Metaworld Chronicles: Revenge of Sobel
Date: 2024-10-29T18:00:00+00:00
Description: Gwen's adventures in Sydney continues in Volume 2 as she comes into her powers under the guidance of Henry Kilroy, Master of Sydney's Tower. Adventures with Yue, Debora, and Elvia likewise ensue, with the Inter-High Spellcraft Competition looming in the distance.

Revenge of Sobel

David J. Wuto

Mango Media LLC

Dedication

To Jenny

For reading my terrible first drafts

Blurb

Gwen's adventures in Sydney continues in Volume 2 as she comes into her powers under the guidance of Henry Kilroy, Master of Sydney's Tower. Adventures with Yue, Debora, and Elvia likewise ensue, with the Inter-High Spellcraft Competition looming in the distance.

Copyright © David Jian Wu 2019 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.

Gwen's adventures in Sydney continues in Volume 2 as she comes into her powers under the guidance of Henry Kilroy, Master of Sydney's Tower. Adventures with Yue, Debora, and Elvia likewise ensue, with the Inter-High Spellcraft Competition looming in the distance.

Contents

1. Close Encounters

2. Full Pelt

3. Great Expectations

4. Premonitions

5. No Harm in Trying

6. Rich Girls and Poor Boys

7. A Curious Encounter

8. Fix -- Show and Tell

9. When Shall We Three

10. One Thousand and One Nights

11. Valkyries

12. Something's Fishy

13. First World Problems

14. Singing the Snake

15. Into the Wild

16. A Favourfor a Favour

17. Shortcomings

18. The MiglooGhost

19. Thunderstruck

20. Until Dawn

21. House of the Rising Huang

22. ’Til the Fat Lady Sings

23. Sharing is Caring

24. So Long, and Sanks for the Fush

25. All Work and no Lunch

26. Days of our Lives

27. A Crooked Deal

28. Dark Waters

29. Anticipation

30. A Rose has its Thorns

31. The Higher the Expectation

32. The Harder They Fall

33. A Sight for Sore Eyes

34. When the Levee Breaks

35. An Unexpected Encounter

36. Chain Reaction

37. The Breaking Wave

38. The Devil’s Advocate

39. TrueLies

40. The Widening Gyre

41. The Lost Falcon

42. The Worst are Full of Passion

43. Reeling Shadows of Desert Birds

44. The Darkness Drops Again

45. SpiritusMundi

46. When Time is Short

47. The Salty Saviour

48. Epilogue - No Birds Sing

Thank You

Glossary

Elements & Elemental Magic

Chapter one

Close Encounters

“Gwen!"

"Debbie!"

The two girls reciprocated cheeks.

Surya observed the exchange, his face full of benevolence, his heart finally returned to its usual cadence. In light of Henry's ruthless sentencing of Mark, leaving his cucu perempuan with his old friend had been no different from sending merino into a Hob's den. As such, for the first half of the day, Surya had assumed a foul and disgruntled disposition while Gwen tied the loose ends of the fiasco, casting such a moody shadow that all his assistants, Debora included, fled from his scorn.

Around midday, Surya received a Message spell from Kilroy. As he listened, his face alternated between shock, calm, and finally euphoria. At long last, he had received permission for a Teleportation Circle at the estate. Such a thing cost as much as three figures in HDM crystals, but considering her circumstances after Blackheath, Surya would prefer Gwen not taking public transport for some time.

As the sun fled, Surya's NoM servant served supper. Locals working for the Magus, they had been apprehensive at first but stayed on once they realised that the 'dangerous' Mage was just a benign, eccentric artist.

And so it was that the five sat in front of the infinity garden—Surya, Gwen, Debora, Melissa and Tess, enjoying a supper of tender roast and heirloom vegetables. Surya's assistants were not privy to Gwen's secrets, Debora not to the entirety of it, and so the conversation was kept light-hearted and full of sweet nothings. Surya commended that Debora was performing exceptionally well in learning the Bronze-skin techniques and that she would be of great help in the future. In his esteemed opinion, the athletic, earnest girl got along well with his other two Apprentices, and together they had been making some rather ambitious new works. Following dinner, classic Pavlova with fresh strawberries and cream, paired with a sweet Moscato dessert wine capped off the night. As was usual for the tablelands, the air stayed sultry even after the sun dipped against the horizon. The girls had left their glasses untouched at first but seeing it served and that no one seemed to mind, proceeded to sinfully sip away at the scented amber liquid.

For Gwen, the Frizzante was a godsend. It wasn't the supernatural mead that Sufina supplied, but actual alcohol, pure and clear and natural, full of euphoric buzz. When was the last time she had drunk alcohol? Gwen couldn't recall; after all, that had been a lifetime ago. She stole a nip here and there, her glass perpetually topping itself thanks to the nefarious designs of Tess and Mel, likely wondering if another Gwen lurked under her unflappable calm.

When the three bottles finally spilt the last drop, the four girls were rip-roaring with laughter like old chums. The sun died a glorious red death, forming that timeless Outback panorama of burning plains and flaming skies. Surya announced his retirement and stumbled off to sleep in his workshop and Mel and Tess returned to their rooms in the west wing. Debora also retreated, leaving Gwen by herself to ponder the insignificance of man under the horizon-spanning Milky Way; wondering if this was the same constellation as her old world.

"He that has the steerage of my course… direct my sail…" She said to no one in particular, too groggy to recall the rest of the lines. By then, she was flushed and sweaty. The nights on the tablelands were unpleasant at best. She would have to beg Opa for some cooling Glyphs in the guest rooms. Just sitting here, without even moving, she was feeling beads of sweat catching in the folds of her cotton dress. She would need more clothes for her month-long stay as well, but for now, she could borrow from Tess and Mel.

Unsteadily, Gwen made her way to her room in the dark, threw off her dress, and fell comfortably into her bed. She felt flushed with the heat of fermented muscats, relaxed and happy. So many knots have been untied, and Gwen felt safe for the first time since arriving in this world.

The sheets were coarse and stuck to her skin, but her mind was already elsewhere. She pondered her parallel lives, measuring one against the other. Though she had first rejected the Gwen of this world, her alternative life had grown on her. In old Sydney, she had left behind many regrets. Of the four-burner stove that was family, health, career and friends, Gwen had shut the one labelled family entirely, redirecting its time and energy towards health and wealth. She rarely even had time for friends, and her romantic pursuits had been a horror. Now, in this world, through uncertain trials and tribulations under risk of life and limb, she had reached a kind of equilibrium.

For friends, she had Yue, Elvia, and now Debora. For a mentor, she had her Master, Henry. For family, she had Opa, who gave her a taste of belonging she had not savoured in her parallel life. As for her career—that was as yet uncertain.

Yawning, she stretched out on the double bed, ready for the lull of blissful sleep. Internally, her mind wandered through the darkness, careless fingering this and that.

There was a nervous moan beside her as Gwen poked something soft with her nails.

She froze and slowly turned her head.

In the dim light, she met Debora's flaming face.

“I, er… think I have the wrong room."

That was the truth. The east wing of the complex had six identical bedrooms in the hopes that one day family would gather to celebrate the material achievements of House Huang. Unfortunately, that particular project had ignited when Surya, Helena and Kwan had burned their bridges. As a result, the east wing of the estate was entirely untouched by human occupation. Moreover, the doors hadn’t been labelled and weren’t easily distinguishable in the gloom.

Flushing with embarrassment, Gwen tried to lift herself from the bed, but the disorientating influence of wine sent her rolling off its side. She yelped as she crashed onto the timber floor, face up and writhing in agony.

"Jesus, are you alright, Gwen?" There was something off about Debora's voice; it lacked its usual tenor and clarity. In the low light of the stars, Gwen spotted her friend's face.

Debora had been crying.

With a thump, Debora joined her. Her friend had gotten up too quickly and had likewise lost her balance. Stumbling onto the floor, she rolled onto her knees and elbows, then came to a rest beside Gwen.

The two of them laid side by side in awkward silence.

Perhaps it was the alcohol, but Gwen soon broke the solemn moment with a chortle. Debora joined in a moment later. Before they knew it, they were both laughing out loud, albeit quietly— it was simply too hot for locomotion.

Finally, Gwen managed to think of something to say. "Sorry…" she said. "For pulling you into all of this."

Debora said nothing, merely breathing arrhythmically, possibly trying to cool herself on the hard timber floor. In the darkness, Gwen could see her friend's body outlined in the silhouetted sheen, lit by a silvery light. Unbidden, Debora's crests and valleys quaked from the emotions running beneath her honeyed skin.

"I didn't know you were from such an amazing family, Gwen," Debora muttered finally with a tone that was forlorn and lost. "I'd always thought you were just like me, that we were close in stature."

"It's just Grandfather," Gwen admitted. "You don't want to meet the rest of the family, trust me."

She thought about what she had said, then added, "Richard's alright. He's a funny guy."

Debora wasn't listening. "I thought… I thought we weren't so different. I just had to work harder. Until that is, I met Master Henry, and Alesia, and that Gunther guy." Debora's voice grew more affected with every word. Beside her, Gwen felt Debora's emotions mounting with her irregular breath, her chest rising and falling, expanding and contracting. "They're not ordinary people, Gwen, and they all wanted to help you. That means that you are no longer an average person. You're in another world now. How could I catch up to that? How's that fair?"

Her voice broke. "You're going to be so far away, so far and out of reach. I don't even know what I am doing anymore, Gwen. Why am I trying so hard?"

"Debbie…" Gwen wanted to comfort her friend, but she had nothing to add. Whatever comforting words she spoke would merely be sophistry. Could she promise Debora that she would carry her? That would be supreme arrogance and an insult; it would only make the matter worse.

In the dark, Debora turned to face her. The girl's eyes were hot with upset, making snail trails down the sides of her cheeks. "What's it like to have a mere mortal ask to join your party?" Debbie uttered devastatingly, her tone both bittersweet and tinged with despairing misery. "Was it funny? Did you and the girls have a lark?"

"No, of course not, Debbie." Gwen scanned her memory for something intelligible to say, but her brain was so overwhelmed by the amber fever of the muscat that her thoughts felt like sifting through cotton.

"When I think of you and Yue and Elvia, seeing the world and moving beyond the Shield Wall—going on your adventures, leaving for tier-one cities. And I am stuck here in this terrible Frontier town next to that horrid snake. I just…" Debora sobbed; a quiet, heartbroken wail.

Gwen repressed a pang of guilt. Debora had not known that the serpent was benign, nor could she inform her of the truth. Gwen understood, though. Even drunk, she completely understood why Debora felt so alienated, helpless and alone. She had been tenacious, stubborn and competitive. The competition with herself had been a driving force, especially after their Awakening. Yet, she was now out of reach, entirely out of reach, forever. Was there something she could do? She wasn't sure, but she wanted to try. Gwen scanned through her memories for her absent maternal memories, and found involving Percy, whimpering in the night because their father was working and their mother was gone. She had held him then, brother and sister, his face against her bosom. She had rubbed his back and cradled the baby until he grew exhausted. The next morning, Percy was good as new.

Unsure of what else to do, Gwen reached out with her slender arms and pulled in the sobbing Debora, stroking her hair with one hand while whispering kind words with her husky voice.

"Shhh, it's okay, Debbie. Everything will be alright. You can make it with us to the same university. We can even join the same military unit. We'll be together on adventures big and small. I don't know if we will be together forever, but it's going to be great while we are…"

Debora stifled her sobs as Gwen spoke of halcyon days ahead.

The room grew unbearably hot. The diffusion of emotions had made it stuffy and stifling. They would have to take a breather outside and cool down. Her friend withdrew from Gwen's embrace, pulling back far enough that they slept face to face.

Unlike her old world, there was no light pollution in the Outback. Up above, the Milky Way glimmered with promises, an ambient sea of stars stretching from boundary to boundary. The moon itself hung full and bright, casting a pale white glow.

And under that hanging glow, Debora's eyes were as bright as the amber flutes of Moscato they had savoured, twinkling with hope under the silver light of the glimmering heavens. Opposite, Gwen's elfin face was pale as fragile milk.

Then Debora kissed her. Not a peck, nor a tap, but a full kiss on the mouth.

Her friend's lips were soft and moist, enveloping Gwen's own, imploring her to respond. There was a slight, wet suction; Debora's tongue was hinting at better things to come. It was Gwen's first kiss, and yet it wasn't.

Arguably, Debora kissed well, and Gwen sensed this wasn't her first rodeo. Nonetheless, the uninvited act was shocking enough for the groggy fog of the grapes to fall away. She pulled their lips apart, a spider thread of saliva appearing and disappearing between them. A scent of sultry grapes lingered on their flushed lips.

"I should go," Gwen said softly, this time carefully and patiently removing herself from the floor.

"Gwen," Debora begged, her eyes full of panic.

"I am alright, Debbie," Gwen replied softly. She didn't want her friend to feel bad.

"I am sorry," Debora began, trying to get up herself.

"It's okay. I was a little lost there was well." Gwen confessed, controlling her cadence.

Debora tried to stand, but she was still a little knock-kneed and trembling. Perhaps Debbie was afraid that she would hate her now? If Gwen was a particular kind of woman, she could make Debora's life a living hell. Still, knowing Debora's family and their religious attendance of Sunday Mass, the revelation was a big surprise. But then again, did Debora like her in that way? Gwen wasn't exactly sure, but she was the adult here. She understood puberty and all its confusing, hormonal contradictions.

"It's fine, Debs." Gwen leaned over.

To Debora's surprise, she kissed her ice-cold forehead. "I'll see you tomorrow."

There was silence as Gwen retrieved her dress and moved to the door.

She opened it and waited.

"Thank you," Debora replied, her voice full of allaying gratitude.

Gwen likewise breathed out a sigh of discreet relief. "Night, Debs."

"Goodnight."

Gwen found the right room next door. She doubled checked that it was unoccupied, and finally fell into bed.

This time, there was the lull of undisturbed sleep.

Gwen was given the luxury of sleeping until midday. After everything that had happened in Blackheath, her body finally caught up to the banked hours of fatigue that had been kept away by golden mead and adrenaline.

Half-starved, she politely asked the NoM servants to make her a cold-cut sandwich from the previous day's leftovers. She then sat by the infinity feature and considered what she should be doing.

There was a feeling of emptiness on her fingers. She had lost her storage ring, and by that same measure, she had lost the notebook Henry and Surya had painstakingly made for her. She had memorised the routines, of course, but she had wanted it as a keepsake. All in all, the only thing she had retained was the jade pendant, for which she had Caliban to thank.

Gwen shivered.

Near the craft quarter, Opa emerged from his steaming foundry with his assistants in tow. A broad grin of anticipation written all over his earnest face. "Afternoon."

"Afternoon, Opa."

"Got some nice snoozes in?"

"Yes, Opa."

"Good, good."

They bantered for a while as drinks materialised.

Surya rummaged around the pouch of his work-satchel, finally producing a small wooden box. He opened it and displayed it to Gwen magnificently. It was a diamond ring. "Here." He threw it toward her. "Commissioned by the Master of the Ten himself."

Gwen caught it in one hand and opened her palm, examining the intricately crafted piece of jewellery. The "diamond" was a creature's Core, of course, merely prepared in the style of a brilliant square emerald, refracting a scintillating pattern of four distinct quadrants.

Gwen marvelled at its brilliance. Diamonds were a girl's best friend, after all, even in a world of dungeons and dragons.

"The cut was done an Asscher Inscriber. The Core is from your Master's private collection. All I had to do was inscribe and mount it. Try it on."

Gwen slipped the ring onto her dominant ring finger, the band shrinking to fit. "This is a medium Storage Ring!" Gwen gasped. "There's something else as well."

"There's the usual teleportation beacon," Surya advised with a tone of pride in his work. "The Core was powerful enough to sustain a few more spells, so I also put Water Breathing and Feather Fall in there too for, you know, contingency."

"Oh, Opa! Thank you!" Gwen hugged her grandfather, making a note of needing to thank her Master as well. A Storage Ring with additional Glyphs! It was worth hundreds if not a thousand HDMs!

"Hee, hee, hee." Surya grinned, very much pleased with himself. "There's a glamour applied so it would look unassuming. Don't worry about showing it off."

They conversed some more about the uses of the ring, its method of activation, as well as important does and don'ts.

"So, you wanna do some work or are you going to get fat off Opa's land?"

"Of course, I love part-time jobs," Gwen cooed delightfully. "What can I help with?"

"Well, Henry's sent over the spell books for Detection, Message and a few useful Transmutation spells to get your foundation started, but you'll be working on those in private. Meanwhile, I got a roo problem happening now that the lakes all dried up. The damn things are ripping apart my fences trying to get to the water here."

That was no surprise. Even in her old world, kangaroos were becoming a pest.

"I'll ask around the local area. You and Debs can probably head around and do some corralling and culling. Roos are good for eating too, and their pelts are worth good LDMs. With that ring, you should be able to bring back two ta three at least."

"How many roos are we talking here, Opa?"

"Oh, you know, swarms of the buggers, a few hundred? A thousand? Who knows? They're just big grasshoppers. The NoMs loved eating the stray ones, but the big reds are far too big and powerful for them to fight. So make sure you get the local farmers to spot you while you're out there."

Swarms of two-metre tall red kangaroos, Gwen grimaced. That didn’t sound too dangerous. If she could improve the dietary condition of the locals as well, that was an additional boon. "Alright, I'll go get ready, Opa. I need to get some appropriate clothing though. Are there any shops around here?"

"You gotta go into town. Got crystals on you?"

Gwen shook her head; she was, alas, penniless. Putting on her best face, she blinked expectantly at Opa.

Surya grinned. The old man passed a hand over the table expensively and dispensed a small mound of crystals both high and low in density. Another pass and a few rolls of green notes fell onto the pile.

"Happy shopping. I'll get Tess to bring the car around. You know, you should work on Transmutation, at tier III you get to cast Flight! Once you and Debora can fly, you can go anywhere."

Gwen gave Opa a big wet kiss. Half-drunk, the old Enchanter strolled away with a spring in his step, as blithe as a Tigger.

"Shopping!" Gwen punched the air with a fist. She couldn't wait.

"Oi Jacko, where's Tako?" Stevo shouted across the lowing of cattle roving across the tablelands.

"Dunno," Jacko fired back, his voice hoarse from the dry air. "I'll go check on ’im. Wait up."

He tapped the flanks of his grey mare, and the horse sped into a gallop, making for the back of the herd. He found their number three behind the last cattle, starting and stopping, looking back with a sense of dismay and uncertainty.

"What's the matter, mate?” Stevo was a carefree guy.

Tako turned to his mates with a face full of worry-lines on his sunbaked, leathery skin. The young jackaroo's name wasn’t really Tako; no self-respecting Japanese person would call themselves "Octopus". His real name was Takahashi, and when his parent migrated onto the Frontier, they told him to just go with the flow.

"There's something following us." Tako squinted against the sun, shielding his eyes. "The trail ain't right."

Jacko took a gander, kicked his horse and made a short perimeter around the suspect area. There was plenty of evidence that pointed to the passing of prime auroch cattle, but little indication of monsters.

"Seems alright to me, mate. All I see is bullshit, ha!" Jacko joked uproariously. Tako was a good bloke, but he was a little high-strung, always going on about fearing this and being wary of that. Sometimes a bloke just needs to relax.

"I am serious, Jacko," Tako returned, though seeing Jacko's clowning, he couldn't help but smile himself. "Oi! OI! The hell is that?" Tako squinted. There was a little grey flag moving towards them. "Jacko, stop! What's that?"

Jacko halted his mare and looked, squinting against the blinding rays. "Looks like…" he began, then something struck the back of his mind. The old drovers told stories like these, exchanged them for goon at the pub. "No bloody way."

"Jacko!" Tako started turning his horse. "Shit, it’s coming right this way! Run, mate! Run!"

"A—, fuck me dead!" Jacko whipped his horse around and made a straight bolt for the herd. "We gotta get the aurochs back to the ranch. There are Mages there that can help us!"

The thing that was coming towards them was diving through the red earth with an absurd velocity, somehow keeping up with the horses at full gallop.

But for how long could it keep up that speed? That was the pickled sandwich; Tako knew that their horses were tired from the sun and the heat and couldn't possibly keep a gallop for more than a few minutes.

BA—WAM!

Suddenly, there was the sound of something launching. The jackaroos turned back to see a massive monster, more shark than land-beast, sleek with a head covered in hard carapace and tipped like a sharp cone. It looked as though a rhinoceros had crossbred with a tiger shark and was then given ten doses of malevolence. Effortlessly, the thing leapt through the air, striking the ground not with a thud, but with the soft sound of sand shifting. When it emerged again, it was moving faster; it was gaining on them!

"How the fuck is that bugger moving so fast?!" Jacko shouted. His horse was doing alright, but he noted with another “Fuck!” that Tako was slowing down.

"Jacko! My horse is giving out soon, get the herd out of here! Tell Stevo to lead ’em to the ranch. I'll try to draw it away!"

"Na, mate, that's bullshit, don't do it!"

"No time. Gotta go! Come at me, ya fugly bastard!"

Tako veered, whistling and hooting the whole while. The shark creature twisted in midair and dived for the noisy rider. Tako veered again, the creature missing him by a few inches, sending up a spray of red dust and sand.

"I’m making for the Deadman's Rock," he shouted to Jacko, who was now galloping away. "If I live, I'll be there!" He dodged another dive from the creature.

Tako's horse started to foam; she wasn't going to last much longer. He would have to ride her as far as possible, then run on foot while the thing fed on his beloved mare.

"Sorry, Betsy." Tako leaned in and patted his horse, kissing it on the neck. "This is gonna be our last ride, mate."

Chapter two

Full Pelt

Gwen tried on yet another pair of knee-high boots, finding the leather too cumbersome to maintain balance.

Outside of questing, her school runners should suffice. But that had been a bush trail, and this was the jagged landscape of the Outback, where leagues of knife-sharp stones crossed with burning sand, bisected by ravines of slippery moss and ankle-deep mud.

Beside her, Debora deliberated between wasteland punk and new world adventurer, assembling her outfit before Gwen could say slip, slop, slap.

"Looking a treat there, Debs." Gwen chewed her lips, wondering if she should give up.

Debora spun, having slipped into a pair of frayed denim shorts, slopped on an Akubra hat and slapped on a tight singlet, she looked plenty comfortable. Compared to Gwen, Debora's Earthen constitution meant that she was highly resistant to the blistering sun. Gwen, on the other hand, had twin Air for elements, one of which drew from the Domain of Negative Energy. Ten unsheltered minutes under the sun and she would have wilted.

"Thanks," Debora Jones, cowgirl, replied.

Gwen sighed. She had anticipated a sexy wasteland wanderer look for herself as well but knew she wouldn't make it half a kilometre exposing that much skin.

Eventually, she found a pair of white cotton, elbow-length skivvies that was breathable and comfortable. At the next store, she found cargo pants in charcoal. Another round of persistent searching located a pair of calfskin ankle boots. And to finish off, she found a checkered, hand-knit Afghan scarf, as well as her daily female necessities.

The shop assistants had been beyond attentive the moment Debora and Gwen had walked onto the premises. They may not have known who the two teenage girls were, but they did know Tess to be Surya's assistant. Added to the fact that Tess was acting as their driver, the NoM staff left no request unfulfilled. Certainly, Gwen had the right regal demeanour. She spoke carefully, politely, and formally, not at all abrasive nor rude to them. Debora, meanwhile, was rougher and the assistants couldn't quite place her within the limited spectrum of their Mage world know-how.

The town, Cessnock, was itself at the centre of the Hunters Region. It was a thriving resource town fuelled by the area's vineyards and primary agriculture. The commercial street was becoming gentrified thanks to the influx of individuals like Surya, who found great pleasure in owning an estate in the country that overlooked Sydney's tablelands.

Gwen paid with the notes, as crystals were primarily used for the exchange of magical items and consumables. The group then made their way to the other side of the town, where now a booming exchange of magical goods was being traded in a local Enchanter's market.

Though there were few items with practical applications for a Mage, the fair was nonetheless of great interest. Following Tess like two puppies, the girls found great pleasure in sifting through trinkets and other minor magical conveniences of the day.

Gwen had never known, for example, that NoMs could harness micro-scale elemental effects without the ability to channel mana. There were items enchanted with minor Glyphs that produced small flames or produced clean water by simply drawing upon the natural motes of mana in the atmosphere. Likewise, minor spell effects that Mages considered trivial such as the cantrip "Light" could be used by NoMs by simply inserting LDM currency sticks into the feeder slot. In this way, these items producing chilling and heating, minor telekinesis, or even small buffs like alleviating fatigue.

These cantrip items, Tess explained, were the mainstay of the lesser Enchanters, Mages who lacked the talent or resources to venture beyond the mid-tier. Unlike Surya, who made thousands of HDMs on commission alone, the majority of Acolytes relied on selling items of convenience to wealthy NoMs for a living.

Gwen nodded, eventually purchasing an inscribed leather belt with a bandoleer of pouches for tubes of potions that hung snug across her hips.

"So, NoMs can't purchase Magic Items to protect themselves?" Gwen was incredulous when Tess raised a point she'd been wondering since arriving at the market.

"Hardly," Tess scoffed. She then bitterly complained that such an ill distinction between NoMs and Mages would bring great chaos. Within history, Surya's Apprentice explained, several nations had already attempted arming the NoMs with empowered items. The results varied greatly depending on the period and the context. The European incursion into African Black-zones ended with bloody noses when the arming of slaves on the Ivory Coast resulted in the loss of said weapons to the Gnolls.

Today, those very Gnolls rove up and down the coast blasting bolts of human magics from appropriated Fire Rods. Worse still, unsavoury grey-market traders had discovered profit in selling said items to Demi-humans in search of crystals, creature cores and rare ingredients.

"Why weren't those people prosecuted?" Gwen asked incredulously.

"It's one of the Tower's policies, or so Surya says." Tess shrugged apathetically. "The Grey Faction supplies the weapons for the intelligent monsters to make war on each other. Now, they're too busy with each other to threaten the dozen or so human cities on the coast."

"What if they turn against us?" Gwen asked worryingly. She certainly never learned this in their school's curriculum.

"Only humans can process stable mana crystals on an industrial scale, dear." Tess laughed haughtily. "They can use it against us, sure, but most of the items have a few dozen charges at best. In a drawn-out war, they'd be out in a month, and we'd have stockpiles for years.

"Not to mention," Tess reached between her bosoms, then pulled out a necklace. Attached to a length of twine was a fang about the size of Gwen's pinkie. "The Fang of a Wemic Patriarch. I bought it at an auction. Ninety-nine per cent chance it was traded and not hunted. I am saving it for when I reach the mid-tiers. Gonna inscribe a polymorphic, strength-enhancing animus onto it."

The conversation then turned to the town. Tess obliged by introducing the girls to the locals. The NoM ranchers were mostly men, a few women, and they were all as hard as cured leather. When Gwen mentioned that her opa had asked her to help the ranchers with their roo problems, the settlers were more than happy to ask for help.

The first to make the request was a tall and well-built man named Rhodes, the owner of a vineyard not far from town. He had a not-too-beat-up Landcruiser beside him that hinted at a successful business operation and he immediately took a liking to the girls. Once the quest for roo clearing was given, he offered to pick Gwen and Debora from Surya's estate first thing the following morning. Gwen agreed, and after an exchange of Message Glyphs, went their separate ways.

The girls then proceeded to have lunch at a delicatessen in town that specialised the Wild Land ingredients. The daily specials were Orange Zone Wood Mallard, and terrine of Horned Rabbit served cold with farmhouse vegetables. As the girls were broke, it was Tess' shout.

Late mid-afternoon, the girls finally came home, going their separate ways to do personal training. Debora worked in the foundry, perfecting her new Bronze Skin technique. Meanwhile, Gwen took the opportunity to try out her new Schools of Magic in a discreet wooded alcove of Surya's Estate.

"Detect Magic." Gwen invoked the tier one Divination staple. Gradually, her eyes appeared to have gained an Instagram filter, painting the world in multicoloured hues. Transmutation had a slightly lilac glow, permeating the lodge as Surya and the others worked. Enchantment, on the other hand, glowed golden and eggshell, though the school tended to borrow its hues from whatever Cores or stones it was inscribed into. On Henry's manual, her Master had stated that as her proficiency grew, her Divination would become synaesthetic and innate.

"Detect Traps." Her second Divination spell was stranger, and of course, the estate had no traps that she could see.

Next, she attempted a few some self-buffing spells. First, she shook out her long limbs, then she broke into a dead sprint. "JUMP!"

Gwen leapt, her legs reinforced by Transmutation. She had a good affinity for the translocation spell as her body was mana-rich with elemental Air. The description had prescribed an “enhanced leap of about two to three metres”. By her estimate, though, she must have been a good four metres from the ground.

Instantly, she regretted her curiosity. With limbs flailing, she fumbled through the air. This was precisely why her next spell was highly recommended before attempting "Jump". "Feather Fall!"

Gwen's descent slowed. The spell didn't so much as make her lighter as immediately reduce the velocity and acceleration of her body as she fell. Perhaps if she was a physicist, she would have a better understanding of the magical mechanics. For now, she could only accept that she was employing magic.

For an hour, she practised jumping and falling until her legs were sore with fatigue but was still dissatisfied that she couldn't grasp the timing. From what Debora had described of her abilities, she could scale buildings and walls by using a combination of the two spells. In fact, very skilled Transmuters could even scale near-vertical cliffs with naught but Jump.

At dusk, she returned to the estate for a simple supper of meat and veggies. With Surya, she conversed about the town, the people they met, and the things they saw. Happily, Surya brought out a dozen vials of minor healing and mana potions, split the injectors between Gwen and Debora, then wished them good luck for the outing the next day.

Once her grandfather was gone, Gwen and Debora returned to their bedrooms, their alone time made awkward by the events of the night before. At her door, Debora lingered for a few seconds longer than Gwen, listening and hoping before her door clicked shut.

Rhodes arrived bright and early the next day, his jeep making a ruckus as it bit loudly into the gravel road.

"Magus Huang! Good to see ya, mate," the jolly rancher announced expansively, walking into the open atrium with a box of Shiraz and Merlot.

"Just Surya is fine, Jonathan." Surya motioned for an NoM servant to take the box before shaking the hand of the vineyard manager.

"Ha! Don't let the missus hear that, she'd skin me alive."

"Well, you can be at ease here. My place, my rules."

Sharing the lark, the two men bantered until Gwen and Debora emerged in their adventuring gear.

Debora was quite the sight in her shorts and singlet, her hat dipped low to just reveal her bright amber eyes. Compared to Gwen, her Transmutation techniques required a wide range of bodily motion for close combat, hardly conducive to easily damaged sleeves and pants.

Beside Debora, Gwen looked more like an aristocratic adventurer from the countryside of England; a tourist who had wandered in by accident. Gwen had always possessed the fair skin particular to northern Europeans, and now with the flux of her Void mana, she was becoming even paler.

Bemused by his girl's earnestness, Surya checked their gear. He made sure the girls counted their mana and health injectors, and that Gwen carried tinder, ropes, a tent, bottled water, rations and so on in her Storage Ring.

"Opa," Gwen kissed her grandfather on the cheek, "we're off!”

Rhodes' vineyard was more famous than Gwen had thought. Even as an underage student, she had seen his brand of Shiraz advertised here and there in the city. McGuigan's Estate, it was called; owned by a family of Mages for three decades. Their present host, he explained, was the estate's manager and caretaker.

From the outset, the vineyard was a beautiful sea of stakes that stretched out until it ended with the curvature of the landscape. Built on a hilltop, it was a beautiful place that offered a vista of the valley below. Under Rhodes' care, they were taken on a tour of the facilities, ending with the girls walking through the vineyard itself, touching rows of vines pregnant with amethyst orbs.

Eventually, the three of them struck a section of the fence which had been torn up.

"So yeah, the roos are outta water at this time of year, and they come and wreak havoc on our grapes." Rhodes sighed. "They're trying to get to the reservoir we'd dug out back, but that water's for the grapes." He picked up a few pieces of splintered wood. "If it’s two or three or a dozen, it’s not a big deal, but it’s when the mobs come through that they start doing real damage."

Gwen regarded the fences before her. These were not the cute little waist-high fences they had used in her old world. These were two-metre tall fences barbed with lengths of knotted iron. How big were the bastards if a roo could crash through a solid block of wood?

Just as she raised her hand, there was a commotion by the bushes. Right before their eyes, a big red came hopping along without a care in the world.

Gwen's eyes popped at the sight of the thing. Sure, it was a little taller than she had expected, maybe two and a half odd metres, but the muscles on that thing! It was ripped beyond belief, as though it had fed on equal parts berries and anabolic steroids.

"Oooh, a big bugger!" Rhodes said appreciatively. "Look at the arms on that thing. What a beautiful bastard. Those legs! I bet it could take a full-sized auroch head-on and come out on top. Pelts worth a few crystals if you can keep it intact."

Debora's eyes lit up.

"I got this," she said confidently. "Enhanced Strength! Enhanced Constitution! Bronze Skin! Jump!"

Before Gwen could intervene, Debora leapt into the fray. Gwen noted with irony that Debora's actions somewhat resembled a kangaroo herself. Her trajectory took her instantly toward the red roo that regarded its assailant with complete disdain. When Debora firmly landed with a thud, it reared back onto its tail, growing instantly to a good three metres.

She watched as Debora relaunched herself, her dominant arm winding up a right hook. At her level, the force of the punch was enough to shatter stone and dent steel plates, if she connected, Debs should lay the big roo flat.

THUMP!

"OOF!"

To their surprise, the roo caught Debora in midair with a well-aimed kick. It snapped her momentum in half, bent her body like a boomerang and sent her back from whence she came. With a yelp, the Transmuter tumbled through the air before striking the ground with a thud, skidding into the grassy knolls. Instantly, Debora recovered and stood up. Her face was flaming red, but she was unharmed.

The roo was as surprised as Debora. It must have expected her to snap in half because it now grew warier. It began to paw the air, looking like an expert boxer ready for round two.

"Deb! Close your eyes!" Gwen called out before uttering a well-placed Flashbang.

BUNG!

She conjured the explosion right beside the twitching ears of the big roo, catching it by complete surprise. Instantly, the roo was smothered in a painful world of blinding light and sound, dropping onto its feet with a heavy thump. It then attempted to flee, its fight or flight reflex on overload. However, in its panic, it instead made a beeline for Debora.

And Debora was ready. As it came within range, she whipped around her athletic legs in a whirlwind arc and roundhoused it in the head. There was a crunching sound of bone as its trajectory changed, finally landing in a heap some distance away, its head facing an impossible angle.

"Whole pelt!" Debora grunted with effort, recovering from being winded by the big red. "That's a whole pelt, right?"

Their employee was covered in a cold sweat, likely shocked that the two girls thought fist-fighting a big red roo was a good idea. "Yeah… that's a whole pelt," he muttered. Indeed, it was a good kill, and the pelt was entirely undamaged.

"Alright! Who's next!" Debora shouted into the distance. "Gwen, get ready!"

The head of another roo rose from the bushes—a small cute joey.

Oh no! Gwen thought. Did we kill its…

A second head rose from the thick, dense grass—bigger and far more badass.

Then a third.

And a fourth.

Then another dozen bobbing heads emerged in quick succession. Big and red, tall and majestic. Muscles rippling with popping veins and an expression of blue murder.

"…" Debora moved between the herd and Gwen.

Two portals opened beside Gwen. Out came Ariel and Caliban, hissing at the creatures in front of them.

Rhodes felt his stomach tie into a knot, his heart reaching for his throat. Two teenage girls, a ferret, and a what-the-fuck-is-that stood against a dozen roos built like brick shit-houses. How the hell, Rhodes wondered, did it come to this?

Chapter three

Great Expectations

“Betsy, I'll avenge you, I promise."

Tako swore to the heavens as he scrambled up Deadman's Rock. The landmark was a substantial chunk of wind-blasted obsidian over ten metres tall. Usually, it offered a fantastic view, though the climb itself was precarious. That was precisely the reason Tako had scrambled for shelter in its direction, for there was no way the land shark could climb something so smooth and brittle. Even if the creature managed to damage the landmark at its base, the obsidian deposit would still offer a razor-sharp surprise when its exteriors fell away to reveal an edge that could shred leather as though it was paper.

Tako himself had done the climb several times before as a dare, though only had he been sober. Now, he scrambled up its sides, fingers digging into familiar nooks and crannies. There was a moment of suspension when he accidentally lost his footing near the peak, but sheer adrenaline propelled him over the edge.

From above, he could see the creature, some hundred-odd metres away, chewing away at his horse. In their last exchange, the land shark had erupted from the red earth and floored Betsy, sending her tumbling. The unfortunate horse had struck the ground awkwardly, after which Tako knew the end was nigh. Betsy had neighed tragically and thrashed about, kicking up a storm of red dust. But Tako could only bite his lip and run. He recalled that there had been one last desperate neigh, smothered by a triumphant roar. After that, Tako knew that it was over for his beloved mare.

"SKARRK!"

From the advantage of the rock, he could see the creature tearing poor Betsy apart, sending chunks of her down its gluttonous gullet. If Tako were a Mage, he would have pounded the bastard with Magic Missiles, but for now, there was nothing else he could do but wait. The light was beginning to wane, and he had left his saddlebags on Betsy.

Tako shivered. It was going to be a cold, long night.

Caliban tore into the chest of a big red roo, its slimy shielding of Void energies cutting through the thick hide with the ease of punching tissue paper. When it emerged from the creature's torso with a rip-roaring cry of triumph, Gwen felt her vitality restored by a small magnitude.

Beside Caliban, Ariel was raining down a storm of blue-white destruction. Empowered by Gwen's Lightning Bolts, the burning hides of the roos struck by the mongoose smelled like mouldy carpet set on fire.

Debora had set up a perimeter wall around them with a modified Wall of Stone, changing the semicircle of elevated rocks into jagged spikes that fanned out dangerously. With a simple change in the flow of mana, she could expand, distend or even launch a line of spines. Already she had caught three roos that had tried to assail Gwen in close combat, impaling the buggers like oversized lizards captured by a Spined Shrike.

Another roo had tried a frontal assault, sneaking past the wall to strike at Debora with a deadly kick launched from its powerful tail. She responded by bracing for impact, digging her heels into the ground by summoning stones that secured her footing. As a result, the roo ricocheted off her torso and slid under her flank, at which point she swung down her heel like an axe. The blow struck the roo on the forehead, engendering the sound of splintering bones. When yet another roo made it past her Wall of Spikes, she sent out a Catapult spike that pierced its torso and pinned it to the ground, where a secondary explosion of Ground Spike transformed the roo into a kebab.

Some distance away, Rhodes oozed while the girls fought. The engagement was a massacre and he was in an abattoir. The NoM manager could scarcely have guessed that two delicate-looking teenage girls were capable of butchering eight-foot roos with the ease of kicking chooks.

The last roo fled.

"Lightning Bolt!" Gwen intoned with a flourish. A blue-white bolt ionised in the distance and pierced the last red roo through the chest, sending it crashing onto the red dust.

Debora counted her kills. Five big roos, three with near-full pelts.

Gwen examined her own. Seven big, two small, four medium roos, nary an unburnt pelt between the lot of them.

Caliban burst from the chest of a fresh kill with a flourish.

"Hiss! Hiss!" it roared in triumph, its lamprey mouth bloody with excitement, its barbed tongues flailing wildly. Gore slid from its glass-like carapace, pooling where it met the purple-pink flesh underneath.

Some distance away, Rhodes barfed.

Gwen conjured some water with a cantrip incantation and the girls washed off the blood. Gwen was untouched thanks to Debora, while Debora had to wring blood from her arms and legs.

"Prestidigitation!" she incanted. The bloodstains evaporated.

Gwen's eyes flashed. She was a Transmuter now too! She could also master the most useful spell in the history of dry cleaning. It would be the very next thing she requested from Master.

"Right, good work." Rhodes washed out his mouth with some water from a hose, then took a deep breath. "Let's get you settled in. Do you want to take horses, quads or the 4x4 truck?"

Gwen watched as Debora's eyes flashed. It made sense. All girls dreamt of horses and ponies.

As for Gwen, her passion for riding was no less inflamed.

Rhodes took them to the stable and selected two beautiful mares. Gwen's mount was a grey-white yearling with a distinct, spotted pattern; Debora's was a pure white mare that made her eyes glow with admiration.

"Daisy and Dorothea," Rhodes introduced them. "We'll put you through the paces at the farm. Come on. I'll introduce you to our tracker, Tommy."

The girls picked out suitable saddles and watched Rhodes strap them on. Gwen watched as Rhodes helped Debbie mount the gentle mares, his eyes unblinkingly gazing past her friend's tanned thighs. Midway, the man must have spotted a drop of dark blood on her boot heel and was reminded that these sensual bronze stalks had just crushed the head of a three-metre Roo. He coughed politely and gathered his wits.

While the girls took turns riding, Rhode went and looked for the young jackaroo. When the girls returned from their first lap, they were greeted by a leather-skinned young man with thick lips and a pleasant face.

"Hi, lovelies, me name's Tommy," he greeted them jovially with a wave of his hand.

Flap!

Rhodes slapped his hand over Tommy's hat, sending it tumbling until the string snagged Tommy's neck. "These are Lady Mages, Tommy! Have some manners, ya dill!"

"Sorry, boss," Tommy said cheekily. "Ya Majesty Mages!"

"Hi, I am Gwen," Gwen replied with an incline of her head.

"Debora." Debora extended a hand and Tommy ran up to shake it.

"Cor! You're mighty strong, miss!" Tommy spat, attracting yet another bat on the head from Rhodes.

"Tommy, you better stop muckin’ around. The Misses need ta get a handle on the horses. You're going out there later this arvo to round up some roos. Just make sure they get there safe and sound, alright?"

"Yes, boss!" Tommy nodded. "Alright, misses, I'll put ya through the paces. Daisy and Dorothea are real good with young jillaroos. You'll be right as rain!"

"Right. I gotta head back to the office." Rhodes bid them goodbye; he had still had a dozen roo carcasses to sort out. Pending their earlier slaughter, he would have to get the meat to the coolers and the pelts processed. "Message me if you need anything!"

The girls spent the next hour or so practising horsemanship. Debora was a natural, taking to the horse like a hob on a wolf. Gwen, however, was in a world of pain by the time an hour was over. Her buttocks were bruised and her thighs were chafed. Her spine felt compressed and her shoulders throbbed.

Lunch was brought by a few ranch hands in tin foil trays. Unsurprisingly, it was grilled roo served with a simple pan gravy on grilled vegetables. The girls offered to share it with Tommy, but the young man proved too apprehensive to eat with them. Instead, he offered to take their leftovers. Feeling somewhat miffed by the happy-go-lucky young man's meekness, Gwen shared a single serve with Debora and left her serving for the jackaroo. Once the girls had eaten, they watched the boy wolf down the sizeable steak, waiting until he had finished the meat before asking him about his life on the ranch.

"Yeah, I'm pretty happy here, the boss's a top bloke." Without disguise, the young jackaroo spoke of his good fortune in finding work somewhere south of the Shield Barrier.

By now, Gwen could see that the young man was an Indigenous youth. She had read that the Indigenous people had carved out a niche in the Wildland, surviving on ancient Spirit magic and animalism. Aboriginal lore was an area of great interest to Gwen, especially after meeting the fabled Serpent of folklore, which Henry suspected may indeed be the Rainbow Serpent.

"What of your tribe?" Gwen asked carefully. It was a touchy topic back in her old world. The English colonists had had little empathy for those they had deemed the “noble savages”; less so when it came to land rights.

"It's a living." Tommy shrugged. "Mostly the elders and a few blokes stay with the mob, the rest are like me, we come down past the Shielding Station to find some wrangling work. The skilled ones could use their magic to work the animals or become trackers for the militia."

"Are there many of you?"

"Yeah, nah," The boy laconically replied, implying, "yes but not many left in the old ways."

"I'd love to see what a Wildland settlement is like," Gwen mentioned casually.

"Sure, miss, be glad to take ya. If the boss allows it. Journey's right dangerous."

"I think we can manage just fine," Gwen thanked the young wrangler. She would love to find out more about the Serpent's lore.

They were sitting out digesting the big lunch when the first runner arrived.

"Tommy! Mate! Heard you got some Mages on the farm!" A ride leapt off his horse deftly and skidded to a halt, leaving behind an impressive trail of dust.

Tommy was still working the girls through the paces. Debora was already proficient enough to range and roam, but Gwen was another story altogether.

"Victa, what's wrong, mate?"

"It's the Adina boys, they went out droving their Angus and ran into some kinda shark monster yesterday. Jacko just got back with Stevo, but Takahashi is still trapped near Deadman's Rock, assuming he's alive o'course."

"Shit, really? Fuck me. The poor bastard must be up shit creek without a paddle." Tommy scratched his head apprehensively. "Look, mate, I wanna help as much as anybody but I ain't gonna command no Mages. Maybe you should take it up with the boss."

Victa looked over at the two girls still trotting to and fro on their horses.

Telling the boss was the right thing to do, but all that was gonna happen was that Rhodes put out a reward for the monster and they go out a day or two later to see what parts of Takahashi they could find. Rhodes wasn't a bad guy. Hell, he was as much of a top bloke as bosses come, but even he couldn't summon a Mage to help. Magical aid was costly, meaning that the whole estate would owe debts they would struggle to repay.

Gwen and Debora rode up beside the young men. "Is something the matter?" Gwen inquired curiously upon seeing their looks of consternation.

Tommy's face was an open book. "Is nothing much, miss," he began. "Just one of the boys stranded a half day's ride from here. Got himself corralled by a real pickle of a monster, half-shark they say, ate poor Betsy, his mare. Real savage like, blood and guts and all. The poor horse was still alive when it dug in."

"Monstrous!" Debora's blood was instantly up. She stroked her mare, Dorothea, lovingly.

"We're right worried," Tommy lamented. "Poor old Tako, got an old mam too, not ta mention his pop got a real bad case of rheumatism. I guess his sister ain't gonna go to school after he dies. Maybe she can find some legwork in the big city, doing some menial labour and all that."

Debora's breath quickened. Her face turned several shades of red. Gwen regarded Tommy coldly, making the dark jackaroo flinch.

"Gwen…"

Gwen patted Debora's shoulder and urged her to calm down. "So, Tommy, what does this have to do with us?" she asked. She was determined to help, but also annoyed that Tommy thought wrangling Debora with a sob story was going to get them to help.

"Oh…" Tommy knew he'd stepped on a sleeping wombat's testes. "I-I don't rightly know Miss, but them's the facts o' life."

"Gwennie…" Debora begged, her eyes twinkling with desperation. The sight of a pleading Debbie was cute. Very much so. More so for her ardent desire to do good. Gwen groaned, lamenting her lost innocence.

"Just this one time, Tommy." She turned to warn the young station hand. "I catch you next time, and I'll get Caliban to rip you a new one."

"Sure thing, miss!" Tommy's face broke into that careless, idiotic grin of his. Gwen wondered how much of it was a ruse and how much of it was real.

"Let's go now," Debora announced, turning her horse.

"We need water and supplies." Tommy wheeled his horse.

"No need." Gwen flashed her Storage Ring. "Get going!”

"Opa, it's Gwen. We’ve got a situation out here." Gwen explained the crisis of the moment and what they intended to do.

"Careful, the land shark can grow up to tier V. It's rather rare to see one this close to the city though. I hope nothing is amiss at the Shield Wall station."

"Shall we check it out after?" Gwen asked.

"Too far without Flight spells. I'll get Rhodes to bring up the 4x4 to the closest main road. Want me to send Tess or Mel?"

Gwen gave it some thought but decided against it. She wanted to be tempered and trialled to grow in her many Schools of Magic. That and in so far as her Void talent was concerned, there was nothing better than fighting in an isolated Outback full of clueless NoMs. At worst, even if Tess or Mel showed up, they could be trusted to keep their lips tight.

"I think we will be alright, Opa," Gwen assured Surya through her Message Device. "I'll contact you if we run into trouble."

"There's probably no Divination signal if you venture too far out, but good hunting. Take care of Debora."

"Yes, Opa." Gwen glanced at her companion. “I'll bring her back in one piece."

"All done?"

"Done." Gwen turned to the two jackaroos. "Let's get going, then."

According to Tommy, Deadman's Rock was a half-day ride away. They should be able to reach the landmark by nightfall. For the average NoM, riding into the darkness, even with a torch, was suicide. However, Gwen could conjure an array of Floating Torch, Dancing Lights and Flares. If and when they needed light, a good twenty to thirty metres around the party was manageable.

Not to mention I can detect Magical Creatures, Gwen noted to herself.

Thanks to the horses, there was no need to take a detour back to the main road. The four of them simply crashed through the stunted, short shrubbery of the bush, alternating between trots and gallops. When the horses needed to rest, Gwen produced water, when they were hungry, snacks and rations materialised from thin air.

Of the foursome, Debora had been the antsiest out of them all. She was alternatively worried about running the horses and tiring them out, while paradoxically wanting to run the horses haggard to rescue Takahashi.

As for the jackaroos, they were acclimatised to death in the Outback. When Debora demanded to know why they weren't pulling their hair out, Tommy explained that somebody died every other week from Magical Creatures, from accidents, from starvation or thirst or natural disasters. If folks worried about death to excess, nobody would ever get work done.

By nightfall, the group saw Deadman's Rock in the distance.

"Flare!" Gwen incanted, channelling more mana into it than she needed. The space around them soon took on a bright blue glow.

"Dancing Lights!" Again, Gwen over-channeled the spell and about a dozen or so lights appeared. Thanks to her dual-mastery of Conjuration, the orbs could follow her and remain persistent.

The party slowed as it approached the destination.

"I’ma tryin’ call Tako," Tommy forewarned. "It's gonna be loud." He put two fingers to his lips and let out a shrill and sharp whistle that assaulted the girls’ eardrums.

Nothing.

He tried again.

Still nothing.

"Let me," Gwen offered.

She pointed to the highest point she could reach with her Conjuration spell, a good twenty or so metres in the air. "Flashbang!"

An explosion of sound and light rang out overhead. The fulmination rolled across the horizon, blowing apart the sand and dust below.

"Christ, that's loud!" Tommy covered his ears.

Discreetly, Gwen activated Detect Magical Beasts.

A filter suffused her vision. Any creature with powerful elemental Cores would be lit with the hue of their element. According to her opa, the land shark was hardly a subtle creature and should be visible even a good few feet underground.

A shrill whistle answered them from atop the rock.

"Thank God." Tommy and Victa grinned like shot foxes. "The bastard's alive!"

The light faded. The party continued its approach.

"Oi, mate, I found something." Victa pointed to the distance. "Ah, the misses might wanna look away."

To their right laid the hollowed form of Betsy, and the old girl was a mess of flesh and bones.

"What a brute," Victa grunted sadly. "She was a good horse."

"Yeah well, that's why the misses are here to put it down, ain't ya, miss?" Tommy turned to the girls.

Debora gripped her reins, her face full of undisguised anger. Gwen's expression was more aloof. The boy was too proficient at trying to stir Debora's blood, Gwen felt. That or Debbie needed to work on mastering her hormones.

They were even closer now and could just make out Tako's silhouette from atop the large piece of volcanic obsidian. He was waving like a madman.

Gwen looked around them. It was strange that she couldn't detect a single magical source.

More frantic waving from Tako. He was pointing towards the sky.

Gwen looked up. It took a second for Tako's charades to be digested by her brain.

"It's right below us!" she cried out, leaping from her horse. Unlike the others, she wasn't skilled enough to try and deal with the creature while mounted. "Debbie! Jump!" Gwen incanted the spell she had been practising all yesterday without thinking. "Feather Fall!"

At the height of her ascent, her trajectory slowed. Below, she watched her frightened horse bolt away.

A second later, a gigantic creature careened into solid granite and, sleek as a missile, shot from the ground towards her. It missed her by a good half-metre, but had she not been levitated thanks to Feather Fall, it would have snagged her leg. Glancing downwards, she gazed into its maw and saw row upon row of teeth that extended into the abyss of its gullet.

Beside Gwen, Debora leapt off her horse with far more dynamics, buffing herself as she sailed through the air. She took full advantage of her momentum and landed with an impressive axe kick on the creature's torso, shattering some of its stony scales.

Crunch!

The creature lurched sideways in surprise and pain, snapping at her awkwardly as it skidded across the dusty red dirt.

"Gwen!" Debora called, snapping Gwen from the aftershock of almost becoming shark bait. According to their opa, land sharks had a specialised death roll that they used to tear limbs from their prey.

In the air, Gwen took the opportunity to summon her Familiars. Her beasts materialised from their pocket dimensions on either side of the shark, forming a triangle between Caliban, Ariel and Debora with the creature stuck in the middle.

Just as they were about to make their move, the creature dived. To Gwen and Debora's surprise, it drove into the earth as though swimming through water. Gwen channelled more mana into her eyes and noted worryingly that beyond the first metre or so, her Detection spell did not penetrate further into the red earth.

"Shit." Gwen felt a cold premonition of what was to come. She couldn't Fly, and that was a fatal flaw. Should she keep using Jump and Feather Fall? Any more Transmutation spells and Debora would be asking awkward questions.

Thankfully, Debora's quick thinking salvaged their paralytic dilemma. "Minor Shape Stone!" she incanted. Pillars of stone rose from the earth to a height of several metres. The girls both found purchase and quickly scaled to safety. Caliban coiled around Gwen's pillar while Ariel could duck into something as clumsy as a turd-shaped predator the size of a utility vehicle.

The land shark burst from the earth like a torpedo and launched itself onto Debora's pillar, completely obliterating its circumference. Its beady little eyes glowed with malevolence, clearly irritated beyond belief that a small mewling creature could have cracked its carapace and caused it such injury.

"Ariel!"

The mongoose peppered the creature with motes of lightning.

"Blast Bolt!" Gwen channelled a sizeable portion of her mana into the blast, and the land shark lit up like a light bulb.

The light faded.

"SKAARRRK!"

The creature was well-cooked but otherwise lively. It roared, spraying rotten spittle all-over before leaping from the ruined pillar towards Gwen.

Debora shot like a ballista bolt from her own ruined pillar. She then activated her most potent combination of spells. "Haste! Magic Weapon!"

The Transmuter became a blur of whirling kicks and punches, smashing into the creature with the fury and force of an excavation machine pulverising the earth. Bits of carapace flew into the air, smeared with dark, crimson shades of oxidising blood. As bone and flesh rendered, Debora grew speckled in the stuff, her white singlet blooming with sudden gouts of garnet and sangria.

To Gwen's disbelief, the land shark withstood Debora's assault. Not only that, it twisted its stunted neck at an impossible angle and snapped Debora off her feet. There was the sound of metallic gnashing as her friend’s bronze skin scraped against razor-sharp fangs. Debora gasped and cried out sharply, the force of the crushing bite cracking her ribs, pressing the air from her lungs.

The creature tossed its prey wildly. Debora was too tall for the shark-headed beast to swallow whole. Gwen saw the shark ready itself for a death roll. "FUCK!" She swore under her breath. There was no avoiding it now. "Void Bolt!"

In quick succession, Gwen shot off four bolts with unerring accuracy, her aim tempered with a thousand repetitions. While standing on its stumpy legs, the land shark had remained relatively stationary. Even now, it lifted its bull neck and readied itself for the roll.

Vitality drained from Gwen's body, her face taking on the pallor of death.

Four bolts cut into the creature's limbs in quick succession. The first two struck true, slicing the forelimbs clean off at the joints. The back legs, however, were too thick for Gwen's low-tier attack. The bolts were consumed midway, leaving the limbs to hang by skin and bone.

Instantly, the land shark's blood sprayed hot and heavy over the red earth, yet it was too dumb to register its mortal wounds. With its prey safely deposited in its maw, it persisted in throwing itself into the motions of a death roll. Gwen watched as the thing turned, only to have the pain reach its nerve centre a full second later, paralysing the shark-faced rhino instantly. Debora pushed apart its jaws and extracted herself, streaks of white markings lacerating her stomach and lumbar, crisscrossing her bronze legs.

"Tough bastard." Debbie coughed, evidently feeling the soreness of her cracked ribs.

The creature was convulsing now, bleeding out rapidly. Its beady eyes staring with hatred towards the girls even as they dimmed. Caliban approached, revealing its malignant, hateful maw. Gwen’s creature salivated. Here was a lot of fresh meat; a good half-ton at least. She was wondering if she should allow Debora the honour of having the deathblow when there was a call from the direction of Deadman's Rock.

It was the jackaroos, and they were returning with their lost mate, Tako. Warily, the station hands approached.

Gwen regarded Tako, who, according to his mates, had risked his life to protect the herd and their lives. To her surprise, he was an Asian bloke, but then she recalled the guy's Japanese name. Unlike Tommy and Victa, the young man approached the land shark without an ounce of fear.

"May… may I kill it?" he enquired carefully with a voice that was cracking with emotion.

Gwen nodded and stepped aside, calling back Caliban and Ariel, who returned to their pocket dimensions. She was feeling a little nauseated from using four bolts in succession and had hoped the land shark would replenish some of her vitality. But she was also content to let Tako take revenge the old-fashioned way.

Debora reached down into the earth. "Minor Stone Shape!" She extracted from the ground a dangerous-looking obsidian spear. Obsidian, on the whole, was a brittle crystal, but when chipped, it was impossibly sharp. With a wince, she handed the weapon carefully to Tako.

They watched the young drover approach the land shark. The light was fading from its eyes now; it was barely alive. "This is for Betsy, ya piece of shit!" he shouted, raising the stone spear to strike.

SCHURRK!

With the sickening sound of a crab being pierced by a knife, the obsidian spear slid into the creature's eye socket. Midway, the spear broke away, leaving a good half-metre inside the shark's skull.

"Strewth!"

"Fuckin’ oath!"

"Fuck me!"

The others agreed most heartily with Tako's display of courage.

It took a few more seconds for the creature to finally expire. Gwen was just about to turn away when she felt something she hadn't experienced since the Field Trip. There was a wisp of something, barely perceptible at the edge of her vision. The strange phenomenon seemed to have emanated from the dead beast. She looked around, wondering what the thing could be.

As before, she placed her hand upon her chest and felt the Kirin amulet aglow with warmth.

"Oh?" Debora seemed to have sensed something as well. She knelt at the beast's gut and, to Gwen’s surprise, dug both hands into its soft underbelly. A slosh of gory stuff came rolling out, causing the crew to gag. Just as Gwen was wondering what the hell Debora was doing, she pulled out an amber stone the size of her fist.

"Is that a Creature Core?" Gwen asked, completely caught off-guard. If it was a Spirit, then they had just won the game of life. If this Magical Creature had a unique Spirit, that would explain why it had been able to dive so deep and 'swim' through the ground so effortlessly, bypassing the Shield Barrier.

Debora's gore-covered hands were shaking. She was an Earth Elementalist. If this was really the Core of an Earthen Spirit…

She looked at Gwen with begging eyes. They were at a crossroad.

The most ardent test of character now awaited the girls; a test that had destroyed many friendships.

How to split the rare loot.

Chapter four

Premonitions

When a group of adventurers worked together, the etiquette of fair loot must be observed. It was the unspoken law of Mages, for no Mage could survive without companions and there was no deadlier destroyer of parties than a leader who hoped to claim all loot.

Usually, a party has five members. They receive a thousand HDMs worth of spoils.

Via the simple conjunction of arithmetic, each member should receive something equal in value. Should a member require a particular item of great importance, they were to pay the other members the missing cost, following an appraisal.

However, there were two distinct problems which now faced Gwen and Debora.

Firstly, if this was a tier-III-to-V Earthen Spirit, it meant that the Core's value was close to four to five thousand HDMs. If the Spirit possessed additional properties other than an affinity increase and identify friend-foe, it's monetary value would compound.

The second problem was that Debora's middle-class family was far from wealthy. Simply put, the Spirit was simply 'too good' for a mediocre Mage such as herself. In her lifetime, Debora likely would never afford a mid-tier Spirit. The loot was simply out of her league. The correct thing to do would be to sell the Spirit Core and split the money; a win-win for all.

Deep inside, Gwen knew that her friend desperately wanted more power so that she could catch up with her peers. This Elemental Spirit was her chance, her one opportunity. If she could somehow meld with this Spirit of Earth, her spells would become more powerful by several magnitudes. With any luck, her incantations would take on new side effects that may alter the physiology of her magic, making her a unique existence.

Such was their dilemma. If they had found a Lightning Elemental, Gwen could arguably pay back Debora by begging Henry or Surya for a loan. But with the shoe on the other foot, there was little Debora could do to reciprocate her favour.

If so, how should she resolve their loot? Here was a watershed moment for Debora, but for herself, it was merely another boon.

Gwen took a deep breath. She loved money, but she loved her friends more. "I'll get the next one, then. Is that alright with you?" She intoned carefully. She felt a scrap of regret, but the foul feeling quickly passed.

Across from her, Debora's eyes blazed with gratitude and gladness, so much that her body physically trembled with joy. Watching Debbie's reaction, her heart melted. With effortless ease, she fought off that mocking demon called envy.

"T-thank you! Gwen, thank you so much!" Debora gushed, cradling the Spirit Core to her chest like a baby. "I-I don't know what to say!"

"Then say nothing." Gwen smirked.

"Should… should I try it now?"

Gwen held her tongue. Debora was a smart girl. The night was long, and minds could change in an instant. "Wait up, let’s set up camp," she advised. "Tako, Tommy, can you find us a good spot?"

"You got it, boss!"

The makeshift party soon set up camp under the obsidian outcrop, shielded from the wind and the elements. Gwen set up a perimeter of Dancing Lights while the boys got to work clearing a space. She produced two tents from her storage ring, some sleeping bags, and an assortment of camping supplies.

Not far away, Tako's eyes went wide with shock, but the other two young drovers were already used to such miracles. With worshipful awe, the jackaroo stared at the most downright attractive girl he'd ever seen.

Gwen caught Tako gawking and the young buck quickly looked away. She didn't mind the stupefied looks; it wasn't every day that people materialised filet mignon from thin air. If she had been an NoM, she would have been equally impressed.

Meanwhile, Debora rinsed the blood from her body. Her white shirt was ruined, but her shorts and boots were intact. Gwen threw Deb a towel, feeling smug that she had everything inside her Storage Ring. With a little surprise, she realised that this was already her second storage ring. Conversely, Debora may not be able to afford even a Minor Ring of Storage until she was a working adult. Watching her companion, she felt a pang of guilt, understanding that despite her trials and tribulations, she had been spoilt for choice.

More than before, Gwen felt that she had made the right decision to gift Debora with the Spirit Core.

By now, the boys had managed to set up a roaring fire thanks to some magical items of convenience Gwen had purchased from the market. She materialised pots and pans, plates and cutlery, laying out enough for dinner and breakfast. Wordlessly, the jackaroos went about making supper.

With their audience distracted, Gwen turned her attention back to Debora. Her friend had retreated to a corner of the camp and now had the Spirit Core cradled across her lap. With a thrum of mana, she began the ritual.

The process of subsuming a Spirit was simple enough. When defeated, an Elemental Spirit that had previously inhabited a Magical Creature became trapped within its Core. While attuning such a Core, a Mage gained the opportunity to Spirit-bond the elemental to their Astral body. The process gave the elemental a direct link to its home plane, allowing it the sustenance required to maintain its ego. In return, the Mage took on some of the Spirit's abilities and Affinity.

Gwen sat, studying her friend. It was a shame that they were not in a Cognisance Chamber, else she could have witnessed the entirety of the phenomenon in full. In the future, Gwen knew that she would acquire an Elemental Spirit of her own. Though a Void one was out of the question, it was entirely possible to purchase a Lightning Elemental through her Master's connections or to find a Spirit by raiding the Orange and Black Zones.

"Gwen! I am starting!"

"Good luck!" Gwen gave her friend a thumbs up.

Debora held the stone close to her diaphragm, cradling the egg-shaped sphere like a babe. The Transmuter observed the amber glow swirling within, then began the process. There was a glimmer of light, then suddenly the Core grew dull even as Debora's physical body became encased in sand.

"Come on, Debs. You can do it!"

Debora's amber eyes took on a dusky orange glow. Gwen could feel the motes of Earthen mana pour from her friend's body as the Spirit attuned itself, fortifying her Affinity. The particles of stone and sand around Debora began to rise into the air, forming a swirling storm of brown-red dust. Gwen backed away. One of the pebbles had struck her leg with sufficient force to make her wince.

The boys paused in their cooking to observe the spectacle. The dust storm grew until it was a good few metres across, sending Gwen and the others scrambling for cover. Then, as suddenly as it had started, the sandstorm ceased.

A seated female silhouette emerged from the falling dust. Debora had taken on the form of a sandstone statue. Visually, it was the combination of her crossed-legged visage and the guise of a fertility goddess. With their mouths wide open, the jackaroos watched the slow peeling of caked dust from Debora's body, revealing the girl underneath.

Oh, gods! Deb's half-nuddy! Gwen's heart leapt into her throat. She scrambled from cover, a towel materialising as she made it for her friend. Debora, perhaps unaware, tried to meet her halfway. The girl shifted, a cascade of terracotta shells falling from her torso, exposing herself to three young men grinning like shot foxes.

"The stars are a right beaut tonight, Vic."

"Yeah, mate, she's sure glorious to look at."

"Me jeans are a bit tight…"

With a growl, Gwen shot off a low powered Flashbang, sending the boys scurrying for the hills.

Debora lifted her eyes, still dazed by the fusion. Her expression began to change from ambivalence to realisation, then engendering a smile of such genuine joy that it instantly melted Gwen's heart.

"Thank you, thank you so much." Tears rimmed her amber eyes, now overflowing with gratitude. With her arms cradling her waist, Gwen could feel Debora's body pressed against her own. Apprehensively, she placed her hands upon Debora's ribs and put a little distance between them.

Debora stepped back, as naked as Leda in front of the swan.

Gwen stepped back further still, producing a set of shirts and shorts. Silently, she made a mental note to include more garments in future, comprehending why Alesia had such an extensive wardrobe. To her surprise, Debora cast the attire aside haphazardly, making Gwen a little annoyed at the display of wilfulness. "You're too careless." She knelt to retrieve the fallen apparel.

"What does it matter?" Her friend replied in a dreamy trance. "I am so happy right now."

"You look drunk, Debs. How's the Spirit doing?"

Debora pressed a hand to her heart, depressing the nubile flesh. "It's pleased and grateful." She raised a finger, where a crumbling trail of silica began to circulate. "Would you like to see what we can do?"

"I would like to see you dressed first," Gwen said seriously.

Debora shook her head. "I am afraid that's going to be rather difficult. It's one of those abilities."

"A full-body Transmutation?"

Rather than answering Gwen, Debora smiled and raised her arms. Gwen felt motes of Elemental Earth gather around them.

"Bronze Skin!" Debora incanted.

Rather than Transmuting into a being of bronze, her skin turned coarse. Motes of earth with the consistency of sand flowed over Debbie's body. The effect was somewhat unsettling, as to Gwen's eyes, her friend had transformed into a golem consisting of shifting sand.

"I should probably call this Sand Skin now." Debora giggled. "Wall of Sand!" She raised a hand. Where she motioned, walls of sand rose and fell, forming into instant shapes. Small hills, valleys, pillars, battlements, there seemed to be no end to what she could create at will.

Looking down, Gwen felt something take her by the ankles. Before she could react, she and Debora were rising into the air, one metre, two metres, three. A few seconds later, they stood on a platform of compact sand. Gwen exhaled, immensely impressed. Typically, it would be impossible to reach this level of Affinity without years of extensive training.

"I am not sure what my Affinity is at the moment but judging from before, it's more than likely five…"

"That's wonderful," Gwen said, growing more nervous by the minute. Debora was very close and very nude, Sand Skin or otherwise.

"Blink!" Debora announced. She disappeared, becoming nothing but a shell of loose sand, a hollowed-out beach sculpture. Gwen was about clap, then felt a pair of arms wrapping around her waist. She turned awkwardly, meeting Debora's mischievous eyes looking longing into her own.

Gwen looked down. Her scalp instantly crawled.

"Blink" was an inferior form of teleport, one that shunted the body into the ethereal plane before phasing it back in at a nominated location. For low-Affinity casters, it came with the danger of being lost in the grey immaterial space, although Debora's Spirit now superseded that limitation. Unfortunately, "Blink" did not teleport parts of a caster's attire that wasn't suffused by attuned magic. That was the same problem that Alesia faced when not wearing quasi-magical battle gear.

Gwen herself had yet to possess any full-body effect incantations, but now that she was tapping into the versatile school of Transmutation, it was merely going to be a matter of time.

Of course, her most pressing problem remained the overambitious Debora, who appeared to be intoxicated with her new abilities.

"Right! Wonderful, Debs," Gwen said. "Please let me down, and put something on. You'll catch a cold."

"What if I don't want to?" Debora's lips parted, revealing the pink tip of her tongue. "Kiss me."

"Debbie." Gwen's tone grew stern. "I am serious."

"Alright." Debora withdrew, re-materialising below. She lowered Gwen to the ground, allowing Gwen to exhale her bound-up tension. Once again, Gwen handed over new shirts, shorts, and intimates, turning her head aside as her friend dressed.

"Sorry," Debora said once she was properly attired. Not being nude seemed to restore her friend's sanity. "I was a little taken there. By my new powers, I mean."

"That's fine." Gwen gave her friend a blokey punch on the arm. "As long as you're alright, Debbie. How do you feel now? No side effects after subsuming the Spirit?"

"I am fine now." Debora paused. "I owe it all to you, Gwen…"

Her friend's words were a little too serious for Gwen to digest comfortably. She had spoken as though Gwen had saved her from certain death; like she somehow owed a debt of life. "No, Deb, you worked hard too. We're both lucky. I had nothing to do with it."

"I'll pay you back, Gwennie. I swear it. I know I can now. With this Spirit, I can do it."

"Debs…"

"It's alright, Gwen. Just know that I'll never forget what you did for me."

"Alright." Gwen touched her friend's arm. Debora was breaking out in a terrific sweat, but her friend had returned to her flesh and blood self. "Let's get some rest. We’ve got a long way home tomorrow. I am not sure if we need to check up on the Shield Station either. Opa says he'll get in contact with the authorities."

"Okay."

Turning, Gwen left for her tent, sweating profusely but glad that she had just dodged a Debora-sized catapult.

Though they had missed quite a show, the three young bucks remained in good cheer. With supper over, they insisted that the girls take both tents while they formed a little huddle going around the fire. Likewise, they offered to take watch—first Victa, then Tommy, and finally Tako for the last few hours before dawn.

Gwen was glad for the display of Outback chivalry as she had been wary that Debora may take the opportunity to indulge in impromptu snuggling. Her disinterest aside, she simply had no time for relationships. There were too many things still crowding her plate—the Inter-High, the Apprenticeship announcement, her debut as a Void Mage—her woes were endless.

Snug in her sleeping bag, she felt the drain from her Void spells steal the last of her wakefulness. As her eyes closed, so did the dancing lights that had illuminated the perimeter. The camp was plunged into the darkness of the night, lit only by a single campfire, casting shadows that danced against Deadman's Rock.

The jackaroos were up at the crack of dawn. The young bucks went about tidying up the camp and making breakfast with the supplies Gwen had left them in an esky. With ease, the boys made damper and brewed up a heart kettle of English Breakfast, topped off with a few fried eggs and thin rashers of bacon. The girls emerged sometime later, conjuring some water to wash their faces and brush their teeth.

Afterwards, while the girls sat and enjoyed the view of the tablelands, the jackaroos packed the saddlebags. As Gwen and Tako weighed the least, she and the jackaroo shared a horse until they reached the main road, where Surya had promised that a 4x4 would be awaiting them. That had been the source of many a wiggling brow from Tommy and Victa until Gwen raised a sparking finger in warning.

It took an hour or so to reach the highway that stretched out into the ultramarine horizon. Another quarter of an hour later, the group met with Rhodes, who was having morning tea himself from the back of his wagon.

"Boys! Good ta see ya all in one piece."

"Boss."

"Boss."

"Mr Rhodes."

"Tako! Close call, eh? Good work on diverting the land shark."

"It was nothing, sir." Tako scratched his chin.

"It was a good thing you did, son. I'll be sure to let everyone know. I'll find a new horse for you, put in a good word."

Tako seemed a little overwhelmed by the praise. He had, after all, performed his duty in the heat of the moment.

"Gwen, Debora."

"Mr Rhodes, Good morning."

"Morning."

The group made some more small talk before the jackaroos had to take the horses back. The wagon was packed, and Rhodes was ready to chauffeur the girls back to Surya's.

Ding!

Gwen heard the distinct pop of a Message spell.

"Opa?" She cupped an ear.

"Gwen, how goes the hunt?"

"Very well, Opa, it's all done. There are also some exciting new happenings for Debora as a result. I'll tell you later."

"Excellent, I am happy you're both safe."

"Thanks." Gwen gushed.

Surya cleared his throat.

"Yes, Opa?"

Her grandfather's voice took on a more serious tone. "So, I tried to get in contact with the Shield Station yesterday, and they hadn't gotten back to me. This morning, I got some of my associates to check in with their HQ, and the Hunter Stations been out of contact."

"Is that normal, Opa?" Gwen asked quizzically, her crisis senses tingling.

"If we had suffered a mana storm or if there had been a dust devil drifting in, sure. But, with clear skies like last night and the day before? Most definitely no. I suspect your land shark might have something to do with it."

"Should we check it out? Opa?"

"I would normally say no." Surya hesitated. "But it will take the bureau another day to get to the station, it's a safe zone after all, whereas you're with Rhodes, right?"

"Yes, Opa. I am with Mr Rhodes." Gwen shot a smile towards Rhodes, who raised his water bottle in acknowledgement.

"You should be about two hours away from the station then. Would you mind checking in on the boys there?"

"Not at all, Opa," Gwen affirmed.

"Very good, I knew I could count on you. There's a reward waiting for you when you get back."

"Thanks, Opa."

The spell blinked out.

Gwen informed Debora and Rhodes of their new quest.

"Sure thing, those boys been keeping us safe. We should check up on them if monsters are sneaking past the shields somehow." Rhodes nodded and tossed his cigarette, grinding it into the dust. "I am confident you girls can handle anything untoward."

"Sure thing, Mr Rhodes." Debora flexed her biceps.

"Umm… Mr Rhodes?" Tommy raised his hand.

"No! Don't!" Tako pushed his mate to the side. "It's nothing, Mr Rhodes."

"What's the matter, boys?" Rhodes asked. He had told them to take the horses back to the ranch.

Tako was blazingly red, as though the poor sod had been roasting for days. The other two boys nudged him.

"Just do it, Tako, you're the hero of the day!" Victa kicked his mate.

"You'll never get an opportunity like this again!" Tommy slapped the young man on the back.

Tako stumbled forward, his broad-brimmed hat held tightly in his hands.

"Umm, er… Ms Gwen…"

"Yes, Tako?" Gwen raised a brow. "Well, Mr Takahashi, I should say."

Tako possessed the gaze of a samurai ready to receive a blade to the stomach.

"Could I… shout ya dinner? For like, saving me arse and all."

Debora spat out the water she'd been drinking. Rhodes dropped the cigarette he was about to light.

"Nothing fancy like," Tako mumbled. "Just… like at the local pub or something."

Gwen blinked. She slowly swallowed a mouthful of water from her flask, then looked to those around her for guidance. The faces she met were alive with anticipation. Her mind buzzed. It was the first time someone had asked her out, at least in her second life. But Tako was an NoM, and she was a Mage, if so, what was a girl to do?

Chapter five

No Harm in Trying

Gwen wasn't sure if she wanted to entertain the smitten young man or not. Yet, at the same time, what was the harm? Surely she could get shouted dinner and it would be no big deal. She hadn't felt like an ordinary woman since she’d arrived in this world. Wasn't this the most mundane thing that could ever happen to a girl?

"Sure thing," she replied quickly, not wishing to appear hesitant. "Maybe tonight?"

"Y-yes, please!" Tako stammered. The sense of immense relief on his face was unmistakable. "I'll make the reservations!"

She wanted to comment that the local pub didn't take reservations but didn't want to embarrass the boy.

"Hmmph," Rhodes grunted, an indication that he would give Tako a tongue lashing later.

"If you're finished taking up our time, Takahashi, we’ve got a Shield Station to attend to."

"Right you are, Mr Rhodes." Tako gleefully turned and hopped on Gwen's mare. "I'll see you guys back in town tonight. I'll be at the pub at seven!”

The long drive to the shield station was as dull as Gwen had anticipated. The monotonous landscapes extended as far as the eye could see—endless stretches of stunted shrubbery with the occasional sighing of she-gums trailing over waterless billabongs.

Then, like a dark finger pointing toward the heavens, the Shield Station appeared. Like an ominous obelisk, the structure extended until they could see its obsidian-laden base embedded into the earth.

About a hundred metres from their destination, Rhodes rolled the 4x4 to a stop.

"Something ain't right," the rancher muttered. "No guards. Someone should have stopped us by now."

Gwen felt it too, sensing the premonition of trouble. The last time they had visited a Shield Station near the Royal National, they had been swamped by almost a dozen Mages who inspected every panel on their school's bus.

"Let's proceed on foot," she advised. "Mr Rhodes, can you remain here?"

"No worries, lass. I'll be right here," Rhodes assured the girls.

The duo left the wagon.

Wanting to be cautious, Debora slathered on an assortment of self-buffs from Enhanced Strength to Sandskin to Magic Weapons.

Beside the Transmuter, Gwen fixed her sunscreen coverage. She didn't have any buffs of her own and Debora wasn't proficient enough to fortify others.

After that, with Debora taking point, the girls made for the station proper. After checking to make sure that they were within the range of a Divination Tower, Gwen Messaged on her phone before they proceeded. "Opa, we're here. No one met us at the gate. We're going in to investigate."

When no reply came after a minute, the girls proceeded.

The gate to the compound was three metres tall and wrought in steel. Debora pushed slowly, exerting enhanced strength, the gate shuddering as it moved back, exposing a gap just large enough for the two of them to enter.

Inside the compound, there were still no signs of the inhabitants. Something was most definitely amiss, though the girls couldn't see anything out of the ordinary. Now inside the courtyard, they studied the fabled Shield Station. Unlike the Generator Stations, this far out in the Green Zone, the station was merely a waypoint—a relay station.

Still, a contingent of Abjurers should be present, mayhap even a Transmuter on rotation. The landscape of the Outback had frequent storms, both hot and wet, meaning there was a continuous process of replacing worn and torn components.

The entrance into the shielding chamber itself was a set of inscribed double doors set with Glyphs and wards that reacted with extreme prejudice towards uninvited guests. The doors were slightly ajar, their Glyphs of warning cold and muted.

"Let me try something." Debora raised a hand and sent out a shifting swirl of sand. The sand sculpture snaked its way towards the door and pushed on the dark obsidian surface. There was the sound of hinges screaming in protest as it inched inward, but no reaction from the warding magic.

Inside, it was entirely dark.

"How should we proceed?" Debora asked.

"Ariel!"

The marten struck a heroic pose after landing with a lightning-fast somersault.

"Go check out if there's any danger."

Ariel regarded its Master sceptically.

"Please."

"Ee-ee!"

The marten poked its head through the gap between the doors, its pupils expanding to take in the low light. An oily, black button nose sniffed the surroundings as Ariel entered, skittering here and there noting this and that.

"Eee! Ee! Eee-EE!"

"What's it saying?" Debora asked, impressed with Gwen's versatility.

"Um…" Gwen attempted to process her Emphatic Link. Unfortunately, her marten was too limited in its intelligence to relay information in an intelligible manner. "I think it's safe to go inside."

"EE!" The marten glanced at Gwen smugly.

Again, Debora took point as they entered the atrium. Inside, it was too dark for the girls to see.

"Dancing Lights." Gwen willed the half dozen or so wisps to enter the room. Her spell soon illuminated the surroundings, shedding light upon the unspeakable horrors that lay within.

"Jesus Christ, Gwen." Debora gulped.

"Oh my God." Gwen suppressed a gag.

It was as if someone had taken human bodies and made them into a floor mural. There was dust everywhere, covering every surface at least an inch thick. And underneath the abstract coverage of the ashen substance, the girls could see the entwined shapes of human bodies contorted into horrific gestures before their expiration.

Debora stepped back, bumping against Gwen. She, meanwhile, felt an incredible sense of déjà vu.

The dust—that feeling of death and decay; it felt as though she had seen it all before.

"Those people… they're all dead." Debora stated the obvious. Gwen had to remind herself that unlike herself, this was Debora's first time seeing victims of arcane murder. Comparatively, not only had she seen dead bodies, but she had also been responsible for them.

Gwen wanted to push past, but Debora clung on to her arm. "They're dead, Gwen! They're dead!"

"Shhh. It's alright, Debbie. Let me through. I need to check something."

Debora turned to look at her with an expression of disbelief. "Surely you're not going to touch them?!"

"I may need to touch them, yes."

"Gwen, no! You can't!"

Gwen gave her companion's arm a tight squeeze. Debora wordlessly stepped aside.

Gwen knelt to take a better gander at the human forms encased in the fossilised powder. She carefully brushed her fingers across the face of one of the figures. Where the tips of her fingers touched, the caked dust felt apart to reveal a woman that looked as though she had aged innumerably in mere seconds. Her cheeks were sallow and drained, her wispy hair falling from her loose scalp in clumps.

Negative Energy Drain—Gwen's heart sank. She had not only seen this power before, but she had also experienced it. It was power drawn from the Elemental Plane of Dust. Her mind raced. Her Master had stated that it was exceedingly rare for Mages to awaken to anything related to Negative Energy. The powers that be did not gift the Affinity of death to beings that still flowed with life.

Could it be Edgar? Her mind turned. Was Edgar there? Or was this the work of someone else?

Gwen felt her breath quicken as she rose from her investigation of the body. Just the thought of facing her assailant again gave her goosebumps. He had been the first man Gwen had wounded fatally with her spells. She could still see his twisted, malignant face contorted with hatred and malice as his Contingency Ring sent him to safety. That man had been a Mind Mage, and he had gotten deeper into her head than any other being in this world. He had touched her, not just with depredation of her body, but with a violation of her soul. He had seen what lay within her Astral body, and in the deepest recesses of her mind, her true self.

"Gwen? Gwen!" Debora was rocking her shoulder.

"I am alright," Gwen said, realising that she was sweating all over.

"Let's get out of here," Debora requested with a quavering voice.

"We need to go a little deeper." She wanted to know if Edgar was indeed there. If so, she'd have her Familiars ready for him. This time, she would show him a thing or two about Negative Energy.

Debora paused, unwilling to descend.

"Debs…" Gwen was about to say that Debora could stay up to while she went down with Ariel and Caliban, but her friend spoke first.

"No, I'll come with," Debora affirmed weakly. "I'll take point."

Gwen nodded. She would prefer not going alone. "Before you make that call, I need to tell you something."

Debora blinked.

"I suspect that Edgar might be involved in this somehow."

The girl's expression paled.

"Yes, THAT Edgar."

Debora's hands moved over her abdomen. Edgar had drained her too, made incisions here and there, bleeding her dry to keep her weak when he'd captured them. The Dust Devil, the sensation of being invaded, it was all very fresh indeed.

"I don't blame you, Debs, if you want to stay up here," Gwen said carefully, watching her friend's lips tremble. How could she blame Debora if her friend was unable to face one of their most traumatic moments? For all Debora's bluster, the girl was just sixteen; a child in Gwen's eyes. How could she ask a child to accompany her into danger?

"I'll go," Debora announced firmly. Below her obdurate eyes, she was white-knuckled and shivering.

Gwen nodded. "One moment." She produced her phone and again dialled Surya. "Opa? It's Gwen. We're at the station."

Ding! This time, the Message connected.

"Gwen? Good, are you safe? What did you find?"

Gwen briskly explained that they had found desiccated corpses drained of all vitality, that she suspected the culprit of the Serpent incident.

"You should leave right now!" Surya's voice cracked like a whip. "Fool girls! You're just students! Just go and get Rhodes and get back here this instant!"

"No, Grandfather." Gwen's voice was stern and determined. "I need to make sure that Edgar was here. I need to face him. I can do it, Grandfather. I have Ariel and Caliban with me, as well as Debora."

Surya growled."Then promise me that you will be careful," he said finally. "Run if you have to. I'll get Rhodes to bring the wagon around."

Gwen turned to Debora. "Let's go."

Her friend double-checked her buffs, then inclined her chin affirmatively.

The duo proceeded past the atrium and its display of corpses, making for the pit. Down a spiral staircase, the central portion of the station descended deep into the Core.

With one hand on the rails, the girls descended.

"Why is this place so… empty?" Debora's voice quivered.

As high school students, they had no idea what a Shielding Station's pit was supposed to look like, but even they knew that something was amiss. The textbooks showed that a relay was supposed to have an array of Creature Cores maintained by Abjurers. Together, they fed abjuring mana into the Large Shielding Resonator. The resonator itself was supposed to be a colossal crystal the size of an automobile. Its resonation of wavelength frequencies was what created the invisible shielding between stations that repelled Magical Creatures by attacking their Mana Cores.

Yet, at the bottom, they were gazing towards precisely nothing—where the giant crystal was supposed to be, there was only emptiness.

"Where did it go?" Debora said.

Gwen had nothing to say. A crystal of that size weighed at least a ton. Moving it by hand was impossible. Someone would have to first remove the Core from its mooring by overcoming its protective warding, then store it within an extra-large Storage Ring. As the owner of a medium-sized ring, she knew how much effort it took to stow items of a particular size and volume. The sheer amount of mana required to place an object of that size and mass into storage was mind-boggling.

Could she overcome the protective kill Glyphs etched into the moorings? Not without a death wish. Could she or Debora stow an object of such size and density? Not without knocking themselves out like a light.

If so, could they defeat whoever had been down here? Gwen was no longer so sure. "Maybe it's best if we return," she announced quietly.

"Agreed." Debora was more than happy to comply.

They carefully ascended. The way up was an exercise compared to the ease of descent, ensuring that both girls were sweat-drenched and half-choked by the dusty air. Finally, huffing and puffing, they arrived back at the atrium.

"Er… Gwen?" Debora shivered. "Where are the corpses?"

Where the bodies had been, there were now three trails in the dust.

"Shit," Gwen chewed her lip. The Shielding Crystal was gone, which meant that there was nothing there to prevent wayward Spirits and other Magical Creatures from filtering into the Safe Zones. "Ariel! Caliban!"

Her Familiar duo materialised behind the girls, taking up the flank and rear.

"Shaa!"

"Ee! Ee!"

Gwen wanted to activate her detection spells, but Debora was right there beside her. It wasn't time yet to let her friend know.

"EE!" Ariel hissed at a particular section of the atrium.

Gwen conjured her Dancing Lights and sent them toward the dim corridor.

There were three humanoid figures. Three desiccated figures, each hunched over, making scraping sounds.

"What the hell is that?" Debora mouthed nervously. "Weren't they dead?"

"Now they're Undead." Gwen felt her scalp crawl.

The trio turned to regard the girls, their eyes smouldering like the coals of a cold blue fire. The corpses held chipped stones that looked like daggers. Gwen's mind scanned through her Monster Manual classes. Considering the stone weapon and the glowing eyes, she had a rough idea of what they now faced.

"Malingee," she announced. "Possessed bodies."

A local threat, Malingee were nocturnal Spirits that possessed the bodies of the dead. They were especially attracted to the corpses of victims who’d died a violent death.

"SKAAARRK!" the creatures howled at the girls, their high-pitched half-scream horrible to hear. The girls were momentarily stunned as the monsters crouched, launching themselves like bolts from a ballista.

"Debbie!" Gwen screeched, forcing her body to move. Ariel instantly grew to combat form and let loose a blast of needles, pinning one creature to the floor. Caliban, likewise, took its pound of flesh from Gwen before launching a barbed tongue that pierced another corpse, pinning it to the wall.

"Sand Wall!" Debora recovered just in time.

The remaining creature leapt into the air, only to be met with Debora's Wall of Sand, trapping it within its tightly packed particles. It was the boon of having a Spirit operate one's spells independently; one that demonstrated the blessing of a cooperative Spirit.

The duo watched as the corpses writhed. Caliban seemed to have no interest in consuming the Negative Energy creatures.

"Lightning Bolt!" Gwen incanted the signature Evocation spell, watching her two targets blaze blue and white before the malevolent Spirits perished. Her Master had once told her that lightning was exceptionally proficient against Undead creatures.

Debora seemed less sure of what to do with her target. Certainly, it would not do to punch or kick a raving cadaver.

"Debbie, hold it down. I'll finish it."

"No, I'll do it."

The sand wall tightened. There was a sound of crushing bone, then a wail escaped from the creature, ringing their ears.

As quickly as it began, their fight was over.

"Lord Almighty." Debora breathed out, her eyes full of questions. "Goodness, that was intense."

"Good work, Debbie."

Their eyes met. Debora seemed to regain some measure of herself. "Yeah. Wow. We did it. Just you and me."

"Yep. Let's get out of here first. Ariel! Caliban!" Her Familiars returned.

They made their way past the gate, where an anxious Rhodes awaited them. "Ready to go? Surya seemed rather insistent that youse be back in town." He regarded the half-open doors of the Shielding Station nervously. "Were things alright back there? There was a hell of a firework display from what I could see."

"Yeah, we've had enough, I think."

Rhodes had little to say as they made the four-hour drive back to town.

Thanks to Caliban, Gwen was exhausted, opting to take a long nap at the back of the wagon. Debora sat beside her, leaning against her shoulder so that propped by one another, they dozed off to sleep.

When they finally arrived in town, Rhodes took the girls to luncheon. It was almost early afternoon by then, and the long drive had depleted their energy. Gwen groggily wandered through the cafeteria and picked up a serving of fish and chips, nibbling away at the greasy lunch absentmindedly.

Seeing her exhausted state, Rhodes asked her if he should take them back to the estate. Gwen reminded him that she had promised Tako a dinner date, to which Rhodes casually mentioned that it was no big deal if she wanted to cancel.

To Rhodes' surprise, Gwen refused. "Alright, I'll get a room for the two of you." The rancher indicated the inn; a place endearingly named The Cock and Bull. There, he paid for a room so that Gwen could sleep off her fatigue. Just in case, he also felt it far safer for his wellbeing should Surya possess knowledge of this impending development, and so he called the old Magus.

"What?! A DATE?!" came the howling voice of Surya. "How dare that whelp! I'll be right there!"

Rhodes shut down his Message Device, realising with absolute certainty that he should not have called the crazy old Enchanter.

Tako dressed up in his finest clothes.

He looked a damn treat, at least according to a sniggering Tommy and his gang of jackaroo mates. He wasn't exactly sure how trustworthy the fashion advice was of a half dozen young men who didn't own a tux between the lot of them, but he had seen the men's magazines and he felt that he looked the part.

He also arrived at the pub an hour earlier than the proposed time. With his hair slicked back in the same oily colour as his leather jacket, he pulled open the door and nodded at the publican.

The publican, Robbo, an old jackaroo himself, had heard of Tako's endeavour and had seen to it personally that a romantic corner was segregated for the young man. He'd even got his missus to snip off the head of one of her prized roses, placing it in a "fine Chinese" mug on the centre of the table.

One of Tako's mates, Jacko, opted to play waiter for their dinner.

Taking a seat, Tako poured over the Outback menu:

Grilled Steak.

Grilled Fish.

Chicken schnitzel.

Chicken schnitzel parmigiana.

Spag Meatballs.

Hot Chips.

For dessert, the publican had made his wife cook up some of her prized bread and butter pudding.

The publican didn't know if his pub would survive the date, but he knew it was going to be a spectacle. The town would speak of Tako's fuck up for months, years if Tako got lucky with a Lady Mage, or died trying. All the gallery had to do was keep on asking for refills.

Gwen took a deep breath. She was ready.

Debora had fussed with her hair for the last hour, and now she was good to go. Looking in the mirror, she plucked at her dress, smoothing out the folds. She had allowed Debora to picked out the garment, a decision which Gwen now deeply regretted.

She wasn't even sure where Debora had found the dress. She had wanted to steer her friend away from their mid-morning encounter, and the date planning had proved a substantial distraction.

Then somehow, during her nap, Debora had arranged a dress, hair, and even found a pair of china-blue pumps exactly Gwen's size. The dress was a tight fit as well, almost to the inch, making her question Debora's knowledge of her figure.

As for the date itself, Gwen grew uncertain.

Even in her old world, she'd never been one for dates. A career woman, she had flings, but rarely cared for dates where the whole purpose of the engagement was the date itself. Occasionally, the Facebook feeds of her compatriots with their husbands, kids, and Golden Retrievers set her on edge, but she rarely felt depressed for long. For a single career woman, there were worse things in life than a water view house and two cats.

"Are you certain?" Gwen examined herself in the mirror.

She was wearing a long one-piece cheongsam that emphasised rather fictitiously her curves, thanks to Debora's copious application of bra padding. The silk dress also possessed a long slit that ran up her thighs, suggestively exposing them as she moved.

"I love it!" Debora assured her. "He's Chinese, after all."

"Takahashi is a Japanese name," Gwen corrected her friend, but Debora would have none of it.

"Close enough," her untravelled friend advised expertly. "You look so lovely, Gwen. I could just eat you up."

"Thanks?" Gwen replied. The dress was a little too liberal for her tastes.

Debora led her to the door, then slapped her on the bottom, making her yelp. From the second story, Gwen could see that Tako was waiting below.

"Go get ’im!" Debora's face was full of mischief.

Gwen left the motel room, her thin heels striding towards the edge of the bannister rails. She looked down. Fifty expectant faces gazed up at her, their shit-eating grins split from ear to ear.

"Goddamn it." Gwen gulped, her chest suddenly in pain. "Debbie…"

Chapter six

Rich Girls and Poor Boys

Tako, AKA Takahashi, stewed in a pool of his sweat.

First of all, he had not expected such a thick flock of stickybeaks to be present at his date with Gwen. A dozen folks he could anticipate—his mates, for example—but now the whole bloody town had shown up.

Secondly, his mate Jacko who was also his waiter, had suddenly taken ill, citing that he had a pressing need to go to the local pool and drop off some kids.

Thirdly, the product in his hair was already liquifying. The stifling Outback heat had been made insufferable by the breathing of fifty-odd individuals crammed into a pub meant for no more than three dozen full-grown men and women, and that's discounting the gawkers sitting outside.

And yet, he couldn't possibly leave. Not unless he had a death wish. His only solace was his date was a beautiful sorceress with a beautiful face, striking green eyes, a waspish waist, and—

The pub fell silent.

Takahashi peered up to see the object of his affection descending from the second floor, one hand gingerly placed upon the railing. At the sight of such loveliness, his mind turned blank, all thoughts fleeing with the rest of his wits.

The girl made her way toward him like a dream, her white legs appearing and disappearing in-between the folds of her dress. Takahashi could barely breathe.

Gwen's shoulder-length hair had been piled up, twisted into a voluminous bun behind her head, leaving a few loose strands to draw attention to her slender neck. Her Chinese dress was itself a form-fitting one-piece that straddled her shoulders, tapering skin-tight around her waist and her bosoms.

Unsteadily, she descended, stalking carefully, riding on a pair of high and elfin pumps. When Gwen had arrived at the bottom floor, she was the tallest person in the pub. Like a graceful swan, his date floated amongst chuckling stickybeaks until she arrived at his table.

Tako held his breath, unsure of what to say that would make him appear any less of a love-smitten fool. "H-hello," he mouthed with great desperation, immediately regretting saying something so mundane. "You look lovely. Lovely. Just lovely."

"It's good to see you too, Takahashi." The girl leaned in, lending him a cheek to peck. Tako tried to meet her halfway, but she was a giantess and he felt like a Halfling. She would have to lean down to kiss him, giving the scene a far more comical air, like a young mother kissing a child.

Instead, she offered him a hand, one which Tako stared at with bewilderment.

"You look very handsome yourself, Takahashi." The girl withdrew herself.

"Thank you." Tako swallowed, feeling as though his world was burning down around him. “Please sit.”

Gwen sat, a little disappointed that Tako had failed every engagement other than pulling out her chair. Once her buttocks touched the slightly oily stool, she noted with mild distress that the publican's seats were wooden and uncomfortable. Furthermore, the unfortunately high-riding nature of Debora's dress made her feel unnecessarily exposed.

Dismayed, she regarded her date and noted that he had a jacket which should do the trick. She could place it on her legs, covering the side slits so that she wouldn't accidentally moon the crowd.

"Takahashi," Gwen met the young man's swelling eyes, "could I borrow your jacket?"

Tako immediately stripped off his jacket, pulling it over his head in the manner of stockmen removing their dusty garbs. When he handed it to Gwen, it was glistening with moisture.

Gwen bore it with grace and placed the jacket over her legs, feeling the clamminess resting against her exposed skin. Tako didn't seem to know what else to do with himself, and so he sat as well.

"How has your evening been?"

"Good."

"Have you recovered from the land shark?"

"Yep."

"Are you feeling alright?"

"Yeah."

The boy wasn't much of a conversationist either. Gwen scanned her memory for knowledge of the Outback, finding that neither of her lives had any interest in sheep shearing, cattle droving or possessed knowledge of bush yarns.

They sat awkwardly for a minute until the publican sent out his missus to break the tension.

"What'll ya have, love?" Shiela asked, creaking the floorboard with every step.

"What do you have, ma'am?" Gwen inquired politely.

"The schnitzel here is excellent," Tako added quickly. "Shiela is the best cook for miles around."

"Thanks, sweetie." The publican's wife winked at the jackaroo.

Gwen felt her stomach contract. A good schnitzel was just the ticket. For the whole afternoon, she had been play-acting as her friend's life-sized Barbie Gwen. Accessories purchased separately.

"Oi! Tako!"

The publican, Bill, disrupted her contemplation.

"Here," the big man declared expansively, putting down four ice-cold longnecks before winking at Tako. "On the house!"

Gwen returned a polite smile. She wasn't old enough to drink, but she could sure as hell down a schooner or two.

"I'll have the schnitzel," she said to the publican's wife, who beamed at her in turn. "Extra-large."

"I'll have the steak." Tako exhaled with relief.

"So," Tako appeared to have finally wrangled his brain, "what's life like in the city?"

Gwen eyed the beers and their ice-cold beads longingly. "Busy, really busy," she replied. "I live with my friends in the dorm."

"Oh?" Tako finally caught on. "What's it like where you live? Fancy houses and green lawns?"

"Ha! We live pretty modestly." Gwen laughed. "I shared a room with my other friends Yue and Elvia; we're in a team together."

"That sounds awesome. Do you have a name for your team?"

"Not yet, but we'll probably need one for the Inter-High later next year."

"Ah." Tako nodded. "That's the fancy high school competition, right? They show it on the Vid-cast sometimes."

Abruptly, Tako's face took on an ashen pallor. Perspiring profusely, the boy opened and closed his mouth like a mudskipper.

"Is something wrong?" Gwen asked carefully. Had she said something to offend him? That was impossible; they were just talking about her high-school Spellcraft team. Tako appeared as though he'd been Soul Drained by a Necromancer.

Suddenly, Gwen realised why Tako was now catatonic. The poor sod had asked her out on a whim, lacking the knowledge that Gwen and Debora were still in high school. The misunderstanding was understandable. Certainly, Debora was more mature than any high schooler she had never known, and she never saw herself as a real high schooler. Gwen had simply assumed that since Tako had asked her out with so much gusto, the young man should have known.

"Takahashi, did you not know I am a senior-high student?"

The young man looked like he was about to melt like cattle fat on a hot tin. His face had the texture of wax.

"Tako," Gwen lowered her voice, "can you hear me?"

“Erhh-HNNG!" Came the sound of a displeased grunt. A very familiar grunt that Gwen would recognise anywhere.

She turned in her seat and saw her opa sitting in a dark corner on the second level, flanked by Tess and Mel, who were grinning widely and waving at her. Surya had seated himself strategically so that he hadn’t been visible when she had exited the room but was now painfully visible once he made his presence known.

FUCK.

It was Gwen's turn to break into a cold sweat. How embarrassing, how infuriating it was that her opa was watching her coo at some young man. Not only that, here sat a poor sob who had been so enamoured in his fantasies that he didn't even consider the age of the girl he was asking out.

"Gwen," Takahashi gulped, "I don't feel so good."

Gwen felt such compassion for the poor jackaroo. It was now clear to her that the world had conspired against him. The town was here to watch Tako pull a mickey; his mates were out to have a lark, and Debs had probably known all along. That was why she had gotten her this ridiculous dress. That was why her friend had been grinning like an idiot. "I am sorry, Takahashi," Gwen said, leaning over and offering a hand of comfort.

Tako stared at her hand with an expression of horror. He didn't dare take it. Not with the town watching like a pack of hungry dingoes. He tried to move, almost sliding off his chair for the lack of strength in his legs. Gwen watched Tako's suffering. Wordlessly she returned his soaked jacket.

"Miss Mage," he said. "May I… may I go?"

Gwen nodded.

The entire pub watched as Tako beat his retreat, some shaking their heads, others laughing and exchanging a few notes under the table.

You bastards! Gwen fumed. You were betting on whether Tako would disgrace himself! Now, she sat alone, feeling more embarrassed and miserable by the minute, all the more thanks to her pointlessly revealing attire.

Her opa was smugly watching down from above, enjoying the show. For a second, Gwen wondered if she should throw a tantrum. A single command from her opa could probably clear the pub, no question asked.

She felt her stomach protest. She was still famished; she wanted her schnitzel. She was ready to hammer the whole thing down just to feel better.

"What a shame." Debora joined her at the table. "All alone, sweetie? Can a girl join you?"

"That was needlessly cruel."

Debora pulled put a chair and made herself comfortable, her eyes licking her friend all over. "What would make you think that?" She grinned mischievously.

The publican returned with two plates, one with a steak swimming in pepper gravy and the other with a crumbed schnitzel that hung over the side of the plate, steaming famously.

"Oh no, Tako didn't make it past ten minutes!" He groaned. "So much for the beer."

"What does that mean?" Gwen inquired.

"It's nothing, miss." The publican placed the food. "I had fifty riding on the fact that you'd at least finish your meal before Tako left."

Gwen felt her jaw muscles tighten. Was there anyone who wasn't in on the whole fiasco?

Bill, the publican, audibly sighed. "The missus made some pudding for ya," he added sadly. "I'll bring it out later."

"Thanks, Bill," Debora smiled at the old man brightly, watching him blush. She dug into Tako's steak, twirling a bloody slice in the gravy before placing it in her mouth. "Mmm… medium rare, perfect."

Gwen cut into her schnitzel and crammed a greasy fork-full into her mouth. Swallowing, she snatched one of the open bottles of beer and took a swig. The malt was cold and refreshing; a perfect complement to the salty, fatty breadcrumbs.

Debora raised a beer. "To us," she declared.

"To us," Gwen grumbled defeatedly, tapping Debora's bottle. With a long pull, she chugged the rest of the tall neck.

Gwen returned to the estate the next morning. She had wanted a heart-to-heart with Takahashi, but the young man had taken on a long-ranging assignment droving cattle for the next week or so.

Debora had laughed when she received the news, asking Gwen if she had a habit of driving men into the Wildlands.

"What were you thinking?" Tess asked incredulously. "That boy would be in more trouble than he can shake a stick at if…"

"If?"

"Adult things happened."

"Well, it didn't," Gwen sulked. "But come on, you're not telling me Mages and NoMs don't associate at all, are you?"

"Not past high school, not at all," Mel interjected. "What would be the point? Where would such a romance go?"

"I don't know, for love, maybe?" Gwen said, then regretting retorting at all. Hearing herself, she felt stupid.

Her opa's Apprentices broke into laughter. "Oh, Gwen, honey! You're so precious."

"Not to sound like a prude, Gwen," Tess said seriously, "but girls with talents like yours don't marry poor Mages with a single School of Magic. An NoM? You'd be a fool."

Gwen felt Tess' advice resonate uncomfortably. "Rich girls don't marry poor boys, Jay Gatsby. Haven't you heard?" she muttered silently to herself. Certain fallacies of human societies, or so it seemed, were consistent across both space and time.

The next day, Debora left for an errand. The acquisition of a mid-tier elemental Spirit meant that she had to be registered by the Tower. As a low-tier Transmuter, it was highly unusual for a student to possess so powerful a Sprite.

The registration was a necessity, for though it was impossible to rob a Mage of their Spirit, it was possible to murder the owner so that a Conjurer could force the Spirit into a suitable Core, hoping that the Elemental chose survival over oblivion. Registering it meant that should such an incident occur, the entire Oceanic Magedom would come down on the offender like the proverbial Mjölnir.

When she informed Henry of her decision, her Master commended her choice rather than berate her naivety.

"You will tread a difficult path," Henry had intoned with great gentleness. "One that could use more allies. Debora is a good girl, and with this, she will owe you for the rest of her life."

And with Debora gone, Gwen felt lost and lonely; she had spent the last week cheek to cheek with her friend and felt empty in her absence.

But there was training to be done and, for a whole week, Gwen worked herself to the bone.

When Debora finally returned, she spoke wide-eyed and star-struck about conversing with Gwen's Master. She had also met Magister Walken, another one of the Ten. Furthermore, several Maguses had inquired about taking her on as an Apprentice.

Additionally, Gwen's Master had given her Spirit the moniker of 'Sabulo', which meant Sand in the old tongue, making her its official owner.

Winningly, Debora showed off her new ID card:

Debora Jones

S.I.D: 0043544

Transmuter Tier: 3

Elemental Affinity: Earth (3 + 2)

Elemental Spirit—Sabulo

She was now as talented as Yue had been, if not more; a prospect that made Gwen a little antsy for her progress. Yue was still on her mysterious training journey with Alesia. How would she react if she returned from an Orange Zone after two months of survival only to find that her old rival had superseded her? Would she spontaneously combust?

Nonetheless, with Debora returned to the fold, her halcyon days resumed. Life returned to its old routine, with group training, individual training, physical training, mana exercises and hours of meditation.

Midway, Debora's parents had come to visit, bowing and scraping to Surya and taking Gwen's hand with tears in their eyes, thanking her for changing their daughter's life. Gwen wasn't sure what her friend had told her folks but was nevertheless embarrassed by their supplication.

And so, the girls' December ticked down, blending into one long stretch, until Gwen received a Message while out training in the woods.

Ding!

"I am back!"

"Evee! Oh My God! I missed you so much!" Her thrilling voice drove the birds from the trees.

"Gwennie!" Elvia' shrieking voice returned from the Message Device.

"When did you get back?"

"Just now. I am in Kensington. The ship took forever!"

"How was it?" Gwen asked.

"It was so boring—there was nothing to do but eat buffets. I think I put on at least two kilos."

Gwen laughed. She and Debs had lost some weight, especially after her Caliban wrangling in the woods, trying to get a feel for her vitality expenditure.

"No worries. You'll work it off in no time. When can we meet up? I am at Opa's."

"That's why I am calling you. I want to ask you if you are doing anything for Christmas."

Gwen scanned her internal itinerary. There was nothing as far as she could recall. Her opa had said that he wasn't one for the ceremonial celebrations of the Catholic church. "I should be free," she confirmed. "What's up?"

"My family's having a Christmas bash at the house, and Mum wants to invite all my friends."

"That sounds wonderful," Gwen replied. She hadn't been to a Christmas party forever. Elvia's party would be a wonderful and welcome experience.

"There are going to be dozens of strangers there, and I would love it if you could come and keep me company," Elvia's begging voice was enough to melt her heart.

"I'll be there!" Gwen agreed.

Elvia replied with a hallelujah.

"Did you manage to contact Yue?" Gwen asked.

"Nothing yet, not even with my dad's Message Device. He says Yue must be in an Orange Zone because we don't have any Divination Tower set up there."

"Alright." Gwen hoped Yue would receive the Message in time. A Christmas reunion would be just the thing. "Say, I am with Debora at the moment since she's interning under Opa. Do you mind if I bring her along?"

"D-Debbie?" Elvia gasped. However, the girl was quick to repair her faux pas. "Of course! I'd love to have Debbie along!"

Gwen laughed. Elvia was the best. "Great. See you in three days!"

"See ya."

The Message ended.

Three days until Christmas, Gwen punched the air. Elvia's manor was on the North Shore, up near Avalon. From the Hunters, she would have to leave at sunrise to arrive at noon. Likewise, she had to tell her opa that she'd spend the night at Elvia's, as returning home after midnight would be impossible.

Closing her eyes, she imagined Elvia in a white dress. Suddenly, her heart was aflutter. Christmas couldn't come soon enough.

Chapter seven

A Curious Encounter

"Debs, are you sure you can't make it?"

Gwen watched her friend's face contort with agony. She had petitioned Debora about the possibility of attending the Christmas dinner at Elvia's, but her response had been negative.

Though Gwen had not expected it, Debora's parents were devout followers of the Nazarene. For the family, Christmas Mass was a holy Rite. This year especially, Archbishop Anthony Fisher was tending the flock at St Andrew's; a rare treat for Sydney's devout.

"Are you not religious yourself?" Gwen asked.

"I am religious out of habit." Debora smiled evasively. "The family's always gone to church, so I grew up with it. Never had a choice in the matter. I even attended all the Sunday services until high school."

Which likely coincided with puberty. Gwen nodded understandingly. When high school had rolled around, Debora had started wearing shorter skirts and tighter shirts, becoming a part of the “popular” crowd, while Gwen had contested with her family drama.

For Gwen's part, her mother worshipped only the one true God called the social ladder. As for Morye, considering the number of girlfriends he cycled through, the man may as well be a disciple of Eros. As such, Gwen's religious education remained non-existent.

But that didn't mean Sydney itself was a secular city. In a world of Mermen and monsters, Faith Magic was real, even if rare and highly secretive. Officially, according to the mandatory scripture classes at school, all the major religions were established by ancient Magi whose achievements may as well be divine miracles. Gwen, however, had never met a religious individual. Sydney's faithful, split between Catholics, Protestants, the Church of England and the Pentecostals, usually stuck to their wealthier suburbs.

As for the Tower itself, modern Spellcraft perceived the old religions with ambivalent scepticism. After all, the social cost of challenging well-established orthodoxies was measurable. Historically though, the church, the state, and the Mageocracy had enjoyed matrimony for almost two centuries. To its faithful, the church taught that the Wild Lands were the devil's preserve, while the cities of man were the candles in the darkness. Some denominations even taught that Mages were a part of God's ineffable plan and that those who Awakened were the anointed.

