little horns to kiss the floor.

A command came bidden to Gwen, learned from her empathic link with Ariel. "Ariel, Thunderbolt!"

"EE! EE!"

A torrent of Lightning came directly from her Evocation Sigil, possessing the same intensity and power as if she had issued the attack herself. It connected the space between Caliban and Ariel. The line blast struck Caliban full in the chest and forced it to release the quivering form of Onibi, sending it towards its owner.

"SHAA!"

To Gwen's surprise, the Lightning blast from Ariel seemed to trigger something in Caliban. Her creature shrunk in size, losing its Transmutation-empowered morphic field until it became an obsidian serpent of about two metres in length and the size of her thighs in girth.

"EE!"

"Shaa!"

"EE! EE!"

The two creatures slid toward one another and joined into a ball of black and white, nipping, hissing, clawing and wrangling on the floor, blazing back and forth. Feeling that Caliban had the upper hand, Gwen helped Ariel cheat a little by supplying it with a smidgen of mana to empower its Haste.

With deliberation, she thought about Ariel’s manifested ability to replicate her spells. It would require testing, of course, for there was great potential in using her Familiar as a secondary source of Lightning damage.

She turned excitedly to the others. Like herself, Petra was watching the two Familiars bemusedly. Besides Pats, Magus Kumiko comforted her terrified Familiar while Wen furiously tapped her data slate.

Ariel and Caliban continued to fight, sending bits of fur flying here and there, with Caliban dripping its oozy saliva, or perhaps blood, all over the Cognisance Chamber's polished floors.

"Alright, stop!" Gwen commanded them both.

Ariel leapt from the melee expertly, far too fast for Caliban to follow. Caliban snarled and continued to spin in a circle, only stopping when it realised it had bitten its tail with its circular maw.

"To me!" Gwen said, fortifying her voice with a jolt of mana. "Sit! Heel!" Ariel returned to her instantly, the very picture of a model Familiar. With great reluctance, as though a delinquent thrashed by a stern mother, Caliban slithered beside Gwen, taking the form of a disturbing, erotic worm-thing with lamprey-lipped tentacles.

"Bravo." Magister Wen clapped softly. "Although that control could have come in handy much earlier."

Magus Mai did not appear convinced.

"Gwen, how're you feeling?" Petra asked, observing Gwen with a studied eye.

After demonstrating the majority of her spells, conjuring two Familiars, and exhibiting their abilities, a brilliant sheen of perspiration now covered Gwen, plastering the fabric of her dress to her body.

Below her physical body, her astral form was a blend of inky, tenebrous motes of Void bisected by brilliant flashes of Lightning. Hues of Conjuration, Evocation and Transmutation appeared and disappeared, creating a curious contrast.

The surrealism was enough to catch her off-guard, and for a moment, all Gwen could do was stare at her astral projection.

"I think I need to take a break." She raised her hand gently. "I’m getting a little woozy."

She was almost out of mana. The succession of spells, the drain on her vitality, the fiasco with her unruly Familiar, the bout between the marten and the Void-serpent that had followed, had been performed without rest. Spell-fatigue, unlike vitality drain, was a weariness of the soul.

"Let's finish up here." Magister Wen nodded. "There is much to be done, and we have no reason to rush. Thank you, Gwen Song. You have shown us something truly unique and worthwhile."

Petra left the crystal barrier and approached her cousin, heedless of the serpent that coiled miserably around Gwen's ankles. Gwen supposed that once a girl had experienced riding Cali-Spider into battle, there wasn't much else that could be worse.

"EE!" Ariel leapt toward Petra and ran infinity coils around her legs before begging with its paws, like a monk praying fervently. Petra retrieved an LDM crystal and fed it to the marten, who turned to look at Caliban gloatingly, as if showing off.

Provoked by the marten's goading display, Caliban opened its maw by splitting its carapace, extending two thin, long tentacles, one blue and the other red. Visibly disgusted by the fleshy organs, Petra allowed the organs to hijack another LDM crystal.

Caliban then turned to Ariel and hissed with triumph. Not to be bested, Ariel turned to Petra and opened its two beady eyes of heart-melting pity to maximum capacity.

Petra gave Gwen a look that said she wasn't as rich as that.

"Alright, enough is enough, you two," Gwen said with a tired voice, and coaxed the two to return.

The thrum of the chamber began to diffuse, and soon the illumination globes resumed their function. The four women soon found themselves in a room with floors covered with glistening fluids, some from the consumed Blink Dog, but mainly from Caliban.

"I'll send for a cleaner," said Petra.

"Mai, can you take care of this?" said Magister Wen, to Gwen’s surprise. "I need Petra to help me with the data."

"Of course, Magister." Mai held Onibi close to her chest.

"Gwen, Petra, we're going back to the lab. I need your help to confirm our initial findings." Wen then turned to Mai. "We will continue the experiments two days from now. Do you still wish to be a part of our fact-finding mission? I can offer you third place on the co-authorship."

"I would be honoured to be a part of your research." Magus Kumiko bowed.

Wen nodded approvingly. "Good. Take care of Gwen when the semester begins. Our findings will be made public in good time, but I advise discretion until then. You may inform Magister Birch, and he can speak to me personally if he too wishes to participate."

"I shall."

"Very well, then. Gwen, Petra, with me."

With Petra holding Gwen steady, the three women made for the Hengsha Building, with Gwen hoping the cleaner wouldn't slip and fall into Caliban's questionable excretions.

"We can use a spectre-index to represent your vital cost and expenditure numerically," Petra said as the three women poured over the data collected from the afternoon's experimentation. "We still haven't indexed your Evocation Spells either. I would suggest benchmarking with Void Bolts, testing with small animals and moving up from there."

"I want to try out Ariel's new abilities and see if they mesh with my other spells," Gwen said. "Also, if Ariel could truly keep a check on Caliban, it would provide a temporary solution to one of my pressing issues."

"You can't suppress Caliban mentally?” Wen asked.

"It still possesses a will of its own, I’m afraid. If it becomes overstimulated, I’m not sure it will listen to my commands."

"Can it take on a Blink-Dog form now?" Wen inquired. "I am very interested in that."

"I’m not sure. It's the first time I have used the Consumption ability in that sort of setting. Normally, Caliban takes on a form after a good fight where it can consume the foe."

Wen appeared thoughtful.

The three Mages drank their Oolong. For supper, Wen had sent the NoM staff on an errand to bring food from University Boulevard. Now they were sorting through the data while enjoying their infusions and glutinous osmanthus cakes.

"At any rate, you're saying there's terrific feedback from the Consume?” her instructor asked.

Gwen nodded, chewing on the florally-scented jelly. She swallowed before she spoke. "I’m positive. The feeling is indescribable. Imagine a starving man suddenly encountering the Golden Nectar of the Dryads. It was so strong I almost blacked out."

"Do you think there are diminishing returns?"

"I hope it dulls with repetition, yeah," Gwen replied. The sensation was one of pleasure comparable with the proverbial Soma of Huxley's famed novel. It was delight without effort, rapture without cause, a feeling of fulfilment in the metaphysical sense, a genuine jolt of unadulterated gratification. It was the high of cocaine without the pitfall.

"Do you think it will be a problem?" Magister Wen asked. "We can probably do something about it via a dampening item, experiment with mental Abjurations, that sort of thing."

"I'd like to see if it’s possible to resist it naturally," Gwen said. "I think I've had enough of item crutches for now."

"The choice is yours, but we'll look into it regardless," Magister Wen said.

"Don't push yourself too hard.” Petra regarded her with kind eyes.

"It's fine. I'll take care of myself, I promise."

"Your initial report from Klavdiya said that Caliban's consumption of Mages ballooned your mana capacity. Is that true?" Magister Wen asked.

Gwen nodded again.

"Do you think Consume could increase your vitality? Could you become healthier? Stronger? Faster?” Wen continued.

"I don't feel any different," Gwen confessed. It was a half-truth. She felt good, like after a hearty session of yoga by the beach.

"Are you adverse to… human testing?" Magister Wen leaned back in her chair.

"I am," Gwen’s brows furrowed. There was no way she was about to start murdering human beings to test out her abilities. That was the way of Elizabeth Sobel. She was trying to hunt the monster, not become the monster. "Please, ma'am. I don't want to harm anyone."

"Of course, I’m merely asking," Magister Wen replied unconvincingly. "You’re alright with experimenting on summoned creatures, yes?"

"I am," Gwen agreed hesitantly.

"Alright then, how about demi-humans?" Wen asked. "Ugly, inhuman ones? I guarantee you won't even know. We'll use nothing remotely simian."

"Please, no," Gwen insisted.

"Okay, I understand." Magister Wen gave her an affirming smile. Gwen tried to hear the gears grinding in the Magister's head, but she allowed nothing to escape.

The trio looked down at the planned papers for the next year and a half:

Initial Investigation of Void Mana to Vitality Conversion Ratio

Affinity rate for Void Spells: A Comparison

Void matter Interactions Material Data

Longitudinal Study of the Extended Use of Void Magic: Gwen Song

Druidic Essence Material Data

Most of her slated tests centred around Gwen's Void talent.

“I would think that the orgiastic side effect of your Void summon is a part of Caliban’s skillset, exacerbated by your loss of the Kirin Amulet. A portion stems from the raw, unfiltered comings and goings of rough magic violating your conduits. As for the pleasure. I propose that how your parasite awards the host, thereby conditioning you to hunt. Maybe that explains Sobel to a degree?" Wen appeared pleased with deduction. "Either way, we should keep this under wraps until we know more. You have potential, Gwen. Perhaps too much potential."

Gwen did not like that sound of Wen's potential.

"As soon as we publish," Magister Wen brimmed with confidence, "with the old Magisters at Pudong, mayhap even the Magi himself taking an interest in these findings, you will have backing for sure."

"Won't the PLA interfere?" Gwen asked.

"That would be Pudong's problem," Magister Wen answered with a smirk. "With your ties to Kilroy's apprentices, it's not as though the PLA could use you, at least not without significant reconditioning. But if they did that, you'd be useless to them."

"Reconditioning?"

"Don't worry your pretty head about it." Wen batted a hand to and fro. "It won't happen to you, not without Master Shultz burning down half of Shanghai."

Gwen wondered about that, but she agreed with Magister Wen's proposal. The research helped Gwen immensely, allowing her far more nuanced knowledge of her abilities and limitations in a relatively safe location with supervision and support.

She would just have to go with the flow.

As it was a Friday night and Shanghai never slept, Petra escorted Gwen home for fear of her cousin wandering off. Mina's apartment was in a trendy part of Shanghai, and the weekend attracted all manners of unsavoury characters to the neon lights of the Bund and beyond.

"I hope our apartment is ready by Monday," Petra said as they passed by a troop of young men and women outside a nightclub, drawing dozens of eyes. "God, I hate places like these. So many people all the time."

Gwen's Message device buzzed. "Yeah, Richard?"

"Mina and Tao are over. How close are you to home?"

"I’m with Pats, about ten minutes. Why?"

"They want to eat out. Want to come along?"

"Sure, I could eat," Gwen replied. This time, she really could eat. She could eat a horse.

"Great, tell Petra we're going to SHOOK! on Nanking. The Address is twenty-three Nanjing East."

"Alright, see you there soon."

Mina flashed a business card at the manager, and the group passed the half-a-block line outside and went straight in.

The young Mages had a booth to themselves, staffed by private waiters and a chef who cooked Wildland cuts of tender meat on a fire-enchanted slab of stone.

Richard and Tao knocked down expensive European beers while the girls had cocktails. Gwen initially thought of ordering a mocktail but was dissuaded by her two girlfriend-cousins.

Over their fruity concoctions, their party exchanged accounts of their day.

"WMR Properties?" Mina raised a tapered brow as she sipped her signature Blue Moon. "And someone happens to give you a cheap apartment? Huh, it figures."

"Why, what's wrong?" Gwen turned to her cousin.

"Probably nothing." Mina shook her head. "The M in WMR belongs to The House of M, but they own lots of properties around the city anyway. WMR is a corporate conglomerate group they made with the local real estate lenders."

"Ah, you mean Mayuree." Gwen realised the source of Mina's concern. "You think this is another favour?"

Mina shrugged, putting a spoonful of truffle to her lips and chewing thoughtfully. "If you were renting anywhere from Waitan to Laoximen, around the Jinan District, you'd be looked after by my dad. Fudan, I assume, falls under their group.”

"Well, thanks for the heads up. I'll keep an eye out."

While she pondered the matter, Tao took the opportunity to make a sale.

"Yeh Dawg, I am telling ya. You gotta come to one of our shows, man. It's the bomb. You gonna be impressed, I guarantee it. Drinks on me. VIP! Yeeeah!" Her cousin extolled the virtues of his underground shows, hosted by "crews" of cosmopolitan men and women who worshipped the latest trends from America.

For Gwen, if the latest iPhone “Comm-Device” could make its way across the sea, that would be far more satisfying. Having spent almost fifteen years of her life with a smartphone, using a device capable of only Messaging and making calls was agonising. Without Google Maps, she couldn’t tell east from west outside the campus district.

"Gwen, come on, you gotta come to one of my shows, just one."

"Okay, Peaches. I will. I promise," Gwen replied sweetly. "Petra and I are a little busy right now, though, but definitely once things cool down."

"Alright, alright!" Tao whooped loudly, and the two cousins made a low-five.

“Pussht—" Gwen leaned backwards dramatically, expecting Tao to do likewise.

Tao stared at her as though his cousin had suddenly gone insane.

The others turned to look at Gwen, searching her face for answers.

Gwen felt her face flush pink and beetroot. Ah, nuts. This world didn’t have six seasons of Fresh Prince to culture them in the art of the low-five.

Chapter fifteen

Good Neighbours

Aday later, Manager Xie called and told the girls they could pick up the keys from the office whenever they desired. As such, the girls and Richard took inventory of what they needed, then had Tao's chauffeur drive them around town for furniture, toiletries and the other necessities for a new apartment.

Sunday, the girls returned with Magister Wen to the Yi-Fu Spellcraft Building and continued preliminary testing, recording Gwen's biometric fluctuation as she fired off Void Bolt after Void Bolt.

"Minimal rebounds from your Evocation spells," Magister Wen observed somewhat disappointedly. A dozen summoned creatures perished under Gwen's spells before her Druidic Essence waned, but they couldn’t replicate the fabled vampiric effect of the Void.

Comparatively, Caliban proved to be a superior research subject. Now that it was being summoned to feed, the creature grew far more compliant. Warming up to Magus Kumiko, the sometimes-serpent, sometimes-toad, occasional-spider-cum-centipede ravaged the magical chattel, all the while purring like a kitten.

When Gwen commanded Caliban to transform into its lunch, meaning everything from felines to crawlers, her beast grew frustrated and disruptive.

"Maybe it only transforms into creatures it bests in the wild. Like in a ritualistic bout," Petra said.

Gwen was thinking more of Faceless and how the Void woman thing had tried to consume her body by submerging her ego into a pool of corrosive pitch. Or perhaps it had had something to do with Creature Cores or even power tiers, but that would take real-world evidence.

Under Wen and Kumiko's watchful eye, she attempted both a Consuming feeder-summons, as well as having Caliban wail away without using its Gila ability. Though there was no conclusive answer to that hypothesis, Gwen confirmed that without her Kirin Amulet, she was most definitely receiving the lion's share of the vitality consumed by her Void Familiar.

Her new problem, which made her flush with shame, was the euphoric pleasure that came with Caliban's consumption.

Having lived as an adult prior, she wouldn't quite say that consumption was better than sex, but it was undoubtedly a feeling of pleasure. To rationalise the peculiar attraction of the unbidden euphoria, she compared its metaphysical ecstasy to a smoker who, after seventy-two hours going cold turkey, finally torched a Marlborough to his lips.

A few times, as Caliban tore and ripped at its meal like a woodchipper, all she could do was ward herself against the growing desire for more of these moments of transient rapture.

But in the end, it was manageable. In Gwen's old life, she’d been a woman of many pleasures. She liked fine dining, theatre, shoes, couture, and with the money she’d made, few vices had been out of her reach. Even so, she’d never reneged on her exercise regime, her yoga or her sessions with Doctor Monroe.

She was exhausted most days. But at the very least, she never lost control.

When Monday came, Gwen, Petra and Richard arrived at their new abodes, removal truck in tow, and began to furnish them. Magister Wen had lent Petra her large storage ring, allowing her to pack an apartment in one convenient sweep.

Gwen took the room with the larger window at Petra's behest, who insisted that she desired little more than a place to wash and sleep. The girls laughed and chatted while their white goods arrived, followed by a contemporary couch, a dining set in the Saarinen Tulip style, a luxurious high-pile rug to warm their feet on the sofa, and a Noguchi coffee table.

When the living room was finally set up, Gwen marvelled at her creation.

They had a vid-caster on the far wall, a scandi cabinet in white polyethene and oak, equal-distantly framed by a glass coffee table and a low-back couch that made the room far more spacious than she had anticipated.

"I never knew you could make such a small space so…" Petra struggled for words, "spacious."

Gwen thanked her cousin, then reminded herself that she needed to contact the Pudong Tower to install that LR Communication Projector and asked Petra for permission, which she gave.

After the NoM cleaners had returned, Gwen oversaw Richard's renovations next door. Her cousin, whose adolescence had survived the dorms of Prince's College, transformed his small living room into a bachelor pad. Lacking a vid-caster, Richard had four eclectic-themed couches, a battered table and a host of bric-a-brac that had arrived while Gwen had been busy with her side of things.

On one wall, a lascivious leggy blonde was riding a ten-foot wand with the tag "Blast ’em!" adorning the central space. On another, Richard had beer adverts collected from God knows where. The place resembled someone's idea of a college student's abode and Gwen wondered how much of it was Richard and how much of it was for show.

Gwen inspected the ancient fridge and the Magitech equivalent of a micro-oven. "Where in the world did you get these?"

Richard grinned. "My co-workers donated these for saving their lives a few dozen times."

Gwen exhaled with pride—Richard had known these men for a week and they were already donating all their second-hand white goods and spare couches. As to the quality of the donations, she couldn't say, but the gesture was something she could appreciate.

Returning to her room, Gwen carefully laid out the attire she'd acquired in her travels as well as salvaged from Sydney, then took account of her war chest: T-shirts by the dozen in pastel and plain. Skirts in the twenties, jeans in the tens and half a dozen pairs of blouses, jackets, blazers, shorts and other assorted accessories.

Naturally, she desired more.

There would be frequent gatherings, socials, outings, interviews and meet-and-greets in her immediate, three-year future. At the very least, a secondary walk-in closet was essential to living life to the fullest.

The following two weeks came and went without incident, and her busy schedule soon drowned out the euphoria of living in a new home.

Thanks to their frequent absence, the renovation upstairs wasn't nearly as bad as Manager Xie had made it out to be. Both she and Petra left the apartment in the morning, as did Richard, whose work ensured he was rarely home.

Gwen called her grandmother every few days, even though she was sure Petra reported their comings and goings with the precision of a military report. In turn, her grandmother spoke a little about developments at home, such as her father returning to Hebei to train and her uncle's advice for her to stay safe.

Then there was Percy. Thanks to Guo's overt nepotism, Percy had been accepted into Shanghai's Xiangming High School, the most prestigious government-sponsored school in the region, where her brother would receive the best education under the most experienced tutors. Also, he would be placed firmly under the auspice of the PLA, for the school almost exclusively produced Mages who went on to join Jiantong University, followed by a PLA career track.

"That's wonderful news," Gwen said. She mentioned nary a word about the Kirin Amulet. Her babulya likely already knew about her dilemma, and if she could have done something about it, she probably would have. "Would you like to come and see our apartment?"

Her grandmother promised she would when work at the Experimental Hospital allowed.

In the intervening time, Gwen managed to book a private training hall through Wen's connection. Her instructor, Magus Kumiko, offered to accompany her, but only if Caliban didn’t appear.

"Lightning Grasp!"

"Eee!"

"Lightning Bolt!"

"Eee!"

"Blast Bolt!"

"Eee!"

"Call Lightning!"

"Eee?"

Ariel was proving to be a true boon now it possessed the means to manifest most of her spells externally.

"Flashbang!"

"EE! EE! EE!"

"OH. MY. GOD! Sorry! Are you okay?" Performing a ranged Flashbang, Ariel had manifested the spell in front of its face and had been instantly blinded and deafened, causing it to collapse onto the ground and writhe.

"Poor Ariel. I'll kiss it better, okay?" Gwen congealed a droplet of her Druidic Essence and fed it to the marten. Ariel took the emerald dew within its lips, then sprang to renewed life, dashing to and fro with such haste that it resembled a bolt of lightning itself.

As the marten recovered, Gwen considered her new options. It would seem that Ariel's horns could only duplicate her Evocation spells, allowing for a twin cast from both herself and the creature, as long as she channelled the mana for both of them. As such, it seemed that the best way to abuse Ariel's horns was to load up on Conjuration herself, then together with the marten, unleash Evocation spells from both. In theory, the strategy seemed sound to both herself and Magus Kumiko, as Ariel could maul an opponent one second, then blast them with a bolt of lightning a few inches away from their face.

"An exceptional ability and one rarely manifested." Magus Kumiko observed approvingly. "It takes an incredibly dense and well-preserved core to pass on such a talent, and even then, it's a matter of luck. Where did you find such a thing?"

"A favour," Gwen confessed enigmatically.

"Beware of favours," her instructor advised.

"I know."

Onibi floated toward the marten and nudged it. The marten purred and rubbed its face on the flames, for the ghost flames were as soft as silk. Onibi was from the Positive Elemental Plane. Ariel was a being of Air and positive mana. Because of this, both Familiars had been fast to make friends.

"Shall we try some target practice?" the helpful Magus offered, likely mindful of Wen's orders to keep Gwen on her feet.

"Sure." Gwen closed her eyes for a moment of introspection. "With Onibi here, let's drain the mana pool!"

Gwen awoke to the most god-awful sound imaginable on the Prime Material.

"WEEEEEeeeeeeeeEEEEEE! Evacuate NOW! Do not use the levitation platform! Evacuate NOW!"

"What?" She slid out of her bed, pyjamas akimbo and half-asleep with grogginess.

"Gwen!" Petra burst through her door, wearing naught but her intimates. "There's a fire somewhere in the building. We need to go."

"Oh God," Gwen groaned. "No! No! No! Not when Richard is away!" They’d only been there for two weeks. How could she lose her home now? She thought of the potential of the fire being a scheme of some sort, but who would set an apartment on fire to get at Petra or herself?

"It's just an evacuation alarm." Petra read the panic on Gwen's face. "There shouldn't be any danger. I don't sense any smoke and there's nothing I can see from the winter garden. We should be safe, but it's best to go."

Comforted, Gwen searched for something to wear. She wasn't too worried now, for all her essential documents remained safely in her storage ring. If the apartment genuinely perished, all she would have lost was her wardrobe and her new furniture.

"Where's Richard?" Petra asked.

"Working late. Staying on-site."

Richard had increased his part-time hours now that they’d settled into the apartment. Gwen figured her cousin must be hoping to make a sizeable sum before their semester officially began, for he would have few opportunities for labour once the academic term consumed all their time. It was a shame, for Lea would have snuffed the flame with a wink.

"Evacuate NOW! Do not use the levitation platform! Evacuate NOW!"

"Bloody hell, I can't even hear myself think," Gwen groaned as she struggled into her attire. The two girls met their annoyed neighbours in the stairwell, who were likewise fleeing down the stairs.

"Evacuate NOW! Do not use the levitation platform!"

The alarm system drowned out all conversation as the girls followed the crowd to the meeting point below, where a hundred residents chit-chatted, looking up at the building and trying to figure out what was wrong.

The midnight air of Shanghai's spring was stifling as usual, and the girls found themselves sweating despite their light attire, such was the humidity, exacerbated by the thick mass of mana pollutants that hung like a miasma over the city.

"Hi, I am from 21–03."

Within minutes of seeing the two girls alone and by themselves, a few bored and enterprising young men from the dorms seemed ready to take advantage of their captive audience.

"Miss Kuznetsova! Is that you?" A young man uttered in disbelief once he’d come closer and saw Petra's face, stunning even without any makeup. "I can't believe we live in the same building. I thought you lived in B3."

Petra stared at the young man coldly until he apologised and retreated. Despite her frigid resting bitch face, dozens of eager eyes shot toward the two girls, and soon the courtyard was liberally whispering about Miss Kuznetsova, as well as inquiring about the girl next to the celebrated Ice Queen of Fudan.

"Maybe a relative? She looks like a gweilo as well," a girl commented.

"I think so. She's almost as tall as Miss Kuznetsova."

"Do you think she attends Fudan?"

"She must. She just said so to Lee."

"I've never seen her in class, though."

It took a good ten minutes or so for the firefighters to arrive. Gwen understood from reading PSAs that there was a Mage variant of the firefighters and an NoM variant. As the fire presented itself as non-destructive and localised, the NoM variety arrived to deal with it.

Another ten minutes passed where Gwen was harassed by interested parties, politely diffusing the situation with sweet smiles, vapid giggles and handshakes, with Petra watching on as though she had no involvement in her cousin's predicament.

"Alright, everyone. You can go home. False alarm," the fire marshall declared.

"What the fuck?"

"Wocao! Stupid alarm."

"Kaonima! Who set it off?"

"Who the hell triggered it?"

"Shit, I’ve got to work in two hours."

"I have a paper due in five."

Grumbling and far from happy, the crowd returned to the building.

Not wanting to be crushed by the weight of the people crowding the lifts, Gwen and Petra decided to take a walk around the perimeter and take in the ambiently lit rock garden at B1's exterior before returning to the main lobby.

As they entered the foyer, Gwen’s eyes were drawn to a pair of siblings also waiting for the levitation platform. The familiar-looking girl was petite and cute, wearing a pink terrycloth set in the Juicy Couture style prevalent in her old world.

Beside her, a young man stood yawning, not much taller than the girl beside him, attired in a grey-white set of matching tracks. He turned to the girls with a sheepish grin, blowing out a stream of smoke. "Fancy meeting you here," he said with a grin. "What are the chances?"

"Mayuree? Marong?" That was most definitely a surprise. "What are the two of you doing here?" Gwen heard the Tetris blocks falling into place in her head even as the words escaped her lips—the two pissed off ex-tenants, the eager manager, the sweet-rental deal.

"Aha." Mayuree's flustered, embarrassed face looked as though she was about to burst into tears. "Hello, neighbours."

“Did you set off the smoke glyph?"

“We’re so sorry…” Mayuree replied with an expression of pained embarrassment. She explained that it had been the Para-Elemental Mage's first day staying in the penthouse suite and he had neglected to realise that the smoke detectors were not deactivated.

"It's because that was originally my suite." Mayuree sulked, hugging a pillow on the L-shaped couch on the lower floor of the mezzanine.

"Quit your sulking, Mia." Marong leaned back into the couch without any sign that he felt any danger from Gwen and Petra. He yawned. "I am more surprised that you're here speaking with us." He cocked his head toward Gwen questioningly. "Last time we met, you were positively skittish."

"Are you alright?" Gwen ignored the brother's goading and turned to Mayuree. "Is he bullying you?"

"For shame!" Marong protested. "You make me sound like a scoundrel."

"You are a villain. Meanie. Idiot!" Mayuree retorted churlishly.

"I take it you all know each other, then?" Petra sighed. "Gwen, is this the Diviner you were talking about?"

"Yes, Ariel's benefactor," Gwen said.

"It was a trade," Mayuree insisted. "A down payment."

"So you're the one who told your fortune," Petra noted critically, looking the girl up and down as Mayuree clutched her pillow tighter. Petra's husky-blue eyes had that effect on small animals.

"And you're the infamous Miss Kuznetsova of Fudan." Marong smacked his lips together appreciatively. "Simply exquisite."

Petra glared at the man.

"If only your servant girl were here, Mia. She could be making us some tea while we feud." Marong looked about them with impatience. "Alas, our little storm in a teacup will not arrive until the semester starts."

"Kitty is not my servant," Mayuree hissed at her brother. "She's my friend."

"And Gwen is a friend. A friend to us both, right?" Marong smirked at Gwen.

"Maybe when we get to know each other a little more," Gwen told the offensively confident Marong. "I am on Mia's side, after all."

"Ha!" Marong huffed disingenuously.

"At any rate, we should get back," Gwen said. "Mia, I know you are to thank for our lodgings, and I certainly don't mind that we're neighbours. If there's something you want to talk to me about, come to my apartment."

"Sleep well," Marong called, waving a hand casually in the air. "This time, the detector better be off. I could kill for a smoke."

Gwen and Petra left the foyer, followed closely by Mayuree.

"Look, I can explain." Mayuree followed them out the door, touching Gwen's arm with far too much familiarity.

"Alright, come in then. We can talk in private," Gwen said. She was interested in how Marong had come to be their menace-in-residence.

"Right now?" Mayuree looked surprised.

"Yep, come on."

The three girls returned to their apartment and Mayuree looked around. Gwen and their guest set themselves up on the couch, leaving Petra in the corridor.

"I’m going to bed. Scream if you need help,” her cousin joked.

Mayuree watched Petra leave, then turned to Gwen. "Wow. The one and only Petra Kuznetsova, in the flesh! She's as eye-catching as the rumours say."

"Yep. Petra's a top sheila," Gwen agreed.

"She-la?" Mayuree tried to replicate the slang without success. "Gwen, I’m sorry I didn't let you know about Marong beforehand."

"It's fine." Gwen was starting to feel a bit guilty. She’d got an apartment that she couldn't have had otherwise and the bringer of her boon was apologising? There was only so much advantage a girl could take before she should blush for shame. "Look, I’m thankful. I owe you another one. "

"You're not mad, are you?" Mayuree came closer to her face.

"No! Of course not." Gwen took Mayuree's hand to assure her while moving her face further away. "I’m more worried about you. Are things okay with your brother?"

"My half-brother," Mayuree confessed. "I don't know. I moved some of my people to get this penthouse sorted out, but then my brother barged in with his people and I had to concede the master bed if I wanted to stay here at all."

"And you agreed? What a sadist! What's his game?"

"I don't know. I wasn't going to Divine it." Mayuree stared at the ceiling. "I wouldn't exactly call him malicious or cruel. He likes his jokes and they always go a little far. This one time when we're young, he set a goblin on me to see how long I could run before—"

"That's child abuse, hon." Gwen said seriously. "You should report that."

"I don't think anyone would have cared until injuries started happening." She looked the very picture of pity. "My family is openly competitive."

Gwen felt her maternal feelings skyrocket. Mayuree wasn't cute like Elvia, but the Diviner's natural innocence gave her the air of a kicked kitten.

"You're okay with being neighbours, then? Even with Marong?" Mayuree asked.

"Well, if you don't mind and if I don't have a choice. Do you think your brother is going to be a danger? What's your deal, anyway? Why are you here?"

"I got a half-scholarship for Fudan," Mayuree informed her. "I thought we could attend school together."

"Can we even attend the same course?" Gwen asked sceptically.

"We can hang out on campus." Mayuree came closer yet again. "I just wanted us to be close, for… you know, reasons. Do you mind?"

"I wouldn't mind that. I don't know anyone here except for the people you've already met." Gwen gazed at the ceiling.

"That's wonderful!" Mayuree replied happily, then caught herself. "I mean, I’m sure you'll make new friends."

"I hope so too. Did Marong say Kitty is staying with you as well?"

"Yes, she's the one with a full scholarship."

"Oh?" Gwen noted with surprise. So she was the other winner of the LCSS. When she thought back on it, the Wind Mage had demonstrated control far superior to hers. Comparatively, she was the immoral backdoor cheater who'd snatched the LCSS placement like a bandit fleeing the scene of her crime.

"I hope you can work well together," Mayuree said hopefully. Her imploring puppy eyes made Gwen all the more guilt-ridden.

"I am sure we will," Gwen assured her. "Look, it's getting late. How about we convene for breakfast tomorrow?"

"Sure. Come to the apartment. We have an aunty there who will make it. She's from the home country, and she's a kitchen muse. Cantonese style, Japanese, Korean, Western, whatever you want."

"Your aunt is living with you?"

"Not an actual aunty," Mayuree said. "Our NoM maid. She lives in the kitchen."

"What?"

"I mean the pantry. There's a maid's room in it."

"The pantry?" Gwen felt dizzy from the absurdity. "Where was she when the fire went off?"

"We weren't in any danger, so she stayed behind."

"Jesus." Gwen studied the ceiling once more. There had been a maybe fire. And there had been a living, breathing human being hiding in the fucking pantry the entire time? What was she, Dobby the house-elf? Would Mia's maid take socks in exchange for freedom?

"So breakfast? I'll get Aunty to make something nice."

"Alright." Gwen relented, still wondering about the scullery maid. She also wanted to speak to Marong again to ask why he had intruded into their lives.

"Okay, I'll let her know. She'll probably have to start baking. Western okay?" Mayuree answered happily before leaving Gwen's apartment, appearing satisfied that she would see her new friend again in six hours.

Gwen returned to her living room from the door, shaking her head. Out of paranoia, she checked their apartment's pantry just in case an NoM house elf had come with the utilities. Thankfully, theirs was cramped and small and could only fit Gwen's spam boxes, instant ramen and a rice cooker Petra had brought.

Satisfied, Gwen returned to bed, hoping to God that Marong would not set off the fire alarm again.

Chapter sixteen

Knots

Gwen sneaked a peek at the maid's room in the pantry the following morning. Sure enough, a pantry door was built into the kitchen, and behind that door was the food storage and a room with a single bed, a lumen globe, a chair and a small cabinet built into the wall. When she pointed out the fact to Petra, the erstwhile Moscow-elite noted that in the old country, the servant quarters were built between the Masters’ rooms.

"Greetings, young miss."

Gwen turned around and saw the maid, her face wary, as if wondering why the guest was so interested in her quarters. She was in her thirties, plain-faced, but there was an intelligent look in her dark eyes.

"Miss, er…"

"Lei," the woman replied. "The young Master and Mistress call me Ah-lei."

Bloody oath, the woman even has a pet name.

"Sorry for intruding." She collected her feelings, then dipped her head apologetically. "I am Gwen Song, by the way, Mayuree's friend and classmate."

Lei bowed deeply, arching her back until she was doubled over like a jackknife. "Please take care of the young miss."

"I'll do my best." Gwen gingerly sidestepped and allowed the woman to pass, berating herself for violating what little privacy she enjoyed.

With the small, inconsequential episode over, Gwen settled down at the open kitchen overlooking the campus for breakfast with the siblings. Mayuree appeared on edge, sitting with Gwen and Petra rather than her brother, while Marong engaged in his favourite thing in the world—chain smoking.

He watched them like a film noir villain as the girls ate their breakfast. He pulled out a cigarette and lit the tip with a snap of his finger, then puffed away, surrounding himself with a circle of smoke that never quite reached across the table, mystically constrained by an invisible force.

"Impressive." Petra pushed her plate away and levelled her eyes at Marong. "I assume that's a Smoke Mephit. I think I’ve heard of you. The infamous Poof and Puff of Peking fame, right? What are you doing here in Fudan?"

"PUFFT!" The hot milk raided Gwen's sinus as she choked on her flat white. Lei quickly brought her a towel, which she used to drain the coffee from her nose. "Petra!" she scolded her straight-talking cousin. She knew Petra had no filter, but this ignorant, repulsive display was too much. The Russians had been famous homophobes in her old world. To think this world was no different. "That's horrible. You can't call people the p-word in polite conversation." She turned to Marong. "Sorry, Petra didn't mean it. We have nothing against that sort of thing. Free love for all. I’m not at all opposed to it."

Petra turned to look at her flustered cousin uncomprehendingly. Marong followed Gwen's gaze until his eyes fell on his cigarette. "This? I started when I was fourteen." The Smoke Mage crossed his legs coolly, taking a luxurious drag, twirling the fag across his lips. "No, I don't mind the moniker. That's what they call me."

"That's horrible." Lineage might be paramount in a Mage's household, but to think they would discriminate so openly.

"What's wrong with Puff?" Petra said again, apparently missing the point.

Marong exhaled. Smoke coiled around his torso, then formed the likeness of a vaguely humanoid Sprite. It was an impish-looking thing, resembling a skeletal goblin with wings.

"This is Poof," Marong said. "He's not very friendly, so we can dispense with the pleasantries. I am not a Conjurer, so I’m afraid you can't interact with it. Besides, Smoke Mephits are famously skittish."

Gwen felt her cheeks go crimson. She cursed her ears, or perhaps her Translation Ioun Stone, or both. Puff as in parfait, not as in queen. Poof as in vanish, like smoke.

"Brother is number three in the family," Mayuree explained. "He was on the Peking Inter-University Team in 1998."

"Oh? Do tell." Gwen turned to the man with renewed interest. "There's more than meets the eye."

"We lost." Marong shrugged. "I didn't have Poof with me then, so only half the moniker stood." He tapped his cigarette. "We could speak some more if you like. Over dinner, perhaps—"

"Gwen needs to study," Petra said, her voice cutting the dialogue like a keen scimitar. Gwen swore she could see the glass table vibrate to the pitch of her protest.

"On that note, we’d better go," Gwen said. "I have lessons with Magister Wen."

"I'll see you out." Mayuree quickly left the table to accompany the two girls.

Petra and Marong exchanged another glance, her husky-blue eyes meeting a haze of distinct smoke that masked his face behind blue tendrils.

"If you're wondering, we're busy. Always busy." Petra announced each syllable carefully, stressing her vowels.

"Of course. Nothing would please me more." Marong crushed the cigarette in his hand and reached for his coffee. "Good luck."

Gwen's' tuition under Petra continued for another fortnight. She studied in the lab during the morning, receiving lessons from Magister Wen or Petra alternatively during the week, then participated in a minimum of two sessions of data-gathering and fact-finding.

Alarmingly, Caliban's Consume didn’t fade or falter with repetition. Each time, the experience was as vivid as the first, though Gwen was beginning to distinguish between the different creatures fed to it by Magus Kumiko. Magical beasts of the mammalian kind provided a sort of fuzzy satisfaction akin to being bathed in a hot spring. Comparatively, insectile creatures possessed a bitter aftertaste. At any rate, the sustained euphoria lasted for a few hours, easing her casting of additional Void spells.

The inquisitive foursome also found that consistent use of Consume every few days kept Gwen's vitality and health well-balanced. Combined with the nourishing effect of Almudj's Druidic Essence, her eyes remained bright, her complexion smooth and her limbs shapely and supple, all despite the taxing use of Void. Gwen soon felt herself at peak physical fitness, despite only engaging in a nightly jog with Petra around the safety of the B1 compound.

As a result, Magister Wen was immensely pleased that Gwen could sustain her health and noted it down as a milestone victory for Gwen's development as a viable Void Mage.

When the weekend came, Gwen invited her babulya over to the new apartment to show off her new life and ease Klavdiya's worries.

"Feeding Caliban Magical Creatures might not be a long-term solution, but it's a decent crutch for now," her babulya said. "Remember, as your Affinity grows, so will your efficiency in converting vitality and mana into Void spells. Maybe one day you’ll find that lesser spells will cost little to no vitality."

Gwen was inclined to agree. Elizabeth Sobel seemed to rip through mid to high-tier spells without even breaking a sweat. Her maximum allowance was five tier-four incantations within five seconds of one another. "Which means I need to seek out Void beings attuned to the element and try to have Caliban consume them." Gwen followed her babulya's line of logic. "Not sure where there'll be Void spawn, though. I think the centipede that Caliban ran into had a smidgeon of Negative Energy; it was a carrion eater for sure. They're awfully rare unless we're talking about the Undead."

"No, stay away from anything involving the Negative Plane." Klavdiya's tone was firm. "Even if you survive it without incident, the PLA would not take it kindly. The Undead up north and to the west remain the greatest threat to the state, and the PLA Tower would hardly be expected to sit on its hands if it turns out you can tap into the Plane of Negative Energy."

"But—"

"Gwen, I know Void is a rare element, and its nature is not conducive to simply 'exist' somewhere," her babulya said sagaciously, "but that’s why you need to go and adventure, see the world. When the semester begins, go check in with the Tower, see if there’s any information on where Void creatures manifest. That would be your best bet."

"Okay," Gwen said.

"Remember, NO UNDEAD. Without the forbidden art of Necromancy, you would likely deteriorate as soon as the element floods your body," Klavdiya continued. "It is, after all, the antithesis of life. It's a miracle in itself that the Void appears to have a non-lethal impact on your health. Guo's family trait with Salt was a talent tempered by centuries of natural selection, but you? You're special, which means you’re also an anomaly."

"Does Shanghai have Void Mages?" Gwen asked.

"Yes, now and then. However, none survived more than a few years past their Awakening, which is why to the CCP, you aren’t worth enough for them to start pulling whiskers from the Pudong Tower. However, for Fudan, on the study of Spellcraft, the data we glean from your experiences might mean the survival of future Void Mages. Your milestones will one day be their touchstones, do you understand?"

Gwen nodded. She hadn't thought of that before. She was the guinea pig. The next generation would be the benefactors.

Shanghai.

The Hongqiao District.

After much internal debate, Gwen had resolved to finally put a full stop to a matter that nagged her incessantly since Percy had arrived in Shanghai.

Her mother.

Helena was a loose end she wanted to resolve, at least for now.

She’d received the address for her mother's new abode from Babulya, a Mage-only gated community on the south side of Shanghai, near the scenic region of the Hongqiao district, past the Third Orbital Highway. Petra had wanted to go with her, but she was preoccupied with an errand from Magister Wen. Richard was in Suzhou, where he was heavily involved in the waterworks operation that dominated the civilian news cycle. The Water Conjurer had only returned home to sup with Gwen once this week, promising that things would settle into a more reasonable pattern once the semester started. Even for a man as talented as her cousin, Richard looked wane, though he appeared otherwise happy and fulfilled.

In the end, it was Mayuree who accompanied her, tempting Gwen to finally agree after she offered the loan of her private chauffeur and the comfort of a massive Maybach-type sedan whose interior looked as though a dozen Aurochs had been sacrificed for the upholstery.

Gwen had to admit that vanity powered her decision as well. She wanted to show her mother her success since their separation. It would be a cathartic experience—something Gwen owed to the old Gwen. It would be a cleansing, a scouring of the past so she could move forward without baggage.

When the land yacht pulled into the driveway of the compound, it received the reception Gwen had intended. The Hu Clan was well-to-do, but they were baitfish compared to the House of M. The Hu family mainly dealt with military contracts and mass fabrication in Shanghai. In contrast, Mayuree's people traded rare and unusual magical goods from Europe to China to Australia.

When Gwen showed off her new “wealth” from the back seat, her hand held by the impeccable chauffeur, she once more applauded the calculated genius of bringing Mayuree. It wasn't so much that the Hu family marvelled at the car, it was the embossed, stylised "M" discreetly mounted on the bonnet and engraved on the side carriage. Having a girlfriend accompany her also sent a good signal. With Mayuree's demure, adherent body language, it was clear that Gwen was a close acquaintance of the auspicious merchant house—an ally; not something that would send tongues wagging, like the lover of a young Master.

There was a gathering of the Hu Clan in the courtyard, but Helena wasn’t beside her stepfather. Standing rigidly in his formal clothes, Tang looked older, far more than he had in Sydney. Where the man had reminded Gwen of a Chinese Clint Eastwood, he had grown visibly frailer after the loss of his assets in Sydney. Once, he had been proud and outspoken. Now, he just seemed tired. If Tang had lost his position in the Hu Clan, it meant her mother was in misery.

She regretted her choice of battle dress. To mock Helena, she had worn an elegant, twist-dyed split-thigh maxi in cobalt, obsidian and emerald that emphasised her eyes while baring her shoulders and showing off her collarbones. She had chosen the look after consulting with her Fu-er-dai cousin, the richly equipped Mina, who had assured her she looked the very picture of a cover girl in the upper crust fashion magazines.

But there was no turning back now. It wasn't as though she could apologise and return in sweatpants and tracks to attempt a more homely encounter.

Fawned over by the Hu's family members, Gwen and Mayuree entered the manor's foyers, moving toward the East Wing, where the side-branch of the family resided. She found her mother waiting for her in an open living room overlooking a small garden. French windows filled the room with light, but the ambient glimmer against her mother's silhouette.

From the looks of it, Helena had gotten her desire. She was now in a tier-one city, but Gwen struggled to determine if the woman was happy.

"Gwen," Helena spoke softly. "You're here."

Gwen could read the paralytic ambivalence in her mother's body language. Her vibrancy seemed to have become muted, her vivacious fire doused by living under the roof of a family far more auspicious, wealthy and powerful than her own. Gwen knew her mother. Helena loved, craved, thrived and nourished herself on drama, but what dramatics dared she engender under the roof of the Hu's main house?

Two pairs of brilliant irises, near-identical in their hue and complexity to hers, met Gwen across the open space.

"How old do I look?" Helena's voice could barely contain the simmering emotions within. "I know, I know. You must be laughing. You and Percy both."

Watching her mother's face run through changing shades, Gwen searched her chest for a feeling of satisfaction, only to find the guilt one felt when stepping on an injured animal. The immoderate makeup, the overdone hair, the dress that adorned Gwen's figure like a cascade of colour, all of it seemed childish and vindictive.

"Mother." Gwen curtsied. "Are you well?"

"I am well." Helena's lips curled, but there was no feeling in it.

Mayuree introduced herself, and Helena dipped her head.

The three stood in silence, Gwen waiting for Helena to speak.

Somewhere outside, there was also the Hu family, probably wondering why the room was silent.

"I have a scholarship to Fudan," Gwen said at last. She was there. She may as well deliver her lines.

"That's nice," Helena said, but Gwen could detect her mother's breath quickening and could see the small vein below her jaw throb with an invigorated cadence.

"I have also left the House of Song," Gwen said without any particular emotion. "Grandfather asked me to forfeit any right to inherit to make way for Percy. I gave Percy the Kirin Amulet, the Song heirloom that Dad gave me."

Helena's eyes lingered on her daughter in disbelief, then considerably softened.

"I then told them that I’m cutting off all ties to the Song's inheritance. I said that I would do nothing to interfere and that they should expect nothing from me in the future."

Helena's eyes grew downcast.

"I am my own woman now, Mother. I am just me. Gwen. I belong to myself."

Helena moved her mouth a few times but said nothing. Watching her face, Gwen could almost read her thoughts. Regret? Shame? Helena was likely thinking of a life without Hai or one where she’d held onto the man. Her mother had always been beautiful, more so than Gwen herself, for all her passion and heat. Did her mother also have aspirations? Ambitions?

All Gwen could see now was a woman wallowing in regret.

But that was the choice her mother had made. It had been her choice to abandon them. She’d chosen Tang Hu, an admirer she’d known from the past. A man of the moment. A man who possessed the things she desired. A man who spoke softly to her and cared for her.

Would Helena even know what it meant to be her own woman? Her mother had never been her own woman. She was her father's daughter. She was the perfect girlfriend. She was Morye's wife and now Hu's. How could the summer insect know of the winter's furious rages?

As Gwen studied her, Helena remained silent, her mind somewhere Gwen could only imagine.

Slowly, meticulously, Gwen told the tale of her life since her kidnapping from Singapore. When she finally finished, her lips felt parched, and her body felt as drained as if she’d conjured Caliban for hours.

"Here, Mother. It's for you. A token of appreciation for Gwen Song's childhood. For whatever happy memories you did leave her, limited though they may be."

Her mother woke with a start, probably confused as to why Gwen had spoken of herself in the third person. She looked up at her daughter, but her gaze was drawn to the item she’d left on the table.

It was a crystalline cube with an attached note. A piece of fruit with white-jade flesh quivered inside.

A sudden luminance overtook the ambient light of the room.

"Goodbye, Mother. I've left instructions on top."

And with her last words, Gwen Song, the fruit of Helena's ten months of labour, was free.

"Why?" Mayuree asked once they returned to the car.

"I owe her," Gwen replied.

"Because she's your mother?" Mayuree appeared immensely confused by it all.

"Because she’s my mother," Gwen said. "Now we’re in the clear, insofar as I am concerned. That fruit should be good for a decade at least, right?"

"You needed that fruit, didn't you?" Mayuree said. Gwen needed the Vitae Fruit to supplement the growth of her emerald mana.

"You told me there were diminishing returns, and I've already had two," Gwen said.

"I also said I'd find you an Alchemist-Enchanter."

"It's just as well, then, that I've got one left," Gwen said. "It'll do."

"So… that's it?" Mayuree's expression was equal parts awe and confusion.

"You think that I’m cold, right?" Gwen tilted her head toward Mayuree inquisitively.

The diminutive Diviner inclined her head ever so slightly. "I won't judge."

"Would you believe me if I told you that I barely know the woman? That she's my mother only in the biological sense? That I feel no more connection to her than a character of fiction? That all that tethered me to her was a sentiment that had long since waned?"

Mayuree said nothing.

"That's alright." Gwen reached over and pinched her friend's cheeks, still adorably adorned with baby fat. The girl showed her sympathy by acting as Gwen's temporary stress ball.

Retracting her hands, Gwen leaned back into the thick leather of the ultra-luxury saloon and closed her eyes, hiding her face from her companion.

Bloody hell. Gwen realised she should have used waterproof liners. "Mia?"

"Yes, Gwen?"

"Wake me when we're home."

Chapter seventeen

The Age of Experience

Afew more days of tuition and exhaustive data gathering came and went like the weather.

While Gwen helped with cleaning, Richard returned from his extended outing looking like he’d gone through all kinds of muck and hell, smelling as though he'd lived the last two weeks in the belly of a whale.

"I really should have borrowed those cleansing glyph cubes from you," Richard joked as he opened the door to his apartment and stripped off his shirt to reveal a torso sinuous with toned musculature. Her cousin wasn’t a stocky man, but definition made his long-limbed body pleasing to the eye.

He filled the tub with water and dropped a pile of clothes into the soapy mess.

"Oh?" Gwen noticed the upgrade. "A medium ring of storage? Congratulations."

"This thing?" Richard waved his hand. "It's a small medium, just a cubic metre, nothing like yours. I won it in a duel, ha. Fair and square."

"Did you guys manage to finish the foundation for the Nantong Suspension Bridge?"

"Naw, it's gonna take a while." Richard shrugged. "Got some Freshwater Mermen that are set up near there. They keep attacking the crew. PLA wants to hammer out an agreement or send in a Purge team from the Nantong base. So it's going to take a week or so. I’m back here until it's sorted out. Come on, we're going to start university! I need to see the course advisor first, though. How are you doing in that regard?"

"Petra's taking care of it." Gwen smirked. "She's taken over as my mother and mentor."

"She's a top gal." Richard nodded approvingly. He covered his waist. "Do you mind? No free shows."

"Whoops, sorry." Gwen turned her back and walked into the living room.

Richard emerged ten minutes later, scrubbed within an inch of his life. "I am reborn," he moaned with relief. He flung himself into the double-couch on which Gwen sat, sending her almost bouncing off the other end. It was an old couch made by a master artisan, and the cushions were a little too enthusiastic in evoking Magi Newton's laws.

Catching herself on the armrest, Gwen pulled her shins under her buttocks to keep her feet warm.

"And apart from Mia and Marong, the other day I went and made a clean break with Mother. I spoke about our experiences, watched her stunned response to everything I said, then I gave her a Vitae Fruit and…”

Richard laid his head against the worn headrest and closed his eyes while Gwen gave the man a recount of recent events.

“…Richard?” Gwen looked over at her companion.

Richard was fast asleep.

Gwen chuckled. Feeling maternal, she pulled herself carefully from the couch, leaned over, and kissed her cousin on the forehead. She found a blanket and placed it over his chest and shoulders. The Shanghai spring was yet to pass, but the night air had begun to cling as the monsoonal moisture rose toward a wet summer.

She had two tests tomorrow—one academic, the other for academia, heralding the beginning of her tertiary education.

"Where are we going?" Gwen asked Petra when she emerged from her bedroom on Friday night. She had never seen her dress up so lavishly in all the months they’d been together. Her tutor, companion and cousin had on a little blue dress, and by God, she was magnificent! Petra even had lipstick on—a deep scarlet resembling two bold, bloody petals.

"I thought I told you. We're going to Mina's Karaoke Party at M on the Bund."

Her cousin pushed Gwen into her room, where a dress shimmered on the bed. "What is this?" She took the dress from her bed quizzically. It was beautiful—the fabric as soft as flowing water. At first, she’d thought the garment a simple one, but once she had it in her hands, she realised it was backless down to her mid-torso, tied together with a pink bow.

Her eyes glanced at the label. "A Miu Miu?" She gasped, looking toward Petra with incomprehension. The Miu Miu wasn't a gift from her mother, undoubtedly. Who else would buy her frivolously expensive couture? Not her father and certainly not Babulya. It couldn’t be Petra or Richard.

"Just put it on. We're going to be late."

"But—" The dress could pay for three months’ rent.

"Just do it already!"

Perhaps more frightening than not, the dress fit perfectly well. The hem reached just past an acceptable line of modesty, meaning whoever had ordered the dress either had supernatural powers of Divination or access to biometric data. Petra tied the bow for her and left two pink streamers reaching just past her shoulder blades. Gwen found a pair of white pumps to match the dress, then quickly made up her face.

Outside B1, Mayuree's chauffeur was waiting with the Maybach. "Young misses, the Mistress is waiting at the M already."

Petra shuffled into the rear seat and pulled Gwen in with her.

Gwen tried to figure out her mysterious benefactor. Tao? That would be unlikely as well. Mina would have gotten her something that sparkled.

"So, who—"

"Enjoy the mystery. Just go with the flow." Petra said.

Watching Petra's face hiding her secret joy, it wasn't hard for Gwen to piece two and two together. She was a busy woman, but she was also highly perceptive.

It was May. It was 2003.

And that meant she was going to be seventeen.

Seventeen!

By the gods! She felt young and old simultaneously.

Once she’d realised the date, Petra's rare attire, the karaoke party that Mina arranged spontaneously, the expensive dress on her bed, it all added up.

All she could now was relax—and pretend to be at least a little bit surprised.

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY!"

"Ghetto platinum! Barely legal!" Naturally, Tao did his best.

A cacophony of voices exploded as Gwen entered the interior of the privately booked function room at M on the Bund. Confetti, balloons and illusion-based projections filled the room as greetings showered her from head to toe.

"Oh my God. You guys shouldn't have!" Gwen did her best to feign her surprise. Thankfully, there was no need to falsify the happiness gushing from her in torrents of bell-like laughter.

Mayuree was there, as expected. Richard too. Petra, of course. A jubilant Tao. Mina clapped her hands adorably, standing next to Mayuree.

And Marong? Unexpected, but Gwen could see why he’d wanted to tag along. The man's eyes studied her like a smiling hawk. She still wasn't sure what Marong wanted from her or Petra. Maybe he wanted what all men wanted, though Gwen had a feeling Mia's eyeliner-loving brother's interest might veer toward the academic or business.

Her eyes scanned the rest of the suite. Babulya wasn't there, nor were her father or Uncle Jun.

Naturally, no Percy, but that came as no surprise.

There wasn't nearly enough family, but it was enough. The boon of having an older mind was knowing enough to know that other people had their circumstances. As a poet had once said, time made it easier to be wise.

"Babulya sends her regards." Mina must have caught Gwen's flash of disappointment. "And gave me a gift to give to you."

"I appreciate it very much." Gwen gave her cousin a wholesome hug, feeling the relief from her. "I'll thank her personally later."

The private function room was a VIP section of the M on the Bund's restaurant, which embedded karaoke facilities into the announcement system. Some enterprising Magitech Illusionists had managed to interface a large-scale vid-cast crystal into the wall so that one side of the room functioned as a cinema.

"Feel your body close to mine…" Tao was, incredibly, not only capable of singing regular songs but had an incredible voice to go with it.

The problem was that Gwen knew none of the songs, even if they sounded vaguely familiar. She could follow the tune in her memory, but the dissonance between the melody of her old world and the new meant it was impossible to predict the following note.

Fumbling with the words and halting with the cadence of her voice, Gwen did her best as her companions endured her lacklustre sing-along with grimacing faces. The sonorous torture resulted in a new understanding or misunderstanding—their very talented cousin couldn't sing for shit.

Thankfully, the aural assault lasted only a dozen tunes.

The cake wheeled into the room was enormous—a life-like lotus in green and pink, with an exterior that resembled jade.

Gwen beheld the spectacle. "That's a cake?"

"It's a Seven-Fold Jade Lotus from Taihu, the lake in Suzhou," Richard said. She knew he’d come to know many bodies of water surrounding Shanghai thanks to his labours. "Also, your singing is worse than your Flashbangs. You should open up a duel with a tune."

"Richard!" the girls chided.

"Hear! Hear!" Marong was the one man brave enough to back up Richard's assertion.

"Haha—" Tao bit his tongue when Petra turned her gaze upon him.

"That's my gift to you," Mayuree said. "Of course, we're all going to partake in it, but I got it especially for you. Make sure you eat the lotus heart at the centre. It'll help your emerald mana."

She lit the top of the lotus and the whole platform began to rotate slowly. One by one, the petals caught the Illusory flame, then the lotus "bloomed" as the thread that held it taut unfolded, turning it into a fuchsia-pink wonder. A delicious, sinus-clearing fragrance spread throughout the room, clearing Gwen’s alcohol-befuddled mind.

Mayuree urged Gwen to blow out the candle.

"I wish that we’ll remain friends and family forever, and I wish for good fortunes for all of us," Gwen said aloud as she blew out the flames. Of course, such cringy confessions were the etiquette, but all her companions returned her boast with fulfilled smiles.

Mayuree then retrieved a ball of pink-green petals from the lotus' centre—a cluster of buds not yet bloomed. "Here, the heart." Her expectant grin split from ear to ear as she presented her birthday gift to the woman who might yet one day save her life, directly or indirectly. "To your health."

Gwen took the lotus heart from the girl's hands and placed it to her lips.

"One gulp," Petra advised. "Don't chew it. That's the best way to consume mystic flora."

Taking her cousin's earnest advice, Gwen tried cramming the fist-sized ball of petals into her mouth. Thankfully, the leaves were soft and pliable, filled with water and capable of compression.

"Mmmph. It's bigger than I thought, I can barely fit—" She met Tao's degenerate expression. "Ghurrghk. Goddamn it, Peaches." Gwen coughed and choked.

The girls laughed as Gwen crushed the lotus between her teeth, massaging her chest a few times to ease the passage. As the magical flora dissolved, Gwen felt a burst of vital energy passing through her chest and into her abdomen, warming her instantly, as though she'd just been through a sauna. A sheen of sweat broke out on her forehead, arms and legs, beading across her exposed back. When she straightened once more, all her fatigue fell away.

Within her body, Almudj's essence rejoiced at the boon of primal energy, growing wildly as the motes multiplied, becoming more robust and invigorated.

When her body had finally digested the boon of the lotus, her skin positively glowed. It was an effect that should have come as no surprise, for the lotus was the essence of renewal; the heart of rebirth. For a transcendent moment, Gwen felt younger yet again.

Marong watched the girl carefully. He had initially questioned whether it was worthwhile importing the girl a dress. Now, he had no doubt the investment had been worth every HDM.

"Oh, you look amazing, Petra. Marry me," his sister was up to her usual antics, play the doe to gain the favour of her peers.

"Your skin is glowing too. How's mine?" Mina ran a few fingers up the Mineral Mage’s shoulder. Petra sternly slapped at the transgressors, soliciting a sharp squeak from the petite cousin.

Fighting the feminine distractions enticing his mind, Marong wondered about his sister's design on her "benefactor". The amount Mia had spent amounted to a quarter of her training stipend. Was the Void Sorceress worth such an investment? To his knowledge, these were non-contractual gifts, merely goodwill and likely a waste of time.

When his eyes finally left the girl’s sashaying waist, he noticed he wasn't the only one watching.

Richard Huang, close cousin to the Void Mage, grinned at him.

He grinned back.

I’m watching you, Richard's eyes said.

Good. Marong replied with a wink.

They smiled once more at one another.

There we go, Marong thought pleasantly. For men of virtue, friendships need not be complicated.

"Lea!"

Richard's spirit materialised, then squealed in delight as Mayuree passed the humanoid spirit a petal too. To Gwen's surprise, the entire mass of the lotus was more than enough to feed a dozen people, meaning that not only was there enough for everyone, Petra could even crystalise leftovers for Babulya.

With the cake finished, it was time for gift-giving.

The groups sat on the U-shaped couch built around the wall, with Gwen seated on an ottoman in the room's centre.

"The Lotus is from Mia, of course, and you're wearing my gift already," Marong declared. "I must say, it suits you perfectly, Miss Gwen. It was well worth the HDMs."

Gwen had suspected as much, for Marong had been admiring her all evening. She smiled at Smoke Mage nervously, allowing him the privilege of appreciating his gift a bit more. "Thank you so much, Mia. Marong too; such a thoughtful present. And Mia, your gift is too rare and too thoughtful."

"It's a trifle," Marong answered for his sister, crossed his legs, then gave her a look of approval. "The House of M is at your service."

Mayuree huffed and blocked Gwen from her brother's sight with her petite frame. "Marong, stop looking. Gwen's my friend."

"A good sibling always shares," Marong said.

The room laughed at the infuriated Mayuree's expense.

"This is from Babulya." Mina opened a small trinket box and retrieved what looked like another Ioun Stone. "This is a Stone of Clarified Thoughts. It'll help you concentrate and think, as well as improve your memory retention."

"How lovely." Gwen took the box and pressed it to her bosom. "I'll be sure to thank her as soon as I am able."

"This is from your father and Uncle Jun." Mina produced another package from her storage ring. "Uncle Jun provided the HDMs; your father picked the gift."

Gwen pulled open the packet, revealing an intricate pink box. She opened the box and saw the offending item. She snapped the box closed.

"What is it?" Petra leaned over.

Gwen's face grew hot.

Mina caught the label on the box. "Ooo," her cousin cooed. "I got a pair of those too."

Petra lifted the lid slightly, then slowly closed it. "Uncle Song is a strange but very thoughtful father."

"Ah, you got a pair of those." Richard must have recognised the box as well. "I've got several pairs myself, for men of course, and in briefs. Let me say that when you're adventuring in the wild, surrounded by God knows what, the last thing you want to do is to leave your party and find a place to have a good squat. Hell, I know of a place in Malaysia where there are larval parasites in the river that can crawl…" Richard wiggled his brows.

"Where do they crawl into?" Tao said. "Come on, dawg, don't leave me hanging."

Now scarlet, Gwen's stowed the box in her ring. "Tell Dad thanks. And thanks for the heads up, Richard."

"WHERE?" Tao insisted. "Like, up yer—"

"NO!" Mina pulled her brother aside. "Tao, shut it."

"Gwen," Marong’s eyes were two smiling half-moons, "As a soon-to-be goddess of Fudan campus, that thing is going to be indispensable to your image."

"Why?" Gwen asked. Does Fudan not have enough bathrooms?

Richard burst into laughter. "Well, I'd imagine that when we're out on quests and field duties, no one would like to find their goddess having a squ—"

"Richard!"

"NO!"

"I mean, there are parasites that—"

"WHERE?" Tao pulled at his hair. "Like—"

"Okay, thank you." Gwen waved them both away. God, these immature men were worse than children. Still, Goddess of the University? That sounded nice. There were plenty of pretty girls in university, though, and she likely had no time for a popularity contest.

"This is from me." Petra materialised a gift "box" as well.

"Pats, you shouldn't have. You're helping me so much already."

"Nonsense, here it is." Petra pushed a crystalline cube into Gwen's hands.

"A spell cube?"

"Yes," Petra said. "It’s from Master and me. We paid a special visit to the Tower and met with Chief Apothecary Dao of Pudong."

"This is…"

"A Regeneration spell of the seventh tier. The activation trigger is with me. I'll tell you later," Petra continued. "Even though it'll only keep for two months without my or Master's mending, it will mend your flesh, restore your health, even attach lost limbs. Its duration is unknown but I would suggest two hours minimum."

"A second life." Gwen embraced her cousin. "Thank you so much, Petra. Master Wen too. Your present is beyond precious. You must have spent CCs on this, Pats. I’m ever so grateful."

"I am happy you like it." Petra hugged Gwen back.

The others appeared equally impressed. There were no more than a dozen Magister Healers in the city and only two who were tier eight in their attainment of Clerical spells. Likewise, Magister Dao was as famous for his healing as his aloofness, meaning the cost in favours may well have exceeded something which could be accumulated, like CCs.

"Alright, now for our gift," Mina announced after Gwen had separated from Petra.

She, Richard and Tao walked beside a table covered with a dark cloth. Richard coaxed Lea into some hidden contraption behind the table. Tao began to incant his Illusory projection spells, filling the surrounding space with delicate notes of pale luminance.

Mina fiddled with a device for several moments. "Gwen, are you ready?"

Gwen nodded. What could it be? What was with all the fiddling and the secrecy? Was it a puppy or a kitten? Maybe a young magical beast? No, that would be absurd. She had two Familiars already.

"Here we go!" Mina pressed a button and there was a thrum of mana. The black cloth fell away.

A petite Asian girl about the height of Gwen's shoulder was standing before them. She had large, luminous brown eyes and prominent lashes that gave her a willful demeanour, punctuated by an aggressive mouth. When Gwen's eyes fell lower, she had full confirmation of who she now faced.

"Yue!" Gwen choked. "OH MY GOD, YUE!" She rushed forward to embrace her friend, still reeling from the fact that Yue was there. In Shanghai! What a gift this was! WHAT A GIFT!

"Gwen…" Yue began to move.

Gwen crashed into her friend, fully expecting to be cushioned by surplus flesh. Instead, Yue burst into a pool of water that drenched Gwen from head to toe.

"Eeeek!" Lea quickly renewed the illusion.

"I am not here, Gwen," Yue laughed at her bedraggled friend, who by now had water streaming down her dress and her face. "I am being projected via the LR COM device onto Lea in real-time."

Gwen paused her rollercoaster of emotions and oriented her mental bearings. Tao had provided the Illusion. Mina had provided the loaned LRC device. Richard had provided the medium for projecting Yue. The trio had managed to synthesise a combination of Magi-tech and Spellcraft that simulated a real "Yue" that Gwen could touch and feel, albeit not embrace violently nor pash lovingly. How long had they spent on this project? It must have taken weeks!

"Oh, you guys." Gwen felt unspeakable joy filling her heart. "Thank you. Thank you so much!"

The merry trio took their seats.

"Yue" joined the party and the music blared once again.

"Yep, Evee's gone on her merry way," Yue informed Gwen after the others had left them some room for privacy. "I’m training hard enough to spew blood every other night, haha. Alesia's pushing me pretty hard. I am dog-tired every night, I tell ya."

"God, I wish you were here," Gwen said.

"You think I don't?" Yue chuckled. "Wait for me; I'll come and show all your tier one upstarts what a real Fire Mage looks like."

"I eagerly await the day."

Once they’d caught up, Yue asked Gwen for the latest news and Gwen told her what had transpired.

"Seriously, fuck that old Chink." Yue huffed. "Asians can be so idiotic."

"Yue, you're Chinese too." Gwen smiled. "I've got Babulya on my side, though."

"And I want to beat the shit out of your useless brother." Yue kept going. "Why does he even need pubes? He should go back to suckling on his mother's tits."

"Alright, alright," Gwen said. "Jesus, your mouth is as foul as ever."

"Doing work with the military. Broke the two thousand mark just the other week," Yue boasted. "They're giving me a nick name like Master Alesia’s, ha! Imagine that."

"Amazing," Gwen said. "Mermen plaguing the city still?"

"Yep." Yue shrugged. "Although I wish there was something more significant to hunt other than stragglers in sewers. The crabs are pretty good, especially the big bastards. Taste divine with some soy sauce."

Ah, Frontier field cuisine, how I missed thee. Gwen allowed herself to indulge in the thought of Yue chewing on a crab leg after a few well-placed Walls of Fire.

Yue told Gwen that her opa missed her terribly but was otherwise doing well.

"I'll try to contact him when my LRC is installed," Gwen said. "Maybe a month or so at the longest. I can't wait to see Evee as well. How was it when she left?"

"Lots of tears, but she looked cute crying too, makes you wanna… haha." Yue chuckled sadistically. "She kept saying your name as well. I guess she's expecting you to call her soon."

"I'll try my best."

"Yep, Master says she's already moved into a dorm in London, near the Cambridge campus. She got a contact there to help Elvia set up. She's sharing a room with some other Cleric studying at Nightingale College. I don't know the details yet, but you can speak to her yourself soon."

"I will, thanks, Yue. I look—" Before she could finish, the illusion of her friend faded. The disappointment came so suddenly that Gwen could hardly react.

Tao's apologetic face appeared behind Lea. "Sorry, OoM," Tao said despondently. "Never tried Greater Image for like, hours."

"Sorry from Lea too. I am tired," Lea said, then returned to Richard.