"Sorry," Debora finished sulkily. "I've been a brat for the last few years, and still my mum's been good to me. Faith or not, I have to go and pray with them."

"That's fine, Debs, I'll eat enough for the both of us!"

"Arrrgh! You’d better not lose your figure!" Debora teased. "Man, I am going to miss you so much!" She moaned.

"I'll miss you too, Debs," Gwen said earnestly. She meant it too; after a whole summer spent cheek to cheek, the two girls were as close as two kookaburras in an old gumtree. "Stay safe."

Debora swung herself from Gwen's bed. Her friend's eyes twinkled before she pouted in an exaggerated, sultry manner. "One for the road?" she whispered winsomely, indicating a finger to her lips.

Gwen leaned in… then kissed Debora on the forehead. "Get going, Debs! I have to get up at sunrise tomorrow, Avalon is six hours away from Pokolbin."

She reached the door with a sigh. "See you at school."

"Have a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year."

"You too, Gwen."

The door closed.

Gwen laid out her outfit. She’d picked a high-waisted skirt, a white sleeveless blouse and a pair of ankle-strap heels. She also double-checked her transit card and her student ID.

Gwen Song

SID: 0043598

Evoker: 3

Elemental Affinity: Quasi Elemental—Lightning (3)

Her temporary ID displayed an already impressive statistic for a girl of sixteen. For the next year, she would train for a future of fame, fortune and influence. Such was the pie in the sky her Master drew.

It was an admirable Path for a Mage of her talent, yet at the same time, it was a future that filled her with gut-wrenching anxiety. Becoming a Magister or a Tower Master, holding tens of thousands of lives, wasn't at all like running a consultancy. Real people, full of flesh and blood, could have their lives enriched or diminished at her whim. Was that a responsibility she was willing to bear?

Gwen pulled her t-shirt over her head, stepping out of her sleeping shorts.

The Gwen of sixteen didn't have an answer for that. The Gwen of thirty was likewise ignorant.

Her only recourse was to keep on treading and keep her head above the murky water.

The next morning, Tess drove Gwen out to the station, where she took the first train into the city. From Central, she took a cab to reach Avalon.

Elvia's haunt was one of the wealthier regions of the Sydney Frontier, situated deep within a stretch of coastal water views known as the Northern Beaches. To Gwen's knowledge, the area was exclusively for Mages, especially those closely associated with the Mageocracy. Their peninsular, Avalon Beach, was a headland that extended out to one of the principal Shield Towers at the northern reaches of the city—Barrenjoey Station.

The driver, a friendly feller in a turban, was talkative and friendly, complimenting Gwen's attire before speaking out about the woes of working on public holiday. Overfamiliarly, the driver explained that he had two daughters who were turning seven and ten and spoke at length about his anxieties regarding their Awakening.

"You are so lucky." The man grew giddy when Gwen stated that she'd come from an ordinary family and that she had no idea why she was a Lightning Mage. "You must have done something great in your past life." He grinned from ear to ear. "The way of karma, huh?”

When the taxi finally arrived at Elvia's address, Gwen was mightily impressed. Though not as absurdly elaborate as Uncle Kwan's Kirribilli manor, Elvia's home was far more modern. From the hill, the Lindholm's multi-storey home cascaded for seven levels down to its private jetty.

As Gwen was fashionably late, the parking area was already inundated with expensive-looking cars.

"Happy holidays!" The NoM driver waved to her before pulling out carefully from the driveway.

Alone for the moment, Gwen straightened herself and corrected her attire. She had worn her hair au naturel to complemented her pale skin and striking eyes. In the reflection, she could see that her mother's gifted heels exaggerated her attire, lifting her calves and giving her long legs shape and definition.

"Phew!" Exhaling, Gwen loosened her arms, then strode towards the door. She pressed the doorbell and, a jingle later, it opened to reveal a youthful blonde woman with bright blue eyes, maybe in her early twenties.

"Oh my," the woman exclaimed. "You must be Gwen!"

"Hello." The two shook hands. "I am Gwen Song, and you must be?"

"I am Elvia's mother, Elaina."

Gwen felt genuine shock and surprise. "Miss Lindholm, I could have sworn you were Elvia's sister!" Her compliment was entirely serious. Elvia was sixteen! If so, when had Elaina given birth to her? How was it that the woman looked not a day over twenty.

Elaina's laughter filled the doorway. "Welcome." She beamed, revealing brilliantly white teeth that starred in their very own dental commercial. "Come in, come in. Elvia couldn't stop talking about you the entire time we were on that cruise ship."

Elaina possessed that rare genteel mannerism which some women affected effortlessly, impressing Gwen again as she entered Elvia's home.

"Elvia!" her mother called out. "Guess who's here!"

Gwen held her breath as the sound of heels musically approached. Her friend, the one and only Evee, appeared at the top of the stairs, a little breathless for the effort.

Elvia was attired in white, as Gwen had anticipated, in a one-piece garb involving both lace and frills. The girl had grown in the two months since she had seen her, with a bit more curvature to hint at an indulgent lifestyle of buffets.

"Evee!"

"Gwennie!"

The two embraced, Elvia slamming into Gwen's torso to bury her face into her chest. Gwen likewise wrapped her arms around the petite blonde girl and squeezed. Instantly, she felt complete.

"Ain't you two sweet," Elvia's mom cooed, fixing her daughter's hair. "Come on down when you're ready. Elvia can introduce you to the rest of the family."

"How have you been, Evee?"

"Gwennie, so much has happened! Uncle took me to a conference; we visited some refugee camps for NoMs; it was terrifying! How about you? Did you do anything interesting?"

"Aah…" Gwen squeezed Elvia's cheeks. "Where do I start? How about we meet and greet your family first? It's the polite thing to do. I love your dress, by the way."

"I like yours as well."

"Aww."

The duo descended the stairs.

"Have you hear from Yue at all?” Gwen asked.

"Nothing, I was so hoping she could make it today."

"Damn, that's a shame."

"Where is Yue anyway?"

"She's training with Alesia," Gwen said. "Probably kicking ass somewhere. I am sure Alesia has Yue well looked after."

They soon arrived at the second floor where a massive living room led onto a multi-level deck, interconnecting the middle and lower levels. Impressively, Yue's house even had a private jetty. There were already people everywhere—a good thirty to forty adults and a dozen children. Despite the crowd, however, the unusual design of the house negated the limitations of space.

"There she is!" Elaina raised a glass to toast.

The attention of the room turned to Elvia and herself, a few individuals raising their glasses, while others inclined their heads, then returned to their conversations. As one, Elvia's family moved from their respective circles towards them.

Of the group, Gwen recognised only Elvia's uncle, Harold; a senior Medical Mage who had been instructing her friend.

Elvia's father introduced himself as Frederik Lindholm, the patriarch of their little Clan. Handshakes soon exchanged, but when she arrived at a young man with the classic Lindholm blue eyes, he sneered at her. Surprised, Gwen did a double-take.

"Erik! Manners!" Elvia's father snapped.

Gwen felt Erik's eyes measure her up. Rather than interest, Erik's gaze was full of antagonism. In retaliation, Gwen gave the young man the biggest, brightest smile she could muster.

Like Elvia, Erik was good-looking lad, with delicate features and deeply set eyes. His appearance, however, was decisively boyish. Gwen grinned, thinking that Elvia could have made a pretty cute bloke.

"My apologies." Erik bowed, a hand resting against his heart. "I am merely awed at the austere presence of my sister's idol, the Lightning Evoker, Gwen Song."

Frederike looked as though he wanted to smack Erik, but Elaina gave the young people a disarming smile then directed Elvia's father away.

"It's nice to meet you too," Gwen replied, her voice somewhat wary of this antagonising development. "We haven't met before, have we?"

"No," Erik confessed, "but I have heard many nice things about you already from my friends."

"Oh?" Gwen was even more puzzled now. She certainly had no friend beyond her immediate circle.

"Patrick and Derek," Erik said offhandedly.

"Who?" Gwen was genuinely confused.

"Patrick and Derek."

Gwen shrugged. Who the hell were Patrick and Derek?

"Patrick and Derek," Erik repeated, sensing her indifference, the boy's face grew flustered. "They met you at a party in Kirribilli."

Gwen wracked her memory. She recalled that when she had gone to Uncle Kwan's, some of the boys had tried to get a little handsy. She couldn't remember their names though; she had been trying to concentrate on not obliterating them.

"He means Dickhead and Emo."

A voice called out from behind. From the ease by which the profanities flowed, Gwen knew the source to be her cousin.

"Richard!" She spun. Behind her stood a bespectacled young man looking handsome in semi-formal, his Oxfords polished to perfection.

"Cousin," Richard said blankly without any particular emotion, but Gwen sensed that he was happy to see her. They hugged and exchanged cheeks. Richard's embrace was a little wooden, but it felt good, like slotting her body into a groove.

"You smell nice," he remarked. He looked over at the red-faced Erik, then pointed to his cheek, where Gwen had just kissed him. "Are you jealous, Junior Erik? Gwen did not give you a loving peck on the cheek, did she?"

"What!" Erik's face was the hue of pork liver. "What are you even talking about, Richard? What does that have to do with anything?"

Richard's eyes twinkled, his glasses dangerously refracting the midday sun.

"Gwen, do note that Erik is lashing out because he is physically attracted to you," Richard observed dryly. "Hormonal attraction can often be confused with hostility."

Elvia reddened too, but unlike Erik, she was suppressing her uncontrollable laughter.

Gwen turned to Erik and lifted the hem of her skirt, performing a curtsey that showed off her long and shapely white legs. "Is that true, Erik?" she teased. "Do you like me?"

"No!" Erik blustered. "Elvia… she… shit! Why the hell am I even explaining this! Richard! Stop it!"

At Erik's expense, the trio burst into hyena-like laughter.

"Gwen, there's something on your clothes." Oddly, Richard reached out and brushed at the fabric of her dress, picking what was probably lint from a shirt sleeve. "You'll probably have to show him a thing or two later," her cousin continued, rubbing his thumb and forefinger together. "According to the rumours, you shamed my juniors from Prince's."

He then turned to Elvia, apparently now satisfied that Gwen's dress was spotless. "Not to mention that, according to Elvia here, you'd kick his ass in a second. That's quite the boast, coming from Blackwattle Bay."

Gwen glared at Elvia, who looked away guiltily. "Evee, is this true? Have you been tongue wagging?"

"Erik was mocking my school, our school!" Elvia huffed.

Gwen flicked her forehead delicately. "Evee the troublemaker," she admonished her friend mirthfully before turning to Richard. "So how come you're here?"

He was watching Erik, who had joined his other friends from Prince's. They gave Gwen's group the stink eye. "I was invited by your friend here. She had heard about me from her brother."

Elvia beamed.

"She also told me that I was the only person in the family you could stomach."

Elvia wilted.

"And also that my father was a fat bastard. Surely Tali's alright? She's cordial, as far as I know." Richard framed his question in a manner that seemed entirely academic.

"Yes, Aunt Tali is a fine lady," Gwen agreed. "It's more Uncle Kwan who scares me."

"Kwan's just doing what he thinks is best, regardless of whether its best for you or me," Richard observed drily. She sensed in his voice a certain sense of detachment as he mentioned his parents. "But I digress. Do enjoy the party, cousin."

"Thanks, Richard. I think I will," Gwen turned to her flaxen-haired companion. "Evee? Show me around the house? I want to see your room."

"Sure." Elvia slipped an arm into Gwen's elbow. "Come on!”

Richard accosted his juniors from Prince's.

"Senior."

"Senior."

"Prefect Huang.” The trio replied.

All animosity aside, the boys were perfectly mannered when dealing with their senior. As a school, Prince's was very particular about mannerisms.

"Gentlemen." Richard inclined his head towards them, returning their greeting. He regarded Elvia's brother, whose face immediately grew several shades redder. "What is with that horrible performance, Erik?"

The other two took a step away from him.

"You embarrassed me," Erik accused Richard sulkily.

"You embarrassed yourself." Richard's tone contained neither hostility or mockery.

Erik looked downcast. It was his house; he ought to be able to tell Richard to buzz off. However, he didn't dare. Richard belonged to the four Houses as a Prefect. Meanwhile, he was just a junior Abjurer. Speaking unkindly to Richard would undermine his standing within the school's hierarchy.

"Are you going to take it?" Gwen's cousin demanded without warning.

The boys looked up at their senior incredulously. What was Richard up to now?

"The pride of Prince's College had been trodden on, yet you fled like a little bitch. Then, instead of thinking about how to make things right, you all sit here and lick each other's wounds like milksops."

"You want us to show up your cousin?" Erik inquired carefully. "You don't mind if we embarrass her?"

"You think you can embarrass Gwen?" Richard scoffed. "You'd be lucky she doesn't kick your ass. Did you think Elvia was lying to you?"

At the mention of his older sister's words, Erik's blood was up.

"Senior Huang, are sure about this?" one of the other boys intervened. Lightning was rare, but it wasn't Void Magic. Prince's had students proficient with Quasi-Elements as well, and they were hardly indomitable.

"Erik, it's your party, your call, bro." The other, a dark-haired youth, pushed Elvia's brother with a hint of smugness. "It doesn't have to be serious. We can drop her in the harbour, make a show of it. That sort of thing."

Erik tried to imagine a bedraggled Gwen pulling herself from the water, water cascading from her dress. He would like that. It would be a bonus if his haughty sister cried as well.

"I am asking you again, Senior Huang, you are not averse to our challenging your cousin?"

"Not at all. Not only that, if you do defeat Gwen, I'll personally vouch for you at the next student council election."

"Alright!" Erik gave an expression full of expectation. "Lionel, Todd, you guys game?” The other two boys nodded. "Great, I'll speak to Father. Let's see if we can duel on the jetty. I need somewhere with access to water."

Richard watched his juniors go. "Ah, to be young." The Prefect chuckled.

Within his heart, which usually remained immutable, he sensed a sudden flutter of anticipation. From the moment Gwen had walked into the room, he had sensed the familiar aura of Conjurers radiating from her body. Furthermore, Gwen had left behind the tell-tale traces of crystal residue left by feeding Familiars. Having practised Conjuration for most of his life, Richard sensed without a doubt that his conjecture had to be correct.

And if Gwen did possess a Familiar, then her talent would be monstrous beyond belief!

Chapter eight

Fix -- Show and Tell

While schemes both dangerous and devious brewed below, Gwen was busy marvelling at the fluffy decor of Elvia's pastel bedroom. The furnishing was like a catalogue's—a four-post bed, satin sheets, antique white walls and shelves full of plush toys.

Elvia sat on the edge, swinging her legs to and fro; an adorable life-sized doll. The duo had already been everywhere else in the house, greeting guests, sipping non-alcoholic cocktails and stealing canapés. Gwen was having the time of her life. In her previous incarnation, she had never had friends like Elvia and so felt a little intoxicated by the euphoria of it all.

"Why does your brother have so much curry?" Gwen borrowed an old Aussie proverb.

"Well, it’s to do with my decision to pull out of Lilith's," Elvia confessed. "I guess he feels betrayed because Lil's and P's are brother/sister schools. They do a lot of activities together, you know, socials."

"Like a boy/girl formal?" Gwen puzzlingly cocked a brow.

Elvia tilted her head puzzlingly. Sometimes Gwen said the darnedest things. "Like our Field Trip. However, theirs take place all around the world. Prince's supplies London Imperial. As such, they can access different Zones across three continents. The final trial is with schools from tier-one cities."

"Sounds rough," Gwen remarked. She had yet to meet a single Mage her age from a tier-one city.

"Yeah, but also rewarding. If the other schools like you, you just might receive a scholarship! You'll get to live in a tier-one city!"

"So how come you're not going to Lilith's?"

Elvia rolled onto the bed. "I was scared," she replied. "I was afraid that I couldn't be special like all the girls there, that I would awaken to something mundane. I went to Lilith's Preparatory School, you should know. There are people there whose whole family were Quasi-Elementalists."

"Well, you're a Positive Energy Mage, your uncle is one, is your dad one? You're in good hands, right?"

Elvia shook her head. "He's an Air Diviner."

"Your brother?"

"Water Abjurer."

"Well then," Gwen tried one last time. "Your mother?"

Elvia beamed. "She's a Positive Energy Conjurer!"

"There we go!" Gwen marvelled. It was little wonder Elaina looked so radiant and so fresh. Usually, those gifted with Positive Energy seldom aged. Conversely, people like her, afflicted with Negative Energy, often skipped ageing entirely by dying young. "Well, at any rate, your family has a genealogy of Positive Energy, so…"

"I was still scared." Elvia pouted. "Who knows? What if I became something bizarre like an Earth Illusionist? I'd be just a non-elemental caster."

"Why would you think that? No one in your family is an Earthen Mage or an Illusionist."

"Erik said I was a weirdo, that I'd probably awaken as a rock."

"Ridiculous. You are an angel!" Gwen hugged her friend maternally against her bosom, soaking in some of that Positive Energy. "Say, last time, you told me you were afraid of being set up."

"There's that too." Elvia felt a little heat colouring her face. Gwen was very close. "A lot of the girls from Lilith's get married as soon as they graduate. I was afraid that Mum had that in store for me."

"Why would you think that?"

"She's an alumna and Dad's a graduate of Prince's."

"Right. Gotcha." Gwen gazed at the ceiling, where a petite chandelier scintillated. "Are they happy together?"

"Very," Elvia admitted.

"You don't want that for yourself?"

"I don't know."

"That's alright, Evee. Do you regret coming to our school?"

Elvia shook her head, spreading her flaxen tresses over the bed. "I am so happy I got to meet Yue and you." Elvia's accidental homonym caused Gwen to giggle indulgently. The healer was so adorable that she just had to pinch Elvia's rosy cheeks.

"I am getting all kinds of thirsty." She lifted herself from Elvia's bed. "Shall we head down?"

"Sure," Elvia said quietly, still rubbing her forehead where Gwen had kissed her.

When they returned to the party, two young Mages were duelling on the jetty. Both contestants, a young man and a girl, were in their swimmers. The young bloke was an Earthen Evoker. Currently, he was throwing tier two Obsidian Spears straight at the frail-looking lass. The girl appeared to be an Air Transmuter and flitted about here and there, dodging the spears. The exchange went on for several minutes until the dramatic speed difference between them grew apparent. The Evoker had his shield chipped away until the transparent underlayer of his mana shield became visible.

In his desperation, the Evoker switched to the tier one Stone Bullet to try and conserve his mana, but the Transmuter was simply too quick. Following another spell exchange, his shield glimmered. The Transmuter grinned mischievously as the lad put up his arms in surrender. There was a thump and the young man flew off his feet, landing in the water with a spectacular splash.

A round of cheers erupted from the house. Congratulations greeted the winner and her relatives. The girl gracefully walked back along the jetty and pulled the young man from the water. Laughter resounded, after which the young man received pats of consolation.

Gwen felt immensely impressed at the sportsmanship. A friendly Mage duel. How precious!

"Evee, how often—"

"Gwen Song! We challenge you to a duel!" shouted Erik Lindholm, Elvia's peevish blonde brother.

Gwen's mind went blank. Erik wanted to duel her? The boy was a junior, and he was a Water Abjurer. Even if Erik had the talent to Awaken early, it wasn't until late puberty that Mages came into their power.

"Duel me?" Gwen did a doubletake. "I am your senior."

"Of course. You didn't think we're challenging you to a one-on-one, did you?"

"You want to gang up on me?" Gwen blustered.

"You're a legendary Lightning Elementalist, right?"

"That may be." Gwen frowned. "But three at once? A girl can only take so much. I am not as experienced as you make me out to be."

Without warning, Erik's flushed a deep carmine. "Gwen Song, do you want to duel or not? We're all tier two, so you've got a whole tier of spells ahead of us."

"Evee?" Gwen looked toward her friend for advice.

Elvia appeared equally confused. "Why do you want to duel Gwen?" her friend demanded, her blue eyes narrowing suspiciously.

"Why do you care? Didn't you say she could kick my ass?"

"I am sure she could."

"I concur." Gwen gave Elvia a thumb's up.

Erik raised his voice so that the people around him could hear. "Gwen Song of Blackwattle! We, Erik Lindholm, Lionel Zachary and Todd Smith, of Prince's College, challenge you to a duel of honour!"

Elvia's smile faded. "Erik! You can't bring Prince's into this. You'll make trouble for Gwen!"

"Wait, what's happening?" Gwen said quizzically. When it came to these superficial rituals and social codes, she may as well be a blind man riding a deaf donkey.

The rest of the crowd awaited Gwen's response. "Evee, do I accept?"

"I don't know." Elvia searched the crowd for aid.

Thankfully, Richard stepped forward. "Gwen, you should teach these boys a lesson in humility," he remarked stoically. "Win or lose, they won't bother you again. I promise you that."

Amidst the anticipation, Gwen wondered what the masters of the house thought of all this. She found Elvia's father shrugging, while Eliana made eyes at her son.

Gwen looked towards Richard again. "It's three on one, Richard. Are you sure?"

"Rip him a new one," her cousin answered with a twinkle in his eye. "Kick his ass so hard that his testes drop and Erik becomes a man."

Elvia's father choked on an olive.

Gwen met the boys' eager faces. "Fine." she clasped Erik’s hand. "Let's duel!"

Elvia looked at the jetty worriedly. "Did you bring a cossie?"

"Why?" Gwen asked. "Is Erik going to push me into the water?" She flashed her Storage Ring. "I got spare dresses, but no swimming suit, so this will have to do. Don't worry, Evee. I'll be right back.”

Below, Richard stood front and centre of the crowd while an older gentleman with the rank of Magus made himself known to the duellists.

"First to shield break," the Magus announced solemnly. "Minimise damage to the surroundings. You break it, you pay for it."

With long strides, Gwen marched to the end of the jetty. On either side, enormous pillars of ancient, salt-soaked wood anchored the pontoon in place, sloshing as the bean-green waters below beckoned their next victim. Gingerly, Gwen knelt over and removed her heels, her dark hair cascading over her shoulders as she unclipped each shoe.

Richard's glasses gleamed. He could see that Gwen possessed at minimum a small Storage Ring; an uncommon item in the Frontier.

The boys from Prince's soon finished setting themselves up on the opposite side. Their Adjudicator incanted a levitation spell and floated at a safe distance.

"Ready?"

Gwen nodded.

The boys nodded.

"Commence!"

"Lightning Blast!" Gwen opened with Evocation. A torrent of hysterical electricity ionised from the air around the boys and lashed out with blue-white tentacles of pure plasma, scorching the flooring of the jetty.

"Water Shield!" Erik expanded a barrier of flowing water around him in a semi-sphere. To Richard's surprise, the shield reinforced itself by drawing water from the surrounding sea.

"Absorb Elements!" Erik added to their team's defence.

Against the boy's shield, Gwen's lightning fractured into glowing Lichtenberg figures, draining harmlessly into the bay, frying the fish feeding from the barnacles.

Richard whistled. Erik was a better Abjurer than he had initially thought.

"BLAST BOLT!" Gwen upped her intensity. With enough offensive power, all tricks melted away. "BREAK!"

Her bolt pierced Erik's barrier and blasted the two Junior Mages hiding behind the boy's shield. Gwen yelled with triumph. Unfortunately, the bodies soon faded into the aether.

"Ah." Richard nodded. "Well done. Projected Images."

Immediately, Gwen switched to the defensive. To Richard's surprise, his cousin's shield was no less potent that than of a bona fide Abjurer.

SPAK! SPAK! SPAK!

The barrier manifested just in time, three shards of ice skidded off her semi-sphere, transforming the locations where they'd struck opaque. Though Richard's juniors were novices, their volley packed quite a punch; the last of the boys was an Evoker, not to mention a Para-Elementalist.

SPAK! SPAK!

A second volley of Magic Missiles struck Gwen's shield. Richard puckered his lips. His cousin shouldn't just keep defending, as she was bound to be OoM sooner or later.

"FLASHBANG!"

An explosion of sound and light erupted above the three boys.

Richard's eyes glowed with triumph, filled with the dazzling light of his cousin's Conjuration spell.

Gwen wracked her head for something viable. She had been too reliant on Caliban and Ariel while she was out amongst the NoMs and now she was struggling with her utilitarian Schools of Magic. In particular, she struggled to manifest Detect Magic, a spell which could discern if the boys were tricking her with illusions.

For her present battle, she felt as though punching wool. Her current repertoire of Evocation such as Guiding Bolt, Lightning Blast, and Lightning Bolt wasn't helpful against opponents she couldn't brute-force. Each of her staple spells was excellent in a straight-up fight, but she lacked the utility to nail the boys.

To win, as such, she would have to play the match by ear and catch the Prince's boys on the backfoot. Therefore, forcing herself to calm, Gwen awaited the volley of Magil Missiles that would inevitably come.

SPAK! SPAK! SPAK!

The ice shattered, turning her double-glazed barrier milky white.

Instantly, she retracted her shield, clearing her field of view. Across the jetty, she saw Erik. There was a second figure hidden behind him, while the third boy hid behind his illusions.

Gwen raised her hand.

Erik pushed more mana into his shield.

"Flashbang!" Gwen incanted the Conjuration variant, over-channelling her mana into the manifestation. The unstable crystal ionised from thin air, delivering a cacophonic cargo of sound and light directly over the boys' heads.

"Arrrgh!"

"Shit!"

The flash turned Erik's barrier brilliant white, stabbing into his eyes. The young man who had been hiding behind Erik fell to this knees, holding both ears.

Meanwhile, Gwen took advantage of the fulminating distraction to cast Detect Magic.

Two down, Gwen scanned her surroundings. Erik and his mate were out of the count for now, but where was their Illusionist? Her electric-blue eyes scanned the surroundings.

Behind Erik, the Evoker was beginning to recover; realising that she had to make a call, Gwen pointed a finger towards the whimpering duo. "Lightning Bolt!"

A zigzagging bolt of plasma arced through their air. The tier III spell struck the water shield, scattering motes of water and electrifying the surface.

"ARRRGH!" Elvia's brother sounded like he was pushing his guts outside his body. His shield spluttered, but it held.

Gwen cursed. She had underestimated these elite schoolboys; they were not like the small fries from Blackwattle, nor like haphazardly trained Mages from Blackheath.

Unlike herself, the boys' foundations were built upon a life of privileged access to resource and instruction. In a one-on-one, she could smelt Erik like a nugget, but now she faced three of the little tykes.

Likewise, while she fought alone, Erik had a party. While the Abjurer solely focused on defence, she had to do both.

The air thickened.

Unbidden, Gwen felt the gathering of mana behind her. She instinctively dived.

A water blast erupted where she had stood a second prior. Were it not for her premonition, she would have copped the hit and tumbled into the water. Still, the liquid washed over her before she could erect a mana shield, drenching her diaphanous linen dress.

"Bloody oath!" Gwen swore under her breath. The seawater rode up her skirt and made her feel ashamed and embarrassed. "Alright, you asked for it." She would not show all her trump cards, but she may as well give them a show. It was the Christmas spirit after all.

The Illusionist was visible now, clearly pleased with his sneak attack. The other boys moved up, giving him support, recovering from their stunned state.

Gwen took a deep breath. "Jump!" She leapt back. It was a universally known Transmutation invocation, one that was no cause for drama or suspicion. Simultaneously, she activated the Feather Fall effect stored within her ring.

For a split-second, she hovered over the jetty.

"Ice Spines!" A spell manifested.

"Magic Missile!”

Both the Evoker and the Illusionist had recovered from their spell fatigue and now launched their renewed attacks.

A shimmering sphere enveloped Gwen. Her stolen Abjuration talent made her barriers near-instantaneous.

SPAK! SPAK!

Thump—THUMP!

Electrical sparks showered from her shield. The boys appeared aghast, unable to conceive that Gwen, an Evoker, possessed an impenetrable shield.

Gwen began her descent. "Warding Bolt!" Twin orbs appeared beside her contoured silhouette, each a menacing ball of living lightning.

"Call Lightning!" An ominous and dangerous-looking cloud formed above her head, rapidly coalescing until it blotted out the sun.

A commotion broke out from the observing crowd, fixing jubilance with shock.

Gwen's shield dissipated into the atmosphere.

"Ice—"

"Magic—"

"No!" Erik suddenly realised that Gwen's spells did not require her active casting.

CRA-CRACK!

Blasts of electricity shot from each of the globes, lashing into the young Mages. The cloud above likewise made its power known, raining down an arm-thick bolt of purple plasma.

Gwen watched as Elvia's brother grunted, somehow holding out against her semi-autonomous volleys. "Lightning Bolt!" she added to their already impressive burden.

By her third volley, Erik's Absorb Elements faded. The boys were at their limits.

Gwen fought off the spell-fatigue clawing at her guts. Thanks to Evocation, her turret spells delivered full payloads at the cost of doubling expenditure. Finally, with the last of her mana, she gestured a finger toward the heavens, then with a flourish, pointed it towards the nadir."Blast Bolt!"

The clouds above them rumbled.

Three separate bolts conjoined into one.

No amount of reinforced shielding and Absorb Elements could withstand the combined effort of Call Lightning, Warding Bolt and Blast Bolt. Before the crowd, a tidal wave of electricity washed over the trio, azure and white, violet and amethyst, crisscrossing until the boys were barely visible.

"Halt! Halt! The victor is Gwen Song!" Their Adjudicator cried out.

Gwen cut her Mana Channels.

The electricity faded.

The boys emerged looking worse for wear, their clothes smoking gently with conducted heat.

"We yield!" The Illusionist and the Evoker both raised their hands.

"Do you yield, Erik?" Gwen asked.

"I yield," Elvia's brother announced dejectedly.

Gwen exhaled.

"You got lucky," Erik grumbled.

The little twerp! Gwen gritted her teeth, feeling an ardent desire to teach the boy a lesson. When Erik added insult to injury by trying to give her a handshake as though they were equals, she instead pulled him close and planted a kiss on the cheek. As expected, the young man jumped back as though bitten by a redback, stuttering incoherently before fleeing from the jovial laughter of the crowd.

"Thanks for the duel, ma'am," the remaining Prince's boys introduced themselves. "Todd Smith, at your service."

"Likewise, ma'am." The other boy bowed. "Lionel Zachary."

"Nice to meet you both," Gwen replied. "Please, Gwen is fine."

"May we ask a question, ma'am?" Lionel maintained his tone of formality.

"Sure." Gwen smiled, though she was still mindful of her drenched attire.

"Are you… are you a Magus?"

"Ha!" Gwen snorted. "No, I am just a student."

Behind them, the crowd erupted.

"Did you see that?"

"Who had Detect Magic on?"

“She’s using Conjuration! Isn't she an Evoker?"

Among the crowd stood Elvia, her mouth half-open in disbelief. Her parents, likewise, were staring slack-jawed at Gwen.

And not too far from Elvia, Richard stood, brimming with curiosity. From the open living room, the crowd boiled over, full of questions Gwen could not address, even if she had the answers.

Chapter nine

When Shall We Three

Thankfully, Elvia’s had an ensuite in which Gwen could change out of her bedraggled clothes. She liked the ocean as much as any girl growing up within thirty minutes of Cronulla, but the distinct stink of the fish-scented sea was difficult to dismiss.

Elvia asked Gwen to leave her dirty laundry, but Gwen stowed them in her ring anyway. The soiled attire was kept in stasis anyhow, and the thought of Elvia or her mother sorting through her intimates was mortifying.

Earlier, the crowd outside had been barking mad for answers. Gwen had none to give but hoped that things worked out so long as she didn't drop a big “Void” bomb. In all honesty, having access to two Schools of Magic wasn't all that amazing. What was surprising was the age at which she’d gained access.

For the every-Mage, two Schools of Magic meant effort and tireless practice. Even her Master, Henry Kilroy, had first been a Conjurer, then a Transmuter, and finally an Evoker and so on.

For her Master, it was his ability to tap into all four Prime Elemental Planes that made him truly unique. There was Sufina too, whose life-giving and life-draining talent gifted him the moniker of "Deathless Henry".

Gingerly, she slipped on a fresh set of intimates, then a vintage polka-dot sundress she'd bought near Surya's. An NoM lady, a local dressmaker, had made the dress. She then towelled the water from her hair, using her hand to mould a one-sided fringe. The result was that she looked humble and country, but at least she was comfortable.

Elvia's eyes sparkled when Gwen emerged. "Tell me everything!" Her friend took her hand and squeezed as though she was wringing juice from an orange.

"I will, I promise," Gwen replied. "Not now, though. Maybe later? There are still guests out there. You have to do the carols, don't you?"

Elvia sulked. She loathed any form of attention, benevolent or otherwise. Still, her doting father, not to mention Gwen herself, very much looked forward to Elvia's performance.

The Lindholms weren't religious by any means, but from the limited conversation Gwen had shared with the mother, they were immensely sentimental about Europe. The original patriarch of the family had been a refugee from the Austrian-Hungarian Empire and had kept all the White Christmas traditions alive, despite their exile since the sixties.

"Don't worry, Evee. You look a treat." She couldn't help but smile. Elvia in a white dress, singing Christmas carols? Could there be anything more perfect than that?

To no one's surprise, the moment Gwen re-emerged, they were surrounded. Gwen responded to all questions with the universal answer that she was not at "liberty" to speak on pain of ex-communication from her mysterious Master.

After loudly repeating her prepared response to a dozen guests, those questions ceased. Now, they were interested in her personal life. Was she dating? Who was her mother? What about her House? And so on.

When Gwen again grew flustered, she caught Richard lingering stoically by himself at the buffet table, pondering the philosophy of which canapés he preferred. "Richard!"

He raised his glass to her.

She ran up beside him and hooked his elbow. "This is my cousin Richard, the heir apparent of my House," she announced. "He will answer all your questions."

"I will?" Richard looked at Gwen with a raised eyebrow.

"Help me out, Richard," she whispered by his ear. "I don't know how to deal with these people. I can't even understand what they're talking about."

"Fine." Richard inclined his head, then turned to the multitude. "You." He pointed to a questioner. "You first."

"Does Ms Song have a partner in mind?" The middle-aged man asked carefully.

"No, but I sure as hope you're not asking for yourself. Next!"

Gwen's face turned a bright scarlet, wondering if she had made a terrible mistake in asking Richard for help. Maybe she should stop him before he said something irreversible.

The crowd murmured excitedly.

"Who is the patriarch of the Huang Clan?" someone else asked.

"Surya Huang, my grandfather, Senior Enchanter associated with the Tower."

"The artist?" someone asked.

"The same."

"He's an Enchanter?" A voice said incredulously. "I thought he just made, er, art."

"Does Ms Song's father belong to a House?"

"No. Next!"

"What is her father's pedigree?"

"Abjurer tier IV. Next!"

The crowd appeared confused. Gwen's father was a nobody? That seemed hardly right. If she were the progenitor of her talent, it would make her less desirable then if she had a family history of curious multi-school Awakenings.

"What does Ms Song look for in a partner?" someone more interested in Gwen herself inquired.

"Magus and above. Tier five or go home. Next!"

The crowd jeered.

"Any preference in particular?"

Richard measured Gwen expertly, placing a hand over her head and another floating down her hips like car salesman marvelling over the curves of a Pininfarina model. "No shorties. You must be this tall to enter. Next!"

Gwen baulked.

Richard was doing too good a job, and now she wanted off his wild ride. Yet, the crowd was now jovial and the atmosphere had lost the seriousness it had possessed only a moment ago.

Leaving Richard to his dog and pony show, Gwen slowly backed away and joined Elvia. Thankfully, the guests were soon out of questions after another volley of Richard expertly calling out “next” like an auctioneer.

"Sorry Evee," Gwen apologised for derailing the Christmas gathering.

"I think we should blame Erik. He was the one who made this happen."

Gwen agreed but still felt apologetic.

"Miss Song."

They were joined by Frederik, Elvia's father, and an unhappy Erik, looking every inch the helpless kitten facing an impending bath.

"Erik, apologise," Frederik commanded.

"I am sorry."

"It's alright, Erik," Gwen replied sweetly. "No worries, eh?"

"Gwen." Elvia's father coughed to draw her attention. "If there's anything the family can do for you, all you have to do is ask."

Gwen felt a little taken back. "Please, Mr Lindholm, you don't have to."

"I am serious." The man remained solemn. "Please speak kindly of today's incident to your Master. The boy… he's not the best spell in the tome. I was at fault as well. When he asked for my permission, I didn't see any harm in it. That was short-sighted of me. If you need someone to blame, I would gladly shoulder the blame—"

"Mr Lindholm!" Gwen interjected. "Please, it's fine. I promise. No harm will come to Erik or Elvia or anyone in your family. We're just kids mucking around."

Frederik's expression grew considerably softer than before. "Thank you."

"It's me who should be apologising," Gwen replied earnestly.

Frederik nodded, ruffling Erik's hair and brushing a finger across Elvia's cheeks. "Take care of our guest, you two."

The kids watched their father return to their mother with the good news.

Gwen's eye met Elvia's own, and she could see the cogs turn inside her best friend's ash-blonde head. The girl was misreading the situation. "Whatever my talents, Evee, it doesn't change anything between us." She held Elvia's hand. "We're friends, and we're a team. That's not going to change, no matter who my Master may be."

Elvia's lovely blue eyes glowed with anxiety, seeing Gwen as though for the first time. Gwen guessed correctly that the girl was stunned by her father's attitude. If Gwen and Frederik were equals, then what of Elvia? What was her position in all of this?

"But—"

"No! Elvia… Evee! I am just Gwen, you know? Your friend." Gwen wondered if there was something she could do to make Elvia understand.

Erik looked downcast, likely realising that he may have screwed the pooch this time. The three stood beside one another in an awkward triangle—one didn't know what to say, one didn't hear what the other had said, and the other wanted to leave but couldn't.

Ding-dong-DING! The doorbell proved a welcome distraction.

"I'll get it." Erik left hurriedly.

"Evee…" Gwen placed a hand on Elvia's shoulder, watching her friend enact the thousand-yard stare. She wondered if she should give Elvia a little zap from her fingers to jolt her from the stupor. The girl was overthinking things.

A shrill cry rang out from the upper floor, rolling across the atrium. "OI! I am back!"

Erik stumbled down the stairs with a frightened look. "I think we're under attack!" he stammered.

Following Erik's finger, the girls saw a familiar figure descend. Their eyes spied a pair of dirty leather combat boots still stained with ichor and blood, ending at the knees in military cargos. Above, two bandoleers of potions were slung across the broad hips, hooked onto a stained combat suit. Across their intruder's shoulders was strung a hefty looking backpack with an assortment of camping multi-tools.

And finally, somewhere in that mess of gear was a head full of matted hair, framing a heart-shaped face.

"Rambo?" Gwen murmured, aghast the sight. "Is that Yue?"

Elvia was agog and said nothing.

"Guys!" Yue shrieked from atop the stairs. She unclipped something and her gear landed with a noise akin to two skeletons making out on a tin humpy roof. "I've missed you so much! I MADE IT!"

Yue sprang down the stairs two at a time. An arm that smelled like the jungle grappled Gwen by bringing her cheek to chest. Elvia received a likewise treatment, being drawn unwillingly into Yue’s deathly embrace.

It wasn't long before the girls' bodies went slack. Gwen staggered back, gagging and choking. Elvia turned green.

"Ha-ha." Yue laughed jovially. "Finally, you all get to share in my suffering!"

Gwen circulated a mote of mana to calm herself before the canapés found their way back up. "It's good to see you too, how did you get back? Where's Alesia?"

"Back to the apartment." Yue grinned. "I came straight here, wasn't going miss Christmas. It's Elvia's party, after all."

"I thought you were out of contact?" Elvia forced herself to swallow. "Did you get my invitation, after all?"

"I received it as soon as we hit a Divi-Station," Yue said. "We flew and teleported as much as we could, fighting whatever critters came out along the way. Even so, it took us eight hours! There was no time to change."

"I can smell that."

"I am so happy you're here!"

Gwen snuck a peek at Elvia; her friend had been sufficiently distracted, for now. She realised that, sooner or later, she had to come clean with her friends. Secrets festered when left unscoured. "How much time do we have until your performance?" Gwen inquired.

Elvia looked at a clock. "About thirty minutes?"

"Good. Yue, get yourself cleaned up. Evee, can Yue use your bathroom?"

"Sure, I'll get her a change of clothes."

Gwen passed a hand over Yue's gear, stowing the lot in her Storage Ring. Yue whistled. "Moving up in the world!"

"It's a long story." Gwen studied Elvia, before turning back to Yue. "Later, I'll tell you everything, I promise."

Yue read the awkward atmosphere. "You guys have a spat or something?"

"Nothing like that.” Elvia replied demurely.

"I'll be back!" Yue shrugged. "Whatever your problems, point me to the ensuite first.”

Gwen changed again, this time out of her Yue-soiled dress and into a pair of white shorts. As for Elvia, it was no surprise she had an endless wardrobe of white dresses. After the costume change, the girl left Gwen and Yue alone to await the night's final festivities.

Behind the sliding door, Yue showered, humming a little tune as she washed off the grime, moaning from the pleasure of hot water and cleansing, moisturising soap.

"So," Yue's voice penetrated the door, "are you up shit creek without a paddle?"

"Yep, I am stranded in a sea of shit."

“Yikes. But have ya Awakened in the school of Paddles?"

Gwen snorted.

“Sorry, spent a lot of time with soldiers, picked up some bad habits.”

“Nah, the frankness is refreshing.”

“Well, don’t let it grow on ya.” Yue finished showering. “I am trying to control myself around Elvia. Wouldn’t want our innocent Evee to pick up a bad habit.” She slid open the door.

“Whoa,” Gwen turned away, blushing fiercely.

Yue shrugged impressively. “You get used to it in the field. Showers are rare and leeches the size of snakes live in the rivers. No time for modesty or comfort.”

“What the hell did you do?” Gwen asked with her back turned.

There was the sound of clothing shuffling on hurriedly.

“Yue, are you decent?”

Her answer arrived in the form of a pair of arms wrapping about her waist. “It’s good to be back in the real world.” There was a dark edge to Yue’s voice.

“Yue?”

“Just a moment. Just need to make sure this is real and not a dream.”

Gwen remained still. “I am real.”

“I know.” There was a masked snuffle.

"Want some tissues?"

“Thanks.” Yue dabbed at her face. “Okay, I am good. Let’s go see how our daughter is doing, Mother.”

“What? I always thought I was the father,” Gwen inquired suspiciously.

“Ha! You wish!” Yue laughed, grabbing her friend by the waist, making her yelp. “Jesus, you lose weight? Where’s the meat gone?”

“I worked it off.”

“Another long story?” Yue's wandering hands retreated. “Bloody oath, you're all Gwen and bones. Nobody likes that.”

“I’ll work on it. Wait, did you hear that?”

The sound of music filled the house.

“Come on. We’re going to miss Elvia's performance!”

The girls ran down the stairs just as the carols were about to begin.

A dozen of the children, mostly boys in white shirts and ivory vests, were lined up by the jetty. A Conjurer had created hundreds of floating Dancing Lights, lazily swimming through the air and over children. Like fireflies, the twinkling sparks danced across the water, illuminating the singers.

Elvia stepped forward, resplendent in the white light, glowing faintly with an aura akin to celestials. She gazed upwards toward Gwen and Yue, her luminous blue eyes twinkling with emotion, then began to sing.

“Stille Nacht, heilige Nacht!

Alles schläft, einsam wacht

Nur das traute, hochheilige Paar.

Holder Knabe im lockigen Haar,

Schlafe in himmlischer Ruh,

Schlafe in himmlischer Ruh.”

The sound of angelic voices and soft piano music faded into the darkness of the bay, commemorating the birth of a godlike being that would change the world for the next millennia. And as the song reached its crescendo, the girls stood alone with their thoughts and their stories, awaiting the long night.

Chapter ten

One Thousand and One Nights

After copious volumes of Christmas pudding with a massive dollop of ice cream, the girls watched the Dancing Lights slowly drift outward, dying in darkness.

They retreated into Elvia's bedroom, each pilfering cushions from the other rooms. Gwen was giddy with excitement. A sleepover was something she had never experienced.

It took an hour before the small talk was exhausted, and then it was time for business. Like back at the dorm, each of the girls took up one corner of the four-poster bed. Elvia sat against the headboard while Gwen and Yue leaned against the posts, buoyed by cushions.

"Alright," Yue began. "Let's get this show on the road! There are no secrets tonight. It's tell-all and show-all! Let's begin with the least traumatic of events. Elvia, out of ten, how do you rate your holiday activities?"

"Umm…" Elvia's big blue eyes rolled in their sockets. "Seven?"

"Oooh, very impressive," Yue cooed dramatically. "I'd say my blood-soaked story of jungle survival is about a nine. What about you, Gwen?"

Gwen chuckled uncomfortably.

"Twenty?"

"Hm…" Yue raised both eyebrows. "You're not going to tell us that you're a middle-aged man polymorphed into a high school girl, are you?"

"Oh, I wish." Gwen smiled weakly. "I just hope you don't think I am lying or making it up, that's how ridiculous my story is."

"We'll try our best." Yue breathed in deeply. "Elvia, you're up first."

Elvia's face took on an intense concentration. She began to speak, first about her work at the clinic, then later, the main event. "Every year, our family volunteers for charity work. This year, they were headed to the refugee camp on Manus Island.

"We arrived in early November, so the weather was both hot and humid. The camp we were going to was inland, so we had to take a local charter ship up the river to reach it. The entire waterway was lined with humpies as far as the eye could see…"

Elvia could hardly believe her eyes… or the stench.

The camps along the river sprouted like monsoonal mushrooms, invariably the same sites of sadness and abandonment. For the inexperienced Elvia, a few hours was all it took for the immutability of the island's poverty, the enormity of it all, to drown her mind.

According to her uncle, there were very few rules on the island. The refugees from the Mermen incursion had been given food, some resources, and then largely left to their own devices.

Here on the island, the strong were merely an accident arising from the weakness of others. The rare Mages who lived among the refugees became the natural possessors of a place without rightful rulers. Both bullies and thugs, they hoarded food from the supply drops, warred with others too weak to fight, and aggravated murder and mayhem for sport.

For Elvia, their destination was the root of the river, the last bastion of order upon the island. There, the Mageocracy's volunteers had set up a station that offered refugees a place to receive medical attention, ensuring that no pandemic exacerbated an already hopeless situation.

As expected, the station was understaffed and overwhelmed, no matter how many volunteers and families from the cities came to help. The loss of the Micronesian islands to the Mermen created an endless wave of refugees, some escaping from slavery, others from chattel pens, filtering toward the single safe refugee the currents would allow—the Frontier nation of Australia.

The ship's first stop was a place ironically called Eldorado, a large camp housing about two thousand individuals. To Elvia, "Housing" was a word her uncle used ironically, as rugged jungle smothered the island, making the atmosphere intolerable. Indeed, Elvia was already melting under the oppressive heat; travelling up that river was like entering into the primordial past. And behind their camp, the jungle panted, impenetrable and inhospitable.

When the boat finally docked, Elvia immediately cursed her naivety. In Sydney, she had envisioned a field hospital with nurses in white linen. Clerics, NoMs and healer Mages alike would stand shoulder to shoulder, working to alleviate the pain and suffering of the refugees.

What befell her now was a circle transmigrated straight from hell. For what greeted them were hundreds of refugees, dark faces blunted and burnt by the sun and the humidity, with hungry eyes that swallowed the new arrivals.

"Hans, welcome back." Elvia's uncle was greeted by a young man whose coffee-coloured skin was dark and leathery, peeling here and there. "Had a cyclone come through last week. Things have gotten pretty bad."

"Kali, good to see you again. What's the damage?" Hans asked, motioning for Elvia and a few others to join him on the shore.

Elvia stepped onto the plank and was immediately the centre of attention. Compared to their surroundings, she was too clean, too radiant; a pure being in a place full of things that slithered.

Kali rubbed his eyes in disbelief. "This is?" he asked, his Adam's apple bobbing nervously.

"My niece." Hans introduced Elvia, who waved at him demurely. "Make sure she's safe."

"Of course, Dr Lindholm, anything." Kali bowed toward Elvia, from where she stood hiding behind her uncle. "Anything you need, Mistress Elvia. I shall protect you with my life."

Hans offered Elvia a hand. "Have courage, Elvia. Kali will see to it that you are safe."

Elvia met the young man halfway. Kali took her hand and kneaded her fingers before touching it to his forehead. "I am your servant, Mistress," the native declared.

"He's an Earthen Abjurer." Hans gave the young man a firm pat on the shoulder. "Now, as I was saying, what was the damage? How's the triage centre dealing with the patients?"

"Currently, we have forty blues, twenty-two greens, five yellows and two reds. More are probably coming in."

Elvia gulped. "Uncle, that's a lot of patients."

"Elvia, everyone—come, let's get to work. Kali, round up some men and move all our spare tables and chairs into the triage centre. We're starting with the reds. Jones, Thomas, Clyde and Elvia can handle anything Orange and below."

"As you say, Dr Lindholm."

As they moved through the camp, pained faces stumbled from olive-green makeshift camps to gawk and stare. Most of them were topless, the few of them who had clothes were sweat-stained and soiled here and there. When they saw Elvia, a ripple emanated from the crowd, with fingers gesturing at the blonde girl.

Hans frowned. "Kali, what's going on?"

Kali hollered something that the gathering. "Catapult!" the Abjurer suddenly incanted. A boulder the size of a man's head flew through the air and struck a coconut palm, snapping it in half. The tree then toppled into the jungle, crushing all protest from the crowd.

"I want a perimeter kept." Hans nodded approvingly. "If they're not sick or dying, they're not welcome."

The triage centre itself was a mess. Whatever it had stocked had been looted long before the medical team had arrived. Hans growled and ordered the beds and tables set up again. Once it was done, he and the other doctors passed a hand over the empty tables, materialising equipment, potions and medicinal instruments from their Storage Rings.

"Start sorting the sick. I hope the locals still have the tags the last team left."

Elvia stood at her station, her fingers trembling. Even with a cooling Glyph set up in the room, it was stuffy and the air stank of sweat and antiseptic. Her uncle sorted the new patients, prescribed them with the level of healing required, after which the orderlies took them to the station with the relevant healer.

Shrrrrk! Her curtains parted with a start. A young woman with a bruised and battered face entered.

"This one needs a Cure Minor. Examine her for infectious diseases." The orderly pulled the curtains close once again.

"H-hello," Elvia greeted her with a nervous voice. "I'll be healing you today. Please lie down on the table."

The woman obeyed.

Elvia performed as she had been instructed by her uncle, initiating a head to toe. When she pressed on the woman's stomach, her patient winced and began to moan. Elvia placed a hand upon her abdomen and incanted an altered form of Detect Disease and Poison composed for diagnostics.

"Oh no." Elvia's eyes widened in shock and horror. "You've had an…"

The woman met her eyes with a resignation that made Elvia feel sick. Elvia examined her body with growing horror. The young woman had bruises all over her torso. Additionally, there were lacerations on her lower body. When she moved to check between her thighs, the woman shook her head.

Elvia looked up.

"Heal, please," the woman begged.

"But," Elvia was feeling her eyes watering up, "protocol says I need to…"

The woman grabbed Elvia's wrist with surprising force. "Heal, please," she begged again.

"Elvia, tick-tock!" The orderly pulled at Elvia's privacy curtain. "There's a line."

Wordlessly, Elvia placed her hands on the woman's abdomen. "Heal Minor Wounds. Remove Disease."

A green glow suffused the young woman. She moaned as the flesh knitted with that soul-scratching itch, which came with magical healing. The woman cried out; the more potent the mending, the worse the bone-deep itch. When finally the magic faded, her patient slipped off the bed, exhausted by the toll of the body's regeneration. "Sank you," she muttered before she stumbled out.

Her next patient was a young boy with a broken arm in a makeshift splint. The next was an older man who leered at her with a toothless grin. He had an infected eye.

The next was another young man who tried to speak to her in a tongue she could not understand. When he got handsy, the orderly beat him black and blue and threw him out. Another boy arrived with a gangrenous foot.

Another came, and another went; an endless stream of suffering that seemed without end.

"I am so sorry." Gwen moved closer to the petite girl, putting out her arms to envelop her. The girl hesitated, but ultimately relented and nestled herself between Gwen's arms. "That must have been horrible."

"Uncle said I needed to see the world," Elvia noted sadly. "I don't blame him. I think I really did need to see it. I'd never thought such a place could even exist."

"So then what happened?" Yue could sense that there was more. There was always more.

"Things were okay for a month or so. We went from camp to camp, doing our best. The people who we helped started calling me the Ensel, and we were drawing out folks who were hiding in the jungle."

Elvia looked crestfallen. "And that's when it happened.”

"Buk off!"

Elvia knew there was something wrong when a rough and foreign voice heavy with the accent of the local Tok Pisin dialect shot over the ambient moaning of the patients.

Driven by morbid curiosity, she opened the curtains, revealing a group of thuggish looking natives clothed in what looks like the multi-coloured garbs of woven grass. Above these tribal garments, the thugs wore western singlets stained with sweat. The speaker was a corpulent man wearing what appeared to be a crown woven from blonde grass.

Across the floor of the triage tent, their eyes met. Instantly, Elvia's heart sunk.

"Who's the King here?" the man said in a mix of local dialect and English.

"I am." Hans stepped from the group of impatient-looking doctors. The man appeared surprised that none of the staff looked particularly afraid, merely annoyed. "Where are you from, friend? What we have here is a medical facility. There are no HDMs or precious metals for you to loot."

Elvia knew from where the man hailed. He was probably from a local tribe and having Awoken as a Mage, now fancied himself the king of his tiny corner of the earth. It was the typical story here. The local warlords had instigated almost all the conflict with the refugees.

In the past, the Mageocracy had attempted to quell the locals with force of arms. That had ended badly, and this was the end-result of their failed colonial efforts.

"I am a pawa-ful Magician," the man said. "I hear that you have the Ensel here. I have come to take her as my meri."

Elvia blanched.

Her uncle blinked and quickly glanced at Elvia. She recalled her uncle hinting that there might be some trouble but had also anticipated that no one would bother doctors literally in the process of saving lives. From the looks of it, her uncle has underestimated the allure of a pale, blonde healer to these local warmongers.

"I am afraid that is not possible," Hans said, speaking slowly so the man could understand. "Elvia is not for you."

The man grinned, pointing at Elvia. "Is this the Ensel?”

Elvia's eyes grew as wide as hen's eggs.

"Come to Luluai!" The man walked towards her.

Elvia backed away, bumping into a table, sending its cargo of steel trays and syringes tumbling. Her uncle clicked his tongue, dismayed by her clumsiness.

"Kali!" Hans called out. No reply came.

"Ha! Your bodyguard is defeated. He was no match for me in a pait!" the man boasted.

"Did you kill him?" her uncle's face grew stone cold.

"Who knows?" The man shrugged. "Now, Ensel, come with me. I will treat you nicely, and then we can do the biktaun as maritman and meri.”

"Was he gentle on the first night? I can't believe you didn't invite me to the wedding." Yue jested rancorously, chuckling at the morbidness of her imagination.

"Yue," Elvia protested. "It's not funny!"

"Alright, alright, then what happened?" Yue said, putting up her hands.

Elvia paled.

"Then Uncle got super angry…"

Elvia's uncle was a patient man, but even a saint's patience had a limit.

When the village idiot boasted that he had bested Kali, Elvia witnessed her uncle's dismay. In the week they had spent together, Kali had been beyond helpful. Without the local man, the team's progress would be set back many years, perhaps losing access to entire areas of the island altogether.

Elvia sensed Hans' anger rise like pent-up magma rising through fragile crust. She knew what was about to happen next and began to find cover.

"You want to try me, mon?" The man's eyes glowed. A sloshing sound bubbled from the ground. To their surprise, the earth around the man began to liquify.

An Ooze Mage? Elvia recognised it. It was a rare talent. The man could have made himself something in the cities. Ooze Mages were one of the rarer Primary para-elementals, specialising in protective and debilitating effects.

Here on the island though, the Mage was a source of pure misery.

"Elvia, you might want to look away," Hans warned.

Elvia could hardly move. She'd never seen her uncle fight before, and she'd never seen an Ooze Mage before.

"Oo Supia—" The Ooze Mage began, but before he even got halfway, Elvia's uncle finished a tier V healing magic. "LIGHT OF ABSOLUTION!"

A pillar of light surrounded the man. A non-existent shield of mud instantly evaporated, revealing a pulsing beam of pure Positive Energy. The shock of losing his shield disrupted the man's tribal spell, the look of horror on their assailant’s seemed to suggest he thought he was about to die. When he did not, he gazed upon Hans with an evil grin.

"Your spell does nothing," the Mage mocked her uncle.

Then the smile froze on his face. His body began to swell. First his limbs, then his torso. Within the man's twisting abdomen, organs tore and gashed, bloating with cancerous cells. There came a sound of muscles tearing and bones wrenched from their sockets. In his final moments, the man's head grew the size of a watermelon, or perhaps a boil on the verge of violent expulsion.

"Elvia! Take cover!" Her uncle dived behind the table. "Back behind the curtains!"

The crew ducked behind whatever they could. Elvia stared, shocked and fascinated.

Then, the human water balloon exploded.

Yue dry heaved.

Gwen cradled Elvia like her baby, hugging her whole-heartedly and squeezing her tight. The poor girl! Her poor Evee!

"I-I was so glad I had my mask on." Elvia sobbed. "Otherwise some of it might have gotten in my mouth."

"Elvia! No!" Yue rolled around the bed, unable to control herself.

"Uncle told me that this is why we Positive Energy casters need to stay away from the front lines. Our spells are slow and take time to manifest. They’re easily shielded against and can be unexpectedly inhumane."

"How is that seven out of ten? I am being traumatised for life here!"

"Oh, you poor, poor thing!" Gwen kissed the top of Elvia's head, not ever wanting to let her Evee go.

Yue recovered, panting as she laid on her back. "Phew, alright, that was intense." She fanned herself with a hand.

"Your turn?" Gwen asked.

"Well, I don't know if mine is still a nine after that, but alright."

"Well, I was with Master Alesia," Yue began, her eyes clouding with recollection. "So naturally it all began with a Fireball…"

Chapter eleven

Valkyries

“An empowered Fireball specifically," Yue gushed. "The very first meta-magic that Alesia taught me. It's Evocation mixed with Transmutation."

Yue wanted to begin her recount in medias res. The girls, however, demanded context as they couldn't make head or tail of Yue's pyrotechnic, Michael Bay epic. "Alright, alright, sheesh. Give me a second."

Yue had to recount several times to get her story straight and figured out the chronology of her flash-fire flashbacks.

"So, we're on Moreton Island, off the Gold Coast. The coastguard had requested heavy ordinance from the Tower, which meant Alesia. Master was already gunning for an opportunity to get me blooded, so she agreed on my behalf."

Yue went on about how she had still been half asleep when Alesia had grabbed her, then flew out to catch the troopship with Yue in her pyjamas. "The Island was a FOB between the Great Barrier Reef and the Coral Sea. As for why it's there, it's because of that mumbo-jumbo we learned in Geography class—trade routes to the South China Sea and whatnot. The Tower lost contact with the base after a cyclone came through in October.

"Anyway, the troop carrier ran into some trouble along the way. We got rammed by a giant squid that tried to topple the ship. Master killed it, and we ate grilled squid. Squid tentacles as thick as your leg? Yes, please! Then when we're almost to the island, we got boarded by Crab folk, I think. Anyway, they were surprisingly good steamed with soy and ginger. We kept going, and as we landed, these fish folks were attacking the harbour. Boom! Sashimi two way, with chilli fish head soup."

An uncomfortable silence reigned.

The other two girls regarded one another. "You ate them?" Gwen asked.

"Raw?" Elvia said.

Yue blinked. "Was I not supposed to?"

Gwen suppressed a gag. Should Yue have eaten her prey? There were no right answers to that. The consumption of Magical Creatures was essential in the development of human civilisation and its magical war potential. At school, the girls ate them by the tableful, but those weren't intelligent creatures, or were they? There was a Caliban's length of ethical dilemmas that assailed Gwen as she tried to step into Yue's shoes.

"You said PEOPLE—talking, walking, sapient people. With villages and stuff. Civilisation." Gwen reiterated, slowly realising how ridiculous she must sound.

Yue regarded her friend puzzlingly. Sometimes Gwen said the darnedest things. "Fine." She sighed. "Anthropomorphic Magic Creatures. Better?"

Gwen felt her gut clench.

"Anyway, Evee, the sashimi was amazing. So fresh, you could taste the mana just rolling off your tongue."

"That sounds delicious," Elvia cooed.

Gwen tasted bile, wondering if there were vegetarian Mages.

"Regardless, we arrived at the island, and it’s a fiery mess. By the way, Alesia brought the whole team with us. Do you remember Billy and all that?"

Gwen did. Elvia did not.

"There's Jonas, Alesia's Cleric. Paul's the translocation Conjurer-Transmuter. Taj’s the Water Abjurer and Billy is the Diviner. He's responsible for communications. He asked after you several times, Gwen. I think you made an impression on him."

Gwen's cheeks burned pink. She recollected that the last time they’d met, she had worn nothing but a robe.

"So we landed," Yue continued, using her voice as much as her hands. "Off the bat, Alesia gets me buffed—Flight, Iron Skin, Aid, Resist Elements, the works. I am all jacked up and ready to go, you know? She's like, go out there and get me some crab legs! I am all like, 'Yes ma'am!'"

Elvia giggled.

"That's right! So we took off from the troop carrier and rocked that bitch like the Valkyries of legend…"

Yue watched her first empowered Fireball bloom into a scarlet blossom of death, sending bits of fish-folk spiralling like ragdolls here, there and everywhere.

The Muckfolk, or perhaps the Sahuagin—Yue couldn't tell from this distance—scattered and ran for cover. The Mermen had thought themselves safe after overpowering the outpost, and now paid the price of their naivety. A few of the legged-fish took to the fort itself, throwing spears and shooting poison-tipped arrows at the two Mages from behind cover. Their ineffective weapons ricocheted from Yue and Alesia's Iron Skin-enhanced bodies, making long white marks where they struck.

Alesia halted Yue's immediate retaliation and fired a mote of flame through a window. Her Scarlet Caracal Spirit could differentiate between friend and foe, and so could effortlessly purge the fish-eyed Murks.

WHOOMPH!

In the next instant, the windows blew out. A dozen fish-folks, blackened and seared, tumbled from the second-storey window.

"Match my speed and follow my flight trail. Attack every second volley. Beware Danger Close as the ground troops move in."

"Yes, Master," Yue obeyed enthusiastically.

Master and student circled the base while Jonas and the rest of the team arrived with the reinforcements, clearing out the Murks as they went. Yue observed a creature getting skewered by a spear of stone that erupted from the earth.

"Scorcher!" Yue sent out her new spell, testing their combat effectiveness. Radiant lines erupted from her hands, jet-streams of fire so hot as to turn white struck the fishes below, taking off limbs and heads, setting others ablaze. When a cluster of three or more appeared, waving their primitive spears, Yue opted for a Fireball, blowing the unarmored beings into giblets of smouldering meat.

Blossoms of fire erupted below.

They were on their third pass when a bone spear shot from nowhere and skewered Yue mid-fight, sending her tumbling down below. Yue's Iron Skin held, but the sneak attack had winded her. With a yelp, Yue fell. For an Apprentice, her borrowed Flight spell lacked the means to be maintained without concentration.

Yue struck the sandstone wall, skidding off the sides to land in a heap on the blackened bitumen below. Her Master cursed under her breath, then somersault turn in the air, diving for her student.

The sneak attack had come from a window on the third floor. Below, several Muckfolks converged on the fallen Yue. Caught for time, Alesia sent a Maximised Fireball into the window before landing with a flourish, the explosion behind her sending out a shower of glass and aluminium.

"Yue, you alright?"

"Yeah, just a little dazed." Yue slapped her thighs to offset the concussion, stumbling upright, bracing against the wall.

"Think you can handle this one?" said Alesia, testing her Apprentice's resolve.

Yue nodded, clearing her grogginess through force of will. The Murks came closer, half a dozen of them armed with bone spears and long daggers of Megalodon teeth. Heeding her Master's lessons, Yue waited for a moment more before making a semi-circled gesture with both hands. "Wall of Fire!" she incanted, pushing past the throbbing pain pounding her brain.

A semi-circle ring of orange plasma burst into existence, catching the Muckfolks as they advanced. Yue grunted as she channelled more mana into the phenomenon. Ahead, her flames flared and roared, stoked as though by an invisible wind, spluttering blue and white-hot, turning her foe into charcoal.

"Phew!" Yue fell to one knee just as the final Muckfolk writhed and died.

Her Master caught her as she sank to her knees, slinging Yue's arm across her shoulders. "Good work, Apprentice."

Yue beamed at her Master and idol.

"Let's get you back to Jonas."

"Sorry I got hit."

"It happens to the best of us. You'll learn in time," Alesia replied encouragingly. "Remember to be situationally aware at all times. Don't get distracted by fireworks. Fire and forget and never stop moving, never fly in a straight line."

"Yes, ma'am."

By the time they got back to Jonas, the landing force had mopped up the stragglers. Billy had made a round through the perimeter, ensuring that no Muckfolks remained on the base.

"I'll go get the crystal running," Taj offered.

Alesia removed a Storage Ring, tossing him the spare Barrier Core. With the creatures this close, the base had likely lost its original. Unlike the barriers closer to the cities, these coastal stations were regional and isolated, and mostly self-powered.

"I'll keep an eye out," Paul said, then left with Taj.

Jonas approached, gazing worriedly at Yue. "Injured already?" he remarked, placing a hand on her shoulder. "This is going to itch. Cure Light!"

Yue shuddered as her bruises faded and her cracked bones mended. By the time the spell had run its course, cold sweat had soaked through her shirt. "Thanks, Jonas," she replied between clenched teeth.

"Allie, are you sure about taking Yue into live combat?"

"Absolutely," Alesia said. "Yue can handle it. She's like me. Hell, I had a four-digit kill count by the time I was fifteen. By Yue's age, I was a Major."

"That was a war," Jonas protested.

"What do you call this then?" Alesia smirked roguishly, expansively moving her hands across the vista of the burnt and crumbled courtyard.

"You know damn well what I mean," Jonas growled.

"I am fine." Yue focused on a spot on the floor, forcing herself to resist the urge to pull her skin open so she could gnaw at her itching bones.

"Well, I know Alesia thinks you're a tough nut, but take care of yourself. Don't be reckless." Jonas advised, rubbing his chin and scratching his handlebar moustache.

"I will, thanks Jonas," Yue replied innocently, stretching out her arms, punishing the elasticity of the unforgiving fabric. She could see that Jonas was flustered by her carelessness. Like her Master, she enjoyed teasing the old Healer. Jonas was an old celibate and a worrywart, but the man made a damn good healer.

A thrum rang through the air. The barrier was back.

"There we go." Alesia patted Yue on the back encouragingly. "Mission accomplished. Easiest ten k you ever earned. How was it?"

Yue seemed stunned by the news. "We get paid for this?"

Alesia regarded her Apprentice dubiously. "You don't think we do this for free, do you? The Tower may be many things, but a charity it's not!"

"That's way too much money."

"Why?" Alesia raised an exquisite brow. "I am a Battalion Level Magus, and you're my cute little ensign! Even you receive Danger Pay!"

"It's still too much, Master," Yue protested. She had a total of four hundred roo dollars in her student card, and that was after half a year of savings. She usually ate from the school canteen to save money on luncheons and dinners.

"Bosh! You have any idea how much money you need to be a top-rate Mage?"

"Nope," Yue confessed.

"Boots of Flying, Nagaskin armour, Ioun Stones, Combat Wands, Health potions, Mana potions…"

Yue shivered at the thought of so many HDMs flowing out of her account. "I get you, Master."

"Good, now let's see how the Harvesters are going. We get to keep fifty percent of everything we kill.

It took the harvester Mages and their NoM helpers the better part of the afternoon to gather the bodies and dig out the Mana Cores. Most of the Cores had shattered, although the team managed to recover about twenty odd stones of various sizes.

"About two thousand HDMs worth, ma'am," one of the crewmen reported. "Would you like to take delivery now?"

"Sure, shoot it over."

Yue watched Alesia pass her ring over her share of the Creature Cores. She turned to Yue. "If you sense a powerful elemental presence in a Core, it means there's a Spirit in there. If you manage to find one, then you're in luck. A minor Spirit sells for about two to three thousand HDMs. For an intermediate-tier Spirit like my Caracal, expect up to twenty thousand HDMs."

Yue felt suddenly weak.

”You starting to get the reason why I dragged you in here?"

Yue wasn't big on critical thinking, but even she could sense a windfall when her piggy bank clinked. "To make Crystals?" she ventured carefully.

"Exactly!" Alesia wrapped an arm around her Apprentice, rubbing two fingers together. "Three things make a good Mage—good breeding, good training, and good resources. If you want to catch up to Gwen, tiger, you better be rolling in the dough.”

"How much did you make?" Gwen watched as Yue imitated Alesia rubbing two fingers together in a conniving manner.

"Hee." Yue snickered proudly. "Wouldn't you like to know!"

"Come on, don't be evasive."

"Take a guess."

Elvia lifted five fingers.

"Five HDMs? Evee, cut me some slack."

Gwen facepalmed. "She means five hundred." Gwen put into perspective Elvia's guess.

"Colder."

"Fifty?"

"Warmer."

"Two hundred?"

"Colder."

"One-fifty?"

"Bingo, just about."

Gwen tried to whistle but succeeding in only blowing a raspberry over Elvia's head. Thankfully, Elvia's eyes were already glazed over. She had her family's support, but that was different. She'd never had more than a hundred HDMs to her name. "Nice one, Yue!"

"Hehe, thanks." Yue thrust her chest out proudly.

"What happened next?" Elvia wanted to know what was so terrible about Yue's jungle island adventure.

"So yeah, we stayed on the island for a while cause we had to Purge the place. Alesia used this opportunity to run me haggard. Day in and day out, it was 'Buff up! Fly out!' 'Blow this up! Blow that up!' 'Search and Destroy!' You know how it is, right? After a while, I kind of got used to it. Pretty sure we burned down half the island by the end."

Unfortunately, the girls did not "how it is".

"You want highlights? Alright," Yue relented after they pressed for more specifics. "Well, there's this thing, you see, we found… nah, it's not that interesting."

Yue blanched, her facial muscles froze into a terrible grin.

Gwen felt her heart lurch. Something horrible must have happened to faze the unflappable Yue. "You okay?"

"Yeah." Yue puckered her lips.

"You don't have to tell it if you don't want to." Gwen moved across the bed and took her friend's hand, noting with mild alarm that Yue was cold and clammy. "Yue, are you okay?"

"Bless!" Elvia reached over and channelled a few motes of Positive Energy into their friend, filling her body with a warm and fuzzy glow.

"Thanks, Evee." Yue swallowed. "Okay, I am going to tell the story."

The girls nodded.

"No secrets," Yue reiterated.

"None." Gwen's stomach lurched, mindful of its “secrets”.

"Alright." Yue seemed to have calmed herself. She squeezed Gwen's hand and began to relay the tale, her eyes focused on a middle distance. "So, I was out hunting when I ran into a Muckfolk Spawning Pool…"

Yue had read in her sociology textbook that humanity were the only beings who kept chattel, mass farming domesticated quasi-magical beasts to provide food for its burgeoning citizenry.

Before her discovery, she had been out on the lake's edge stalking prey. Alesia had a simple rule for survival training—you kill, you eat. To wit, Yue had been equipped with a small Storage Ring and a tracking amulet, then sent off into the Orange Zone to find dinner.

Armed with a basic lay of the land, Yue ranged from the camp with her inexpert Transmutation, crashing through the forest like an Auroch in a terracotta shop. She had almost given up hope when, to her surprise, she spotted a pig-like creature with a prehensile nose foraging for roots, utterly oblivious to her presence. From the back, it wasn't very impressive looking; akin to a stocky dog. It looked stupid and, according to Alesia's lessons, this meant one of two things—either the creature wasn’t native, or it was unmolested by local predators. Looking at the honking porker, Yue was confident that it must have been stock kept by the colonists before they’d been wiped out by the Muckfolks.

The porker was eating something by the lake's edge. Very carefully, she evoked a Flaming Spear, an altered form of Scorching Ray re-shaped for penetration. With a thunk, it struck the pig-like creature in the starfish, skewering the porcine beast with a quenching squeal.

"YES!" Yue gave herself a crude chuckle before venturing from her hiding place. Kneeling over her prey, she produced a bowie knife and began to dismember the beast, just as Paul had instructed. In a better mood, she hummed as she worked, whistling some tune that had been popular on Sydney's pop charts before she left.

She was mid-hack through extracting a rather delicious-looking length of back-strap when a commotion took place on the shore opposite, some half a kilometre across.

There was something on the lake. If Yue squinted against the sun, she could just make out what looked like a dam made from rotten driftwood and smashed up trees bundled together with vines. There was a Muckfolk on there, and he was manhandling a familiar, fleshy silhouette.

Yue stopped her extraction of dinner from the butchered pig. There, paralleling herself, was a fish-man taking an axe to something that looked vaguely human. She could just make out the humanoid shape thrashing about before it collapsed. The Muckfolk then hacked here and there, throwing bits of red-pink flesh into the waters.

"What the fuck," Yue mouthed to herself. What the fuck did she just see? Her oesophagus clenched hard as she wiped her gore-soaked hands on her shorts and shirt. When she looked down again, she finally saw what the porker had been eating.

There was a human hand, cleaved at the wrist and missing a finger lying in the sedge. That was what the porker was feeding on.

Yue crashed into the basecamp fifteen minutes later, her outfit torn and her legs were bleeding from trashing through briar thorns.

"No wonder there are so many of the little fuckers around." Paul was hanging a cig in one corner of his lip, grilling fish fillets over red-hot coals. "They got themselves a Spawning Pool set up."

"That explains how the local garrison got overwhelmed." Alesia clicked her tongue. "Little Murk bastards could have got to maturity in three months if they’d just stayed hidden in those lakes. Good work, Yue."

Alesia clicked her fingers, and the camp's fires died out.

"Fuck, my fish!" Paul groaned.

"Fuck your fish. Get ready to move out, Raid configuration. We're taking out that village."

"Yes, ma'am!" The men saluted, then moved about camp, stowing their supplies.

"Yue, Billy, get me a sitrep on this lake, I want a comprehensive Scry of the area."

"Yes, ma'am!"

"Yes, Master."

Yue directed on the map to Billy where she thought the lake would be, watching Billy's eyes turn white as the Scry took hold. When the Diviner finished, he turned again to the map and began to mark it with patrol routes, points of interest, and targets of opportunity. Yue watched Billy's work with fascination. Usually, he was a nervous, stuttering wreck, but the Diviner was an expert when it came to the cartographic markings.

Alesia approached with the rest of the team a few moments later, packed and ready to rumble. "Brief us."

Billy noted several entry strategies for Alesia's perusal, carefully combing over each item on the map. When it was all said and done, Alesia nodded with satisfaction. "Good work, stay back and open up communication with our basecamp at the beach. Let them know we found the motherlode. I want the area completely purged. Jonas, Paul, set up extraction points here and here." Alesia tapped the map.

"Taj, Yue, you two are with me. Taj, Paul, we're running extended buffs. Plan for sixty minutes of full-combat engagement. I am going to Djinn up."

"Yes, ma'am!"

"Alright. Buff up!"

"Wait up." Jonas coughed. "You want to take Yue on this?"

Alesia cocked her head. "What's wrong?"

"She's not ready."

Alesia turned to Yue. "You ready?"

Yue's thoughts flashed back to that scene she had witnessed at the lake. She could still feel the rage boiling over. "I am ready."

"See? She's ready." Alesia patted Yue on the head.

Jonas said nothing.

"Okay, ladies, here we go!" Paul began to channel. "Mass Flight! Enhanced Constitution! Freedom of Movement!"

Taj followed. "Aid! Bless! Resist Elements! Iron Skin!"

The two Mages broke into a sweat after buffing only Alesia and Yue. Taj then self-buffed, activating his Boots of Flying.

Alesia stepped back ceremoniously. The men turned their backs as Yue helped Alesia remove her clothing, stowing them away in her ring.

A Glyph appeared beneath the Scarlet Sorceress' feet, three circles bisecting to form a triplicate Mandala, spinning faster and faster until it tapped into the Prime Plane of Fire. Instantly, the air around the Evoker ignited. Hovering mid-air, Alesia's Flame Spirit, Caracal, melded into her body. Scarlet flames erupted from her porcelain skin, her hair transformed into strands of red-hot copper, sending out a swarm of fireflies. Her blue eyes became two brightly flaring stars, white with heat and the rage of primal fire.

Yue watched with eyes aglow with adoration and amazement. Here was the very embodiment of her most celebrated desire—the physical manifestation of "Firepower" in feminine form.

Alesia cracked her neck. Her voice was hollow and godlike. "Yue, come! Today, we are Valkyries of Death, sowing discord and war in Odin's name!"

Chapter twelve

Something's Fishy

Gurglugg was the chief of his domain; lord of all he surveyed. Though some had called Gurglugg a warmonger, he had been a wise enough chief to enjoy the popularity of the clannish families that served under him. Indeed, no fish had starved to death since he took the reins of power. For years, the number of young Muckfolks proliferated, swelling from tens of clutches to hundreds! Soon, Gurglugg's kin would populate the island.

At least, that was what Gurglugg had anticipated until one moon past. Now, the dreaded Landkin which plagued their island had returned, traversing the terrible sea. Upon their arrival, the Landkin had annihilated his outpost and took the lives of sixteen clutches of younglings. Worse still, from the reports he’d received from Flurgluug, there were flying shamans among the Landkin who could rain down fire from the heavens. Cursed fate! The best his shamans could do was rain down mud and rot upon his enemies. How in the name of Buulopdegup was he supposed to fight that?

As if that wasn't the worst of it, in recent days, his fishes had begun to disappear by the dozen, entire patrols evaporating into the air as though Buulopdegup had eaten them herself.

In rows, his kin came to him with their petitions, their eyes oozing with mucus.

"My clutch-mate is gone!"

"They took my spawnlings! Gluuurp!"

Bah! Gurglugg was sick and tired of their complaints.

Of course, he knew why their babies and their clutch-mates were disappearing. It was because they invaded the Landkin's base! The Landkin were so delicious once flayed. So convenient, these creatures were, to have skins that came with "zips" that allowed for easy removal. They were good labourers as well when made to work in the spawning pools, eventually becoming excellent fertiliser for the young when they grew weak and died.

Now, Gurglugg had just a few dozen left, herded in the pens. Maybe he should use them to request peace? That had worked with the Serpents in the deep jungle, who left them well alone when Gurglugg had presented them with human shamans. The Snake-kin liked to eat the shaman's brains and hearts. They were strange like that.

Still, what was he to do? With the crystals they’d found and the flesh they’d harvested, the tribe could grow to two or three times its size! If anything, Gurglugg needed more time—time for the new spawnlings to be born, then he would be the chief of a thousand clutches!

Gurglugg shook his bulbous, whiskered head, sending out flying globs of sputum and phlegm, trying to align his thoughts. His intense mental concentration was almost at its apex when…

Boom—BOOM! Ba-BOOM!

An explosion rang out, unlike anything Gurglugg had ever heard before. The stupid noise quickly turned into the sound of females shrieking their gills out.

Gurglugg flapped his plump and corpulent body for the door, his legs as thick as small tree trunks. He snatched his favourite coral trident at the door and pushed past the seaweed curtains.

"Glurrrgh! Ghugh! Gooolp gul gu gu gullarg?"

His answer came in the form of a blast that filled the air. Gurglugg's jutting eyes, each the size of dinner plates, moved to focus on a series of dots approaching them. With alarm, he realised the horizon was on fire, lit by a miniature sun.

"Goolp gul gu gu gullarg?!" he said to his guard. The stupid fish-spawn built like a mud sloop-house stared slack-jawed.

The air grew scorching. Steam began to rise from the pool and Gurglugg could see the young below writhing in pain. "Gulark uu Pulak! Goolp gul gu Glaark! Glark!"

His cry of warning echoed across the village, reverberating across the lake. His skin felt incredibly dry, like all the moisture had been extracted from his mucus. He gazed upward, sensing the presence of something too terrible to acknowledge.

The miniature sun had arrived, blazing ochre and orange, radiating enough heat to wilt the wetland. His warriors used every weapon at their disposal but could not harm the radiant being.

A flash of fiery mana erupted from the sun’s midst. The radiant sun god declared some edict he could not understand.

Gurglugg did not possess eyelids and could not squint, but in the circumstances, he tried his best. Half-blind, he could just make out the silhouette of three humanoid figures.

There was a flash of light.

Gurglugg burned.

The forest burned.

The lake boiled.

The world was on fire.

As the Purge team approached, Yue could see Alesia's Wall of Fire cast a swath of destruction through the forest. Every inch of greenery they traversed became scorched earth, the trees wilting in the wake of their passage. From churning cinder came the figure of the Murks, hundreds of them, fleeing towards the safety of the lake, their limbs flailing wildly, the bright-coloured flesh upon their heads pulsating alarmingly.

Yue threw out a few Blast Bolts, watching the missiles detonate below. One bolt struck especially true, splitting a slow-running one from the shoulder and sending its head flying.

"Getting a nice count there!" Taj shouted over the music. "You over a century yet?"

"Just about!" Yue hollered back.

"Let's see how many are in the village," Alesia joined in. "You'll probably hit four digits."

"Four digits?" Yue marvelled.

"You'll see." Alesia laughed, sending out fireflies embers as she pressed forward.

"Hey! Check out that fat one!" Yue spotted a rather large Muckfolk holding a trident.

"I think that's a Patriarch," Taj shouted.

"Let's get started, then." Alesia accelerated to combat speed.

The trio arrived at the centre of the lake, where Yue had seen the Spawning Pool. Below, they could see hundreds of Muckfolks swimming through water, trying to protect clutches of transparent spheres. Alesia's Avatar of Fire radiated so much heat that the water below her began to ripple and steam in great broken rings.

"Filthy fucking animals!" she spat distastefully. "How many people did they feed into that pool to get that many tadpoles going at once?"

With a grunt, she clapped her hands together. The heat rose in earnest. In her Efreet form, Alesia was a human portal channelling the relentless energies empowering the Elemental Plane of Fire. "Flame Barrier!" she incanted, drawing upon her fathomless reservoir of elemental flame.

Instantly, a wall of fire twenty metres high formed around the lake, licking across the forest in black gouts as the vegetation charred. From above, the trio watched as the flame formed a great ring that encircled the Muckfolk village in a matter of minutes.

"Nothing escapes," Alesia noted for Yue's benefit. "Paul and the others will take care of the pens, we take care of this."

Muckfolk warriors emerged from the lake to engage them, great big hulking masses of fish-faced amphibians with bulging biceps the size of footballs. They launched spears of coral and bone from the water towards the girls, peppering the skies with dark shards of poison and bone.

Had Alesia and Yue been alone, they would have to use their speed to avoid the ground to air assaults, but they had Taj with them. The Abjurer effortlessly blocked the Muckfolk's non-magical attacks, casting warding barriers of stone that formed below the girls like great bowls of dark clay.

A glob of acid splattered toward the Mages. Taj blocked that too with another shield.

"Yue, take care of it," Alesia commanded.

Yue spotted the Muckfolk shamans below and began tossing Fireballs toward the surface of the lake, preventing them from surfacing.

Meanwhile, Alesia extended both hands and drew a flaming Glyph in the air. Another set of Glyphs opened up above and below her. She began the ritual for a tier VII spell of mass destruction, accessible only in her Efreet form.

Yue fired off another volley of Fireballs, watching the orbs impact the lake's surface, scalding the creatures hiding below.

"Firestorm!" Alesia exhaled. From the heavens descended a tornado of swirling fire that plunged into the lake, wildly displacing the surface so that hissing steam flooded the forest.

As Yue had anticipated, the surrounding area filled with superheated steam. She even felt a spurt of white-hot mist hiss underfoot, noting with alarm that Taj's stone barrier had begun to flake.

"Glad you got that Resist Element?" Taj joked.

"Bloody oath." Yue almost bit her tongue.

As Alesia's spell raged, the ineffective attacks against them ceased.

"Jesus Christ! What the fuck is that smell?" Yue was instantly aware of a scent that rose from below, thick and heavy with the texture of an oily gravy. It was a smell of fish; not rotten fish, but boiled fish. Hundreds, no, thousands, of poached fish.

The vortex of superheated air persisted for another minute before subsiding, dispersing thanks to the magically-induced microclimate.

Yue's eyes grew wide with horror. What she saw was obscene death on an industrial scale. The poor bastards below had been boiled alive, their leathery skin falling from their bodies in great sliding sheets of slimy flesh. There were even ones without skin at all, walking blindly with bleeding eyes through the mud, stepping on others. Others had gone mad from the agony, lashing out and attacking anything that came close.

Yue saw one take a trident to its face, frenziedly stabbing itself to make the pain stop.

Then the wailing started. First, a few, then a dozen, then whole schools of the bastards began to cry out in agony and pain, a chorus of suffering. Yue saw small monsters, big monsters, Muckfolks clutching clusters of their transparent eggs, now well-cooked, wailing in despair. Pairs of the fucking things were hugging one another. She even saw a little fish-thing trying to nudge a dead one to wakefulness.

"What the fuck," she whispered under her breath.

Her mind spun. These were just monsters, right? Materials and fodder and food! What was this feeling eating away at her chest? Why was her stomach lurching, her heart constricting? She couldn't even breathe. Was it the smell?

She tried to speak but couldn't find her voice.

"I need a quick break," Alesia announced. The fire of her Efreet form began to dim. "You guys go mop up. I'll be fine at a higher altitude. Meet up with Team Two. They should be at the Pens. If we're lucky, a few people might have made it."

Taj flexed his muscular, bull-like neck. "Yue, ready?" he joked.

Yue was still staring slack-jawed at the exquisite hell below them.

"YUE, still there?"

She turned slowly to look at Taj.

"You alright?" he demanded briskly. "Never seen mass destruction spells in action before? They're all like this. I wouldn't worry. If you think this is bad, you should see an extended range Incendiary Cloud. Crispy, I tell you! Ha! You ready to become a bit-shot Evoker?"

Yue felt the beginnings of an insane smile, the muscles around her lips locking into place to form a permanent grin.

"Let's mop up!" she announced jubilantly, her mind no longer willing to ponder the vision below. All she could recall right now was the invocation for Fireball. And from what Yue could see, she was going to need many Fireballs indeed.

"Bai Yue." Gwen felt such wretchedness that she had to hug Yue tightly against her bosoms, enveloping her head with both arms. Elvia joined in, and the three of them shared a moment of silence.

"Do you want to cry?" Gwen asked carefully. "It's okay to cry."

"I am over it," Yue replied with a muted voice. "I've never been one for outbursts."

The trio parted.

Gwen felt the eyes of her friends upon her.

"Your turn," Elvia said heartlessly.

"Yeah," Yue affirmed. "What's the damage? Miss twenty out of ten."

Gwen audibly exhaled. "I have a lot of secrets. Some of them don’t belong to me alone, so I'll have to refrain from those, but I'll tell you as much of myself as I am able."

The girls nodded.

"Before I begin, I want to show you guys something. It'll make my story more believable."

"Alright."

"Hit me."

Gwen concentrated. "Ariel."

A jolt of lightning jolted harmlessly through the air, materialising into a cute little marten that landed with a flourish.

"Ee! EE!"

"No way!"

"Oh. My. God."

Ariel began its devastating attack of adorability, instantly enslaving Elvia and Yue's maiden hearts.

"Can I touch it?" Elvia asked.

Gwen nodded.

Before Elvia could touch the marten, Yue reached out with both hands and hugged it to her face. "So soft!" She moaned orgasmically.

Elvia watched enviously, awaiting her turn. After a minute, Yue handed the cat-snake over. Elvia took it with trembling hands, her blue eyes staring widely at the creature as it sniffed the air.

"Ee?" Ariel necked Elvia's hands with its cheek.

The cuteness proved excessive for Elvia; her mental fortitude had reached zero. Like a girl obsessed, the healer kissed Ariel full on the nose, then did it again. Ariel extended its little pink paws and gave her face a good push, but Elvia persisted in smooshing its weaselly mien.

The girls played with the marten for a good fifteen minutes. Finally, Ariel settled onto Elvia's lap.

"There's one more," Gwen said expectantly. "This one is also cute. I think."

The two girls nodded with big grinning faces.

Gwen took a deep breath. Then she took another deep breath.

Then she materialised plastic sheets across the bed, asking them to stretch out the corners and sit over the edges.

Her friends grew confused. Was it a Water Elemental? Was Gwen trying to hint that she had another element? If so, it would make Gwen beyond unique. Very few Mages had more than one element.

"Caliban," Gwen stated with a quavering voice. "Come!"

A dark portal shunted open near the ceiling. Instantly the temperature dropped by several degrees. Yue felt her heart wrench with dread and loathing as the Negative Energy polluted the air. Elvia, on the other hand, turned white with shock, reacting aggressively against Caliban's aura of desolation.

Then Gwen's Familiar came, a slithering monstrosity in black obsidian, sinuous and serpentine, its prehensile body writhing this way and that. Unlike Ariel, Caliban turned to Gwen and hissed. "Shaa!"

Yue felt the bile rising in her throat.

Elvia began to scream. She cocked her head, gripped her sheets, and screamed and screamed.

As if reacting to its favourite music, Caliban turned to the petite blonde and joined in the symphony. Its carapace split in twain, revealing a pulsating mass of purple-pink flesh dripping with cold grey slime. It opened its lamprey's mouth and began to sing, its tongues darting about happily. "Shaa! Shaa! Shaa!"

Gwen grimaced. Was that too much too soon? Was Elvia's father going to burst into the room and see his comatose daughter with a monster? Gingerly, she conjured a little handful of purified water and splashing the coldness across Elvia's face. Elvia snapped back to reality, saw Caliban and cried out once more.

Finally, too paranoia to allow her friend free rein, she moved a hand over Elvia's mouth. "Hush! Shh! It's okay Elvia, Caliban is friendly." Gwen willed it to calm down, watching its tentacles retract into its carapace. Without its pulsing flesh exposed, Caliban resembled an abstract work of art.

Elvia gripped Gwen's wrists, her nails digging into Gwen's skin. "Wow, I don't even feel remotely mind-fucked by the Murks anymore," Yue gazed warily at Caliban as its head bobbed this way and that. "Good work, Gwennie, I am cured."

"What…" Elvia wracked her mind to find an appropriate word. She found it in Yue's favourite vernacular. "Gwen, what the fuck is that?"

"Evee!" Yue slapped Elvia, shocked. "No!"

Gwen raised a hand, willing Caliban to come closer. She rubbed its snout gingerly against her thighs, eliciting a clicking purr. Ariel meanwhile, played the ambassador and leapt onto Elvia's lap once more, licking her face to provide her with some creature comfort.

"What Element is that?" Yue was surprisingly acute when it came to Magical Creatures. "Is it… Undead?"

"No, thank God." Gwen allowed Caliban to settle, feeling a surge of weakness pass over her as Void mana exhausted her body. Sensing her weariness, Caliban reached out and flicked a tentacled-tongue against its master's chin. "Evee, can I trouble you for some Positive Energy?"

Elvia reached over and began to channel. She could see Gwen's complexion improve as her Healing Word made its mark.

"That's enough. I am not wounded or anything." Gwen breathed out. "To answer your question, Yue, Caliban is a Void Familiar."

"What! NO WAY!" Yue exploded. "That's one of the three forbidden elements! That's right next to the big NO-NO! How is this possible?"

Meanwhile, Caliban had found its new favourite thing. A source of life energy! It slithered out of Gwen's lap and made for Elvia, begging and nodding its head comically as it moved.

Elvia felt herself petrify as the dark thing approached. It lowered its head gently and nudged her knees. When Elvia did not retaliate or resist, it continued to crawl up her leg. "Gwen?" Elvia's voice caught in her throat.

Gwen was unfortunately distracted by Yue.

"Gwen?" Elvia asked again, this time with more distress as Caliban crawled into her lap and began to sniff her skin.

Gwen was still busy trying to fend off the disbelieving Yue.

"GWEN!"

"Caliban! Come back here," Gwen commanded. Her Familiar sulked and slithered back. Before it returned, however, it regarded Elvia with a look that seemed to say they were now best friends.

Elvia shivered, cold sweat drenching her nightgown.

"I don't get it," Yue blurted out. "This is the stuff they used to talk about in history class! In the Beast Wave! In the Great Calamities! Why is it next to us and giving Elvia a tongue bath?"

"It's a long story," Gwen began. "A very long story."

"We've got all night." Yue sat back, holding a pillow to ward off Caliban.

Beside her, Elvia hugged Ariel tightly, feeling the resonance of Positive Energy within it. Caliban, meanwhile, coiled itself against Gwen's lap. Gwen nodded. She looked forlornly at her two friends, then began to tell her tale. She started with the events after the Rainbow Serpent when she’d returned to the Tower with Alesia. She was still under Geas to avoid that topic, so she merely intimated that the Master of the Tower was very interested in her near death-encounter with Edgar, the Mage that had abducted her and Debora.

From that meeting, Gwen had discovered that she had, in fact, one more School to Awaken in. With the help of Henry Kilroy and the Greater Cognisance Chamber, she had become both Conjurer and Evoker, Lightning and Void.

When Yue asked about the Void element itself, Gwen told her the half-truth; that she had no idea. As for why she Awoke in it, Gwen associated the talent with her near-death experience, courtesy of Edgar.

After that incident, Gwen had trained with Alesia and Gunther while at school and in the Tower. During that time, Gwen also met her grandfather, Surya, and with Henry's help, managed to summon Ariel and Caliban.

"So that's why you kept disappearing every weekend!" Yue commented sulkily. "I thought you had a boyfriend or something."

Gwen continued her story, moving onto the unfortunate meeting between Mark Chandler and herself. It was a complicated story to narrate, and Gwen did her best to tell it chronologically, first going over her assault of the Slaver's base, then her capture, then Caliban running amok. She even confessed fully to Caliban's appetites.

"Don't be scared, Evee. Think about how loyally Caliban reacted. Man, I would love to have myself a Caliban in a tight spot," Yue remarked with confidence.

Then, to Gwen's relief, Yue reached out and rubbed Caliban's body, feeling its smooth exterior. Caliban raised its head and gazed at Yue with a knowing nod of comprehension. Yue then allowed Caliban to scent her hand, feeling the serpent nudged her knuckles with his snout.

"Good Cali," Yue cooed. "Who's a good boy?"

"Shaa! Shaa!" Caliban replied coolly.

Gwen continued her story, continuing with Gunther's arrival and his borrowing her hand to murder the two slavers.

"You… killed PEOPLE!?" Elvia was white as a sheet.

Yue raised both brows.

Gwen confessed all, including how Bozza and Farez had finally expired. "How do you feel sitting beside a murderer?" she asked weakly.

"Meh, it was self-defence!" Yue's retorted defensively.

"Was it?" Gwen intoned melancholically. She had already replayed the scene so many times in her head. "They had no limbs, Yue. They were defenceless."

Yue licked her lips nervously. "Still, I don't blame you or anything."

Comparatively, Elvia seemed conflicted by Gwen's story. Her hand, which had been rubbing Ariel's stomach, ceased its stroking.

Gwen sighed and continued her story. Without risking too much detail, she explained the reason why Mark had turned against his friends and allies. Gwen told them of Elizabeth, Henry Kilroy's wife, who had been a Void element user herself. Elizabeth had gone mad with power, ultimately consuming others to feed her insatiable hunger. Mark had been convinced that Elizabeth had murdered his sister, and so used Gwen to entrap Henry. She even told them that Mark had used Necromancy to capture his sister's soul as evidence.

"That asshole!" Yue uttered in disbelief, then realised the reason for Gwen's melancholy. "No! You're not going crazy! You're a good person who feels remorse! Not like that Elizabeth woman. She was unbalanced from the start."

"Thanks, Yue, that's my hypothesis as well," Gwen replied, hoping that her friends had enough faith in her to believe her.

Elvia remained silent.

Gwen had a little more of the narrative left. She told them about how Gunther had arrested Mark, of how she had that long conversation with Henry. The only way to save her from a fate of living in infamy and secrecy, Gwen explained, was to become a proverbial panda protected by all. She was to be a living Spell of Mass Destruction that all the powers respected and left well alone, tethered to the influence of the Tower's Middle Faction, and therefore to the Mageocracy itself.

Finally, she informed them of Surya and Henry's plan and the girls' part in it. All that was left now was how they would receive the news.

"That's about the gist of it," Gwen finished. She had omitted things as well—her true origins, the twin souls, her consumption ability to appropriate the talents Caliban devoured. These were secrets she'd likely have to take to her grave.

"Well, I am cool." Yue beckoned for Caliban. Gwen watched with surprise as Yue placed her face close to Caliban's own and allowed their noses to touch. "Odourless, how interesting," Yue remarked, giving it a bop on its formless head. Caliban sent out some feelers to touch Yue's collarbones. "Eek! Ticklish!"

Yue was an amazing Mage, Gwen affirmed—that mental fortitude, that unflappable personality. The girl was made of sterner stuff than Gwen herself.

"Elvia, it's okay if you want me to leave or something." Gwen felt her stomach sink. "Please just say something."

Elvia looked up from stroking Ariel, turning her small face to regard Gwen and Yue with her luminous blue eyes. Then, to their surprise, Elvia launched herself from the bed and embraced Gwen by the neck. She dug her head into Gwen's shoulder and began to sob mightily. "I am sorry," she mumbled incoherently. "You went through so much, and I wasn't even there. I didn't even know! I am a terrible friend!"

Gwen felt all tension drain from her body. Suddenly, she could breathe again. She wrapped her arms around Elvia, then kissed her cheeks. "It's okay, Evee. I am so happy you can still accept me as your friend."

"Eee! Ee!" Ariel joined in the huddle.

"Aww." Yue felt her heart fluttering with gladness as she pressed herself into the scrum.

"Shaa!" Caliban slithered in between the girls.

"Aeee!" Elvia tore herself away, falling against the pillow.

"Shaa!" Caliban looked hurt.

Suddenly, Yue began to laugh. Gwen laughed as well. Ariel squealed with delight.

Elvia wasn't in a jovial mood, but the laughter proved too infectious.

Caliban realised that it wasn't in trouble and wagged its tail expressively.

All five laughed themselves to exhaustion, so much that Gwen had to retract Caliban and Ariel into their pocket dimensions.

"Phew," Yue remarked, recalling a break in the chronology. "Assuming we get more details later for all that, I want to know what you did for the entirety of last month."

"Ah," Gwen realised that she had stopped the story a little prematurely. "Well, there's something you need to know about Debora…"

Chapter thirteen

First World Problems

You and Debora toured the Outback?!" Elvia's eyes marvelled at the word.

To the city folk, the Outback Frontier was a world of horses and Aurochs and roos. That, and Drop Bears—monstrosities hidden among the branches, waiting for the wayward fellow wandering below, only to descend upon them with their rock-hard arses.

"Aye," Gwen answered with a seductive grin. "The Outback! A place of yore, a sunburnt country full of sweeping plains, rugged mountain ranges, droughts and flooding rains; with stark white ring-bark forests, all tragic as the moon, and sapphire-misted mountains and the hot gold hush of noon!"

Elvia's eyes glazed over with a look of dreamy romanticism.

"There, we battled a brutal land shark, hungry for the flesh of man! Debora and I, two young maidens thrown into the fight, were ambushed by a dread-beast in the dead of night!"

"Awesome."

"But what horrid hap for the shark! For the cunning Debs doth made pillars of stone for us to escape our woe! Frustrated, the shark cometh, jaws a-snapping and saliva a-flinging. Hark! I called upon a thunderous hammer to smite our foe with lightning! Alas! Its diamond scales repelled the bolt!"

"Oh, no!" Elvia gasped. "Then what?"

"Fear not, for even as the beast's ire shifted to I. The faithful Debora leapt unto the creature's flank, beating upon it as… a drum!"

"Huh?"

"Look, don't expect me to last more than a few verses. I am no Skandi Battle Skald." Gwen shrugged. "The main thing is, we defeated the beast, and Deb was lucky enough to pick up an intermediate Earth Spirit with the power of sand."

"No shit?" Yue exploded. "A Spirit?"

"Yep, a medium-tier Sand Spirit."

Yue appeared thunderstruck. The girl had risked her life wading through Murkloc guts, and all she’d got was PTSD. Debora went adventuring in the wilderness with her best friend and just casually picked up a mid-tier Elemental?

"She worked hard for it." Gwen coughed. "She's a good ally."

Yue's eyes narrowed. "What's her affinity now?"

"Tier… five?"

"Fuck." Yue snorted twin streams of air from her nostrils. She looked Gwen up and down, making her skin crawl. "We should go hunting sometime."

"Sure. There are always more roos roaming the region."

"We’d better." Yue sighed. "Alright, let's snooze."

"You're sleeping here?" Gwen muttered between pursed lips, her eyes glazing over.

"You're not?" Yue shot her a look.

Gwen looked at the two girls. Yue's voluptuous figure enveloped Elvia's, though the smaller girl paid her companion no mind. As for herself, she felt strangely self-conscious. For some reason, she thought of Debora's blushing face.

"Come on, you sleeping or not?" Yue patted the place beside her.

Gwen felt her resolve put to the test. Sleeping next to Yue should be fine. If she slept next to Elvia, she might awaken something terrible.

Driving all thoughts from her mind, Gwen quietly removed herself from the foot of the bed, sliding herself into the silky sheets. "Right," she replied woodenly. "Let's sleep." She closed her eyes and tried to stay still, one leg hanging over the edge.

Before she could get comfortable, two soft pillows pressed against her arm. Soon, a thigh followed. Before she could protest, there was a sound of snoring. Gwen pushed on her best friend, but the girl was already sleeping like a log, dead to the world.

"You girls have fun last night? What'd you do? Play board games?"

Frederik was having a good chuckle at the girl's expenses when Gwen emerged with eyes that were puffy and bloodshot. In Elvia's bedroom, the others were still counting sheep, entangled within piles of linen.

"Good morning, Mr Lindholm. Good morning, Mrs Lindholm."

"Call me Fred," he answered jovially.

"Likewise," Elaina replied. "Just Elly is fine."

"That's alright." Gwen raised both hands and refused politely. "I wouldn't want to make Elvia uncomfortable."

"Suit yourself." Frederik tipped his coffee cup toward the maid, who was readying breakfast for the girls. "Beatrice, can you make Miss Song a coffee as well, please?"

"Yes, sir," the maid worked the machine.

In the morning light, Gwen studied Elvia's parents. Elaina should be thirty, but she seemed only a little older than her friend. Unfortunately, Gwen noted sadly, if Elaina was any indication, it was unlikely that the angelic Elvia would become any more “womanly”.

"Oh yes, your cousin left us this." Frederik handed over a card. "I think it's an invite."

Gwen took the card and opened it. There was a family portrait of Richard, Aunt Tali, and Uncle Huang on the inside, with “Happy NY” written in English and Chinese.

Gwen, come to the NY family meet-up this year. I know that in previous years Kwan had been a dick and didn't invite you, but this year, Surya is coming. Something big is happening. Your mother's coming as well. You should be here.

—Richard.

Gwen snapped the card shut. She should probably give Opa a buzz. Yue and Elvia seemed like they would be a while yet. "Excuse me. I need to send a Message," she said, walking barefoot onto the bay view terrace. She took in the vista before her, feeling the salty breeze of the sea brine upon her skin. The coolness helped to diffuse the sudden heat she’d felt the moment her mother's name had been mentioned.

Helena Huang.

Gwen felt nauseated each time she tried to access either of her memories regarding her mother. The old Gwen's fragmented recollection had been full of disparaging moments of anxiety, both purposeful and neglectful. From the time alter-Gwen had been ten and had failed to show any promise in Spellcraft, Helena had obsessed with her external appearance. In terms of recollection, all she possessed was a vague montage of crash diets, verbal abuse, as well as toxic criticism of her in front of others.

As for Gwen herself, she hated her reflexive desire to please Helena. Each time she thought of her "mother", something of the old Gwen reared its ugly head.

Facing the sea, she willed herself inwards. If she was to confront her mother, the last thing she wanted was for some horrid memory to paralyse her at a critical juncture. She wasn't sure about her alter-self, but she rarely allowed wounds to fester.

When she had meditated on her memories before, it had felt like a torch had dropped down a deep well. At the bottom of that well sat old water, festering with scummy memories.

In her old life, she had told Helena to fuck herself the day before she’d moved into a shared room provided by the government and her part-time work. After that, it had taken only four years of waitressing at trendy bars to finish university, by which time Helena had all but faded from her life. When she’d later queried her father, Morye had told her that Helena had left Australia with her new husband for China.

But the Gwen of this world could not have expected government assistance or a safe bed provided by welfare. She was only useful to society as a Mage. If Gwen's family had simply abandoned her… Gwen shuddered; she had seen enough at Blackheath to know she wouldn't last a week.

That was why her old ego had had no choice but to buy into her mother's words. Alter-Gwen must have thought herself lucky to have a mother who was so maternal and caring, and that she was the one who was too fat, too skinny, too whatever.

"WHOA." A chilling shock jolted Gwen from her internal revelry.

"Whoops," Yue said, retracting a cold bottle of water. "Didn't think you were that out of it. Good morning!"

"Morning," Gwen answered with a wan smile, one hand touching the spot where the cold bottle had left a moist indent.

"Elvia should be up soon."

"Nice, did you get a good sleep?"

"Oh yeah, nice and snug. Man, I've got to invest in those one thousand thread-count sheets. It was like I was sleeping in a cocoon."

"Yeah, it's nice like that."

Half an hour later, Elvia joined them.

"Hey, you."

"Morning," Evee yawned, making a cherubic expression that energised the sleep-deprived Gwen.

Gwen showed her friends her invitation.

"Want some support?" Yue smashed a fist into the palm of her hand. There was no way to know that underneath that expression of sweetness was a battle maniac who now had a four-digit kill counter.

"Nah." Gwen shook her head. "I'll have to face the music sooner or later, I'd prefer sooner."

Yue shook her Message Device. "You know where we'll be."

Elvia likewise concurred, offering to be Gwen's support.

"Thanks, guys," Gwen confessed her gladness. "Let me make a call."

Away from the girls, she Messaged Surya. "Opa."

"Gwen, my girl! How's the party?"

"It was delightful."

"What's the matter?"

Gwen wasn't exactly sure how to approach it, so she mentioned Richard's note.

"Ah, heard about it, did ya?" Surya said. "Richard's a good bloke, eh? Who'd have thought? Well, you should thank your Master. I spoke to him and he wants your family distractions resolved."

"You're not going to tell them about my talents, are you?" Gwen's chest tingled.

"Not entirely, no. That's the problem, you see? Kwan's a real piece of work, even if he's my son. Heaven knows what stupid ploys he's tied up for you. I have to go and make it clear that you're a line they cannot cross, on pain of ex-communication."

"Do you think I should come?"

"You don't have to. I know you and Helena—" Surya suddenly paused, as if something had struck his mind mid-sentence. "You don't fault me for that, do you, Gwen? I was so upset with Morye back then. I didn't know what Helena was doing."

"It's alright, Opa." How could she be angry at Surya? In her old world, she hadn’t even seen her opa more than a dozen times before he’d passed. In this world, she was beyond glad that someone like Surya even existed.

There was the sound of relief and a chuckle. "Well, you can come if you like. You might see something amazing."

"What is it?"

"Hehe, you'll see." He chuckled. "I'll see you on the thirty-first. Remember to dress formally for the occasion. Impress everyone! Are you coming back to the estate for the next few days?"

"I should be."

"Good. I have something to give you."

Gwen blinked. Her heart quickened; that something had to be Almudj's Scale! At long last, after all this time, it was ready! "Okay, Opa. I'll be over later. Can I bring some friends?"

"Of course! Anyone who is a friend of yours is welcome in my estate."

"Thanks, Opa. You're the best!"

"I know, dear. I know."

The glow of the Divination ceased.

She wanted to return to the estate right now. What could Opa have created from the scale of the serpent? It was an exciting prospect, but not nearly as overwhelming as inviting her friends to "her" place for once. "Guys! Gather around. Listen, I've just got approval. You guys haven't been to my opa's estate yet, right? Out in the valley?"

"Nope." Yue drank her orange juice.

Elvia syrupy coffee.

"Do you want to come and hang out for the next few days? We can hunt some roos, check out the towns, go for a ride on horses through the Outback—hot gold hush of noon and all that."

"Horses!?" Elvia's ultramarine eyes lit up.

"Oh yes, I have one called Beatrice, a spotted mare," Gwen explained the deal with her mare, and how Surya had kept it at his estate for her perusal.

"Roos?" Yue smiled with teeth. "Big, three-metre bastards that try to melee you?"

"Thousands of them," Gwen assured her.

"Let me ask Dad."

"I need to make a call."

Her friends returned a moment later. Frederik was more than happy for Elvia to spend more time with Gwen. After all, one could never build enough early social capital with a future Magister-in-waiting.

Yue's doting mother didn't like the impromptu holiday but knew she couldn't stop her headstrong daughter even if he tried.

"Alright, when do we leave?" Yue asked.

Gwen still had all her gear. She was good to go.

"I need to pack!” Elvia looked for a suitcase. “Give me an hour! No, thirty minutes!”

The journey back down to Polkobin involved travelling back into the city before catching a train again out toward the tablelands. The three girls chit-chatted the whole while, drawing curious glances from the other passengers in the train.

It was Tess who picked them up from the station in the rumbling old sedan.

When they arrived, Gwen ran to Surya and embraced him.

Yue and Elvia marvelled at the rare sight of Gwen interacting amicably with family.

"Gwen, my girl!" Surya was more than happy to have the shampoo scent of his granddaughter's hair fill his nostrils. "And welcome, I am Surya, Gwen's grandfather."

"Thank you for having us, Master Huang." Elvia bowed gracefully, a lock of blonde hair falling over one eye. Surya nodded approvingly, recognising the healer from Gwen's stories.

"Hello! Thanks for inviting us, Master Huang," Yue greeted Surya casually. She performed an awkward bow, her spaghetti-string tank top testing its limits, flashing Surya a wide grin full of white teeth.

Gwen's grandfather's eyes almost fell out of their sockets. Gwen had told him about the Asian girl who was Alesia's student, but to his eyes, the girl was larger than life.

"Gwen," Surya whispered, "your friend is beyond impressive."

"Oh yes," Gwen nodded. "She's tier IV Affinity Fire. She's seen real combat a well."

"That is impressive, indeed." Surya couldn't peel his eyes away.

"Gwen." Yue coughed, turning away from the ogling grandfather. "That's not what he meant."

"Opa!" Gwen kicked Surya in the shins.

"Arrgh. Come and see me in the workshop." Surya fled.

Gwen led her friends to the guest rooms, assured Elvia and Yue of her opa's good intentions, then promised that she would soon return.

In the west wing, her Opa sat in his usual place. He had a small silver box in front of him, placed on top of a pedestal.

"Is it ready?" Gwen asked, her heart in her throat.

"It's ready," Surya affirmed.

"May I?" Gwen inquired carefully.

Surya nodded.

Gwen gingerly retrieved the box and opened it. She was greeted by a chromatic scale the size of her thumbnail. On cue, the scale rose into the air and began to orbit her head, shimmering with the petrol-sheen of a pigeon's neck.

"An Ioun Stone?!" Gwen was shocked. She had thought her grandfather would have made her a brooch or another ring, but an Ioun Stone!

By nature, such items were an accessory iconically associated with powerful Mages. Pending the materials used to make the stone, a sorceress could buff herself with many effects from improved protection to higher damage output, to hasted casting. Rarer stones even provided the ability to comprehend and understand arcane languages!

Gwen's eyes followed the scintillating scale. "So what does it do, Opa?"

Surya rubbed his chin. "Are you aware of how imbued enchantments work, Gwen?"

Gwen scanned her mind for any residual knowledge that the old Gwen might have left, finding nothing. She had never received formal training in Enchantment and didn't know any details beyond basic high-school theory crafting.

"Well, you should know that even with the best of materials, it is only possible to imbue a few effects into an item. The scale you brought me had the unique ability to tap into the natural elements, or what we call the Primary elements—Fire, Water, Air and Earth, do you understand?"

Gwen nodded.

Surya continued. "What do you think you need most right now?"

"Positive Energy?" Gwen said hopefully.

Surya made a face. "I am afraid that's out of my league. What I mean is, what is your weakest talent?"

"Defence?" Gwen asked. She knew her counter-spells were non-existent. Even her non-Newtonian plagiarism of Gunther's barrier took an incredible amount of concentration to maintain and manifest.

"Indeed, in the face of the Inter-High competition to come, I consulted with Henry, and we decided that you should gain an item of defence and protection first and foremost."

"Oh?" Gwen sounded almost disappointed. She had been expecting something that further augmented her offence.

"You can't afford to lose any of the battles, Gwen, and you can be sure that those kids will be targeting the team's main caster. How are you going to do damage if you're a glass cannon?"

Gwen had to admit there was merit in what Surya was saying.

"After much deliberation, I have imbued the scale with the passive effect of absorbing primary elemental damage."

Surya snapped his fingers and a mote of fire flew towards Gwen, sizzling through the air and striking her skin. She yelped and pulled back her hand, expecting a sharp pain. Instead, she felt only a warmness as the channelled flame faded into her skin. The scale shimmered, thrumming with resonance, humming gently.

"The scale significantly diminishes the effects of low-affinity elemental effects," Surya explained. "Give me your hand."

Gwen extended her hand doubtfully. Surya took from the wall bracket an assortment of implements. He pointed the first one at her hand, channelling mana into the device.

There was a crackling sound of snapping stone as a jagged shard materialised and shot towards her palm. Gwen felt the impact bite into her hand. "Ouch!" She pulled her hand and flinched.

"It doesn't stop physical effects." Surya pulled out another wand, this one with a Core that was blue as sapphires. "However, watch this."

Surya channelled and shot a shard of ice toward Gwen's palm. She felt the ice stab into her flesh with a pinprick, but there was no feeling of frigidity.

"Strange, no?" Surya laughed. "I am not sure how it works either. I guess now we know why Alesia's flames failed to peel a single scale from the rainbow serpent."

Gwen asked Surya to try out a few more elements from his attuned inscriptors, pondering the scale's effects as she went. As a novice, Gwen could deduce that the "scale" absorbed heat and cold. While kinetic devices were unaffected, it dampened entropic, thermodynamic damage.

Gwen gave the matter some thought. Self-defence was not her forte. According to Alesia, dodging spells with high mobility became non-optional once damage ramped up the tiers. Of the Schools of Magic under her belt, it was only in Evocation and Conjuration that she excelled, for a jack of all trades would not benefit her team, especially as she had painted herself as an offensive expert.

From now, she had three months until the start of the competition. Of all her alternative talents, it was Flight from the School of Transmutation that made the most significant contribution to her tactical options. But then again, Abjuration offered Resistance and Wards and Divination allowed detection and prevention…

Across from Gwen, Surya watched her eyes glaze over. It was like his cute cucu perempuan had suddenly seized up. Did I break her? he wondered. Was the scale too impressive? It did absorb elemental damage, after all, that's about as unique as a mid-tier item could be.

Slowly, his eyes gazed downwards at her long white legs poking out beneath her dress. He selected a Wand of Ice from the table and pointed it towards the brass stool, a sudden feeling of mischief filling his old heart.

What was life for an Enchanter without his amusements?

Chapter fourteen

Singing the Snake

Gwen massaged her thawing buttocks.

Surya had demonstrated a curious flaw in the scale's resistance, which was that its Enchantment worked best against spontaneous bursts of energy but fared poorly against gradual changes in temperature.

Horrified, Gwen had quickly removed herself from the chair, making a rip-roaring noise. The embarrassment was mortifying, but she could hardly scold her opa now, not after he had given her such an incredible gift.

Once her grandfather had had his fun, Surya additionally recommended that she forgo the iconic look of the floating Ioun Stone. Instead, she should "implant" the scale by adhering it to her skin. Subtlety, Surya explained, would be necessary if she wished to avoid unwanted attention.

Lifting her hair, her opa then placed the Ioun “Scale” against the base of her neck, below her hairline. With a word, he adhered the lukewarm scale to her skin, where it would stay until she willed it to be released.

As a passive effect, Surya explained, the scale would continuously draw from the ambient mana that diffused from her body. It was why Mages had limited "slots" for passive items. Too many attunements meant that a caster crippled their mana pools.

Afterwards, Gwen returned to her friends. In her absence, her classmates had made themselves comfortable on the long veranda, bathed in the auburn sunset setting aflame the infinity pool.

"It's beautiful here," Elvia marvelled as Gwen approached. "I've never seen anything like it."

"I've never seen anything like it, period." Yue pouted. Unlike the other two, she was a regular girl with a middle-class dad. They lived in a house that overlooked a narrow street. Gwen recalled that Yue's bedroom looked straight into her neighbour's bedroom.

She pulled up a chair and joined them.

"What's the plan?" Yue asked.

"Well," Gwen enjoyed the breeze, "we'll get the two of you outfitted tomorrow. Then we can rent a few horses. I know a guy, Tommy, who's a top bloke. There's a lot to do out here. We can hunt some roos, get a barbecue going or see local landmarks. We can even camp out for a night and stargaze."

"Sounds amazing," Elvia cooed.

"I am in," Yue agreed.

Satisfied, the girls showered and prepared for bed. Gwen returned to her bedroom, thinking of the sunset and the day ahead, dreaming of the next day.

“Kalinda!” someone shouted by her ear.

Gwen bolted upright, propping herself up on her elbows.

Only she wasn’t in her bed. She was comfortably nestled amongst on a straw mat laid over powdery clay. In the distance, a sinking sun shimmered, casting an orange haze over the ochre horizon.

No way, Gwen thought to herself. This isn't another transmigration, is it?

Beside her, old Tjupurrula squeezed her arm and puckered his lips, pointing toward something towering and maroon. Compared to herself, the withered ma' mangk was skin wearing bones, held together by desiccated sinews. The Spirit Walker's skin was scarred as per tradition, concurrently dappled with the earthy tones of the Pintupi.

Above her, an enormous landmark, too famous not to be recognised, loomed.

Is that… ULURU? Gwen marvelled. She had never seen the rock in real life before. It had always been on her bucket list but work had intervened.

Following Tjupurrula's finger, her eyes focused on the cloudless sky over the epic natural monument.

"Kapi!" the Spirit Walker clapped emphatically.

There was a crash of thunder, then it began to pour. Rain fell from heaven in buckets, a solid wall of water cascading from a sky without clouds.

Where did the water come from? Gwen marvelled.

Tjupurrula leaned in closer. His skin as dark as obsidian, slick as an eel's.

Gwen looked down and saw a pair of caramel bosoms jutting outwards. Remarkably, she did not feel shame. Why would she? Was that not how men and women came into the earth, naked and quivering, likewise leaving also naked and quivering?

“The Rainbow comes from the earth and returns here,” Gwen heard herself speak, but her voice was strange. It was a woman’s voice, but not her own. "Grandfather, I see now."

“Aye. Almudj is a proper cheeky.” Old Tjupurrula flashed a mouth full of yellow teeth. “It lives here, with a long beard and sharp teeth, in Uluru. It does not need men or women. It dreams, requiring no ceremonies.”

“Will the Snake awaken feeling hungry? Will it eat us?” Gwen heard herself inquire innocently.

Her question made Tjupurrula laugh. “O ya, Snake is very dangerous when it is cranky. The land grows dry, and the Pintupi drink the earth. When it is hungry, we have kurtangulu, nothing!”

Gwen felt the cold water of the cloudless rain saturating her skin, washing away the dust and the grime. As the water streamed from her hair, she could almost sense the seeds buried deep underground violently erupting, breaching the surface, gasping for air.

She opened her mouth, filling it with water. She swallowed, quenching her thirst.

Tjupurrula regarded her with a broad grin. “Uluru! This why the Pintupi can be at peace. Not like those Usurpers. The Snake is proper cheeky, yes. It will attack invaders. It will return their body to their ancestors. All of them. Everywhere!”

Suddenly, there was a tremor. The ground began to shift and move. From atop Uluru, she could see an immense shape slithering and meandering, sliding from within the stone.

“In the early days, when the Yirriti first carried the Song, they carried it through the country, safe from the stalkers and the hunters. They carried it in drought times, through a dry country, travelling at night. I saw this once, Kalinda. I was a young komp, and my eyes were bright.”

“The Pintupi come from the old country, walking to the rock. Following the track. Following the track left by the Snake. Silently, looking, looking and coming to this place. To the mother place. People come. There were many of us then.”

Tjupurrula’s eyes glazed over with a look of nostalgia. “Mothers, fathers, sons and daughters. They come to sing to the Snake. From Purtardi, Koonadan, from Karli Karru, from Tamarama, from Wimparraku. They come. From the south. From the north. From the east. From the west. They shared their meat, their eechak. I shared my kongk. There was no blood, no hate. When we walk the Long Walk, there is no argument. No eye.

“In Uluru, with our special song. The Song of the Pintupi, we sing to the Snake. We could make the Snake remember a time when the world was young. It was a friend then. Before the Usurpers came; all people sang the song.”

A sound of thunder rumbled across the sky.

“Kapi! Kapi! Kapi!” Tjupurrula began. “Come! Ngak uu peeyan!”

Old Tjupurrula's hands gestured in the air. All around them, Gwen saw tens of thousands of the folk gathered, singing, dancing, revelling in the corroboree. Laughing, she lifted herself from the earth. The torrential rain cleansed the mud from her body. She joined the dance, hundreds of bodies in motion, moving around and around, their bare feet pitter-pattering across the flowing earth.

CRACK! came the sound of earth-shattering fulminations. From the apex of Uluru, the Snake began to move, moving toward them, coming closer.

The ground shook again. Something else began to pour from atop the rock. Water gushed from the stone, water with the likeness of blood, shaking the earth, filling it with life. Gwen wept, for here was where every river in the world begun.

Her world turned scarlet. Everywhere the red liquid touched, the land itself was quickly changing— fields of wild grass and wildflowers sprouted violently, exploding from the earth in vibrant eruptions. A verdant rainbow manifested where there had only been sand and dusty death.

“Kapi! Kapi! Kapi!”

The song continued unceasingly, the masses of bodies forming an unending spiral around Uluru.

“Kapi! Kapi! Kapi!”

Gwen turned her gaze upward to see the scintillating eyes of the serpent regarding her curiously.

"Almudj sees you, Kalinda!" Old Tjupurrula slapped his thighs. "Speak to it, girl! Ask for rain!"

Kin?

The serpent's voice flooded her mind, drowning Gwen in a flood of rushing white water.

Gwen forced her eyes to open. Gingerly, one hand moving toward the back of her head, caressing the pulsing serpent's scale imprinted on her neck.

Taking deep breaths, she forced herself to calm.

Her dream had not felt like an astral projection or an out-of-body experience. Instead, it was a vicarious immersion. She felt as though she had been there, as though she was the woman who was speaking to that ancient Spirit Walker, Tjupurrula.

Certainly, her Opa never mentioned anything about the scale bringing edicts from land gods, so what was her vision supposed to be?

Outside, it was already morning.

There was the din of women bickering on the veranda.

As the voices were familiar, Gwen attempted to make out the source of the fuss. The loud and obtrusive screamer was Yue without a doubt. The other was churlish and overbearing. Debora, Gwen realised. She was back.

Slapping on a pair of shirt and shorts, she exited her room.

Outside, Elvia, who was in all-white, was trying to play the peacemaker. Yue leant against the veranda’s rails with a sulky look, arms crossed, heaving angrily.

Debora was on the opposite side, hand on hips, aggressively incensed.

There was static in the air.

"Morning."

All three pair of eyes converged.

Gwen sensed the worst was yet to come. For some reason, she felt like a cheating husband who had double-booked his mistress and his family.

"Hey there, Gwennie, I am back." Debora's voice maintained a suggestive, husky candour. "Did you miss me?"

Yue and Elvia's gazes shot towards Gwen accusingly.

"I didn't know you would be back so soon," Gwen returned, realising she sounded like a guilty housewife. "How was Christmas?"

"Got my blessings from the Archbishop, then polished off some honeyed ham at home." Debora pouted. "Came straight back to see how you were doing."

"Fu—" Yue began.

"YOU KNOW WHAT?" Gwen interrupted before the situation could escalate further. "Let's all go riding! Horses! Big red roo! OPEN SKIES!"

Fuck a duck. Gwen groaned. She had forgotten entirely that only she and Debora had horses on the estate.

Due to her inconsiderate party planning, the foursome was stuck in Tess's car, en route to McGuigan's Estate. A bemused Rhodes had been informed of their arrival, and he had sent Tommy out to ensure the girls could all be saddled and sorted.

Already, the atmosphere in the merc was suffocating. Gwen sat in the passenger seat, while Elvia sat in the middle, caught between a Yue and a Debora.

After ten minutes of not talking to one another, Gwen couldn't take the silence anymore. "Look, nothing happened between Debs and me. We were just fooling around."

Debora looked hurt. Yue was about to bust a gasket.

"Alright, that was a poor choice of words. Debora and I were partners…"

Debora looked pleased. Yue looked hurt.

"In a PARTY. Goddamn it. We worked in a strictly professional capacity, okay?"

"But what about—" Debora raised a hand.

"Debby, help me out here!" Gwen snapped.

"Alright, alright." Debora put up both hands. She turned to look at Yue, who eyed her suspiciously. "Gwen and I shared some intimate memories, not that any of you would know."

"Debora Jones!" Gwen's patience had run its course. She had entirely forgotten how annoyingly possessive and stubborn Debora could be.

"Hmmph!" Even the angelic Elvia felt insulted. Debora's body language did not suggest that her interest in Gwen was platonic.

"You wish, skank." Yue was taking no prisoners.

"Oi, you lot! Do you want me to run the car into a tree?" Tess, who had suffered for an hour, demanded darkly. "I'll be fine with my Iron Skin. But it'll put you sulky lot out of your misery quick."

"Thank you, Tess. That's wonderfully morbid." Gwen sighed. "Alright, everyone. Until we get to the horse farm, there is to be no more bullshit. Or else, I swear to God, I'll turn this car around!”

"Lady boss!" Tommy leapt off his horse with a flourish, bowing as he did so, kicking up a mighty storm of impressive dust. His eyes scanned over the girls. "Oh my! Are Missus Mages always so beautiful?! I must have died and gone to heaven!"

No one answered him. Tommy was amazed by the silence. What had happened? His flattery rarely if ever fell on deaf ears.

"Hi, Tommy. We need to borrow you and four horses. Can you pick out some docile mares for my friends, Elvia and Yue?" Gwen's voice demure and defeated, and it made Tommy terrified. "We'll be stargazing as well, so if you could pack the horses for camping, it would be lovely."

"Sure thing, but you okay, Lady boss? You sound sick, unhappy. Anything Tommy can do to help?" Tommy offered thoughtfully; these lady bosses looked very expensive.

"I am alright, Tommy. Please see to it now."

Gwen walked off by herself towards the paddock where the horses roamed, leaving Tommy to busy himself with the supplies, wondering if the weather had suddenly changed for the worst.

"Mmmnngh!" Elvia had been mum the whole while, but she couldn't take Gwen being unhappy for another minute. "Yue! Debby! Go apologise, now!"

The two girls looked at the healer and her misty eyes.

"Yes, ma'am," Yue replied with a deflating voice.

"Sorry, Elvia," Debora replied earnestly. "Yue, Gwen and I are just friends. Honestly."

"I am sorry as well. I was being a bitch."

The girls went and located their friend.

"We're sorry!" The troublemakers said, making a supplicating bow that was the sign of a Junior Mage to a superior. "Please don't stay upset."

Gwen turned. Her usually sparkling-bright emerald eyes were red and puffy. "I am alright." She rubbed her eyes. "Promise me you two won't fight for stupid reasons again."

"I promise." Debora crossed her heart.

"Me too," Yue added stiffly.

"Okay. Now is a good as a time as any, then. Yue, Debora is going to be on our five-versus-five team," Gwen added. "I want us all to work together and win. You know how much I need this. And how much we all need to win to advance our future careers."

"You'll get no arguments from me," Yue raised both hands. She then extended a hand towards Debora. The two shook, albeit begrudgingly.

"Okay!" Gwen smirked, her face once again projecting happiness. "You girls go and pick your horses. I need to wash my face. It's embarrassing to look like this."

Her friends breathed a sigh of relief as Gwen watched them go, a secret smile touching the corner of her lips.

"Hehe, you young ducks are still too tender for an old bird like me." Their host silently snorted.

Gwen winced, conjuring fresh water to wash out her eyes. Employing half an onion had been excessive. In hindsight, a slice would have done the job just as well.

Chapter fifteen

Into the Wild

Thanks to Gwen's crocodile tears, the rest of the morning passed without incident. Elvia and Yue picked out their horses and quickly took to riding thanks to Tommy. Rhodes came through and shouted the girls a luncheon of roo steak and heirloom vegetables. Tommy was asked to join at Gwen's behest, but the jackaroo insisted on eating alone on a hay bale. Social status, Gwen was reluctant to admit, was far more ingrained in this world.

Gwen's gaze fell on Tommy. While the rider dug face-first into his roo back-strap, she felt the germination of a remarkable idea within her mind.

Tommy was by all accounts, an indigenous bloke. Gwen, was by all accounts, tied to the Rainbow Serpent.

Discreetly, she excused herself from the table and approached the jackaroo from an angle where he could see her walking up shyly, hands tucked into the pockets of her riding pants. "Hey Tommy, can I ask you something for a minute?"

"Sure thing, Missus Boss, what do you need?" Tommy swallowed, his face full of happiness.

"Remember when I asked if I could come and see how your people lived these days, out in the Wildlands? Are you up for that offer still?"

"Sure thing, miss, but are you sure you want to go see? It's no picnic, miss, I gotta say, the old mob, they're not much for the civilisation."

"How so?" Gwen inquired.

"Not too sure myself, miss," Tommy confessed. "Old bickering. Bad Eye. Our guman don't like it when we leave the Spirit Land. He says we are losing our young folk."

Gwen tried her best to recall the names she had heard from her vision. "So Tommy, does the term pintupi sound familiar to you at all?"

"Yeah, nah. I got nothing."

"How about purtardi, triinya?"

"Not even a dingo of an idea, Missus Boss."

"Karli karru? Muruntji? Wimparraku?"

Tommy whistled smartly. "You speak the old tongue real glib."

"Any of those familiar?"

"Some of the words sound familiar. Are they nations, maybe? I am not so sure."

"How about the Yirriti?"

Tommy's brows raised an inch, stretching his leathery face. "How do you know that, Missus Boss?" His voice filled with wonder. "They are old stories me gran used to tell! The Yirriti people were the old singers of Spirit Magic."

Gwen's eyes formed two smiling half-moons. "Do you have one of those where your people camp, Tommy? A Spirit Singer?"

"Aye, old Goolagong, she be the singer of the mob, the Tjukurpa—Spirit Walker, ya know, the Dreaming."

Gwen stopped herself from punching the air. "Tommy, I want to take my friends and myself out there for a few days. We want to be back on the thirtieth or the morning of the thirty-first. Do you think we could make it? I'd very much like to speak to your shaman."

Tommy counted the days on his finger, puckered his lips and made a sucking sound. "I think so, Missus Boss, we take the horses to the gate, my mob usually camp about a day's ride through the bush. They're usually camped around the goorangoola, easy to track, just follow the water."

"Well Tommy, if you can spare a few days for us, I'll make sure everyone gets together a nice bonus for you. Think of it as a quest request from us."

Tommy's grin was split ear to ear. "Glad to help, Missus Boss, Tommy is best for mish!"

"Thanks, Tommy." Gwen gave him her best smile. "You're the best."

"Shuck!" Tommy laughed. "You embarrass me, Missus Boss! I'll let Mr Rhodes know."

Gwen returned to her friends with the good news. She was already thinking of a team-building exercise. A few mildly exciting encounters fighting roos and giant goannas should smooth the antagonism between Yue and Debs.

Tommy returned with more details once Rhodes had given him the thumbs up. The jackaroo mapped out a lovely picture of the Outback extravaganza. Once they’d exited the Singleton gate, they'd take the old fire trail through untamed Green Zones until they got to Goulburn Pass. With any luck, they should run into his tribe, south of Barrington, then Gwen could get some answers, and they would be back on the night of the thirtieth.

The girls squealed and gushed. An Outback adventure! Four days and three nights in the bush, camping under the stars! Fighting kangaroos and God knows what, eating bush tucker and building up their friendship. That was the stuff brochures advertised.

Ever the helpful manager, Rhodes offered to drop off the horses at the Shield gate by Singleton. All Gwen and the girls had to do was meet Tommy at dawn.

Having planned their activities for the next few days, the girls wanted to stock up on appropriate attire for four days of rough riding. Thankfully, Cessnock was having a Boxing Day Market. Tommy borrowed Rhodes' jeep and acted the girl's chauffeur.

At the market, the girls enjoyed themselves. This time, each of them had resources to spare. Elvia had LDMs and HDM given to her by her father, Yue was currently in possession of a small fortune, Debora was flush with cash from their previous roo expeditions, and Gwen was the benefactor of a sugary opa. Arm in arm, they roamed from store to store, building rapport through the ancient and revered female bonding ritual known as retail therapy.

The girls returned to Surya's by nightfall, where they shared a nip of sweet Moscato with the old Enchanter. After a few glasses, Surya queried Elvia and Yue about their families, curious as to the lineage of Gwen's closest allies. Elvia's heritage was within Surya's expectations, but it was Yue's lineage that truly surprised him.

"Your father is an Evoker with tier II Water, but you're tier V Fire?" Gwen's grandfather was shocked by the odds.

"Yeah, and my mother is an NoM," Yue declared proudly.

"That's… amazing." Surya raised his glass in a toast. "To beating the odds!"

Yue tapped Surya's flute and drank her fermented grape juice. Gwen watched the bottle like a hawk. After her last debacle, she wasn't going to give Debora or anyone another opportunity to get tipsy and handsy.

"That said, be careful out there. It's only the Green Zone, but call me if something, anything, goes wrong."

"Yes sir," the girls concurred.

Gwen capped off the busy night with a kiss for her grandfather, then they were off to prepare for their great Outback adventure.

At dawn, Tess drove the girls out on the four-hour-long journey to the Shield gate at Singleton. Gwen inquired about what had happened to that Wollombi Shield gate they had investigated, but the Apprentice knew scant more than Gwen herself.

"They're still looking into it." Tess avoided yet another pothole with a deft swivel of the wheel. "Who knows? The Tower usually takes care of these things. I can tell you the station is re-garrisoned, though."

Gwen glanced at the rearview mirror. Yue and Debs were getting along better now. They didn't make small talk, but they at least left one another alone. Elvia was napping away in the middle, her face as angelic as always. Hopefully, the trip could build some rapport between Yue and Debora.

When their car finally stopped, Tommy was already waiting with the horses. "Ready to go?"

The girls bid Tess goodbye and saddled up.

Tess produced a Lumen-Recorder and asked the girls to line their horses up.

"One, two, three—doggies! Beautiful! Have fun!”

True to his word, Tommy knew the lay of the land like the back of his hand. Even as they ventured off the main road, the jackaroo seemed well aware of their heading.

Quickly, the flat terrain of stunted shrubbery turned into rolling hills and vast, open prairies full of wild grass and early summer flowers. On a ledge, they watched a herd of roos, a hundred or more, hop across the sweeping plains like a school of synchronised fish. Yue wanted to immediately Fireball them, but Tommy stopped her, teaching her that these were not monsters but creatures of the land. He instructed the girls that they should only kill what they could eat, and that senseless killing was disrespectful to the Spirit of the nation.

Yue was disappointed but agreed to abide by Tommy's wisdom. She was a stranger to these lands, while Tommy was their host.

Past noon and past Yengo, the plains came to an end and the hilly rockscape of the Barrington Tops began. Unlike the tectonic mountains of Europe, these hills and valleys were eroded sandstone, flats weathered by the flowing of water, shaped by the aeons.

Riding through a gully, the girls marvelled at the wonder of the bush, its white-barked forests of gums and its verdant bursts of Waratah and Banksia. There were Blooming Dogwood as well, juxtaposing the Flame Trees that turned their surroundings into founts of blood.

It was late afternoon when they finally found the estuaries that flowed from the Tops. Tommy returned some half an hour later, relieved that he had discovered signs of his people's encampment.

By then it was getting late, and the girls settled in for their first night on the bush. After a supper of oats, spiced jerky, and buttery damper, the conversation turned to who would occupy whose tent.

"Let's draw straws." Gwen had anticipated a dispute and made moves to absolve the conflict. She felt no desire for Tommy to sleep out in the open while she or Debora took a tent for themselves.

"Okay, I am with Debs."

With sleep sorted, the foursome dimmed the Dancing Light. As their eyes adjusted, the sky came alive with celestial bodies burning bright.

"Tommy, can you tell us some stories about this place?"

Tommy gazed up at the stars dreamily, his expression unreadable.

"Sure thing, Missus boss." The jackaroo cleared his throat. "Long ago, in the time of the Never Never, before there was the Dreaming, the world was flat, bare, and cold. The Rainbow Serpent, Almudj, slept under the ground with all the animal tribes in her belly, waiting to be born. When it was time, she pushed up, calling to the animals to come from their sleep. She vomited forth the land, making mountains and hills, then scattered water over the earth, making rivers and lakes. She made the sun, the fire and all the colours. Our nation loves Almudj, because she is a great protector, bringing the wet season each year, allowing life to multiply, appearing in the sky as a rainbow. Our nation also fears Almudj, for she also punishes invaders."

"Thank you, Tommy, that was wonderful." Gwen's eyes refracted the Milky Way above. In the Outback, the sky was heart-achingly beautiful, so overwhelming that she felt insignificant, minuscule, irrelevant.

"Was that the serpent we saw during the Field Trip?" Debora asked.

"I don't know," Gwen lied.

Yue and Elvia also gazed upon the magnificence in silence, trying to picture a serpent sailing through the night-time sky.

Gwen spent the night brushing off a wayward hand that kept sneaking its way into her sleeping bag. Half-awake, she listened to Debora's muffled breathing, unsure if the girl was awake or if she was naturally a nocturnal grabber.

When dawn came, the insomniac sorceress, finally asleep, felt something tingly on her face. Drearily opening her eyes, she was met with Debora's face hovering an inch away, her amber eyes gazing longing into her own.

"Morning," Gwen said cautiously, not moving a muscle.

"I wish days like this would last forever," Debora muttered strangely, her voice full of melancholy.

Gwen didn't reply for fear of inciting Debora. Instead, she reached out and squeezed her friend's hand reassuringly. Debora's hair, which she had cropped around the time of the Field Trip, had astoundingly returned to shoulder length. In the dappled light of the early morning, her friend was uncommonly comely. It wasn't in the striking, exotic manner that made Gwen's appearance head-turning, but a wholesome, girl-next-door appeal that Gwen could never affect.

Gwen propped herself against the bedroll while Debora dressed in the cramped space of the two-woman tent. An Earthen Transmuter, Debora's toned musculature was well-defined beneath her honeyed skin. She compared it to herself and her visible ribs and reminded herself that she needed to eat more.

Gwen waited until Debora left before she changed, slipping into a long-sleeved cotton shirt, and her full-length riding pants. Emerging from the tent into the morning light, she buckled on her boots.

There was the delicious smell of sizzling bacon. Tommy was making breakfast, aided by Yue, who excelled in survivalist cooking thanks to Alesia's deadly culinary ineptitude. Together, the girls shared tea and coffee, then saddled up for the ride to the Indigenous encampment.

"Oi! Appa! It's me, Tommy Kuranga, how are ya?"

"Niiyalang!" replied an elderly man, "What's with the puk komans? You bringing migloo girls home now, Tommy?"

Gwen and the girls dismounted as they approached the settlement.

The word “settlement” was perhaps inappropriate, for there were a dozen humpies made from sticks and cross-hatched gum leaves, forming rudimentary burrows where one or two individuals could shelter from the sun or rain. Comparatively, some distance away, modern material tents replaced the traditional humpy.

The man Tommy had spoken to was every inch an Australian Aboriginal, as Gwen would put it, but he had on jeans and a red t-shirt faded by the sun.

As they strolled into camp, Gwen noted that almost all the residents of the settlement were wearing modern clothing. There was little sign of the tourism-brochure appearance that she had come to expect from her old world.

Feeling ambivalent, she attempted to rationalise the scene before her, realising the idiotic expectation brought by her subtle prejudice. Just because they were in a magical world didn't mean the Indigenous folks strolled around naked and in body paint.

"Good afternoon, sir. I am Gwen Song, and these are my friends, Yue Bai, Debora Jones, and Elvia Lindholm," Gwen spoke to the old fellow who had accosted their party.

Tommy discreetly led the horses away while Gwen introduced her and her friends.

"Ha! Old Jurangi is no 'sir'!" the old man hollered, studying the girls, his eyes lingering a moment longer upon Gwen than the others. "Call me Jura. That's what the old stockmen used to call me. You migloo are a long way from home!"

"I am sorry for disturbing the peace, Jura," Gwen replied respectfully. "I was wondering if it is at all possible to speak to your Spirit Speaker."

"Goolagong? You want to see the old lady?" His voice took on a tone of caution. "You want to malp kee'AN? Or perhaps you are more interested in the ngeen-wiy? No?"

Gwen blushed. "I don't understand what you mean," she confessed. "My apologies for the inconvenience."

Jura looked over at Tommy, who was brushing down the horses and unsaddling the camping gear.

"Well, I better get you mob settled then." Jura pointed to a clearing beside the rest of the camp. "Help yourselves."

Gwen led the girls over to the clearing and materialised their supplies.

Jura's eyes almost popped out of his sockets. "You migloo magic?" Jura spluttered, suddenly alarmed. "All of you?"

"Yue and I are Evokers, Debora here is a Transmuter, and Elvia is a healer."

Debora placed a hand upon the earth and incanted a Minor Stone Shape. The ground rippled and warped before flattening out. Likewise, she planted the tent pegs by wrapping the stone around the spikes.

"Ngench pekan!" Jura spat alarmingly. "Oooh, this cheeky Tommy! Bringing us trouble!"

Gwen watched the man stalk angrily off toward their jackaroo, proceeding to slap the young man on the head.

"Gwen," Yue questioned. "What's happening?"

"Are we unwelcome?" Elvia said worriedly.

"Yeah, we don't exactly share a nice history with these folk," Debora noted, observing Tommy ducking this way and that, trying to avoid the older man's slaps. "You know that we chased the savages out and took their land, right?"

Gwen nodded uncertainly. Old Jura had seemed perfectly fine until they’d started using magic. "Is there a taboo or something about modern magic?"

"I don't know about these days," Debora answered. "But when the Purge came through in the seventies, the Indigenous people were caught up pretty bad. It's all in the history books, Gwen, don't you recall junior high?"

"I was preoccupied," Gwen replied. She didn't even remember those classes. Yue knew about Gwen's family circumstances, but Debora did not.

The commotion seemed to have alerted the rest of the camp. Men, women and children all emerged from their tents to see what compelling drama was unfolding at the settlement's edge. In a few moments, the girls were surrounded by at least a hundred of the Indigenous folk pointing and speaking in their musical language.

Elvia hid behind Gwen demurely, hiding herself using her friend’s stature. Yue stepped up aggressively, as did Debora, who looked ready to fight. Gwen swallowed nervously as the gathering crowd came closer to inspect the intruders. She could see in their eyes that not all of them were curious while some, Gwen gulped, looked very much hostile.

Chapter sixteen

A Favourfor a Favour

"Oi! You mob! Hang off!"

Just as Gwen considered the merits of restraining Yue as to avoid a diplomatic incident, she was interrupted by a croak that silenced the murmuring crowd.

The group opened a path. From between the crowd, an Indigenous woman with the bearing of a fertility goddess emerged. She was twice the width of the girthiest of the men, with dense breasts that hung low against a portly stomach, naked but for a modesty shawl. Yet there wasn't a feeling of corpulence that one perceived when seeing a woman with three chins. Instead, there was an indescribable vitality. Her body was vivid with ochre markings and white lines.

The woman, Gwen figured, was Tommy's Spirit Walker, the tribe's Dreamer—Old Goolagong.

"Ma'am." Gwen placed a hand on Yue's shoulder. "Allow me to apologise. I hadn't realised the trouble our intrusion would bring."

"Pay them no mind, puk komans of the migloo tribe." Thankfully, Goolagong was well-versed in English. "They're young, bored and restless. There is little to do here but hunt and forage, meaning the mob often become greedy for excitement."

Old Goolagong turned to her people. "Go home! No more embarrassment for our guests!"

Muttering, the tribesmen dispersed.

"Allow me to introduce myself." Gwen made a courteous bow, the sort a Junior Mage would use to greet a Master. "I am Gwen Song, a student of Evocation. Here is Yue, likewise an Evoker, and Debora, a Transmuter, and finally, this is Elvia, our healer."

"Five for a mob, isn't it?" the Jura asked, looking around. "Not to mention Tommy is no migloo magician."

"Ah, we're here to broaden our horizons, not to quest."

The Spirit Walker glared at Jura, who looked guilty. "Honest mistake! We have trouble with migloo magicians on mish before. That is why you get eye."

Old Goolagong came closer. The girls could smell wildflowers and loam from her markings. "They say you wanted to speak to me. If you are not on a mish, what can old Goolagong do for you?"

"Well." Gwen summoned her courage. She couldn't speak about her relationship with the Almudj, but the Geas did not prevent her from asking about the Mythic from an entirely different angle. "I was very much interested in the history of the region, especially regarding the Rainbow Serpent."

Out of the girls, Elvia was the most articulate. She quickly explained what they had seen on the day of the Field Trip, about the rampage of the Rainbow Serpent in the Royal National.

"I see, I see." The woman chuckled.

Her gaze swept over the students, stopping at Debora. The Transmuter seemed to take note and hid behind the others. In Yue or Elvia, Goolagong possessed little interest, reserving the bulk of her attention for Gwen.

"You know Almudj?" Goolagong said. "I sense that the Dreaming is strong in you."

Gwen's blood grew instantly cold. Goolagong had better not accidentally triggered her Geas! Feeling her skin crawl, Gwen grinned awkwardly, then shook her head unconvincingly.

"Only from stories, ma'am," Elvia replied for Gwen, unsure why her talkative friend had suddenly clammed up.

"No matter. We talk in the shade." Goolagong motioned for the girls to move toward her humpy.

"I'd be glad to," Gwen replied.

The party followed, all except one.

"I'll stay here," Debora replied, her face a barely hiding her displeasure. "I am not feeling well."

"Are you alright, Deb? Was it something we ate? Motion sickness?" Elvia inquired puzzlingly. Gwen was also puzzled. Along the way, Debora had been the most fortified of them all. "Maybe heatstroke? I'll stay with Debbie."

"Alright." Gwen nodded at Elvia. "Debs, are you sure you're fine?"

"I am good." Debora shot Goolagong an unfriendly glare. "I just need to lie down a bit. You go ahead. I'll be fine with Evee here."

Gwen looked at Yue, who shrugged. Yue wasn't close enough to Debora to give a toss. Of greater interest to Yue was the bulbous woman with a gut-full of exotic stories.

"Okay. We'll be back soon," Gwen replied gently, giving Debora a quick hug. "Take care.”

Old Goolagong sat under the canopy of a humpy that barely reached her sitting height, appearing as though a female, earthen Budai.

"Please forgive the mob for their suspicions." Goolagong inclined her head. "They do not mean harm, only desiring that you leave us alone."

"It's my fault for not announcing our arrival," Gwen said. "If there's anything we can do to amend for our intrusion, please say so."

Goolagong's mouth opened to reveal rows of yellowing teeth. "Let's hear why you are here first. Jura tells me you and Tommy came to see me direct. You want to know about the Mother Serpent, Almudj?"

Gwen framed her questions very carefully. "Yes, specifically, if there are any stories of the Serpent being able to communicate with people. Like through dreams and such."

"Oh?" Goolagong's eyes made two half-moons. "Why would a migloo girl want to know about the Mother of the Unformed Land? Especially a magician with her European magic?"

"Academic reasons," Gwen lied, pondering the sensitivity of her embedded Geas.

"What do you know so far?" Goolagong asked instead. "How do you know Almudj?"

Gwen grunted. Now she felt the oppressive grip of the Geas distinctly weighing upon her mind, pulling at her heart. "Yue, I need you to hit me with a Flaming Hand, just a small one."

Yue looked at Gwen with an expression of incomprehension.

"Trust me. I know what I am doing. I need to show the elder something."

"Gwen, are you barking mad?" Yue's expression suggested she was questioning her sanity.

"Yue, please."

"Alright, I hope you got a health pot ready." Yue raised a hand. "Flaming Hand!"

A burst of flame erupted from Yue's hands, enveloping Gwen like the tongue of a malicious salamander. But just as the flame reached its target and began to scorch Gwen's clothes, a shimmer enveloped her body, manifesting a few millimetres above her skin. The flames washed over their intended target, but there was no yelp of pain, only a stink of carbon monoxide.

"Your sleeve is on fire," Yue observed drily.

Gwen quickly patted out the yellow flame. Her arm was unscathed, but her blouse was ruined.

A Message spell boomed next to her ear. "Are you alright? What was that?" It was Elvia, communicating directly across the camp via line-of-sight.

"We're fine, Evee, just testing out something." Gwen terminated the spell after reassuring her friend.

"Did you see?" Gwen asked.

"I saw," Goolagong said.

"What did she see? What did I see?" Yue asked puzzlingly. "That was Resist Elements, right? What's so strange about that?" Then her mind seemed to have caught up with her eyes. "Wait, did you even chant an incantation?" Yue looked over her friend. "But that's impossible. Are you an Abjurer as well? Gwen, what's happening exactly?"

Gwen turned her head, pulling back her hair to form a ponytail. Both Yue and Goolagong gazed at a shimmering scale now embedded at the base of her neck.

"A Magic Item? What does it do? Absorb Elements? Why fire specifically?" Yue yelped. "Did your opa make it for you? Bloody hell, if I had an Enchanter as a grandfather…"

Old Goolagong, however, had turned ashen, her dark face grey as the blood drained from her face. "You have met Almudj?"

Gwen said nothing.

"Now I see why you wish to Dream. You wish to speak to Almudj. That is fine, migloo magician Gwen."

"I do."

"But first, I would ask a task of you. If you do this for us, then I will share with you the Dreaming, and from your dream, you may speak with Almudj."

Gwen nodded.

"A Quest!" Yue instantly perked up. "I love Quests. What does it entail?"

"A monster hunt," Old Goolagong said carefully. "I fear it is a dark beast that—"

"We'll take it!" Yue's grinned from ear to ear. "Just point us in the right direction!"

Old Goolagong looked at Gwen, making sure she consented, likely confused the migloo was so eager to help. Gwen knew, of course, that Yue's intentions were as pure as they come. She wanted to fight, and that was that.

"A darkling beast," Old Goolagong continued. "We are troubled by Wanka, the greater Spider who lives upon the salt lake, whose barks echo through the night and whose children come to hunt us when we are weary and alone."

"Hold up." Yue's complexion paled. "Did you say Giant Spider Wanker?"

Gwen felt the same. A spider. She wasn't good with spiders, but Yue was on a whole other level. There was a time when they’d been at Yue's house, and upon seeing a common Huntsman on her roof, Yue had launched her mug toward it, showering the two of them with tea and ceramics. The Huntsman had escaped unharmed, disappearing into the roof. Yue had been so afraid that she’d insisted on her father driving her to Gwen's apartment to spend the night.

"Wanka, a Barking Spider that—"

"It barks?!" Yue's voice took on a heightened pitch. "Like woof woof?"'

"More like this…" Goolagong made a horrific sound akin to an angry wombat dry-humping a bush turkey.

Yue swooned.

"Yue, you gonna be okay?" Gwen held her friend upright.

"Sure." She steadied herself, her voice trembling. "What's a spider or two? Just burn it all down."

"So," Gwen turned back to Goolagong, "a favour for a favour?"

"For Almudj, yes." Goolagong's eyes met Gwen's own. "I, too, am interested in this connection you have. A migloo girl and Almudj; how strange, What could it mean?"

"I can't offer something else instead?" Gwen turned to Yue, who was already staring into the middle distance. "Crystals currency?"

"Do you see another magician around here?" Old Goolagong laughed. "You want an old lady to go and fight a giant barking spider? Do you think I could outrun its sixteen legs?"

"S-sixteen!" Yue's eyes glazed over.

"No no, we'll manage," Gwen said. She was confident that in a Green Zone, even a giant spider wouldn't be so excessively powerful as to be beyond tier V. More so, she was optimistic this Wanka creature was no match for Caliban and Ariel. "When do you want this done?"

"We can begin the ceremony tonight if you return. The salt lake is only two hours away by horse."

Gwen nodded. She begged for more details on the arachnid, but the old Spirit Walker had not seen it herself either. Her people knew only its whereabouts and some lore. From what Gwen could gather, it sounded like a giant Wolf Spider. "We need a guide for the salt lake."

"Tommy should know the way." Old Goolagong pointed to the young Jackaroo brushing down the horses.

The girls retreated to an isolated area of the camp. Debora professed to be feeling better, while Gwen informed them of her progress, giving each the choice of accompanying her.

Elvia agreed before Gwen even finished. Unsurprisingly, Debora wasn't thrilled. "It's not right," she said. "We shouldn't be helping these people."

"What's wrong?" Gwen asked, her voice more curious than critical.

"They're not a part of our society. These savages rejected our ways decades ago. They need to live with the consequences."

"A bit harsh?" Gwen was genuinely surprised. Was Debora a racist? That was certainly unexpected. Then again, Gwen thought back to their youth. Debora had consistently made fun of Yue's English when they’d been in junior high. She’d also called Yue a boat person when anti-refugee sentiments were trending. As a typical "Aussie", Debora lived on the south coast, and the folk there were very particular about "their" beaches, churches and suburbs.

"Not to mention." Debora bit her lower lip. "I heard they practice Necromancy."

Elvia's eyes expanded to reveal the full extent of her brilliant blue irises.

"That's Spirit Magic." Gwen had done her homework with her Master. "It's not raising the dead or anything. More like ancestral worship, storing memories in vessels, magic circles, animalism, that kind of thing."

Debora's expression told Gwen that she didn't believe a word.

"Debs." Gwen felt guilty for saying so, but she wasn't about to entertain the prejudices of Debora's misconstructions. "You can remain here if you want."

"No," she said quickly. "I'll come with. You guys need a Tank, right? We're a team now."

Yue and Elvia didn't disagree. It was Gwen who had announced that they were a team now, and it would have to be Gwen who rejected the ambivalent Debora.

"Agreed." Gwen reached out and gave Debora a reassuring pat on the knees, relaxing her jaw. "Think of it as a monster hunt, nothing more."

"Well, shall we get going then?" Yue asked impatiently. She was keen to see the spider roasted and done. Just knowing that a barking spider was near gave her the creeps.

Gwen materialised the girl's bandoleers, organising two healing potions and two mana potions, as well as a single vial of antidote per sorceress. Yue went and fetched Tommy, relieving the rough rider from the “mob” incessantly mobbing him for details on the girls.

As they travelled, the girls pooled notes on the nature of arachnid-based Magical Creatures. Gwen surprised the girls with her knowledge, explaining that it was implausible that a Barking Spider, even one with a name like Wanka, could be a web-dweller. "It's either an ambush predator, like the tarantula or the trap-door," Gwen said expertly, drawing upon her otherworldly knowledge, "or, in the worst-case scenario, a jumping spider. They are swift. My suggestion is that once it emerges, concentrate on limiting its movements."

Debora announced that her Spirit possessed tremor sense, which she could achieve by channelling a minor stone shape in a radius of a few metres around them. As for Gwen, she could discreetly cast Detect Magic and Detect Traps somewhere along the way.

The party arrived at the edge of the salt lake some two hours later. As the girls focused on buffing, Gwen refreshed her BB cream and took the opportunity to summon Ariel. Once her companions were distracted by the showman marten, she activated her detection spells.

With mana-charged eyes, Gwen then scanned the blazing white horizon, seeing nothing of note as yet. "Let's leave the horses with Tommy."

"No problems, missus, I take care of the horses."

As it was the dry season, the entire lake was encrusted with salt, forming a smooth white plain of desolation where nothing lived. Gwen was now even more convinced that the Barking Spider was a voracious hunter. If it lived in a place without prey, then it must be an active hunter. No wonder it fed on the Indigenous tribesmen.

It took another half an hour of wandering through the salt flats for Yue to discover a barely perceptible trail. "It's going this way," she announced. "Medium-sized prey, probably a roo. Looks fresh. The salt here is moved about pretty quickly."

The party followed the trail, except for Debora, whose body was doubly fortified by Earth and Transmutation buffs; the girls were feeling the moisture loss that occurred thanks to salt and sun.

"Halt." Gwen raised a hand as the girls drank from their canteens. She had felt her Divination tingle, and scanned their surroundings. Not far away, she sensed a trace of mana unique to Magical Creatures.

"Can monsters use magic?" Gwen inquired. She wasn't too confident if monsters used spells or merely manifested phenomenon directly.

"They can," Elvia chimed in. "Some monsters have innate magic."

Gwen felt another tingling in the air. She channelled more magic into her eyes, feeling the strain impressed upon her eyeballs. There were motes of Transmutation here and there, as well as motes of indistinct elemental mana.

"Elemental Air!" Gwen hollered suddenly. "That's why it's fine living on the salt flat! It's an Air Element Spider!"

Voo—VOOMPT!

As if answering her call, a sudden eruption of silk exploded all around them. A massive web, previously buried underneath the girls, tore through the cracked surface of the salt flat and enclosed them like a parcel.

"Minor Stone Shape!" Debora struck the earth, instantly summoning a massive dome of sand around the girls, creating an overhead barrier.

Yue formed a circular gesture with both her hands. "Wall of Fire!"

A ring of fire torched the space around the girls. Where the enclosing web touched its membranes onto the flames, it instantly ignited, leaving behind ash and foul-smelling gloop.

Thump!

A foreleg shaped like a scythe punched through the sand barrier, stopping only a few centimetres before Gwen's face. "JESUS CHRIST!" she screamed. "How strong is this thing?"

A whirlwind of salt began to envelop the girls, smothering the Wall of Fire with salt crystals. Before Debora could react, the limb withdrew from the wall.

Gwen tasted the magic in the air; the motes were thick with Transmutation. "I think it’s Hasted!" she warned the others. "Everyone, crowd around Evee in a triangular formation. Yue, shrink the ring of fire! Debs, I need you on your tremor sense! Focus on defence! Elvia, Bless and Aid! Give me a jolt of healing in ten seconds!"

The girls moved into position as the whirlwind of salt obscured all vision.

"Ariel, fire at will. Caliban, get underground!" Gwen commanded. She felt her vitality drain as her Void fiend shrouded itself with secreted mucus and wiggled underground, coiling its body like a spring. A few seconds later, Elvia's jolt of vitality flooded her conduits.

"Are we waiting for it to strike?" Debora shouted over the roar of the salt storm.

"Yeah!" Gwen shouted back. "It’s too fast. If we don't alpha strike it, it’s probably going to flee."

"I'll play bait! I am sure I can handle a hit or two."

"Wait and see," Gwen advised.

"What about me?" Yue asked. "This wanker is too fast!"

"Wanka," Gwen corrected her friend. "Use Scorching Rays on its legs. Try to target as many as you can. Warding Bolt! Call Lightning!" Her persistent spells targeted indiscriminately, but hopefully, they could be triggered quickly enough to slow down the Barking Spider.

Outside the sand barrier, the salt storm began to subside. The girls knew that if the creature was to strike, it would be very soon. The question was, from where would it come?

"GGGNNARK!"

There was a roar—a crude, inhuman bark, an indescribable howl of guttural rage uttered by an arachnid, using its chitin to vibrate the air.

"Here it comes!" Debora announced the tremor from a distance. "Four o'clock!"

There was an explosion of sand some fifteen metres out, then a giant white mass, too fast for the eye to follow, descended upon the Blackwattle party.

Chapter seventeen

Shortcomings

Wanka moved like mercury slipping through air.

Debora's hands met in the middle, causing her sand dome to expand. Gwen did her best to track the spider, but before she could utter a second warning, it landed on top of the semi-dome barrier, its salt-encrusted body bypassing Yue's Flaming Wall with only a fistful of singed hair.

With the sound of screeching metal, its forelegs descended once again. This time, Debora's Transmutation was far too slow to adapt to its supernatural velocity, Debbie was apt, but she was no Abjurer.

In the blink of an eye, Gwen spontaneously activated her Abjuration shield. With repeated use, even her stolen talent was reaching the tier of a sufficiently awakened Sigil; the only things she now lacked was tenacity, strength and formal education.

Wary of what might happen to her friends if she used Void, Gwen evoked her lightning, manifesting her non-Newtonian barrier, feeling her mana reserves deplete.

CLANG!

There came the sound of a violent collision, followed by a blinding flash of mana congealing where the blade-like legs struck.

Crack! Fractures split the snow dome, shielding from edge to edge. For now, Gwen's Shield held, but for how long they could not know.

"Fuck!" Yue swore, echoing Gwen's thoughts.

"Shield of Faith!" Elvia wasn't an Abjurer. Her shielding spells were underpowered, but right now, every layer helped.

Debora's sand finally caught up, but Wanka effortlessly extracted its limbs from the grip of her silica. The Transmuter howled with frustration. Her control was still insufficient; she required higher tier spells to snare the beast. "It's too quick!" Debora wailed. "Shit!"

Gwen felt her Warding Bolt and Thunderstorm both fire, but the Air Elemental Spider was highly resistant to lightning.

Gwen's mind spun. Debora's sand was too ponderous, her lightning was ineffective, and Yue's fire was too slow to get a good hit on the sixteen-legged spider.

"If we can hold it still…" Yue concentrated on maintaining her Wall of Fire.

"We need to slow it down somehow," Elvia yelled.

"I am going to Flashbang it!" Gwen shouted. "Directly on top of us. Deb, I need hardcover for the party!"

"Nine o'clock!" Debora preempted the attack by gathering up the sand around them to form a dome. "Here it comes!"

Gwen watched the sand creep over her mana shield, enclosing the girls in a semi-sphere of darkness. At the last moment, she reached out and conjured through her Evocation Sigil an over-channelled Flashbang spell.

BUNG! A muffled blast erupted.

There was the sound of something scribbling on the surface of the sand shield, then Gwen's shield shook. Debora grunted as she held her barrier, withstanding the shockwave rippling over its surface, flaking off pieces of sand and revealing the glassy mana dome below.

Something thrashed wildly somewhere distant from their position. Debora collapsed the sand shield with a wave of her hand, revealing a white blur of blades and limbs the size of a combine-harvester.

True to Goolagong's word, Wanka was a spider with an extra set of limbs. Its armoured body erupted in white bristling hair, flinging salt this way and that as it spun in circles, lashing out with its forelimbs. From a safe distance, they could see that it had four retractable limbs which lashed out with scythe-like forelegs. Every time it attacked, the legs punched or pawed the air, like that of a mantis shrimp.

Two bolts of lightning, one from the conjured cloud and the other from Gwen's warding bolt, lashed out overhead and struck the beast squarely, showering the spider with sparks. It spun and oriented itself towards the girls.

"Flashbang!" Gwen front-loaded a sonic explosion directly before the creature, motioning for the others to shield the eyes. Once again, Wanka thrashed and spun.

Gwen recalled that Wolf Spiders felt for prey with sensitive hairs on their forelegs, likewise, relying on their incredible vision. If so, her Flashbang must be a hell of a sensory overload.

"That spell is such a cheat," Yue stated wryly. She moved her hands and cut loose the mana she had spent the last few turns gathering. "Scorcher!"

A total of six rays shot out from her hands, slicing into the blurring white mass. There was a scream of pain, then two limbs flew from the panicked spider, one skittering and rolling away while the other was flung violently through the air.

"Flashbang!" Gwen shot another spell as the girls held their ears.

"That poor spider." Elvia looked away. "It's in so much pain."

"Fireball!" Yue shot off her best spell, watching the small dot of fire zoom towards the spider. Upon impact, the spell’s collated energy lashed out, rapidly expanding until it reached its maximum blast range. The force of the blast was enough to rip off a whole section of the spider's chitinous carapace.

"Wait up." Gwen halted Yue before she could fire off another blast. "Caliban needs to feed."

They watched as a lump of soil moved underfoot towards the spider, now skittering weakly, too damaged to escape. There was a wet sound as Caliban emerged under its abdomen. With a crunch, her creature pierced through Wanka's carapace, invading its body.

The spider's legs shot out with an expression of indescribable pain as a parasitic netherworld worm dug through its guts in search of Creature Core. There came a second thunk! Then Caliban broke free from Wanka's face, its serpentine form steaming with ichor and purple bile.

"Shaa! Shaa!" it announced satisfyingly.

"Holy shit, Gwen." Yue hadn't seen Caliban in action before.

Elvia's turned pale. Debora half-choked on a warning when a sudden tremor beneath them sent the girls off balance.

The vast white expanse of the salt flat suddenly cracked, tectonic plates of salt shifting and moving as something huge began to break through the crust.

"Fuck!" Yue dropped to her knees, losing balance. "What the hell is that?"

"Jump!" Gwen grabbed Elvia by the waist. "Now!"

Debora instantly reacted; she hadn't worked with Gwen for a month without building at least some rapport. She tackled Yue at the waist and activated her Jump spell.

The two girls, each with a companion, leapt away from their standing positions. Gwen activated Feather Fall on her ring and used her an incanted Feather Fall on Elvia. Conversely, Debora used her Jump for horizontal movement and dashed herself and Yue some ten metres away from where they had stood only a moment before.

A set of forelegs three metres in length extended from the broken salt. Gwen winced and looked down. She was bleeding profusely because one of the claws had nicked her calf. When the pain finally travelled up her nerves, she almost fainted. Her left leg was a mess where Wanka had cut her to the bone, exposing the white tendons still connecting her muscles.

"Elvia!" Gwen called out. She wasn't sure how she would react. Their present engagement was the first time she had been wounded in a battle with a monster. She couldn't even imagine what would happen if they didn't have a healer.

Below her, the sudden vertical movement had disorientated Elvia, but Gwen's sudden cry of alarm jolted her from her confusion. Placing both hands on her friend's thighs, the petite Cleric incanted her best spell. "Cure Moderate Wounds!"

A gush of Positive Energy channelled through Gwen's body, instantly stitched her wound, mending the flesh and inflicting her with an itch that was impossible to scratch. She moaned. The pain and itch were exquisite. Caught between two extremes, she didn't know whether to scream or cry.

By then, she knew her Warding Bolt and Call Storm had fizzled.

Some distance away, Debora was coughing up blood. She had used her body to shield Yue, tanking the kinetic energy of Wanka Two's rebar-like forelimb. Only now did she realise a claw had bitten her Bronze Flesh, possibly cracking her collarbone.

Conversely, Yue had been sent skidding half a dozen metres, disorientated but safe.

"Fuck, the small wanker wasn't Wanka!" Yue shouted at the girls, stating the obvious. "This big tosser is Wanka! Wanka TWO!"

Gwen meanwhile, still had ten or so seconds of airtime. Below her, the spider was trying to pull itself from the encrusted earth. From the fissures, she could see that it had made a tunnel system beneath the salt lake, constructing its lair somewhere deep and terrible.

Within the scope of her Detect Magic, the creature's mana signature burned. It was tier VI, or at least at the apex of five. The smaller spider must have been its mate. Gwen felt a kink of fear wrecking her spine. If they didn't kill it here, they could all die!

"Debora!" Gwen called out. "Immobilise it! Don't let it get out!"

As the spider's head emerged, Gwen dropped her Signature Spell in front of its sixteen scintillating eyes.

"Flashbang!"

BUNG!

The creature shrieked, but her spell was visibly less effective. The bigger the monster, the better its resistances.

"Shape Earth!" Debora grunted between ragged breaths made more painful by her bruised body. Sand quickly filled the space where it had tried to scramble up from the earth, preventing the creature from breaking through the crust of salt.

"Yue!"

Yue poured the rest of her mana into an alpha strike. "Fucking Firestorm!" she screeched forth her most potent Evocation, making a motion that mimed the pushing of some great force towards the earth.

Above the behemoth spider, a swirling cloud of fiery tempest formed and began to rain down streaks of hissing fire, stabbing into the trapped Wanka. The spider's bristling hair was immediately alight, sheets of encrusted salt sliding off its carapace from the impact, exposing its chitinous shell beneath.

"Ariel!" Gwen commanded, and the sliver mongoose fired a blast of barbed lightning into the Wanka's face. A second later, the spider's bulbous body grew vivid with crawling electricity, electrocuting its target.

"I can't hold it!" Debora cried out. She was almost OoM, her glistening skin white with encrusted salt. Unlike Gwen, she had not undergone a nutrient-rich diet of crystals and Wild Land beasts to boost her reserves.

"I am almost out as well!" Yue's face was dripping with salt and fatigue. She had barely reached tier IV, meaning her fire variant of tier IV Ice Storm overtaxed both her mind and her still-developing body.

"Lightning Blast!" Gwen attempted a coup de grâce.

Wanka Two ignited. Dozens of lightning bolts channelled one after another into the thorax of the spider. The first few were guided by Ariel's bristles towards its eyes but danced over the carapace harmlessly. The next few fared better, penetrating deeper into the spider, wreaking havoc upon its nerves.

Smoke began to pour from Wanka Two's face. If spiders could scream, it would probably be shouting incoherently right now.

"Haa—ha—" Gwen panted, likewise dripping with perspiration.

CRASH! Wanka broke free.

The girls' screamed, Gwen included.

Ariel made a heroic dash for the creature, but it was too slow and too small. Wanka shot straight toward Gwen and Elvia, its bulbous body a mass of salt-encrusted hair, its legs blurring as it raked against the earth, breaking through the salt and finding purchase on the rocks beneath.

"Caliban!" Gwen sent out a mental command before calling for help. "Elvia! I need vitality! FILL ME UP!" Next, Gwen wrapped her arms around Elvia, crouching to minimise her profile. "Void Shield!"

Gwen had never made a non-Newtonian Void Shield before, though now that she did, she felt instantly hollowed out. With a supreme force of will, she kept herself awake. They had overestimated themselves. As a party, they were still too inexperienced. They had no Abjurer, and they had no Flight. Their talents had made them too arrogant and they were going to pay the price.

The truth was, a party of synergised Mages with Flight and Earthen Shielding would find no trouble with Wanka. They could tank it, they could kite it, they could grind Wanka to dust. Comparatively, Gwen's party had two glass cannons, two summons who couldn't tank, an off-tank, and a healer who has yet to learn AOE healing. They had insane damage output, of course, but if the first strike should fail, what then?

Gwen felt dull thuds striking her Shield.

In her arms, Elvia moaned as her life energy drained away, stolen by the connection between healer and Void Mage.

Dizzy and disorientated, Yue watched helplessly as the semi-sized spider barrelled towards her friends. She was out of mana and felt a helplessness that she had never experienced when she was with Alesia.

She could see Debora caught in a sudden panic as well. Debbie had said that she could be their tank, but reality had proven her insufficient and ill-equipped. Transmuters could do many things, but they could not fill the irreplaceable role of the Abjurer.

Then suddenly and without warning, Gwen transformed into a semi-sphere of darkness, drinking in all light.

Wanka itself seemed to realise the horror it was imminently facing. It tried to halt its momentum, but it was too fast, too heavy and too committed to its own brazen, rage-filled charge.

The girls watched as the creature skidded, limbs akimbo, then barrelled into Gwen's Void Shield. Its sword-tipped arms scraped the surface but made no sound.

It was eerie. There was the sound of Wanka's limbs crashing against the salt, but where it struck the Shield there was only a silken silence.

The impact was worse than Gwen had thought. She felt both her mana and her vitality drop like a stone down a deep, dry well. Had Elvia not been here, she would have likely fallen unconscious, her body acting to save itself from the consumption.

Her Master was right. The Void Shield was too dangerous. It was a mash-up of antithetical abilities and synergies.

Even if she won, it would be a pyrrhic victory of old, winning a battle by a hair's breadth. But what if her foe survived? Would a weakened, drained and devastated Gwen be able to continue to protect her Evee?

But luck was on Gwen's side. Now bereft of its sword-tipped forelegs, Wanka Two had lost its speed and agility.

"Urrrnk! Hurrrrnk!" The spider's mandibles moved insanely, making that sound which Old Goolagong had said was an angry wombat humping a cockatoo, or was it a kookaburra?

"Caliban!" Gwen called out again, hoping to God her Lovecraftian companion had made it.

The spider tried to orientate its body but grew grossly unbalanced by the loss of its limbs. Compared to Wanka One, Wanka Two now appeared ponderous and slow.

Gwen watched the ground beneath it crack open to reveal Caliban, a dark dart against the white salt. With an audible crunch, her Familiar punched into the abdomen of the second creature.

It was over. Gwen gasped. She and her friend only needed to survive for the next fifteen seconds or so.

Elvia's sacrifice had restored at least half her vitality. As Caliban made its way through the creature's innards, Gwen felt another hit of vital energy fortifying her trembling body.

"Debora! Pillars!" Gwen called out to her companions. "Evee, hang on! Jump!"

Gwen's miraculous survival filled her party with renewed energy. As commanded, Debora placed her hands upon the now shattered salt lake and incanted, erecting dozens of pillars to obstruct their foe.

Wanka seemed to know that its life would soon be forfeit. Something was slowly but inevitably making its way up to its cephalothorax, obliterating its organs as it went. When it reached its Core, Wanka, Queen of the salt lake, would be no more.

The spider charged at the girls, pushing past the pillars. Its massive body crashed and tore through Debora's barriers like paper. Drawing on a second wind, the girl fought back with Magic Missiles and cantrips, Gwen forcing out a few more Flashbangs to try and slow it down.

Then, mid-strike, the spider halted. All its limbs gave out at once.

There was a wiggling of the carapace around its head. Gwen felt her Kirin amulet grow hot.

"Shaa! Shaa!" Caliban triumphantly emerged, its purple body glistening with spider ichor and gore. It was utterly engorged with Wanka's life force, its obese girth glimmering gluttonously.

"Good work, Cali!" Gwen hailed the creature as it leapt from the carcass.

Ariel slunk before Gwen expectantly.

"You too, buddy!" She stroked Ariel's fur as it purred, turning over and over.

Caliban approached and began to convulse.

"Oh God, what's it doing now?" Elvia swallowed the vomit rising in her throat, her face a mask of fascinated horror.

With a sticky hurling motion, Caliban spewed out two Mana Cores twice the size of a fist.

"Oh!" Yue reached out to take a Core. "Fingers crossed for SPIDER SPIRIT, YO!"

The girls held their breath.

Nothing.

There was no Spirit inside.

Yue tried the second Core.

Nothing.

The triumphant atmosphere instantly grew cold. Debora's luck of the Irish aside, the odds of finding a Spirit was near-impossible.

"Still, a Core this size, at least two-three hundred HDMs?" Yue appraised their loot expertly. They’d talked a lot about money during their jungle adventure, especially adventure spoils. "They usually shatter, you know. Good work, Caliban!"

Caliban wiggled disgustingly.

Gwen touched the amulet beneath her blouse. As before, out of the corner of her eye, she recalled something moving from the carcass towards her. The mirage appeared to dissipate halfway, leaving only a vague, benevolent feeling of warmth. She would have to question someone about the charm someday, Gwen realised. But her father seemed to know nothing about it and she doubted he would have given it so freely had the lazy Morye known of its boon. What would Opa think? He had said nothing when she had worn it openly. Did her Kirin amulet appear to others to be a non-magical object? Merely a keepsake?

"Pop them in the bag," Yue said to Gwen. Gwen did as Yue asked, stowing the Cores in her Storage Ring.

The girls watched Yue go over to the spider and began to hack off its limbs.

"What are you doing?" Elvia inquired, her blue eyes wide and innocent.

Yue extracted a length of crystalline flesh as thick as her arm from a split leg. "Fuck yeah," she sang. "This wanker's a real beauty."

The girls could see she was salivating.

"…" Gwen agreed. Wanka was a giant Hokkaido deep-sea crab, wasn't it? Waste not, want not.

Debora looked like she was about to hurl. She was strict meat and three vegetables kind of girl. Elvia, conversely, never in her life had imagined that a “land crab” like a spider could be edible.

"Crab party!" Yue announced cheerfully, presenting the legs to Gwen one by one. "You got more room in there?"

Gwen nodded. She had enough room. She also liked to eat crab.

Chapter eighteen

The MiglooGhost

Tommy was waiting at the edge of the salt lake for the girls to return. The smile on his face froze as he took in the girls' bedraggled state.

"How was it?" he asked. His Missus Mages had left as cool as cucumbers and returned beaten within an inch of their lives. "Did you find Wanka?"

Gwen's right boot had been slashed in half, her leather riding pants ripped beyond repair. Debora's tank top was torn and shredded, a smidgen of blood dashed across her chin and chest. The other two girls were worse for wear as well.

"There were TWO wankers." Yue was too tired to bother differentiating between annunciations. "The second wanker ambushed us."

Tommy made an “o” with his mouth.

"All good." Gwen walked over to her horse and rubbed its snout. "We nailed them both, got their Cores right here." She raised a hand and flashed her nondescript ring.

"That's wonderful!" Tommy uttered, a broad smile appearing on his face. "I knew there was no way Wanka could stand up to you, Missus Boss."

"Well, let's get back. I could do with a lie-down," Gwen intoned with a distinct lack of vivacity. Even with Elvia's Positive Energy supplements, she felt drunk with fatigue.

The journey back to the camp was sullen and silent.

"I am sorry, everyone," Debora disrupted the silence when they saw the camp in the distance, her voice uncharacteristically demure. "I wasn't a good defender. I endangered all of us."

"Don't be like that, Debs. You did your best. We couldn't have done it without you," Gwen said. "You took a hit for Yue. Not to mention you kept us safe from the Wanka One just fine."

"I overestimated myself." Debora exhaled. “Considering that failure, I now know why every team needs an Abjurer."

"Yeah, we need to find a proper Abjurer for the five-versus-five." The rawness of Yue's criticism turned Debora's shame a shade darker.

"Yunnie," Gwen raised her pitch an octave. That was rather rude even for Yue.

"What do you think, Elvia?" Yue tried to shift Gwen's ire elsewhere, but their companion remained silent.

The girls rode in silence until they reached the camp, where Old Goolagong was waiting for them.

"Welcome back, I'wai, heroes of the tribe. I sense you were successful."

"We almost died." Debora dismounted. She turned to face Old Goolagong with an unfriendly expression. "Did you know there were two of them? What were you planning? Did you hope we'd die there?"

"Debora!" Gwen warned her friend.

"You shouldn't trust them!" Debora seemed far more hostile than her usual self. Before they could answer, she fled towards their tent in a huff.

"Is Debs hale?" Gwen asked Elvia.

The little girl nodded. "I healed her earlier. Debs had a minor fracture in her shoulder and severe bruising. She's fine now."

They watched Debora zip up her tent with sullen violence.

Gwen didn't know what to think. How uncharacteristic. Debora wasn't acting like the happy-go-lucky girl next door she knew. It was a facet of her friend she had never seen before.

"I told you she's a racist. Remember? I told you as early as junior high," Yue groused vindictively. "Remember her favourite Asian jokes? The ones about us eating dogs?"

Gwen and Elvia looked at Yue. That would have been a far more convincing argument if she hadn’t dismembered Wanka.

Gwen opted to forgo riposting Yue's accusation. Instead, she calmed her friend by placing a hand on her shoulder. Gwen felt older than the girls, her temper less prone to wild assumptions and snap judgements, and that it was her duty to keep the peace.

Thinking of Debora, Gwen felt that the athletic late teen wasn't so much a racist as one who was under a lot of undue stress. As an armchair psychologist, she would suggest that Debora suffered an inferiority complex. In failing to deliver the same performance as Yue, she looked to blame Goolagong.

But Gwen didn't feel right indulging Debora just because she was feeling down. The girl needed to grow both as a person and as a Mage. What good was a powerhouse who couldn't control her temper? She’d just be a danger to herself and others.

"Leave her be, Yue." Gwen patted Yue's legs. "We're not all built the same way. Walk a mile in Debora's shoes sometime and I am sure you'll come to understand her frustrations."

"Hmmph!" Yue grunted.

Old Goolagong pursed her lips. "We begin ritual at nightfall, get a nice big bonfire going! We make corroboree! But first, let's get you settled into some bush tucker. Nothing like it in the cities."

"Alright!" Yue rubbed both hands together. "I got some bush tucker for you folks as well."

"Gwen," Elvia pulled at her sleeves, "should I go check up on Debora?"

Gwen shook her head. Feeding into Debbie's wants only empowered their misery. In Gwen's experience, it was better to let girls get over it on their own, then praise them for their wisdom in achieving a change of heart.

"Let's go." Gwen hooked her hand into Elvia's elbow. "I've heard interesting things about bush tucker. Let's see what they have."

There was a stacked and smoking bonfire when the migloo magicians arrived at the corroboree. The girls watched with fascination as tribesmen painted the dancers with meticulous care.

Gwen was hoping to see some authentic bush magic but was disappointed when a lanky Indigenous man produced flint and tinder and sparked the woodpile. He gave her the evil eye before leaving to join the others, evidently distrusting of migloo magicians.

"I wasn't sure what I expected." Gwen looked around awkwardly when Old Goolagong asked her.

"Why make magic when rocks will do?"

Gwen shrugged. Why indeed.

The older women in the camp made dinner while the younger women served. As guests, Gwen and the group didn't need to participate in the making of supper itself. Yue, however, dug a cooking pit for herself.

"The one thing Debbie is good for and she's not here," Yue commented sardonically. "Typical."

Gwen and Elvia said nothing. Sometimes, only silence was golden.

Yue quickly arranged the wood into a hollow pile. "Conjure Flames." She moved her hand this way and that, carefully controlling an arcane flame to char and dry out the wood.

"Can't you cook directly with magical fire?" Gwen asked.

"Tried, tasted like crap. There's just something about elemental fire that ain't right."

The girls watched as Yue stirred the wood until the charcoal smouldered. "Pan please, and butter. All the butter, garlic too."

Gwen materialised them and handed them over. They watched the butter sizzle in the pan. A crowd of the locals also decided to venture over to see what she was doing.

"Crab please."

Gwen materialised the bundle of “crab” legs. The Indigenous folks’ eyes grew large at the size of the “seafood’. It would be a rare treat for them, their home being so far from the ocean.

Yue roasted the legs first to burn off the hairy bristles, watching the shell turn a vivid red. With its mystical energies gone, the carapace easily cracked, the juicy flesh expanding as it cooked. She then sliced off generous chunks of aromatic white meat and sizzled it in the butter, sending out a delicious scent.

Gwen drooled.

With the first pan of Wanka de garlic was served, dinner began in earnest. The irresistible scent of “crab” flesh drew the locals from far and wide, lining up around the girls for a slice of the rare treat. In exchange, they brought bush tucker—bushels of bush tomato, cucumber and sweet berries that had an acidic zest. Others brought sweet potatoes and other unnamed root vegetables, which made a lovely addition to the meal.

Old Goolagong poked at her generous portion of flesh with suspicion. "What is this? I never imagined sea creatures be so large!" she muttered to herself. She placed a chunk into her mouth and savoured the taste. "Wonderful." She allowed the sweet flavour to roll over her tongue. "What do you call this?"

"Wanka." Yue waved a section of the empty carapace in the air. She'd found that it was easier to directly cook the flesh in its shell by smothering it in butter, achieving an extraordinary crispy layer that crunched indulgently with buttery oil.

Old Goolagong dropped her plate. "Shit!" she stammered alarmingly, her eyes bulging. "You're eating a greater Spirit of the Earth?"

"We." Yue smiled innocently at Old Goolagong. "We are eating a Magical Creature. Not Earth, by the way—Wanka was an Air Element. Can't you feel it in the flesh? It's fluffy and light."

Old Goolagong looked conflicted. She had never wasted food; it was a matter of respect. Timidly, the Spirit Walker tried her best to eat her portion, her tongue greasy with guilt and trepidation.

Gwen wasn't fussy herself. If there was one thing she needed after a Caliban session, it was copious amounts of food. There was her ethereal hunger of the soul, which hungered for sustenance of the Spirit. Then there was the physical hunger, which sought nourishment from nature.

With dinner done, it was time for the metaphorical main course.

Old Goolagong gathered the girls next to the bonfire. Already, the beginnings of a corroboree were in process. Patiently, she explained that the dance was a language, a law, a story and a place; it was all these things and together, it was the Dreaming.

"We will sing the song of Almudj, Singing the Snake, and it will come to visit you in the Dreaming."

"Right." Gwen nodded.

"Well, off with it." Goolagong gestured to Gwen's chest.

"With what?" Gwen inquired innocently.

Goolagong pointed to her impressive nakedness, gleaming with a sheen of dark sweat between the risen moon and the flickering firelight. "Glyph, markings, magic words to send Almudj to you, migloo girl!"

"Aw, hell yeah!" Yue slapped Gwen on the buttocks. "Get DOWN, girl!"

"Oh." Elvia blushed flamingo pink from her dimples to her collarbones.

"Seriously?" Gwen blanched and burned.

Goolagong nodded.

Gwen looked at her friends expectantly. Thank God Debora wasn't here.

"I need to keep my… private garments on," Gwen said flatly. That was not up for negotiation, not with her friends and the tribe here.

"Your choice. Don't blame me if Almudj dismisses you for a rock." Old Goolagong shrugged. "You migloos, all that talk and bluster."

Gwen began to remove her top, three pairs of eyes staring intently. "Do you guys have to gawk so much?" she inquired. Even her navel was blushing.

"It's for your good." Yue bit into another length of crab leg, chewing loudly. "Keep going."

"Oh. My. God." Elvia covered her face adorably, peeking out between her fingers. "Gwen, you're as white as snow!"

"She's the whitest migloo I've ever seen," Goolagong noted, her brows wiggling like two caterpillars fighting for dominance on her face.

Gwen could see that her ghostly paleness had brought curious eyes from all over. Thankfully, they weren't interested in her nakedness. They were taken by instead by her ethereal visage.

"A Spirit!" someone cried out in alarm in the distance. "There is a migloo ghost!"

Gwen didn't know whether to laugh or cry. With one pull, she removed her singlet like clotted gauze. She preferred to get it over and done with rather than suffer the indignity of Yue's running commentary that followed each item of clothing. If Yue had had dollar notes, she would have probably offered one to Gwen.

"Jesus, Gwen!" Yue suddenly cried out, the “crab” leg stopping at her lips. "Girl, you need to eat!"

Gwen was now down to her undergarments. The girls could see her very modest bust, but it was Gwen's ribs that shocked them, for they were obtrusively visible under her pale skin, as were her hip bones.

"Fuck me, you're a skeleton," Yue blurted. "I've seen you eat, how’s that possible?"

"It's the Void Magic," Elvia said quietly.

"I know how powerful your Void Magic is, but Gwen, you gotta take care of yourself!" Yue uttered in dismay.

Gwen nodded. Before she’d awakened, her body had been skinny but athletic. Now she looked as though she had gone through a string of obsessive crash diets. Her waist was so thin that it made Elvia's torso seemed full-bodied.

"Is that an effect of the Void spells as well?" Yue poked Gwen's stomach, where her skin was like a sheet of ivory, shimmering in the firelight with a pale nimbus.

"I think so," Gwen replied. Being quarter-Chinese and one-eighth Indonesian, she should possess a natural tan. Now she burned at the slightest touch and had to avoid direct sunlight. She felt like an Eastern European vampire. Gwen thought about Elizabeth. No wonder they thought she was one of the undead.

"You migloos ready? The moon is going to sleep soon!" Goolagong vocalised abruptly. She had prepared the paints—the salted red pigments, the white ash, the dark amber, the yellow ochre, the orange blossoms collected from wildflower stalks. Now all these girls wanted to do was talk! "Skinny is skinny, at least you haven't starved to death. It happens, you know, when the land is dry. Come, migloo girl! I need to put some colour on you before my mob thinks there's a Spirit in their midst."

Gwen presented herself for Goolagong's inspection. Her legs were okay, having retained their feminine shape. The worst of it was when Yue whistled lasciviously, giving her flashbacks to Kwan's party.

"Well, looks like your body's nutrients head downstairs before it fortifies up top," her friend noted expertly. "Double the butter!"

"I think it's a matter of vitality, not fat," Elvia added.

Gwen took off her boots and felt the softness of the red earth under her feet, its particles of fine, dried clay shifting between her toes.

"Alright, let's begin." Goolagong dabbed her fingers into the pots of pigment and began to colourise Gwen in the Sigils of the Dreaming. The dyes weren't slimy, as Gwen had anticipated, but powdery. Goolagong first dappled on the sap of a plant Gwen could not name, then began to draw intricate patterns over her thighs and her stomach, making her way across Gwen's body.

"That needs to go," Goolagong said drily.

Gwen was already numb with embarrassment. She obediently removed the last vestige of civilisation from her torso.

Goolagong continued. Gwen's arms were painted and dotted to represent her body's ley lines, channelling the Spirit towards her heart. Her torso became spotted with two lines of ochre with a red line bisecting her bosom, curving around the swelling of her breasts.

"You two, come here," Goolagong commanded, telling Yue and Elvia to put their hands into the white powder. "Slap! Like this!"

Goolagong slapped Gwen's thigh, leaving behind a ghostly white handprint.

"HA!" Yue slapped Gwen on the bottom, twice, leaving behind two ghostly hands.

Gwen gritted her teeth and held back from kicking sand in her friend's face.

Elvia was kinder than the mischievous Yue. She gingerly placed a few handprints on Gwen's stomach, her thighs and her back, uncontrollably blushing as she performed her duty.

"Finishing touch. Almost done!" Goolagong said finally and went to work on Gwen's face.

The old Spirit Singer's fingers blurred, dabbing Gwen's brow, her cheeks and her neck with markings that spoke of her pure spirit, of her desire to seek counsel with Almudj, the great serpent mother of the land.

"Done!" Goolagong exclaimed proudly, examining her work. The migloo girl looked the part at least, if one ignored her glistening white skin. "Now go dance, go join the corroboree."

"I am sorry, what?" Gwen had thought she’d heard something entirely impossible, like being asked to dance naked while covered in Indigenous markings.

"Fool girl! You are Dreaming! Not dreaming!" Goolagong laughed. The old woman pulled herself up and took Gwen's hand in the process. "Come!"

Her friends’ eyes were gleaming.

"What do I do?" Gwen was still covering her breasts with her hands.

"Follow the music; just move!" Old Goolagong laughed, moving her arms and following the music without apparent effort. "Let it come to you!"

Gwen slowly moved her hands from her chest and tried to follow the music. She stumbled here, wobbled there, flaying her arms urgently with graceless, incoherent fumbling.

Even Yue was embarrassed by Gwen's gangly display, driven to tears by her exhibitionism. Elvia's expression was likewise between sympathy and cringe, her face caught between the theatrical masques of tragedy and comedy.

Gwen felt the tempo rise along with the temperature.

There was a sense of dizziness that began to replace her self-conscious nakedness.

Round and round the corroboree went, circles within circles.

There was a sudden clap.

"Kapi! Kapi! Kapi!" uttered old Goolagong, slapping her thighs.

To her surprise, Gwen followed suit with the rest of the dancers, not missing a beat.

"Kapi! Kapi! Kapi!"

The didgeridoo reverberated, the chanting sticks striking a staccato beat. The world around Gwen became less defined, the edges of figures above and below blurred.

"Kapi! Kapi! Kapi! Kapi! Kapi! Kapi!"

There was the sound of thunder.

Gwen was now covered with a sheen of white sweat, sweltering in the yellow firelight, her perspiration soaked into the markings upon her skin. They seemed to glimmer, burning with colour, becoming more vivid, pronounced, more striking with every move.

A sudden fermata.

A pause.

A lull in the movement.

"It comes! Almudj comes to Dream!" cried out old Goolagong. Gwen crumpled, exhausted from the dance, breathing heavily, the swell of her small, white breasts panting for air.

Yue and Elvia listened with fascination as thunder rolled across the sky. There was a green glow in the distance, then a cascade of colour washed over the cloudless heavens.

"Where did that come from?" Yue looked at Elvia, who had no answers for her.

"Look there!" Elvia pointed toward the sky, her own eyes gleaming with anticipation.

They lifted their chins and saw a scintillating, brilliant Aurora Australis unfolding across a backdrop of the Milky Way. The gathered crowd observed the scene before them, agog with awe and wonder.

Cradled in Goolagong's arms, Gwen began to Dream.

Chapter nineteen

Thunderstruck

Almudj!

The rainbow
see it take wing
on the wind
filling the rivers and gullies
and billabongs;

Almudj!

see it bring
all life
in the valleys
its life
fills the dry earth

Almudj!

see it bring
all life
sleeping, dreaming

Almudj!

Kin!

Gwen opened her eyes.

The cobalt sky was so blue it hurt her eyes.

"Kalinda!" Old Tjupurrula lay against a tree, his skin covered with spirt-patterns that guided the lifeforce within his body, signifying his place as the Singer of his tribe. "Go and sing, let the snake know."

Gwen moved her lithe and athletic figure over the red clay. She watched her long legs effortlessly cross the distance, space disappearing as though she was gliding. She raced across the scorching earth, barely touching the smouldering sand.

She entered a cavern, her bare skin glad to be resting on cold volcanic shale. The was a pool there, its waters crystal in clarity.

"Almudj! Almudj!" Gwen heard herself call out.

A serpentine head appeared from the pool, formed almost entirely of crystalline water. It began to materialise, becoming more distinct with each passing second. There was a flicker, the blink of an eye, and Gwen was looking upon the familiar face of the Rainbow Serpent, the very one she had encountered at the Royal National, in a cavern not too dissimilar from this one.

"Oh, Almudj." Gwen felt herself kneel. She opened her arms and noted in the reflection that she was entirely naked, her skin wet with sweat that had soaked into the lines of Spirit Glyphs adorning her bosoms, her stomach, her arms and thighs. Her face as well was crowded with Glyphs that allowed her to commune with the mother serpent.

The serpent's head floated closer, its forked tongue, as thick as her arm, flickering faster than her eyes could follow. When Almudj tasted her skin, she felt the coldness of its pink appendage taking in her scent, revelling in the warmth of her hot, sun-flushed flesh.

Gwen opened her arms, the serpent moving its head toward her. She pressed her body into the side of its enormous head, feeling its dry, warm scales that had the texture of fingernails, watching them shimmer and shine with a rainbow's hue.

"Kin!" A voice inside her head gave the scent of a brewing storm. "You are safe?"

"I am safe, Almudj," Gwen replied in a voice that was her own and not her own.

"You are weak. You are hollow." There was the smell of rotting gum leaves after a summer squall.

"I missed you so much, Almudj." Gwen heard herself reply to a conversation that existed out of sync and out of time.

She attempted to speak, but her dream persona said nothing. She was merely borrowing the memories of another.

"Usurpers come!" Gwen felt such disgust, as though thrust into the rotting mud of mangroves.

"Impossible. Tjupurrula said they could not come here! They couldn't get past the ley of the Dreaming!" Gwen's alter persona uttered with naive disbelief.

An explosion rocked the cavern, broken slabs of shattered shale falling from the ceiling, peppering Gwen with shards of dagger-sharp fragments. A wayward stone sliced into her forehead, releasing an arterial spray of blood all over Almudj's shimmering scales.

Her Glyphs of dreaming were despoiled by the blood, breaking the flow of mana between each symbol. With the severing of her connection, Gwen felt as though ripped untimely from a womb.

There were figures of men and women in cowls—Mages, shouting incoherently at the cavern's mouth. Another spell rocked the cave; someone had altered the structure of the cavern's natural supports and the roof began to collapse in earnest.

There was no pain, only a feeling of falling as darkness overwhelmed Gwen's alter ego. A sudden rage filled her, a fury so primordial that she felt her skin split and the magma blood within flow out in molten chunks.

Outside, the ground split, the heavens roared, the earth shook.

Old Tjupurrula roared with laughter, even as the last of his life's blood flowed into the red earth.

Kapi Kapi Kapi

Almudj had awoken.

Almudj did not like strangers; it is known.

Almudj will attack strangers.

Yue and Elvia watched Gwen's body suffuse with a viridescent shimmer, indicative of the atmospheric phenomenon they had just witnessed. The Glyphs glowed as well as her body, nude but for the paint that provided questionable modesty. All she had was her underwear and her Storage Ring. That and an ordinary necklace she had worn since the start of their senior year, only now, it was no longer mundane. The jade Kirin seemed to bathe in the green stream of energy that shimmered over her body, glowing with a dim, benevolent light as it went about its mysterious function.

"That's Positive Energy, life force, Essence." Elvia did what she could to clarify the phenomenon.

Gwen moaned. Her friends watched without words as her body suffused with new life. With every pulse, her limbs grew supple, her breasts grew full, and her complexion regained some of its natural colour. Their friend was still anorexic and diminished, but at the very least, her health appeared restored.

"Shit, if I’d known you could get bigger tits just by getting a paint job and doing a nuddy dance, I'd be in my birthday suit in a second," Yue informed Elvia. "Evee, I think you just missed a once a lifetime opportunity."

Elvia placed a hand on her petite bosom. She certainly had not begun the day expecting to go full-frontal.

"How about that, huh? Gwen told me it was from her dad."

"The amulet?"

"Oi, she's waking up!" Yue pointed as the sorceress stirred, pushing herself from the red sand. She seemed disorientated though; her bodily movements were gangly and awkward, more akin to a marionette.

"Almudj?" Old Goolagong did a double-take. "That's impossible! Gwen's a migloo!"

The Spirit Walker had seen possessions before; it wasn't that uncommon. In her tribe, Spirit Walking was a good omen, demonstrating that the serpent liked a particular Singer. A possessed body meant that they had an opportunity to directly commune with Almudj, to plead a cause or to ask for a boon.

There was another instance when Almudj could possess a Singer. That was when the tribe was under attack and the Spirit Speaker had to invoke the taboo request for the Mother Serpent to bring death upon her enemies. She was reminded of the old Yirriti saying, 'The Snake is proper cheeky. It will attack invaders. It will return the bodies of the invaders to the earth.'

Old Goolagong had never performed that dreaded rite before, but she knew an angry primordial Spirit when she saw one.

“Baardanginy woort koorl! Woot koor!" She cried into the night, alerting her tribesmen, she then turned to the girls. "Run! Run as far as you can!"

As if to demonstrate her point, Goolagong scrambled on all fours, abandoning the girls as she dug her heels into the red dirt, fleeing faster than a whipped dingo.

The two girls regarded one another.

"Did she say run away?" Yue asked puzzlingly.

Elvia never had a chance to reply, for she felt the sudden gathering of mana within Gwen. It wasn't the skin-tingling electricity to which they were accustomed. What they felt now was something bigger, something far older, something that etched into the land and the sky.

"Run!" Elvia grabbed Yue and pulled her aside.

Gwen raised an arm and pointed her hand toward some distant target. The girls followed the vector of her long, elegant finger.

"Debora?!" Yue's eyes were so round as to be throbbing. "What the fuck did Debora do to Gwen?"

"Debbie!" Elvia's scream rang through the night, a piercing trill of nightingale lost in the dark distance. "RUN!"

"BARBANGINY!" Gwen called out to the heavens, and there was a distant thundering despite the clear, cloudless sky.

There was no commotion from Debora's tent.

"Shit!" Yue cried, her chest filled with conflicted emotions. She didn't like Debora, she wanted her to go away, but she certainly didn't want Debora to die. "She's not going to make it!"

Elvia could do nothing either. She just hoped that whatever was happening, there would be enough of Debora left to heal.

A crash of thunder rolled across the sky; a tidal wave of sound that seemed to crack the heavens itself.

The gathering mob watched in horror as a blade of green lightning, scintillating and glowing with multicoloured hues, ionised from thin air, as though sent down from the Milky Way itself. It instantly struck downwards, towards the area where the girls had set their tents, where Debora was presumably still sullenly sleeping.

There was a pinpoint flash as the lightning connected, then an explosion. A shockwave rippled through the epicentre, violently pushing away the red dirt in an expanding ring of dust.

Humpies became uprooted, boulders the size of human heads rolled. All vision became choked by dust and a reddish haze.

"Debora!" Yue expanded her Flame Barrier. Her shield was a wet paper bag against pinpoint attacks, but she was at least capable of holding back a blast wave. Explosions were her bread and butter, after all.

Elvia fared better beside her. She could generate a Shield of Faith—a self-replenishing shield spell that was composed by those capable of channelling from the Positive Plane. The incantation served as an alternative for non-Abjuration casters, having greater strength, resilience and regeneration than the average Mage's shielding incantation. The cost was horrendous mana-drain.

Following the explosion, Gwen seemed to regain her senses. She reached behind her head and pulled out a shimmering something. Yue and Elvia observed her falling to her knees, gasping and panting as the dust cloud roved over, swallowing the duo with a carpet of debris.

"Debbie!" she called out, forcing her body to move. "Yue! Elvia! Help Debora!”

Gwen felt the last mote of life fade from her alter ego, crushed by the fallen chunks of shale. She felt the anger of Almudj like a rising tide, like the tectonic movement of the earth. As a force of savage nature, Almudj burst forth from the cavern, its scales shimmering and refracting violently in the hot gold hush of noonday sun.

There were Mages—invaders and usurpers, fleeing before Almudj like ants, throwing ineffective spells that cascaded across its scales.

Almudj's rage reverberated, cascading towards every horizon. There was a glimmering hue of chartreuse and lime burning in the atmosphere, bright enough to be visible in the light of day, then a burst of Aurora Australis burst through the heavens.

An emerald storm swept the shuddering earth.

With the ejaculation of the first blast, she felt the consciousness of Almudj fall from her cognisance. For a moment, she had taken on the skin of the serpent, felt its frustration and anger. With the release of all that pent-up energy, she had shed that skin and regained her mind.

That was when she saw an emerald shard slash through the night and strike the area where the girls had their tents.

"Almudj, no!" she cried shock and horror overwhelming her in an instant. "Debora!"

"Invader!" a voice cried out within her mind, boiling with seething anger, the smell of bushfires thick and heavy as it spoke. "Usurper! Kill it!"

Even semi-conscious, Gwen instinctively knew what she had to do. She reached behind her neck and dug a finger into the scale embedded there. Both willing it to dislodge and gripping the gift with her fingers, she ripped the thing from her neck.

The disconnect came suddenly and violently. Gwen felt as though she had been severed from the world. At once, she fell from somewhere warm and filled with light into icy darkness.

In the distance, the thunderous fulmination landed.

As a Lightning Mage, she knew how much power had gone into that blast. It had far exceeded her capabilities; it was a force of nature, not conjured from the Elemental Plane of Lightning—it was a manifestation of old creation when the land was young.

"Debbie!" she called out, forcing her body to move. "Yue! Elvia! Help Debora!”

By the time the girls had reached the site, there was naught but a smouldering crater two metres wide and half a metre deep. The sand and silica beneath had already become glass, mangled and hideously molten.

The camp was gone. The tents were vaporised, shredded, torn to smithereens.

"Fuck!" Yue uttered in disbelief. "What the fuck just happened?"

"Gwen?" Elvia approached, lowering her shield. "What happened to Debbie?"

Gwen couldn't answer her friends, not coherently, not at that moment. She still couldn't believe what had just occurred. Did she attack Debora? Had she called that lightning?

No, that was not Gwen. That was Almudj.

Yet, it was Gwen who was accountable, nonetheless. She had brought the girls there. She had wanted to speak to the Spirit Speaker. She was the one who had endangered them.

And now Debora was dead? Just like that?

Gwen felt a chilling wind freezing her all over despite the shimmering heat still hanging over the air. She was sticky with the cold sweat of disbelief. She wanted to rewind the moment, to redo and reload the last minutes of her surreal reality.

She dug her hands into the earth, still hot with the bombastic energies of the blast. "Debbie," Gwen began to wail. "I am sorry, I am so sorry."

"Fuck!" Yue couldn't believe her eyes either. Did Gwen just blast Debora to kingdom come? Did her friend just murder their non-mutual friend in cold blood? For what reason?

"Gwen." Elvia's tears were bubbling from her luminous blue eyes, falling over her face like a string of pearls. It had happened all too fast for her to comprehend rationally, but she understood the immensity of the traumatic moment with dreaded clarity. "Debbie…"

"Jesus Christ!" A voice exclaimed behind them, ascending from a lower section of the plateau, "What the hell happened here?"

"Debbie died!" Elvia's words escaped her quivering mouth before her eyes could accurately register who she was seeing.

Debora was dripping wet from head to toe, her toned silhouette covered with a layer of red dust that plastered to her skin like clay.

"I died? That's news to me," Debora answered, water dripping from her face. "I was taking a dip at the billabong there, and there was this sweet Aurora, then a huge blast shook the camp so I came as quickly as I could."

Yue regarded Debora with mixed feelings. She had to admit, when it came to it, she preferred Debbie alive and Gwen un-traumatised.

The girls turned to regard Gwen, who was striking the earth and bawling her eyes out, howling incoherent cries of grief toward the heavens. "Debbie!" she screamed with a pitch that struck their ears with a ringing tinnitus.

Good God! Gwen exhaled. She had never felt so exhilarated to see someone alive and well. Leaping from her kneeling position, she ran towards Debora, arms and legs akimbo.

Yue and Elvia watched Gwen embrace Debora bodily, hugging her so hard as to press her own body onto Debora's.

"What's happening?" Debora still seemed to be somewhat confused. She looked as though she was about to protest Gwen's motives with a little teasing. Then Gwen pulled Debora close and squeezed the words out of her lungs. Gwen violently kissed Debora's still wet forehead.

"Whoa, hello!" Debora struggled to break free, grappling against the softness of Gwen's unexpected gift.

Gwen pulled herself back, wiping tears from her face.

"See, I told you guys you shouldn't be doing primitive magic with these people." Debora placed a hand on her waist and struck out her hip critically. "Look at Gwen. She's butt-naked crazy."

Then Debora's jaws fell through the floor. She just realised that beneath all that body paint, Gwen was in fact in a state of complete undress, her modesty preserved by naught but the thinnest layer of cotton.

Without resistance, Debora leaned in for another hug, resting her chin on Gwen's shoulders, smearing Gwen's paint across her face.

Yue and Elvia felt a tingle of awkward discomfort.

Elvia watched Debora's arms fold over Gwen's perky buttocks and wrap around her narrow waist. She didn't like that Debora was taking such liberties just because she almost died. After all, she didn't even get injured; it was all a misunderstanding.

"So what the hell happened?" Yue was more interested in why Gwen had suddenly turned a green and psychotic.

The rest of the village returned to the fold. From the expressions of shock and fury, they did not approve of her actions. Gwen had disrupted a consecrated ritual. The corroboree was a sacred rite telling the land’s rules and history, stories and legends. Now, these migloo magicians had once again destroyed their home, disrupted their camps, interrupted their Dreaming. Without the corroboree, the bora ring, the encampment would be prone to invasion by the evil Spirits of the night. They would find no peace, only more displacement and uncertainty in the Green Zone.

The girls backed away from the gathering mob, now seething with a wave of dark anger.

"I think we better get the hell out of here," Gwen heard Yue mutter beside her. "Are the horses still alive?"

"Tommy?" Gwen incanted into a short-range Message spell. "Tommy, are you safe? Loudly whistle if you are!"

There was a loud whistle from not far away.

"Whistle twice if the horses are alright. Otherwise, we're leaving on foot!"

There were two shrill whistles.

"Alright, to Tommy!" Gwen grabbed Elvia and the group began to make their way towards the edge of the forest escarpment. The tribe silently glared as they escaped but choose not to pursue in fear of retribution from the migloo Mages.

"Dancing Lights." Gwen summoned some visibility once the girls were a safe distance away from the now destroyed campsite. Tommy soon reached their sides with the horses. To their surprise, Old Goolagong was with him.

"What… what happened?" Gwen questioned the old Spirit Speaker as soon they were close enough to speak. "I felt the serpent take over my mind for a second. It was so angry, so overwhelmed with grief."

Old Goolagong shook her head. "Can you tell Old Goolagong what you saw in the Dreaming?"

Gwen materialised the serpent's scale in her hand. She had stowed it in her ring after the incident. She couldn't just dispose of it; after all, this was three months of Opa's work, even if it did bring on something that had overwhelmed her ego briefly. Against Almudj, her mind had been a gum leaf caught within a whirlpool, borne away into the vast psyche of a being far older than herself.

"Missus Boss," Tommy intoned with the utmost respect, his eyes bulging from their sockets and his dark face several shades redder. He licked his cracked lips respectfully, taking in the moment as best as he could, burning it into his memory. "Would you like Tommy to lend you a shirt? I know it's hot, but you butt naked, your migloo skin def get burnt come sunrise."

Gwen spun and ran a distance before materialising a pair of shirt and shorts, slipping into them with haste, heedless of her grimy body paint. She returned with a face smeared with faint hues and rubbings, her white shirt a technicolour of earth.

"I saw… Kalinda? Someone was called Old Tjupurrula? They were in a cavern. I think Tjupurrula was tired. He was resting outside. Kalinda went into the cavern. There was a pool, Almudj came, then there was an explosion. Mages came, they collapsed the cavern, then Almudj was angry as Kalinda died…" Gwen blurted out the entire ordeal without pausing for breath. She too wanted to know what the hell had just happened.

Old Goolagong didn't seem to have the answers she was looking for; she was instead as cryptic and mythical as ever. "Almudj will attack strangers," she replied. "It knows a usurper when it sees one." Goolagong turned to regard Debora.

"Oi, fuck off with your Necromancy," Debora snapped back. The girls sensed Earthen Mana Channelling through her as the sand around them began to swirl. "This old bitch is trying to blame it on me now, Gwen. She's trying to blame her dodgy magic on you. I told you they couldn't be trusted."

Gwen placed herself between Debora and Goolagong. "Debbie, calm down, please."

"No, this has gone on long enough. I am sick and tired of this bullshit. If you want me to leave this old witch alone, promise me we're leaving right now. We're going back to civilisation and leaving these savages to their own miserable fucking lives."

"Alright, Debs," Gwen promised with a sigh. "We're leaving." She bowed. "I am sorry, Goolagong, I don't blame you. Please forgive us for ruining your encampment and disrupting the corroboree."

Old Goolagong glared at Debora but spoke instead to Tommy. "Tommy, take care of the guests, take them home," she commanded, turning to Gwen. "Thank you, Gwen, who sings of Almudj. Remember that Almudj is your friend, it is kin, not enemy." She stressed the final word.

Debora looked as though she was about to launch a catapult spell towards the old Spirit Speaker.

They watched Old Goolagong disappear over the hill.

"Good riddance," Debora spat distastefully.

Tommy said nothing. Gwen didn't blame the young man. It was how Mages treated NoMs, not to mention people from the Wildlands.

"This way Missus Mages, we need plenty of lights for night travelling. We make for highway, maybe get picked up from there faster."

"Alright, Tommy." Gwen touched her face, feeling the caked dirt in the fine sediment of the red earth. "Let's go home."

She still had the New Year’s party to deal with, the monster that was her mother to be slain. Her mare gave its harness bells a shake, for there were many miles to go.

Chapter twenty

Until Dawn

The journey at night proved as troublesome as the girls had anticipated, having to fight off dingos, Wargs, and even a giant wombat on the prowl.

Though the girls were in no danger, Debora tearing a scamp limb from limb and Yue reducing fauna to chunks of smouldering meat proved to be too much for the horses. In the end, the girls resigned themselves to setting up camp and waiting out the night, only now bereft of tents and sleeping bags thanks to Gwen's bolt of emerald lightning.

Debora again came to the rescue, using her Minor Stone Shape to create clay shelters, going as far as to fabricate a bathroom and a showering area.

Tommy took up guard duty as the girls showered, cleaning off the grime and dust soiling their clothes. Gwen used her Conjuration to summon water for the girls while they showered under the makeshift shelter.

"Don't feel bad about what happened, Gwen," Elvia said from within the stall. "I am sure it was out of your control, something to do with the Spirit of the serpent or the strange ritual. Besides, Debora's safe. We can all put this behind us when we get back to the city."

Gwen handed her a towel, the tiny blonde girl wiped herself down carefully, though the act itself attracted the ever-present red dust.

Yue was next; she didn't seem too affected by Debora's near-death encounter. Instead, she seemed more annoyed with Debora's display of vitriol. "Gwen, I know you think you owe Debs or something, but that's bullshit, alright?" she harshly whispered as Gwen kept up the reservoir. "Seriously, I don't mind her on the team, but if she's going to disrupt our teamwork, she should fuck off. That migloo is not a good fit."

Gwen said nothing as Yue hung a towel around her neck and walked out of the stall brazen as anything, making Tommy pine for the bush.

"What did Yue say to you?" Debora winsomely inquired when it was her turn, lathering her honeyed skin while Gwen stood one wall away.

"Nothing in particular," Gwen lied.

"Hey, I don't blame you for that accident. It's the fault of those savages."

"Please, Deb, that was me. I was the one who contacted the Spirit."

"Bullshit. When did any of our magic ever screw up like that? Our spells always worked as intended, no chaos, no stupid possessions, no random effects. I am sure of it, Gwen, don't blame yourself."

Gwen averted her eyes when Debora stepped from the cover of the stall, soapy as anything.

"Join me? You can summon the water from in here too."

Gwen shook her head. "Sorry, Debs. Not now."

Debora shrugged. She returned to the shower and washed herself off. When she’d finished, she likewise slung the towel around her neck, facing Gwen with a full-frontal silhouette. "Gwen, come here."

"Wha—"

Gwen met Debora over the barrier.

With a swift motion, Debora leaned in and kissed her full on the lips.

"Debs!" Gwen snapped back. "No! I am still dirty!"

"I don't mind." Debora pressed in. "Dirty is good."

"Debora Jones. No." Gwen shifted the timbre of her voice. "NO."

Debora shifted sulkily, her face a mask of displeasure, her brows furrowed in frustration. "Why not?" the girl asked, her voice full of hurt.

Gwen wondered if she should just tell it to Debora straight rather than waiting for her to acknowledge the truth. The girl was getting far too aggressive. She took a deep breath but was interrupted by an interjection from Debora.

"You know what? I don't want to know." She waved a hand at Gwen, moving away still half-naked. "Goodnight."

Gwen breathed a sigh of relief. She entered the now muddy shower stall and tested its integrity. In the reservoir, she conjured a stream of water into the indent in the ceiling, watching it flow into the tin bucket. Of all the girls, she was the one with the direst need for a pleasant drizzle.

She began by washing away the paint and grime, feeling the dissolution of the pigments under the strain of flowing water. They pooled at her feet with a rainbow hue, each dye distinct enough in density and particle to remain platonic even in an ankle-deep puddle. The cold water felt good; even at night, the Outback was hot and sweltering. Gradually, she fell into the momentary zen of shower thoughts.

Her hand moved toward the back of her skull, where the absence of the scale still stung. Without it, she felt incomplete. With a flicker of her finger, she materialised the item in question. In her hand, the scale shimmered alluringly with a scintillating reflection, scattering the moonlight.

"Kin," Almudj had told her.

"Almudj is kin, not enemy," Old Goolagong had said.

Gwen pulled back her hair and envisioned the scale once again attached to her neck, an extension of her own body. Warmly, Almudj's gift kissed her skin. Instantly she sensed a feeling of affection, a wordless joy. She felt connected to something bigger, older, something benevolent and motherly all at once.

"Kin." Gwen cupped the last of the water and offered it to the night, letting it run through her fingers, watching it displace over the red earth.

The Conjure Water spell dispelled while Gwen was distracted by her thoughts, the cessation of the flowing stream disturbing the lull of her midsummer dream. Without words, she stood in the stall, dripping with droplets that caught the moonlight, painting her silver.

She ran a hand between the modest swell of her white breasts, feeling the pronunciation of the ribs that jutted out underneath them. Her hip bones too were protrusive to the touch. Despite the undeniable toll of her Void Magic, she felt revitalised. Was her renewed vigour a gift from Almudj? Gwen had no doubt it was. The evocative feeling of kinship was undeniable.

Gwen towelled herself off and slipped into another pair of clean shorts and singlets. She walked barefoot towards the girls, finding a space between Debora and the others.

Debora had nothing to say to Yue. Yue, likewise, was too stubborn to make good with Debora. Elvia sold herself as Switzerland but decidedly favoured Team Yue when a conflict ensued.

"Can we talk?" Gwen asked them.

The girls murmured their agreements. As a gesture of goodwill, Debora materialised stone benches for them by moulding the smooth sandstone beneath the soil.

Gwen produced bottles of refrigerated beverages, still half-frozen, from her Storage Ring. She passed them out.

"You all mean a lot to me," Gwen began, her eyes scanning over the girls one by one. "But after senior school, we are going to go our separate ways. These next six months are potentially going to become some of our best memories."

"We have the Inter-High competition before us. A competition that, as you know, is supremely important to me. It is also important for you guys in that it will determine your university offers. Your career tracks. If we can demonstrate our skill and talents, it will serve as a far stronger application than any result we can produce at the final Government accreditation exams."

"So, I ask you guys, as your friend and as your teammate, to please put your differences aside."

The delivery was more for Debora's benefit than Yue's or Elvia's. Yue had her apprenticeship with Alesia, and Elvia had Medical school.

The girls murmured their agreements.

"Pretty please?" Gwen put her hands together and made a begging motion like a praying monk. "For my sake, for all our sakes."

"I'll do it!" Elvia extended a hand toward Yue and Debora.

Yue took Elvia's hand. "Sorry, Deb. Let's work well from now on."

Debora too extended her hand, and the three of them exchanged awkward handshakes. "Likewise, I am sorry for my outbursts. I'll try my best from now on," Debora replied, her eyes glancing at Gwen.

"Thanks, everyone," Gwen intoned appreciatively.

"There's still three hours until sunrise. Who's keeping watch?" Yue asked.

"I'll do it. You guys get some shut-eye. I am wide awake right now," said Gwen.

Debora shaped some more shelter, within which the girls slept on their towels.

Tommy was already asleep, sprawled out against a tree in-between urine-scented grass marked by the horses. The mental pressure of resisting a peek as four lady bosses strutted about in various states of undress had been too much for his hot-blooded mind to bear.

Gwen turned to the silhouetted horizon and meditated. Her consciousness turned inwards, examining her Astral body, observing her collection of Sigils.

Evocation glowed the brightest.

Conjuration a close second.

Then Divination.

Transmutation.

Her Abjuration Sigil was still dim, but there was a noticeable difference since she’d started to use Shield regularly.

The gate of her Void element shimmered darkly.

Her gate of Lightning blazed and crackled, only it was brighter somehow, more vivified. Curious, she channelled her Lightning mana. Once its power struck her conduits, she was in no double that her Affinity had increased.

Caliban!

Instinctively, she knew her Void fiend was the culprit. The Void creature had consumed the vital energy of two Wankas. Both beasts had been heavily enchanted, their Cores overflowing with elemental Air, and Air was one of two Prime Elements that made up Lightning.

Did this mean that she could level up her Affinity for Lightning by consuming Air Elementals? Would she need to find an equivalent source of nourishment in those with the Positive Energy trait? That would be impossible. If she consumed benevolent Lantern Archons, the Church and the Tower would put a sizeable bounty on her head.

Still, if her hypothesis was correct, did it mean that she could also come into possession of other elements? With a little reflection, Gwen realised the answer was no. She was confident that she’d felt nothing when Caliban had consumed the land shark. It was already a miracle that she could tap into two.

Her Master had a unique talent of tapping into all four Primary Elements, but Henry was one in a million. If asked to create spells of pure water or fire, Henry would struggle to perform his channelling with a practical level of efficiency. Thus far, she had never heard of anyone possessing two Elements.

Then there was that emerald lightning that Almudj had used as well. It was unlike anything she had cast herself. How could she tap into that hidden power?

Gwen thought about the three months ahead. She would have to make a decision very soon. To train in Abjuration would mean she had a viable shield. She could protect Elvia and or Yue, act as their Tank.

To train in Divination meant she had better awareness of the battlefield, maybe even Scry on enemies from afar.

To train in Transmutation meant she could focus on self-buffs, eventuating in Flight at tier III.

She could also empower her Evocation spells, try to hit tier IV and gain access to more destructive incantations.

Finally, she could perfect Conjuration, develop new attacks for Ariel and Caliban, or focus on fortifying her persistent effect spells.