"Machine's out of crystals as well." Mina tapped the LMC device. "I've lost the feed. Did you have a good time, Gwen?"

Gwen pushed herself from the ottoman and moved to the middle of the room. "Thank you, everyone," she announced, bowing deeply, feeling so thankful that her chest was on the verge of bursting open with happiness. "Thank you for everything!"

In less than one week, her university life would begin. Bathed in the spotlight, Gwen felt that her future seemed impossibly bright, so bright that for a split second, she blinked.

Chapter eighteen

Orientation

During Orientation Week, the campus bloomed with hanging streamers, pop-up stands, student restaurants, duelling arenas, and even dubious student-sponsored "idol" shows carried over from Japan and South Korea.

The rationale was the all-consuming desire for clubs to absorb new first-year students, for whom new blood and fresh meat meant the life and death of their funding.

Gwen had made it no more than a dozen metres onto the campus' main boulevard when catcalls of "Hey, beauty, over here! Join the [insert name here] club!" resounded from all sides. Perhaps even more frighteningly, over-enthusiastic students approached her with no concept of personal space, grabbing her arm and tugging on her dress.

"I'll be fine, thank you very much. No, thank you. Please, no! I’m fine. No!"

Her patience lasted all but three dozen stalls before she had to pull her arm forcibly away from zealous students eager to score a beauty. Whatever Gwen's background was, whatever her skills, having a face like hers to put on the club poster would be enough to drive up recruitment.

Once past the crowd, Gwen took note of the clubs, ranging from legitimate to frivolous. Even if she currently had no time for them, her eyes were drawn to the more impressive displays.

Of curiosity was the Dungeoneering Committee, a club organising monthly outings to dungeons in the outer regions surrounding Shanghai and offering a yearly Advanced Dungeoneering Expedition to hitherto "unexplored’ areas suitable for junior Mages.

Besides the dungeoneer's grand display of magical loot was the Fudan Competitive Duelling Club, renowned for its presence on the regional stage. The duelling club had a fine podium where two Mages, Fire against Earth, put on a spectacular exchange of offensive and defensive spells.

Further down from the main avenue and toward the Fudan Towers, she passed by a petting zoo of magical creatures set up by the Wildland Creature Appreciation Club. Looking at the variety of exotic and cuddly creatures, Gwen entertained the rapturous indulgence of molesting an assortment of fleecy, furry, fluffy things, all of which made her miss Elvia terribly.

Further along, mundane clubs lined the distance between the towering statue of Chairman Mao, many of which wouldn’t have been out of place in Gwen's old world. The Discovery Club, the Media Club, Independent Research Club, the Management Club, Literature Club, Politics Club, and finally clubs for dance, music, theatre, chess and art.

There were more semi-professional extra-curricular clubs also, such as the International Student's Activity Association, the Fudan Charity Consortium, the Student Helper's Committee, and something curiously called the Expansion Club, whatever that meant.

Gwen felt depleted by the end of the recruitment gauntlet, grumbling at the hour she would never get back. Nonetheless, she attended the Fudan Towers on the first day of Orientation Week for two specific reasons. One, it was the day she could formally apply to become a member of the Fudan Tower, which meant she could trade in her CCs for the LRC crystal projector in her apartment, and two, she had an appointment with the dean, Jiang Luo, to oversee her academic prospects.

Once past the barricade of human bodies, she made her way up the levitation platform and entered the Students’ Guidance Office, where an appointment for her to speak with her course coordinator awaited her. She straightened her dress and sat, waiting patiently for her turn.

"Nihao." A breath of cold airbrushed her cheeks.

Gwen turned to the ghostly visage. "Oh, God. You startled me."

The face that greeted her was an exquisite doll with the name Ellen, an Air Spirit that Magister Luo was trying to humanise.

"Master will see you now." Ellen bowed, then levitated through the lobby. Then, as if recalling her Master's command, she allowed her legs to properly manifest, landing on the floor with an audible clack.

"Dean Luo." Gwen bowed as she entered, instantly picking out his familiar face. There was another friend present as well—Magus Kumiko. The only stranger was a westerner who she had never seen before. "Magus Kumiko, sir, greetings."

"Gwen, how wonderful to see you again." Magister Luo clapped his hands expansively. He pointed to a visitor's chair set up in front of them. "Come, sit. There's much to discuss."

Gwen demurely sat and positioned her legs so they were angled towards her audience. She placed both her hands on her lap, turned her torso slightly sideways, then flashed her audience a winning smile. Magister Luo looked the same as always—frank and friendly. Magus Kumiko sat beside him and behind the remaining Mage, indicating that the Caucasian Mage was her superior.

"This is Magister Louis Birch, the head of our School of Conjuration. He's a specialist in manipulating Spatial Magic who studied extensively in Europe and the Americas. He also held a short tenure working with the Iron Citadel, the Eastern European Dwarven Consortium."

Gwen paid her respects again, tilting her head respectfully.

"So you are our Void Mage," Magister Birch said. "I have heard much about your progress from Magister Wen."

"She is too kind," Gwen said.

Unlike the academically-inclined Magister Wen, Magister Birch was a Mage who looked fastidious about his appearance. The man had clothed himself in a suit tailored to fit his lanky frame, punctuated with a vest that was patterned and threaded with dusky gold runes and paired with a pair of scaly Oxfords that hinted at expensive Enchantments. Above a tightly buttoned collar, the Master Conjurer's circle beard framed his grim lips. Beside him, the casual and intimate Dean Luo looked like a country uncle.

"I have your recommended courses for the upcoming semester. As your major lies in Conjuration, I shall be your course coordinator," Magister Birch said with a voice that Gwen felt was unnecessarily stern. "Magister Wen assured me that you’re ready to undertake the path to higher learning, despite your… Frontier public education."

Gwen ignored that little jab at her rural origins and received the document Ellen levitated through the air.

Conjuration: CJR1001

Supplementary Conjuration: CJS1001

Bestiary and Care of Familiars: FAM1021

Evocation: EVK1001

Advanced Spell-shaping: ASP1201

Utility Transmutation: UTT2003

Management: GEN100M

Economics: GEN100E

"Thirty-six units of Spellcraft, six units of General Studies. Have you consulted with Magister Wen regarding your suitability for these courses or would you like me to explain?"

"I am well-informed, sir."

"Good. Your confidence becomes you, and I hope you’ll keep it as our lessons advance. In any case, well met, Miss Song." Magister Birch's lips tapered shut.

The man was overtly polite and just a little hostile, Gwen felt. Perhaps he was averse to a student possessing the Void talent, or had she offended him somehow?

Before she could excuse herself, the dean began to speak. "Gwen, a moment if you will."

"Yes, sir?"

"You wish to apply for the International University Competition, correct? And would like to represent the Fudan team?"

"I do, sir," Gwen said.

Magister Birch raised a brow critically but remained silent.

"The current tryouts are in September, which is far too close for them to be feasible for you." Dean Luo informed her. "However, as you are a mid-year applicant, you should be well-positioned to apply for the 2004 competition. There is also the possibility of the 2005 September placement, or at worst, a 2006 placement should you delay your graduation until December."

"I understand, sir." Gwen brushed a strand of loose hair behind her ear. "I shall endeavour to achieve my goal next year."

"Ha!" Magister Luo said. "Such confidence. I should warn you, though, many of the top teams almost exclusively consist of multi-entry veterans."

"Hmmph!" Magister Birch snorted.

Dean Luo shot his tenured Magister an amused look before turning again to Gwen. "But I have the utmost confidence in you, Miss Song. I am sure your grandmother is looking forward to you bearing Fudan's name."

"I won't let you down, sir." Gwen ignored her future instructor's abrasive attitude. "I won't let Director Klavdiya down, either."

The mention of her babulya's name seemed to touch a nerve in Magister Birch, and Gwen caught the Conjurer furrowing his brows dangerously, knitting them together with a passion that exceeded mere annoyance.

"The Songs are ever so confident," Magister Birch chided her coldly. "Overconfidence seems to be a family trait."

"Louis," Dean Luo intoned in a low voice weighted with authority.

Magister Birch tensed, then resisted the dean's displeasure with a projection of his own. "I'll not show any favouritism," the Conjurer said. "You know that, right, Jiang? Certainly not to Miss Song here."

"I don't expect you to." Luo reached across and removed a piece of lint from Birch's shoulder. "She will surprise you."

"I will push her hard."

"And I expect nothing less."

Gwen sat quietly, still recovering from the stunning expulsion of mana that the duo had unleashed a moment prior.

"Your grandmother," Magister Birch said to Gwen, his face softening. "How is she?"

"She's hale and happy," Gwen replied uncertainly, unsure what the Magister's relationship to her babulya might be. "Do you know my grandmother?"

Magister Birch nodded stiffly, his eyes suggesting that somehow her question displeased him.

Dean Lou coughed loudly to break the uncomfortable silence. "Gwen, you're a busy lass. You may go and do your other errands now. Remember, my office is always open."

With Luo's blessing, Gwen hastily took her to leave, closing the double doors behind her.

What was all that? She pondered the abundance of expressions that had passed over Magister Birch's face. Should they give her cause for concern? Perhaps she should contact her babulya.

The doors to the levitation platform opened. Gwen stepped through the threshold and pressed the glyph for level three—Registration and Administration.

"Gwen!" Ellen's voice resounded an inch from her ear.

"Jesus Christ, Ellen!" Gwen almost jumped from the Levitation platform as Ellen materialised.

"Do you have it?"

"Do I have what?"

"Essence." Ellen poked a finger timidly at Gwen's heart, pressing into her bosom. "Lea said you possess a tasty Druidic Essence."

Feeling like a dealer in the night, Gwen double-checked that they were, in fact, alone, then quickly congealed a droplet of her Druidic Essence. "Alright, let's make this quick." She wanted to dribble a drop into Ellen's mouth, but Ellen guided her hand into her chest, where she felt a frigid swirl of Elemental Air so dense as to induce hypothermia in her fingers.

"Ah…" Ellen's morphic form momentarily lost its shape before reforming itself. "Thank you. I enjoyed that very much."

"Anytime." Gwen checked to ensure she was still in possession of her extremities. Thankfully, her fingers remained responsive.

"Okay, bye. Love you." Ellen dissipated in a burst of quicksilver Conjuration.

A Familiar who could teleport at will. Gwen was impressed. She wondered if Caliban or Ariel would ever get to the stage where they could function independently and if Ellen could help. At any rate, Gwen was not opposed to luring a few wayward Familiars with her essence candy van.

"It's all done. Welcome to Fudan, Miss Song." The woman at the counter smiled amiably, and Gwen returned the gesture with a smile of her own.

Gingerly, she took her cards, then retreated to a well-lit window to inspect her loot.

Gwen Song

Public Practice of Magic ID: 9840598 001

Evocation (3), Conjuration (4), Divination (1), Transmutation (1), Abjuration (1)

Quasi-Elemental: Lightning: Void

Class Permit (A)

Her Public Practice Licence had received an upgrade from B to A, implying she could incant Spells up to tier six when outside the city's magic exclusion zones. Without a higher-tier licence, destructive magic within the metropolis remained contentiously glued to internal policing.

She checked her student card.

Fudan University Student Card

Gwen Song

LOI: China, Shanghai

SID: 12598 S0203

POB: Sydney, Australia

YOA: S2 2003

LCSS: 2003–2006 (M) (Full)

Her card was a crystalline rectangle with the emerald watermark of Fudan's Qin-Dynasty logo embossed behind her name. There was also an unflattering picture of her face that projected an illusion when injected with mana.

The administration lobby was like any other in the university—large and spacious, open-planned with large waiting areas prefacing a dozen counters, behind which were data and file stores. Lacking networking technologies, the need for file storage space was immense. Even with the advent of imported American Magitech, the lack of data servers in this world severely limited the volume and detail of stored information.

Seeing row after row of storage, Gwen recalled the infamous East Berlin warehouses with files on nearly every German Democratic Republic citizen. Without Divination, Gwen concluded that the entire system would be untenable. Maybe there was a spell for that.

With her IDs done, it was time to visit the Tower proper. Gwen proceeded to the lobby of the Guanhua Building, then took one of the six levitation platforms ascending into the Fudan Towers.

Though seen by outsiders as a single Tower, the faux-factions of Fudan played a significant role in shaping the allegiances of their students. Guanhua Tower 1, commonly known as T1, was the busier of the two, whose students came from backgrounds that inevitably drove them to select the PLA Tower. T2, meanwhile, was a gathering place for self-proclaimed adherents to the Pudong Tower, as well as a faction of freebooters who dreamt, often naively so, that spellcraft was above politics.

It was T2 that Gwen ventured into, exiting on the twenty-fifth level into a lobby that overlooked the surrounding landscape. From the south side of its thickly-paned windows, Gwen could see her apartment block stretching the length of Guoding Avenue.

She took a ticket and waited, examining the busy lobby and the bumble bee milling of its busy staff. The place resembled a bank. There were counters for simple transactions, rooms for private consultations and a few conference chambers with large oval tables.

Hers was a simple transaction, meaning her ticket was up very quickly.

"Hi, here's my card." Gwen waited while the young woman ran her newly minted identification for forgeries.

"Your balance is one hundred and fifty-one CCs," the young woman announced. "What would you like, Miss Song?"

"I would like an LRC projector installed in my place of residence. One that will enable private conference with a friend in England," Gwen said.

"Would you like to loan or own?"

"What's the difference?"

"To own is fifty CCs, including a Tower technician installing the device. To loan is fifteen CCs, plus one CC per month, with a minimum hire of six months for fixed installations."

Gwen quickly did the math. If she remained in Fudan for three years, it might be worthwhile to buy, but there was merit in loaning as well. Overheads, sunk costs, depreciation and potential lost investments from spending too many CCs at once. "Can I return a purchased device for CCs?"

"No, ma'am, you may not."

"Alright, I'll loan then, thanks."

"No problems. Let me get the slates. Please fill in forms 1B and 23C." The girl returned a moment later, and Gwen completed the documentation.

"Is Friday okay for the technician to install? Your serviceman will be a certified Pudong Tower affiliate."

"That's fine," Gwen said.

"Very good. The minimum hire period is six months. I will deduct twenty-one CCs, leaving you with one hundred and thirty CCs. I've booked for installation within two days. Please be home between nine am and noon. Is there anything else I can help you with today?"

"No, thank you."

"Thank you, ma'am. Please feel free to browse the T2 CC Community Request Board. Have a nice day."

Gwen left the peppy administrator and sauntered over to a panoramic display that ran the length of the back wall with thirty metres of projections from floor to ceiling.

She read the requests to herself. "Looking for Abjurer of at least tier six and good reputation to join a party for Taishan's Emerald Forest Dungeon, minimum one hundred CCs and HDMs for the right applicant. Compatibility interview and training session essential. Original party members will vote on accepting or rejecting the applicant."

"Thirty-five CCs reward for information on Dragonkin in the Huashan region HS32B. Seeking type, size, age, gender and colour. Half of the payment now, half on confirmation."

"Looking to collect specimens of Wood Elementals, Nymphs, Dryads, Sprites. Exchanging between ten CCs to two hundred CCs. Offer lasts until CCs spent."

She also saw a few in red.

"URGENT: Seeking Diviners who can aid with discerning the whereabouts of Li Mingyue, a charlatan who has defrauded my brother, the Magus Fu Weiwei. Ten CCs for proof of Li's location. Fifty CCs for information leading to capture. One hundred and fifty CCs for Li brought in alive."

A projection crystal attached to the manhunt notice displayed the Mage known as Li Mingyue.

Gwen read another:

"URGENT: Tier five to seven Adventuring Party needed to reclaim Zhongming Island Mining Facility 11B–43QM. An amphibian infestation has halted operations. Bounty dispensed by provincial governor offering two CCs per head and fifty CCs for total restoration of the mine. The deadline is July tenth, after which the PLA will assume control of operations. A Cleric capable of Dispel Disease and Poison is essential."

By invoking the glyph attached to each notice, the viewer could trigger the contact details of each quest.

Gwen tried to activate one of the glyphs to no avail, forcing her to step back and watch the others.

One Mage approached the board, read a notice, then tapped a card against the quest glyph. A small mandala became visible, then the Mage passed the card through the glowing array and went his merry way.

My adventure permit. She quickly materialised her card.

Multi-Pass Adventuring Permit

Gwen Song

LOI: China, Shanghai

PPM: 9840598 001

Ethnicity: Eurasian

Eyes: Hazel/green

Hair: Black (warm)

Height: 180cm

Access rank: E

Quest attainment: N/A

Gwen took another ticket and returned to the counter. "Can I get my card updated here?"

"Of course, we can validate it for you via SC Adventure Central Office. Do you have a few moments?"

Gwen nodded.

She retrieved her card a quarter of an hour later. She noticed that there were now subtle changes.

Multi-Pass Adventuring Permit

Gwen Song

LOI: China, Shanghai

PPM: 9840598 001

Ethnicity: Eurasian

Eyes: Hazel/green

Hair: Black (warm)

Height: 181cm

Access rank: E+

Quest attainment: Hengsha Gila Rift (S)

Well, well, she was one centimetre taller.

The attendant explained that the plus behind the E meant that though she wasn’t eligible for D-rank quests alone, she was considered proficient enough to join a party for D-rank quests. When she further inquired about what the ranks implied, the clerk informed her that the Tower system ranked Mage's capabilities by reviewing their quest completion and then assigning a hidden score that allowed one to rank up. Rank was tied to Spellcraft proficiency, naturally, but it was also a measure of one's problem-solving, negotiation, charisma and other abilities that aided in resolving a quest.

"Say, out of curiosity. Do you know a Mage called Marong? From the House of M?" Gwen asked.

"Magus Marong?" the clerk mused. "The Poof and Puff? We know of him, yes."

"What rank is he?"

"A publicly available data sheet is available for one CC, ma'am."

"I just need an idea of what rank he is."

"The Puff duo is renowned for Magus Marong's versatility," the clerk explained. "In Peking, the Magus has undertaken many quests successfully. His rank is B. I have a list of his feats and spell list if you like, it's…"

"One CC, I know. Thank you for your time."

"Happy to be of service."

With all her errands done, she had time to explore the campus a bit before returning to the lab. Glancing at her fellow students' bright and happy faces, Gwen her heart soared at the thought of what was to come.

University. Tertiary education. Mastery of Spellcraft. Just four more days and her academic odyssey would begin!

Chapter nineteen

Lessons of Life

Gwen laid out her timetable with Petra's help, coding her classes in fluorescent green, blue, yellow and red. The weekday periods she had left which were "me time" was a meagre three.

Her reprieve was that she had half a Saturday and most of her Sunday. The condition was, of course, that Magister Wen didn't feel compelled to perform additional biometric measurements, or demanded to refresh her supply of Void and Druidic mana.

Dishearteningly, Gwen was surprised to find herself sharing no courses with Richard or Mayuree, much less Petra. Compared to her freshmen self, Richard was starting second-year courses for Conjuration, which meant he no longer shared the same level of coursework as Gwen. For Richard to work on specialising his Abjuration meant four of his six Spellcraft courses no longer involved Gwen's Conjuration. And for his remaining two classes, Richard opted for quest credits, striking two birds with one Catapult by receiving instruction while earning money.

This left Gwen with only Management and Politics, which did not have mandatory attendance and only required students to pass written exams and a viva-voce.

Likewise, Mayuree had to follow the advice of a Magister associated with the House of M. Though she had transferred from Peking to Fudan, there was no way her family would allow her to waste away her university credits. As such, their only shared course was Transmutation Utility and General Education.

Her first classes were Conjuration and Evocation, each taking up a three-hour block on the upper campus.

The instructor for Conjuration CJR1001 was unsurprising—Magister Louis Birch, the resident Master Conjurer. There were about sixty or so students in the first-year lecture, and it was only then that Gwen realised how rare Conjurers were.

When she’d attended Accounting 1001A in old-world Sydney, there had been twelve hundred students in the first year alone!

Considering that there were only sixty or so students in first-year class, the whole three-year Conjuration student body must have, at best, one hundred and eighty students.

Was one hundred and eighty a significant number? Gwen knew only her Master’s wisdom, that the Frontier didn’t lack Mages, but Mages with the potential to be Maguses and Magisters.

Was she a survivor then? She had survived a lot. She wasn't sure how her personal experience measured up against the others, but not many could boast of surviving an encounter with Sobel.

When she withdrew from her mind to reorientate herself, she felt the sensation of being watched. There were a group of young men stealing glances at her. A few girls up front also kept glancing back at her.

Was it the dress? Had she dressed frivolously? Or had word got out that she was a Void Mage?

"Gwen Song!" The voice of Magister Birch called across the auditorium.

"Sir?" Gwen stood, all six feet and then some to spare.

"Gwen Song, come to the front. You're distracting the other students," Magister Birch commanded.

"Yes, sir." Gwen did her best to ignore the eyes burning holes in her back and descended until she reached the last aisle before the podium. It wasn't so much that she hadn't been gawked at before but that she had never been invited to be gawked at by a lecturer.

Satisfied, Magister Birch continued the lesson. "Now that you're all focused, let's continue. Conjuration is considered the least diverse School of Magic, but don't let that fool you, for it is also one of the most versatile. Your tertiary study is nothing like your high school Spellcraft. You will be undergoing the general course under me, then you will have to choose specialisations in the second and third year. Whether you want to be a Creature Mage, a Summoner, a Translocation Specialist, Logistics Support, or remain generalised, that's up to you."

Birch's voice was pleasant, his gestures broad and illustrative. Even with Gwen now seated at the front, it took him only a few minutes to persuade the audience that she hardly existed.

Gwen relaxed. She had no desire to deal with a lecturer who wanted a beef with her and would introduce her to the class as "Well, well, well, if it isn't Mr Harry Potter, the chosen one." Which was lucky, for the man did have an Alan Rickman air, especially if Birch could only make the hair darker and greasier.

Magister Birch continued. "…or one could be a Translocation Mage. Observe." There was a flash of silvery Conjuration mana. Magister Birch rapped the inattentive Gwen on the head.

Another flash of Conjuration silver followed. Her lecturer disappeared and reappeared in the furthest row of the enormous auditorium and slapped a sleeping student on the head.

The auditorium laughed.

"You too will be able to walk this Path if you are keen, diligent and hard-working."

Another near-instantaneous Dimension Door and Magister Birch was again at the dais. "You are already the best, are you not?" Birch reminded his audience. "Study hard. Then study harder! Do not sully your entry scores. Welcome to Fudan, ladies and gentlemen. We expect only the best from you."

The auditorium applauded.

Louis Birch motioned for silence. "Now, let's go over the basics. I will randomly ask some of you to supply some basic information on the semantics of Conjuration…"

Fearful of further embarrassment, Gwen listened attentively to the responses provided by each of the selected students as Birch jotted down each point on a horizontal slat that projected what he transcribed onto the back wall.

"You there, answer this question on the board."

"The creatures are then transported through the Astral Plane into the material,” someone a few rows above answered.

The lecturer shook his head and told the student to sit down. His finger then lowered from the middle of the theatre until it rested on the lower row. Of course, there was only one person seated there. "Gwen."

Was she the only person Birch knew by name? Nonetheless, she stood, recalling the theory Petra had taught her and Magister Wen had explained in detail. She took a deep breath. Public speaking? That was like breathing to her.

"Familiars are essentially Elementals, sir. They don’t exist except as a part of the Mage's anima or subconscious psyche, spell-locked into a persistent phenomenon and nourished by the Mage's practice of magic. When conjuring such a creature, the spell directly interfaces with the Mage's most compatible sigil—in this case, Conjuration—and then materialises in the material world.

"For higher-order Familiars who possess their own spirit, and by that nature, sapience, the morphic form locks onto the creature's anima. These are the only creatures that can exist independently from the Conjurer. Furthermore, when the Conjurer dies, these creatures continue to exist on the Material Plane, so long as they can sustain their astral presence."

"Enough. Very good." The Magister gave her a round of claps. "Continuing onto the matter of the summoning of objects…"

Gwen sat down, the object of more eyes than she would have liked.

"Hey, that's Gwen Song. Over here!"

When Gwen walked into the Evocation lecture two hours later, two young men and a woman waved their arms to get her attention. She recognised them from the Conjuration lecture and approached the trio with amiable congeniality.

"Olá." Gwen hailed with one hand. "You guys are from the Conjuration lecture."

The trio introduced themselves.

"Lily Li," the girl announced. She was the shortest of the bunch, measuring just over five feet.

"Jon Wong."

"Pu Un."

The Conjurers exchanged handshakes.

"I love your dress." Lily sat next to Gwen, her eyes scanning Gwen like a biometric instrument. "Mao, you're a tall one!"

"Thanks. I’m not that tall," Gwen replied modestly.

"You're an Evoker too? What tier?" asked the man unfortunate enough to have a homonym of "poo" for a name. Thankfully, in Mandarin, the plosive Pu was an entirely generic syllable.

"Three, barely," Gwen replied, woefully aware that she could have said zero and the boys would still have flattered her.

"Conjuration is technically my minor school. Evocation is my main," Pu pointed out smugly. "I am just past tier four at the moment; tier five is probably going to take a while."

"I am tier three in both," Lily stated boastfully, then added a little zest to her brag, "My father is the Chief Arbitrator of the Jiading District."

"Wow." Gwen made herself sound awed, having no idea where Jiading was. For all she knew, it could be a rural village of ten thousand NoMs. Thankfully, Lily seemed pleased with her response.

"How about yourself?" Gwen asked the remaining young Mage.

"I am not a Conjurer," Jon replied softly, blushing slightly. He looked the bookish type. "I am tier four in Evocation, though. I am studying to be a materials engineer. My other school is Transmutation. I… I wasn't in the earlier class with you."

"Materials engineer sounds amazing." Gwen's smile was enough to turn the young man beetroot. "There's a great future in it for sure."

"We went to the same high school together," Lily informed her. "We're number nine."

When Gwen appeared confused, one of the boys helpfully informed her that Lily meant "Number nine Hong Qiao International School".

"Ah, of course." Gwen smiled as if she understood the gravity of the announcement. "From the same school, and all of you have gained proficiency in two sigils? That's amazing."

"Heh, it's Hong Qiao's speciality." Pu scratched his head. "What element are you?"

Before Gwen could answer, the sound of a set of massive doors opening interrupted them. Abruptly, the students’ conversations were at an end; their lecturer had presented herself.

The instructor for Evocation was a British woman in her late thirties whose appearance hinted at a military background. From the gait of her walk and the way her presence dominated the auditorium, she was a ranked officer. Gwen had seen many high-ranking Military Mages on the Frontier, and this woman had a similar presence.

Her hypothesis was proven when the instructor spoke. "Acolytes, Mages, future Magus and Magisters. I am your instructor, Captain Carol Young. You may call me Captain Young or Magus Young." The sorceress's formal attire, a starched blue blouse, gave her the look of an unsheathed blade.

Magus Young's voice boomed across the auditorium. "Welcome to Evocation—the foremost school of Spellcraft. From the most primitive days of humanity, it served to protect us from the wilderness, the Wildlands, the demi-humans and the magical beasts. Evocation is the magic missile that defeats the darkness. It is the basis by which our cities survive, the beginning and end of our defensive lines. It is the school of Spellcraft that rests at the throat of the enemy, ready to blow their brains outwards."

Gwen waited for a magical display, but none seemed forthcoming.

"My fellow Evokers, welcome to Evocation 1001."

Polite applause greeted the Magus. "My Element is Earth. I am a Transmuter-Evoker, a senior Battle Mage." Then gently, as if emphasising the gravity of her following words, Magus Young rose into the air a few inches.

"If you are studying Evocation to supplement your other schools, good for you. If you are studying Evocation as your major School of Magic or as a specialist, I implore you to undertake Transmutation, at least Utility Transmutation UTT2003 taught by Magus Luo. A Battle Mage without mobility is a liability. Remember that."

Magus Young patrolled the lecture stage. "In our program, we will begin by rehashing the basics, followed by an extensive program on AOE and the merits of Danger Close, how to avoid Friendly Fire, then short and long-range assault doctrines. There will also be spirit demonstrations from your seniors in the latter half of the term, and finally, we will have practical exams every four weeks for the twelve-week term. You are expected to put between five to ten hours of practice into the range during this time. Remember, you cannot enrol in Evocation Two subjects and further specialisations if you fail the program. Any questions?"

There were questions, of course. There were far more Evokers than Conjurers. The class was almost two hundred strong with an even spread of women to men and even two dozen foreigners.

A particularly cheeky young man asked if the instructor was married. The ageing woman had a sophisticated charm which Gwen suspected brought out the immaturity in the youngsters.

"Was. My husband was eaten alive by a Twin-Headed Senai Wyvern during the Defence of the Suez Canal in 1993. My son perished in the same year in the Sinai in a different incident. Any other questions?"

There were none. Only respectful silence.

After that, the lecture proceeded without interruption.

With the first class of Evocation over, her new acquaintances invited Gwen to dinner. She declined, however, as her late afternoon schedule was split between Petra's tuition and practice, not to mention Caliban's feeding time.

"Before we go, what element are you? We were interrupted earlier," Lily asked, then volunteered herself. "I’m Fire."

"Void and Lightning," Gwen answered briskly, keeping her tone as calm as possible.

"How nice!" Lily gushed.

"Oh." Pu's face paled.

Jon had no words.

Perhaps realising what Gwen had just said, Lily joined Jon's stunned silence.

"See you guys next week in Conjuration." Gwen quickly made her escape, materialising a shawl and wrapping it around her shoulders. Spring persisted, but the chilling wind as the sun fell hinted at wetter days to come.

"Tired?" Petra tapped on her slate as Gwen's attention wandered for the second time. She was usually far more focused, but all things considered, she had sustained six hours of lectures with only an hour’s break in between.

"Dog-tired," she replied, borrowing a phrase from Yue. "I think I dozed off when you started on the astral compression algorithms."

"Take a break." Petra pointed at Gwen's mug of tea. "Heat!" A simple cantrip was enough to reheat the liquid until it steamed.

Gwen took a sip and pulled her legs in under her. "Our lecturer, Magus Young, said that her husband died defending the Suez Canal." She'd been daydreaming about the Magus' words since the lesson had ended.

The Suez Canal was such a famous piece of old-world history that even Gwen knew it off by heart. It had been built by the Suez Canal Company in 1869, connecting the Mediterranean Sea to the Red Sea through the Isthmus of Suez. Widely perceived as a miraculous feat of engineering, the canal offered vessels a reduction of over seven thousand kilometres in travel time by connecting the North Atlantic and northern Indian Oceans. It had been and continued to be a critical piece of infrastructure joining the Middle East to Africa.

It didn’t take a stretch of the imagination to acknowledge how vital the canal must be in a world lacking mass air transit.

"Magus Young? The Evocation Professor?"

"Yeah, do you know anything about that?"

"The canal or the professor?"

"Both."

Petra took a few sips of her tea. "The canal has always been a great point of contention between two ancient nations. You’ve got Israel on one side and the Egyptians on the other. Both have lineage and Spellcraft far more ancient than ours, and they've been at war since the epoch of god-kings."

"Right, and Magus Young?"

"Magister Young, your instructor's husband, was a part of the British Mageocracy Peace Keeping force sent by the UN Council to ensure that the two sides could tear each other apart without tearing the canal apart. The Israelites are Golem specialists, while the Egyptians relied on, I suppose, their sanctioned form of Necromancy.

"During 1993, the Israelites accused the Egyptians of crossing into the Sinai. They crossed over into Egypt themselves in response. As a result, all hell broke loose for a year or two down there. Then the demi-humans, involving a sect of the Cult of Ammit, a coven of Medusas, as well as local legions of Jackal-men, all somehow got involved. Battle lines collapsed, and the Sinai became a free-for-all for about six months.

"After scouring the desert, the Israeli forces returned to Magus Young what was left of Magister Young's body to prevent certain parties from taking advantage. The body parts of a Magister were good material, and The Cult of Set has a reputation."

"Christ." Gwen genuinely felt for her instructor.

"As for the rest, her son died a few months later against an Undead incursion in the incident called the Siege of Ismailia in 1994. I think Young gave up on the Mageocracy after that. She travelled around for a while, ultimately ending up here as an instructor. I remember Master saying that she knew Dean Luo. Maybe they were colleagues in the past?"

Gwen nursed her tongue against the hot tea. "The poor woman."

"It's a common enough story." Petra rested her cup. "Maybe one day, you or I…"

"Knock on wood." Gwen rapped the oaken table, interrupting the morbid Petra. "Say no more."

The two shared a knowing smile as their eyes met.

"Had enough of a break? Let's continue," Petra said. "We've still got to cover 17.2–3 from Goulding's Core Primer. Three more chapters, and it's all over."

"Okay." Gwen slapped her cheeks with both hands, forcing herself to drop Magus Young's nonchalance from her mind. "Let's do this."

Chapter twenty

A Bob on the Snout

Tuesday.

Gwen was up again at eight am, ready to meet the world. Richard was already gone, having left at daybreak for his questing credits. Outside, a cloudy horizon hung over the vista, with looming clouds hinting at thunder.

Gwen took precautions by switching to her thrift boots and jeans, then daringly chose an old tee that left a smidgeon of flesh exposed about her navel.

An exposed midriff. Part of her felt ashamed, yet at the same time, she was also thrilled and delighted by her second chance at youth.

Whatever her choice of attire, Bestiary and Care of Familiars took place on the lower campus, south of Guoding Road. According to Petra, Daishan Stadium tapped into a leyline that bisected the Guanhua Towers and the five-path epicentre of Wujiaochang. That was the reason for its tiered construction—a visual spectacle that reminded Gwen of latticed rice paddies as she descended the stairs into its daunting concavity.

Nearer the bottom, the arena's markings indicated it was the home ground of the Fudan University teams, where various competitors vied for magical dominion across a dozen Spellcraft sports. It was also where the final selection of the Fudan Inter-University team would take place. First, they would be shortlisted based on accomplishments and accolades. Then, the top twenty would undergo contests to ultimately produce five core and five reserve members to participate in the illustrious International Inter-University Competition.

Gwen's lesson took place in the arena's interior, within the containment array. Here, the facilities double-dutied in the off-season as holding pens for summoned beasts and Familiars, allowing Creature Mages to perfect their skills and practice fending off various magical monsters.

Inside the spacious chamber, she saw a few familiar faces from Conjuration and new students who should be her seniors. As she entered the underground, an instructor arrived from the bay door where two vice-like steel panels unfurled, resembling a giant maw. The barrier was a bulkhead freight section; Gwen recognised the contraption from her journey to Singapore. Should the force shields fail, the steel bulkheads could significantly impede all but the most powerful of elemental Familiars.

The instructor was a grizzled Asian man with a square face and small beady eyes glinting with intelligence. His distinguishing feature was a deformed nose as if someone had struck its bridge repeatedly. Compared to a prideful Senior Mage, the shabby, dishevelled attire of Hufei reminded Gwen of an NoM machinist.

"My name is Instructor Chen Hufei," he said. "I am a simple Conjurer, not a Magus and certainly not a Magister, so no need for formalities. My highest rank in the PLA was as an NCO, so don't worry about that either."

A slight murmur echoed around the underground chamber.

"I have, nonetheless, served with the forty-second Battalion and eighty-third PLA Canton Division across four tours and two purges. Since retiring from the PLA, I’ve held the position of warden for the Canton Wildland Reserve for over two decades. Rest assured that the training you will receive is sound and tailored to your specific needs. Any questions?"

The room had no complaints.

"Good. For those in possession of spirits, proceed to sectors five to twelve. I will be overseeing your training. For those of you with mundane Familiars, proceed to sectors twenty-two to twenty-seven. Sergeant Pei will be overseeing your training."

The groups began to split. As Gwen expected, those with spirits acted with justified arrogance.

"Is there a Gwen Song?" Chen called out suddenly.

"I am here, sir," Gwen answered.

A dozen pairs of eyes from both sides fixed upon her. Her exposed midriff felt suddenly cold. A part of her was prideful, but her wisened mind remained self-conscious of her youth.

"You're with this side."

"Yes, sir." She peeled from the first group to expressions of confusion, disappointment and envy, then joined the second group, whose faces remained dismissive. No one would claim to be number one in Spellcraft, but extreme competitiveness typified the academic field. In a nation of old rites and fathomless history like China, with its Clans and sects, the same truth was more explicit than in the west.

There were five members in Gwen's new group, four men and one girl, making her the youngest by far. Gwen recognised the girl as a member of her Conjuration class, which made the men second or third years.

Gwen followed without complaint as the team made for section five.

Within the arena's underground stage, the sectors were simple micro-arenas closed off by bulkhead doors a dozen metres wide and four metres high, which ran parallel and perpendicular to the massive concrete pillars that held up the superstructure above.

Hufei stopped, then stood like a drill sergeant. "Alright, everyone, introduce yourselves."

Gwen's companions arranged themselves in chronological order by seniority. Once they were done, Gwen stood awkwardly in the back row, looming almost half a head taller than the tallest man present. She was the same height as her instructor, but her ankle boots added another inch-and-a-half atop her gangly frame, giving her the likeness of a crane among bobbing chooks.

"Nihao! I am Ji Lu. I am a tier five Conjurer, and this is my spirit partner, Ahu." A burst of flames escaped the Mage's chest and formed a cat with intelligent eyes. Upon closer inspection, it was clear that the orange tabby was a tiger spirit with great potential.

A round of claps echoed through the chamber.

"Hello, my name is Chan Baoguo. I am a tier four Conjurer and tier three Transmuter. This is Feifei." Baoguo's animal was a water bird of some sort, perhaps a crane or a shallow water stalker. The summoned crane obediently followed its Master and stood to the side, clearly fully understanding its partner's orders.

The following student had an unassuming water sprite as well. It seemed that water spirits were the more common kind, but that came as no surprise; Earth was, after all, a blue planet.

Candidate four announced himself with a burst of vibrant blue-green energy that leapt from his chest and frizzled the ceiling above them. "Wanli!"

"Scree!" A hawk's screech pierced their ears.

A Lightning Elemental! Gwen's bosom rose and fell with awe as the young man announced himself to be Lu Fung from the Nantong Fungs. Gwen recognised the Clan name, as it belonged to Dai, the inheriting son of the police commissioner of Shanghai's Metropolitan Security Bureau. Though she and Dai had since amicably resolved their differences, Gwen wondered if this particular Fung would recognise her.

Lu's spirit hawk soared through the air majestically before returning to him. Gwen wanted to whistle. Now there was a proper spirit of thunder and lightning! Once the crackling lightning faded, they could see that the creature was a sparrowhawk.

Wanli, whose name meant "ten thousand li", alighted on its Master's shoulder, making Gwen coo with desire.

"Eunae, your turn," the instructor said to the girl in front of Gwen.

The girl nodded, seemingly intimidated by the display put on by Lu's hawk. "My name is Eunae Lee, and this is Luyi." A mote of pale emerald energy manifested in front of the girl, as something akin to a fig tree materialised, first forming four legs, a lumbar, then a slender neck, a tail, liquid eyes, and a black, pointed nose.

It was a deer, and one that was beyond adorable! The forest spirit looked at its surroundings with eyes sparkling with intelligence, radiating a warmth that Gwen had long missed.

A nature Familiar! The girl, this Eunae, possessed a sprite just like Elvia.

"Luyi." The girl cuddled the deer's neck.

"Eeee!"

Her Familiar struggled from its Master's embrace and bolted right toward Gwen.

"Luyi!" Eunae's eyes filled with fear as the flesh of her flesh, the quintessence of her Conjuration, the child of her imagination and her contracted soul mate, abandoned her and ran head-first into Gwen's legs. Upon reaching Gwen, it began to nuzzle her, seeking the source of Gwen's mana.

Gwen looked up with a horrified expression at the poor girl, who was now on the verge of tears.

Luyi gazed up at Gwen with its soulful brown eyes, too human to belong to a mere beast, and made a puckering motion with its lips. "I know you’ve got it. Give it up!" it seemed to say to her.

No, your Master is watching! Gwen grimaced at the forest-friendly critter tried to bedevil her into yielding a trickle of her Druidic Essence. "Go back to your owner," she said.

The faux wood-doe bleated adorably at her. It then rudely nudged her thigh gap. The men snickered.

Gwen swore under her breath and bodily picked up the doe, much to the dismay of Eunae. She then dragged it across the concrete to deposit it in its owner's lap.

"Keep a leash on your Familiar," Gwen said sternly.

"Y-yes!" The girl nodded furiously, stroking her precious spirit doe.

Now that Gwen had taken a better look at Eunae, she could see that her classmate was actually Korean.

"It would appear your lack of authority over your spirit is as serious as your instructors say," Instructor Chen observed dryly. He then turned to Gwen. "Miss Song, if you would finish the introductions?"

Gwen left Eunae and found a safe spot far away from the others. She then moved another ten paces or so away.

"She must have a big Familiar," someone commented.

"How big can it be?" another one of her peers scoffed.

"She's not a Spirit Conjurer, right?"

"Heh, I bet she's got connections higher up. That's why the instructor is personally taking care of her," Lu Fung said sardonically.

No one had humanoid spirits, Gwen observed as she primed her body. Richard's Undine must be a dream.

"You may proceed." Instructor Chen glanced at the other students with an expression of expectant schadenfreude. If so, Chen must have gone over her records already.

"Ariel!"

Gwen called out her Lightning beast. The marten materialised, rolled, then struck a pose. It then sniffed the air and ran toward her, making infinity tracks around her legs as it joyously celebrated rapturous freedom.

"Haha! What the hell?" Lu could be heard chuckling from across the threshold.

"It's a mundane marten."

"A common beast."

"Wait, it’s not a spirit?"

"It looks altered, though. It's got horns."

"Doesn't change the fact that it's a dumb animal. Haha, what a waste of talent!" Lu snickered.

Gwen blushed, annoyed at the insults, and called Ariel to her. She scooped up the marten in her arms and kissed it on its forehead.

Eunae, meanwhile, became even more confused. She was probably wondering why her Familiar had run to Gwen. She held onto Luyi tightly, her eyes full of incomprehension.

Instructor Chen made a motion that told her to get on with it. Gwen stepped back.

"Caliban!" she called out.

A slit opened in-between time and space.

"What the f—"

"She has two?"

"Impossible!"

A long, spindly leg cut through the air before stabbing into the concrete floor. Another soon joined the first, then another and another, forming a cluster of disjointed, anorexic fingers searching for nourishment.

As a walking nightmare, Caliban emerged in its wholly uncensored Lovecraftian glory. Her Familiar's back carapace pulsed like a beating organ as it walked, its semi-translucent plates of obsidian bleeding ambiguous grey goo as it flexed. When the final length of its tail emerged into the Material Plane, it extended a pair of blue-red tentacles from its slurping underside and caressed Gwen's cheeks.

"Wocao, that's fucking magnificent," Instructor Chen said. "What a Buddha-cursed monster! It's like something that crawled out of the nine-fold underworld."

Following the instructor's comment, a moment of silence hung in the air, humming with the tension of a taut violin string.

Then all hell broke loose.

"MAO’S BALLS!"

"RED STARS!"

The junior Mages took a defensive stance and even manifested their shielding spells. Their Familiars stood at their sides, ready to defend their Masters.

"Luyi!" Eunae's doe bolted right into its mistress and bowled her over, then fled the scene, sprinting across the hall in full gallop. Lu Fung's sparrowhawk rose into the air and bellowed a challenge, sending out a shower of sparks. The Mage himself had turned as pale as a ghost but kept up his guard even though his knees began knocking.

"Shaa, SHAA?" Caliban sensed, as Gwen had, the delicious mana radiating off Eunae. It began to skitter toward the Korean Healer for a closer inspection. Caliban might not have possessed a brain, but Gwen felt that Cali might have mistaken Eunae for someone like Sufina, who had fed it sumptuous feasts of mana.

Instructor Chen muttered an incantation under his breath but did not move to stop her Familiar.

"Caliban, stop!" Gwen commanded her creature. "Hey! Cali! I said stop!"

She felt no malice or hunger from Caliban and pulled at her creature half-heartedly as it dragged her along toward the shaking Eunae.

The poor girl fell onto her buttocks and desperately called for her Familiar. "Luyi!" Luyi appeared before Eunae in a flash of silver Conjuration. "Luyi, protect me!"

Luyi took one look at Caliban, then fled the scene like a bandit on a fast horse, or deer, as the case may be. It reminded Gwen of the infamous video in which a mother doe abandons its fawn to a cheetah with the decisiveness of a meth dealer fleeing the cops.

"Luyi…" Eunae's face was a mess of snot and tears as Caliban approached, likely praying to a higher power she would not soil herself. Gwen understood the girl's troubles well, feeling the greatest sorrow and sympathy for herself and her victim.

"No! No!" The girl shouted in Korean.

"SHAA! SHAA!" Caliban didn’t know Korean.

Gwen slapped Caliban on its cephalothorax, bidding it to back away before the girl became permanently deaf, dumb and insensible. "Caliban!"

"Feather Shard!" Lu Fung commanded his Familiar.

The attack came out of nowhere. Even as the other three junior Conjurers relaxed, probably realising that the monstrous vision was no danger, Fung had entirely lost his cool.

Perhaps the Master of Wanli had not thought Caliban's skittering approach was benign, maybe the induced hysteria had overwhelmed his shuddering will, but the reality remained that Lu Fung opened up a barrage from his spirit hawk.

It was a deadly, long-range AOE Lighting assault that Caliban could withstand, Gwen could dodge, but not Eunae.

"Caliban, help her!" Gwen commanded. Unlike other elemental Familiars, Caliban's physical form regenerated as long as she provided the vitality. Therefore, unlike her fellow Creature Mages, she didn’t need to worry about Caliban's health.

Her creature needed no coaxing to protect the Healer. The Void-spider lumbered over Eunae with supernatural haste and flared out its carapace. Below, Eunae came vis-a-vis with an unmitigated view of Caliban's second mouth, where a slit opened to reveal a lamprey's mouth with multiple tentacles, each with independent mouths, all waving at her.

As the shards of bladed lightning rained down around the beast and the beauty, Caliban reported that the Korean girl had fallen unconscious.

"Idiot." Instructor Chen finally invoked his Familiar even as he swore at the Fung's scion. "Huonu!"

A stench of rotten eggs and brimstone filled the air as a massive three-pronged claw reached out from thin air and seized the hovering lightning-hawk, sending it crashing into the ground. A pulsating mass of scaly flesh followed, crimson with flowing magma and smoking with ash and sulphur.

The gathered students opened their mouths in awe as they witnessed the full fury of an upper-middle tier spirit Familiar—a Magma Salamander.

Chen's partner was no common spirit. A true Salamander possessed not the amphibious likeness of a creature in-between frog and newt, but a half-humanoid giant with a female upper body and the lower body of a snake, akin to that of the Greco-Lamia. From her Master's vague lessons, Gwen knew that these Salamanders were citizens of the Elemental Plane of Fire, living in colonies in a place called the Brass City.

Before Gwen's feelings of awe had extinguished, Chen's Familiar completely overpowered the Lightning hawk. Then, as quickly as it had manifested, Huonu faded from the scene, leaving behind globs of magma and an unbearable stench of sulphur.

"Wanli!" Lu Fung glared at the instructor in shame and fury. Gwen winced, for the Familiar would likely take weeks to restore.

"Intemperate fool," Instructor Chen howled at the cadet. "All of you, attention!"

The lucid students quickly stood to attention. Gwen helped Eunae to her feet but couldn't stop her sobbing. Meanwhile, Lu stared defiantly at his instructor, his rage clearly simmering under a barely controlled exterior.

Instructor Chen nodded approvingly at the three seniors but then turned on the girls and the inconsolably furious Lu.

"You three are the worst Creature Conjurers I have never seen!"

"How dar—oof!"

Instructor Chen punched the air before him, and two metres away, Lu Fung fell to the floor and discharged the contents of his breakfast.

"Shut up, shit stain!" The militant instructor's voice was like a thunderclap. "This is your last warning. Another strike and you are out of my class. I will personally see to it that Fudan removes you from its roster. Do you understand?"

"I-I understand," Lu spat between gritted teeth.

"What was that?"

"I UNDERSTAND, sir!" Lu shouted back at the instructor.

"Now stand back up and act like a man, you boot scum! Do you think you're top dog because you have a mid-tier spirit? Think again, worm! Your Clan bought you that Thunder Hawk. You didn’t tame it. You didn’t fight for it. You didn’t scale the twenty-thousand steps of Kunlun's Evergreen Peak to steal the egg from the Heaven-Splitting Crag. You're nothing without your Clan!"

Lu remained standing, seemingly held upright through the sheer force of his indignation.

"You don't even know how to control your hawk's ability. You can't aim the AoE. It cannot even identify friend or foe. What a waste of a beautiful spirit on a piece of amphibian shit."

Eunae stood shaking and shivering no more than a dozen metres beside the screaming instructor, while Gwen commanded Caliban to skitter away quietly and hide behind her. Ariel, meanwhile, dug into her T-shirt and quaked with terror.

As expected, the Healer was the instructor's next victim. "Where is your Familiar, Miss Lee?"

Eunae looked at the instructor as though he had demanded she strip down and give birth. Her face was equal parts incomprehension and stunned terror.

"WHERE IS YOUR Familiar, CONJURER?"

"Luyi!" Eunae wailed helplessly, summoning her Familiar once again. The girl was in tears, crying out for her Familiar to appear while trying to retract her bubbling snot. When her doe finally materialised, it took one look at the instructor and turned to flee.

"Luyi," the instructor said in a voice filled with command. "Luyi, stay."

To their surprise, the skittish doe dropped to one knee.

"Do you want to protect Eunae, Luyi?" Instructor Chen spoke calmly and softly.

Luyi bobbed its head vigorously.

"Then you can't let her fear affect you, okay? I know that's how an empathic link works, but you have to know that you're stronger than your mistress. You're her protector. Do you understand?"

Luyi nodded again. That was the thing with spirits. They understood human speech and they understood human empathy.

"Okay, you're a good girl, aren't you?"

Luyi licked the old Conjurer's hand.

Instructor Chen rapped Eunae's forehead. "You have much to learn."

"Y-yes, sir!" Eunae's head bobbed like a drinking bird.

Gwen was just about to smile when her half-formed grin froze on her face.

Instructor Chen turned toward her.

Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit! Her inner dialogue crapped itself.

"They told me to take special care of you." Chen approached Gwen until he was no more than two inches from her. She could still smell the sulphur on his skin, feel the heat radiating from the Magma Mage like a glowing furnace. She had to circulate a thimble of Lightning mana to resist the pressure he was exerting upon her. "Your link with your creatures is untempered, and that makes them a danger to yourself and your allies."

"I am sorry, sir. I will take greater care with my Familiars in the future."

Chen looked past Gwen at the massive spider-thing behind her.

"Caliban, come here," he commanded.

Surprisingly, Caliban came.

"Caliban. Sit!"

The scorpion-spider thing roosted itself until its belly touched the floor.

Instructor Chen produced two raw, uncut fragments of mana crystals and offered them to Caliban. The creature extended two tendrils and retrieved both pieces, then fed them into its maw, crunching them luxuriously as it enjoyed the burst of raw mana infusing its body.

"Gwen, tell it to return to its lesser form," the instructor told her.

"Caliban, Serpent!"

Caliban focused on its meal instead.

"You also have much to learn." Instructor Chen shook his head. "How did you manage to tame this creature? I find it difficult to believe that it would have come to you naturally. It is too powerful, too wilful and far too volatile."

"It's a long story, sir."

"Next time then." Instructor Chen patted Caliban on the forehead of its faceless carapace and retreated from them. Gwen produced a piece of LDM and fed Ariel sneakily under her shirt, for Ariel had seen the instructor provide for its half-brother and was wondering if it too should take on the role of the troublemaker. After all, it appeared that Caliban was rewarded with the familiar scent for harassing the Mage.

Instructor Chen returned to the bulkhead entrance of the section. "Your task," he announced. "is to temper the connection to your Familiars. Get them to remain in the Material Plane. You will eat with them, sleep with them, go to class with them. They will become a part of you, and you a part of them. They will not be unsummoned until you are OoM!"

There were groans all around, but Gwen regarded the nightmarish bulk of Caliban with alarm.

Eat with Cali? Sleep with Cali? Go to class with Cali?

Chapter twenty-one

Classes and Classes

Thankfully, Instructor Chen meant that they would soon have to bear the burden of living with their Familiars. Of course, the students could choose to refuse, but that would imply taking a significant hit to their academic record.

Once the roller coaster of emotions ground to a halt, Gwen saw the rationality of such an unreasonable request. For the vast majority of Frontier Conjurers, a Familiar was a tool, a thing, a resource. Chen's suggestion was akin to taking one's favourite mallet to class, lunch and bed.

Instead, Chen wanted them to see that their faithful companions were extensions of their bodies. Unfortunately for many young Mages present, when Lady Fortuna had dribbled her lucky olive oil and gave them a Familiar, she hadn’t concurrently bestowed wisdom or experience.

A Familiar that was too intelligent, willful or dominant was less valuable than a dumb one. All Familiars were constructs of mana given animus and will by the Conjurer. They were tirelessly loyal but highly subject to the repressed emotions of the caster. Exhibit A was Luyi, a spirit that was intelligent and fully sapient. Unfortunately, its owner was a nursery flower who couldn't control her emotions, which made Luyi a danger to herself and others.

While Gwen observed the others and considered her lack of merits, the instructor continued.

"To wield your Familiar with absolute trust, all you need is a decade of common experiences. Eat together, sleep together under the stars, bath together in the blood of your enemies."

A few of the braver students laughed.

"But, as we're no longer in the seventies and you're all scions of your precious houses and Clans, we can't throw you into the trenches just yet. The academic board doesn't want to risk your precious lives. Your mummies and daddies would have our skins if you were to have a limb gnawed off by a Ghast. You're the special spark that keeps your Clan's inbred bloodline boiling. Thereby, you'll be given a milk run—to keep your Familiars out in public."

Ouch, Gwen winced at Chen's deprecating insults. She also liked the man's candidness. It wasn't every day one met a man who gave no shits about the young Masters and Mistresses of the city.

"This is what you will need. For the duration of the course, it will be on loan to you." Instructor Chen introduced the students to what he called a Sustenance Bangle, a magical device that, when worn, allowed them to keep Familiars out and about in docile form. The moment a Familiar became aggressive or hostile, the bangle's circuit-break triggered and the Familiar was banished. To pass the course, the students had to keep their Familiars out and about for at least seven days.

"Why seven days?" Lu Fung asked carefully, nursing his abdomen. Gwen was impressed by the man's ability to pack away his ingrown arrogance so quickly. Like Dai, the young man knew when to kneel. Perhaps that was the secret to the Fung Clan's success.

"Because you're all tit-sucking man-children," Instructor Chen informed them, making Lu's jaws clench. "During the Siege of Tianjin in 1991, we Conjurers had to keep fighting for three weeks. If you can't keep a leash on your Familiars for even seven days, you can forget about sending them into the battle line alongside other Mages. What would happen if your precious spirit became berserk or caused friendly fire during an encirclement? Forget about being a Creature Conjurer. Go and work on your Spatial Magic or learn to summon spell-fodder. Be a freight-Conjurer and work on your Teleportation. Either you learn or you'll be wasting the lives of your spirit Familiars."

It took another ten minutes for the rant to conclude.

Raising her hand, Gwen asked if it was necessary for her to undergo the same training, as she didn’t possess a spirit.

"Your control of your Familiars is abysmal." Chen shook his head critically at her. "For you to pass my course, there are two requirements. One, control your damn Familiars. They don't move a muscle without your express consent. Two, get your Familiars to work together; otherwise, you're just wasting your talent. You possess two elements! Do you even understand that? Dean Luo has especially asked me to take care of you, understand?"

"Yes, sir!" Gwen half-bowed, half-curtsied. She would do whatever was needed to gain total control over her Familiars.

"I'll be honest with you." Chen shrugged. "Never seen a Void beast before, don't even know if it's intelligent. Caliban acts like it is, but you never know. Just be careful, alright? Keep a tight leash on the thing even when you have your bangles."

Gwen solemnly promised Ariel and Caliban would act in good faith.

Instructor Chen turned to the rest of the group. "No more complaints? Very well then. Your extra curriculums begin next week. In the meantime, we're going to go through some Master-Familiar bonding routines. Each of you, take a room."

When they'd finally escaped from the Daishan Stadium, it felt as though a day and night had passed. Gwen felt physically and existentially exhausted, though reality informed her that she still had Advanced Spell Shaping in the afternoon.

Feeling in need of a pick-me-up, Gwen called Mayuree to see if she was available for luncheon. Her eager friend informed her she was and met her half an hour later, huffing and puffing, at University Boulevard.

Unexpectedly, they had a third wheel.

"Hi, Kitty." Gwen waved at the dual-elemental Mage in possession of Ice and Air. Unlike Gwen, Kitty Liang had been the true winner of the LCSS full scholarship and a genuine rival for the IIUC placements.

"Gwen." Kitty inclined her chin. Perhaps because of her Affinity with two elements known to produce aloof personalities, Gwen felt Kitty existed on a higher plane. When she spoke, Gwen felt as though she was talking to a doll with a quiet and wispy voice, like the sound of wind whistling through the willows.

The three found a trendy faux-Victorian joint for afternoon tea. Mayuree took a sandwich. Gwen took a plate of sandwiches. Kitty watched the other two eat while her petite fours thawed.

"You need to eat, hon." Gwen regarded the girl. Under her simple skirt, Kitty possessed arms and legs like sticks frail enough to be blown away by a stiff breeze.

"I ate earlier. I just wanted to spend some time with Mia," Kitty replied airily. "You go on ahead."

Gwen quickly ate her plate of sandwiches, then polished off three tiers of the tea set, scones and all.

As a result of Caliban's present fullness, Gwen no longer felt the dizzying yearning for nourishment. But as long as she exercised her Void abilities, her body craved food and energy. Although the pleasure of delicious desserts couldn’t compete with the existential satisfaction of Caliban's Consume, they blunted the edge of her hunger.

Beside them, Kitty watched her eat with an expression between horror and awe. Perhaps to distract herself, she engaged Mayuree in discussing her classes and instructors. Kitty had a room at the apartment, but she seldom slept over.

"There are only six people in my class," Mayuree said happily. "I guess there aren’t that many high-Affinity Diviners even in Fudan."

"Mao help us if everyone starts predicting the future," Kitty said. "I am in the opposite position. Even in Transmutation 2021, there's over a hundred of us."

Gwen's ears perked up. That was a second-year course. Both Kitty and Richard were way ahead of her in their major School of Magic. For so long, she’d been pleased with having access to multiple Schools of Magic, and now she was comparatively behind in all of them.

Gwen listened to the girls’ banter for another half an hour or so, nursing her Earl Grey and resting her mind. When the last dollop of cream was gone, she shouted her mob the luncheon, then left for Advanced Spellshaping.

Advanced Spellshaping took place in the upper campus, not far from the Henglong Building.

There were about a hundred students who attended the theoretically-aligned lecture. Their instructor was a handsome Magister called Michio Lee, a Singaporean expatriate who specialised in advanced Spellcraft algorithms. When Gwen eavesdropped on the girls sitting up front, she heard that Lee was from a family similar to Mayuree's house, the fourth son of a Frontier trade Consortium based in the fabled Fortress City.

The first half of the lecture was mainly introductory fanfare. Lee spoke about the importance of having a metaphysical understanding of Spellcraft to create unique signature spells. He also outlined the immutable triangle of Spellcraft lore: the trifactor between elemental mana, School of Magic sigils, and the physical body as the triumvirate controlling the arcane arts.

“Spells and incantations,” stated the Magister, were formulas that the predecessors of Spellcraft had left for their descendants. Yet, as with bloodlines and primordial fauna, there was great potential in looking backwards for ancient, druidic and even demi-human arcanistry to find forgotten laws of causation and effect that humanity's predecessors had used to shape the elemental forces.

"Often, we grow too obsessed with looking ahead, failing to see that so much of what we thought and sought as new knowledge, are instead forgotten by history, hidden by conflict, stolen and hoarded by Clans, sects and the religions."

Lee's accusation didn’t seem to align with at least half the cohorts’ view of the world. Gwen even saw a few students filing out of the lecture as the instructor grew more radical.

"Think of China's Undead Incursions every winter in the northeast," Lee said sagaciously. "We fear the Undead. We loathe Necromancy, but so what?"

The lecture grew silent.

"Are we not the architects of Necromantic Magic? You and me, humans, are the ones who first raised the dead. In Egypt, the Cult of Anubis reigned supreme under their god-king pharaohs. Narmer, Khufu, Khafre, each was peerless in their Necromantic craft. In our nation of the Central Kingdom, the Great Emperor of Qin, Ying Zheng was the ruler of all under heaven. His tomb remains the greatest mausoleum known to humanity—the burial palace of a Necromantic god who sought to rule forever!"

More students left the lecture.

"The ancient teachers of Magecraft," continued Lee, "promised impossibilities and performed miracles, shackled dragons and tethered demons. These modern masters transmuted life and formalised the rules to create the chimaera that we call Spellcraft. Thanks to human knowledge, we have penetrated the recesses of the Wildlands and hunted the demi-humans in their most secret hiding places. They ascend into the heavens; they have discovered how the mana circulates and the secrets of the astral soul. They have acquired new and almost unlimited powers, mimicked creation, and mocked the invisible worlds of Positive and Negative Energy!"

Murmurs of agreement floated from the upper lecture hall.

"But I digress." Lee laughed, ignoring his students. "Necromancy is forbidden. The point is that spells are not arcane constructs confined in textbooks to be aped. All magic is a result of experimentation and hypothesis. Do not be afraid to test your limits. Break the rules now and then. In this world, you and I are all explorers. Those ancient Mages could find the tipping point of life and death through their curious enquiry of the world around them, so it should be no trouble for you too, to find new and novel ways to wield your magic for the benefit of humankind."

The auditorium offered scattered applause as Magister Lee finished his lecture and retrieved the projection crystal he’d used to show the students historical anecdotes of magical experimentation and discovery.

Gwen felt well-instructed by the two-hour session, so much so that she was still thinking about it when she finally arrived at the apartment, opening the door to find Petra watching the news.

"Hey." Gwen walked over to the couch.

Petra was bundled up in towels, waiting for her hair to dry.

"How was your day?" Petra asked, stretching out her toes.

"Oh, Pats." Gwen made a long face before leaning heavily into the armrest. "Where to begin?"

Wednesday

Gwen underwent Supplementary Conjuration with Magus Kumiko in a class of about twenty students, practising the basics repeatedly to train for efficiency, consistency and proficiency. She then had a follow-up session with Petra, who aided her in consolidating the knowledge she’d picked up throughout the week.

"Well done. I'll be at the lab tonight, so don't wait for me." Petra said.

"Sure you don't want to grab a bite?" Gwen asked. It was almost six pm.

"Got data to collate and reports to write." Petra lifted herself from the bench. "I have an errand for Master as well. I'll be home late."

"I can bring you food," Gwen offered.

"No, no. Go rest. Big day of classes tomorrow as well."

"It's just Gen-Ed."

"Which I know you love. Professor Ma is presiding. Go on; I'll be fine."

Gwen bid her cousin goodnight, then retreated from the lab. She might be a part of Wen's cozy little study group, but Gwen knew she wasn't a part of the team but a test subject. Gwen had no idea what the scholar was doing with two cubes full of Void matter and Druidic Essence each fortnight and chose not to ask. All she could do was have faith that her allies were wise enough not to slaughter the golden goose for the malformed eggs in her oviduct.

Once she was out, her mind shifted toward dinner. Gwen didn't want to eat out by herself. Her Caucasian-ness drew as much unwanted attention as her appetite, which when combined, became a spectacle. There was a seafood buffet on University Boulevard, and the one time she’d eaten there, she’d inadvertently recreated Homer Simpson's infamous display in the "The Frying Dutchman".

She could eat at home, but there was nothing but instant ramen there. Neither of the girls was remotely good at housework, and as such, the fridge had nothing but a few pieces of ageing fruit, water, some juice and a slab of mouldy bread, which she should throw away before it became her third Familiar.

Gwen gnawed her lips and considered her options, finally raising her Message band and punching in a glyph.

"Hey Mia, it's me, Gwen. Yeah, listen, er… Have you had dinner yet?—No, no, I’m just downstairs—Can I? That's wonderful—Okay, I'll be up in twenty!"

Mia had sounded unsure, but it isn’t as though she was cooking. There might be a stone-faced Kitty beside them, but that was a price she was willing to pay.

Gwen's grin froze. The pixie girl wasn't home, but Marong and Mayuree were. The man didn't technically even live in the apartment, so why was he omnipresent whenever she came around?

"Magister Lee's an interesting guy." Marong drew a serpent in the air with this smoke and watched it swim through space in front of his eyes. Earlier, Gwen had told Mayuree about her day, but Marong hadn’t recused himself from their girls’ night in.

Above the dinner table, Gwen watched the serpent arch its back until it looked like a rainbow stretched across two smokey landscapes. Silently, she sipped her cranberry juice. Was Marong trying to hint at something, or was his display merely a coincidence? The Rainbow Serpent incident during the Black Sun event was common knowledge by now, but only her sister and brother-in-craft knew of her involvement.

Dinner itself had been a pleasure, consisting of meat and three veg and heirloom mushrooms. Marong had eaten a small portion of his steak, then contemplatively watched Gwen deliver piece after piece of bloody flesh to her lips. When Gwen had begun to glance over at his plate, the Smoke Mage had told the maid to make her another portion.

Later, Gwen furthermore polished off Mayuree's serving.

"Michio Lee is famous for being an oddball, but he means well," Marong told her in response to Gwen's curious enquiry about dredging up the "hidden knowledge" of the Clans and sects for the betterment of the greater Spellcraft community. "He's also from Singapore, so he's more Mageocracy than CCP, you get me?"

"What are the sects hiding, though? Signature spells? Never-before-seen arcana? Forbidden magic?" Gwen asked.

Marong watched her face. Gwen felt a little heat touch her cheeks. He followed her gaze until it landed on Lei, their servant, in the middle of preparing dessert.

"Any Clan or sect worth its weight has secrets." Marong scratched his brows. "Mia and I are members of one of those Clans your instructor despises so much. I can inform you that we have secrets, big ones, but nothing to the degree of unique Schools of Magic."

"Does such a thing exist?” Gwen felt her dislike of Marong replaced by a desire to know more.

"Of course, they exist." Marong chuckled cooly. "Let me give you an example. Years ago, I had a senior in Tsinghua who could cast a form of body enhancement that allowed him to leap several metres in a bound, walk on walls, and balance on tree branches as thin as your fingers. Think about what you would need to achieve the same thing. Spider Climb, Jump, Adhere and Enhanced Dexterity, to name a few, and that's assuming you could parkour. You know what parkour is?"

Gwen nodded.

"My senior was a Jianshi or Wushi, depending on your dialect. He refused to participate in the IIUC, but if he had, Tsinghua might not have lost."

A Wushi? Like in Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon? Gwen felt a strange thrill trying to imagine a Mage scaling walls while swinging a sword, finding the vision as ridiculous as it was enticing. After all, when a monster like Elizabeth Sobel could drain the life out of a city with ten million souls, what use were romantic notions of close combat? It was the difference between a special forces unit and a WMD. Swordsmen had their uses as assassins perhaps, but wouldn't the other side also have an equal and oppositional force to defend their VIPs? Mao certainly hadn’t taken China from the dynastic Clans by swinging his sword arm.

"Lee also went on about Necromancy," Gwen continued. "Do you know anything—"

"That's a topic best left well alone outside of academia," Marong said with a wave of his hand. "Pretty much everything north-west of Xian is gone to the dead. And yes, humans did it."

"But Lee said—"

"His opinion is hardly original. Don't you think people have thought of that already? That only the Undead could fight the Undead? That we should be developing Necromancy ourselves?"

"Why can't China turn back the tide with its current forces? The news said we're holding steady and slowly progressing westward."

Marong chuckled. Gwen was well aware she’d been watching too many propaganda vid-casts, but to laugh at her was just rude.

"Because they're the Undead," he said, taking a toke on his cigarette and allowing the smoke to add to the scenery, which now resembled the Great Wall. "This is not a war the PLA can win without opening itself to bigger problems down the road from the American and the British Mageocracy. Can the Chinese win? Probably. What's left after 'we' win? Not much. If they take Manchuria and North Korea, they'll lose their most precious advantage—the sheer volume of Mages they possess."

"There aren’t enough Mages in China, of all places?"

"Think about it—China has got a few million NoM soldiers and about six thousand Mages up at the Northern Front. The Public Information Bureau says around twelve million Undead or so, not including their magic casters. Now, where do you think the twelve million bodies came from?"

"Graves?" Gwen said.

Marong shook his head and gave Gwen a condescending look with his darkly lined eyes.