The dilemma was that she only had time for one of these things, and she had to maximise her time investment. For the duration of her watch, Gwen pondered her options, playing scenario after scenario over in her mind.

Then, without warning, the indefinite horizon became a thin white line. A red-gold disc rose, dispelling the lustrous purple blackness of the softening night. The silver glow of the moon warmed, waning in intensity, replaced by a honey-coloured diffusion that soothed the distant horizon. The limestone ridges kissed the shining treetops, setting fire to the once dark bush.

Even as a frequent traveller of the Outback, she felt shaken by the majesty, caught in the glory of the wide, brown land.

"Thanks, Almudj.” Her words flew into the wide blue yonder.

The girls were soon roused and ready for the journey ahead. Gwen used her long-range Message device to contact Rhodes and the ranch-owner arranged transport for the girls back to Surya's estate.

It took half a day to reach the highway and another six hours from the Shield gate. It was late afternoon when they arrived at Rhodes's ranch.

Upon parting with Tommy, Gwen collected in a small pouch a good handful of LDM crystals worth a thousand or so dollars for the jackaroo. He tried to decline the offer, but Gwen wouldn't have it. "You deserve it, Tommy," she said sympathetically, hugging the jackaroo. "You did so much for us, and all we did was sour your relationship with your folks and put you in danger. More than anything, I should be apologising to you and asking for your forgiveness."

"You are too good, Missus Boss," Tommy replied, his voice cracked from gratitude. "Come back and visit anytime, you know where Tommy is."

"I will, Tommy, take care of the horses!" Gwen gave Tommy a peck on the cheek, watching him return to the other drovers on the ranch and smiling as they punched him.

Rhodes then took the girls home, asking them about the trip.

The girls had nothing but praises for Tommy.

"Yeah, right. I reckon he was just scared shitless the whole time." Rhodes was more than pleased. "I'll let the boy know he'll be getting a raise, courtesy of you being his referee."

He stopped for a chat with Surya before he left.

The girls made their curtsies to the old Enchanter and rushed for the showers, far too fatigued to remain for small talk. Gwen, however, stayed with her grandfather, sharing her knowledge of the event.

"Good grief." Surya swallowed uncertainly. "Turn around."

Gwen turned, collecting her hair in one hand.

Surya placed a finger on the scale affixed to her skin and incanted a command for the item to loosen itself. It refused to budge. He pulled at it with his fingers, watching it tug at Gwen's skin. Gwen cried out when the discomfort became unbearable.

"That's interesting." Surya scratched his beard. "I feel like the scale has fused with a part of your skin. I could remove it by force, but it doesn't seem harmful in any way. I've only seen this in Legacy items."

Gwen begged Surya for more details.

"It's like this," Surya explained. "Very rarely, an item has been in the family bloodline or passed down from generation to generation or survived such cataclysmic magical ordeals that they gain a special kind of bond with its users. The Japanese Mages had a specific term for them, which they call Tsukumogami, applicable to tools or enchanted heirlooms.

"The effects differ, of course, but a common fact is that these items become more powerful as the user grows more powerful. They possess the ability to imbue boosted effects onto future generations of users."

"Does this mean the scale will grow more powerful as I attain higher tiers of magic?" Gwen moved to the edge of her seat, the risen octave of her voice betraying her anticipation.

"I don't see why not." Surya smiled, tapping the scale gently. When her opa touched it again, Gwen moaned, feeling as though someone had poked her insides. "Oh, dear." She moved a little distance away. "Thanks, Opa."

"And your story." Surya scratched his white beard. "I wonder why the serpent attacked your friend Debora but no one else."

Gwen raised a few points of hypothesis—one, Debora was from an old family of staunch Christians. There was such a thing as Faith Magic, and Debora had been blessed by the Bishop. Two, Debora was the only one of them in possession of an Elemental Spirit. Three, Debora was somewhat hostile to the Indigenous folk they had met for the entire length of the journey, barring Tommy, with whom she was already acquainted.

Surya shook his head. None of these theories satisfied what Gwen had described. "Maybe it was just a coincidence?" he suggested, shrugging his bony shoulders. "I'd hardly imagine that a primordial Spirit would care for a high school girl. Well, besides yourself. What was it like to channel its power?"

"It was like energy was building up from the ambient mana of the earth and sky," Gwen said. "It didn't feel like a spell."

Surya didn't have an answer to that either. So much knowledge about the Spirit Magic of the local tribes was censored, destroyed, their Walkers castigated by witch hunters and then butchered. He doubted that even the Indigenous folk themselves had an answer for Gwen's circumstance. "Just concentrate on the road ahead," he advised, his voice mellow. "Sometimes, all a man can do is wait and see."

"I know, Opa. Thanks." Gwen bid Surya goodnight, planting a wet sloppy kiss on her opa's forehead.

"I'll be gone first thing tomorrow morning. I'll see you at Kwan's estate in the arvo or at night. Get some rest. It's going to be a busy day ahead. Remember to dress nicely! We're expecting guests!” Surya waved her away.

When Gwen finally arrived at her room, the other girls were already asleep.

She took another shower, a hot one this time, and felt the tension melt from her weary bones. She didn't possess the same constitution as the others, and the horse riding had taken its toll. Towelling off, she fell into bed and was instantly asleep after forty-eight hours of wakefulness.

Chapter twenty-one

House of the Rising Huang

The girls bid one another goodbye the next day.

Despite their reunion at Blackwattle within the week, tears were shed and hugs dispensed. Gwen blamed it on the adolescent hormones. The girls were at an age where every emotion seemed magnified, every separation, no matter how brief, touched by tragedy.

Surya left with Gwen's girls, grinning sheepishly. Tess and Melissa had their duties for the day, so Gwen had until noon to get ready and embark on the five-hour journey to reach Kwan's Kirribilli manor.

She laid out her wardrobe on the bed.

It was going to be a night of consequences. She wasn't just dressing to be beguiling, she was selecting a battle garb. What she needed was something vibrant, powerful—something that suggested willful independence. Mentally, she fancied the green curtain gown Scarlet O'Hara had worn in Gone With the Wind. When Gwen had watched the scene in technicolour 4k, it had sent shivers down her spine.

Unfortunately, she had to make do with branded dresses her dreaded “other” mother had bought her. Chronologically, she laid out the loot from her junior years to her senior year. The collection was akin to an anthropological study of Helena's head, measured by the hem of her skirts and their narrowing waistlines.

In both worlds, she was one of those girls who had hit puberty early, long before her mind was capable of comprehending the alchemical changes taking place. When the other girls were still mewling, adorable children, she had sprouted to five feet like a new yew. When her friends reached their growth spurt, she was a six-foot crane amongst clucking hens.

She wanted something that showed off her post-Almudj figure—not something sexual, but something elegant and aristocratic, arrogant even.

Her eyes flowed over the selection, landing upon a porcelain white one-piece inlaid with lapis-blue china. She tried it on, doubting the dress could fit. To Gwen's surprise, it did; her unfortunate, Caliban-induced anorexia allowed for the tapered waistline flawlessly. The hem was precariously short, but Gwen was prepared for that too. She'd earlier purchased a comfortable pair of white spats which would serve as a safety, cropped high enough on her thighs to give the illusion that she was wearing naught but the dress itself.

Armed with a pair of pumps, she inspected herself. With an additional fifteen or so centimetres from the pump, she was a veritable Brobdingnagian. To practice, she stalked through the compound to the stunned expression of an NoM labourer.

In Tess' bathroom, Gwen piled her hair this way and that, finally settling on a sweeping fringe framing her face. An application of eyeliner finished the look. In the reflection, she appeared terrifyingly vivacious.

By the time Gwen had stowed her wardrobe back into the Storage Ring, Mel had returned to take her to the station.

"Whoa!" Mel covered her face dramatically. "That's your regalia, huh? Let me get a pic." She returned a moment later with a lumen recorder and snapped images of Gwen standing beside the water feature.

"I could sell these for crystals, you know." Tess grinned. "Get ’em blown up and printed, put ’em in a magazine. What say we go halfsies?"

"You're too much!" Gwen quipped, happy to be flattered.

"Well, let's get going. Surya is going to be a happy man."

They drove to the station, where Gwen caught the midday service to the city. From central, the taxi driver stole glances at her, almost causing an accident.

At Kwan's, the late afternoon sky remained a blazing ultramarine, the waters of Bateman's Bay a translucent teal. Against the bay, Gwen extended her legs perpendicular to the cab, her heels tapping the concrete.

Instantly, a guard wearing a white shirt and dark tie attended her arrival. "Ms Song." The man bowed. "The family is within. Please follow me."

Gwen told him to tip the driver for his service and the guard obliged, throwing a fifty into the cabbie's window. They were halfway up the stairs leading to the elevated foyer when Gwen heard the familiar voice of Richard coming down the stairs.

"Gwen! My word, you look a million HDMs! I had been dreaming up compliments, but you've wiped them from my mind." The young man's eyes were smiling.

Gwen left the guard for Richard, moving across the marble tiles with a tap of her needlepoint heels, drawing heads from across the compound. In the flood-lit corridor, she appeared larger than life.

The cousins embraced, Gwen giving Richard a peck on the cheek.

"Now that you're taller than me. I feel small and emasculated," Richard confessed, returning the peck. "Can you not walk too close? I feel both intimated and questionably aroused."

Gwen laughed and punched him in the arm.

"You brute!" Richard remarked, sliding an arm around her to cup her waist. "Come, let me take you in. How high are those heels? I'll have to get the Transmuters to add another inch to my shoes."

The manor was exactly as Gwen had left it the last time—opulent and tasteless. It spoke loudly of how much money the inhabitants possessed and little of anything else. She clicked-clacked her way through the foyer and into the open living room.

"Gwen! My beautiful niece!" A voice that could only belong to Uncle Kwan echoed across the vaulted ceiling. Unlike last time, Gwen was prepared. This time, she had support. This time, she had a plan.

"Uncle!" she left Richard and embraced Kwan. This time, the bulbous man appeared diminished by her implausibly long-legged figure.

"Have you gained weight?" Kwan lifted her, then allowed her to land.

"No more than you, Uncle."

It took a second for Kwan's ire to catch up. Gwen knew the man was conscious of his weight and hated having it mentioned.

"Come see your aunty," Kwan deflected, his tone no longer amused, leading Gwen towards Tali.

"Did you have to say that, dear?" Tali shot her a critical glance. "Has our baby bird has become a peacock?"

"Eagle," Gwen corrected her, a smile upon her lips. "Sea eagle, preferably."

Tali measured her with a sideways glance. "You look, lovely dear." She swallowed a little bitterly. "Too lovely, in fact. Who knew the little girl who'd cry because she couldn't fit into her mummy's new present would be so stunning now?"

"The dress I couldn't fit into?" Gwen spun, sensing the hem flutter and the conversation around them quieten. "This is that dress. It fits just fine now, thanks for asking."

Tali chose to change the subject. "Dinner's a buffet, just help yourself to whatever." The woman paused. "Your mother's going to be here with her new husband and your brother. For Surya's big speech."

"Good for them." Gwen controlled the tone of her voice. "I am starving already. Guess I'll help myself."

Her Aunt Tali retreated.

Richard rejoined her. "I want to say nicely done, but that would make me a terrible son, so nicely done." He offered her a flute of bubbling champagne.

"You're a great son." Gwen took the glass and clinked Richard's own. "Who could honestly say that they are a better son than you?"

"Oh, I won't be here for much longer, a few years at most. Prince's had my military training deferred, but I'll probably do it anyway once I get to London."

Gwen raised an exquisite brow. "You're going to a tier-one city?"

"Orders from above, from London, I mean. I was the dux of the School of Conjuration. It got me a one-way ticket to the real world."

"That's amazing, Richard. Congratulations. I am happy for you." Gwen squeezed his arm.

"Which makes me a terrible son see, ’cause I can't take the old parents with me, not until I become a Magus or rack up enough Contribution Credits to open up a migration application."

"I know some of those words," Gwen admitted. Tier-one cities, the whole ordeal was like another world that was currently beyond her.

"Nonsense, I bet you'll be moved to a tier-one city in no time. Which city do you fancy?"

Gwen considered it. She always dreamed of going to England, but there was also Southern China, where her father's family had supposedly originated. London was the seat of Old Magic, but the Shanghai of the 2000s provided incredible economic opportunities. If Gwen wanted to use her talents from the old world, that was where she needed to be. "Shanghai, London, maybe New York?" Gwen stated. "I would love it if my friends could come too."

"Yue, probably. Elvia, not so much. I believe there was a Debora too, no? That girl could only dream of your potential."

"Not Elvia?!" Gwen looked shocked.

"Decent healers are a dime a dozen in the capital cities. Elvia is a cutie, but unfortunately, nothing too special in the real world. She doesn't even have a Spirit."

Gwen was not happy to hear that. She wasn't happy at all.

"Fear not, just get her imported over once you make Magus, rack up some CCs and you're good to go. Hell, you can keep her as your pet if you honestly felt like it."

"I am not thrilled to hear that, Richard."

"Sorry, I'll shut up now. You know how it is. I get excited." Richard took a sip. "How about we get some food, meet some people?"

"Sure." Gwen took a deep breath and controlled the sense of unease rising from her chest.

At the buffet, they met with familiar faces. "Ah, Patrick and… Derek, how lovely to see you."

Patrick spun and clicked his heels. The young man looked different. He had just started his military service and it seemed to have buffed him up, making a man out of him. "Ms Song. The greatest pleasure. You do look lovely."

Gwen allowed Patrick to mime kissing her hand. She didn't curtsey but instead shook his hand afterwards, feeling the sweat in his clammy palms.

Beside her, Derek's eyes almost fell out of his sockets. They stared intently at Gwen's long, white legs. His face gave the expression of someone struggling to look away and failing.

"Derek, Gwen is speaking to you. Don't be droll," Richard reprimanded, sounding like a dog had just shat on his front lawn.

"Sorry, Richard." Derek's gaze returned to eye level. "Hi, I am Derek."

"I know— it's good to see you again, Derek." Gwen shook his hand as well, watching the man's face burn a salmon pink. With the height afforded by her pumps, she towered over both Derek and Patrick.

"To your health." Richard tipped his glass towards them.

The four of them clinked flutes. Derek mumbled an alibi and quickly excused himself, retreating somewhere with fewer eyes to brood over the unpleasant encounter.

Patrick stayed on. This time, he was making a good impression, making casual small talk about Prince's recent activities and some interesting tidbits on his military training. Thanks to his father's position at Suncorp and his own effort, he was to conduct his military training in an Arial Mage Wing stationed near Barrington.

Other young men and women came and joined them, offering congratulations to Richard, and to admire his svelte cousin.

"How come you're not at Lilith's?" A peppy young woman with a permed blonde bob chirped, covetously measuring Gwen's sculpted face.

"I was a late bloomer," Gwen replied jovially. "I came into my Awakening late."

"Still," the girl looked around conspiratorially, "you're Richard's cousin, and you're beautiful and talented, so how come we've never seen you around?"

"Digging a little deep there, Piggy." Richard coughed.

"Peggy." The girl puffed out her cheeks. "Petunia Wallace, pleased to meet you, Gwen."

"Pleasure." Gwen shook her hand.

"You're welcome at Lilith's anytime. I am on the SRC board, so I can show you around the grounds if you like."

"I might just take you up on that offer someday soon, Petunia." Gwen flashed a winsome smile, watching her face light up with pleasure.

Small talk followed. The girls hit it off nicely and exchanged details on their Message Devices.

Halfway through, Gwen noticed a perceptible dimming of the hall's conversation volume. Even Petunia stopped speaking when Gwen paused to stare at the entrance of the foyer.

Her mother had arrived.

At the entrance to the rear deck stood Helena Huang, the daughter of the House of Huang. It was the first time that Gwen had seen her in the company of her new husband—an older man, tall and mature and old-fashioned.

There was Percy too, next to them, cringingly dressed in an ivory tuxedo. He looked taller by at least an inch since Gwen had last seen him half a year ago. She wanted to go and greet him immediately but refrained when her mother's eyes held her in place. The last time they had met was at the principal's office, and she had fried her mother with a Shocking Grasp.

Gwen's jaws clenched. Through force of will, she made her body relax, assuring herself that the night was long and Surya would soon be out to put an end to the matter.

But her mother did not approach. For the next hour, Helena did not even look her way.

Gwen felt butterflies. She fought down a bout of anxiety, annoyed at the immediate delay of her confrontation. Her mother's cult of personality was powerful, and she still wasn't immune. She watched her mother kissing Kwan and Tali and then Richard. She watched her mother kiss an endless number of people, most of whom she did not know.

"There's your daughter," Richard declared much too loudly for polite conversation. "Right over there, look. Let me point her out to you. Hi, Gwen!"

Gwen waved back.

Helena's facade was one of annoyance. A chortle escaped Gwen's nose. She had to turn and hide her mirth when Richard made a face.

Kwan shot Richard a warning glance. Aunt Tali didn't care. In her eyes, Richard was her faultless first-born. He could burn the house down and she would love him unconditionally.

"So that's my step-daughter, the infamous Gwen Song," A deep and resonant voice rang out. Gwen's step-father appeared to be a man accustomed to having orders followed. Having saved his wife from awkwardness, Helena's husband made his way across the floor towards Gwen.

The man was impressive, Gwen had to admit. He was a Clint Eastwood type of bloke, broad in the shoulder, well-muscled for his age. She recalled that Morye had once complained loudly and sulkily that her new step-father was a retired Colonel and an Earthen Enchanter. Presently, the man worked for Sydney's Frontier Militia as a consultant. Helena had met him at another one of Kwan's parties.

Gwen found it remarkable that even with her statuesque attire, the man still stared down at her. But it made sense. Her mother was only a little shorter than herself. One of Helena's favourite gripes was that, once she married to Morye, she had to give up her heels.

"Tang Hu, but you can call me Mr Hu." Tang paused for effect, "Or Father, if you prefer."

When she registered "Father" coming from the man's lips, Gwen almost spat her juice in Tang's face. He looked displeased, his stoic face contorted with scrutiny. He measured her with his eyes and shook his head. "Helena told me you were out of control, a wild child. Just look at what you're wearing. You're still a young girl, Gwen, act like one."

Gwen wanted to throw the glass of sparkling juice in his face. This dress was bought and gifted by Helena! She had mocked her when she couldn't fit into it. Knowing or otherwise, the hypocrisy was astounding. Not only was this Tang taking possession of her; he was also sanctimonious!

She’d had to deal with men like Tang before in McKinsey, men with big dick, cock and bull attitudes. She knew how to deal with men like that. You had to castrate them from the get-go. "Oh, I would love to have a strong hand to guide me, sure." She lowered her eyes demurely, seemingly taken aback. "I've been living by myself, after all, no discipline, no rules, doing whatever I wanted. Sometimes, I feel so lost."

Her passivity seemed to have tickled Tang's expectations. He was a simple man when it came to it. There was little wonder Helena had him tied around her finger, playing him like a fiddle.

"Mr Hu, I mean Tang, I heard that you are a remarkably powerful Enchanter, is that true?"

"Indeed," Tang replied confidently. "I am tier V myself, tier IV Abjuration as my supplementary, I am an armourer by trade."

"Oh." Gwen made an expression of disappointment. "Just tier V?”

Tang furrowed his brows with vexation.

"My opa, he's been kind enough to take me in at the moment, you know, I hope mother had told you. He's a tier VII Enchanter, tier VI Transmuter, Fire specialisation. He only takes commissions from the Tower though, so I am sure he's not that famous."

Tang's face darkened. "I have the utmost respect for Master Huang," he intoned flatly.

"He would be rather upset if you wanted to be my father. A step-father who is only mid-tier. I mean, what would be the benefit?"

A silken silence engendered. Somewhere, someone snickered.

"You should watch your attitude, young lady."

Tang was not used to back-talk, Gwen could see that. He was unused to someone who threw shade, much less a wee teenage girl. Why, look at her! He could snap her in half with his bare hands.

But Gwen also knew that Tang wasn't her enemy. He was being used by her mother, just as she had been. "Yes, you're right, Mr Hu. I am afraid we started on the wrong foot. My mother has that effect." Gwen extended a hand. "It's nice to meet you."

The sudden change seemed to catch Tang off guard. He shook Gwen's hand, noting the firmness of her shake, the way her delicate fingers fitted into his calloused palm with confidence. "Nice to meet you, Gwen." He packed away his attitude.

"No need, I am to blame entirely." Gwen leaned in and touched his forearm, flashing him a winning grin. "You learn to grow up fast when you live alone."

"You're a strange young woman."

"All women are strange, Mr Hu."

Inwardly, Gwen breathed out. She had embarrassed people like Tang before, in public where they would lose their temper and make a fool of themselves. Tang deserved better. She observed her mother, who had been watching grimly from the living room. When Tang parted, her mother's face lost some of its lustre. Helena stilled possessed no desire to speak to Gwen.

Likely, Gwen suspected, her mother was waiting to see what Surya had to say.

"HELLO! HELLO! Everyone!"

The crowd's attention turned towards the second floor.

Surya stood against the bannister rail, surveying his domain like an old king. As regal as the old Mage looked, Gwen secretly knew the truth—Surya probably had just finished his later afternoon nap after a too-hearty meal.

The Huang family lifted their chins to regard their progenitor, each with expressions mixed with awe, wonder, paranoia and contempt.

Surya Huang, Patriarch, Magus, Master Enchanter-Fabricator of the Tower Oceania, now addressed the crowd.

Chapter twenty-two

’Til the Fat Lady Sings

Surya coughed, then cleared his throat. "Friends, thank you for coming tonight. I hope that you have all enjoyed yourselves. I know that, in recent years, I have been somewhat reclusive; an old hermit hiding in my workshop. So before we begin. Let me apologise for my irresponsible absence."

Scattered applause answered Surya's self-deprecative jest. Many of the guests were indeed interested in why the old Enchanter had emerged from his self-imposed exile half a decade ago.

"For the young among you who are wondering who this old, talking scarecrow could be, I am the Master of the Huang Clan, its patriarch, Surya." He turned his face to find his children within the crowd. "Kwan, Helena, come to me."

Surya’s children walk from the crowd and stand underneath him, who lorded over them via the second-floor foyer.

"My children, the fruit of my loins."

"Father." Kwan bowed respectfully.

"Dad." Helena curtsied, the side-slit of her dress splitting distractingly, drawing eyes from around the room.

Surya nodded. Of the two, it was Helena whose life he lamented. His daughter's beauty, especially in her youth, had blatantly outshone every other facet of her life. It afforded her such convenience and advantage that it had consumed her. Only now that Helena's comeliness was inevitably waning with each passing year, had she grown desperate and scornful.

"You have done well for yourselves," Surya continued. "I applaud you for expanding the family fortune and allowing the Clan to flourish."

The crowd clapped; almost all of them were friends and associates of Kwan. The New Year’s party had been planned for months, but Kwan had only known about Surya's desire to be present a fortnight ago. That was why he was nervously smiling and golf-clapping along with the crowd. Where was this charade going? Why had Surya come out of his reclusive existence as an eccentric artist?

"Yet," Surya continued, "wealth, money, land, crystals, these are all but a means to an end."

The crowd fell silent.

"Look around you. Forget the canapés, forget the beverage in your hands, forget this mansion, forget the harbour view. Look—LOOK out there and see the reason why anything matters at all."

The crowd turned. There was the dark pier, scintillating with lights that refracted off the softly sloshing sea. Beyond the harbour, there was a thin sliver of light upon the horizon—the Shield Barrier.

"Survival! That is all!" Surya raised his voice. "That is the only thing that matters. None of this. Not this House, not the wine in your hands, not the expensive clothing on your back, not the money in your pockets—it is only our ability to carry on that matters."

The crowd was now confused. Was this suitable for a New Year’s speech? They certainly hadn’t attended to listen to sermons. Was Kwan's father senile?

"Survival." Surya bit the word with his teeth clenched. "Richard, Gwen, Percy, come."

The children gathered behind their parents. Gwen could smell her mother's perfume rolling off her like a tide, triggering unpleasant memories deep within her consciousness.

"The next generation, my pride and joy."

"Grandfather." Richard bowed, legs slightly apart, his shoulders squared, a vestige of Prince's discipline.

"Grandfather." Percy bowed casually, inclining his upper body.

"Opa." Gwen curtsied, crossing a slender white leg over the other, arching herself gracefully.

At once, his granddaughter commanded the full attention of the crowd. Tall and majestic, her presence inspired a form of awe. Her natural grace was such that viewers were first overwhelmed, then overcome by a sense of disbelief that something so perfect could exist so close at hand.

Looking at the crowd, Surya could read the faces of those below. Appreciation, jealousy and outright desire; it was plain who was thinking what.

"Survival," Surya repeated pointedly. "I am very pleased with my grandchildren. Kids, tell the guests about yourselves."

The guests regarded one another.

Richard was the clear winner, a Conjurer with unfathomable talent. Percy had yet to awaken, but he was most definitely going to be something special. Gwen was recently exposed as a Lightning Evoker, impressive in itself.

His grandson stepped up.

“I, Richard Huang, have reached tier V in Conjuration. I am currently progressing onto my tier I Abjuration Sigil. My affinity with Water is currently five."

The crowd exploded.

"He's almost a Magus!"

"At eighteen, no less!"

"Richard, congratulations."

"Kwan, you old dog! Your House is on the up and up!"

"You're going places. lad!"

"Congratulations, Master Huang!"

Surya settled the crowd. "Percy, how is your progress?"

Percy looked at his mother, who nodded conspiratorially. "Grandfather, I am not yet fully awakened to my abilities, but I can inform you that I do possess a unique talent."

"Oh?" Surya raised a bushy eyebrow. "Do tell, my grandchild."

Percy sucked in a frigid breath, appearing as though anticipating a vicious blow. "I have this." He opened his hands and channelled mana through his body. His face paled, his fingers growing frosty with ice.

The crowd stepped closer.

Percy's face paled even further, painfully groaning with each passing second.

An older guest picked up a thimbleful of the white crystalline material and rubbed it between his fingers. "Salt!" he uttered with a voice several octaves higher than his normal range. "Percy's a Salt Mage?!"

Others also took pinches of the stuff as Percy gracelessly panted.

The crowd tasted the salt to test the validity of the man's claim; they crushed it with their fingers, feeling it dissipate as the mana diffused into the air.

The resulting uproar was grander than Richard's. The guests instantly piled compliment upon compliment onto Kwan and Helena, toasting the family on their windfall.

Percy too received endless praise from people in the room both young and old, envious and genuine, bathing in a moment of triumph. His pale cheeks flushed with a rose-pink of pleasure and vanity. He had been keeping the secret at his mother's behest for months, but it had been all worthwhile. Glancing at her brother, Gwen saw that Percy stole a look at her face.

Gwen felt a chill as the implications of Salt flashed through her mind.

Percy smirked.

According to Gwen's Master, the element of Salt was the union of the Negative Plane and the Plane of Water. It was a versatile element, capable of creating barriers, projectiles and, at higher levels, debilitating desiccation. It was a peerless element against living creatures, especially against water-based beings.

What Percy did not know was that his sister's worry wasn't for herself, but him. Even now, she was reeling with dread and horror. Salt was an element that, like her Void spells, fed on the life of the user. Percy was just a boy! How is it possible that a boy going through puberty was burning his vitality to perform a fucking show and tell?

Gwen gritted her teeth. She wanted to slap her mother across the face. She needed to warn Percy, then hug him to her chest. She looked up at Surya, whose expression was ambivalent.

"Sorry, Gwen. It looks like I need you to show off more than your Conjuration," her opa whispered through a private Message spell. "Show them a potential but reveal nothing concrete."

Gwen nodded at Surya, affirming his advice.

The small gesture did not escape Helena's hawk-eyes. Even now, she smirked with pleasure. She knew the old codger was up to something, and that her son's unique talent had disrupted whatever the hell the old fool had planned. Yet, what could trump her son's unmatched ability?

It took Surya several coughs and a resounding slap on the oakwood bannister to finally calm down the crowd. They were now all gathered beside Helena and Kwan, leaving Gwen isolated on the other side of the room.

Kwan was less than thrilled that Helena's boy would one day outstrip his own, but Richard had his accomplishments in the present. Richard was going to a tier-one city. Lord knows when Percy could do the same.

The volume finally fell to a murmur.

"Finally, we have a member of the family who may be a stranger to many of you. Here, is Gwen Song, my grandchild and Helena's first. Gwen, can you please tell us about your talented self."

Gwen turned to the crowd and gave them a dazzling smile.

The crowd was now significantly less impressed with her exterior talents after the last two bouts of pleasant surprises. After all, if Gwen was merely going to say that she was a Lightning Evoker, she was still dead last in a trial of three contenders.

"I am a tier III Evoker."

The crowd golf-clapped.

The expectant crowd was then both confused and puzzled when Gwen began an invocation NOT from the School of Evocation. With relish, Richard recognised her Conjuration School of Magic, grinning as Gwen worked her sorcery.

"Ariel!"

A bolt of lightning struck the marble floor, materialising into a marten that gazed upon the crowd adorably. "Eee! Eeeee Eee!"

With a jolt of mana, Ariel grew into its combat form, becoming the size of a large, electricity-clad mongoose that snarled and spat. The stunned audience felt their eyes bulging in their sockets, their hands covering their mouths in disbelief.

"I am also tier III in Conjuration." Gwen snapped her fingers, and a halo of electricity erupted from Ariel.

"Tier IV in Lightning."

The crowd had gone silent.

Gwen retracted Ariel, and the creature stepped back into the pocket dimension, fading from sight with a crack of localised thunder.

"One last thing…" Gwen channelled a little magic to tease the guests' appetite. She extended her hand. A whip of pure plasma erupted from it. She flailed it overhead effortlessly, allowing its length to writhe and crackle.

"Though it is a work in progress, I have attained some control over the Sigil of Transmutation."

"How is that possible?" a shrill voice blurted out. Gwen wasn't too pleased to see that it was Percy, her brother, who had made his doubts known. "It must be an illusion! Grandfather hired an Illusionist!"

Richard stepped up. "Any decent Mage worth their salt could tell you that Gwen had just now manifested both Conjuration and Transmutation. Don't make yourself more idiotic than you already are, cousin. If you want to attend Prince's, you need to have class."

Percy appeared as though someone had just caught him by the throat and choked him. Beside Percy, Helena's face was turning all kinds of colours from a blanched white to a dark liver.

Richard began to clap. Then Surya clapped.

Clap, clap, clap, the sound of applause filled the living room. The guests joined in, first one, then a dozen. Soon all of them were clapping, even Kwan and Tali.

Gwen blushed with overwhelming pleasure, her ego well-pampered.

The family's guests were ecstatic. They were witnessing the rise of a Magister—an existence that numbered under thirty even in a nation as large as Australia. Considering Gwen's age, what if she became the Master of a Tower? A being whose policies decided whether they lived in poverty or prosperity, whose decisions dictated who lived and died to the Beast Tide.

Beside his cousin, Richard felt such delight. He knew it! He couldn't wait for her to graduate so that they could go on some adventures together, test out their powers against forces unknown. With Gwen's versatility, all he needed to do was to train his Abjuration Sigil. It would be glorious. They would be the dynamic Conjuring duo!

Meeting her cousin's eye, Gwen flashed Richard a heart-warming smile.

Surya banged on the bannisters again. "Alright, alright, settle down. As you can see, the House of Huang is going places."

The crowd laughed, earnestly this time. Laughs and hoots and shrill whistling echoed across the vaulted living room.

"Now that we are properly informed, here is my officious decision. The reason why I took this opportunity to speak to you." Surya took a deep breath. "As many of you may know, I am an artist first and an Enchanter second. I have little interest in maintaining our Clan. One of the sole reasons why I remain the patriarch is that the head of a House must be at minimum a Magus of good reputation.

"As such, I desire to retire from my role as patriarch in the coming years, and I wish to confer my estate and my powers onto younger strengths so that I may spend my final decade, or two, doing the things I love. "My decision, therefore, is to choose Gwen—"

"NO!" A voice shrieked across the hall, interrupting Surya's speech.

It was Helena, Gwen's mother. She was trembling with rage. She could scarcely believe her ears. This had to be a joke! The Clan, the estate, all of it was supposed to be Helena's! Tali had told her that Richard had been selected to transfer to London, to finish his education in a tier-one university. It meant that, eventually, Kwan would also leave for London with his wife. It implied that Helena would be the sole heir to the Clan, the only one of her generation left in the country. So what if she wasn't a Magus? Who else was there to take it from her?

Her palms sweated. The House and Surya's investments, the country estate, all of it should one day be hers.

Now the old fool wanted to give it to Gwen? She saw the way he looked at Gwen. Percy? Fine, but not Gwen, not that little vixen!

And in that case, what of her? What of Percy? Gwen would receive all the resources of the Huangs. After all, the little harlot had three schools to train and that meant exponential expenditures. She could just see it now, the old codger laughing behind her back, Gwen cackling like a hyena behind Helena's back.

"You can't do this!" Helena's hazel eyes flashed with fire and fury. "It's not right! I'll serve you to the courts! I'll challenge you at the Tower! No patriarch can deny their children their rightful inheritance!"

Beside his sister, Kwan agreed. Richard as heir? Fine, but how could Gwen come out of nowhere steal their resources?

"You dare challenge my decision, Helena?" Surya intoned dangerously. "Perhaps I should disinherit you right now, but that would disqualify Percy. Would you like that?"

By now, Percy's face had gone from ashen to deathly. How was he going to compete with a Magister-in-training? He wasn't even adequately Awakened. When he became a Mage, Gwen would be a Magus. When he became a Magus, Gwen would be a Magister!

Looking at his sister, Percy realised the strange bitterness eating at his chest. He gave it a name, and it was jealousy. Unbidden, he wanted to lash out at her, to impale her through the chest with a pillar of crystalline Salt.

Richard raised a hand. "I don't want the inheritance anyway. Well done, Gwen."

"Richard!" Kwan called out in alarm.

"Son!" Tali held a hand to her lips.

"It's true." Richard turned to his parents. "I'll build my own legacy in London. It's far better for me that Gwen expends the wealth we have gathered here, then joins me overseas. Think of it, Father, with Gwen and myself in London or Shanghai or New York, how could we fail?"

Kwan knew that his son had a fair point. Did he honestly want to contest a future Magister over something as trivial as wealth? If Gwen or Richard were to come into their own, he would have power and influence, connections and business opportunities.

"Richard, take it back," Tali begged.

"No," Kwan interrupted his wife. "The boy knows what he is doing."

"But—" Tali felt cheated.

"Come here." Kwan pulled his wife aside, signalling their acceptance of Surya's decision.

The crowd's attention shifted back towards Helena, who was still squaring off against Gwen. Her husband, Tang Hu, reached her side to calm her, but the woman was now livid.

"I refuse to accept your frivolous judgement!" Helena snarled. "She's a Song! She'll never inherit your name. Richard should be the heir, or we could change Percy's surname, and he could be the heir!"

Her hysterics only seemed to make Surya more determined. "Helena, silence. You cannot be the heir because you are useless!" Surya shouted the insult, striking his daughter like a blow. "You cannot survive what will come for us all. We are NOT safe in our enclaves; there're monsters out there, you dimwit. Only the best of us will survive!"

"You're insane!" Helena screamed back at Surya. "You're senile! The Coral Sea War is over. We've had peace for two decades. We're not in the eighties, old man! We live in new worlds!"

Surya's brown skin grew purple with rage.

"Opa!" Gwen's voice called out, her voice soft and mellow and full of care; a juxtaposition to her mother's dagger-sharp notes. "Please don't be so mad, you're getting much too excited."

"You!" Helena turned to her daughter. She broke free from her husband and advanced on Gwen, striding towards her like an Arabian dervish, a storm of emotions fulminating fury.

Gwen's heart rose to her throat. She fought down the bile threatening to spill from her oesophagus and faced her mother, channelling a calming flow of electric mana to give her eyes that distinct quality which had made her felt intimidating and in command.

Her mother stopped an inch from Gwen. She was about to slap her daughter, but then realised she would be striking a future Magister. Suddenly paralysed with indecision, Gwen's mother waited for her husband to reach her side and restrain her.

She would use another approach.

"How could you!" Tears the size of marbles gushed from Helena's eyes as though she was the one who was the Conjurer. "I gave you so much, Gwen. I gave you everything! I bought you the clothes on your back. I gave you that dress you're wearing right now!"

The sudden change caught Gwen off balance. She'd been anticipating a fiery slap across the face. Now she didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

Her mother was much too talented an actress for her own good. Even in a situation like this, she wanted to guilt-trip her? Did she think Surya had just given an eleventh-hour speech on survival because of PTSD and dementia? It was like her mother lived in another reality.

Tang's face was red too, touched by his wife's outpouring of emotion. His eyes begged Gwen to give them a reprieve, anything that will stop the pain of this public disgrace. Unfortunately, Gwen could no longer afford that generosity. She wasn't about to ruin her opa's great plan by being soft and compassionate toward a woman she knew to be a snake in the grass, a Snake-kin wearing human skin.

"I'll be sure to pay you back ten-fold, I promise. You'll have more ill-fitting dresses than you know what to do with," Gwen replied earnestly. "I'll still take care of you, Mother. Like you said to me, you may not be worth much, but you won't starve to death."

"You!" Helena collapsed into broken sobs, a wailing woman overcome with grief.

The crowd murmured, their faces red from second-hand embarrassment.

Gwen gritted her teeth.

Surya looked as though he was thinking of striking this daughter down here and now.

"Enough!" a voice called out above them.

The crowd had thought the utterance came from Surya, but Gwen knew that it had not. She knew that voice too well, too personally.

Beside Surya, there was now another gentleman, older looking, in a tweed jacket and a dark blue vest.

Sufina the dryad leapt gracefully from the second-storey railing. She landed amidst the crowd, enveloping them with shivering, fallen leaves of autumn as her colour changed from crimson and ochre to a vivid, vibrant emerald.

The gathered were amazed by the sight of a Demi-human woman with a dress of leaves and flowers who embraced Gwen, instantly smothering her with a dozen kisses.

"Oh! I missed you so much!" Sufina rubbed her cheeks against Gwen, quivering with unadulterated joy. "That energy! Your vitality is stronger than before! Oh, I adore it."

"I can't believe you made me wait in that room for a whole thirty minutes," the second speaker said to Surya. "I could have used a cuppa and a cucumber sandwich."

"Sorry, things got a little out of hand," Surya said. He continued complaining in muted tones. "Who'd think my bloodlines have Water, Salt, Lightning and Void. What the hell is wrong with my bloodline? Am I old Prussian aristocracy?"

The second speaker patted his friend on the shoulder, then approached the railing. "You all know who I am," he stated as a matter of fact. "I come to serve as the arbitrator for Master Huang, as a personal favour."

The crowd knew who had addressed them, quivering with dizzying excitement.

A Magister.

A fabled war hero.

A sovereign within these lands.

He was Henry Kilroy, Magister and Master of the Ordo Arcanum Oceania, head of the Council of Ten.

"After consultation with the patriarch of this House, I concur that Surya's decree as patriarch is sacrosanct. I have thus taken the liberty to verify, then enter his request into the Tower's records.

"Furthermore, from this moment onwards, the Junior Mage known as Gwen Song is under my protection. Any information pertaining to her talents is strictly classified Tower business."

Henry's gaze inclined downwards upon the stunned Helena, whose mouth was still making an “O” for horror.

"If any of you have questions or would like to challenge my judgement, let it now be known or hold your peace."

There was a silken silence immediately pursued by the synchronised sound of knees striking cold marble.

In the next few seconds that transpired, the crowd, Kwan included, had fallen on one knee and made the ultimate gesture of supplication, their hands placed upon their hearts in a pledge of affirmation.

Helena stood her ground, although by now she was a mess of flesh in her husband's hands, who also knelt respectfully. Though not in a military sense, Lord Kilroy was nonetheless his direct superior.

"Then that is all," Henry intoned satisfactorily, his stoic voice of command taking up a lighter tone.

BANG! BAN-BANG!

The sound Sydney's harbour fireworks erupted across the bay. In the next moment, the whole city came alive with music and cacophonic pyrotechnical displays.

"Happy New Year," Henry said to them all, raising a hand to hail the kneeling guests. "May you all live long and prosper.”

Chapter twenty-three

Sharing is Caring

Master!" Gwen bowed toward him as he took a breather on the second-floor living room. "I am glad for your presence, but why are you here? I imagined a Mage of your station would be far too busy."

"When everyone thinks you're busy, you're surprisingly free." Henry laughed. "Come closer, Gwen, let's take a look at your progress. Surya tells me you have worked hard while on the estate."

Gwen stood in front of Henry and concentrated on activating her Sigils one by one.

Henry's eyes glowed with the scintillating hues of Divination, measuring the wavelengths of mana radiating off Gwen's Astral body.

"I see significant growth in your Abjuration Sigil," Henry intoned pleasingly. "Your Evocation and Conjuration are moving nicely as well, though there are many more months of training there yet."

"And tier IV Lightning? Very impressive, Gwen. I can sense some growth in your Void affinity as well, though, as always, I would act conservatively in its utility until you gain access to a source of replenishment." Her Master inclined his head satisfactorily. "Very good, Gwen, you have kept yourself busy."

"Thank you, Master," Gwen replied respectfully. "I wish to run a hypothesis by you if that is at all possible."

"Of course, child, go on."

Gwen informed Henry of her encounter with Wanka, about her suspicions regarding Caliban's elemental consumption. She watched Henry rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "If this is true, then I would venture to take you on some targeted 'Purges' in the next few months."

"That would be lovely, Master," Gwen answered delicately. "On that note, I am unsure what to focus on in the coming three months. Do you have any advice?"

Sufina appeared beside Gwen again, caressing her hair greedily and coiling her tendrils around her waist. The dryad's leaves were now vibrant and glossy with the scent of spring.

"Conjuration, of course!" Sufina uttered with that sultry voice of hers. She had taken on Gwen's likeness after intoxicating herself within the presence of the serpent's primal vitality. Gwen wordlessly watched her doppelgänger strut about the place, stomping about with two pointed stilts that made up her otherwise curvaceous and well-formed legs. The sight was alien, to say the least, disturbing and discerning all at once.

Henry seemed used to Sufina's antics and simply allowed his Familiar to do as she pleased. "Yes," her Master answered after a few seconds of deliberation. "For combat against other Mages, there are few schools as powerful as Conjuration."

"Can you elaborate, Master?"

"Sufina, can you demonstrate?"

"Of course, Henry." Sufina moved with a graceful leap, performing an aerial pirouette before gracefully landing on the seamless marble tiles.

Henry concentrated on channelling mana into his Familiar. "Minor Elemental." Henry incanted, and a half-dozen shrubs sprung into life and began to form a line. They faced Gwen and saluted with their stiff limbs.

"This is a useful spell, good for distractions and cannon fodder, but beware the next step." Henry fed his mana into the summons. Immediately, their cute, shrubbery form turned cruel with splinters and spikes, the limbs of the miniature trees grew barbs that gleamed with venom.

"That took a significant fraction of mana," Henry noted. "Not an easy feat if your Mana Pool is low." He dismissed the trees with a wave. "Next, one of my favourites. Morden's Faithful Hound."

Gwen's eyes gleamed as a wooden dog appeared on the floor where the spell had struck. It was huge, easily the size of a fully grown Mastiff. The dog stoically gazed over the surroundings, taking in all that it surveyed.

"It can see in the dark, it can detect invisibility and it can defend an area to its death."

Henry waved his hand, and the dog launched itself at Gwen, stopping an inch before her face. It was so fast that she had barely time to react.

"That's incredibly useful," Gwen declared, touching the wooden dog with her finger, patting its head. It even smelled nice. "Does it do much damage?"

Henry chuckled. "It can defeat a tier III Magical Beast at your tier. At my tier, it can take on a tier V to VI creature. It's a useful utility spell."

"Would I be able to summon, you know, a 'dark' dog?" Gwen asked carefully.

Henry tried to imagine that. "What a terrifying suggestion." He shuddered at the thought. He had modelled his hound on the old hunting dogs they had in Hungary. What manner of exotic and nightmarish beings would emerge from Gwen's imagination?

Her Master dismissed the dog. "Then there's this Signature Spell of the Conjuration school." Henry invoked the magic effortlessly. "Dimension Door!"

Sufina blinked out of existence and appeared a few metres away, waving at Gwen.

"Teleportation!" Gwen gushed with delight. Gods, she wanted access to Teleportation as much as she wished to Fly. A Mage with both could only be endangered in combat if they were OoM.

"Yes, but it’s a complicated spell to learn. If you fail to materialise or end up inside a wall, expect to be bruised black and red for a month, inside and out."

Gwen nodded solemnly, promising that she would learn the spell and not abuse its purpose.

"Finally, though not the most tasteful of spells, this is one of the most useful, especially with Sufina's help." Henry pointed at the ceiling. "Eilard's Dark Tentacles!"

Tendrils of barbed plants sprouted from the ceiling and began to search for targets. Not finding any hostiles, they coiled back, forming a hedge of lianas.

"Can you guess what the great boon of this spell is?"

"It can be cast on ceilings?" Gwen asked.

"Of course, there's that." Henry chortled. "I can trap, slow or restrain, as well as disrupt other Mages’ incantations. Unlike the dog, which cannot move far from the spot, the tentacles can be summoned within thirty metres of the caster and has a reach equating your affinity."

Gwen gushed. All the spells seemed so good! "No new Evocation?" she asked just in case.

"I wouldn't think so," Henry said. "Normal Mages do not train in multiple schools at once. My advice is to focus on Conjuration. The spells I have noted all possess excellent utility for offence, defence and disruption."

"I shall take on your advice, Master," Gwen replied. "I shall learn Faithful Hound, Dark Tentacles, and Dimension Door." Gwen also wanted the Minor Elemental spell, but she already had two Familiars who consumed her mana and her vitality mercilessly. The hound was a persistent effect and it could detect invisibility, implying that she would not be at the mercy of an invisible enemy like the last time at Elvia's manor. Dark Tentacles, meanwhile, sounded as useful as it was nasty.

Then a thought struck her. "Master, can I maintain two copies of each spell with my different elements? I have two Familiars, after all."

Henry paused, then his eyed widened. "Don't try it without supervision." He swallowed nervously. "I can access all four primary elements but can only use one copy of the spell per invocation. You are special, though. As you possess two elemental gates, you may very well be able to summon two elemental effects."

The door to the private living room opened. Surya entered, his face alive with celebration. "What'd I miss?" he inquired jovially.

The old Magus had enjoyed a rare night of things going his way. The wayward daughter had been put in her place. His son, Kwan, actually showed support for his decisions for once. His three grandchildren were all doing exceptionally well. The future looked bright.

"Good God, what's that?" There was a mass of writhing tentacles on the ceiling of the second-floor living room.

Surya stared at Gwen, who flushed with excitement. He glanced at Sufina, who had taken on a scandalous version of Gwen's form and was flitting about the place. Surya's artistic mind felt a sudden inspiration for a new art piece.

"Oh, just a demonstration." Henry snapped his fingers and the tentacles faded into the aether. "Gwen has chosen to specialise in Conjuration for now."

"I wish she had found Enchantment." Surya sulked. "I have so much to teach you as well."

Gwen forced herself to smile. She wasn't sure that she could stomach Caliban eating any other Mages while they were alive and kicking. That was a road that, once taken, was the path of no return. Elizabeth was the pariah who had taught them all that lesson.

"How are things down below?"

"Dying down," Surya replied. "You should be down there as well. The young folks are all clamouring for you."

"I will, thanks, Opa." Gwen hugged her opa, then relocated downstairs. From the lounge, the duo watched her go.

As soon as Gwen was gone, Sufina reached Henry's side, nursing him a cup of her Golden Mead.

"Thanks for coming out. I appreciate it," said Surya.

"It's nothing. That girl is going to be terrifying in a few years. I only hope she can remain as pure and incorruptible as she is now."

"Ain’t it about time you retired, old man? I just announced my retirement, after all. Give Gwen a few years, and she'll be running this place. Just gotta hold the fort until she's ready."

"Are giving up on the Salt child?"

"Yes, unless his mother gives up first. You saw what he's like out there. She's got her teeth well sunk into his neck. I wonder what the hell his father is doing, bloody useless Abjurer that he is."

"Indeed," Henry replied drily. "How curious that Gwen would emerge from an otherwise mundane union. How fortuitous."

"Speak for yourself," Surya joked.

Henry smiled a wan smile and sipped his mead. "I should be getting back. Tell Gwen I'll see her at the grot for Conjuration training every Saturday and Sunday in addition to her group work. I'll send over the Abjurer once their school starts next week."

"Thanks again," Surya noted. "Take care, mate."

Henry waved. There was a silver flash of Conjuration as the beacon as the Tower locked on, then the Master of Sydney departed.

"Hey, she's back!" Someone called out excitedly.

"Gwen!"

"Miss Song!"

A dozen voices called out as Gwen descended the circular stairs that led down to the living room. She appeared even more striking now that her abilities were out in the open. Many who had thought Gwen merely an uncommonly talented sorceress now openly vied for her favour.

"Cousin." Richard sidled up to her, drink in hand, passing her a flute of sparkling juice.

"Thanks, Richard, but you didn't have to give up your inheritance," Gwen said seriously.

"Nonsense! Do you think I could concentrate on being a legendary Conjurer if I had to deal with House politics and business deals? You ever wonder why Kwan was such a terrible Transmuter?"

"Well, if you put it like that," Gwen chided Richard mirthfully. "Are you hoping that I'll waste all my time dealing with the politics so you can remain top dog?"

"The business of a Magister runs itself," Richard answered effortlessly. "People would fall over themselves to do business with a Tower Master."

"How could I possess a Tower?" Gwen asked. A base of her own was something that was still too distant to even imagine. "I am not even a Magus—I don't even have a single School in the middle tier!"

"Bah, a matter of time." Richard raised his glass, and many of those listening to their conversation did the same. "To Gwen and her Tower. May I occupy the level below the Master Suite!"

Glasses clinked, waves of laughter passed through the guests.

"How many schools of Magic do you know, anyhow?" Richard tested the waters, activating a subtle earring and its Glyph.

"Why, who wants to know?" Gwen's eyes narrowed. Richard was using a private Message spell. "Just the two and a half."

"Not two and Transmutation and Abjuration?" Richard lowered his voice, compressing it somehow so that it took on a conspiratorial air.

"Of course not, don't be absurd!" Gwen replied quietly, but she couldn't use private Messages spells yet nor possessed a Magical item to do so like Richard, so she had to lean in closer to his ears. The intimate act drew envious looks from those who had been hoping for a closer interaction between the duo.

"Fine, at least tell me if your opa is the giving you all the crystals to feed your Familiars. I don't see you generating currency at all."

Gwen blushed. She had been using her opa as a kind of a limitless credit card. Richard was right though, Gwen needed to disembark the Opa Sugar Train ASAP if she ever wanted to strike out on her own. "It's a secret!" She playfully punched Richard in the ribs.

Richard's face blossomed into happiness. Gwen felt her skin crawl. Maybe he liked getting beat up? Did Richard have that kind of inclination? After all, nobody could be completely perfect, and Richard was no exception.

What Gwen didn't know was that, in her moment of celebration, she hadn't noted the little word game in Richard's line of logic. She had just experienced a moment of triumph which offered relief from her demonic mother. Her Master had shown her a fabulous future, and Opa had virtually proclaimed her as his heir. She was drunk on victory. It was in moments like these that men and women were often at their weakest.

Beside her, Richard was beyond thrilled. He had finally confirmed that Gwen had more than one Familiar. It could only mean one of two things. Either Gwen had surpassed the constraints of existing magical theory and had developed an original spell to gain two Lightning Familiars… or she had two distinct elements.

His eyes measured the ebullient girl beside him, scanning her remarkable physiology for clues. The blue glow that Gwen now maintained in her eyes was the effect of the Quasi-elemental Lightning, but other than that, she appeared paler than he recalled. Was it Air? Or Ice? He was dying to find out, but Gwen was accosted by a dozen people who surrounded her like supplicants around an altar of knowledge.

Richard felt a yawn coming on. Typically, the guests would be long gone, but thanks to the events of the night, they had chosen to stay, far extending the hospitality of his father.

Would Gwen stay overnight then? He wanted to know more about her as well, about her power, her past, her life growing up. These facts had all been denied by Gwen's spiteful mother, who had kept her removed from the family.

Curiously, he regarded his cousin, who flitted about the men and women effortlessly. She seemed so in her element, picking up conversations from here and there. Where had she acquired that kind of skill? As far as he knew, Gwen had been gloomy and quiet, at least according to Helena.

"Thank you all for coming, friends. Happy New Year!" Richard's father was likewise growing irritated with the guests who insisted on staying. His household staff were all stifling yawns and straining to keep awake. Surya had informed him that Lord Henry had gone, so there was no more reason to be polite within his own home.

"Next time, friend!" he called out to them and began to make the rounds, shaking their hands and ushering them toward the door.

For the first time in her life, as a team of four—Kwan, Tali, Richard and herself, Gwen and her family shook hands and well-wished the guests at the door.

"Visit me at Lil's!" Petunia Wallace hugged Gwen before making her way out. "Transfer if you can."

Once the guests were gone, the living room grew cold.

Gwen shivered. Her dress didn't offer much protection, and the harbour air was frigid when blowing in from the Tasman Sea. Richard pulled a coat from his Storage Ring and placed it over her shoulders, catching her looking at him strangely.

"They teach you that in Prince's?" Gwen returned winsomely.

"Are you staying over? Surya is using one of the guest rooms. I'll get the servants to set up another for you."

"Please." Now that the public was gone, the tension drained from Gwen's body. "My feet…. beautiful is pain."

Richard nodded and led his cousin into the house, where the housekeeper was already working way overtime.

"Thanks, Nam." He nodded approvingly to the middle-aged NoM woman. "After you're done, go get some shut-eye. I'll let Dad know that everyone can get a day off tomorrow, fully paid."

"Glad to be of service, sir." The housekeeper bowed and left the room.

Bypassing Richard, Gwen rushed into the bathroom and wiped away her mascara-laden lashes, her foundation and her bronzers.

"I'll be back." Richard left Gwen to her labours, then returned half an hour later with tea and biscuits. “Gwen, are you decent?" He knocked.

"Come in!"

Like himself, Gwen was dressed in shorts and a white singlet. They even had the same pastel shorts. Richard laughed and placed the cup and jug down beside Gwen on the nightstand.

"What's your plan from here on out?" he inquired.

"Training, lots of training," Gwen replied happily. She couldn't wait to tap into those Conjuration spells at the higher tier. "Then group training with my team for the Inter-High. We're supposed to be getting a new member as well."

"What of all your secrets? Could this new member handle the likes of yourself and Yue?" Richard asked casually, leaning back against his chair.

"What secrets?" Gwen asked innocently, now that she was au naturel, her skin glowed.

"Oh, you know, the fact that you have multiple schools," Richard pointed out.

"People know that already."

"What about your second element? When are you revealing that?"

Gwen stared at her cousin.

Richard leaned in so that they were face to face. "I want you to trust me, Gwen," he intoned carefully. "I am your ally, I propose to give up the inheritance for you, and I've done just that. I merely ask that you don't keep me out of your life."

Gwen blushed. This Richard, what a thing to say. "Is that a proposition?" she inquired coyly, lowering her voice, hoping to tease him a little.

"Are you offering?" he countered, his face not moving a muscle, his demeanour cool as a cucumber.

"Fine." Gwen relented. Somehow, she simply felt that this cousin, who did not exist in her world, was trustworthy. It was a gut feeling, but one towards which she held a strong opinion. "But no telling your mates at Prince's. Lord knows, I have to square off against your school's elite team."

"I can tell you their stats if you like," Richard offered. "If you can keep a secret yourself."

Gwen considered the offer, all's fair in love and war, right? "I do have a second element. It's Void."

Richard drew in a shuddering breath. "Can… can I see?" He instantly caught his transgression. "No, no, never mind. The cost of using a Negative Element. Sorry, no need to show me. I believe you."

Gwen hadn't wanted to show Richard either, but she felt smitten. Richard had always seemed a curious creature to her. Sometimes, he felt akin to an esoteric monk. Richard often remarked on her beauty, but more in the manner of a man appreciating the gentle curves of a Bonzai. He was a gifted Mage but didn't seem to crave magical power for the sake of power itself. Likewise, the way he blustered through one faux pas after another, was more an act to push everything and everyone away, including his parents.

"It's okay, I want to show you," Gwen returned earnestly. "It's just an unempowered summon. I'll be right as rain after a good night's sleep and a hearty breakfast." She gathered her wits and invoked the Conjuration Sigil. "Caliban," she called out.

The netherworld worm slithered through time and space and made itself known in the guest bedroom. "Shaa! Shaa!" It sidled up to Gwen and nuzzled her lovingly.

Richard gripped the handrails of the tub chair with such ferocity that his nails dug through the leather. Gwen's cousin sat and regulated his breathing for a few seconds until his heartrate fell within acceptable parameters for polite conversation.

"That is a Void Beast." His voice shook. "They shouldn't exist. The academy has never found a specimen, living or dead."

"You know about them?" Gwen was surprised.

"I know of them," Richard replied. "Can I… touch it?"

Gwen willed Caliban to face her cousin. The translucent body of the obsidian servant wiggled its way towards Richard. "Shaa! Shaa!" It showed off its best side, opening up a crack in is carapace to make the gurgling hissing noise which issued from its lamprey's mouth.

To Gwen's surprise, Richard placed a hand upon Caliban without a second thought. "You're beautiful," he said, his voice suddenly cracking with emotion. "I feel… amazed."

Richard picked up Caliban in the manner of a sausage dog. Gwen could hardly comprehend what she was seeing. No one had ever picked up Caliban. SHE hadn't picked up Caliban herself. It seemed to enjoy Richard's touch. It writhed in her cousin's hands, coiling around his arm. "Shaa! Shaa!" It joyously cooed.

Caliban, being coy?! Gwen felt that everything she had known about her Familiar had turned upside down. Caliban was trying to rub up against Richard like a cat! It was covering his hands with that viscus goo which leaked from its mouth. Oh, gods, Gwen realised with a shudder, it's licking his hand! A Lovecraftian kitten? Was that even possible?

"Let me show you something as well, as a sign of our trust," Richard said, putting down Caliban to slither back towards Gwen. "Lea, come out and meet my cousin."

At his command, a sudden outpouring of Elemental Water filled the room, upping the humidity tenfold.

A female figure rose from behind Richard. Gwen saw a transparent face that was beautifully sculpted, with deeply set eyes and a high ridgeline nose. The hair, assuming she had hair, was a cascade of tiny waterfalls that fell from her scalp in eddies and swirls. Her upper body was lithe and likewise crystal clear, with well-formed breasts underneath a silk dress of aquamarine. With unblinking eyes without eyelids, the "girl" gazed at Gwen through two ultramarine opals.

"You… you have a Spirit?" Gwen's eyes concurrently glowed with excitement. She had only ever seen Henry's Familiar, Sufina. Richard’s was the only other example of a humanoid Spirit she had seen to date.

"Picked up her on my Field Trip. Lea is an Undine. A high-tier Spirit."

It was now Gwen's turn to suck in her breath. An Undine! A Water Spirit, a river ghost, a legendary creature that seduced and drowned unwary travellers. They were said to be intelligent to the point of being human. Like Sufina, Lea could take independent action, think for itself, and perform complex tasks. "How can there be an Undine in Australia?!" Gwen asked naively.

"Prince's takes yearly Field Trips around the world," Richard explained patiently. "I found Lea in Scotland during our highland survivalist training."

The Undine then seemed to notice something about Gwen. It drifted across the bed. She touched Gwen's cheeks. Her hands were cold but felt refreshing upon her skin.

"I like her, Richard," Lea spoke, her annunciation achieved by the vibration of liquid particles. "She's got a wonderful aura!"

IT TALKS? Gwen swallowed. Not even Alesia's Caracal could talk.

Lea left Richard entirely and splashed into Gwen, drenching her upper body as it swirled and flowed excitedly, pasting Gwen's hair to her face in paintbrush streaks.

"What is this scent?" Lea kept asking. "It's so nice. I feel like I am somewhere else, somewhere older."

Richard had no idea what was happening either. He looked at Gwen expectantly. Gwen, however, had noted more pressing matters. She wasn't wearing a bra, and now she was offering Richard a free show.

"Lea!" Richard commanded awkwardly. "Don't be so rude to our guest, pick up after yourself."

The water on her clothes and the mattress collated at once into a ball. Lea winked, then returned to her pocket dimension. Unfortunately, clammy clothes didn't help either. Gwen made it known that she desired to change into a fresh set of sleeping clothes.

"Sorry." Richard's face was as stoic as ever. "And that's all. Goodnight!"

"Goodnight." Gwen tugged on Richard's sleeves. "And Richard?"

"Yes, Gwen?"

"Thanks for looking out for me."

The grin Richard returned was full of teeth. "No, Miss Song. I hope you'll be the one looking after me."

Chapter twenty-four

So Long, and Sanks for the Fush

The combined effort of conjuring Caliban and the thrilling triumph of the night before ensured that Gwen slept like the dead until midday, awakening only when her hunger caused her stomach to contract.

There was a brief moment of disorientation when she opened her eyes and found herself yet again in an unfamiliar bedroom. The return of pleasant, yesteryear memories, thankfully, returned her to the embrace of expensive linen.

Another snooze later, Gwen dressed. The servants had retired for the day, so she helped herself to the fridge and made a cold sandwich of leftover roasts. Being famished, she polished off the rest of the ham, washing the meat down with glasses of cranberry juice.

When she finished, she found a note left for her by the kitchen counter.

"Gwen, I am heading back to Prince's. Good luck with the training. Kwan and Tali are going over to Surya's. Gramps told me to let you sleep. We'll catch up for luncheons."

—Richard

Just as Gwen considered whether she should call Richard or Surya, a Message spell bloomed by her ear.

Ding-Ding!

It was Alesia. Gwen took the Message on her device.

"Hey, tiger! I just spoke to Master. Well done, sister. I can't believe I was away when all these terrible things happened. Are you free to catch up today?"

"Allie!" Gwen gushed. "Yes, I am free."

"Awesome, I am dying to meet up. Also, I have your new team member with me, do you mind if I bring him?"

"A guy?" Gwen paused for a moment. She hadn't heard that their new member was going to be a guy. Wouldn't another girl give a better vibe? After all, a well-spiced team naturally included Posh, Ginger, Sporty, Baby, and Miscellaneous number five. "What's he like?"

"Ha, curious? He's incredibly handsome, dashing and dreamy. A real melt-your-heart kind of heartthrob."

Gwen laughed. Alesia was much too young at heart. "He sounds like a magazine model," she retorted. "Do you think he's the right fit for our group?"

"You'll have to come and see," Alesia replied mysteriously. "He's trustworthy. Completely clean. The Auckland Tower's Master owes Henry a big one and so loaned us his protege. You girls will have to play nice while he's on exchange for the next six months."

"Oh?" Gwen was very much interested now. An exchange student from another city, another country! "I'll be along shortly. Where do you want to have our luncheon?"

"What do you feel like?"

"Sushi?" Gwen said the first thing that came to her mind. She had already eaten the better quarter of a leftover ham but was confident seafood should be no obstacle to her starved body. After all, meat digested in one stomach, seafood in another, dessert sat in the appendix, which serves as a reserve stomach for teenage girls. Everybody knew this.

"Great, see you at Pyrmont, we'll meet at Sokio's. I'll get us a table."

Alesia hung up, and Gwen was impressed. Even she had heard of the most expensive sashimi bar in Sydney. Gwen had vague memories of eating there once, courtesy of her mother, but only recalled eating the cheap stuff, such as the Tamago rolls. From memory, she recalled that Sokio's was booked out weeks in advance, how was Alesia hoping for a three on the first day of the New Year?

Gwen looked herself over in the mirror of the kitchen splashback. She was in no mind to change her outfit, but Alesia never showed up anywhere without dressing up.

The clock showed eleven.

Gwen changed into an unbranded long-sleeve dress she had found in the country. The fabric was coarse, but the cut was trim and minimalist. It had only been forty buckaroos, but Gwen was confident she wore it like couture.

From Kirribilli, she crossed the bay via the ferry, mindful of the public. This time, thanks to the NoMs keeping their distance, the journey was completed without incident. It was the aura she now carried; something Henry said Senior Mages acquired after years of devotion to their craft. As the caster's Astral Soul attuned to their element, they assumed the quirks and qualities of said element, becoming akin to Demi-humans. When in public and especially among NoMs, non-magical humans innately understood that here was a being capable of crushing them like vermin. Which suited Gwen fine; if someone groped her tooshie again, the ferry might just sink.

Gwen was glad to find that Pyrmont Wharf had remained unchanged from her old world. It was still a series of gentrified warehouses converted into fancy restaurants with impressively high ceilings. As it was the first day of the new year and a Friday, Alesia's preferred fine-dining establishment had patrons spilling on to the sidewalk.

Gingerly, Gwen approached the maitre d', watching the woman's eyes scanning her from cotton dress to leather sandal. "Hello, I have a booking under Be Botton?"

The madam browsed her notebook. "I have no appointments under a Miss de Botton." The maitre d's ruby red lips had a smile that didn't reach her eyes. "Also, I am afraid we're booked out for lunch entirely."

Gwen blinked. No booking? Retreating, she found a comfortable position under a shade-cloth and waited. The cork heels of her sandals bit into her ankles uncomfortably. Cheap was cheap, Gwen sighed. Magical shoes weren't something she could currently afford.

Thankfully, she didn't have to wait long for Alesia. In retina-searing red, Gwen saw a figure cutting through the crowd.

Alesia de Botton was radiant as always; her striking appearance made more alluring by her dark makeup. Presently, she wore a flowing red maxi that wrapped around her peerless figure. As she walked, her dark auburn hair bounced and bobbed, her tanned legs peeping in between sheets of scarlet chiffon.

Beside Alesia stomped an iron giant.

Gwen did not use the word giant lightly, for the young man could only be described as Brobdingnagian. The Mage was a Maori; his cultural roots made evident by the ta moko across his nose and cheeks. A block of green jade hung from his muscular neck, dangling from a length of twine. Around his torso, a tight black t-shirt barely constrained the man's well-defined chest and shoulders.

“Ye gods!” Gwen heard herself say. That boy has brawn for days. As the duo approached, the crowd parted as though the Red Sea before the Magi Moses.

"Gwennie!" Alesia ran the last few steps toward her, enveloping Gwen with the full momentum of her body. Gwen likewise wrapped her arms around Alesia, sinking into the soft folds of her beautiful dress. "Gods, it feels like a lifetime since I last saw you."

"It does, doesn't it?"

Alesia hugged her with the fierceness of a mother hen folding her wings over a long-lost chick. Finally, Alesia stepped back and introduced the seven-foot giant. "This is Whetu Tikitiki O Taranga, your new Abjurer. Whetu, say hello to Gwen Song, the youngest future Magister this side of the Coral Sea."

"Kia ora, Gwen Song!" Whetu greeted her. To Gwen's surprise, the young man had a voice that was gentle and pleasant.

"It's lovely to meet you, Whē-tú. Am I saying that right?"

"Aye, you've got it down pat." Whetu's dark eyes scanned his teammate. "Youse fully beeutiful Gwen, I amejened some when very pretty, but yew blue all egg-specations."

"Aww, that's sweet, thank you, Whetu," Gwen answered. The young man was well-mannered; his eyes had not wandered at all. They shook, his hands swallowing her white fingers.

"You understood what he's saying?" Alesia had a shocked expression. "Whetu, are you using the stone? I can't understand a word you're saying."

"Gimme a phew sex, Miss." Whetu fiddled with a jade earring. "How's this?"

"Much better!" Alesia patted him on the shoulder. "Let's not have that pug sandwich incident again, shall we?"

Gwen laughed. Did people here not understand the Kiwi accent? Was it because the cities were so geographically and socially isolated?

"On the trip over, Whetu asked for 'sex fush cockies', then 'sucks pack of hot weens'. We almost got chased out by the old lady at the ferry's canteen."

"No!" Gwen was beside herself. "It's not that bad! He asked for six fish cocktails, then a pack of hot chicken wings."

"You understood all of that?" Alesia's blue eyes were the size of almonds. "You're not wearing a Translator Ioun Stone, are you?"

"You can't?" Gwen asked in surprise. "The Kiwis are a part of the Mageocracy; they speak English!"

"That's derogatory, Miss Gwen," Whetu declared, "The ki-wee is a sacrid and benevolent Spirit of the land, and many of our tribes see them as owners of the land. I am from one of these Clans, and we always speak of them with respect."

"Sorry, Whetu," Gwen said sweetly. "Assuming Allie can get us in there, it'll be my shout. Have you had sashimi before?"

"Not much for raw fush me-self, Miss, but I'll take you up on your company."

Across the walkway, Alesia flowed towards the maitre d' who'd been keeping an eye on the conspicuously eye-catching trio.

"Seat for three," Alesia demanded in a tone that indicated the sky was blue. "Window area."

The maitre d' visibly began to sweat. Alesia was a powerful Mage, perhaps one of the top Combat Mages in Sydney. Even if she didn't declare herself, the aura she exuded was palpable.

Thankfully, a passing floor manager knew his VIP list well enough to recognise the auburn air and flaming dress, if not Alesia's face. "Magus de Botton!" He leapt down the stairs in twos and threes, sprinting across the lobby toward the podium. "Thank you for humbling our establishment."

The maitre d' gazed at her manager with careful inquisitiveness.

“Sophie is new. We're so sorry," The manager mirthfully scolded the junior manager. "Sophie, apologise to Miss de Botton and take them to the third floor, harbour view suite."

Sophie bowed smartly, lowering herself. "Please accept my apologies, Miss De Botton. Please, come this way."

Alesia motioned for the other two to join her. The crowd waiting in the long line said nothing.

Gwen felt ambivalent. The deferential treatment of those who were privileged remained a bit of a stickler in her throat. Presumably, she could also receive the same regard once she was famous enough, though the thought of following in Alesia’s footsteps made her scalp crawl.

The three of them were seated in a spacious private room. Outside was a view of the harbour, with seagulls battling the dizzying heat of Sydney's summer. It was getting hotter year by year, the news had said, resulting in increased Mermen activity along the coast.

"Anata no tanoshimi no tame ni—," said the Japanese chef with a heavy accent. He retrieved a struggling red snapper from its salt-water tank, pinning it to the chopping board. Gulping air, its mouth silently screamed. The fish was rare, or so the chef assured them as he filleted its still-living flesh. Once plated, its crystalline flesh laid like white jade over a bed of enchanted ice.

"This is an aboom-a-nation," Whetu uttered unhappily. "Wot are they doing to this poor fush? Why is it still moving?"

"It's to keep the flesh fresh and its mana intact." Alesia stabbed a chopstick into a slice and dipped it gingerly into the ponzu sauce. "Oh my, it's as good as I recall. Beautiful."

Gwen likewise skewered a chunk. Knowing that the fish didn't register pain the same way as humans soothed her conscience.

Watching the girls eat, Whetu finally tried a piece. "Tastes like the sea." He sighed. "Poor fush."

When finally the fish ceased its death throes, Whetu's nostrils flared. Sensing the big man's unease, Gwen ventured to ask him some questions. "So Whetu, can you tell me a bit about yourself?"

"Shure thin Miss." He made himself comfortable as possible on the tiny stool.

"Please, Whetu, just Gwen is fine."

"Alright, Gwen, what do you want to know?"

"Where are you from?"

"Auckland, east coast of the north island. My people originated from the hot springs to the south, near Turangi. Mermen raided Rotorua. Dad moved us out of the hills and into the city, where I attended high school."

"I am sorry to hear that. Are your family safe?" Gwen asked compassionately, giving him a pat on the knee.

"Most of us lived, that's good enough." Whetu shrugged stoically, shaking one leg reflexively. "We were two thousand-odd when we left Rotorua, about three-quarters made it."

"How old are you, Whetu?"

"Sex-teen on sivven-teen, same as you."

"You are very tall!" Gwen marvelled. "Are all your people so stout?"

"Me brother's taller." Whetu smiled, his tattoos moving and shifting accordingly.

"How many siblings do you have?"

"Had four, three now," he replied.

"Oh, I am sorry to hear that." Gwen was taken aback by his frankness. If Sydney, with millions of souls, was considered by the tier-one cities to be a Frontier, she couldn't imagine how Wellington or Auckland was surviving the Demi-human incursions.

The chef reappeared with a glass tank full of writhing squid. Gwen watched with fascinated horror as he splayed a multicoloured cephalopod across the chopping board. With one deft swish, the chef degloved the creature, extracting its single bone plate. As a finishing touch, the still-living squid was placed atop a small bowl of delicate-looking rice, painting it rainbow as it danced and oozed.

"Beautiful, look at that," Alesia cooed. "I love this dish, Rainbow Dancing Squid."

Gwen and Whetu silently watched two more bowls of rainbow squid receive their carcasses. Once the performance was done, he pointed to a small teaspoon of wasabi-laced soy sauce and made the motion of pouring it over the squid. "Tanoshinde kudasai!"

"Here we go!" Alesia uttered with anticipation and delight. She took the teaspoon carefully and poured it over the squid. Where the rainbow had previously faded, it now burst into multicoloured hues, misting the air with an incandescent spray of colour before beginning to "dance".

"These are four HDM crystals per serve, you know," Alesia looked like she was having the time of her life. She waited until her squid had spent its last motes of vitality before mixing it in with the rice and tasting it with a look of heavenly pleasure.

Gwen looked over at Whetu, whose face was both ashen and disturbed. "I guess we better dig in, Whetu, that's someone's weekly wage, it'd be more disrespectful to let it suffer all that for no reason."

Whetu nodded and sloshed the squid into his mouth, swallowing it without chewing. Gwen mixed the squid into the bowl before adding the enchanting sauce, feeling no love for the macabre display.

The taste was so-so, but the vitality she felt contained within was unlike anything she had never experienced. The squid bowl was akin to a mouthful of Sufina's mead. Food like this was why wealthy Mages had better health and bigger Mana Pools.

With mixed feelings, Gwen and Whetu sat through the rest of the meal, watching the same chef butcher a Spiny Octopus, a jewel-like Abalone, then a live scampi the size of her arm.

Whetu protested each dish by shoving each serving the food into his mouth, swallowing without tasting. Alesia appeared a regular, savouring each dish.

Gwen ate in silence, guiltily absorbing the vitality. She ended up eating Whetu's portion when a live Eel was grilled on hot coals, citing that torturing a Sacred River God was profane. Alesia loved the eel. As for Gwen, she was too afraid to confess that she had picked sushi.

"So, what are your abilities like, Whetu?" Gwen changed the topic.

"I am a tier-III Abjurer." Whetu pointed a hand at the greenstone necklace that hung heavily from his neck. "I specialise in dis."

Gwen leaned in closer. The block of greenstone glowed. When Whetu activated his innate talent, the stone changed into a stylised fishhook.

"Whoa!" Gwen did a double-take. "Is that mineral or stone?"

"It's the pounamu their people worship, a kind of jade," Alesia butted into the conversation. "It’s got above-average physical and elemental resistance. With Whetu here, your team is sure to rise in the ranks."

"I'll be sure to thank the man later." Gwen grinned confidently. If Alesia was impressed with Whetu's element, then it meant he was something special.

The Japanese chef once again returned. He thanked the diners one by one for their patronage and presented them with a gift from the restaurant for the new year, a slice of imported Shizuoka muskmelon, its redolent flesh dripping with flavour and mana.

The three of them savoured the moment, crushing the crisp melon in their mouths, feeling its energy infusing their bodies.

"Dis amazing. I feel like a verjun again," Whetu said.

"I am pretty sure you're still a virgin, tiger, at least from what your Master told me." Alesia snickered. "Plenty of opportunities, though, your new team’s all-star and all-girl.”

"Sweet ass." Whetu swallowed his melon and gave them a thumbs up. The tattoo about his mouth somewhat resembled an impressive beard in the atmospheric lighting of the restaurant, making him look far older than his tender years.

"Gwen, you wanna take him back to the dorm?"

"Sure. Are we resuming training at the school?"

"Of course, tiger, you can't represent Blackwattle without training at its facilities. Once you pass the prelims, the school will also serve as your home base. You guys are going to have to have home-ground matches there, and away matches at the other schools."

"What about the stadium match?" Gwen asked. The notes her Master gave spoke of an arena.

"That's for the regional top eight, tiger."

"Ah, right." Gwen made a note to do more homework as soon as possible. In a world without Google, how did anyone know anything about anything?!

Chapter twenty-five

All Work and no Lunch

The day had begun to wane when Gwen and Whetu finally made it back to the dorm. To Gwen's surprise, the young man hadn’t yet received his Storage Ring, so Gwen had Alesia transfer Whetu's luggage into hers.

"Whoa, big spender. A medium ring." Alesia whistled. "Nice work, tiger!"

"It was a gift from Opa and the big man," Gwen answered euphemistically.

"Lucky you, I had to maim a Magus for mine," Alesia said nostalgically. "I suppose that's why they ban honour duels to the death these days. The war was a great time for picking up bric-a-brac trinkets from rivals."

Awkwardly, Gwen and Whetu ignored Alesia's explosive revelation.

"Gwen, do you think we can stop over some shops? I need to purchase some supplies," Whetu requested.

"Of course, Whetu, we'll get right on it."

They arrived at the dorm a few hours later, Whetu having purchased all the necessary supplies for living in a new home, including a copious amount of female skin care.

"It keeps the colour fresh and the lines clean," Whetu said, introducing Gwen to the finer points of Tā moko maintenance. "The creme also keeps the skin smooth like a babe's."

Inside, Gwen helped Whetu settle into his room before returning to her own. The shared loft was as the trio had left it. From the looks of the undisturbed furniture, neither Yue nor Elvia had returned.

Gwen called Debora. Debs answered within a second.

"Hey, Debs. I am back at the dorm. How about yourself? Are you back?"

"Yep, can't wait to get started on the sweaty training. Where are you now?"

"I'll meet you down at the canteen. Got our new Abjurer with us."

"Oh, nice. What's she like?"

"It's a guy, and he's super cute."

Debora grew silent.

Gwen hung up and placed her luggage and clothing back in the wardrobe. She then bushed her hair to straighten out the salty tangles from the harbour. When she met up with Whetu again, they were both starved for supper.

"Very nice building," Whetu remarked.

"This is luxurious?" Gwen asked, puzzled.

"It's sweet-ass." Whetu placed a hand on the aluminium handrail of the elevator. "In my old dorm, the lift is for cargo. The doors, they close like dis." He made a motion with his hands like two parts of a jaw enclosing. "Youse can get stuck in there. Oooh, it can cut your head off."

The young Maori was so expressive that Gwen couldn't help but giggle. Whetu was a funny guy, and his easy manners helped her relax.

Arriving just as dinner was being served, Whetu rubbed both hands together expansively. "I love it already, Gwen. Free food?!"

Gwen nodded, saying a prayer for the cook. She watched the big man polish off a whole barbecue chicken by himself with a side serving of a dozen dinner rolls and a small mountain of mash. The rest of the canteen likewise marvelled at the giant eating enough for three grown men.

Mid-meal, the lift opened and revealed Debora in a tight singlet and bell-bottom shorts that rode high on her buttocks. "Gwen!" She ran across the foyer and into the dining, wrapping her arms around Gwen's neck, kissing her on the cheek.

"Hey Debs, meet Whetu. Whetu, this is Debora Jones, our Transmuter."

Debora had no intention of removing herself from Gwen's neck, so she arched her back and shifted her weight instead, extending a hand towards the gigantic Maori.

Whetu looked up from his half-chewed chicken, embarrassed, his mitts glistening with grease.

"Finish up, no rush." Debora retracted her hand, moving it over Gwen's waist. "What's wrong, Gwen? You're so tense!"

Gwen endured. "So what did you do for New Year’s?"

"More church, plus stuff with the family, I heard you went back home?"

Unlike Yue and Elvia, Debora was never privy to some of Gwen's more personal affairs, especially those involving her family. She had only a vague idea that Gwen had a bad relationship with her parents, something involving a messy divorce. "Nothing in particular. Sorted out some drama with the fam. I am free from Mum for a while."

"Awesome." Debora's hands were wandering a little too north of her waist. Politely, Gwen arrested her friend's wandering hands.

Debora hugged Gwen from behind, then suddenly withdrew herself. "You're still using that scale?" she accused cattily.

"Yeah, why?"

"It's dangerous. You don't know what's gone into it. You should get rid of it."

"Sorry, no can do, Debs. My grandfather crafted it for me."

Debora removed herself with a huff, then sat, crossing her legs. Gwen noticed that Debs was sporting the traditional Aussie flip-flop, her toenails painted a dark cherry.

"Do you like the colour?" Debora asked, changing the subject.

"Yeah, they suit your skin tone well," Gwen remarked.

"I wish I had your paleness." Debora placed a hand on Gwen's knee. "If I get any more tanned, I am going to look like a rock."

"I heard that folks use Polymorph for cosmetic effects, though they’re only temporary," Gwen assured her. "You're only two tiers away."

"But it won't be natural" Her fingers moved up from Gwen's knee.

Gwen spanking Debora's increasingly adventurous hand with a flick from her fingers. "Whetu, are you done?"

"YES!" Whetu eyes flitted between Gwen and Debora. "You chucks dating?"

"No," Gwen refuted, much to Debora's chagrin. "We're friends though, and I trust Debora."

Debora's mood lightened. "Debora Jones." She extended her hand toward Whetu.

"Whetu Tikitiki O Taranga."

Her friend shook Whetu's bear-sized mitts without a single kink in her brow. Confused, she wondered if Indigenous folk specifically triggered Debora. But then again, that hypothesis didn't hold water either—Debs was chill with Tommy; it must be something to do with the Spirit Magic.

The three of them made small talk, mostly regarding the monsters of New Zealand.

"No way," Debora uttered in surprise. "You guys have Halflings?"

"Aye." Whetu shrugged. "Had ’em for years. They came over with the Brits during the colonial era."

"Hobbits?" Gwen inquired with great interest.

"What are Hobbits?" Whetu questioned.

The big man informed the girls that Halflings were a humanoid sapient species common on the Island of the Long Cloud. In a place as rich in mana as New Zealand sapient Demi-human species such as Halflings, Dwarves, and even the occasional Elf could be seen in the human cities. The caveat was that Demi-citizens had to be specially warded against the barrier's repulsion effects through Abjuration offsets.

"They're good farmers. Great at growing food, bad at fighting. We buy their vegetables on the regular. They cost quite a pretty crystal."

"What do they do with human currency?" Gwen asked, surprised by the cosmopolitan nature of it all; Sydney was strictly human.

"Some of them send it home to Europe for their families there who don't do so well," Whetu replied. "Others barter for materials."

"Wow, Wellington and Auckland sound like a treat," Gwen marvelled.

"Gwen!"

Yue and Elvia popped into the cafeteria, having returned from New Year’s at the Lindholm's. Gwen could imagine Yue's mother spending the entire night on wobbly legs, speaking to the high and mighty Mages who came and went.

"Everyone!"

Whetu watched the girls hug, studying the foursome that was to be his teammates.

"Whetu Tikitiki O Taranga," he introduced himself. "I’m your Abjurer."

"Elvia Lindholm"

"Yue Bai."

"Pleased to meet you."

"Likewise."

"Alrighty!" Gwen had the girls all sit so that they were five around a circular table. "The crew's all here. Let's get some dessert and introduce ourselves to Whetu."

The kitchen staff brought out five serves of custard pudding.

"I'll start, den." Whetu straightened himself. "I’m an Abjurer, and my element is pounamu."

"What's pounamu?" Yue asked, imagining a jackfruit or a durian.

"Dis is pounamu," Whetu replied, placing a slab of greenstone on the table. The girls felt a pulse of Abjuration mana emanate from the Kiwi. The chunk of stone came alive, forming into a dome.

"It's beautiful." Yue reached out and touched the conjured dome of jade-like substance. "Is it strong?"

"Very strong," Whetu said. "Resist water, fire and cold. Good against physical atticks too. The only drawback is that pounamu is extremely dense."

The girls nodded approvingly, looking at Whetu's biceps.

As the mana faded, the dome crumbled into motes of diffusing mana.

"Okay, me next," Yue announced. "I am half-arsed tier IV Evoker, tier V Fire. My best spell is Fireball, and my best record is six consecutive casts before I am OoM."

"Cor! Impressive." Whetu applauded resoundingly. "I bet you kick ess in a head-on fight!"

"Ha, thanks, Whetu, I'll be counting on you." Yue turned to her diminutive partner. "Elvia, you're up!"

"Hi," Elvia announced demurely, her face reddening. "I am a tier III healer, hybrid Conjuration-Evocation. I can do Cure Minor Wounds and Healing Word, Remove Diseases and Minor Restoration, as well as some simple vitality buffs."

"A healer!" Whetu reached out and grasped her hand. "You're my number one priority."

Elvia blushed ever more adorably, and Gwen felt her heart sing songs of worship. She reached out and enveloped Elvia, pulling the struggling girl against her chest. That Positive Energy! Evee's soft blonde hair, her boneless body! Snuggling with Elvia was heaven incarnate.

Debora looked on saltily. "As you already know, Whetu, I am Debora Jones. I am a tier IIITransmuter, tier V Earth element. I have a Spirit of Sand which allows me to control grains of Elemental Earth and mould them as I see fit."

"Very impressive!" Whetu gave them two thumbs up.

"Then there's me." Gwen awkwardly coughed. "Can we bring our heads a little closer?"

The team made a huddle.

"So er… I am tier IV Lightning, and tier III in the 'V-word'. Tier III Evocation and tier III Conjuration." Gwen whispered.

No matter how many times Yue had heard Gwen's talents, it still sounded like a bald-faced lie. The numbers were just too absurd, not to mention she also knew that Gwen had other untapped potentials.

"I am working on reaching tier IV Conjuration for this competition," Gwen added.

Whetu visibly shivered. He had read the data which Henry had sent over to his Master in Auckland.

"I'll show you everything when we have some privacy," Gwen suggested, then caught her faux pas.

"WHOA-HO!" Yue clapped. "Nice!"

Gwen blinked, then caught up. "Spells, Yue. I'll show Whetu my SPELLS."

Elvia blushed in Gwen's arms.

"For now, let's get some rest because tomorrow is the beginning of a long three months!"

The oddly shaped group retreated from the communal dining area. There was some time before their Inter-High training begun.

Debora leaned in for a kiss, received one on the cheek, then called it a night.

"Let's head up," Gwen announced. "Big day ahead."

Midway, Whetu disembarked for his suite while the girls returned to their long-vacated home.

"Uh, home sweet home!" Yue bounced onto her bed, instantly ruining the efforts of the housekeeper.

Elvia meticulously checked through her closet, replacing her linens and changing into something more comfortable. Gwen went into the bathroom and materialised her toiletries, preparing herself for a shower and a brush down.

The girls convened for another meeting in their pyjamas before they went to sleep, where Gwen revealed to them the developments with Surya, Henry and her mother.

"Yes!" Yue shouted jubilantly, ignoring the shushing from the other two girls. "Good on ya, Gwen!"

"I am happy for you." Elvia hugged her friend endearingly.

"Yep, that episode is behind us at last. Let's focus on the days ahead. For Inter-High victory!"

The two girls bumped fists against Gwen's own.

The lights dimmed.

Tomorrow was going to be a long day.

"UP! UP! UP!"

Gwen shot out of bed, gasping for air.

What the hell was happening, and what is that racket?

The racket was Alesia, and she was slapping Yue across the chest in the manner of a man playing a pair of bongos.

"Argh!" Yue slapped away her Master with futility. "Let me sleep!"

Elvia was already up, timidly dressing in the corner.

"Training starts at seven am! Didn't you read the memo?" Alesia asked incredulously, her face full of mirthful sadism.

"No," Gwen replied, confused as hell and still groggy. "What memo?"

Alesia looked at Gwen blankly. She materialised a thick, leather-bound notepad, which dropped at Gwen's bedside table. "This memo." She patted the book. "I forgot to deliver it. Ha-ha-ha. Fine. Just for today, you get thirty more minutes.”

Hell began.

The five of them had stamina training in the morning, followed by the inspiriting vision of watching Whetu devour enough breakfast for five. Then they had individual training with Alesia, joined by an assortment of tutors sent over from the Tower. Lunch was mana-rich, vitality-filled food by the tableful. After lunch came meditation and mana management. The afternoon involved more physical training, followed by dinner at six, where, once again, they ate the town. After dinner, the girls had individual theory lessons with their various tutors.

Every second day was group training, fighting mock battles and working on cooperative strategies.

The girls had Saturday and Sunday off for personal training and reflection. Gwen took every opportunity to visit her Master in the Tower, where Henry personally taught her the nuances of her new spells—Dimension Door, Morden's Faithful Hound and Eilard's Dark Tentacles.

"Morden's a Mage's Mage," Henry explained. "Truly the best of us. He was a nineteenth-century Scot, a Highlander, originally from the Greyhawk Citadels in Suilven. He invented numerous spells as a Conjurer supreme. A born genius, the Mage built a Tower alliance before such concepts existed—eight obsidian Towers across Scotland known as the Circle of Eight. Unfortunately, not all the Towers had Mages as rulers; some were local lords, one of which was the King of Scotland at the time. Inevitably, the mixed company meant that the coalition failed at keeping out the Britannic Mageocracy. Morden blamed it on the rulers lacking equal skill and talent. He believed very strongly that only men of intellect and sorcerous skill, whose primary interests were more than material, could keep Scotland free and magic pure."

"Sounds like he was an amazing Magi," Gwen marvelled, fantasising if she too, was destined to be like this fabled Morden.

"His apprentice was another legend, you know. I am sure you've heard of him."

Henry made the motion of opening and closing his fingers. "Bilby's Hand is a highly utilitarian spell."

Sufina manifested a mass of tendrils that became a humongous hand. The overall appearance was green and friendly until Gwen noted the barbed thorns covering its surface. The fist sailed through the air, opening, closing and grasping at nothing.

"Imagine that with Lightning or Void." Henry laughed. "Ah Gwen, what I'd give to see you mature. Though I'd daresay this combination of both Evocation and Conjuration would significantly drain your vitality."

Henry coughed violently. While Gwen practised, Sufina saw her Master through his fits via a steady stream of Golden Mead. The first few times it had happened, Gwen had rushed to her Master, but Henry had told her that it was an old wound acting up, that all he needed was rest. After all, he stated, Sufina was supplying him with raw life-force channelled from the heartland of an island paradise. There was naught for Gwen to do but wait for the episode to pass.

As their training progressed, Gwen realised she was once again the recipient of a rare privilege. Usually, students worked through theory, but she didn’t need to worry about the usual, slow-going process. Henry instead opted for brutal efficiency, putting Gwen in the Greater Cognisance Chamber to directly demonstrate how the conduit of mana and the invocation of Sigils should take place. Under her Master's peerless guidance, no secret was left unexposed in what was a complex system of calculations and conjurations.

As a result, it took Gwen only a few hours to learn Faithful Hound, and even though she couldn't cast the spell with combat efficiency or guarantee a fully functional manifest, she could invoke the dog into the material plane without issue.

"Master, this feels like cheating," Gwen announced after observing her stoic hound, a mass of flickering electricity that was all but invisible to the caster and his allies. "I am learning this too quickly. Learning a tier IV spell is meant to take months. My progress doesn't feel concrete."

"Can you afford the time?" Henry asked in turn. "One month is to learn to cast the spell, not use it in combat and under duress. You, my dear Gwen, need to master the spell. What use is Dimension Door if you cannot escape from your enemies in the split-second a Fire Blast or a Sleet Storm strikes?"

"This feels so surreal," Gwen confessed. "I can't believe I just cast a spell I've never seen before in less than five hours. Those other kids at the private academies, wouldn't they have access to this method too?"

"Well," Henry smirked proudly, twirling his moustache in delight, "I have the only Greater Cognisance Chamber in Sydney. A standard chamber is incapable of sustaining a live broadcast of phenomena. You don't think your Master is only as good as someone who can be purchased with crystals, do you?"

"Master!" said Gwen as she realised the extent to which Henry was providing for her. He was monopolising a precious resource of the Tower just to give her an edge. How could she ever repay her Master's kindness and generosity?

"Focus, Gwen. It would make me happier than you know to see you succeed in three months. If you wish to repay me, show the world that the Void element can be controlled."

"I will, Master," Gwen promised. She turned to the wall-less space of the chamber and began practising her spells again. First with Lightning, then with Void, fuelled by Sufina's generous vitality.

"Gather round!" Gunther Shultz, Paladin of Sydney, shouted over the sound of explosions ringing out in the training field. Bartlett had not only allowed them the privilege of using the arena exclusively, the principal also had set up a privacy screen. He too wanted a team that excelled in the Inter-High, for it would bring incredible boons for the public school, maybe even propelling them into the status of a Selective High School should they best the private academies.

"Magus Shultz!" Whetu left the field and ran towards his idol. Gunther Shultz! Even in New Zealand, Gunther was a Mage of legend.

"Whetu, good work."

"Sah!" Whetu saluted.

The rest of the team came down one by one. Gunther's lips twitched. "Alright! Listen up!" he told his students. "We're going to play a little game."

The girls were already exhausted, but Whetu was keen for more.

"It's called 'Beat Whetu'."

Yue sniggered.

"What?" Whetu spluttered out. "Why me?"

"The aim is to break Whetu's barrier. You get a ten-second countdown. At five, you get rice. At six, you get salads. At seven, you get mains. At eight, you get dessert."

Paladin Shultz waited for the horror to sink in. "I once played this game with Alesia. She lost five kilos by the end of our month-long training. Instructor De Botton swears by it as a crash diet."

The girls regarded one another. They turned to Whetu.

"Do we get more than one go?" Debora asked.

"Best of three."

"How do I do this?" Elvia leapt up and down, waving her hand. "I can't attack!"

"The punishment or reward is collective," Gunther pointed out. "Though Gwen, I would advise against using your Void element, if you know what's good for you."

"How come?" Gwen asked curiously, narrowing her eyes.

"Mr Tikitiki O Taranga isn't so easily defeated." Gunther grinned.

The girls turned to the pounamu Mage.

"One sec gills, lemme get ready!" Whetu took a deep breath. "Shield Wall!"

A semicircle dome of pounamu instantly formed around Whetu, creating a protective barrier of jade. "Shape Stone!"

The surface of the pounamu grew geometric, forming into little hexagonal shapes that bulged from the once smooth exterior.

A lattice fabrication! Gwen was impressed. An application of physics in the magical world. Who could have come up with such an idea? Was there someone, somewhere that practised material science through magic?

Gunther noted Gwen's dismay. "That's Magister Hildenbrandt's signature Shield," he revealed conspiratorially. "Don't think of trying to learn it from Whetu, though. His Master was inspired by watching honeybees build hives in her Tower's garden. Only her registered Apprentices can use the spell."

"Resist Elements!" Whetu finished. "Alright, come at me, bro," he shouted from behind the barrier, his voice muffled by the layer of protection. "Give me everything you got."

The girls looked at one another.

"Alright, who goes first?" Debora asked.

"Fireball!" Yue flicked a spot of flame towards the shield before Debora could finish. It struck the outer layer and erupted into a blossom of heat and death. In the next moment, the fire dissipated, revealing a scorched shield that was flaked but otherwise undamaged.

"Fuck, for real?" Yue marvelled at the shield. “Only a dent?"

There was then the sound of stones clinking into place. The shield was repairing itself.

"Fuck!" Yue shrieked, firing off another four blasts of Scorching Ray. Without the kinetic force of the Fireball, the strikes pierced only the surface layer of Whetu's pounamu barrier.

"Lightning Bolt!" Gwen gestured with her finger. A beam of lighting shot toward Whetu, skidding across the stone and grounding itself. "Well, fudge."

"My turn." Debora summoned her Spirit and clad herself in sandstone. "Enhanced Strength! Magical Weapon! Haste! Jump!"

Using a successive burst of self-buffs, Debora launched a flying kick. Upon striking the shield, she felt the satisfying crunch of the pounamu below. She kicked again, feeling another layer collapse. Then she used both hands as a hammer, hardening her fists before crushing the shield with the impressive force of a cyclopean hammer.

Splinters of the stuff went everywhere, but she still couldn't penetrate the shield.

From outside the action, the others saw the shield rapidly replenish itself by shifting stones from the parts which remained undamaged.

"Fuck!" Dobra cursed.

Haste was a skill that required incredible physical capabilities. Having now exhausted her mana, Debora puffed, her bronzed skin slick with sweat.

"Well, that's about a minute and a half. You girls want to try again?"

"Elvia, get ready, I am going to need a double dose after this," Gwen warned her battery pack.

"Okay!" Elvia took a deep breath and readied herself to channel Positive Energy into her friend.

"Whetu, I am going to use it, the thing I showed you before! Are you ready?"

"Let me live!" Whetu shouted.

"Void Bolt!" Gwen felt the vitality leaving her body as the corrosive energy surged through her conduits. A second later, a dark bolt struck Whetu's shield and bit into the hardened outer layer.

There was a sound of shifting matter… then nothing. After only three of six layers of pounamu, her bolt was spent.

Gunther laughed heartily. "We have the same problem, Gwen. Our spells possess increasingly diminishing returns on subsequent targets. Against a multi-layer barrier, our mana cost is exponential. I hope you're learning from this!"

"Cheeky Whetu!" Gwen turned to the girls. "Hit ’em with everything at once! Debora, rapid-fire Catapult! Yue, swarm tactics for your basic Explosive Bolts! Elvia, Magic Missiles!"

Whetu groaned. It took their combined power to whittle him down.

"Two seconds left." Gunther tsk-tsked with his tongue. "Guess no lunch, hmm?"

The girls glared at Whetu.

"No free passes." Gunther pointed out to Whetu. "Your very best. If you don't last five seconds, no lunch for you."

Whetu moaned despairingly. "Shield!"

The barrage continued.

In the end, the girls managed to down Whetu after five seconds. They ate their meagre meals, Whetu ate his three-course meal while the girls received their just desserts.

They stared at the plain, colourless rice balls. At least they had salt.

"Whetu," Yue said innocently to their Abjurer. "Next time, prepare to die."

Chapter twenty-six

Days of our Lives

The blurring of days took on a life of its own. During the weekday, the girls worked their craft until their brains throbbed. On the weekend, when the party went their separate ways, Gwen visited the Tower.

She was a regular now, a welcome distraction for the guards, who snatched a few minutes of polite conversation with her. As a result, her reputation among the staff was excellent, and many enjoyed the company of an uncommonly pretty young lady visiting the Tower Master.

The levitation platform stopped when it reached Henry's chamber. "See you guys next time." Gwen flashed the guards a sunny grin. She stepped into the Grot with the effortless grace of a dancer.

"Mate." A guard felt his chest constrict. "I reckon she's into me."

"…" His companion punched his mate in the arm. "Get back to work, stop day-dreaming, and work on your Firebolt."

Gwen's lesson of the day was Dimension Door. Her primary objective was mastering spatial transfer.

Her first exercise was to conjure a set of markers in a location Henry designated, marked by cute little shrubs where her body would theoretically manifest. Each "tag" consisted of a glowing crystal and her job was to translocate four markers, forming a grid around Sufina's shrub.

It had taken Gwen a few weekends to competently envelope the exact location of Sufina's designations with her Conjuration markers. Her progress, her Master had explained, was aided by the fact that Lightning spells operated on the same concept of spatial targeting.

Next was the invocation of the door itself. Unlike volatile Evocation magic, Conjuration was a delicate operation. Any miscasts or lapse in manifesting the arcane phenomena would distort, then bruise the caster's physical body coming through the immaterial. At best, she'd be bedridden for days; at worst, she could lose a limb.

The maximum range of the Dimension Door was determined by the caster's Elemental Affinity, a trait that likewise affected casting speed, cost and stability.

"Could I try a Void Dimension Door?" Gwen asked out of curiosity.

"I have no idea." Henry sounded uncomfortable with the idea. "I am not sure how that would work and I would not venture to experiment with your life on the line. Dimension Door works perfectly fine without elemental mana. Your Lightning merely lubricates the process by manifesting quickly and violently at the point of arrival."

"What do you propose, Master?"

Henry scratched his beard thoughtfully. "I knew a Salt Mage like your brother once," he replied. "His Dimension Door enabled a blast of Salt upon arrival, which acted as both defence and offence. That's what you're learning, and your Void would perhaps work in the same manner. Still, fleeing from certain doom and imminent harm, I would hardly advise spending vitality and weakening yourself on arrival, not when you have a perfectly suitable element to spare."

Gwen agreed, though she secretly wondered if she should experiment in private one day, especially with Elvia on hand to provide a layer of insurance.

As the days went by, Gwen found herself increasingly proficient in achieving the efficiency and fluency of incantations necessary for combat teleportation. All that was left was to test out the spell under live fire and discover if she could maintain the same efficacy under the shadow of death.

A few weeks later, the girls finally managed to get Whetu's shield to collapsed before the four-second mark. Though they'd made up for their failures with large breakfasts and big dinners, a light lunch was nonetheless undesirable.

Throughout the process, Gwen had tested several theories against the lattice shielding, finding that Whetu's unique skill responded exceptionally well to a wide-area barrage. Instead, the girls needed to concentrate on attacking the same area at a controlled cadence.

"Yue, your incantation Blast Bolts takes four seconds, Debbie, your Catapult takes two seconds. I can time my Lighting Bolt to fire in conjunction every three seconds. Likewise, I can get Ariel to guide the Call Storm from the cloud into the same area, which can be followed immediately by my Lightning Bolt. Elvia, I want you to open up with a Magic Missile, fire one set every five seconds."

"Right!" The girls said.

"Resist Element!" Whetu refreshed his buff, looking worried.

"Magic Missile!" From Elvia, a swarm of invisible missiles rocked the surface of the pounamu shielding, splintering its surface. A Catapult followed, smashing into the shield and entering the second layer. Straightaway, the stone began to repair itself but was interrupted when an electric bolt lit the interior like a bulb. A spray of electricity-fuelled darts from a snarling Ariel further guided Gwen's Lightning Bolt into the crack, breaking the pounamu apart.

"Aarrgh!" Whetu leapt out of the way. "Shield Break! Shield Break!"

The shield splintered, the energy contained from within shattering its outer crust and sending bits of greenstone splintering all over. The girls dived for cover, hiding behind their barriers as a wave of green fragments flew through the air.

"Three and a bit. Improving, but you need to work on a tighter formation. Consider how well your spells synergise," Gunther advised.

"Gwen's lightning has the least travel time and incredible penetration against unshielded targets. It’s an absolute God-send against monsters, but for Mages, there are many ways to ward against electricity."

"Earth and Water just happen to be two of the most common Mage Shields, and they both dissipate Lightning well. As such, Gwen, you need to focus on timing your spells. If you can get a single spell through a shield, it's all over. Either your enemies will deplete their raw mana shield or they will be paralysed."

Gunther then turned to Yue. "On the other hand, Yue, your Fire is the most balanced element, good against both Monsters and Mages. The force of the blast, the heat of the flame, the AOE, all of it performs exceptionally well against critters and humans."

"Fire Evocation's weakness, however, is travel time and trajectory. A throwaway shield can easily stop your blasts or even do something like this—Whetu, perform a back-burn Shield on Yue's next spell."

"Sure tin, boss." Whetu turned to Yue. "Do a Fire Blast. I show you buck-burn technique."

Yue threw a Blast Bolt toward Whetu. As the flame left her fingers, a small semi-circle dome of pounamu materialised. Yue's bolt caught the shield and erupted, sending out fragments of greenstone all over. Yue herself suffered the blast and fell on her buttocks, shielding her face while her hair singed.

"Shit!" Yue screamed out, her mana shield springing to life and deflecting the fragments. "My hair!"

"That," Gunther affirmed. "Is the back-burn method. Only Abjurers with an extreme affinity and large Mana Pools can cast a shield so far away from their own Astral body. As you can see, it is a hard counter for you Evokers who like to AOE the battlefield carelessly."

Elvia rushed over and dropped a Healing Word. Just as she was about to heal Yue, however, a Shield of pounamu sprung to life around her, cutting off Elvia's access to her touch spell.

"Wha?!" Elvia likewise stumbled back, shocked by the sudden appearance of the barrier.

"That is called a counter-shield," Gunther commented. "For the confident Abjurer who believes they can protect their teammates with spells to spare, ‘offensive’ shields exist for battlefield control." He turned to his youngest sister-in-craft. "Gwen, what's the counter for such a thing?"

Gwen considered the scene before her, her mind racing through a dozen scenarios. "Nail the Abjurer?"

"Good!" Gunther applauded. "Only the Abjurer's ‘individual’ shield can be extended in this way, which means if they send their barrier away, they are without protection. Of course, there is only one element here fast enough to catch them before they can retract the shield—Lightning." Gunther observed their faces. "Which is why many specialist Abjurers at the Magus level choose to further specialise in Conjuration or Illusion, giving them many more options for defence."

Gwen felt understanding dawn upon her like a god ray piercing through the clouds. So that's why Richard was so keen on becoming a Conjurer-Abjurer.

As Ol'Dicky partnered with the alluring Lea, the possibilities he could create with Abjuration's suite of defensive skills was numberless. For instance, Undines were virtually immune to physical damage. What if Richard empowered her to use his spells so that he used his shield offensively, while Lea protected him? Such utility! An unstoppable, self-regenerating, sapient Spirit of Water that could disrupt incantations and dispel magical buffs, attack physically as well as discharge water bolts.

Gwen smacked her lips. If Richard can do that, what of herself? She could shelter herself in a double-layered shield, while externally, Caliban, Ariel, the Faithful Hound, as well as a set of Dark Tentacles, took care of business. Perhaps she should invest in Summon Elementals as well, and once her beasties were out and about, she could also use Lightning Bolt.

Her mana would be drained in under a minute, but she could engender an orgasmic orgy of destruction and mayhem!

Gunther watched as Gwen chuckled to herself. "Gwen?" He appeared worried when Gwen grinned idiotically. "Do you need to rest?"

"I am fine." She shook herself from her fantasies. "You were saying?"

Gunther shook his head. "Looks like you're all tired. We'll try again tomorrow. Now, go and get lunch."

To break the monotony of training, Gwen took the opportunity to pass on some of her insights. "So, you compress the two sides of the Shielding, then fill the gap with motes of loose mana, like so," she explained the non-Newtonian shield technique to Yue and Elvia, but her friend could not comprehend the physics aspect. She was just considering if she should go down to the dorm kitchen and ask for potato starch and a container when Elvia slumped on her shoulder.

Gwen stared. Evee's petite, pink lips twitched as she mumbled softly; an adorable rosebud against her ivory skin, as fragile as porcelain.

"Aww, Evee got so bored of your theory-craft she fell asleep." Yue giggled, ebullient and mischievous.

Gwen slowly cupped her arms around the petite girl, whose form was limp like a ragdoll's. "So cute!" She brushed a finger across Elvia's cheek, parting the tiny slivers of invisible, silver-blonde hair. "She smells nice, too."

Yue snuggled against Gwen’s torso, making herself comfortable.

"Let's sleep like this," Yue suggested mischievously. "I heard that if you hug a positive element Mage at night, it revitalises your skin."

"Really?" Gwen cooed.

"Only one way to find out.' Yue grinned.

The two girls sandwiched their healer in the middle and laid down to sleep on the cramped bed.

"Goodnight." Yue yawned, then was gone from the world.

"Yue?" Gwen demanded of the empty air. “Wow.”

Gwen allowed her breathing to slow, welcoming a restful night of sleep.

With the extension of summer came the mornings, bright and early.

Gwen left Yue and Elvia to their beauty sleep and jogged out for a brisk morning run. Guiltily, Gwen had wondered if she should have called Debora, but ultimately chose her privacy over having company.

When she had returned from the uphill slope, she became surrounded by gawking students, as though a Gwen-shaped displacer beast had been found in the inner city.

Students, hundreds of them, gawked at her sweat-stained sportswear.

The school term.

THE BLOODY SCHOOL TERM STARTS TODAY!

Having risen so early to jog up Ascension Hill—a steep incline high enough to make a runner wish for death—she had run smack bang into the returning students.

"Oh. My. God. It's Gwen Song!" someone called out.

Gwen burned.

"Goodness, she is tall."

"She's the Lightning Mage, right?"

"I heard she's training for the Inter-High!"

"Our shitty school is eligible?"

"Someone said she's dating Debora?"

"I heard it was Yue."

"She's two-timing."

“That bitch…”

It was time to go.

"Expeditious Retreat," Gwen muttered under her breath, then tore through the crowd as a blur, leaving behind naught but a few wayward sparks.

The crowd stared.

"Wasn't that a Transmutation spell?" Someone asked. "Isn't she an Evoker?"

Despite the false start, training continued, heedless of the academic term.

"Here it comes!" Alesia incanted, her spell forming faster than Gwen could see. "Fireball!"

"Dimension Door!" Gwen teleported behind Alesia just as the blossom of fire erupted on the field.

"Wall of Fire!" Alesia followed through, flowing from one spell to another without seemingly any effort or delay.

"Dimension Door!" Gwen gritted her teeth and teleported again. Consecutively casting the spell was a significant drain on her mind. "Spell Fatigue", it was called, overtaxing one's brain caused dizziness and, at worst, mana burn.

"Flaming Hands!" Alesia spun without looking, letting loose a bout of flame a dozen metres in length, about three times the average range of a Flaming Hand spell.

"Shield!" Gwen couldn't manage another Dimension Door immediately, so she switched to a defensive barrier. Against Alesia, it instantly dissolved. "Dimension Door!" Her mental cooldown was over.

Gwen reappeared some twenty metres away, then hurled her breakfast.

"Looks like three's ya limit, tiger." Alesia rested a hand on her hip. "Wish I was a Conjurer. Such convenience."

"You have your Djinn form and you can fly," Gwen pointed out.

"Give it a few years, and you'll be able to fly and teleport," Alesia returned. "You better remember how hard I trained you when that day comes. Tell the press and the world that without Alesia de Botton, there would be no Gwen Song, Magister of all Magic."

Gwen laughed, feeling her mental stress diffuse. "Alright, I think I am good. Shall we go again?"

"Whoa?" Alesia raised a flawless brow. "Already? It's been what, a minute? You sure?"

"Yeah, I am sure." Gwen felt no particular fatigue from the consecutive incantations. "Master did a good job teaching me."

"Hmm…" Alesia thought about it, but she didn't relish the mental strain of thinking too deeply about something that was probably beyond her ken. "If you're confident, then try to dodge this—Flame Strike!"

"Dimension Door!"

Three months seemed like a long time on the calendar, but time had a way of fleeing from one's notice. More than once, Gwen would awake with confidence that it was Monday, only to find that it was Thursday.

Then, as sudden as it was unexpected, the training was done. The preliminaries for the Inter-High were upon them.

Yet, there was no news of an invitation. Gwen's team had heard nothing about their enrollment in the Inter-High.

When questioned by her other team members, Gwen instantly suspected Alesia.

"Alesia, I need to ask you something," Gwen Messaged her, her voice full of wary suspicion. "Have you submitted our application to the Inter-High competition board?"

"The what?" Alesia replied, her voice full of puzzlement. "What application? When I participated, I just showed up!"

Suddenly, Gwen’s blood ran cold.

Chapter twenty-seven

A Crooked Deal

“Alesia, we don't have a participation slot, we're qualifying for one," Gwen explained carefully. "The big man even told us so. You are our instructor, and we can't apply without your written consent and appeal."

"I thought Gunther was taking care of that?" Alesia asked innocently. "He usually does."

"Alright, wait up, I'll call Gunther."

Gwen closed her Message Spell and inputted the Glyph for Gunther, citing an emergency. "Gwen, you shouldn't be calling me inside work hours."

"Alesia forgot to apply for the special provision entry."

"Impossible. I made sure she did, I had her sign the form. All she had to do was send it out to the committee."

"She said we just had to show up."

There was silence on the other side of the Message spell, followed by a deep sigh like someone was pondering the meaning of life and had found it wanting. "I'll call Alesia. Hold on."

Gwen waited, twiddling her thumbs and dangling her long legs back and forth to offset her anxiety.

Ding!

"Gwen, are you there?"

"Gunther! So what's the deal?"

"Alesia, you tell her."

Alesia cut into the conversation. "Sorry Gwen," her sister-in-craft sounded like a puppy who's just been told off for shitting on the lawn. "I'll make it up to you guys! I'll fix it! I know a way for you guys to get an invitation."

"It's alright, Alesia." Gwen tried to sound untroubled, but she was just as annoyed as Gunther. Alesia was a grown woman, for God's sake. She was almost thirty! If she weren't an engine of destruction, she would probably be taken advantage of a lot.

"So, there's an old rule we can exploit," Alesia continued with a more hopeful tone. "I am pretty sure that's how I got in last time. What you need to do is challenge a school that had a team in the top eight last year, and if you can defeat them in the one-versus-one, three-versus-three and five-versus-five—best out of three. You can take their seeded position in the tournament."

"Gunther?" Gwen asked. It seemed a rather dubious scenario.

"It's an old custom, and Alesia is the only one who has exploited it in the last two decades. It was implemented as a boast by the Greater Public Schools. They wanted to show the commoners that they were superior to any government-funded school."

"What's the likelihood that someone would accept this challenge? Can they decline?" Gwen inquired.

"They can, and therein lies in the problem," Gunther replied. "You have to make them an offer they can't refuse."

"Crystals? Spells? Favours?" Gwen asked, thinking of the scale on the back of her neck. "Rare Magical items?"

"Perhaps, but unlikely. These schools have deep pockets. I am talking something more concrete."

"Like?" Gwen asked quizzically, premonition tinging her spine. She was getting very good at detecting trouble when it came to herself.

"Like a sixteen-year-old girl who can tap into three schools of magic," Alesia interjected. "We need to offer you up, Gwen. If we lose, you join that school and become their show pony."

"I'll have to leave Blackwattle?" Gwen apprehensively measured the scenario. "No way."

"At worst." Gunther's voice was emotionless and rational. "At worst, you might be compelled to be apprenticed to a Magus of the School. Of course, our Master won't let that happen, but it'll be a messy settlement. After all, who would willingly let you go?"

"She just has to win, easy peasy," Alesia said with a nonchalance that rivalled an invitation to coffee.

"Just?" Gwen's tone was such that even half a city away, Gunther could imagine her rolling her eyes.

"Pick a school Gwen can crush, Gunther."

"Hmm…" Gunther hummed. "Well, our Master's Rival, Magister Ferris, is the sponsor for Rosebay. If you're going to make an enemy out of a whole school of well-connected Mages, you may as well dig deeper into a hole that we've dug already."

"Wouldn't that piss off this Magister Ferris?" Gwen sounded suspicious and sceptical.

"Oh yes, gloriously." Alesia could be heard clapping. "That woman's a real prickly pear."

"Gunther, translation please," Gwen implored her brother-in-craft.

"Ferris is from the grey faction, the ones who believe that we should be mingling with the Magical Races, trading with them, learning from them. She's one of the Ten who supports 'organ' trading for Magical components, like Cores, Spirits, unicorn horn, you know the type."

"Since Alesia’s disgraced Magister Walken in the past, our Factions have always shared an antagonistic relationship."

"Antagonism?"

"Yes. The Greys believe, wrongly of course, that the future lies in the Wildlands, that we should abandon the whole idea of human enclaves and join the sapient humanoids who live in the Zones."

"Wow." Gwen puzzled her head. Was co-existence so bad?

"Almost a crazy idea, I mean, sure, most of the Mages survive. Then what? We leave billions of NoMs, each potentially the progenitor of one more magical bloodline, to die? To be eaten by the Monsters? Hell, where would you be, Gwen? You'd be dead or sold off before you’d even Awakened."

Gwen recalled that her Master had indeed spoken sometimes in the past of his frustration with the so-called Grey Faction, whose operations included the Grey Markets. After her incident, Gwen recalled hearing from Gunther that Blackheath was likely a supply point for the Greys.

"Right, so we go to Rosebay, and?"

"Alesia will set it up," Gunther replied confidently. "If she's good for one thing, it's stirring up a hornet's nest."

"Hey!" Alesia uttered sulkily.

"Don't screw this up, Allie," Gunther warned her. "If you do, Master will have to use the Tower's influence to sponsor Gwen's team directly. That would be a significant detour from our intended goal."

"Alright, alright. Sheesh." Alesia closed her Message spell.

"Keep an eye on her, Gwen. I trust you more than Alesia." Gunther likewise terminated his Message spell.

Gwen bit her lips. Offer her up as a prize for a bet? She supposed it wasn't any worse than their original scenario. After all, she couldn't afford to lose a single battle.

While waiting on Alesia's negotiation abilities, Gwen meditated for the rest of the afternoon.

The more she knew about this world, the more she resented its dystopian roots. As a sterling example, her courses entirely omitted information about tier-one cities. Instead, "capitals" were noted offhandedly as unattainable paradises. Additionally, Richard had mentioned something called Contribution Credits, a merit system that operated as magical currency in the tier-one cities, but her textbooks appeared wholly uninterested in such a thing. It was only while in consultation with her Master that she’d learnt that a whole system of merit existed with the Commonwealth's Towers.

Alesia's call came through two hours later. "I'll pick you up in the Firebird. We're going to Rosebay to see the headmistress. Dress up."

Alesia abruptly hung up, as rash and fiery as ever. Was it the influence of her Fire affinity? The bestiary had stated that the flame Djinn was indeed proud, arrogant and easily driven by impulse.

Gwen didn't like the detour, but she preferred the issue was resolved between themselves than asking her Master to throw his influence around.

She dug through her outfits for something that would go well with her Mary-Janes. She checked her mother's stockpile. She felt a little guilty for still using them, but waste not, want not; she couldn't afford to splurge on luxury goods right now.

To her surprise, she found something that was serendipitously appropriate. Soon, she re-emerged in a pleated-cady minidress and a long-sleeved white blouse, with a ribbon to tie together the formality.

Gwen examined herself in the wardrobe mirror. White blouse, black mini, dark, polished shoes; she looked the very picture of a blue-blooded young lady.

She ventured below, delighting fellow students with a vision of class and grace. They came to greet her, some bravely asking her questions about the Lightning element while others gawked.

VROOOM!

A sudden thrum in the air signalled the arrival of Alesia's Firebird, so red it hurt her eyes. Vaucluse was twenty minutes away.

"We're going to have a meet and greet with Mildred Stone, the Headmistress of Rosebay." Alesia stepped on the gas and weaved through the traffic. "I am sorry about this, Gwen. I was careless."

"I am sure it'll work out in the end," Gwen comforted her friend and sister-in-craft. "As you said, I just have to win, right? That was the plan from the very beginning anyway."

"True." Alesia blasted past a truck. The lorry driver honked.

Past the bridge, the girls turned into the coastal road and watched the scintillating blue sea beyond the headland. It stretched magnificently, kissing a shimmering glow on the horizon that was the Shield Barriers.

"Beautiful, hey?" Alesia asked. "Murderous Mermen aside, of course."

"Yeah," Gwen replied, her eyes buffeted by the wind. The breeze, the salty scent, the brine—she was reminded of her old life, of lazy Sundays by the sea.

"Rosebay isn't the best in terms of the qualities of its Spellcraft, but it has a long and established history of being an incubator for elites. Magister Irene Ferris herself was a graduate of the school and once served as its dean. She still sits on the school's board, despite occupying one of the ten seats on the Tower Council."

"I see."

"When we see the mistress, you'll need to demonstrate Conjuration, Evocation and Transmutation. We're keeping Void under wraps. Let's not get them too excited."

Gwen nodded. She knew.

The ocean view persisted until they reached Rosebay.

Rosebay Private Girls’ Catholic School perched atop a cliffside moulded by Transmuters into a three-tier escarpment overlooking a two-seventy-degree view of the ocean. The primary structure of the school itself was a cathedral with twin spires that rose into the dying sky like lances. On top, twin pinions fluttered through the wind, decorated with a scarlet rose on an ultramarine backdrop.

Alesia's Firebird coupe turned into the entrance and slowed. The powerful engine Cores thrummed as they drifted towards the interior.

"Your business?" A greying security guard inquired respectfully.

"De Botton, here for Headmistress Stone."

"Of course, one second." The guard fired off a Message spell. They watched him receiving his orders, nodding and bowing toward thin air. "I'll let you through now. There'll be someone waiting for you at the church."

Alesia swung the car toward the cathedral. It was even more impressive close-up, towering above the duo with its soaring gothic visage, its architraves shaped with arcane patterns of warding.

A nun awaited them at the side entrance, a skinny, older woman with a face like a skull, covered from head to toe in a penguin habit. She looked at Alesia's flaming red dress distastefully, lingering on her cleavage with a twist of her lips. Toward Gwen, her attitude was kinder. Though Gwen's dress was short, it was couture and matt black.

"I am Sister Teresa. You may come with me. The Headmistress awaits you in her study." She immediately turned and began to move, expecting the two to follow without question.

The trio climbed the revolving stairs, with Gwen noting that the cathedral had been rebuilt into four levels, split into a stratum of classrooms, prayer rooms, staff rooms and offices.

From the fourth floor, they looked out through enchanted windows that appeared as stained motifs of the Christian saints from the outside, but served as unobstructed windows from within, giving them a breathtaking ocean and the barrier beyond.

"In here." The Mother Superior knocked twice and opened the door for them.

Alesia entered without a word.

Within, they met the unfriendly eye of a thin, gaunt-faced woman with silver-grey irises. "Magus de Botton, always a pleasure."

"Magus Stone, likewise a pleasure."

The two of them exchanged praises and pleasantries.

"So, this is the prize student that you speak of, the promised protégé. Gwen Song, is it?" Stone motioned a hand toward Gwen casually. "Stand up, honey, let us take a look at you."

Gwen stood and walked towards the heavy mahogany table.

Magus Stone put on a pair of spectacles. Gwen noted that they were faintly glowing with motes of Divination magic. "Take a turn. Let's see what you're made of."

She felt like she was a prized bullock put up for sale being inspected for quality and pedigree. She spun slowly, gracefully, keeping her hands by her sides to tuck in her hem.

"My, you certainly are a lovely young thing." Magus Stone tapped her fountain pen against some parchments on the table. "Please manifest if you are able."

Gwen began with Evocation, opening the Sigil and producing an orb of lightning.

"Tier IV Lightning! Impressive," Stone commented.

Gwen then conjured a Warding Bolt orb, which hovered as a glowing orb that orbited around Gwen before eventually dissipating.

"There's Conjuration, beautiful." The woman's voice ran dry.

Gwen extended a hand and produced the whip of Lightning. She cracked it against the air, sending out a shower of sparks.

"And Transmutation," Stone uttered, her voice full of wonder and awe. "I must apologise, Alesia, when you'd told me, I'd assumed you were up to your old tricks."

Gwen curtsied.

"So, what's the catch?" Stone asked Alesia suddenly. "She's one in a million. I've never even heard of this level of talent. Why offer her to us for something as trivial as the Inter-High? It isn't the International University challenge, you know. It's just a regional competition for the kids."

"There is no catch. We want your seeded invitation to the Inter-high." Alesia shrugged innocently, her big blue eyes glinting with earnestness. "That's all. Alternatively, you can give it to us, and Gwen shall remember you kindly a few decades down the track."

"Or give me the girl, and I'll sign it over right now," Stone offered.

"No can do." Alesia smirked. "That would be beside the point. We've got a team and a school already anyway."

"What if I said no, we're not having a contest?"

"Nothing. There's absolutely nothing I can do. Except maybe ask Lilith's or Lakeview or any other girls' academies or co-ed schools with a seeded position. Hell, why not ask a selective school? There's three in the top eight, after all. One was even champion one year."

"That was your year, no?" Stone breathed out harshly from her nostrils, her voice full of disdain. "I'd hardly call that a fair contest. A battle veteran from the Coral Sea Campaign against school children? I still have no idea why you qualified."

"Hee hee." Alesia chuckled.

Magus Stone measured Alesia, trying to read her face. "Is Gwen connected to your employer, Magister Kilroy?"

"Gwen, you tell her." Alesia gave Gwen a nudge in the gut.

"Yes, the Magister has been kind to me," Gwen spoke the half-truth.

"Hm." Stone paused. "Master Kilroy is alright if Master Ferris wanted to Apprentice Gwen?"

"No," Alesia spoke truly. "He would be beyond livid."

Stone smiled. "Alright, we agree to your terms." She signed the agreement in front of her, then turned it over, and slid the page across the table.

Alesia signed, then finally Gwen also signed. Their signatures glowed golden for a split second. "That's submitted to the Tower now, no cooling off period." Stone cunningly smirked. "I hope you don't mind that I was a little hasty in affirming our contractual obligations."

"Not at all." Alesia stood from her chair, her grin split from ear to ear. "I heard that Rosebay has one of the best medical facilities in the area, is that true?"

"Indeed," Stone affirmed.

"Good." Alesia motioned for Gwen to follow. She stopped at the door, her own blue eyes coldly meeting Stone's steel-grey orbs. "I'd make sure your best Clerics are on hand in two days. Gwen?"

"Yes, Alesia?"

"We're going."

Chapter twenty-eight

Dark Waters

Wap! Wap! Wap!

A kookaburra slammed a lizard into the gum-bark, snapping its spine and tenderising its flesh before swallowing.

A breeze followed, casting dappled shadows that swayed rhythmically to the thrill of cicadas. The occasional bird of paradise hopped from wattle to wattle, stripping the brushes of their sweet nectar between the walled sanctuary of the native garden.

Abruptly, the sound of wheels crunching loose gravel silenced the serenity. A young man in a wheelchair, pushed by an uncommonly pretty maid and accompanied by another, strolled through the garden.

“Kooo-kuku-ku-ku-kua-aaaah!"

Edgar shot the bird a look of annoyance. A tendril of near-invisible dust lashed out, snaring the panicked kookaburra. Its feathers instantly moulted and fell, leaving behind a skeletal frame that fell hopping, obscene and naked, to the ground.

The earth-bound Mage chuckled.

The pretty maid who pushed the wheelchair sighed, then placed a hand upon the young man's shoulder. A surge of Positive Energy flowed between them.

"You should control yourself, young Master."

"Why?" Edgar coughed to clear this throat. "That's why you're here, ain'tcha?"

"Indeed, but as a favour to the Mistress, and only to the Mistress."

"Bah!" the Mage scoffed. "You're such a prude. Take me in; it's almost time for our conference."

A few turns throughout the native garden and the landscape changed to that of blue lawns overshadowed by a colonial manor that soared, white and dazzling, against a vista of Sydney's tablelands.

"Sir." A guard, grey-haired and severe in his black suit even in the Australian summer, bowed his head smartly as the wheelchair approached. His eyes lingered upon the young Master, feeling such resentment at the young man's suffering that his moustache shook.

Almost nine months ago, Edgar had teleported into the manor, mortally wounded, missing both his right limbs and a portion of his face. Even the best healers the Master called up had been unable to restore the lost flesh or coax the stump to regrow its appendage. It was as though the Essence powering Edgar’s limbs had ceased to exist… or that they had never existed in the first place.

Over time, Edgar had become a recluse; no longer was he the sunny, wonderful boy that the old guard had raised—a young man who joked and laughed and hunted when the mood caught him.

Now he seemed a husk of the man he used to be. The servants had all begged Edgar for knowledge of what had occurred, but all their attempts were rebuffed, adding to their frustration.

"Going to the chamber, sir?"

"Yes, Burham, get me fitted before we go in. I need to appear at my very best before the Mistress."

"Sir.' Burham reached in gently and picked up the young man from the wheelchair as though he were a babe, cradling the young Master in his arms. In a moment, his eyes moistened.

To think that his young Master, a Dust Mage— the scion of a peerless lineage—was now reduced to this. Who could have done such a thing? Who could dare? He wanted more than anything to find out, to give his young Master satisfaction.

"No need to be so sentimental, Burham," said Edgar.

"Of course not, young Master." Burham straightened his back and took the young man toward the armoury. There was a long oaken table there, atop which was a prosthetic arm and leg, both right-handed and footed.

Burham placed the young man upon the table and buckled on the arm and leg, wrapping the soft leather straps around his waist and shoulders. He then pulled open a hidden drawer set within the table, retrieving mana stones the size of duck eggs, each worth at minimum four thousand HDM crystals. The Cores clinked into place and the limbs whirled into life.

His young Master sat on the table and moved his new Dwarf-forged mithril-limbs. They possessed no sensation, of course—they were not his own—but at least he would regain mobility. Slowly, Edgar felt the mana from the stones mingle with that of his own body, the limbs becoming more responsive as the lag between command and movement synchronised.

"Dress me," Edgar commanded. Burham materialised a Mage's robe stitched in the archaic style and pulled it carefully over the young Master. A belt and a few adjustments later, the young man was once again a handsome representative of the arcane brotherhood in its glorious yesteryears. How like his great-grandfather he seemed, like the very painting come to life.

"Let's go."

The duo exited the chamber and were joined by the two maids, making for the basement level. Upon reaching the heavily warded bronze door, they paused.

His young Master placed his hand upon the surface and incanted some indistinct commands, simultaneously drawing secret Glyphs upon its surface. The door yawned open ponderously, revealing the soft glow of arcane lights within.

The group moved forward, but one of the maids stopped at the entrance. It was the youngest one, the one who'd stayed silent the whole while. "Young Master," she begged, her voice choking. "Please, I can't. I am not allowed."

"Nonsense!" Edgar said kindly. "You're as much a part of this as any of us."

"Please," the girl begged, her eyes wild with panic. "I don't want to. I just… P-please, let me serve you in other ways."

The older maid, the one who had spoken earlier with such disdain for the young Master, impatiently pushed her into the room. The doors boomed close behind them.

The young maid shivered and could say nothing. She followed silently.

"Thank you, Nephres."

"The Mistress is a busy woman," Nephres replied with a voice short on patience.

Nephres ventured into the room and activated the Conjuration portal. The silver Conjuration Glyphs of the chamber glowed with a fierce light. A dark hole formed within the centre of the magical formation, spewing out a thrashing volume of strange, eel-like vermin. Half serpentine, half insect, wholly faceless and utterly alien, the strange creatures piled upon one another until they formed into the shapely form of a cowled, female Mage.

From underneath the low hanging cowl, all they could see were a pair of shallow red lips on pale white skin, so pale it gave the impression of fresh snow painted with a dash of sanguine blood. There was a sensuality about it all that made the audience hold their breath.

An aura unique to Void flooded the chambers.

Burham felt his old blood pumping, and Edgar felt his young body engorge and broil with strange desires. Nephres moaned.

"I commend you on the recovery of the Shielding Core, Edgar." Her voice was distant and echoing, giving the impression that she was speaking from somewhere otherworldly.

"As you wish, Mistress, I live to serve."

"How fare you with my gifts? Have the artificers performed their duty to satisfaction?"

"They have, my Lady, I feel as good as a new man with his limbs wholly intact."

The female figure seemed satisfied with that response.

"You have grown, Edgar. I was looking forward to chiding you for exacting zealous revenge and endangering our designs, but it appears you have unexpectedly heeded my advice."

She turned to the older, more comely maid. "Nephres, how is his condition?"

"Adequate, my Lady. His affinity has improved, in fact," Nephres admitted sulkily. The Mistress was showing too much deference to the boy.

"I am pleased with both of you, then."

Both Nephres and Edgar felt overwhelmed with motherly affection. "We live to serve." They both bowed.

"How is our other wayward child, the one without a face of his own?"

Edgar tensed. He could feel cold sweat beginning to drench his back. The Lady had asked for information on Faceless as well three months ago, but Edgar had achieved nothing of note. It was as though his partner had evaporated into thin air.

"I fear we have no news," Edgar confessed, awaiting the inevitable admonishment.

"No matter, he is alive," the Lady answered nonchalantly. "Children will return to the fold, in time. They always do."

"Nephres," the Lady was unexpectedly kind. "How proceeds our negotiation with the Mermen?"

"As if they had a choice in the first place, your Grace," Nephres smirked arrogantly, chuckling to herself. "Did you know they use your Grace's name to silence their misbehaving children? One mention of your exploits and even the rowdiest school of fingerlings hide in their coral caves."

"True enough, but I want assurances," The woman in black intoned. "No more unforeseen circumstances like last time. Right, Edgar?"

Edgar fell to his knees and knocked his forehead against the pavement. He performed the kowtowing supplication three times until he was dizzy and bleeding.

"Nephres, heal him."

Nephres grumbled and shot Edgar a beam of green, nourishing energy.

"There will be no failure." The Lady commanded. "Until next time."

Edgar watched the Sigils fade, feeling his wounds heal. He felt so pent up, so unfulfilled, so filled to the brim with emotions that tore at his rational mind and stroked something dark and malignant within.

"You, come here," he commanded the younger maid, who shook her head, her small face white with fear and dripping terror.

"Please, young Master Edgar. Please. I just wanted to work here. I am not from anywhere great. I'll be useful to you. I'll do anything, just spare me, please…"

Despite the presence of Burham and Nephres, the girl tore at her maid's uniform, revealing her still developing breasts, two gentle swells that glowed palely in the dim light of the spent Conjuration ritual.

Burham looked away. To think his prideful young Master was reduced to this.

Nephres' eyes glowered with sick pleasure.

"Come here. Now."

"Please, no…"

The maid dropped to her knees and supplicated, as Edgar had done, smashing her head against the pavement. The skin on her forehead split, splattering blood all over and ruining her good looks. It was a gamble, she knew, maybe the young Master would lose his interest if she was ugly, no longer the beautiful girl hand-picked by Mr Burham. If she was foul, what would be the sport?

"You think I am interested in your body?" Edgar almost choked on a fit of passion. Instead, he began a riotous explosion of laughter. Edgar fought the tightness in his pants, constrained by the prosthetic limb's leather bands and understood the misunderstanding. It was pretty funny, he had to admit. "Nothing of the sort, little bird."

"Dusty!" he commanded. A whirling Dust elemental materialised, its comical name betrayed by the horrific vision of a malignant dark shape looming over the girl.

"No! Anything! I'll do anything!"

Her cry went unheeded. Dusty was upon her in an instant. The bleating maid's flesh instantly rendered, and her blood flowed freely. The pressure of Dusty's powerful grasp wrung her body, her fluids drained and mingled with the swirling Devil until it became a whirl of crimson.

Edgar felt his Mana Pool grow just ever so slightly.

"That was an excellent choice, Burham," he commended his manservant. "Where did you dig her out?"

"Near the Hills District."

"I would like a few more of the same quality. If you are able, I feel stronger already."

"Of course.' Burham bowed. The Master would not approve, but if the lives of these worthless NoMs-turned Mages meant that the young Master could regain his health, then so be it.

Edgar, meanwhile, continued to drain the poor maid until all her Essences ceased to be, leaving behind a corpse of dusty death where a lively young woman had once existed. His mind, however, could barely register the final, whimpering moments of the victim whose life force nourished him. At that moment, his consciousness was elsewhere, dreaming of another time, another place.

He dreamt of a pair of lithe, long legs trembling in the firelight, eyes speckled with emerald-on-amber, dilated with fear and trembling with unspeakable loathing.

Edgar was again tasting the girl's mind, her astral soul, split in twain, light and dark, separate and yet whole, like the yolk and the egg white.

He had been so close. Edgar recalled it as if it were happening still, himself towering over the staggering girl, her mind caught in his dark web, strands upon strands of Enchantment woven into illusions, overpowering her mind. Her nape caught in his rough-hewn palm, his hands had caressed the shy, white skin of her shoulders, brushing away the dust and sweat to reveal the pallid flesh below. She had pushed him away, but how could her terrified, vague fingers resist? He had touched her, entered her in a way that no one else ever would. He could feel her resistance failing, the unclenching of her loosening thighs—his ultimate victory.

Edgar felt a sudden shudder engender in his loins.

Nephres, who'd been watching the whole ordeal distastefully, snorted. Even Burham was embarrassed by Edgar's unexpected passion. The guard instantly materialised a new robe.

"Would the young Master perhaps consider drawing a bath?" he noted without altering his tone, suppressing a dash of dire redness flashing across his old face.

"Please." Edgar smoothed out his robe, his face likewise glowering with renewed vitality. "Do clean up here as well."

Wait for me.

Edgar promised himself with untold vehemence, inexpertly fighting his impulses with trembling limbs that jangled.

I am coming.

Chapter twenty-nine

Anticipation

“So that’s how it is.” Gwen finished explaining the situation to her party members at the cafeteria while Alesia sheepishly nursed a cup of hot Milo.

“So,” Yue rapped her fingers on the table. “You telling me that we get to skip all the boring stuff? That sounds alright to me.”

“I am afraid it’s sink or swim, all the way," Gwen reminded everyone, just in case they had yet to understand the scope of their new deal.

“I don’t see a problem with that.” Yue grinned confidently. “Boom, straight to the top eight! You're here to make a big splash, right? What could be bigger than that?”

“Reckless, but I agree.” Debora nodded beside Yue. “I want to show off my abilities, a real showcase, and that can only be achieved by challenging the best.”

“It’s all choice to me, bro.” Whetu made his opinions known. “Nuffin's getting by my pounamu in a hurry.”

“I’ll do my best!” Elvia uttered cutely, joining the circle of affirmation.

“Alright!” Gwen extended her hand and placed it on the table. "We're cool then?"

"Cool."

"Good."

"Yep."

"Let's do it!"

Gwen took a deep breath; she had been waiting for this moment. “All for one!”

“Together!”

“As one!”

“For us!”

“Team Blackwattle!”

The group cheered.

Gwen felt profoundly sad that this world had no Alexander Dumas. So many missed opportunities! She’d have to tell the story to the girls someday, convert the musketeers into the Three Magus or something.

“So, when do we bring the pain?” Yue inquired.

“Thursday noon, the Rosebay Private Girls’ Academy,” Gwen affirmed. “Public exhibition match for the seeded position in the top eight. There’s going to be a public audience.”

“At the very least, Magister Kilroy and Ferris will be there,” Alesia butted in. “Two of the highest officials in Australia. There is no better audience than this!"

“Oh.” Elvia's small face turned the colour of her bedsheets. “Master Kilroy is the leader of the Tower! Master Ferris is very famous as well for her Divination and Illusion!”

Debora’s eyes glowed with anticipation.

“So, how are we doing the matches?” Yue asked. “I know we’re doing a five-versus-five, but who's doing the one-versus-one and the three-versus-three?”

“Gwen will be fronting the one-versus-one,” Alesia stated. “That was a part of the agreement.”

“Wouldn’t they just buff their Mages with Lightning Resistance?” Debora noted. “That’s what I would do.”

“Not with Master Kilroy there. No pre-match buffs. No way to gain an unfair advantage.”

“What if she has to fight an Abjurer who's specialised in Earth? That's a terrible matchup for Gwen. What if they're an Illusionist and Gwen makes a mistake or misfires a spell?”

Alesia shot Debora an exhaustive look. “That's for Gwen to overcome. Out there in the real world, you don't get favourable match-ups. Your enemies will try to counter you at every turn. How we play the hand we're dealt with is the mainstay of what differentiates a skilled Mage from a bad one. Not to mention that out of all the people here, Gwen has the least problem with flexibility. If Gwen couldn’t even overcome that, she’d have no place fighting for top dog at the apex of the Inter-High pyramid."

Debora nodded obediently. "How about the three-versus-three?” she proposed instead.

Alesia grinned ominously. “We only need to win best of three, so I was thinking of having yourself, Yue and Whetu standing in for the three-man. After all, I dare say the chance of Gwen having to blow her 'ability' is pretty high if Rosebay takes this seriously.”

The Debora and Yue regarded one another with surprise.

“I am game.” Debora declared instantly. “As long as Yue's capable of controlling friendly fire.”

“I am in,” Yue replied. “So long as she’s capable of not walking into my Fireballs.”'

“Ah, youth.” Alesia shook her head. “You girls will be spending tomorrow with me on the training field. You better not embarrass Gwen out there; she’s counting on you!”

“Yes, Master!” Yue saluted.

“Ma’am!” Debora inclined her head.

"If there's nothing else, go and get some rest." Alesia brushed her hair back luxuriously. "Dismissed! We'll gather here first thing Thursday morning. I'll have transportation sorted out by then."

The rest of the crew affirmed the order and went their separate ways. Gwen and the girls returned to their dorm room.

"How do you feel about all this, Gwen?" Yue inquired, landing on her bed.

"The readiness is all," Gwen replied confidently, it was a saying she was taking to heart these days. Her confidence wasn't unfounded either, for she had theory-crafted many scenarios and outcomes with Alesia.

"So, what happens now?" Elvia asked carefully. “Does this mean we win, and then we compete in the real deal?”

“Yep, pretty much. First stop, Rosebay, next stop, Stadium Australis.”

“Yikes, I thought as much!” Elvia hugged her pillow and rolled around her bed, messing up her sheets. “All those eyes watching! I’ve never shown my spells in front of so many people, you guys! What if I miss a healing spell? What if I embarrass everyone?”

“Oh, Evee,” Yue hastened over to the adjacent bed and pushed Elvia toward her bosoms. “If anything, it's that exhibitionist Debbie who’s going to embarrass us.”

“Has Debs got her element-imbued clothing yet?” Gwen asked. Transmutation was terrible for mundane clothing.

“Master said she’ll source it by Thursday,” Yue replied confidently. “Our uniforms are imbued, as well as resistant to dirt, heat and cold.”

“Nice,” Gwen wondered what they’d look like, imagining the green and gold uniforms that classic Australian Olympians used for international competitions. Something in that style would be fantastic.

“Well, good night,” Yue said. She wiggled under her summer blankets, closed her eyes, and was instantly asleep.

“That amazes me every time,” Gwen marvelled. She tried to sleep, but the scenarios of the competition kept playing over and over in her head.

“Gwen,” Elvia whispered in the darkness.

“Yeah?”

“I can’t sleep at all,” Elvia paused nervously. “Do you think…”

Gwen opened her blankets. “Come on over, plenty of room for a little Evee.”

She felt Elvia’s soft, boneless body slid under her thin sheets. The petite blonde girl was wearing pyjamas. With Elvia's entry, her sheets instantly filled with the scent of life.

“You smell so nice.” Gwen breathed in deeply.

Elvia giggled, but her mirthful immaturity quickly metamorphosed into uncertainty. “I didn’t want to say in front of the others, Gwen, but I am super-nervous.” Elvia crawled a little closer and whispered into Gwen’s ticklish ear. “I am so scared right now. What if I can’t heal you guys? What if someone stops me? What if I am too slow and one of you gets seriously injured?”

“You’ll do fine, Evee, you always have. When have you ever failed us?” Gwen hugged the little girl closer. It was like holding a tiny kitten in-between her arms, driving her oxytocin crazy.

“God, please don’t let this be the time I screw up.” Elvia prayed.

“It won’t, Evee. I promise.” Gwen affirmed. She lowered her lips and kissed Elvia on the forehead. "Everything is going to be alright."

Gwen wasn’t sure what to make of Wednesday.

At Alesia’s behest, the group didn’t have class, but Yue and Debora were both absent due to their three-versus-three training with Whetu.

Elvia, likewise, had gone to see her uncle, wondering if Hans, who had served as a combat medic, had any last-minute wisdom to impart.

Gwen didn’t want to spend the day alone and, after some deliberation, she called Richard.

“Oh hey!” his voice answered from the other side of her Message device. “Am I free? Not yet, but I can be. One sec.”

“Whoa, no, I don’t want to bother you if you are busy.”

From a distance, Gwen could hear Richard announce with certainty that he was leaving his present engagement. “Okay, I am free. Where do you want to meet?”

"Richard! Really, I don't want to inconvenience you."

“I am not inconvenienced at all. My schedule is clear for the rest of the day.”

“Are you sure?”

“The city, or somewhere quieter? I know a new place, lovely Wildland ingredients. Want to try?”

“Sure. I want to ask you some stuff about Rosebay, if you have any idea.”

“Of course, I’ll tell you what I can.”

“See ya.”

The address that Richard had given was too far from the station, so Gwen took a taxi. When she arrived, she was surprised to find a warehouse converted into a farmhouse cafe. Business boomed, but she quickly located Richard in the crowd.

“Gwen.”

“Richard.”

They exchanged cheeks, drawing eyes from the passersby.

“Let’s head in.”

Gwen was surprised that he had already booked a seat. “It’s so busy, how did you get a table so quickly?”

“My junior's family at Prince’s owns the place.” Richard laughed, tapping his Storage Ring. “They reserve a few tables for friends and family of the place at all times.”

The waitress was cute and her skirt was short. She cast a few doe-eyed glances at Richard before taking their order.

Coffee arrived first. Richard had his cold-dripped; a classy choice, while Gwen stuck to coffee drenched with condensed milk. Over ices, she told Richard what she’d already seen at Rosebay, as well as Alesia’s dossier on who she thought might bet Gwen’s challenger.

Richard shook his head. “Not that Alesia is wrong, but Rosebay is hardly going to face you with students that you already know. Most schools have a few students they reserve for events just like yours. These kids are typically ones who go on to become core members of the school's alumni. They're talented scholarship students without family backing, so their loyalty is foremost to the school itself."

“How do you know this?” Gwen asked out of interest. It was highly unusual that Alesia hadn’t mentioned any of this; she had been meticulous with the details of the top students in Rosebay.

“Because I am one of them.” Richard smiled. “Even though I am ranked number one in the school of Conjuration, I have never participated in public matches for Prince’s. My position as a Prefect also comes with the role of Praetorian—someone who sets the record straight if an overwhelming force comes to challenge the school. I am not surprised Alesia is unaware of this, as she’s neither involved in Spellcraft competitions nor the private school scene.”

“Isn't this a big secret then?” Gwen asked, a little surprised. “And you just told me, just like that?”

"No worries.” Richard shrugged. “What’s an open secret amongst chums?”

“I am very grateful."

“A favour, then.”

“What do you recommend I do? I’d have no idea what to expect.”

“Well, there’s a method you could try, if you’re willing to put some faith in me.”

“Shoot,” Gwen affirmed. “I’ll tell you what I can.”

“I need your spell list.”

Gwen wasn’t sure about that. To give away her spell list… what if he leaked it to Prince's?

“Trust me.” Richard reached out and took Gwen’s hand. “I’ll never betray you. Not in this lifetime.”

The waitress arrived with their food—Wildland pheasant in cranberry reduction and South Atlantic bluefin tartare in lime-pine ponzu. For the rich, no meal could be too complicated.

Gwen felt defeated. “Okay, I trust you.”

“Wait up, let me set up a private Message Glyph.”

Gwen meticulously told Richard of her spell list, but only for her Conjuration, Evocation and Transmutation.

Richard’s hand shook a little when sipping his coffee. “Gwen, how are you learning tier IV spells so quickly?”

“Not my secret. Sorry, Richard.”

“Of course.”

Richard analysed Gwen’s spell list. “Wow, to think you have access to that already. I would recommend this…”

Alesia awoke the girls with a firecracker snap of her fingers. They stared bleary-eyed at the bundles of clothes atop their beds.

“Ta-da! I had the order rush-made. Cost me half a bag of crystals! Damage resistant, self-mending battle dresses. I’ve given Debora and Whetu theirs and these are your own. All in Blackwattle colours.”

“Aw, yeah!” Yue leapt from her bed and tore through her package. The paper wrapping pulled apart to reveal a smart-looking short sleeve blouse in white, with the right breast pocket blazoned with Blackwattle’s heraldry. The skirt was pleated and chequered, with a silver-grey tartan crisscrossed in black and white. There was a blazer as well, but only the blouse and the dress were enchanted to cut costs.

Gwen had asked her grandfather if he was willing to contribute, but Surya had told her that competitive items were too low-tier for him to be interested. That and Surya wasn't a tailor—he was a trinket maker.

The girls suited up, looking smart and preppy in their pleated skirts. For shoes, Gwen opted for her “glamoured” Mary-Janes, whose black leather befitted the outfit. A black ribbon tie finished the look.

“Hey,” Yue uttered with surprise, stretching her chest out and bending her elbows. “The shirt! It shapes itself!”

“That it does,” Alesia gave her pupil a thumbs up.

“Why don't you get one of these?” Gwen questioned Alesia. “Your Djinn shreds your clothes every time.”

“I could, but then I’d have to wear the same outfit all the time.” Alesia nodded. “Where would be the fun in that?”

The rest of the team met in the elevator lobby. It was interesting how each uniform had subtle differences. Elvia's blouse had long sleeves for better protection. Debora's shirt was sleeveless and her skirt was shorter, allowing her to perform more acrobatic movements. Comparatively, Whetu's shirt was like a second skin against the hilly terrain of his pectorals. His boots were heavy and steel-toed with an impressive array of studs.

When the members had finished inspecting one another's new uniforms, they were greeted by the unexpected sight of the academy's staff waiting for them in the atrium. Principal Bartlett was there, along with their tutors and instructors.

“Gwen! Elvia, Yue, Debora and Mister Taranga. I bid you fair tidings for the journey ahead. It brings me much joy to know that despite what little contribution the school could provide, you are now going out there to challenge the world in our name."

Gwen bowed low. The others followed.

A murmur broke out amongst the academy’s observers.

“That is not true, sir. We owe so much of what we have today to you, sirs and madams. Whatever the outcome of this competition, we shall not forget all that you have done for us,” Gwen replied without a second thought, bringing broad smiles to the instructors' faces.

In front of the cohort, teachers and students clasped hands with firm shakes. Mr Rawson even made a rare appearance with a Lumen recorder, taking into account the sacred moment when Blackwattle, a government high school without a rank, was going to punch above its weight.

How would history remember this moment? If the girls succeeded, would they become a Selective School? What of the students there? Would they receive the necessary training and funding to graduate as elites?

“Alesia, take care of them,” Bartlett intoned to their eldest. The principal's face brimmed with emotion, likely thinking of the day he had defended Gwen against her mother. Calling his old friend had been the best decision he had ever made.

“Oh, they’ll return safe and sound. Else there won’t be a single brick left standing in Rosebay!” Alesia laughed while the instructors awkwardly followed. They weren’t sure if the Magus was kidding or she was serious.

"You guys ready to head out?" A familiar voice called out.

"Paul!" Gwen waved excitedly. Alesia's Conjuration specialist had appeared at the door.

"Hey, Gwen, looking mighty fine there! You of age yet?"

"Soon, Paul," Gwen smirked winsomely.

"Not old enough to be dating, but old enough to be killing," Paul lamented a cardinal truth of their cruel world. "That's the Frontier motto! Anyway, if you ladies are good to go, I’ve got the Rosebay Tele-Circle fired up and waiting."

Motes of Conjuration mana drifted through the air, falling like dandruff onto the student’s new uniforms.

Alesia coughed. “God! What is with this archaic incantation? That efficiency! My God, when did they build this thing?”

“Feels like the seventies,” Paul the Conjurer answered. “You get this a lot in the older institutions.”

The rest of the teleported crowd gawked at the soaring cathedral before them.

The sea!

The cliff!

The open sky!

Yet more impressive was the scene before them. Their gaze fell from the impressive building to the ocean of blue-pleated skirts and dark penguin habits that faced them.

“Welcome to Rosebay!” Mistress Stone greeted them with open arms.

“WELCOME TO ROSEBAY!” The crowd of girls behind them announced at once.

There was a muffled explosion in the sky and Yue ducked out of instinct, causing a few laughs to break out amongst the crowd of younger girls. Debora shot her a mocking look, which was returned by a “hmmph!”

Above Gwen and the others, a cascade of rose petals began to fall, conjured by an incredibly useless but highly aesthetic signature spell.

“Cor Unum,” Stone commanded in archaic Latin.

“HEARTS AND MINDS!” The girls answered, their sweet voices filling the courtyard. But just as the Blackwattle crew had thought the show of force was over, the younger girls began to sing, their angelic voices joining the falling of the petals.

"Alleluia, alleluia,

For our Lord God Almighty reigns.

Alleluia, alleluia,

For our Lord God Almighty reigns.

Alleluia,

Holy, holy,

You are Lord God Almighty!

Worthy is the Lamb,

Worthy is the Lamb!"

Gwen and the crew felt frozen to the spot. What kind of reception was this? It was the grandest, most impressive thing they had ever experienced in their lives! Now apprehensive, she searched the podium and found two silhouetted forms on the VIP platform. One sported the familiar tweed jacket and vest, attended to by the slim figure of a woman with bark-like skin and autumn leaves for a head of air. Beside him was a middle-aged woman with two streaks of white hair running through her crown, coiled atop her head into a kind of high-piled braid. She had a severe look about her that radiated power and competence. This would unmistakably be Magister Ferris, one of the Ten and the patron of Rosebay.

The choir fell away, and Magus Stone opened a path for them. “I am looking forward to working with you, Gwen Song. Magister Ferris is very interested in you herself. When you rise in the world, please remember my humble service.” The Magus spoke as Gwen passed.

Gwen thanked the mistress but said nothing more. Exposing the bet would only make her companions unnaturally nervous. The stakes were plenty high already. Besides, she wasn't sure if Debora or someone might see her “deal” as some kind of betrayal. After all, anyone would be pleased to receive a scholarship in a school like Rosebay.

As they passed, the Blackwattle five felt like a herd of exotic beasts, watched with fascination by four hundred Catholic girls all dressed in blue habits embellished with red roses.

“Oh my goodness, look at that skirt! It so short I can see her knickers!”

“The leading one is so pretty! Master Stone seems to have taken a liking to her.”

“Oh my, look at that one, she’s so solid! Those muscles! Is she a Transmuter?”

“Who knows? I heard that regular students have to do manual labour to pay for tuition."

“How dreadful!”

“Look at the short Asian one.”

“Who cares? She’s just some migrant. I want to know about the tall one.”

“No! Look closely!”

“The big guy? Maybe he’s a manservant.”

“He’s so burly.”

“I think he’s kind of dreamy.”

"No way! What is on his face? A tattoo?"

“Look at his feet! One’s bigger than both my feet.”

“You know what they say about men with big feet.”

“What do they say?”

“They say…”

“Shush! Mother Superior is coming.”

“That they need big socks.”

The five were escorted into the courtyard and placed before the duelling platform. The platform itself was a generous field about a hundred by fifty metres, halved in the middle by a dividing line. The exterior sported magic dampeners and portable Force Walls which prevented the battle from spilling onto the observing audience. Gwen noted that the ground had been inscribed with Conjuration and Transmutation Glyphs, indicating that it could be repaired or transformed at the whim of the administrator into different landscapes.

On the opposite side, a team of girls shuffled in. They were all wearing identical blue habits with the red rose chest pin. Gwen could only tell them apart by their height as well as the mana that radiated from them.

“Detect Magic,” she muttered under her breath.

There were motes of Divination magic on the other side as well. The teams were getting an edge by checking one another out.

Gwen measured the mana emerging from the other side.

Fire Evoker.

Ice Conjurer.

Earthen Abjurer

Air Diviner

A Positive Energy healer.

Another Evoker, Earth again.

Then there was a girl different from the rest, whose elements were a strange mix of Fire and Earth, and whose school appeared indistinct. Here, Gwen guessed, must be the so-called Praetorian, a Magus-in-training, capable of tapping into at least two schools. At any rate, the other team had both regular members and reserve members. Gwen's team had only five. They could not afford to lose a single member, nor expose too many of their abilities before the five-versus-five. Richard's advice sounded in Gwen's mind.

Meanwhile, the teams gathered before Kilroy and Ferris, a supplicating gesture of deep respect.

After all that hubbub, inspections were carried out by Alesia and Stone on the opposition’s team members, satisfying the requirement that the students did not carry contraband items. Their Storage Rings were confiscated as well, in addition to portable devices, healing, buffing and mana potions. Magus Stone also saw Gwen’s scale but said nothing as Magister Ferris herself chose to remain silent.

When all was stated and done, the two Magus, Stone and Alesia, presented themselves below the Magisters and announced that they were ready to proceed.

"Transmute Terrain!"

Lottery transformed the field in the next instant into small crested hills and wild grasses that looked fully capable of tangling an unwary traveller.

Magus Stone turned from the platform towards the two teams.

“Gwen Song, Blackwattle Bay versus Julia Fiore Muller, Rosebay!”

Gwen stepped into the field and watched her opponent do the same. It was the tall girl with a para-element and two schools.

Julia removed her habit-like outer uniform to reveal a form-fitting bodysuit in blue and red, skin-tight against her hard body. Her hair had been cropped short, leading Gwen to suspect that she was used to close-quarter combat.

Gwen breathed in and out, calming her quickening heart. She had one shot at this. She had faith in Richard and she had confidence in herself.

“May the best Mage win the day! Students, COMMENCE!”

Chapter thirty

A Rose has its Thorns

Gwen knew she was well and truly in the pits the moment she ran a focused Detect Magic over Julia. They had a bad elemental match-up. Even with an alpha strike from all her Conjuration and Evocation spells, it was likely that Julia could survive. As a Magma Mage, her heat resistance reduced Lightning's impact, and her Earthen body dissipated its paralytic effects, nullifying the best components of Gwen's spells.

Gwen could further feel the resonating effects of the girl's Transmutation magic, far more powerful and practised than Debora's. There was something else there as well, hidden inside the girl's mana signature. If she had to guess, then Gwen's Divining bones would venture that it was Abjuration. Only a school that directly countered her Evocation could give her such a hair-raising, ominous sense of foreboding.

Richard was right. Rosebay had sent out their Praetorian, supreme in the confidence that they had countered her every move. She had no choice but to use her Void abilities; her only recourse was to minimise exposure while achieving maximum effect.

"Commence!"

There was no more time to think. Now, she must act.

"Molten Armour!" Julia incanted, and her skin began to boil with flowing motes of fire and Earthen mana, forming into a hardened carapace. After the few seconds it took for the spell to mature, Gwen knew her opponent would be unstoppable.

"Dimension Door!"

To the surprise of all, Gwen vanished from where she stood. She re-appeared in the next second, violently barging into the unsuspecting Julia, a semi-circle splash of dense darkness flickering for a fraction of a second.

Her opponent couldn't see or sense Gwen teleporting within a few centimetres of her. It was an absurd move, insane even. The temperature that surrounded Julia was almost several hundred degrees! It was enough to set Gwen's uniform aflame.

Yet none of that happened. The girl who had suddenly appeared in Julia's vicinity flickered, then Julia went tumbling into the dirt.

Julia was supremely confident she could defeat a Lightning Mage no matter how skilled or talented she was. There was too much of a difference in their elemental compatibilities.

First of all, a Lightning Mage had little to no protection against her Magma attacks, for Magma was the perfect combination of all-consuming heat betrothed with the force and power of the earth. Her basic catapults pulverised even an Earthen Abjurer's shielding. Combined with Transmutation, she could Jump, she could Blink, she could throw small meteors of devastating destruction. During Rosebay's Field Trip, Julia had single-handedly taken down two hundred green-skinned Goblinoids. She’d even wrestled an Ogre and had beaten it into the ground.

If so, how the hell did she lose?

Her defence was impeccable! Her instructor had attuned her Magma Skin Transmutation so that it warded against electrical attacks. Additionally, she had prepared Resist Lightning, Absorb Lightning and an assortment of effects designed negate Gwen Song's abilities.

Julia tried to think, attempting to recall the last ten seconds.

Her opponent had first-strike—that had been assured. After all, Gwen was a Lightning Mage, possessing the fastest acting element next to Radiance, while Julia was as slow as Ooze. As long as Julia endured Gwen's first spell, however, it was over, for Julia knew that it was nigh-impossible for the mana expenditure of an offensive caster to match the efficacy of a defender. Either through defeat by becoming OoM, or by submission, Julia was sure that the Lightning Mage would fail her challenge.

If so, why was she the one lying on the ground?

Julia propped herself up on her right arm, looking around the duelling field for an answer. Her chest hurt. Her whole body hurt. She was thunderstruck, but how had Gwen Song penetrated her defence?

Around the arena, the Rosebay cohort was full of bewilderment, disbelief and confusion, all mashed into a single moment of dismay. Julia looked up, feeling anger and resentment rising in her throat. Had Gwen Song cheated? Was she an Illusionist?

An illusion?

Julia's brow broke out in cold sweat. Was she trapped in an Illusory Phantasm?

Julia concentrated her mana, feeling the lingering magma on her skin boil and crackle, turning red and liquid.

"Julia!" The one and only Magister Irene Ferris, Master of her Master, called out. "Stand down!"

She didn't want to, but the voice was like an iron whip against her mind. The Magma Skin fell from her body and sizzled the turf. The transmuted landscape faded, returning to the grey-dark concrete of the unglamoured training field.

"Ma'am." Julia croaked. She was in disbelief. She wanted to tell the Magus that Gwen Song had cheated somehow.

"This is no illusion," Irene said kindly. "You were simply outmatched."

Julia shuddered. Bested?! Outmatched?! She turned to look at Magus Stone, who was frantically waving at Julia, commanding her to return.

What else could she do?

The Magister had spoken.

She’d lost.

Irene Ferris didn't much like the man next to her. Deathless Henry, they called him— Henry Kilroy, the Master of the Ten. She didn't like that moniker one bit. No man was the master of Irene Ferris, especially not an old relic from bygone wars.

There were other reasons why Irene didn't like Henry, but those were more pragmatic. As a Diviner, her auguries had often told of impending opportunities and wayward risks that the Tower faced. Sometimes, Henry heeded her words; other times, he ignored them. The man seemed to operate on a level that the other nine couldn't question, and she didn't like that one bit either.

Was it because Henry Kilroy was a part of the Great Generation? The folks who had initiated the Tower system, aiding the Great Reclamation? Sure, the once-august Kilroy had lowered himself to govern a tier II Tower, but it didn't mean that he should be above the Rule of Law, right? As the Tower's Oracle and Diviner, surely she had more say in the matter of defence.

Yet, the old man persisted in his "Middle Path" of isolation—develop the human cities, suppress the Demi-humanoids. Lock down all inter-species trading and control the level of contact between the races. How could Sydney progress if its ruler enforced stagnation?

Herself, Walken, and Lin, they were all like-minded in their belief that Mages and Men were quickly drifting apart, that the NoM would inevitably bury the Mage in an avalanche of incompetence. She was inclined to believe that Mages, so steeped in mana and magic, had more in common with the magical Demi-humanoid races.

In that case, why not open up trade with the Mermen? Get to know about their culture and language? Why not do as the Europeans do, and create envoys to and from sapient races like the fabled Elves and the Dwarves? Who's to say that Orcs and Hobs were only useful for their Creature Cores?

Ferris knew the dangers of opening Human cities and its civilisation to the malevolent races but also knew that they had much to learn from the ancient elementals. The Elder Races, such as the so-called High-Elves or their cousins, the Dark-Elves, all possessed Spellcraft surpassing humanity's own. Even the Dwarves, so isolated in their unseen, underground cities, had contributed the art of Golem making.

But Kilroy would have none of that. Over his dead body, he'd say.

So imagine Ferris' surprise when her protege told her that Kilroy's dog, Alesia de Botton, had come with a proposal…

One by the name of Gwen Song.

Ferris had known about Gwen Song since de Botton had brought the girl to the Tower to see Kilroy. During the fated encounter with Walken's guards, Ferris had watched from her chamber until Gunther Shultz had arrived to diffuse the heat.

She hadn't put much stock in the girl until Gwen had begun to show up on the regular three months before. Then both Walken and herself had decided to keep an eye on the girl. Irene could Scry the girl if she wanted, of course, but Kilroy would know, and that would trigger a level of insubordination Irene was ill-prepared to face. As far as she could tell, Gwen was Henry's new pet project. The man had done the same with Gunther Shultz, long-rumoured to be his apprentice, and then again in the late eighties with the unlikely firebrand Alesia de Botton. Now, he was working on a third. She knew that Gwen was a Lightning Mage, and she had heard from secretive sources that she might be a talented, prematurely awakened Magus as well. That was impressive, of course, but not good enough for Irene to contest Deathless Henry. Why was Henry so keen on the girl? That was the question to which she wanted answers.

Now she knew. She really should have risked that Scry.

When it'd happened, Ferris had thought herself caught in a glamour— an impossible affair, as a master of the School like herself was virtually immune to illusionary effects. Yet Ferris had nonetheless just witnessed something she'd only heard about in the old war stories.

A flash of darkness that consumed all light. An eruption of sickening mana that gave all who bore witness to its monstrous birth a feeling of sickening vertigo.

She felt the distinct distortion of space itself, a lurch of the stomach, a split second of terror that came from the bone.

A blast of Lightning followed. Then it had been over.

Gwen felt her offensive Dimension Door connect, her Void mana instantly eating into the Magma Mage's still-forming Molten Armour.

She immediately felt her vitals drop like a stone, but kept up at attack for a fraction more, feeling it crunch through the magma and touch the raw mana below. As Julia tumbled, falling onto her back foot, the central plating of the Molten Armour scattered; the spell overloading and dispelling, causing unformed sheets of smoking stone to fall from her body.

Gwen then thrust both hands toward Julia's, one upon her shoulder, while the other struck her solar plexus, forcing the air from her lungs. Gwen's inner metronome counted seconds until her mind was ready for its next incantation.

"Lightning Bolt!"

Before Julia even landed, Gwen materialised a bolt of electrical plasma from her lower hand and shot it towards Julia's chest, feeling the satisfying shunt of the energy conducting violently through the Magma Mage's body. Julia's Earthen constitution absorbed much of Gwen's spell, but enough of it had passed through her torso to paralyse her.

When Julia finally landed, it was with a limpid thump.

The crowd was still waiting for something to happen when the fight was already over.

"What happened?" someone asked.

"Where's the Molten Armour?"

"Why's Julia on the ground?"

"Why's the Lightning Mage standing over Julia?"

Their voices soon turned frantic, anxious, filled with questions and emotions for which no one had no answers.

Gwen turned to examine Kilroy and Ferris. Master Henry had a grin that was beyond entertained, his old face screwed up into a mask of untamed mirth. Ferris had made an 'O' with her lips so round she could fit a quail egg.

The murmuring of the crowd below grew in intensity, then Julia sat, bolting upright from her horizontal position. By then, she had already lost consciousness for a good five to six seconds.

Gwen turned, then bowed.

Julia dejectedly returned to her corner of the field, still staggering with disbelief. How had she lost? She didn't even get her armour up! Surely if she could have got her armour up, then she would have had a chance. Somehow, Gwen Song had used some sorcery to penetrate her impenetrable armour, but why did Master Ferris say nothing?

"Mistress Stone," Julia protested.

"Shush!" Magus Stone shot her a stern warning with her eyes of cold steel. She was taking a private Message from Magister Ferris and had no time to deal with her student's unexpected failure.

"I suspect this Gwen Song may be tapping into the element of the Void or at least something like it," Ferris warned her protege. "It's an element that is said to be hugely prohibitive due to its cost in life force, which would explain why they have a healer of such low tier with them. In the group combat, take out the healer first, or alpha-strike the Void Mage. Do not let Gwen near Julia! Give Julia time to use her best spell and you have this in the bag."

"Understood, Master," Stone replied silently.

"Make no mistake. I want this girl, Mildred. I absolutely must have her, do you understand?"

"Ma'am!" Mildred Stone replied with absolute certainty.

On the opposing field, Gwen returned to her teammates. She had kept up an illusion of good health upon receiving her victory.

Her companions had clapped and applauded, but their ruckus was alone in the eerie silence of four hundred pairs of disapproving eyes. If Gwen had defeated Julia in mortal combat, then sure, they could applaud the challengers, but what had occurred had been too absurd.

"Gwen!" Elvia rushed over to Gwen and clasped both her hands, channelling across a steady stream of vital mana to keep up Gwen's health.

Gwen had only her Master's Dimension Door to thank, that and a half-manifested Void Shield. It was a gamble in more ways than one, for if Gwen had lost control of the spell, or if she had overestimated the power of the armour, then her Void blast may well have cut through Julia and severely injured the girl. If she had failed to penetrate Julia's defence, then the match may already be lost.

What had seemed to outside observers like a simple manoeuvre, therefore, was the culmination of Conjuration, Evocation, Void and Lightning.

Gwen felt elated. With the success of her gamble. She had exposed very few of her capabilities, yet her enemy had been defeated but was alive and well. It was win-win for all counts.

The cost of using two consecutive Void spells, however, was dire in itself. The Dimension Door was a tier IV spell, far more demanding than the tier I bolts that she usually used. The Shield had likewise taken a toll on her body. When she had touched Julia in the final moments, the lingering heat from the Molten Armour had further made a mess of her hand.

Breathing heavily, Gwen received the healing energy from Elvia and felt the vitality restored to her body. A minute later, she no longer felt dizzy, drained and overcome by a sudden sense of vertigo. Her hand, likewise, was restored to its full function.

"Nice one, Gwen!"

"Sweet ass, sister!" Whetu applauded her. "That was fully sick ay!"

"My God!" Alesia embraced Gwen, enveloping her in her arms, crushing her violently, picking her up and performing a celebratory jig. "You are going to be famous! What the hell was that? Who taught you to use Dimension Door as an offensive spell? It's not on your lesson roster yet."

Gwen glanced over at Henry, twirling his beard expertly and gloating over a furious Magister Ferris. "I had a chat with Richard, my cousin from Prince's. He told me that against a bad match-up, I should burn my trump card and end it so quickly that I have nothing to give away. If it doesn't work, I'd likely lose anyway, so no losses there."

"What irresponsible advice!" Alesia snapped. "Only for competitions, Gwen. Never do this in the Wildland. It's suicide!"

"Yes, ma'am," Gwen replied earnestly.

"Oh! My little sister." Alesia embraced Gwen again. "Good work!"

A loud tap came from the direction of the podium, drawing their attention. It was Magus Stone. "Congratulations to Gwen Song, Blackwattle Academy, for taking the first duel. Now, we move onto our three-versus-three. Members of the team, please make your way to the stage."

Gwen looked over at her friends, who nodded confidently.

Yue, Debora, and Whetu moved to the stage. From Rosebay's stage, out came Julia yet again, followed by the Ice Conjurer and the Earthen Abjurer.

"Stage two, Team Challenge. Three versus Three. From Blackwattle—Yue Bai, Debora Jones, Whetu T Taranga! From Rosebay—Julia F Muller, Helen Carter, Beatrice A Dawson! Initialise Terrain!"

The field shifted and transformed into an urbanscape with short, stunted walls and obstacles in the centre, obstructing the line of sight. Yue cursed under her breath. This was the very worst for her Fire spells.

The girls opposite bowed, then took up their positions.

"No Gwen Song?" Irene Ferris questions her compatriot.

"No." Henry Kilroy smiled. "Is that a problem?"

Ferris tsked. There was no use crying over spilt milk.

Below, Magus Stone gave the signal. "Commence!"

Chapter thirty-one

The Higher the Expectation

“Fireball!" Yue opened up with a barrage of suppressive fire, opting for full coverage spells to mitigate the troublesome terrain of stunted walls and make-pretend buildings.

"Sand Armour!" Debora cycled her supplementary skills, attempting to reach the critical mass of self-buffs required for melee-mode.

"Resist Elements!" Whetu reinforced Debora, hoping his Aburation was enough to mitigate the searing heat of the Molten Armour when Debora inevitably met the Magma Transmuter in combat.

"Earth Shield!" On the other side of the arena, Beatrice the Abjurer conjured an Earthen barrier around Julia as the Magma Mage likewise self-buffed with Molten Armour.

"Julius! Ice Aura!" Behind her, Helena the Ice Conjurer summoned her Familiar, whose halo of cold instantly diminished the vigour of Yue's fire. From a distance, the girls could see that Julius was vaguely avian in shape, likely a gull of some sort.

"Shit!" Yue swore. "She's got a low-tier Spirit."

"Ice Storm!"

Following the final invocation, a blizzard rained down upon the Blackwattle team, manifesting as a hail of frost-white daggers cutting through the air in whistling shrieks.

"Pounamu Shield!" Whetu's unique ability caught the opposing team unaware. The hardened surface of his greenstone shield blocked the ice shards, deflecting the missiles with a large, dome-like structure that formed over the trio. With the cover offered by the low walls and their overhead space sheltered by the hexagonal lattice of the pounamu, Blackwattle was well-protected from the Conjurer's twin storm.

"Sugars!" Helena cursed. "They got a Mineral Mage too? Are you sure they're a team from the boonies? They're better provisioned than Lilith's!"

Meanwhile, the self-buffs from both team's Transmuters continued.

"Haste! Magic Weapon! Enhance Strength!" Debora invoked.

"Haste! Enhanced Agility! Elemental Weapon!" Julia followed suit.

From the sidelines, Gwen perceived that there were subtle differences between Debora's and Julia's magical enhancement, indicating the difference in Spellcraft. Magic Weapon buffed the natural damage of Debora's strikes, but her physical blows were weak against Molten Armour. On the other hand, Julia's heated Elemental Weapon worked wonders against Debora's Sand Armour. Furthermore, while Debora opted for heavy-hitting strikes, the agility used by Julia ensured that she could both dodge and strike, as Elemental Weapon did not require direct force to achieve maximum potential.

"Oh no, Debora…" Gwen muttered anxiously. She wanted to call out or to Message her teammates, but external communication during a duel was forbidden.

Meanwhile, a battle for AOE supremacy took place between Yue, whose Affinity ensured she had efficient and expeditious spell casting, and the Conjurer Helena, whose Ice Spirit dealt a double dose of elemental damage with every chant.

Fire and ice clashed overhead, forming into clumps of superheated steam. Where their spells had crossed over without a volatile interaction, they were intercepted by their respective Abjurers.

For the moment at least, Rosebay and Blackwattle were equally matched. The obstacles of this mock urbanscape limited their options. If Yue used single-target spells such as rays, her opponent could simply duck behind a wall. Likewise, Helena was just as frustrated. Her Familiar was not the melee type and, like Yue's fire, her Ice spells needed line of sight.

Luckily for Yue, Whetu was tanking like a champion.

"Get a load of this!" Yue impatiently clamoured as Whetu's Shielding ricocheted another volley of icy shards. "Empowered Fireball! Quickened Fireball!"

Yue had been training on the weekends until she’d spewed blood. Alesia had been teaching her Apprentice a way to over-channel her spells to achieve meta effects. As a result, simple spells took more mental capacity to cast and drained double or triple the mana but possessed meta-enhancements that could change the course of the battle.

The twin fireballs took Beatrice, the Earthen Abjurer, by surprise. The first empowered spell had hidden the smaller ball behind it. A split-second later, the initial blast exploded across the surface of her Earthen barrier, shattering a part of its stony carapace, after which the second blast bit into the crumbling dome. The force of the concussive blow was such that it blew away the brick and mortar cover, revealing the girls from Rosebay.

"Fudgesickles!" Beatrice grunted, redoubling her effort, attempting to repair her damaged barrier before Yue could drop another bomb. "Helena, keep her off me!"

"Sleet Storm!" Twin gusts of slippery frost washed over Yue and Whetu.

The Maori wasn't even breaking a sweat. He'd spent the last three months taking barrages from the girls. Compared to Gwen and friends’ desperate bid for lunch, the Conjurer's Sleet Storm felt like a gentle, cooling breeze.

Beside them, Debora was ready.

In opposition, Julia was likewise ready to rumble.

"Blink!"

"Blink!"

The two Mages were both orthodox students of rapid translocation, preferring melee combat stratagems over ranged attacks.

They clashed mid-field among an eruption of brick and mortar, crashing through the Transmuted landscape with impunity. The first few exchanges saw the two well-matched. Debora dropped an axe-kick onto Julia's shoulder, while Julia pummelled Dobra with a right hook.

Their difference in methodology, however, began to show as the exchange grew heated. With her enhanced agility, Julia could dodge one or two of Debora's strikes, while Debora's defence was wholly incapable of stopping the elemental barrage that came from Julia.

Clang!

Wham!

Grunts and howls punctuated the meeting of flesh. All around the girls, chunks of molten lava and gouts of sand-turned-glass scattered like violently shattered china.

"How barbaric," Ferris, whose own vocation was Divination, Illusion and Enchantment, muttered to herself. "They look like two mindless elementals jostling for a mana node."

Henry chuckled. It was true that Mages who brawled as their primary occupation were few and far in between. Close combat with humanoid Magical Creatures was viable, but how does one punch a Kraken, kick an Aboleth or wrestle a Chimera? "That girl, she's tier IV?” Henry mused. "Saving the best for last, perhaps."

"Who knows?" Ferris said nothing. She was still peeved that Gwen Song had caught Julia flat-footed and cheated a victory from her Praetorian candidate.

Yue scoffed at the pitiful Sleet Storm hammering away at her, harmlessly countered by Whetu's pounamu shielding. Rosebay's Earthen Mage was barely keeping up—victory was within her grasp. "Empowered Firestorm!"

The immediate space above the Conjurer and the Abjurer filled with the red and glowing mana of the Elemental Plane of Fire.

"Absorb Elements!" All the Abjurer could do was ready herself for the incoming assault. "Helena, what are you doing? Run interception on that Evoker!"

"I am trying to, damn it! Their Mineral Mage is sturdier than a brick outhouse!"

Helena redoubled her efforts. "Icy Sphere!"

Two gigantic spheres of ice materialised and launched themselves towards Yue. If they struck, the oppositional element would severely injure the Evoker. At worst, Helena hoped that Yue would flinch and fumble the spell.

Instead, Yue showed no sign of fear. What Helena didn't know was that Yue had already been blooded by two months of live Fire combat with the Muckfolks, that she had experienced hundreds of moments where her life was not in her own hands, but the that of the Abjurer, Taj. She couldn't even be bothered to glance at the ice boulders. In her mind, there were only two outcomes. Either Whetu blocked it and she nuked these bitches, or she nailed these two bitches first, then got railed by two giant blocks of crushing ice. The important thing was that she managed to disable two enemies for the price of one.

The Rosebay girls helplessly watched the spell above them continue to manifest. They didn't have access to any Translocation spells and couldn't dodge the empowered Firestorm. In a desperate bid, Helena recalled her Elemental Spirit and used it to lower the temperate around them, filling the localised area with a crystalline barrier of ice.

Yue made a motion with her hand, forcing the Firestorm to accelerate. In the same instant, a pounamu shield appeared before her unerringly, deflecting both giant boulders.

The Firestorm struck. It took only two seconds of bombardment from the meteor shower for the half-shattered Earthen shield to fail. The Ice Elemental was likewise consumed within a few seconds, retreating to its pocket dimension.

"I yield!"

"Yield!" The two girls from Rosebay cried out dejectedly.

Yue ceased her channelling, feeling a dizzying weakness as her mana dropped from half-tank to almost out. Whetu caught her as she stumbled backwards, then turned his attention towards Julia and Debora's duel.

Another chunk of Debora's Sand Armour had spent its resilience, instantly turning into molten glass as it fell from her body. Moving motes of Earthen mana replenished the sandy carapace, but Debora wasn't doing well.

Adjacent to Debora, Julia formed both hands into a hammer. She struck the surfer girl a mighty blow, sledgehammering Debora with a shockwave of raging heat that exploded sent her reeling.

As Debora stumbled backwards, Julia took the opportunity to advance, bring up a left-right combo that caught Debora square in the gut. Her opponent was stronger than the average private academy student, but her Spellcraft was far below her Affinity with the sand.

Just as Julia was about to go for the killing blow, Yue's Firestorm had landed and taken out her teammates. Julia glanced at her two teammates as their shields failed, furrowing her brows. It was down to her then. Unlike the spoilt rich girls, she was a Praetorian; the reputation and honour of Rosebay rested upon her shoulders.

"Catapult!" Julia shot a lava clump at Debora, fully expecting the girl to perish. Instead, she was thwarted by a green-stone shield that instantly formed in front of Debora, blocking her explosive payload. Julia's offensive power was still impressive, though, for she crushed the pounamu down to its honeycombed lattices.

"This chuck's off fence is off the charts!" Whetu grunted. "It's like I am getting pounded by two or three Mages at once."

Debora recovered, her expression unknowable behind her mask of sand. "Minor Stone Shape!"

Pillars of sand instantly wrapped around Julia, anchoring her to the ground.

"Yue! Do it now!"

Julia growled menacingly and raised her shield, a solid wall of hardened magma. But there was no alpha-strike. Yue was OoM.

"Looks like you're out of luck, surfer girl," Julia gloated.

"You still gotta get through me." Debora retorted.

"Oh, I will, don't you worry." Julia pulled at the sand encasing her legs, surprised that she was in fact, stuck. The surfer girl's Affinity was impressive, even if her spells were lacklustre. "You have a Spirit?"

Debora didn't reply. From the expression on her face, it took all her effort to keep Julia pinned.

"Your Spirit is wasted on you." Julia grinned at Debora. "Let me show you how a true Transmuter fights." The girl's eyes smouldered. Her grin turned draconic as her canines distended and her face elongated. "Polymorph!"

There was an explosion of magma, the shockwave sending Debora stumbling backwards, shredding her Sand Armour, revealing skin that was raw and scorched beneath. Gwen gasped from the sidelines. Neither Resist Elements nor Sand Armour had been sufficient.

"Eek! Debora!" Elvia placed her hand over her mouth,

Gwen likewise stood from her seat, her heart hammering at her throat. Debbie's wounds looked like second-degree burns. Gwen couldn't even begin to imagine the pain she must be feeling right now.

There was no remedy for Gwen's anxiety, though; for Debora, Yue and Whetu had a bigger problem of the pseudo-draconic variety.

When the spurt of magma faded, the Blackwattle Team was staring up at a wyvern a full three metres tall and eight or more metres in length, dripping with magma and snorting gouts of superheated plasma. It was Julia, of course, anyone could see that, but the crowd began to scream and shout, some with jubilation, others shrieking with fear and panic. The younger girls, especially, were screaming their lungs out.

"Oi, fuck me dead!" Yue whined.

"FUCK!" Whetu marvelled.

They were boned; the Blackwattle trio knew it. Here was what it meant to be outclassed and outmatched. Sure, between Debora's Sand and Whetu's pounamu, they could keep the damn thing kited until they were OoM, but then what? Debora wasn't near strong enough to try and damage a fucking wyvern with Molten Armour. Whetu wasn't equipped either. Yue was OoM already, and even if she weren't, her Fire spells weren't going to be spectacular against a Wyvern that was already on fire.

There was a decision to be made here, and Whetu knew he had to make the call. "We yield!" he cried out.

Yue and Debora both turned to glare at him.

"Oi! You two hot water bottles need to cool your jits! There's still a five-versus-five, and we got no reserve team members, don't get injured!"

The girls deflated. "We yield."

"I yield."

Surprisingly, Julia the Wyvern was a good sport. She didn't take the opportunity to injure either Debora or Yue, for she wanted a proper match up with Gwen at her team's best. She wanted to show the world that Rosebay could best any challengers, no matter how absurd or unique their talent.

Julia transformed back.

"Winner, Rosebay Academy."

The home crowd was wild with immediate jubilation, with the blue-clad girls hugging and applauding and clapping hysterically. Dusty and beaten, the three returned to their team. Elvia immediately began healing Debora, restoring her swollen skin to its usual colour of honeyed copper.

"You guys did great," Gwen assured them. "There was nothing to be done against Julia, don't sweat it! It was a classic bad match-up. We didn't know she had access to tier IV spells already."

"More than that, tiger" Alesia interjected, hugging Yue and giving Debora and Whetu a pat on the shoulder, "That girl is absurdly gifted. You can't just turn into a wyvern willy-nilly, you know. She owns a Spirit—a low-tier one, probably salvaged from a Wildland Lesser Wyvern. I'd hazard a guess that its thanks to Magister Ferris over yonder." She indicated at Irene Ferris with her thumb. "Magister of the Tower, and one of the three with their hands in the Grey Market. Not exactly a challenge to trade some human offal for a rare Spirit Core from the Demi-races."

"Doesn't change the fact that we lost," Yue said dejectedly.

"Sorry." Debora looked the most distraught out of all of them. She looked devastated by the defeat.

"Debbie." Gwen reached out and touched her hand. "It's alright. We still have the next match."

Debora pulled Gwen closer and buried her head in her shoulders.

"Not now," Alesia announced stoically. "There's still the five-versus-five. Gwen, what's your take on the wyvern?"

"I think I am the only one capable of pushing through that Molten Armour, but I am going to need protection. Whetu?"

"Yes?"

"Give me full coverage for about four spell cycles. I am going to bury Caliban and then tentacle up. I need ten seconds without interruption."

"Got it."

"Yue, I need you to provide cover fire, keep their Abjurer and Conjurer distracted, their healer too, if you can manage it."

"Too easy."

"Debs," Gwen continued.

"Yes?"

"We're going with formative C. I need you to play disruption with the Wyvern. Keep them distracted until my spells are done."

"Got it. I'll do my best," Debora promised, putting a hand over her left breast.

"Elvia, I am counting on you to keep me up. Both Caliban and the Tentacles are tier IV, and I'm pretty sure I can't sustain both for long. Whetu, Elvia is going to be directly behind me, so I am counting on you to take care of us both."

"Sweet ass."

"Alright, we’ve got about half an hour of rest. Let's get some scenarios mapped up!"

Alesia watched her sister-in-craft pour over the details with a feeling of accomplishment. To think that, almost a year ago, she had picked up a trembling Gwen from her uncle's manor, hands shaking with fright and uncertainty. Watching the kids crunch their strategy, looking at Gwen and her companions, the battle-hardened Magus wondered if by skipping school, she had missed an opportunity for something precious.

Chapter thirty-two

The Harder They Fall

Opposite Blackwattle, Rosebay likewise held its strategic meeting, overseen by the Headmistress, Mildred Stone. "Helena and Nancy, full disruption on Gwen Song, as much as you're capable of against their Abjurer."

"Got it."

"Will do."

"Bea, full priority on Julia until she buffs up, if Julia buffs up and transforms without incident, the battle is as good as ours."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Jody, keep the team up as long as you're able. Don't be afraid to use your Shield of Faith if Bea's busy shielding Julia."

"Acknowledged, ma'am."

"Julia, we're counting on you."

"I won't fail you, ma'am, nor Magister Ferris." Julia placed a hand over her heart. She could feel the Wyvern-soul within, melded into her astral form. It was a rare and precious gift, something that no Mage who’d gained their boons through Monster hunting could ever attain. Humanity didn't have the means to entrap the astral form of Magical Creatures within their Cores—their Essence escaping. That was a skill which belonged to older, far more attuned magical races.

"Remember what I told you. Gwen Song cannot possibly keep up her ‘unique’ ability for long. Likewise, she can't endanger your lives, so use it to your advantage. Take out her healer in your Wyvern form, and the battle is as good as won."

"Yes, ma'am. Please look forward to my performance!"

Stone returned to the podium to open the final match. "From Blackwattle High School—Gwen Song, Yue Bai, Debora Jones, Whetu T Taranga, Elvia Lindholm. From Rosebay Academy—Julia F Muller, Helen Carter, Beatrice A Dawson, Jody Klein and Nancy Hayes!"

The crowd cheered.

"For the deciding match—five-versus-five group combat. Adjudicators, please initialise the field. Terrain!"

The field shifted. It filled with water and churned with mud.

It was a bog! The contestants were suddenly ankle-to-knee-deep in thick, viscous mud that sucked at their feet.

Team Blackwattle looked at one another. It didn't affect their plan, but it wasn't going to make things easier. As for the other team, the bloody Wyvern could fly. Slogging through the terrain, they moved into position. Debora and Yue moved to the fore, Whetu was in the middle, and Elvia was behind Gwen.

In opposition, Rosebay seemed much more organised. The girls spaced out expertly so as not to get in each other's way, the ranged casters gathering behind the Abjurer, while the healer stood in the middle. Julia was by herself in front, where the Earthen Abjurer's frontal shielding could give both herself and her team ample coverage.

Julia felt her pulse quicken upon seeing Gwen's figure slogging through the mud. This terrain was a godsend for her. She could fly, while Blackwattle's Transmuter, Debora, had to use Jump. Furthermore, the sticky, viscous mud wreaked havoc on the Sand element of the surfer girl, making her speciality even more limited.

Stone waited until both teams had acknowledged their new terrain. "Commence!"

Unlike the smaller duels, a cloudburst of colour announced the beginning of the five-versus-five contest. The mass melee was the king of Mage duels, something that had its origins in the Olympic arenas of yore. Every four years, all around the world, audiences were glued to their Lumen-casters in public squares, universities, pubs and homes, watching the World Spellcraft Championships.

"Bless!"

"Sand Armour!"

"Resist Elements!"

"Quickened Fireball! Empowered Firestorm!"

"Ariel!" Ariel bolted straight for the sidelines, a white streak of moving lightning, its feet barely touching the mud, trying to flank the opposing team.

Rosebay likewise reciprocated.

"Molten Armour"

"Resist Elements!"

"Julius! Sleet Storm!"

"Fireball!"

"Bless!"

An array of spells opened up the epic combat. It was a pivotal moment; a game of strategy and mental chess. Synergy, prediction, teamwork; only all three could ensure the victory of one team over another.

On Gwen's side, Whetu's pounamu shield appeared, instantly deflecting the incoming Fireball and Sleet Storm with a crash of splintering green-stone shards.

"Firestorm?! Fireball?” Beatrice the Abjurer wailed. She had barely managed to erect her Earthen shield when the Fireball exploded over her team.

"Shield of Faith!" Their healer, Jody, incanted in a panic, just catching the Fireball before it engulfed herself and Helena.

"Just hold on," Julia encouraged her teammates. "I'll pay them back ten-fold!"

"Firestorm incoming!" Helena cried out. This Asian girl was absurd! She was going to burn all her mana in two spells?! Again, Helena retracted her Spirit, Julius, and used him to form an aura of ice so that the rising temperature caused by the Firestorm would not harm her teammates.

"Polymorph!" Julia had matured her Molten Armour and was now ready to transform into a living coup-de-grace. Her morphic field began to shift, though without the explosion of magma this time, as she was among allies.

SPAK! SPAK! SPAK!

A cascade of lightning-tinged needles washed over her. Where the hell had that come from? She scanned the battlefield and caught a mongoose, of all things, taunting her. "It's her Familiar! Get it off of me!" she commanded.

Nancy, the Fire Evoker, began a barrage of Firebolts towards the edge of the field when Ariel gave her a swish of its tail and let loose a burst of electrical darts. It took all of Beatrice's concentration to shield Nancy from the paralysing assault.

Was it hard to shield against a Firestorm? Of course, absurdly so. Though the spell originally manifested Ice, Yue's ridiculous Affinity meant that the invocation resembled a small meteor shower. Every piece of debris that materialised and fell was a ball of unstable plasma, exploding on impact into a shower of heat-filled destruction. As long as Yue kept up the channel, the meteors manifested unceasingly, striking without order, making defence nigh impossible.

Beatrice cursed under her breath. All she could do was maximise her mana usage and form semi-spherical domes of protection above all her companions. Usually, the Evoker was OoM long before the Abjurer.

In this, Beatrice was confident. Mana Pools, more formally known as VMI—Volumetric Mana Index—was a fact of Spellcraft that couldn't be mitigated by effort. No matter how gifted a student was, how able they were in the development of Spellcraft, there was a hard limitation on the growth of one's mana reserves. Not even a strict diet of the best Wildland materials could supersede this fact, only expedite its growth. The advantage of a well-provisioned Mage, therefore, was an accumulation of both time and resource.

"I got this—" Just as she was about to declare that she could hold the fort steady, there was a loud crack and a blast of light so bright that her retinas seared, turning her mind white with wonder. A spike of painful tinnitus stabbed so violently into her ears that for a second, she blanked out. The girls from Rosebay were well-trained, but they were far too green.

Without warning, the Firestorm broke through the Abjurer's shielding and descended.

Gwen had refrained from casting her spells precisely because she was waiting for the Firestorm to hit. It was a strategy that she had worked out with Yue and the crew precisely because she had an unusual, non-lethal AOE signature spell—Flashbang.

It would work only once, and it was time.

As Julia began her exultant transformation, Gwen let loose the most potent Flashbang she could muster right between the five of the Rosebay team, behind Julia and in front of her companions. She placed the conjured explosion directly under the dome created by the Abjurer, utilising one of the Lightning element's most overpowered characteristics—the ability to manifest at a designated point in space without a projectile trajectory.

A split-second later, the signature invocation erupted in an explosion of light and sound, amplified by the half-dome above the Abjurer. The spell had disorientated them all, but the refracted sound waves striking the Abjurer had stunned her so magnificently that the girl appeared to have lost consciousness for half a second.

Instantly, the Abjurer's Earthen dome crumbled. With a grunt, Yue pushed downward with both hands, channelling the last of her mana into the Firestorm.

Her objective accomplished. Gwen focused on setting a welcome for the Wyvern.

"Beatrice!" Julia was beyond livid when she realised that their Abjurer had failed them and that an empowered Firestorm was about to wipe out four members of her team.

With a heavy conscience, she ignored her team and instead focused on her Molten Armour. What was done was done. Julia had to even the playing field in other ways. With a lunge, she pushed herself from the swampy bog, her new Wyvern form taking flight and moving towards the Blackwattle Team.

"Minor Stone Shape!"

Julia had made it about half-a-metre when she realised that her hind legs were tethered to something in the bog, weighed down by what felt like two giant ball-and-chains fastened to her body. She arched her serpentine neck above the duelling field and saw the surfer girl, both arms up to her elbows in the mud, manipulating the sand as an undercurrent beneath the transmuted mud.

"Insolence!" the Wyvern roared.

Julia shot a blast of superheated air towards the Transmuter girl, but a green-stone shield of honeycombed pounamu appeared before Debora and intercepted the destructive force of the breath.

Julia could hear her teammates whimpering behind her, incensing her to greater violence. With a furious tug, she forced her body into the air, pulling up two thick tendrils of sand still tethered around her ankles.

"I can't hold her any longer!" Julia heard the surfer girl cry out in alarm, her head now full of heat and vengeance. With a roar, she dived towards the Blackwattle party, towards Gwen, towards the healer hidden behind her. If Julia could just take out Gwen, take out the healer supporting her, then victory was still possible!

Even with the loss of four members of their team, Julia felt she could do it. She was the chosen Praetorian. Magister Ferris had the highest hopes for her. How could she fail, especially after the fiasco of their one-versus-one?

The Wyvern came. The plan was working.

"Debora, good work! Finish off the stragglers," Gwen called out. "Yue, get behind Whetu. Recover some mana! Whetu, priority shielding on Elvia. I can't keep my spells up without her!"

"Aye!"

A shadow befell them, an angry Wyvern dripping with magma hovered a dozen metres above them, glowing with magma.

Julia dived.

Irene Ferris fumed with frustration, gripping the arms of her Edwardian settee with disappointment and defeat. When the empowered Firestorm had descended, she knew instantly that their chances for victory had gone to the dogs.

Who'd have thought that the little harlot had a signature spell, one that she'd never seen before? What was it? Flashbang? An interesting concept, but one that heavily borrowed the instantaneous qualities of spatial manifestation associated with Quasi-Elemental Lightning.

Who had invented it? A unique, elemental-specific spell. Was it the man beside her? Was it the little witch herself?

Rosebay's Abjurer was as good as gone after that resonating blast of light and sound. Without shielding, the healer was useless too, as they lacked mass-healing at the lower tiers. The Conjurer was doing her best to keep the flames at bay, but it was a futile gesture. Their own Fire Evoker had done her best, but between the harassment by that mongoose and that strange green Mineral shielding, she may as well be absent.

Was it a problem of skill? No, Irene knew that the girls were well-trained and far exceeded the level of expertise expected of their age. It was instead a problem of application, an issue of combat experience. The Blackwattle team had seen far more action, somehow. Their Evoker, the Asian girl, gave an air of destructive intent that Irene had seen in veterans. The green-stone Mage, likewise, was too well-trained to be a member of a public school. Even the mediocre Transmuter had a mid-tier Spirit that could shape sand. In addition to Gwen Song's presence, why was there an all-star team from a school as poor and neglected as Blackwattle? How had they even managed to throw the oddball bunch together?

Irene looked over at Henry Kilroy, who was sipping his Golden Mead and nodding to himself with every other spell exchange.

"Helen Carter, out! Beatrice Dawson, out! Jody Klein, out! Nancy Hayes, out!" Ferris' protege, Mildred Stone, looked as though she was spitting blood as she announced each of the girls who yielded.

But there was hope yet. Julia's Wyvern had almost reached Gwen Song. If she could take out the Void girl and her healer, then it was all over.

Gwen felt her vitality drain away. Was it possible for a person to feel hollow? It was the first time that she had consciously pushed herself so far.

Elvia, too, felt her reserve of Positive Energy rapidly exhaust itself. It was as though a Nosferatu had suddenly drained the warmth from her veins and replaced it with arcane ice. She grew instantly rigid, her limited Mana Pool incapable of keeping up with the demand of Gwen's output.

Above, the Wyvern was descending from a terrific arc, approaching them with the force of a freight train that was disastrously also on fire.

Gwen waited until the Wyvern skimmed the pond, then released the last part of the spell she'd been holding steady at the cost of her vitality. "Dark Tentacles!"

Gwen's tentacles didn't sprout from the ground as the spell had initially intended, but directly as a writhing mass anchored onto thin air, growing like an angry sea anemone and flailing like the tendrils of a carrion crawler.

The watching crowd held their breath as a feeling of disgust and vertigo swept over them.

Julia knew that the tentacles were supremely dangerous, but she had no recourse— like a shot from a bow, her trajectory was set in stone. She flew headfirst into the mass, feeling it envelop her Molten Armour.

Immediately, Julia knew she was in dire danger. If the tendrils were flesh, they would have burned. If they were material, they would have crumbled. What element was this? It was as though ropes that had no mortal existence held her imprisoned. Furthermore, they seemed to be consuming the mana from her armour! With each passing second, she could feel the tentacles wrapping themselves tighter around her Wyvern form, stripping away chunks of her carapace, scraping hungrily at the layer below to pry at her flesh.

"Lightning Tentacles!"

Yet another layer of tentacles wrapped around Julia, this time lashes of lightning that didn't so much as entangle her as wildly flay away at her skin, sending more pieces of molten carapace flying away like charred, dark china. She twisted her sinuous head so that she faced Gwen, who was concentrating on her spells while the petite healer hid behind her. Both girls had complexions whiter than bedsheets.

She drew in a mighty breath and launched a jet stream of superheated flames towards Gwen, hoping that it would disrupt the channelling of these ridiculous tentacles that had her entrapped.

"Wall of Sand!"

"Pounamu Shield!"

"Shield of Faith!"

A triple layer of shielding erupted.

The force of the breath blasted through the sand wall and struck the pounamu shield, crushing it. The glowing shield unique to the healer class dissipated the remaining elemental damage.

Gwen Song didn't even flinch.

Julia felt the flower of despair blossom within her chest, the confidence and bluster of mere moments ago withered. But she wasn't about to give up. Her pride wouldn't allow her to yield. There was one more gamble she could participate in; a final chance to set the record straight and prove that she was better than these yokels. "Polymorph!"

To Gwen and the others' surprise, their target disappeared. Julia became a flaming peregrine a hundred times smaller than her Wyvern form, flying towards Gwen in the hopes of physically assaulting her in her human shape. The twin-tentacle spells automatically reached for their target, but Julia was far too swift. She edged closer to Gwen, the distance between them disappearing in an instant.

This was it! Julia thrilled. Her victory was assured! She could almost see Gwen Song's amber-green pupils now; her reflection refracted within Gwen's eyes. In a moment she would expend the last of her mana to dispel her avian form, then she would pin this upstart into the ground.

"HALT! BLACKWATTLE WINS!"

The voice of Irene Ferris cried out like a thunderclap across the duelling field, amplified by a Clarion Call. Julia banked in her avian form, throwing her body to a screeching aerial tumble before return to her human form to stare at her Grandmaster in disbelief. Why? Why did the Grandmaster announce their loss?

Against the podium's iron railing, Irene Ferris's chest rose and fell. She turned towards Henry Kilroy. Her Divination-empowered eyes were alive with shock and horror. As a Diviner, she was rarely, if ever, caught unaware. Yet today, she was the victim of one upset another after another.

"Henry," she said quietly, trying to find a better word but failing to, "what the hell did I just foresee?"

Chapter thirty-three

A Sight for Sore Eyes

Diviners are a strange breed of Mages.

Diviners are the dowsing rods of the Spellcraft world, sensing danger by splitting the threads of probability. Yet who could say that the stream of potential would remain unperturbed if a stone displaced the water? Fate was a fatal trio, or so the Greeks had foretold—a cabal of incidence and chance. The sisters are fickle, and a change of luck brought untold, unforeseen calamities. The great American Diviner, Edward N Lorenzo, had once stated that chance was as delicate as a butterfly's wings—that one wrong flutter led to hurricanes on the opposite side of the world.

Though hyperbolic, Lorenzo's warning regarding the dangers of unmitigated uses of Divination struck a chord with Magi and Magus of the craft, ultimately endorsed by the "Oracle" of Delphi herself. Nonetheless, despite all the trials and tests carried out by Diviners in the age of objective Spellcraft, no answer could be found as to how their spells foretold the future. In any case, Lorenzo's warning endured.

Disasters were predicted and mitigated, but never averted. The public trust in Diviners remained sceptical. However, that didn't mean Divination itself was unimportant to the Mageocracy by any means.

The lower tier spells, perfected by Spellcraft research, worked wonders for Mages surviving in the wilderness or trawling through a Demi-human dungeon. Detect Magic, Detect Traps, Detect Thoughts, these were mainstays of the Divining school.

Likewise, Message, the quintessential spell in an age of information, was only made possible by weaving Divining scripts into augur devices, searching out individual recipients amongst the numberless multitude of humanity.

Likewise, for a globalising Mageocracy, the advent of enchantments utilising Tongues in conjunction with Message devices created possibilities of human communities working together as one to repeal the advancing tide of Magical Creatures.

As such, in a practical sense, Diviners were lauded and protected, much like the Clerical healers, whose presence was essential for the survival of humanity in a hostile world.

These reasons were why Magister Irene Ferris of the Ordo Oceania was first and foremost a Diviner, then an Enchanter, followed by her ongoing vocation in the School of Illusion. As a bloodline caster from a long line of Diviners, she could tap into the streams of the uncertain future, to read the eddies and currents of its passing as long as it involved herself directly.

Could she foretell the future?

No.

Irene had not once inferred that she possessed such means. She was a Master of the Scry, not a master of unthreading the infinitely complex sisal knots of fate.

What she possessed was instead a supernatural ability to sense danger, both for herself and those close to her. It wasn't something that foretold the future, but it had earned her enough prestige and support in her younger days to gather the necessary resources to achieve the rank of Magus in her thirties, then Magister in her fifties.

Lucky Irene, they called her.

Her combat teams always escaped imminent danger. Her expeditions avoided every ambush. Her experiments in Alchemy and Enchantment rarely went awry.

Slowly but surely, she gained a seat on Oceania's Grey Faction becoming one of the three Magisters who believed in communicating and trading with the Demi-humans. Under her watchful eye, the Tower experimented with extra-species trade, bringing boons and gifts otherwise unattainable for the nation.

Rosebay was her mother school. Irene possessed fond memories of the place with its stern-faced but kind-hearted nuns who had been so good to her. As a Magister, she had used her influence to build the school into something marvellous and extraordinary. An Orthodox Catholic school, no matter how wealthy, struggled to escape its Frontier status. With her influence and the Grey Market, however, Irene had provided the school with a plethora of resources available only to the colleges linked to London, like Prince's.

Julia Fiore Muller was one such talent Irene had uncovered.

Julia was a prodigy of the Transmutation school with a ten-thousand-in-one talent of Para-Elemental Magma. Were it not for the fact that the girl was a Transmuter-Abjurer, Irene would have taken Julia on as her Apprentice.

The IIHC had been Julia's chance to shine. Then unexpectedly, like a bad joke, her protege had been defeated by Gwen Song.

Irene didn't know what to think other than how deeply Henry Kilroy had hidden his pet sorceress. She could hardly keep her own heart from wringing in her chest when the girl demonstrated a talent Irene had only read in the Tower's annals.

A Void Mage.

There had been a Void Mage in the past—Henry's infamous wife, Elizabeth Winsted Sobel, who had died while serving in Europe. The girl, Gwen Song, even looked like Elizabeth in her dossier photos—dark hair, bright eyes, pale white skin that had an ethereal, deathly pallor.

Irene had never met Henry's late wife, but like all Mages who had grown up during that time, she had heard of the legend. Elizabeth was the woman whose involvement in the war had forced the Mermen to relocate their cities, whose Void abilities had frightened the superstitious Saurians into the deep Queensland jungle for two decades.

Now, Henry Kilroy was raising another Void Mage. Irene couldn't even begin to imagine the ramifications of that decision.

Irene was a Magister who believed in mutual co-existence with the Demi-human races. She wanted to see a world where man and the magical races were made equals, respected one another, engaged in open trade. She loathed the notion that Mages hid behind the Shield Walls and pretended those other races, whose age and existence far exceeded humanity, didn't exist.

Now she must entertain the possibility that Henry Kilroy could somehow reignite the Mageocracy's glorious past. What would happen when his Void Mage matured? Would Gwen Song bring about another renaissance of human dominion in the region? Would the tribal Demi-humans again fall to their knees in helpless worship of a power they could not resist nor repel?

More questions awaited her deliberation, but Irene had no more time to think.

The battle reached its climax and Irene saw her protege use yet another Polymorph to escape the Dark Tentacles. It was a good move; Julia deserved her title as a genius of the Transmutation school.

Then Irene saw it. When the vision came, she was astounded by its intensity.

It had been some time since she’d felt that familiar rush of crisis that played like a stop-motion montage before her mind's eye. After all, a Magister rarely ventured out to risk their skin. They had other Mages for that, and Irene was a capable administrator.

It was only a flash, but what Irene saw a horrid sight that knotted her guts and set her spine quivering with alarm.

Pale skin.

An alien swarm.

Void.

Tendrils.

Lamprey's mouth.

Shattered glass.

Blue eyes.

Blood and offal.

Irene had no idea what it meant, but she was confident that it had to do with the pale-skinned, blue-eyed girl before her. That was why she’d launched herself at the rails and demanded the cessation of combat.

Her grand-student, Julia, stopped. She transformed back and stared accusingly at her Grandmaster. Irene felt her blouse drenched in a cold sweat.

She turned to Henry Kilroy. The man must know; the damned old codger had to know.

"Henry," she said quietly, her mind lost for words. "What the hell did I just foresee?"

Henry Kilroy, Master of the Ten and head of the Ordo Arcanum Oceania, felt utterly vindicated. His student, Gwen Song, was enduring the Void Element, learning to abuse its strengths and circumvent its weaknesses. Furthermore, she had none of that paranoid insecurity that his wife had shown, no waking nightmares that he knew of, no fits of rage and destruction that required copious volumes of his life-force to sedate. No accidental diminishment of innocent life that were needed to feed an endless, voracious hunger.

At least, not yet.

Hopefully, with his guidance, Gwen would grow into a fine young sorceress, one that would bring hope and prosperity to the Frontier.

"If you must know," Irene's opponent raised a cup of mead to his lips and took a casual, languishing sip, "I must charge a price."

"What does the mighty Henry Kilroy desire?" Irene asked drily, licking her parched lips.

To her surprise, the underdressed Dryad passed her a wooden cup of the golden liquid. Irene couldn't help but notice a distinct similarity between the Dryad and Gwen, forcing her to raise an eyebrow.

"Thank you, dear," Irene replied politely, allowing the mead to touch her lips. She tasted the vitality brimming about the viscous liquid, shooting down her throat like a surge of wildfire. Though only for a moment, Irene felt a few years younger.

No wonder they call him Deathless Henry, she pondered. The man drank the manna of the gods like a clerk drinking cheap coffee. How much life did Henry have stored in that body? Irene couldn't begin to imagine what capabilities Henry hid underneath that decrepit visage of mild senility.

Henry continued. "I desire your dire confidence in exchange for information on the Void Element, as well as a token gift as an assurance for my future Apprentice."

"You're that confident in me, are you?" Irene scoffed.

"Should I not trust you?" Henry offered serenely. "Are we not colleagues?"

Irene sipped the mead but thought of her vision. It had felt so real. Had she averted disaster? If so, it would be a first. "I want to know what that thing is, Henry," Irene said seriously, thinking of her vision. She had to confirm the thing that she saw. Was Gwen the reason for that flashforward? If so, Irene might have to exercise extreme prejudice against Henry's Apprentice. It wasn't going to be pretty.

"Are we friends, Irene?" Henry said. "As a Diviner, what do you think of Gwen and her prospects?"

The man may have misunderstood her intense interest, but he wasn't about to let an advantage escape his grasp. Irene understood that, after Magister Walken's antagonism, Henry was offering the Grey Faction an olive branch. That way, he could gain something for Gwen, as well as resolve some of the tension their factions shared. After all, Gwen would likely be pivotal to Sydney's future. The Void sorceress could be their boon or she could be their bane.

It was best to pay up. Irene had to confirm if the girl was the second coming of Sobel. She slid something from her finger and tossed it towards Henry. Sufina caught the trinket before it reached her Master. She opened her palm carefully and presented the prize.

"Are you sure, Irene? Yours is a rare gift."

"I am not professing to be her enemy, not unless you're going to die anytime soon." She shrugged, relaxing her shoulders.

Henry chuckled. "I believe the cathedral has a confessional cloister, no? I shall bring Gwen there. We will need some privacy if you wish to see Gwen's Void Beast."

Irene nodded, the space on her right ring finger felt poignantly amiss. "Have you Apprenticed the girl yet?"

"What do you think?"

"Not publicly, though?"

"I shall, soon."

"I see."

Irene flew from the balcony, aided by Winged Boots under her robes, appearing as a vision of calm and authority. She drifted gently towards the Rosebay team. All the girls were crying, a few bawled, while others hung their heads in shame.

"Girls," Irene opened her arms, "don't be upset. You did your best."

Gwen's team embraced and hugged.

Watching his secret Apprentice, Henry felt such joy and delight that his complexion grew pink. Quietly, he coughed once, his old wounds stabbing like knives into his diaphragm. In the next moment, he was seized by a violent fit and it took his all to suppress the wrenching muscles rioting within his chest.

"Give this to Gwen, Sufina. Tell her to meet me in the cloister once she is finished. There is no rush. I need some time to recollect my old bones."

Sufina touched a wooden finger down the curvature of her Master's gaunt face, then she was away.

Gwen, meanwhile, was in a world filled with jubilation.

Teamwork!

Accomplishment!

Victory!

Yue pumped her fists in the air in a most un-ladylike manner, shouting the occasional obscenity to their mutual embarrassment. Elvia's face was plump full of apple-pink excitement, breathing heavily and excitedly through her cute button nose. Debora remained disbelieving that they had won, looking around with a dazed expression, savouring the moment. Only Whetu seemed like he'd expected it all along and was happy to stand grinning beside the huddle of girls giggling like a gaggle of geese.

Gwen watched Sufina lower herself via a tendril to the training grounds, striding upon her long, stilt-like legs towards the team before embracing her with such force that the wood creaked. "You've made Master very proud and very happy. Here, your reward." Sufina urged Gwen to open her palm. Gwen complied and was gifted yet another ring.

"Thanks, Sufi. You helped me a lot in training as well. This is as much your effort as it is ours. What's this?"

"From Magister Ferris." Sufina grinned suggestively. "She wanted to know more about you, and Master sold you for this ring."

Gwen made a face. The Dryad laughed. "Master says to take your time. He's going to have a rest."

Gwen returned her attention to the ring. "What does it do?" she asked, sizing the magical trinket on her right index finger.

"It's a Ring of Evasion," Sufina explained. "It has an enchantment carved into the Core of a Displacer Beast, which allows better survival against AoEs, sometimes."

"Sometimes?"

"Who knows?" Sufina shrugged. "They were pretty common in the war; all the high-level Maguses had one. It's a Diviner luck thing."

"Sufi's right," Alesia, the team's instructor, wrapped an arm around Gwen's shoulders. She flashed her dainty-looking hand, and Gwen noticed that three of Alesia's fingers possessed rings. "I’ve got one too; saved my ass more than a few times."

Gwen examined her new ring appreciatively before slipping it upon her right index finger, observing the band contract until it attained a snug fit. She didn't feel any different, seeing as the phenomenon was reactive.

"Gwen, join the huddle!" Yue urged.

It was embarrassing, but Gwen joined nonetheless. Even Alesia joined in.

"All for one!" Gwen tried again.

"For Blackwattle!"

"For Gwen!"

"To you guys!"

"Huzzah!"

Oh well, Gwen thought. Maybe she had to pen the story first. If so, she would have to adjust the context to fit the nature of her new world. In her story, Yue, Debora and Elvia would be Athos, Porthos and Aramis. For as D'Artagnan had changed his life by defeating Cardinal Richelieu's guards and wounding Jussac, so Gwen had now changed her life and the lives of her companions by entering into the Inter-High.

Gwen thought about what her Master had told her and pondered the road ahead. The victory was merely the crack in the door. Now, she had to wedge it open.

"Gwen!" Her mental celebration was interrupted by a pair of warm, moist hands that grasped her own. She looked up to see Debora, her eyes gleaming with emotion.

"Thank you, Gwen, for giving me this opportunity," Debora intoned. "I don't know what I would have done without you."

"You did your very best, Debs." Gwen hugged her. "You deserve everything."

Unexpectedly, they were joined by the Magister Irene Ferris, together with the representatives from Rosebay. "Girls, congratulations, you as well, Mr Taranga. Magus de Botton, it is good to see that you remain so lively."

"Magister." Alesia inclined her head, barely.

"Magister!" Gwen and the girls curtsied more meaningfully. Whetu likewise bowed smartly, bending his body to achieve the desired state of genuflection.

"A most astounding victory, Gwen Song. I had no idea Magister Kilroy had a trump card such as yourself, hidden so well."

"You jest, ma'am," Gwen replied formally. "I am a novice."

"Hardly. Anyway, as I am sure you know by now, these are the girls whom you have bested. They wish to exchange greetings with your team."

"It would be both an honour and a pleasure, ma'am." Gwen curtsied again.

The girls from the two schools exchanged handshakes. When Julia and Gwen passed one another, she felt the larger girl grip her hand, her eyes full of both conviction and tenacity. "I won't lose next time. I hope your future victories will bring greater glory to our re-match." Julia shook Gwen's hand with deliberate slowness.

"Sure thing, I'll be waiting," Gwen replied seriously.

"It was a good fight. I'll be watching you."

"As will I."

Meanwhile, the other girls were all making moon-eyes at Whetu, making him glower a shade of carmine over his mocha skin.

"Are those tattoos real?"

"What are your sizes? Your arms are massive!"

"Mmm, his legs are like tree trunks."

"Huge feet."

"You know what they say about huge feet."

"Shush! The Magister is right there…"

Irene Ferris fought back the unease that still haunted her Divination senses. Watching the youths exchange greetings and establish rivalries and friendships, she took the opportunity to examine Gwen up close to see if she could discern what made the girl so dangerous.

With great subtlety, she activated an array of Detection spells, indulging her eyes with a silently enabled True Sight.

She first scanned the Blackwattle students, noting the motes of mana cascading from the Evoker and the Transmuter. The Mineral Mage, Whetu, was an array of mixed elements, both Positive and Earthen. Beside the boy, De Botton was a fount of fire.

Gwen Song was an interesting exercise in itself. The girl had motes of mana that seemed to circulate her in oppositional pairs. Irene squinted. There was something else as well, a strange mix of primary elements that reminded her of Henry's Dryad, Sufina. Had Deathless Henry marked the girl already? That was no surprise, though. Irene would have done the same in his shoes.

Just as Irene was about to speak, she again felt her hair rise to a stand-still. Without warning, Irene's ocean-blue eyes clouded over with a faraway look as a vision took her.

Void.

Cathedral.

Mermen.

Panic.

Shatter.

Pain.

Despair.

Void.

Students.

"Ma'am?"

The Magister felt her consciousness return. The vision had consumed no more than a second.

"Ma'am?" Gwen Song was addressing her with a puzzled look.

"Gwen Song…" Irene tried to reply but became struck by yet another dire omen. She knew that her visions had a particular aspect to them; they only applied to a crisis that she was about to experience.

Any moment now, their present world would transform into a living hell.

A hundred questions assailed the Diviner. Why would the defeated Mermen assault the city now? How could they get past the Shield Wall? Was her vision a snapshot of a future foretold?

"Gwen Song…" Irene repeated herself, lost in her thoughts, watching Gwen patiently and politely awaiting her response.

Where was the danger? The visions hadn't involved the only two Mages who could challenge her here, Henry and Alesia.

Irene Ferris studied Gwen's face, noting with surprise that unlike when she had been in combat, her eyes were, in fact, a vividly striking amber-green.

"Aeeeeeeeargh! NO!"

A sudden shriek disrupted Irene's riotous train of thought. Beside the girls, Sufina fell to the floor and began to scream. As a Dryad, the Demi-human's soul-rending cry was a primal outpouring of ear-splitting agony.

Instantly, Sufina withered, her green bower limbs growing old and dry and her branches shedding its emerald cargo. The Dryad appeared to shrink at once, her stature diminishing immensely, transforming from a lithe doppelganger of Gwen into a sickly girl-child.

The girls around Irene seemed stunned by the sudden transformation. Irene, however, kicked her mind into overdrive. Had something or someone attacked Henry Kilroy? Who would dare attack the Deathless Magister of Oceania himself? What on earth could do so much damage to the most potent soul-linked Familiar Irene had ever known?

Her academic mind wanted answers. But her Divination had other ideas.

It told her to run.

Chapter thirty-four

When the Levee Breaks

Like most classic Edwardian designs, the cathedral's soaring frontage began with twin columns of stained glass split across two towers. Its adjacent buildings had come later, built along rectangular walkways with an elegantly arched gallery that ran the length of the back quadrangle. Together, the system of buildings formed a kind of abstract cross-section, linking the cathedral, the old convent, and the newer quarters for student and staff. In between the shadow of Rosebay's high walls and impressive pillars ran the cloister.

To access its pious serenity, one had to first venture through the property's side corridors before coming into the quad, an elegant garden adorned with a central water-feature of chubby cherubs at play.

Henry Kilroy, Master of Sydney Tower, quietly pushed through the entry and allowed himself into the sanctified space.

He had never been a religious man—the horrors of the Brisbane Line and the Coral Sea had made sure of that—but it didn't mean he couldn't feel the pietistic peace that resonated in places of worship such as these.

He walked along the arcade but didn't venture into the centre, where the garden stood. Satisfied that at this moment, in this place, there was peace enough for an old scarecrow.

The tranquillity allowed his beaten body a sense of restfulness. He no longer felt so fatigued by the many burdens strapped onto his war-wary back, gaining a little understanding of why some Mages could stomach the tedium of becoming a monastic scholar.

As he made the rounds through the gallery, he noted a door that was ajar from within which a warm light permeated.

Though it wasn't in his character to be a sticky-beak, Henry felt curiously drawn. Mayhap it was the mood of the place. Or perhaps, it was the triumph of his apprentice; Henry Kilroy hadn’t felt such invigoration in years.

Shuffling quietly, he moved into place as to avoid disturbing whoever was in prayer. In front of him was a shrine; a small one converted from what must have been a storeroom. Within, he saw the petite figure of a nun, a young one from the looks of it, kneeling before a Sacred-Heart altar.

A sense of déjà vu engendered, as delicate as gossamer.

There was something familiar about it the scene—a chamber lit by low candles, dozens of them, encompassing an intimate space that was flickering with haunting shadows. The altar itself was nothing unusual—a few candelabras with dribbling wax, a container of incense smoking quietly beside a statue of Mother Mary maternally offering the benediction. There was a sense of nostalgia, too; one that brought on an acute heartache.

Softly, Henry tapped the double-doors, wincing as the hinges groaned. "You came," a strangely familiar voice addressed his disturbance. It was the nun. "I waited an eternity."

"Do I know you?" Henry inquired, the timbre of his voice quivering with unbidden disbelief.

"Has it been that long?" came a reply both melodious and sultry. "It breaks my heart to hear that you have forgotten your dearest after only three decades."

The nun stood slowly, the loose habit falling about her small, petite figure. It hid the woman's figure well, but Henry would have recognised the silhouette anywhere, underneath anything. He knew that body all-too-intimately.

Henry wordlessly watched the unveiling of the spectacle before him. It was impossible, of course, that this might be happening. He'd seen the woman die, after all. Mark, who had hated her more than anything, had verified that there were no traces of her left.

There was no returning from the Void. Mark had verified it.

But then again, the neophyte Necromancer had also stated that he was wrong. Mark had told him that Elizabeth didn't respond to the summoning of the dead.