"From us." He chortled. "There weren’t even that many people in all of China when the Qin mausolea dug into the earth. The number of Undead buried to serve the old emperor would number no more than ten thousand! The records say the Undead court was few as well. Lichs? Draugs? Spectres? Wraiths? Death Knights? A hundred all together. Now they number in the tens of thousands." He snorted sardonically. "It's us. Don't you see? The more living there are, the more become fodder for the Undead. The only way to stop the Undead…" He left the rest to her imagination.

Above the Mage, the smoky Great Wall collapsed into nothing.

"It's best to think of it the Undead incursion as a natural disaster, like Mermen," the Smoke Mage said. "To be honest, it's best not to dwell on it. The threat is contained; that’s all the PLA is willing to do."

Gwen wanted to ask more about it, but Marong seemed disinclined to discuss the matter further. "Do we have to participate in the defence of the Northern Front?" she asked.

"Goddess, I hope not." Mayuree made a face. "Fighting the Undead makes for a good career boost for the PLA and the CCP track if you're a free Mage. However, there's not much merit in dying for the government or for the Clans and sects. As for participation, Tower Mages are exempt from conscription, if that's what you mean."

"There's conscription?" Gwen's tone grew grave.

"For the NoMs, of course," Marong's voice droned on. "Gaps need filling, no? Humanity is trying to stop a flood, after all. There are a lot of bodies lying around, which is both the solution and the problem." He motioned to the distant horizon, where they could see NoM-inhabited blocks rising toward the heavens like swords stabbing into the sky.

Gwen thought of the supersized apartment blocks with their underground facilities, mini-hive cities, all of them, where the NoMs made a living. Conscription? She should've known.

“Its by lottery,” Marong added. “So, it's not all that bad, I think?”

Gwen shivered. Her thighs prickled, spontaneously becoming plucked gooseflesh. Jesus, she thought, Shirley Jackson would have a field day.

Thursday

Thursday held the one class she and Mayuree attended together—Transmutation Utility.

There were several such courses for the first-world Mages—Abjuration Utility, Transmutation Utility, Divination Utility and more. There were essential spells from each School of Magic that a Mage's party should never be without and which could be taught by rote learning. "Utility" spells were simplified versions of the spells available from each school, adapted for general use at the cost of potency and efficiency.

Transmutation Utility covered most of the translocation spells necessary for general Adventuring, Combat, and Dungeoneering. Gwen’s lesson involved the gradual mastery of Jump, Feather Fall, Levitation, Enhance Ability, Lock and Knock, Expeditious Retreat, Spider Climb, Dark Vision and Aqua Lung.

Almost all the students participating in the course were non-Transmutation students, but Gwen’s reason for taking the class was Levitation, a lesser form of Flight, arguably the most helpful spell for a junior Mage. At tier three, however, mastery would likely use up the rest of the semester, which was fourteen weeks.

"Without mobility, you’re nothing but stationary turrets ripe for destruction," the instructor, a Magus named Canto Luo, a nephew of the dean, told his students earnestly. "You’ll be a liability. Do not venture into a dungeon without ensuring that your party possesses every possible means of mobility. Remember, dead Mages don't contribute to damage."

Mayuree had no talent in Transmutation, but her natural intelligence and good breeding ensured that she could follow the instructor's incantations without delay or confusion. Gwen, meanwhile, could feel her long-neglected Transmutation Sigil pulse with eager luminosity as she alternated between Lock and Knock, abusing her abnormally large mana pool.

"Good work, Gwen." Magus Luo nodded approvingly at her progress.

The students split into a dozen stations. The class spent their training time moving from station to station, attempting various spells while under the watchful eye of Instructor Luo.

After just one afternoon, Gwen completed her tier one staples. When she arrived at the apartment building, she felt overcome with mischief and carefully and meticulously made use of Expeditious Retreat and Enhance Strength. She scaled twenty flights of fire stairs, then burst through the fire door into her apartment after casting a Knock, marvelling at the ease of her transit.

Then, in the middle of her living room, her Transmutation wore off.

"Ouch." She felt the first cramp coming on. "Ow, ow, ow!" She collapsed onto the couch, her face grew clammy as her body took stock of the muscular fatigue, paying back her ignorance with compounded interest. Tears of regret gushed from her eyes as she sobbed helplessly into the fabric of the couch, transformed into a rigid corpse.

Play stupid games, Gwen told herself between sobs, win stupid prizes.

Chapter twenty-two

Mo Money, No Problems

Petra massaged Gwen's shuddering legs as her cousin squirmed and groaned.

"I am not a spell bank, you know. Unless we're Adventuring, I don't stock up on those spells," Petra chided Gwen, who moaned as her masseuse's fingers worked over the inflamed flesh. "Transmutation Utility doesn't teach you the physiological and morphic aspects of these spells, so be careful with the revised Incantations. We can always get you a Transmutation tutor in the future if you're keen on getting up close and personal."

"It was an idiotic fancy." Gwen gritted her teeth as Petra worked over a knot.

"Turn around," Petra commanded. Gwen flopped over like a slab of grilling fish flipped by a chef. Her cousin laughed as she began work on her hamstrings, working her way down to the quads.

"Is the Druidic Essence helping?" Petra asked. She had advised that Gwen focus on circulating her emerald essence through her body to take advantage of its regenerative properties.

"Ow!" Gwen took in a breath of cold air. "I-I can f-feel the soreness fading away, but you're doing God's work, Pats."

Earlier, she was little more than a mass of convulsing flesh caught between the sofa and the coffee table. It wasn't until Petra prodded her in the buttocks that she’d begun to scream blue murder.

"Three more days to go and you get your break," Petra said. "Feel like doing anything this Sunday?"

"I think I am going to r-r-rest," Gwen whined as Petra pressed an elbow over her gluteus. "Delicately, Pats. You're breaking the girl.”

There was only the sound of Petra cracking her knuckles.

Gwen felt a sudden tingle as her Divination senses pinged. "Er, Pats?"

Above her, Petra snickered.

Monday

Gwen had practice, followed by Management coursework, followed by practice. It was only thanks to her abnormally large mana pool and her Druidic Essence that she was able to pile together two sessions bisected by her Gen-Ed, which served to restore her mana.

From 0900 to 1200, she took to the practice field and focused on repeating her Conjuration incantations. First, she warmed up on cantrips, then moved her way up to Dimension Door, and finally to complex manifestations.

For her advancement toward the fifth tier, Magister Wen prepared a new incantation for Gwen, contributed by Magus Kumiko. Based upon the altered invocations used by Master Kilroy for Dark Tentacle and Faithful Hound, Wen had reverse-engineered three tiers of Summon Elementals—Minor, Lesser, and the namesake, fifth-tier Summon.

At first, Gwen was disparaged that she was forced to acclimate her method to the mundane variety. When she mentioned this to Magister Wen, the helpful Magister showed Gwen that higher spells used the same formulas, only with more support structure.

As well, Wen informed the Void Conjurer that there was no reason why her sigils couldn't process the usual formulas in Kilroy's signature style, at least until tier six, beyond which she would need to tap into supplementary mandala arrays developed especially for her altered school.

The rest was a matter of familiarity, accuracy, stability and speed. Of all these qualities, speed was paramount in combat.

The time it took to manifest magical phenomena varied from Mage to Mage. Gwen's staple escape spell, Dimension Door, was tailored especially for Magister Kilroy's speed and took just over a second at her present stage of expertise. Faithful Hound, a defensive spell with many conditional modifiers, took almost two minutes. Comparatively, Dark Tentacles took about four to five seconds, while sustained barrage spells such as Warding Bolt and Call Lighting each took two to three seconds.

Gwen's display was well above an average arcanist but still far below an expert. The difference between a novice and an expert, Magister Birch clarified, was their theory work.

For example, according to Magister Birch, the difference between "Summoning spells" and "Conjuration spells" wasn’t their similar function, but Spellcraft history.

Conjuration originated from the Latin term conjuratio, a phrase popularised during the shift between the Dark Ages of Middle Europe to the Golden Age of the Florentine Renaissance. For Europe, it had been an epoch with many concurrences: the splitting of the papal states into the warring factions of the Romagna; the birth of ocean-faring sorcery, which had begun the age of colonisation; the rediscovery of Roman and Greek Faith Magic; the renewed interest in the notion of Republic, all of which made for haphazard progress.

During its apex, Conjurers such as Johann Georg Faust, a German arcanist, had discovered how to bind elemental forces onto human anima, allowing humanity to control and communicate with creatures they’d once worshipped as divine.

Meanwhile, Summoners, or spells that summoned creatures or things, had been founded under far less academic circumstances. Archives as ancient as Egyptian hieroglyphs told of summoning ancestral spirits, divine avatars, elemental gods, and so on. The phrase itself was a corruption of the Latin evocatio, appropriated by the School of Evocation to mean the summoning of raw elemental power. For Conjuration, a summon thus represented the translocation of semi-sentient and mindless creatures compelled, but not controlled, by the Summoner.

Unlike early Conjurers, Summoners infamously called forth all kinds of mayhem and chaos by accident. From succubi-beings that had toppled nations to accidentally calling out Elder Elementals from the Plane of Fire to the spread of Vampirism—most of humanity's mishaps had ambitious Summoners at their centre.

Birch's was a lesson well-taught, for his warning closely matched her observations of Summon Elemental, her new spell. When activated, a flood of leaping, howling, hooting creatures launched toward her enemies, appearing and disappearing as her mana ran dry.

What interested Gwen was also the selection of creatures. The minor creatures for Minor Elemental Swarm was a swarm of sparks that flew in her desired direction. The more mana she channelled, the greater the duration and volume of sparks that manifested. If she was willing to OoM, she could sustain the spell for a whole five minutes, thanks to her abnormally large mana pool.

Gwen then attempted the tier-four lesser variant but could only sustain the spell for a minute. Interestingly, on this occasion, the sparks resembled insects or at least a host of creatures that moved like a swarm.

As for the tier-five variety, she’d had no success, only raging headaches from mana feedback.

Nonetheless, it was good practice for her progress toward the next tier of expertise. Every moment of pain, nausea and suffering was all a part of conditioning her mind for the exponential complexity of interwoven glyphs.

For the growth of her Void Magic, Magister Wen had explicitly warned Gwen to leave her curiosity alone until they could gather sufficient data, lest she waste herself during a session of enthused practice.

When she exited, sweat-soaked and pallid from the privacy of her practice room, she was met by several of her peers from the Conjuration class.

"That's Gwen Song," she heard one of the students whisper under his breath.

Gwen looked up toward the group waiting along the exterior corridor and prepared herself to greet them. However, she instead received disparaged glowers ranging from interest to loathsome stares. When she came close enough to inspect her antagonists, she saw their colour-matched practice equipment and enchanted uniforms, as well as their similar facial features. Either these were a troop of six brothers and sisters or these young Mages belonged to the Clan sects infamous to China's magical community.

Gwen pulled her gym towel tightly around her bare shoulders, covering her collarbones.

"Clanners", as Petra called them, saw all outsiders as the enemy, and they jealously guarded their secrets while hypocritically coveting the skills and talents of Mages they saw as inferior. These folk, Gwen reminded herself, were the very ones that Michio Lee wanted to crack open like an egg to scoop out their secrets.

As the group approached, Gwen lowered her head and kept her gaze down, mindful of the slight tingling of her Divination Sigils.

The group passed.

Someone snickered.

Somebody else whistled.

Unsurprisingly, someone cracked a lascivious joke.

Gwen swallowed the humiliation. Lucky for her, several of her subjects had mid-term exhibition matches, and some of these folk were in her classes.

As such, her revenge was best served cold.

"Miss Song, it's good to see you," said James Ma, Professor and one of the overseers of her scholarship interview, as she entered the auditorium. "Is Mr Huang not with you?"

"He's Adventuring until next week, sir," Gwen replied meekly, not wishing to appear to possess the come-offish air of the Mages who thought themselves superior to the NoM scholar.

The professor seemed more relieved than disappointed at Richard's leave of absence. "I suppose we all have our priorities. Very well, take a seat."

Gwen sat.

Mayuree joined her a few minutes later and the two cuddled up near the front. Unlike herself, the Diviner held no interest in Gen-Ed and needed only to pass the course. Comparatively, Gwen scribbled like a madwoman as Professor Ma dived into the history of magical governance.

"Following the Leviathan Accord by Meister Thomas Hobbes, non-magical humans were given rights of their own, becoming an integral part of human society," the professor spoke with a clear, articulate voice. "To trace the history of Hobbes' writing, one needs to acknowledge the French Meister and father of modern political philosophy, René Descartes, himself informed by classical predecessors such as Plato and Aristotle, who saw the merit in providing Non-Mages with a fighting chance at making themselves virtuous in a human society."

Gwen tried to imagine Plato, who also happened to be a fabled wrestler, as a Mage.

"Note that during antiquity, Mages were divine heroes, sons and daughters of the pantheon of gods, so we mustn't anachronistically judge their limited understanding of egalitarianism…”

Ma was an excellent lecturer. His gold-rimmed glasses glinted as he spoke, and the cadence and intonation of his speech made the somewhat dry lecture far more interesting than its subject matter.

Unfortunately, very few of her peers shared her sentiment toward social history. The class was meant to be three hundred strong and there were about a hundred of them in the lecture, and half of them were either listening with dazed expressions or quietly engaged themselves with private affairs in the back row.

As an NoM, Professor Ma couldn't challenge the students bodily, meaning he had to do his best with passion and rhetoric, hoping that at least a few of the Mages graduated with enough knowledge to have some sympathy for their NoM brothers and sisters.

The first lecture was on rights, or more precisely, on the Universal Guarantee of Equal Rights to all Human Beings. Nonetheless, the passionate lecturer may as well have been playing guzheng to the proverbial oxen.

"It was the British Oxford Think-tank, headed then by the Meister John Locke, who first roused the idea of universal human rights for all. He stated that human rights should be an existential creed, a moral principle, enshrined and protected by all.

"Note that Human Rights, in sharp distinction to the two-tier system of Mage and Non-Mage laws practised around the world pre-seventeenth century, refer to the rights to which a person is inherently entitled. This right is inalienable regardless of nation, location, language, religion, ethnic origin or any other status. This 'right' is an egalitarian, universal constant, the very thing which separates us from the demi-humans. It is a rejection of the proposals made by Meister Darwin."

Mayuree snuggled against Gwen's arm, her eyes bleary with sleep. Gwen eagerly jotted down the keynotes to Professor Ma's informative representation of what she internally termed the NoM-Mage Apartheid.

“…Some of you will one day be given a demesne to govern on the Frontier. As steward representative of your Tower or provincial governorship, you will hold the power of life or death over the citizens under your care. You may be the protector of a township, the arbitrator of a district, the Paladin of a Tower, or even the Tower Master him or herself, presiding over millions of lives.

"It is then, and only then, that will you realise that all humans, NoM, Mage or otherwise, bear the burden of upholding the rights of their fellow citizens. Yes, holding so many lives in your hands may prove a stressful affair, but it is necessary for the survival of mankind. Think! Why else does humanity persist today as the most prosperous terrestrial race on Earth? The Mermen far outnumber us. The Elven race possesses far greater knowledge of Spellcraft. The Dwarves are more industrious and wiser. And the Dragonkin are to us what gods are to insects. But why is it that humanity, whose practice of Spellcraft only began in earnest during the Spellcraft Revolution at the turn of the nineteenth century, has such dominion over the continents? Why is it that we, who are weaker by all accounts, continue to survive and prosper, despite the fall of Frontier and city, year after year?"

As the lecturer's voice rose, the audience grew more attentive.

"It is because of good governance!" Ma said.

The interest in the lecture waned instantly.

“…The rule of law. The respect for NoMs and Mages. The working together of all of humanity. That is how we’ve survived! We’ve produced more Mages in the last fifty years than all humanity's histories put together since the time of the Magi Moses and the coming of the Prophet Jesus Christ! Right now, more Mages are serving in the frontlines, the cities, studying to become Magus and Magisters like yourselves, than at any other time in the history of the human race!

"Good governance," the professor reiterated, "is the greatest power of all and the most difficult thing to master in the world."

Gwen completed her notes with a flourish. Ma's lecture was fantastic! Such wisdom, such sagacity, such foresight. She felt giddy with ambition, her skin crawling with goosebumps.

She could do it—she could bring forth a democratic utopia if she inherited a demesne! At the very least, she could make her subjects no longer suffer the yolk of unemployment and existential nihilism. She would endow her people with purpose and productivity. She would make the Mages see sense in raising the NoMs toward meaningful participation in society!

But that was for a very distant future. At the moment, she was short on rent.

"Finally—there will be an excursion to District 108 and District 35 in Week Six." Professor Ma pulled out an image of a sprawling hive city shot from the air. Gwen recognised it as a "forest" apartment block for NoMs on the Third Orbital Ring. "If you wish to participate, sign a security clearance form 10-B outside the drop box beside my office."

After the professor had concluded the lecture and finished issuing homework reading and reports, Gwen shook herself from the revelry of new knowledge and turned to wake Mayuree. The girl slept sweetly beside her, curled up like a kitten, a sliver of drool leaking from one corner of her lips and forming a silvery thread across Gwen's dark yoga pants.

Gwen watched the Diviner's eyes flutter slightly.

"Is it time for lunch?" Mayuree asked groggily.

"You bet it is." Gwen chuckled, helping her companion into an upright position. "Let's go get some fish and chips. I got another three hours of Evocation practice after."

Friday.

The Tower technician who came to install her LRM projector was a young man who grew increasingly sweaty in the presence of the "Flower of Fudan" and her cousin.

Unlike his interest in herself and Petra, Gwen found herself drawn to the technician's work, particularly the magical tools he used to melt the concrete, embed the mana cables, then re-seal the lot.

When the LR Message projector was completed, Gwen thanked the man and gave him a few LDMs as a tip, which he politely refused. "It's an honour," he explained, still starstruck from the looks of his breathlessness. "The order came from the Pudong Tower itself."

He then showed her how to power up the device and left his card in case she needed his services. Gwen sent the man away with a smile, then stood for a minute to admire the international communication device. Now she could talk to Yue and Elvia, not to mention Gunther and Alesia. With a bit of patience, she could even commune with Opa and set Richard up with his parents.

But first, she had her final class of the week—Economics.

As before, the Gen-Ed for Economics took place on the upper campus. Gwen quietly pushed through the door and snuck into the lecture hall. Happily, the professor ignored her.

Mayuree waved, and Gwen walked up the aisles until she reached her companion.

"Hey there, Kitty." Gwen waved to the girl beside them.

Kitty gave a half-nod, then turned back to her note-taking.

The lecture was on the history of currency.

"The first instance of mana crystals used as currency was undertaken unknowingly by the Church Templars from the twelfth-century Crusaders, escorting members of the nobility on their pilgrimage to Jerusalem. Though the four major crusades against the then indomitable Elemental Sultanates between the twelfth and fourteenth centuries remained a failure, they nonetheless opened up the Mediterranean to commerce and travel, consolidated papal leadership, galvanised medieval romance, philosophy, and of course, Economics."

The topic was right up her alley and she scratched her notes with an expert hand. Gwen was getting used to her data slate, which was just like a Kindle Paperwhite, only powered by arcane mystery.

Below, the lecturer continued. "As it was near impossible to transport precious metals and large volumes of coinage, high-density mana crystals, then the currency of Wizards, Warlocks and Sorcerers, became popular as a trading currency. Across the aeons, mercantile empires rose and fell with the onset of disasters, both natural and supernatural. Too much hoarding of crystals attracted magical beasts sensitive to such things, such as Dragons, while too little led to ambition and conflict. It was only after the Undead incursion of World War I that the newly-formed League of Nations established the World Banking Regulations Body, where the G9, a collection of western nations, joined by the U.S. from the New World, brought legislative recognition and fiscal management to crystal trading.

"As is common knowledge, mana crystals, as a resource essential to Spellcraft and Magi-tech, are generated from astral rifts. HDMs are longitudinally perpetual but finite in volume due to the difficulty of harvesting them. As the backbone of a resource-backed economy, it is a perfect commodity currency. At any period, there is a finite volume of crystal-producing regions, and this reserve is set against market trends and the needs of our tier-one economies. Such predictability then affords the LDM and the HDMs their role as the currency choice of not only humanity but demi-humans as well."

Eureka! Gwen heard her old, economics major self cry out. Crystals are friggin petrodollars. No wonder the fiscally infantile economy of this world never collapsed. Before the Americans had created a stranglehold on petroleum in her world, the world economy pre-World War II had been rife with instability, exploitation, economic bubbles and fiscally irresponsible governments printing currency like toilet paper. Why had the U.S. quantitatively eased their economy almost indefinitely after the GFC? Why had the U.S. been able to outspend the G19 on military single-handedly? It was because it had had an infinite capacity for inflation without upset—for the only way to drastically devaluate the U.S. dollar was to unpin its stranglehold over crude oil. As long as other economies used petroleum as their lifeblood, the petrodollar was immortal! In her old world, the banking industry had drunk the milk of carbon paradise, and to exit its embrace had meant death.

Comparatively, Terra's economy functioned on the stuff of legends—the crude of the gods. Clean, self-perpetuating, virtually infinite crystals growing from the Earth where the foundation between the Prime Material and the astral grew thin. It was as though the Reserve Bank was the Earth itself—a self-capitalised reserve bank with infinite capacity and zero interest rates. The financial systems of this world could operate like an inebriated motor head and they still wouldn't veer into bankruptcy. The only way for a nation to lose everything was to lose its Mages and NoM labourers, thereby its capacity to extract crystals.

No wonder no one saw the need to keep the NoMs employed and productive. No wonder almost all gainful employment involved venturing into the Wildlands and fending off the encroachment of the wilderness, the magical beasts and the demi-humans. No wonder the socialism in that world treated the NoMs like bodies bred to fill gaps. No wonder the capitalists had little regard for creating hegemonic conglomerates. No wonder slums like Blackheath were a dime a dozen in Sydney.

In its particular way, this world had already reached a self-perpetuating equilibrium—its macro and microeconomics were balanced by a resource that was infinite and self-regulated.

Gwen felt a sudden sadness overcome her weary soul. No wonder only the NoMs engaged in disorganised finance. No wonder the Frontier was rural and exploited. As a Mage, all she had to do was open up new vistas on the Frontier and all the currency that grew within her demesne was hers alone.

For the lack of a better phrase, money in this world could be grown from the ground and collected from thin air!

Chapter twenty-three

Routine

Gwen felt intoxicated when she stumbled out of the lecture, followed closely by Mayuree.

Her MBA was less valuable than Yue's ability to provide firepower.

She stumbled back to the apartment like a ghost and buried herself into the soft linen folds of her bed. EVEE! EVEE! EVEE! she chanted like a mantra. This whole time she'd imagined herself taking to economics like a duck to water, but now she felt like a cat that had accidentally slid into a cold bath. She wanted to hug something so badly, but she wouldn't receive Evee's glyph until her companion's communication device had been authorised. She could try to contact Alesia or Yue, although three pm might be a little too early considering the timezone.

"Gwen, are you okay?" Mayuree peeped up on the other side of the bed, eyeing her companion worriedly.

"Gwen? Eeek!"

Gwen arrested the unsuspecting Mayuree and hugged her fiercely, feeling the softness of the girl under her as she rested her chin on Mayuree's soft head of dark brown hair. The girl grew beetroot, turning rigid as Gwen held her, unmoving, for five whole seconds.

"Okay," Gwen breathed out, releasing Mayuree from her enveloping arms. "Thanks, Mia. I needed that."

Mayuree's chest rose and fell. Her mouth moved several times to make a sound, but Gwen was a Displacer Beast with a captured prey.

Gwen sat upright on her bed. "Sorry," she said.

"What was that about?"

“Nothing dire. When I was in Sydney, a friend, Elvia, was close to me. She was a dear little thing, a tiny blonde angel. She's a Healer, but she's gone off to England to study abroad." Gwen sighed and met Mayuree's amber eyes. "You reminded me a little of Elvia. I didn't hurt you, did I?"

"No, no." Mayuree's complexion resembled a cooked lobster. "I’m still in one piece."

"Great. I’m glad to hear it." Gwen chuckled, then felt the call of the Void. "Are you hungry? I’m famished."

"Coming up, then? Ah-lei can make us something. Anything you like."

"If it's not too much trouble."

"Ha! Of course not," Mayuree was adamant.

Well, not for you, Gwen thought sardonically. Still, it wasn't as though Ah-lei would be freed from the labour of making lunch for her young mistress if she didn't attend.

Gwen bounced off her bed, simultaneously sending Mayuree to flounder.

She regretted the puerile act, but she was in a childish mood. It was just one of those days. Now and then, whenever she missed her Evee, her insides felt like the interior of an ants' nest.

“Is western food okay?”

“Sure,” Mayuree grinned at her friend. “Whatever you want.”

Beep-KeeeEEE—HUUUUUU—PSSSSSST—Ka-ka-ka—Ssss—HSSSSS!

The LRC device made an infernal noise that resembled two cats mating violently. Having survived the days of dial-up, Gwen found the sound more endearing than grating; she knew that the din of kitty-love was, in fact, Divination glyphs in search of a target.

Click. A projection appeared of a woman in a red cotton nightie.

"Jesus Christ, who the fuck is this? Do you know what time it is?" A bleary-eyed Alesia scowled at the projected image.

"Alesia?"

The vision of offended femininity turned her face towards the prism. "Gwen?" Alesia's brows took on a life of their own.

"Hi!" Gwen made a mental note that this particular glyph was Alesia's home address.

"Oh wow! You got it installed? Good work, tiger."

"How's it going, sister?"

"Recovering, chugging along. How about you? Bloody hell, you look right buggered."

"Erg, how bad is it?" Gwen placed a finger under her eye to prod her eyebags. "I guess I've had a big week."

"You look like something a drunk dingo dragged into the camp, ha-ha!" Alesia laughed at her own Outback humour.

Gwen joined in, genuinely appreciating it. "Well, you're looking rather nice, nightie and all. Waiting for somebody to slip into bed?"

"Sure, in my dreams. How about you, huh? Shaking your tail feathers at all the young fellows up there in Shanghai?"

"Oh, I was flat on my back all week, thanks to a week of classes. Christ, it feels like tests have taken over my life. I assure you, sister, I have had no time for the lads."

"I find that had to believe," Alesia said. "Surely there are some hot hunks in Fudan. It's a tier-one city. There's sure to be a yummy someone to catch your eye, yes? You're young. Live a little, don't sleep on a cold bunk."

Gwen was beside herself. Trust Alesia to act the old wand! Wasn't she the thirty-something virgin? A female Wizard? The gall of this woman to mock her young and innocent heart. Speaking of which, Gwen was reminded of how her sister-in-craft and Gunther were getting along. "Enough about my amorous adventures, how about you, sis? Are you and Gunther now making the beast with two backs?"

"Wow. Christ, Gwen." Alesia reprimanded her churlishly, her face glowing. "How do you come up with this stuff?"

"Um, are you saying you haven't progressed at all? Fine, I give consent. There. What are you waiting for?"

"He's busy, and that's not an excuse either, just the reality," Alesia's voice took on a more serious note. "But we're together now, at least."

"Oh, ho ho!" Gwen made her eyebrows wiggle expressively.

"No! Get your mind out of the gutter," Alesia blasted back in good humour. "He's worried about my health. You know, he still cooks for me sometimes."

Gwen felt the sting of being single. Gunther's cooking was divine. "He's running the reconstruction of an entire city and he's got the time to cook for you? Girl, you have to jump that bone before some other hussy gets him."

"Gwen!" Alesia rocked backed and forth. "You've become such a naughty girl. How many boyfriends have you had?"

"I've been living cleaner than a nun in a cloister," Gwen replied.

The two women traded a few more jabs before moving on to the matter of Gwen's subject selections, of which Alesia approved.

"I can be your Transmutation tutor in the future," Alesia announced confidently. "Anyway, since we missed your birthday, Gunther and I have sent you a care package. It'll take a while to clear customs, though, especially in China. I hope it gets there in one piece."

"I'll look out for it, thanks, sis."

"Anytime, sis." Alesia's smile was so warm and inviting Gwen felt her heart flutter. "Anyway, you know these LRC calls cost an HDM per minute, right?"

"What?"

"Hahaha!" Alesia snorted. "I hope you're not low on funds."

"I'll get a job," Gwen said miserably. So much for all-nighter calls with Elvia or Yue.

"Okay, I'll let Yue know it's set up. And get someone to chase up Elvia. It's a two-way charge, by the way; bloody Diviner communication companies. Probably run by vampires. See you later, tiger."

"See ya." Gwen watched as the device died. She looked at the clock. Fifteen HDMs.

Yes, it was time to look into part-time jobs.

Saturday

Gwen emerged from Magisters Wen's session feeling like a cat stuck in a tumble dryer. How absurdly long was her week? She hadn't felt that kind of elongated distortion of time since she’d been training under the schedule set by her Master.

Yet with half a day to herself, she had no idea what to do. Petra was busy. Mayuree had gone off to see her family. Richard worked like a madman. Neither Mina nor Tao was available. She couldn't just call babulya out of the blue and ask her impossibly busy grandmother to keep her company.

Her father was out of the city. Her uncle was probably saving the world on a secret mission.

Percy? Gwen baulked at the thought.

It was strange how complicated life seemed when one had a family. In old Sydney, she had spent whole weekends cooped up with two cats, a good book on her Kindle, and a bottle of Mexico's best-distilled agaves by the sideboard. Paperwhite in hand, she had lounged languishingly on the porch overlooking the ocean, a Tequila Sunrise sweating against the Australian sun, a kitty or two nuzzling her ankle. Later, when her body had grown stiff, she did a little yoga and meditated to the sound of the ocean.

She thought of all this, then returned to the training hall.

And on the seventh day, Gwen rested. As Petra and Richard were both out, she called for takeout.

After receiving looks of pity from the NoM who delivered a family-sized lunch, she sat down at the kitchen table and ate by herself. She then cleaned up, switched on the LRM device, then sent a Message for Yue to call her when she was back in town.

Then she went back to sleep.

At five pm, she left the apartment and jogged around the neighbourhood, then cooled off in the garden. Her muscles, so disastrously worn out by her experiment with Transmutation, now rallied around her Druidic Essence.

As she materialised a towel and wiped her face down, she saw a blue-green utility vehicle with the label "Greenland Construction Group" imprinted on the side panel. A familiar figure stumbled out of the passenger side, spoke at length with the driver, then stumbled toward the entrance.

"Richard! Jesus, are you alright?" Gwen rushed over to her cousin.

Richard looked as though he'd lost five kilograms overnight. His face was sallow and his skin had a sickly tinge. He peered up at Gwen with eyes that were on the verge of exhaustion.

The kind-faced old guy in the van gave him a look of empathic misunderstanding and a thumbs up before driving off and honking the horn twice.

"Yo. I’m back."

"Good God, Richard. what happened?" Gwen caught her cousin.

"Just a little incident, nothing too serious," Richard said. "I just received a few Cure Moderates, so ol' blood bag is right as rain. Don't you worry."

"Dick!" Gwen wrapped his arms around her neck to support her friend. "This is not a laughing matter. Where did you go? Who was that in the car with you?"

"The foreman. He's got another two blokes in back, but I think they should pull through."

"Jesus, tell me what happened."

They entered the lift.

"Nothing catastrophic, if you must know," Richard said tiredly. "Damned River Mermen didn't uphold their part of the ceasefire. They collapsed an upper section of the dam where we were working and flooded the entire lower-valley past the Yellow River up South-East Nantong."

Gwen could almost imagine the raging torrent of water bearing down on her cousin, bringing with it construction concrete, boulders, rebar and other debris.

"Are you wounded? Do you need more healing? I could ask Babulya or Mina to come."

"No, it's fine." Richard assured her. ”Boss shouted me two potions already. I’m just a little dizzy is all. The healing took a lot out of me."

Gwen wasn't a Healer, but she could tell Richard had sustained a potentially fatal wound.

"A few cracked ribs, contusions, internal bleeding, that sort of thing. But everyone lived."

"Struth, Dick." Gwen deposited him on the soft sofa. "How are you now?"

"I feel like shit."

"What do you need? I'll get it for you, anything."

"Got something to eat?"

"I'll call take out."

"I need meat. Something with iron in it."

"You got it."

As they waited for takeout, Gwen demanded Richard relate every detail.

In pursuit of Contribution Credits, Richard had answered a quest from his foreman for a clean-up crew to clear out magical monsters from their construction zone. Richard's team had spent two weeks clearing out the monsters with limited success. As with anything involving large masses of water, creatures tended to hide in the nooks and crannies of the meandering river. Even with Lea's ability to displace liquid, they’d struggled to complete the Purge request.

On the fifth day, Richard's party had run afoul of Gill-Gobs, or Mer-Goblins, ravenous little creatures resembling Goblins with jaws built like that of piranhas. These creatures were hyper-aggressive, with a tendency to swarm when the pack grew too large for their underwater warren or when their homes were destroyed, which had been the case.

Richard had held off a dozen single-handedly, but there had been well over a hundred, each more agile in the water than even Richard with Lea's aid. Again and again, he’d regenerated Shields for himself and his allies, pulling them from the water, but even so, they’d been overwhelmed. Richard had done his best, but only when help had arrived in the form of a construction Golem dropping ten tons of gravel had he made his hair-breadth escape.

By the time he’d swum to shore, he was wounded all over his body and soon lost consciousness thanks to blood loss. After that, he’d woken up in Shanghai Metropolitan Hospital.

"Bloody oath." Gwen felt her tear ducts loading up on Water Bolts. She’d considered the possibility of Richard becoming injured before, but this was a return ticket to the afterlife and back, and it had come out of nowhere. She wasn't one for tears over the odd broken bone, but she couldn't prevent her mind from spinning like a top when she considered that but for a healing potion, she might have lost him.

"It's only to be expected," Richard said. "Who doesn't get injured while Adventuring?"

"But not like this. You almost died!" Gwen knelt by her cousin's side and cupped his face. "You're not allowed to die on me, do you understand? Under no circumstances can you die."

"I understand." Richard closed his eyes and gave her a reassuring smile. "I didn't mean to put myself in that much danger. It was an unforeseen accident."

Gwen wanted to say something akin to never again, but she wasn't a naive waif anymore. If she desired Richard to accompany her on the IIUC tour, it was with absolute certainty that life and limb would be on the line.

When the food arrived, delivered by the same NoM from lunch, Gwen sat by Richard's side and tore up his order of baby back ribs, feeding her cousin by the spoonful.

Petra arrived an hour later, just after seven pm.

Without knocking, she opened the door and strode toward Richard with a spell cube in hand. "I went and collected a Lesser Restoration from Babulya. Dropped by the hospital as soon as I got your Message. Mina's on-route as well."

"I'll be fine," Richard chuckled painfully. "It's just a scratch."

"You were almost worm-meat!" Gwen protested.

"Nonsense." Petra allowed the spell to diffuse Richard's body. "He'll be fine after some bed rest."

A warm glow suffused his body. "Well, that's nice." Richard breathed out. "You don't realise until after the fact how much healing takes out of you."

"It's possible to die from healing, as stupid as that sounds," Petra said. "Your boss means well, but he's an idiot. Two potions could have hollowed you out entirely. How badly were you wounded?"

"He couldn't have gotten you a Restoration?" Gwen’s chest felt like a tightening knot.

"You should have asked for a transfer to the second PLA Hospital," Petra said. "Babulya would have taken care of you."

Richard shook his head. "I'd rather not owe them anything. The Songs, I mean."

Her cousin's answer caught Gwen off-guard. Hadn't she boasted only weeks ago that she'd broken free, weaned off the teat?

Petra slapped Richard on the back of the head. "Don't be a prideful idiot," she scolded him, glancing at Gwen. "You think Babulya cares about that? Don't think so little of our grandmother."

"Okay."

"Promise me you'll ask Babulya for help next time," Gwen demanded.

"Of course," Richard replied. "Thank you, both of you."

"Where's Lea?" Petra asked.

"She's tired, resting," Richard assured them. "Defending the others took a lot out of her."

Which meant whatever had attacked them had been strong enough to destroy Lea's morphic form. Richard wasn't telling them the whole truth.

Clack.

For the second time, the door opened without a knock.

"Richard!" Mina came into the room and made a beeline for the Water Mage. "Oh, Mao! You look terrible."

Her cousin immediately revved up her best healing spell. "Mina, He's already got a—" Petra began.

"Restoration!"

The mid-tier spell consumed the ingredients in an instant. In the next second, a surge of excessive Positive Energy forced the immortal part of Richard out of his body.

"Richard!"

"Too much Restoration." Richard's eyes rolled to the back of his head as the Positive Energy ravaged his physical form.

The girls watched the Water Conjurer convulse.

"Dick, are you alive still? Should I call Babs?" Gwen asked.

Her cousin pulled himself up by the armrest and regarded the three girls. Gwen found herself kneeling by his side. Petra stood impatiently by the other armrest, one hand resting on her hips. Mina's eyes were misty with anxiety.

"Er…" Richard awkwardly moved his legs. Gwen was instantly distracted by his growing haleness. Petra followed Gwen's gaze, her face transforming from worry to passivity, then into her usual frigidity. Mina's face took on the warmth of magma.

Gwen supposed that it was only natural. After all, Eros and Thanatos were the Freudian forces that constituted the human condition.

"Too much healing," Richard muttered weakly. "All the blood has gone from my head."

But no one stayed around to answer him. The door slammed, and the girls left him on his own.

On Tuesday week, Gwen received her Sustenance Bangle—two of them. One white and one black, colour-matched to her Familiars.

As instructed, she channelled her Conjure Familiar through the wrist rings, first calling forth Caliban, who emerged in its serpentine form, then Ariel as a horned marten. Even in its principal shape, Caliban was monstrously large, well over seven feet of obsidian glass sculpted with interlocking, semi-transparent chitin. Ariel, thankfully, juxtaposed Caliban in its fuzzy and adorable docile form, staring at the world with golden eyes sparkling with curiosity, sniffing its surroundings with its dark nose.

Her fellow students had their Familiars out as well. Eunae with her doe, Ji with his tiger-cub,

Bao, with his waterbird, Ming, with his floating koi, and Lu with his sweet-as-anything Lightning Hawk. They kept away from Gwen, who stood with a cute marten over one shoulder and what looked like an abominable Amazonian-armoured earthworm coiled around her white ankles.

"Acceptable." Instructor Chen finished inspecting the lot of them. "Now, we go for a walk."

The troop began to shuffle out from the underground, emerging into the daylight of Fudan's secondary campus. The Bestiary students immediately caused a stir as they stepped into the public space, drawing eyes from all over. Mages and passersby from the surrounding area began to gather as they pointed out the unusual nature of each spirit and approximated their owner's origins.

Then the crowd fell silent as Gwen emerged with her twin Familiars.

"SHAA!" She could sense Caliban's burgeoning hunger through their empathic link.

Caliban did not ask for permission before it slithered away and made a line for what Gwen presumed was a Positive-Energy channeller. The fresh-faced young man was pointing at Caliban and saying something to the tune of "Wocao! What the fuck is that?" when the serpent about-faced him.

"Caliban, back!" Gwen commanded her pet.

Caliban reared to its full height like a cobra, almost a metre and a half off the ground, and attempted to halt itself before it ran into its unfortunate victim.

"Arrrrragh!" The young man screamed.

"Eeee!" his girlfriend joined in soprano.

"EE-EE!" Ariel scolded Caliban.

"Shaa! Shaa!" Caliban sang.

The crowd went wild.

"Caliban! No, come back!" Gwen pleaded with her wild Familiar. But it was too late.

A volley of relatively harmless Magic Missiles struck her Void Familiar, causing it to open its carapace and actively demand from Gwen the vitality needed to activate its combat form. Before she willed it to back down, the bangle kicked in, and Caliban was gone.

The culprits must have realised they had attacked someone's Familiar, as they quickly fled the scene, the crowd breaking into scattered cheers and mocking jeers.

The rest of her classmates looked over at Gwen with expressions of disbelief, schadenfreude and amusement.

Instructor Chen pinched the bridge of his brow.

Gwen felt an ardent desire to flee the scene right there and then, but her pride didn’t allow such a pitiful display of surrender. She made sure that despite the beetroot complexion of her face, she was in control of her body language. Placing one leg in front of the other, she regally joined the others, wearing Ariel like a minx-scarf around her neck.

"Pitiful," Instructor Chen snorted mercilessly. "Go home and meditate. Work on bonding sessions. Run routines until they learn to stay by your side."

"I managed with Ariel," Gwen retorted defiantly.

Chen shook his head. "Go home," he commanded.

Defeated and humiliated, Gwen stalked from the scene, aided by her new mastery of Expeditious Retreat.

The rest of week two came on like a haze.

Ariel slept smugly on the thousand-thread count bed sheets.

Caliban slept in a cot that Gwen had purchased and was covered with a plastic tarp. The netherworld worm tended to drool in the middle of the night. The first night she'd shared a bed with it, she’d woken at one am with a pool of viscous goo collecting across her chest and arms as the sleepless serpent meandered back and forth listlessly.

On the second night, she realised an even bigger problem. Caliban, a thing of the Void, did not sleep.

Like a bleary-eyed mother, she had woken in the middle of the night, startled and upset, to find Caliban wandering the bedroom, snuggling up in her clothes or digging up her trash. By morning, it had consumed three pairs of thankfully non-enchanted intimates, including a favourite bra.

Comparatively, Ariel had controllable bouts of curiosity and mischief, whether running into traffic to investigate a particularly loud vehicle, harassing student Mages for crystals or zipping across sidewalks to startle the innocent sausage vendor.

Following Instructor Chen's advice, she began taking both Familiars into the garden to run routines with a "shadowing" technique.

Start. Stop.

Start. Stop.

If they succeeded, then it was LDMs treat time.

Sit. Wait. Hold for ten seconds. Reward again!

Unlike unintelligent pets, Familiars have an empathic link with their Masters and thus with what the Master wished. Therefore, she had to establish unambivalent dominance to polish up the mental control of her pets.

Ariel took to training like a duck to water, but Caliban remained easily distracted and skittish.

According to her Instructor, there was little else for her to do but keep desensitising her pets to external stimuli and creating a strong sense of discipline and routine. If she could get her Familiars trained in their passive form by week seven, she could move on to Combat Training. If not, he would advise her to give up on being a Creature Mage until such time that her Conjuration became sufficiently forceful to compel her Familiar into absolute obedience.

However, taking that route meant that her Familiars would always be weaker than herself by half a tier. So Gwen had no intentions of giving up. Whatever it took, she was determined to pin Caliban's dogged will under her stiletto heels.

Chapter twenty-four

The Troubles

By the third week, Gwen could take Caliban out for a jog without inciting a public incident.

At the same time, it didn't take long for a new Great Mystery of Fudan to circulate the campus.

"If you go to Guoding Road and Unversity Boulevard around eight am, you may see a ghostly gweilo beauty jogging with a Mongolian Death Worm."

It was an absurd rumour, of course, but then lumen pics began to circulate of a beautiful girl in varying sports tops fleeing from a monstrous Death Worm.

Thankfully, Gwen was by then blissfully immune. If passersby wanted images of Caliban, who was she to deny them? She was in public and on common land.

Her routine took her through Fudan's shaded avenues, where the early spring wind hung heavy with moisture as it blew through blooming sycamores and mulberries, filling the air with the fecund scent of future fruit. With elfin grace, she meandered between the dappled trees, her hair swaying from side to side. Fellow joggers, able-bodied and clean-cut, nodded as she passed, then fled Caliban at thrice her speed.

Her monstrous Mongolian Death Worm trailed closely behind, slithering across the pavements with its rasping, chitinous underbelly raking the pebble path. Despite lacking a face, it seemed to sense its surroundings, avoiding the occasional pale-faced pedestrian too weak with revulsion to flee. Occasionally, when the armoured creature grew tired, it split its obsidian carapace four ways and panted from its lamprey's mouth, drooling profusely as its tentacled tongues tasted the air. That was when the sidewalk became a private resting area.

Occasionally, Chengguan stopped them, though the city guards were polite to a fault, more often than not asking Gwen for a lumen pic to show their colleagues.

As lumen recordings of the woman and worm spread, Gwen's infamy grew. At first, she presumed news of her Void talent would catch the popular imagination, but alas, it was Gwen's cohabitation with the Ice Queen that set tongues wagging. Were she and Petra an item? Was that the reason why the Flower of Fudan refused to date anyone?

No, no, they're cousins.

Oh, thank God.

Or so it went.

Over time, she grew numb to the stress of Caliban's constant company.

In Conjuration, Lily and the unfortunately phonic Pu took only a few days to acclimatise to Caliban's presence. From Gwen's perspective, the physical interaction with Caliban must have been a real thrill, for Lily squealed with such delight that half the lecture turned their heads. Consequently, a new vogue began in her Conjuration classes. Every student and their Familiars wanted to touch Gwen's Mongolian Death Worm.

As to why they kept calling Caliban a Death Worm, Gwen could only search her audience's eager faces for answers they did not have. But she was okay with the misnomer. She was fine with anything as long as people were willing to give Caliban a fair go.

Evocation was a more significant problem. Overstimulated by sound and the flurry of rough magic and volatile elements in the air, Caliban had unsummoned itself twice in as many weeks when it escaped her mental leash and fled into the fray or tried to investigate some Mage only to be blasted by flame, ice, magma, air and stone. Spell Shaping degenerated into a hot mess.

The first time she’d showed up with Caliban, she’d cleared half the lecture. Micho Lee, the Magister presiding, had become so upset that he’d made Gwen sit in the far corner by herself. Then, after news had spread of Caliban's obedience in the subsequent week, the problem became curious students trying to attract Caliban with LDMs. When Caliban got overexcited and opened its carapace to catch a shard, it cleared the lecture again.

After a third incident, Magister Lee personally Banished Caliban. It was an impressive spell, but the show of force also incapacitated Gwen for a whole evening.

Ariel, meanwhile, took advantage of the situation to win hearts and minds, stuffing its mouth pouches full of crystal fragments.

In Bestiary, Chen grilled the students on their performances and recorded metrics for control, obedience and compliance from each student's Familiar. Caliban waffled below average, while Ariel shone like a beacon.

"That is an uncommonly intelligent beast," Chen remarked. "That Evocation-channel ability is something else as well."

Happy that her good boy had received recognition, Gwen ruffled Ariel's fur and snuggled it against her bosom. The marten purred and whined, licking her face with its little pink tongue.

At the same time, the marten had struck up a friendship with Luyi, Eunae's doe, though both of them seemed to antagonise Wanli, Lu's Lightning Hawk.

Thanks to Ariel, Eunae had taken a fondness to Gwen as well. Unlike herself, the timid girl remained uncomfortable around the men, especially the braggadocio Lu. As Gwen watched the lithe Healer manipulate her Familiar, she thought of Elvia and her Sprite, Kiki. What are they doing now? She wondered. When will they install her LRC device?

The one Conjurer who remained aloof in their group was Lu Fung.

“Senior Lu is rude,” Eunae complained and was overheard by the Instructor.

Chen observed the horrified Healer, then explained an interesting fact. “Did you know, Gwen, that the side effect of Lightning Affinity manifested as quickened metabolism and an irrational sense of pride and possessiveness?”

Oh? Gwen attempted a little introspection. Was she proud? Indubitably, though no more than her favourite femme, Elizabeth Bennet. Was she possessive? Which woman wasn't? Metabolism? She doubted her absurd ability to digest enough food for three adult males was a product of Elemental Lightning.

At any rate, Chen persisted in his hypothesis. "Lightning is closest to the mentality of Dragons," he said as if that explained Lu's brattiness. Gwen could only presume he meant Chinese Dragons—four-footed serpents with tiger paws, eagle claws, demon eyes and fish scales, sailing through the heavens without equal. Western Dragons, to her knowledge, were natural disasters.

"Yes, I meant the Shenglong," Chen clarified. "The one said to possess the Kunlun Mountains."

"Oh? Is there dragon-kin about the place? Can we harvest Draconic cores from the demi-Dragons?" Gwen asked for her Creature Core-munching Ariel.

"Don't." The Master Creature-Mage hewed her enthusiasm with a single stroke. "Dragons are avaricious and licentious. There's not a species of creatures within a hundred kilometres of that nest that isn't half-dragon something. Imagine a pack of lightning-breathing half-dragon rabbits, half-dragon flocks of geese or draconic fish. The whole damn range is guarded by Hobs as well—Draconic Hobs."

"Are they dangerous?"

"What do you think, little miss? Magic slides off their scales like water off a duck's back."

"But surely—"

"You wouldn't want a Dragon Core anyway," Chen said. "If another Dragon senses that you've captured, robbed, usurped or fed your Familiar one of its species, prepare for heavenly retribution. No one and I mean no one fucks with Dragons for a reason."

"How about—"

"But I suppose a pseudo-Draconic Core is fine. I mean, there's a shitload of them, whole bloody mountains worth!" Chen laughed. "Good luck getting one, though. They're resistant to magic and near immune to lightning. What are you going to fight them with? Oh, right, you're Void as well. Look, focus on training, alright?"

Friday night of the third week, Gwen sat with Richard in her living room. The two listened to the demonic trill of the modem, aka her LRM device, singing its song of unholy Divination. When the device finally connected to Sydney, they were treated by a vision of Alesia in red.

"Okay, tiger. Dick's folks are here. Call me if you need me."

It was a session Gwen had arranged for Richard. She’d planned it since his return from Nantong.

"Richard? Oh my God, Richard!" Aunty Tali burst into uncontrollable sobs.

"My boy. How's life in Shanghai?" Kwan's eyes were red as well. "Gwen, it's good to see you're doing well. Has Richard been taking care of you? Is he being good?"

Gwen made polite small talk, then retreated to her room to give Richard some privacy. Petra had already withdrawn for their benefit as well. The walls were thin, though, made from pre-fabricated fibro, meaning everyone caught every word between her cousin and his doting parents.

In the living room, Richard spoke of recent events, his adventures with Gwen in the dungeon, his work, and his progress on gathering the necessary CCs. His parents grew into a frenzy of worry, telling Richard that they were in no rush and that his priority should be his safety. It was all heartwarming, nurturing in Gwen a prickling, resentful envy as the call progressed.

"Gwen!" Richard called.

Gwen emerged to see Opa. Her kindly opa, gnarled like an old branch but as hale as sunshine, stood before the crystalline projector. All her accumulated discontent diffused at once. 'Opa!" Gwen cried out. "Opa! Opa! Opa!"

"My cute cucu perempua." Her grandfather's familiar voice rang out. "I've missed you so, little one."

She couldn't embrace the illusion, of course, but Gwen made an effort.

"How are you? What have you been doing? What’s going on over there? Where have you gone? How are the Songs treating you? I heard there was a dungeon. Duels? University? Scholarships?" A barrage of questions assailed Gwen from Opa's thick lips.

Watching Opa's face, Gwen forgot about the one HDM call rate. She answered his questions one by one in meticulous detail, everything from Singapore to the Songs, to her dungeon, her exams, her farewell with Helena, her apartment-hunting and her university courses. When she’d finally finished, they were well into the evening.

"Very well, my cucu perempua, remember Opa loves you. No matter what the Songs say, there will always be an opa here in Sydney waiting for your return."

"Thanks, Opa." Gwen wiped away some moisture from her eyes. "I'll come back soon, I promise."

Opa's visage went away to be replaced by a very sleepy Alesia. "Gwen, I’m happy you enjoyed your time together, but all of this is happening in my apartment."

"Sorry," Gwen said. "Please, I release you, O Djinn of Fire, return to your plane."

Alesia laughed. "Earlier, I contacted the Pudong Tower and they said that your care package should be arriving at the Song Estate. My God, ocean freight is so slow."

"My old address?"

"Where you first holed up."

"Ah," Gwen said rigidly. "Okay, I'll call Babulya tomorrow."

"Right, I’m going to hang. This whole session will cost you two hundred HDMs. Are you alright with funds over there? I could… you know."

"I'll be alright," Gwen said. "I could do with some part-time work, even if just to get out and get some air and exercise."

"Okay." Alesia leaned in closer. "Guess what? The ‘Shard’ Tower in London Messaged me today as well. Elvia's LRC device is slated for installation. I'll send you her glyph codes soon."

"Awesome. Cheers, Allie," Gwen beamed. Elvia, so close at hand!

"Ha, it's a pleasure, Gwennie," Alesia replied. "Ciao!"

The image faded.

Gwen laid back against the couch and took in the afterglow of her opa's boundless affection. She wouldn't be able to return to Australia for at least three to four years, but she was free to dream and fantasise about the eventuality. What would it be like when she returned? Would Gunther have finished repairing the city? Would it once again be safe? What about the Mermen?

Gwen poured herself a glass of milk from the fridge, heated it with a simple cantrip, then nursed its warmth in her hands. She watched the city blinking below, winking and glowing with all the lust for life that a metropolis of twenty-two million souls engendered. Arterial highways in streams of red and white formed three massive loops, each larger than the last, reaching into a cityscape that illuminated the horizon.

She had a parcel to pick up. Therefore, she would see Babulya on Sunday and maybe, hopefully, Percy as well.

The lesson of the day in Conjuration was mass versus mana transfer over distance. Gwen felt lightheaded as soon as the mess of formulas appeared on the illusory projection board.

"The amount of mana expended for mass transfer is inversely proportional to the square of the distance," Magister Birch explained. "Be extremely wary of object density. If you should fail to translocate an object, the feedback will be of equal or greater force."

Translocation was Birch's speciality and he helped Gwen recognise the nuance of being a Transportation Specialist. She recalled Paul, the Translocation Mage specialising in Teleportation and other transit spells, who worked for Alesia. The mousy man had been the one responsible for evacuating the students at Rosebay, not to mention the one who’d set up the mandala array that had allowed Magister Irene Ferris' team to penetrate the Sydney Tower. Gwen hadn't thought of the Mage as unique back then, but now she knew Paul was an irreplaceable expert.

"Understanding one's limitations is therefore central to any Translocation Specialist."

Magister Birch installed two mandala arrays on either side of the auditorium, one near the entrance to the hall and the other where Gwen and Caliban had been segregated from the rest of the class. The mandala itself resembled a six-petalled lotus drawn onto the floor with glyphs that Gwen had seen underneath the PLA Tower at the ISTC when she'd first arrived in Shanghai.

"For small objects, the mana capacity of an average Mage is enough." The Magister demonstrated by transporting a five-kilogram cube of iron between the two teleportation circles, filling the dark auditorium with the silvery light of Conjuration. He then materialised a chunk of what resembled lead from his storage ring. An indent inscribed alongside the knee-height block of mystery metal said "50kg".

"Unlike living bodies, which can be tuned to project astrally, objects without life must be given a Teleportation Metric Index or TMI. Furthermore, the simpler the makeup of the item you’re transporting, the less chance of complications."

The Magister transported the cube back and forth a few times, allowing the students to gauge the volume of mana required. Where the five-kilogram block had been near-negligible, the fifty-kilogram block strained the Magister.

"Now for a cautionary demonstration." Birch produced an overly complicated gearbox within a glass-cased mechanism and wound up the clockwork. He then teleported the construct between the two mandalas. After the thirtieth time, there was a clonk, and the box ceased its purposeless function.

"The more mixed material and intricacies are involved in an item, the more difficult it is to transport without the item becoming warped as it travels through the Astral Plane. This phenomenon likewise increases with distance, volume and weight. There is currently no known way to mitigate Tellestolle's Paradox. However, Translocation Mages can alleviate degradation with minor tweaks or interface aid from Divination and Transmutation."

Gwen duly noted Birch's wisdom.

"Now, some material variations." Birch materialised blocks of hard metal, collated shale, sandstone, a slab of crystal and a chunk of fragile-looking glass. "Material resonance during the transportation is likewise impacted by distance and mass."

The Magister made the students record the volume and weight of each object, then began a practical on teleportation fatigue and the stress exerted on different materials. The crystal shattered after the fifteenth excursion, while the sandstone crumbled after the tenth.

"Who here has experienced Long Range Teleportation before?"

No one answered.

Magister Birch pointed to the girl with the Mongolian Death Worm. "Gwen?"

Gwen looked up. Caliban hissed. Ariel flattened itself against her legs.

"You're from the Frontier. How did you get here?"

"Teleportation, sir." Gwen felt her face glow as a few students in the audience snickered.

"How did you fare? Be honest with us."

Gwen felt pressured to satisfy the Magister. The gaze of her fellow Conjurers made her skin crawl. "I was sick all over the shoes of my escort." She spoke just loud enough to be heard. "I was disorientated and dazed for almost a day and night after."

"Indeed, thank you, Gwen, for sharing." Birch turned to the lecture. "The human body, capable of channelling mana and responding to the magical energies of translocation, is largely exempt from the small inconsistencies of dislocation and displacement. However, not even the human body is immune to teleportation fatigue. Your organs and innards will be shifted and shunted before being set back in place by the incantation. The greater the distance undergone, the more severe the sickness. That is why long-range translocation must be executed in a place of absolute safety. Even the best of Mages will be disabled by the disorientation of distance."

"My escorts were unaffected by the compression," Gwen said to the Professor.

"As they should be," Magister Birch answered, then walked away.

Gwen waited for an answer before realising none would be forthcoming. She leaned back, then ran a hand over Caliban to dispel her annoyance. Ariel ran its face against her other hand, ever the empathic one.

"EE, ee!" A cold nose nudged her palm. From her empathic link, the Familiar communicated that it sensed the gaze of a predator. Gwen subtly turned, then glanced up.

Far above her, seated at the rear, she saw the always silent Lu Fung, dazedly stroking the Lightning-Hawk perched on his shoulder.

Just a week ago, he’d entered the hall, the very centre of praise and envy. Then Gwen had walked past him, sat at the bottom of the lecture with her friends, and the world seemed to have instantly forgotten that the fourth son of the Fung Clan existed.

The man appeared surprised that she would so unexpectedly turn to look at him. A split second later, he masked his awkwardness with a smile and a nod. Gwen nodded back, then returned her attention to Magister Birch.

Lu Fung of the Nantong Fungs. Her dearest hope was that his interest in her was the Netflix and chill variety, and not the interesting times kind.

Chapter twenty-five

Paternal Issues

Saturday

Gwen took a break from biometrics and practice, spending her third semester weekend with her babulya. It had been almost six weeks since Gwen had seen or spoken to her brother, burdening her with a growing sense of guilt.

For Percy's neglect to call her, Gwen chose forgiveness. The boy was just a teenager seeking affirmation from Guo, thereby possessing excellent excuses like immaturity and inexperience. As such, since Percy's fault was not knowing better, her abandonment of her baby brother was a choice she did not wish to make. She had lost him once in her old life. This time, she wanted to do better.

"Don't fret. Your grandfather isn't home," her babulya assured Gwen as she stepped from the sedan. Gwen had been quiet the whole while because her Divination senses had been grating her, agitating her with an inner itch she couldn’t scratch. She scanned the courtyard.

"Percy's inside," her grandmother said. "He should be training right about now. Leave your Familiar and pick up the package later."

Gwen nodded, then made her way through the familiar layout of the Song estate. There was no doubt that news of her faux-excommunication had spread, for the servants avoided her as she passed through the long corridor of the siheyuan.

When she arrived at the training hall, there were sounds of exertion audibly emanating from within. She knocked.

"Come in!" Her brother's voice reverberated. The sliding door pulled back to reveal Percy, son of Hai, heir apparent to the Clan of Song, Guan-er-dai in residence.

"Sis!" Percy appeared startled to see his sister strolling back into her old abode.

The boy—or more accurately, young man—was half-naked and bathed in snail sheen. It was evident that Guo had been training and feeding Percy well, for her brother looked to have picked up ten kilograms in muscle mass, concentrated across his chest and arms. His face as well, which had always appeared juvenile to Gwen, was starting to take Hai's prominent jawline.

"Who's this handsome young man? Where did my baby brother go?" Gwen broke the ice with a genuine compliment.

Percy grinned, then greeted her formally. His voice sounded deeper as well, more resonant and powerful.

Her baby brother must have grown conscious of his state of undress, for he materialised a towel from thin air with a nonchalant gesture, then wrapped its length around his shoulders.

A medium storage ring, Gwen noted. How quickly they grow up.

"How's training going?" Gwen stepped into the renovated training hall. The gym's present state barely resembled the spartan space she had called home for three weeks. All manner of equipment had been introduced to the once-empty room, from body-building machines to magic-training equipment. From a glance, one would have thought Percy was training for the Mageocracy's Commonwealth Games.

"I've got a lot to catch up on," Percy explained, watching her eyes. "I am repeating a year in Xiao Ming, did you know that? There are three years of middle school in China. I am supposed to be in my second year, but Grandfather made me start from the beginning."

"Are you much older than your peers?" Gwen asked, wondering if her brother was being bullied.

"I am not the oldest, no," Percy answered with a smirk. "Did you know the school is co-ed? Thank God, I thought I was going to be stuck for another three years in an all-male campus."

That last comment made Gwen think of their father. "Percy, if you spend your time chasing skirts—"

"No. No way!" Her brother's face reddened. "As if I have the time."

"Good. Let Dad be your anti-role model," Gwen said with a crooked smile. "So, how's the magic coming along?"

"I'm officially an Evoker. They told me I’m suited to Transmutation too but that I should focus on Evocation for now. Grandfather says Evocation-Transmutation is an excellent combination for Quasi-Elemental Salt. It's the same as Uncle Jun."

"Wow, that's wonderful." Gwen wanted to give her brother a congratulatory hug, but the young man was still steaming odiously. "Can I see? Are you able to use Salt safely now?"

"Yes," Percy boasted happily. "All thanks to…" His gleeful mien froze mid-expression.

Gwen followed Percy's guilty gaze until her eyes rested on his chest. There, a length of red string ended with a pale-coloured pendant in milk-white jade.

The Kirin Amulet. It was milky white. Last she recalled, it was jade with strands of marbled scarlet.

"Percy…" Her words halted halfway, for the moment her thoughts grew to envelop the amulet, she felt the ground under her give way. Fighting the indescribable sense of metaphysical vertigo, she felt her Divination Sigil ignite as never before, petrifying her spine with a solid jolt of adrenaline. Struggling to control herself, she forced her gaze to lift from the lamb's fat colour of the Kirin Amulet, noting that the marbling strands of pinkish veins still existed faintly.

"C-congratulations." Gwen finally managed to say, even though her tongue felt as heavy as a slab of stone. Watching her brother flinch, she felt an immediate sense of regret. Christ, she thought, how incredibly guilty I must seem, freaking out after seeing him making use of "my" Creature Core. But it wasn't as though she could explain the subtler points of passive Divination to her brother, not when it sounded like a piss-weak excuse, even to herself.

"Master, I mean Grandfather, taught me how to use it," Percy said carefully, his body understandably tensing at his sister's queerness. "The Negative Energy feeds into the amulet and becomes displaced by the essence held within."

"It does that?" Gwen circulated Almudj's Essence until she was fully restored and calm. "You can tap into its store of essences now?"

Suddenly, Percy took a step back, just out of her reach. Gwen smiled, wondering if her Essence had startled him. Despite the stillness of the air outside, the interior of the training hall was beginning to feel rather hot.

"Yes. I can use the Kirin Core." It was a statement, Gwen noticed. A show of determination. "It was painful at first, but I powered through it. I can use it now. Would you like a demonstration?"

"Sure."

"Here, let me show you." Percy moved away from her. There was a churning of Evocation, a sudden drying of the air. Before Gwen's eyes, the accumulated sweat on Percy's brow instantly evaporated. "Salt Bolt!"

A sliver of silvery salt formed into a razor-sharp crystal appeared in the air, then shrieked toward the targeted platform. It struck the transmuted surface with a thud, then shattered into thousands of ice-like fragments.

"And I just learned this—Smite!"

The residual salt scattered about the platform suddenly collated, then erupted once again, sending out a shockwave ringed with jagged salt shards. After covering the intended area of effect, the salt faded into the aether. The target, torn and blasted, began to restore itself through its inbuilt Transmutation Glyph.

"What do you think?" Percy turned to her with bright eyes.

It was only then that Gwen realised she hadn't paid attention to Percy. Instead, her eyes had remained locked on the amulet, where the marbled vein of red embedded into the milk-white jade throbbed as though alive. She noticed her chest rose and fell with the same cadence as Percy's, in sync with the ebb and flow of mana within the Kirin Core.

"Wonderful," she announced hurriedly. She even clapped a few times. "You're progressing so fast."

"Thanks, sis." Percy smirked. "Say, I gotta take a shower and finish up here. Do you want to stay for lunch or…?"

"I've got errands," Gwen said, her mood miles from her usual hospitality thanks to her unintended rudeness.

The amulet. The damned amulet. It was all she could think about, driving her to distraction. Was it jealousy? Was she envious of the fact that he was using it? She knew it was silly to feel possessive over something she had willingly given up.

"Babulya is still waiting," Gwen added unconvincingly, too preoccupied to even continue her act.

"Alright, sis." Percy paralleled her aloofness.

"Take care of yourself, Percy. I'll come to visit now and then."

"Thanks."

"See you later."

"Laters, sis."

Gwen left the room and walked stiffly from the training hall toward the central courtyard. In between her Divination-driven anxiety and self-loathing, she was reminded of another explanation for the amulet's altered state. Was it possible that a bit of Almudj was still in the amulet? Was all of Al's Essence spent or could there still exist a tiny sliver of the mythical beast within the Kirin Core?

Gwen paused by the tranquil water feature to gather her thoughts. She was out of the east wing now, away from the shadows of the white walls and into the light of the central garden.

She closed her eyes for a few seconds, feeling the warmth of the sun on her hair and shoulders. The damned Divination was at peace now, acting as though it had known nothing.

Why had it freaked out? Could she trust the untrained instinct of her Divination Sigil? What good could come from responding to such a vague and unreliable feeling?

She thought of Mayuree and the advice the superior Diviner had given her. "Don't look into self-premonitions, not if you want to have a life. Let it be. Be ready. If you're wrong, you've wasted your time. If you're right, you've wasted your time."

Likewise, from her old world, Hamlet had offered a similar warning. We defy augury: there's a special providence in the fall of a sparrow.

Her problem, Gwen sighed, was that she wasn't Prince Hamlet, nor was she meant to be.

She was fortune's fool.

Percy Song stumbled into the shower, his body shaking with nausea. He hadn't even bothered removing his pants as he stepped into the frigid stream of running water to cool his head. Instantly, the coldness calmed him, drowning the fever in his brain.

There was something in the amulet.

At first, he’d thought it was a part of the ritual. After all, Guo had stated that their predecessors had killed thousands, if not tens of thousands, of magical creatures, including demi-humans, in their Clan's history and that their "souls" had been absorbed by the Kirin Core. The Clan technique that Grandfather had taught him was based on the Kirin Core's characteristic and allowed Percy to redirect the yin energies of the Salt element into the amulet to be purified. That way, the Kirin Amulet protected his body from corrosion and provided him with additional mana, passive empowerment and enhanced constitution.

In truth, as a Prince-educated Mage, Percy only ever half-trusted the mumbling mysticism Guo fed into him. His yeye was a master indoctrinator, but Percy had already experienced years of that sort of thing in Sydney. Regardless, he played along—it made Guo happy, which was what mattered.

Once his attunement was complete and training had begun in earnest, the amulet had changed. As he’d channelled more of himself into it, its jade-green exterior had fallen away, becoming something that resembled a bone-coloured stone. Grandfather had been amazed and told him that this showed he was well-suited to the yin stone. He had even patted Percy's head tenderly as his eyes had grown moist with sentimentality.

Percy chose not to tell his yeye that Guo was wrong and that he had sensed something alien in the stone. How could he? What would Guo say if he professed to fear the thing that may or may not be lurking in the family heirloom? What kind of heir would be stricken with thalassophobia when the source of that fear was a dead Kirin Core?

Whatever the case, Percy was sure something prowled within the Kirin Stone and now he was positive it had something to do with his sister. When she’d entered the room, he’d felt consumed by an indescribable agitation, overwhelmed by a shapeless, vague longing. Thankfully, unlike his sister, Percy was far better at controlling his emotions. He’d realised how much she desired the Kirin Core when her exquisite face had turned white, then pink. He knew because when she’d left, the feeling had subsided entirely.

"It's mine," he said to the running water.

Against his back, the cold shower felt heavenly.

Gwen took luncheon with Klavdiya not far from the Song Estate. It was a good choice, for its signature Xiaoxiang stirfries were surprisingly tasty for a place of questionable decor and hygiene.

Distractedly, Gwen listened as Babulya explained that Percy was doing well in his new school, becoming popular enough to join the SRC.

"Percy's Salt training—Grandfather is alright with the whole fertility thing?" Gwen enquired. Wasn't the old man obsessed over an heir?

Her babulya explained things were well in hand. "We're keeping a very close eye on Percy, not to mention that his Affinity has a long way to go. The Kirin Stone will negate the negative effects as well, becoming more efficient at filtering the Negative Drain with time."