The nun slowly turned her face; Henry's breath quickened. First came the blue eyes, so blue they were the sky and the ocean, baby-blue, like lapis laid within sapphires, blue enough to make him ache. Then, that unforgettable face, the small button nose, the delicate English features, the elegant cheekbones, the well-framed chin, the curvature of her jaws. Her red lips, like a dash of vermillion, fresh as blood, bright as ruby against a complexion of pearl.

"Impossible. How?" Henry mouthed, his mind reeling with shock.

"Hello, Henry. Did you miss me?" the nun asked winningly, her lips blossoming as she spoke. There was a winsome quality to it all that stunned him. "Don't recognise your beloved anymore?"

"Elizabeth…"

Elizabeth ran her hand over her habit. To Henry's surprise, it fell away into nothing, as though the cotton was only a wisp rather than a piece of cloth. She was now resplendent in a white chiffon tulip dress, just as he remembered her, the last morning he'd kissed her goodbye as she’d ventured into the Hungarian town.

Henry swallowed as her voluminous dark hair fell about her head and shoulders, framing her lovely, heart-shaped face. "How can you…?"

"Be alive?"

"Be still so young…"

Elizabeth giggled; her laughter tinkled like a nightingale's trill. "Do you remember the vineyard, Henry? It was nice, wasn't it?"

"The vineyard… yes, it was nice," Henry choked, his voice trembling.

"It was our private paradise."

"Paradise… yes."

"Do you recall? What do you remember?"

What did he remember? Henry tried to think, but his mind felt as though smothered with wool. All thoughts of Gwen, of Sufina, of Irene, of Rosebay, fell away, replaced by faraway bedroom.

There was Elizabeth, asleep, buried in a tangled mass of soft pillows and white sheets. Her complexion was bloodless, her aristocratic veins blue against her flawless skin. She slept carelessly, a wayward sheet scandalously covering her body, her petite breasts forming the slightest of mounds. Henry savoured the moment, for here in one bed lay his whole wide world.

He smiled. Lizzie was right; those had been the happiest days of his life. What was his life now? Endless days of dealing with the petty politicking of the Tower, training an Apprentice that may one day usurp him, dealing with ingrates who disobeyed his orders and had the intelligence of a mallet. Moulding another Void Mage to show the world he was right? What an absurd idea.

He thought instead of the past, of those days after the war in Hungary. He could sense it now; he could feel it! He smelled her sweet scent upon his collar.

And there she was! Elizabeth, twirling in a white chiffon tulip dress that reached her knees. He felt overwhelmed with joy; his heart seized with happiness.

Unbidden, Elizabeth now languished on their bed, stretching as the white sheets slid from her torso. The bay windows were ajar and the careless wind lifted the curtains playfully. He blushed as his wife laughed, moving to close the drapes, her riotous tittering behind him as she pulled him back to bed.

In the next moment, Elizabeth greedily stabbed at a Presszókávé and Flódni. Henry smiled when his wife's small red mouth caked with crumbling bits of sweetness. Lizzie closed her eyes and savoured the taste. She looked like an angel.

Visions upon visions assailed Henry. He was drunk on the nostalgia, intoxicated with illusory happiness. He felt blissful at last. Happy enough that he could let go of the crisis of the moment. Glad enough that he hardly noticed the dark things slithering from the Quasi-Elemental Plane of the Void, birthing onto the floor wetly. As one, the creatures' lamprey mouth opened and closed, revealing barbed-teeth and curious, pink tongues.

The lamprey things coiled along Henry's body, attaching themselves here and there—to his arms and legs, to his neck, to his torso.

With a nod from their mistress, they began to feed.

"Gwen, do you know where Master has gone?" Alesia was shouting, her voice ringing with fury and alarm.

"Sufina said to meet him in the cloister behind the cathedral." Gwen couldn't make head nor tail of the chaos. The Dryad had been fine one moment then screaming and shrivelling the next.

"Stay here. I'll check it out!"

Before Gwen could say another word, Alesia uttered the incantation for Flight and launched herself into the air, making a beeline for the quadrangle.

"Be careful!" Gwen shouted at her sister-in-craft.

She turned her attention back towards Sufina, whose childlike form became visibly weaker, her bark-like skin crusty with old age, the few leaves that remained rapidly falling from the vines that made up her hair. Gwen knelt beside the Dryad and placed her hands upon the woodland being, wondering if she could somehow transfer the vital energy of the scale which she loved so dearly.

A dozen possibilities flitted through her mind. She didn't know much about Dryads, but she wasn't about to do nothing. "Elvia! I need positive channels now! Jody, you too, please! Any other healers? Please! We need your help!"

Elvia didn't question Gwen's command. She immediately dropped to one knee and began pumping Sufina full of vital energy. Jody looked at Julia, who nodded, and likewise began to channel a flood of positive mana into the Dryad.

Immediately, the healers knew that something was awry. "Arrrgh!" Elvia fell backwards, but her hand was still firmly attached to Sufina. "Gwen! Something's got me! It's draining us! I can't release the conduit!"

"Julia!" Jody screamed, "I can't let go!"

Both Gwen and Julia cursed and reached out to embrace their friend, physically pulling them away from the frozen and unmoving form of Sufina by tugging in opposite directions. The girls parted from the Dryad. Their bodies fell, akimbo with flailing limbs.

"Something is draining her vitality," Jody stuttered, weak with exhaustion.

"It's true." Elvia's complexion was like a laundered sheet. "It feels like when you're using my positive channelling to fuel your spells, but far hungrier and malicious."

Gwen gazed in the direction of the cathedral. She had to find Henry somehow. Sufina wasn't completely withered yet, and that meant her Master was alive. She just had to stop whatever was draining him, and by extension, Sufina. What was Alesia doing anyhow? Had she found Master yet?

She looked towards Magister Ferris, who still seemed paralysed by it all. The Magister appeared to be caught in a continuous vision, her mind not entirely in the present. She stared towards the ocean, towards the Shield Wall.

Gwen followed her gaze, feeling a knot tighten in her gut. She too was suddenly overcome with an ominous surge premonition. "Magister—" she began.

BOOM—CRACK!

An explosion in the distance drowned her appeal. There was a shimmer at the edge of the horizon, akin to the flash one saw when a bolt of lightning lit up the outback sky in silvered silhouettes.

Then an all-enveloping explosion rocked Sydney Harbour, sending out a rippling shockwave of white churning water.

BOOM—BOOM—BOOM!

Another and another, and another explosion rang out, a dozen in all.

The gathered host of schoolgirls stared at the horizon, unable to comprehend what was happening to their peaceful world. The Senior Mages all knew though, especially those who had survived the Coral Sea conflict. They'd seen it once before and had hoped never to see it again.

The Shield Barrier had collapsed.

Sydney was an open oyster.

Gunther Shultz stopped mid-sentence during his dressing-down of the Tower's new Acolytes. The Mages before him regarded their instructor quizzically, wondering why their austere preceptor had paused. They were all elites, graduates from the top-tier universities, ranging from Senior Mages skilled in their craft to young Magus coming into their power. By becoming members of the Tower, they gained access to its resource and knowledge, as well as the potential to be apprenticed under one of the Magisters.

"Whoa—"

An abrupt shudder shook the antechamber, sending a few of the Acolytes skittering across the atrium floor. Gunther furrowed his luxuriant brows, his instincts informing him that a catastrophe had just occurred.

DING! DING! DING!

A dozen Message spells struck him at once, blasting coloured Glyphs visible only to himself. He picked one from his assistant, an intelligent and humorous Diviner who showed great promise.

"Sir!" Ensign Carey's honeyed voice came across the message spell in a panic, lacking her usual finesse and control. "We just received an urgent Message from Station Forty-One at Watson Bay! Just now, an engineer reported an attack by an unknown party that sabotaged the Shielding Stone."

"What's the condition there now?" Gunther demanded with a measured voice brimming with suppressed emotion. Damaging a Shielding Station was a capital offence. What "human" in their right mind would sabotage a vital infrastructure that shielded the city? Sydney wasn't the Ivory Coast or the Silk Road, neither was Australia at war with its neighbours.

"It's chaos, sir! The explosion has caused a chain reaction along with the Watson-North Head enclosure! We are registering the total failure of over a dozen stations!"

"Get your division to link up with the Frontier military. I need all the available operational data in the next thirty minutes. Sound the coastal alarms on the entire Eastern seaboard. All Combat Mages tier III and over are to report to battle stations. Start evacuations immediately in the affected areas, tell the councils to start moving their NoMs to shelters and find me the Mage who called in; I need more information."

"Yes, sir!"

Gunther willed another Glyph to flare into activation; it was from the intelligence division's Oracle station. "Sir, I am getting pings from all over the Tasman Sea! The Mermen are mounting a major incursion! I am counting a dozen Krakens. There's even a Leviathan!"

Gunther cursed under his breath, wondering how the hell his world had gone to shit in a heartbeat.

The Acolytes in front of him each received their Messages and showed evident panic. A complete collapse of the Shield Barrier had not occurred for at least two decades, but the stories remained.

Ding! "Sir!" It was Carey, his assistant.

"I've found the Mage who was overseeing Station Forty-One. He has requested to speak with you. Shall I patch him through?"

"Do it."

There was the sound of a third voice joining the conversation. "This is Gunther Shultz, Paladin. Who am I speaking to?"

The voice that came through was smooth and controlled, not at all panicked and worried as Gunther would have expected. "So you're Gunther Shultz huh?"

"I am, who am I speaking with?"

"Morye Song, Regular Joe Abjurer, second class Engineer, Watson Bay. I’ve got a request for you, Mr Shultz."

Moyre Song? Gunther felt some distant memory at the back of his mind pinging. Why was the name so familiar? Where had he heard it before?

"I will grant you what I can, Mr Song, but first, you must let me know what the condition is over there. Where are these assailants, or might I say, terrorists?"

"Terrorists, huh? Close enough, I suppose. The Shielding Stone is busted, so I am afraid there's not much I can do about that. As for the baddies, well, they're dead."

Gunther felt as though this Moyre Song was tooling with his intelligence. Was the man a traitor trying to provide them with false information? That didn't make sense either. The Shield Barrier had fallen, the station was lost. What point was there in exposing himself? "How do you mean, Mr Song? You need to be more specific. Can you tell me what happened exactly?"

"Sure, but you need to grant my request first." The man must have felt confident that Gunther would comply.

"Fine, what do you want?"

"I need you to find the location of my two children, Percy Song and Gwen Song."

Carey interjected. "Don't be absurd, Mr Song. You can't expect Lord Gunther to bother with finding your children in a crisis like this. We have Mermen trying to breach the mainland for God's sake!"

"Ensign Carey. Do shut up." Gunther said. "Did you say Gwen Song?"

"Formerly of Forestville. She's currently attending Blackwattle Bay High School. If you can get your Divination boys to give me a location, I'd be more than happy to provide you with the low-down of what's happening here."

"How dare you—"

"Ensign—"

Carey stopped speaking at once.

"Go and check up on my orders. I need a sit-rep in the next few minutes. Also, go pull up a location on Percy Song. He's been filed already under Gwen Song's dossier. He should have his school's tracker with him."

"Yes, sir!"

Gunther turned his attention to Gwen's erstwhile father. Erstwhile, because he'd believed Gwen had cut off all contact with her old man. "Gwen Song is currently in Rosebay," Gunther informed the man. "She is there with Magister Henry Kilroy, undergoing a test. As for your son, give me the information first, as our Diviners will require some time."

"Fine," the voice that came through sounded relieved.

"I assure you, Gwen is perfectly safe with the Lord Magister. Now, please inform me of the events that lead to the collapse of the Shield Barrier."

"The assailants are mid-tier Mages, pretty well-trained. I suspect they're someone's private army, feels like the kind that the Houses keep as their reserve militia. They had an insider or had the right Glyph to access the door, who knows? But they got in unchallenged. They came in, spells blazing, killing every Mage they met until they got to the main chamber. They must have had some kind of magical device because they managed to breach the Warding Glyphs in about ten minutes flat. I suppose that's what's causing the reaction too because a whole daisy chain of resonating power just fed down the line."

"Where are they now?"

"They're dead," the voice said flatly.

"How?" Gunther demanded.

"Collective suicide," Moyre suggested cryptically. "Look, the point is, they had an inside man. Someone had given them the codes for the Glyphs shielding the Stone, and now we're all in deep shit. I am going to find my kids because there is nothing else I can do here, the city's toast and you should be calling in the Towers from Melbourne and whatnot. So where is my son?"

"Carey?"

"They've located a match for the boy. He is—"

The spell died. It had been blaring a moment ago, and then it was gone.

"Carey? Mr Song?" Gunther incanted his Message spell again. Nothing. His brows furrowed. What in the world could disrupt a Message spell? Unless…

From the looks of his Acolytes, their calls had likewise cut off.

The Paladin of Sydney felt a chill forming deep in his gut, running its way up through his spine with an unease he hadn't felt since the Coral Sea conflict.

"NOW ENTERING QUARANTINE MODE."

A female voice, synthetic in intonation, echoed through the Tower's internal communications systems.

"What?!"

"Quarantine?"

"Against what?"

"Lord Gunther?"

"What is happening?"

"What the fuck is going on?" Gunther let himself go. It was one surprise after another. Even he felt the dire need to express his mounting frustration and anger. Quarantine mode? That was only possible when Magical Creatures or foreign Mages breached the Tower. Even if the Mermen were on a Leviathan, it would take two to three hours before they were even remotely close enough to enter the city.

Gunther issued a command toward the Tower's autonomous Spirit systems, demanding that it explain the reason for its quarantine mode.

"Lord Shultz, your command privileges have been revoked. Prepare to be ejected from the Tower in sixty seconds."

"Shit!" Gunther could no longer maintain his cool in the face of mounting absurdity. "Does anyone have a working Message device?"

The Acolytes shook their heads.

How had his privileges been revoked? He was the fucking Paladin of the Tower! Its guardian! Only its Master could revoke the access. The only manner in which the Right of Command could be usurped would be if…

It couldn’t be, he told himself. That was impossible! His Master was Deathless Henry for a reason! He tried to Message his teacher, but the Divi-Towers were down entirely.

He tried to Message Alesia. Nothing.

He tried to Message Gwen, and likewise, there was no sign that his Message spell had manifested.

Someone had activated one of the Tower's most potent mechanisms—a Scry Jammer capable of nullifying Divination effects—and, by that measure, all communication spells. Once active, the jamming retarded the part of Sydney's communication infrastructure. The problem was, the powerful warding shouldn't affect allies like Gunther, who had the right Glyphs to nullify its effects.

That his Message jammed could only mean one thing. It meant that Gunther was no longer an “ally” of the Tower.

The faux daylight lighting of the tower suddenly died. A red haze took over the Mage's surroundings, cast by maliciously glowing mana Cores that were now a dull, hostile red.

"NON-ASSOCIATES OF THE TOWER WILL BE EJECTED IN THREE…"

Gunther swore. "Everyone, shield up! Everything you have!"

"TWO… "

"DO IT NOW! Don't question me if you want to live!"

"ONE…"

"USE FLIGHT! Feather Fall!"

There was a flash of silvery Conjuration Mana. Gunther and a few hundred others found themselves outside the Tower, in mid-air, and falling.

A host of scattered 'Feather Fall!" and "Fight!" resounded through the air.

There were a few brief screams, then Gunther saw too late that at least a dozen or more young Mages, guards and clerks had fallen from the great height, ending up on the cityscape below as bloody and broken stains.

The Tower loomed before them, floating in mid-air, half a kilometre from the ground.

The Tower was a floating fortress. That was the reason it was deemed so unassailable, so impenetrable. In its magnificence, his Master's abode was a brutalist fortress, resembling three bisecting rectangles stacked atop a floating island platform.

Having been ejected from it by force, Gunther and the other Mages were pushed away from the central structure by the repulsion field.

"Lord Gunther!" someone called.

"What do we do?"

"What the hell just happened?"

"I heard there are Mermen incoming?"

"What about the Shield Wall?"

"Fuck, I can't believe Timothy just fucking died!"

"Sir! We need orders!"

The descending Mages all called out to Gunther, but what could one man do without Message spells? They all believed that the infallible Lord Shultz had the answers, but Gunther knew he was just as confused and surprised as they. He wasn't a god, despite what the rumours suggested.

He regarded those who were flying and falling around him. Suddenly, an epiphany came to him. These Mages—they were all from the Middle-Path and the Militant Factions. Where were the Greys?

Magister Irene Ferris was the first to recover her senses. Immediately, she commanded the Rosebay girls to take shelter in the cathedral. The old building was a bastion that had once served as a sanctuary. In theory, it should weather whatever was coming their way far better than if they stayed in the open. If need be, Irene could also teleport them away somewhere safe, such as the Tower itself, which was impervious to invasion.

"Leave the Dryad, Go inside!" Ferris commanded Gwen and the girls, but the Blackwattle team refused to heed the Magister's command, choosing instead to stay with Sufina. When she commanded them again, and it was clear that Gwen was not leaving the field, the Diviner turned to orchestrate the evacuation instead.

"Shit! My Message spell doesn't work!" someone muttered beside them. "Magister, all long-range communications are down!"

Ferris tested her magic. "You're right, only line-of-sight communication still works. Someone's started the jammer."

She glanced skyward but couldn't see the Tower anywhere in sight. Had they been infiltrated by foreign Mages? That was an absurd and impossible notion. She had to get back to the Tower as soon as possible, but she didn't want to abandon the children here. They were her life's work! The future of Rosebay, of Oceania! She had a responsibility to their parents, who had entrusted her with their lives. "Forget it! Get the kids to safety! Go through the Catacombs! Get to the Teleportation Chambers. Four to a group!"

At once, the gathered Prefects and Mages mobilised, organising the young ones into orderly files that marched towards the cathedral and the shelter of its thick, enchanted walls.

"Gwen," she turned to Gwen seriously, "I don't know what's happened to Henry because the Tower is preventing me from using my Divination spells. That said, once the kids are safe, I am going to teleport myself and my staff into the Tower. Whatever happens, we need to take back control of it and shut off that Message jammer. Are you coming with us? We could use your help. Your Void abilities are essential for taking down physical barriers."

Gwen looked at Sufina, still fading fast, and nodded.

"Meet me down in the teleportation room. It uses the same system your group used to arrive but is located underground. Just follow my staff's directions."

"I need to find Alesia," Gwen mouthed, her eyes still lingering on the Dryad. "Sufi's suffering."

"Gwen, we need to go…" Yue said worriedly. The girl didn't want to leave Sufina either, but the situation was too dire for bravado.

Elvia was silent, still unable to comprehend what she was seeing, especially after the physical trauma of being drained by Sufina earlier.

Whetu looked at the open sea with a grim face, reliving some distant memory which Gwen needn't guess, given Auckland's history.

Debora appeared to have made up her mind. The girl pulled at Gwen's arm to try and make her budge. Looking at Debora's pleading eyes, however, Gwen felt suddenly struck by a recollection from the Outback.

She reached behind her neck and plucked at her Almudj's scale, willing it to remove itself.

"What are you doing?" Debora cried out sharply, stepping back with a look full of disbelief. "You're using THAT? Now of all times?"

Gwen ignored her and instead cupped the now diminutive Sufina in her arms, parting the withered vines extending from the back of her neck.

Please let this work! Gwen prayed to whoever ruled over this world of magic and Monsters, then placed the scale on the back of Sufina's neck. "Almudj, please help us!"

Chapter thirty-five

An Unexpected Encounter

Morye Song was supposed to have had the day off.

Now, he was lined up against the wall with his fellow engineers, prisoners awaiting their firing squad.

It had all begun when his current girlfriend, Yurin, one of two women he was seeing, suddenly demanded that he should meet her parents. The request meant that it was time to make a clean break, as things had progressed from harmless fun to quagmire.

The problem was that Yurin was one of those women with almond-brown puppy eyes that turned liquid when pleading for something, and Morye was weak, very weak, to the pleading of the fairer sex.

And so, he had traded his Wednesday shift for Thursday and had had to spend an awkward night being glared at by Yurin's parents, who were utterly surprised when he confessed cleanly to having two children and an ex-wife. Yurin may not have cared, but no one wanted their little girl to be the second, or in Morye's case, the hundredth fiddle.

Then it was Thursday, and all had been right with the world.

Morning shift at a Shielding Station was a quiet and tedious job, especially at a remote headland like Watson Bay. Greeting the dozen or so guards he'd known for years, He’d made his way into the belly of the beast. Within, a deep shaft a dozen metres wide held a levitating ultra-high-density Crystal six metres in diameter and about eight from tip to tip. Here was the heart of the Shielding Station that kept the city safe.

As an Abjurer, Morye's job was to monitor the hundreds of Glyphs that surrounded the Crystal, shaping its mana to create that unique resonance which made up the “barrier”—an oscillating wavelength of mana that passed between stations.

His place of employment, North Head and Watson Bay, made up the city's two principal stations. Here, the barrier was so strong as to form a shimmering white wall above and below the ocean and reaching the seabed, so penetrative as to be tangibly felt in the Astral Plane. What it accomplished was the repulsion of all creatures with Cores, causing discomfort, distress and ultimately destruction. The larger the beast, the more damage the resonance achieved, the more mana was consumed.

"Senior Engineer Song." his colleague had greeted him.

"Engineer Wenner," Morye had replied.

"How was your date?"

"With Yurin?"

"Yeah, the Korean one."

"As expected, angry old man, upset mother. I was half-expecting the old feller to duel me when I told them I had two kids."

"Aren't you an old man too, old man?" Wenner laughed.

"Oi, I am only forty! Besides, I am young at heart."

"Ha! You're certainly not living any longer if you don't tier up your Spellcraft. How’s your Abjuration?"

"You know me. I’d rather spend the night in the soft, white arms of a woman than the cold, hard pages of a textbook."

"Ah, come off it, Morye. You've been here for almost what, fifteen years? Come on, mate, we all know you can do better than senior engineer, I've seen your work."

"Too lazy!" Morye lamented dramatically. "Get promoted? It's just more work. I'd rather finish my calibrations in an hour and work on my naps."

Wenner shook his head in disbelief. "How're your kids these days?"

"Percy's with his mother, so I'd daresay he's suffering for it. Gwen's doing pretty well. Did I tell you? She's awakened to Lightning. She's got more potential in life than me, that's for sure."

"'Grats, mate! I still remember that time you brought her to the Christmas party. She must be a lovely young lady now."

"Interested? Your son's still a bachelor," Morye asked jovially.

"Damn straight he is. Yeah, nah, your girl's too good for him."

"Aw, come on Ed, don't say that, Sam's a good bloke."

"He's a regular Abjurer, low Water affinity. He'll be satisfied with a regular gal."

"They're just kids, Ed, who knows? Gwen needs someone to show her how normal people behave. She's too much like her mother sometimes, always on their high horse. It worries me sometimes."

Edward Wenner shook his head again. He'd seen some Lumen recordings of Gwen that Morye had gotten from his filthy-rich brother-in-law, doing her Lightning thing. The girl was heads above Sam's wildest dreams. Having the two of them meet up would just destroy the boy's self-esteem. Morye meant well, but then again, he usually pitched above his class. He dated girls in their twenties, he dated girls from NoM ghettos. He dated women who were older too, not caring even if they were Senior Mages or Magus.

Wenner was just about to say something when they heard the distinct sound of the middle barrier gate opening. The hydraulically controlled portal consisted of Glyph panels made from transmuted steel. The seamless metal always made a suction sound as they opened, making a silent entry impossible.

He checked his watch. "That's weird, George is not supposed to be here until fourteen-hundred. Reckon the guy cocked up his timetable? I'll go check."

Morye shrugged. Come hell or high water, he had a break to catch and a snooze quota to fill.

"ARRGH!"

A muffled scream echoed. Then silence. Morye twisted his lips.

Next came the sound of boots moving through the compound. Whoever had just accosted the guards was making their way down. Morye had just settled himself into a comfortable tub-chair when the door to the break room opened.

"Hands up!"

His feet on a stool and a cup of tea in hand, Morye regarded two Mages whose combat-robes shimmered with Mage Armour. They looked well-provisioned, each of the Mages had a bandolier full of potions, a wand by their sides, and minor Storage Rings on their fingers.

“Hands on your head! Move it!" the men commanded.

Morye complied unquestioningly. Unauthorised entry into a Shielding Station carried stiff penalties. These men, assuming they were there to loot or steal, appeared in their element. Why were they there? If he had to hazard a guess, he would imagine that they were pawns in the factional infighting that constantly accosted the Tower. When elephants fought, the grass was trampled. Maybe the men would do what they need to do and then leave. Morye hoped for the best or else there would be trouble.

When he made his way to the antechamber, all the engineers, Wenner included, were lined up against a wall. The director, McBride, was being questioned by a young man with what looked like mechanical, golem-like arms and legs.

"The encryption key—give it to me!" It was a laughable gesture, of course—engineers were bound by Geas to never reveal the Glyph keys.

Morye was puzzled. What had happened to the guards on the first level? Why were these men capable of entering the Shielding Station unmolested, but had no access to the Glyph for the device itself? Typically, the Tower issued both at the same time.

It could only mean that the individual who’d given out the code for the Shielding Station didn't have access to the Glyph. Morye thought about that and didn't much fancy the answer.

“STOP! I can't tell you even if I wanted to," the director begged.

With exaggeration and wanton cruelty, the one-legged fellow kicked and punched McBride, spittle flying this way and that. When the bloke tired of the sport, he straightened up and stretched out his golem-like limbs. "Let's do this the hard way then," the blonde announced.

The Mages behind the man were all dressed in grey-silver combat robes that were indistinct. There were six of them, all equally well-equipped. Morye could see blood on their boots. The blood, Morye supposed, explained at least some hint to where the guards had gone.

Was this a mercenary militia? They looked the part but were too disciplined. A Shielding Station wasn't anything special, but it did have stores of Crystals and other precious materials which would be more than enough to whet the appetite of a few greedy spells-for-hire.

That left only one other possibility—that these men were private soldiers born and bred in-house by some noble family or perhaps some transnational conglomeration corporation.

To Morye's surprise, the blond Mage was not only a Conjurer but was also an Enchanter! Not just a regular Enchanter either, but the worst kind. His element was highly unusual as well. Was it Ash? No. Ash was too rare. It was Dust.

Jesus, Morye stifled a whistle. When was the last time he had seen a Dust Mage? At any rate, they were in trouble. Mages who trafficked in forbidden spells and dangerous elements were not in the business of leaving witnesses.

While Morye was still pondering his options, the Station Master was screaming his lungs out. Blood drained from his wrists as the young man held a hand to his forehead. Motes of dust were moving in and out of the old Master's facial orifice, sending out spittles of blood and other bodily liquids through his nose, lips and eyes.

What a cruel little shit, Morye thought distastefully, wondering how he should deal with this dilemma without catalysing more drama for himself. Outright resistance was likely impossible for the moment, at least not with six guard dogs watching his every move.

In a minute, the talkable ringleader seemed to be done, letting the exhausted old man drop to the floor in a ragged heap. "Tell me what the Glyph code is," he asked carefully.

To Morye's surprise, the Station Master began to recite the sequence like a mantra. The poor sod was on his second repetition when the Geas must have triggered, for he began to bleed violently from his facial orifices. Ten seconds later, the man was dead.

"Chit!" The young man spat. He turned his attention to the rest of the engineers. "The rest of you, if you want to live, go to your stations and do what I tell you."

The remaining Abjurers regarded one another. They weren't heroes. But they knew the importance of a Shielding Station.

"Fuck you!" A middle-aged woman shouted defiantly. "I am not letting any of you go near that shield, you rapscallions!"

"Bess! No!"

"Shut up, Bess!"

"She didn't mean it, your eminences! She's just a foolish old woman, that's all," Wenner pleaded. "She doesn't even have access to the workstation."

Beatrice was their Transmuter. Her job was to repair the exterior as it grew weathered by the brine. She had a strong sense of justice but a limited grasp of common sense.

Morye wondered if he would regret not helping the poor woman. After all, he'd been to her house, attended a few luncheons with the rest of the staff. The mother of two was happy with her lot. She must have been thinking of her sons, still safe behind the barrier when she’d made that call.

"I am not fond of old women, but I am less fond of rudeness," the young man intoned. With a word, the Dust Mage moved his invisible Dust beast over to Beatrice. Then, he squeezed her like a lemon.

The rest of the staff watched as Beatrice suffered, whimpering and begging for death until all that remained of the once-vibrant mother was a dried husk that crumbled onto the floor with a clattering of fossilised flesh and bones.

"Disgusting," The young man scoffed, seemingly unsatisfied. "Any other volunteers?"

The rest of the staff moved to their stations, watched by the cowled Mages in their silver-grey robes.

With the Master's Glyph code, the young man manipulated the central control system of the station. He gave orders expertly, as though he knew exactly how each Glyph switch within the system worked.

THUMMMMM.

The central Crystal grew dull.

Morye watched as the Dust Mage approached, placing a hand upon the crystalline structure. There was a surge of violent mana, impressive both in volume and control. With a slight shimmer of space-time, the young man's Storage Ring consumed the stone.

To the staff's surprise, the Dust Mage raised his other hand and summoned another stone similar in size to replace it. This one was etched with Sigils and runes, covered from tip to tip with malevolent looking Glyph scripts. With some alarm, Morye realised that this was the stone that had been stolen from the Barrington Top Station some three months ago.

The others reacted too. They were all Abjurers and it instantly became evident what these men intended! What little naive hope they’d had of surviving the encounter faded away. Now, it was a fight to preserve both their lives AND the lives of those in the city.

"Stop them!"

"Chase them out!"

"Morye, help me!"

Instantly, shields of all kinds—stone, earth, water and pure mana erupted here and there, protecting their casters from the forces that sought to access their control consoles.

The problem was that they were all Abjurers. The guards who were supposed to be protecting them were all dead. The battle, if there ever was one, was over the moment these Mages had gained access to the lower chambers.

Morye too, erected his shield. Unlike the others, his barrier was a bright, comically pink series of jagged stone.

Outside, he heard the sound of spells clashing against his barrier, wondering how long his colleagues could keep up until help arrived.

If an Abjurer was to turtle up, they should be able to withstand the attacks for some time. With the correct sequence of Absorb Elements, Elemental Warding, and proper management of mana recycling, a prolonged hold-out was possible.

Tink—TINK-CRACK!

Chaos reigned as Morye carefully uttered the necessary meta-magics used to delay the spell he held in reserve. With each passing minute, however, the sound outside grew quieter, fainter and less pronounced.

Then the battle ceased altogether, and Morye knew that it would soon be his turn.

A Glyph bloomed in the dark of his rock-pink crystal shell. To this surprise, someone was Messaging him. "Hello?"

"Hey, it's me, Edgar, the one outside who just killed your friends."

“…yes?”

"Listen, I am not going to kill you."

"Oh, thank God."

"I need you, Mr Song. For a mission that is even more important than this one, at least to me. Do you mind if we talk face to face?"

"What choice do I have?"

Morye dispelled his shielding, the pink stones falling away until he revealed himself. Curiously, his fragments did not fade into motes of Earthen mana. Instead, the manifested shell of his Abjuration shield scattered on the floor, becoming crumbling pink-white particles that crunched underfoot.

In front of Morye was a massacre. Shit, Wenner. Morye felt the corner of his eye twitch. Poor Sam. The others were dead too. Some were burnt alive, others crushed, a few drained until they were just husks.

Morye had no benedictions to give. He was not a religious man.

The Dust Mage, whose name was Edgar, stood not far from Morye. Behind him, his followers were busy rigging up the Shielding Stone.

"You know, when I drained this little old feller here." Edgar swirled a few motes of dust around his good forefinger. "I caught an interesting piece of information in your work roster."

"Go on."

"You are the father of Gwen Song, no?"

Morye raised a brow in surprise. "Why does that matter?"

The Dust Mage, Edgar, took on a remarkably insane expression. His whole face grew contorted in a demonic mask, hideous with malevolence. The change was so drastic that for a moment, Morye questioned if the man had been taken over by some maleficent Spirit.

"Why does it matter?" Edgar ripped out a fistful of hair. "Why… why does it matter, the father says!" Edgar paced back and forth, unable to control himself. "Why does it matter indeed!"

Morye stared. It was an innocent question. He certainly hadn’t expected the man to lose his mind. Perhaps he should hazard a conjecture?

"Did Gwen… reject you at a cocktail party?" he asked dryly. That was the best postulation Morye could muster. He didn't think Gwen was the kind of girl to be hanging with psychopathic Mages, so the arsehole incarnate probably had spoken to her or something at some innocent social event. That he could believe. Gwen possessed her mother's talent for attracting attention, both good and bad, with her face and those legs. Not many young men could resist an aloof princess. That and young cocks like Edgar likely had a low tolerance for disgrace.

"A party? A fucking party?" Edgar tore at his robes to reveal the pallid flesh beneath.

"You're too skinny for Gwen's tastes." Morye sighed. Kids these days, so hot-headed.

"Shut the fuck up!" Edgar disrobed violently to reveal his clockwork limbs. He pulled at his face until the flesh bled, revealing what appeared to be tessellated mithril plating. "Your whore of a daughter gave me this! She took my fucking arm and leg! She took my face!"

Morye whistled impressively. "I take it you didn't listen when she told you no?" he quipped jovially. "You know, when a lady says no, they probably just mean no. It's an art to read the context, but if you're not sure, just stop."

Edgar looked like he wanted to rip out Morye's heart and eat it bloody and raw. "You think you're funny?" he demanded.

"I am known to be jocular, yes," Morye's mouth twisted with mirth. "Did you know I wasn't supposed to be working today? Imagine that, you came all this way and you could have missed me."

"I think death is too easy for you." Edgar's words had such poison in them that they spat from his lips toward Morye, who looked at the stains on his work uniform with wordless revulsion.

"I want you to know what I am going to do." Edgar seemed to calm himself. "I am going to saw off your arms and legs. Then, I am going to cut off your tongue, your cock and balls. You're going to be just a fleshy stump, wishing for death. Yet, you're not going to die. We're going to heal your wounds and make you suffer."

"Young man." Morye breathed out coldly. "You ever thought about seeing a Mind Mage about that attitude of yours?"

"You laugh now," Edgar continued, "but when I find your daughter, you know what I am going to do? I am going to show her your stumpy, miserable form, and then she will share your fate. I will cut off her long white legs, sever her arms, and strap her into a harness, like so…"

Morye watched as Edgar's expression changed from rage to lust, then to eye-rolling desire.

"You liked that? Good," Edgar continued eagerly. "You know what's next? She's going to bear my children, carry my bloodline. Her dual Void and Lighting ability, all her talents will belong to me. She's going to be nothing but a sow, a fertile little meat machine for my litter of Void Mages. Your scions, my slaves for the next hundred generations. How do you like that?"

"She's a Void Mage, you say?" Morye's surprise was wholly genuine. "Jesus Christ. Really?"

"You didn't know?" Now, it was Edgar who stared, his voice incredible with disbelief.

"Nope. We're not that close, you know, so I don't think I'll make a good hostage." Morye confessed.

"I'll be the judge of that," Edgar collected himself. "Now let's see what's in that head of yours."

Edgar placed a hand on his forehead. Morye felt the invisible dust conjuration moving behind him. Something held his wrists and ankles immobile with incredible force, effectively paralysing him.

"I am not looking for a son-in-law," Morye wryly declared. "Take your filthy mitts off my face, boy."

"SHUT UP!" his assailant howled in turn. "Submit your memories to me! Give—"

The Dust Mage's golem-limb fell limp. The rest of the Mages stopped to stare. There was a layer of white crystals now covering the joint, paralysing the clockwork.

"Flesh to Salt," Morye incanted without any significant emotion.

Without warning, the world turned white.

"Arrrgh!"

"My leg!"

"No! No! No!"

"I can't see!"

"Master! Save us!"

"It hurts! Aeeeeee!"

With the utterance of the last syllable of the invocation, Morye's hidden Transmutation activated. It fed upon trails of salt, so carelessly scattered previously, minute and seemingly a part of the dusty decor of the sandstone interior. Mercilessly, these enlivened motes of salt now adhered to his assailants, boring into flesh and bone.

Edgar's lackeys were encased in tombs of salt that covered every inch of their body, growing as the salt fed, becoming larger and denser. As crippling agony paralysed the Mages, the salt began its terrible work. In a moment, all moisture within the tender bodies of Morye's assailants was quickly extracted. Beside them, Morye stood impassive as a statue, hardly noticing the desiccation.

It took half a minute before the spell ran its course, transforming all organic matter into pink-white rocksalt.

"You know," Morye said softly to the young man now resting on his back. "In my culture, salt is used to ward away evil."

Edgar stumbled backwards, a spell already upon his lips. His mind was a mess of fumbling panic, the desire to escape defeating all rational thought.

He had to buy time to activate his Teleport. The station was done for—there was nothing this man could do to stop it now. The only miscarriage of their plans was the loss of his men, nothing more.

But why was Gwen's father a Salt Mage? Edgar's struggled to breathe, such was the pain wracking his body. Why was a minimum tier VI Transmuter Magus working as a low-level grunt in a Shielding Station?

None of that mattered now. He had to live to tell the tale.

For as long as he had lived, Edgar had only believed in his abilities and his singular survival. His Mistress might question him later, but what could he have done against a Salt Abjurer-Transmuter? The man had resisted his Absorb Memory earlier. How was that possible? Only specialist Military Mages from tier-one cities were trained to inoculate themselves against Mind Magic. But Sydney was a remote Frontier! Morye was supposed to be a low-tier barrier Mage!

Using his agony as a distraction, Edgar completed one of his best spells. "Cloud Kill!"

A mustard cloud sprang into existence surrounding the area where Morye stood. Yet, against all expectation, the acidic gas sizzled against Morye's salt-covered skin, ineffective against the self-replenishing barrier.

Edgar's eyes bulged against their sockets. He'd heard that salt was an extremely versatile element, supreme in defence and easy to manipulate, but this was absurd. What was the man's Affinity?

"Dusty! Get him away from me!" Edgar commanded, his golem's leg skittering against the sandstone floor.

With a roar, his Familiar charged, bringing with it bits of salt, paper and dust from the dead.

"Banish Evil!" his opponent incanted casually. True to his word, like an evil Spirit banished by a hand full of salt, Dusty ceased to be.

"You fucking banished my Familiar?"

Edgar was learning many new things today, such as that even in the Frontier, a spell existed which could force one's Familiar back into its pocket dimension. To summon his Familiar again required time, vitality, and mana, all of which he couldn't spare. Only Abjurers of the middle tiers possessed such spells, and only if they hailed from centres of magical study.

"You got anything else to say?" Morye asked casually. "I am not a patient guy."

"Plague of Insects!" Edgar desperately retaliated with another spell he had been proud of, summoning a dark swarm of stinging insects that would harass his victim and drain his vitality.

"Banish Evil!" Morye incanted, throwing out a fistful of salt in a stylistic flourish.

Again, the conjured creatures disappeared without a trace.

Edgar was on the verge of perturbed hysteria. He'd never faced someone like Morye before in his twenty-five years. As a scion of a noble house, he had seldom faced setbacks, save for his unfortunate encounter with Gwen. Now, at the hands of both father and daughter, he had tasted the bitterness of failure.

Half-wild, Edgar produced a scroll and began to read its contents, heedless of Morye's presence. "Telep—"

"Disintegrate!"

Edgar's mind flared white-hot. “Impossible! Impossible!” he screamed. Disintegrate was tier VI! How could there be a Mage capable of casting such a spell in so short a time here in Sydney?

A beam of white frost struck Edgar's golem's arm, turning it spontaneously into a pile of salt. Edgar dropped the Teleportation scroll mid-cast, the precious parchment falling into a crystalline pile as fresh and white as the fallen snow.

"Disintegrate," Morye repeated the spell. Edgar was left without a leg to stand on. He walked over towards the two-limbed man with an expression full of sympathy. "You know, I am curious to know who your parents are."

"If I told you, you wouldn't dare lay a finger on me!" Edgar screamed at him. "My father will skin you alive! Your kin shall be made into living specimens as future warnings!"

"Very scary," Morye intoned. "So who's your dad?"

Edgar remained silent, crawling on his remaining arm and leg. Morye watched with great interest as the kid produced yet another scroll from his ring. "Horrid Wi—"

"Disintegrate!"

Morye had to admit, he didn't have too many of those spells left in him. The third Disintegrate had also missed—Morye had intended it to strike the boy's remaining hand, but he’d taken the kid's limb off at the shoulder.

"ARRRRGH! B-bastard!"

"Sorry, it's been a decade. I am out of practice."

Edgar lay in a pile of his flesh-turned-salt, screaming the scream of the oppressed, the same one he had heard so many times before.

Morye picked up a ring from the pile of salt, collecting his ill-gotten loot. "Oh, my!" he muttered, impressed. With a few incantations, he dispelled the tracking feature. "Your father must surely be a scary man to give a brat like you a Contingency Teleportation Ring. One of these would keep me in style for the next ten years, you know."

Below, Edgar began to whimper. The salt was mixing into his wounds. The pain was exquisite, comparable to ten thousand insects nipping away at one's shoulder stump.

"Please, mercy…" Edgar begged, the boy's voice cracking. "My father…"

"Where have I heard that before?" Morye stoically regarded his quarry. "You know, I am not usually a man partial to anger, but when you started yapping on about Gwen, it put me off."

Morye raised a jackboot. The Engineer's outfits had steel-capped boots made to resist dense crystal drops.

"What… what are you…"

Morye stomped down, hard.

A wail echoed around the chamber, a soul-chilling vibrato that started as a bestial baritone and ultimately reached a castrato crescendo.

"Yeah, see, when you talk about other people's children, you have to be respectful." Morye patted his pockets and pulled out a packet of cheap cigarettes. "All that talk of rape, I mean, seriously? Who even taught you to speak that way? Are your parents inbred?"

"My… my… father will find you. He—" Edgar moaned wetly, squirming in a pool of blood and vomit.

Beside the duo, the corrupted crystal shuddered. Its resonance had corrupted the whole system, sending the surrounding stones and the station itself into a spiral of catastrophe.

"What are you guys trying to achieve, anyhow?" Morye lit up his cigarette.

"I am… a Ravenport! I can't die here. I am… Father…”

Edgar, or whatever his name was, finally laid still. Morye breathed out, watching the smoke coil and writhe.

Had any of the others sent off an SOS before their demise? Any fluctuations on the grid would be automatically sent to the Tower. What Edgar and his men had done here should have been visible on the smallest augur engine.

Beside Morye, the corrupted crystal hummed and groaned, reaching critical mass. Morye pulled out the Teleportation scroll Edgar had so kindly left behind.

"Thank Mao." Morye toked on his tobacco. "Imagine having to fly out of there."

With a flash of Conjuration, Morye found himself beside the Queen Victoria Memorial. He wasn't sure how trustworthy the scroll was and had thus selected a place that was familiar and public. A few Mages glanced at him and quickly nodded their heads in apology before rushing away. Anyone using a tier VII spell was above their station. The NoMs, however, gawked.

In the distance, there was a sound of something exploding on the ocean, first one, then a dozen. While the NoM crowds paused, then persisted in their menial labour, Morye could see a few of the Mages receiving Message spells, then beginning to panic.

With few more puffs, he finished his cigarette. Then he pulled out his message device and dialled in the classified Glyph for the Shield Station.

"Collective suicide." Morye didn't feel like explaining any more than necessary. He was already smearing enough shit on himself to last a lifetime. "Look, the point is, they had an inside man. Someone had given them the codes for the Glyphs shielding the stone, and now we're all in deep shit. I am going to find my kids because there is nothing else I can do here. The city's toast and we should be calling in the troop carriers. So, where is my son?"

"Carey?"

"They've located a match for the boy. He is—"

The spell died. It had been blaring a moment ago, and then it was gone.

"Gunther?" Morye spoke into thin air. The spell was dead. No, the whole fucking network had died. "Fuck."

Morye tried again. The Message spell was no longer functioning. He looked towards the sky, but the Tower wasn’t visible. Whatever was occurring, the magical fortress was not in combat mode.

"Rosebay, huh?" Morye mouthed to himself.

The city would fall; there would be no doubt about that. He had time, a few hours at least.

Morye thought about Edgar's gloat. Gwen—a Void Mage.

He rummaged for the cigarette packet and lit up another stick.

Inhale.

Exhale.

He wasn't even supposed to be working today.

Morye sighed the sigh of fathers everywhere when their daughters were out past ten and had yet to call. Like two decades before, Morye Song was at a crossroad.

Chapter thirty-six

Chain Reaction

The Saurian Conflict of the eighties had been the war that had orphaned Alesia de Botton. As a result, she had no recollections of her provincial parents, the family farm, or of her life pre-Awakening.

When she had been a girl, she had wondered if there were other surviving members of her bloodline. A few enquiries at the Tower's Divination section ensured her that there were none. The news was disappointing, but Alesia didn't mind. It was not the blood of the womb she desired, but the convent of camaraderie.

That, and Alesia had her Master, Henry Kilroy, who had guided her way and shielded her from trouble the day she had become his Apprentice. She had also found a new sibling—Gunther, on whose broad shoulders she could lean in times of turmoil. Lately, she had also found a younger sibling in Gwen, who was troubled and unsure, giving Alesia a sense of fulfilment in reciprocating the care that Master and Gunther had given her.

And now, someone was threatening her family. Alesia was blind with fury when she rode out on wings of flaming air. She reached the cloister in a matter of moments, inspecting the building for signs of her Master.

But there was nothing. No commotion, not a single indication of anything out of the ordinary.

Mayhap she could 'excavate' a bit of the building and flush the assailants out? Her heart was a taut bow, cutting a violin's string, pulling against her bosom with acidic anxiety.

She flew closer towards the building, testing the air with cinders. A few of her motes sizzled. As a veteran Combat Mage, she knew the signs all too well.

An illusion! There was a glamour covering the damned building!

Alesia did not possess any immediate means of dispelling the spell. She needed an Abjurer like Taj for that, but her assistant was too far from Rosebay to be of assistance. At any rate, only a specialist of near-equivalent tier could be of help.

On the other hand, there were many ways one could force an illusion, such as directly attacking the caster or destroying part of the illusion's foundation. Rosebay was a prestigious private school, full of nuns and schoolgirls, but Alesia had no time for hesitation.

She closed her eyes and willed herself to disbelieve the illusion. In her mind's eye, a Firestorm brewed, ready to be unleashed should she fail to pierce the veil.

An ear-splitting crash rocked the cathedral's stained windows.

BOOM! BO-BOOM! BOOM!

More far-away explosions bloomed on the horizon. A dozen others followed in quick succession, forming sonic booms that displaced the low-hanging clouds above.

Alesia turned her attention towards the source of the discordant clamour and felt her breath catch in her throat. The Shield Barrier! A semicircle ring of rippling whitewater churned where the ultramarine sky met the bean-green sea.

Comprehension dawned, bringing with it a mouthful of bile. Whatever was happening to those Shield Stations meant that she would be needed to repel the incoming forces of Mermen. It was unthinkable that those malicious fisheyes would forgo an opportunity as fortuitous as this.

Alesia felt torn. One half of her compelled to stay for her Master, the other half recognised the calamity to come. It assailed her so much that her skin crawled as though assaulted by a Mermen Bloodworm.

A dozen Message spells bloomed by her ear. Alesia allowed a few to connect.

"Alesia! It's Taj! The fucking Shield Station at Watson Bay just blew!"

"Yeah, I can see that."

"You can? Where are you now?"

"I am with Gwen and Paul at Rosebay."

"Thank God! Get down here. We're going to need you. If this is anything like the Coral Sea, we're going to get swarmed!"

"Alesia!" Paul's Message interjected with a hollow echo, indicating that he was indoors. "I am with Magister Ferris, I can teleport us closer towards the Shield Station or we can try to access the Tower through the Magister's Glyphs. What's your situation? You need to get down to the coastal fortifications!"

Alesia hovered, the words caught in her throat.

"Alesia!"

"Alesia! We need you to—"

"Alesia, where are—"

Her companions’ urging grated her ears. Alesia wanted to throw a Fireball into the message spell. No shit she needed to get down to the coastal batteries! But she couldn't go. How could she leave when her Master was still in danger? For reasons both public and personal, she had to make sure Henry was alright. The Tower could be without its Master. Besides, Gunther should be taking care of the city.

"Shut up, Taj! I can't fucking think!" Alesia snapped, screeching out her frustration. This fucking illusion!

Her Abjurer was taken aback by the vitriol in her voice. "Allie, what's happening on your end?" he inquired worryingly.

Alesia sighed. She had no idea what was happening. Chiding herself, she took a deep breath to calm her frayed nerves. "Something's happened to Lord Kilroy. He was attacked. I can't leave until I know that he is safe."

"Master Kilroy is…" Taj too, composed himself. "Will the Tower come to our aid?" he asked after a moment. Without the floating battle station pounding down the Leviathan and the Krakens, there was little hope that the military and the citizens' militia could hold the coastal line.

"I can't say," Alesia intoned with a voice burdened with frustration. "I'll join you as soon as I can."

"Alright, I'll try and contact the other Magisters. Good luck."

"Find the militia instead. There's just Walken and Ferris left in Sydney, and Ferris is here in Rosebay, trying to evacuate the kids. Get the militia to convince Walken to send the Tower over to the East Coast. Tell him that our Master will give his consent. Ferris should consent. If it's two against three, there's nothing Walken can do to stall."

No reply came.

Alesia stopped speaking. The last two orders she had dictated no longer had that resonating feeling of being converted into mana signals. "Taj?"

There was silence, not the quiet that indicated an absence of sound, but the static tinnitus of a Message spell that was feeding back upon itself.

Alesia shook her device and activated it again. The spell fired, but nothing happened. She felt a sliver of ice moving its way up her spine.

How could Message spells be disabled? That was impossible. The only way it could happen was if someone activated the Tower's Divination nullifier. That was itself beyond the boundaries of possibility, for the only her Master had the command Glyph. There were several conditions required for the key's ownership to change. Firstly, the city must be under siege, and secondly, the Master or the Tower must expire.

Alesia's breathing grew laboured.

Her eyes turned toward the buildings below. "Flames, heed my call…" She began to summon an Empowered Firestorm, a tier VII spell of mass destruction.

Alesia was confident that the caracal Spirit would take care of innocents caught in the blast and, if not, then she was willing to take all responsibility. The architecture should be able to withstand the flames, but as for any iconography or texts, they would have to be sacrificed for the greater good.

Gwen watched the shimmering scale on Sufina's neck. Her mythical object adhered without incident.

Immediately, she could feel the transfusion of vitality. An inch from her face, the shrivelled body of the Dryad shuddered like a drowned woman taking a renewed breath.

Sufina moved her limbs, making a sound of crackling bark as she lifted her head and opened her amber-clear eyes, now filled with darkness. "Elizabeth!" Sufina cried, her voice the cracking of hollowed trees. "She's alive!"

Gwen and the girls glanced toward one another with eyes that were full of alarm and disbelief. Debora, especially, grew white as a sheet.

"We have to help him!" Yue cried out, heedless of Sufina's explosive revelation. Elvia nodded beside her.

"No! We have to get away, as far as we can!" Debora said, her chest rising and falling irregularly.

"What the fuck are you on about?" Yue snapped at their ungrateful companion with incredulous loathing. "That's the Master of the Tower. My Grand Master. If something happens to him, we're all fucked!"

"Gwen, you tell them," Debora whimpered. "We can't stand up to Elizabeth. We're just students!"

"Who is Elizabeth?" Whetu was confused by the polemic reactions. "Whoa—!"

A flash of Conjuration mana surrounded Sufina, then the Dryad disappeared, either summoned to Henry's location or displaced back into her pocket dimension. Either way, it seemed that the scale had done something, and Henry was once again in control of his Spirit.

Gwen felt her chest tighten. She had to find her Master as soon as possible while also ensuring her friends were safe. "She's a Void Mage like me," she explained. "She's got an old grudge against Henry. She is a Combat Mage who is both insane and dangerous."

"Jeezus." Whetu swallowed. Gwen was already impressive enough; this Elizabeth sounded like a calamity.

"But Debora's right." Gwen felt her heart sinking and an acid-reflux rise in her throat. "You all need to go!"

Yue and Elvia regarded Gwen with surprise.

"This is the same Elizabeth you told us over Christmas?” Yue asked.

"The very same. There's nothing you can do," Gwen replied without hesitation. "Go find Magister Irene, go find Paul, they should be setting up Teleportation Circles in the catacombs. You all need to get out of here."

Gwen tried to Message Alesia again but her Message Device was showing up blank.

The girls, including Whetu, began to move towards the cathedral where hundreds of schoolgirls were heading. Yue stopped when they reached the cathedral gates, preventing Gwen from separating from the party. "And where do you think you're going?" she demanded.

"Yue, please just go. I need to find Magister Kilroy." Gwen knew they'd come to this junction. Her voice was begging for an outcome that she knew was unlikely.

Yue's face took on a grimace. "If you want us to remain as friends you'd shut up and let me follow."

"I am coming too!" Elvia was likewise putting up her best-unflustered face, even though her pale complexion suggested otherwise. Her small, white expression looked determined, her warm blue eyes committed.

"Me too." Whetu shrugged, grinning. "How can I call myself a warrior otherwise?"

There were a few seconds of hesitation, but Debora too stood in line with the others. "Anything for you."

"Guys…" It was a moving scene, of course, but they had little time for sentimentality. Gwen knew that every second counted and she wasn't about to waste it giving a speech.

"Thanks," she replied stoically; there was nothing more that needed to be said.

BA-BLAM!

Their moment of courage was short-lived. There was a sudden groaning as an unimaginable force smashed against the double doors. Then, in the next few moments, the wooden barrier erupted inwards a clang and threw them to the floor. Were it not for Whetu's instantaneous shielding, Gwen and the girls would have been blown away.

Gwen pushed the debris away, the clearing flames and smoke revealed the outline of Henry, Sufina and Alesia squaring off against the alien figure of a woman with the palest skin Gwen had ever seen.

The unadulterated force of primal nature coursed like a violent flood through Henry's body, dispelling the illusory Enchantment that had crippled his mind. His energy was of such purity that it instantly bloated the lamprey leech-like creatures attached to his body, forcing them to erupt into shadow and ichor. "Sufina!"

His Dryad manifested beside him with a flash of silver. Drawing upon the mana of her secret island Grot, Sufina expanded into a mass of lashing tendrils and cruel barbs that flared out in all directions, both shielding Henry and lashing Elizabeth. The sudden change caught the Void sorceress unaware; a dozen barbs lacerated her flawless skin before an oily Void shield consumed the tendrils digging into her flesh. Though Henry's summons lacked the draining abilities of the Void, the high-tier Dryad possessed a parasitic ability that was no less terrifying than lampreys.

Henry regarded the small woman before him, her skin flawless and as white as fresh snow, her lips a dash of red paint across two pressed slices of vibrant cherry. "Why?" He ached to know the truth. If the woman wanted revenge, she could have come after him anytime. She knew Henry well enough to understand that he was more than willing to face her alone if she had so desired.

"Does it matter?" Elizabeth replied in a voice that was alluring and nostalgic at once. "The Shield Wall is down. The Mermen are coming. Your city is doomed."

Henry appeared neither angry nor upset. "Lizzie, there is nothing to be afraid of, not anymore," he replied earnestly. "I am the Master of the Tower now. I can protect you. This place, Sydney, it's far from London."

Elizabeth's face took on an expression of pure mockery. "You're such a romantic, Henry. I loved that about you."

"You don't have to run anymore, Lizzy. I can help."

His breath caught when Elizabeth cocked her head demurely and fluttered her baby-blue eyes. She had done that in their youth. He recalled it as clearly as yesterday.

"Vortex!" His wife's answer manifested as a growing pinpoint of darkness that swallowed all light, expanding between them.

"Force Cage!" Henry's counterspell formed a glowing six-point cage around the darkness, isolating the vortex's power to engulf the space it encompassed.

His wife glared at him coldly.

"Lizzy, listen to me. Don't do this."

"It's too late, Henry. It was too late the moment I awoke to the Void element and you didn't stop me. I was naive like you once, but no more. I know what my Path is now, and you are an obstacle that I must cross to gain my place in the world."

"No, your path is destruction," Henry retorted bitterly, his voice desperate but growing stronger, his old skin becoming supple with vital energy. Beside him, Sufina had assumed her full-sized shambling form, a mass of cruel tendrils that tasted the air and menaced Elizabeth hungrily. "And after Sydney? What place can you go?"

"A place you could not even begin to understand." Elizabeth smiled secretly. "I would be happier if you opted to join me instead. Abandon your Tower. Abandon these useless NoMs and your mewling, bleeding-heart Mages. What do you say?"

"You know that's not possible." He gained an inkling of what Elizabeth was suggesting, and the thought was utterly insane. "Lizzy, you're mad!"

"From my perspective, it is you and your kind who are deranged and naive," Elizabeth retorted. "How long do you think you can hold back the tide? History waits for no one, not even the mighty Henry Kilroy."

Henry's breathing slowed. He noticed that neither were his Message spells going out nor were new ones coming in. The long-range Message system was down, and it could only mean one thing. "What have you done?!"

"Your ally, Magister Walken, is giving us a helping hand." Elizabeth giggled mockingly. "While you were out, he has helped himself to your little housing project."

"Lizzy!" Henry felt the anger in him rise with the bile in his throat. It was right that she harkened after him, it was okay if she wanted satisfaction, but only from him! The Tower, the city, all those innocents! Elizabeth would stop at nothing!

He knew now—Mark had said as much. He felt such disappointment that not even a sliver of the woman he’d loved remained. For so long, he had imagined that his wife was merely afraid, paranoid, incapable of controlling her desires, yet here was living proof that she had something far more significant in mind. What Henry had thought was self-preservation was merely the precursor to something more malignant.

"Morden's Blade." Elizabeth's invocations manifested far quicker than he recalled; a testament to the number of innocents she had Consumed. Beside her, an obsidian blade of Void matter formed in mid-air, hovering like a grim sentinel.

"Force of Nature!" With a grand gesture from Henry, Sufina became a tidal wave of tendrils that covered the floors and walls of the small shrine.

"Firestorm!" came the distant sound of a manifesting spell from outside the shrine.

B-BLAM!

Orange flames broke through into the intimate space of the shrine, turning the doors into flaming splinters.

"Master! Are you alright?" Alesia's flaming form appeared just outside, both hands radiant with marigold Mana Channelled from the Plane of Fire.

"So this is how it's going to be, husband?" Elizabeth demanded bitterly, as though she was in the midst of a family feud. "You’re going to gang up on me with another woman?"

It was the first time Alesia had seen Elizabeth, whom she had only heard from the stories.

"Allie. Focus!" Henry barked. "She's dangerous!"

"How dare you harm the Master!" Alesia recovered within the blink of an eye. "I am going to turn you into cinders, you ungrateful bitch!"

Elizabeth's face was full of loathing. "Is this the sort of personage you now socialise with, Henry?"

He didn’t respond to Elizabeth's taunts. Sensing a spell welling up within his Apprentice, he matched Alesia's cadence so that they could double-strike Elizabeth by sandwiching her between them. "Sufina!"

"Umbra Egg!"

A hundred tendrils lashed out at Elizabeth as a Void shield surrounded her. Likewise, the red beam of destructive energy launched from Alesia was consumed by that black mass without penetrating a single inch of its uncertain thickness.

Below Elizabeth, a mass of leech-like worms fell from her sphere of darkness and made for Henry and Alesia, their lamprey mouths opening to discharge their claw-tipped tongues.

"I don't believe it!" Henry marvelled, unable to forgo his unbidden academic curiosity. "She's got a Void-element Spirit!"

"Shit!" Alesia swore. "Fireball!"

The erupting flame took out a good chunk of the creatures, but the dripping mass continued to grow in strength.

Sufina's tendrils shot out and pierced the things, but many of them latched onto her vines, draining her vitality and causing her to scream maddeningly. Elizabeth had come prepared—Henry's rare and distinct element faired terribly against his wife's.

"Master, I'll take care of this! You need to retreat at once and go back to the Tower! The Mermen are coming! "Alesia warned.

"You can't handle her!" Henry's voice was coarse.

The mass of leech-creatures poured out the door, far too numerous for the two of them to deal with. If the Void spawn made it to the other Mages or the students, the damage would be incalculable.

Henry felt the leeches draining his mana. He could also sense the source of life that had awoken Sufina weakening, meaning that he would soon be back to his old decrepit self.

Maintaining their barrage, the two of them levitated just above the ground, out of reach of the maggot-like swarm of darkness that menaced them.

"She's feeding off Sufina," Henry cursed. "Alesia, give me a wide-range persistent AOE. Fill the quad with fire!"

Alesia nodded affirmatively and began a long chant.

A sliver of dark energy shot from the black sphere. The Void blade pierced through the air with a shrieking, bloodthirsty madness. Alesia blocked the first pass, but the returning strike easily penetrated her flame shield. Were it not for a well-timed tendril from Sufina, it would have eviscerated her. Thankfully, the experienced Combat Mage did not let a little near-death experience disrupt her spell. "Maximised Flame Burst!"

A torrent of flame descended from the sky, where an open portal to the Elemental Plane of Fire fed a blazing tornado into the quad, scorching the stones and setting fire to everything flammable. The grass instantly wilted, the fountain's water evaporating with such rapid expansion that the stonework exploded. The hot air generated from the spell was such that it blew into the windows and the doors, splintering the wood and setting fire to the remains. Within this raging inferno, only Henry and Alesia remained unscathed.

Alesia gritted her teeth as she channelled her mana, pouring everything she had into sustaining the spell and maintaining its destructive energy. Already the sandstone's surface was suffusing, sheets of materials falling away as the silica of its exterior began to melt and liquify.

Within, the dark creatures attached to Sufina were obliterated in an instant, eradicated by the cleansing flames of the Plane of Fire. After the initial impact, the radius of the spell began to decrease.

"Alesia! Master!" A familiar cry came from the obliterated double gate.

Alesia and Henry turned to see Gwen, Yue, and the rest of the team at the stone pillars.

"You little fools! Run!" Henry shouted at his youngest Apprentice.

As if sensing Henry's alarm, a black blade erupted from the dark oily film of Elizabeth's shield, this time flying toward the students.

"Shield!" Whetu instantly reacted by creating a multi-layered pounamu shield. Just as with Gwen's bolts, the blade's cutting edge was vorpal but had little penetrative power against his latticed structured green stone. It bit through the first few layers with ease, but perhaps because it had not expected an Abjurer used to Void Magic, the blade stopped an inch from Whetu's nose.

"Lightning Tentacles!" Gwen incanted her spell expertly, just as Henry had taught her.

A mass of blue-white tentacles appeared from thin air and began to lash Elizabeth's Void Shield mercilessly, ripping away chunks of dark, shell-like Void matter.

"Earth Spike!" Debora joined in.

"Flame Storm!" Yue cast her highest-tier spell, the tier IV variant of her Master's opus.

"Bless!" Elvia threw in her lot, doing what little she could, every bit of damage counted in a mass-melee. "Aid!"

Alesia kept her spell's epicentre concentrated on Elizabeth, the whole building heating up, cracking and groaning ominously.

Henry turned his attention back to Elizabeth. His students were too naive. Against a caster of her level, there was little a gang of low-level Mages could do.

"See you on the other side, hubby," Elizabeth's voice teased. There was a burst of darkness as she activated a volatile Teleport. Henry erected a sphere of tendrils to shield his students. "Sufina! Find her!"

Sufina's tendrils reacted faster than their mortal eyes, seeking out a space above them in the open air.

"Dark Rain!" Elizabeth's departure wasn't without a parting gift. A spray of ink cascaded down upon toward the quadrangle, consuming stone and flames with equal hunger.

"Whetu!" Gwen shouted. The main building shielded the students, but Alesia and Henry remained in the open.

"On it!"

A semi-circle of pounamu formed over Alesia and Henry's head, rapidly depleted by the ink-like spray of dark light from Elizabeth's hands. It wasn't enough to shield the pair but gave them enough time to activate Dimension Door and escape.

Sufina's tendrils formed a net that prevented the rest of the dark energy from reaching the group. Henry cautiously raised his head and saw Elizabeth floating in mid-air, a wisp of darkness about her white body. How was the woman capable of activating so much Void energy at once? Why didn’t she suffer from the lingering effects of life-drain?

He watched her lips move, incanting her next spell while Gwen and the girls were still flinging hapless spells at their assailant.

"Oh HELL!" He realised what Elizabeth was about to cast.

With a swift mental command, Henry lashed out with Sufina's tendrils and pulled his students towards him. "MAXIMISED Force Cage!"

When used defensively, this spell was capable of negating most AOE spell effects. Forming a rectangular Glyph with his hands, Henry encased the lot of them in his Force Cage, just as Elizabeth's coup de grâce descended. Sufina leapt back into her pocket dimension.

In the chaos of magical energies, Gwen's scale fell to the ground half-buried in the rubble. "Blade Barrier!" Dark arcs consisting of bible-black blades materialised from thin air and whipped into the Force Cage with the force of a thresher-engine, leaving inky streaks of darkness across its invisible panes.

"Master! Are you alright?" Gwen and Alesia both turned to Henry, whose face was ashen and pale.

Henry knew that the stored energy within Gwen's scale was at its limit. The vitality taken from it to refuel Sufina and empower him in his moment of weakness had proved to be too much even for the vital energy stored within the scale of a mythic-class Magical Creature.

Henry watched the Blade Barrier and its Void-like energies whipping away at his Force Cage. There was little they could do until the spell was over. Thankfully, there was little Elizabeth could do against them as well. His cage was far too robust to be destroyed by Disintegrate, and it was immune to Dispel Magic.

"Gwen, Alesia, thank you for your assistance." He leaned his battered body upon the shoulders of the two girls. When he spoke again, he was breathless with fatigue. "We must make haste to the Tower. It is vital for the defence of the city. Where is Gunther?"

"He should be in the Tower," Alesia replied. "I don't know why, but the Divination Jammer is cutting all our long-range communication."

"Walken." Henry took a second to recompose himself, his eyes forming two thin slits. "I don't know what he's up to, but he must in control of the Tower's operative systems."

"Can we teleport in?" Alesia inquired worriedly.

Henry nodded.

Around them, the Blade Barrier was coming down. When the mayhem of dark blades finally ran its course, they were in a courtyard with a battered cloister that was barely held together by century-old architectural ingenuity. The garden was either utterly wilted or otherwise violently tossed and uprooted. Deep gouges were cut into the stoneworks, as though a mining engine had rampaged through them.

"Detect Magic." His Apprentice felt no desire to hide her abilities at a time like this. She was the only Diviner here, and she could either keep pretending to be clueless or be of actual use.

"I think we're clear, Master." She observed. "I don't feel any Void manifestations near us."

The others turned to face Gwen with eyes that were full of questions.

"Not now, guys." She felt the shimmering panes of force fade around them. She knelt, moving her slender fingers across the pavement, brushing aside the crushed and broken rubble until she found the scale. Thankfully, it was still intact. Its shimmering hue, however, was no more. "Master, shall we go?"

Henry nodded weakly. He no longer had the energy to speak.

"We'll go to the cathedral and find Ferris. She can use her native Divination abilities to empower the portal to the Tower." Alesia said.

"Won't that put us in more danger?" Gwen inquired. "Doesn't this Walken have control of the Tower right now?"

"Master?" Alesia turned to Henry.

Their Master shook his head. "Not while I am alive. Walken may have gotten into the nucleus, but all the auxiliary Glyphs remain slaved to me and all the surviving Magisters."

As the girls lacked the strength, Whetu volunteered his back, and they helped Henry onto the gigantic young man's shoulders.

"I'll be sure to thank your Master properly… if we survive this," Henry remarked to the Maori youth.

"Sweet ass, Magister, no worries," Whetu said. "I at your service."

"Can we trust Ferris, Master?" Alesia asked with a frown.

"She'll make the right choices, don't you worry," Henry assured her. "I don't know what Walken is up to, but it is our goal to disable him and limit his access. Not to mention that we'll need Ferris to even access the Tower at this point."

"Grand Master, what can we do to help?" Yue made a sharp salute. "We'll follow you anywhere, sir, if it means saving the city."

Henry surveyed the students before him. They would meet up with Ferris and her team, half-a-dozen Maguses, a dozen Senior Mages, and a capable team of young Mages like Gwen. Would it be enough to take down Walken from inside the Tower? Henry considered their options. If they played their cards right, they could probably just make it.

BWAAAAH— BAWAAAAH— A long siren split across the school's courtyard.

"Fuck!" Alesia gnashed her teeth. "We’ve got incoming!"

"Master?" Gwen turned to the old Magister, but Henry was barely holding onto consciousness.

"Defend the school children. Find Ferris…" he spoke softly, his breath enfeebled and his voice a whisper. “Keep them safe!”

Gwen and the gathered crew turned to face the coast. There was a crested wave a dozen metres in height rapidly approaching from the sea. She had no idea what it was; nor did any of the girls. Whetu had seen it before though, and Alesia knew the sight all too well.

"Shit!" she cursed. "I should have known that stupid bitch wouldn't have just retreated."

"We up shit creek without a paddle, hey?" Whetu noted expertly.

"What is that thing?" The others shuddered at the incredible sight of a six-storey todal wave.

“Christ…” Gwen could not believe seeing something like this would happen in the protective confines of the city itself.

"That—" Alesia waved her hand across the ground. An assortment of battle garbs, bandoleers of potions, and single-use scrolls littered the floor. "—is a Siege Breaker Kraken, and from the looks of it, it knows where it's headed."

"Headed here?" Gwen asked.

To her dismay, the answer was self-evident.

Chapter thirty-seven

The Breaking Wave

“Team seven and team nine, set up a defensive line at Darling Point. Teams twelve and eighteen, join up with the Militia at Point Piper. Team four, rest up while team eleven takes up Flight and Defence buffs."

Gunther barked out orders to the remaining Tower Mages even as the rising tsunami rolled toward the city.

The Evacuation Siren had gone out almost an hour ago, but the city was a hot mess thanks to the jamming of long-range communications. Likewise, without the Tower's mass Teleportation Circles, the movement of Mages throughout the city had come to a standstill.

"Team eight, pull back!" A swell of frustration trampled Gunther's patience.

Even with a hundred or so Tower Mages, there was no way for the city to be defended without the fortress hovering above, retrieving casualties and sending out fresh combatants. All Gunther could do was try to slow the advance of the Mermen, hoping that someone else—his Master, Magister Ferris or perhaps Alesia, managed to access the magical fortress and wrestle back its controls.

The tide receded, giving the impression of a man drawing back for a king punch. The magically-generated tsunami was not as powerful as one created by natural forces, but it would be enough to sink the city.

The Paladin observed the city from his vantage point. The Leviathan was likely going to make landfall near Elizabeth Bay, using its momentum to penetrate the heart of the business district. Once the crustacean-cum-whale made landfall, its shells would erupt to reveal landing pods filled with malicious Mermen, their tridents ready to taste human flesh.

One on one, a NoM had no chance against a Merman warrior, not even the fish-headed Scum Suckers. A low-tier Evoker, however, could take a dozen Mermen, assuming the Mage was sufficiently shielded and protected by his allies.

In Sydney, the Militia drew Mages from all walks of life. In Mage-affluent areas like Double Bay or Elizabeth Bay, there was everything from retired Maguses to entire families of mid-tier Mages. Conversely, should the Mermen penetrate NoM affluent areas like Surry Hills or Redfern, they would have little to no contest in “harvesting” the spoils of war.

Decades before during the Coral Sea Conflict, Gunther had questioned a captured Mermen Prince when they’d raided human settlements. The answers he had received from the bulb-headed Cephalopod were surprisingly mundane.

Humans encroached on the Mermen's waters.

Humans ate their young and hunted them.

Humans desecrated the holy sea.

In short, the Mermen fought a Holy War.

Later, when Gunther had taken on the position of Paladin, he had been informed that the Mermen were not one Clan, but hundreds of ocean-dwelling races. For the Mermen kings, warring on humans was a way to unite the races, much in the same manner that Dark Age humanity had once avoided total war in Europe by organising crusades against the demi-humans of the Middle East.

Gunther watched his teams spread throughout the harbour, taking up positions and stringing together rag-tag bands of militiamen and women emerging from the offices and the seaside suburbs. These areas were supposed to be the safest zones in Sydney, protected by the largest, most robust Shielding Stations. Presently, however, they were the first line of defence.

A few kilometres out, the wave was now breaking, revealing the skyscraper spines of the Leviathan. From afar, the creature's carapace glinted magnificently in the afternoon sun, vibrant with its coral hills and crevasses. The entire Leviathan, when fully unearthed, stretched out to about four football fields. From head to tail, the pea-brained relative of the dragon whale measured close to a kilometre.

Gunther couldn't imagine how such a creature could be fed and kept in captivity, and yet the Mermen had tamed them. Each time a significant offensive was mounted upon a human city, one of these creatures was dredged from the deep sea and brought to bear; powering through humanity's defences by dumb, brute force. Once out of the water, the creature would inevitably die from its crushing weight, but before its violent demise, it would wreak havoc upon the defender's city.

Gunther clicked his tongue distastefully and began to focus his mind. The Radiant Magus produced a diamond as large as a quail's egg in one hand, then filled it with Radiant mana. Beneath his feet, layered Glyphs appeared, forming into an elaborate Mandala. Closing his eyes and switching to his Astral senses, Gunther concentrated his will until he could feel every facet of the masterful diamond within his cognisance.

"Focusing Array!" The Paladin of Sydney released the first layer of the Mandala. The spell formed into a convex illusion that bent his powerful Radiant energy into a single point. A second layer of the illusion allowed for the adjustment of his Radiant Strike's range, while a third layer magnified its radius.

Within a second, Gunther's Ritual Magic consumed the priceless Asscher diamond— an offering to the Radiant beings that made their home in the Quasi-elemental Plane of Fire and Positive Energy. Grunting, Gunther shook the dust from his hands, taking a deep breath to dispel the spell-fatigue. As soon as the Leviathan struck the shallows, its head would rear. That was the window he needed.

From up on high, the low, grey clouds parted.

A retina-searing beam of unadulterated Radiance, bright as a second sun and just as hot, shot from the heavens. It caught the Leviathan just as its armoured head emerged from the wave—a neckless, triangular thing with a dozen eyes the size of sedans, five storeys in height, protruding from its bulbous, blubbery body.

Upon initial impact, there was a roaring hiss, as though the surface of the Leviathan's carapace had become a sizzling hot plate, sending chunks of coral and shellfish to fall from its ancient surface. A split-second later, the beam adjusted itself, becoming a thin line that concentrated the all-consuming flame of the Quasi-Elemental Plane of Radiance tenfold.

A sickening crunch came from the fore of the Leviathan. It was the sound of carapace popping and erupting as the superheated flesh violently erupted, rebelling against the body it was supposed to protect.

Gunther panted. His Radiant Beam persisted for a few more moments, then dimmed and died. The sea that had been held back sloshed into the bay. The Radiant blast from the heavens had pierced the head of the Leviathan, decimating its flesh and armour.

The Leviathan's neck was a bubbling mess of wet flesh and steaming seawater where Gunther's strategic array had struck. The gaping cranial wound sizzled, oozing enough slime to fill a lake. The Mythic's enormous body, which had been so vital a moment prior, was slack and inanimate. On its sides, the Leviathan's claw-flippers no longer propelled it forward. Having lost the driving force of its mountainous musculature, only its momentum compelled it to crash ahead, dredging the seafloor as it shovelled in.

Thankfully, the incline was now too steep to keep pushing its body; it ground to a ponderous halt, betrayed by the weight of its own body.

Alesia inwardly groaned.

A bloody Kraken had latched onto the sea cliffs overlooking Rosebay and was unloading its cargo of Mermen. The tentacles of the damned thing were enormous, flinging pods of shellfish that crashed into the cathedral and its surroundings, tumbling and skittering into hapless Mages who were too slow to flee from their path. Unfortunately for the defenders, they did not possess Magi-tech Engines or War Golems capable of repelling such barbaric tactics.

A six-storey tall squid assaulted the cathedral fortress in the most primal manner possible—with uncalculated brute force. Having attached itself to the escarpment, the cunning creature had a tossing range far exceeding the defenders’ mean to retaliate.

The surrounding Mages scattered here and there, only to realise that the damned shellfish landing amongst them were oysters that opened to reveal disorientated Mermen baying for Mage flesh.

Alesia took it upon herself to hold down the Kraken, chugging down three pots of Mana potions to top up her reserves. She was already drained from the battle with Elizabeth and saw no reason to preserve her potion cool-down, not when a cephalopod was raining down Mermen from the heavens.

The rest of the students, the seniors and the Mages formed a battle line with Ferris atop the cathedral. The Abjurers had already activated the monastery fortress’s defences, fortifying its walls and creating a localised defence shield that warded away elemental attacks.

Their ration of mana Cores, however, was woefully undersupplied. Since the creation of the Shield Stations meant that the immediate threats against coastal regions were non-existent, few of the existing fortresses of old kept stockpiles on hand.

With every oyster that struck the reinforced sandstone, the Rosebay's century-old cathedral shuddered, sending up a wave of screams and squeals from the younger girls sheltered within.

Gwen and her company’s job was to hunt down Mermen who were flung into the courtyard and the cathedral's interior. Unlike new fortifications which used adaptive Shielding, the old fortress lacked hard barriers.

Gwen's Lightning element finally showed its true colours against these rubbery-skinned, hard-shelled monsters. Dressed in an armoured battle robe that stank of blood, sweat, and fish and sporting a full bandoleer of mana and health potions, she summoned Ariel, her Warding Orbs, Morden's Hound, Lightning Tentacles and her Conjured Storm all at once. Each time a group of creatures accosted the lithe Lightning sorceress, a cascade of azure electricity flooded forth, leaving no quarter. As she fought, her body filled with vigour supplied by her companions—Bless and Aid from Elvia and Resistant Elements and Protection from Projectiles from Whetu.

When a car-sized oyster bounced off the sandstone walls and landed beside them, Gwen's convergence of Lightning struck it with such blazing power that all the occupants perished before they could exit.

"Jesus, I am going to be sick!" Yue made a gagging motion as the oyster spewed a mess of mangled carapace and rubbery flesh.

That was the boon of the Lightning element in a fight against Monsters. Apart from its paralysing effects, electricity had the additional effect of ignoring the natural armour of the creatures. Yue's flames favoured soft rather than hard-shelled targets.

Debora acted as the girls’ bodyguard, smashing apart the fish-headed Mermen that tried to disrupt their spells, cracking open the shells of lobster and crab-men alike.

Whetu and Elvia played defence, as the other teams lacked Abjurers and healers. They helped the Rosebay girls, who did their best to clear the cloister and the surrounding areas so that the younger students could be safely evacuated into the catacombs. There, waiting in the dimly lit passageways, they could await teleportation into the shelter of the Tower.

"Lightning Bolt!" Gwen incanted again, watching a line of electricity take down three Mermen at once, one of the prawns' heads popping like an overripe melon.

"Gwen, watch out!" Debora was squaring off against a heavily-armoured Merman in the guise of a king crab, wielding its massive claw as a shield as it menaced her friend. The Transmuter tried several times to penetrate its shield with Ground Spike, to no avail.

"Debbie! To me!" Gwen called.

As the Merman pursued, an invisible hound emerged from the aether and struck the creature's Core, its electrical fangs tearing at its carapace. Unfortunately, even paralysed, the resistance of the monster proved too much for a novice like Gwen. "Caliban, take care of it!"

"Shaa! Shaa!"

Caliban likewise, proved a mighty boon. Possessing the ability to negate hard armour, it launched itself from Gwen's shadow and latched onto the terrified crab-man via its chitin-devouring lamprey's maw.

"I got you!" Elvia shot Gwen a charge of positively-charged mana as Caliban closed the gap between itself and a crab shock trooper. The crab-man chittered indistinctly as Caliban burrowed in with a gluttonous tenacity, emerging a moment later with a Core which it swallowed hungrily.

Gwen felt her vitality restore a little. Between Elvia and Caliban, she could probably keep the wee beastie going for a while yet. The problem was that Caliban was only a single nightmarish creature from the horrors of the Void, where everywhere they were inundated by slavering Mermen.

How was Alesia doing? Gwen's mind turned to her friend and sister-in-craft. As long as the Kraken lived, there would be endless cohorts of these mindless Mermen hellbent on trying to harvest their Mage flesh.

Alesia's frustration ignited the air.

Half-a-dozen Mermen Priests were riding atop the Kraken and flinging a fusillade of spells at her even before she approached within a hundred metres. Ice Spears, Blizzards, Water Bolts, Jet Blasts, it took every ounce of Alesia's combat intuition to duck and weave without turning into a pincushion for watery projectiles.

She attempted a riposte but was half a second too slow. An Ice Bolt skimmed her and activated her reactive shield. "Arrgh. Fuck!"

She knew what the cursed fish-heads were trying to do. They were trying to incapacitate her so that she would be easy prey for a boulder toss from the Kraken or the Mermen below. In turn, she wanted nothing more than to throw them a sweet little Delayed Blast Fireball or perhaps initiate a Blade Barrier, but the damn spells were limited in range.

Never in her life had she been lead by nose by monsters, and yet, here she was, struggling to get within range. Again and again, she tried to penetrate their barrage, but each time she was beaten back.

"Damn pieces of amphibian shit!" Alesia willed her flame to burn hotter. If Taj was there, he could have tanked their feeble spells while she readied an invocation of mass destruction.

Just as she was wondering if she should just risk her skin and Blink in, a Message spell bloomed close to her ear.

"Magus de Botton!" a voice called out.

Alesia felt her heart soar. Was the Message System back in service? She tried to activate her Device, but still, the Message failed.

"This is Ferris!" the voice spoke again. "I am using my Divination to communicate with you."

"I need help!" Alesia confessed. She didn't want the Grey Faction's aid, but they had to get rid of the Kraken somehow. There was no way Ferris would agree to use her key to teleport them into the Tower when the children were not yet safe. "Help me take care of this thing and we can all get to the Tower!"

"That's precisely what I had in mind." Ferris' voice was commanding and assured. "I still have two hundred kids in here. The cathedral is not going to hold out once the main swarm gets here."

"What can you do?" Alesia demanded.

"I am going to create a diversion!"

Alesia felt the air around her shimmer.

First, there were two, then three, then four of her, all realistic and identical in every way. She touched one and was surprised to find that the false Alesia had a flesh-and-blood body.

"It's a Mirrored Simulacrum," Ferris explained. "They're going to be the distraction. I am going to glamour you with Advanced Invisibility, but it will dispel if you use high-tier spells. Is that enough for you to get close?"

"It'll do." Alesia grinned, assuring the Magister confidently. "They won't know what hit ’em."

"Right, here goes!"

There was a glimmer, then the light around Alesia displaced itself, masking her presence.

"Good hunting!" Ferris' Message winked out.

Alesia needed no luck. She was her Master's enchanted hammer of chastisement. Once the Kraken was down, they could enter the Tower and seek out Walken. With the Tower restored, they could repel the tide of Mermen, and all would be well. She circulated her flaming mana, readying her body for the carnage to follow.

Already the Simulacrums were moving in rapidly, cutting across the air expertly with the same grace and dexterity that Alesia herself possessed. They even flung low-level incantations like Fireballs as they dodged and waved through the spells and tentacles.

Alesia materialised a ruby-laden dagger in one hand—an exotic blade with sinuous designs of engraved flames that was unlikely to be of terrestrial origin. Its handle and pommel were encrusted with rubies the size of pigeon eggs, priceless jewels by any measure.

Her breathing slowed. The price of power was high. "O Efreet, Spirit of Flames, heed my call…"

A Glyph appeared beneath her feet, three circles bisecting to form a triplicate Mandala, spinning faster and faster until it created a direct channel into the Elemental Plane of Fire. The air around Alesia instantly ignited, purifying the mortal cloth that clung to her skin. The spectacle lasted only half a second for, in the next moment, the channelled heat from the Elemental Plane of Fire was drawn into her body.

The dagger bit into the palm of her hand. Her blood was magma, and her eyes two golden suns.

She was now flame-clad—a sensuous Djinn native to the land of primal fire, whose bellowing hair billowed out behind her to form a swarm of buzzing firefly embers.

"Alrighty then, you fish-faced fucks," she muttered vehemently, glaring at the Kraken. In her Efreeti form, all who challenged her should be wary, for here stood the Scarlet Sorceress—she who ate foes like air.

Chapter thirty-eight

The Devil’s Advocate

Aminiature sun dawned upon Rosebay, lighting up half the firmament with a second star. A kilometre away, within the confines of the cathedral, Gwen and her company felt the elevation of the ambient temperature.

There was a screech that sounded like it came from a creature that was half-shrieking parrot, half-maddened boar. It reverberated through the brine-heavy space, followed by the sound of tumbling stones in the distance which indicated that a portion of the cliff had dislodged from the escarpment.

The Mermen paused in their relentless assault, allowing Gwen to let loose an additional spell. "Lightning Bolt!"

A wave of fatigue encompassed her mind as her bolt zigzagged through the stonework, exploding two burly crustacean Mermen bearing down upon a trio of Acolytes.

"I am almost out of mana," she informed the others. Her head was throbbing, an indication of spell fatigue.

"I am alright; about two-thirds spent," Yue replied as she shot off a pair of Scorching Rays.

"How's everyone else?" Gwen wasn't OoM in the explicit sense, but her remaining reservoir was for passive Conjurations.

"I am about half," Whetu announced.

"Same here," Elvia said.

"I am close to OoM." As a melee combatant, Debora was the most exhausted of them all. With a groan, she straightened, wiping a snail sheen of sweat from her brow. "I really ought to train for Polymorph as soon as this is over."

In response to the explosions coming from the cliffside, a change overcame their foe. They seemed to lose the fervour that had consumed them only a moment before. Instead, the fish-headed warriors beat a retreat, shielded by their crustacean cousins.

"Think the Kraken's down?" Yue tossed a Fireball into the group of Mermen trying to organise themselves into a semblance of a phalanx. The well-armoured crab-men weathered the brunt of the damage as the Fireball erupted, leaving behind a trivial pair of smoking carcasses. Seeing the lacklustre outcome, Yue clicked her tongue.

As if in reply, an enraged, bellowing howl emerged from the multitude of fins and shells. From the horde emerged a blubbery, bulbous monstrosity covered in viscous slime. It had a set of ruby red dorsal fins that protruded from its head, giving it the guise of a Roman centurion. The thing roared a challenge towards the girls.

"Scorcher!" To Yue's surprise, her spell was stopped dead in its tracks by the creature's slimy exterior. The blubbery Merman battered away the flames by expertly shedding a layer of its bubbling, superheated slime. It roared at them triumphantly, spittle flying every which way before turning to charge the group.

Stimulated by the warrior's courage, the Mermen following the centurion ceased their rout and moved towards the Mages, turning the phalanx like a school of roving sardines.

Yue cursed under her breath. "Gwen, you got enough oomph to take care of this?"

"Evee, keep me topped." Gwen formed the Sigil for a Void incantation in her mind. The Mermen should be within the range of her spell soon.

"Okay!" Elvia began a Positive Energy channel.

The slimy Merman centurion had gained momentum, its quarter-ton bulk of muscle and slime bearing down upon Gwen and the group of juniors behind her. If the creature entered Melee range, Lord knew how many of the kids it would take down before they peppered it with enough spells to dispatch it. Worse still, its martyrdom could bolster the morale of other Mermen in the area, further complicating what should be a clean rout back to sea.

"Black Tentacles!"

As the centurion gave a triumphant cry, a mass of dark, rubbery tentacles erupted from midair and snagged its hulking form. The cessation of its forward momentum put it off balance. Unlike physical appendages that slipped and slid from its slime armour, the Void tendrils ignored its protective gelatine, digging into the creature's flesh like verdurous roots searching for nourishment.

The blubbery Merman howled—a primal, guttural gurgle, then began to writhe violently as the tentacles began their terrible, life-draining labour. The Mermen who had changed direction to follow it screeched to a grinding halt, their fish-faces full of fear.

Gwen decided to give the throng another push. "Caliban!"

Drawing life from Elvia, she pushed the last of her mana into her Familiar, feeling her vitality ebbing away as the serpentine nether creature took on its combat form.

Caliban grew bulbous and humongous, a full two metres tall, its carapace splitting the smooth obsidian shell to reveal pulsating masses of purple-pink flesh. With a hiss, her Void Beast coiled then lunged forward. It fell upon the struggling Merman, its lamprey's mouth latching onto the hulking morsel.

With a sound like a man busily slurping soup, Caliban's mouth expanded and took the Mermen headfirst into its bottomless gullet. The whole spectacle took several agonising seconds. The Merman's maddening shrieks only ceased when its flippers finally disappeared into the dark abyss that was Caliban's maw.

"Shaa! Shaa! Hiss!" Caliban turned towards the rest of the Mermen, its lamprey's mouth hungry for more, its pink throat ready to launch a volley of barbed tongues that would retrieve more morsels for its insatiable hunger.

The remaining Mermen fled.

"Ha!" Gwen was physically exhausted but still raised her fist triumphantly. She turned to regard her allies, expecting a humorous quip or a witty observation. Instead, she found them sick with horror and ripe with revulsion. The Rosebay juniors had retreated from her as though she was a Mermen herself, forming a semi-circle around Gwen's party that unquestionably suggested they wanted no association with her and her aberrant ilk.

Wordlessly, Gwen retracted the unspent mana from Caliban, watching it return to its usual form. Ariel joined Caliban a moment later, performing figure-eights around her slim ankles.

"I don't think we'll ever get used to that." Yue scratched her nose as she caught the terrified expressions on the faces of the Rosebay Mages. "Cali is a fucking horror show all on its own. Does wonders to morale on both sides."

"I don't mind the critter at all," Whetu retorted, sniggering. "Ai rather like the little feller. We could have used a few of ’em when the Mirmin landed in Tauranga."

Meanwhile, Elvia restored as much of Gwen's vital energy as she could, although it was only useful as a stop-gap measure. Gwen needed to eat and rest to make up for the drain on her body. Grunting, Gwen wondered how Elizabeth kept up her vitality. She had been pumping out spell after spell of mass destruction without so much as a breather.

"You guys right? Need to rest?" A Rosebay Prefect—a lass with auburn hair tied into a knotted ponytail—inquired carefully, keeping her distance from Gwen.

"We need to see Magister Ferris," Gwen informed her, "as soon as Magus Alesia has returned from dealing with the Kraken."

The auburn-haired Mage nodded at them and directed them away from the frontlines. Gwen withdrew her Familiars and urged the others to follow. The group had been fighting for a solid half an hour. After the last exchange, Gwen, Yue and Debora were out of mana.

Whetu and Elvia, who had some mana remaining, elected to stay. There weren’t nearly enough healers or Abjurers, and they couldn't afford to leave the Rosebay Mages fighting by themselves.

The trio retreated into the cathedral, where most of the older girls had sheltered under the bishop's quarters, awaiting their turn to descend the narrow stairs that led into the catacombs. The younger girls had gone first and were waiting for teleportation in the safer confines of the old underground sanctuary.

As soon as the guards had cleared them, Gwen hastened back to find her Master guarded by several Maguses and Senior Mages, reclining, exhausted, upon a pew.

"He's getting weaker. Healing spells and restorations both failed to improve his condition," one of the Tower Maguses informed Gwen. "Do you know what he needs?"

She shook her head. Her Master needed his Golden Mead, though without Sufina active, there was nothing they could do.

Seated uncomfortably in the pew, Henry waved a hand weakly at his youngest Apprentice, beckoning her to come closer. Sufina remained manifested beside him, but she was unresponsive and still, her body skinny and brittle, all the leaves upon her head withered and yellow.

"My Lord?" Gwen kept her supplication formalised as her Apprenticeship was yet to be formalised.

"The… Grot…" Henry murmured a little breathlessly. "Inform Irene, I need to return to the Grot, to gain control of the Tower…"

Gwen nodded and squeezed her Master's hand. The man seemed indomitable; to see him so diminished broke her heart.

"Where's Magister Ferris?" she asked one of the older Mages who was ticking off a chart as the Rosebay survivors shuffled into the underground. Much to her dismay, she noted that with every dozen or so names, a red strike indicated a fallen Mage.

"She's by the atrium, directing the evacuation," came the concerned reply.

WHAM!

The double doors swung violently open. Alesia entered in her Efreet form, making a beeline for Ferris. In the dimness, her Efreet-body lit up the cathedral. The younger Mages below made a circular space for her as her halo of firefly embers landed with an intrusive hiss, scorching the scarlet carpet below.

"The Kraken's gone," she said flatly with the same tone as one might announce that they’d done the dishes.

A cheer broke out in the cathedral, performed with conservative enthusiasm. The girls knew that although their immediate danger was resolved, Rosebay wasn't out of the rip just yet.

Alesia gave Ferris a quick rundown of the situation outside. Once the Kraken was gone, the Mermen had lost their advantage. Without endless swarms of reinforcements, they would only serve as seafood for the Mages.

The flames that torched Alesia began to dim, transforming from white-hot to blue, then finally to a spluttering ochre.

Gwen materialised a robe and approached Alesia, who expectantly snuffed out her Efreet form, exposing her pale, trembling body. Her sister-in-craft was wounded in several places, bleeding profusely from a cut to her right shoulder and thigh. A developing bruise covered her right lumbar, extending from her navel to her breast and shoulder.

The gathering of neophytes was both awed with gratitude and stunned by her injury. Alesia was none other than the hero of the Coral Sea War, the one and the only Scarlet Sorceress. To see her sister so battered in the flesh stunned them all.

"You're hurt!" Gwen intoned worriedly, materialising a healing potion she had received from Alesia earlier.

Alesia took the robe and wrapped it around her body nonchalantly. She tore off the injector's tip with her teeth and slammed it into her thighs, shuddering as the rapid healing restored her broken flesh. "Here, got a souvenir for you."

Her sister-in-craft made a flicking motion with her wrist. A dozen heads appeared at Ferris's footsteps, ranging from a long-nosed swordfish to the bulbous, carapaced head of a Mahi-Mahi. The largest of the spoils was an octopus-like creature that was now entirely deformed. From the grey matter oozing from its burst eye sockets, one could believe that the beast had been incredibly intelligent while it was alive.

"That's their Arch-Priest." Alesia nodded at Ferris. "The Kraken's half-cooked and floating belly-up in the bay. We should be good for our retreat."

Magister Irene Ferris did not allow the shock of her mind to register on her face. Though her Divination-empowered intuition had told her that Alesia de Botton was fully capable of taking down a battalion of Mermen mounted on a Siege Kraken, the reality remained awe-inspiring. No wonder the old men in the Tower lowered their voices when speaking of the sorceress. No wonder Walken had decided to take the slap in the face when de Botton had burned down his library. Alesia may not be able to control utility magic, create powerful items, or participate in advanced theoretical research, but the woman was a walking engine of mass destruction.

“Can Henry continue?” The Diviner asked. If there was a way to salvage their crisis, it was to have Henry re-assume control of the Tower and reactivate the Message network by disabling the jamming ritual.

"He is weakened and needs to return to the Grot," it was Gwen who replied. Beside her, Alesia materialised a body suit and quickly dressed, heedless of the hundred or so eyes watching her. "Only by returning Master Kilroy to the Tower's Grot can we hope to regain control of the Tower."

"Is he lucid?"

"A little, but he is far from hale."

"This is troubling. What solutions did Master Kilroy offer for returning to the Tower in the first place?"

"That we aid you and your students, Magister," Gwen replied. "And when the school is safe, we may seek passage together into the Tower via your unique key."

Ferris knitted her brows. "Would the Tower even be safe? If the Disruptor wasn't on, I could probably tell you more, but all the information we have on hand suggests Walken has taken over the core systems. I doubt he would give it up peacefully."

"Then this Walken of yours is a traitor," Alesia said, her voice full of disdain. "If and when we enter the Tower, we'll have to take care of him."

"Eric, a traitor?" Ferris momentarily lost her composure but couldn't refute the reality that her precious academy was now suffering. "I suppose the circumstances speak for themselves," she observed dryly. "Give me a moment."

Gwen and Alesia waited on Ferris while the battle outside began to reach its final stages. By now, the Mages should be pushing the Mermen over the cliff's edge and back into the ocean.

The quiet was interrupted by a Senior Mage who hurriedly entered the cathedral and sought Ferris' attention.

"Yes, Sandra?" Ferris said.

"Mistress, the Mermen are in full retreat… for now. We don't know if there are more coming. The Scrying Stations and Divi-Towers are still down."

"I see. Thank you, Sandra. Please organise a headcount. Recover the bodies of the fallen, if you are able."

"Yes, ma'am!"

The girls watched Sandra retreat. Two guards opened the giant double doors of the cathedral, and the Mage disappeared into the light-flooded gap.

"This is not going to end unless we recover the Tower," Alesia persisted. "Look around you, Irene, is this where you want to hole up and wait until reinforcements show up? Where would they even come from? New Zealand? Brisbane? We don't even know if those cities are safe themselves. How likely do you think they would bring their Tower to recover ours?" Her voice echoed across the cathedral, amplified by the acoustics of its vaulted architecture.

Irene Ferris regarded her surroundings. Wounded Mages, both girls from the school and its staff, leaned against pews, lying down with white faces twisted in agony. The younger girls had pallors as pale as sheets and watched their surroundings with terrified, confused eyes. Near the dais, a few dozen girls were fervently praying below a benevolent statue of Mother Mary, begging her to deliver them from this crisis.

Ferris had said that she wanted a moment to think, but she was genuinely lost for thought. She was not a Magister who’d risen to prominence due to accolades achieved through the two conflicts in the seventies and eighties. She was the newer breed of geniuses who’d risen to distinction through their contribution to the study of Spellcraft and their ability to provide essential goods and services. The warmongers jokingly called Magisters like Ferris the “cherry” Magisters; a derogative term that denigrated those who attained their title through academia.

Ferris had always thought those old fools idiotic and useless, out of date and senile. Now she understood that in the face of real danger, she was of little use. She couldn't strategise a theatre of war. She couldn't organise her Mages into flight teams for combat formations. If Alesia de Botton had not been here, could they have taken out the Kraken? She shuddered at the thought, thinking of the price they would have had to pay to achieve the same result.

If Lin was there, or perhaps Gilford from the Cairns Tower, they could have ridden out with Alesia and carved a path of blood from the cathedral to the CBD. With the Divination jammer active, Ferris felt embarrassingly useless. But she was a Magister nonetheless. She couldn't show her vulnerable face to the proteges of her great rival.

With a hardened heart, she swallowed the feeling of insecurity and guilt. She took a moment to look around the century-old cathedral, seeking solace in the stained-glass figures of the saints mounted around her.

The powers of Divination were not almighty.

Fate was an insurmountable tree, but the branches of fortune did not grow without careful watering and meticulous pruning. The fruit it bore only ripened for those who were willing to risk scaling its precarious height.

A commotion rippled across the cathedral's interior. Irene looked up to see Henry, supported carefully by Whetu, slowly tottering towards them.

"My Lord, you need to rest!" Both Gwen and Alesia immediately left Irene and went to Henry, helping him find a space between the body-ridden pews.

"Magister Ferris, my protege is right. I am afraid there is no more recourse. We must find a way to recover the Tower." Henry was a little restored by his rest but remained pale and weary.

"What more can you tell me?" Irene said.

Henry delivered a quick synopsis of Elizabeth's agenda, explaining that though her ultimate goal was unknowable, the discredit of the Tower system and the integration of Mage and NoM populations would be high on their assailant's list of objectives.

“If this.. continues, the casualties for the NoM areas will be catastrophic…” Henry again lapsed into a fit of coughing, but there was nothing to be done.

The group turned to regard Ferris, awaiting her final decision.

Ferris measured the circumstances before her and knew that what Henry had suggested was the best outcome. Without the Tower, they could not repel the Mermen. Without repelling the Mermen, they could not rebuild the Shield Barrier. Without the Barrier, there would be no end to this conflict. The Mermen could afford to lose a hundred thousand or even a million merfolk. Sydney could not. The city contained four million souls, of which a few hundred thousand were Mages.

Then again, Henry and Irene were in opposing factions. The old man had more than once obstructed their Grey Market operations, arrested her men and uprooted the seedlings she had sown. Could she trust that she was doing the right thing and not merely playing into yet another of Henry's long cons? She hated making uninformed decisions, especially without any aid from Augury or Divination. What if Walken took the opportunity to act on behalf of the Grey faction?

"What of your Paladin, Mr Shultz?" Ferris asked carefully. "Should he not be the one responsible for putting down insurrections?"

"Gunther should have been in the Tower when it all went down," Alesia interjected on her Master's behalf. "If he is not currently fighting for his life or defending the city…"

The Scarlet Sorceress left the rest unsaid.

A thunderous cacophony sounded, so loud it was heard within the confines of the cathedral. All other sound was drowned out as a riptide of colliding mana rolled across the heavens.

The double doors slammed open and a group of girl Mages stumbled into the atrium with eyes lit with wonder.

"Master!"

"Magister Ferris!"

Ferris waited until they were closer before allowing them to speak.

"It was incredible! The Leviathan was pushing towards the city centre and then suddenly, a giant beam of light blasted through the sky and took its head clean off! The water in the bay area is flooding back. I don't think the Leviathan can make it into the city itself!"

A wary cheer rose from those recovering in the cathedral.

"That's Gunther for you," Henry said weakly, his expression bursting with pride.

"Well, there are still over ten-thousand Mermen in that Leviathan," Alesia reminded them. "Not to mention Wave Riders, Dragon Turtles and countless critters hidden in the water itself. We need you to make a call right now, Magister, else I am heading to the frontlines to meet up with Gunther."

Ferris gritted her teeth and surveyed the hopeful eyes of those around her. Even though the incursion had just been blunted, there would be no rest, no cessation to the conflict until the Mermen were pushed back. The only possibility of achieving that goal in its entirety was to regain control of the Tower. "If we enter the Tower, you are confident you can handle Walken?”

"Yes," Alesia replied without blinking. "His element is borrowed Lightning, even with his expertise in Transmutation and Conjuration or what not, he shouldn't be a problem."

“What about his men?"

"Gwen and her team should be able to handle the occasional Acolyte. If you are willing to lend us a hand, it will make our assault doubly sure."

Ferris turned to face her followers, the progenies of Rosebay Private Girls Academy. There were a few Maguses with them still and a dozen Senior Mages.

"We are at your command!" The gathering knelt and placed hands upon the rose crest sewn into their uniforms, their shrill feminine voices firm with commitment.

Ferris turned back to Alesia, standing protectively over Henry, who was resting on the pew. The Diviner felt trapped. What was worse, she knew that each minute she persisted in her deliberation was a minute measured in human lives.

"Magister Ferris, if I may have a moment to speak?" It was Gwen.

"You may." Ferris considered the Eurasian girl in front of her. The Void Mageling had limitless potential, and Ferris wanted to see it carefully developed. After all, it was the highest directive of the Tower to ensure that the best bloodlines were preserved. An arbitrator with a colder heart would have suggested that perhaps only a dozen casters in Rosebay, possessing unmatched talent, truly needed to survive the city's ordeal. Everything else could be rebuilt. Even the school itself could be restored within a generation, but if these young talents were lost, then catastrophe would befall the Mageocracy.

Gwen began to speak. "Ma'am, I understand your pain and your indecision." Her voice took on a sonorous timbre that belied her childish face. "I do not doubt that this is a difficult and dangerous task to achieve. None of us, whether we possess Divination or not, can foresee precisely what course we will take or what casualties may be incurred. There may be sacrifices ahead, ones in which both our tenacity and our will, will be tested. BUT Magister Ferris, the greatest danger of all would be to do nothing."

Ferris felt her chest constrict.

"As Mages, we have all chosen a Path, and my Path is the way of Militant Pacifism—to use everything in my power to ensure that there is peace. I care not for Factions. I care not about profit or prestige; I simply want our world to be safe for my friends and my benefactor."

The Diviner nodded, lost for words.

"Ma'am, the cost of freedom is always high, but we Mages have always paid it. I may only be a Junior Mage, not even a sanctioned Magus, but there is one Path I shall never choose, and that is the path of surrender or inaction. Ma'am, I implore you. I don't know if what we're doing is right. But the greatest wrong would be doing nothing."

Ferris grew silent, as did the cathedral. Emotions which they had not known before Gwen's soul-searching words struck the Magister to her very core.

Gwen Song! Ferris exalted. A future Magister! Mayhap even a future Magi!

If she were to help Henry and his proteges in this moment of crisis, they would forever owe her a boon which they were compelled to return. Even if Gwen were to betray Ferris' blessing, she would have a trump card with which she could demand a boon of gratitude from Henry Kilroy, such as a crucial vote on a polemic policy. If anything, Irene Ferris was first and foremost a pragmatist.

“Well, what are we waiting for?” The Magister made her choice. “It's time to take back the Tower."

Chapter thirty-nine

TrueLies

The battle inside Sydney's urban cityscape had transformed from a defensive wall into a grand melee. Though the defenders had left tens of thousands of Mermen carcasses in the water before they’d reached the hastily Transmuted walls, the emergence of a dozen Dragon Turtles changed the tide of the battle.

Though an Iron Golem was incredibly resilient against the breath attacks of the draconic turtles, the ones possessed by the Frontier Military were relics from the Coral Sea War. Unlike the state-of-the-art Steel Legions used by the Americans, these were antiquated European designs that dated back to the Second World War in the fifties. They remained highly potent and effective armaments but lacked the multi-armed, herculean strength of the newer models.

As if sensing their weakness, the dozen or so Dragon Turtles that emerged from the sea lumbered towards different parts of the city, splitting the Military's containment force and stretching their battle lines.

"Where's Gwen when you needed her the most?" Gunther lamented. If his sister-in-craft were there, she could have hastened the Golems by striking them with her Lightning spells.

Gunther performed a tight corkscrew turn and made a low pass between two office buildings. One was already half-shattered by the violent passage of a Dragon Turtle that had bested its Iron Golem counterpart. Its carcass, though, lay not too far from the building itself, a hulking form three storeys tall, headless and limbless after it had succumbed to a pyrrhic victory by the Frontier Militia.

Comparatively, the Tower Mages had performed their duties with minimal casualties. As Gunther flew by the shattered streets, sniping the wayward Mermen that emerged from broken shopfronts dragging civilians in cruelly barbed nets, he acknowledged the systematic failure of their collective defence network in the absence of its command centre.

"Help! Help! Oh, God! Someone, help!"

"I'll boil you alive, you lobster bastard!"

"Arrrgh! Arrgh! My arm! Somebody, help!”

A pair of heavily-armoured crustacean Mermen dragged a bountiful harvest of human prisoners behind them, heading back awards the ocean. With a few water-breathing enchantments from a Sea-Priest, the prisoners could be made suitable for labour or nourishment. Their prisoners—six humans whose silhouettes were indistinct in the cumbersome net—were threatening, begging and crying for the Mermen to release them.

As a Paladin, the sight brought a terrible ire to Gunther's chest. Those brazen bastards. They were already looting when the battle was hardly over!

With a wave of his hand, two beams hit the Mermen in the torso, severing them from chest to groin. A third blast severed the net, allowing the trapped prisoners within to struggle free.

As the prisoners crawled from their confinement, they looked for their saviour, expecting a Magus to alight from the heavens and exchange a few gloating words and accept their abject gratitude. They were left wanting, however, for the street remained deserted save for an avenue of smoking Mermen carcasses.

Having cleared the area, Gunther was already a block away and accelerating towards the next checkpoint, where a flight of Tower Mages were fighting for their lives.

His Radiant Aura transformed into a streak of light as he powered through the Quay towards the CBD, mindful of the aberrantly quiet Tower floating above, an apathetic God without a sliver of care for its children suffering below.

At Alesia's behest, Irene assembled a Rosebay team of elite Mages, two Magus and three Senior Mages, including her star pupil, Julia. They had an Abjurer-Enchanter, a Transmuter-Evoker and three others covering the tasks of Healing, Transmutation and Conjuration.

Blackwattle's fire team was Gwen and her companions, consisting of Yue, Whetu, Debora and Elvia, as well as Alesia herself. Their barely lucid Master, Henry Kilroy, was snugly bundled and strapped to Whetu, who promised to keep the Magister safe so long as he had breath enough for one more shield.

Alesia once again demonstrated the incredible resilience of one who had survived two major conflicts, draining a dozen HDMs in the time it took Gwen to mediate and restore half of her own. Their time for rest proved fleeting, however, and the teams had to make do with mana injectors and quick meditations.

With Ferris compliantly giving up her Teleportation Glyph, Paul, the translocation specialist, synchronised the Long-Range Teleportation Platform underneath the Cathedral to the Mid-Tower Base Station.

"If the Tower is still in contingency mode, the Spirit Core shouldn't announce your arrival. However, the teleportation circles are going to light up like Christmas the moment I activate the Glyph, so expect to materialise in a hot zone."

"That's fine, Paul. Can we teleport in ‘hot'?" Alesia asked.

A look of cunning comprehension exchanged between the two long-time teammates.

Paul smirked. "Just give me a few more minutes, I'll have the portal stabilised in no time."

While they waited, Alesia materialised an armoured robe that radiated an aura of Enchantment so luxuriant it created a pale glow visible to the unenchanted, naked eye.

"Is that…" Ferris' eyes opened just a little wider.

"Not the real deal, no," Alesia explained, throwing off her top and struggling out of her pants. She uttered a command word, and the tunic lifted into the air, slipping over her head. "It's a replica that I acquired from London after doing a few favours for the Cambridge Tower."

Once attired, the robe quickly shrank to accommodate Alesia's figure. Its sides split to offer more significant mobility, while the armoured sections mounted her arms and shoulders, conforming to her breasts. Below, the skirt section billowed out impressively in a flowing stream of crimson chiffon.

"What is it that you're wearing?" Gwen asked.

"A replicated Robe of the Arch-Mage," Whetu said with bright eyes full of wonder. “Lord Kilroy has a set as well; even the replicas are priceless."

"What does it do?" Yue asked. She had never seen tier-one Magical Items before. They were exceedingly rare in the “countryside” that was Frontier Cities.

Alesia stretched herself out, her taut figure enhanced by the second skin of the form-fitting armoured robe. "Permanent Resist Elements, Protection from Projectiles and Melee Damage. The real one possesses the additional property of greatly increasing your Elemental affinity," she added sagely, twirling to show the girls the cut and make of the rare robe.

The two teams marvelled at Alesia's unique garb, using the opportunity to distract themselves from the anxious prickle of their fraying nerves. Even Irene joined in, speaking long and meticulously about the creation of the original Arch-Magi robe by the Mage Morden.