Gwen recalled the first time her father had handed her the Kirin Amulet; she had asked him if it was unique in any way.

"It brings fertility and fortune." Her father had said. Now, Gwen could only reflect on her naivety and Hai's irresponsible indifference. How the hell could she have known that her dad had been dead serious?

"I see." Why didn't any of them fret about her potential infertility? Was it because she possessed the Druidic Essence? Or that she could forsake the Void and choose Lightning instead? Come to think of it, was she even expected to have children? That idea had consumed Helena, though not for any reasons a daughter should respect.

Children… Gwen sipped her tea absentmindedly. Even across two lifetimes, the idea of bearing a child seemed entirely abstract. She’d had no desire for children in her old life. As for her new life, Evee…

She quickly dismissed the thought. Instead, she distractedly replied to her babulya's thoughtful questions about her lessons and tests with Magister Wen. Still, the thought of children turned her mind once again to Evee. Christ, she missed Evee. How could anyone miss someone so much, and why was she thinking of Elvia now, of all times?

"Jun!" Her babulya's voice almost sent her reeling. "Over here!"

After the pandemonium of her confused thought about Elvia had lifted, Gwen turned from her waking daydream to see her uncle pass through the eatery entrance, hailing her and Babulya with one hand raised.

"Captain Song." The owner, a balding old man, saluted Jun as he passed.

"Good to see you, Corporal Chen. How're the kids?"

"Ah-Wong is doing well. The usual?"

"Please." Jun dismissed the owner politely before arriving at Gwen and Babulya's table.

Gwen stood to greet her uncle, but Jun motioned her to sit. "Ma'am." Jun pulled up a chair. "Gwen."

"Hi, Uncle Jun."

"Just made it?" Babulya asked cryptically.

"I had a few minutes to spare," Jun laughed. "But yes, I made it in time."

Gwen's eyes darted between her two elders. Each time she regarded her stubbled uncle with his circular beard, she wondered how two siblings raised under similar circumstances could be so different. Hai and Jun looked almost like twins, with the same envious jawline, the butt-chin, the lifted cheekbones from her babulya and dark eyes from their grandfather. Yet for all their genetic similarity, one was frivolous and more allergic to responsibility than any human being she had ever known. The other was the most responsible person in her immediate orbit.

She was struck by a bizarre fancy. Wouldn’t it be nice if Jun was her father? The hypothesis was absurd, of course. She couldn’t imagine Jun being attracted to Helena. On the other hand, being raised by a father who affirmed and cared would have worked wonders for both of her lost childhoods. Yue had once joked that she had Daddy issues. Elvia had found it funny as well, but Gwen's laughter had never been sincere; she knew herself too well.

A lifetime ago, Dr Monroe had communicated that she was generally physically distant, often emotionally absent and therefore highly insecure in a relationship. Despite her swaggering, independent, can-do attitude, she truanted regularly, sought cheap thrills and often endangered herself. That was why in the experimental stage of her life, she’d preferred much older men, and later, the company of the fairer sex.

"So what now?" Gwen had asked her psychologist.

"Let's start you off on Celexa and Buspar, and we'll go from there? Okay?" The drugs had worked, but Freud knew what else was simmering underneath her submerged psyche.

"Gwen, you in there still?"

As she refocused, Jun's worrisome face materialised close to her own.

"Sorry, Uncle Jun," she said. Ever since the episode with Percy, she'd felt mired in muck.

Jun exchanged a glance with Babulya, who must have passed over a Silent Message of some kind, for when Jun faced her again, he reached out and covered her hand with his own. "Gwen, you can tell me anything." Her uncle smiled awkwardly, but the gesture was genuine.

It was a simple thing, but it was something her father had never done for her. There had always been a distance, a pane, a degree of separation. Different to Jun, Hai's kindness always seemed rare and unanticipated.

"I-I am alright." She could think of no other reply. It wasn't as though she could complain that she felt peevish and upset that Morye hadn't taught her how to use the Kirin Stone, or that she wanted the amulet returned to her because she was waxing sentimental for a mythic serpent capable of reducing Shanghai to rubble. Should she tell her uncle that her Divination Sigil was driving her to madness? Her Uncle Jun meant well, but not even he could…

Her mind went blank, for Jun had just pinched her nose. It was such a puerile act she felt stunned.

"You don't have to be an adult all the time, Gwen. You're a child. Act like one." Jun held her gaze as he spoke. "We're family, right? No matter what father thinks. You're my niece, for Mao's sake. To me, there's only one of you in the world. I want to protect you as much as your babulya and my brother."

Gwen's rapidly misting eyes met her uncle's immovable gaze.

"I don't care what Guo says or what your father thinks or what Percy wants to do with the house. You're a part of my family. I like you, Gwen. Since I found you in the MSS holding facility, I've known that to be a fact. I want you to know that I am proud and happy about what you have done for Mina, Tao and Petra. My mother thinks the world of you and I do too. Can you believe that?"

Gwen felt her throat tickle. Could she believe him? She wasn't the trusting sort.

"I believe you." Her voice assumed her usual, confident cadence. Her uncle's kindness was like a dose of positivity she sorely needed after that amulet-induced anxiety attack. "Thank you, Uncle Jun. I am alright now."

Klavdiya exhaled in relief.

"Sorry, Babulya. I was distracted earlier," Gwen said. She must have made Babulya feel awful.

"That's okay, dear," her babulya returned kindly.

Jun squeezed his niece's delicate hands, his calloused palm brushing her tender fingers, but before he could enclose her hand, Gwen retracted her palm from his sandpaper grasp.

Her uncle's hand did not move.

Behind the counter, Chef Chen continued his stirfry masterpiece, filling the room with a warm glow and the air with a delicious scent of caramelising onions. Gwen touched her wayward hand to her nose.

"Sorry." Jun chuckled. "Did I bruise it?"

"I'll be fine. I've got my Druidic Essence, after all." Gwen wrinkled her celestial appendage cutely. That was the thing about Jun—he was so lovely and she couldn't tell if the man was two steps ahead of her or if her uncle's benevolence was instinctual. Surely, someone with the Ashbringer moniker hadn’t acquired such a chilling nickname by being Mr Rogers!

Gwen returned late to the apartment. Alesia's care package had remained unmolested by customs thanks to Jun's influence. She had forgotten all about the damned thing because after assuring her of his support, her Uncle Jun had listened to her worries and anxieties for an hour, going so far as to promise her that he would assist her growth in Spellcraft when the time was right.

"How about we go on a little trip?" he’d teased her. "A little adventure to train, just you and me. I know a place where you can work on boosting your elemental Affinity."

Gleefully, Gwen had told him she would like nothing else.

"That's a promise." Her uncle had laughed. "Just you and me, alright?"

Smiling at the memory, Gwen tore at the cellophane tape on the box from Alesia.

"Gwen, what in God's name are you doing?" Petra said as Gwen tried to search for the seam. In the background, Caliban and Ariel tussled on the shag carpet.

"Open the box?"

"Use Knock."

"Oh, yeah." Gwen blushed. "Er… Knock!"

The arcane energies of the Knock spell ran along the edges and unsealed the cellophane ducting within the span of half a second.

Gwen took out the contents. There was an assortment of goods within, each in individual packaging. Some were wrapped in cellophane, others were in boxes of plastic or cardboard. On top of the items was a letter. Gwen opened the envelope. Inside was a message from Alesia, Yue and Gunther. The card had a picture of a drunk koala with a speech bubble, saying, No worries, I am just old enough to get pissed.

Then below, it said:

Have a happy sweet seventeen! The very best from all of us who are rooting for you. Your siblings and friends.

The largest package was the first to be unwrapped, revealing an impressive pair of thigh-high, double-stitched, calf-skin boots, their brass heels inscribed with elaborate Transmutation glyphs.

Use these until you learn how to cast the real deal, read the attached note.

Petra ran a cubed Identify over the magical boots. "How delightful, a pair of vintage Boots of Flight," she cooed. "They’re an older model. These feed off your mana rather than crystals."

"Perfect for me, then." Gwen thought of the savings she could engender.

"Until you OoM mid-flight," Petra warned her, pointing out why the old models had been retired.

"I'll be careful." Gwen chuckled. "There's inbuilt Feather Fall, right?"

"As long as you're not OoM," Petra said.

Gwen unfolded the next package. It was a poncho made from what first appeared to be cashmere.

"Ah, a civilian class Optic-Camo." Petra was proving a font of magical item knowledge. "Slip it on over your head. Let's see the build quality."

Gwen slipped the cape across her shoulders. The fabric hung over her chest and back loosely until it reached her thighs.

"The activation glyph should be on the right side, inside the tag."

Gwen examined the glyph key. "Camouflage!" she said. The poncho shifted in colour until her torso blended into the living room so it looked as though Gwen was split in half, becoming a disembodied pair of legs and a floating head. It came with a hoodie that covered her head.

"Full body Optic-Camo are military-issue only," Petra informed her before Gwen could complain about the strangeness of having half a chameleon cloak. "The civilian model will keep you safe from prying predators and beasts from the sky, as well as give you relative cover if you remain stationary."

The final few packages were foodstuffs from home like jerky and Tim-Tams, as well as dried mangos from Opa's crew down on the ranch. Collating her loot, she apportioned them for sharing with Petra and Richard, as well as their upstairs neighbours.

A pair of Boots of Flight and a Camo cloak. That was because she'd told them she wanted to work for HDMs. Gwen could guess from the strategic selection that Gunther and Alesia expected her to do more than waitressing.

She had several options where that was concerned. She could take up a weekend occupation working with the local Adventuring Consortium. However, she doubted Magister Wen or her babulya were about to let her traipse into the bush with a group of strangers.

She could try the University Dungeoneering Club, which was safer.

Finally, she could make a party of her own—a team of cousins, for example—and take up Questing on the weekends.

Of course, all that would have to wait.

As it was the end of week three, in twenty-one days, she would have two mid-semester practicals and the excursion to the NoM hive city, the ominously named Districts 108 and 35. On the Metropolitan Map, 35 appeared to be located on the outer ring of the Second Orbital Highway and the Fourth-Intracity bypass. District 108 was almost fifty kilometres in the direction of Hangzhou.

The exams meant she only had three weeks to leash Caliban to her will, make her Conjure Elemental battle-ready, and learn at least another Evocation spell or two to use with Ariel.

As for her Familiars…

Gwen looked up to see Caliban attempting to swallow a mango whole, egged on by Ariel, who was munching on a kiwifruit. Realising that Gwen was watching, Caliban spat the mango back out, smothering the orange-red fruit in grey goo, looking as guilty as a thieving cat.

Chapter twenty-six

A Charmed Life

With the middle of the summer semester upon them, Magister Wen again called Gwen into the Cognisance Chamber. "You know, Gwen, it has occurred to me that there is a way to replicate Bar-gain-ginny," Magister Wen informed her.

Gwen looked up from her practice to see the researcher's eyes aglow with anticipation.

"Remember how we managed to simulate the green lightning with nothing but a Lightning-based Creature Core?"

Gwen nodded eagerly, then followed Wen's fingers until they arrived at Ariel. The marten perked up, thinking perhaps that the Magister was trying to offer it an HDM chip.

"There's your elemental mixer right there."

"EE-ee?" Ariel wrinkled its nose.

"But I can't channel the Druidic Essence," Gwen explained. "It doesn't blend into spells and certainly not into Familiars."

"Oh no, there's no need for that." The Magister stroked Ariel's furry, folded ears. "You told me once that Ariel could be empowered with your Druidic Essence, yes? Would that not count as mixing your Lightning element with the Druidic one?"

Gwen considered it. The idea wasn't crazy, though it went against the common sense of Spellcraft. "I think it's worth a try, ma'am," she answered confidently. "Ariel, come here, yum-yum."

She coaxed her Familiar closer and urged the Druidic mana to circulate through her body until it condensed at her fingertips, becoming a drop of congealed pale-green fluid resembling simmering tree-sap. Her marten took her finger and greedily suckled upon it until almost half of her reserve was gone. As expected, Ariel's internal mana conduits began to pulse with emerald energy, mingling with the raw cobalt of her injected lightning.

"Alright, let's see if my hypothesis is correct. Give Ariel the order," Wen commanded.

Gwen ordered Ariel to step away and face the far side of the chamber in the direction of an illusion-conjured target. She willed a surge of mana to enter the pet, watching the beast expand until it was almost the size of a small pony. Ariel’s tiny horns likewise elongated, becoming spiral swords branching off in the shape of a "Y" atop its mongoose head, giving it a menacing chimeric appearance.

"Barbanginy!" Gwen’s lips mouthed Almudj's mystic invocation, feeling her Lightning element course through her body and enter Ariel's combat form. Ariel's horns grew bright with hysterical static, and then a blast of jade-green lightning emitted from between the two horns. The ozone stench from the energised blast was so immense that the tennis-court-sized training room couldn’t contain the oppressive odour. Opposite, the glyphs fried, disabling the target.

A piece of old-world knowledge clicked into place for Gwen as she marvelled at the scorched tiles. The Cog Chamber was built to withstand blasts and bursts up to tier six. How was it possible that a tier-three Lightning Bolt could punch through the shielding?

Gwen thought of an old National Geographic magazine. She recalled reading that there were two distinct forms of lightning. The first, negative-charged lightning, accounted for almost all known strikes. These were usually up to three hundred million volts and could blast trees and conflagrate forests. Occasionally, when circumstance, chance and climate converged, nature allowed for forming a positively-charged plasma arc; a freakish occurrence with a current capacity exceeding a billion volts, amassing enough power to reduce giant Californian red oaks to smouldering wood chips.

She had no idea what the life energy of Almudj did to empower the lightning, but that was the analogy she concocted. The positive blast was exceedingly challenging to direct, but if Ariel could close in on the target and open with Guiding Bolt, she had a chance.

This way, Barbanginy could be her king-hit, to borrow an Australian pub crawl misnomer. She couldn’t control the outcome very well, but the effect on an enemy would likely be devastating, especially on an opponent expecting a regular Lighting spell.

They examined Ariel for damage and expenditure. Her magical marten had expended the Druidic Essence it had consumed earlier. Other than that, it appeared perfectly hale and eager for action.

Gwen attempted to produce another drop of the Druidic Essence, but her reserves only allowed for so much per day. Any more would require a supernatural stimulus.

"Wonderful, Gwen." Wen busily recorded their new findings. "I would recommend testing again in a few days to obtain some standardised metrics. I'd dare say the Ba-gain-ninny's inherent combative limitation is severe, but it may be useful as an artillery option, especially at the higher tiers."

"Of course, thank you, Magister." Gwen double-checked her astral reflection below. The spell had taken no more out of her than a regular Lightning Bolt. Its only limitation was her ability to produce Druidic Essence, then load up her pet with proverbial powder.

Chen's advice proved sound.

As mid-term quickly approached, Gwen's training regime with Caliban and Ariel finally began to take shape.

Perhaps because Caliban had already tasted, disturbed, harassed and terrorised everything molestable by its faceless muzzle, it was now "chill", even in public. Petra stated that the obedience could be because Gwen was growing close to the fifth tier of Conjuration—though Gwen preferred putting stock in Cali's good behaviour.

By Tuesday, Gwen had sustained the creature's presence in the material realm for four days.

Chen's attitude improved once Caliban no longer slithered for Eunae, snapped at Wanli or tried to nip at the other Familiars as they crossed one another's paths. Ariel, in stark contrast, had become the model Familiar; a poster pet of the good boy manifesto.

Gwen was also making gains on Transmutation and Evocation. Magister Wen had remarked that her absurd VMI of one hundred and thirty and over would do wonders for her training. Even so, her ability to bench the iron of repetitive Spellcraft exercises exceeded even the high esteem of her instructors. The average teen-Mage measured close to forty VMI, a talented Fudan student in the seventies, and those with bred-to-purpose bloodlines perhaps eighty. With twice the capacity, those young Casters could acquire mastery over complicated sigils.

Gwen had not measured her VMI since Babulya had taken her to the second PLA Hospital lab for her biometrics, though she was confident that, thanks to her growth in Conjuration, Evocation and Transmutation, her mana pool should exceed one hundred and forty.

Then there was the advantage that Gwen's elemental Affinity reduced her mana costs and casting fatigue. Gwen was no statistician, but her visible gains were far more than four to five magnitudes of the average Mage. Petra had informed Gwen that it would take her a year to advance Conjuration from tier four to five, but her cousin had not considered that Gwen was training to distract herself from life’s many dissatisfactions.

Unbeknownst to Petra, Gwen's self-imposed workaholic ethos had given her a rare kind of focus, one more suited to perhaps the Daoist isolationists of Wutang Mountain or the esoteric swordsmen of Kunlun Ranges. She left the house early for classes, took her lunch near campus, attended her afternoon classes and trained again before dinner. She repeated this schedule for five days, then relaunched herself at the training hall whenever she had a few hours to spare. When possible, to save time and entertain Mayuree, she ate together with the siblings in their loft.

Since his incident, Richard returned home most of the time, but he still worked and studied, pursuing HDMs and CCs with an enthusiasm that embarrassed even Gwen. Petra, meanwhile, returned to her research schedule with the additional burden of compiling reports on her cousin's Void metrics.

Week five—Monday, Late Afternoon

Gwen burst through the front door, launching herself at the LRC device, positioning it right in front of the couch. She glanced at the clock anxiously, then tried to meditate to pass the crawling seconds that felt like hours.

Five minutes.

Ten minutes.

Fifteen minutes.

She waited with growing agitation, her eyes staring so intently at the pin-hole projection crystal that it would have burst into flames had she possessed optical powers.

Beep.

KEEEEeeee, KUuuu-HSSSSSS.

It had come! She exalted the gods, for they were merciful and kind. Gwen pressed the glyph to accept the incoming call, then sat back.

The projection began to manifest. First, there were a few strands of glorious golden hair, a pointed chin, a dimpled pair of pink cheeks, then finally, luminous, ocean-blue eyes. As the rest of the vision materialised, it began to move.

"Elvia, " Gwen mouthed the name sweetly on her tongue. "EVEE!"

"GWEN!"

"AEEEEEEE!"

"Shaa!" Caliban joined in.

"EE! EE!” As did Ariel.

The two girls gushed as the projections on either side animated their illusory simulacrums, joined by Gwen's Familiars. Elvia looked as though time had held her intact. Her hair was longer, of course, now reaching her waist, but Gwen's golden girl was as adorable as the day she’d last seen her in Singapore.

Her heart grew sore. Gods, how I’ve missed my blue-eyed angel.

"Gwennie! You look amazing!" Her Evee’s eyes sparkled.

When they'd last separated in Singapore, Gwen had fluctuated between hale, pale and loitering almost weekly, pending on her use and abuse of her Void spells. Presently, Gwen had to admit she was in peak physical fitness, possessing a rosy complexion, bright eyes and glossy hair that hinted at an excellent mana-rich diet.

"Thanks, Evee. A lot has happened." Seeing that Elvia was in good health herself, Gwen felt an anxious weight lift from her chest. "How's the school in England? Are you making friends?"

"I am doing well." Elvia giggled. "Though there are too many classes. I've got Biology, Magitech, Clerical Studies, Pharmacology. It's endless." As she spoke, a little green sprite popped up on Elvia's shoulder and waved at the projection crystal.

"Is that Kiki?" Gwen asked.

"Kiki, say hi to Aunt Gwen." Elvia motioned to her Familiar.

Oh Lordy, I am an aunt now? Gwen reflected dejectedly. "Hi, Kiki," she said.

Kiki was the Dryad spirit Elvia had picked up from Sufina's island; an encounter that paralleled Sufina's meeting with Henry Kilroy in many ways. As with Sufina, Gwen had no doubt that should Elvia learn to treat the spirit well and allow it to grow, it would become immeasurable to her success as a Cleric. In London, Healers were a dime a dozen, but a Healer who came attuned to a Primary-Elemental Spirit of Life and Regeneration was rare indeed, regardless of their original Affinity tier.

It was an undeniable fact—during a battle, a sweeping Mass-Regeneration, a field-wide Bless, or a timely Revival on a newly-fallen Magister could quickly turn the tide of a desperate defence.

Knowing that Elvia's future was in the balance, not even she could fault Gunther's proposal to send her to London. It was the best possible outcome for her friend, despite the timid girl's feelings of loneliness and separation from friends and family.

According to Elvia, she had arrived in London by herself, then immediately became lost on her way to Nightingale College. Thankfully, the residents of London had been more than willing to come to her aid; a kind woman had shown her to the police station. The police officer had walked her to the right tramline. The conductor had led her to her stop. A few local lads in prim public-school uniforms had walked her to the college's entrance, where a porter had taken her admission letter and even transported all her luggage to her twin-share room.

But after she’d checked into the dorm, she’d had no idea how to enrol. When her new roommate had found her anxious and teary, the girl had guided her down to the administration office. The lady at the office had been so touched by Elvia's story of separation from her family that she’d taken it upon herself to ensure Elvia's smooth transition into college. When they’d passed the entrance, the office clerk had introduced Elvia to the head nun of the cafeteria and the dorm mistress.

"It was all very fascinating. I was crazy anxious," Elvia said.

Gwen nodded, marvelling at the friendliness of every single person Elvia had met. She knew that those with Positive Energy Affinity exuded an angelic aura, but what was Elvia on now? Five? Six? How could mere mortals resist such a vision of exuberant innocence? They would have been helpless before her doe-eyed onslaught.

Heedless of Gwen's gnawing jealousy, Evee continued her tale of conquest.

A few days later, Alesia's colleague, a Magus called Dominic Lorenzo, had arrived to find Elvia fully settled into her dorm life, surrounded by a small army of middle-aged ladies who’d grilled him incessantly for almost twenty minutes before he’d been allowed to speak to the "precious one". Escorted by Jenny, the overprotective lady from the front office and an incredulous Dominic, the trio had then made it to the London Tower, where Elvia had registered for membership thanks to an introductory letter from Magus Shultz, the celebrated champion of the Commonwealth. Having received all Eliva's licences, the trio had returned to the dorm, where Dominic had contacted and arranged to install the LRC device in Elvia's twin-share room.

News had then spread that Elvia had high-level backing from the Towers, further evidenced by the unheard extravagance of receiving a personal LRC device. The dorm, however, had deemed the device an inappropriate piece of equipment for a place consisting of entirely teenage girls who boarded and were understandably homesick.

After Dominic had negotiated with the college's mistress, Magister Celine Nightingale the third conceded to house device in a separate room. There had been an added caveat that anyone could use the LRC, provided they paid the HDM cost and had submitted a prior application. Also, unlike Gwen, Alesia had outright purchased the device and given it to Elvia. For Elvia to make the device publicly accessible, the mistress offered to pay her the rate of two CCs per month to allow her peers to call home.

"Mr Lorenzo is really, really good looking," Elvia said. "When he came in, all the girls were staring."

"I'll bet," Gwen urged her to continue. Who cared about some upstart Adonis? She needed more Chronicles of Elvia.

After that fiasco, Elvia's classes had started. Somehow, likely via the canteen nun, news of Elvia's life in Sydney, the terror that had befallen her, the separation from her family, her loneliness and her connection to Gunther Shultz had spread throughout the campus.

“The Instructors are very kind,” Elvia said, stating that she received the most gracious of receptions, easing her into her courses with gentle, guiding hands. Her momentary fame held such momentum, that she became the only freshmen well-known enough to be elected into the student representative council.

"Let me see your badge!” Gwen exclaimed. SRC! Elvia was already accumulating power and influence. Elvia showed her a silver badge with staff and twin serpents in the middle of the bough of an olive wreath. Elvia's name was inscribed at the bottom.

"So how was the Student Council?"

“It was scary at first…” Elvia explained. When she’d stepped, trembling and confused, into the council building. “Until I met Magus Emily Greyson Rothwell. She’s a nineteen-year-old Magus! She’s really kind as well.

Gwen could imagine scene as though living through a novel. The stunning third-year student president must have looked at Elvia's mid-tier Affinity and melted at the spectacle of the coy and demure maiden half-peeking through the hallway door with her sky-coloured eyes. "I’ve got your back. If anyone so much as touches you, I'll break them in half," the student council president would have declared, drawing the girl to her bosom.

"She has Knights at her command," Elvia said. "There are three of them serving her family, and they're all at the rank of Magus! They looked so amazing in their dress uniforms. Emily says that I'll also get Knights assigned to me if I work hard."

"What's a Knight?" Gwen asked.

Elvia said that Knights were Combat Mages from orders, assigned to high-profile healers. Many Knights would follow the same Magus or Magister for life, becoming the subject of many a young girl's fantasies. In a single-sex convent college such as the Nightingale School, the presence of Knights was enough to make the girls strive to do their very best in attaining what would one day be their partners for life.

According to Elvia, both the French Hospitallers and the English colleges had this tradition, though the Greek Acropolis school favoured an interchangeable retinue of guardians tied to the temple itself.

Gwen felt her mouth open and close as Elvia regaled episode after episode. Why was her story so incredibly heart-warming and enviable? Gwen felt that her own retelling resembled the opening chapter of Tess of d'Urbervilles while Elvia's was the latter half of Silas Marner. How unfair! In just three months, Elvia had acquired an iron-clad following of middle-aged mid-tier administration office ladies who'd ventured to hell and back for their adorable angel, the pity and loyalty of her roommate, and the full support of the SRC and its president, the darling star of Nightingale College.

God! Jehovah! Yahweh! Gwen wanted a refund. A do-over. If she were to get lost in London, she was sure the first thing she'd meet was an unmarked mystery van promising a modelling career and all she needed to do was get in. At the college, someone would probably demand to duel her at the door. If she ate at the canteen, the nun would probably kick her out for asking for thirds.

"Oh, Evee." Gwen wept bitter tears of joy as Elvia regaled her "suffering". In return, Gwen told of her trials and triumphs at the hands of the Songs and her consequent university life with Richard, Petra and Magister Wen.

Her anguish was interrupted by the entry of Petra, freshly returned from the campus.

“This must be the famous Lindholm,” Petra sat, instantly falling in love with Elvia's huggable adorability. “Goodness, you’re as charming as Gwen promised.”

“Pats!” Gwen’s face grew warm. “That was between us…”

In response to Petra's intrusion into their conversation, another face ducked into the projection—a striking punk-rocker girl with shocking pink hair and a nose stud.

"I am Elvia's roommate, Sylvie Stratford. Pleased to make your acquaintances," she said.

Then the call was finally at an end. The conference had cost Gwen almost one-tenth of her remaining funds. As much as she would have liked to continue her communication with Elvia, her friend also had limited funds. But unlike academic life in Fudan, Nightingale was a practitioner's college. As the girls trained and studied, they also received HDM-based stipends for serving in hospitals and clinics attached to the school. Unlike offensive casters who needed to expend mana continually and therefore drain crystals, the practice carried out by the girls was also a source of income. The British Mageocracy's NHS program covered their expenditure.

Finally, Elvia faded as she bid a teary temporary farewell, leaving Gwen along with Petra.

"I like her," Petra said. “So that’s your obsession? It’s good to see her finally.”

"She's my lifeline," Gwen joked half-seriously.

The girls then called out for dinner, for the week would only get busier.

Tuesday

Instructor Chen observed Gwen's command over the unruly serpent.

He had set up a gauntlet of sorts, a little maze of temptations and distractions for the Familiars. By raising and lowering the bulkhead doors, he created a kind of twisted corridor, where "rooms" awaited the students and their conjured beasts.

Some rooms had small, summoned fauna that the creatures loved to consume, testing for the ability to resist instinctual aggression. Other rooms had enticing blocks of raw mana crystals with explicit commands such as "can eat after two minutes" and "may only eat fifty percent". Other rooms had little traps that shocked, surprised or directly assaulted the Familiars.

Ariel managed to clear the rooms without incident, though its idea of fifty percent was more akin to three-quarters. To Chen's surprise, Caliban did not trigger its self-defence even when struck by half a dozen Magic Missiles. As for it eating the entire block of raw mana crystal, Chen gave Gwen a pass. One could hardly demand a creature formed of hunger and gluttony to abide entirely by human command.

Gwen's control, in his eyes, was enough.

In her other fields of study, Management moved toward statistical dissection, making an already dry course more disinteresting. Mayuree could barely open her eyes as soon as the lectures began. Gwen even caught Richard taking a catnap during a particularly dense block of agricultural data.

Picking the two subjects had been the right choice for Gwen. First, she got to know the hive cities. Dubbed "districts" under the tier-one cities, the hives were residences built with the best interests of the NoMs in mind but invariably transformed into variations of Kowloon Walled City of 1980s’ Hong Kong infamy.

A hive began as the typical sort of benign dictatorship China was famous for, constructed to house up to a hundred thousand residents, with an upper limit of one hundred and fifty thousand people. With Beast Tides in mind, the fifty-storey concrete forts served as both protection and sanctuary in the unlikely occurrence of an invasion.

The bottom of the forts was quake-proof and fortified by Earthen Glyphs, followed immediately by a level consisting of water purification systems and filtration depositories that processed the city's hygiene amenities. Above the base was the commercial sector, with food shops and dispensaries run by the state and those living within the city's walls. Above that, the street-level commerce was owned by enterprising members of the township, invariably committee members of the state, the Clans and the houses.

The hive itself stretched upward, forty levels above, where the residents’ homes were. A lottery determined where NoM families stayed. When an NoM reached the age of twenty-one, the state allocated another apartment. A typical hive city stretched from twenty blocks to fifty blocks, though the largest, located in Beijing, extended in an "L" shape for almost sixty.

However, these highly-desired spaces were at a premium. Regardless of the egalitarian ideals of a state-sanctioned hive city, wealth gaps remained painfully evident.

According to Professor Ma, those living below had barely enough space to sleep and rest, crammed into habitat blocks like sardines in a can, sleeping four to a room vertically on bunks formed out of wooden decking on bare concrete. Others nearing the mid-section had individual rooms, though usually shared them with other family members awaiting their sub-divisions. Near the top, the oligarchs of each hive city had sometimes an entire level or loft to themselves.

As with old Kowloon, a hive invariably descended into organised crime, triad rivalry, bloody feuds, district disharmony and petty theft. To enact self-governance, each district had its own "elected" secretary to oversee the running of the cities, invariably leading to meddling from the Clans, sects and ambitious free-lance Mages, not to mention PLA infighting. Yet it was the best system China could manage after the Beast Tide. Construction meant jobs and walled cities resulted in low upkeep. From the 1970s to the 1990s, China had kept on building an endless stream of hive districts, fuelling its internal consumption and employment. Over time, these cities had become filled with NoMs.

For the population living there, every family dreamed that they would generate Mage offspring that passed the state's Awakening exam. Should a family give up a potential scion talented in magic to the state, they would immediately receive an abode in the upper strata. Many families had turned their fortunes around through such means, acting as living proof of the state's generosity. But this policy had its limitations as well. Though NoM families often engendered multiple children, abject poverty and the irregularity of a Mage being born from a non-magical bloodline remained a significant deterrence to social climbing.

Thereby, to feed a burgeoning population, the state had built co-op farms across every inch of Shanghai's arable boundary to feed its hive cities. The separation of food from the cities served another purpose. A hive's reasons for killing its ruling class over perceived or real injustice were complex, but it was simple to suppress a city of one hundred thousand souls when one could cut off the water, grain and meat with a word.

The more Gwen learned about the cities, the more her horror grew. Given what she’d seen in Australia, she would far prefer the freedom and neglect of the ghettos and the slums, the shanty-suburbia of Blackheath, to Calhoun's behavioural-sink Ratopia.

Gods! To think she’d signed up for an excursion to megacity Dredd! Gwen suppressed her regret and steeled her resolve. There was no helping it—as a future Magister, she needed the first-hand experience.

After all, the Chinese had the same idiom engraved onto Fudan's stonework—read one book, and one has travelled one Li. Walk one Li, and one has read a hundred books.

Chapter twenty-seven

Fight or Flight

Week Five—Supplementary Bestiary Lesson

The junior Conjurers’ Familiars were finally tasked with a hapless Wildland summons.

Gwen had thought it cruel that Instructor Chen had arranged for creatures to be used as instructional specimens until the Master Conjurer reminded them that they couldn't make delicious Wildland omelette rice without cracking a hapless Cockatrice's innocent egg.

The idea was to combine two lessons into one. The junior Creature Mages got to learn about their pets’ strengths and weaknesses while simultaneously discovering their future enemies' physiological and biological strengths.

For Wanli the Lighting-Hawk, Chen advised on air superiority, tactical use of blindsides, and CQB, using Lightning's passive paralysis.

For Eunae, Chen informed ways Luyi could set root snares, grow barriers and platforms, and take advantage of Eunae's Positive Energy to tank damage.

Gwen made mental notes as others received their inputs. As a testament to Chen's expertise, each piece of advice was tailored to a Familiar's particularity.

When he got to Gwen, he asked first for Ariel, the model marten.

"Wang, bring in D-5!" Chen yelled at a troop of Conjurers operating the Summoning Circle.

A large and ferocious Wildland boar materialised. It immediately launched itself furiously at the shields, leaving behind white scars where the walls of force reconstituted.

"Alright, Gwen, send Ariel in."

"Ariel!" Gwen said, then coalesced her Familiar with a bolt of ionised Lightning. Ariel emerged in combat form, transforming into a six-foot silvery Mongoose equipped with two spiralled horns.

Following Chen's directions, Ariel kited the boar, gouging it with its claws, teeth and horns, slowly wearing the Earthen monstrosity down with its hasted agility.

As the battle took place, Chen watched Ariel's performance with evident satisfaction.

"You should get ready for the killing blow," he advised. "Do you have any localised AOE Lightning spells? Something volatile and explosive, midrange, with high penetrative power?"

"No, sir." Gwen explained. “Rather, I’ve been learning new spells, trying to punch through to tier four to access Wall of Fire and Blizzard.”

"Forget those wide range AOEs. My advice is that you acquire Elemental Sphere," Chen explained. "Rather than a line attack Lightning Bolt, Lightning Sphere manifests first as a swirl of energy in a dome-like sphere, not unlike a ball-cyclone with you at its eye, then explodes outwards as a short-range AOE."

"That sounds immensely useful, sir." Gwen tried to imagine the effect.

"I should think so. It's a signature spell of the late Magister Einar Larsen. He was a well-known master of the Lightning Element."

"How should I learn such a spell?" Gwen asked. "Surely one has to be well-connected."

"This isn't the Frontier. In Shanghai, you can trade thirty-six CCs for the basic spell Magister Larsen released when he passed," Chen informed her with a smirk. "I mention this because the spell is perfect for your Ariel's Evocation-channel ability. It could serve as an offensive shielding, a mid-range AOE, and a shield-breaker."

"I shall consider the recommendation, sir.” On paper, the tier four incantation fit her current needs like heels with a cocktail dress. Besides, what destructive potential could a Barbanginy Sphere bring? Just trying to envision the ultraviolence of such a spell gave her shivers.

Then there was also the Void variety, though Magister Wen had warned that all Void AOE was forbidden until her Affinity had grown beyond tier five.

While she pondered her future, the gladiatorial battle in the cage had come to an end. The boar was on its last legs.

"EEEeeee! Eee! SQEEEeee!" Ariel penetrated the boar's flanks.

"Lightning Bolt!" Gwen channelled her Evocation staple and watched the boar glow with cobalt-green plasma. The blast flung the pig-beast against the force barrier until it was medium rare and smoking from both eye sockets.

"Wonderful." Chen clapped. "Excellent work."

Caliban was next.

"Wang, B-7!"

The next monster materialised—a giant hyena the size of a horse. Startlingly, a stench of putrid decay permeated the floor.

"Mao!" The junior Mages wrinkled their nose.

"Wocao! What is that thing?"

"Is it Undead?"

"It's a Corpse-fed!"

A Corpse-fed hyena. Gwen had read about such creatures. In the north where the Undead gathered, the fauna had mutated to become capable of feeding off the necrotic energies seeping from the tombs. Predators that had once hunted live prey now hunted the dead—becoming fearsome carrion-carnivores capable of carrying plagues, devouring decay, and growing stronger by killing and consuming higher-level Undead.

She wasn't sure why there was a hyena in Asia-Major, but that hardly mattered now. Chen had prepared something incredibly formidable for Caliban. If it had been Ariel, its Lightning would have naturally suppressed the Necrotic Energy, but Gwen honestly had no idea with Caliban. It wasn't as though she'd fought demi-undead before.

Chen indicated for Gwen to proceed. "I can banish it at a moment's notice. Not to worry," he informed her. "Send in your pet. It should be immune to Vitality Drain anyway."

The advice was news to Gwen. She warily regarded the prowling fiend, even now seeking a weakness in the force barrier to escape its fate. In her eyes, the monster looked strong. Thanks to its necrotic blessing, it was likely incredibly resilient to injury and therefore she chose agility and haste.

"Caliban!" Gwen called for her Familiar to manifest within the arena, bypassing her Sustenance limiter. "Spider form!"

When Caliban leapt from the slit between the Material and the Void, it was in its multi-legged form. Gwen had come to understand that as long as she willed a particular form, it was possible to coax Caliban to follow suit. Petra had pointed out that a creature with five pairs of legs, pincers and a tail should belong to the Order Scorpiones but Gwen preferred spider, as the origin of Caliban's morphic shape had been a big Wanka.

Gwen circulated a chunk of Druidic Vitality into herself as her Familiar took its pound of flesh, empowering Caliban with supernatural haste and a fierce desire for destruction. As it became pumped full of Void-rich mana, the observing crowd reeled from the induced nausea.

"Onslaught!" Gwen mouthed soundlessly.

"SCREEEEeeeee!" Her spider launched itself like a bolt of black lightning. The hyena appeared first intimidated by a creature like Caliban, but its wariness vaporised as Caliban made its intentions clear. Sidestepping expertly, it extended its elongated neck with the agility of a viper and attempted to catch one of Caliban's foreclaws.

"Jump!" Chen commanded.

Gwen willed Caliban to change its trajectory by leaping over the war dog.

"Tail Spear!" Chen directed.

The hyena missed its first bite as Caliban, too quick for the horse-sized dog, kicked off the force wall and stabbed it on the upper flank with its barbed tail, sending out a mist of dark ichor as a chunk of necrotic flesh came away.

"Oh, MAO!"

"Bleargh!"

A few of the student Conjurers fell before the odious assault. Eunae buried her face into Luyi's flank while her doe quivered defiantly against the fiendish terror, protecting its mistress.

The hyena snapped at Caliban and caught a limb in its maw, crushing it effortlessly. However, the loss of a limb had no impact on a creature without nerves or organs like Caliban. Gwen's spider fiend then fell upon the yelping, hapless dog with the ferocity of a combine-harvester.

"Do it!"

"O-Onslaught!" Gwen gave the command while gagging.

A forelimb struck, then another and another and another, until its three pairs of appendages became a blur. The corpse-eating dog instantly became a spray of vivisected flesh.

"WOCAONIMA!"

"Cao, BLEARGH!"

"Garrgh!"

"Oh, G—"

An odour of rot flooded the room and all the gathered Mages, Gwen included, began to deposit their meals onto the floor. The stench was indefinable—something between fetid death and faecal matter, half-digested flesh mixed with the smell of pus and gangrene. Only Chen stood without so much as wrinkling his nose.

The hyena disappeared in a burst of silver-white energy. The Wall of Force went down. The vents powered up.

"What are you—" someone cried out in alarm.

Caliban clattered forth, covered in pieces of necrotic carrion, its carapace a snail sheen of foul fat and decomposing excrement.

"Take it all in!" Chen laughed at the students fleeing the scene but trapped by the bulkheads. Even Gwen was on her knees, regretting her last breath of air. Eunae buried her face so far into Luyi it looked as though the Korean Cleric had melded with her fawn face-first. "That's the scent of the Northern Front. Learn to love it, for that's the aroma of an Undead battlefield. Let this be a lesson."

"Shaa!" Caliban moved for its mistress. With a yelp and a gag, Gwen dismissed it in an instant.

Gwen fell into a terrible illness the same evening, but according to Magister Wen, that was pathologically impossible so long as she had Druidic Essences circulating her body. For all intents and purposes, her body was immune to mundane infections and fatal diseases—for Gwen to be stricken, the pathogen would have to be magical or genuinely virulent.

All she could do then was bath herself in lavender-scented bathwater in an attempt to disguise the phantom stench. The damned odour was so intense she couldn't even stomach the thought of summoning Caliban, despite bathing it with magic.

That night, she slept fitfully, unable to persuade her brain that she wasn't wrapped in a blanket of dead rats decaying in the mattress.

The next day, Gwen decided to invest in a new signature spell.

After consulting with Petra and Magister Wen, it was agreed that thirty-six CCs for the tier four Elemental Sphere was a viable option for her Evocation development. She would struggle with the complexity until she reached the expertise necessary to use the spell in combat but could use the struggle to mill out the proficiency of her Evocation Sigil.

As promised, the acquisition was straightforward.

A trip to the second of the Fudan Towers gave her a script. A visit to the reserved section of Fudan University Library was all it took for her to return with an inscribed scroll. The manuscript was attuned to herself like a magic item, requiring her mana signature to be read. She also received a script exchangeable with an instructor for a private lesson. After taking stock of her receipts, she was left with ninety-four CCs.

"What do people do about plagiarism? Or piracy?" Gwen asked Petra when they met for lunch.

"Piracy?" Petra chuckled. "What does this have to do with robbery on the high seas?"

Realising she had used a Gwenism, she opted for a less abstract vernacular. "Like, what if I wanted to teach you this spell?"

"You could try." Petra grinned dangerously. "Though it's against the academic etiquette."

"What's the damage?"

"Penalty from the Tower, ire from other Mages, ex-communication from your Clan or house. It is serious enough to make you a public pariah. Learning public domain spells with CCs is far more convenient than trying to thieve them. Through the Tower, your acquisitions are sanctioned and safe; your mastery publicly acknowledged. If one day, you're willing to give up a signature spell of your own to the public domain as the progenitor, you or your estate will receive CCs every time someone learns it."

Excommunication! Gwen pondered the severity of such a thing. The rewards for obeying the rules far outweighed the benefits of illicit learning. She supposed such a system was sufficiently robust, for it wasn't as though roguish Mages living in the Wildlands bothered with Tower etiquette, nor would a Clan or sect give up its secrets to anyone but an inheriting member.

"I understand." Gwen played with her storage ring contemplatively. "I'll be down at the training hall if anyone asks."

It took another three nights for the illusory stench of the Corpse-fed hyena to fade from Gwen's consciousness. In the meanwhile, in preparation for her excursion to Districts 108 and 35, Magister Wen recommended she take her new items, the Chameleon Cloak and her Boots of Flying, to the training hall and book a session with the field instructors there.

"Why? Is the excursion not a sightseeing tour?" Gwen asked.

Magister Wen gave her a secretive smile. "Professor Ma will keep it interesting for you young Mages. There's nothing better than a dose of reality to get the Management students invested in the course."

Looking at Wen, Gwen remembered when Mark Chandler had sent her into Blackheath. At first, she’d imagined that her Master's old Diviner war buddy had also been testing her, teasing her with the reality of poverty and circumstance the NoMs faced. But it had all been a ruse to gather evidence for his hypothesis against her Master, Henry Kilroy. Hopefully, this time, with a whole university backing her, her misadventure wouldn't deviate too much from the scheduled tour.

The PLA, perhaps mindful of their limited influence in Fudan, had assigned military instructors to the training hall, who students could employ. Many of the instructors were surviving Mages from Frontier conflicts who could no longer return but whose experience was too precious to be wasted.

Gwen fell under the tutelage of a flight Mage named Staff-Sergeant Bao Yan, a clean-cut, middle-aged veteran missing a hand and with a prosthetic leg. With patience, she informed him that she was in the process of learning her Utilitarian Flight spell but had an excursion to the NoM Districts in a week or so.

"That's fine. You'll be knotting the air in no time." The instructor smirked. "Let's see your form."

Gwen first ensured her tunic was adequately fastened; she had yet to purchase her wardrobe for Flight and would like to avoid a Marilyn Monroe situation. Her second situation was that her second-hand Boots of Flying had to be worn against her skin.

Alesia's vintage training boots spoke volumes about the sorceress's intrepid teenage years. When Gwen had first tried them on, the thigh-high leather had pulled just above her knees and had ridden three inches up her thigh. As a mid-tier magic item of rare scarcity from the nineties, the boots were not enchanted to conform. They remained serviceable only because Gwen and her sister-in-craft were physiologically alike. They were double-laced to allow for significant expansion and contraction, hugging one's thighs with the snugness of a corset.

As a pairing, shorts were out of the question, so she settled on a "skort", a pair of skirt-cum-shorts with ample coverage, ensuring unity of ergonomic mobility and aesthetic modesty. For her upper body, she chose the Chameleon Cloak. From above, she was invisible, as she was if she crouched and folded her legs in the foetal position. However, from the side, she knew she resembled a free-floating face resting above a pair of leggy, laced leather boots.

"You're not going to need that in an urban space. Register and apply for a full Optic-Camo cloak with CCs if you want to be discreet," Lian advised. "Though you’d better not get caught by the Tower's arbitrators or the MSS if you're using it inside the city."

"How useful is Opti-Camo?" Gwen enquired. Her Familiars were far from subtle.

Lian snorted. "Extremely! It's life or death out there in the Wildlands. First strike means winning or losing. Do you think Optic-Camo grows on trees? Mao knows how you even got your hands on one. You from an old military family or what?"

"Something like that," Gwen said.

"You’d better take care of it, girl. Not many of those are left in civilian hands."

Gwen carefully folded the cloak and stored it in her ring.

"Your pets going to be a problem?" The instructor pointed a thumb at Caliban and Ariel.

"They'll be fine so long as they're unmolested, sir," Gwen answered. "They're tagged to my bangle."

The instructor's attitude brightened considerably after noting her collection of rare items. There were three rings on her fingers—two gemstone rings with enchantments accompanied by a nondescript copper band. Gwen supposed that her instructor thought she was from a wealthy family.

"You a Clanner? You look like a young lady."

"I am…" Gwen thought about her answer, then replied cryptically, "connected."

"I'll say," her teacher replied thoughtfully. "Let's begin with levitation exercises. What's the crystal consumption rate on the boots?"

"It's a user model." Gwen kicked with one foot and rose an inch into the air, wobbling as she balanced.

"Not bad; a classic archetype." The instructor nodded and activated his Flight incantation, lifting into the air. Gwen noticed the man's prosthetics dangled loosely. "Make a danger sign when you're about to OoM."

"Yes sir," Gwen replied.

Unlike the Mage-trained Flight spell, the lift provided by the boots had capped agility and velocity. Transmutation Mages who specialised in Flight, especially Mages attuned to Elemental Air, could move at four to five times the pace and coordination of Mages not attuned to Transmutation. Given time and training, the Air-affiliated Gwen could arguably fly faster and more proficiently than even Alesia, but that would take many years. It was also why the dual-elementalist Kitty was deemed a prodigy. Given time to grow, her Affinity with Air and Ice, Evocation and Transmutation would make her an elemental terror, the crème de la crème of the Aerial Battle Mage regiment, a Valkyrie controller of the battlefield.

The instructor indicated two illusory markers in bright orange overhead. "Do not venture past the training zone. Shanghai is a no-fly. We'll be making basic zig-zags on a two-dimensional plane, then move onto vertical climbs."

"Yes sir."

Instructor Lian led the way as Gwen followed unsteadily. The grace of moving in three dimensions had little to do with an individual's natural agility, and all she could do was try to acclimatise herself while battling the constant nausea of vertigo.

Week Six, University Mid-Term

Mid-terms meant exams, excursions and exercises, after which was the week seven mid-term break.

Gwen had practicals for Conjuration and Evocation, a written exam for Economics, then the excursion with James Ma's Management course. During their Thursday lecture, Ma mentioned that sixty-four individuals would be participating across seven districts, meaning the students could arrange their groups and sub-groups as they pleased, down to a minimum of two individuals. District 35 would entertain the lot of them, while their subsequent visit to Districts 108 to 114 would only take up to five Mages per zone.

Naturally, her group would at best consist of Richard, Mayuree, Kitty and herself.

Well, I'll be damned. Gwen thought about Wen's helpful foreshadowing. She could hardly wait for their first outing, not to mention her first visit to an NoM hive city in a tier-one capital. She had done slum tours in her old world before, what they called the Grand Snobbery. Would the hives be like the Rocinha Favela before the World Cup? Or perhaps the industrious gutter slums of Mumbai? Could it exceed the time she’d been in Khayelitsha, laying over on the way to a two-week safari?

Her anticipation grew hot, but first, she had her practical exams.

Conjuration took place underneath the arena, where Gwen had her Bestiary classes. Within, students demonstrated their proficiency in Combat, Translocation, and Conjure Object.

Combat was simple enough. Students could choose to square off against summoned monsters, instructors or each other. With her pets, Gwen was confident she could take a tier five to six creature without incident.

Transportation involved moving cubes of cargo, ranging from fragile crystal to a slab of lead, from one end of the enormous stadium to another by attuning with pre-inscribed Teleportation portals. Several of the talented students could draw a Teleportation Circle at tier five and could thus opt to use their personalised mandala array. Gwen lacked that, meaning she had to use a pre-prepared one.

Finally, Conjure Object was an exercise in which items stored in a pocket dimension had to be conjured onto a platform by the students. It was a simple cantrip that any Mage in possession of a storage ring used, though the variability of mana grew exponentially with heavier, larger and denser objects.

Despite the simplicity of the exams, Gwen felt an oppressive unease as she walked among the crowd. She felt a tingle in the spine that warned her of crisis, but she had anticipated that. She was, after all, there to demonstrate her prowess, and there were immutable risks in combat that went beyond skill and expertise.

Standing almost half a head taller than the crowd in her pump combat boots, she scanned the crowd, wondering why there was an uncomfortable feeling that she was being intently watched.

"I think she sees us," Lulan Li murmured to her dearest elder brother, the corner of her lip curling belligerently as she observed the Void Sorceress scanning the room. Seeing Gwen Song's absurdly tall figure was pissing her off even from this distance. She had wanted to challenge and beat down the skanky foreigner for weeks now, but each time, her eldest brother had stood in her way.

"You're a second year," he told her. "What would people think of our Clan? What would people think of me if you had to save my face in my stead?"

Lulan puffed her cheeks churlishly. Of course, big brother Kusu was right, but Lulan wouldn't have minded if she took on that burden. If anyone dared to call Kusu a soft rice eater, she would break every bone in their body.

The girl's eyes scanned toward them.

"There, she just saw me!" Lulan exclaimed excitedly.

"Steady now. You don't want to frighten our prey," Kusu replied.

"She's strong," Hui, her Clan brother, gifted in Divination, whispered back in hushed tones. "Are you sure we should be doing this? What about her backers?"

"Of course," Lulan snapped, the pressure of her mana was making her brother uncomfortable. She was his younger sister, but she was more powerful by magnitudes. "This upstart has had her day for too long. We've left her alone until now, but as I said, I have it on good authority that she's no longer an inheriting part of Song. Their patriarch couldn't care less about her. Hee-hee, we're probably doing the old man a favour."

"Still, don't underestimate an LCSS candidate. She did get the full scholarship.” Hui reminded them.

"She got in because of her connections!" Lulan seethed at her middle brother. "You think big-brother Kusu would lose his full scholarship to a back-door customer like her? We'll have her know she's dug her own grave."

“Cool it, both of you," Kusu said. "It's starting. I am going to announce my challenge."

"Alright, big brother, you show that Guan-er-dai the power of someone who isn't sitting in the dean's lap."

Lulan felt her heart soar. Finally, it was time to vindicate the shame of her most talented eldest brother losing his full scholarship to some green-eyed hussy from the Frontier.

Gwen's eyes passed over the familiar faces of a group of Mages with faces so similar that they were unmistakably related. One of them, the girl, glared at her with a hunger that was palpable from across the room.

The eldest stepped forward. Instantly, her heart sank.

"HALT! I declare a spar against the acolyte Gwen Song!"

Her silence answered the challenge.

Besides her, Gwen's Conjuration cohort parted, revealing to everyone the Clan Mages who'd ambushed and mocked her outside the training hall weeks prior. She’d avoided them since. The way they presented themselves looked as though they wouldn’t take no for an answer and Gwen wondered if refusing would make matters worse.

She considered her present condition. It was better that they called her out now rather than in the privacy of her training sessions. As long as they fought in public, Gwen felt she could handle them.

The young man who stepped forward was a little shorter than her with a sharply chiselled face that would have been cruel but for his bright and intelligent eyes. He wasn't a mean-looking sort. Instead, the man possessed a bookish, scholarly charm.

"I, Kusu Li of the Huashan Sect, wish to challenge Gwen Song of the House of Song to a duel," The young man declared formally, then bowed. "Please accept my duel."

As expected, he was a Clanner. Gwen felt ambivalent about his challenge. It wasn't good to get involved with the Clans, nor was it good to ignore them.

"Do you accept, Gwen Song?" he repeated, raising his head.

Beside Gwen, her Familiars began to hiss and growl menacingly. Her Mongolian Death Worm opened its carapace and lashed out with pink-and-cobalt tentacles while her marten struck out its tongue rudely.

Gwen weighed her options. There was no shame in being pragmatic with one's enemies. As with Dai Fung, she needed more HDMs to offset her LRM projector costs.

To fight, or not to fight? To profit?

Humans died for riches and birds risked beaks and claws for feed. Who wouldn't risk life and limb for more time to chum with Evee?

Chapter twenty-eight

The Wrong Way to Duel

Magister Birch furrowed his brows from his side of the lecture podium, then looked toward Gwen Song for an answer. The challenge was valid, but the girl was well within her rights to decline. The etiquette was to accept regardless of one's chances of victory—that was the pride of possessing courage, or at least respect, for walking one's path of Spellcraft.

What worried the Magister was that an accident, especially one that would mar the girl's health, would come back to haunt him. She was Wen's precious specimen, Dean Luo's prized pitbull and Klavdiya's darling. Should the hammer of blame come down, it wouldn't care about the truth, only that he’d been neglectful in protecting the collective benefit brought by the Void sorceress.

As for the challenger, Birch was confident enough in the Huashan Sect's skill to acknowledge that they had sufficient means for their champion to defeat Gwen Song even at her best.

So the question remained, should he intervene? He knew that stopping the match would be the safest course of action but Birch felt that having the granddaughter of Guo Song taught a lesson wasn't a displeasing prospect. With his ability, the girl should be perfectly safe.

Therefore, he would bequeath her the privilege of answering for herself and see if she was as good as Lou touted her to be.

A few rows from the aggrandising Kusu, the owner of Wanli, Lu, was also at a crossroad. If Dai's object of desire became humiliated by this upstart from the rural province of Huashan, it would surely ruin his elder brother's sport. Yet, he couldn't step in, for intervening would countermand Dai's orders to leave Gwen Song alone.

As Lu hesitated, the opportunity passed him by, for the girl had designs of her own. "I accept," she replied with nonchalance. "But not without condition."

"State your condition," Kusu remained diplomatic, though Lu could see his sister seething beside the mild-mannered Sword Mage.

"Promise me that you will leave me alone when you lose and that you and your Clan will not bother me incessantly. I lack the leisure to entertain sore losers."

The gathered crowd of Conjurers sucked in a collective breath of cold air. The solemnity was held for several fragile seconds, then someone broke the tension by laughing loudly. Lu almost burst out in laughter himself. The Mao-bespoken confidence of the girl!

"You'll regret that," Kusu said, his face reddening.

"Watch your tongue, Shabī!" Kusu's psychotic sister snapped like a hound.

Lu watched Gwen Song exhale with exaggeration. What was her plan? Piss off her opponents? Make them lose their cool? Then what?

"Care for a wager?"

"My life—" Kusu began in the typical formalism of the old sects.

"Nothing so serious. I mean this." Gwen Song produced ten currency cards that amounted to just over a thousand HDMs. "A little show of confidence. There has to be something for me to gain, you know. I can't fight unmotivated. You win, I'll be humiliated for no reason. I win, I gain nothing. It's hardly fair."

A murmur of disbelief radiated from the centre of the crowd.

Mao! She's in for it now. Lu felt himself shaking with schadenfreude. These bumpkin rural Clanners fought duels with the same passion they fought for the honour of their mothers and Gwen Song had just offered to whore Kusu's mother for a thousand lousy HDMs. Prizefighting? What gave the girl the idea that Clanners would sully a duel with money? It was such a western way of thinking!

Kusu's face said it all.

It was hilarious to Lu that both sides lacked an understanding of their stakes. The correct thing for Gwen to do was to get a friend or an ally to act on her behalf, not to insult her opponent to his face. As for Kusu, he should have anticipated the westerner's divergent values.

That’s the problem with bumpkins from the Frontiers. Lu shook his head in wonder, then through the crowd for a better look. To his surprise, Magister Birch was going through the rules of the duel. "Conjuration spells only. First to Shield Break. Respect your opponents. No attacking after forfeiture or you will receive an academic warning. Gwen, you will have to conjure your Familiars when combat begins."

Gwen Song nodded, then dismissed her Familiars.

The shields went up. The crowd then relocated around the tennis-sized open space.

"Ready?" Birch ordered Gwen and Kusu into separate mandala arrays.

The first order of business was for the Mages to move via Teleportation Circles into the arena without disorientation. If the Acolytes could not even handle that, then they deserved the trashing that followed.

"Begin!"

Two bursts of silvery Conjuration appeared outside and inside the arena simultaneously, signalling the expedient entry of both contestants into the field.

The Void Sorceress appeared half a second faster than her opponent and Conjured a pulsating white-blue crystal right where he was still manifesting. As Kusu appeared, a thin shield of semi-transparent ochre immediately went up as the Flashbang exploded, rocking the interior of the battlefield with a muffled thump.

"You're too predictable," Kusu snarled, then with one fluid gesture, the Sword Mage made his move. "Dagger Swarm!"

As far as Lu knew, the Huashan Clan had been a sword-saint sect during the Song Dynasty. Much of their secret art had been lost to the fall of Southern Song after the rise of the Yuan Centaurs, with all their Grandmasters and Masters dying in a single battle to protect the mount from the foreign invaders. To survive, they’d amalgamated old manuscripts with Spellcraft theory from the west, forming an original style of magic that utilised physical objects and Daoist arcanistry.

The daggers summoned by Kusu were miniature flying swords inscribed with secret incantations. Lu watched as the implements swirled around the young man like a flock of furious quicksilver swallows. How would Gwen Song counter?

He received his answer in the form of a signature Dimension Door that erupted in a burst of Void-ink, as though someone had violently landed in a puddle of tenebrous fluid. The resulting splash consumed a dozen or so of the blades from the swarm of a hundred, visibly reducing the volume of Kusu's implements.

The Void Sorceress then appeared, as expected, behind the Huashan Mage.

Not good, Lu thought. She was too predictable. If even Lu could anticipate such a cliched move, his rival from another sect would be equally apt. Combat was everything to a Clanner, their lifeblood and doctrine, and sparring was a fact of everyday training.

No sooner had Gwen appeared than another spell manifested from Kusu, this time an iron web. It wasn't a magical web, but a physical set of balls and chains inscribed with the same magic.

He looked toward Magister Birch to see if the Adjudicator objected to the use of physical objects conjured from pocket dimensions. Birch's expression remained impassive.

"Caliban!" Gwen Song incanted. The slit of space between the Void and the Material Plane cleanly sliced the iron-mesh netting in two as her creature began its ascension into the material world.

Despite the unexpected destruction of his snare, her opponent had clearly been waiting for her to summon Caliban. Kusu responded by redirecting the Dagger Swarm to corner caster and Familiar. With a gesture, a rain of daggers pelted down, pinging off Gwen's Shield and gouging chunks from an enraged, semi-formed Caliban.

Excellent play! He’d placed Gwen in a terrible defensive position while he was well-provisioned to respond with an offence, defence or evasion. Meanwhile, the Dagger Swarm continued, leaving white streaks of impact marks all over the Void sorceress' semi-dome Shield.

A few seconds passed. The daggers returned for a second round yet the shield remained.

Abjuration! Lu felt his chest tighten with the affirmation of Dai's data. It was true! The girl was versed in multiple Schools of Magic! Of all the Schools of Magic, only Abjuration was unique in the strength of its shields. If Gwen had been solely a Conjurer-Evoker of Quasi-Elemental Lightning and Void, her shield would have cracked after the first few seconds.

"Pin him down!" Lu heard Gwen cry out, her face reddening with intensifying battle lust. The girl was beginning to take this seriously as well. "Caliban, onslaught!"

Finally, the netherworld scorpioid slipped onto the battlefield. It immediately skittered on spindly legs from a canter to a trot, launching itself toward Kusu with the momentum of a runaway harvester.

"Guard!" Kusu fell back, sheltered by a defensive formation of daggers forming a shimmering steel wall. "Misty Step!" The Swordsmen disappeared.

"Dimension Door!"

Both Mages had chosen evasion rather than defence. Gwen Song appeared just behind the dagger wall, while Kusu's signature version of Dimension Door materialised the Huashan Mage where she had stood. The girl, however, once more consumed about one-tenth of Kusu's dagger with her Void matter. Kusu swore and retracted a portion of his Dagger Swarm, using the mass of metal as a defensive barrier to repeal the monster leaping, bounding, screeching and slithering after him like a mad thing.

On the far side of the court, Gwen Song began to empower a complex Conjuration incantation.

Whoa! Lu applauded internally. So that's how she's going to play it. Kusu was the more experienced tactician here and the girl had frequently stepped into his anticipatory retaliation. If so, then she would counter by remaining still.

"Misty Step!"

Sensing Gwen's terrific gathering of Lightning, Kusu risked direct assault from Caliban and teleported in a direct line through the creature, gambling on the fact that the Void beast could not tap into the Ethereal Plane.

"Petal Burst!" The ball of daggers exploded.

Kusu's gambit proved sound, and he emerged a safe distance away from Caliban, yet close enough to Gwen to let loose with a terrific hail of daggers. The girl's silhouette became swallowed by a cloud of hacking, flying and stabbing blades, pinging off her shield and making the frontal semi-sphere opaque. Could her shield hold out? Could she finishing her slippery opponent with artillery?

Unfortunately for Kusu, Gwen Song emerged unscathed. Her shield healed itself rapidly, each opaque impact point returning to translucence.

Lu’s heart raced. Kusu must be shitting himself. How was it possible that the girl was still holding up? How thick was that barrier? She hadn't cheated and cast a dome-shaped Wall of Force, had she? What else was the girl hiding?

"Summon lesser elemental!" The Void Sorceress finished her spell. It had taken her almost ten seconds, but she had finally connected the sigil with its elaborate incantations, opening up a gateway to the Quasi-Elemental Plane of Lightning.

"Shit!" Kusu said. The man's Dagger Swarm formed a rotating wall of flying steel that warded him on all sides. The desperate Mage's only chance of victory lay in piercing Gwen's shield in the next few seconds.

But will Gwen Song give the Huashan Mage that chance? Lu tried to anticipate the next moment. The girl's shield proved monstrous, almost as absurd as her Void critter.

The auditorium began to glow, her scarabs materialising rapidly. The tiny Elementals first manifested as motes of glowing azure. They filled the chamber by twos and threes, then dozens, then hundreds, each hysterical and hungry for a target.

"Pierce!"

Sensing his imminent demise, Kusu forsook his barrier and forced his remaining daggers into a piercing cone. An eye-blink later, the cone launched itself with terrific force toward Gwen Song, becoming a shrieking vortex of grinding steel that penetrated the scarab swarm with impunity.

Brilliant move! The crowd launched into scattered applause amidst cries of surprise and dismay, and Lu joined them. It was a strategically savvy move that followed the Thirty-Six Tactics. Attack where your enemy must save and your offensive becomes defence itself! Gwen Song had to remain still while channelling her Elemental swarm, meaning she had to halt her attack and change to Dimension Door. She would soon be out of mana if she chose to shield and channel, so overall, Kusu should be in an excellent position to win.

At any rate, Lu glanced at Magister Birch, whose eyes flared with silvery Conjuration. The old fogie was ready to move one or the other out of harm's way.

"Caliban!" The Void Sorceress sent her Void Familiar to stand in her stead. The scorpion reared itself, supported by a host of hind legs, revealing a second mouth below its cephalothorax.

A wave of revulsion spread through the crowd as the thing hissed and made that horrendous "Shaa!" Its form grew denser with Void matter. Not even Lu, whose element countered the Negative Plane, was exempt from the aura of existential vertigo expanding from Caliban.

"Consume!"

Lu's mouth opened in sync with Caliban's.

Impossibly, the Void beast's second mouth unhinged itself with the effect of tearing itself apart. With a single gulp, it took the lion's share of the daggers, blade and hilt and all, then… nothing. The rest of the daggers clattered to the floor.

By then, the scarabs had converged on Kusu and the burst of brilliance was so bright it smote the walls with blinding electricity.

Lu couldn't blame Magister Birch for not jumping in. He couldn't convince himself to teleport into a swarm of Lightning Scarabs either. Usually, two to three hundred was the limit. Just how much mana did Gwen Song put into a single summon?

"Gwen Song wins," Birch announced.

The electrical hysteria of the flight of the Lightning Scarabs faded. Kusu was unconscious on the ground, convulsing all over. Gwen stood with Caliban unsummoned, her chest rising and falling thanks to the exertion of Caliban's expectedly utilitarian Consume.

"Kusu!"

"Big brother!"

Kusu's siblings, the foul-mouthed sister and a middle brother leapt onto the stage with potions and restoratives. When they’d concluded that Kusu was merely momentarily stunned and knocked out, they turned upon Gwen.

"Dead bitch!" the girl cursed, sending out a pulse of powerful Earthen mana so palpable that Lu could've sworn the anti-magic tiles clattered. "I’m going to make this as painful as possible."

Here we go! This time, Lu was determined to seize the moment. He pushed himself from the crowd before Birch could tell the offending sister to stand down and leapt upon the stage.

"Shut your mouth! You shame the Clans with your rudeness!" Lu Fung, fourth in line to the Nantong Clan of Fung, arrived stage-left. "Have some humility, woman. Your brother Kusu lost and that's no one's fault but his own. Go perfect your art instead of mewling like a loser!"

Lu's appearance caused a stir in the crowd as extraordinary as Gwen's defeat of the Huashan Mage. His fellows knew that he wasn't some hot-blooded youth standing up for a pretty girl but a preeminent Clan making its position known. The Fung Patriarch—Shen Fung—sat atop the Shanghai Security Council like a land deity. If need be, and if the Huashan bumpkins' chose to disagree with the Fungs, he could potentially have the lot of them evicted from the city.

To his pleasure, Lulan Li's face paled as soon as Lu castigated them. Then, against his expectations, the girl's face changed into one of simmering scarlet rage.

"Brother Lu," she said quietly, dangerously, "please stand aside."

How insolent! Lu was about to make a disparaging remark to inform her of her place when Kusu intervened. However, his gut-instinct suggested he should get the fuck out of her way.

"Brother Lu, forgive Lulan. She's still young."

The defeated Kusu, who had regained his consciousness, fell to one knee and held his head downward in a show of compliance. "Lulan, get down."

"Big brother!" A wave of teeth-chattering mana radiated from the girl.

"Lulan, please. Listen to Brother Lu Fung." Kusu dragged his sister down to his height until they were both on one knee.

Lu, meanwhile, recovered from the bucket of cold water that had been poured over his head, recalling the rumours. Lulan Li of Huashan! An iron-blooded battle maniac. The one who succeeded in forcibly practising her Clan's forbidden arts! Thank Mao for his stature as the inheriting disciple of the Fung Clan. Any other challenger would have been mopping their guts off the arena floor by now.

"It's alright, Brother Kusu. Lulan wants what's best for you. I understand." Lu Fung measured his words and spoke carefully, assuming the tone of a wise and benevolent elder Clan brother. "The both of you, please stand. There is no shame in this defeat. You can try again next time. I am sure you will both grow from this experience. Kusu, you fought well…"

Gwen felt the colour returning to her face.

Thanks to their weekly feeding of Caliban, she could now sustain mid-tier Void spells without danger to herself. Yet, even as Lu made her opponents genuflect, her Divination Sigil felt like a nail had scraped across her spine.

She turned to face Lu, who nodded at her confidently with the look of someone feeling the satisfaction of a mission accomplished. When she glanced at the girl on the floor, however, she felt such malice rippling from the sorceress that her aura distorted the symmetry of the anti-magic tiles.

Kusu rose, bowed deeply then produced one thousand HDM crystals in assorted currency cards. From the looks of the loot, it appeared the Huashan Sect was not one known for wealth.

"Your spoils, Miss Song. Thank you for the instruction," the young man spoke politely.

Gwen forced a smile to her face and nodded at Kusu, thanking him. Despite the danger she felt from the sister, she took the money.

From below the brother, a pair of eyes the colour of shiraz burned with a hatred that made Gwen's skin crawl. She didn't need her nail-on-blackboard premonition to tell that she’d just stepped into a pile of proverbial horseshit up to her thighs. Whatever this was, it was not over by far.

Goddamn it. She thought of Elvia's Nightingale College tour de comfort. Why me?

Chapter twenty-nine

Indigestion

Louis Birch gave Gwen a grade of A and told her she needn't attempt the other exercises. Instead, he sent her away to the infirmary under the supervision of the unexpectedly helpful Lu Fung. He wasn't exactly sure what business the junior Conjurer had, but his jurisdiction ended at the lecture hall's entrance.

Now that the fight had concluded, Birch could see it had been a wise decision not to intervene. What foresight, he thought. As expected, Gwen Song was trouble personified.

"Kusu, are you alright?" Birch turned to the other party, assuming the role of a caring mentor. He wasn't worried about Kusu's health; the young man's pride was more wounded than his body. He was more concerned about what may come. That Lulan Li…

"I feel fine, sir," Kusu's said.

"Good. And Kusu?"

"Yes sir?"

Birch leaned in closer. "Maybe keep a tight leash on your sister. I've dealt with her enough in second year to know what she's thinking—or not thinking, as it were. You and I both know foresight is not her forte."

His student acknowledged his advice with a bow.

Lulan Li. Magister Birch sighed as he withdrew. Another troublemaker. The younger girl was hailed as a genius of the Earthen arts. At fifteen, she’d entered Fudan and progressed almost exclusively through questing credits until reaching her second-year specialisation. The girl had been initially slated for an LCSS placement, but after what she’d done to her opponent…

For a non-combat instructor like Birch, there were good reasons why Lulan Li usually had her lessons away from Shanghai. Then again, he mused, maybe Gwen and Lulan deserved each other, like fighting fire with fire.

Despite the well-fought match, it wasn't hard for Birch to imagine that Lulan felt Gwen had cheated. After all, what kind of Conjurer-Evoker had an Abjuration Shield? Not to mention that Gwen's shield was more robust than an Abjurer's of the same tier. Then there was her Familiar's ability to consume Kusu's implements without dying. How was her brother supposed to fight that?

Having taught both, he knew a little of their circumstances. Kusu wasn't an inheriting disciple of the main branch but had every ambition to make it to the top. The boy was gifted, but his sister was one of a kind, and therein lay the trouble.

Birch fantasised about intervening, then stopped. It would take someone far better connected than he to ensure the incident didn’t blow out of proportion. Who the hell thought it was a good idea to rile the Clanners up? Maybe he should visit Klavdiya. He would love nothing more than to see her again, not the imperfect facsimile that was her granddaughter, but the perfection of her face, all the richer for the passage of years.

"I’m fine." Gwen was still thinking of Lulan Li as she spoke, recalling that the girl had looked like she wanted to drink her blood then and there.

"If you're sure." Lu stepped away from her politely, keeping a respectful distance as she sat on the infirmary's white bedding.

"I've still got Evocation Practicals. I just need an hour's meditation, that's all."

"I'll speak to Magus Young if you like," Lu offered kindly.

Gwen shook her head. Clanners being nice to her? That itself was enough to send her packing. "Thank you, Lu. You've done enough for me."

The Fung member had insisted on escorting her to the infirmary east of the campus. For a Clanner who was usually aloof and utterly neglectful of her presence, the Spirit Conjurer had behaved like one of those smitten men in inane idol dramas, making her doubly nervous.

After Lu left, she double-checked her surroundings with Detect Magic, then told the presiding nurse that she would like some privacy for a few hours to restore her mana and focus. The nurse complied, pulling the curtains closed, and told her to call if she began to feel worse.

Confident she was alone, Gwen began her meditation, feeling her Druidic Essence restore her Void-ravaged mana conduits. As her body healed, she attempted to figure out if her latest incident had been spontaneous or part of something more significant.

She began with her immediate concern—Kusu Li and Lulan Li. She’d seen them once before at the training hall. They had cornered her once and she had elected to ignore them. Had they challenged her because they’d thought she was an easy persimmon to squash? A little fig of fame, plump for the plucking?

Gwen knew that she was somewhat notorious because of the infamy brought by her Void talent, her scholarship, and her relationship with Petra. With the addition of Caliban's high-impact visual presence during her Bestiary training, she was likely a well-known personality on the upper campus. Was that why Kusu had challenged her?

It made sense. In European history, a young Henry V had challenged Percy Hotspur and killed him for the garlands of fame and honour taken from the warrior-prince. It was central to Henry V's plan to assume the throne by building a reputation for himself. If so, then why was Lu trying to help her? They were both Clanners and they knew each other. Kusu had even called Lu elder brother.

That being the case, had this been orchestrated by both of them? Was Kusu supposed to thrash her, then Lu comes to the rescue to impress her? Was Dai Fung a part of this?

Then again, Dai still owed her a favour. Maybe she could look into that. That was one way to resolve this problem, but further contact with yet more Clanners was the last thing she desired.

She wanted to keep meditating, but her time was up. It was time for Evocation Prac.

Evocation took place on the lower campus training grounds in a zone set up for large-scale magical demonstrations.

Portable WoF generators had been set up across two football fields, dividing the malleable, transmuted asphalt with simmering barriers. Various dummy golems given life with simplistic Animate Lesser Objects formed a line of stackable targets that, from a distance, looked comically like a wooden marching band. As with Conjuration, the examination was split between combat and utility.

As Gwen walked onto the field, she was surrounded by her usual companions in Evocation, the phonically challenged Pu, the haughty Lily, as well as the quiet Material Engineer, Jon.

"Mao below! Pu and Lily told me about what happened during Conjuration. Are you alright?" Jon inquired, his bookish face red with worry. Usually, the boy kept to himself and was the ardent listener of the foursome. "The Clanners… I don't know. Couldn't you have refused?"

In hindsight, Gwen wished she'd refused as well. She’d made a call on imperfect information and now she had to live with the consequences. But it wasn't as though Gwen had thrashed the man. It was a good duel and a lovely spectacle. Conversely, given opportunity and Evocation, she could have jacked up Ariel with a Druidic boost and potentially dropped the poor man with a single Elemental Sphere or a well-placed Lighting Bolt.

The young man had been amiable enough, humble and accepting of his defeat. Lu had helped, and Magister Birch had certified her victory. What more was there to be done? Or maybe it was the money? Gwen felt a rash of cold sweat. Kusu had given her denomination as small as five HDMs. Perhaps she’d accidentally bankrupted the guy? If someone had ruined her finances, she would be feeling sore indeed.

Then again, she had done what was best for herself in the circumstances, going so far as to leave Kusu unscathed. If that Elemental Swarm had been Void or if she’d finished him with a Void Tentacle…

Yikes.

"I've got it under control," Gwen assured her friends. "I've got back-up as well, ha-ha."

"You're friends with Petra Kuznetsova and studying under Magister Wen, right?" Pu asked, his lack of confidence written all over his face. "Are they going to help you? Magister Wen is famous for her indifference to these things."

"It's not Magister Wen who's going to help. I know that Gwen's the niece of Jun The Ashbringer Song," Lily said, far more confident than her companion in Gwen's bravado.

The two boys turned to regard Gwen with a new light. "But he's Chinese and you're…"

"He's quarter-Russian. Though he takes after my grandfather," Gwen said.

"Who's your grandfather?"

Gwen told them.

"You're a PLA Guan-er-dai. A power progeny!" Pu stammered. He had told Gwen to avoid association with Clanners, Guan-er-dai and the Fu-er-dai. He and his friends were just regular, middle-class kids with a bit of talent. Involvement in a political power feud could wipe out their entire line in a single purge.

"I’m not. It's complicated." Gwen shook her head. "The family and I are not close. I also have no desire to follow my uncle into the PLA."

"Don't worry, we understand," Lily, who was a provincial Guan-er-dai herself, said sympathetically with a wink. The girl seemed to have reached a suitable misunderstanding involving affairs and mistresses. "I am sure your family will accept you one day. You have such an amazing talent, after all."

Gwen felt fatigued by the effort required to dispel Lily's inferred hypothesis and decided against it. Her friends were clearly independently aligned students, and she was better off being seen as one of them rather than one of the big three to be avoided in Fudan.

"Still, wow, The Ash Bringer is your uncle," Pu muttered reverently.

"That's why Gwen should be safe." Lily took her arm, and they proceeded toward the centre of the practice field, where the students were assembled. "Ha, can you imagine it? Some Clanner opening their mountain gate, only to find The Ash Bringer staring them down, demanding the prick who hurt his niece."

"Uncle Jun wouldn't be so rash." Gwen chuckled, realising that perhaps, she was in a better position than she'd thought. The cognisance instantly made her relax, scattering the dark cloud of paranoia that hung overhead. In Shanghai, as in Sydney, a Mage couldn't thrive on talent alone. At worst, she could appeal to Uncle Jun. She could call in her favour with Dai. She could even ask Magister Wen, who would fight tooth and nail for her fortnightly samples.

Therefore, her present problems were solved.

Despite having spent almost five weeks with two Familiars attending class with her, Gwen's infamy in Evocation was nowhere near the level of the begrudging notoriety engendered in Conjuration. She rarely used her Void powers outside private practice, and most of the students knew her as a Conjuration Major.

For Evocation, combat trials were obstacle courses combined within a shooting range. Targets varied from stationary-single, moving-single, cluster, cluster-in-motion to identify Friend-Foe scenarios. This final segment, where enemies were placed beside allies, proved the real challenge. Even in Fudan, talented Evokers had varied access to elements and spells. Thereby, the grading was geared toward problem-solving, precision and control, spell-shaping, and situational awareness.

The rationale for such stringent training was that future graduates were independently operating agents. A secondary graduate going straight to vocation college or military service would be trained in the same tactics but would lack the knowledge necessary to become anything other than an NCO.

Unlike Gwen's incident-filled morning, the afternoon proceeded smoothly. In her class, there were prodigious standouts in Evocation. A plethora of Fire Mages scored over ninety. An Earthen Mage scored over one hundred, performing above the scoring threshold. The student who topped the class was a Mud Mage, the first of his kind Gwen had ever seen, who had a perfect one hundred and twenty, going so far as to single out and destroy a target surrounded by moving, friendly dummies simulating a panicked crowd.

Gwen finished her heat with a personal best of one minute and fifty-eight seconds, extinguishing eighteen of twenty targets with an aggregate score of eighty-nine. Her companions in Evocation, Pu and Lily, finished in the mid-eighties, with Jon trailing in the sixties.

Gwen didn't mind the modest score because she was bereft of a foe-seeking spirit to guide her bolts, not to mention both Ariel and Caliban were absent from her score. She was happy with the uninspiring result, for the last thing she needed was another Clanner to pluck a wreath from her brow to adorn their heads.

Magus Young was still excitedly congratulating the victor when Gwen told her friends that she needed some food in her belly. She had used her Void abilities excessively in the morning, then skipped lunch thanks to Lu's creepy kindness. Going by the experience of the past month, another hour or two without a fortifying meal of mana-rich comfort cuisine and she would be feeling light-headed and dizzy.

Her friends urged her to be safe, offering to escort her home.

"Well, how about I shout you guys a nice dinner since we're all going the same way?" Gwen suggested. Familiarity bred intimacy, after all. She had known Pu, Lily and Jon for almost six weeks.

"Shout dinner?" Lily raised a brow.

"It means buy dinner," Gwen said.

The boys were keen, going by their breathless anticipation. Lily sighed, overpowered by democracy. "Alright, nothing too expensive," she said.

"How about Fengbo Manor on Zhengmin Road?" Gwen offered. "Cheap as chips, and a top watering hole too."

"What do those words even mean?" Lily looked confused by her idiomatic expressions. Gwen realised that her Australian expressions appeared bizarre in her magically translated Mandarin. "Is it next to a lake?"

"Whatever it might be, I’m sure it's good." Heedless of Lily's protests, the boys took their friend by her arms and began to carry her forward, urging Gwen to lead the way.

Fengbo Village was cheap but well worth the visit. The place was tiny, with a whimsical decor that alluded to a branch of the Beggar's Clan. Its dishes followed titles that sounded like something from an old wuxia vid-cast, with the menu tastefully written on bamboo. plaques.

"I'll take a Fengbo platter, Wildland Beggar Pheasant, Chilli Mud-Carp soup, braised pork, purple bamboo stir fry with preserved rabbit. Also, a giant-headed fish pot, stuffed goat leg, and two tubs of Enchanting Jasmine rice."

The matron took their orders.

"Tsingtao for the table as well, Mama," Gwen ordered from the menu like a local even as her Ioun stone struggled with the pictogram calligraphy.

"You got it, beauty." The middle-aged NoM lady, who was the chef's wife and proprietor, took Gwen's order to the kitchen. Gwen knew she was a favoured customer. She usually ordered the most expensive and exotic dishes on the menu, making her a godsend in attracting customers.

"So is this your usual haunt?" Pu looked around the tiny restaurant, uncomfortable in an eatery fit only for middle-class NoMs and low-rank Mages.

"They serve fresh ingredients if you order the specials," Gwen said. "I guess it's not always Wildland produce, but the taste is top-notch." She was growing guilty of being spoilt by Marong and Mayuree's maid. During a hectic week, she had eaten so often at Mayuree's generous behest that she was sure the maid had had to restock the pantry twice over.

At Fengbo, her favourite food here was the Beggar Wildland Pheasant. It was a fantastic dish that she’d initially ordered out of curiosity. The chef first cleaned and tied off a Wildland Pheasant after stuffing it with Chinese rice wine, cured ginger, shallots, coriander leaf, star anise, soy and blood sugar, then wrapped it in betel leaves, covered it in clay, buried it in a charcoal kiln and baked it for six hours.

When served, the chef personally presented himself with the cocoon, breaking the clay "egg" with a mighty blow from a wooden hammer and releasing the famously steaming pheasant within. The juices flowed generously onto the wooden plate as the leaves came off, sending out an aroma that flooded the restaurant and about half the alleyway.

"How is it possible that I am getting food advice from a Gweilo?" Lily moaned. "Beggar's pheasant, where have you been all my life?"

The foursome tapped their beers then dug into the dish, carving up the bird with their greasy fingers and sending up another cloud of aromatic euphoria throughout the restaurant.

"Boss, one pheasant!"

"Mama, one here as well."

Gwen's other dishes came soon after, weighing down their bamboo table until its lattice frame creaked.

"Dig in." She urged her friends to try a bit of everything.

Beers clinked and Gwen bit into a chicken leg, then almost choked. As the taste hit her tongue, she perceived a crashing premonition of danger, turning the savoury juices into rusty iron as if she'd bitten through undercooked offal. She looked about her surroundings, searching the patrons. Her Divination was too untrained to pinpoint hazards and recognise the source of potential dangers. Could it be her fellow diners? Was it the man stuffing his face with jasmine rice, or perhaps the bloke who looked as though the Sichuan fish was giving him an aneurysm?

Seeing Gwen's sudden expression of dismay, her companions' chopsticks came to a standstill.

WHAM!

The restaurant's bamboo gates flung open with a crash. A girl-Mage of about five-foot-five stood on the threshold, her ochre eyes more rust than amber, burning with a circular current of Elemental Earth. She was attired in black, her silhouette tenebrous against the exterior streetlights.

Wocao! It's been less than six hours! Was the girl that impatient for satisfaction? Shouldn't she be plotting from the shadows or at least ambushing her somewhere discreet? How about bringing a few goons or calling on some allies? Gwen was sure the caution of Lulan's peers still rang in her ears.

While Gwen held her beggar pheasant in disbelief, Lulan Li strode across the bamboo tiles toward her table. Pu stared with his mouth hanging half-open. Jon was struggling to keep the soup in his mouth. Lily’s soup flowed from her lips.

Gwen dropped the chicken awkwardly, then looked for a napkin. If the girl wanted to meet and greet, it was best performed with dignity and not orchestrated with a pheasant drumstick.

A second later, the girl was upon them.

The restaurant was packed with primarily NoM patrons, yet all grew silent as Gwen withstood the pressure unleashed by Lulan's petite body. A stench of oxidised iron permeated the air, a scent that curiously reminded Gwen of that unfortunate time in Blackheath.

"Lulan Li.” The girl declared.

"Gwen Song."

"I know.”

"How can I help you?” Gwen asked.

Gwen was confident she could bluff the girl. She was wearing a bib and her hands were still sticky with grease. It was hard to face down a stone-cold Sorceress, more so when your dignity was buried in juicy chicken bits.

"My brother's daggers. I want them returned."

"What daggers?" she asked carefully.

"The daggers you took during today's match."

"I took his daggers?” Gwen tried to recall the battle’s minute details.

"Don't play the fool!" Lulan snapped at her. "Your Mongolian Death Worm! It ate almost a hundred of big brother's implements. I want them returned! They don't belong to you."

SHIT. The girl was talking about the daggers the Earthen Conjurer had summoned. How the fuck was she supposed to know they were magical implements? Return them? Since when did Caliban return anything?

"There's going to be a slight problem with that," Gwen replied politely. Were the daggers particularly precious or were they a sentimental thing?

"You better not fuck with me." Lulan's irises alternated between amber and wine, pulsating with dark emotions. She seemed unusually taken, Gwen noted, almost excessively so. "Those daggers took brother thousands of hours to inscribe. They're irreplaceable."

That would explain why Kusu had been moving them around like a telepath. She had thought the guy had a Sword Spirit or something. But none of that mattered now. She couldn't return them; Caliban couldn't regurgitate the blades. This left her with a problem.

The irrationality of Lulan's act was as rash as fire, more so than Yue, who wouldn’t do something as stupid as confronting a rival in public, and alone no less. Furthermore, Gwen couldn't see why the Huashan girl would ruin herself by attacking her there. Was it a ploy? Surely it couldn’t be over measly steak knives? Did she have other associates outside, waiting for an ambush?

"I am afraid that's impossible," Gwen explained calmly. "Caliban consumes things in a manner directly correlated to the Void. Your brother's implements are gone in the purest, most literal sense imaginable."

As the last of her words left her lips, the ground began to tremble. The Elemental Earth pouring out of the girl was tectonic! Gwen's Divination Sigil pinched her nerves like she'd slipped a disk. She immediately circulated a flood of Void matter through her mana-conduits, triggering a surge of her Druidic Essence. Across the table, her companions readied themselves likewise, resisting the incredible pressure exerted by the brash Earthen Elementalist.

"Don't you fucking dare," Lily warned Lulan. "My father is—"

THUMP!

Something struck their table from the top, smashing the bamboo top into a splintering mess. The recently prepared banquet erupted in a delicious cascade, sending up a fountain of hot soup, congealing grease, chunks of chicken, slices of pork, vegetables and rice into a fantastic shower.

Gwen regretted not having her Familiars out. Caliban was naturally gifted at snatching flying bits of food out of the air.

"Tamade! That bitch is dead!" Lily, the fiery Evoker, staggered back from the table, her expression livid with anger as she wiped soup from her lips. Pu and Jon likewise retreated, their clothes and faces covered with sauce.

Gwen sat without moving an inch. She knew the immediate danger had passed. Her Divination sense was no longer flaring like a swollen sinus during the pollen season.

She sighed as bits of beggar pheasant fell from her hair and dripped onto her v-necked tunic, soaking her intimates with mouth-watering brine.

Picking a leg of pork from between her thighs, she looked around to see if the owners were safe. The patrons and the staff were fine, and their assailant was gone. Lulan Li had likely made her escape during the eruption of the banquet volcano, while their attention was distracted by the Earthen explosion.

"Sorry, aunty, I'll pay for all this," she said to the terrified NoM woman cowering in the corner. "The Arbitrators should be here later. Please let them know what happened."

"Ayeeeya!" The woman seemed to have regained some of her sensibility. "Are you okay, Miss? Ai-ya! Your clothes are all dirty!" The lady-owner picked herself up from the floor and approached Gwen with a large towel she retrieved from the kitchen. "We have a shower upstairs," she said helpfully. Her husband watched warily from the kitchen. The rest of the diners, in typical Shanghai fashion, either discussed the spectacle with great enthusiasm or continued eating as though nothing had happened.

Gwen's friends double-checked their surroundings and affirmed that Lulan Li was gone.

"I am going to tell my dad. Don't you worry a bit, Gwen," Lily said.

"That's alright, Lil. I don't want to involve you. I'll inform my uncle," Gwen returned in kind, speaking a language that her friend understood.

"Wocao! Huashan Sect," Pu cursed, his face scowling. "Gwen, are you alright?"

"I-I've got pork floss in my eye," Jon complained as he rinsed his face with a kettle of warm water the lady-owner provided.

"Sorry, everyone." Gwen wrung a fistful of broth from her shirt. She could launder her outfit, but she was determined to cut her losses if it meant getting out of this sticky mess sooner. She dropped a fistful of Kusu's HDMs on the counter and told the owner not to worry about the change.

But was it safe to go home? She was about five minutes from the apartment. Maybe if she used Expeditious Retreat and Enhanced Agility?

Something wasn't right in the girl's head, that much was obvious even to Gwen. Could she bet that Lulan Li wouldn't assault her in the middle of Shanghai's second-largest university district? There was a police station just a block away! There was a Tower within walking distance! Could she bet her life on Lulan's rationality?

Gwen wasn't a betting sort of woman. She pulled up her Message device and dialled Richard. Behind her, her Evocation companions exchanged curses and insults about their encounter with the iron idiot.

"Yes, Gwen?" Richard's voice answered.

"Hey, Dick," Gwen said sweetly. "Can I trouble you for an escort? I am a bit ruined from an unexpected… catfight."

Chapter thirty

The Greener Grass

SLAP!

Elder Li's backhanded strike left a five-digit imprint on Lulan's cheek.

"WHAT DID I TELL YOU?" Lulan's uncle hissed. "Subtlety! Here is not our territory. We have no influence here in Shanghai. Why in the name of the Ancestor Jiang did you do that?"

"Uncle Luwei, Lulan was just—"

"Shut your mouth, Kusu." Luwei turned to his disciple with a wave of anger that made the young man recoil. "YOU LOST, and what's more, you lost a hundred or more of your inscribed daggers. How long did it take you to craft those blades?"

"Three years, Shifu," her brother replied demurely. When dealing with their sect elders, respect was kinder than kinship.

"Well? Where are they?" Their uncle turned to Lulan. "You went to find Gwen Song, didn't you? Where are your brother's inscribed implements?"

Lulan touched a finger to her swelling cheek. A dangerous mist of pinkish oxide seemed to reach her eyes. "Gwen Song says they have been destroyed."

"And you believed her?"

"No."

Her uncle looked as though he was about to slap her again for good measure, but the chilling, murderous intent seeping from Lulan's body was very persuasive.

"I spoke to Second Brother earlier. Our sect received a caution from the Tower. A Magister Wen made an official complaint. We received a caution! What do you think would happen if either of you were expelled or blacklisted? You will never receive accreditation. You think another C-9 league university would take rejects from Fudan?"

Lulan bore the verbal beatdown without flinching. Her brother was less resilient.

"Stupid child! You don't know who Wen is, do you? Let me remind you—Magister Marie-Roslyn Wen of Henglong Laboratory is on no less than four advisory boards, three examination councils and is a regular member of the accreditation committee! I don't care if this 'Gwen' is an inbred dog. She's Magister Wen's dog. DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME, LULAN?"

Lulan forced herself to nod even as the mana insider threatened to go haywire. Beside her, Elder Luwei looked out of breath, "Who told you that Gwen Song had been excommunicated from the Songs?"

"I heard it from Pei," Lulan said, her voice hoarse with animosity. She never liked Pei, who was the youngest son of their patriarch, Dulian Li. Talented and fair of disposition, there were rumours that should Pei would become the inheriting disciple.

"It's true, Shifu," Kusu said, stepping in front of her protectively in case the Master's hands itched again. Lulan, however, began to understand that they had been used. It was the unavoidable fate of orphans. Their Master, San—a homonym for "third uncle"— had perished at the Undead Front a year ago. Since then, Lulan's talent and unique demeanour had made a dangerous combination that seriously agitated factional politics in the Huashan Sect.

"What does Pei have to do with this?” Lulan asked.

"He knows Gwen Song's brother, Percy Song," Kusu said.

Lulan remained mum, knowing that she brought out the worst in her elders. It was the chief reason she was scorned in the sect despite her talent.

"Go on.” She still could not understand what her brother meant.

“It’s an important distinction," Kusu continued. "Percy told our junior brother that his sister had been excommunicated from the family and made to give up her inheriting heirloom—a Kirin Stone Amulet. Pei further confirmed that he had seen this amulet worn by her brother. We'd thought that since she was expelled from the inheriting line entirely…"

"Guo Song disinherited a girl with dual Void and Lighting? She's got a Mongolian Death Worm leashed to her astral body!" the Master muttered incredulously. "Why didn't the two of you think of that? Huh? Do you think someone without backing just casually goes farming for pets in the Khitani Desert? That's a Centaur-ruled Black Zone! Not even the Undead venture there. Maybe the Ashbringer escorted her? But he's an active Military member. Then again…" Her uncle scanned the sect's two prodigies, probably checking to see if they were trying to fool him. "Fine. I'll verify it with the elder. So, who's idea was it?"

It was a rhetorical question. Lulan, who stood demurely behind Kusu, blanched. She couldn’t act out, for she was the culprit who ruined her brother's chances at advancing his position.

"That's it? You acted on a rumour?"

"We studied the girl for weeks," Kusu said. "She never spoke of or visited her grandfather even once. She saw Director Song three to four times on shopping trips and luncheons. Her primary focus seems to be training. Even when we confronted her a few weeks ago, she fled from us. She's not from the PLA Faction, I guarantee it."

Their uncle eyed the siblings with dissatisfaction. Lulan could see her silence continued to rub him the wrong way, especially when their stupid ploy had sullied the name of the Huashan Sect. Thanks to them, the elder needed to return to the mount and inform the other elders.

"Master Uncle?” Kusu said.

Luwei gave Lulan a stern and dangerous look. "Leave me and keep your sister out of trouble. Tend to your injuries and write a reflection letter for the patriarch. Leave nothing out. Explicitly examine every single ability Gwen Song has demonstrated."

"Yes, Shifu."

"And a Letter of Apology to Magister Wen as well. Lulan, you're forbidden from contacting Gwen Song again."

"No." The word was out before Lulan could stop herself.

"Good, I—" Luwei stopped. For a moment, her Master Uncle looked like he'd gone senile.

Her eyes felt hot, and her brain felt in the midst of a fever. A part of her realised she was staring at Kusu as though in a trance. It’s the red mist, Lulan cautioned herself. But her mind was mired in fog. Their old Master had said that it had something to do with excessive Yang energy. As the man had ordained, Huashan's Ironheart technique wasn’t for female disciples, not that Lulan cared.

Though numbed by the haze, Lulan felt her mouth move. "They're going on an excursion to the lost districts today. I can confront her there. I'll get my brother's daggers back. Give me another chance. I won't fail."

"Lulan!" Their uncle's patience was hanging by a straw. "Enough!"

She met her uncle's eyes with an expression of insubordinate defiance.

Her brother’s expression said everything.

SLAP!

Kusu flinched.

Another five-fingered welt marred the other side of Lulan's face.

When their uncle spoke again, his voice had more fatigue than anger. "By the Iron Sword, there’d better not be another incident. Also, make sure that your implements are either retrieved or destroyed. Do not let them steal our sect's arts. If it happens, I will personally disinherit the both of you."

Lulan tasted the iron in her mouth.

"Yes, Shifu." Kusu bowed. "I will negotiate with Gwen Song."

Their uncle left, but his absence only made the bee sounds in her ear louder.

"Kusu…" Lulan fought the swarm trying to escape skull.

"Lulu." Her brother shook his head, then leaned in close. "How are your cheeks? Does it hurt?”

Kusu Li did his best to clean up his sister's bruised face.

Far better than his sister, Kusu understood the awkward position they now occupied in the sect. Their Master, San Li, was dead. Lulu had to be brought to heel, but if she could not…

He dare not think of the consequences.

Kusu remained in place, bowing until his uncle's sedan drove away.

These days, he could barely recall the cute little sister that had hung onto his neck and refused to yield an inch. Even as his eyes wandered toward her, he could sense the raging mana within her, giving her irises that distinct rusty accent that so many feared.

Once, Lulu's eyes had been clear crystal amber. Once, her skin had been fragile porcelain, not the rusty bloat she now affected, with the metal-afflicted mana stretched taut over a trained figure without softness. If he looked carefully, he caught bruises and abrasions from practice and adventure that floated beneath her porcelain exterior, but these minor blemishes only added to her peculiar aura.

Hopefully, this was the end of the incident for himself and his sister. Their father might be the second-hand man of the patriarch, but he was more a scholar than a warrior, influential because he held the purse strings, not because he could wield the Iron Sword over the heads of his enemies.

When it came to factional conflicts, Luming Li wouldn’t stand on the side of his children.

As for the Iron Sword of Huashan…

Kusu reached out with one hand to catch his sister's. Even as their fingers touched, he noted with shame that Lulu's hands were not like that of a girl's. She had the calloused palms of a swordswoman.

"Don't worry, I'll protect you," Kusu said, wondering if that was true. Who was protecting who? Could he trust Pei to abide by his promise?

Then abruptly, his fingers grasped air. Where he had expected Lulan to meet his hand, there was only absence.

"Lulan?" He looked up, expecting to find an unhappy sister.

The girl was gone. She had Misty Stepped away into the aether.

Ten thousand llamas rode across the terrain of Kusu's muddy mindscape, each a furry herald of interesting times to come.

Friday

Excursion Day

Gwen's Economic and Management essays had been done and dusted with complete confidence, aiming for distinctions, meaning she was free to enjoy the lull in her studies.

The "field trip", as it was announced, would take up to three days, from Friday to Sunday, pending on the students' performances.

Gwen was joined by a jubilant Mayuree, an indifferent Kitty, and a tired-looking Richard, who likewise saw the excursion as a big break. She was also happy because the Lulan situation was finished. While pumping two cubes full of the tenebrous energy of extinction, Gwen had told Magister Wen of her troubles. Petra's Master had told her she would put a word in with the Tower, which should be the end of it.

Confident in the Magister's promise, Gwen turned her attention to the excursion. She took stock of her Adventuring Gear: one pair of leggy double-lace Boots of Flying. One civilian-class Chameleon Cloak—stowed. One pair of tactical underwear from Dad. One Ring of Evasion. And she had her usual passive items, such as her Ioun Stones and Gunther's Contingency Ring. She also possessed a Vitae Fruit and Petra's gift of tier eight Regeneration in her storage ring. She had six healing injectors and six mana injectors.

Her problem with mana potions was that the mundane variety restored less than half of her mana, while the greater variety was almost ten times the price, at nearly sixty HDMs.

Comparatively, their MVP Kitty required virtually nothing to supplement her enviable spell list of everything from Haste to Fly, Frost Armour to Blizzard. In her button-tab blouse and grey-blue skort, the pixie-like Mage appeared as professional as she was perfect.

Richard, meanwhile, wore jeans, a lumber jack's flannel, combat boots and white inners. He had also taken to acquiring a beard after Gwen had mentioned just how much manlier Jun looked than Morye with his circular beard, though her cousin's five o’clock shadow made him more thuggish than handsome.

Mayuree, finally, was decked out in Fu-er-dai splendour, two enchanted rings on each hand, an Amulet of Health at her throat. She wore a white, inscribed knee-length dress that repelled dirt, dust and elements effects, paired with Boots of Flying that were Water-Walking as well. The Diviner also had off no fewer than three Combat Wands: A Wand of Magic Missile, a Wand of Scorching Ray and a Wand of Stone Shape, each with ten charges.

"Are we anticipating something?" Gwen asked the Diviner. There must be a reason why Mayuree was equipped to clear out a Hob's Den.

"Who knows?" Mayuree shrugged mysteriously. "It's good to be prepared, you know."

"Can I get a heads up?"

"I'd rather not."

“Fine, fine." Gwen made a mental note to tail her Diviner closely. "How are we getting there?"

Their answer came in the form of an anti-climatic, rented municipal bus.

About forty students took the bus to the first district, an area that had once been known as Chonggu-Zhen, meaning "Hamlet of the Clan Chong-Gu". But both Clan and name had been lost to the shifting sands of dynasty and epoch until all that remained was a misnomer for the "model" city's official designation—District 35.

As the bus rolled out, Gwen realised shamefully that this was the farthest she’d ventured from Shanghai's CBD since arriving half a year ago. There was so much to see, but she had seen none of it. It was the equivalent of an expatriate in New York never going past Queens or a Sydneysider having never gone beyond the shire.

As the superstructures of Shanghai's central districts fell away, the roadsides began to transform. The concrete city mortared in steel and glass shifted to brick and tin until finally, only stunted apartments with blasted windows for eyes and busted doors for teeth appeared.

"Reconstruction Zones," someone on the bus said helpfully. "Mao, they're filthy."

After three-quarters of an hour, the Third Orbital Ring reached its farthest boundary and the landscape changed again. The roads grew straighter; power poles began to make a regular appearance and trees made their presence known once again. In the distance, Gwen could see District 35 and its megastructure looming overhead, coming closer as their bus hurtled down the highway.

The district zones were just like her memory of the infamous Kowloon Walled City. Behind a concrete barrier four metres high, the stacked rectangular blocks appeared packed back-to-back, wall-to-wall, floor-to-ceiling. In a fashion unique to Asian culture, laundry, not architecture, dominated the scene—an endless array of laundry kilometres long and forty stories high covered every conceivable space on the building's exterior, giving the place the appearance of a pirate fort made from stilts and canvas rather than rebar-reinforced concrete.

The bus pulled up at the gate, where a PLA trooper hailed the driver and examined their clearance before opening the gate. The massive concrete barriers were like the walls of a dam, opening with agonising slowness, as the students waited silently on the bus.

"I can see a lady's brasserie from here," someone remarked jovially, pointing toward a window chock-full of laundry. "Impressive size."

The crowd burst into laughter, dispelling the nervousness of entering a world where NoMs were the norm.

Soon, the bus moved into the courtyard, following their guide, where the driver told the students to disembark. After so much time in Fudan, Gwen felt as though she'd stepped into another country.

One by one, the student Mages emerged into the lazy heat of the afternoon. As soon as she disembarked, Gwen became aware that she was being watched by an endless multitude of curious, prying eyes.

The entire district had turned out to watch the Fudan Mages. There were faces in every window, hanging from every winter garden, gawking from every rooftop, nook and cranny. Women, children, grannies and lasses all looked upon the rare visitors below with gleaming eyes full of wonder and worship.

The Mages are here, they were surely telling each other. Not just any student Mages either, but Sorcerers and Sorceresses from Fudan. Mages who would one day stand at the front, protecting their lives and the lives of those from the hive city selected for conscription. Mages, whose effort and favour meant their loved ones lived or died, survived or perished.

That's all thanks to the propaganda, Gwen thought sadly. The citizens had likely never known anything else. A necessary achievement of any successful regime was to create orthodoxy, for orthodoxy removed any need to think and question the norm. In both her worlds, new and old, China didn’t lack indoctrination.

"DISTRICT 35 WELCOMES OUR DELEGATION FROM FUDAN!"

The sudden burst of symphonic propaganda almost took Gwen off her feet. She had to suppress a choking bout of laughter at the absurd sight of a giant red banner unfurled from the rooftop. It read:

DISTRICT 35 WELCOMES SAVIOUR MAGES

While another on the adjacent building read:

UPHOLD IDEOLOGY OF SOCIALISM

MAN AND MAGE HAND IN HAND

Jesus Christ, Gwen scoffed. Do they think it’s that easy—

Then the children came.

Good God! Gwen would have screamed were it not for the need to maintain decorum. Cut little children were rushing out, dressed in red, to bring the Mages wreaths—handmade, origami flower wreaths! The kids streamed past Ma and the Administrator. Little bodies surrounded the students three to a caster and began bestowing upon them handmade presents.

"Miss, you so pretty."

"Oh miss, you so tall."

"You must be important, miss."

Her prideful heart melted as the children's praise stroked her ego like a cat.

The same story was being told everywhere, and the Mages from Fudan clearly grew instantly drunk on the praises of little boys and girls with their innocent, worshipful eyes.

Gwen's cynicism melted away. The children were too adorable. She picked one up, scooping the child expertly until she held the little girl in her arms. With an adorable tilt of her hand, the girl placed the red and gold wreath around Gwen's head.

A dozen little boys and girls had Richard and tried to overpower him with handicraft. Mayuree, meanwhile, had entered nirvana, squealing and laughing uncontrollably.

Kitty was the best of them. She ignored the first and engaged an aura of rime which informed the kids not to push their luck. After the first left dejectedly, the rest avoided the Ice Mage and congregated around Gwen and the others.

Amid her euphoria, Gwen looked past the crowd and saw Professor James Ma standing with the administrator from earlier, smiling conspiratorially. What an absurd display. Gwen wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry. What the hell is this? Is this what I’ve geared up for? The kids are too much! Gods! She felt as though she was overdosing on oxytocin. The little girls were beyond delightful. Mayuree's little one was a cutie as well. Arrrrgh! Richard had three hugging him at once. Beware of jealousy, for it is the green-eyed monster—

"Mages, welcome!" Finally, the man next to Ma began to speak. "I am Yuhan Lai, secretariat of District 35. I welcome you to our humble abode."

Collectively, the Mages bowed.

The crowd’s returning enthusiasm reached the level of a cult.

"I hope that you haven't had lunch yet because you will now meet your hosts and enjoy a bountiful meal cooked by the matriarch of the family," Lai declared.

The children took Gwen by the hand and began to lead her away. She looked at Richard, alarmed, but Mayuree came between them. "It's safe," her Diviner companion assured her. "Enjoy the lunch. A little breeze told me that the excitement will take place in another district."

That assurance was enough to settle Gwen and she allowed herself to be led away.

As it turned out, there was a perfect reason why the students were separated, and it had nothing to do with trying to separate party members. It was because their NoM hosts’ apartments could house only one Mage and the host family.

Gwen sat at the head of a table usually set for two adults, two children and a toddler. The room was stacked from floor to ceiling with versatile vertical space-savers. Fold-out beds, fold-out chairs. Fold-out cupboards. Fold-out everything. The entire block measured four metres wide and five-odd long, forming a space for five people—three children, one grandparent and a mother in her early thirties.

"Please make yourself comfortable, Miss Mage." The woman, to Gwen's eyes, was quite beautiful in a homely sort of way. She was a recent mother, for she had that soft and feminine allure to her eyes, as well as a lingering scent of breast milk.

"Please call me Gwen," Gwen insisted. "What's your name?"

"My name is Bai-Lian, mistress," the woman replied. "I am delighted to be of service."

"Thank you for the luncheon, Bailian," Gwen replied kindly.

"Oh no, it's thanks to your presence that we are getting extra rations. Please help yourself." The woman bowed again needlessly.

"Big sister, please partake in this tea."

The kids must have been tutored because the six-year-old girl expertly poured Jasmine tea into a cup and presented it to her with both hands.

"Thank you." Gwen took the cup carefully, terrified of spilling the tea on the little one.

"Please try these dates." Another little girl presented her with a bowl of honeyed dates.

"Thank you."

The mother left, then returned bringing in a banquet of dishes until the table was laden with food. It was all mundane, household fair, but it looked delectable. Egg with chives, braised pork, steamed garlic bokchoi, eggplant and mince, ginger and shallot fish in soy sauce.

Gwen expertly worked her chopsticks, portioning the food and delivering it into the bowls of the children, whose eyes gleamed with such longing that Gwen forgot about her insatiable appetite. Bailian refused to dine with them but made no move to stop Gwen from giving her portion to the children.

She spent the next half an hour conversing with the single mother, but Bailian's answers grew vague once Gwen asked about her husband.

"He was conscripted two years ago…" The woman put on a wan smile that didn't touch her eyes, then was silent.

Oh, shit. Gwen realised she stepped on a Warding Glyph. It was no business of hers that this woman had a babe not yet two years old. "Do you work?" she asked.

Bailian nodded. "I clean people's apartments and cook for them."

Gwen asked her how she found life, and Bai told her that she wished one of her three children could be a Mage. She’d joined with another young man because his great-grandfather had been a Fire Evoker.

The little girls looked at Gwen with eyes that she dared not meet. She placed a hand on their heads and felt the softness of their hair, brushing the silky curls passing through her fingers.

Bailian wished her children were Mages.

Gwen thought of Sydney and the battle there—the dead Mages' bodies splayed across the streets, dragged away by the Mermen, eaten alive by impatient enemies too hungry to wait. She thought of Instructor Chen's maniacal glint as he laughed and laughed while the juniors vomited around him.

Was life so miserable here? The grass was greener on the other side, but lions lay in wait in the greener bushes.

Nephres Zalaam could scarcely believe her luck.

Gwen fucking Song.

The report in her hand shivered, the mute paper quivering as though alive.

How was such an occurrence possible? Nephres' mind reeled with disbelief, unsure if this was a boon or bane.

According to reports from Oceania, the culprit disrupting her mistress' plans had disappeared after the junior Ravenport had perished without rhyme or reason in Sydney. Edgar had gone to perform the mistress' request, then the next thing they knew, Edmund Moore Ravenport was as dead as a dodo. It was supposed to have been a low-risk mission. Ravenport's young Master had been a Dust Magus, and the shield station full of Frontier Abjurers, for God's sake. And he’d had an entire troop of Raven Guards with him! Four Senior Mages and two Magus, all gone.

But that's all in the past now—spilt milk and all that.

As the nurse-in-residence for Young Lord Ravenport, her dereliction of duty meant she’d had to flee the house immediately. For mercenaries like herself, failure held a worse fate than death, for the wrath of a psychopathic lord like Mycroft Ravenport belied the common imagination.

Another reason for Nephres' escape was that she had decided that her loyalty was first to her mistress, then to the organisation, then to the family she’d once served.

Still… Gwen Song. Nephres bit her lower lip, her eyes wandering back to the task at hand.

She was in Shanghai to pick up a supply of magically gifted youths to bring back to the Outlands—a word the Cabal preferred to the nomenclature of "Wildlands". After all, they were the others and it only made sense that they weren't demi-humans, but men and women who chose to live outside the ordinary human world. Besides, "Outlands" rolled off the tongue better.

In all honesty, as a city girl, she found the whole ordeal pretty funny. A Cabal of Rogue Mages squabbling over power, dabbling in fucking public relations, of all things. Who cared what the Mageocracy called them? Did they think that the Towers would accept them with open arms because of alliteration? Idiots.

Her gaze once more fell upon the report.

Her local sweetmeat, Boss Yi, had told her to lay low for a few days. "Got Elites coming through from Fudan. Find the deepest hole you can and bury yourself in it for the next week," he’d told her. "Maybe stay in bed, hey? We can make a child for sure. You feeling up to the task?"

"Go fuck yourself," she’d told him.

"Ha-ha." Yi had fallen about cackling like an idiot, withdrawing from the silhouette of her sweat-soaked figure, smelling foully of sex. "I do love you so, you little minx."

"You expect me to believe that, do you?"

"Look, stay safe these few days, alright?” Yi had advised for caution. “Stay out of trouble. Keep your crew below and out of sight."

Nephres didn't dislike Boss Yi, but she wasn't an owned woman. Far from it, she rather fancied the boss as her business and pleasure.

Love? To bear the man's child? Those thoughts had never crossed her mind, not before and not now.

Gwen fucking Song. She still couldn’t believe that the little bitch, after six months off the map, would fall into her lap like God's gift from the blue yonder. What's more, she knew it wasn't a trap, for it was serendipity that she had spotted the girl at all. Out of curiosity, Nephres had asked her contacts to generate a list of the Fudan elites visiting the districts in case one of them ended up causing trouble for their operations. As the dossier had passed through her hands, she’d paused at a striking face looking out from the page.

Guo Song. MSS Committee Chair.

Klavdiya Song. Director of second PLA Experimental Hospital.

Hai Song. Unknown.

Helena Huang. Unknown.

So the girl was a power progeny. Nephres recalled furrowing her perfectly tapered brows. That would explain a few things, but not why she’d been associated with the Sydney Tower and the folks at the very top. How were they even connected? How could they begin to know each other? The British Mageocracy and the PLA were at odds, were they not? The grandfather could be troublesome, but that was a problem for Boss Yi, not herself.

There was one addendum that was cause for concern.

Jun Song. The Ashbringer.

Even as a foreign agent, Nephres had heard of the hero of the Northern Front. The man was a walking Golem of death, and if he should find out someone had taken his niece…

Poor Yi, Nephres chuckled to herself. She tried to imagine his face when the Ashbringer came knocking. Her eyes teared up as her slow chuckle escalated into rip-roaring, belly-aching laughter. Holy shit! If she wasn’t going to be on a cargo ship a hundred miles away, she would've loved nothing else than to watch the Goddamned Ashbringer ripping the district apart. What would be the look on Yi's face then? What kind of expression would he make? What would the man confess to as his body was transformed into necrotic ash, inch by inch?

Before returning to the Outlands, her mistress had said that the girl had been instrumental to the Black Sun's collapse at the zenith of its success. Likewise, her connection to Gunther Shultz and the Scarlet Sorceress made her an invaluable hostage. Had the Cabal at Spectre not miscalculated the anger of a land god, Sydney would now be a Mermen nest.

Shamefully, her information network was limited, but she knew one thing for sure. If she could get her hands on Gwen Song, then her stint in the shitholes of South Asia was over.

Whether as an offering to her mistress or as a gift to another member of the Cabal or even to Edmund's father, the ascension of Nephres Zalaam was at hand.

Chapter thirty-one

The Damned

Gwen farewelled her host family.

She had felt sorry for the single mother but knew the danger of giving wealth to those who could not afford to keep it; though District 35 might appear tranquil and safe, Gwen wasn't naive enough to believe Shanghai could swallow the hype it sold.

In the end, she left the woman two self-injecting Healing potions and a potion of Cure Disease. One dose was enough to restore haleness and health if the mother or children were sick or injured. Likewise, the potions could be bartered if the woman was unwise enough to trade them for money or give them as favours.

Either way, Gwen was under no delusions that she was a Samaritan. What she’d done, she’d done for pleasure and ego. Her kindness was a repayment for the joy the children had brought her, however brief and choreographed.

When they returned to the courtyard, eight separate buses waited for departure, assigning the students to different hive cities, ranging from 108 and upwards. The higher the number, Mia had hinted, the bigger the shit show.

While they waited, the residents above threw paper confetti from the top floors, showering the courtyard with a snowfall of colourful slips that made an undeniably enchanting scene.

Mayuree was beside herself with unadulterated joy, waving happily to her host family, blowing them goodbye kisses, gushing as she tried to catch the falling confetti. Richard and Kitty, however, stood indifferently. Her cousin smiled awkwardly at his over-enthused host family, while Kitty engaged in no pretence to hide her apathy.

When they boarded the bus to District 109, their assigned outer district, there only remained their party of four and another party of three seniors—two young men and an older woman. They hadn’t seen these Mages prior except in passing during the lectures, and so the two groups snubbed each other, segregated in the fore section and back.

Finally, with a honk and the sound of earth-shattering applause in their ears, they were away. The buses returned to the highway, then ventured toward the furthest reaches of the Fourth Orbital Ring Road.

After ten rumbling minutes on the highway, Professor James Ma's projection appeared, this time as a ghostly tour guide. The trip to District 109 would take almost an hour. As an academic excursion, it naturally came with a lecture component.

"Hello, comrades in the Management course. I hope you have enjoyed the exemplar of prosperity, a city that, under good management, has successfully attained a balance between autonomy and compliance.

"District 35, a model district, accounts for a third of our current satellite NoM cities. Contained within the district is an escalator system of advancement where the public education offered to the NoM Citizens ensures that they are capable of achieving lives outside of the hive, where the best and brightest have opportunities to become civil servants, engage in productive labour for the state or find work in the private sector. I hope you have enjoyed your first-hand experience of speaking with the NoM citizens. These are the people who will be under your care in the future.

"Next, you will be receiving a different educational experience. You will find out what happens when law and order diminish in a hive city. You will come to acknowledge what is at stake should you fail."

A slight murmur spread through the bus. This episode was no surprise to anyone. The student Mages had all been warned by friends, alumni, family, Masters and instructors.

"Young comrades, you will now be entering the lost districts. Your designation is team seven and nine and you have been assigned to D109."

There were glitches in the later recording, suggesting to Gwen that Lecturer Ma had been slothful and dubbed over an old lecture with a few new lines.

When the lecture resumed, Professor Ma was in a different coloured vest, making Gwen chuckle with nostalgia. It was the sort of thing her old-world lecturers at Sydney University would have done as well.

"D109 remains one of the largest of its kind, constructed in 1984 and designed to house one hundred thousand NoM citizens. Constructed as a mega-city platform, it stands today as a testament to the failure of social policy, which resulted in the proliferation of in-fighting, religious cults, the forming of violent gangs, and the infiltration of the triads into the districts."

"In 1993, the PLA attempted to purge undesirable influences in the districts. Though initially gainful, the operation ultimately failed to dislodge the unlawful presence. In reviewing policy, the CCP realised it was a mistake to convene such a scale of citizens, especially given that the hive was equipped with food production and water purification operations. District 109 had become a microcosm, a city in a bottle with its own rules and regulations that seemed to exist almost independently from the outside world. What was initially a planned infrastructural system with the very best intentions for its citizens proved to be the very thing our party loathed—a collection of civilians who no longer embraced the ideals of Chairman Mao, blessed be he in his crystal resting place.

"Faced with mounting tension and dissidence in how to deal with the lost districts, the party formulated a new policy in 1996 under Premier Hu—leave Districts 108 to 128 to their own devices."

The lecture paused while the image drank a gulp of water. Mayuree was already asleep in Gwen's arms. Richard rested his eyes against the window.

Professor Ma continued, "It was then decided the lost districts would serve another purpose—as proving grounds for social experiments, Mage training exercises, places where samples could be collected, theories tested.

"Should a district resist, they had no way to prevent the PLA from destroying the sub-basement and thus, the entire eco-system of the hive city. When the rogue citizens ran out of food and water, the survivors would naturally return to the embrace of order and law that was Mao's vision.

"In today's terms, it may be best to think of the lost districts as penal colonies. They provided their share of conscripts—twice as high as any other districts—and pay tithes of newly Awakened Mages. In return, they received the autonomy to run their cities on the ground."

The vid-cast glitched again. Professor Ma reappeared wearing his previous vest. "Within the lost districts, you will be effectively cut off from Shanghai. Your Message devices will not work outside their natural range. In the process of completing your given tasks, there is only one thing you have to do—observe. Observe the consequences of those whose use of power is without remorse, whose abuse of Magic is without consequence.

"The residents of these cities may attack you, and you are well within your rights to respond. I urge, however, that you recall enough empathy to recognise that not all Mages and NoMs are born with the knowledge and privilege you possess, that you acknowledge how circumstance often drives action, not logic or rationality. Whatever your choices may be, I want you, as students of Fudan, as future secretariats, army officers, arbitrators and Tower Masters to evaluate how your actions, choices and decisions affect the lives of those you hold in your hands. Though you may be underground, you are not in a dungeon. These are real people with real lives, aspirations, the desire for life and living the same as you. Therefore, I wish you good luck." With that, Professor Ma's vid-cast faded.

Gwen turned to her companions, a little breathless for the warning. She was sure there was a mistake. Hadn’t Ma been supposed to say something else, like don’t murder people? You will be penalised if there's a mass murder? "Is he saying we're going to butcher people in there? Kill NoMs who attack us?"

“Nothing wrong with killing folk as a result of self-defence," Mayuree said, “Of course, we don't have to kill people."

"It's the NoMs' choice to attack us." Kitty shrugged with indifference. "It doesn't diminish my right to defend myself to the best of my abilities."

"I'll incapacitate them if need be," Richard assured Gwen as she blanched. "You'll be fine against NoMs, right? Sorceress of Lightning and Void?"

There was snickering from the front of the bus. "I don't think they know how bad the lost districts can be," a voice sneered.

"It's a dog-eat-dog world in there, beauty," one of the young men scoffed. "You're gonna have to stow your white gloves for this quest."

Kitty rolled her eyes.

Gwen ignored the others' snide remarks. She gazed out at the retreating distance as her mind lingered on the memories of Blackheath. She’d taken her first human life there, guided by Gunther's hand. He’d taken her into a world she hadn’t thought possible. That had been her first bloody step onto the Path of Asura.

Most saliently, her subsequent murder was Faceless, though he… she… it deserved it.

Then there was the pigtail girl whose name Gwen had forgotten. Would there now be another and another? The mind was willing, but the heart… she wasn't so sure anymore.

"I see it!" someone said at the front, interrupting her thoughts.

The bus had passed some threshold on the highway. The manicured trees fell away and the urbanscape again declined into dilapidation and neglect.

Gwen could see a looming wall in the distance, a barrier circuit that surrounded a block of concrete habitats rising into the air like grey mushrooms. As they came closer, precarious extensions of sheet metal and wood erupted from the facade's surface like wild fungi. The addition of laundry, far less colourful and far more numerous, made the collection of apartments appear as an amalgamated whole. From afar, the whole superstructure resembled a dark lesion across the landscape.

Painted across the gate were the Chinese pictograms for "109". Below it, a defaced red logo of the sickle and hammer and slogans promising order and civility had been scratched half-off. A smog of exhaust hung in the air, thick and miasmic, giving substance to its oppressive atmosphere.

"Struth," Gwen exclaimed. "The size of it up close…"

"Oh goddess, so that's what it was," Mayuree muttered. "The smell, I mean."

The smell was the first thing on Gwen’s mind as the bus entered the compound, where mana, miasma and human odour were so thick as to be visible.

After the students had disembarked, the driver immediately made a U-turn and left the malice-filled space of the courtyard. A troop of soldiers in dark emerald-khaki, the uniform of the PLA military police, fanned out to form a perimeter around a man in an olive uniform.

"Students of Fudan, welcome to District 109. I am the district administrator, Secretariat Choi. It is a pleasure to meet some of the best and the brightest stars of the academy."

The students lined up before the secretariat.

"We thank you for having us, sir." One of the second years bowed. Gwen and the rest followed suit. It was necessary to parallel their seniors to avoid a potential faux pas.

"Let's talk inside," Choi advised. "The external courtyard is not the safest place to linger."

As they entered the city proper, Gwen noted the grimy scraps and dusty wraps of garbage that hung in every corner of the forecourt. District 35 had gardens with flower beds! The courtyard here had puddles, potholes and spots of muck, which indicated that the filtration system below must be operating at its limits. Gwen looked up. Above, the windows were closed and curtained despite the sunny day.

As they entered the shaded avenue of the hive city, the temperature immediately dropped by four to five degrees.

"Gwennie, we're being watched by a lot of people." Mayuree's eyes glowed with the soft light of Divination.

Gwen redoubled her efforts to spot the hidden citizens above. As her pupils adjusted, she could see pale faces looking out from between the curtains and windows. Almost a thousand windows were visible from the central quadrangle that led into the heart of the city's habitat blocks, and their ambient hostility filled the air like the thrum of a wasp hive.

"There are quite a few magical signatures, too," Mayuree added, pulling her white coat tightly over her shoulders. The girl had materialised a parka to cover her upper body, hiding her enchanted attire from prying eyes. Beside her, Kitty walked closer to Mayuree. The pixie girl must be drawing quite the attention in her shorts, though her confident gait hinted at abilities that yearned to be tested.

As they walked, Gwen felt violated by the gaze of her watchers. However, when she looked at the others, she stumbled upon an epiphany. To put matters bluntly, her fellow Mages didn’t give a single shit what NoMs thought. To her elite classmates, the NoMs in these cities were akin to decor—a sort of a feature, like lesser magical creatures in a dungeon.

Ahead, their seniors kept in a group by themselves, pointing and speaking loudly to stress their uncertain bravado. Gwen empathised with their nervousness. It was one thing to read and hear about the lost districts, quite another to be walking through one.

The administrator, flanked by his guards, began a semi-guided tour as they walked and talked. "We're on the ground level," he said, "from which the basement extends fourteen levels below, tapping into a leyline that powers the filtration, water and power systems. It's been many years since the old glyphs had seen maintenance; all intentional. The city itself has CCs it could exchange, only its residents have chosen not to."

"How so?" Gwen paced beside the Mage, whose figure was short and portly.

"Autonomy means the right to make poor choices," Choi chuckled, his eyes briefly scanning her figure. "I have given the bosses, their under-bosses and the little tribes of people living here the choice of how to spend their CCs via a voting system, and guess what they spend it on?"

"Food and water?" Gwen inquired hopefully.

"Personal wealth, magic items, entertainment and HDMs for their faction's Mages!" Choi laughed. "It would take only six months of the city's output to gather enough CCs to repair the filtration system, another six months to upgrade it to the best system the PLA can offer. Who wouldn't want that? Better water, better living conditions, better health for everyone."

"But they don't?"

"Of course. That’s the distilled nature of the scum that lives here. The lost hives exist as an exemplar. We give the people here the 'democracy' touted by the west. They can vote for what they want as they will. The only proviso is that their world begins and ends at the borders of 109."

So it’s a little slice of Orwell and a little slice of Atwood, Gwen thought sullenly, horrified at the secretariat's autocratic banter. These "lost districts" were used to show the rest of Shanghai the pitfalls of not following the CCP's vision for China. Almost a million people condemned to the crucible of abject poverty to show the other ninety percent that the alternative to the Mageworld's brand of benign socialist dictatorship was an exquisite kind of capitalist hell dominated by a warped, egocentric band of ruthless buccaneers.

"Have any of the lost cities ever improved their lot?" Mayuree asked. "Maybe save themselves? Return to the fold?"

"What do you think?" Choi eyed the Diviner bemusedly with a sideways glance, evidently with less enthusiasm than he had offered Gwen.

The tour continued. "The superstructure extends across twenty-seven blocks, with an average height of forty storeys. The population is, as you can imagine, mostly NoM citizens, with roughly just under 0.02% of the population exhibiting magical potential.

"Mid-tier Mages operating within the city are mostly enforcers or gang leaders of one sort or another. As for their abilities—most of them have never seen formal training. As elites, you should have little problem dealing with them, not to mention that their priority will be avoiding you at all costs. Should they sufficiently delay you, let me know. They'll be on the next conscription shipment to the Front.

"Over there, you can see a market. Yes, it looks derelict from here, but I assure you the interior is quite lively. There are over forty public market spaces for commercial ventures, operated by the gangs and the local merchant families, who could be just as vicious as the triads."

"Which triads?" Gwen enquired. She had seen enough Hong Kong movies to have developed a cursory knowledge of triads.

"The usual—Shao-chilou, Black Dragons, Jade Tigers, Woshin, Wo-phowo, Buk-pu, so on and so on. Mostly NoM organisations with a few Mages at the top. It's nothing of concern, I assure you. They're kept in line by a triumvirate of bosses—Yi, Kha and Lam. You'll meet them soon enough. If you have questions, you can ask them yourself."

"We're meeting with triad bosses?" Gwen made a pouty "o" with her lips. Shouldn't they be fighting them? In all honesty, she had expected the quest to be "subjugate Boss X". That seemed like a perfectly reasonable request for a troop of Mages consisting of no fewer than three LCSS candidates and a bloodline Diviner.

The secretariat chuckled. "I like to think of them as my lieutenants; NCOs if you will. They're nasty people, but you need cruel and nasty managers for a place like this to run smoothly."

Is the secretariat being self-depreciative? Gwen wondered as they arrived at their destination, and the man walked forward.

The group entered a set of double doors. The interior was somehow worse than the urban decay of the exterior, with piles of garbage filling the entire corridor leading to the cargo platform. One of the PLA guards pulled on a chain and the sliding doors yawned like the maw of some toothless beast, sliding back above and below to reveal a levitation platform abused by neglect.

Accompanied by the din of grating metal, the lift took them toward the top floor. When the grated gate opened, the group entered a corridor with worn carpet in maroon, leading forward until it reached a set of mahogany double doors. The guards unlocked them and took up positions on either side.

The student Mages followed the secretariat into an open plan room with a vermillion motif. Behind a conference table sat the illuminated logo of the CCP, five stars soaring over the Forbidden Palace in red and gold.

Secretariat Choi took his seat and faced the student Mages, who stood across from their superior.

"Right, allow me to welcome you all yet again. I am Magus Choi, Secretariat of District 109 with the rank of major under the People's Liberation Army's Shanghai Division."

The second-years saluted the major. Their actions were quickly aped by Gwen and company, who snapped off dishevelled salutes with varying degrees of success.

"Per our agreement with Fudan, you will be given a quest to complete on-premises. Satisfactory completion of this request will give you five CCs per individual, though I am authorised to dispense up to twenty CCs pending your performance."

"I am at your service," Richard instantly declared, saluting crisply. "Please point us in the right direction, sir."

Gwen smiled stiffly. When it came to CCs, Richard was a bloodhound. He was still leagues away from accruing the two thousand CCs needed to bring his parents over, an epic undertaking that would likely take him until the end of his university career and beyond, even with his applied questing credits.

"That's the spirit, good man!" Choi said. "What's your name, young Mage?"

"Richard Huang, sir. Conjurer Abjurer, LCSS candidate."

"I have high expectations of you, Richard."

"Yes, sir!"

Ten points to Gryffindor! If only CCs were as easy to attain as house points. She wanted the CCs too, but she lacked the shamelessness to beg. From what she'd seen so far, the CC distribution was almost directly proportional to risk. Five CCs to start meant the danger was likely minimal. If so, what was twenty CCs for?

"What would you like us to do, sir?" Gwen enquired.

The secretariat's gaze lingered on her face. Choi reminded Gwen of an old, worldly weasel. "Your job is to help these 'democratically elected' individuals with some of their problems down in the lower stratum. We have uninvited Magical Creatures plaguing the depth, and it is your job to aid our resident representatives in achieving that endeavour. Bui, send them in."

Another set of doors opened on the far side and in came their hosts.

The first was an obese man whose eyes kindled like lit tinder as his gaze fell upon the girls in the room. His eyeballs drifted past Gwen and plastered onto the diminutive Kitty, remaining transfixed as he sauntered forward laboriously.

The second Mage was a middle-aged woman who looked like someone's heavy-handed in-law had wandered into the wrong place. From the rigidity and the stocky solidity of her stout body, she was likely an accomplished Earthen Mage.

The last man was huge—a hulking figure almost seven feet tall. He was shirtless and heavily tattooed with writing and images from either Thai or Chinese scripture. The man possessed muscles that seemed to be grafted on top of muscles, indicating his Mage-class to be a CQC Transmuter.

Secretary Choi gestured to the middle-aged soccer mom. "Mama Lam." He pointed to the half-man, half-papaya. "Mr Kha." Then to Asian Schwarzenegger. "Mr Yi."

The three bowed, first toward Secretary Choi, making a ninety-degree arch of their spine, then again toward the student Mages to a lesser degree. Once they’d straightened, three pairs of eyes licked over the students, notably Mama Lam, whose lips curled when she saw Richard. What are we, meat? Gwen thought. Then again, what had she expected? Melt away their waxed exteriors, and the city's elites would have the same naked expressions of lust and greed. Indeed, she should applaud these people for their raw, undisguised honesty.

Gwen glanced at Secretary Choi. The PLA Major was smiling happily in his chair, his eyes formed into twin elongated slits. It's a bloody game to him! Gwen realised. To the "bosses", this was a test of their allegiance and ability to hold down their followers. Choi had no use for underlings who couldn’t toe the party line. To the students, this was a test of their character, an opportunity to dip their feet in the mud.

But to Choi, they were a Goddamned reprieve from the monotony of governing this shithole!

D109 Eastern Boundary

The thrum of a Sai-Ron White Ghost quietly rested against the chipped concrete wall. As the engine plinked against the cooling air, the lone figure of Lulan Li disconnected both tires, then folded the chassis.

She placed a hand upon the still-warm engine and allowed her mana to envelop the vehicle.

Pssht!

The bike disappeared.

The large storage ring was a reward from one of her Subjugation quests in an Orange Zone, an item that made many young Mages in her Clan glower with jealousy. When she’d first demonstrated its conveniences in front of them, materialising and storing her bike—another spoil she had won—she had enjoyed watching their faces twisting with avarice.

Her favourite part of the pedantry was that her brothers-in-craft couldn't take it from her. The ring was attuned to her alone as a reward from the PLA Tower. Should she perish, her items would return to the Tower and not the Huashan Sect; thereby, their impotent jealousy provided her with endless delight.

Her one regret was that she could not give it to Kusu, who still used a medium ring filled with his implements.

Ah, my brother's daggers. Lulan gnashed her teeth as the memory once more dominated her vision. From that reminder came the thought of Gwen Song's smug face and the scene of Kusu's humiliation, of his priceless implements being swallowed. She also saw herself fleeing from Gwen Song when the red mist cleared from her head. Then there was Pei's smiling face as he told her of the "great" plan to kelp Kusu. Then her mind looped back to Gwen Song once more.

Cao! The bitch! The taste of iron filled her mouth. She had to do something. She had to make Gwen Song capitulate. She had to make her apologise to Kusu in public. She had to get Kusu's implements back. Else her brother would be weakened for years to come.

She had to make right their reputation in the Clan. She had to put the two of them back on their path.

Lulan’s eyes grew hot, invading her vision with twin circlets of Shiraz pressed against her irises. Within her petite body, the Iron Heart empowering her with supernatural strength and constitution pulsed with mystical energies.

She placed a hand on the wall. "Stone Shape!"

The transmuted concrete, rebar and all, obeyed her will and parted.

For the average Earthen Mage, rebar concrete was impossible to navigate, but not so for Lulan, for her talent with stone was empowered by an equally powerful Affinity with ferrous metal.

In front of her Transmutation-empowered body, the ferroconcrete moved aside as though it was water.

Sha… sha… sha… sha… The concrete melted away like wax, peeling back its fine sediments.

Lulan traversed the two-metre-thick barrier, moving downward through the earth, concrete and steel.

She had to hurry.

Somewhere within, her quarry had already arrived.

Chapter thirty-two

When the Red MistRolls In

Secretary Choi carefully drank his Eight-Treasure Congee. The chef at the traditional medicine branch had told him it was too potent in yang energy, but Choi enjoyed the kick and the richness of the rice broth.

"Sir, we have a breach on the Eastern Quadrant," his head of security, Bui, said, rousing his attention.

Choi continued to sip his congee with an expression of absorption.

"Suspect is female, late teens. She was seen riding a compactable bike and she owns a large storage ring. Our informants describe her as an Earthern Mage, but she could Transmute the metal within the concrete."

Choi paused.

Staff Sergeant Bui remained at attention.

"I did offer an extra twenty CCs for extra labour for our Fudan Mages, did I not, Bui?"

"You did, sir."

"And you have distributed Magister Wen's dossiers to our hot-headed gangsters?"

"I have, sir."

Choi took another sip from his soup.

"Our unexpected guest? Sir? Should I send a team to…"

The Secretariat drained the pot. "Bui, you've been with me for, what? A year now? Do you know why Fudan keeps sending their most talented Mages into this shithole? Year after year, incident after incident, casualty after casualty?"

"Experience, sir?" Bui had a dark expression. The last time Fudan had sent over a troop of Mages, they’d left behind a dozen corpses.

Choi played with the clay pot in his hands. "Bui, do you know what a Gü is?"

"Sir?"

"In Lingnan, several bloodlines of the Miao Clan remain, you know, the ones rumoured to have coupled with the Yuan-ti."

"Sir." Staff Sergeant Bui inclined his head slightly.

"They have very particular bloodline magic involving magical poison. To Awaken their junior Mages, they first create a monstrosity of supreme toxicity by placing five or six, up to a dozen, poisonous magical creatures into a poison crucible.

"Once inside, a special incantation is used to make the creatures wild with hunger. They begin to hunt and kill one another, while the crucible's magic ensures that they cannot die from wounds, only from toxicity. Yet as each creature consumes the next, it grows and grows in potency and power until one remains—one that possesses a superior venom drawn from all the others."

Bui's face paled.

"Then, they get the Awakening Mage, usually a girl and usually a virgin—don't ask me why—and they have the girl place her hand inside the jar."

"Sir?"

"The Gü bites the girl, and she either awakens as a Poison Mage or she dies, becoming a boil-covered mass of flesh consumed by the poison. Her corpse becomes so necrotic and deadly that her remains are harvested to be applied to weapons, darts, whatever have you."

"That's terrifying, sir."

Choi chuckled. "D109 is a Gü, Sergeant Bui," Choi clarified for his pale subordinate. "The entire city, infested with triads, NoMs, slavers, gangs, cults, now an unfriendly rival. What a wonderful bug pot where our student Mages can be bitten."

"But…" Seargent Bui appeared confused.

"Sergeant." Choi shook his head. "If you ask too many questions, you'll never make lieutenant."

"Sir!"