Beside them, Paul finished changing the last of the Teleportation Glyphs. "This is a one-way trip. I hope you're all ready."

"Remember to stay in formation," Ferris informed her team. She then added a hopeful, “Don't fire until fired upon,” which made Alesia raise a critical brow.

Though the girls were breathless with nervous anticipation, Alesia seemed entirely in her element. "Just get us in, and we'll get the Tower back, no trouble," she confided to the assemblage with absolute confidence. "Failure won't be a problem. It's death or glory, do or die."

The Diviner shot Alesia a wilting look that suggested otherwise.

Both teams were buffed and warded, blessed and shielded. Irene even front-loaded each of the offensive casters with a True Strike. They were as ready as they were ever going to be.

"I am beginning the Invisibility shield," Ferris intoned. As she initiated the chant, the air surrounding the two teams shimmered.

"Alright," Paul began. The platform began to glow with the signature quick-silver mana of Conjuration. "Three… two… one…"

On the count of two, Alesia began an invocation. "Empowered Delayed Blast Fireball!"

Ferris looked up with an expression of shock and dismay. "What are—”

The Teleportation Circle enveloped them.

Jules, was receiving a lecture from Paladin Shultz when a siren rang out.

"NOW ENTERING QUARANTINE MODE."

He was as shocked as anyone when the Tower began to teleport “dissidents” from its interior, leaving behind only himself and three others in the cohort of new Acolytes.

When the madcap red light of the Tower's defensive system died, a command in the familiar voice of his Grandmaster, Magister Walken, rang throughout the public announcement Glyphs.

"This is Magister Walken. All members of the Grey Faction are to gather in the atrium for debriefing at thirteen-fifteen. Any members who fail to comply will be discharged from the Tower."

Still dazed with confusion, Jules and the others made their way hastily to the atrium. There, a hundred or so Mages, mostly juniors, had already gathered.

When enough of them had filled the chamber, the austere figure of Magister Walken appeared at the command dais dressed in a dazzling set of armoured combat robes.

The Magister and Master of the Grey Market was a quiet man with intense dark eyes. His face must have been handsome once, though now it was gaunt. His Magister's presence was more or less forgettable these days. However, it was precisely such an unmemorable figure, together with the support of his two peers, Lin and Ferris, who had created the most extensive "unofficial"' trading emporium in Oceania. Standing at a mere five-foot-nine, the once unassuming Magister radiated an aura of command, his loosely styled dark hair lined with streaks of silver. On both his hands were a spectacle of rare, exotic rings, while around his head rotated no less than six Ioun Stones. He was the very vision of an Archmage, inspiring his followers to let loose raptured cheers of jubilation.

Jules wasn't the sycophantic kind, but peer pressure was an infectious drug.

Above him, the Magister began to speak. “Friends of the Grey Market, I come as the bringer of terrible news. As of twenty minutes ago, we are in a state of war. The Mermen incursion which has been held back by the Tower is once again upon us. It is our solemn duty to keep the Tower safe from enemy hands."

The Illusion-empowered Glyphs built into the atrium began to construct a real-time vision of the scene below—a dozen Shielding Stations in smoking ruin and an armada of Mermen riding for the city.

Ragged cries of dismay broke out among the crowd. Some urged immediate action, others questioned what the hell the Tower was doing at a time like this. Where was Gunther Shultz, its Knight Protector? Where was the Master of the Tower?

"I know what you are thinking. Why are we being attacked? Why is the Tower disabled? Why are Message spells jammed?"

Walken paused, his tricolon resonating across the almost empty hall that should have housed a thousand battle-ready Mages.

"We are not in the midst of combat because we have been betrayed! More so, the traitor is Henry himself! The Master of the Tower is not as he seems!"

The crowd gasped.

"Behold what Kilroy's selfish actions have wrought upon us!"

A series of images created through magical glamour flickered to life. The hyper-realistic vision showed a woman with skin as white as snow massacring what appeared to be a coastal military base with dark tendrils of Void.

The crowd gasped and gagged at sight. The slaughter was utterly indiscriminate—men, women, mermen, NoMs and Mages, none escaped her life-seeking lamprey tentacles.

"That's… that's Noosa Heads!" someone cried out within the crowd.

All present had heard of the Massacre at Noosa Heads. It was before the creation of the Tower— a place where humanity had lost over four hundred promising Acolytes to an ambush by the Mermen. But the cause for the invasion and the disappearance of the Mages remained unresolved. Jules furrowed his brows. If so, why were they shown this now?

The second set of images showed a group of Mages piling what appeared to be another group of casters, tied and gagged, into iron cages. The montage progressed until the vision became that of a dark warehouse filled with bloodstained hospital beds where Mages, presumably captured prisoners, were being dissected for their organs. Overseeing the operation was yet again, an ageless young woman with pure white skin and dark hair.

An angry murmur spread throughout the crowd. The mood changed from confusion and question to outright resentment and hostility.

"It is with dire danger to himself that a friend and companion of our Faction was able to expose these nefarious operations. The heart of all this horror and misery lies in this woman, the very same responsible for the massacred youth at Noosa Heads."

A projection materialised, a photo of Elizabeth looking older, more worn and travelled. The lumen recording was an official portrait taken from the Tower's records.

A few of the Senior Mages in the crowd gasped.

"That's… that's Elizabeth Winsted Sobel! She's the war hero!"

"What? The Goddess of the Coral Sea Conflict?"

"The very same!"

"I've seen her on the propaganda recordings."

"Impossible!"

"She's dead, right?"

"Is she… undead?"

"That witch!"

"Those poor kids…"

"Those poor sods getting gutted!”

Jules felt assailed by conspiracy. It was possible to fabricate the whole thing, of course; illusions could be crafted and created by meticulous Illusionists, but the crowd saw no reason why their patron and Master would go to such lengths to deceive them. After all, Walken had brought great boons to the Tower via the Grey Market. He was well known as a generous Magister, dependable and protective of his Acolytes.

How could this be? Jules’ temple throbbed. Had the world gone mad?

Next, the Magister matched a few of the images from the previous sets with the lumen recording of Elizabeth, drawing gasps from the room.

"At first, I too doubted my findings. How could a war hero become such a virulent plague upon our society?" Another image appeared, this time of Henry and Elizabeth in the setting of a family portrait. "Furthermore, as some of you may know, Master Kilroy and Elizabeth Sobel are husband and wife. Why would the Master of Oceania betray his people, the same Mages he pledged to protect? For love, perhaps, or maybe a darker purpose?"

The image flickered again, this time of Elizabeth in the full fury of combat, swirling with motes of malignant darkness that made the room flicker ominously. The illusionary projection was lifelike and recorded candidly, giving the gathering a taste of what it was like to face Elizabeth in combat.

"SOBEL is a Void Mage! A caster in command of the forbidden element! A step away from Necromancy!" Walken announced.

There was another vision, this time a candid shot of Elizabeth draining the life from another Mage, a dozen others already dry husks beside her swirling, darkling form.

"That's Victor's team!" A voice cried out from the crowd. "They disappeared two years ago. I was told that Saurians ambushed his party!"

Jules felt his own heart pounding uncontrollably. The revelations were far too shocking and horrifying to be accounted for logically. The Master of the Tower's wife was a murderer, a traitor, and now she was also a Void Mage? It was earth-shattering news!

Furthermore, the woman was dead. Ancient history! There was something strange and illogical about it all, but Jules couldn't question the Master, not when the crowd was spitting venom.

Walken continued to speak, collapsing the image with a wave of his hand. "I too had thought there must be some explanation for all this. In the months that followed, I shadowed Magister Kilroy and his operations but thankfully uncovered nothing. I was delighted that our Master was innocent, that this may not be his wife, that this could be a look-alike—a doppelgänger.

"Yet, as some of you know, Master Henry had recently acquired a new protege."

The younger men nodded to themselves. As for Jules, he recalled the Lightning Sorceress, Gwen Song. The lovely young girl had been a regular feature of the Tower in the last few months. She had conversed with them and shared friendly chit-chats. Many of them had designs on the girl, doing small favours for her in the hopes of catching her attention.

"I regret to inform you that she too, is a Void Mage."

Another illusion appeared, this time projecting the epic combat between a group of girls and a giant spider in some salt mine. The vision seemed to be from the perspective of one of the participants, a Transmuter. They watched as she summoned sand pillars to halt the speed of the spider creature, but was too inexperienced to provide adequate cover for her allies. As the girls fought, they saw Gwen shoot off lightning bolts that cascaded harmlessly from the creature's salt-studded armour. The spider then burst through the pillars and lunged straight for the girls, making several of the inexperienced observers stagger backwards at the hyper-reality of the illusion.

Then without warning, the spider dropped and a horrid-looking parasite, half-worm, half-lamprey, its carapace in darkness and wet with ichor, burst from the spider's thorax.

“Shaa! Shaa!" The disgusting, malignant thing cried out, its slimy, putrid body wet with strange fluids from the interior of the sand spider.

The vision ceased.

A few of the watchers turned and hurled, triggering a wave of gags.

Walken waited, watching the crowd. "Still, I thought my friend, Henry Kilroy, may yet be uninvolved until a dutiful agent delivered the terrible truth."

Another illusion appeared, this time, the vision showed an office. Gwen Song was there, as well as an older blonde woman. Henry and his Familiar sat on a seat by themselves. The crowd murmured when they saw Gunther Shultz, the Paladin of the Tower, among that secret meeting. They were all listening intently to a shadowy figure deliver a revelatory address. Behind the shadow was a stone-faced Mage sitting behind a desk, looking drained and hollow.

"Ain't that Mark Chandler?" a voice pointed out.

"From the Black Cat Agency?"

"The very same!"

"Didn't he disappear last year? The Agency shut down!"

"Jesus, what the hell is happening?"

Within the vision, the gathering of Mages was watching the shadowy form of a girl, her ethereal body writhing in agony, her face a mask of malice with a palpable hatred for the living.

"Jane…" in the vision, Mark began to speak. "Jane, we don't have much time… tell them how you died."

"Died… I died…" The shadowy form of “Jane” mouthed in her necromantic guise, her face indistinct. Suddenly, the ghost cried out, a guttural, banshee's screech that went on and on, sending slivers of ice down the spines of the observers. "Murdered… I was murdered!"

"No! Necromancy!? In Sydney?"

"Unforgivable!"

As virulent emotions ran rampant around him, Jules found himself rising his fists willingly and shouting out angry slurs. Necromancy! Had the world not suffered enough under its yoke? Who were these who dared bring Necromancy back to these purified lands of Oceania? Just because they were the Masters of the Tower, they thought they could get away with such a crime against humanity?

The image changed and shifted. They watched the shared vision of the ghostly girl's demise, of Elizabeth's inhuman act. Of Jane's final moments in Noosa.

"Jesus…"

"Oh, gods."

"That poor girl."

The crowd momentarily forgot their anger when the dark sun blossomed over Noosa Heads. When the ghost thankfully perished, they saw Mark Chandler denounce the gathering, shouting accusations in turn at Henry, then at Gwen, becoming excited and agitated with each passing second.

"Put her in the chamber, Henry! Put her in and you'll know why Elizabeth is still alive. Ha! You were all wrong! My poor Jane. If you hadn't covered it up, Henry, if—"

Then abruptly, Gunther Shultz moved from where he stood and assaulted Mark Chandler. Without even incanting a spell, Gunther reached across space between them, caught Mark by the hair, and slammed his face against the stout oaken table. Mark's limp body then fell to the floor like a sack of potatoes.

The vision ended with Gunther teleporting away with Mark. The perspective of the informant ended with Henry and Gwen alone in the room.

"Do you now understand the stakes?" Walken spoke to the crowd slowly, biting each syllable.

"Henry Kilroy, Elizabeth Sobel, Gwen Song, they are all vipers of the same pit. They are working together to impair our society for their benefit! A deathless Magister who draws life from his Dryad, a deathless Void Mage who stole life from others! Furthermore, a new apprentice of both Lightning and the Void element! A serpent in the egg, which when hatched, shall be more poisonous than both Henry and his wife!"

"Not only that, the Paladin of the Tower, Gunther Shultz, in cahoots! A dog that traffics with wolves!" Walken cried out bitterly. "We are nothing but food to this family of life-sucking vampires—livestock and chattel! We exist only to feed their hunger for power, to develop their own forsaken magics. They may not behave like lions in public, but to them, we are boars!"

Walken struck the dais to steer the violent emotions of the crowd. "We are now in a moment of crisis. I did not wish to put my contingency plan into effect. However, when Watson Bay Shielding Station became disabled earlier, it became clear that whatever Elizabeth and Henry had planned was coming to fruition. Therefore, in his absence, I took the opportunity to assume control of the Tower's core systems."

He once again engaged the real-time vision of the scene below—a Leviathan, multiple Krakens, an armada of Mermen roving into the city.

Cries of horror and frustration erupted from the Mages below him. They had family down there! Friends and allies!

"I fear the Tower will not be joining the defence of the city. I have already disabled long-range communication to prevent any further complications," Walken said grimly. "I cannot risk the Tower, the most powerful instrument we possess, falling into the hands of Henry Kilroy again. Already, I have sent out Messages explaining our circumstances and requesting immediate aid from Melbourne and Brisbane. With any luck, they should be here to aid us in cleansing the city, as well as arresting Kilroy and his ilk."

Jules felt his breath catch in his chest. He wanted to believe. Those around him seemed to accept Walken without question. However, there were so many aspects of his narrative that seemed at odds.

Upon the dais, Walken was now confidently in command. "While Gunther and Kilroy occupy themselves with the invasion, we must keep the Tower safe. As such, we Greys will assume guard duty until either of the other two Towers arrive, bringing with them the blessings of Magister Lin or Magister Luther. Do you understand?"

A smattering of “Yes sir”s resounded from the uncertain crowd, more preoccupied with the dire circumstances facing their families.

"You are not compelled to stay if you are not with us. If you wish to abandon the Tower to Void Mages and Vampires I can teleport you out right now, safely deposited inland." The crowd considered their options while Walken persisted in his rhetoric. "Friends, students, compatriots, we cannot lose this war! Sydney must survive even if we do not!" Walken raised his voice resolutely.

"YES SIR!" The crowd chorused back.

Jules followed the flow of emotions, his mind a confused muddle of conflicting feelings. A second later, the ranking Mages began to give them orders, but Jules was too preoccupied to comprehend their hastily-given commands.

Why would someone who was intimately known to Magister Kilroy betray him? How authentic were the lumen-recorded illusions? Why would the Paladin of the Tower, numbered as one of the highest authorities there, betray the institution itself? Why was Master Walken privy to so many of Kilroy's secrets, and why was it all coming out without consulting any of the other Magisters? After all, Magister Ferris and Magister Lin were both members of the Grey Faction. All they had to do to remove Kilroy was convince three more Magisters out of the ten. With the evidence Master Walken had demonstrated, it should be no trouble.

Jules wanted answers to these pressing questions but was lost in the momentum of the crowd. He shuffled from the room like a ghoul, unmindful of his steps as he bumped shoulders with others, who likewise alternated between fervent and perplexed.

"Hey Jules, we got the mid-section Teleportation stack." Frederick, his university alumni, tapped him on the shoulder. "How about this, huh? Lord Kilroy, a traitor and his wife a life-sucking Vampire. Pretty rad if you ask me."

Jules nodded absentmindedly, masking his thoughts from his friend.

"I can't believe that sweet little thing is a Void Mage too. She was a sight for sore eyes. Did you know that I even offered to take her out once?"

"Yeah," Jules mumbled. "You tell us that every other week."

"I am worried about my sis, you know. I am glad they live inland, all the way south of the western suburbs. Sucks to be one of the coastal folks, hey? Where's your family located?"

"Canberra."

“Lucky. Chin up, Jules, we got to hold the Tower until help arrives. I can't wait to see the vid-cast trials for this fiasco. Reckon they'll fill the Stasis Prison or just go straight for public execution?"

"Who knows?" Jules felt a shiver despite the controlled climate of the Tower's interior.

It took them a few rides on bisecting routes of levitation platforms to arrive at the mid-way Teleportation Chamber.

There were a dozen guards stationed at the Teleportation Circles, Jules included. The Evoker languishingly took up position in the dimness of the Tower's interior. Usually, the place was a hive of activity, each corridor illuminated by glowing Sigils that mimicked daylight. Now, most of the passages burned with a dull red, indicating that the Tower was in Quarantine mode.

To the Acolyte's knowledge, Magister Ferris was the only one of his Faction currently present in Sydney. Jules hoped that the wizened Diviner would make an appearance and answer some of his questions. Maybe it was all a misunderstanding, or the Magisters could reach a compromise. Jules understood that there were Factions in the Tower, but he hoped that in the face of racial extermination by the Mermen, only the "Faction" called humanity mattered.

He found a comfortable nook and sat, meditating to soothe out the turbulent mana stirred up by his emotions. Hopefully, whoever teleported through these circles would bring an invocation of True Seeing that would dispel the twisted illusions haunting their present reality.

Chapter forty

The Widening Gyre

Alesia's Delayed Blast Fireball enveloped the mid-Tower Teleportation Chamber a split-second after her group materialised on the platform. The damage was near-instantaneous—the sealed chamber simply lit up; there was a flash of quicksilver mana, then the world burned.

When Ferris and her party appeared on the platform next, the dizzying scent of scorched flesh and sizzling fat assaulted their nostrils.

No one had expected that, a split-second into their quest, they would bear witness was the cold-blooded murder of a dozen members of the Grey Faction. Ferris did not doubt that she would have known at least one of the Mages, either as an associate or alumni. What if one of them had wanted to converse with her? What if they were unwitting participants of the conspiracy at hand? She felt assailed by guilt, but also glad that she didn’t recognise their charred miens. A few of the girls began to cry when one of the crispy cadavers convulsed, its involuntary struggle triggered by raw nerves still tethered to contracting flesh.

Ferris shook with indescribable fury as she turned toward the culprit, challenging the Scarlet Sorceress' cold, ultramarine eyes. Alesia de Botton looked as though she’d done something utterly inconsequential.

"To the Grot," Alesia announced. "We need to get Master Kilroy in there as soon as possible."

Ferris looked to Henry to see if the old Magister had anything to say about his bloodthirsty entourage. To her dismay, the attack dog's handler was inhaling and exhaling weakly, oblivious upon the Maori's back, blind to the world.

Gwen and her company likewise averted their eyes as they passed the victims, about a dozen in all. Only now did the blood began to seep out from the orifice of their charred, inanimate forms.

Ferris repressed her anger, choosing to keep her lips pursed. Bereft of her Divination, she wasn't sure what to expect after teleporting into the Tower. A standoff seemed a reasonable outcome; a confrontation with Walken's followers more than likely. What she had not expected was her immediate participation in the wholesale slaughter of Walken's Acolytes. What would her ally think of them now? How could she face him and expect him to be rational after this?

"Nothing is getting between Lord Kilroy and that Grot," Gwen's sister-in-craft informed Ferris with eyes that were glazed over with single-minded determination, twinkling madly with suggestions of zealous ultraviolence.

The platform began to ascend.

"Alesia… Magus de Botton," Ferris spoke with as much diplomacy she could muster. "I ask that you refrain from taking so many lives. We need to preserve the life of every Mage we can if we wish to combat the Mermen and restore the Tower."

Alesia shook her head. "With all due respect, Magister, they were attempting to ambush us. It was them or us, and I was faster. That was all there was to it."

Ferris held her gaze against Alesia's own. The two women said nothing more as the platform shot towards the Tower's zenith.

When they began to approach the entrance to the Grot, however, it was evident that the final chamber of the Tower was under guard.

"Halt!" a voice cried out before the platform even reached its destination. "Present yourselves! Hands in the air! Else we will disengage the platform's levitation!"

Ferris' pleading grey irises meet with Alesia's. "I could have left you down there, but I gave you the benefit of the doubt. Please, give me mine," she implored. "Alesia, there has been enough death today."

From his vantage point, Alec Guerre dared to breathe a little when he saw the platform and its cargo of Mages raise their hands submissively. Alesia de Botton was amongst them, and the Void Mageling— Gwen Song, as well as Magister Ferris and what looked to be a comatose Magister Kilroy.

When the floating disc completed the final few metres of its journey, docking onto the remote platform housing the Grot with an audible click, Guerre exhaled in relief.

The two groups of Mages looked upon one another warily as Guerre fired off a Message spell via the Tower's intra-systems. "Sir, I have Magister Ferris, Magus Alesia, and Gwen Song at the entrance of Kilroy's Grot. Kilroy is with them as well, but he looks incapacitated."

"Excellent, stall them while I gather the men. I'll be there very soon," Walken replied.

"Lord Ferris, Major de Botton, ladies and gents," the Magus addressed each of them in turn, eventually adding a respectful, "Grandmaster Kilroy."

"Magus Guerre, in the interests of all involved, please remove yourself from our path," Ferris said with a tone of command. "This is an emergency."

Guerre remained unmoved by the Magister's command. "I am afraid I cannot do that, Ma'am. Additionally, I regret to inform you that I must take Lord Kilroy, Major de Botton, and Gwen Song into custody."

"On what charge?" Ferris questioned, her eyes narrowing.

"On harbouring a mass murderer and a traitor who trafficks in Mage-kin, and on charges of harbouring Void Mages with dissident interests against the Tower and the city."

To Guerre's surprise, Ferris ignored his warning and persisted in dressing him down. "Magus Guerre, I suggest you remove yourself at once, or else." To Guerre's eyes, she appeared both annoyed and embarrassed that he had challenged her authority.

"I can't do that," he rejected flatly, enclosing his hands in the form of a shielding incantation as he spoke. "Globe of Invulnerability!"

An invisible shield shimmered before the gate to the Grot, covering Guerre and his Mages.

The Abjurer Magus watched as Ferris flushed a deep scarlet. She must have thought her authority was sufficient, but Guerre was in no mind to follow her orders, not with the revelations he had seen.

All the Mages who remained in the Tower were loyal to Walken. Without her Acolytes and supporter's presence in the Tower, the non-combatant Diviner was powerless.

Guerre watched the group squirm behind the magic-negating barrier. Soon, his superior would arrive, and that would be the end of these Void Mages.

The group watched as Guerre and his assemblage smugly accosted thin air, looking mightily pleased with their “success”.

"See?" Ferris turned to Alesia triumphantly. "No need for more bloodshed. Nothing like a good Illusory Grandeur."

"We'll see about that," Henry’s disciple replied ominously.

The group moved past the guards who smugly regarded the paralysed, indecisive illusions Ferris had made of themselves, making for the gate. Even as they passed the glamoured Mages, they didn’t notice them. Unlike lower-tier magic, high-tier Illusions were incredibly immersive when employed under the right circumstances.

Whetu brought Henry forward. Gwen pressed her Master's hand against the sylvan-door as she had seen him do so many times before. There was a moment in which they held their breath, then the ironwood portal opened without incident.

Within the Grot, much had changed. With Sufina severely drained by the Void elementals, the Grot itself was now bog-like, damp and dark, more akin to a rotting rainforest than a verdant garden.

Alesia ushered the others into the sanctuary, led by Whetu carrying Henry. The instant they passed the barrier gate, the old Magister stirred into a semblance of consciousness. "To the heart chamber. Gwen should know…"

When Ferris and her group sought to gain entry through the portal, Alesia lowered a hand to obstruct their passage. "We'll hold the fort here," Alesia said stubbornly. "The pocket dimension can only hold so many people."

The Magister considered the cost of challenging Alesia's innocuous statement and appeared to find her prospects wanting. Within the Grot was the heart of Henry's domain. If Ferris wished to remain their ally and benefit from the operation's success, then she mustn't challenge this particular threshold of their tenuous alliance.

"Fine, we stall them here. The illusion will last an hour at most.How long would it take to restore Kilroy?"

"As long as it takes." The Scarlet Sorceress met Ferris' eyes before renewing her body-buffs. "As I said, it’s do or die."

Directed by Gwen, Whetu and the others followed into the heart of Kilroy's sanctuary until they reached a humongous Banyan. The thick, woven roots of the tree formed into a sheltered space hollowed out by the lifting timber. Above, thickly braided roots hung as though it was a great beard.

With Whetu's aid, Gwen lifted the ragdoll body of her master and placed him within the heart of Sufina's Grot. At first, nothing seemed to come to pass. The team watched with nerve-wracking agitation.

"Gwen, do you think…" Yue was the first to speak.

"No," Gwen replied sternly. "Patience, I can feel something here."

There was a sense of familiarity about the mana that surrounded them, embedded in the fleshy walls of the Banyan tree. Gwen thought of Sufina, of her Master, and something that would trigger a sense of recognition. The answer she found brought a smile to her lips. Gwen produced the gift she had received from Almudj from her Storage Ring and placed it on Henry. The scale grew warm in her hand and began to shed a scintillating light, painting the Grot with rainbow hues.

To no one's surprise, Debora left the chamber, attracting a discouraging snort from a critical Yue.

The next few minutes were agonising, though thankfully, Henry's complexion eventually changed from lily to peach, indicating a slow restoration of the old Magister's vitality.

When Henry's breathing returned to a regular cadence, the group collectively exhaled, finally drawing in fresh breaths.

"Well, we did it." Gwen brushed a stroke of loose hair from her Master's face.

"Thank Master Alesia and that Magister Ferris." Yue injected a hint of nervous mirth into the conversation. "I am surprised she came through."

"I hope he recovers soon," Elvia added, her face regaining its colour now that there was light at the end of this dark tunnel.

"Where's Debora?" Gwen asked, puzzled that a member of their team was so distant at a pivotal time like this. “I saw her outside earlier, did she not come in?”

Elvia nodded. “Yeah, you know her 'allergy' to the scale."

"I don't mind her so much these days, but man, she's such a weirdo when it comes to these things." Yue took a swing their xenophobic friend. Gwen agreed, though Debora’s recent performance compelled her to bite her tongue. The Shire girl had worked hard and done well against the Mermen, defending the two Evokers expertly during the grand melee.

Just as Gwen felt at a loss for her friends' persistent distance, Debora ducked under the archway of the heart chamber. "Guys, we got trouble." Her brown eyes were anxious with apprehension. "There are a lot of them out there."

Gwen turned to regard Henry, sensing that her Master was breathing easier with each passing moment. She could feel through Almudj's gift that Sufina's life-tree was mending both Master and servant. The main thing now was to stall until Henry could recover. If her Master could regain even a fraction of his powers, they could resume control of the Tower and resolve their convoluted crisis.

Gwen touched Henry's wrinkled hands. Her Master had given her so much. Now was the time to repay his kindness. "This is not going to be easy," she began, but the stirring rhetoric wasn't necessary.

"We're with you."

"Let's do it!"

"To the bitter end! Though I hope it doesn't come to that."

Gwen felt her heart fill with rapture as they huddled. Come hell or high water, she was ready.

When Gwen and the others returned to the entrance of the Grot, Ferris was in a heated argument with a grey-haired Mage impressively attired in an enchanted robe, decked with swirling Ioun Stones. "Eric, this is insane. Stand down at once! I can't believe you've set the whole city on fire for your little games. Just wait until the other Magisters hear of this. Lin won't stand for it!"

"I am insane? You're the one who will be persecuted by the High Council. Kilroy has been a plague; he's been hiding Sobel for decades. There's nothing you can do to deny this fact. His wife is a mass-murderer, the reason for the Noosa Heads Massacre! Who do you think barters for the Mages she traffics? She'd tied to this invasion, mark my words!"

"That may be but it doesn't excuse the fact that you have withheld the Tower from coming to the aid of the city. You disabled communication and ensured that hundreds of Mages, tens of thousands of NoMs who might have survived are now dead! We're not warmongers, Eric. You've taken this too far."

"You don't know what I have seen, Irene. Kilroy's hand is as bloody as they come. He's in cahoots with Sobel, you'll see. How could I let the Tower fall into the hands of the enemy?"

"Don't be such a fool, Eric. I was there when they fought! Why do you think Henry is in this state? If he was alive and well, how could the Mermen even penetrate the shields? You should know better to be blinded by your ambition. And even if Henry was a mass-murderer himself, it's up to the Tower to implicate him, not you, Eric. Not you!"

The two Magisters of the Grey Faction exchanged a few more barbed accusations before separating with reddened faces. When Walken saw Gwen's group emerge from the Grot, his complexion took on a darker shade. "Irene, for God's sake, move aside!"

The Diviner bit her lower lip until it flushed a shade purple. "I am sorry, old friend. I cannot allow this farce to go any further than it already has. You’ve been had.”

Beside Ferris, Alesia stared down at Walken coldly as if daring him to try her. "I'd listen to Master Ferris if I was you," Alesia spat venomously. "This time, it's not going to be just your library that goes up in kindling."

"Silence, hellcat of Kilroy!" Walken snapped before turning to Ferris. "Irene, I don't want to hurt you, but you're forcing my hand."

Gwen and the others watched the exchange behind the Grot's portal, mesmerised by the spectacle of Oceania's highest-ranked Mages about to square off in a chamber that was no larger than a generous classroom. A single cataclysmic spell would collapse the room and decimate every living soul inside.

It was a curious dilemma. Use low-tier spells and they couldn't penetrate each other's defences. Use high-tier spells and they could tear the whole place apart.

Walken's gaze fell upon Gwen. "There! Do you see her, Irene? There's the little Void vixen that Henry is raising. She'll be the death of us all, mark my words. A walking calamity!"

Gwen was as shocked as anyone that Walken, a Magister she had never seen before in her life, was addressing her so vehemently.

"I have seen her Void Magic, Eric. She is not as you describe."

"The Council will be the judge of that!" Walken spat smugly.

Gwen followed Walken's cold, dark eyes as the Magister's gaze surveyed each inch of her figure. The man's gaze was a scalpel trying to dig under her skin and uncover how she ticked. She'd felt the same gaze before when she'd dealt with Mark Chandler. The man was hunting for secrets he believed were buried deep somewhere within her. As a Magister, the pressure from his intent gaze as immense, appearing as though he was dissecting her.

It was Alesia who moved between them and freed Gwen from the torturous attention. "That's enough," she intoned coldly. "You want to bully someone, try me."

"Insolent wench!"

Motes of Transmutation and Conjuration erupted from Walken as the last ounce of his patience was spent. A portal opened beside him, battering the chamber with a terrific gust that forced Gwen's company to shield their eyes. Walken was summoning his Familiar, a Couatl from the Elemental Plane of Air.

"A fancy snake isn't going to save you," Alesia opened up her Mana Channels, igniting the air surrounding her body, menacing the Magister recklessly. "Last chance, Walken."

"Globe of Invulnerability!" Ferris's Abjurer opened with a spell that negated offensive magic below tier five.

"Globe of Invulnerability!" Their opposing Abjurer responded in kind.

"Wall of pounamu!" Whetu did his part, creating a series of barrier shields that ensured they couldn't be bull-rushed. In the next moment, a flood of buffs engendered on both sides.

"Bless!"

"Resist Elements!"

"Shield of Faith!"

"Stone Skin!"

"Sanctuary!"

"Death Ward!"

"Aura of Life!"

"Wall of Stone!"

Chaos and anarchy erupted as protective spells of all types and elements flooded the room, dizzying even the most experienced of Diviners.

"Ergh—"

Gwen was a split second away from dropping a Flash Bang when she felt the premonition of something so terrible it made her heart skip a beat. Beside her, Ferris seemed to have sensed the same thing. Alarmed, she looked toward the Master Diviner and saw Ferris' eyes widen in horror, her mouth moving to utter an indistinct warning. "Gwen—"

Gwen gasped. Unbidden, every ounce of her consciousness focused upon the excruciating pain that promptly wracked her body.

"Arrgh! Who—" Her instinctual cry broke mid-utterance, her breath catching in her throat so violently that her torso convulsed. She felt motes of shifting sand crawl underneath her armoured robes, constricting her arms and legs, seizing her neck like a choker. Concurrently, the convulsive panic pushed the air from her lungs turned her scarlet with asphyxiation. An irresistible force bent her spine and held her in place, helpless.

The unexpected turn of events arrested the imminent mortal combat between the two parties.

"Debora!"

"Debbie?"

"Gwen! No!" The ignited air surrounding Alesia deflated. Alesia stared wide-eyed at Gwen, held captive by Debora's Sand Spirit.

"Walken… you…" Ferris' face blanched. Her gaze met the resolute eyes of the girl standing behind Gwen and shuddered. Debora was utterly impassive, showing no indication that she had just betrayed her closest friend, the girl she had professed to love and desire. Her expression was a mask of nothing, a tabula rasa devoid of emotions. When Gwen struggled, she tightened her spell, lifting Gwen from the ground.

"I can't believe you fell for that twice," Debora articulated her triumph. Her voice was strange, sounding as though she had borrowed the vocal cords.

"Good work, Ms Jones," From across the room, Walken congratulated the athletic Transmuter. "I knew that I could count on you!"

The gathered crowd looked from Debora toward Walken and back again.

"Debbie! No!" Elvia let loose a heartrending cry, her complexion ashen.

"Sheet!" Whetu cursed. His dark face flushed, the symmetry of his facial tattoos outlined by his livid face.

"Debora, if you can even imagine surviving my wrath, you will let her go, right now," Alesia snarled, her the heat of quaking hellfire.

"Bring her to me," Walken commanded delightfully.

To the Magister's surprise, Debora did not hand Gwen over. She stood unmoving as soon as she exited the Grot.

"Now, now, like we agreed. I will protect you. You'll be a hero. I swear by my arcane soul." Walken's voice was seductive and resonant, full of soothing allure.

Upon hearing Walken's promise, Yue's face grew so full of fury that she looked ready to ignite where she stood. Opening her mouth to speak, she delivered her diatribe without reserve. "Debora, God help me if you don't let Gwen go right this minute, my life's sole purpose will revolve around ensuring that you suffer the greatest agony known to man or woman. Do you think you can make it as the Apprentice of this asshole? Think again, fucking bitch. Nothing is going to save you. You know what? Even if you die before I am through, I am going to kill everyone you love. Your brothers, your sister, everyone. You will rue the day you turned traitor. You can trust me on this. I swear by my Arcane Soul."

Yue's stunning words bounced from wall to wall.

In its aftermath, time slowed. Walken persisted in imploring Debora to deliver Gwen to him while Alesia, Ferris, and the others waited for an opportunity to free Gwen from Debora's Sand Prison.

"Don't try anything, especially you." Debora turned to Alesia to warn off her subtle channel of Transmutation magic. The sorceress’ brows knit in frustration, shocked that a lacklustre Transmuter with limited innate talent could call her out.

"Alesia," Ferris' voice bloomed beside her, using a line-of-sight variation of the Message spell. "Something is not right. My premonition senses are going haywire. That girl is stalling and we must find out why. There is going to be great, imminent danger. My instincts are screaming for me to flee."

Alesia growled. What could be more dangerous than their present circumstances?

The Scarlet Sorceress' eyes measured every inch of Debora's form, searching for some clue as to what was sending Ferris's Divination into a frenzy. Alesia's gaze landed on a small, nondescript ring that Debora wore on her left hand.

A ring. A standard accessory common to Mages sparkled. There were many kinds of rings. Storage Rings were standard, followed by Tracking Rings, ones that had teleportation beacons, given by Masters to their Apprentices so they could escape imminent danger.

Watching Debora's fingers, a stray thought invaded Alesia's imagination, after which she was no longer capable of maintaining the meditative cadence of her breathing. The hot blood in her veins abruptly turned to ice. Circumstances and events converged within.

"No!" she cried, her musky bloodthirst transforming into a hysterical panic. A burst of flame engendered, then she Blinked into the Grot, abandoning the companions of her party to their present dilemma.

"You're too late," Debora announced flatly to the still flaming air. "There is nothing you can do. There is nothing any of you can do. Not anymore."

Deep within the Grot, Henry Kilroy, Master of the Ten, Lord of the Ordo Arcanum Oceania, was stirred to wakefulness by a familiar scent of lilacs. For a moment, he had thought himself still sleeping amongst a pile of white sheets, the heat of the Tuscan sun beating down outside as a dry wind whispered through the Ottoman architraves.

When he opened his eyes, however, the familiar sight of the heart-tree came into being. His head, however, rested not on wood, but on a pair of soft, white thighs, held in place by their supple curvature.

A face came into view, breathlessly beautiful. Eyes as soft as a mellow summer's sky held him intact within their twin pupils. Wisps of bible-black hair tickled his nostrils.

"Hey," Henry struggled to speak. "I wasn't expecting you here."

"Hey." Elizabeth smiled, her small cherry lips parting with breathless desire. "I know we only just parted, but I missed you."

For some reason, rather than fear, Henry felt free. After all these years, they were back to square one. "You know," he began. "I often wondered if it would have been better if we had all died that day on the Brisbane Line. If you and I had perished, how many innocents lives could have been spared?"

Elizabeth said nothing, for there was nothing more that needed to be said. She leaned forward and kissed Henry full on the mouth, her passionate tongue meeting his own. Her lithe white fingers wrapped around his skull and dug into his papery skin.

Like so many years ago, like that fateful day on the Brisbane Line, Henry's wife allowed herself to let go.

When the Master of a summoned Familiar perishes, all manifested phenomenon created by the magical being ceases to be. And it was with the fabled Grot—the unassailable bastion of Henry Kilroy, Master of the Tower. A symbol of power and stability, the domain of 'Deathless Henry' that had for three decades taken its residence atop the tallest spire of the Brutalist Tower.

Just a moment prior, there was an ironwood portal, a shimmering gate, the distorted space of a pocket-dimension.

Now, a second later, it was as though the Grot had never existed.

Gwen was a tough woman, one not easily stirred to volatile emotions. She was a modern woman, one who believed in self-efficacy and the power of individual will to overcome all obstacles.

None of that could help her now.

Caught in the excruciating torture of her constrictive prison, Gwen sensed painful tears pour from her eyes. She had thought herself tutored in despair when the slavers had captured her, but she'd been woefully mistaken. Now, she felt genuine despair. Sloshing and churning, the feeling was sick and sinister and viscous, its malice dragging her into the suck of a dark sea.

There was no Grot.

There was no Henry.

No Yue.

No Elvia.

No Whetu.

No Alesia.

Nothing.

There was only the figure of a dark-haired woman, her blue eyes smiling with mirth, her red lips a dash of red paint upon a flawless complexion as pale as virgin snow.

Chapter forty-one

The Lost Falcon

“Elizabeth Sobel!" Walken's trembling voice echoed across the half-empty chamber. His usually narrow eyes bulged at their sockets. How was it even possible for her to be here? Walken felt the surety of his plan falling apart with each new revelation. No Mage can teleport into to the Tower without using an attunement key, much less into the confines of another Mage's pocket dimension. How was it possible that this Void Mage was able to overcome so many restrictions?

The Magister's deliberations painfully re-aligned. The cataclysmic shift of circumstantial evidence unquestionably proved that unlike in his hypothesis, Gwen Song and Elizabeth Sobel were not Master and Apprentice.

Urgent questions begged for knowledge he did not possess.

Why had the Grot been dispelled? Was Henry Kilroy deceased?

How had the Void Mage not been shunted away by the collapse of the pocket dimension? A multitude of enigmas plagued his mind, each an agonising seed of self-doubt.

Walken's eyes fell upon Debora, beside whom Gwen Song, the Junior Void Mage, was held captive by a prison of sand. Jones had come to him, citing that she'd borne witness to Kilroy's confession of harbouring and abetting a Void Mage conspiracy. He'd then worked with Debora in secret, going as far as to promise her an Apprenticeship in exchange for whatever memory he'd extract from her. With so much evidence at hand, he'd been confident that Gwen Song and Henry Kilroy were conspiring against the Tower's interests.

Now, however, observing Debora's change in demeanour, Walken realised he'd seen that nervous look before—it was the look of a dog expecting admonishment from its Master.

Turmoil seethed in Walken's chest! He wanted nothing more than to have an hour alone with Debora in an isolation chamber, strapped to a chair while a Compel Truth enchantment stripped her mind. Perhaps, Walken thought regretfully, that should have been the first stop when she had first approached him.

"Eric," a Message spell privately bloomed next to his ear. It was Irene Ferris, his fellow Magister whom he'd thought had made her bed with Kilroy. "Whatever is happening, we have to survive this. Even if Kilroy and de Botton are both gone, we cannot allow the Tower to fall into this woman's hands. At worst, I'd rather see the Tower burn than see it usurped."

Walken's response was interrupted by the sight of Debora, who had been entirely passive the whole while, proceeding to present herself before Elizabeth Sobel. She moved, followed dangerously by the steel-like gaze of the gathered. She knelt upon one knee and supplicated before the Void Mage, bowing her head close to the ground as though she was exalting a deity.

“Eric!” Ferris' voice took on a tone of desperate urgency. "Henry is gone. We're on the same side now! There's been a conspiracy, and you've been played. Eric, please. Don't go down this path any further. Do what is best for you and the Tower, for the Faction!"

Ferris' words struck Walken at the core of his being, momentarily draining the strength from his body. He knew that the Master Diviner was right. His feud with de Botton and Kilroy had blinded his better judgement.

The moment the Grot had disappeared, “Deathless” Henry had died, sending his Familiar back to whatever Black Zone he'd found her in. With the death of his old nemesis, Walken's ploy had perished like the animus of an abandoned Familiar. He had been so sure that Kilroy's ilk were the culprits behind the crisis, but as it turned out, he had been the monkey in the middle the whole damn while.

Eric Walken, one of the Ten, chuckled bitterly. What a world of shit he'd found himself in.

With a silent thrum, one of his Ioun Stones activated. "Magus Fiore, shut down the Disruptor Engine and cancel the quarantine." He paused for a split-second, a moment of self-preservation fighting the necessity of action. "Inform Paladin Shultz that the Master of the Tower is dead, that we need his aid, and that once our enemy is abjured, I am at his mercy."

"Yes, my Lord," The answer came swift and unquestioning.

"Did you contact the Brisbane and Melbourne Towers?" Ferris pursued Walken carefully.

"I did. Both are on the way."

"When?"

"Soon, I hope. While you stalled. I was stalling too."

Walken looked over at the figure of Elizabeth, standing with such confidence that he and his forces may as well be transparent. Either the woman was insane or she had nothing to fear. Unfortunately, knowing Ferris’ powers of premonition, it was the latter that applied.

All they could do now was wait and hope. Hoping that, with Gunther's imminent arrival, the three of them would be enough to hold out until the other Towers teleported in.

Gwen gasped for air.

With each renewed struggle, the sand prison seemed to constrain her in novel ways, either magically compelled or by Debora's will. Every attempt she made at summoning the energies of Lightning or Void resulted in a wracking agony that disrupted her Mana Channels.

Under her eyes, Debora moved towards Elizabeth Sobel. With each inch the Transmuter closed in, Gwen felt a sliver of fear knotting her gut like a razor was scraping the insides of her abdomen.

Was she about to be consumed herself? Her scalp crawled. Gwen had devoured others before now, or at least Caliban had. Had karma come calling at last?

From the corner of her eye, Gwen could see that Debora had bent her knee. The proud girl's head lowered itself to perform a shameful petition. It gave the impression of a child begging for forgiveness.

Henry's wife seemed to possess no interest in Debora. Instead, she turned her terrifying attention towards Gwen, triggering a wave of nausea, draining the blood from her face.

"What a lovely thing you are." Elizabeth's breath possessed a hint of lilac. Gwen felt goosebumps prickle her skin, painfully, her eyes following the path of Elizabeth's survey as they swept over her supple body, tracing the curve of her waist down to her white thighs. Satisfied with her inspection, Elizabeth placed a pale, dainty hand upon Gwen's forehead. To Gwen, it felt as though five icicles were stabbing into her skull.

"So much potential. Such a waste," Elizabeth purred. "What did Henry see in you? A chance to redeem himself?"

Gwen wanted to retort, to riposte her mocking insult. Though the words came easily, she found herself tongue-tied. Her Master was dead. What else is there to say?

"Master," a voice emanated from below them. It was Debora; her head touched the floor. "You promised."

Elizabeth laughed, a thrilling trill that echoed through the chamber like silvery bells. "Of course, my child. So I have." Her tone was kind and generous. "You have truly outdone yourself this time. What kind of Master would I be if I could not even grant such a simple boon?"

Gwen groaned; breathing fire was an extravagance when compared to the torturous sensation emitted by Elizabeth's icy fingers.

"Some privacy, perhaps?" Elizabeth intoned.

Debora said nothing, merely silently pressing her temple against the floor.

"Very well then, I expect great things from you when you return."

Seemingly satisfied with Debora's supplication, Elizabeth expertly uttered an incantation. "Portal."

Gwen felt yet another jolt of shrieking premonition sending slivers of shivery frost up her spine. She watched helplessly as an orb appeared beside her head, rapidly expanding to encompass her body. As the inky darkness touched her skin, she felt enveloped in something viscous and expansive, like dipping one's feet into a vat of oil.

She opened her mouth to shout and yell when the darkness finally reached her face, but in the deep dark of the bible-black Void, who would hear her scream?

Walken and Ferris flinched as Gwen and Debora became enveloped in a lightless orb darker than black. When it rapidly shrunk with an audible pop, the duo was gone, leaving behind a smooth concavity in the stonework that looked as though it had been carved out by master stonemasons.

Elizabeth turned her attention towards them, her baby-blue eyes reserved and serene. "Well, have you seen enough?" Elizabeth's alluring, youthful face betrayed her aura, a nauseating wave of violence and slaughter that ripped from her like rising tidal water. "Are you ready to meet your maker?"

"Back, fiend!" Walken ignored Elizabeth's goading. Instead, he forced his breathing to reach the optimum meditative cadence for mana retention. The Void bitch had one thing right. He was ready. "Mages, fire at will!"

"Shatter!"

"Water Bolt!"

"Firebolt!"

"Scorching ray!"

"Magic Missiles!"

Though the volume of spells that filled the air was impressive, the vast majority of the cover fire was generated by Junior Mages with low-tier incantations. A scarce few of the volleys were from the Magi, who each manifested their most offensive and destructive spells.

"Fireball!"

"Minute meteors!"

"Stone Strike!"

"Flame Arrow!"

"Air Blast!"

Elizabeth didn't even wince. A dark egg enveloped her; the surface of her Void shield absorbed each spell, their effect causing naught but ripples as the magic gluttonously devoured the devastating assault.

Shielded by the pyrotechnical display, Walken produced a miniature mithril model maze with a snap of his wrist. He began to draw the Sigils for an incredibly elaborate containment spell. It took close to ten seconds for the complicated magic to manifest, the effort causing a sheen of sweat to permeate his face.

With a triumphant roar, Walken executed his trump card. "Maze!" Both of his hands pressed together upon the mithril-forged miniature, feeling the component crumple to silvery dust as the spell manifested. It was a fail-safe he'd prepared for Kilroy, fully expecting the Magister to resist his accusations until the bitter end. As his magic manifested, an invisible portal enclosed the dark egg, containing it within the space of a Demi-plane used to entrap difficult foes.

Once Elizabeth was imprisoned, Walken could keep her penned for days, until either she found a way to escape the spell or until he was out of mana. By then, with any luck, their allies would have arrived. No matter how powerful Elizabeth may appear to be, there was no way she could stand up to the might of Gunther, the Tower's Paladin, Lin, the Grey Faction's only Combat Magister, as well as Uther, the Battlemaster of the Warring Faction.

"It's working!" Ferris muttered with evident relief. “Eric!”

"No, she's resisting me!" Walken grunted in alarm. "She's draining the spell force somehow! How is this even possible? Mages, cease your attacks now!"

Ferris cursed and redoubled her concentration, compelling her spell to once again manifest.

Crack!

A fracture fissured the invisible air, tearing time and space. As the Maze spell collapsed, a flood of Void mana poured from the dark egg. A viscous ooze began to drip from its surface, pitter-pattering onto the floor to form into hundreds of writhing lampreys in obsidian.

"Shit! That's what it was doing!" Walken realised too late. "A Spell Eater!"

Within a second of their aberrant birth, the creatures seemed to sense the group of Mages firing upon them and began to leap, crawl, slither and jump towards them like a dark, ominous tide.

"Fuck!"

"Shit, what the hell are those things?"

"Oh, gods!"

"Aeee!"

"Kill it!"

"Flaming Hand!"

"Blizzard!"

Panic overruled the Tower Mages' better judgement. The majority of them were Acolytes untested by the horror of mortal combat. The Maguses and the veterans instinctively instructed the junior to retreat as the dark tide approached.

Ferris' eyes swelled with disgust and horror. She'd been holding a Power Word Pain, but with Elizabeth sheltered within her Egg, there was nothing she could do in the circumstance.

"Wall of Magma!"

It was Julia, her protege from Rosebay, who acted first, shielding her companions and Magister Ferris with a wave of her hand. The glowering walls of fire and molten stone sliced the torrent of darkly crawling worms in half, broiling them as they blindly sought passage.

"Good work, Julia!"

"Magister, we need to retreat!"

"Walken! What's the plan?"

He measured their dire circumstance with a withering look. "Retreat and regroup. Detach the platform. Don't let those things touch you!"

The Mages erected barriers and shields as they retreated. Even so, some of them were too slow for the swarm that covered the floor and ceiling, a milling mass of wiggling darkness that contrasted sickeningly against the sterile white walls.

A zealous Abjurer who'd been shielding his Evoker companion became smothered by a ball of the dark worms that fell from the ceiling. His face of disgust quickly transformed into one of unmitigated horror. Like a gutted pig, the man screamed and screamed while the worms dug into his flesh, slithering wetly under his skin. "AARRRRrgheeeee!"

The emanated cry was inhuman. Within a few horrid seconds, the Abjurer collapsed upon the floor, the dark worms bursting from the sockets of his eyes and birthing anew from his desiccated, wilting flesh.

Another Mage, a Transmuter who had found himself engulfed, howled with horror as the worms entered him. "No! Master, save me!"

Walken fired off a volatile blast of air. The Acolyte's head exploded like a crushed melon. "To the Platform!" he commanded the survivors, "Jump! Feather Fall if you have to!"

He cursed the excessive security of the Mage Tower. For the protection of its inhabitants, the Tower had been made so that intra-teleportation within it was impossible. Instead, translocation was accomplished through Teleportation Circles that formed an intra-net within the Tower's infrastructure. Likewise, though Levitation and Feather Fall was unrestricted, Flight and other means of aerial locomotion were severely limited within the Tower's airspace, both internally and externally.

From where they stood, Henry's Grot rested atop a tubular passage point to the zenith of the Tower. It was accessed by a slow-moving levitation platform that ensured there would be no surprises awaiting the Magister in the event of an invasion. Usually, the Magister teleported into and from the Tower by using a Circle located at the platform's base station. Now, they were sitting ducks.

Slowly, the disk descended.

Even so, the lamprey worms fell from the platform in the hundreds. They did not fade or dissipate. From the greasy motes of Conjuration mana that emitted from these creatures, Walken woefully acknowledged these must be Elizabeth's Familiar. Though exceedingly rare, it was not unheard of for Mages to acquire hive-mind Familiars. It was a matter of affinity, as the concentration and mana required for such a summons was impossible for all but the most talented of Conjurers.

What frightened Walken was that the Void woman could form a near-invulnerable Abjuration shield while concurrently manifesting hundreds and thousands of the lamprey worms. How the hell were they supposed to defeat an enemy like that?

Abjuration, Evocation, and Conjuration, Walken prayed that these schools were all Elizabeth had mastered, for they were already outclassed and outmatched. Had the manuscripts not expressly stated that Void Casters were glass cannons, heavily limited by the drain upon their vitality? Why was this Elizabeth unperturbed by the effects of Negative Energy drain?

"Sir, the platform is overloading!"

The levitating disk was not designed to hold three dozen Mages at once. Its magic groaned and spluttered as the terrified casters piled onto the metal platform, forcing it to list dangerously.

"Sir, look out!" an Acolyte cried.

Walken's Ring of Evasion activated, aiding his movement as he dived from the edge of the platform onto the disk, narrowly avoiding a clump of the worms that had sought to satisfy their insatiable hunger.

"Couatl!"

A flash of brilliant silvery mana manifested a Winged Serpent three metres tall, almost filling the chamber from the ceiling to the descending levitating platform. Its wings were a splay of changing hues, multicoloured and resplendent. Its draconic head opened its maw to reveal a row of razor-sharp teeth laid end to end like a line of glinting daggers.

"Lightning Breath!"

The celestial pseudo-Dragon distended its jaw and let loose a line of electricity that expanded as it travelled through the mass of darkness, clearing a blighted path that penetrated the swarm until it struck Elizabeth's dark egg.

To his surprise, rather than the expectant, all-consuming ripple, the line of electricity struck the Void shield as though it were a solid object, fracturing its fragile shell as the explosive energy ravaged its surface.

"Lightning! It's vulnerable to Lightning!" Walken shouted jubilantly to the others. They needed a Lightning Mage! His thoughts exalted until it rested upon Gwen Song, following which he cursed vehemently under his breath. Was that why the Void woman had stolen Gwen Song away?

Another stray thought struck his fancy. Had Henry Kilroy been cultivating Gwen Song not for her Void abilities, but for her Lightning? Had the old man foreseen this day and knew the importance of having Elemental Lightning at their disposal?

Walken's epiphanic thoughts were interrupted by a wave of malice emanating from within the now shattered egg, a sliver of darkness, too quick for his eyes to follow, shot from the shadows.

Before Walken could even react, his chest exploded. Empathic pain from his Familiar engulfed him. He forced himself to concentrate. His eyes caught the horrific sight of his Couatl, pinned to the white walls by a dark blade three metres in length. The vorpal sword had penetrated the armour of the pseudo-Dragon easily, cutting a dark gash from its navel to the chest. Dark, draconic blood painted the surrounding stones, showering the Mages in crimson rain.

"Aella!" Walken urged his Familiar to dematerialise. Unexpectedly, he felt rapid fatigue coming on, preventing his command from reaching his summoned companion. A sense of vertigo and exhaustion indicated that he had been negatively drained. Desperately, he redoubled his efforts to retract his contracted beast into the safety of its pocket dimension.

The Couatl finally relented after an excruciating eternity, dissipating into loose motes of quicksilver Conjuration mana.

"We don't have any Acolytes with Lightning," Ferris announced miserably after a quick headcount. "Gwen Song was the only one. Prince's and Riverview have a few, but I doubt they'd loan us their kids for a suicide mission. Chances are they've already evacuated inland."

Walken felt at his wit's end.

"Master!" A chorus of voices called out in alarm.

Walken and Ferris looked up from their platform to see a tide of darkness descending upon them. The worm swarm reached critical mass and was now a roving, unstoppable expanse that cascaded toward them like an oil spill. Behind the swarm, whipping the barb-tongued lampreys forward into a feeding frenzy, was Elizabeth, her white skin smothered with bloated, leech-like creatures that pulsed with unholy vitality. She had an expression that implied she was curious as to what they would do, like a cat watching mice at play.

Walken's face turned pale. His voice, however, took on a sterner tenor. "I am going to stall them with Reverse Gravity," he announced. "Disable the platform and free fall to the bottom, find Gunther and inform the others. Tell them I was wrong."

"Eric…"

"Hey, I don't plan on dying here." Walken flashed a contingency ring on his finger. "You don't think she can kill me within a split second, do you—”

WHOOMP—TSSSSSS!

Before Ferris could respond, a blast of light so bright as to burn a white shadow within their disbelieving retinas penetrated the walls of the levitation passage. With a deafening screech, the lamprey creatures burned and sizzled until they withered to motes of Void dust, becoming harmless specks that quickly faded into nothingness.

From a still smouldering passage came a radiant figure whose aura filled all present space. Gunther Shultz's robe was ripped and torn, his face caked with mud and blood, but none of that seemed to detract from his Demi-god presence.

"Eric Walken, this is not the place for you to die," the Paladin announced grimly, his resonate voice like the voice of Metatron. "You must survive; for after the Master's murderer lies dead and buried, you will face me."

It wasn't without irony that Walken welcomed the Paladin’s arrival. A roar of ragged cheers broke from the surviving Mages, hollering Gunther's name as the tide of darkness receded to the top of the platform and dared not venture closer. From below, they could see the shadowy, silhouetted form of Elizabeth regarding them coldly from her vantage point, the whiteness of her pale skin juxtaposed against the sea of writhing shadow that crawled on every surface.

Suddenly, he felt beset by every emotion. "As you wish, Paladin," he declared with a bitter smile upon his lips. "As long as the Tower is safe, I am yours to do with as you see fit."

Gwen welcomed the cold, hard, rocky gravel.

Her journey through the muted vacuum of the Void had taught her to treasure each mote of light. It was as Joni Mitchell had sung, that you didn't know what you had until it was gone. She began to understand why Caliban desperately desired to be manifested in the material realm. The Void was a place of nothing—no sound, no light, no presence; it was like existing within a vacuum. Having spent even a micron of a split second within that dreadful place, Gwen felt diminished, lessened, curtailed in proportion.

When she tried to stand, the sand prison that had bound her contracted, once again sending her into a convulsive fit. The pain brought back the urgency of her most recent memories.

Her Master! Her mentor! Her saviour! The wizened old Magister simply wanted to repent, to find the goodness that his wife had taken from him so long ago. He had told Gwen that she was his redemption! She was going to be his Apprentice, inherit his legacy!

And Alesia.

And Yue.

And Elvia.

Even Whetu.

Gwen couldn't believe that they were just… gone.

With a vicious sense of self-abandonment, she pulled at her constraints, feeling the sand digging into her skin, cutting into her sinews, abrasively biting into her pale flesh as she thrashed. The agony that had paralysed her before was no obstacle to her desire to lash out, to escape her bondage so that she could visit terrible vengeance against Debora.

"Gwen, you'll hurt yourself." A worried voice intoned huskily beside her.

Her dishevelled face, half-covered by her chaotic, blood-matted hair, looked up to see the object of her fury standing no more than a few metres away!

"I'll fucking kill you!" Gwen cried, her speech hoarse with rage. Her comely face was a mask of distorted fury, her eyes two glowing orbs of swirling darkness. Motes of Void matter coursed through her body, feeding off her emotions. "Caliban!"

The netherworld serpent slinked into existence beside Gwen, its serpentine body growing thick and muscular as it gluttonously fed off Gwen's life-force.

"Fuck her up!" Gwen commanded, forcing herself through the pain of the sand prison's constraint. "Tear her apart!"

"Shaa! Shaa!" Caliban rapidly expanded in size. It coiled its body and launched itself towards Debora, its lamprey's mouth overflowing with grey, globular saliva.

"Banish!" With a singular incantation from Debora, Caliban dematerialised, becoming dormant in his pocket dimension. Gwen reeled, barely capable of breathing.

"Don't summon Caliban again," Debora advised Gwen with a face full of concern, a look that enraged her further. "You're already hurt."

With a violent tug, Gwen was launched backwards, falling onto her buttocks as the sand reshaped itself to restrain her. With Caliban having taken its pound of flesh from her already weakened vitality, she felt no longer capable of wrestling the pull of the shifting sand. In a moment, her face now faced upwards, staring into the liquid, amber eyes of Debora, gazing down upon her with the same expression she’d had that night in the desert when Gwen had gifted her with the very Spirit that she now used to keep her prisoner.

"Debora," Gwen forced the words from her throat, half choked with fury, half-blinded with teeth-grating rage. "Why?"

It wasn't a question asked out of despair or spite. It was a genuine enquiry as to why someone Gwen had thought a friend and an ally, a confidant with whom she had spent a year of her life, would turn upon her so viciously and without reason.

Was it because she had refused Debora's advances? That was absurd. Gwen couldn't even consider that possibility. If so, then why had Debora betrayed them? Was it as Walken had said, that Debora wanted to win his favour, to become his Apprentice? That made no sense either because she’d seen Debora kneeling before Elizabeth as a willing sycophant. Was Debora glamoured? Was she still dominated from that time in the forest, during the Field Trip? That was another baseless conjecture; no spell lasted that long, and even if it had, how could it have escaped Henry, Alesia, Gunther and the myriads of detection spells active within the Tower's confines?

Debora no longer had that expression of servitude which she'd retained when standing before Elizabeth. Her face was now alive with emotion, so mixed as to be unreadable, changing with each passing second, alternating between tribulation and triumph.

"Why?" Debora said in that husky voice of hers. "It's because I need you, Gwen."

The absurd answer compelled Gwen to pull at her restraints haplessly. The collar around her neck, however, had been loosened enough so that she could speak. Turning her head, Gwen seized the opportunity to take in her surroundings.

A distant building loomed with intimate familiarity—a cathedral that was battered and dilapidated, its precious stained glass shattered by the stress of combat. Had the rest of the Rosebay girls escaped to safety? Were they still holed up in the catacombs? But such worries were worthless for now, her immediate crisis loomed in the shape of a psychotic Debora Jones.

"Don't be absurd, Debora," Gwen spoke with an edge of frost. Now that she had been taken far away from the Tower, from the pressure of those all-powerful presences vying for dominance, she could once again hear herself think. All she needed was an opportunity, and she could turn the situation around. "If you love me so much, then why did you betray me?"

"It was the only way to save you," Debora replied.

Gwen swallowed. The two girls exchanged a measured look, Debora's eyes were patient, while Gwen felt torn between disbelief, vexation, and exasperation.

"No. I want the truth, Debora. If you're going to kill me, at least tell me the truth."

"I don't want to kill you, Gwen. I want you alive and well."

"What does that even mean!?" Gwen uttered in frustration. "Who are you, Debora Jones? What are you after?"

"I just wanted you, Gwen. Nothing else."

"Shut up!" Gwen was howling now, Debora's tomfoolery boiling her already risen blood. Her head felt swollen and nauseated, her cheeks flushed salmon-pink. "Don't play coy with me! Do you seriously expect me to believe that you did all of this because of jealousy? Because of some green-eyed monster?" Debora would not understand the reference, but Gwen didn't care. "Tell me the truth! If you're going to do your worst, at least give me the mercy of knowledge. I want to know why I died."

"The truth?"

"The truth," Gwen huffed breathlessly.

"Alright,' Debora replied. "The truth." Her flesh began to change and shift, her mien becoming indistinct, as like the shift of uncertain colour caught between hues. A distinct swirl of Void mana flowed over her skin like dark ink.

Gwen watched with abject horror, her once livid face now blank and agog. Debora had ceased to be, replaced instead by a 'face' that was androgynous, white and hideous, whose pale, sunken cheeks were the likeness of weatherworn quattrocento statues.

He, she or it, had a long, asymmetrical face that was small and sharply structured, with high cheekbones and large oval eyes that gave her an impression of an ethereal, otherworldly presence. The nose especially was short, squat and half-formed. Where Debora had a figure that was athletic and full-figured, this creature was anorexic and hollow-cheeked. Debora's enchanted Earthen robes resized slowly, tightening until it encompassed her new form.

"What are you?"

"My mother calls me the Faceless one," Faceless replied without a particular inflexion to her tone. There was no gender that Gwen could discern, not that the circumstances could have compelled her to ask such a trivial question. For the moment, that Faceless had been Debora, and thus was a girl, should suffice.

"Your mother?" Gwen inquired, though she had an inkling as to whom the creature's progenitor may be.

"Yes, the woman you call Elizabeth."

"That means…"

"Indeed." Faceless smiled weakly, revealing broken, twisted teeth that were filthy and yellowing. "My mother has just taken my father's life."

"That's impossible," Gwen mouthed, her mind in such shock that she had even ceased struggling. "Henry said Elizabeth had a miscarriage."

"So she did," Faceless affirmed. Her grey pupils were two disks of milky cataracts. "When you traffic in the element of consumption, your body no longer becomes capable of bearing life."

Gwen felt her breath catch in her throat. The implications of what Faceless had just told her struck her like a bolt from the blue. It wasn't something she'd considered before, even in her previous life, but the opportunity had always been something she'd taken for granted. "Then how are you…"

"I'd be happy to tell it." Faceless replied, "but first, I want to make you an offer."

Gwen gazed upon Faceless' malformed mien. Though her mind was a chaotic mess, a sliver of clarity escaped. Now that the moment of fevered rage had passed, she felt the cool collection of rationality again suffuse her thoughts. She may be trapped and helpless, but it was clear that Faceless wanted something from her that required her cooperation.

Her mind raced. When the present gave no alternatives, then the only option was to stall; for opportunities only died when one ceased to hope.

Chapter forty-two

The Worst are Full of Passion

“Fine." Gwen spat vehemently. "I'll hear you out, but first answer my questions."

Faceless nodded with a mannerism Gwen was used to seeing in Debora's face. In contrast to her now alien appearance. The effect was extremely unsettling.

"Where's Debora? The real Debora, I mean."

Faceless pointed to her chest. "If you mean her body, her morphic form, she's in here." She looked Gwen in the eyes delicately. "If you mean the girl you knew, she is gone."

Gwen had anticipated as much. But even so, the confirmation caused a distressing contraction in her chest, made worse by the fact that she couldn't move her limbs or stretch her torso.

"When?"

"When do you suppose?" Faceless returned Gwen's inquiry with a question of her own.

Gwen searched through her memories of Debora. "During the training?"

"Earlier."

"Before our time in the desert?" Gwen intoned bitterly. Those were happy memories. It was in the desert that Debora had tried to kiss her. The very thought that it could have been Faceless the whole while shook Gwen to her very core.

"Yes, before that."

Gwen instantly felt ill. She suppressed the acid reflux in her oesophagus, then took a moment to temper her riotous emotions. So, it wasn't Debora who'd kissed her. It wasn't Debora who'd invited her to bed. It had been this thing, this creature, all along.

All memories of Debora were exorcised from her mind. All the times they’d eaten together, laughed and joked, jogged around the school. All those memories, now mutilated by Faceless' confession. Where she'd thought kindly of Debora's cheerful face, Gwen now felt repulsive revulsion and repugnance with every recollection.

Stunned by the memories, she dug through the events and found the precise, disastrous moment. In hindsight, it was so glaringly obvious; the incident stood out like a red, weeping sore. "During the Field Trip, when you returned to us, in the bunker. You apologised, and I was surprised that you’d had a sudden change of heart."

Faceless smiled. "Bingo."

Gwen had to take another breather to process Faceless' confession. Lowering her head, she watched her chest rise and fall, rise and fall, breathing in and out. "What were you doing there? Were you already Debora when Edgar found us?"

"I was."

"You were pretending to be Dominated? He'd cast a spell on you."

"Edgar didn't know, but yes, I was pretending. I've seen it done many times before. It wasn't difficult to act the part."

"But he injured Debora! He drained her life!"

"He certainly didn't hold back. If he'd gone too far, I was going to tell him, but then that would have ruined my plans."

"Your plans?"

"Yes, one that far exceeds Edgar's mad dog antics," Faceless' expression was difficult to read. "Though I was Edgar's partner, my ultimate role was to infiltrate Henry's inner circle, to uncover my father's habits, his schedules, his likes and dislikes, his moments of strength and weakness."

Faceless' face began to change again, becoming a middle-aged man with a greying beard. Her voice became deeper until it transformed into a baritone. "I was Alesia's Tower liaison first. I'd assumed control of this body and was using Alesia to try and penetrate Henry's faction. I'd leak her information from the other Factions, the deals that the Grey Faction was making, the experiments carried out by the Militant Faction.

"There was a problem, though. Alesia never thought of me as a member she could trust or value, and thus the doors to the inner circle were always closed to me. I suppose that even though she was so simple-minded, she instinctively knew not to trust a turncoat, especially one who professed their undying loyalty."

"Why Debbie?" Gwen demanded bitterly. "She had nothing to do with Master. She had nothing to do with any of this."

"It was a whim at first," Faceless replied with a tone that smacked of nostalgia. "I found her in the woods, wandering and clueless. She was an uncommonly comely girl, and I liked to collect spare forms. As a polymorphic shapeshifter, one never knows when a form will become useful."

"That's it?" Gwen's voice cracked a little. "She died on a whim?"

Faceless was relentless. "Yes. People have died for lesser reasons. What makes Debora special?"

"Then what? You came sauntering back into camp?"

"I did. You may be pleased to know that in Debora's final moments, her thoughts were of her family and you."

"Me?"

"Yes, the old Debora possessed powerful feelings for you, even if they were ambivalent. Feelings that I inherited when I took her body."

"How does that even work?" Gwen questioned angrily. "That's not how Polymorph functions!"

"Yet for you and me, that's exactly how it works." Faceless raised a hand to pull at his or her face. A film of darkened Void energy began to emerge, dissolving the face's physical form until he became a dark and indistinct silhouette. The dark mound of flesh that was Faceless' mien changed shape as the density of her body became fuller, taller, more toned and shapely—becoming Debora.

Debora with her bright, amber eyes full of life. Debora with her bronze, youthful limbs, sweaty after an uphill sprint. Debora, with her vivacious passion, with every emotion written on her face.

"Let's talk like this," Faceless continued in Debora's voice. "I am not… fond of my original body, I am uncomfortable in my skin."

The fiend recounted their earlier topic and continued. "My Polymorphy is a condition of the body, unique to my Void Magic. If you are willing, I'd be happy to teach it to you. Imagine it, Gwen, you could be anyone you want to be."

"So you're a body thief," Gwen accused the pseudo-Debora.

"Something like that. If you must know, I was far more interested initially in your body."

Gwen felt her skin crawl.

"Why the surprise? Think of it, Gwen. You were the perfect candidate. A dark horse with no background, no allies, no Faction and no House, a tabula rasa! You were perfect as an instrument for infiltration. You had prodigious talent, you had caught the eye of Alesia de Botton, and you had virtually no friends apart from that healer and the Fire Mage."

Gwen chose not to meet Faceless' eyes as her cadence became more pronounced and excited. "If I could have gotten some time alone with you in the confusion of Edgar's ploy, then…"

"That's enough," Gwen muttered. "Why did you stop?"

"As I said, I had inherited many of Debora's strongest memories and emotions. The girl was obsessed, and through Debbie, I found something that I had not felt myself, not in all the years I'd taken the faces of others. I found myself deeply interested, Gwen Song. Your vivacity, your lust for life, your intelligence and your whimsical speeches. Most of all, when I saw what you did to Edgar in that cave, I realised something."

"What was that?"

"We were meant to be."

"You disgust me."

Faceless chuckled. "Ha! How many Void casters do you think exist in this world? Mother was one; I, another. I have never seen others. Could you try to understand, even for a second, what it's like to know that you're different, a loner, a singular existence, forever alone, then suddenly, you find someone who is just like you?"

"We're not the same!" Gwen snapped.

"Oh, but we are." Faceless grinned sickly. "Do you not enjoy Caliban's powers? His meals gave you the ability to be Abjurer, Diviner, Evoker and Conjurer. Did you not feel that unmitigated hunger that could find no nourishment in nature? Do we not share a world where our secrets could never see the light, shareable only with one another?"

"That's not true!" Gwen spat. "I never asked for this!"

The retort seemed to anger Faceless. The fiend's face grew distorted and loathful. "You think I asked for this?!" she howled at Gwen. Her face was a mask of pain and fury. "You think I wanted to be born like this?"

Her form shifted again, this time reconstructing her entire body into the darkness of the Void, consuming the elemental garb Debora had been wearing. When her body once again materialised, she was stark naked. Gwen saw a figure mangled with scar tissues, its flesh pallid and grey.

Faceless' anorexic, malformed body compelled Gwen to shudder, for one limb was longer than the other, its stem gangly and bat-like. When her gaze fell upon Faceless' chest, there was a slight swelling that indicated aborted puberty. When her eyes fell lower, she saw naught but an indistinct mess of ambiguous flesh.

"Life does not take when surrounded by so much death—when prolonged to the Void." Faceless ran a finger down her chest, down to her belly button, where a small length of knotted flesh had welted over. "My mother certainly didn't think I'd survive, though thanks to her boundless curiosity for testing the limitations of her consumption ability, I acquired life through the unwilling sacrifices of others. Gwen," Faceless asked mercilessly. "Do you think I asked for this?"

Gwen's first instinct was to apologise, but the impulse caught in her throat. Faceless had murdered her friends and her Master! She couldn't summon the empathy to feel an ounce of sorrow for the aberrant being.

Faceless resumed Debora's form, though now she was stark naked. The sight was such mockery, for it reminded Gwen of that precarious night in Surya's country estate. "Now are you ready to hear my offer?"

Gwen subtly strained against her bindings. They were still well secured, but as Faceless grew emotional with each new diatribe, she could feel them loosening and tightening. Should she listen? She didn't have a choice, did she?

"Tell me, how did you turn Walken? Why does he think that you're on his side?"

Faceless crossed Debora's arms. "When you and I returned to school, I sought opportunities to get closer to you. Why do you think we kept meeting one another on our morning jogs? I knew that you would have taken that route." Faceless' cadence resumed its hypnotic drone as she became absorbed in the telling of their history. She could see from Debora's face that the shapeshifter truly enjoyed, even cherished, those memories. She spoke of her experiences as Debora as her own, not the stolen moments of a body snatcher.

"At any rate, I needed to get closer to you somehow. If I couldn't kill you, then I must somehow get closer to you using the identity of this girl. The original Debora was such a hapless, untalented Transmuter; a waste of her affinity. She was a brute, lacking the finesse required for high-tier Transmutation.

"At any rate, I supplemented her Transmutation abilities and managed to get Barlett to secure work experience under a particularly 'renowned' but seedy Transmuter."

"My grandfather," Gwen replied. If there was a single silver lining to the Mermen invasion, it was that the inland areas were entirely unaffected. Whatever happened to the coast, Surya and his apprentices would be safe to evacuate at their leisure.

"Indeed, I became a good student under Master Surya, though I must say, your grandfather was awfully handsy."

Gwen did not find the humour in Faceless' jocular jab at her opa.

"When we received news of the whole Mark Chandler ordeal, I volunteered, citing falsely to your grandfather what close chums we'd been at school. The old man was beyond pleased with our relationship and didn't even give a second thought to bringing me to comfort you."

"Then, to my surprise, and mortification, I met my target. I was finally in the same room as Henry Kilroy—my damned father."

Gwen recalled the day and felt regret pressing down upon her conscience.

"To meet my father for the first time… I couldn't take my eyes off him. I stared at him, you know, dreaming of what could have been. He was so kind to you, Gwen, so full of love and support, all the things that I'd never received from Mother.

That's why I propose that we share another bond, Gwen. It is too late for me, but through you, I could live the life I always wanted. A life of being pampered and guided by a father who'd expected great things from me."

"You're sick," Gwen retorted, but her riposte was without venom. The recollection of Henry's kindness struck her with sorrows that cut to the bone.

"After we left Chandler’s, I sent a Message with a lumen recording to Walken. After that, we spent our wonderful summer together. When we kissed…"

"Shut up!" Gwen interjected. "Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!"

Faceless waited until Gwen could collect herself. "Mother had been feeding him information for some time, snippets here and there that would turn him against Henry. Even the exchange he had suffered from with Alesia de Botton a few years ago was our doing.

"When I returned to the Tower next, I sought out Walken in person. In exchange for his promise to elevate my position, to sponsor me for a scholarship at the Arcanum of Sydney, he placed me in a Truth chamber, where he 'verified' certain parts of my memory. He was an Enchanter, you know, but his methods lacked finesse. When the man was satisfied, he sent me away, tasked with gathering more evidence, and that was when you'd invited us to go on your Outback adventure. Do you know what was funny?"

"What?" Gwen tested the restraints again.

"Of all the times, it was when you were doing that sweat-drenched nude dance with those filthy Indigenous folks that I was truly in danger. Since I was Edgar's partner during that incident, that damned snake knew who I was the instant it manifested in you. Remember that bolt of power you shot at the tent? I knew it was coming. I had to set up a decoy and blink into the river! Thank God the serpent was a primordial simpleton, else it could have told you the truth."

Almudj! Gwen's mind blazed with renewed hope. The Rainbow Serpent! If what Faceless said was true, then surely Almudj would come to her rescue. If she could tap into the scale…

Gwen felt a sudden, sinking feeling. Where was the scale? She had placed it on Henry to help him heal. With the Grot evaporated into thin air, so had her scale. Once more, cold despair wash over her shivering body.

"As for the rest, it was easy. I kept feeding Walken bits and pieces of maligned information taken from my memory—either work I had done with Edgar or work I'd performed for mother. Together with Henry's steadfast support, Walken was fully convinced that you were a family of Void Mages treating the Tower like your demesne, its people like cattle.

"The rest, you should be able to figure out yourself. Walken had Messaged me, telling me to take you into custody. I'd done so, but it wasn't for his benefit."

"How did Elizabeth get into the Grot?"

"I shared Ferris' Glyph with Mother," Faceless shrugged, suggesting that much should be obvious. "I learned the key when Ferris gave it to Paul. It was a complex Glyph, but hardly an octogramic Mandala. As for the Grot, as long as Sufina was dormant, it wasn’t capable of rejecting intruders, at least not ones who were friendly to the Grot's 'inhabitants'."

"So that's the long and short of it," Gwen said finally.

"Indeed."

Though they had conversed for some time, no one had appeared to accost them; no wandering soul had been shocked to find a stark-naked girl standing over another, bound wrist and ankle tied by a prison of sand. Gwen was hoping that at the very least, there would be Mermen present to distract Faceless.

"Are you ready to listen to my offer?" Faceless asked, her voice now edged with impatience. "There's only so much time before mother finishes the Mages up there."

"Go on."

"I want us to be partners."

"Impossible!" The very thought was aberrant.

"Shut up, listen, and don't interrupt me." Faceless tightened the sand around her, cutting off her protest. "Gwen, you have a talent that few can boast of possessing. You may not truly know it, but only Void can truly defend against Void. With your abilities, you could one day stand up to even Mother, assuming you're given the time to grow.

"Furthermore, you even have the impossible boon of possessing Lightning, the very element that opposes, and indeed dispels, spells of the Void. This means that if you were to survive this ordeal, you could one day become someone who even mother will fear. In a duel of power, she wouldn't be able to penetrate your Abjuration shields, but you can fracture her defences with Lightning. Do you understand what I am telling you?"

Gwen nodded despite herself. Once again, her position and circumstance had become uncertain.

"For that, I am willing to spare your life. I am offering to become your protector, your shield against Mother's wrath until you can take her down, freeing the both of us."

Faceless' offer made sense, but Gwen felt all the unwillingness in the world assail her. "I…" The words caught in her throat. She wanted to tell Faceless to go and fuck herself, that as Yue had promised, she was going to make Faceless feel pain and suffering in a way that the aberrant being couldn't even begin to imagine.

Yet Gwen was no saint. She wanted to live. How much had she endured since coming to this world? How could she just let it end here?

What if she said yes? The very notion was sickening to her.

The faces of her friends and family flashed before her eyes. Yue, whose animated china-doll face was forever mirthful and burning with passion. Elvia, whose very presence was an angel that was a balm for her soul. Alesia, whose fiery temper and desire for justice burned as hot as her scarlet flame. Henry, whose kind eyes and old hands guided her every step in this alien world.

No. She couldn't possibly agree. Sometimes, death was preferable to cowardice. Sometimes, the line had to be drawn—this far, and no further. "I refuse—"

Just as Gwen sought to deliver her ultimatum, a ripple of nauseating energy expanded like a concentric ring from above. An explosion sundered the heavens, interrupting their moment of truth. The Tower, which had been invisible some half an hour ago, became visible, hanging languishingly above in the blue yonder. A billowing dust cloud erupted from its tallest Tower, sending down cascading pieces of stone the size of skyscrapers.

Something began to materialise atop the fallen spire. A dark sun. A black hole was sucking in all light, with thick tendrils of Void matter that lashed out as though they were alive.

Faceless turned to Gwen, her face no longer patient and willing. "Make the decision now," she snarled at her. "What'll it be, Gwen Song?"

Gwen met her enemy vis-a-vis, her ochre-hazel eyes glowing with concentric rings of electric blue. "Fuck your offer," she spat. "Do your worst."

To Gwen's surprise, Debora's face lost all emotion. "Fine, have it your way."

Debora's likeness melted away as Faceless once again turned black and ambiguous, taking on the property of the indistinct Void. The creature lowered its face toward Gwen's, as if ready to deliver a full-mouthed kiss. Its sour breath washed over her face as its maw opened to reveal yellowing teeth. "Maybe it's better this way," Faceless intoned emotionlessly. "We'll be together, whether you like it or not."

Chapter forty-three

Reeling Shadows of Desert Birds

Gwen had yet to be on the receiving end of a Void consumption.

She had tried to imagine herself in the place of its victims after Caliban had had its day. As horrid as the creature's methods were, the process was at least expeditious. A quick look into the abyss of its maw and its victims were out of sight, out of mind.

She had thought the same for her present fate, imagining that Faceless' polymorphic spell would swallow her with a slurp. There would be a quick moment of limbo, much like an ethereal jaunt through the Void, then nothing.

Unfortunately, Faceless' magic was the slow and meticulous kind.

Looming over her bound body, the unintelligible, dark silhouette began by tearing away a section of her blouse, exposing her white, porcelain abdomen.

A dark and viscous liquid began to weep from Faceless' gnarly hands, reducing them to stumps. It dripped onto Gwen's stomach with the likeness and texture of soft wax.

Gwen watched with trembling horror as obsidian ooze kissed her abdomen. She recoiled, her jaw clenching with such revulsion that it jarred her teeth. When she caught her breath, she attained the petrifying epiphany that this was how Faceless had planned to assimilate her. There wasn't pain. Instead, what she felt was akin to a strange form of anaesthesia.

"Arrgh… Aah…" Gwen moaned despite herself. The alien agitation of losing her perception of touch was far more terrifying than the nerve-pinching pain she had anticipated. Against her most ardent wishes, she began to whimper.

Gwen had not wanted to give Faceless the pleasure, but how could she resist in the circumstances? It wasn't as though she was an agent trained to resist torture and interrogation. It was only when the adrenaline of the moment began to wane that Gwen recalled she had been merely an NoM in her old world and a mere student in this world, an untested girl living under the protective shadow of her betters.

When Faceless ignored her pleading, she began to thrash incoherently, attempting to throw off the oily substance attaching itself to her abdomen, to grab a fistful of the gravel and rub it into the numbing wound that was even now expanding.

"Hold still," Faceless commanded. "I don't want to damage my new body any more than I have to."

Within moments, Faceless' morphic liquid had reached her diaphragm. Gwen felt her heaving chest deflate, the musculature unwillingly relaxing as parts of its nervous structure lost their connection to her body.

No longer capable of speech, Gwen's mind made the worst of its circumstance. What would happen when the oily film reached her breast, penetrated her heart? Would she quietly fall into cardiac arrest? Could she be thankfully deceased before Faceless moved onto her brain, devoured her face?

Gwen thought of the others she had inadvertently consumed. One woman had screamed and screamed until Caliban had dug through her chest and mercifully put an end to her suffering. Another man watched, laughing maniacally as the netherworld worm began with his feet.

Now here she was, enduring the same fate.

What was it as Doyle had written for Holmes? That violence recoils upon the violent and that the schemer falls into the pit which he digs for another?

Gwen's still functional fingers clawed the ground, searching for something, anything, her nails splintered as they raked the loose gravel, leaving bloody trails across the sand-tossed gravel. There must be something she could do! She couldn't give up now! She had to resist and fight! She would antagonise Faceless until the dark slick consumed the last mote of light in her eyes.

She willed herself to open her Gate of Elemental Lightning, to form a Sigil, any Sigil, so that she could flood her body with the antithetical force, to flush the Void matter invading her physical form. She willed her Void energy to manifest, to take its liberty with her life force. She was willing to pay any cost if it meant freeing herself from the confines of the silica manacles cutting her wrists bloody and raw.

But no silvery mana of Conjuration emanated from her body, no crackle of Transmutation, no thunderous applause of Evocation. Though the mind was willing, her flesh was arrested and broken.

The oily film had now moved its way between her breasts, edging its way towards her neck. Already the vaguely humanoid form of Faceless was diminished, smaller; its volume and mass spent to consume Gwen's flesh and bones.

Gwen's Blackwattle blouse fell away, her inner shirt and undergarments consumed by the Void matter. She became exposed, her white flesh quivering against the briny air blowing from the open bay. All that remained upon her chest was the nondescript figure of a jade Kirin, tied around her neck with an ordinary red string.

The viscous black liquid hesitated as it met the jadeite, a natural material which was said to repel evil Spirits. Now exposed to the light of day, the Kirin's emerald surface became a translucent green, highlighting a composite membrane the likeness of a Haworthia's windowed flesh.

Feeling Faceless' hesitation, Gwen violently pushed herself upward, kicking out her legs, flagellating the skin from her wrists and ankles. A sharp, throbbing pain emanated from her lower limbs, indicating that in her wild exertion, she had distended something from its socket.

She felt Faceless's impatient frustration as she made her last-ditch struggle. With another nauseating wave of numbness consuming her thighs, her legs became still. The pain from her injured limb faded as Faceless ploughed on with passionate intensity, consuming the nerves of her lower body, while above her waist, it began to reach for her throat.

Gwen felt the paralysis flow over her chest. Her neck fell limp, and her head rested helplessly against the gravel. This was it. In the end, no one had come to save her.

Did she have a good run? Was she satisfied with the life she had?

No. Gwen was not satisfied.

She wanted life.

She wanted to hug Elvia and rub her face into her flaxen blonde hair.

She wanted to go on more adventures with Yue, hear her undisguised laughter.

She wanted to marvel at Alesia's antics, sharing a Muscato while overlooking the harbour.

She wanted to see if Gunther would ever relent and give in to Alesia.

She wanted to become the kind of Mage that she'd promised Henry, the militant pacifist, the Justiciar who lived by her own rules.

Gwen no longer believed that death was a way out, that it could be preferable to suffering. If she were to die, it would be by her terms, performing a due that she owned and possessed.

Not like this. Not a worthless demise like this.

She wanted to live.

"I want to live!" Her desperate voice reverberated through the air like a clarion.

The twice-lived sorceress blinked, her torso suddenly filling with an unbidden heat. Warmth flowed from her chest, quietly smouldering as it invaded her conduits.

She could hear her heartbeat, a staccato iambic rhythm growing louder and louder. An emerald presence suffused her chest, becoming more powerful by the second.

Her eyes regained their clarity and focus. She looked down towards her bare bosoms, finding that her torso was no longer possessed by the black, viscous tar that was Faceless' consumption spell.

Faceless stared at the glowing jade pendant lying upon her chest, her cataract eyes wide with dumbfounded confusion.

Gwen felt a tingle as the emerald glow enveloped her. Where her skin had been consumed and eroded, it now began a rapid regeneration that pushed back the dark, oily tide. "Almudj?"

She smelled the eucalyptus-scented air, felt the flush of the golden noon, she sensed the cold waters of billabongs and the welcoming heat of burning red clay.

Faceless' consumptive polymorphic shell slid from Gwen's restored body as though she was a serpent shedding old skin. Like ferrofluids without the guidance of a magnetic field, the fiend's magic was failing spectacularly.

There was the sound of thunder rolling across a cloudless sky besotted by an evil sun.

"Usurper!" The thought fulminated beside Gwen's head, low as a deep quake.

"Yes, usurpers." Gwen heard herself reply. "Always so cheeky."

Faceless frantically retreated from her, trying to recollect the lost motes of its morphic form. The scattered fluid crawled towards its host like a swarm of army worms seeking shelter in numbers.

The motes of sand that had bound Gwen to the ground quivered with fear, helpless against an existence so ancient and primordial.

Gwen raised a pale white arm from the ground, flawless and unmarred by injury. Gone were the bloody abrasions that had flayed her wrists. Gone were the cuts and scrapes that ran the length of her elbows, sticky with sand and gravel. She pointed a delicate finger, its pink nail no longer torn at the base, toward Faceless.

"Sand Shield!" Faceless relented all efforts to consolidate its scattered parts. Instead, the half-formed creature crossed its arms and summoned a half-dome that sheltered its remaining body. It couldn't use a Void shield against her lightning, even Gwen could see that.

"Barbanginy!" Gwen called out to the heavens. A roar of cascading thunder answered her call, shattering a stained-glass window nearby, sending loose rubble cascading from ruined buildings.

A blade of green lightning shot from the heavens, ionised from thin air. It struck Faceless unerringly, utterly decimating its shield of Sand, cracking it with the likeness of a hammer falling upon a fragile egg. The force was such that a shockwave rippled from the epicentre, forcing the shapeshifter into the sunken ground. A concentric ring of dust billowed from where Gwen and Faceless stood, blasting apart the gravel and liquifying the silica below. The Sand Spirit that had attempted to shield Faceless flared a brilliant white before being blown apart by the force of the explosion, diffusing into a spray of white-hot glass.

Gwen willed herself to stand. Before her body even moved, a cushion of air levitated her from the ground, setting her gingerly on the rapidly cooling floor. She walked the few steps it took to approach a burnt-out crater in which Faceless squirmed.

When the smoke cleared, Gwen saw the pale, mangled, aberrant form of Henry's child, her Void magic utterly decimated by the blast of primordial lightning. Its already twisted body was now a mess of broken bones and hanging ligaments languishing in a pool of sizzling silica.

The creature coughed. Gwen was surprised to see that its blood was as red as hers.

"Forgot… about that… pendant." Faceless struggled to annunciate each word. Gwen could see several of its ribs poking from its torso. "So stupid. Yue even spoke about it."

"Don't you dare speak her name," Gwen warned the horrid thing.

It was a strange sight; their roles now reversed. A near-naked Gwen stared down at the paralysed form of the disabled Faceless.

"I wonder. Back then, if I had taken Elvia back then, would you—"

"Don't you dare speak any of their names!"

Gwen shot a spark of lightning which burned blue and green as it singed Faceless' chest, sending the already wounded creature into a convulsive death rattle.

She placed a hand on her amulet and felt the familiar energy of the Mythic pour from its interior. The Kirin pendant had been a gift from her father, a prize he had unwilling gifted. When she'd first met Henry, her Master had told her that it was the soul stone of a Kirin, though little else. Likewise, she had felt its effects many times in the past. It had taken in the dissipating energy of dying creatures whose soul-stone sundered upon death— but not once had the pendant saw fit to dispense its bounty to Gwen. After all the crises she had faced, she had forgotten about it entirely.

"I don't… suppose… you'll spare… me?" Faceless had taken on a strange cadence of speech. Gwen noted that it was because of its deformed jaws. Without its polymorphic spell active, even speaking seemed to be causing Faceless pain. "My… offer still… stands."

"Death is too good for you," Gwen said coldly, feeling a poetic epiphany manifesting within her mind.

The damned thing was responsible for the death of her Master, her friends, her family in this world. By that same measure, it had tried to consume her body! If it had succeeded, it would have masqueraded through the world in her form, wearing her skin like a sock puppet!

Gwen felt a sudden clarity compel her. She wanted to murder Faceless. She wanted the damned thing to suffer. The intensity of the desire frightened her. Were such thoughts untenable? Would Henry, who'd thought the world of her, be disappointed if his apprentice celebrated her cruelty?

Her old self would have shirked from her duty, hidden behind wise words of great men whose wisdom where ivory towers.

But not so now.

She thought of Henry, her Master, and the first time she'd impressed her kind mentor.

"The abuse of Greatness…" she had announced to him naively, thinking herself armoured in the sagacity of her old world. "… is when remorse is disjointed from power!"

But she felt no remorse now. It felt right. If anything was right in the world, it was this.

"Caliban!" she commanded, her banished creature appropriating its pound of flesh. To Gwen's pleasant surprise, the cost in vitality barely registered against the reservoir held within the Kirin pendant.

Caliban slithered into being, bloated and muscular, a sinuous blight upon the world. "Shaa! Shaa!" Caliban menaced the hapless Faceless. Its smooth carapace slid open with a silent hiss, sending globulars of grey goo sliding down its pulsating purple body. Its lampreys mouth opened to reveal its pink tentacled tongues, writhing within a mouth full of dagger-like teeth.

"Oh." Faceless chuckled, a mouthful of clotting blood issuing from its torn lips. "I told you we were alike! I told you., Gwen Song. We would be together. One way. Or another."

"Make it slow," Gwen commanded Caliban, her iron voice without an ounce of remorse.

Caliban slunk forward and began with Faceless' limbs. From there, it would proceed to the liver, the offal, the heart and finally, the sweetmeat that was its brain. While Faceless wailed, Gwen listened to the joyous music of her Familiar's wicked work.

Her gaze turned upward. A dark sun still floated over the horizon.

From beneath it, Gwen could see minute specks locked in aerial combat. There were flashes of radiance that indicated her brother-in-craft was locked in deadly battle.

She extended a hand and relented a portion of the protective, emerald energy. It was subtle, but her familiarity with the Void allowed her to feel it distinctly. The blighted light of the Black Sun was draining her life. It was barely perceptible, but it was there.

"Jesus Christ." She shuddered to think that if the spell covered all Sydney's metropolis, the number of souls feeding into it would range anywhere from two to three million. If a Mage such as her felt diminished by the life-drain, how long could an NoM last against the pseudo sun's insatiable celestial hunger?

Beside her, Caliban had almost finished its wicked work. The creature had done well, for Faceless had only expired in the second minute of its inexpert endeavour. When the serpent had finished the last vestige of its meal with a grotesque slurp, she recalled it.

Gwen felt no immediate changes to her Astral body, but she knew that her new boon would come. Concurrently, she would take Faceless' gift of Affinity and talent as interest.

She produced a simple one-piece dress from her Storage Ring and attired herself, all the while staring intently at the dark sun.

"Almudj," she closed her eyes and imagined the scintillating form of the serpent. "Will you help me?"

A violent gust of air swept her from the ground. Gwen lacked the means for Flight, but the elemental air nonetheless held her aloft. She took a deep breath and smothered the rampant emotions running through her disquieted mind.

Faceless was dead. She’d had her satisfaction now. But she was far from done.

It was time for Elizabeth Sobel to pay back her debt of blood.

When Morye Song finally arrived at Rosebay, it felt as though he had survived the twelve trials of Hercules.

He had begun the search for his daughter immediately, scouring the abandoned cathedral but finding nothing but the flotsam and jetsam of a hurried evacuation. He'd sought for her high and low through the school grounds, even venturing into the surrounding suburbs, but still, she was nowhere to be found.

Morye cursed Gunther Shultz. "The lying sack of shit!" he shouted at no one in particular. "Wasting my time! I could have evacuated to the inland shelters already!"

As if answering Morye's unbidden curse, there was a cacophony. The Tower materialised above.

"Oh, thank fuck!" Morye muttered to himself, taking a relieving drag from a cigarette he'd cooly lipped the whole while. "Finally, someone's doing their job."

As if mocking his relief, the spire of the Tower erupted, sending shockwaves across the sky. All around them, bits of masonry began to crumble into the city below.

"Ah, fuck!" he cursed. The cig he'd been nursing fell from his lips.

He watched the Tower smoke and burn. Thankfully, the fortress remained afloat.

Another explosion rocked its spire. A dark sun blossomed and began to shed a prismatic spray of inky Void, blighting the landscape. Instantly, the trees started to wilt, dropping leaves at an insane rate. Smaller flora such as perennial wildflowers withered immediately.

Morye quickly protected himself with a sheen of salt, preventing his life force from escaping his body. "Jesus, what is this, the Sino War? What's with the strategic-class rituals?"

Given the circumstances, he asked himself whether he'd done his best to search for his missing child. "A father can only do so much," he announced to no one in particular, confident that he had executed his duty to the fullest capacity. He was in a real-life crisis, after all, not a Lumen-cast propaganda recording. "Such is life."

Morye incanted a flight spell and again took to the air. He was about ready to launch from the peninsula when a burst of brilliant lightning emanated from the cloudless sky. He flew in circles until he found its source.

It was Gwen.

His daughter was stark naked and bare-breasted—a living Venus.

Morye quickly averted his eyes, feeling the awkwardness rise like an acute case of indigestion. "What the fuck?" He couldn't even begin to fathom why his daughter would be traipsing around a battlefield in the nude. He was just about to announce his awkward presence when a black serpent, more horrible than anything he'd seen since the war, materialised beside her.

"OH, FUCK!" He ducked for cover. "Seriously Gwen, who the fuck are you hanging around with?"

Then the thing began to eat. From Morye's vantage point, he could see that the netherworld worm was torturously consuming the paralysed Mage languishing in the burnt-out crater.

"Jesus! Shit!" Morye mouthed unconsciously, feeling ill at the sight of the live dismemberment. When the creature began to swallow and regurgitate the Mage for ease of eating, he hurled in his mouth. "Who does that? Seriously!"

Morye had to wash out his mouth before he felt ready to accost his wayward daughter about her inhuman cruelty. What had happened to his simpering, quiet, beautiful little girl in the last twelve months?

When had she become such a delinquent? The last time he saw her, she'd been entirely innocent and naive. What the hell had Henry Kilroy been teaching his daughter? He would have words, polite, but stern words, with the Magister. The old dog would get a piece of his mind!

Just as Morye was about to leap from cover to wag a critical finger at her face, his wayward daughter began to glow with a radiant, emerald energy. As Morye watched agog, she launched herself into the air, unaided by any spell, and made for the dark sun.

It took Morye several more minutes to process what he'd just witnessed. In the aftermath, the Salt Mage tapped his pockets and found another cigarette. He lit it and smoked, inhaling and exhaling contemplatively. "I am not even supposed to be working today."

Sometimes, he realised, a man should just be honest with himself. "Fuck it. I am out."

Alesia de Botton rapidly blinked through the Grot when she became displaced by the instability of the pocket dimension. The distortion caught her unaware, sending her barreling into a space caught between two places. To her understanding, the Grot was not a single space; it was an overlap. It existed in the Tower as the heart of Henry's domain as well as a Dryad's grove, located in one of the world's infamous Black Zones.

In his youth, her Master had sojourned to one such zone as a part of his quest. It was there that Henry had met a fledgeling Dryad, given her the name of Sufina, and contracted her to be his partner.

As for Sufina, Alesia had known the ageless Dryad since her troubled youth as a rebellious rabble-rouser. She had fond memories of sitting within the Grot, her thin legs dangling from a branch as she nursed a cup of golden mead. Whenever Alesia was hurt, the sympathetic Dryad would cradle her like a mother, its energetic presence mending her wounds both physical and otherwise.

Earlier, when she had finally orientated herself, the dimensional tethers were already quaking with instability. She looked for Henry, for Yue, for Gwen's friends. What she saw, however, was a distorted jumble of uncertain, malformed vision. The space of the Grot within the Tower was collapsing.

The implication fell upon Alesia like a Cone of Cold manifesting in her gut. Her chest felt as though a Telekinetic hand was attempting to extract her heart, arteries and all.

"Master…" she uttered despairingly, feeling herself ambushed by powerful, unbidden emotions.

In no plane, neither Astral, Elemental or Primary, had Alesia imagined that her deathless mentor could have met his end before she did. After all, she was the reckless one, the haphazard adventurer, the fiery madcap who'd seldom valued thought over action.

But tragedy seldom had the patience for sentimentality.

Unbidden, the air distorted.

"Blink!" It was all Alesia could do in the circumstances. The Blink spell, when channelled elementally, took one into a pocket dimension of its own, diving into the Elemental Plane of Fire before emerging once again into the Prime Material Plane.

When Alesia emerged again into the material realm, she was no longer in the Tower. She was falling fast, tumbling from the sky while the distant curvature of the earth appeared and disappeared from the edge of her vision. The forward momentum of her blink must have been converted into a downward thrust, for Alesia could hear the air whooshing fatalistically past her face.

"Flight!" She tried to levitate herself, somersaulting and corkscrewing wildly. The earth beneath her quickly approached. Before Alesia could terminate her momentum, she crashed into the line of trees. The first few impacts were gentle enough, sapling branches snapping under her weight. The next dozen raked her skin and beat her senseless, tossing her bodily to and fro as she ricocheted toward a carpet of pine needles.

She landed with an audible thunk, thankfully padded by the soft soil.

Her clothes were a shredded mess, her skin broken and bleeding. Her shoulders and thighs had become marred by brutal gashes, a stabbing pain within her torso that suggests a rib had found itself out of place.

For a moment, Alesia laid still, stunned in more ways than one.

She was alone in a quiet forest with no one to judge her, no one to look up to her stoic demeanour. There, prone and bleeding, she thought of her Master, a man she would have gladly called father. She recalled the lines of his kind face as he guided her, his stern reprimand as he showed her the ways of the world. He had taught her how to fight, how to use her spells, how to exploit her enemies. He'd shielded her when things had gotten out of control, laughed with her when she'd been successful.

Now all of that was ended. She would never again hear that voice, never again feel the firmness of his hand upon her shoulder.

Alesia de Botton, the Scarlet Sorceress, began to weep. First, it was a quiet sob, then a wracking cry that shook her shoulders and tugged at her broken ribs. She began to bawl like a child, feeling the rawness of her emotions overwhelm all rational thought.

The outburst persisted until the pressure that had built up within her chest escaped. When the last ounce of grief burned itself out, the crisis of the moment came crashing back.

Her teacher was gone, but his murderer still lived. Gwen needed saving, and Gunther was still fighting for his life somewhere. Her body felt broken, her potion cool-downs spent, but Alesia de Botton had one more trump card up her sleeve.

She materialised the Efreeti Dagger in her hand. It was a gift from her Master, used to tap into her gifted Affinity. Within it was imprisoned the Spirit of an Efreet that Henry had summoned, trapped and bound for her perusal. It was a unique item, exceedingly rare and precious, an irreplaceable treasure.

She held the blade gingerly and sliced it across the palm of her hand, smearing the glinting ochre metal with a dash of striking crimson. "O Heart of Flame, Spirit of the Fire, I summon thee from the City of Brass, heed my call."

The blade became wreathed in a white-hot flame. The fire expanded until it took on the shape of a woman, scantily garbed in an intricately beaten brass brassiere. Its hair was a mane of orange and ochre, its eyes two burning coals. Its limbs were full and vital, round and shapely, its waist sinuous and serpentine, at once dangerous and inviting.

The casual observer would have recognised its likeness as Alesia's infamous flame-clad form, her signature combat transformation.

When no order for element fusion came from Alesia, the Efreet gazed toward its Master with puzzlement and malice. Djinns such as these were proud and arrogant creatures. To be made to serve a mere mortal was a severe insult, the gravest injury imaginable to its magical mind.

"I want to make a deal," Alesia declared.

Immediately their surrounding smouldered and burned.

She had the Djinn's full attention. "Give me the power necessary to defeat my enemies, to avenge my Master," Alesia intoned carefully. "And I shall set you free."

There was no hesitation in the Djinn's choice. For two decades it'd been trapped in the Efreeti Blade. Though twenty years were but a moment for these immortal beings, the imprisonment remained a degradation of its noble status that it loathed bearing.

Crack!

The blade of the elementally-forged dagger splintered.

A mote of flame leapt from within, falling upon Alesia's bosom. Her body caught the spark as though it consisted of bone-dry kindling, transforming her into a torrent of swirling fire that twisted and turned until she became the centre of a flaming vortex. A scarlet tornado burst from the depth of the pine forest with a terrific cacophony, transforming the plantation into a sea of flames.

Her wounds no longer mattered, her injuries became less than substantial. Wreathed in the fleeting power of a Djinn, Alesia was now a white-hot fount of plasma, a living pyre in humanoid form.

She rose and saw the distant skyline of Sydney. The sky was no longer the ultramarine she had seen in Rosebay. Now it was tainted by a black sun that seemed to suck in all light, casting a miasmic shadow of Void matter over the landscape.

With a simple gesture and a command from her will, Alesia became a shooting star, tearing across the afternoon sky.

There, she would find Elizabeth.

There, she would find vengeance.

There, she would find atonement.

Chapter forty-four

The Darkness Drops Again

“Irene, one more time!" Gunther barked at the Master Diviner. Beside him, Ferris focused her mana and conjured another Simulacrum, causing her already strained face to wince with mana fatigue.

The illusory Gunther flew directly beneath Sobel, creating refractory conjurations which allowed him to strike at the Void Mage with a pincer attack.

Beside them, Walken was panting with exhaustion, having spent the better portion of his mana on the failed Maze. Of the three, only Gunther had barely broken a sweat, carefully managing his Mana Pool despite the dozen or so exchanges they had traded in succession.

Their core problem was that neither Ferris or Walken were Combat Mages who had gained the title of Magister through decades of conflict and war. Irene Ferris was ultimately just an academic; an intelligence officer turned Magister who was more interested in Arcane Manufacturing than pragmatic combat. Walken, on the other hand, was better, but the man had always worked in the shadows, seldom gracing the Tower's oft-violent conflicts of interest.

A scholar.

A politician.

A Paladin.

That was the rag-tag team that fate had brought to combat a sixty-year-old Void Sorceress, a war hero who'd survived the Saurian Incursion, the Coral Sea Conflict, and countless other military actions large and small.

At first, the battle had opened optimistically. They had fought her in the Tower and beaten back the tide of vampiric lamprey creatures. When they had thought Elizabeth cornered, however, she invoked a ritualistic incantation which began as a dark orb, then rapidly expanded until it became the scene before them. At first, they had thought the spell a Maelstrom or at worst a Black Hole, but the reality of their new hell quickly outstripped even the worst of their expectations.

Battling under the baleful light of the Void Sun was itself a fatiguing endeavour. Even if the trio could use shields to prevent the vitality drain, they still felt their ambient mana draining away, making combat excessively lethargic.

Gunther was not optimistic about their chances. If he was to be brutally honest with himself, Elizabeth Sobel was kicking their arses. For some reason, the woman had a seemingly inexhaustible array of vitality and mana.

Where Gunther, Ferris and Walken planned and conserved mana, his Master's estranged wife continued to pump out high-tier cataclysms one after another.

From training with Gwen, Gunther knew that the fledgling Void Mage was at best good for a handful of low-tier spells and at best one or two higher-tier incantations. Yet Elizabeth seemed unaffected by the physical strain of Void Magic.

The Dark Sun was the apparent culprit for Elizabeth's inexhaustible stamina. Earlier, Gunther had fired a Sunbeam into the Void portal with no indication that his attack affected the orb. It had, as the saying went, disappeared into the Void.

All they could do was to kite Elizabeth and wait to see if she would expose a moment of weakness for them to exploit.

To that end, Gunther was glad that Irene Ferris was on their side. The Magister wasn't a Combat Mage, but she was an adept Illusionist. With a plethora of Mirrored Images, Arcane Vision, Projected Image and Simulacrum, they harried Elizabeth, while being spared from the brunt of her attacks.

The Void sorceress was clearly growing impatient though; her spells were increasingly more outlandish and less restrained. Already the collateral damage from misfired spells and dodged attacks had taken down a portion of the Tower's outer walls, sending a hail of deadly stones onto the city below.

The rest of the Tower Mages had dispersed, finding shelter or escaping while they still could. If Gunther and two other Magisters could not hold down Elizabeth, then the city was forfeit; they would merely be fodder for the insatiable hunger of Sobel's vampiric ritual.

"Chain Void Bolt!" A zig-zag array of dark lightning sliced across the sky, striking one mirrored image after another. The third ricochet caught Gunther's clone, sundering the mirage into the indistinct, azure motes of mana unique to the School of Illusion. Despite their best efforts, the tier six Evocation had caught them flat-footed, its deadly effects deployed within a split-second.

"Light Screen!" Gunther's shield appeared too late to assist Walken, who'd been caught alone after his illusory double had perished.

"Void Sphere!"

A ball of Void energy bloomed beside the Magister, eating through his protection in the blink of an eye. Of all the primary elements, Air had the weakest shield by far.

Usually, the Grey Faction Magister would have fought behind his conjured Familiar, the impressive Couatl Aella— a winged serpent that was equally the match of many a Magus. Unfortunately, Walken’s Familiar with its rare lightning-element had been an early casualty of their battle against Sobel. Winded, Walken kept pace with Gunther, but it was clear that the scheming Magister had been grievously wounded.

Gunther retracted the Light Screen. His Abjuration wasn't going to help the Magister now. "Ferris!"

"On it!" A simulacrum split off from her and dived for the falling Magister. Like Waken, she too was approaching her limit.

"Fiore, when are the damn Towers getting here?" Gunther fired off a Message spell to Walken's Second who'd chosen to remain in the Tower and oversee communications.

"The mana drain from the Void Sun is wreaking havoc with our instruments, but I'd say in the next hour," a weary female voice replied.

"Carey, what's the status on the evacuation?"

"Not looking good, sir. Due to our loss of LRM earlier, most of the NoM civilians remain above ground."

"Shit! What are the Enforcers doing? What about the Civil Defence Mages?"

"I am afraid they have their hands full."

"With what? There's no incursion past the CBD area!"

"With the riots, sir."

"The what?"

Gunther executed a corkscrew turn, avoiding a hail of dark ice that shrieked past his mirrored image and into the city below.

"The NoMs, sir. They're rioting and looting across the Greater West."

Gunther cursed under his breath. Now was not the time to be delicate. As much as his Master seemed to sympathise with the NoMs, their behaviour often left him wondering if they were even the same species. Rioting in the crisis of an invasion, looting for profit when an enervating sun was growing ever larger above their heads? What foolishness!

"Kill the ringleaders and set an example. Get the rest into the shelters as soon as possible. If the Dark Sun spreads beyond the city, they're all going to be Void dust. I'll take full responsibility."

"Aye, sir. I'll pass the message on."

With a boost of mana, Gunther executed a dead man's turn, watching Elizabeth blow past him in a white blur.

The Void Sorceress must be supremely confident. She lacked Ioun Stones, wands, enchanted armour and expendable items. All she had on was a white chiffon dress; its tattered state indicated mortal fabric. Indeed, while the trio had burned potions and scrolls, the Void Sorceress had carried on without appearing taxed. After dodging another spell, Gunther had the distinct feeling that Elizabeth was a cat toying with three blind mice.

"Dawn!"

A ball of light erupted in Elizabeth's flight path. The Void Mage immediately erected a shield, but this time it was Gunther who'd caught her flat-footed. He watched with focused intent as the radiant heat seared her milk-white skin, eliciting blistering boils on her flawless complexion. The scent of charred flesh trailed through the air.

Just as Gunther slowed to make ready his follow-up strike, Elizabeth rotated her body in midair and fired off a riposte. Her conjured Morden's Blade shrieked through the air, too fast for Gunther's eyes to follow. By the time he had erected his Non-Newtonian shield, it was already inches away from his torso.

"Teleport!" Even with Gunther's proficiency, he was too late. The blade found his body just as the spell manifested.

When he reappeared some distance away, he could feel that a part of his musculature was amiss. A good six inches of his flesh—skin, tissues and all—had been consumed.