"The thing with a Gü," Choi said, "when there are so many vermin in the pot, Bui, is who would notice if we slipped in one or two more?" The secretariat cackled. "It's not every day you get sanctioned killers from the upper echelon to clean up our mess!"

Gwen stood in the cargo elevator with her companions, enduring the ancient gravitation platform's groaning and shifting as it descended toward B7.

As expected, her party was operating independently from their seniors.

"Well, what do you think?" Richard asked. As the eldest and the most experienced Adventurer, he was their de facto leader. "I want your individual opinions before we proceed."

To Gwen's surprise, Kitty was the first to speak. "Carrion Crawlers don't just appear out of nowhere. Someone's bringing them into the sub-levels, breeding them. That's my opinion. According to Aldous' Urban Bestiary, Carrion Crawlers are found among excess carrion. They should be large, between five to six feet long on average. They secrete a paralysing ooze found in their saliva and bodily fluids, paralysing the creatures they touch. Usually, they don’t prey on living beings, though if they become large enough, they are known to attack humans. Their medicinal-"

"Thank you, Kitty," Richard nodded at the pixie girl. "That was very useful. Mayuree? You wanted to say something?"

"The filtration system is made up of exchange pillars using Conjuration and Transmutation glyphs. So the Crawler could be holed up down there because of the mana-rich environment. Given enough time, a broken column could collate quite the mass of mana. At any rate, if you can get me within twenty to thirty metres of the thing, I can tell you more."

"Clairvoyance?"

Mayuree shook her head. "There’s too much interference in those rooms. I'll have to send in an Arcane Eye."

"I see. Gwen?"

Gwen had been silent the whole trip down because she had been thinking about Boss Yi since they’d left the conference room. Secretary Choi issued the edict for the purge, then Boss Yi had given them the location. The gangster had additionally informed them that filtration column B7, four to three, located in basement seven, extending to basement four, had been out of commission for almost three months. The NoMs who made a living in the sub-levels had reported seeing a giant slug of some sort, pale yellow and worm-like in appearance, lurking in the general vicinity. It had supposedly been snatching up the sick and infirm at night and dragging them back into its lair.

Watching Yi's face, though, Gwen had suspected that the big man wasn't telling the whole truth. He’d glanced at Secretary Choi's face about four to five times while they’d conversed.

To test her theory, Gwen had asked the secretariat why the PLA hadn’t sent any Mages down to investigate.

“If scum like these could do the job, what need would we have for elites like you?” The Secretariat had joked.

Unperturbed, Gwen had continued to question Boss Yi, who was forthcoming and liberal with his information, almost as if he was reading from a script. The area, he informed them, was out of their zone of control and therefore, not their responsibility. Yi controlled the west towers of the hive city, Lam controlled the east, while Kha controlled a section in the middle. Though their influence extended below the ground floor in theory, the lower levels were usually inhabited by NoMs who had lived there for generations, becoming cloistered into a kind of incestuous tribe of degenerates who had grown to love the shelter of the darkness. Ergo, they needed a third party to go down.

"Are you serious?" Gwen had demanded of the gangster.

Choi had explained with laughter that there were people like these in every hive city in the lost districts. Once a few generations had passed, such groups tended to lock themselves into a cycle of self-abuse and poverty.

One time, the PLA tried to root them out, to help the fallen citizens of D118 back into normalcy. Instead, the under-folk had chosen to immolate themselves, destroying three levels of the lower strata, trapping close to four thousand souls in a boiling hell of choking miasma before the Tower Mages had moved in and purged the whole section.

"A lost district within a lost district, hilarious, no? Microcosms within microcosms. A crucible for the human condition." Choi appeared in love with the elegance of his Chinese prose. He had then told her that since the incident, the PLA rotated lower strata citizens by lottery, elevating families to the surface levels, sometimes even the mid-levels, to offset any desire for entrenchment into the sub-basement. Families who resisted the benevolence of their autocratic leaders simply disappeared, evaporated, moved away. But no such systems existed within the lost districts.

"In my opinion, there are bigger problems down there than a loose Crawler, that's for sure," Gwen said. "Boss Yi told us a lot—where it is, what it is, what we should be expecting. But he averted every question as to how it got there, where it came from."

She felt herself shiver at the memory of Blackheath. "Let's say I’m being paranoid. It’s entirely possible it spawned due to an abundance of magic or a tear in the Prime Material. It still means that something is creating carrion down there.

"I doubt this place can afford to waste food. Crawlers are omnivores, but they feed on necrotic flesh, right? There's no agricultural industry here. There's a protein farm, but that barely keeps up with demand, which leaves us with an unpleasant prospect. Someone is making carrion and dumping bodies. Someone is rearing these things intentionally. Yet our quest is just to kill one of these things—a specific creature in the location Yi gave. What do you guys suppose that implies?"

"Eww," Mayuree said. "They're hatching targets for us to kill?"

"That's my theory, anyway," Gwen said. "Additionally, I’m not sure what the other twenty CCs are for."

"Maybe we’ll run into more than one Crawler?" Mayuree asked.

"Or other trouble," Richard said. "The Crawler's five CCs. What do you suppose could be worth twenty?"

The party members regarded one another.

"Let's keep an eye out," Richard said. "We have to go through B7's residential zone first. Eyes wide open. Mayuree, we're in your safe hands. I'll take the point. Kitty's on second. Mayuree's third. Gwen, bring up the rear."

"Detect Magic! Detect Invisibility! Detect Poison! Detect Trap!" Mayuree launched into a dazzling array of self-buffs as the lift slowed and finally stopped.

"Lea!" Richard's giggling Undine appeared in mid-air, half-clad in water. Kitty's eyes enlarged with evident longing. "Lea, can you keep watch as well? Mayuree takes precedence. She has the weakest shield."

Lea inclined her head haughtily, shot Kitty a snide glance with her pale blue orbs, then shimmered, before becoming invisible. As a high-ranked spirit and a demi-fey, she possessed both Flight and Invisibility at will. Richard had once joked that he could have Lea hold him up and pretend instead of learning Flight himself.

The cargo lift opened and suddenly, Fudan's darlings were in the middle of basement B-7.

"Mistress Zalaam, they should be arriving. As you suspected, they're headed for the area where Yi asked us to plant the Crawler."

"Shukraan, Sui, tell the others to be wary of the tall girl's Void spells. Get the handlers to send in the Crawlers first. Remember, I need her alive. The others don't matter."

"I shall endeavour to keep them all alive for you, Mistress." The woman known as Sui replied humbly.

"Where's Zuyao now?"

"He was last seen proceeding through the western sewers, Mistress. The passage there should be safe until the rains hit."

Nephres nodded with satisfaction. Everything was going smoothly so far. Her messenger to the organisation was safely away. The trap-within-a-trap was set and her naive lover had unknowingly sent the student Mages her way. Best of all, when it happened—and it would happen—the blame would fall on Boss Yi. The aftermath of losing Gwen would also bring down that conniving Choi, the PLA hound guarding this place. Perfection.

She rechecked the dossiers. Richard Huang—Water—Abjuration-Conjuration. His parents were not even citizens—a true nobody. Mayuree. There was no last name, nothing on the girl other than her role as a Diviner. Kitty Liang—Ice—Evoker-Transmuter, a sponsored Mage from the House of M. The girl could be problematic, but her talent also made her a prize.

As for the senior Fudan students, Lam had sent them elsewhere.

Nephres had hoped the reports would be more detailed, but this wasn't the Frontier. Here they couldn't work their numbers into the stratum of the administration. Nephres recalled that her mistress had mentioned that Faceless was dead. The loss of the shapeshifter had been a significant blow to the organisation, for the creature had many identities that remained untapped. Nephres wondered if Faceless had been unique or if her mistress had more doppelgängers under her command. When they’d met, she was sure Faceless had resembled the result of some infernal Conjuration, some nightmare made flesh, like in the Odes of the Abyssian from Egypt's legends, borrowing the skin of loved ones to fuel their malevolent desires.

She thumbed the papers once more and felt her nerves fray. It wasn't a foretelling Divination, but she felt the unshakable buzz of peril. Call it instinct, perhaps, or a woman's intuition. Trusting her feelings, she had enjoyed an outstanding track record of escaping harm so far.

Once more, her eyes fell upon Gwen Song's dossier. She would have to be extra careful with the girl in transit. It wouldn't do to have what happened to Edgar happen to her. Perhaps a drug? Or maybe a stasis unit. Yes. A stasis unit would be safest. Nephres smirked. The girl would look lovely hog-tied and placed in a stasis unit.

In front of her, Sui still waited patiently for the mistress' orders.

"Sui." Nephres' voice was the promise of milk and honey. "Go, I want you to oversee the operation personally. May Anubis guide you."

Her servant touched her forehead to the ground and kissed Nephres' feet. "I will do as you command, Mistress."

Nephres reached down with a finger to feel the softness of Sui's lips. She wondered if her faraway Mistress of the Void ever missed her company. How beautiful her mistress could be! Unlike her honeyed skin, the mistress's complexion was always pale and flawless and cold, as though Nephres was touching her warm lips to hoarfrost.

Hopefully, with this redemption, she would be seeing her mistress soon.

While she waited for her mana to recharge, Lulan Li began to have second thoughts.

She’d travelled all this way out of the CBD because there was no opportunity to confront the Void Sorceress within the PLA Tower's public domain and Gwen Song was a power progeny connected to the PLA. She was the dean's favourite, and she was protected by more than one Magister from the university—a true heir of nepotism.

If Lulan challenged her within the teleportation range of the Tower, even assuming she succeeded in humiliating the girl, there would be hell to pay for her sect. But in the lost districts, she could fight her fair and square. Lulan could issue a challenge, and they would fight. There were no Magisters here to interfere.

That was what Lulan had thought at first, at least when the red mist came down. But now the mist had thinned, and gone was the zeal that had compelled her to traverse Fourth Orbital Highway to District 109.

Should I return? a voice of reason whispered faintly in the dark.

No. NO! She needed to show Gwen Song the difference in their power. Maybe then she would realise the error of her ways and return Kusu's daggers, or at least offer reparations if she had destroyed them. Mao! She wanted to smash the girl's pretty face inward.

Somewhere at the back of Lulan's head buzzed the idea that all of this was folly, that she was going to make things worse or make a fool of herself, but each time that thought surfaced, it was overridden by a scene of Gwen Song standing over Kusu's unmoving body.

She thought of Uncle Kwon screaming. She thought of Pei giving them that smirk that he always affected. She thought of her father shaking his head and saying they took after their mother. She thought of Patriarch Li slapping their father on the back approvingly, then turning to Kusu with disapproving eyes.

Her bruised cheek burned.

Her jaws ached.

Her blood was up before she knew it. The red mist came on as dense as iron. It always felt the most potent when using her sect's unique talent.

Again, Lulan found her body in motion before she could think clearly. Brother had told her that it was the yang energy. The more proficient she became with the Iron Sword technique, the more she was prone to these episodes.

After some time and some indiscriminate destruction, her mana once more needed recharging. While holding an HDM, Lulan became aware of her surroundings once more.

She was in one of those warren-like corridors in the lower strata. She was sure that this was still building three. Assuming Gwen and her friends had gone to the central area, she needed to find building ten or eleven. Comparing the appearance of the strata from her previous visits to the triple-digit districts, Lulan estimated that Gwen's party should be in basement two. The concrete layer between the levels shouldn't be nearly as thick past the foundation.

Her eyes scanned the corridor. She was being watched.

"You!" Lulan broke her trance and strode toward an adjacent door, where a face quickly disappeared behind a shoddy wooden door. "Come out!" It only took her a second to approach the barrier. As she arrived, there was the sound of a bar sliding into place.

She turned to the next door. Her eyes met something dark in the dimness of the corridor. "Dark Vision!”

A quick self-buff and she was staring down a corridor a hundred metres deep and filled with just as many pairs of eyes staring at her with a mixture of fright and curiosity. However, they shrank behind their barriers whenever they saw her face and slammed closed their iron-wrought door. As her scarlet orbs swept across the darkness, the sound of doors closing ricocheted down the corridor until it turned from her view.

How do these people see in the dark? Lulan felt equally impressed and disturbed by the acute timidity of the undercity's denizens. She knocked on a few more doors, to no avail.

She resisted the urge to kick down the door. It was better to play it safe in a place like this. There was an ambient sense of hostility in the air that made her scalp crawl, and the stank of acrid ammonia caused her eyes to water.

"Iron Skin!" Her complexion took on the colour of rust. Where her fingers touched the rough walls, it raked and chipped the surface.

Building eleven was northward. Maybe she could find someone deeper in who could tell her where the Fudan party had gone. She sauntered down the twisting passageway, her footfalls heavy against the pavement like the beating of a telltale heart.

Abruptly, her progress was interrupted by the scraping and screeching of floating platforms moving in the distance. There! Lulan's heart soared. In the districts, movement between the layers was rarely undertaken by the magically-operated lifts. Only important guests, outsiders and the building's administrators used the platform. "Haste!"

Lulan shot down the corridor, barging past the trash and the debris strewn across every surface. There were barricades too, but she ploughed past those with a single swing of her Conjure Blade.

"Stone Shaping Strike!" The concrete walls parted.

An NoM family stared at the Transmuter, mouth open, as she appeared in their room, shattering their dinner table, then she was gone with the next Misty Step.

A dozen ruined homes later, Lulan could no longer hear the lift. She became faintly aware as she ascended into the deeper levels of the east wing that there was a great deal of groaning and moaning happening somewhere above her. The noise wasn't the groaning associated with stressed metal, a sound she knew well. There was also the tinnitus wail of those weeping in despair.

Lulan grimaced. She must have missed a critical turn. She knew there were whorehouses in the districts. She wasn't that innocent. But as fitting as it would have been for Gwen Song to inhabit one, Lulan wasn't going to find her there.

The lift had been going down.

Lulan had run quests in the districts before and knew that it wasn't unusual for creatures to spawn in the magic-dense spaces below, no matter the warding put up by the Enchanters. From the lay of the strata around her, she could infer that somewhere below was a centre line that ran from one side of the superstructure to another, usually used by maintenance crews to access suppression systems or the underlying plumbing quickly.

"Stone Shaping Strike!"

The concrete parted.

Lulan descended.

When she broke past a concrete barrier into what she hoped was B3, she appeared to have fallen into what seemed to be someone's home, raising a cloud of dust and debris. She was in a cubical hollowed out from what had once been a tiny tunnel, padded and built up with salvaged wooden planks and painted over with what appeared to be tar. The resulting construct was a "room" with a door, and she had sliced through the roof and was standing in the abode of whoever owned this place.

The door in front of Lu opened, revealing the filthiest man she had ever seen. There was a sort of encrusted grime on him that had almost become a part of his skin, making him appear more southern than his Han facial structure first suggested. His clothes were likewise filthy, layers of unwashed stink piled upon one another until they were almost fused into a sort of cloth armour.

She felt immediately ill.

As the man opened his mouth to speak, a foulness Lulan dared not believe possible assailed her nostrils.

"Eh? How did a beauty like you get in here? You from Madam Lam? Wocao! My house!"

"Shut up!" Lulan hissed. Madam Lam? The man thought she was a whore? The nerve!

"Me, shut up?! Who the fuck do you think you are, eh? Sha-bi! You want to fucking die?’ Unafraid, the filthy creature hurled a torrent of abuse at her.

Lulan had never been treated this way in her life. Not even the elders spoke to her like this when they beat her for insubordination.

Perhaps taking her timidness to mean she was afraid and helpless, the man came closer, made more brazen by the fact that she was a girl. Inexplicably, Lulan grew conscious of her leather pants and her simple white singlet. Against her exposed skin, the man's gaze felt like slathered paint.

Did he not recognise that she was a Sorceress? Shouldn't he flee for his life? Wasn't someone like her a deity-like existence for these denizens of the deep? She might be covered in dust and grime, her clothes soiled by passage through the ceiling, but hadn't she broken into his house by rending the concrete?

Lulan almost retched when the man reached out with scaly fingers, his parched lips dividing to reveal rotten teeth. The redolence was so ripe as to make her dizzy with disgust.

The mana inside her exploded. "Conjure Sword!"

From a torn slit between the Elemental Plane of Earth and the Prime Material Plane, an iron slab burst forth in the rough shape of a poorly smithed sword. As it slid forward, the metal crashed into the body of the tramp, punching through flesh and bone with the ease of a stiff finger of reprimand piercing a sodden strip of tissue paper. There was a sound of crunching bone, wet and sudden, as the weight of the blade was freed, dipping forward and smashing tip-first into the concrete floor, cracking the pavement.

Several inches into the concrete, it stuck there, embedded into the floor, singing a song of violence. Behind its rusty edge, guts and viscera cascaded over the singularly shattered rebar slab, splattering and splashing with a grotesque cacophony.

The man's door remained ajar, hanging from a nail. A dozen pairs of blood-rimmed eyes stared in horror inside their companion's abode, their mouths parted in terror.

"Monster!" someone screamed.

"Find the boss!"

"Block her in! Don't let her escape!"

"YAAAAA!"

Discondordant noise abruptly filled the shack-strewn corridor of access tunnel B-7, the sound of clattering feet, screaming voices, beating sheets of galvanised iron, women's hysteria, men crying blue murder, every noise in the world filled the echoic space of the tunnel's circumference.

To Lulan, it felt as though the world had suddenly gone insane. Why couldn't these NoMs just shut the fuck up? How was she going to find Gwen Song in all this chaos?!

Her face felt sick with filth. There was a sudden taste of iron on her tongue, as well as Mao knew what else had inside the man.

The red mist descended with a vengeance.

Chapter thirty-three

Blood and Guts

Basement level B7

Market Quarter

Gwen had expected a scene from the undercity of Fritz Lang's Metropolis. What she saw was a Saturday bazaar from Market City in Sydney relocated into a tunnel network, inundated with customers and traders.

Originally built to move heavy equipment, the tunnels were impressive in height, with a diameter of close to seven metres. Criss-crossing passageways served as junctions where assorted shops and stands stood, populated with people who stared at Gwen and company with grinning faces.

"Nihao! The boss said yer was coming," a greasy fellow with an indistinct face hidden behind grease and grime hailed them. It was impossible to tell if their guide was man or Goblin, but given the time and place, Gwen gave him the benefit of the doubt. "Come this way, Mister and Missus Bosses."

She wrinkled her nose. There was a faint smell of sewerage, musky human sweat, and pressed body odour that hung oppressively in the air. Thankfully, the Mages had come prepared for such a thing. A little Prestidigitation on their attire, and mundane foul odours could be held at bay.

Health aside, the NoMs here had been supremely industrious, with wooden structures piled six-deep against sides of the tunnels and even hanging from the ceiling, defying gravity. Glimmering Light spells in lanterns hung from every surface of these structures, painting the scene with vivid hues of soft ambience that played softly through the smoke and steam.

The stench aside, the B7 Market ward was strangely aesthetic—a far cry from the urban decay of Blackheath. It felt as though the people there had decided that since the upper tiers were out of reach, they may as well make life tolerable, feasible, worth living, rather than fall into the sort of abject purposelessness she'd seen in ghettos elsewhere.

To her old-world sensibilities, the under-slums here felt more Mumbai than Calcutta, especially the heartache of the Shibpur District that Gwen had regretted touring.

"Stick close," Richard advised. "If you have to move around an obstacle, move no more than four metres from my side."

"As expected, there are Mages here," Mayuree said. "One low-level mana signature at two o'clock."

"I see them," Kitty whispered.

"Don't look," Mayuree advised.

"Lea," Richard said softly. "Greet our friend."

Something invisible moved through the space above the Mages as the students followed their guide further into the markets. Around them, the residents seemed nervous, alternating between wanting to gawk at the girls, and being too afraid to raise their heads in case the subjects of their curiosity grew wrathful.

Gwen once again applauded her foresight of earth pastel and pants, wondering if Kitty's free fashion was a symptom of her naive decision-making back in Blackheath.

Of course, Mayuree's garb, though not flashy or suggestive, was the most attention-seeking. Unlike Gwen, Richard and Kitty, she didn't have a single spec or splash of mud or dirt on her. In a place where magic items were as scarce as hen's teeth, it would be evident to the keen public that her attire was magically enchanted from head to toe. Gwen wondered if any NoMs would be unwise enough to risk life and limb for potentially enough HDMs to feed their family for the next decade or two. Next time, the team would have to coordinate outfits to appear less like a touring band and more like working Mages.

When they passed a particular junction with a delicious smell, Gwen was drawn to the sound of sizzling fat. She soon caught sight of the source—slabs of mystery meat on skewers, smoking over charcoal.

"What is that?" Mayuree enquired as the party came closer.

"Looks like…" Gwen moved to block her view because her eyes had caught the origin of the mystery skewer.

An old cook, grinning happily at her, reached into a cage and produced what must be a mole of some sort, or a rat, or a gerbil, Gwen couldn't tell in the dim light. With a deft swing of something like a switchblade, he gutted the squealing thing, threw its offal into a bowl, then used a three-pronged iron skewer to crucify the carcass so that it looked as though the hamster was being propped up like a sock-puppet.

With the lemming's adorable face frozen in stunned disembowelment, the man flashed it over the charcoal. Its fur fell away, revealing a rapidly crisping body of pink flesh sizzling with fat.

"Hey, beauty! Free for you." The man offered the visiting Mages a free sampler—generous because nothing was free in the undercity, least of all food.

Mayuree looked as though she would faint right there and had to be supported by Kitty.

If Gwen had still been her Sydney self, she would have battered the skewer away. After almost half a year in Shanghai, though, she was a veteran culinary traveller, seasoned in outlandish gastronomical ventures from China and beyond.

Seeing that she was not averse, the man heavily seasoned the greasy prize and spun it until its flesh was al dente—chewy but still tender.

Gwen took the skewer and thanked the man. What had Magister Wen said? She was immune to all mundane diseases and infections, right?

Watched by her companions, she took a bite.

"Tastes like chicken." Gwen chewed. "Hmm, a little slimy, but satisfying. I'd call it an acquired taste. The spice tastes a little like cumin and pecan, with a delightful crunch. You'll learn to like it, I’m sure."

Her friends declined her offer.

As they passed, the seller began to holler. "Best rat! Best rat in B7! Mage and Sorceress Approved! Get your rats here! JUICY RATS! FRESH! Fifty MSK!"

The party soon passed another stack of shacks.

"Oh, Jesus." Gwen heard the moaning before the spectacle sullied their eyes. "Mayuree, cover your eyes."

"I am older than you," Mayuree snapped at Gwen, she must have realised way ahead of her companion what lay ahead. "You've never even had a boyfriend. Shouldn't you be covering your eyes?"

It was only reasonable that the oldest profession in the world would thrive in a place where human life was cheap and abundant. Their first sight of the four-storey abode of negotiable affection came in the form of a diaphanously dressed woman who waved at them, her sensuous flesh undulating passionately as the Mages rounded the corner. Richard's eyes lingered for a few appreciative moments, then moved on. Mayuree, however, stared at the flapping flesh with her lips parted in frustration.

"Utter madness," she muttered to Gwen. "Monstrous. Monstrous, I say!"

As the group passed the brothel, the door opened to reveal an intoxicated patron whose eyes lustily fell upon Gwen's party. "You young ladies new?" he blurted out before one of the working girls could drag him back in.

The space around the patron grew as his adrenaline banished the alcohol. "Cao! S-sorry. Please forgive me, Master Mages." He fell to his knees, covering himself in the silt of grim and wastewater, slamming his head against the ground.

Gwen had a mind to stop her companions from acting out unnecessarily, but there was no need. Kitty, who had been about to throw a Bolt at the intoxicated NoM, shook her head with disgust before pushing Mayuree ahead of her.

The group moved on.

"We're close," their guide stated, taking no heed of the commotion. "The filtration section is just up ahead."

"How are our guests?" Gwen whispered to Richard, taking advantage of the distraction to check up on their watchers.

"Following rather inexpertly through the crowd. I’ve spotted at least three. Lea says there's four."

"Six." Mayuree's voice rang beside their ears. As a middle-tier Diviner, she could utilise Mass Messages with silent options at will, functioning as a mobile Divination Tower. "You guys have no idea how easy it is to spot Mages in a place with virtually all NoMs."

"Are they after our party?" Gwen asked.

"Looks like it," Mayuree reported. "They're convening and talking about us. Wanna hear?"

"You're serious?" Gwen interjected. "You can—"

"Clairvoyance or Scry, take your pick."

"What's more discreet?" Richard laughed.

"Clairvoyance. I’m casting it now. Keep moving."

As the group continued to move, Mayuree opened a second channel in her Message array.

"Status report."

"Almost at the entrance."

"What's team two doing?"

"On standby. Near the target."

"Waiting on them."

"Is it true they doubled the fee?"

"Yeah, triple for if they're alive."

"They're from Fudan, though."

"If they resist…"

"I like the tall one."

"We should kill the guy. The girls we can keep around."

"As if. Nephres is moving out the merchandise immediately."

"I don't know. Fudan has powerful people up top."

"Go home then. I wonder what Nephres will think of your cowardice."

"We can buy enough food for half a year if this succeeds."

"Slavers or robbers or triad," Gwen stated coldly, her voice harmonised by Mayuree into their Silent Message array. "I've dealt with them before. They regularly abduct the local Neophytes who Awaken, and sell them as parts or merchandise. Sometimes, they find someone with a rarer talent and they get a little ambitious."

"How daring." Kitty frowned, likewise sceptical. "Marong would kill every man, woman and child here if something were to happen to Mia. Hell, I would do it too if they dared lay a hand on her."

"Let's not go that far." Gwen's scalp crawled at Kitty's nonchalance. "It's not like the citizens here are trying to harm us."

"The NoMs are in on it too," Kitty said. "Why do you think this area is so prosperous? Where do they get the money for the mana? The water? The food? The wood? You think they can mine for crystals here?"

"A third power then? An outside party?" Richard asked. "We met the bosses upstairs, right? They would be knee-deep in shit if they tried to impede or harm us. Secretariat Choi would skin them alive."

"Boss Yi is playing both sides, then? Do you think Secretary Choi knows?"

"Choi did offer twenty CCs for… something else," Richard said thoughtfully, then shook his head. "No, this is too stupid. It's just not worth it. I could solo these guys. With the four of us, they wouldn't even last five spell exchanges."

"Shush!" Mayuree said. "Something's happening. Two guys just came down another tunnel. They're saying something."

"Fuck. We need help. Some crazy biaozi is carving the place up on B2."

"Impossible. How did the girl get in? Is she triad?"

"They're getting too close to the target site. Mistress says the Fudan Mages take top priority."

"Fine, take Liu to intercept. We're proceeding to the original meeting point."

"We don't have enough people!"

"Tell the NoMs to go."

"They are spell fodder."

"Leave them. Nephres said she'll take care of it. We have a job."

"No! We need at least another two teams. Send me Lu! That bitch killed Lin and Pan already! She—"

"Shut up. Don't make a scene."

"S-Sorry! It's just that—"

"What do you think?" Mayuree asked her companions.

"Well, I am personally a big fan of ambushes. Especially reverse-ambushes." Richard grinned. "Gwen?"

"Let's see what they have in store for us first, shall we? Mia, how far can you Scry?"

"Not very far if I've never been there. I can send out an Arcane Eye. We'll see everything, but it'll take longer."

"Any chance we might get detected?"

"None. I don't sense a Diviner near. There are also no Divination Relays in here, by the way, no Message devices either. I am routing your Message spells through my sigil with a Silent Spell suffix applied. I don't think their Mages can talk to each other except face to face."

"Poor sods," Gwen said.

"Alright." Richard cracked his neck. "Say, reckon some of those CCs could be for busting a slaver's syndicate?"

The rest of the party chuckled. Even Kitty smiled.

"Can you contact our seniors going to the west section?" Gwen asked.

"Too far," Mayuree replied. "We're too deep."

"Let's hope for the best then." Gwen thought that bringing along a bloodline Diviner like Mayuree was cheating. Mia might lack damage, defence and buffing, but her omniscient intelligence made up for raw power tenfold. To know one's enemy’s progress, locations and tactics, even listen in on their planning sessions? Insanity!

Ahead, their hired guide glanced behind as the student Mages conversed silently, occasionally grinning foolishly. Gwen noticed the man smirking. Whatever their plan might be, she would soon be a part of it.

Nephres was not a happy woman.

Moments ago, her NoM scouts had reported that Gwen Song was physically progressing toward the trap they’d laid for the Fudan Mages. Then, one of her backup crew just informed her that a third Fudan party had barged in.

“Mistress, the intruder is a lone-wolf Transmuter from Fudan making her way towards Gwen Song's party,” the scout had spluttered between half-choked breaths. “The forward squads believe the girl is trying to reconvene with her companions, only now she’s butchering the town!”

The man also reported that the Transmuter had freaked out when confronted by some of the undercity's less than savoury residents, who had mistaken her for a whore from Madam Lam’s. Now, she was hacking her way through the natives like a red-hot knife through rancid butter.

Usually, Nephres wouldn't care—the NoMs could all die tomorrow from a Cloud Kill and she wouldn't shed a tear. But she couldn't allow anything to interfere with her grand plan of ascension. Nephres wanted to return to her mistress' side or at least not be stationed at a place as run down and filthy as the lost districts. Therefore, Gwen Song was a God-given opportunity she could not afford to pass up.

Nephres arrived at the B5 guardhouse with her bodyguards in tow—a Senior Evoker and Sui, who was an Earthen Transmuter; invaluable for a place with so much concrete.

"How's it looking?" She asked a bloodied survivor.

She could smell the stench of blood even before she entered. Inside were a dozen mangled bodies, alive but groaning. Nephres clicked her tongue. "Tell me what's happening."

One of the Mages spat out a mouthful of clotted blood onto the floor. "S-She came through the vents on B4, just fell right on top of us. I don't know who she is, but her spells look like Signature spells from sword sects. She conjures iron slabs, which she uses to attack up close and at a range. The damned things block projectile spells as well."

Nephres disliked the anxiety building in her chest. She hated fighting bloodline Mages, whose abilities were always outside the reasonable scope of easy solutions. "What is she, a Magus? A Magister?"

"Her destructive potential is Magus level." The man winced, then persisted in coughing up more blood. "Shit, the healing potion was subpar. Cao! Mao-damned local injectors!"

Nephres sighed. There was no helping it. "Mass Cure Light Wounds!" As much as she loathed helping these useless meat bags, they were still valuable. With a simple chant, she suffused the surrounding space with Positive Energy, causing jolts of emerald mana to seek out their targets within the spell's range, restoring the wounded Mages.

Slowly, the fresher wounds closed, bloody stumps grew staunched and the pain ceased.

"Thank you, Boss."

"Thank you."

"Mistress, you've saved my pi-gu!"

Words of praise from trash such as these meant little to Nephres, who took their compliments with a smile. "I hope you're not just throwing yourselves at her like roasted lemmings. Where is she now?"

Nephres received her answer in the form of a crashing cacophony close enough to be audible.

"Is there a vantage point we can see from?" she asked. Not having access to Divination was a pain. Diviners in the lost districts were a taboo that Secretary Choi enforced with an iron hand, and when the iron fist of the CCP descended, it seldom landed without splashing blood.

"Yes, Missus Boss. This way."

Nephres followed the street Mage until they were at the service tunnels caught between B4 and 5. Closer, the sounds of something dull and iron striking concrete became more prominent as they approached their destination. At the next junction, Nephres saw first-hand the scene of the intruder's butchery, filtered through slitted vents corroded by the acrid air.

Below the vent, she saw a lone, female Sword Mage, soloing Nephres’ Mage team. The Clanner wore a stained white singlet and what looked like biker's leathers, which seemed to be enchanted against wear and tear. Her hair was wet with gore, her twin irises concentric rings of rusty red. From the way she swung the heavy iron blade through the air without a care, the girl seemed not entirely conscious of her actions.

Nephres made a note of her strange demeanour. The girl reminded her a little of the infamous blade dancers from the Temple of the Jackal God back in her homeland. Those women could manifest themselves as engines of whirling destruction, aided by their faith in the Jackal-headed and a potion that momentarily took away pain and fear while inducing a sublime euphoria.

With a deft swing of a hand or her arm, the Sword Mage summoned a massive chunk of rusted metal roughly in the shape of a sword but more akin to an oxidised slab of rough-hewn metal.

"Broad Strike! Thrust! Sweep!”

CLUNG!

As an experienced Healer, Nephres could use a clerical form of Detect Magic for medical diagnosis. From what she could see, the girl's conduits were a mess. Observing the mass of rusty mana swelling about her person, Nephres could see that the Sword Mage had a catalyst agent embedded into her chest, infused with her body.

Interesting. Another potential treasure to be unearthed. Body-changing techniques that messed with the mana channels a Mage naturally developed were ancient and rare. The girl would make an exceptional specimen, dead or alive.

Not far from the girl, Nephres' Abjurer was holding her off with Walls and Shields, sending the Sword Mage into a frenzy of futile frustration. They were trying to tire her out! Nephres sighed with appreciation. What faithful employees. Even risking their lives, her minions were thinking of the bottom line.

Then the Sword Mage began to holler. "GWEN SONG! WHERE ARE YOU? COME OUT, YOU BITCH! STOP HIDING!"

The girl's cries reverberated through the lower levels, ricocheting off the walls with a metallic jangle.

"ARRRRGH!" She hurled a length of iron toward one of the Abjurers, striking the Earthen Shield with such force that it penetrated the exterior and would have crushed the Mage cocooned within had the Sorceress been sufficiently lucid to direct her aim.

Merciful Jackal! Nephres exhaled. What a brute!

Her Mages weren't the likes of those in Fudan—they were independents who’d attained tier three and four without instructions from caring elders or wise lecturers. As a result, their spells lacked speed and finesse, but their mastery was more pragmatic and practical.

Clung!

Clang!

Across the service tunnel, the Sword Mage continued to swing tirelessly. Nephres watched the girl hammer away like a blacksmith, her mana barely diminishing. They were certainly not going to subdue her at this rate. But such a temper! Had Gwen Song murdered the girl's father or something? Nephres hoped for a more coherent narrative. The girl's killing intent was so overpowering that she could taste iron on the tip of her tongue.

"Oi, you!" Nephres turned to the Mage who had summoned her and shot the young man a look of contempt and displeasure. "Does that look like someone who's the Fudan party's ally, you idiot?" she snapped at the terrified Mage. The problem with these lost district Mages was that they were effectively magically-empowered imbeciles.

"She wasn't screaming like a psycho before," The man said.

Nephres turned back to the girl. "How long has this been going on?"

"Almost an hour now, Missus Boss."

Nephres returned to the scene below contemplatively. The problem was that if they were wasting personnel keeping this girl in check, who could guarantee that the operation in B7 would be appropriately provisioned? As a seasoned slaver, she was experienced enough to know that these progenies of the powerful always had some trick up their sleeve—mostly contingency rings. Potentially, they could have scrolls of higher magic, triggered magic items or even means to summon extra-dimensional creatures. The only way to suppress them was through an ambush. To do that, she had to be personally present; there were no other Mages in the city with the relevant talent to keep her Mages and her Carrion Beasts topped up.

"Send a runner down there. Tell them to hold their position until we engage the Fudan students. If our psycho-killer wants Gwen Song so badly, we're going to bring her a gift. Make sure our handlers are well-hidden. They’re not to reveal themselves without my express say so."

Her runner bolted at once. Nephres stayed to watch the girl for a few more minutes. There was a trail of blood leading away from the Sword Mage and toward the dark recesses of the B4 complex. From the viscera that splattered the walls, it was evident that the girl was accustomed to the sight of blood; an average student Mage would have lost their nerve upon seeing so much fresh offal. Indeed, not even Nephres was immune to the sight of such coagulant gore.

Sometimes a well-flung intestine tract could stretch for six to seven metres. Then there was the stench of ruptured stomach acid and shit, none of which was what a Mage from a walled garden could endure.

For now, she was confident that between Sui's Transmutation and Liu's Abjuration, they could lead the girl down two more levels toward the target zone. Then, all they had to do was wait for Gwen Song's party to arrive, then they could send this Sword Mage blasting down the tunnels in a red-eyed rampage.

Nephres allowed a smile to touch her lips, happy that things were once more traversing according to plan.

Chapter thirty-four

Hesitation at the Threshold

“The filtration section begins just ahead." Their guide bowed, moving aside to reveal the gnarly entrance. "This is where I must leave you."

Richard turned to Mayuree. Since their arrival, their Diviner extraordinaire had continued to empower their Silent Message array. From an outsider's perspective, it looked as though the Mages were moving their mouths and mumbling inaudible murmurs.

"How does it look?" Richard asked.

"Got a spotter, seven o'clock, creeping in the ducting. There are probably other spotters, but if they're NoMs, I can't detect them."

"How are they communicating?"

"Message runners, from the looks of it. The mana signature registers as barely tier one in Transmutation. I’m guessing he knows a few enhancement spells, probably Expeditious Retreat."

"How does it look up ahead?" Richard asked. "In the filtration chambers."

Mayuree squinted. "Sorry, Richard. I can't tell. The entire segment is lit up with too much residue mana of all sorts. It's like a solid block of illumination four storeys high, going on for about six to seven blocks.’

Amazed by Mayuree's skill, Gwen wondered if she too could one day attain the sort of proficiency Mayuree had shown, feeling such pride that she wanted to squeeze Mayuree's haughty cheeks.

When their eyes met, Mayuree explained that her Greater Detect Magic could distinguish the presence of other Mages up to a hundred metres away, assuming a clear LOS, and through walls, about twenty or so. Outside the staple spell, she could scout ahead with a magical eye or use her powers to listen in on the conversation of people they could see. Furthermore, given time and preparation, combinations of spells such as Scry and Clairvoyance, combined with Locate Creature or Track, also brought new possibilities.

To a laywoman like herself, Mia was an intelligence service equipped with all the right tools and could foretell danger should anything escape her notice. Unlike Gwen's mediocre senses, Mayuree could also pinpoint the direction of the threat as well as gain an understanding of the chronology of events to come.

Gwen could scarcely believe that this was the same girl who’d gone from awake to asleep in Management within thirty seconds of Professor Ma opening his mouth!

"It would be nice if we had Tao here," Richard noted with a wry smile. "He could send a team up ahead."

Mr Wang would probably burst into tears if he heard that, Gwen mused. Tao Wang—wanted and valuable. Aunt Nen might just burst into tears.

"Mister and Missus Bosses?" Their guide craned his neck. "I leave you now, okay?"

"Thank you. You may go now."

They watched their guide leave. It was impossible to tell if the man was doing his job, leading them to a trap or both.

The party turned to the bulkhead that led into the filtration section of B7. The excess mana that leaked from the area meant that there were unlikely to be NoMs within. Non-magically aligned humans could live in highly magically charged environments but seldom chose to, as quasi-magical diseases and parasites made short work of NoMs lacking the means to defend themselves.

At the entrance, Richard incanted the codified glyph the secretariat had given them. The door unlocked with a rusty Clang of mechanisms moving out of and into place. Next, a secondary set of banded-iron gates swung open, revealing interchanging nodes of light and darkness where decades-old Light glyphs struggled against disrepair. The Lost Districts followed the adage of never fixing things that were not broken, which meant maintenance was a rare bird in the depth.

"Arcane Eye!" Mayuree said, creating an all-seeing eye of Divination capable of piercing illusions and seeing in the dark. The "eye" itself was invisible as it shot forward, feeding the Diviner with borrowed sight. The spell was notoriously difficult to exercise, as it forced the user to perceive a two-hundred-and-seventy-degree field of view that was disorienting in the extreme, especially in motion.

While Gwen exercised her imagination, Mayuree scanned the closest few rooms and the corridors, reporting that they were unexpectedly free of any Crawlers. When she skimmed the ground closer with her Arcane Eye, however, she spotted a trail of viscous, snot-like slime. Mayuree held her breath unconsciously, told the others, then followed the clues.

"What's wrong?" Gwen asked after a few seconds.

"I found the creature. Section three-eight. It's set up a nest of some kind down here. I can, oh Naga Goddess, I can see a few bodies mostly bloating and rotting. I don't think it's on B7, though. I had to move up the vent. B6?"

"What's it look like?" Richard asked.

"Like a white Caliban with moustache tentacles, maggoty, oozing pus all over. It's pretty big as well, about the size of a small car."

"Strewth!" Gwen suppressed her nausea, making a mental note that Caliban must not eat this thing. If Caliban could turn into a netherworld maggot the size of a VW Golf…

Mayuree's Arcane Eye continued its tour of the surrounding area. "I’ve got something," she continued. "Let me finish doing the round. Ooops, I found something!" Mayuree gushed. "Well, I found someone."

"Okay, steady…"

"There's another—oh goddess—and another!"

After a minute, Mayuree's narrative tour continued as the Mages waited. "Alright, basement level five, sections two-three, four-three, three-six and four-eight. Hostiles, a dozen NoMs armed with… nets? Why are they doing with fishing nets? There's a Mage with each group as well. Evocation and Transmutation from the looks of it—whoops! One of them just looked at me. I am going back into the vents. Maybe they know Detect Magic?"

Gwen held their breath.

"Okay, I’m safe. False alarm."

Using the entrance of the filtration quarter as cover, Richard asked Lea to create a miniature model of what Mayuree had seen as the party convened for their next step. "So it's confirmed," he said. "An ambush. They were waiting for us to take on the Crawler, maybe. Those things are notoriously difficult to kill. As a magical aberration born out of God knows what, their bodies resist physical damage and their slime has both paralysing effects and acts as protection against elemental damage. Word is they're from a far plane of sorts, like pocket dimensions in between the Elemental Planes."

"So was Gwen right? There's someone responsible for this thing?" Mayuree asked.

"And laid a trap for us no less." Gwen tapped her chin. "What are they hoping to accomplish? They can't be robbing us. That's absurd. Ransom maybe? A kidnapping? That's beyond stupid."

"Half the Undercity would cease to exist," Kitty scoffed, glancing at Mayuree. "They wouldn't dare."

"Then that makes even less sense. Are those Undercity Mages protecting the Crawler, maybe?"

"It's still a magical creature," Richard added. "A powerful one at that, tier four or five at least. Maybe they're looking to harvest its core?"

"Too much effort. With this many men, they could form a party and go to the Orange Zone," Mayuree said.

"They can't leave the district, so maybe that's it. I still think they look like slavers," Gwen said. She had no difficulty believing the extent to which slavers would go to capture a rare talent. "Any group that wishes to operate with the domain of the Tower would not dare antagonise Fudan. Assuming they're after one of us, they would make enemies of powers they cannot possibly contain. The presumption then, I would suggest, is that they have help from powers outside of the CCP and the Towers. Perhaps Rogue Mages?"

The others considered her theory and concurred. It was the only logical explanation, given the circumstances.

"Well, how do you want to do this?" Mayuree asked, looking a little unsure. "Do we… umm…"

Gwen felt her whole body tensing.

There it was.

The moment of truth.

She studied the three-dimensional diagram in front of them. The enemy was grouped into four quadrants, one Mage to four to five NoMs. They were situated one basement level above the creature. From the looks of it, they’d planned to attack the Fudan party as soon as the Mages had exhausted themselves against the worm, maybe catch Gwen's party unaware via some sort of environmental effects, like a collapsed ceiling or a flood of water. That would explain the fishing nets. The filtration systems could summon immense volumes of water. If they had not had Richard with them or Mayuree, she and Kitty could have been caught unaware, unable to defend themselves or become injured enough to trigger their contingency rings.

"Gwen." Richard placed a hand on her shoulder. "Use Caliban well. Those Mages look tier three or four at best."

Gwen flinched at her cousin's suggestion, feeling her hands grow clammy. Vents. Enclosed spaces. Caliban. Fresh meat. It was a good plan. There was one Mage in each sector. There would be no survivors if her creature descended upon her hapless victims in an ambush. It would be a repeat of Blackheath. But worse, far worse.

Gwen felt her initial euphoria over Mayuree's Divined advantage transform into a cold and unpleasant epiphany. Earlier, when speculating about the battles ahead, she had anticipated that, like her prior experiences, they would be assaulted by parties who wished to impede or oppose them. In the heat of combat, she would wound, maim and, if need be, kill her enemies.

But this…

They had a phrase for it in her old world.

Premeditated murder.

"There's likely to be quite a bit of noise and vibration once you get down there," Richard said, perhaps sensing her unease. "With any luck, the other groups won't hear."

Mayuree's complexion paled as Gwen fought the butterfly in her belly. Reaching out with a hand, the two clasped each other's fingers for some reassurance of sanity.

"If you can't, I'll do it," Kitty said without hesitation, her tone mocking and cold.

Gwen took a deep breath. She’d known the day would come, but not like this. Not over something so trivial. Not for scores.

"Wait!" Even if it was futile, even if these were maybe slavers, she wanted to steer her companions' minds away from one of bloodlust. "You're all forgetting about what the secretariat's quest for us was. It's to kill this thing, right? It's to make this level safe from an aberrant beast. We don't have to go in there and kill everything and everyone. What would be the point?

"I know of a way to solo the Crawler. Single-shot artillery spell. Boom, and smithereens. Richard can defend me, Mayuree can keep an eye out, and Kitty, you can run interference if anyone comes to find us.

"Think outside the box. We're not going to benefit from killing these NoMs and Mages because it's not a part of our quest. This way, bang-bang-boom, five CCs. Done! Otherwise, we waste time and mana, get blood on our hands, and for what?"

"More pussyfooting around?" Kitty frowned, her eyes critical and unpleasant.

Mayuree pulled at her friend's sleeve. Kitty turned to the Diviner.

"I don't want to kill the NoMs." Mayuree raised her voice, perhaps thinking of the NoMs in District 35 or maybe the lively scene she had seen in the market. Ma's thought experiment must have struck her soundly. These NoMs were just people, desperate people, trying to earn a living. To kill them in defence was one thing, but casually slaughtering them when an option for avoidance was available did not sit well with her lifestyle.

Gwen was opposed to murder, while Mayuree had no desire to be an accessory to murder.

Richard grinned his usual grin, shrugging. He would abide by Gwen's choice.

"You sure you can kill the Crawler solo?" Kitty pulled a face before turning to her fellow LCSS candidate. "Also, an artillery spell? Do you know an artillery spell? What are you, tier four? Three?"

"I'll use Caliban if I have to." Gwen feigned an expression of hopeful determination. "As for your question, yes. I know an artillery spell. I worked it out with Magister Wen. We measured the maximum output between tier six and seven."

Kitty's pale eyes grew hard, impressed but not convinced.

"If you screw this up and they find us, I’m not going to be soft-hearted," she warned Gwen. "My path does not allow for such sentimental hesitations. Mao knows why you're trying to spare this trash."

"Of course. Thanks, Kitty." Gwen unwound the tension in her voice. She knew that Mayuree's friend was the sort of person whose words were harsh and unforgiving, but having spent six weeks with her, Gwen knew better than to judge Kitty by her frigid exterior.

Nonetheless, it was still shocking to see "good people" not thinking of killing foes as morally reprehensible. Had Kitty been blooded? She certainly acted the part. Richard? Gwen had no doubt. Conversely, Mayuree was a neophyte in the taking of human life. As for herself, Gwen could only abide by her lingering remorse.

At least she’d convinced her party to give her a chance to complete the quest without unnecessary bloodshed. If they were still attacked by these NoMs and Mages, her mercy was at an end.

She walked the Path of Violent Conflict, not the Path of Gleeful Butchery.

"Gwen?" Mayuree squeezed her hand.

Gwen nodded. The time for thinking was over. Now was the time for action.

"Ariel!"

"Ee! EE!"

"Caliban!"

"Shaa! Shaa!"

Taking a deep breath, she faced the threshold, beyond which was the darkness beckoned.

"Right," she informed her companions. "I am ready."

Richard sighed internally.

As always, he chose to humour his cousin. At any rate, the slavers weren't going to be worth any CCs.

He could probably drown the whole room without making a peep, but what was the benefit? He had known that Gwen would be opposed to the killing. Likewise, he could have offered her a reprieve, taking it upon himself to kill the men so that her little hands remained unsoiled. But instead, he'd egged her on because Gwen needed instruction in matters more than just magic. Lord Gunther had told him as much when he’d left for Shanghai.

"Now that you and I are both privy to Gwen's peculiar quality," her brother-in-craft had shared with him. "Know that I am determined to see Master's legacy fulfilled in Gwen. Despite the trauma, her mind has retained clarity of purpose, her heart an unwavering moral compass. That is why Master loved her so. She's not like you and me, Richard. Gwen has a conscience of balance, just like her Void and Lighting. Interesting, don't you think? Do recall that she's the one who said that the abuse of greatness is when the use of power is disjointed from remorse."

The two had shared a drink.

"Keep her safe, but don't keep her sheltered," the Magus had advised Richard. "She will bend, but Gwen will not break."

And so I shall prod, Richard thought as Gwen summoned her Familiars. He regarded Caliban in its serpentine form, appreciating the obsidian serpent's smooth, high-gloss exterior. A double-edged blade; a true monster.

A moment later, Lea returned from her discreet little adventure in the vents above as the others entered the filtration chamber. Through their telepathic bond, the Undine informed him that the Mage in the vent had expired.

Anyone else? He asked through their empathic link.

The NoM who was watching us is unconscious, Lea replied. I spared him as you asked.

Good girl. Stay out of sight.

Richard felt a light pressure to his right. He looked down to see Mayuree, her face full of questions. Gwen and Kitty could not detect his invisible Familiar, but Mayuree could. He smiled at her innocuously.

"What are you doing?" It was a Private Message.

"Doing what I can for Gwen," Richard answered without a hint of shame. "Paving the road ahead. Doing my best."

"Best for you or Gwen?"

"Is there a difference? I can't foretell the future. I am not a Diviner."

Mayuree's amber eyes searched his face for an answer. "Why did you kill him?"

Richard's answer was as cryptic as it was chilling. "You gave me cause."

"Me?"

"Aye." Richard paused, then gave Mayuree his brightest, beaming smile. "Because Gwen does not need to consume low-level Transmuters."

The Diviner walked on ahead.

The party entered the filtration chambers.

The wastewater exchange nodes were rooms constructed from ferroconcrete, transmuted into twenty-metre-width cubes. In each hub sat an enormous pillar inscribed with a combination of Transmutation, Conjuration and Abjuration Magic, held together by inscriptions and glyphs of the Enchantment School. A plumbing system was embedded above and below, taking fetid wastewater from above and expelling it into the near-infinite space of the Elemental Plane of Water. Below, another node drew in fresh, clean water from elsewhere on the Plane of Water, feeding the purification junction in B2.

The filtration system within the room was as Secretariat Choi had described. They’d been built in the eighties, and many of its sections suffered from disrepair. Parts of it glowed faintly, others had missing inscriptions. The lower pillars had plumbing failures, resulting in gushing pools of foul water that ran ankle-deep into water-worn crevices.

There was also a scent of death in the air, distinct from the heavy odour of human excreta. It was the sort of smell that was sour and acrid with an offending odour that made Gwen’s eyes water. There was the faint sound of buzzing in the distance, as though someone had thrown a wasps’ nest into a room and then shut the door.

"We're close enough. We're smelling the Crawler because of the connecting vent above us." Mayuree marked the rusted entry-point above, where a network of ventilation shafts lay long-neglected, used only by strange and aberrant creatures spawned from the chamber's connection to the Elemental Plane of Water, now an Arcane Eye. "The creature's lair is one level above us on B6 and one chamber to the North. The Slaver Mages are on B5 above the creature, spread across adjacent rooms. My Arcane Eye is currently overseeing the creature. It's disgusting. It's got some sort of compound insect eyes too, and tentacles, and it's squirmy and slimy, and oh goddess, it's got maggots in its maggot body! Arrrgh!"

"It'll all be over soon, Mia," Gwen promised. "Hold steady." She knelt and focused on circulating Alumdj's mana until half her Druidic Essence had congealed into a sphere the size of a ping pong ball. "Ariel, come here."

"EE! EE!" Ariel appeared beside her hand in a flash. With a snap of its jaws, it sucked up the ball of vital energy with an audible puck. As the emerald energy suffused its body, its serpentine marten figure grew until it was almost the size of a hunting hound. Sparks of emerald lightning arced from its whiskers onto the concrete, gouging out a set of Lichtenberg figures across the pavement.

"EE! EE!" it cooed at Gwen.

Her companions, Kitty included, shook from the palpable intensity of the mana stored inside Ariel's body.

"Caliban, you're on back up," Gwen communicated to her Familiar. Caliban had to wait for Ariel to deliver its payload, then strike if the Crawler survived the lightning blast. "Stay in your serpent form until you're needed. Okay?"

"Shaa! Shaa!"

Gwen could only assume her infamous 'Mongolian Death Worm' understood. "Okay, let's head up now. Mayuree?"

"Ready. It's still there. Our goal is to do this quickly and get out before the Mages can come down. Time is of the essence."

"That's right," Gwen said. "Let's make this clean and snappy."

Kitty scoffed. The girl had already put on an array of self-buffing Transmutations. Like a Valkyrie of ice, she floated through the air, hovering an inch off the ground, radiating an Aura of Frost that would slow any enemy that tried to close the distance to them.

"Richard?"

"Lea and I are good to go."

Gwen nodded. "Thanks, everyone." She knocked her boots together. It wasn't necessary, but she had felt the gesture suited the effects of the magic item rather well. "Flight!"

Caliban coiled itself around her waist while Ariel rode on her shoulder. Gwen elevated herself carefully until she reached the height of the vent, near the entrance where Mayuree's eye had entered prior.

At about half a metre from the rusted ventilation, her Familiars leapt into the corroded part of the metal with a terrific Clang.

"I think it heard that. It's stirring." Mayuree kept a real-time tab on the Crawler with her face half-caught in a suppressed gag. "Mao, that was loud!"

Rookie mistake. Gwen grimaced. The Arcane Eye was silent and ethereal. Physical movement through the vent was a drunken pub crawl at three am.

Without hesitation, she channelled a jolt of Lightning mana into Ariel. "Ariel, Haste! Go!"

Ariel disappeared in a silvery emerald streak of light. Caliban slithered forward as well, traversing the vent in an "S" pattern. When Ariel reached the vertical section, it kicked off the sides with a percussive Clang! and made its way up. As for Caliban, the Void serpent turned its faceless mien upwards, then requested the mana necessary to transmute legs. Gwen obliged, feeling her blood run cold as Caliban assumed the form of the Javanese Death's Head Centipede. Caliban stretched out its twenty-nine pairs of newly sprouted legs and began its ascent with a rhythmic tink-tink, tink-tink, tink-tink-tink, its carapace Clanging as it went and its bulbous head and two grasping mandibles attached banging the vent like a cymbal.

Clang! Clang! Clang!

Tink-tink-a-tink! Tink-tink!

An unholy orchestra of noise reverberated and shot through the vent with such absurd cacophony that Gwen's party could hear nothing else. "Mayuree." Gwen closed her eyes to avoid becoming distracted, turning her mind inward to feel her Familiars through their empathic link. Until her creatures took on spirits or became higher-order existences, they would not be able to feed back visual and audio stimuli like Lea. "Mia, be my eyes."

"They're almost at the vent!" Mayuree shouted over the ding of Gwen's Familiars raking and ripping their way through the rusted vents.

"Ariel, faster!" Gwen's voice took on a tone of urgency, offering her pet another jolt of mana.

Through their empathic link, she felt Ariel launch from the vent into the corroded, slime-covered filtration room where the Crawler had made its lair, skidding across the slippery pavement.

"Ariel's in!"

"Combat form!" Gwen released the limits placed on Ariel's marten form and allowed it to transform into its mongoose shape. "Keep it engaged while I ready the spell."

"EE! EE!" Her Familiar's battle cry echoed through her skull.

As Ariel enlarged, the mongoose became surrounded by a splash of blue-green energy that scorched the ground, ionising the fetid air into pure ozone. From Mayuree's rapid explanations, the Crawler had been feeding on the filth that leaked from the malfunctioning filtration node, growing fat on waste and excreta. Now that Ariel was in the fray, Mayuree could see just how unnatural the creature had become.

The bestiary had stated that Crawlers measured up to a maximum of five feet, but this creature was nine feet and then some, excluding its writhing tentacles. It had outgrown its innate instinct for carrion, for Mayuree could see that in the pile of amphibian spawn sacks behind it were pale and bloated bodies of humans in various states of decay.

Ariel's fur fluffed into needle-like slivers as it blasted the creature with a shower of pins and needles, setting up a damage multiplier for Gwen's next assault. Enraged, the Crawler vomited forth a spray of vile milk liquid in a frontal cone that covered a distance of almost four metres.

Ariel proved far too fleet for a creature used to tracking down immobile prey, moving like living quicksilver. With a thrust from its powerful hind legs that pulverised the pavement, Ariel leapt from the ground, kicked from the walls, and used the three-dimensional nature of the filtration node to manoeuvre itself into the Crawler's blind spots, sending its compound eyes twisting and turning on their stalks.

Gwen, meanwhile, readied her artillery spell. With Mayuree's panoptic vision, she could alleviate her worry that Ariel lacked the intelligence to supersede its tunnel-vision prey sense, making it susceptible to ambushes. One after another, with heart-in-mouth, she incanted the necessary patterns of the Evocation Sigil required to manifest Elemental Sphere. Though the spell was still a tier above her, she had studied the magic enough to complete the circuit.

"Shaa!" Caliban sent her an empathic warning.

"Something's coming through the top side!" Mayuree abruptly shouted beside Gwen, her eyes wide with disbelief. "What in Mao's name? A Stone Shape is manifesting on the east wall!"

The intrusion was so sudden that Gwen almost lost her spell.

"Gwen, if you're going to do it, do it now!" Mayuree said. As the intrusion had posed no immediate danger to Mayuree, she had not foreseen it coming and was just as surprised.

Gwen caught her fumble and finished the last few syllables.

"Gwen! I think it's—" Her final incantation drowned out Mayuree's warning.

"BARBANGINY!" Gwen finished the last dozen syllables of her chant, feeling the strain on her Evocation Glyph dialled to eleven. Given a choice, she would have chosen Lightning Bolt, but only her new Signature Evocation AOE possessed the power to obliterate her target.

"My eyes!" Mayuree's spell sizzled.

Somewhere a level away, Ariel's ball of plasma erupted like a miniature sun manifesting within the tightly constrained space of the filtration chamber. Arcs of blue-green lighting running at a billion or more volts filled the room, turning the air into flames.

The Crawler creature made a single screech before its mucus evaporated, its flesh charred, and its soft innards boiled. Already pin-cushioned by Ariel's lightning-charged spines, the volatile energy sought a path of escape, finding itself drawn to the creature's body, obliterating it so entirely that it split from top to bottom in an eruption of superheated mucus.

Then the first stage of Elemental Sphere ended and the second stage began. A secondary burst of electricity in emerald and cobalt smothered the room in a cleansing tempest, scouring every inch of its surface with plasma, flaying the necrotic air with heavenly fire until only ozone remained.

Gwen retracted Ariel and Caliban the instant her spell connected. She quickly realised she had made another rookie mistake—this time, there’d been too much gunpowder in the cannon. She’d wanted to make sure the volume of vitae spent was a force multiplier for the Crawler. However, her calculations had been way off the chart.

Having spent weeks practising Ariel's Lightning manifestation, as well as record metrics with Magister Wen, she had developed an acute internal sense for the strength of lightning produced by her Evocation Sigil. Week after week, she had felt the intensity and power of her Evocation Sigil increase in proficiency little by little, like water carving out a pathway through stone, becoming more fluid and fluent.

Still, she had underestimated Almudj's gift.

From the rush of heat exploding from the vent, her spell appeared to have ignited the residual mana within the room, left by the broken Enchantment of the filtration system.

She shivered. If her friends had been in that room, and she’d had no idea that her lighting was powerful enough to ignite the excess mana, the ramifications would have been catastrophic. Therefore, she applauded her choice of avoiding the slavers.

"Goddess above and below!" Mayuree stuck out her tongue at Gwen. "What did you and Magister Wen create?"

Gwen touched a few fingers to where her heart was threatening to tear from her chest. "Thank God we sent Ariel. No one else got hurt, right?"

Mayuree's expression grew strange. "I don't know about that." Gwen remembered that Mayuree had seen something as the spell erupted. She’d been sure that a sorceress had come through the wall, which meant that…

"GWEN!" Mayuree said before Gwen's Divination Sigil could shriek in protest.

The two Diviners instantly took up defensive postures.

"Richard, incoming!" Gwen said, guiding his eyes upward.

"Above us." Mayuree's warning was far more precise. "It's coming through the bulkhead!"

"Shield!" Richard formed a water barrier in front and on top of his companions. Her cousin had been working on his Abjuration for the last six weeks, focussing on both the speed of his manifestation and the endurance of his protective barriers.

Just as Kitty readied an incantation, the ceiling began to churn.

CRACK!

CRACK!

CRACK!

Something heavy was pounding through the ferroconcrete structure. The whole chamber seemed to ripple and tear from a Shockwave spell as dust and debris descended.

The ground lurched violently.

"Mia," Kitty cried, "watch out!"

Slabs of concrete fell. The ceiling moved as though suddenly liquified.

The concrete surface directly above them opened, revealing recoiled rebars that folded back as though commanded by a supernatural force, like the inverse-bloom of a flower.

Four pairs of eyes turned skyward.

A rusted blade, two-feet across and a full ten-feet long, shot into the filtration chamber where Gwen's party readied themselves.

No, not a blade, Gwen thought as it punched through two layers of Richard's Water Shield and then struck her non-Newtonian mana shield. That's a fucking slab of iron!

Chapter thirty-five

Between Concrete and a Hard Place

Before Gwen could react, Kitty intervened, sparing her from finding out whether her non-Newtonian shield was capable of absorbing the impact from an iron girder falling from a high-rise.

As the frontal lobe of Gwen's Shield cracked, taking on the likeness of frosted glass, Kitty completed the circuit of a Wall of Ice which erupted underfoot from her barrier, diverting the momentum of the terrific blow aside, shattering as it consumed the kinetic energy.

The foursome then turned their gaze upward, where the transmuted aperture of the ceiling gaped like a dark maw with folded iron for teeth.

There was first a smell of burnt flesh. Then a girl-Mage descended through the air.

"Lulan Li?" Gwen spluttered with shock and bewilderment, her Divination Sigil screeching like a cat dragged across a chalkboard. "What are you doing here? Were you in that room?"

The girl was half-naked and half-baked; Gwen's baptism of lightning had destroyed her riding leather to charcoal. Lulan's dark head of hair was a burnt mess, smoking in clumps and missing most of its mass. Her eyebrows were gone as well, giving her a comical expression, while her skin wept from a dozen wounds gooey with mangled heat-rash. There was blood seeping down from her ears and her nostrils, but even so, her irises were two glowing orbs of molten iron locked solely onto Gwen.

When she opened her mouth to speak, Gwen swore she could see smoke billowing from Lulan's throat. "Gwen Song… Daggers… give me back brother's daggers," the girl murmured, spitting splutters of scarlet with every rise and fall of her chest.

Gwen felt an instant impulse to delay until they had the time and convenience to sort out Lulan without a dozen slavers rushing toward their location as they dallied. She didn’t doubt that the other slavers knew their monster was a smoking mess of ravaged offal by now and were coming in hot.

"Lulan, are you okay?"

"Cao! We don't have time for this." Kitty hissed. "Glacial Spike!"

A conic missile of ice materialised with a crinkling clatter of frigid air, then launched itself with terrific velocity toward Lulan.

"Parry!" Effortlessly, Lulan raised a hand, forming a slab of iron that deflected the blast. A rush of cold air filled the space between Gwen and Lulan as Kitty's spell exploded, half-covering the blade with rime.

The blade barrier barely moved.

Kitty's brows knitted.

Gwen gulped. That was a tier four Evocation spell and Lulan wasn't an Abjurer. Was the girl using the weight of her blade as a form of defence? How stoic was a slab of iron ripped from the bowels of the Elemental Plane of Earth?

Still, she attempted to disarm the girl verbally. "Lulan, listen to me. Now's not the time to discuss Kusu's implements. If you could just calm down for a minute—"

"Don't lie to me!" Lulan's face was a mask of anguish and pain, livid with suffering. "THRUST!"

Another girder of iron took a split second to materialise, then sped toward Gwen's shield with the momentum of a rockslide.

"Fuck!" Richard snapped; his cool finally depleted. Gwen felt his frustration, for Dick's water shields were weak against a specific type of magic, and it just so happened that Lulan specialised in that same form.

"Gwen, leave her. Regroup! Back to the tunnels!" he shouted. "Lea, Elemental Form!"

Silvery Conjuration filled the air as Richard's Undine manifested in full. It was the first time Gwen had seen Richard Conjure Lea in her entirety and the effect reminded her of when her Master had brought forth Sufina's full power.

A resplendent goddess in blue materialised, hovering six feet from the floor, instantly drawing every mote of Elemental water toward her consolidating form. First, a head full of rope-like cobalt hair distended, followed by a long, elegant neck, a serpentine waist and two pale white stalks for legs. As her elfin form solidified, motes of bean-green mossy liquid dripped from her toes. In Gwen's eyes, Lea's appearance, ethereal and elven, was equally cruel and beautiful.

"Human, release your weapon and begone!" the Undine commanded Lulan, her fluttering, inch-long lashes opening to reveal sapphire-blue eyes without pupils. Her voice was ethereal, unearthly, informing the young Mages in front and behind that indeed, she was a higher-order being, a resident of the Elemental Plane of Water.

SCHWING!

What greeted Lea was a Sword Strike, cutting her watery torso in half.

Water was the most harmonious of all elements; the very weakness that ensured Richard's shields could not block Lulan's attacks, but that also implied Lulan could not harm Richard's Familiar.

As expected, Lea scoffed.

"Lea!" Richard urged his Familiar to focus on attacks. As a fellow Conjurer, Gwen knew Elemental manifestation consumed mana at an atrocious rate.

Lea's eyes flashed. She opened her mouth, releasing a string of strange invocations innate to creatures of her Elemental race. The Undine was a creature connected to a place of infinite mass and space. As a creature of the estuary and the river, Lea's link was to the brackish flow of streams fecund with life.

Lulan affected another swing. Once again, Kitty diverted the strike with a grunt.

With a simple gesture, Lea opened an elliptic portal four feet in diameter. A jet blast of water, forced under the immense pressure of the near-infinite tonnage of the watery plane, erupted horizontally and struck Lulan across the chest, blasting her off her feet and launching the unsuspecting Sword Mage into the furthest concrete wall.

Four seconds later, Richard was stumbling. "Lea," he called out weakly, "come back."

Sullenly, his Familiar returned.

Dark and tenebrous waters thick with reeds and silt, now knee-deep, sloshed back and forth across the filtration room. The party turned their attention toward the concrete wall, where Lulan's form was pressed into the rebar-reinforced concrete. The Sword Mage's arm was twisted in impossible directions, broken in two places, one leg hanging limply. She slid from the wall into the water with almost comical slowness, like a mannikin with its joints smashed. The only indication that she was still alive was the dull glow of wine still circulating in her eyes, glaring at Gwen with a dark and unwavering passion.

Lulan attempted to move, but a racking pain seemed to overcome her twisted body, sending a jolt of agony onto her face. When she attempted to lift herself from the floor again, a torrent of blood erupted from her nostrils.

"Jesus, Dick." Gwen winced.

The others made audible gasps at Lulan’s condition.

"What a waste," Richard muttered under his breath. "Okay, let's regroup."

Lea returned to Richard's side, again becoming ethereal and invisible. Manifesting Lea in her full glory was no easy task for a Conjurer without the necessary expertise to control a high-tier humanoid spirit, much less utilising her innate ability to such a degree.

Her cousin materialised a mana potion and injected himself in the thigh. Alchemy fatigue implied that his next dose would only be half as effective.

"Gwen, you alright?" Richard asked.

"Y-yeah. Jesus…" Gwen muttered, still shaking herself from the rapidly escalating events of the last two minutes or so. "Bloody impressive spell, Dick."

"You tanked that sword with only a shield," Richard replied. "Isn't that more impressive?"

"Are we finishing her off?" Kitty turned to Gwen with impatience. "Your enemy, your choice."

"Gwen," Richard coughed. "Waste not, want not. Caliban's around, right?"

"GWEN!" Mayuree's warning came on yet again before Gwen could catch on to Richard's suggestion. "AGAIN!"

Gwen looked up bewilderingly while Mayuree directed their attention toward the hole Lulan had come through.

"Something's coming!" Mayuree shouted, moving to the side.

"Shield!" Richard called out to his Familiar. "LEA, MAKE A DOME NOW!"

Lea instantly formed an umbrella-shaped Shield large enough to cover both himself and Gwen, but still, the flood of milky white liquid that came from above splattered off the walls and splashed on the shield, frothing as it slid into the knee-deep water.

Beside Richard, Kitty did for Mayuree what Richard had done for Gwen, erecting a wall of ice that momentarily protruded from an adjacent wall while she effortlessly dodged the incoming tide.

When the foursome looked up, they could see five aberrant silhouettes imposed against a blinding backlight of Dancing Lights descending toward them. Five Carrion Crawlers, each more massive than the one Gwen had slain, were roving downward toward them, adhering to the smooth sides of the hole shaped by Lulan when she had earlier intruded into the chamber.

Fucking five? Gwen felt her mind reel. So they were breeding them. The monster wasn't just a single creature being reared for whatever nefarious reason, there was a large-scale professional set-up. They had all underestimated the criminal undercurrent running under the ferroconcrete of the lost districts.

But wait! None of this made any sense. What would some ruffians from the triads gain by attacking them? Did these fools have a death wish? Were they not afraid of purges? They were LCSS candidates. Students of Fudan.

She scanned her companions. She couldn't see any reason a district would risk a purge for her friends. Were they here for her? Did the slavers have a network where they communicated and exchanged information on rare specimens akin to how collectors traded the location of exotic magical beasts?

Her eyes gazed past the monsters covered by the glittering mass of Dancing Lights to the hole beyond. Was this group the ones they'd seen before? Or were they another party? How should she fight them now?

Would it have been wiser if she had murdered them in cold blood?

Lulan felt the red mist fall away.

The berserker's haze had not departed by choice. It had been forced to retreat by her battered body, now incapable of sustaining the stress put on by the Heart Iron.

Then the pain struck. Searing, burning, scalding pain that oppressed the breath in her body.

Barely lucid from her torturous injury, she watched the Water Mage with Gwen erect an impressive dome that splashed the milky liquid all over, splattering the walls and herself. Where the liquid touched her bleeding body, it quickly frothed, eating into her skin.

Numbness, paralysis and incapacitation, Lulan recognised the symptoms but was glad for their anaesthesia. Without the chemical insensibility, she would have likely perished from the shock.

In her consciousness, she recognised the beasts as Carrion Crawlers—specially bred variants with a highly potent dose of the paralytic saliva. From the bestiary, she knew that despite the horrid nature of the Crawlers, they were often bred for the many medicinal agents extracted from their glans. Their saliva could be distilled to become poison, used as a replacement for morphine or synthesised into alchemical gas for use on the battlefield against troops of demi-humans like Orcs or Hobs. Likewise, their ichorous blue blood was a precious reagent used in Healing magic or even distilled to produce a potent opioid.

Somewhere between her thoughts drifting, she acknowledged that she was bleeding out.

With a wet plop, a Crawler landed beside her. She was covered with wounds, on the verge of death, and unable to fight. That made her its favourite sort of prey.

The pallid-fleshed aberration approached. From either side of its teeth-lined maw extended two pairs of suction-cupped tentacles barbed with jaundiced teeth hooks.

Lulan felt the birth of a new awareness press upon her brain, one that she understood in its entirely—despair. The despair of knowing one died for nothing. Was this how her life was going to end? Like a dog with its legs snapped, fed to a monster like carrion?

Kusu… She had caused him no end of trouble.

As the Crawler's tentacles grappled her flesh, Lulan wondered if her brother would cry.

Gwen's team had made it no more than a dozen metres back the other way when they ran into the ambush party they’d seen in the upper chambers of B4, ratifying Richard's worst fears.

The Mages in the enemy party immediately opened up with a barrage of Flaming Hands, Magic Missiles and Scorching Rays. An Abjurer in the ambush party brushed away a few Water Bolts Richard sent his way, erecting a half-dome Earthen Shield, forming a pincer attack with the Mages from the other side.

"Shit!" Richard now understood the meaning of one step wrong, and every step was a foot deeper into the grave. He’d placed too much faith in Mayuree's detection spells and vastly underestimated the complexity of the tunnels that had been worked into the basement.

Mayuree's demonstration of her prowess had proved too impressive. Her seemingly omniscient knowledge of the lay of the land had made them all lower their guards. Locating the creature and scouting the tunnels that led to it was one thing, but they should have had the patience to scout out the other tunnels with her Arcane Eye. That their team had stopped at their quarry was his mistake, for he was the oldest and the most experienced.

Then there was Gwen's proposal.

Was it her fault? She was the one who had urged that they immediately slay the creature and extract themselves from the level for five quick CCs. Was it Lulan's fault? Or were more extraordinary powers at play?

He glanced over at his cousin, who was firing off Lighting Bolts at the Crawlers. As usual, her spells were supremely effective against magic creatures, and the deranged worms screeched and screamed as they fried. Kitty, likewise, was flitting back and forth through the air, nimbly firing off darts of Glacial Spike that snapped off tentacles on impact and slowed the Crawler's movements.

Mayuree was exhibiting the classic weakness of the single-class Diviner. She had to rely on her expendable Wands, blasting away at the Crawlers and keeping them at bay with Scorching Ray and Magic Missiles. In addition, it was up to Richard as the Abjurer to protect her, as Gwen wasn't yet proficient enough to be both Abjurer and Evoker.

"Gwen, can you get us out of here?" Richard asked. "I can keep us Shielded while you work the Dimension Door."

Gwen could teleport one of them at a time with her mana pool; she should be able to get Mayuree and Kitty to safety. As for himself, Richard was confident that should he flood the tunnels with Lea, he could at least escape.

"I can—"

WHOMP!

Gwen's answer was lost as a blast of explosive air discharged in the middle of Richard's Shield, displacing the flowing mass of water for a split second. To his horror, a few splattered drops of the nasty, creamy Crawler phlegm landed across his face and arms.

"Fuck!" Richard directed a stream of clear water onto them. His timely action was sound, but the venom was potent.

Almost instantly, Richard's face drooped.

"LEER!" Richard called for his Familiar once more, his voice mangled by the injury. Lea manifested and took over Richard's Shielding of his companions, demonstrating one of the top reasons Creature Conjurers were unmatched. He fumbled in his ring, produced a Remove Poison injector, and slammed it into his thigh.

"Garrrgh!" He grunted as the magical adrenaline dispelled the paralytic alchemical effect. "Fuck!"

"Blizzard!" Seeing Richard taking a hit, Kitty stepped up her battlefield control. She turned towards the front of the party where the second group of slavers were trying to close in, then opened up a long-range, wide-radius AOE. Shards of ice and slivers of arcane frost pelted the Abjurer's Shields, turning the ground to slush and rime.

"Gwen, help Kitty!" Richard howled.

Gwen had taken enough of a pause to resummon both her Familiars. Whatever impacts Caliban might have on her body, the situation was now life or death.

"Caliban, keep them off us! Clear a path!"

Caliban had taken on its most mana-efficient form, the scorpion-spider. Her netherworld fiend leapt into being, paling Gwen in the process, no longer offset by her waning supply of Druidic Essence, then charged the crawlers with its scything limbs.

"Ariel!" Gwen's marten emerged in its Mongoose form, doubling the firepower of her Evocation Lightning.

Between their Glacial Spikes, Lightning Bolts, Wands and Richard's Shielding, the second ambush party slowed to a proverbial crawl, becoming entrenched by their defence.

As for the other side, the Carrion Crawlers were fighting a protracted battle of attrition.

"Blast BOLT!" His cousin gritted her teeth as her mana surged. The twin blasts of arcing electricity connected with the group of Crawlers, striking three in a row. The tunnel filled with fumes reeking of cooked flesh.

"SKREEEE!" The creatures' screeches were like a mob of insane infants.

Richard had expected the things to explode, fall or topple over. Instead, the whole group of Crawlers glowed a shade of emerald, then came on again.

“Mass CURE," Mayuree cried out in dismay. "They have a Healer with them!"

"Oh, you gotta be shitting me." Richard gnashed his teeth.

Richard shared the party’s doubt and disbelief. A Combat Healer? The slavers—ruffians and scoundrels of the undercity—had a battle-ready Cleric with them? It was already absurd that some mid-tier Mages from the lost districts were pinning them in a tunnel with sedan-sized maggots. But now they also had a Healer capable of casting ranged-area Heals? That would make the Healer at tier six at the very least.

Richard thought about Secretariat Choi's offer of twenty CCs. If this hidden prize was what the CCs were for, it made perfect sense.

The problem now was that they were stuck between concrete and harder concrete. The escalation of the party's already dire circumstances meant they could be injured and sent back in disgrace. As for death or capture?

Gwen could escape by herself, though she would refuse to live alone. Her mana pool and her Dimension Door made her the least likely to be caught. Kitty could also escape by herself, but she would not leave Mayuree. Gwen could take one of them with her, which meant Mayuree.

As for Richard, he would do his best.

The problem was if one of them was caught alone by the paralysing slime of the worms.

Had Secretariat Choi anticipated this? Would the smiling villain come to their rescue? Most importantly, would he be held accountable if the students were maimed? As far as Richard could deduce, fear of disadvantage to himself was the only reason why the major would send someone to aid them.

CRACK!

The student Mages became aware of another impending crisis. The walls and the floors were shifting, boxing them inward.

"WOCAO!" Even Mayuree was losing her cool. "Someone's using Stone Shape on the walls. They're trying to box us in." The Diviner quickly materialised her Stone Shape wand and countered with borrowed Transmutation. Comparatively, her wand was at the minimum tier required for the spell, possessing only ten charges, meaning a maximum of eight odd minutes. The opposing Transmuter, assuming they were of average talent, could keep casting until they were OoM, furthermore restoring themselves with injectors.

"Kitty?" Gwen turned to their Transmuter. "Can you Stone Shape?"

"I am an ICE MAGE!" Kitty snapped at Gwen cattily. "AIR and WATER!"

CRACK! CRACK!

Their fighting space narrowed by half a metre.

"By the Naga Goddesses!" Mayuree swore. "I can't hold them, Richard."

"Gwen, take Mayuree out of here with your Dimension Door!" Kitty yelled.

"We'll be fine," Richard said. "Pop a potion, take Mayuree and get out of here. Go!"

Gwen looked toward Mayuree, who shook her head angrily. "I am not leaving the two of you."

"Now's not the time, you idiot!" Kitty was losing her patience. "Richard has Lea and I can fly and Blink."

Crack! Crack! CRACK!

The walls closed in.

Fuck! Richard's mind screamed with frustration. How dare these bastards fuck with them? Goddamn it! He should have killed the fucking lot of them as soon as they’d entered the districts.

He needed to get them out of there somehow.

ELEMENTAL SWARM.

Gwen could use that. The Void variety. But a Void Swarm was a double-edged blade.

Or Elemental Sphere? The AOE was too small to encompass both front and back, not to mention she now lacked the Druidic Essence for the version Ariel had manifested earlier.

The walls shuddered.

Richard made up his mind to take his cousin out. Damn the others.

"Dick!" His cousin turned to him with the light of an epiphany shining in her electric eyes.

"I am going to get Lulan. She got us into this, and she can get us out," she shouted over the ding of Crawlers, the crumbling tunnel, the splashing of poison on Shields, and bursts of blizzard and ice to their front and back.

"How do you know she's not with them?" Kitty shouted back.

"You think Lulan is capable of laying a trap like this?" Gwen fired back. "We need her absurd offensive abilities—there's no time! I am going to make her an offer she can't refuse."

"Don't waste your fucking time. Get Mia—"

"Kitty, SHUT UP!" Mayuree screamed at her friend, causing the girl to flinch. "Gwen, go! You can do it. I know you can."

Richard was amazed that Kitty had the extra energy to glare at her friend, who looked apologetic, then glower at Gwen with her jaws clenched in vexation.

"Gwen, are you sure?" Richard asked. "I can manage one more push with Lea. We can bullrush the rear. What if Lulan is dead?"

"She's alive," Mayuree said suddenly. "I can sense her still. Also, I can tell this is a… safe strategy."

The party turned to Mayuree.

"It'll work," the Diviner said cryptically. "I have a good feeling about this."

"Thanks, Mia." Gwen turned toward the direction where she had last seen Lulan. The girl had been wounded badly, but Richard was sure Gwen had a solution for that. As long as the Sword Mage still had breath, Richard was sure Gwen could bring her around. "Caliban, distract them! Ariel, you help!"

"Shaa! Shaa!"

"EE!"

Her cousin stabbed a mana potion into her thigh, shuddering as her mana pool refilled. Meanwhile, her pets bolted forward, taking advantage of the enclosed space to confuse her foes. To maximise their chances, she also wrapped her Chameleon Cloak around her shoulders.

"If Lulan dies or refuses," Richard said, "Come back and Dimension Door Mayuree out first. I can get away through the water without drama."

Gwen nodded.

Richard redoubled the rigidity of his barriers, then commanded Lea to offer a distraction by misting the surrounding air.

"Dimension Door!"

And just like that, his cousin was gone.

Gwen was confident her plan would work.

It had to.

Her choice was a win-win for herself, for Lulan and her party. If Lulan Li was idiotic or thick-headed enough to refuse, then the onus of what happened next was no one's fault but her own.

As she conjured the courage to venture outside Richard's barrier, her chest felt on the verge of bursting. But there was no alternative now. She was the one who’d got them into this mess, and now she had to dig them out of this hole. She had to become stronger. And she had to take responsibility.

"Dimension Door!"

With her growing command of the translocation spell, Gwen knew she could teleport further and more accurately. Therefore, she had calculated precisely the distance to where Lulan had been before releasing the spell.

Her exit had been a slight wrinkle in space, but her arrival filled her vision with a tenebrous burst of inky Void. Though precarious, she preferred the Void version of her Dimension Door because, unlike the lightning's thunderclap, the vitality-expanding variety was whisper-quiet.

As expected, she appeared a safe distance away from the slavers. Very quickly, Gwen orientated herself and looked down toward Lulan's body.

Holy shit! Her mind reeled as she caught sight of the Sword Mage a few feet away, half-submerged in the brackish water.

Lulan Li was missing an arm and half-covered in viscous white goo. From the looks of the stump, one of the Crawlers had chewed it off a few moments ago. Were it not for the fact that somehow, Lulan's reinforcement Magic still coloured her pale complexion with a reddish shade, Gwen would have teleported back.

She materialised a thick blanket without further hesitation, ready to wrap the girl. The only part of Lulan's corpse-like form that moved was her eyes. From a blanched and disfigured face, pupils the colour of wine glared at Gwen with a resentment that could set the world on fire.

Gwen met those eyes without hesitation. "Lulan Li," she spoke with absolute certainty. "Come with me if you want to live."

Chapter thirty-six

Once More Untothe Breach

“Good. If you're that pissed off, it means you're alive and lucid." Gwen threw the blanket over Lulan, then picked her body up from the floor. There would be time for barbed words later.

The commotion from behind their battle line seemed to have alerted the slavers crowding the tunnel entrance.

"Stop her!" a husky female voice cried out, revealing the origin of their unexpected struggle.

From underneath her cowl, Gwen finally caught sight of the leader of the slavers. To her surprise, it was a woman, and an exceedingly exotic one at that, with honeyed skin and dark eyes and a head full of dark hair that fell to her waist. She looked nothing like the slavers Gwen had fought, people like Bozza, who appeared as caricatures from a Mad Max movie. If Gwen had seen this woman on the streets of University Boulevard, she would have felt delighted to have met a fellow expatriate.

She held Lulan close as she manifested another Dimension Door. Next, she materialised in the middle of the enemy Mages as a burst of inky Void.

"Wocao!"

"Shit!"

"Arrrgh!"

Four shields burst into brilliance—cobalt, ochre, yellow and brilliant white—sending their casters stumbling from the recoil.

"Dimension Door!"

Another burst of tenebrous ink, then Gwen was gone.

Nephres Zalaam studied the pulse of her mana conduits as her shield absorbed the splash of Void-tainted mana. She also noticed with dismay that the hungering energy had consumed a semi-sphere of concrete below where Gwen Song had landed, four inches deep.

Nephres felt a sudden unease gripping her. Weren't the Sword Mage and Gwen Song mortal enemies? What was she hoping to accomplish? They had no Healers, and no potion could restore the Lulan girl. Did they have a high-tier wand? That was impossible, as wands usually maxed out at tier four. How about a scroll? No, that still required the relevant Schools of Magic.

"Bless!" She continued her pastoral care over her monsters. "Mass Cure Wounds!"

Once her meat shields were sufficiently topped up, she carefully eyed the three separate exits. Though she wanted accolades, Nephres Zalaam had not made it this far in the organisation by being liberal with her followers and quick on the uptake. In all honesty, she hadn’t expected the students to last this long against a two-sided assault, and most importantly, she had not at all expected the tier four Dimension Door to be in Gwen Song's repertoire. As someone who regularly worked with Maguses, she knew it was virtually impossible to catch teleporting Conjurers.

The only saving grace was that Dimension Door was a costly spell that most Mages could only manifest half a dozen times. Still, if the girl chose to run, abandoning her friends, catching her would be a significant chore.

"Sui," Nephres called out to her second-in-command. Sui was the one who had been transmuting the concrete in the tunnel. Now it was evident that a certain Void Sorceress had access to short-range teleportation, Nephres realised that she needed to make some contingencies.

Raising her head, Sui looked to her mistress for further instructions. Nephres threw her a mana injector, then activated her earring to deliver a Silent Message. Without access to a Divination control tower, the devices only worked within line of sight.

"Seal the tunnel. Keep the kids in with the Crawlers. We'll cut our losses and retreat to B9. We'll be leaving via the service tunnel in B12."

"Yes, Mistress," Sui replied via her embedded device. The Mage had questions but needed no answers, for Nephres knew her word was divine.

Sui turned her attention back to the tunnel and redoubled her efforts. "Stone Shape!"

At the same time, their Evoker took the opportunity to send in a few Magic Missiles that rattled the Water Mage's shield, which instantly replenished its flowing facade.

Nephres' second Evoker sent in another ball of blasting air, but the Water Abjurer had layered a double shield this time, preventing the same feint from happening.

Thinking of Gwen's Dimension Door and grinding her teeth at her team's incompetence, Nephres pondered the questionable advantage gained by their ambush against their present stalemate.

Within the tunnel, the student Mages were one Spirit Abjurer with an insane water Affinity, one Ice Mage with at least tier four in both Evocation and Transmutation, one Diviner who burned about four hundred HDM wands like matches, and Gwen Song with a near-dead Clanner Sword Mage. That meant the Void Beast and the Mongoose both belonged to Gwen.

In addition, the object of Nephres' assault was manifesting both Evocation and Conjuration.

But why had Gwen saved the Metal Mage?

When they’d descended the tunnel, she’d felt the shock of the blast in the Crawler's abode. From the vibration through the shaft, Nephres figured Gwen's lightning must have ignited the residual mana that flooded the chamber whenever a filter broke down.

What if she was wrong, and Gwen Song had a trump card capable of destroying that chamber wholesale? What if Gwen were to use it and slaughter everyone here, allies and enemies, indiscriminately?

Nephres Zalaam was no fool.

Those fucking dossiers! Who was it? Yi? Unlikely. Choi? That she could believe. Did Choi know about her connection to the Ravenports? Or to her mistress? Impossible. The only reason that Choi was likely to have felt he could use the student Mages was to clean the district. Nephres bit her lower lip vehemently. The fucking rat bastard! How many thousands of HDMs had she sent him to keep her operations running?

Seeing that the tunnel was almost closed, Nephres carefully backed toward the side tunnel connecting B743 to its adjacent filtration chambers. If she had to leave, then time was of the essence. Once she mingled with the flood of magical signatures in the Metropolis or escaped into the Outlands, not even Diviners would be able to locate her.

"Mistress, it's closed," Sui said. It was far easier sealing the tunnel than trying to enclose the interior to crush the inhabitants.

The other Mages had stopped attacking and were looking at their leader for further instructions as well. Nephres wondered if Sui was obsessed with her enough to leave them. Unlike Nephres, who had taken command of the operation months ago, these warren rats had known each other all their lives. "Sui, get the men to—"

A burst of lightning erupted in the middle of Nephres' Mages. This time, they hadn't stood so idiotically close to each other, mean their Shields wouldn’t interfere with one another’s magic.

Gwen Song and the Sword Mage emerged with a brilliant flash of silvery Conjuration. The girl no longer had her camo-optic cowl, giving Nephres a good look at her striking mien and flashing eyes.

But it wasn't Gwen's striking appearance that took her breath away. It was the Sword Mage. To Nephres' disbelieving eyes, the girl was restored from head to toe. Not only that, she was the very picture of vitality and haleness. With only a loose shirt and shorts to cover her shame, the Mage's exposed skin glowed with a metallic sheen of iron, her eyes two garnets flashing with merciless bloodlust.

How the fuck? Nephres felt her reality invert. Even the girls' hair had grown back!

"Expeditious Retreat!" Nephres turned and fled down the closest service tunnel. She had never been one for sentimentality.

"Mistress!" Sui called out to her desperately.

"Enhanced Agility!" Nephres sped up. When fleeing, time was of the essence.

Gwen returned to her companions with the battered Lulan in tow.

"Mao above!" Mayuree said when her eyes fell upon the Sword Mage. Lulan's face was a ruined, corroded mess. She had bits of cheek absent from an inquisitive tentacle as well as missing the soft tissue of her nose. Her arm was a stump kept from bleeding out by the paralytic poison of the Carrion Crawler. She was topless as well, one breast almost entirely flayed of its dermis, with pockmarks of suction-cup wounds running up and down the left lumbar. Only her legs, which had been submerged beneath the water, remained unmolested by the worm.

Yet, her wide-open eyes indicated she was alive and lucid.

Gwen materialised a healing injector and punched the solution into Lulan's chest. She needed to stabilise the girl so they could make their deal.

As the potion worked its magic, Lulan coughed.

"We don't have much time, so here goes." Gwen watched the red fluid enter Lulan's body, then produced a Cure Poison injector. She pulled, then punched the anti-venom adrenaline into Lulan's thigh.

The Sword Mage's body shuddered and convulsed as the remedy took effect. "Kill me," Lulan grunted when her muscles regained motion, her voice barely audible. "Put me down. I don't need your charity."

Gwen licked her lips. "Lulan, I am going to make you a deal."

"Kill me!"

"Listen, Lu—"

"Just get it over with!" Lulan gasped.

"Hey! Listen!"

"Bitch, just kill me already. I am ruined! Look at me. I—" Lulan made a supreme effort to rise.

Gwen slapped her across the remaining part of her face.

Lulan opened her mouth to speak again. Gwen slapped Lulan across the face again. She looked like she wanted to speak again until Gwen raised her hand as a warning. She met Lulan's burning eyes. "Good. Now shut up and listen. I am going to make you a deal."

Gwen produced a spell cube from her ring. It glowed intensely with emerald energy.

"I have a tier seven Regeneration spell cast by a tier eight Healer in here. It is capable of restoring every wound, regrowing every limb, and repairing every scar on your body."

At her words, Lulan's chest rose and fell as her eyes rested upon the cube.

"I am going to save you. In return, you will help us repel our enemies, Yes, that's right—yours and mine. I am sorry for what happened with the Elemental Sphere. It was an accident. I don't know if I can return Kusu’s daggers, but I will ask Caliban where they have gone and try my best. I also want no more trouble from you afterwards. Do you understand? Nod if you do."

Behind them, the pressure from the Stone Shape had ceased. Now there was the sound of shifting concrete coming from the furthest part of the tunnel.

After several seconds, Lulan nodded.

Gwen waited. She couldn't think of a reason why Lulan would disagree. Just look at the state of the poor girl. Jesus fuck. Apart from her legs, Lulan didn't have a single piece of her torso and face that wasn't mauled beyond all recognition.

"Gwen! I don't know what they're doing next," Mayuree cried out. Her wand's charges were almost out. "I don't know what they're trying to do. Flood the tunnel? More crawlers? AOE attack?"

"I’m getting close to being OoM," Richard informed them. "Going to use my last potion soon."

"Whatever you want to do, you better do it now!" Kitty hissed at Gwen.

"Okay." Gwen incanted the lock release on the cube from Petra, then redirected the manifesting spell from herself toward Lulan. Instantly, the healing energies of the tier seven spell suffused the Sword Mage, its potency so powerful it lifted her bodily from the floor. With a rapidness that defied even their wildest expectations, Lulan's lost limb restored itself, growing from a bloody stump to a pale white, flawless arm in less than ten seconds. Her dermis likewise regenerated, her face returning to its usual comeliness, and even Lulan's hair, which had been burned off by Gwen's lightning, grew long and silky down to her shoulders.

"Alright then." Gwen's eyes fell upon her one-time foe. "What's it going to be, Lulan Li?"

Lulan bolted upright, her body alive with renewal.

Her heart pulsed, transmuting her Earthen mana into motes of iron.

She regarded her surroundings, but there was no haze. What she saw, she observed with crystal clarity!

The red mist… it was gone!

Doubtfully, she circulated her mana. From her reflection in the water, she could see that her mana-lit irises were twin garnets, but they were no longer a cloudy wine or rusty red. As the volume of mana running through her body reached an apex, her eyes became two vermillion rubies, clarified and unblemished. Her ever-present headache, the oppressive feeling that something hot and rusty was hammering her brain, had all but disappeared.

Trembling, Lulan touched a hand to her left breast—the incision below her bosom, where the catalyst for the Heart of Iron had been implanted, was gone. Furthermore, as she circulated her mana, her motes of Elemental Iron felt unimpeded and rarified, flowing through her conduits with complete ease. All those injuries she’d sustained, all those conduits cut off by her brute-force training, sending the iron roughshod through her body, were thoroughly restored.

Even now, the healing energies in her body were continuing to repair hidden injuries.

"I…" Lulan looked around her, unsure what else to say. "Thank you."

Gwen handed her a singlet and a pair of shorts. Her face aflame, Lulan slipped the borrowed shirt overhead, then got to her feet.

"We'll talk later," she informed the Void Sorceress, the clearness of her voice strange to her, the clarity of her thoughts utterly terrifying. "For now, use me as you see fit."

"Sweep!"

The sword that protruded from the space between the planes was bright and razor-sharp, its edge honed by the monomolecular split between the Prime Material and the Elemental Plane of Earth. Its surface was speckled with impure ochre, but it was no longer rusty and misshapen.

With the sound of whispering steel slicing through paper, Lulan's sword penetrated the shield of the Transmuter before she was ready to defend herself, then sliced off her legs at the knees. The expression on the woman’s face was still one of disbelief as she fell to the floor. Her head landed with a thump, staring at her own severed feet before a torrent of blood turned the brackish water crimson.

The Fire Evoker let loose with several beams of Scorching Rays.

"Parry!" Lulan materialised a second blade that absorbed the blast.

"Lightning Bolt!" Gwen called, sending the Mage's shield into a dazzling display of crackling energy.

She was readying another Blast Bolt, but Lulan was faster than that. "Thrust!"

A second blade shot from the Elemental Plane of Earth and hit the Fire Mage in the face, unimpeded by its passage through the feeble Fire Shield the Mage had erected.

"Onslaught!" Gwen allowed the lull in danger to command her Void spider to make quick work of the Carrion Crawlers, now isolated from healing and frostbitten by Kitty's spells.

The Air Mage turned and fled.

"Lighting Bolt!" Gwen let loose another spell. This time, it penetrated the Mage's shielding, struck the water, and lit up the salty liquid.

"Impale!"

Like a flung javelin, a length of polished steel flew through the air and landed in the water with a heavy thunk. In the next moment, the water turned the colour of red wine.

Which one of these was the Crawler handler? Gwen searched the scene. There was no point to it now, though.

"Gwen, take us to the other side. There are three more." Lulan informed her quietly. "My Misty Step cannot teleport outside the line of sight."

Glancing at the dead and dying around her with a grimace, Gwen wrapped an arm around Lulan's waist and initiated a Lightning-based Dimension Door. At the same time, Caliban informed her that it had torn through the first Crawler and was now moving on to the second.

The duo appeared on the other side of the tunnel complex with a blast that sent the Abjurer stumbling. A dozen of the slavers were there, though apart from three Mages, the rest looked to be NoMs carrying various apparatus like netting made from a nylon-like substance and an assortment of melee implements.

"Shockwave!" Lulan said, striking the floor with a swing from her iron slab. A rippling wave of upturning concrete spread throughout the room, sending the Mages off-balance and flatfooted. These untrained magicians of the warrens had not undergone formal training, meaning their mana reserves were woefully low and their prolonged casting quickly disrupted.

Lulan's irises flashed as her killing intent swept over the slavers, sending a few of the NoMs to their knees.

"SWEEP!" An enormous blade almost four metres in length and half a metre across swept through the crowd. The stunned NoMs and hapless Mages screamed and cried as the iron blade harvested their lives in one swoop, sending a spray of blood and guts in a crescent arc.

When the Abjurer stopped Lulan's blade, the Sword Mage's eyes narrowed. "Sweep! Thrust! Impale! Sweep!"

"Please, mercy!"

"THRUST!"

There was a sound of splintering glass, then a severed head rolled away. The Abjurer had dodged and deflected Lulan for almost an hour prior, and he had furthermore tanked Gwen and Kitty's bolts for the last five minutes. Unfortunately for him, there was only so much a shield could take.

As if waking from a bad dream, the rest of the NoMs began to flee for their lives. Lulan moved to intercept, but Gwen held her shoulder. "I think that's enough." She was a single corpse away from hurling up all the contents of her lunch at D35. No purpose would be served by cutting down more NoMs. Though disturbed, Gwen was glad that the sight of slaughter stifled the growing feeling of satisfaction. What a fucking abattoir. That's enough vengeance for today.

Lulan retreated beside her, her face serene, cold and calm.

Richard, Mayuree and Kitty emerged from the tunnel. They soon informed Gwen that the already wounded Crawlers were accounted for between Caliban, Ariel and Kitty, for, sans their healer, the worms had been easy targets in an enclosed tunnel.

As they arrived at the scene of Lulan's merciless retribution, her team members baulked at the steaming mass of corpses. Mayuree's face paled, while Kitty had a look of vindication. Only Richard seemed to be energised by the total victory that Lulan and Gwen had wrought.

"There's one more who escaped—their leader," Lulan stated with finality. "Shall I give chase?"

The foursome regarded the Sword Mage strangely, as did Gwen. Who is this young woman, and why is she so collected? Where was the crazy-eyed Sword Mage?

"Shall we give chase?" Lulan further enquired.

"Of course we give chase!" Richard looked rejuvenated by a second wind. "I bet she's worth twenty CCs."

"Wait, let me try," Mayuree stopped them. "We're looking for that Middle-Easterner, right?"

"Yes," Gwen said. She had gotten a good look at the woman. "What are you going to do?"

Lulan used another Stone Shape to clear the blockaded tunnel. Employing her Greater Detect Magic, Mayuree caught motes of the Healer's diffused mana still lingering on the Crawlers.

"I don't know if this is going to work," Mayuree said hesitantly. "Too much mana floating around from both the filter and our fight."

"Do your best, Mia," Gwen said.

"I always do my best." Mayuree grinned, turning to the task at hand. With a flick of the wrist, she summoned two obsidian tubes bent in the shape of bananas.

Dousing? Gwen's mind was still reeling from the slaughter and took every opportunity to distract itself.

"Dousing!" Mayuree finished her chant.

Well, there it is. Gwen nodded approvingly.

To their surprise, the sticks shifted and tilted until they were pointed downwards and toward the northeast.

"This way," Mayuree said.

The party began to move to one of the side tunnels.

"No need," Lulan said, surprising Gwen with her impromptu helpfulness. "You'll never catch her at this rate. I'll make us a shortcut. Stone Shape!"

Their restored ally appeared to have a near-perpetual supply of Stone Shapes. Was it because of her high Affinity? No. It was more probable that Lulan's peculiar elemental compatibility with Earth made her low and mid-tier spells extremely cost-effective.

As for their final prize, for now, she could only follow the direction of Mayuree's dousing, with Lulan creating an entirely new system of tunnels that cut diagonally from B7 to B12.

"Restoration!"

Expeditious Retreat, when used excessively, exacted a terrible burden on the body. Even after healing herself, Nephres felt enough exhaustion to be on the verge of falling to her knees.

She had raced the entire length to B12, running, crawling, sliding and leaping across collapsed sections and hidden crevasses to get to the service tunnel that would lead her back above ground. She had a vehicle stashed at the exit warehouse. Once she’d made it into the city, Nephres Zalaam could safely disappear.

With great care, she checked her reflection. After all, she was currently Invisible. Potions of Invisibility were absurdly tricky to obtain; mostly because its controlled catalyst was extracted from Pixie-winged Mayfly scales. A single brew was almost two hundred HDMs at the source, escalating in price from trader to black market until it was close to eight hundred HDMs.

Nephres didn't mind. Anything was better than falling into the hands of the PLA, especially Secretariat Choi. With a burst of fearful adrenaline, she made it past the final section of the crisscrossing tunnels and found herself twenty or so metres from the iron grate connected to a hidden exit. Before she’d taken on the role of a procurer, her predecessor had built the escape tunnel into the exhaust port. Therefore, Nephres was confident she was the only one who knew of its existence.

As she approached the tunnel, she became aware of a white-furred creature sitting on its haunches. It looked like a ferret or perhaps an ermine, with beady eyes that stared straight at her.

Nephres readied a Shield of Faith as he approached.

There was something familiar about the ferret. A particular hint of ozone, perhaps, that lingered in the air, or perhaps the way its fur reminded her of a larger beast she had seen earlier.

The ferret sniffed the air with its nose.

Nephres froze mid-movement, scanning her surroundings.

The ferret made a throwing motion with its neck, tossing a white crystal in her general direction before fleeing down the tunnel. Nephres felt her stomach lurch as the crystal landed a few metres away.

BUNG!

A burst of light and sound struck the shield Nephres had prepared, momentarily negating her Invisibility as her barrier absorbed the sonic force and lumen brilliance of the blast. In the next moment, a torrent of water gushed from the tunnel, pooled around her semi-dome shield, and unveiled her whereabouts.

"Jump!" She leapt for the exit, but the water pinned her firmly against the floor. Nephres' heart tumbled like a boulder down a sheer cliff as her assailants emerged one after another. The Water Mage, Richard Huang. The Ice Mage, Kitty Liang. The one named Mayuree. Gwen Song emerged with her accursed ferret. And finally, the Sword Mage who had gone berserk earlier, followed the Void Sorceress with a grim expression.

Nephres gulped. Had she not seen such misery and agony under her mistress, she would have fallen to her knees and despaired.

"Enough with the invisibility," Gwen Song pronounced in her general direction. "Come out."

Nephres bit her lower lip. It wasn't as though she could turn off a potion!

The Sword Mage behind Gwen huffed with displeasure, then motioned with her hands.

"Shield of Faith!" Nephres swore, frantically channelling her mana into the staple Cleric defensive incantation.

An iron blade, polished and gleaming, struck her with the force of a small truck. She was lifted from the air as her shield shattered, sending her skittering and sliding across the concrete pavement.

The impact and the damage were jarring enough to dispel her Invisibility.

"Why did you attack us? Who are you? Who do you work for?" Gwen Song fired off a rapid series of questions as Nephres was lifted into the air by a pocket of sentient water. "I suggest you tell us the truth because Richard here can be very persuasive."

Nephres knew then that her time had come. It wasn't that she couldn't talk to the student Mages. They had no desire to kill her, nor were they uncivil. The problem for Nephres was that she knew death was preferable to what her future held. She could easily bullshit the students. Gwen Song had no idea who she was. Then what? Then she would be handed to the PLA—to Secretary Choi. Did Choi know who her employers were? Nephres wouldn't bet her arcane soul on it.

Of course, they would torture her, that was without doubt; take liberties with her sweet body even. As a Healer, she could withstand that—survive without lingering symptoms. Then what? Then the MSS would bring in the Mind Mages and those nasty Enchanters would comb through her drugged mind, sifting through the sand of her incoherent memories for gold.

What would she say?

Without a doubt, Geas or no, Nephres would reveal her true identity under delirium or fever.

Prod her brain deep enough, and she would speak. She would tell them everything. About Spectre. About the Outsiders. About Outland. About her mistress.

If someone had asked Nephres whether she would be a martyr for the organisation one day, she would have laughed in their faces. When she’d woken up that morning, what had she portended for herself? A fuller lunch would have helped. A final meal of her favourite things. Maybe another round with Yi, fulfilling another appetite.

Her eyes moved from student to student until they landed on Gwen Song. The girl was impatient with triumph, flanked by an obsidian serpent and a white marten.

Ah well, Nephres scoffed. My mistress did say that salvation comes in all shapes and sizes.

Chapter thirty-seven

No Place Should Murder Sanctuarise

As one sensitive to others' expressions and emotions, Gwen was the first to notice the fatalism that befell their captive.

Richard held the woman aloft in his water prison, exposing only her head. The rest of her body was tethered by invisible tendrils beyond the ability of a Mage unbolstered by advanced Transmutation to break.

"Well, let's have it." Gwen examined the woman more closely now that they were face to face. She figured they could start with some straightforward answers to gauge her level of cooperation. Her cross-examination techniques were solely derived from Ian Flemming novels, but it would have to do for now.

"What's your name?"

"Nephres Zalaam." The woman had a skewered smile unbefitting a captive. Her eyes were bright and intelligent, lacking the anxiety Gwen had anticipated.

"Who do you work for, Nephres Zalaam?" Gwen continued, a little taken aback at the candidness of her reaction.

As someone who had enjoyed a night in the MSS Hilton, Gwen felt flustered that the woman appeared entirely too relaxed for one imprisoned and soon to be handed over to Secretariat Choi. What awaited her was torture, maybe even a Mind Mage who would peel her brain like an onion. Then what? Stasis? Execution? A show trial? For a moment, a little voice at the back of Gwen's head asked if this was like aiding and abetting an autocratic regime, but her concern was quickly quelled by her remembrance of Nephres abandoning her companions.

The Healer raised her head and met Gwen's eyes with defiance. It was difficult to tell how old she was. Her appearance said the twenties, but the woman could be fifty for all she knew. Even in her captive state, the echoes of her Positive Energy Affinity were palpable, radiating from her like a beacon and setting Caliban on edge. Alarmingly, the woman made Gwen think of Elvia.

She broke eye contact, afraid that she would be drawn to that halo of positivity and life.

"Come closer if you want the truth," Nephres murmured in her husky voice. "I'll tell you."

Her party regarded one another. Lulan's aura grew tangibly sharper.

"You can tell all of us," Gwen derided the questionable attempt at gaining her empathy. If that was the game the woman wanted to play, she figured a little white lie couldn't hurt. "If you satisfy us with the validity of your answers, I'll put in a good word for you when we hand you over. It'll make a world of difference, trust me."

The Healer's citrine irises scanned her audience. Her sensual lips were split from their previous battery but now formed into a cruel crescent.

“Fine." Nephres beamed in an overly friendly manner. "It's your funeral."

Gwen looked at Richard, who nodded imperceptibly, indicating that he would not allow her to escape. She then looked to Mayuree.

"We're clear," Mayuree replied with a Silent Message. "No Mages within range as far as I can tell."

"I’m all ears." Gwen folded her arms. Besides her, Ariel leapt onto Gwen's shoulders in a show of force, menacing Nephres with its dainty little horns. Not far away, Caliban slithered to and fro, patrolling their surrounding as much out of curiosity as following Gwen's orders.

"I work for Elizabeth Winsted Sobel," Nephres said. "Of Spectre."

As the last syllable sizzled through the air, Gwen felt as though a Petrify had been cast on her.

She moved her face closer to Nephres. "You better not be fucking with me," she spat with so much venom and vehemence she startled herself. "I swear to God, Nephres, if that's your real name. I am going to do to you things you cannot imagine if you're lying to me. Your astral soul will be begging for mercy for the rest of eternity."

"Touché, I see you know my mistress," Nephres continued carelessly. "She always did wonder what happened to her little sister of the Void."

"Where is she?" The voice that emerged from Gwen's blanched lips was quaking with emotion.

"I am frankly surprised you're not taking advantage of your aptitude. There's no shame in it. We do what we do to survive. Certainly, my mistress is living proof—"

"WHERE IS SHE?" Gwen couldn't care less that her Void mana ran uncontrollably through her conduits, consuming the whites of her eyes. Around her, space seemed to distort for a moment, not as a tangible thing, but one that alarmed the souls of the living. Mayuree, the weakest of them all, suddenly vomited as nausea overwhelmed her senses. Kitty stared at her with suspicion and incomprehension, then moved in front of Mayuree, relieving the pressure on the Diviner. Lulan touched a hand to her chest, making her blade hum.

Her cousin, comparatively, appeared to read the writing on the wall.

"Gwen," he put up both hands, "hold it steady."

Under Gwen's dire gaze, Nephres' complexion fluctuated, though as a Positive Energy user, the mental abuse wasn't enough to break her.

"Do your companions know about the consumptive aspect of the Void?" the woman mocked her. "According to Mistress, not all Void users are capable of absorption. You are sisters in more ways than you'd think."

"Shut up!"

"Ha! Was that what Henry Kilroy saw in you? Did he enjoy your youth as he did our mistress? Did your dear Master—"

Thwack! Gwen punched Nephres across the face, tearing open a gash across her lips and breaking the bridge of her nose. A trail of vermillion sprayed from a nostril, drooling down from Nephres' chin.

Her companions stared. Gwen knew but didn't care. She couldn't think straight. Her brain was fire, her hair felt like snakes.

"Did he feed you? How did he start? Prisoners? You're a fool if you're not consuming every Mage you lay your hands on, think how quickly you can—"

Thwack! Another strike, this time in the kisser, filling Nephres' mouth with blood.

"SHUT UP!" With every word from Nephres' lips, Gwen felt her head grow hotter and her blood run colder. Elizabeth Sobel! She had not expected to hear that name so soon and certainly not like this. So this whole ordeal occurred because of Sobel? They were ambushed because Nephres had a history with her? Sobel was alive then. If so, she had to tell Gunther!

"Fine, fine, that upset you, I get it." Nephres swallowed the blood in her mouth. "Let's change the subject. Do you remember Edgar, Gwen? He loved you, you know, even if he didn't know it himself. The man talked of nothing but you for weeks on end."

Unpleasant memories ravaged Gwen's mind, memories she'd thought were long buried and gone. Her temple throbbed, her neck ached, her throat felt parched. Where Edgar had intruded, she could still feel the Mind Mage's presence like a lesion across her subconscious.

"He's dead!" Gwen hissed through clenched teeth.

"Ah yes—we have no idea who killed him. Some say it was the one called the Pink Salt Saviour."

"Does it matter?"

"Do you wish to know Edgar's real name? Do you want satisfaction?"

Gwen's complexion blanched and burned simultaneously.

"I can see that you do. You have very talkative eyes, Gwen. Did anyone ever tell you that? Edmund, that's Edgar's real name. Hmm, what lovely eyes. I believe Ed would have kept them as a fetish once he was done with you."

"Shut up."

"See? I know you very well, Gwen. I know everything about you."

"Who is this woman?" Kitty said, turning to Richard and then Gwen. "Do you know her?"

"We don't," Richard answered for Gwen. "I've never seen her before."

Nephres smiled sweetly at Gwen's companions, showing them teeth pink with gore. "It seems your friends are not in the know," she said sardonically. "Shall I tell them? Shall I be explicit?"

"You have a death wish." Gwen raised a quivering hand. The initial anger had gone from her. She now felt a screaming paranoia and a rising urge to silence the woman before she could blurt out more of her secrets, secrets that Gwen didn't even know she had.

"Playing? I am not playing, Gwen Song. I've won! Guess what I did before you came? I sent off your data to Lord Ravenport. Oh, you don't know who that is." Nephres laughed in her face. "It's alright. You'll find out soon. He'll find you and then you'll know just now exquisite the retribution can be from a member of the House of Lords."

"Who?" Gwen's voice wavered. Edgar's father? Lord Ravenport? The House of Lords? What did the Mageocracy's home parliament have to do with this?

"Oh, my dear, Magister Ravenport will have a field day with you. The things that repugnant man will do to a lovely thing like you. He will tear you apart. He will make you wish you’d never been born. Ha-ha-ha!"

While Gwen stared in stunned silence, her cousin took the uncomfortable lull in the action to audibly explain to Kitty and Mayuree that peerage positions made up the House of Lords, and at the very top, was the man on Nephres' lips, meaning if there was any truth at all to Nephres' claim, then it foretold trouble.

"Can we shut this woman up and just deliver her to Choi?" Kitty growled. "She's insane. A slaver rat in a hole, connected to a British lord? Who can believe that?"

Gwen heard the sound logic from Kitty's mouth but still made no move to secure the woman. She knew things they did not. She knew Edgar, or Edmund, as it were, and she believed Nephres.

Perhaps sensing that she had their undivided attention, Nephres continued her tirade. "Oh, hand me over to Choi, sure. That prick will hand me over to the MSS after he’s had his fun. You'd love that, wouldn't you, Gwen Song? I wonder if the MSS knows about the mistress and her connection to you. The bond you share with us. Shall I tell them how useful you will be in the future? What great hopes my mistress has for her little sister of the Void?"

Gwen slowly shifted her downcast face until she was at eye level with Nephres.

"That's right. Make no mistake." Nephres' voice took on a new volume and octave. "I'll tell them everything. About Henry Kilroy. About Edgar. About Sydney. About YOU!"

Gwen raised her right hand. To her surprise, the trembling had ceased. "No, you won't," she said quietly, her voice taking on an obsidian edge. "Void Bolt!"

"SLEET!" Kitty, observing her, caught her bolt cold with a sheet of ice that half-covered Nephres, freezing a portion of her water prison. "What the fuck are you doing, Gwen Song? Are you killing prisoners now?"

"Kitty…" Mayuree stood between Kitty and herself. "Leave Gwen be. Whatever this is, it's Gwen's business."

"No. She's crazy. Mia, get back here! What did I tell you?" Kitty pushed Mayuree aside and then stood between Nephres and Gwen. "You Mao-damned hypocrite!"

"Get out of my way, Kitty!" Gwen snarled, her mind bubbling with broiling emotions. "This doesn't concern you."

Her protest fell away when a part of Richard's watery prison, the frozen section, fell apart. Before the riled teenagers could react, Nephres Zalaam tumbled from Lea's grasp.

"Crap!" Richard tried and failed to reform the prison. "Gwen, don't let her get away!"

Lulan stood to the side, watching the confrontation unfold, likely confounded by the in-fighting.

To Gwen's horror, Sobel's servant landed on all fours. Then she sprinted for the tunnel entrance with a burst of supernatural speed.

"Lea! Gwen! Stop her!" Richard hollered.

"Kitty, get out of my way!" Gwen reached out to push the girl from her path.

"No way, not until you explain what the fuck you think you're doing," Kitty snarled. "Mayuree can track her down. But I am not letting you kill her. What does she have on you? Dirty secrets? What did she mean by consume? What prisoners? Who's Elizabeth?"

"GET OUT OF THE FUCKING WAY!"

"NO!"

"CALIBAN!"

"SHAA!" Caliban leapt for the fleeing Healer.

Kitty swore before she lifted from the air and turned towards the fleeing figure of Nephres. "Glacial Spike!"

Where Caliban had aimed to land and ensnare Nephres, a precisely aimed ice spike shrieked through the air on an intercept course.

"ONSLAUGHT!" Gwen poured her vitality into Caliban, causing it to gain the properties of Haste.

"Cone of Cold!" Unexpectedly, Kitty had another trump card. Her expertise was far beyond the likes of Gwen, whose mastery was wrangling the brute power of Lightning and Void.

"Lea!" Richard made his move.

Kitty's Glacial Spike struck a body of water, turning into brittle ice. Lea quickly discarded the solidified part of her body, then intercepted Kitty's Cone of Cold.

When Gwen made herself ready for another interruption from the Ice Mage, Kitty's forward momentum was stopped by a gleaming iron blade embedded into the concrete, threatening to split her in two.

"YOU!" Kitty turned to Lulan, her pale blue eyes flashing dangerously.

"Stand down," Lulan said. "Or be put down."

Now uninterrupted, Gwen poured her soul into Caliban, who had finished transforming into its spider form and was almost upon Nephres.

"Don't!" Kitty's voice shrieked beside her. "DON'T YOU DARE!"

"CONSUME!" Gwen spat pink froth between gnashed teeth, her thoughts smothered with tenebrous purpose. "CALI! DO IT NOW!"

"SHAA!" Caliban fell upon Nephres, who futilely put up a Shield of Faith.

Engorged with more vital force than it had never obtained from Gwen in any point of their Master-Familiar history, Caliban hurled itself upon the hapless Healer, opening its torso to reveal a secondary mouth under its cephalothorax.

"Mistress!" Nephres cried only once. Then the spidery fiend was upon her. Tentacles lashed out at her, one blue and one red. A crimson lamprey lip swelled and expanded, swallowing her head wholesale. The other punched into her abdomen, seeking out her liver and heart.

To the observers, it seemed as though Caliban simply tore into the woman before bringing her toward its gaping maw. With a delicate crunch, Nephres disappeared, clothes and all, into the Void of Caliban's maw.

Gwen’s over tense body relaxed, though she dared not check to see what expression Kitty was wearing. From the corner of her eye, she saw that Mayuree held trembling fingers over her mouth, then vomited into her hand. Richard remained impassive, his face impossible to read. Lulan glanced from Gwen to Caliban, then Gwen again, her eyes as wide as hen's eggs.

Gwen opened her mouth to make an excuse, but no sound could escape her quivering lips.

Her astral soul was on fire. And her physical body was in ecstasy. More terrifyingly, perhaps, her consciousness remained unimpeded, wholly free to perceive Caliban's gift of vitality.

Richard caught her as she fell backwards, her eyes rolling in their sockets.

"What the fuck is this?" Kitty's protest filtered through as Gwen landed in her cousin's arms, her legs as soft as steamed spaghetti. "Mia, we're leaving. Come on. We can't party with these… I don't know! Psychopaths? Wackjobs? Fengzi? They're a liability. They're insane!"

Lulan's eyes gleamed dangerously at Kitty. Kitty averted the Sword Mage's gaze and turned to Mayuree. Her childhood friend refused to budge. Instead, after cleaning her hands with a quick cantrip, she knelt beside Gwen and produced a Healing injector.

"Is Gwen going to be okay?" she asked softly, kneeling by her side.

Richard placed a hand on her forehead, where beads of sweat formed. Ariel helped by lapping up her perspiration, nudging her cheeks with its little pink paws.

Caliban slithered back in its serpentine form. After the terrifying deed, it had become well-fed and docile. From the looks of its slim body, there was no likelihood that Nephres still existed anywhere in the multiverse. For all Gwen knew, the Healer was now particles of Void drifting in the lightless and lifeless liminal space.

"Get the fuck away!" Kitty shouted at the Void creature.

"Shaa?" Caliban came closer, feeling very pleased with itself, a little drunk on the payload of life-matter. "Shaa?"

Kitty raised a hand in warning.

"Kitty!" Mayuree stood. Her face was no longer sweet. "That's enough. Calm down."

"NO! Did you see what the fuck that thing just did?"

"I did," Mayuree replied stoically.

"Then why—"

"KITTY!" Mayuree snapped, her face reddening. "I am upset now."

Kitty's instantaneous silence was louder than a full-faced slap. "It's my duty to protect you," the girl replied weakly.

"Protect me then." Mayuree's tone had a serrated edge to it. "If you're not helping, stand down."

Gwen attempted to direct her faculties toward taking control of her shuddering body. Her eyes balls were moving, she was sure of it, but her consciousness felt as though it was drifting through a lucid dream.

"So what happens now?" Lulan spoke, her voice full of concern.

"Is Gwen going to be alright?" Mayuree asked.

"I don't know." Richard took her hands and folded them over her thighs. He then checked her pulse and measured the temperature of her body using the palm of his off-hand.

"Gwen's strong," he confidently informed the others. Always thinking of her even when she’d showed them such weakness. "Gwen might bend, but she won't break."

"What should we do?" Mayuree asked. "Take her back?"

"No," Richard rested her head against his legs. "Now we wait."

After several unhelpful attempts, Gwen descended into a meditative state to stitch together her fractured psyche through sheer force of will.

She decided to rally her mind by thinking of her many "firsts", beginning with something utterly random, like her first taste of durian, which had made her puke. Others were more pronounced, such as her first Royal Easter Show, cotton candy filling her mouth with sugary happiness while Helena watched with disapproval. She recalled the first time she’d visited the underwater aquarium in Sydney, watching the penguins being fed.

Other recollections were blended with the Gwen of this world, such as her first day at school. Her first meeting Yue, her first sleepover. Debbie was there, seething with jealousy.

Her first crush had been Blackwattle's blue-eyed school captain, who had turned out gay. She savoured her first date with a girl—something of an eye-opener.

She recalled her first-ever job selling ice cream at Darling Harbour. She cringed at the time she’d been harassed by a man, a customer who wanted to pay her for something other than ice blocks.

A girl's life was filled with many firsts, from innocence to experience.

Now she was having another—the first time she had consciously consumed a human being without the buffer of the Kirin Amulet.

How did she feel about that?

Orgasmic was too gentle of a word, for the sensation had been akin to religious rapture. Where she had felt revitalised after being fed by Magus Kumiko's Wildland summons, now she had touched the body of Christ. Every cell in her body sang. The fatigue accumulated due to her ceaseless expenditure had disappeared, growing intoxicated with fortifying life.

Gwen cautioned herself. Having eked out a decade with Celexa and Buspar, she was well aware of the dangers of alchemical indulgence.

When finally the euphoria faded and Gwen regained control of her faculties, she tried to reorientate to the time. How long had she been out? Minutes? Hours? A day?

A few minutes, she realised. But it had felt longer. As the last vestige of liquid joy soaked her body, she felt the oncoming of guilt swallowing her once-white body, turning her skin black as tar. The abyss was lovely, dark and deep, and she had avoided staring into it for as long as she could.

But all that now came to an end.

Nephres Zalaam. Gwen etched the name into her mind. Was Nephres her first or had Faceless been her first? With Faceless, it had been revenge. With Nephres, it was self-preservation.

Self-preservation? Gwen wanted to laugh.

Even Brutus had had limits to his self-aggrandising moralisation.

She had protected herself, made a choice, paid the mana, and Caliban had done the deed. If she’d allowed Nephres to live, she would have been exposed. The CCP would have found out about the truth of the Black Sun, her connection to Amuldj, and her life and freedom would be forfeit. At best, she would be a specimen. At worst, she could be mind-raped and stowed in stasis. Worse still, her siblings-in-craft, her friends and her babulya would get involved, then what?

They would all be in a world of shit.

What was there to regret then? Her choice had been right. Her actions had been dignified. Her remorse was great, but she would live with it. She had killed the serpent whilst in its egg. There would be no more mischief from Nephres.

Maybe it was the rapture, but Gwen felt buoyed by a strange calm. She was out to sea, far out and alone, but it wasn't an unpleasant kind of loneliness.

Slowly, her vision returned, then Gwen Song, gleeful villainess, opened her eyes.

Her pupils, which had been vivid before, had now taken on a vital hue that was more opal than peridot. Her skin glowed with divine radiance, plump, pale, and tender as a babe's. As Gwen lifted herself from Richard's arms, she noticed something falling from her face, exposed arms and thighs. Dead skin, replaced by her rejuvenated dermis, fell like dandruff.

"Everyone…" Gwen spoke, her voice intense and thrilling. Her Familiars, now in their docile form, rushed in to nuzzle her. She placed a hand on Ariel and scratched its head. Her other hand tickled Caliban's faceless mien by reaching under its uncertain chin.

"Gwen, how do you feel?" Richard asked.

"I would be lying if I said I felt anything other than great," Gwen replied with an unhappy truth.

"You okay now?" Mayuree took Gwen's hand. "You have the aura of a Healer."

Her friend's words struck Gwen's heart like a festival dancer striking a tabla. "Help me up," she implored Richard.

Her cousin obliged. Gwen stood, feeling taller than before. "Thanks, Mia. I’m happy you stayed."

"I had full confidence in you." Mayuree beamed at her.

"I’m sorry, Kitty, for that sad display." Gwen turned to their deeply affected mutual companion. "One day, I'll explain it to you, I promise. For now, I assure you that I won't lose control like that again."

Kitty's cold snub came as expected.

"Lulan…" Gwen turned to the Sword Mage.

"We're not friends." Lulan put up both her hands. "Our matter is hardly resolved. Let us return to your superior officer with the news of what's happened. Whatever happens, you saved my life and gave me a chance. If I survive this ordeal, then we talk."

The girls shook hands.

"You don't have Kusu's daggers. Do you?" Lulan asked, her voice hopeful but measured.

"I don't," Gwen said. "Sorry for lying."

The Sword Mage smiled wryly. "It's fine," she replied, the timidity of her tone uncharacteristic of the berserker they knew. "Where I am going, none of that will matter anymore."

While Gwen pondered Lulan's cryptic message, Richard pointed upward. "Shall we?"

"Let's go." Gwen led the way. "Let's end this and go home."

B11 basement.

B10 basement.

B 9 Filtration Chambers.

The service lift ascended.

In between flashes of light and dark, Gwen saw that her companions were alone with their thoughts, their minds digesting the scene they had witnessed. Even if they tried to delude themselves that Caliban's consumption of Nephres was just like another attack, they couldn't deny that the Gwen who now strolled in front of them was no longer the girl who’d descended only hours ago. Occasionally, one of them glanced at her, then averted their eyes. Only Richard seemed unfazed, watching her with such benevolence that one might have mistaken him for a young father.

Ding! The door opened, revealing one of the PLA guards serving under Choi.

"Oh, thank Mao, you're all back!" His eyes scanned the party, then stopped at Lulan.

"What's wrong?" Gwen inquired.

"The Major will see you at once." The private saluted. "They're all waiting for you. We were going to send out a search party just now."

"Who's waiting for us?" Gwen asked quizzically.

The soldier met her eyes, but quickly averted her gaze.

“Everyone," the private stammered. "Directors, Professors, Magisters and Maguses, the whole lot."

Chapter thirty-eight

Mightier than the Sword

Gwen’s party stepped into the oppressive atmosphere of the conference room, watched by guards and strangers alike. She bowed at the door, raising her head to meet the half-closed eyes of Secretariat Choi, his face wearing a habitual, fox-like grin.

The man directed her attention to his left. Gwen's eyes followed, then the floor fell out from under her. "Babulya?" She could scarcely believe it. Why was her grandmother there?

"Gwen, dearest." Her babulya's face broke into a smile. "I am glad to see you're safe. I had feared a more unfavourable outcome."

Gwen had to resist the urge to break ranks and rush toward her grandmother. After Nephres Zalaam, she sorely desired a heart-warming hug.

Behind Klavdiya was another familiar face. "Magister Birch!" Gwen blinked. What was her Conjuration professor doing there? He sat beside her grandmother, as dandy as ever, looking unhappy in his vest and suit. Incredibly, beside Birch sat Professor Ma, who scanned the party until his eyes fell unpleasantly on Lulan.

Gwen followed Lulan's eyes until she reached Choi's right, where a Mage in his forties stood, wearing a mandarin jacket in blue silk. Standing beside the stranger was the final guest—Kusu Li, which left little doubt that the unusually dressed man was his sect elder.

Her party proceeded until their members stood in a row before the austere company seated on the opposite side of the conference table, all with unreadable expressions.

They bowed again.

"Good, everyone is here." Choi put his hands together under his chin. "Elder Luwei, you have the floor."

The elder named Luwei seemed taken aback that the entire party was only looking a little worse for wear. When his eyes studied Lulan, who looked as though she'd emerged refreshed from a day spa, his expression grew thoughtful. "Perhaps, we should listen to what these young Mages have to say first?" Luwei spoke to Kusu, whose eyes showed a man

"Very well." Choi motioned a hand toward the party. "This is not an interrogation, so say what you will. As long as it's believable."

Magister Birch and Gwen's grandmother both turned to look at Choi, who chuckled at his joke. Luwei gave the secretariat an irritated look.

"Lulan, you first," the elder said.

Lulan looked visibly nervous as she stepped up in front of her audience. With a motion that made Gwen flinch, she dropped to her knees on the vermillion carpet and kissed the plush fabric with her forehead.

"Sirs," Lulan implored the panel. "I disobeyed Elder Li's orders directly and attempted to seek out Gwen Song, who I believed at the time, was hiding my brother Kusu's implements. Despite my uncle's and brother's advice and warning, I chose to take action of my own accord. I allowed my rash anger to overcome my better judgement. For this, I am deeply apologetic. In my thoughtlessness, I have destroyed valuable infrastructure endangered and harmed the citizens of this district. The fault is mine, with no relation to either Kusu, Elder Li or the Huashan Sect."

Lulan's audience nodded. It was an excellent appeal for leniency and a favourite show of loyalty for Lulan's brother and the Huashan Sect. However, when Gwen saw Kusu and Luwei's open mouths, she completely understood their confusion.

This was their Lulan? Shouldn't Lulu be stepping out of line, screaming at the top of her voice, refusing to admit fault and blaming it on Gwen? Shouldn't she be red-faced, eyes glazed, bursting with Earthen mana? Who the hell was this model student? What had happened to the firebrand? Was Lulan under an Enchantment or a Mind Control spell of some kind? Had Gwen Song skin-changed Lulan?

"Well, that was easier than I thought," Secretary Choi chuckled. "That settles it then. Shall I announce the sentence?"

"A little hasty, don't you think?" Klavdiya interrupted the man. "Earlier, Secretariat, you informed us that three levels of filtrations systems had been disrupted and one destroyed. I would like to hear more details before severe punishments are passed onto one so young. Gwen, my dear, can you volunteer?"

Secretariat Choi's eyes moved between Gwen's director grandmother and her granddaughter, as if trying to gauge their game. Gwen could tell the man was only giving her grandmother "face". "As you wish, Director. Please elaborate, Miss Song. Miss Li, you may be at ease."

Gwen nodded. She had been building a narrative in her head since they'd left B12. When Richard had announced their return, she'd known that she'd have to spin like a laundry dryer in an election year to cast their fiasco in a good light.

As for Lulan, Gwen’s dislike of her had been derived from self-preservation, but then her ambient feelings of enmity had trickled into sympathy. When Lulan furthermore laid bare her grossly overstated confession, that sympathy had turned into compassion.

Lulan hadn’t been right in the head because of her magic, wasn't that the truth? The haywire magic had belonged to her sect. Now that their human battering ram had accidentally pounded its way into the wrong castle, they wanted to throw her under a bus? That was precisely the sort of thing that she could not stomach. Certainly, Gwen herself was no stranger to bouts of dark passion, Nephres was a case-in-point. Earlier, when they had ascended the rickety lift, she had spoken to Lulan, whose one worded fatalism of, “I’ll take responsibility,” had been both sad and aggravating. Prior to her near-death regrowth, the Sword Mage’s manifestations had been rusted iron. Now her swords were gleaming steel, which to Gwen, signalled a transformed Lulan. And since the Sword Mage had amply demonstrated her usefulness, Gwen's desired outcome was that if someone had to gain from this sordid, chaotic ordeal surrounding Lulan, it might as well be her.

Additionally, for Lulu's sake, she had spent a Regeneration Cube made by Magister Wen and Magister Dao. And so, having sunk that cost, Gwen expected returns.

She took a deep breath, smiled, and stepped forward with an aggressively provocative air. "Of course. Magister Song. Secretariat Choi. Magus Li. Magister Birch. Professor Ma. I will endeavour to reach the truth."

Gwen met her babulya's eyes, swept her gaze over the rest of her audience, then began.

"Good Magisters, honoured elders, madams and sirs. Lend me your ears for a moment and allow me to relate. In the beginning, we arrived as per Magister Choi's advice on basement level seven. There, pertaining to Professor Ma's coursework, we interacted with the locals and partook in some sightseeing activities, mingling with the locals in a friendly manner."

Choi's smile grew more rigid than the man had likely intended. Perhaps he hadn't expected her to have a way with words?

"When we reached the filtration section, Mayuree, our Diviner, informed the party that there were Mages following us. We further ascertained our circumstances and realised that these were not neutral parties but slavers. Next, we logically ascertained that since Boss Yi has promised us that his men would not interfere with our operation, the culprits must be a rogue party not under the control of the PLA or the militia of D109."

Gwen quickly scanned her audience. They were not in disagreement, which meant she could keep pushing. "At this point, we were presented with the dilemma of whether to wantonly seek the death of our potential enemies, who, by Mayuree's Clairvoyance, had announced their intention to harm us or to proceed with a slight detour. Therefore, our party resolved to complete Secretary Choi's quest without further bloodshed in honour of Professor Ma's guidance for the last six weeks." Gwen nodded at the NoM Professor. "For every NoM in the lost districts is our fellow human being, each capable of pain, joy, love and the pursuit of happiness."

Professor Ma inclined his head sagely, clearly pleased with her name drop.

"Our party found our way to the lower section of B7, where via an Arcane Eye, we found no fewer than four groups seeking to ambush us should we engage the Carrion Crawler. Furthermore, the size and scale of the Crawler indicated that it had been purposely bred for combat, not reagents and ingredients. Therefore, we chose to complete our task remotely via my Familiars."

"And your Familiars could destroy this beast by themselves?" Secretariat Choi enquired.

"Yes, sir." Gwen gave no more details. "Just one Familiar. I have the means."

Choi made a porcine snort.

Gwen continued. "Having deployed my Familiars, our would-be assailants were unfortunately alerted. Next, my Familiar delivered its payload in the chamber that housed the target. Unfortunately, this was when Lulan intruded into the scene. I am not in a position to state why she was present, but she did not interfere with the operation at this point."

Elder Li's brown eyes drift from Lulan to her with both brows knitted in growing suspicion.

"Once the Crawler had died, we’d planned to evacuate to our preplanned route, expecting to leave via the levitation platform to inform Secretariat Choi of the presence of the rogue slavers in his tightly controlled district."

Secretariat Choi looked to protest, but Gwen pushed on, raising her tempo and octave. "The ceiling was then Stone Shaped by Lulan, at which point she descended, demanding to know why she’d been attacked. As you can imagine, there was significant confusion due to the unforeseen circumstances of the friendly-fire incident. Had we known beforehand of her presence, we could have informed her of our dangerous operation.

"It was incidental," Gwen said, "that Lulan's confrontation delayed us significantly, and we became surrounded. My party was trapped in one section of the tunnel while she was stuck outside with the slavers. A chaotic melee ensued, after which we emerged as the victors. Lulan scored most of the kills, and we escaped largely unscathed.

"When our party finally regrouped with Lulan, she informed us that the Rogue Mages' leader, a Healer, had escaped. Taking advantage of Mayuree's Divination and being mindful that Secretariat Choi had promised us another twenty CCs, we gave hot pursuit until we cornered the woman, an individual called Nephres Zalaam, at B12. The woman struggled free when we tried to discern her identity and intent. I’m sorry, Secretary Choi, I know we overstepped our boundary, but Richard and I are starving for CCs. As a result, I allowed the heat of the moment to overwhelm me, and I erased the woman with the power of the Void. All I can offer is ocular evidence that we encountered and destroyed your enemy for you.

"We then checked the area for loot… I mean evidence. After which, we arrived here and were informed of your august presences, Magisters and elders."

The group looked at Gwen, each with slightly dazed expressions. Choi's face was scarlet. Her babulya expressed support and courage. Birch had no expression at all. Luwei had one that was dark and contemplative. Kusu's expression suggested bewilderment and surprise. Lulan herself faced the floor, her eyes staring into the carpet.

Choi opened his mouth to speak but had no rebuttal to give. Her story appeared to have covered all the angles; after all, everything the student Mages had done, they’d done for Choi.

"Fine. That leaves us with the matter of Lulan Li," the secretariat said after a moment's hesitation, putting Gwen's spell-proof narrative aside. "Unauthorised intrusion into the lost districts is punishable by stasis imprisonment for up to ten years, pending sentencing. Besides, she has caused extensive damage to the district, resulting in the death of no less than eight citizens and up to thirty with grievous injuries. What do you say to these charges, Lulan?"

"Guilty," Lulan answered quietly.

"Lulan!" Kusu stepped forward, but a calloused hand barred his approach. It was Luwei, his uncle and Master.

"What did I tell you, Lulan?" Luwei spat. "I gave you explicit instructions to stay put. I told you that if you took action on your own, I would excommunicate you from the sect if you bothered Miss Song again. Well, I suppose that's what you wanted. The moment you left your brother's apartment to seek out Miss Song, you were no longer a member of the Huashan Sect. We are not responsible for any action you perform. I hope you are at peace with the decision you have made."

In the wake of Elder Li's verdict, Gwen's sympathy for Lulan swelled like the moon tide.

Excommunication from the sect? She felt personally attacked. Displaced from both sect and family? Well, well, well, she thought, as her compassion for Lulan solidified into sympathetic indignation. Now ain't that a familiar kick in the ovaries.

Lulan Li slowly moved her face upward until she met her uncle's stoic mien. She could see the cogs turning in her uncle's eyes and sensed the slow building of bitter bile in her chest.

With clarity of her mind came the clarity of understanding—all those put-downs, punishments, the slaps across the face, the public humiliation and the gaslighting. Her uncle had been planning this for some time.

To her knowledge, Uncle Luwei belonged to the faction of Pei, the youngest son of the sect's head; a rare prodigy. Lulan and Kusu's old Master, the third son, would have desired his disciple, Kusu, to play a more critical role in the sect's affairs. Lulan knew she'd always been a thorn, particularly to the sect head, because her raw power had always excelled the boys, even if she hadn’t been entirely lucid or stable while wielding it. In a fair duel, if she supported Kusu, she could potentially demolish the authority and, most importantly, the "face" of any of Kusu's competitors.

She was, therefore, an existential threat to Pei.

The innocuous Pei had convinced them to challenge Gwen Song to build Kusu's reputation. The boy was still in high school, but he was as dangerous as a Rock Viper. Was she the sacrificial lamb? Was an offering of her head what it took to keep Kusu safe? Without her, there would be no threat to Pei, and Kusu could live on in the safety of mediocrity, eventually becoming an elder, taking a wife, becoming yet another branch family of the sect. That wasn't so bad, was it?

"Do you concede?" Elder Luwei demanded.

To Lulan's surprise, her lips refused to move. With the red mist gone, she realised just how much she desired to live in a world of restored colour. Even Gwen Song's confrontation with the Ice Mage filled her with curiosity and wonder, fulfilling Lulan with a desire to uncover the world's secrets. Who was Nephres Zalaam? What about Elizabeth Sobel? Where did Gwen draw her powers from? How could she die now? How could she leave Kusu alone to suffer under Pei? How could she allow this smiling villain to succeed?

"Very well, I will take your silence as compliance," Choi answered for her.

Her elder did not protest. "Lulan Li, Disciple of San Li, I officially strike your name from—"

"Don't! Uncle! No!" Her brother interjected.

Luwei ignored Kusu, his face flushed with anticipation. "—from the annals of the Huashan Clan and sect. Henceforth, you will return to Huashan the arts bestowed upon you by the ancestors. I, Luwei Li, Elder of Huashan, will carry out this sentence in the name of our sect leader."

With the sentence delivered, Luwei Li swung his arm toward where Lulan knelt. A thin blade, barely visible, appeared from a slit between the Elemental Planes and moved toward her chest, aiming for a space below her heart.

ClanG!

The blade struck a thick slab of iron, which caught Luwei's attack mid-air. Upon closer inspection, where metal had kissed metal, it was evident that the whisper-thin blade had chipped itself on Lulan's materialised length of gleaming iron.

Her uncle winced, then his eyes grew dangerous.

"The Iron Sword!" The senior Sword Mage sucked in a breath of cold air. "How can you manifest the Iron Sword? That's impossible. You're a woman!"

"Lulan?" Kusu was incredulous as well. "You are healed? How?"

To Lulan and the other's surprise, Gwen stepped in between Luwei and herself. "Miss Li owes me a tier seven Regenerate. Elder, I would appreciate it if the Clan of Huashan didn’t come between creditor and debtor. I can't collect my dues from Lulan if you maim or kill her."

"This wouldn't be the one Magister Wen, Petra and myself acquired for you, would it?" Klavdiya, Gwen's grandmother, immediately gave her support, making Lulan's chest tighten. "If so, that was a personal favour from Magister Dao."

Choi's beady eyes shifted between the parties and Lulan. "That may be so, but what do you intend to do with her, Gwen Song?"

Gwen turned to Lulan, her face hidden from the adults. "Don't you think you should repay me, Lulan?" The Void Mage winked at her.

Lulan's eyes glanced upward for a microsecond. Then her head fell lower in shame. "Yes, I cannot repay such an auspicious gift, but I cannot leave such a debt unpaid by duty and honour. Elder Uncle, please allow me the chance to repay Gwen Song."

"You're not a member of our sect or Clan Li anymore."

"Is this how the Clans repay their benefactors? For shame!" Gwen snapped back at her elder. "Elder Luwei, do you think tier seven Regeneration spells grow on trees? Lulu was a member of your sect when I expended the treasure, so I am waiting to see if you can pay me back."

Luwei's lips twitched. Her elder turned a shade of red more akin to pork liver.

"Sorry, Miss Song, I cannot allow it." The words issued from his lips were accompanied by spittle. "If you think the sect will suffer a rogue possessor of the Iron Sword to live—"

"Uncle!" Kusu interjected, now standing between his and Lulan, his face a mask of fury. "You told me tacitly that you'd spare her life. You said you would only retrieve the Iron catalyst for Huashan's techniques."

"Foolish child. Get out of the way. She has the proper form of the Iron Sword now. Do you want to be excommunicated too?" The elder warned.

"Please, Uncle. Show us some compassion! We're your nephew and niece!" Kusu stood before her and beside Gwen. "I can't let you harm Lulu."

"Ha!" Choi suddenly burst into laughter behind the three of them. "This is why I love Clanners. Never a dull moment. Luwei, assuming the girl lives, make sure you leave Lulan behind. I am not done with her yet."

"But secretariat," Gwen Song butted in again, speaking out of turn without blinking. "I have already informed you that the NoMs and Mages who assaulted Lulan were slavers."

"Oh?" Choi raised a critical brow. "What proof do you have?"

"We killed a dozen of them just a few minutes ago," Gwen stated. "That is proof."

"You expect me to believe that, do you? What makes you think the ones Lulan killed were slavers?"

"Are you suggesting that the ones we killed were not slavers, sir?" Gwen cocked her head. "Were you watching us? "

The secretariat furrowed his brows.

Lulan felt the hair rise on her neck. A secretariat had unparalleled power in his domain. How was it that Gwen could stand up to these august members of the PLA without bending her spine?

"I suggested no such thing." Choi's voice gained an edge of defensiveness. "I merely ask for proof."

"Fine. If these NoMs are not slavers," Gwen stepped forward once more, "then are they fishermen?"

"What?" The secretariat appeared genuinely flustered by Gwen's pivot.

"They had fishing nets, sir." The girl's voice grew mocking. "And shackles. Maybe they were looking for fish in the filtration chamber."

"What are you talking about, girl?" Choi's voice took on a keen edge.

"I am saying, sir," Gwen continued with a cadence that allowed Choi no room for rebuttal, "that within your district, your citizens are slavers, and the slavers are citizens. They do what they must to eke out a living. The ones who attacked us are citizens, but they are also slavers. Besides, isn't that why the excursion takes place in the lost districts? Isn't that right, Professor Ma? What difference does it make if one or two parties of Fudan students must defend themselves against the malicious elements of the lost districts? Where are our seniors? Are they in the building still? Have they encountered any difficulties? Are their hands dyed in the blood of your innocent citizens?"

"They are progressing with their quest," Professor Ma informed them. "I loathe to admit it, but the girl has a point, Choi. You and I both know how this works. Why are you drawing Barrier Sigils in the air now of all times?"

Secretariat Choi stared at her, ignoring Professor Ma.

"Lulan defended herself while lost in the district," Gwen countered tartly, her tone rich with malicious sarcasm. "These Mages she killed, unsanctioned. These NoMs that perished, unregistered. From the state of this district, Secretariat Choi, harping on about the lives of your beloved citizens is a rather precious proposal when the reality is so different from the words issuing from your mouth."

Again, Gwen cut in just as Choi was about to speak. "Professor Ma, in your lecture, you stated that the lost districts are outside of the laws that govern Shanghai and that many of the laws exist in grey zones of ambiguity differing from district to district, is that not true?"

"Without question," Ma said.

"Then Secretariat Choi has no legal authority over Lulan. Only law enforcement outside the district can pass sentences on the judgement of citizens who are not under the jurisdiction of the lost districts, am I correct?"

"You are," Ma stated with a look of strange exhilaration. "Indeed you are! Section twenty-two, article four of the district charter states that officers of the state overseeing a district only have the power of execution and imprisonment over citizens of the district, not anyone who is a citizen of the city. Mao! Can you imagine the chaos if carte blanche power was given to a mid-tier official to act as they please over anyone? There would be absolute chaos!"

"There you have it, Secretariat," Her saviour gushed sweetly at Choi. "If you wish Lulan to be prosecuted, I’m afraid you will have to engage a third-party officer from the judicial division of the magistrate's office to oversee the trial. They will have to engage in a thorough investigation of whether or not these citizens were slavers or if they were innocents, though I contest that I believe my party and Lulan innocent. I am sure you would welcome an investigation, no? After all, those who possess clean consciences, a trivial inquest from the MSS touches us not, am I right?"

Though Lulan was more used to taking a beating while on her knees, she could still discern that Gwen's threat slapped Choi's face like one of her Iron Blades.

"Nothing to add? Then I rest my case, sir," the girl ended with a flourish.

The secretariat looked as though he'd been stabbed, though the man was just as quick to recover. "Is Gwen Song's summation of your actions in B7 correct? Has she omitted any important information you would like to add? There’s a substantial reward if you aid in my proper administration of this matter." He turned to the eager-looking Richard. "Mr Huang?"

Richard grinned. "A hundred CCs, sir? Make it a good bribe, at least."

Choi grunted with displeasure.

"Then I suppose not, sir."

"Miss Mayuree?" The secretariat continued to Gwen's next companion.

"I have nothing to add, sir."

"Miss Liang?"

Kitty turned her head toward Gwen. The temperature dropped a degree or so.

Mayuree coughed.

"I didn't see anything," Kitty said coldly.

"There you have it, sir." Gwen posed like a teapot, with one hand on her hip and another showing Choi just how it was.

Choi, unperturbed, then looked at her elder. As if on command, Luwei once again turned his attention to Lulan. "Gwen Song, move aside. I need to retrieve the Heart of Iron."

Gwen moved in front of Lulan until she blocked Luwei entirely. "I am afraid I can't let you do that, sir."

"Move aside!" Luwei's mask of congeniality had shattered. "Will no one control this child? Will she listen to nothing?"

wen glared at her elder with disdain, making Lulan's body ache with fear for her saviour.

"You are gravely mistaken, sir. I am not a member of your sect and you are not a Magister. You have no authority to tell me to do anything I do not wish to. Here is not Huashan, Elder. Sir, this is Shanghai."

“Ouch—!" Magister Birch stubbed his toe agains the table.

Gwen’s babulya was smiling as well. Lulan could only marvel at her saviour's devilish tongue, for the truth could sting like a Hawk Wasp.

Though the old sects had always thought of themselves highly, their numbers made them increasingly less significant. How many Mages could the People's Liberation Army field against the Undead? How many Mages did even the largest sects possess in comparison? The reality was that the sects were no more than a mantis blocking the cartwheel of history.

A few metes away, her elder turned to Kusu. "Kusu, retrieve the Heart of Iron from Lulan."

Lulan felt her blood run cold. For the elder to be so devious—she had not expected that. Kusu was likewise pale and wobbling.

"Ha! What a crock!" Before Lulan's hope could even begin to wane, her saviour set upon her brother like a vengeful Harpy. "Is this the honour you hold like a precious baby bird, Kusu? A family that detests Lulu? Don't you know why your sister was sick? Wasn't it because she was given defective magic, Kusu? All those years she suffered, and yet year after year, your sect did nothing! Are you even her sibling, Kusu? Do you know what Lulan was doing? In the deep dark of the district, she came after me, demanding your daggers! Her hair was cinders! Her skin was charred! She was barely conscious! You know what Lulu said to me?"

Lulan quivered. Kusu's whole body shook.

"She said—GIVE ME MY BROTHER'S DAGGERS!"

Lulan's thoughts grew blank even as her chest grew warm. When had ever anyone spoken up for her like this?

"Kusu, has your heart gone to the dogs? Is your honour fed to brutish beasts? Lulan, get up!"

Gwen took Lulan by the hand and pulled her up. She rose in a daze, feeling like she was trapped in some unimaginable dream.

With a finger, Gwen poked a spot just below the soft mound of her bosom.

"This is the unkindest cut of all, Kusu. What will it be? Speak up!"

Lulan held a hand protectively against her chest, feeling a tenderness where her saviour had intruded into her heart. In her passion, Gwen had poked with rather too much enthusiasm.

"I—" Kusu tried to speak.

"Do you want to be exiled as well, Kusu?" Elder Li shouted behind the wavering Sword Mage. "Are you and your worthless sister ferrets of the same den?"

Kusu froze, then turned to his uncle. Lulan knew the answer before he spoke.

"Wocaoni-ma," Kusu muttered.

F-fuck your mother? The audacity of Kusu's profanity was enough to make Lulan's knees weak. Perhaps sharing her sentiment, the whole room grew silent.

"Kusu, say that again." Elder Li pointed a shaking finger at Kusu.

"Wocaoni-ma!" Kusu spat out between gritted teeth. "Screw you and Huashan! Make me attack my sister? Rip her heart out? GO FUCK YOURSELF!"

Lulan did her best to suppress the delirious happiness building inside her chest. Comparatively, her elder looked as though he had ascended into a new plane of existence. "D-Do you know what you are doing?"

Kusu gave Li the finger, then placed a hand on her shoulder. "Lulu, get up. Let's go." Her brother's touch dispelled every ounce of doubt in her body, causing it to rise all on its own.

"You dare?" The bark from her elder was punctuated by the distinct sound of manifesting Sword Sorcery.

Schwing!

An eye-blink later, the sharp trill of metal cleaving air hummed like a struck chime. A barely visible blade moved through the air toward Kusu and herself.

"Dagger Barrier!"

"Thrust!"

"Shield!"

Each of the students activated their defences. Her brother manifested the two dozen or so daggers that remained in a futile attempt to block the incoming swing.

Lulan meanwhile, had taken her deceased Master's instruction to heart. The best defence was an offence. Luwei wanted to kill Kusu? Fine, if the vain bastard was willing to trade his life for that of a disciple, then she would call his bluff. Unfortunately, Gwen's shield misfired ballooned, knocking Kusu and herself to the ground. Kusu fell forward, she fell backwards, and to Lulan's horror, Gwen became the unintended target of Luwei's sudden assault.

Keeekkeeeekeeee!

The screeching blade bit into Gwen's life-preserving barrier and made instant progress. As bits of her crystalline mana sprayed into the air, Lulan could see its cutting edge vibrate with an ear-splitting frequency. Lulan cursed. Her elder had used a Sonic Blade variant, meaning he was cutting through Gwen’s shield like a hot knife through soft lard. A vision of her saviour being decapitated flashed through her mind. Here was a foe turned friend who had spared her life, saved it again, then freed her heart from bondage. Where Gwen had touched, Lulan's Heart of Iron jolted into life. Should my saviour be maimed, Lulan told herself, then I will tear my elder limb from limb.

Keeekkeeeekeeee!

Luwei was as surprised as anyone else in the room when his famed Barrier Cutter bit into not Lulan nor Kusu, but Secretary Song's granddaughter. The attack was rich with killing intent, though the target, much to his chagrin, was one he could not maim.

"JUN!" a shrill cry from Director Song sliced through the air even as Luwei did his best to stop himself. In answer to the director's outraged howl, Luwei sensed the manifestation of a spell he dared not even dream of possessing.

"Disintegrate!"

A thin white ray instantly appeared, connecting Luwei's sword hand to an invisible point in space, creating a brief vision of spontaneous cubism. The spell that stuck Luwei also revealed the caster—a man in his late thirties wreathed with a halo of Elemental Ash. With every pulse of his mana, the carpet beneath the Mage's feet turned into white particles that swirled in tiny eddies as the residual energy from the spell dissipated. Where the white beam struck the vibrating blade's pommel, Luwei's implement ceased to exist, becoming fine dust. The unconsumed particles then ate into the hand that carried the murderous length.

Luwei tossed his weapon as though he was scattering hot ashes, but even so, his fingers were gone. Worse still, before he could feel fear, rage or any emotion, all attachment drained from his body. Like a viper of Element Ash, the Negative Energy from the Mage's unique talent demolished his will to fight. He looked around him as though awakening from a dream. What's the use in fighting? Why bother with a girl who would die from foolishness anyway? He should return to the Clan and meditate on his dao.

He carefully studied the stumps that now made up his sword hand. He then looked at the mocking faces of those around him. Somehow, he felt too tired even to summon shame.

"Know your place!" The Ash Mage wagged his spell-finger like the tip of a smoking wand. "Who gave you the nerve to harm my niece? Does the Sect of Huashan wish to be excommunicated from Shanghai?"

Gwen Song seemed only now recovering from her shock. "Uncle Jun!" she called out. "Oh my God! Why are you here?"

Elder Li shook himself awake from the Negative Energy-induced stupor to regard the Mage before him. Jun Song? The Mao-damned Ashbringer of the Northern Front? The Ashbringer himself had just mutilated him? Luwei looked at the stumps that now made up his sword hand. Dare he even mend the injury?

"This man is deranged, Uncle. He just attacked me out of the blue." Gwen Song stared swords at Luwei.

Luwei sighed. Should he tell the girl that there was no need for theatrics now that Jun Song was involved?

"No doubt." The Ashbringer's pupils were white-hot orbs. "I saw."

"I saw it too." Klavdiya had a hand over her heart. "My heart nearly leapt from my throat! Gwen, dear, are you alright?"

The director gave Professor Birch a kick in the ankles. Magister Birch looked up at the ceiling for just a moment, then stepped forward. "I too bore witness to this assault," he said flatly.

"Count me in," Professor Ma said. "I may not be a Mage, but as an attaché to the Shanghai Inner Regional Magistrate Advisory Board, I can attest that Gwen Song was assaulted without provocation."

Luwei looked at them disinterestedly, unable to summon the emotions he knew he should feel. So this is what it is like to be afflicted by Elemental Ash, he thought. What a unique experience.

"I… I apologise for my indiscretion," Luwei replied unceremoniously. "Deal with me as you see fit."

"Are you alright, Gwen?" Jun approached, leaving behind ashen footprints on the carpet.

The girl looked up at her uncle with a pained expression, her eyes twinkling wickedly. "I am alright." Gwen winced, then affixed her eyes on Luwei. "I feel so traumatised though. Nothing short of a concession or compensation will shake this debilitating experience from my heart."

Luwei understood the girl's hostility was a bad sign, but he couldn't summon the energy to retort.

"Gwen, that's enough." The girl's grandmother approached Luwei. "Allow me to apologise, Elder Li. My son is overzealous. Give me your hand."

Luwei obeyed.

"Restoration!"

Verdant motes of Positive Energy infused him, dispelling the Elemental Ash tainting his astral body. Several seconds later, he felt his faculties return.

"Give me your hand." Gwen's grandmother commanded the Clan elder. Knowing he wasn't out of danger yet, Luwei obliged like a child.

"Lesser Regeneration!"

Luwei had to confess that Director Song's Clerical sorcery was some of the best he had seen in the PLA. An intense, bone-rending itch travelled from his hand to his heart, then to his head. Luwei gritted his teeth as fingers, white and pale, sprouted from the charred stumps.

Armed with a new hand, he looked at the collection of Mages now standing in front of him. This time, Luwei felt fear. He quickly glanced at Lulan, whose mouth was open wide enough to fit a quail's egg, then regarded Kusu, who carried the same stony expression he’d worn the day his Master San had died.

"Alright, Elder Li." Gwen Song's voice was sickly sweet as she took her old place. "Now that you've cooled down, let me make you an offer you can't refuse."

Chapter thirty-nine

Dreams of Tomorrow

Elder Luwei was allowed to leave once he'd confirmed that Huashan would forgo any ownership over the Li siblings, lest they returned by choice. A verbal agreement was reached, observed by a secretariat, two Magisters, a Magus, and Professor James Ma. Should the Huashan Sect renege on Luwei's contract, the Clan's occupancy in Shanghai would become precarious indeed.

With the matter resolved, Gwen ran to her babulya, embraced her, then reciprocated the affection for her uncle. "Thanks, Uncle Jun."

"You take care now." Jun patted her head. "Be more careful next time."

Gwen could see that the Li siblings could scarcely believe an agreement had been reached without further violence. They had anticipated that at the very least, they would lose something precious, like their specialised magic. Kusu mumbled an apology to his grandmother, looking devastated, while Lulan held her brother's hand with moist eyes that gleamed with hope.

Mayuree and Kitty were still recovering from the escalation of Gwen's precipitous encounter, while Richard had an expression of barely disguised exaltation.

"It's not over yet." Jun pulled Gwen away from his arm, giving her a rap on the forehead.

As the infamous Ashbringer turned to Choi and the secretariat grew rigid like a Wildland buck caught in the path of a Disintegrate.

"Secretariat Choi." Jun inclined his head ever so slightly.

"Captain Song," the secretariat replied respectfully.

"I wish to know more about your dealings with Nephres Zalaam."

"Am I supposed to know who that is?" A lingering moment passed between the two as Choi held his face unmoving and intact.

"Shall we speak in private?" Jun offered. "I will only extend this kindness once."

"I…" Choi's eyes darted to the ashen footprints still visible on the vermillion carpet. "I don't think that will be necessary."

Jun folded his arms and studied the secretariat, whose face was like a jade sculpture. "Staff Sergeant Bui!" Jun called to one of the guards.

"Sir?"

"Tell Secretariat Choi who you work for."

"MSS Grey Ghost, Designation SG442123, sir."

Choi's expression remained masterfully unmoving.

"I am relieving you of your post, Bui. Good work, Lieutenant."

"Sir."

"I am not under the jurisdiction of the MSS or the Internal Security Review Committee," Choi protested. "You think a double-dealing dog can cow me?"

Her uncle cracked his neck. "Maybe I can. Maybe I can't. Are you a gambling man, Choi?"

Choi's eyes darted behind Jun.

"I'll say this one more time, Choi. Would you like to discuss this privately? Or do you believe the MSS are toothless dogs?" Jun said, his pupils taking on a hint of dusky ash. "You think I am just here for my niece? Do you think I have my men combing the depths because of a family matter? Remember, when a hound is going for your jugular, it doesn't bark first."

With every word from Jun, Choi looked as though he was perspiring all the liquid in his body.

So this is what Jun is like doing his job, Gwen thought. Her uncle was amazing. He was her idol.

"My office, please." Choi pointed to the door. As it turned out, the secretariat, though a gambling man, wasn't a fool.

"Gladly." Jun turned to the others. "Don't wait. The matter is going to take a while. Mother, it's getting late. Please don't tire yourself out."

"Alright, dear. Don't work too late." Klavdiya said warmly.

"Gwen, I'll speak to you later." Her uncle’s voice was soft and reassuring.

"Yes, Uncle Jun."

Jun halted at the door. "Five CCs per Crawler and twenty for the Healer, right?"

Gwen's face broke into a wide grin. "Yes, sir."

With Jun gone, the elderly Mages decided to return to the comfort of their usual abodes. Klavdiya told the students that a car would be waiting to take them back to the city. Birch offered to escort Gwen's grandmother, but she sweetly declined and thanked him for the gentlemanly offer. "Why a car? Couldn't you just teleport the two of us back?" Klavdiya asked.

"I wouldn't want to abuse my privilege," Birch dodged the question expertly. "Please, it's the least I could do."

Gwen watched their interaction with amusement and a little trepidation. Did her grandmother feel anything for Birch? Klavdiya had given three children to Guo, so a little flattery from Birch wasn't about to test her resolve.

"I'd love to speak to you a little more, Gwen," her babulya said. "Maybe next time you can show me some more of those dainty little restaurants you have found on University Boulevard."

"Of course, Babulya," Gwen said, squeezing the diminutive woman's hand tightly. As they parted, Klavdiya touched Gwen's cheeks strangely, her eyes lingering on Gwen's face far longer than was necessary, even for a doting old grandmother.

"Is something wrong?" Gwen touched a finger to her cheek. Blood, perhaps, from the slaughter below?

"My dear, if what I think happened did indeed occur, you should contact Magister Wen immediately. We need data, biometrics and understanding, not doubt, self-loathing and blame. Yours is a difficult milestone on the Path of Conflict, Gwen, one on which you cannot afford to wax sentimental. Many eyes are watching, my sweet child. Stay strong and show no weakness."

"I will, Babulya," Gwen said, thinking of how Petra and her Master would react. They were probably thrilled to hear her progress.

"Let me hitch a ride," Professor Ma said, clearly not reading the situation. "The two of you have a car separate from the kids, right? Let them mingle. I don't want to be an eyesore."

The look on Magister Birch's face said it all. "I'll Teleport you."

"What? No. What a waste of crystals."

"It's settled. The cost is on me," Birch said.

"But you just said—"

Ma's protest was unheeded as the trio left, Klavdiya waving at Gwen.

The student Mages were finally left alone, awkwardly watched by a dozen guards.

"Do we go now?" Mayuree asked no one in particular.

Gwen looked out the window, then checked her watch. It was now very late. They had arrived in the afternoon after 1400. She estimated that they had entered B7 around 1600. Now, it was nearing midnight. Conditioned by reflex and habit, she knew she should be famished by now, but she felt no hunger, not even a hint. Gwen swallowed her rising bile.

She shifted her attention to her companions. Including herself, there were six of them—Mayuree, Kitty, Lulan, Richard and Kusu.

"Let's see what car they’ve prepared," she said. "One of us might have to fit in the boot."

Leaderless and directionless, the guards allowed the student Mages to pass. The levitation platform took them down to the ground floor, where dilapidation and garbage kept company with the darkness. Feeble Light spells lit up the corridors intermittently, leading outward onto a courtyard murky with mist. The only source of visibility came from a hazy Daylight spell hanging over a PLA-badged people mover.

The driver popped the side cabin.

"I'll take the passenger side," Richard informed them. "You sit with the others."

"I could ride the bike back," Lulan said, glancing at Kitty, who clearly wasn’t pleased with squeezing into the cabin cheek-to-cheek. "I’ve got my White Ghost in the Ring."

"Naw." Gwen willed her inside. "Hop in. It's nice and cosy, right?"

The group piled in.

"Back to Fudan?" the driver asked.

"Back to Fudan," Richard said.

Without incident, the van moved out. The barrier went up. The barrier went down. Their excursion came to an end.

As they pulled away, Gwen was drawn to the dark silhouette of D109 in the distance, growing more vague and faint with every kilometre. It was a dark city and an apt metaphor. The poor sods. I hope Uncle Jun's investigation will make their lives just a little bit better. Was the trip a success or a failure? She had gained something in there, but she'd lost something too.

The van soon traversed the fourth orbital highway, the dark recess of the world around them blossoming into illumination. Light posts, sedans and lorries. The light of civilisation and suburbia appeared one after another, polluting the misty atmosphere with a dazzling display of vivid colours.

In the distance, the splendour of Shanghai's megacity glowed like a mirage, setting the heavy vapours of the midnight fog aflame.

In the cabin, the Li siblings were discussing their immediate futures.

"We would have to leave the apartment, of course. The Clan owns it," Kusu had never thought she would be one day worried about where to live.

"It's father's private property, though," Lulan said. "Before that, it was mother’s."

"Well, it isn't ours. Do you think our father would stand up to the elder or the Clan head? He's an accountant." Kusu sighed. "So you're feeling fine now? No more mist?"

"Not for now." Lulan stretched out her arms, then folded them when Gwen leaned in to speak.

Kusu watched the girls, aware that their saviour was a beautiful woman but also alarmed by his sister's sudden outburst of femininity. That Lulu was a girl was a fact, but one he had credited. No one saw Lulan as a female within the Clan, much less a woman, because she could beat the boys black and blue without batting an eye.

To distract himself, he shifted his attention to the Void Sorceress, whose frenetic energy and glib tongue were why they had the freedom to live in the crack between a rock and a hard place. Kusu felt happy about that, though his exhilaration was paralleled with trepidation.

The life of a sect member was regimented and orderly. Training to learn skills. Training by carrying out missions. Training by sparring and participating in the internal disputes of the Clan. The rest of the time, they ate, slept and occasionally got a glimpse of the world outside the sect's sacred grounds.

Select individuals, such as Kusu, Lulan, Pei and others, were sent away to "mingle" with outsiders to broaden their horizons. Occasionally, these individuals never came back. Primarily, this was because they died performing some service to benefit or defend the sect. Once or twice per generation, the colourful world outside proved too much for young Clanners to return to the monotony of monastic training. These rogues who no longer wished to dedicate themselves to the single-minded cause of the sect were then cleansed.

Their uncle, Luwei, had been thoroughly beaten. What followed would be at the discretion of those involved. If the Magisters kept the encounter to themselves, the sect would try to put it behind them. If they boasted and mocked Huashan and made them into a public spectacle, Lulan and Kusu should expect an Iron Blade in the back very soon. For this reason, Kusu was under no delusion that he and Lulan would have to be discreet if they wished to make it to graduation. Lulan was already a second year, while he was still in his first.

And what about the Clan's secret techniques? Kusu and Lulan knew nothing about the Heart of Iron other than that they had a catalyst embedded and the incantations necessary to use it. What if someone at Fudan had designs on their talent?

Kusu hoped it wouldn't come to that.

If Huashan still made a move on the siblings, the Magisters would speak out. If the Magisters spoke out, Huashan would have to silence the siblings. And if they were to perish, both the Magisters involved and Huashan would lose face, not to mention that the Ashbringer himself would have words with the offenders. Therefore, the best possible outcome for all parties was to keep quiet. As for the siblings, all they could do was walk the tightrope and hope there were no sudden gusts.

"Kusu," Gwen was done comforting his sister. "What's your plan from here on out?"

"Get registered at the Fudan Tower, I suppose." He hadn't stopped thinking since they left D109. "That way, we gain some protection and enough employment to keep us in Fudan."

"I'll be joining the Pudong Tower in the future," Gwen said, looking over at Lulan. "For now, I am registered with Fudan's provisional Tower Two."

"We'll be going there first thing in the morning then." Kusu smiled, scarcely believing that they and Gwen had been at each other's throats days ago. He bowed his head. "Thank you for saving my sister."

"I couldn't have done it alone." Gwen shook her head modestly. "It was Professor Ma and all the others. You're giving me too much credit."

"But they were there for you," Kusu said.

"Hardly." Gwen grinned, forcing Kusu's heart to up its cadence. "Magister Birch was present for a reason. My uncle was there for Choi. Professor Ma was there because that was his job. I suppose only Babulya was there for me. So as I said, you're giving me too much credit."

"I owe you my life twice now," Lulan said. "You can't deny that."

"I won't." Gwen beamed at her.

"Whatever you need in the future, just let me know," Lulan said. "I'll do whatever is in my capacity."

"Good, but take care of yourself first," Gwen advised sagely. "You're not helping me if the both of you end up homeless and drop out. Do you have money?"

"I've got funds saved up, from my previous Tower missions. The sect took its share, but I've got enough," Lulan replied. "I can sell my bike as well. Kusu and I can take on some small-scale missions in the Orange Zones."

"Do you have a place to stay?" Gwen asked.

"No, but we'll manage," his sister stated hastily.

"Don't tell me you're going to huddle up in a park." Their saviour grimaced. "Have you ever rented before? Or visited a real estate agent? Do you have your documents on you? ID cards? You might need at least two hundred points of identification to pass muster. How about a bank card?"

The siblings looked at one another, Kusu seeing a side of Gwen he hadn’t expected.

"We'll be fine," Lulan muttered softly, smiling in a manner that made Kusu's heart melt. "We can find a hotel or something for our stuff.”

Kusu coughed. In truth, everything they owned was already on their bodies.

"I can lend you this for a while until you find a place." Gwen produced something that Kusu recognised as a Portable Habitat. "It doesn't belong to me. It belongs to the Melbourne Tower. I was going to return it soon, but there's no rush. It utilises one HDM per application, which lasts around twelve hours."

Kusu felt his heat skip a beat. "A military Portable Habitat!" his lips parted in surprise. "I've only ever seen our seniors carry such a class of Magical Device, and they had to commandeer it from the requisition elder."

"Gwen, this is too much." Lulan shifted her petite body uncomfortably. "We owe you so much already."

"As I said, it doesn't belong to me. I’m lending it to you until I need it back," she insisted.

"But—"

"Just take it and set it up under our building for now," Mayuree said. "Trust me, Gwen's right. You don't want to be sleeping somewhere random if your sect's people come knocking. You'll be perfectly safe if you stay near campus until the whole thing blows over."

"We'll get it back to you as soon as we can." Kusu prodded his sister, hinting at her to let the matter drop. "Maybe tomorrow, at worst, a few days from now. Thank you, and everyone else here as well."

"Sure." Gwen passed it over. "Lulu, is your ring large enough?"

She nodded and Kusu wondered when the girls had grown close enough to use pet names so casually.

"Lulu." Kusu chuckled. "Uncle San, our Master, used to call her that."

"Sorry," Gwen said. "I didn't know."

"No, it's fine." Lulan waved away Gwen's apology.

"Master was trying to find a way to help Lulu," Kusu said. "But a year ago, the sect sent him away to participate in state-sanctioned military service. Every year, the sects send a few outer circle members led by a senior member of the inner circle up north. Because Master volunteered, we didn't have to go."

"We received news that he died in April," Lulan explained, her eyes soft and misty. "Six months after the fact."

"Sounds like you guys have your circumstances to contend with." Gwen sighed. "It must have been hard."

"Your Clan sounds like a real piece of work," Richard said from the front seat. "How many of those they send out come back?"

"About half, maybe less," Kusu confessed dejectedly.

"Sounds like factional rivalry to me," Richard observed. "Back in Prince's, it wasn't strange if people who pissed off the higher-ups were sent on dangerous missions to do some good before they were discarded."

"Uncle San wanted Kusu to participate in the contest for the next head," Lulan explained. "Of course, I was going to help Kusu."

"Now that I think about it, it probably has something to do with Pei." Kusu raised a finger conspiratorially. "That's the Grandmaster's younger son. He's the closest disciple with the talent to beat Lulu. There's talk that he's being set up for the position of the inheriting disciple. I guess it all makes sense now. Poor Uncle San."

The van grew silent.

"Oh!" Lulan looked up. "Gwen, do you have a brother called Percy?"

"I do." Gwen looked suddenly sad. "Why?"

"He was the one boasting to Pei about you. I think your brother and Pei are both students at Xiangming Metropolitan Selective High School, right?"

"I think so," Gwen replied.

"Pei told us to challenge you because your brother had told him that you've been excommunicated. He even showed Pei some kind of Amulet?" Lulan said. "Pei said that if we defeated you, we could take over all the fame you've been gaining. Pei said this was an opportunity that appeared once in a lifetime—a famous prodigy, ripe for the plucking."

"Really?" Gwen's voice lowered an octave.

"Lulu's just stating what she knows," Kusu said quickly. "Don't worry about it. I’m sure Percy didn't mean it."

The three student Mages exchanged tired looks. Together, all three sighed.

"I’m sorry, Gwen." A voice came from the back. It was Mayuree. "I know how much you love your brother. He's still young, just a child. Maybe it was a careless slip of the tongue?"

"Pretty bloody specific for a casual slip, the little shit. Percy's got a habit of being a bit of a fucker, ain't he?" Richard retorted from the front. "That amulet would have come in bloody handy about now, eh?"

A moment passed before their saviour could respond. "It's alright." Her voice seemed far away and distant. "He's just a boy."

The atmosphere in the car took on a new weight. This time, Kusu knew the conversation had indeed died.

The van pulled up at the Fudan apartments, dropping off the student Mages at the circular parking bay of B1.

Richard yawned and informed them that it was now the witching hour. Looking up, they could see that the Penthouse suite and Gwen's apartment lights were still lit.

"You can set up in the sky garden if you want," Mayuree told the Li siblings. "I'll speak to management and let them know."

Thank you." Lulan inclined her head while Kusu bowed.

"Let's head up," Gwen said. "We can have breakfast together. I know a few good places around campus and on the boulevard."

"How about my place instead?" Mayuree offered. "I'll get Lei to prepare for company."

"No." Kitty sneered.

Mayuree silenced her friend by putting a finger against her lips.

"That would be wonderful," Gwen answered for the rest of them.

The lift ascended.

Gwen waved the siblings goodbye at the mid-section. A sizeable balcony had been turned into a sky garden for the public to enjoy the privileged view offered by B1. Since the Portable Habitat could not be set up indoors, the private garden made a perfect temporary location.

"See you tomorrow. Please rest well, Miss Song." Kusu bowed, nodding to his sister, who bowed as well. "Allow me to thank you again for your aid tonight."

The remaining foursome rode the rest of the distance in uncomfortable silence until reaching Gwen's level.

"Thanks for all the help, Mayuree. You were excellent." Gwen hugged her friend.

"You were the one who was instrumental, Gwen," Mayuree said, blushing.

"Kitty, thanks for holding out for me. I won't disappoint you next time." Gwen extended a hand.

Kitty rigidly reached out with her dainty white fingers and took it. "I hope I don't come to regret tonight," she replied. "I'll be watching you closely, for Mayuree's sake."

Gwen nodded solemnly.

The lift door opened.

Richard exited, followed by Gwen waving a short goodbye.

"Dick, G'night."

"G'night, Gwen." Richard caught her shoulders before she could leave. "If you want to talk or need anything, I am just next door, alright? Anytime."

"No worries, Dick," Gwen decided to hold on to her cousin for a wee bit longer to fortify her soul.

Click.

The door to Gwen's apartment opened.

"Gwen! Richard! You're back!" Petra was in a loose shirt and shorts. From the looks of it, she'd been waiting for them. "I heard from Magister Wen that you used the Regeneration Cube. Are you alright? What happened?"

Seeing Petra, Gwen felt the compounded tension within her body release like gas from a screech cooker. "Pats!" She left Richard's arms and raced to her cousin.

"Gwen?" Petra allowed her cousin to squeeze her tight. "Richard, what happened?"

"The inevitable happened," Richard replied. "You need to call Magister Wen and inform her right away."

"Yeah," Gwen said. "I need to know if there are aftereffects."

Her cousin's eyes widened for a second, then filled with softness. "Alright. Goodnight, Richard. I'll take care of her."

"See you tomorrow. Breakfast is at Mayuree’s."

Petra watched Richard go, then brought Gwen into the apartment. She dimmed the lights, then settled her pensive and withdrawn cousin on the couch.

"I am sorry it happened after all," Petra spoke softly. "Can I get you some tea?"

"Yes, please." Gwen laid herself out on the couch, sinking into the softness of the enveloping leather. "No sugar, please. It's late."

"Sure." Her cousin heated the water with a quick cantrip, raising the tea's optimum temperature. "Milk?"

"I'll take it black."

"Alright." Petra sauntered over and handed her a ceramic mug.

"So, what's it like?" she asked after they sipped the first few mouthfuls.

Gwen took a long deep breath, allowing the air to flow from her lungs languishingly. "I want to say it was terrible. That I was horrified. But I would be lying."

"Was it…" Petra did not mince words. "Good for you?"

"Oh, Pats, it was pleasurable like you would not believe," Gwen continued softly. "It felt so intense, I couldn't think of anything else, not even remorse. It was like I was filling up with new life. How could anyone get enough of that?"

"I see." Petra cupped her drink. "Addictive?"

"I don't know. I am…" Gwen searched for a word but chose to dispense with the euphemism. "Right now, I am feeling full."

"Who was it that Caliban ate?"

"Nephres Zalaam, a Slaver. someone connected to my past in Sydney."

"Your old Master? Gunther Shultz? Almudj?"

"All of the above."

Petra made an "o" with her lips.

"I haven't told you the whole story, have I?"

"You don't have to." Petra waved her off. "A girl should have her secrets."

"Pats…"

"I would have to tell Master if you told me," Petra explained, "so I don't mind. Really."

"Another time then."

"Another time."

"Caliban ate her in front of Kitty and Mayuree."

"Christ. Are the pair trustworthy?"

"I think so. Mayuree, at least. We are ‘bonded by fate’, her words, not mine. Kitty should be fine until Mayuree fulfils her vision and has no more use for me."

The two girls sipped their drinks.

"Would you do it again?" Petra inquired carefully. "Out of necessity, I mean."

Gwen had to force the words from her lips. "I think I would."

"How're your sigils? What'd she give you?"

"What did I steal from Nephres, you mean?" Gwen groaned bitterly. "She was a tier six Healer, so I'd guess Evocation and Transmutation, maybe a little Conjuration. Who knows?"

"Master will probably want a full scan," Petra muttered. "If you wish to rest, I'll talk to her."

"No, no," Gwen said. "It's fine."

"You don't have to."

"But I want to," Gwen said distantly. "Babulya is right. I need to know, not run."

Petra placed her mug on the coffee table and then arranged herself so that Gwen's head rested across her lap. Below Petra's soft eyes, Gwen inhaled the vaguely sweet scent of shampoo and conditioner. She welcomed the warmth of her cousin's thighs against the nape of her neck, feeling the flow of heat connect them. Very occasionally, there was a slight gurgle from Petra's abdomen that made her want to giggle.

After they remained in the same position for a quarter of an hour, Petra said, "Gwen?"

"Yeah?" Gwen was in a state of zen.

"I’m sorry, Gwen." Her cousin was apparently at her limits. "Please take a shower. You stink of gore.”

End Vol 4

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Glossary

Sanctioned Schools of Magic

(Sigils by Lampshade)

Evocation

The most commonly awakened school in modern Spellcraft, Evocation is a school that manipulates energy. Evokers become the mainstay of the citizen soldiers, wielding spells of Fire, Earth, Water and more exotic elements such as Lightning or Radiance.

As Evokers mature, they become more specialised in a particular elemental affinity, taking up specialist equipment, attunement and contract spirits. In the media and propaganda, the Evoker is the archetype Mage, the spell slinging, fireball blasting sorcerer of yore, tapping into and drawing limitless power from the elemental planes.

Abjuration

Abjurers weave spells that protect, block, dispel or banish. An Abjurer is a common but highly sought after profession. Abjuration makes shielding stations possible. An Abjurer possesses the unique ability to utilise restoration spells such as De-curse and the ability to dispense protective AOE combat buffs. Specialists in this field typically contract elementals of earth, ice and water, all of which are relatively common.

Conjuration

Conjuration is a school that materialises creatures or materials for the caster. A Conjurer becomes a one-man army after mastering higher tiers of magic. Through familiar rituals and/or contracting magical creatures, Conjurers gain lifelong companions that grow with the Mage in power. Due to this advantage, it is not uncommon for Summoners to become several magnitudes more powerful than Mages of equal tier. The disadvantage of Conjuration is the persistent mana drain caused by most of its sustained effect spells and crippling loss of combat potential to specialised Abjuration such as Banish. Certain Conjurers choose to focus on the summoning of items or beings. These valuable individuals are also responsible for the teleportation circles around the cities.

Divination

Diviners reveal information. They are highly prized for their cognisant abilities in detection and foretelling. Many Diviners go on to become telecommunication specialists, becoming key intelligence and strategist operatives who serve a multitude of critical roles. Other schools of Divination focus on disaster deterrence by reading the threads of time and fate.

Despite their lack of offensive capabilities, it is said that the most influential Magi on the United Nations Council is the Oracle of the Acropolis. Though the Divination school has no preference for elemental afflictions, it is a school that synergises well with subsequent studies of other schools. Many Diviners go on to become Magus or Magister.

Enchantment

The school of Enchantment remains the most difficult and expensive to train of all schools. Capable of imbuing items and buildings with protection, strengthening materials and extending persist phenomena, Enchanters are essential to humanity’s cities. The world's most successful manufactoriums and artisanal workshops are all operated by skilled Enchanters. Unlike regular Mages, many Enchanters seek to master additional schools such as Transmutation or Abjuration for the creation of magical items. A dangerous school within-a-school of Enchanters are those whose abilities allow them to control, manipulate and glamour the minds of others. Mind Mages are closely watched by government forces for the misuse of mind-altering effects on others could lead to life-imprisonment or banishment.

Illusion

Illusion is the magic of mirage, the altering of perceptions to create false visions. Many Illusionists go on to become involved in espionage if they choose the path of the militant. Many others, however, have elected media and entertainment, creating spectacles for adoring audiences, becoming superstars of immense prestige. Illusion spells which deal damage attack the mind directly, creating what is known as psychic feedback.

Transmutation

Transmutation is an unusual school in that it changes the caster and the objects they touch, manipulating the properties in powerful ways. In the present world, Transmuters become builders, architects and creators, working hand-in-glove with Enchanters. In combat, some Transmuters choose to specialise in manipulating life itself, changing plants, creatures and even themselves to become deadly and proficient in the art of war. It is said that Transmuters possess the most versatile school of all and enjoy the most lauded status after that of Evokers. An overall well-rounded School of Magic.

Biomancy

The Clerical School of Healing Magic has always existed in human history in one form or another. Some say that this was the original “school” of magic. In modern Spellcraft, Clerical magic exists between Conjuration and Evocation and is considered a hybrid school of magic. Exclusively, Biomancy requires mages attuned to the Positive Energy Plane. The combination of Healing Magic and Positive Energy often shrouds the Biomancer with a “halo” of sorts.

Necromancy

The dreaded School of Necromancy was banned after WWI following the Geneva Convention. Currently, the school is studied only by sects authorised by the U.N., arguing that the study of souls and the afterlife is inseparably connected to matters of faith, culture and religion. For many scholars, the irony of the matter is that Necromancy is most likely the most ancient school of magic in the world, dating back to the Egyptian pharaohs, in an age when man first uncovered magic. As such, it is more accurate to say that the summoning, raising and animation of the dead is strictly forbidden, as much of the old world turned into ash and cinder following The Great War with the Undead.

Other Schools of Magic likely exist but lie beyond the reach of the ordinary Mage. These include Faith Magic, ancestral worship, old world shamanism, naturalism, animalism and so forth. By the same measure, rumours of humans learning the magic of monsters, magical beings and Demi-humanoids, or Demi-humans learning human Spellcraft abound.

Elements & Elemental Magic

The Prime Material Realm

The primary elements of the material plane are what astrologists propose our world is made from. It is the very stuff of existence itself, existing in perfect harmony. It is suggested that when a Mage is attuned to a certain element, it is because an excessive element is present within their body. Though exceedingly rare, there exist individuals who are born capable of tapping into all four ary elements, becoming mages capable of manipulating wood and other natural phenomena, hypothesised by eastern Spellcraft as an individual element.

Prime Energy Planes

The Positive Plane—The Plane of Positive Energy is a place of pure life force. It is where the healers draw their power to heal and mend one's broken bones. The undead are fearful of this energy and the unwary caster should be as well. Too much positive power without the ability to channel it may lead to strange mutations and cancerous tumours.

Negative Energy—Where Positive is life, Negative is death. The undead are tethered to this plane, drawing their undead lifeforce from this domain. When living creatures utilise Negative energy, they suffer Negative drain—rapidly diminishing vitality. In the old days, the Mage world saw the Negative energy as just another source of power. After WWI, Necromancy became highly controversial, gaining a dangerous reputation as a forbidden craft.

Prime Elemental Planes

Earth—Earth is one of the most useful and common elements awakening in human Mages, it is the element responsible for most of our industry, mining for mana crystals, building our cities and so on. It is said that one-fifth of Mages awaken as Earthen Mages.

Air—The Elemental Plane of Air, as the name suggests, is a place of gases and open space frequently filled with thunderstorms, blizzards, microbursts, tornadoes and all manners of interesting weather phenomena. Of the four common elemental affinities, Air is the rarest.

Fire—Fire is another common element Mages manifest. Ancient legend has it that Fire was stolen from the gods themselves. With Fire, man has created many useful tools and beaten back tides of monstrous creatures. Fire is another common element for Mages to possess and the mainstay of Combat Evokers, Transmuters and Conjurers.

Water—Assumed to be a near-infinite volume of water, this elemental plane is pivotal to the survival of modern magical cities. The plane provides human cities with its supply of fresh water. Likewise, human cities pump their wastewater back into the elemental plane. It is theorised that the oceans are directedly connected to this elemental plane. Water affinity is exceptionally common among coastal communities.

Para-Elemental Planes

Ice—Ice is the most common para-element to Awaken in Mages. It is a supremely useful element that creates drops in temperature, being a combination of Air and Water. The Plane of Ice is said to be a tumbling expanse of frigidity with islands of glacial ice. Ice provides good defensive and offensive capabilities, as well as chill and slow effects against water-based enemies.

Ooze—Ooze is a stranger element, scarce and virtually non-existent outside of isolated magical bloodlines. Ooze Mages are specialists, depending on their school, with spells that focus on entrapment, debilitation, poison and other strange and mysterious effects.

A speciality of the Ooze Conjurer is the ability to summon creatures that exist within that elemental plane—Oozes. It is theorised that some oozes are virtually indestructible except by other specialist Mages. Ooze is a combination of Water and Earth. Mud is a derivative of Ooze, though far closer to the Elemental Plane of Water than true Ooze Mages.

Magma—The Magma Mage is unique indeed; a rare combination of Fire and Earth. These Mages are typically found where there are volcanic islands or fjords. Their power combines the physical prowess of the Earth Mage with the damage potential of the Fire Mage.

Smoke—Smoke is the marriage of Air and Fire. Smoke is an element that is said to only exist in legend. Very little is known about Smoke Mages or the Para-Elemental Plane of Smoke.

Positive Quasi-Elemental Planes

Mineral—Mineral Mages take their capabilities from the form of specialised mineral or metal to which the caster is attuned. As such, the element creates distinct abilities that differ from Mage to Mage. A Mage capable of summoning volcanic stones, for instance, would generate obsidian shards which are brittle and fragile but possess dangerous offensive capabilities. Jedite Mages create powerful super-dense defensive layers. There are rumours that King Midas was a Gold Mage.

Lightning—Existing between the Air and Positive elemental planes, Lightning is the most penetrative of all elements due to its electrical nature. Lightning causes stun and paralysis, in addition to manifesting instantly and delivering payloads in a fraction of a second. Lightning Mages are preferably Evokers, Conjurers or Transmuters. The Quasi-Elemental Plane of Lightning is said to be a place of plasma, ozone and endless thunder.

Steam—Where the Positive and Water elemental planes meet, one gets Steam. Steam is a rarely seen element. Only a handful of Mages are on record as having tapped into a Goldilocks zone where two elements meet in harmony. There is little known about the plane and its elementalists.

Radiance—Radiance is formed from Fire and Positive energy. Often mistaken for the power of Light. In theory, it should be useless—too scattered to be used offensively, too dispersed to be used defensively. It takes a special Mage, therefore, to change something so immaterial into a powerful projection of destruction.

At a certain intensity, Radiance is capable of melting through solid steel, boiling blood, searing flesh and severing matter. Not much is known about the Elemental Plane of Radiance.

Negative Quasi-Elemental Planes

Ash—A derivative of Negative Fire that manifests corrosive ash and black flames, Ash is the most destructive element in the array of elemental planes. Ash Mages rarely live long, as the element eats away at their minds. It is said that Ash Mages exist as tortured existences whose ruinous powers wrack their bodies with unbelievable pain. If one is Negative drained by an Ash Mage, one loses one's seven emotions and six desires.

Dust—Dust is the most stable of the Negative quasi-elements, next to Salt. It doesn't have any offensive capabilities of its own but enjoys the same corrosive ability drain as Ash. The most annoying part of fighting a Dust Mage is their ability to deaden all elemental damage. Due to its abrogating nature, Dust consumes Fire, Water, Air, Lightning, even Ash. It is said to be the most stalwart Abjuration Affinity next to Mineral.

Salt—Salt is a stable Negative quasi-element with the additional ability to form into a range of crystalline shapes. It's capable of dealing extreme damage to Slimes and Oozes, as well as an assortment of creatures composed mostly of water, including humans.

The desiccation caused by the Salt Mage draws out elemental water from the bodies of their enemies. Elemental Salt is different from mortal salt, found in oceans and sometimes in rocks. It is formed where Negative energy and Water meet. Salt is the least destructive of Negative quasi-elements.

Void—As the name suggests, the Elemental Plane of Void is a place of vast, perpetual darkness where strange, forgotten things lurk in a vacuum darker than black, always hungering. It is a plane consisting of the very idea of nothingness, a place where forgotten things end up. When manifested in the material plane, Void consumes matter, then disappears. Like Steam and Smoke Mages, very little is known about Void Mages. Arguably, the most famous Void Mage in Modern History is Elizabeth Sobel.

Spellcraft and Metaworld Lexicon

Astral Body—The cognitively generated projection of one's connection to the Multiverse, visualised via indoctrinated Spellcraft. Typically manifests as a humanoid silhouette with abstract details pertaining to the user's sigils and elemental affinity. Elements are perceived to be within the astrophysical body, while sigils manifest externally. Only Mages possess astral bodies.

Physical Body—No matter how powerful a Mage may be, they are still biological creatures that need to eat, crap and sleep, subject to Eros and Thanatos, life and death. The physicality of a Mage tends to reflect the degree of their elemental affinity. Most infamously, Earthen Mages have rock-hard physiques, Air Mages are frail and flighty, while Lightning Mages have quickened metabolisms.

Anima (Animus) —Drawn from the theory of the Meister Sigmund Jung, the psyche, the anima (male psyche and common vernacular) and animus (female psyche) inference a being's subconscious self-awareness. Only sapient creatures are classified as capable of possessing anima and animus.

Mana—The gurus of Hinduism refer to this as spiritual energy or Prana. Chinese Doshi denotes this spiritual energy as Qi. Early western theology referred to this energy as Faith or Zeal. Modern Spellcraft unified the term as mana, a generic word for mystical energies of any kind. The astral body produces mana as it interacts with Glyphs and gates, channelling mana into conduits of the physical body.

Mana Pool—The maximum amount of mana which a Mage can produce. When the astral body is no longer capable of producing mana, this is referred to as OOM or Out of Mana. VMI—Volumetric Mana Index—is the official nomenclature for measuring a Mage's mana pool.

Mana Channel—Often confused with the concept of a Mana Conduit, a Mana Channel refers to metaphysical pathways by which mana produced by the astral body enters the Mage's physical body. A Mage's Mana Channels can never be damaged without injury to their astral body.

Gate and Conduit—A gate refers to nomenclature describing the effect of non-elementally attuned mana becoming suffused with the Mage's element. This elementally-attuned mana then feeds back into the physical body. The pathways through the Mage's physical body are referred to as Mana Conduits. Damage to the physical body damages one's Mana Conduits.

Essence—A metaphysical form of energy derived from a being's existence. Referred to commonly as one's soul or spirit in ancient Spellcraft, contemporary Spellcraft sees essence as a hitherto little-known form of energy, separate from mana.

Creatures possessing great magical power and ego possess higher degrees of essence. Likewise, sapient beings typically possess greater essence than their non-sapient peers of the same subtype. NoMs, in general, possess little essence. human and demi-human Mages possess immense essence, a fact profoundly valuable to the study of Necromancy. Theoretical Spellcraft proposes that essence is tied to a Mage's ability to access particular Schools of Magic.

School of Magic (Imperial Metric Schools) —Since unifying the study of magic under the IMS during the Spellcraft Revolution at the turn of the twentieth century, seven Schools of Magic exist—Evocation, Transmutation, Conjuration, Abjuration, Divination, Enchantment and Illusion.

Hybrid School of Magic—Rarely, some Mages awaken with magic in between the Sanctioned Schools of Magic, belonging to no school. Of these types of magic, Biomancy, the manipulation of Postive energy and Necromancy, the manipulation of Negative energy, reign supreme.

Awakening—The term is loosely used to describe an Acolyte coming to terms with their first School of Magic and their affinity for an element. In Frontier cities, NoM civilians are filtered, with potential Mages tested for aptitude. In tier one cities, Mages naturally grow into their powers, training from an early age. A stimuli crystal may be used to induce an Awakening, circulating mana into the recipient as to jolt their astral bodies into existence.

Spellcraft—The study of magic. The Imperial Metric System (IMS) splits spells into nine Tiers.

Advanced Spellcraft Theorems—Spells whose theory and manifestation fall outside existing methodology. Most universities study advanced Spellcraft to push past the current boundaries of human knowledge of magic. Those who contribute significantly to this study are awarded the title of Meister.

Sanctioned and Unsanctioned Magic—Sanctioned magic may be purchased by Tower Mages with LDMs, HDMs and CCs. Unsanctioned magic may only be acquired through petition. If a Mage is found practising unlicensed unsanctioned magic, they are subject to severe punishments and even disbarment.

Sigil—A spiritual manifestation of one's affinity for particular forms of magic, tied to the generation of one's astral body during Awakening. Each School of Magic possesses a unique sigil under the IMS visualisation doctrine.

Glyph—Sigils exist only in one's mind. When Mages wish to manifest the concept of sigils externally, they turn to glyphs. Glyphs vary but may be thought of as symbols of power capable of channelling magical energy as though a man-made conduit existing outside the Mage's body. Magic items and enchantments such as wards rely exclusively on complex glyphs and mandalas.

Mandala—Originating from Tibetian mysticism, Mandala refers to large-scale, complex glyph arrays used to support complex Spellcraft manifestations.

Spell—A series of incantations both somatic and verbal which triggers magical phenomena when exercised with mana from a Mage's astral body.

Rite—A spell requiring time, preparation and setup. Typically includes meditation, ritual and complex external components. Rites include city-wide strategic-class spells.

Incantation—Invocations with somatic and verbal components. These are mnemonics which manifest magic through sigils. The higher the tier of magic, the more complex and convoluted the number of major and minor incantations. Senior and experienced Mages may specialise in particular spells so that they become “silent”.

Shield (Mage) —Shield refers to the mental ability of Mages to form a barrier of mana around their physical bodies. Even without training, Mages are capable of manifesting a membrane of mana projected just outside their physical body, which displaces hostile mana and foreign objects. Abjuration specialises in forming persistent shields and shields that can manifest on Mages other than the caster.

Acolyte—Neophytes and Acolytes are the colloquial names for beginner Mages. The moniker of Mage or Senior Mage is given to those with mastery over at least one School of Magic, meaning access to spells over tier IV.

Magus—A Magus is an arcanist who has gained multiple Schools of Magic through talent or laborious study. To be called a Magus in public, the Mage must undergo examination within a Tower.

Magister—Likewise, a Magister is a peer-reviewed, publically-sanctioned Magic Caster. Unlike the moniker of Magus, Magister is a title that comes with the weight of public service and responsibility of upholding the Tower's interest.

Meister—A Meister is a Magister, but not all Magisters can become a Meister. A Meister is a Mage who has contributed significant advancement to Spellcraft, and whose work benefits all of mankind. Claude Van Saint, the famous healer who pioneered modern magical medicine, is a Meister. Philo R. Farnsworth, the man responsible for proving that Illusions may exist as a form of media stored in capture crystals, is a Meister. As powerful as famous individuals like Henry Kilroy have been, his preference for keeping his studies wrapt and secret excludes him from the title of Meister.

Magi— A Mage whose power and command over Spellcraft exceed sanctioned limits, going beyond the nine tiers. A Magi rarely concerns themselves with worldly affairs. They are seen as humanity's greatest deterrence against demi-human and magical creature incursions. It is unfortunate that Magi are typically old and venerable.

Sanctioned Mage—A Mage registered under a Tower, beholden to its laws, codes of conduct, and ethics for the public practice of Spellcraft.

Rogue Mage— A Free Mage that is not registered, practices magic freely and therefore is perceived as dangerous to society.

Tier (spell) —Tier I to IX of Spellcraft. Tiers – I to III is accessible to almost all Mages. This tier is capable of combating individuals, as well as groups of Monsters. Tiers – IV to VI exists within the realm of all Maguses as well as most Senior Mages with a single School of Magic. This tier is capable of wiping out monster lairs and demi-human villages. Tier –VII to IX is open usually to Magisters for reasons of both academic access as well as state sanction. High tiers of magic can act as strategic class spells capable of wiping out cities.

Tier (Affinity) —The attunement of a Mage to their element. The higher the affinity, the higher the efficacy for damage and mana cost. As Affinity grows, damage increases by a magnitude of ten percent for every observable tier. Likewise, mana cost for spells decreases with higher affinity. Though damage increase appears to be on a linear scale, mana cost suffers from diminishing returns. As such, a spell will never be “free”.

Higher affinity likewise involves physiological and psychological changes for the Mage in question. Some examples are provided below, taken from the story-in-progress. Fire Mages are often hot-tempered and over-zealous, possessing a short fuse. Physiologically, they gain resistance to cold and heat. Air Mages become fragile and whispy, becoming airy and flighty in their mannerisms. Earthen Mages undergo the most profound physiological change, becoming taller and more robust, with enhanced musculature, increasing both strength and fortitude. Water Mages are known to be pliable and easily convinced, with personalities that like water, and are capable of fitting any vessel. Lightning Mages gain increased metabolism, becoming prideful and possessive beings. Ash Mages are known to become apathetic. Their emotions become dulled by the continued practice of Ash Magic until they waste away. Void Mages are rumoured to exhibit extreme hunger, both physiologically and in terms of their psychological demands. Ooze Mages are said to be slothful and lazy, unmotivated and uninspired. Mineral Mages become dispassionate and pragmatic, often their eyes take on the likeness of their attuned mineral element. Positive Energy Mages are ubiquitously known to be amiable, friendly and full of life and vigour, possessing a halo of likability.

Tier (Creature) —A generic classification system used in common parlance to ratify the danger level of a particular creature. Goblins usually have a tier of I. A raid of goblins may be up to IV or V, an adult dragon up to XI. A leviathan with a swarm of mermen may be up to –twenty-five to thirty, requiring the mobilisation of a Tower or Towers.

Class (Monster) —Military lexicon for the number of Mages needed to pacify a threat. Soldier Class infers a single Mage. Lieutenant Class infers the need for a Magus or two or more Mages. General Class requires a Magister. Usually, a party of Mages may subdue a Lieutenant-Class magical creature. A party of Senior Mages lead by a Magus may defeat a General-Class creature. Some creatures, such as titans (overlarge monsters) and mythics (land gods) are likewise a part of this denomination. Class systems differ from nation to nation and are not an official Tower designation.

Wildlands—Lands not occupied by human cities, separated into zones.

Green—relatively safe for NoM habitation.

Orange—unsafe for occupancy, safe for Mages to traverse.

Purple—dangerous for both Mages and NoMs, contains hostile creatures that will disrupt human habitation.

Black—extremely dangerous for human habitation. Zone includes creatures that predate on humans. Environmental factors may also play into codified zoning.

Demi-Humans—Humanoid races that share the Prime Material Plane with humans. Friendly species include Nordic and Bavarian dwarves, Celtic elves, German gnomes and hobbits from New Zealand. Hostile races include goblinoids, dragonoids, harpies, serpentfolk, merfolk, mermen (Oceanic), lizardmen, dryads and other sapient beings capable of speech. Like most magical creatures, these beings possess a core. Some demi-humans are capable of interbreeding with humans. The majority of human cities are highly xenophobic and racially homogeneous.

Magical Creatures—Creatures generated by nature where the veil between the prime material and the elemental planes are weak. Current theory infers they are elemental creatures that manifest into the Prime Material. Magical creatures possess cores, which are condensed mana that serve as the anchor of the creature's essence to the prime material, giving it life.

Cores (Creature) —From the lowest Gobs to the highest ancient dragon, all magical creatures possess cores. Upon death, the core shatters, releasing the wild energies contained within. Interesting fact—ancient creatures have highly condensed and compact cores that are virtually impervious to damage.

Spirit (s) —When a creature possesses a high level of anima, its core may contain a spirit. Spirits are potentially found in all forms of creature cores, though typically, it is exceedingly rare amongst lower order magical creatures. For spirit-Seekers, the irony lies in that billions of low-tier creatures exist with a lottery's chance of possessing a spirit. While beings with a high probability of retaining a core upon death, as well as possessing both ego and anima, are exceedingly rare, they are more often than not incredibly powerful.

Spirit (Mage) —Mages dream of augmenting their elemental powers with a spirit. A spirit may be acquired through directly killing and harvesting cores, then bending the will of the anima of the creature contained therein to the mage's service. When successfully attuned, the spirit is absorbed into the Mage's astral body, becoming a part of the Mage's ability to channel elemental powers.

The alternate method of gaining a spirit is through taming existing magical creatures and opening one's astral body to the foreign spirit. This methodology is considered highly irregular and potentially fatal for an unsuspecting Mage incapable of melding with the entity.

Familiars—Typically, the Conjure Familiar spell is responsible for bonding elemental entities to a Mage's psyche or anima. Such creatures are manifested from the psyche of the caster. When a spirit is partnered with the Mage, the anima of the spirit usually takes the form of the familiar. When a spirit is bonded with a Mage already in possession of a familiar, it usually subsumes the form of the familiar and replaces it with its own. It is not known if familiars can become spirits through gaining ego and animus.

The Frontier—Originally a term denoting cities which were cut off from logistical support after WWII, the term has grown to encompass all human territories lacking geodynamic ley lines. Some Frontier cities such as Merauke, Darwin, Chittagong and Izmir are little more than human havens eking out a living in the wilderness, serving as little more than trading ports and supply stations. Prosperous Frontier cities such as Sydney, Singapore, Naples and Las Vegas, have a quality of life nearing tier one cities in all but name, lacking the geography, natural resources and political power to ascend into the status of a tier one city. With exceptions akin to continental hub cities like Singapore and Istanbul, the vast majority of Frontier cities have limited access to Spellcraft and Magitech.

Tier One Cities—Cities built around powerful convergences of ley lines are considered tier one cities. These cities have the near-perpetual energy to supply to their internal and external shielding stations. To apply for tier one status, a city-state must pass muster with the Commonwealth Towers, joining the network of tier one cities.

Shielding Station—A stationary mini-tower built to withstand the elements, manned by abjurers and a patrolling team of Mages. At the heart of the shielding station is a Resonance Crystal which projects a frequency harmful to all beings possessing cores that are not attuned to a Mage. A Shield Generator Tower creates the resonance, visually manifesting as a shimmering wall or barrier, and additional, smaller station refract the shielding.

Tower—A robust structure with inbuilt Enchantments. A Tower can vary in size, function and power. In most cities, the Tower functions as a way-station, a bastion and a nerve centre for all magical matter. Even the most basic Tower includes the ability to amplify the manifestation of Spellcraft of its stationed Mages, the levitation of its structural body, long-distance teleportation and displacement, and the ability to act as a mass-communication Divination array. A tier one city's ley lines usually provide power to the Tower. For Frontier cities with limited geodynamic supplies of mana, a significant cargo of HDMs is required.

The Towers—The United Nation Council of Towers (UN) refers to a coalition of all Towers from around the world formed after World War II's Beast Tide. Akin to the UN in Gwen's old world, the Towers sanctify and ratify the regulation of Spellcraft, the status of city-states, and mediate the conflicts of interest between human nations.

Tower (Commonwealth) —Towers belonging to the old British Mageocracy, said to have conquered more than fifty percent of all human lands in its golden age. The Commonwealth forms a loose factional coalition through a shared ideology of social democracy, English as a primary language, and mutual defence pacts.

Tower (Independent) —Towers not beholden to any specific faction and are wholly independent (on paper). Singapore, Istanbul, Tel Aviv and Hong Kong are examples.

Tower (State Owned) —Towers that are a part of the global network of towers but are beholden to their city-states or nations. Almost all non-independent towers belong to this category.

NoMs—Non-magical human beings, also derivatively known as No-Magic. In the Frontier and tier one cities, NoMs serves as a labour force. The majority of NoMs work in agriculture and manufacturing, with a small percentile working in administration and other white-collar positions. Most NoMs, whether because of indoctrination or the social climate, see the possibility of becoming a Mage or introducing a Mage to their bloodline to be a way out of a life of oppression, poverty and mediocrity.

House (Mage) —A bloodline of Mages usually with a powerful or influential progenitor. A House usually includes three or more generations of Mages. A Branch House is when a potential heir, usually a sibling, starts a new House with the same bloodline.

Table of Contents

- 1. A Course of Course
- 2. Off to See the Wizard
- 3. Dog Whistles
- 4. Questions and Answers
- 5. A Trojan Gift Horse
- 6. A Gift Once Given
- 7. Preparatory
- 8. Fault Lines
- 9. The Great Divide
- 10. Picking Up the Pieces
- 11. Regrets
- 12. Mixture and Admixtures
- 13. Skinner's Box
- 14. Queries and Answers
- 15. Good Neighbours
- 16. Knots
- 17. The Age of Experience
- 18. Orientation
- 19. Lessons of Life
- 20. A Bob on the Snout
- 21. Classes and Classes
- 22. Mo Money, No Problems
- 23. Routine
- 24. The Troubles
- 25. Paternal Issues
- 26. A Charmed Life
- 27. Fight or Flight
- 28. The Wrong Way to Duel
- 29. Indigestion
- 30. The Greener Grass
- 31. The Damned
- 32. When the Red MistRolls In
- 33. Blood and Guts
- 34. Hesitation at the Threshold
- 35. Between Concrete and a Hard Place
- 36. Once More Untothe Breach
- 37. No Place Should Murder Sanctuarise
- 38. Mightier than the Sword
- 39. Dreams of Tomorrow
- Thank You
- Glossary
- Elements & Elemental Magic