Before his body could register the pain, he materialised a healing injector and impaled his wound. The itching growth of new flesh immediately followed, but the Void had already taken its toll. His Astral Body was wounded. Even if it healed, it would take months of soulful osmosis for his flesh to regain sensation and feeling.

So it was that the Paladin of Sydney fell back, cursing himself for underestimating the Void Mage's resilience. His one solace, however, was that they had exchanged a significant blow.

Until Elizabeth reappeared from her tumbling roll, her ivory face not showing a single blemish.

Gunther cursed, caught off guard by the impossible outcome. He had seen her face boil and burn! How was it possible?

The Paladin's moment of hesitation proved near-fatal. Just as he reeled from both the physical shock of recovery and the mental stupor of surprise, Elizabeth made her play.

The Morden's Blade remerged teasingly from behind Elizabeth, then made a bee-line for Gunther's chest. He did not doubt that the blade was a distraction and that the woman would have a follow up waiting for him. But his retaliation needed a few more seconds, for the reinvigoration of lost flesh had paralysed his body.

He had thought that his final thoughts would be of his Master. To his surprise, it was Alesia's face that appeared—a flaming, resplendent Alesia who was pure plasma, the very vision of an elemental Djinn blessed with the power of fire. A split-second passed, then his vision filled with that of a fiery Valkyrie blazing a trail of fireflies with smouldering coals for eyes.

"Did ya miss me, tiger?"

Her voice was the sweetest thing in the world. Gunther was surprised that his final vision was even capable of speech. Maybe, just maybe, he had admired his sister-in-craft more than he'd thought. "Alesia," he confessed to the blinding vision, so bright as to burn a sensuous silhouette into his retinas. "I am sorry—"

Then the Efreet was gone. It had taken the Void Sorceress with her, leaving behind a mist of dark blood and burning air.

Gunther's mind jolted back to reality. That was no vision! his mind screamed at him. You dimwit! That was Alesia in the flesh!

"Alesia!" his voice boomed at the retreating form now fleeing from him like a falling star. "Beware! She's feeding off the black sun!"

The supernatural confidence of the Djinns suited Alesia well. She hadn't felt the need to consider meagre offerings like strategy. After all, she was flame incarnate; a Djinn manifested in the material realm, a Demi-goddess of fire.

What was an illusion before absolute power? What was trickery and subterfuge before unquestionable force?

A halo of plasma and fire coalesced around her as she blasted towards the Tower. A ring of superheated hair blew from her passage as the barrier of sound itself was sundered by her supersonic flight.

The Tower rapidly grew larger. She could see specks fighting in the distance. Rapidly, they became individuals—one white, one radiant, and two that were nondescript.

The white one was Elizabeth. One of the plebeian-looking ones was Walken. The radiant one was Gunther, meaning the last mote was Ferris.

Alesia already had her priorities sorted—Elizabeth would burn first, then Walken would follow.

She saw Gunther making a corkscrew turn, retaliating as he spiralled, catching Elizabeth as she dodged. She saw Elizabeth retaliate, Gunther wounded by a dark sliver of Void.

A new fury exploded in Alesia's chest. The tail of searing flame that trailed her passage changed from white-hot to dazzling.

"Did ya missed me, tiger?" Alesia fired off a mirthful Message spell just before impact. It felt like a lifetime since she'd seen Gunther, and her heart soared to know that he was alive.

But kisses and hugs would have to wait. There were wicked business to be conclude before they could lick each other's wounds and find commiseration in the commonality of their grief.

WHAM!

Alesia ensured that her rigid flame shield slammed into Elizabeth with superhuman force. The impact was such that had it not been for Alesia's elemental form, both combatants would have become mingled mince.

There was a satisfying crunch when she struck the Void witch, feeling the shock of her body-blow reverberate through the tiny woman's frail form. To the Scarlet Sorceress' surprise, the Void Mage did not simply cease to exist, nor was she cut in twain by the force of Alesia's assault.

Alesia's combat instincts screamed for her to continue. With one hand, she fired a jet stream of blue-white flames in the opposite direction, cutting her inertia dead in the air. The dizzying manoeuvre was just enough to send the sprawling body away from Elizabeth, whose silhouette exploded into a mess of dark worms issued straight from the Void.

"Flaming Hand!" The air ignited. The revolting creatures ceased to be.

"Watch out! There's a—"

Gunther's warning came too late. His flight spell was many degrees slower than Alesia's rocket-powered acceleration. Sobel's conjured Black Blade emerged from the burning mass, cutting the air with an unholy shriek as it aimed for Alesia's heart.

With no time to react, Alesia swung her arms downward, instinctively opening her palms to catch the incoming projectile.

CLANG!

To the surprise of all, the vorpal blade didn’t take off Alesia's forearm. Instead, Alesia's elemental body of plasma caught the flat edge an inch from her torso, enclosed between her palms.

Alesia's scalp crawled. Who the hell catches a Morden's Blade with their bare hands? Her rational mind felt challenged by her surreal circumstance. Furthermore, what the hell does one do next after catching a dancing vorpal blade?

Alesia instinctively knew what to do.

White-hot flames blew from her palms until the air ignited with blue-green bursts. The mana of the black blade sizzled, then exploded into globs of dark ink, raining down into the city below.

"There's a PhD there for whoever explains that phenomenon," Gunther remarked dryly, finally reaching his companion's side.

"Where the fuck did the bitch go?" Alesia looked around, bewildered. "That was a simulacrum thing! Where's her real body?"

"Aye, and a dangerously self-destructive one," Gunther observed unhappily. "What did I tell you about rushing in, Allie?"

Alesia shot her brother-in-craft a look that spoke volumes, her eyes two glowing cores rolling in the molten sockets of her face. Gunther coughed and averted his gaze.

"Thanks for saving my life," the Paladin remarked quietly. "I am sorry about our Master. Whatever happened, I am sure you did your best."

"Well, it wasn't enough." Alesia's voice lost the vivacity she had possessed just a moment ago. Sighing, she looked up at the dark sun hanging mercilessly over the blue sky, an unmoving eclipse which cast its deadly blessing over all that it surveyed. "How do we kill that?"

Gunther dearly wished he had an answer to her question.

"Well, Walken said that her Void was weak to Lightning. Walken also said that the Melbourne and Brisbane Towers are incoming, ETA soon." Gunther did not sound optimistic.

Alesia shook her head, sending out a swarm of fireflies. "They don't have anyone at the Magus level."

"I know."

"Gunther!" A Message spell bloomed next to Gunther's ear. It was Irene Ferris. "I don't know what you did, but something just came out of the Black Sun!"

Gunther relayed the Message to Alesia, whose flaming eyes smouldered.

"Gunther!" Irene's voice took on a tone of urgency.

"We're coming back now."

The two ascended, with Alesia leading. Side by side, the duo appeared as though two shooting stars moving to accost the dusky sky. Closer now, they could see that Ferris was right to worry. The Void Sun was changing, taking on a more malicious tinge. The shadowy blight it dispensed became more intense, hungrier and more potent. The tingling coldness when it touched Gunther’s skin was now an icy bite that permeated to the bone.

"It’s good to see you again, Alesia," Ferris muttered when she pulled up. "We need all the help we can get."

Walken, wounded and discreetly loitering a distance away, tried to make himself scarce. Unfortunately, there was no escaping Alesia's smouldering orbs.

"Alesia, not now." Gunther wanted to place a hand on her shoulder but feared he would lose his limb should his sister-in-craft's emotions supersede her rationality.

A moment of danger hung in the air, the silence punctuated only by the ambient thrum of the dark sun's magic. Bursts of enervating energy emitted from the dark sun. Dark tendrils, distinct and indistinct, emerged like curious tongues, tasting the air for prey.

"Don't let them touch you!" Gunther told the others, recalling the vision that had been agonisingly wrought by Mark Chandler at the cost of his sister's soul.

As the prehensile tendrils reached out, seemingly ignoring the limitations of space, the trio was forced to duck and weave, alternating between shielding and Abjuring the shadowy appendages.

It was Gunther who first noticed that Alesia's flames were no longer swaying chaotically in the air. Instead, the heat of her Aegis of Flame was streaming in one direction, feeding the heart of the sun.

Walken, who'd been paying particular attention to Alesia, gave a sudden start. "It's penetrating our shields!" he Messaged the others. "We're not going to last much longer under this."

"How shall we regroup?" Ferris inquired carefully, though the question may as well have been rhetorical. If they fled from the sun, it would only grow stronger. If they couldn't contain it now, how would they defeat it when it matured?

"Ideas?" The collected Magisters and Maguses communed while keeping the tentacles and tendrils at bay. Each appendage seemed to possess a life of its own, hunting and feeling the air for nourishment. Gunther did not doubt that if they left, the tendrils would hunt the lesser Mages below.

Ferris made a suggestion. "How about we wait for the other Towers? We can attempt a parallel octagramic Mandala Dispel when Uther and Lin get here. Myself, Alesia, Walken, Gunther and two fresh Magisters can do it. We can use their Tower Mages for the other two spots. Surely they would have brought their Paladins along as well."

Walken interjected. "Impossible. There is no way we're going to be able to attune the magic, not with the tendrils attacking us. Look at that thing. You think the other two are going to let their Tower Mages serve as fodder while we take time to commune and align our mana? Not to mention—" Walken narrowly dodged a grasping tentacle. His flight agility had been drastically affected by his injury. The Magister's body desperately needed a Greater Restoration, but there were no healers powerful enough to be present in a battle of this magnitude. A mid-tier Cleric would only serve as targets of opportunity, feeding Elizabeth's hunger for mana and vitality. "the Tower has been losing altitude since a moment ago."

"Well, you got any better ideas?" Ferris demanded cattily.

"Fuck this," Alesia suddenly announced. "Gunther, cover me."

Before he could answer, Alesia shot upward like a falling star compelled by reverse gravity. A triple layer of Mandalas formed under her feet as she blasted through the tendrils barring her way, arriving in the dead centre of the hovering sun, just beyond the borders of its nether realm.

A host of tendrils moved to usurp her elemental energy, abjured by blasts of light emanating from below, slicing and dicing the intruding mass.

"Light Screen!" A double glazed Shield barred the tentacles for the moment.

"Allie," he began, but the worrying words in this throat were halted before he could speak them. The battle for Sydney was her fight as well as his. Even if they swapped places, Gunther knew he would have also ignored Alesia and persisted with what he thought was necessary and right. They were birds of a feather in many ways, proteges of Henry Kilroy, inheritors of their Master's gifts, not to mention his sins. If Elizabeth existed because of their Master's weakness, then for the sake of the Master who’d brought them life, his students would conclude his life's work. For better or worse, there must be closure to the chapter.

"I'll cover you," Gunther said instead. "Sphere of Light!"

An aura of brilliant radiance expanded around the two Mages. Used defensively, the light channelled from the Quasi-Elemental Plane of Radiance consumed all beings of darkness, dispelled all things that originated within the Negative Plane. Gunther had saved the spell as a trump card; an eleventh-hour attempt at repealing Elizabeth's mortal strike. He felt no qualms burning the high-tier Evocation if it meant sheltering Alesia.

The flames that sheathed Alesia grew focused, losing that chaotic quality so endearing to Fire, instead weaving themselves into her body. She was already an impressive Evoker, but the spell she was attempting was a tier higher. As with all things magical, there were dire repercussions for exceeding her limitations. At best, the invocation would wreak havoc upon her Astral Body and rupture her Mana Conduits. At worst, she could become severely debilitated by mana burn. No Mage ever wanted to make this choice, but this was the time for it, and all Gunther could do was be his dearest's protector.

In a moment, the Djinn's borrowed mana poured from Alesia's body, feeding the spell manifesting above. Her crimson Caracal fused itself into the manifest, expending its Essence to shield its Master from the negative feedback of over-channelled sorcery. Though the Caracal Spirit wasn't a sapient being like Sufina, it instinctively prioritised its Master's life over the continued existence of its ego.

A heaviness smothered the air; a feeling of dreaded oppression. The temperature skyrocketed as a portal to the Elemental Plane of Fire gave birth to a massive fireball a dozen metres in circumference. Smouldering with spluttering flames, Alesia pointed a finger heavenward, then moved it towards the nadir in a swift, violent motion. "Meteor Strike!"

The burgeoning mass of plasma began to move, at first ponderously, but as it picked up speed, an elongated tail of orange-red flames began to grow, casting an orange haze over the dark recesses of the Void sun, turning its translucent tendrils orange and yellow.

Beside the dark sun, Gunther clutched the exhausted Alesia, heedless of her flaming torso, pulling her from the path of her AoE spell. "Teleport!" With the Crimson Caracal consumed by Alesia's spell, Gunther was no longer confident that her AOEs could discriminate between friend and foe.

As the two faded amidst a swirl of quicksilver mana, the forces of Void and Fire collided.

From below, the siblings-in-craft caught the sight of two celestial bodies engaged in a mortal contest akin to a reverse eclipse. The collision, however, engendered no heaven-splitting explosion, no blast ring that sent shockwaves below to trouble the already sundered city. There wasn't even the sound of two objects meeting in violent disharmony.

There was only a hiss. A terrible, indescribable hiss as the dark sun began to consume the meteor. The meeting of two celestial bodies of energy was a foreboding sight. What would happen when a strategic ritual designed for mass vampiric absorption met an overwhelming force? At what equivalence did the consumption win out, when did they negate one another, and at what magnitude did the spell force disrupt the ritual's Mandala?

Unfortunately for Alesia and her battered, exhausted company, the answer was not in their favour.

Not even a Meteor—one tier below the city-destroying Meteor Swarm, a strategic spell used only in conflicts of mutually assured destruction—could destroy the dark sun.

Then the meteor waned. Even now, the Black Sun was regaining its exhausted energies. No matter the mass it had just lost, there were plenty of Mages and NoMs, flora and fauna below to feed its hunger.

When the meteor finally dissipated, they could see for a brief moment, the silhouette of a woman in the darkness, displaced amidst a sea of Void. Elizabeth must be laughing at them, mocking their last-ditch attempt. Then their Master’s murderer faded from view and tendrils once again manifested from the heart of the blighted celestial object.

Alesia's companions scattered as before, only now further weakened and spent. "Gunther!" Her cry of alarm shook her brother-in-craft from the despairing revelry of assured defeat.

A tentacle had found the Scarlet Sorceress.

The cognisance came as much as a surprise to Gunther as it would have for anyone of them. Alesia was the most agile and empowered for combat. For her to be caught, she must be genuinely exhausted. With a grunt, he severed the nether-tentacle with a blast of light.

Alesia's problems, however, had just begun. The sorceress' flaming form became a chaotic mess of spluttering flames, appearing and disappearing about her body. Gunther realised that the Djinn that had been the source of the Efreeti Transformation was to blame. Now that Alesia was bereft of mana, exhausted in spirit and physically wounded by her overambitious spell of mass destruction, it was maliciously trying to cause the death of its host!

Even as Gunther approached, dodging several jellyfish tendrils of Void matter himself, Alesia lost herself to another tendril. Gunther swore under his breath; his mana wasn’t inexhaustible. They had been fighting for half an hour, throwing out one spell after another. Soon they would all be out of mana and helpless.

"Scorching Radiance!" Another blast freed Alesia.

Gunther tackled his craft-sister in midair and dove downwards for the cover of the crumbling Tower. A searing pain ignited across his arm, hands and chest. The scent of scorched flesh filled his nostrils.

The fucking Djinn! Gunther swore. It dared to attack him! Had Gunther not been flame-aligned himself, the assault would have debilitated him with a fatal blow. "Shit! Allie, hold on!"

Though the distraction had lasted only a second, it was enough. First, a single tendril, then two more, then a dozen, quickly wrapped around Gunther and Alesia's falling forms, compounding the crisis that Gunther faced from the rebellious Djinn.

He was not prone to admit to despair, but now he felt it distinctly. If he and Alesia were gone, who would carry on Henry's legacy? Would his Master always be remembered as the husband of the madwoman who consumed all of Sydney? What of all his subordinates, all those NoMs who awaited salvation below? Who would save them now?

DING! A Message alarm fired off beside Gunther's head. He answered it in disbelief. "Gwen?"

Rolling thunder echoed across the cloudless sky, growing louder and louder with each passing mile.

Their youngest sister-in-craft had arrived.

Chapter forty-five

SpiritusMundi

Gwen deeply regretted not learning Flight.

The last time she’d flown, Alesia had held her hand, pulling her through the sky like a human balloon. Now she was flying again, only she wasn't in control of the elements that held her aloft. As much as Almudj aided her with the manipulation of flight, she still drifted toward the battle like a drunk trying to give backseat directions to a deaf driver in a car without a steering wheel.

Her chest ached. It was excruciating to see the battle so close, yet she was physically too far to aid her siblings. "Almudj, can we go faster?" Gwen pleaded with the air.

The sound of rustling leaves ensured her that their velocity increased, but still the Tower and the dark sun loomed in the distance, with its ring of combatants mere specks. Once the euphoria of murdering Faceless had faded, Gwen felt the distinct pang of contemplative self-loathing.

Then, there was the battle ahead. She swallowed a reflexive surge of bitter bile when she thought of fighting Elizabeth. It was one thing, after all, to run over hot coals in a madcap moment, and another to see it smoke and smoulder while one considered the consequences.

As she contemplated badgering Almudj for another burst of acceleration, she heard the unthinkable ding of a Message spell blossom by her ear.

Quickly, she extracted her Message device from the storage ring and activated its receiving Glyph. The voice that came through almost made her burst into tears.

"Gwen! Are you alright? Are you still in Rosebay? Have you evacuated?" Richard fired off a volley of rapid questions.

"I am… alright." Gwen wasn't sure how to explain it all. "How's everyone else?"

"We're inland. Well, the family is inland, your mother included. Surya's offered up his estate as a camp. I've volunteered to stay behind as rearguard and to pick up stragglers. Where are you now? I'll come and find you."

Gwen discerned her surroundings. She was mid-air and gravitating towards a deadly bout of aerial combat with a dark, all-consuming sun of Void controlled by a psychotic grandma. "I am safe," Gwen lied. "Don't worry about me. I'll join you guys soon."

"Alright." Her cousin's voice was full of relief. "I hope the Message Towers stay active. Keep me posted if anything happens. I am at the Strathfield interchange. We're trying to get the NoMs as far away from the CBD as we can."

"Richard, wait!"

"Yes?"

"How's Percy? and Dad?"

"Percy is holding together pretty well. Huang and company should be at the estate by now. As for your dad, I don’t know."

"Thanks." Gwen didn't want to pursue to the matter any further, at least for now.

"See you soon."

"Okay."

The reactivation of the Message Towers brought new hope, as well as anxiety for Gwen. Bidden by a naive faith, she held the device and dialled in the Glyph for Yue. An unwelcome silence informed her that Yue's augur-band was either out of range or no longer existed.

"Jesus!" Gwen shielded her eyes.

Another enervating burst of foul energies erupted from the Black Sun, matching the depression in her heart, matching her breath with perfect synchronisation.

Shielding the eyes had been a good idea. Without warning, a tremendous, fiery mass gathered.

The mass that consolidated above the Tower was larger than anything she had seen or experienced—a raging ball of plasma over a dozen metres across! Like a shooting star, the meteor shot toward the Void Sun, light and shadow meeting in antagonistic disharmony.

Gwen's hopeful jubilation was short-lived. In the next minute, she witnessed the dissolution of the fiery cataclysm into the maw of the shadowy sun. Even with the dark orb significantly diminished, its consuming Void persisted in its intensity, vexing the city with its vampiric rays.

In the aftermath, there remained a flaming Efreet.

Alesia!

Gwen's eyes glowed electric with intensifying emotions, inspirited by the glorious sight of a fiery Alesia. If her sister-in-craft had survived, then surely her friends as well!

Then once again, the reality of her companion's desperate battle dawned upon her. If Alesia's meteor couldn't defeat Elizabeth, if Gunther, who had instantly dismembered enemies that had toyed with Gwen, couldn't overcome Elizabeth, then what could she do?

Her highest level of offensive spell remained Lightning Bolt. Even empowered by Almudj, she had only mortally wounded Faceless, not blasted him into atomic dust. Even now, her Divination Sigil reeled with horrid foreshadowing. Her stolen powers of premonition howled out the writing on the wall, the vision within the crystal ball.

It wasn't as though her Void spells worked on Elizabeth. Her Conjuration spells were at best tier four. Her Evocation remained woefully low at tier three. Most importantly, Caliban and Ariel couldn't fly.

Only a moment ago, the Void Sun had swallowed a high-tier, strategic-class Evocation of mass destruction, further empowered by Alesia's absurd Affinity with Elemental Fire. Even with Almudj's aid, her Lightning was at best an Affinity in the high sixes to eights.

She was just an intermediary; Gwen realised— she wasn't a force of nature. She wasn't even an emissary, like those druidic masters of European lore. She was merely someone lucky enough to possess a smidgen of the Mythic's Essence, a fox borrowing the tiger's terror.

"Kin." As if sensing her despair, Almudj's resonate telepathy made its presence known, the intensity of its consciousness the scorching heat of the sun-baked clay. "What do I do? Almudj?" Gwen felt stupid asking the Mythic, but she didn't know what else to do. As much as she was willing to join the fray, she wasn't the hot-headed Alesia, to whom victory was predetermined and defeat merely meant she should try harder.

"Sing," came the reply, accompanied by a deep and resonating breeze that transformed into the thrum of rolling thunder building toward cacophony. "Dream."

The serpent's telepathic speech was echoed by a sound of chanting, joined by the stamping of feet. From nowhere, she heard the low song of the didgeridoo, saw the bright colour of body-paint in earthly ochre, red-rust and bone-white. From thin air came the crispy clop of the watering stick, clap, clap, clap and the undulating chant of “Kapi! Kapi! Kapi!”

A surge of vital, emerald energy flowed from the Kirin amulet, suffusing her body, empowering the Dream. Around and around the corroboree went, circles within circles.

She was there, amidst the gathering, moving her body, a migloo ghost swaying to the beat of the thumping cadence. Faster and faster they went. The material world grew undefined, the edges of figures above and below her, in front and below her, less distinct.

Here was the Unformed Land. Here was where all the world began.

"Kapi! Kapi! Kapi!"

There was the sudden sound of crashing thunder, the snare-drum hush of rain as archery, the pitter-patter kiss of dewdrops.

She was Singing the Snake, bringing the tempest.

The Dreaming was a ritual of understanding the world; making real that which was unreal and insubstantial through the telling of a tale. It was the language of creation, the grammar of its great stories. It was the beginning of knowledge from which came the laws of the world. It was the old time of the ancestor beings, and the new time of the children, whose dreams made the world rainbow-hued.

Serpents and suns.

Suns and Serpents.

Gwen knew not what magic compelled Almudj, but she knew it wasn't the compulsion of elemental energies channelled by Sigils. It was older, more ancient; it was an act of the world, an act of creation and annihilation. She knew not what mythology this world's people followed, but she had known many mythoi of her own.

She knew now what to do.

"Almudj," Gwen felt her mind intimately linked with the vastness of the Serpent's own, connected by the moment of shared Dreaming. "You must swallow the Black Sun. What belongs to the earth must return to earth. The usurper will be expelled."

A sweeping scent of briny air flowing across endless coastlines affirmed the telling of her story to the Rainbow Snake. She felt the residual energy of the Kirin amulet suffuse the air, manifesting into the Dreaming, calling upon the serpent, bridging the space between Uluru and the Tasman Sea.

In a second, her supernatural vitality drained away, the connection she'd shared with Almudj grew less intimate. Beside her was the crude platform of the spell-beaten Tower; the collateral damage of battle on full display. Above, Alesia was wrestling with an elemental force that was impeding her mobility. Gunther moved to shield her, but the two became caught by dark tendrils that had laid in wait for them.

A pressure began to build overhead. The troposphere grew dense with moisture as elemental mana began to swirl. Gwen's storm was coming. She quickly fired off a Message spell to her brother-in-craft, still trapped within the tendrils.

"Gunther! We have to leave this place NOW! The Serpent is coming!"

"Gwen?" came the reply. "What Serpent?"

"No time to explain. Get ready!"

Gwen drew upon what little power that remained. "Barbanginy!" she incanted.

A bolt of emerald lightning shredded the dark strands of Void tendrils enveloping Gunther and Alesia. Still entwined, her siblings' smoking forms tumbled from the sky. Whatever had been attacking Alesia must have sensed it was no match for the primal might of Almudj, for Gwen bore witness to the improbable scene of a female Djinn tearing itself from Alesia and dematerialising into the Elemental Plane of Fire.

With the rabid Djinn gone, Gunther resumed control of his Flight spell. The Paladin of Sydney Tower cradled the semi-conscious body of Alesia in his arms and turned to regard Gwen, who was levitating in the air. "How are you flying?" he asked incredulously, drifting closer.

"No time!" Gwen stressed, pleading with her eyes. "Gunther, you need to take us out of here now!"

Improbably, the cloudless sky began to thunder and shower at once.

Gunther looked up, bewildered by the turn of events. "What's that up there?"

"Gunther!" Gwen's voice became several octaves higher.

The Radiant Mage reached out and took Gwen's arm, pulling her closer. "How far?"

"As far as we can go!"

Gunther channelled his contingency mana reserves. "Teleport!"

Just as Gwen and her company reappeared just over a kilometre away, a vortex of water began to form above the dark sun. As if sensing the imminent danger, thousands of tendrils sprouted from its surface, moving to intercept the rapid descent of the primal force that now propelled towards it.

A serpentine head emerged from the swirling vortex, materialising as it moved downward with the ponderous, unstoppable force of a natural calamity. Its scales scintillated, casting a rainbow hue over the darkened landscape, illuminating the failing light of the late afternoon sky with a dazzling display of colour. Then the rest of its body materialised, kilometres of it, stretching upward until it disappeared into the stratosphere.

Almudj opened its maw, its jaws distended.

The dark sun hovered helplessly for a moment, gazing upon the beginning and end of the universe.

From everywhere, Almudj's maw enveloped the Black Sun.

Alesia stirred in Gunther's arms; her eyes widening when she saw their new companion. "Gwen?"

"Alesia, you're hurt!"

As much as her sister-in-craft wanted to converse with her about when, where, how and who, she couldn’t, Alesia’s attention was usurped by the spectacle of a Mythic, kilometres in length, swallowing an enervating sun. "What…"

"It's the Rainbow Serpent," Gwen said appreciatively. "Almudj has come to help us."

"It has a name?" Alesia marvelled, wincing at the effort of making even the most minute of exertions.

Before them, Almudj was coiling upon itself, collecting its gargantuan form. It looked to be settling in for a vigorous digestive session.

"Tired." Gwen heard Almudj's voice within her head, accompanied the by the soft, sinking feeling of bubbling mangroves.

"Rest now, Almudj," she said to the looming presence, so large that it hurt her eyes.

Gunther and Alesia both stared at her, Gunther's expression magnitudes more exaggerated than Alesia's. Gwen smiled coyly in response.

"Are you communicating with it?" Gunther inquired breathlessly.

Gwen wasn't sure what the correct answer might be, but she trusted Gunther enough to give him the truth. "We have a connection."

“Is that snake a threat?” Gunther flushed with apprehension. "Gwen, do you know what—"

Before he could complete his astonishing acclamation, two Message spells audibly chimed by Gunther’s head. Her brother-in-craft listen, then took on a terrible scowl.

“…Gwen, if you can communicate with the serpent, now’s the time for it to leave.”

“What do you mean?” Gwen was taken back by the sudden turn.

"Oh no," Alesia intoned weakly beside her as well, having also received the Messages. "Gwen, you have to tell the snake to go at once!”

The air suddenly thickened with mana.

In the next second, the trio found themselves in shadow. Above them, there was a shuddering of space; a tear in the material plane. There was a sound of air displacing violently.

Two immense structures shot into existence, shunted into being via the expenditure of an unimaginable volume of crystal reserves.

The first Tower to appear was Brisbane, headed by Magister Fei Lin, the Battle Mage of the Grey Faction. Unlike the Sydney Tower, whose brutalist architecture favoured simplicity and uniformity, the Brisbane Tower was a verdant, towering modern structure of transmuted glass reinforced by rings of banded steel. The entirety of its exterior inundated with plant life, from vines to palms, to towering figs that grew between the greenhouses.

The second to materialise was the Melbourne Tower, one of the first Australian Towers to be constructed. Unlike the Brisbane, its structure was a long-bodied monastery with four elegant sandstone spires that soared toward the heavens. Stained glass depicting scenes of valour covered every facet of its vaulted halls. Where the other Towers had favoured height, the Melbourne Tower favoured length and girth—it sat atop a massive rocky platform kept afloat with embedded enchantments and carved into the stonework, altogether shaped like a sword. Its headmaster, Guldric Uther, was the fabricator responsible for overseeing the construction of Towers and Shielding Stations, a veteran battle-master of the Warring Faction.

"Lin! Uther! Stand down!" Gunther shouted into the Message spell. It was a grievous miscalculation on his part. In the chaos of the moment, his warning came too late.

As expected, neither Tower listened to Gunther's eleventh-hour command. Even if they had heeded the Paladin's warning, the chain of command remained firmly in the hands of each Tower's headmaster.

Unlike Sydney Tower, these flying fortresses were fully operational the moment they shifted into existence. Upon their decks and battlements, a full roster of just under a thousand Mages manned their armaments and spires, operated its engines, infirmaries, and artifices.

Instantly, decahedron rings of complex Glyphs powered up atop each of the Tower's spires. Mandalas dozens of layers in thickness activated a powerful Abjuration barrier to protect the Tower's Mages from external attacks.

Once the shield was in place, a cascade of spells began to flow from the Tower's battlements and spires, its range and damage empowered by the inbuilt enchantments of the battle fortress.

Explosions rocked the surface of Almudj's scales, sending shimmering shockwaves through the serpent's body. Almudj roared, a booming cry rolling across the heavens, churning the blue sea below a frothy white. It hissed at these human-made structures, striking at them with buffeting wind and rain. A bolt of emerald lightning crashed against the Melbourne Tower, scattering across the shield and showering its inhabitants with harmless sparks.

"Jesus, Gunther." A sultry female voice announced itself audibly around the trio. "Your city's a right mess. Where's this Black Sun Eric kept harping on about?"

"We're going to need to work together if we want to take this thing apart." Uther's gruff voice came through, his baritone cutting through the noise. "It's bloody gigantic. You'll be cleaning up the harbour for weeks."

As the first spell stabbed into Almudj's scales, Gwen felt a sharp pain in her bosom as though someone had forced an ice pick under her fingers and was in the process of degloving her hand. Whatever the serpent had felt from the assault was being transferred directly to her via their empathic link. She cried out in alarm and clasped her head between her hands.

"Gwen!" Gunther cursed, rapidly attempting to explain the situation to the Magisters of each Tower.

Sensing her distress and agony, Gwen felt the connection between her and the serpent diminish. As if in response to her loss of favour, the charmed "air" which had held Gwen aloft likewise dispersed. She felt a lurch and was very aware that she was half a kilometre up. "Gunther!"

Her brother-in-craft caught her mid-fall. Gwen felt his forceful arm support her midriff, his fingers roughly digging into her skin. Before she could thank him, they began to descend. The weight of two additional women was too much for the Flight buff. A look passed between Gwen and Gunther, but neither commented.

"Gwen, get the snake to leave now!" Gunther pivoted to the crisis at hand.

"Almudj!" Gwen begged. "Go! Leave this place!"

Almudj replied with a vision of wildfires, flaming tornados and ravaging lightning strikes raining across a verdant jungle. If these usurpers wanted to harm its life, then it would return them to the earth.

"No!" Gwen pleaded. "Almudj, you must go! Please! You cannot defeat them!"

Gwen had recalled Alesia stating that a Battlemaster of the Ten could, with the aid of a Tower, take on a mythical beast. While Gwen had a feeling that Almudj was likely more potent than a Dragon that had lived for millennia, she was in no mind to test that hypothesis. Not now, and hopefully not ever.

In her mind, Almudj was nature, a part of the landscape, akin to an ancient, sentient continent. It had no contest with humanity, at least not until Elizabeth and her ilk tried to steal its egg. It had no reason to involve itself with the city until Gwen had begged it to come and destroy the usurper. Almudj would have been perfectly happy, entirely blissful, if man had wiped himself from the face of the oceanic continent entirely. She did not want the creature to become a pariah, another victim of her people's selfish conflicts.

"Almudj!" Gwen pleaded. "Please go! Go home to the place where all rivers began, never return to the land of man!"

"Hold your fire!" Gunther roared into the Message Spell. "The creature is not hostile to us! It just ate the Void Mage and the Black Sun!"

"Absurd!" Uther's voice came across with annoyance. "No such beings exist!"

The mythical serpent moved its body upward.It did not attack the Towers. Instead, it found a safe space between the buildings, then lifted itself towards the sky.

"I am standing down," Lin announced. "Walken confirmed your story."

"That man's word is worth less than Goblin shit." Uther's voice was a guttural bark.

"I don't give a shit what you think." Lin's voice was relaxed and tempered. "Sydney's just been in one hell of a tiff. Whatever happens to Walken after this, let me first apologise on behalf of our Faction. We’re going to have a lot of rebuilding ahead."

“Damned Greys!" Uther was far from pleased.

As both Towers ceased their barrage, the colossal serpent raised its majestic head and ascended into the air. As suddenly as it had appeared, it dispersed into fragments of scintillating light, forming a rainbow that spanned the space between the two levitating Towers.

It was a surreal sight. Only a few minutes prior they had been locked in mortal combat, now the scene resembled a vision from Elysium.

"Goodbye, Almudj," Gwen said beside them, barely audible.

Gunther's steely eyes fell on the two of them, his voice low and severe. "Gwen, whatever happens, everything about the snake is between you, Alesia and me."

Gwen nodded. That was the way she wanted it.

Alesia likewise nodded weakly, her body wasted in Gunther's cradled arms. Her long lashes fluttered and were still. It had been a long day for all of them, but especially so for Alesia.

"Is Elizabeth alive?" Gunther questioned. "Could she have escaped?"

Gwen shook her head. "I don't know. Almudj couldn't say. In Almudj's eyes, we're all usurpers of the land. The only thing I can confirm is that Almudj took everything that was in the Void Sun."

"That doesn't tell us much."

"No, I’m afraid not.”

Gunther's expression remained rigid until he took a deep breath. When her brother-in-craft next spoke to Gwen, his tone grew softer. "No, it's fine. Whatever happened, Sobel's lost all her profit, thanks to you. All that vitality, all that power, all taken by your snake friend. I'd wager the initiation of that ritual took a lot out of her."

"Almudj," Gwen interjected softly.

"Hmm?"

"Almudj. That’s the name of the serpent."

Gunther rolled the name in his mouth a few times. "Keep it close to your heart, Gwen. The name of a Mythic being holds great power and it gives power to the one who can invoke it. If Almudj can hear your voice, if you have that connection, then that is a rare thing which many others would covet."

Gwen agreed.

"Can you call upon it again? What are the costs?" Gunther inquired carefully.

Gwen's hand moved subconsciously to the Kirin pendant, where only a mite of Almudj's elemental Essence remained. "I don't think so." Her voice was full of loss.

"A shame," Gunther intoned sagely. "But perhaps it is for the best. For yourself and Almudj."

Gwen agreed. Almudj was not a creature their world deserved.

Now that the danger was over, the trio descended slowly and landed on the shattered steps of the Sydney Tower to inspect the true extent of the damage.

Still held safely in Gunther's arms, Gwen placed her head on his chest, feeling the heat of his body against the chilling wind blowing in from the sea.

"It's just us now," Gunther's voice quivered just a little.

He was right, Gwen reflected solemnly. For the three of them, for the students of Henry Kilroy, the legacy of Elizabeth Sobel would be the fateful chain that bound them. They would have no peace, no solace, no restful sleep until they hunted her down and offered her head on a silver platter to the Mageocracy.

"Cold?" Gunther asked, and Gwen nodded demurely.

"Alright, let’s land and get a hot cuppa. It’s been a long day."

Gunther Shultz loathed loose ends.

The Paladin of Sydney watched as the medical staff bundled away Alesia on a levitating stretcher. Gwen followed her sister-in-craft, wrapped in a thick blanket and nursed by a cup of cocoa.

The girls were safe and he finally had the privacy necessary to think about the despoiled future.

Below the Melbourne Tower, dusk had brought the dying light of day. The city of Sydney, the so-called crown jewel of Oceania, the most prosperous of the Frontier Cities, was now a husk of its glorious past.

Above its ruined facade, three Towers hovered, their empowered 'Light' beams long white fingers groping for targets in the darkness below. From the CBD, columns of oily cloud rose from destroyed skyscrapers and looted suburbs, punctuated by the sound of Evokers at their terrible labour. In the space between the Towers and the city, flights of Combat Mages in groups of fives and sixes swept the perimeter, occasionally stopping to put out a fire or start a new one.

Gunther tasted the acrid, burning air on his tongue. The city wouldn't be safe for the foreseeable future. Mermen hid in the sewers, in nooks and crannies in the city that would remain flooded until they were discovered and drained like abscesses.

NoMs were supposedly rioting in districts where they felt unhappy and oppressed, making them no-go areas for the rescue corps. Tens of thousands, if not hundreds of thousands of civilians required medical treatment.

Then there were innumerable people, NoMs and Mages, still trapped under rubble, collapsed passages, byways and highways.

There was the unenviable task of rebuilding the Shielding Station. The endeavour of reconstructing the infrastructure. The political obstacle course of repopulating the city with new migrants, both Mages and compliant NoMs. The labour would take years, perhaps even a decade.

Gunther hated to admit it, but Elizabeth had proven a terrible point—while the Towers were the answer, they were also the greatest weakness. Inside its ivory halls, the best of them had lacked conviction, while the worst of them had been full of passionate intensity.

As a gentry Magus who had spent his childhood in a tier-one city, Gunther feared the future wasn't going to go swimmingly. In the short term, it would be faster and safer, to simply move the precious cargo of Mages to the nearest tier-one city. In contrast, the NoMs would remain to rebuild under the watchful eye of a military government. Sydney would be a city ruled by martial law until its zones were deemed safe enough for human habitation.

By that same virtue, the repaired Tower would need a new Master.

Walken was going to be lucky if he escaped permanent stasis. Ferris lacked the gall to become the militant leader of a Frontier city. The other Magisters were busy with their domains, which left Gunther himself to apply for the position.

But he wasn't a Magister. Yes, his combat abilities far exceeded the average Magister. With Uther's vote and a few supporting tickets from the Middle Path Faction, there should be no questions as to his ascension. But did anyone want to assume the responsibilities of a broken city?

Gunther realised he did. It was his home, his Master's city, and he would see it thrive once more.

His thoughts then turned to his sisters-in-craft.

Alesia's physical body would need both magical healing and physical therapy. Her Astral Body would need re-tempering and time. She had done more than was necessary for the defence of the city, and he would ensure that she received the best medical attention that the Mageocracy offered. At the moment she'd almost perished, he'd felt genuine distress, a heart-rending regret that he couldn't give her the happiness she’d wanted while she’d lived.

Perhaps, Gunther thought solemnly to himself; it was time. He wasn't getting any younger, and Alesia would likely duel a competitor d'amour to the death. He was confident that Henry would have approved, been happy, even, that someone could finally keep an eye on his wayward daughter.

As for Gwen, Gunther's feelings were ambivalent. These crises that seemed to emerge one after another, all seemed to orientate around Gwen. First, his Master had decided to take her on as a protege, then she’d become involved with Mark Chandler. When that was said and done, his Master had wanted Gunther and Alesia to welcome their youngest sister-in-craft. To ensure that Gwen had a smooth progression, they orchestrated the whole Inter-High fiasco, where the intimate involvement of his Master ultimately led them to this dark place.

But blaming the girl was absurd, Gunther knew, even though he felt jaded by the coincidences that revolved around Gwen's uprising. She was like the proverbial black cat—all who crossed her path become victims of bane and boon.

"No." He took in a breath of crisp, cold air to clear his thoughts. If his sister-in-craft hadn't appeared in the eleventh hour, they would probably be all dead, and the Towers would be fishing for their cold corpses in the ruined city below. He should be thankful to Gwen for her sacrifices and her actions, whatever they may be, in bringing the serpent to their aid. Whatever had occurred, the city owed Gwen an irredeemable debt.

But all of that would have to wait, for the fires in the city still burned long and bright.

It was over.

The invasion wasn't over, but for Gwen, whatever the troubles of the city below no longer concerned her.

Now she could focus on the tasks that mattered.

Yue.

Elvia.

Whetu.

She was sure that they lived. If Alesia had escaped the Grot, then surely her friends could have fled its collapse also.

She wanted desperately to shake Alesia awake and demand to know how she survived, where her friends might be, but her sister-in-craft had fallen limp in Gunther's arms, too spent to remain lucid.

She now sat in the Melbourne Tower's hospital bays.

To the physician's surprise, Gwen had a perfect bill of health. Much to the shock of the healers, she was the most hale person they had ever seen. When the physician persisted in enquiring if she would mind participating in some tests, she fled the room and joined Alesia in her private quarters.

Her friend and mentor, however, would have many months of recovery ahead. As the night died, Gwen sat beside Alesia, waiting impatiently for the sorceress to recover from the milk of poppies and other semi-magical potions and poultices used to treat her. Now unfortunately alone with her thoughts, she relived the last twelve hours. Scene by scene, her mind worked through the cataclysmic change that had overcome her peaceful life with such violence and velocity.

Her Master—dead.

Her friends—disappeared.

Her sister-in-craft—seriously wounded.

Her city—a ruined hellscape of malicious Mermen, rioting NoMs, and loose Magical Creatures.

Herself—an avenger who had taken the satisfying morsel of blood-debt with a smiling face.

More than ever, she felt lost and without direction. Where did she go from here? What did the future hold? She wanted to rush off and save Yue and Elvia, and she didn't even know where or how.

A Message spell bloomed beside her face. Gwen answered it quietly. "Opa?"

The voice that came through was the gruff tenor of a moustachioed angel. "Gwen, my little cucu perempuan! Are you alright? Tell Opa that you're alright!"

Suddenly, she didn't feel so strong, so stoic, so powerful. She felt her eyes grow cloudy with unbidden emotions that were no longer in her control, her chest heaved. She could keep it inside no longer. "Oh," she began, "Oh, Opa…"

Chapter forty-six

When Time is Short

Consciousness dawned.

Gwen rose to met the surprised expression of the nightshift nurse, one hand still hovering over her shoulder.

"S-sorry," she mumbled, lifting her head off the bed. Her eyes were still puffed from the exhaustive emotions of the night before. When a silver thread of drool lingered between herself and Alesia's sheets, she reddened with mortification. Together with her dishevelled hair, it gave her a pitiable, tragic air.

"There's a foldout bed in there, sweetie." The nurse, a middle-aged blonde woman with a gentle face, stifled a mirthful chuckle and pointed her to the guest's couch. They were in a VIP room reserved for executives and the furniture allowed for overnight stays. It wasn't unusual for loved ones, Apprentices or close associates to stay and watch over the patient.

"Thank you." Gwen removed herself from the bed. It must be early morning now, for a soft phosphorescence flushed the drawn curtains. In a few hours, the new day's sun would shed its light on the full extent of the disaster below.

The nurse patiently recorded Alesia’s biometric readings before turning to Gwen. "Do you want something to eat, hon? We have a full-time kitchen down the hall. There's an officer's mess on the second level as well."

Gwen intended to decline, mindful of Alesia, but the motherly matron reminded her that she hadn't eaten since the previous morning. They were supposed to have had a luncheon after the Rosebay challenge. Now it was the following day. She had gone without food for a full seventeen hours.

When her stomach loudly protested, the nurse chuckled. "Come on then." She inclined her head. "It's just downstairs and across the hall. I'll take you over."

Gwen followed the nurse.

"My, you're a tall one!" the woman remarked as they proceeded down the hall. "You might want to get a fresh change of clothes. The canteen's a real riot of folks at the moment. Mostly junior officers."

It was then that Gwen registered that she was still wearing the loose robe she had slung over her body after her gleeful murder of Faceless. It was still speckled with dark blood. Combined with the hospice's slippers, if she sauntered into the mess, she would resemble an escapee from an asylum. "Yes, I'll change first, thank you."

The nurse smiled gently and directed her to a suitable change room.

Sliding herself between the narrow doors into a mirrored cubicle, Gwen pulled the robe from her body and stored it within her ring, then wiped herself down with a wet towel. The cubicle had a tall mirror that ran the length of the door frame. Against all expectations, she appeared hale and well-toned, different from the anorexic body she had inhabited for the last six months.

It was the gift of vigour from Almudj, whose restorative Essence had given her a new lease on life.

How long would it last this time? How many Void spells could she sustain before she was spent once more? Sobel had seemed immune to the bane of negative enervation. As for herself, who knew?

She raised a hand and touched the jade Kirin around her neck, caught between the swell of her modest breasts. Its texture was as smooth and fleshy as lamb-fat jadeite, cosy, like her flesh and blood.

The Amulet was another secret to unravel in the days to come.

Putting her thoughts aside, Gwen sorted through the folded piles of clothing held in stasis. With consideration for the company of stone-faced Mages and crisply-uniformed officers, she opted for the penguin-coloured dress she'd worn for Rosebay.

Her Mary Janes, now a veteran of many crises, had seen better days. The shit these shoes had seen… Gwen puckered her lips. Maybe one day the pair would awaken as an enchanted pair of sentient shoes. “I have no mouth, and I must scream” and all that.

While she brushed out her shoulder-length hair, coiling the dark cascade into a convenient braid, an unbidden thought struck her chest.

According to Faceless, Debora had been dead since a year before. Who was going to tell Debora's parents and how should they recount it? Would a kindly worded letter from the Frontier government suffice? Debora's parents were well aware that their daughter was best friends with her and had even seen lumen pictures of the two of them, cowboy hats and all, hanging out arm-in-arm in the outback.

Just the thought of those moments made her ill.

With a wave of her hand, Gwen collected her towels, her clothes and her makeup, packing away her troubled thoughts along with the miscellanea. After a final inspection of her reflection, she left the changing stall and made for the canteen.

The mess hall wasn't far from the VIP wards, accessed after descending a set of stairs and traversing through the corridors. The galleries of the Melbourne Tower had been created for utility rather than security, focused upon the pragmatic delivery of goods and services to the frontline Mages. The section which Gwen inhabited was reserved for officers, with the medical wards situated on the lower floor, a few corridors from the junior officer's shared quarters. The senior officers had their quarters on the second floor.

The nurse had been right. Gwen heard the noise before she'd even neared the rowdy premises. When she arrived, engineers, soldiers, medical staff and officers packed the mess to the rafters. Food was served buffet style in heated trays. Beside each counter, a loose line of hungry Mages made their way through the selection, primarily congregating near the roasts.

Curious eyes rose from plates to regard Gwen as she entered, surprised to see someone of her age present within the monastery fortress of Melbourne Tower. A few of them grinned, making her doubt herself. The bacon looked good, however, so she ignored their enquiring looks. Retrieved a tin tray, she gathered a towering assortment of toast, muesli, yoghurt and packets of fruit preserves. When she passed the bacon line, she again felt her skin crawl. Was it her Divination Sigil? As a novice, she couldn't tell. A few chuckles were exchanged amongst the junior officers, then, much to her chagrin, one of the young men began making his way over.

Gwen found a table with a spare seat and placed her tray upon the stainless steel bench top.

But her action was not enough to deter the determined. The junior officer must have been “somebody”, because the men and women around her left their seats without so much as a glance.

Gwen cursed and lowered her head. She hoped she appeared so engrossed in her breakfast that the man would take the hint and realise that conversation was undesired.

A looming shadow appeared over her buttered toast. Without a clang, the young man sat across from her, placed his hand under his chin, and stared at her intently.

The presumptuous officer wasn't a bad-looking sort, but she was hardly in the mood. The single stripe of blue-on-navy by his collar indicated his rank as Pilot Officer, likely one of the Aerial Combat Mages stationed within the Tower. Gwen knew most of the young Mages stationed in the Sydney Tower, which meant this junior officer was either from Melbourne or Brisbane.

"Hey." The young man split his lips to reveal a set of gleaming teeth. "The name's Daniel. What's a girl like you doing in a place like this?"

Gwen wasn't a novice in the art of the insufferable "pickup". She could read his braggadocio like a cheap book. Usually, she would move away or politely bear the unwanted attention, but she was in no mood to be pushed around by some entitled imbecile.

She looked up from her plate and met his eyes, channelling a little lightning to her eyes so that her iris took on an intimidating electric hue. She raised a piece of toast in one hand, and without breaking eye contact, proceeded to butter it.

"If you don't speak English, I've got a Translation Stone you can borrow."

Gwen followed up by patiently lathering strawberry jam over the toast. She folded the bread over and delivered the calorie infused morsel to her mouth. Still maintaining eye contact, she chewed.

Daniel held his composure, but when his friends began to snigger, his patience was at an end. "You know, it's rude to ignore someone who's speaking to you. Who's your Master? I ought to have a word about your manners."

Gwen's eyes glowed. A static charge passed between the metallic benchtop and the offending heckler. Daniel tore his hands from the table as though bitten by something fierce, tumbling backwards and tripping over his seat. With a clang that drew every eye from the room, the junior officer fell onto his elbows and made a right spectacle of himself.

"Civilian bitch!" he spat, climbing up on all fours. “Show some respect! I am an officer of the Frontier Aerial Service!"

Gwen felt such ire simmering at her throat that murder was an option she was willing to consider. Her eyes, two vehement orbs full of malice, were ready to swallow the young man whole. With a word, she'd call on Caliban, and then—

"Oi! Miss Song doesn't want to speak to you," they were interrupted by another junior officer. This one added a quick "sir" after glancing at her harasser's lapels.

Gwen swallowed the murder rising in her chest and regarded the three who'd come to her aid. She was surprised to find that she knew these young officers. The one who had spoken was Julius, one of the young men she'd often conversed with on her trips to visit Master Henry.

"Out of my way, cadet," Daniel spat. "I have business with that girl."

"I am afraid I can't do that, sir," Julius said.

The other two beside him stood lockstep with the cadet. Watching the spectacle, someone in the crowd asked his neighbour who might this 'Ms Song' be. Another turned to address the questioner. "Lord Henry's protege."

"The late Lord Kilroy?"

"The very same."

A few of the watchers took on expressions of schadenfreude.

"Poor Hopkins, there goes his promotion. Wait ’til Lord Gunther hears about this."

“I’ve yet to see a man Polymorph into a dog… until now.”

Her harasser's face turned ashen.

Gwen wondered if now was a good time to brush the matter off. There were Mermen below and there was a city to be purged.

"Hopkins! Stand down!" a voice familiar to Gwen called out from the corridor.

"Sir! Yes, sir!" Hopkins snapped to attention, his subliminal training kicking in.

The rest of the canteen likewise stood to attention as a man badged with triple stripes, two broad and one thin, entered the mess. A secondary insignia with a stave and two entwined serpents showed that the officer hailed from the medical corps. As the crowd parted, the military Mages moved to salute, while the civilian Mages stood aside to show their respect.

"Major!" Daniel Hopkins stood ramrod straight, sweat already beading on his forehead.

The moustachioed officer turned his seawater eyes toward Gwen and gave her a benevolent smile.

"Jonas!" Gwen uttered in surprise. "You're here!"

"How could I not be?" Jonas replied. "I am sorry I wasn’t there when it all went down."

"I am sorry too." Gwen sighed, brushing a wayward strand of hair from her face. Her voice became low and ridden with guilt. "Alesia's badly hurt."

"I know. We're here to see if there's anything we can do."

"We?"

Two more figures appeared behind Jonas, edging through the crowd.

"Paul! Taj!"

"Gwen! Good God, am I glad you're alright!" Paul came through the crowd and embraced her, squeezing her tightly. "After I sent you guys through, we lost contact. I almost died from worry!"

"I am alright right now, but…" Gwen squeezed the Conjurer back, feeling guilty that she had to be the bearer of bad news.

"Yeah, I know."

"Hey Sparky, I am glad you're alright."

The Abjurer exchanged a hug with Gwen as well. "Thanks, Taj. Where's Billy?"

"He's locked up with the intel division until all of this's cleaned up," Taj replied. "Else he'd be here in a heartbeat. You know he's still got the hots for you, right?"

"Taj!"

The men shared a good laugh at Gwen's expense. Through dozens of years apart, what they shared in common was a special love for Alesia.

As Gwen and the decorated squad freely conversed, the crowd around them could no longer contain their curiosity.

"Did you see that?" a voice spoke excitedly. "The girl's acquainted with Major Durn."

"There's also Captain Phillip and Captain Mckay!"

"You idiot, didn't you hear? she was the late Lord Henry's protege."

"But Lord Kilroy's only got two."

"Use your brain!"

Having exchanged pleasantries, Jonas turned to the petrified statue that was Daniel. "No rest for the wicked, Hopkins. You're on double duty for the next fortnight, is that understood?"

"Sir! Yes, sir!" Daniel's voice rose an octave higher.

"Dismissed!"

Daniel snapped a salute and moved past them. He paused when he reached Gwen's side and bowed.

Gwen nodded, embarrassed to be the centre of attention.

"So, making trouble and it’s not even six am." Jonas chuckled and pulled out the bench below them, offering Gwen her seat. "You want to join us in the upstairs mess? It's for senior officers. Better food, better decor, less noisy."

Gwen shook her head. "I was done anyway."

"You should eat more! You're stick and bones! Put more meat on there like Alesia."

A wan smile cracked across Gwen's lips.

A female junior officer brought them tea and coffee, setting them down carefully beside each of them. Gwen was surprised to find that she was among that number.

"So, a hell of a mess, huh." Paul began, "What'd you guys do?"

Jonas went first, speaking about his experience during the entire ordeal. With the incoming Leviathan and the loss of Message Towers, he'd gathered up the men under his command and made for the CBD. There, they'd met up with other officers leading rag-tag bands of civilian militia and made a stand against the incoming tide of Mermen. As the conversation continued, Jonas admiringly spoke about seeing Gunther flitting about the city, as well as hearing a strange story about a masked Mage with the power of pink salt, saving civilians wherever he went.

"You too?" Taj raised an eyebrow. "One of my junior officers said that she was saved by a Mage who changed the Mermen into pillars of pink salt."

"Which one?"

"Katie from the third ground division."

"Oh, she's a nice gal, glad to know she's alright. Fantastic Transmuter, that one," Paul commented with a whistle.

Their conversation skirted around the topic of Alesia for a while, with Gwen listening bemusedly to their military banter.

"So what happened to the Rosebay girls, the juniors, I mean?" Gwen asked Paul.

"After you guys left, we holed up for a while. But when things started to get shaky, I used the emergency Glyph key that Ferris left behind and opened up a Teleportation circle to their sister school, Lilith's."

"Did everyone get out?"

"Yeah, thank God. Lilith's three suburbs away from the Parramatta River, so they weren't flooded. They were hella surprised though when their teleportation circles fired up by themselves, though. Almost blasted us when we started appearing by the dozen."

"What did you do afterwards?"

"Tried my best to link up with the boys. Didn't find anyone, not with the Tower down."

The group kept on with small talk for a while until Jonas paused mid-conversation to listen to a Message. The medical Mage turned to the table and stood from his chair. "Alesia's up."

Gwen stood up so fast that the bench shot out behind her, almost tripping Paul as he tried to rise.

"Let's go together," Jonas advised.

The group followed. They made their way down the corridor and up the stairs until they reached the VIP ward.

The very same nurse was clearing out a cart full of bandages and other medical supplies. She looked up to see Gwen and her company of ranking officers. "My, my, you cleaned up well." She beamed brightly at Gwen before turning to Jonas and tilting her head respectfully. "Doctor Durn."

"Sister." Jonas nodded back. "Is Magus de Botton's condition promising?"

The nurse said nothing. She handed over a chart clipped to her cart. Jonas' face turned a shade darker as his eyes scanned the report.

"Jonas…" Gwen fought the acid reflux.

"Let's go in."

The four of them filed into the room.

Alesia was leaning against a pillow, staring out the window through drawn curtains. Though early, the horizon outside had already taken on a warmer hue, casting the room in a soft, velvety shadow. The bed had been elevated, giving her a comfortable incline upon which her head rested.

The once vivacious Mage's lips were bloodless, her cheeks sallow and sunken, her bright eyes buried in two dark, concentric circles.

Gwen's eyes moistened. To see Alesia like this, so wasted and defeated, was heartbreaking. To think the first time she'd seen her, Gwen had thought Alesia the most beautiful, most vibrant woman she had ever seen in all her years.

"Gwen. Everyone." Alesia's sonorous and sultry voice now had an exhausted quality to it.

"What happened?" Gwen questioned Jonas. "She wasn't this bad yesterday."

Jonas sighed deeply and moved to the bed. "You always push yourself so hard…" he said softly.

The other two were visibly disturbed as well. Palpably, the atmosphere grew despondent.

"Jonas…"

"It's soul burn," Jonas replied. "An advanced form of mana burn. When a Mage channels mana to manifest spells, they tap into the Astral body, via command Sigils, tapping into the elemental planes to empower the phenomenon. When mana burn occurs, unspent mana lingers in your Astral Body and causes physical harm to your body in the material realm.

"Soul burn is when a Mage tries to over-channel spells beyond their capacity and ends up exerting their Astral body itself. When one's soul is damaged, the physical body grows frail and consumptive."

"Is there a cure?" Gwen inquired anxiously.

"Time and care," Jonas said, turning to Alesia. "Meaning no more combat for the foreseeable future."

Alesia groaned.

"I am serious," Jonas intoned sternly.

Before Jonas could speak again, Gwen reached out with a trembling hand for Alesia.

"Alesia," Gwen began. "Can you tell me if…"

"The girls are alright," Alesia replied confidently, guessing Gwen's enquiry. "Whetu as well. They're in the Grot still."

"They're alright?" Gwen asked sceptically.

Alesia nodded. "Hypothetically, of course. What I mean is that I don't see why the trio wouldn't be alright, as long as they remain in the Grot."

"Where are they now? Where's the Grot?" Gwen inquired. She wanted nothing more than to teleport there and rescue her friends.

Alesia's eyes fluttered with fatigue, becoming short of breath from the exertion of speaking. Jonas moved to support her back, channelling a gentle stream of Positive Energy into Alesia's torso.

"Thanks, Jonas." Alesia breathed out. "Gwen, I say the girls are alright because the Grot is a real place, not a pocket dimension that collapses when the caster dies. What Master had created was a direct portal that led into the mystical home of the Dryads, Sufina's private sanctum. It's in a Black Zone."

"A Black Zone?"

Alesia nodded. "A place not fit for human habitation."

Gwen's distress mounted. "You said they were safe! If they're in a Black Zone…"

"I know, let me finish." Alesia continued after a short pause. "Neither Gunther nor I know where the Grot is exactly, but I know that it's in a place called Kapulauan Riau, an uninhabited island chain off the coast of Singapore."

Gwen's skin turned clammy. "That's Mermen territory." She recalled her Geography lessons. Most of the cities of the Micronesian and Indonesian peninsula had been lost a decade ago. The only beacon of human civilisation there now was the port city of Jakarta, as well as the most significant transport hub in Oceania—the Fortress city of Singapore.

"Never fear, the Sprites who inhabit those islands are old and ancient. I would venture to say that they're worshipped by the Mermen, who trade them the treasures of the sea and the occasional human for Golden Mead."

"What do they need humans for?" Gwen asked alarmingly. "Do they eat them?"

Alesia's face took on a spot of colour. "Anyway." She coughed. "Usually, when a conjured creature loses its Master, it also loses its ego, its animus, together with important, shared memories. However, sentient creatures such as Dryads have independent memories that exist outside of the empathic link shared with the Conjurer. It means that as long as the girls remain in the Grot, Sufina should be caring for them as we speak."

"And Whetu?"

"He'll be… kept busy, I imagine."

Gwen's quizzical look made Alesia roll her eyes. "What I am saying is that they're all safe, at least for a while. Dryads have long memories. As long as they don't try to exit the Grot, they'll be fed and kept plump and healthy until rescue arrives."

"Presuming they stay put?"

"Yes."

"But Yue's with them."

Alesia’s lips pursed. The Scarlet Sorceress stared into the middle distance after considering a few scenarios in her head. "They may be in immediate danger." Alesia's face took on a paler hue. "We need to rescue them as soon as possible!"

"What's the fastest way to Singapore?" Gwen asked.

"No!" Jonas lifted his hand from Alesia's back and the sorceress sagged back into the cushions. "You need to rest!"

"Jonas, please…" Alesia begged.

"No means no."

Gwen looked from Jonas to Alesia.

"I have to find them," she said sternly. "I don't know how, but I have to. I am beyond persuasion."

"It's too reckless, Gwen!" Paul interjected.

"Paul's right. You're just going on a suicide mission," Taj said.

Gwen felt taken aback by their logical apathy. "I need to go," she spat back at them, feeling a boiling, irrational resentment rising in her chest. "I'll go by myself if I have to."

"How?" Taj, who was more unmediated thanks to his Earthen element, snapped back at Gwen. "You have no ship, no power, no resource, no team. How are you going to go?"

Gwen's fists balled on reflex. Suddenly, she wanted more than anything to punch Taj's face. Yue and Elvia. They were her friends! Her only family in this world! What was there to live for if not for the company of Yue and Elvia? Had it not been for them, she would have lost all hope in this second life, taken by the undertow of the Void.

If only she could be like Alesia or Gunther and have the power and freedom to do what she needed! If she was powerful like Gunther, or even Alesia in her prime, she could fly off right now and save her friends.

"Shut up!" Gwen felt her voice croak. Unbelievably, the frustration was causing her to tear up. "Shut up, please."

Taj lowered his eyes. "I understand how you feel, but your wish is impossible."

"How about—" Paul interjected.

"We can't," Jonas cut off Paul's rhetorical question. "We have duties here."

"But I can't leave them! I need your help!" Gwen pleaded.

Her demand hung in the air, strangling the conversation until Alesia disrupted the awful tension. "Alright folks, listen to me." She spoke plosively, wincing as she did so, pronouncing each of her words with forceful intent. "Taj, Paul, Jonas. I am asking you—"

"Alesia—" Jonas began.

"Shut up and listen," Alesia said, demonstrating her famously short fuse. "I am not dead yet." She took a deep breath. "Nothing leaves this room."

Taj nodded. He formed a circular invocation with his hands. A clear mana shield sprang up around them, cutting off sound and contact from outside.

"Gwen is the youngest apprentice of my Master."

The three held their breath.

"She is far more talented than me. She can access Conjuration, Evocation, Divination, even a bit of Transmutation."

Three throats swallowed simultaneously.

"She is in command of the Lightning element, as well as the Void."

The men turned to Gwen for affirmation. The teenager nodded demurely.

The men quaked.

Alesia continued her merciless onslaught. "So listen well to what I am telling you now. One day, Gwen will become more important than all of us. One day, she will bear the legacy of my Master, become an Omni-Mage who will carry on the will of Noblesse Oblige. One day, she may be the Sorcerer Supreme who brings peace to our cities, mayhap even to humanity itself. Do you understand?"

"Alesia, that's too much—" Gwen began, but she cut her off. The exhausted Magus turned to face her teammates with eyes that were serious and purposeful. "But Gwen is not yet strong, just as I wasn't strong when you first met me. When I needed help, I had you guys to back me up, to fill in for my weaknesses, to look out for me. You guys were my pillars."

The men listened intently, their eyes filling with nostalgia and remembrance.

"Gwen also has pillars," Alesia continued. "She has a kind and loving friend with a fiery temper, just like me, called Yue Bai. You all know Yue and how fond I am of her. When I think of her, I think of myself when I was younger. Her talent is likewise extraordinary and may one day exceed even mine. Assuming she has a chance to grow.

"Gwen has another pillar, her spiritual and physical support, called Elvia Lindholm. Elvia is sweet and innocent and loving; when you hold her in your arms and smell her hair, you can feel at peace. She is a restorative balm for the soul."

Alesia had to take a deep breath before continuing. "Gwen cannot lose her supports. She cannot lose those girls, just like I cannot lose you guys. If any of you guys are in danger, if any of you were stuck in that Grot, I would jump off this bed right now and crawl over to Indonesia, do you understand?"

The trio listened intently. A gust of dust must have blown into the room, for allergies simultaneously afflicted their eyes.

"I can't tell you the specifics, but I am telling you right now, that were it not for Gwen, you'd all be dead. We owe her our lives, all of us! My life, your life, his life, Gunther's life, every Mage in the damn city! She did that for us, without asking for anything in return. So when I ask you to help Gwen, it is so that you and I can pay back just a little of that debt."

The room was silent but for the sound of Alesia's exhausted panting.

Jonas was the first to reply, then the others followed earnestly. "I understand."

"Me too."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Good. I am tired." Alesia sunk back into bed, her face white as a sheet. "You ungrateful bastards almost killed me all over again."

"Thank you." Gwen held her hand and kissed it. She raised the cold flesh and placed it upon her cheeks, where it became stained with the wetness escaping from her eyes.

"Little fool," Alesia said quietly. "Take care of my men."

"I will."

The four of them watched Alesia fall asleep, her chest rising and falling with comfortable cadence. They filed out of the room and gathered in the corridor.

"We're in your care." Jonas nodded solemnly towards Gwen.

Gwen turned to the three of them and bowed deeply.

Paul interjected, preventing her from making the full supplication. "We're all banking favours with a future Magister," the translocation specialist joked. "Anyway, we want to do this. For you, for Alesia. It's important to us."

"I am glad I can help as well. I was feeling something awful back there," Taj confessed. "Though we're missing a number for a full party."

Jonas tapped his fingers against his thighs. "Don't get too ahead of yourselves," he warned them. "We still got a major hurdle ahead."

The three turned to regard the major.

"What?" Jonas looked at them incredulously. "You don't think Lord Gunther is just going to let Gwen waltz into a Black Zone, do you?"

Chapter forty-seven

The Salty Saviour

Gunther's temporary HQ had found its home in the Melbourne Tower, where the residing Master, Guldric Uther, had been kind enough to lend the Sydney Mages a portion of it as a Forward Operating Base.

Upon Gwen’s arrival, a plague of reporters was already beating down the door to the sanctum, swamping the Paladin. Thus far, the opinion of the press centred upon two narratives—one, that Gunther and the Tower had failed the city; two, that Gunther was a saviour wunderkind who’d pushed back the inevitable.

Within the Tower itself, there was the matter of Walken's punishment, Henry's negligence over the issue of Elizabeth for the last three decades, and finally, the old Master's funeral. The funeral especially became a point of controversy, as some argued that a dead Magister served as a perfect scapegoat. In response, Gunther promised retribution and blood for anyone who dared taint his teacher's obituary.

With the death of their Master, the fact that Alesia and Gunther were Henry's pupils escaped into the public domain. As for Gwen, her inclusion among that number would wait, for the crisis and controversy of the moment would only serve to endanger her. For the interim, at least until Alesia was back in shape and Gunther could solidify his base, her anonymity offered the best protection.

Likewise, the power vacuum left by the sudden departure of two Magisters, both Henry Kilroy and Eric Walken, as well as the death of over a hundred Mages, opened up Tower positions which were salivated over by those whose aspirations had been stifled by the influence of the incumbents.

Gwen walked behind the men as they approached the double doors to Gunther's office, appearing as an attaché to the major and his two captains. Quickly, the reporters parted. While Alesia's adventuring party wasn't as famous as the flame-hearted madcap sorceress herself, the reporters knew well that Major de Botton had fought beside Gunther Shultz and was mortally wounded.

Still, some couldn't read the mood.

"Major Durn, can you comment on the current condition of Magus de Botton?"

"Captain, what is your opinion on the unknown phenomenon known as the Dark Sun?"

"Major, how do you respond to accusations of negligence in duty on the part of Lord Kilroy?"

"Captain!"

"Major!"

"Sir!"

The group pushed through the reporters nosing for a scandal. When they'd reached the entrance, two guards opened double doors to reveal Gunther at his table, inundated by a mountain of paperwork.

The team passed through, then the doors boomed close behind them, cutting off the reporters.

"Good to see you guys. Gwen, I am happy to see you've recovered." As he spoke, Gunther pulled himself away from the hilly terrain of crisis-reports with the expression of a crystal miner who's finally seeing the light.

It was the first time Gwen had seen Gunther in such an officious capacity. The room that her brother-in-craft had appropriated was an impressive rectangle with tall, vaulted ceilings covered with murals of demons and angels. Behind the Paladin, twin bay windows looked out onto the still smoking city below, a reminder that they were taking up the man's precious time.

With a word, Gunther waved away the men and women who'd been working through documents and memos and told them to take a coffee break while he sorted out some private matters. Several of the staffers looked toward Gwen with familiarity written over their faces; one of them even acknowledged her presence and gave a little nod.

Gwen approached the table and bowed, causing the Radiant Magus to stand. Gunther skirted the table and gave Gwen a cordial embrace, telling her to be at ease and to treat the place as if her own. He then left the table and opened up the alcohol cabinet, pouring out several glasses for the gathered guest.

The men received whiskey. Gwen received a glass of icy water. Gingerly, she sipped the chilled water to calm her nerves. She waited until they were all settled in, then informed Gunther of her request.

When the group had finished their tale, the Paladin fell into a deep contemplation.

"All feeling and no brain, I'd thought you better than this, Gwen," Gunther noted after a few seconds of disapproving silence. "Now of all times, to send you away is something that complicates matters unnecessarily."

"Gunther, I have to help them. I can't back down on that." Gwen met the Magus' steely eyes with her own, trying her best to keep her tone controlled and tempered. She had already presented their case and now engaged the issue from another standpoint. "Besides, it's our Master's Grot! It has to be you, Alesia or myself, and I'm the only one who's free. After all that happened, God knows what Sufina would do if strangers forced their way into the Grot. The place is special for all of us, if only because Sufi is our companion."

Gunther clinked the ice in his glass.

The atmosphere was reserved at best. Gwen and her companions nursed their drinks and held their breath while the gears turned in Gunther's head.

"Fine," the Paladin said finally.

The team breathed sighs of relief. If they were to leave without Gunther's blessing, the matter would be infinitely complicated.

"But I am not letting you just go out there without some contingencies. You're still missing a member."

"Who do you suggest?" Taj inquired, swishing the melted ice in his drained glass. Gunther motioned for the crystal decanter, but the Abjurer declined.

"Someone close to Gwen, who knows how to keep a secret. Someone highly competent, capable and trustworthy, who wouldn't expose Gwen's secrets."

"Surely you're not suggesting yourself?" Paul raises an eyebrow. While it would be pretty amazing to have Gunther himself joining them, it would come at a high cost to the city, to Gunther, and the Towers. Unlike Gwen, the de facto leader of the Sydney Tower couldn’t just uproot himself in a crisis and go galavanting into a Black Zone.

Gunther returned the half-glass of amber liquid to the mahogany table with an audible thunk. "I know the matter is urgent, and that you're desperate to leave." He turned to Gwen. "But give me a day, at worst two, to sort out transport, identification and the location of your last member. For the time being, I highly recommend going to see your grandfather. If you recall, he was Master's squadmate. He can probably tell you more about Sufina, as well as the whereabouts of the Grot."

Gwen felt epiphany dawn upon her. She'd been so anxious over Gunther refusing their request to rescue her friends that she'd completely forgotten about Surya! The Old Codgers’ Club had known each other since they were young men and women, serving in the Saurian Conflict and then through the Coral Sea War. Undoubtedly, Opa could shed some light on the matter.

"Thank you," with a moist twinkle in her eye, Gwen allowed her next words flow over her tongue before allowing it to escape her parted lips, "Brother Gunther."

Gunther paused for a barely perceptible moment, then his face broke into an earnest grin. "With one title, you've dug a hole I can't possibly escape from." He chuckled accusingly. "You're better than a Mind Mage, Gwen."

"I am grateful, Gunther, really.” Gwen felt tension drain from her shoulders. "Thank you for helping my friends."

"Come, sister."

To Gwen's surprise, Gunther leaned across, opening his arms. Her astonishment lingered only a second before she wrapped her long arms around his broad waist. Though it was unfortunate that Gunther smelled as though he'd worked through the night, she didn't mind. With her entire being, she welcomed the warmth of a brother with such an unshakable sense of responsibility and diligence for duty. "I am sorry about our Master."

"I am too."

When they parted, Gunther gingerly took Gwen by the arm. His bear-like mitts extended to hold her small white hand within his own as he incanted a familiar invocation that Henry had performed in the past. A gentle glow suffused Gwen's body, and she felt something disappear within the realm of her Astral Body.

"The… Geas?" Gwen marvelled. She had forgotten entirely about her Geas! It was by blind luck that she hadn't given up anything about her bond with the Rainbow Serpent, else things would have assuredly taken a turn for the worse.

"Give me your Tracking Ring."

Gwen removed the enchanted tracker from her ring finger. It was a gift from Henry that revealed her position when scried by a Diviner. She placed it in Gunther's hands.

Beside her, Gunther likewise removed a silver band from his fingers. "Don't let Alesia see this," he joked. "Knowing her, she'd immediately misunderstand." His band was a loop of pure mithril, glinting with that distinct, mana-dense aura specific to the ultra-rare mineral. Meeting at the apex of the crown was a priceless cat's eye that sat between tiny claw-footed mountings. "A Contingency Teleportation Ring," he said. "Made with an Evil-eye's optic Core."

Beside him, the eyes of Taj, Paul and Jonas glowed with appreciation and desire. An item like this was like a second life.

"If you are mortally wounded, the ring will teleport you to the closest Tower," the Magus explained.

To their shock, Gunther slipped the ring onto Gwen's ring finger, where her tracker had been.

"As usual, there's a tracking enchantment to allow for easy scrying from the Tower. Don't ever take it off. If you lose it without wilfully commanding it to disengage, it will send a teleportation Marker and an SOS to the closest Tower."

Gwen felt the warmth of the ring on her finger. Her white legs had already been knock-kneed when Gunther had dispelled her Geas, now, they were jelly. Having seen Edgar escape certain death thanks to his ring, she knew just how precious this item was. Her brother-in-craft was lending her his second life. "No! Gunther, I can't. It's too precious. You need it!"

"Nonsense." Gunther waved a hand. "I'll be stuck here for the foreseeable future; until I move back into the Tower. Then I'll be stuck there for the foreseeable future. What need do I have for Contingency Ring when I am battling paperwork?"

"But—"

"No buts!" Gunther appeared taken with the role of a benevolent elder sibling, finding the joy that Henry must have felt when doting upon a young Apprentice. "If you die saving Alesia's Apprentice, do you think Alesia will let me have peace as long as I live? If you were killed by, say, a faction of Mages from Singapore, do you think Alesia will leave the city standing?"

"Err…" Gwen felt the words catch in her throat.

"Think of it as us helping you." Gunther smirked, touching the emptiness on his finger where a contingency ring had sat for a decade. "Let the ring be insurance. Promise me you'll be more of yourself and less of Alesia out there. Don't put yourself in unnecessary danger. Know your limits and trust your friends and allies. Don't try to do everything yourself. Listen to Jonas and the others."

"I'd look ten years younger if Alesia did that," Jonas quipped, touching a finger to his white handlebar moustache.

"Agreed. I am losing hair," Taj said.

"That's just male pattern baldness," Paul interjected, inciting deathly glare from Taj.

Gwen felt the ring on her finger. The weight of it was incredible. All that expectation and hope, anticipation and trust, bound up in one Mithril band.

"If you're not going to wear that ring, Gwen," Paul noted sternly. "I suggest you stay on the PT boat while we bushwhack the jungle."

Gwen met Gunther's steel-grey eyes, her own striking hazel eyes returning his benevolent gaze with gratitude and thankfulness. "Thank you, Gunther," Gwen said to her brother-in-craft.

Gunther awkwardly rubbed the back of his head. Gwen shared the embarrassment until her brother-in-craft dispelled the awkwardness by moving to teach Gwen the glamour used to make the ring nondescript.

"So, it activates when my life force or biometrics are deemed critical?" She wanted to make sure she didn’t accidentally activate the ring casting Void spells or in the performance of some calculated incantations.

Gunther affirmed the need to be careful with her Void spells, as the designer of the ring had probably not taken self-draining Negative Energy into account.

"So what if I…" Gwen paused, her body becoming rigid.

"What if you…?" Gunther regarded his sister-in-craft.

Gwen's expression twisted with palpable horror. "GUNTHER!" she spat with furrowed brows and trembling lips. "Oh, God!"

Her gaze swept across the rest of the team.

Gwen's brain throbbed with inspiration. She’d figured it out! How could she have missed the obvious? The answer had been there all along! "Gunther… if a Tower is in Contingency Mode, can the ring still save my life?"

"Of course." Gunther nodded. "The Glyph-script within the ring is affirmed by a treaty. The ring acts as proof of your allegiance. Even if you teleport into a Tower held by another Faction, they're honour-bound to keep you safe, even if it's a temporary stay in an anti-magic prison. It's a quid pro quo system agreed upon by all parties."

"Can the Contingency Ring be tuned to a specific place, like your Tracking Ring? Can a student be teleported to the whereabouts of a Master?"

Gunther nodded. "Yes, that's one of the most popular uses for the ring—"

Gwen fought down the exhilaration. "I get it now," she said jubilantly to her brother-in-craft. "I know how Elizabeth Teleported into the Tower!"

There was silence in the room at first, then Gunther slammed his cup onto the table. The office became a whirlwind of gesturing hands and fingers as Gwen explained her theory to Gunther, who began calling in assistants and advisors. As they talked, calls were made and experts consulted.

Gunther delayed his appointments for the next hour while the group shared a light luncheon. When all was said and done, Gwen was proven right, at least in theory, and until practical experiments could be carried out.

It was indeed possible to use a Contingency Ring's bypass Teleportation design to force oneself into a Tower's systems. Furthermore, though untested, it was also possible to forcibly teleport oneself into a restricted region such as the Grot, which occupied both the Tower's space as well as the Grot's parallel pocket dimension. Though the theory had been floated once or twice before, there were no precedents. Thus, the warning had been forgotten in times of peace.

Gunther sighed. "I was going to nail Walken with abetting the enemy and letting a hostile Magister teleport into the Tower," he told them. "Now it seems, Gwen may have saved his life."

"Oh." Gwen expression soured.

Gunther waved his hands in the air, suggesting that she shouldn't worry about the mislead politician. "Keep the ring," he insisted. As for the potential loophole, greater powers in higher positions would be the ones to lose sleep over it, certainly not the genius sister-in-craft who had uncovered it. "There may be Contribution Credits involved. I'll keep you posted."

Gwen blinked. She had heard the term from Richard before but hadn't chanced upon them since the night they'd exchanged some closely guarded secrets. "What are Contribution Credits?"

"Something immeasurably useful or utterly useless, depending on where you are." Gunther advised. "But nothing's finalised so I wouldn't worry too much about it. You'll know when the time comes."

With luncheon finished, it was time to go.

"Take the Teleportation Circle down to Shielding Station forty-six. That should give you a direct flight path into the Hunter's region," Gunther advised. "I'll have your fifth party member sorted out soon, as well as your travel documents."

The group thanked Gunther and marched out. Once more, Gwen resumed her invisible intern persona while the burly men fended off the lumen recorders and pushed away nosy reporters baying for blood.

Behind her, the Paladin turned to his table where a stack of reports caught his curious eye, the foremost of which read: Preliminary Site Investigations—Watson Bay Shielding Station.

Regret. Morye knew it like one knew an old jilted lover.

He loathed the feeling, but like a moth to a flame, he kept returning to her embrace, suckling on her magnificent teat with the ferocity of a newborn babe.

He had escaped the old country to start a new, carefree life in this Frontier city, and yet all he did was rack up more baggage, becoming embroiled in a dazzling display of love debts.

Was he a playboy? Morye certainly didn't think so. He was not the sort of man who hit on women or used their injury to feed his ego. He wasn't a man who was lascivious or addicted to lovemaking. Morye merely enjoyed the company of woman more than most—their scent, their beauty, the softness of their voices and the giddiness he felt when they held his arm for comfort.

The only problem was he couldn't stomach the responsibility that inevitably came with the possessiveness. The desire to start a family, to settle down, to choke him with the collar called “the breadwinner” and demand that he picked up the kids after school.

He couldn't do that.

Helena had once demanded he explain himself, so Morye had imparted the wisdom that just as Abjurers shielded and Evokers shot Fireballs, so Morye Song was incapable of becoming the stereotypical husband. Such was the way of the world, he had explained. The same as water flowed down from high and dragons hatched as hermaphrodites, he was a man who couldn't help himself when it came to beautiful women.

After the nasty incident at the Shielding Station, he'd used the psychotic Dust Mage's Teleportation Scroll to will himself away. He'd ended up in Town Hall, a fair enough distance, not too far from Rosebay if a Mage took a crow's path to his destination.

His daughter had needed rescuing and Morye felt responsible for not once picking her up from school. At least this one time, he had told himself, he should do it. It was going to be a bloody and dangerous rescue, after which he would have executed his fatherly duty and could be at peace with his delicate conscience.

He had travelled no more than a dozen blocks when the tidal pods used by the Mermen started to rain down on the city, spilling fish-headed gooks of all shapes and sizes all over its broad avenues.

The Mermen were a strange lot, in Morye's opinion. Their preference for raiding human cities likewise made no sense when one considered the logistics of expending troops for negligible gain. He'd heard the popular theory that they were out for revenge; after all, humans ate a shit-ton of fish, as well as the notion that war against humanity was a kind of holy crusade issued by the sea priest to thin their overpopulated numbers.

The over-population theory had met with resistance in academic circles. After all, if the hypothesis held, why bother raiding the human cities and taking prisoners? Why not just file into the human cities and declare themselves sushi and sashimi? Morye was confident that humanity could handle as much seafood as the Mermen could march out of the sea. If so, the Lords of the Sea could thin their numbers and trade for goods and services!

Having survived the Northern Front, Morye had little sympathy for the stupid NoMs who'd ignored the call for shelter and had wandered through the streets aimlessly. Little sympathy, that is, until he’d spotted a lovely brunette number being dragged by two thuggish-looking brutes into an alley.

Immediately, his blood was up. They were in a crisis for God's sake! A horrid assault upon the city! Only blocks away, there were Mermen chopping people apart with claws, tearing them to shreds! How could these NoMs behave like such animals at a time like this?

"Salt Skin!"

A smooth layer of pink, crystalline salt covered Morye's body, adhering a film over his face, forming a featureless mask. As one of his favourite signature spells, he had spent a good number of years sculpting the invocation so that the transmuted carapace resembled a suit of crystalline-white medieval armour tinged with marbled pink, giving him a knightly, although anonymous, air.

With a hefty thunk, he landed in the alleyway. There, he saw a struggling woman who was halfway undressed at knifepoint. He glanced at her dishevelled state and shot two shards of monomolecular salt towards the thugs. The sound made by the crystalline projectiles slicing through flesh and bone was silken, punching through their limbs like a well-honed flenser carving ham-in-bone.

The men crumpled.

"Miss, are you alright? It's not safe here." Morye helped her up. She had erratic eyes that were wild with messy mascara and full red lips that were a little smeared. The scene was so titillating as to make his mind wander into dangerous territories of his own.

"Thank you." The woman avoided looking at the whimpering men beside her; one was holding a spurting arm stump, the other trying to piece his leg together. "They are my co-workers. I didn't… I didn't think…"

"The shelter's that way." Morye held her as she stumbled from the alleyway, her dress worse for wear and covered in blood. He materialised a jacket and hung it over her shoulders, lest she attracts other unkind eyes.

He’d wanted to leave right there and then, but the sight of her fixing her dress despondently while her eyes flashed with desperate signals made his protective instincts engorge. In the end, he took a quick detour and dropped the woman off at the entrance to the shelter, presided over by a few Militia Mages ushering folk into the bunker.

Having resumed his merry way to Rosebay, Morye was determined to get to Gwen as soon as possible. His daughter was the target of some very unpleasant people, and it was pivotal that he reached her before other, more nefarious forces.

Then he’d turned the corner, only to see a group of Mermen beating down a battle group of Militia Mages. The Mages were pushed back by the burly Crab men, who served as shields for the weaker fishheads. From the looks of it, the crustacean carapace exceeded the tier one to two Air spells utilised by the novice Evokers. As living battering rams, the beasts smashed through the Abjurer's Earth shields, snapping up the poor bastard with a swipe of their claws. When two of the burly crustaceans pulled a man apart like a blood-sausage piñata, it proved too much for the Evokers.

Dark lines creased all over Morye's forehead. This was why amateurs were useless in war.

He had just about left when one of the Evoker women pulled off her cumbersome hood to reveal ash-blonde curls framing a dazzling face. The girl appeared young, maybe in her late teens, at best her early twenties, screaming bloody murder as she scampered away from the Mermen on all fours. Morye paused mid-air, torn by indecision. He had to save his daughter! But how could he leave these Mages undefended, destined to be fish food?

The second Evoker stumbled and fell to her hands, which became bloody with nasty abrasions from the broken debris. When the first girl went to help her, she threw off her backpack and hood, revealing a similar head of flaxen locks matted by sweat and blood.

Sisters, Morye realised with a pounding heart. It would be a tragedy if their mother, who must also be a lovely blonde matron, were to lose two of her children in a single day. It was his duty as a Mage of superior power, gifted by fate, to ensure that these young women lived to see another day.

Behind the two girls, the Transmuter who had tried to bring up the rear proved too fragile to withstand the assault of the cruel Mermen. Even with Bark Skin and Enhanced Strength, he found himself caught between a dozen crab claws, held in the air while coral tridents skewered him like a kebab.

Horridly, some of the Mermen began to eat, digging for the young man's guts, his liver, his heart and brain, even as he screamed for the mercy of death.

The sight of their companion being eaten alive erased any thoughts of resistance from the girls. They fell on their bottoms, all courage and strength depleted, failing both the tests of fight or flight and instead choosing paralysis. Morye marvelled at their gamble— were the girls hoping that the Mermen were interested in living prisoners? If captured, what awaited them was infinitely worse than death.

Just as one of the fishheads approached with a seaweed-strew net, the sisters found themselves staring upward at a salt-carapace Demi-god.

"Foul beasts," Morye spat. "Know the retribution of man! Pillar of Salt!"

The modified Flame Strike materialised from thin air and slammed into the group of Mermen with terrific force. Negative Energy flooded the surrounding space, draining the life from the Mermen. At the same time, crystalline shards dug into their skin, sliced into the flexible joints between their carapaces, drawing out the moisture from their bodies.

Easy. Morye grinned. Like sautéing garlic butter lobster.

The elemental power of salt was brutally effective against water-based creatures by the simple virtue of its desiccating passive effect. Even if the Mermen survived the initial blast, the loss of moisture from their bodies ensured the ultimate collapse of their organs moments later.

The Mermen crumpled.

Morye turned to the two women, who stared at him with doe-eyed worship. The last survivor of the group of five, a plain-looking, nondescript broad, fled the scene.

" Thank you so much, Magus!"

"Thank you, sir!"

"I am June and this is Summer."

"We owe you our lives!"

The girls were beyond glad that, in the eleventh hour, a Magus with a rare Mineral Element had come and saved them. Morye looked at the two women, whose faces were similar, but each had a unique appeal. The taller one had a freckled nose that gave her a cherished air of vitality and youth, the shorter one had large, glassy eyes that hinted at a high level of compliance with a low level of situational awareness.

"I am glad you're alright," Morye said, feeling pleased with his efforts.

June and Summer were in a dishevelled stated, their tattered clothing revealing their graceful surfer's bodies beneath the robes.

"I should escort you to safety," Morye announced. "The shelter is not far from here."

"We need to join up with our battle group," one of the girls replied guiltily.

"Fine, I'll take you over, just point me in the right direction."

Unfortunately for Morye, another battle awaited him. When they arrived at the girls' FOB, he found the leader of their rag-tag battle group entrenched in a melee. The Militia had barricaded themselves with furniture, cars, road signs and any other opportunistic bric-a-brac they could find. Three dozen of them were fending off hundreds of menacing Mermen, led by a burly looking shark-cum-reptile.

Without a word, Morye dropped a Blade Barrier around the barricade, instantly turning the Mermen assault into sashimi dinners. As the pink-crystal blades churned, the shark-leader bellowed a challenge at him.

Morye moved to confront the shark-headed beast. He wasn't stupid enough to melee it. Instead, he dropped a Cone of Salt the moment he was close enough to cover the shark captain and his guards. As usual, the desiccating spells proved too much for the fish folk. After the magic had passed, all that remained were comical dried fish jerky wearing armour and carrying semi-enchanted weapons of the depths.

The leader of the Militia was a young officer called Katie Rhodes, who introduced herself and supplicated before Morye, demonstrating the most heartfelt genuflection she could show.

Morye examined the young commander. She had cropped the hair about her ears, and liquid, brown eyes alive with hope and vigour, giving her face an enduring quality that made one want to embrace its beautiful vivacity. The Salt Mage felt his heart aflutter, feeling a little lost in the allure of the girl’s face.

"Sir, thank you for saving us." Such vivid eyes the girl possessed! So intimate and familiar, so pretty.

Morye mentally kicked himself. Focus! Think of Gwen!

Without a word, he steeled his resolved and flew into the sky, no longer keeping his eyes upon the disturbance of the ground below.

Gwen! I am coming!

And find his wayward daughter he did.

Though the outcome was somewhat more ambivalent than Morye had hoped. There was no tearful rescue, no screaming for help. Instead, he had to act as a witness to her horrid mutilation of some poor sod. Afterwards, he watched her blast off into the sky with a green glow and realised that his daughter was all grown up. At that moment, he felt like a useless father who'd spent years neglecting his daughter, and when he'd finally found her again, she'd married a seven-foot biker and was holding a baby sporting a rat-tailed mullet at the tender age of three. Then the biker-husband turned to Morye and asked, “Who the fuck are you?”

"Fuck it." Morye recalled finding himself instantly distant. "I am out."

His first goal had been to find a way to return to his peaceful life as a useless Abjurer, lying low while the whole thing blew over. Surely, with all the drama happening in the Shielding Stations, the department wouldn't be too interested in a senior technician who'd gone AWOL.

At least that was what he'd naively hoped.

Instead, just as he had met one of his exes, coaxed her into providing him with temporary shelter, a Message spell bloomed by his head. Unlike a personal Message spell, the Glyph for this one was silver, indicating that it came from a government authority.

"Shit," Morye said. "Sorry, Margerie. I gotta take this."

The NoM woman kissed his shoulder, walking away without so much as a sliver of cloth. He marvelled at the gentle, soft curves of her body, admiring the good fortune that despite the years since their last tryst, she'd kept well, maturing like a well-seasoned mango.

"Morye Song." The voice that spoke was stern and commanding.

"Yeah?"

"This is Gunther Shultz, interim Master of the Sydney Tower. I am invoking section 5.7.8 of the Frontier Military General Article seven. I am conscripting you for mandatory duty while the city is under martial law."

"Why? I am just a no-good Abjurer. What can I do?" he protested.

"Katie tells me otherwise, Mr Song."

"I don't know who that is."

"Perhaps I'd be more convincing if I called you by your new title?"

Morye furrowed his brow. What title was that?

"The Pink Salt Saviour."

He choked on his spit. "That's fucking ridiculous!"

"Nonetheless, I have a quest for you, one you cannot possibly refuse. It serves neither of our purposes for the headlines to tell tales of your wondrous exploits."

"We'll see about that."

"From your colourful past, no less. From the old country to the new, so many women wondering where you'd gone."

"I am listening."

"Good, because you wouldn't want to turn down my offer regardless. It involves Gwen, and your refusal to participate will directly endanger her."

"Fuck me sideways." Morye had a sinking feeling.

"It's not so bad." Gunther's voice sounded like it was caught between amusement and self-control. "If you participate, I will keep your talents a secret for you. Otherwise, you can prepare to live the rest of your life in Oceania as a renowned public figure."

"No, no," Morye succumbed quickly. "If it's for Gwen, I'll do it."

"Good. You are to rendezvous with her at Surya's estate. I have a team ready to head out."

"Out to where?" Morye became suspicious. "Who else is at the estate?"

"Out to a Black Zone," Gunther said. "Your wife and son, as well as their stepfather, are all thankfully safe and sound—at the estate. They eagerly await your unexpected arrival."

Morye moaned silently. He was happy that Percy was safe and sound and that Gwen too was alright, but the mere mention of Helena made his chest sore.

"I wish you the best of luck," the Paladin intoned, sounding satisfied. ”Good hunting."

The Paladin silenced the Message conference.

Morye felt his world turn dark like a Merman stuck in a crab cage. He hadn't thought about it before, but he knew it now—there were indeed fates worse than death.

Chapter forty-eight

Epilogue - No Birds Sing

If someone had asked Elvia a year before if she'd be rubbing shoulders with Magisters and witnessing city-levelling combat that existed on a mythical level, she'd ask what quasi-magical medication they were taking.

Elvia was as kind as she looked—a daddy's girl. Among the friendship trio, she was Gwen's respite, Yue's sometimes-pillow, and the angelic healer of Blackwattle's clinic. Timid and bashful, she was not built to withstand the immense tension that came with two Magisters squaring off, much less the traumatic anxiety of conspiracy where hundreds of thousands of human lives hung in the balance.

"Debora, God help me if you don't let Gwen go right this minute. If you harm her, my life's sole purpose will revolve around ensuring that you suffer."

Yue's acerbic threats made Elvia's scalp crawl.

"You fucking bitch. I am going to immolate everyone you love. Your brothers, your sisters, your parents. You will rue the day you turned traitor."

Elvia felt sick. Yue's blasphemous threat sent shivers down her spine precisely because she knew that her friend meant every word. As Alesia's Apprentice, Yue could arguably cite to the Tower that Debora's family was complicit to the conspiracy that resulted in the death of tens of thousands. But what if they were not? She would never know the sweet innocence of restful sleep ever again.

The standoff had lingered for a moment more until Alesia uttered a cry of dismay. Surprising them both, Yue's Master Blinked past them into the Grot.

"You're too late," Debora announced flatly as a swarm of firefly embers filled the air.

Beside the traitorous Transmuter, Gwen writhed in agony, caught in the constrictive embrace of the Sand Prison. Elvia's fists clenched and unclenched. It was just like that time during the Field Trip, only Gwen wasn't screaming for her to run away.

When Debora next spoke, her words were emotionless and full of prophecy. "There is nothing you can do. There is nothing any of you can do. Not anymore."

"Shut your hole—" Yue began, letting loose a torrent of abuse.

Elvia wanted to cry but fought down the tears. But it wasn't her gut that began to spin and churn.

Without warning, the Grot began to distort, though really, there was no word to describe the strangeness of their unbidden translocation. It was the folding of two spaces across a vast expanse, folded like two ends of an origami crane, and transformed back into a plain sheet of paper.

In the blink of an eye, the space within the Tower ceased to be.

Where Yue had been shouting death threats at Debora only a split second ago, now she was hurling abuse at a lonesome sapling, a verdurous seedling with a dozen leaves that had sprouted from the foliage smothered floor of a tropical rainforest.

Much like a cargo truck without compression breaks, Yue went on for a few more seconds before her embroiled mind could process their forced translocation. "… shove a wand up…" Yue stopped because the sapling had uprooted itself and fled behind the wall-like roots of a giant banyan tree.

"What the fuck?" Yue said.

"Where is this?" Whetu regarded their surroundings with awe. "This reminds me of northern New Zulland, near Rotorua."

"Fuck that, where's Gwen? Where's that bitch, Debora?"

"I don't think this is Sydney," Elvia said, feeling the humidity almost instantly drench her pale, heat-sensitive skin, far more acclimatised to the dry, cold air of Middle Europe.

The movement of a sapling-like being peeking out from the trees caught her wandering, agitated eyes. It gawked at the party, its leaves quivering with terror.

"Hello? Who are you?" Elvia lowered her body until she was on both knees, her fair hair cascading over her shoulder. "We don't mean to harm you. You may come out if you like."

Perhaps sensing Elvia's goodwill or possibly recognising the tone of her speech, the sapling emerged a little more from its place of shelter.

Now that they had a closer look at the thing, it was no longer in the shape of a sapling. The plant was a petite, female babe with olive skin, bright luminous eyes of emerald green, and hair full of tressy vines. The young Spirit was also in the nude, though a lack of anatomical features hinted at its inhuman nature. Overall, it was an adorable, tiny thing the size of a puppy or a kitten.

Elvia swallowed while Yue and Whetu sucked in deep breaths. Where the hell had they teleported? Was this a part of the Grot? Perhaps a defensive system? Where was Alesia?

Most importantly, the sight of the child-like forest Spirit before them assailed Elvia’s capacity for rational thought. First of all, why was there a sprite there? Magical beings like this only existed in zones uninhabited by humanity.

"Come on, little one. Come out. Can you speak?" Elvia cooed as she coaxed the delightful little thing to come closer, anxious to ask it for directions so that they could escape and find Gwen.

Yue and Whetu took a step back. "Elvia," Yue spoke carefully. "Don't do it."

"Maybe it can talk," Elvia assured her friend. "Maybe it can tell us where we are."

Elvia gestured so that Yue suppressed her instinct to drop a Fireball. She was confident that her gut feeling was right.

As Elvia watched, the sapling Spirit emerged entirely from its sheltered spot between the roots and was now coming towards them. It reached out with long, tendril-like fingers that were far too distended for an anatomically accurate human body and touched Elvia's cheeks. "Ki!" the creature uttered. "Kiki!"

To Elvia's surprise, it came forward and began to rub itself against her hands. Instantly, the healer relaxed, feeling no hostility from it. Mayhap the Sprite was attracted to the positive mana that emanated from her body?

Elvia brushed a hand over the sapling's hair. "So soft," she said, turning to her friends. "I feel it's harmless. I don't think it can talk—ouch!"

A needle-sharp pain pricked her hand, causing her to wince and grimace. With a jerking motion, she pulled her hand from the thing's head. It had stabbed her with a tendril, prickling the pale skin of her finger, which began to bleed profusely.

"I knew it!" Yue fired up an aura of fiery mana. She was confident that she could incinerate the thing with a pair of Scorching Rays while avoiding the risk of friendly fire on Elvia.

"No!" Elvia leaned over the creature protectively. "It was an accident!"

The sapling creature cowered beneath Yue's flaming aura. Trembling, it reached out with a tendril and caressed Elvia's hand where its thorn had pierced her skin. There was a brief emerald glow. To Elvia’s surprise, her swollen wound mended in front of their eyes.

"That's rather handy," Yue retracted her spell but still regarded the thing with suspicion. The child-like Spirit made a face at her and hid behind Elvia.

Whetu furrowed his brows. "Elvia…"

"I know," Elvia answered. It went without saying that because a Magical Being was benign at one point didn’t mean it would remain so in the future.

"Kiki-ki!" the thing wailed. It clambered onto Elvia and buried itself in her flaxen hair.

"We're not keeping that thing," Yue warned, mindful of Alesia's claim that the only good Magical Being was a smouldering Mana Core after a nice Fireball.

"Just for a little bit?" Elvia begged. "Maybe it'll be helpful."

Both Elvia and the Sprite begged their companions with liquid eyes.

"Erh." Yue turned away, unable to withstand the look of innocence that radiated from two pairs of guileless eyes. Whetu as well seemed defeated by their adorability.

The trio inspected their surroundings.

They were in verdant jungle. The heat was beyond humid and oppressive, weighing upon the group like wads of cotton. Behind them was a gigantic Banyan tree, stretching into the heavens, smothering all light, leaving the floor with naught but dappled light peering through its dense foliage. Between the root system as tall as a grown man was an open space that hinted at a Dryad's sanctum.

"I reckon that's the Grot," Whetu pointed out helpfully. He ventured close to the threshold and placed his hand between the open space. What he felt was a resistance, like pressing his hand against congealed gelatine. "Et’s closed."

"Let me try." Yue attempted to enter the Grot. She made it no more than a few feet before the wall of force drove her backwards. Undeterred, she clicked her fingers, and a pair of Dancing Lights manifested. In the shimmering reflection, she could see the outline of her body hazily refracted through the firelight.

Elvia settled the little wood sprite onto her shoulder. She produced her Message device and tried a few Glyphs. The droning tone and the glowing red symbol informed her that its inbuilt Divining formulas were woefully out of range.

"Shit!" Yue's patience was wearing thin. "We have to get back to Gwen. I can't believe Debora betrayed us for Walken! That bitch!"

"Yue…"

"I swear I'll make good on my promise. When we get back, I am going to boil that traitor alive in a vat of low-smoking oil, I… "

"Yew!"

Yue looked up at her companions, who were staring wild-eyed behind her.

A fragrance of wildflowers drifted through the air, sweet and alluring, thick and sticky, hanging in the atmosphere like a physical presence. The redolence was accompanied by the sound of rustling leaves and the susurrus of tall branches.

Yue turned.

The trio beheld a vision, one that beheld them in turn. An avatar of Aphrodite with a long head of autumn leaves beginning in flaming red and ending in burnish bronze shimmered under the dappled light of the afternoon sun. From its head of autumn colours, a breathtakingly beautiful face protruded, with gemstone eyes, a celestial nose and pouting lips with the hue of ripe goji. Fluid lines of woodgrain formed its exotic wooden complexion, passing over sensuous, voluptuous curves.

"Wow." Elvia held her breath, mesmerised by the beauty of the ravishing Dryad that strode into the clearing on long slender legs taller than her head.

Yue turned to Whetu, who looked smitten. "Why do you suppose Dryads have knockers?" she said to the two of them critically. "They ain't mammalian creatures, so ain't it kind of like tits on a bull? I mean, why nips?"

Elvia stared at the alluring Dryad. Yue was right. Especially with its skinny waist, the exaggerated breasts of the woodland being were enormous. They were like melons poignantly poised upon her chest.

"You've ruined the glamour, Yue." Whetu moaned. "I can't un-see it."

"Well tits or no tits, we gotta ask it for directions. Gwen's waiting for us to rescue her," Yue snapped. "Put your eyeballs back in their sockets, Whetu."

A rustling giggle answered their banter.

"Little ones," hailed the giantess in green and brown. "Where might you hail from?"

Though the group knew that humanoid Magical Beings could speak, the more human-shaped, the more likely, they were still impressed that a creature of such age and origin spoke the common tongue.

"Hello," Elvia began politely. "We're from Sydney. Do you happen to—"

"Tree lady, where are we?" Yue interjected. "What are you, and how do we get back?"

Whetu placed a careful hand on Yue's shoulder. "Patience, Yew. We are in her domain."

Yue shook herself off Whetu's grasp with annoyance.

"Where might this be?" The Dryad moved her overlarge body with a grace that was pleasing to the eye. "Why, we are in my grove, where my sisters and I have lived since time immemorial."

"We are sorry to intrude." Elvia curtsied, amazed that the creature spoke English. "Might I ask how we can return to our home?"

"Of course, allow me to show you the way." The Dryad turned, flicking her hair and sending streams of beading dew flowing through it, dripping down the arc of her wasp's waist onto her magnificent buttocks.

Whetu's breath grew laborious.

"That's an arse you could build a house on," Yue muttered offhandedly, displeased by her male companion.

Elvia followed without a word, mindful of the little Sprite hidden in her voluminous hair.

"Ki-ki! Ki!" it muttered beside her with a distinct sense of alarm.

"I can't understand what you're saying," Elvia gave her minute companion a nudge. "What's the matter?"

The sprig sprite pulled at her ear, but a glance from the giant Dryad sent it back into hiding.

The group followed the Dryad for a quarter of an hour. The woods seemed to part before them before closing behind them, giving the three a feeling of foreboding anxiety as their hostess led the way.

"Hey! Double-D, are you sure this is the way out?” Yue hollered.

Whetu snorted. Even Elvia couldn't help herself and had to pinch her thighs to keep a straight face. With tears in her eyes, she turned to Yue to scold her for her abrasiveness.

The giantess turned to the group with a winsome smile that no longer reached its eyes. "Yes, it's just this way."

When the group reached a clearing, it was evident that not only were they not "out" of the woods, they were, in fact, more buried within it. There were tables and chairs set out for human-sized guests in the clearing, shaded by the dappled bower of the enormous Bayan tree above it. The three Junior Mages had done their bestiary classes. They regretfully acknowledged that despite their naive optimism, the coy giantess had broken faith and had brought them to be drugged and glamoured.

"It must be tiring to walk through the woods," the Dryad spoke with a voice dripping with honey. "Mayhap take a short sojourn here and enjoy a cup of sweet mead or a slice of manna bread."

True to her word, cups sprouted from the tables, while a bloom of white flowers seated upon the wood began to fruit, forming a puffy white mushroom that resembled unbaked bread dough.

"I am truly sorry," Elvia began. "But we really must be going. You see, an enemy has captured a friend of ours and we must depart to save her."

The Dryad turned to face them with her gemstone eyes, her pupil-less irises giving her an alluring, alien presence. She was a nude wonder poised to please, and from her mouth issued the soft breeze of spring. The sweet fragrance supernaturally filled the air as the clearing blossomed at once with thousands of flowers.

"Won't you stay? Just for a little while longer?" Her voice filled their ears, rich with pleasing promises.

Whetu seemed instantly smitten, his expression becoming soft and languishing. An idiotic grin of unconditional trust appeared on his face as he nodded slowly. Elvia meanwhile, heard a small "Ki Ki Ki" beside her and a few seconds later, her groggy mind regaining its clarity.

Yue, however, was entirely unaffected, with the flower petals bursting into fireflies as they neared her body. "Hey, wood whore!" Yue punched Whetu in the chest, doubling him over. "Last chance."

The Dryad frowned, lovely even in anger. From the other side of the clearing appeared several more of her kind, each beautiful in their way, with mischievous smiles and cruel faces full of anticipation.

"Well, have it your way." Yue opened a channel to the Plane of Elemental Fire. "Firestorm!"

Swirling motes of elemental Fire descended upon the clearing. The lesser Dryads shrieked and fled the scene. The giantess' face transformed into a maleficient scowl. "YOU DARE?" she screeched, her voice the shrill lament of wind through hollowed logs.

But her protest was fruitless. In the next moment, a firestorm engulfed the clearing. Great gobs of uncontrolled plasma fell indiscriminately into the clearing and the surrounding area. Yue gritted her teeth and kept up the channel, transforming the woodland domain into a sea of crackling flames.

"Bless! Aid!" Elvia slapped Whetu across the back of his skull, pulling him from his stupor.

"Wii have to git back to Sufina's Grot!" Whetu exclaimed. "This place is going to be crawling with nimfes."

"You lead, I'll clear ahead," Yue shouted back, satisfied that the clearing would be burning for a few hours yet. The abundance of elemental fire in the area would ensure any wood and debris were as good as bone-dry tinder.

Yue was glad she had shaken Whetu from the Charm, for the Dryads' retribution was quick and swift. Lashing tentacles of barbed tendrils shot from the shadows of trees towering above them, trying to snag them by the neck like nooses or to scourge them with their poisoned spikes.

Whetu, now cleared of the tree-woman's glamour, formed pounamu shields left and right, above and behind, shielding the two girls as they slid and stumbled through the densely wooded trail.

"Is this the right direction?" Yue shouted. She and Elvia had barely passed outdoor survival and so couldn't even begin to tell the direction.

"Oi think so." Whetu forced apart a thorny bush with a shield. "Dis way!"

If any of them could fly, that would have simplified their journey, but the earthbound party of three had to push through the verdant, dense jungle by sense alone. Along the way, their escape was itself unimpeded, though even as their mana waned, they realised they were nowhere near Sufina's tree.

"Shit, what do we do?" Yue warded off another Dryad who came into view with a Scorching Ray.

"I think it's the woods itself. We're in a maze." Whetu opened an umbrella shield. The tendril penetrated the first few layers of his pounamu. Elvia huffed. She could see that the attacks were getting more vicious.

"Evee?"

Elvia listened to the little Sprite that rode on her shoulders. "Kiki!" it suggested, apparently aware of some solution to their dilemma. In the chaos, though, Elvia had no idea what it was saying.

"I don't understand," she said. "Point us where to go?"

The Sprite's inarticulate gesticulation was interrupted by a triumphant shout from Whetu. "I see a clearing! There's the tree!"

"Ki! Ki!" the Sprite pleaded desperately, but its companion ignored its incomprehensible, irksome actions.

The three Junior Mages burst into the clearing with Yue's purging flame pruning the way. A giant Banyan tree again towered over them, underneath which was a portal into the underground.

"Is that it?" Yue asked.

Behind them the entire forest seemed to be moving, crushing towards them like a mudslide consisting of roving greenery. The trio's options were clear—they could forgo the clearing and keep on moving or they could take a gamble.

"No time!" Whetu felt a dozen tendrils lashing the shield he had left behind them, crunching through the pounamu. "Which way?"

"To the Grot!" Yue commanded. "Maybe we can hold it hostage. The bestiary said that Dryads perish with their Grot. Elvia?"

"Kiki!" The Sprite pulled her hair backwards, causing Elvia to wince.

"Dump that thing! Lord knows whose side it's on," Yue snapped and pulled Elvia forwards. Together, they stumbled towards the shaded nook of the tree, into the space between the roots.

"It's open," Whetu was the first to touch the base.

Behind them, the elder Dryad burst into the clearing like a wooden goddess that had seen better times. Her lovely hair of flowering tresses was now a smouldering mess of cinders, her flawless woodgrain skin charred in several places. Her gemstone eyes were aglow with angry, autumn colours. Someone might have mistaken her for an avatar of forest fires. A dozen others appeared, likewise singed by Yue's flaming outburst, striding dramatically into the clearing, their eyes full of murder.

"Fuck it!" Yue pulled Elvia by the hand and they pushed into the Grot.

Outside, there came the sound of an innocent trill full of sadistic mirth, echoed by the leading laughter's companions until the entire clearing filled with thrilling laughter.

The air inside was damp and chilly.

The tunnel into the Grot itself was moss-covered and wet to the touch, leading downwards into the darkness, lit by phosphorescent fungi that shed just enough light to tease the eye. They had made a hundred metres or so when Whetu became overcome by a sense of déjà vu.

"Oi think we're going in circles, look here." He pointed to a spot in the wall where he'd left a piece of pounamu when they'd last made a loop. "Circles out there, circles in here. Et’s not looking good. The Dryads are warping the woods."

"Well, I'll just carve a route out then. Maybe it'll give the owner of this Grot indigestion." Yue grinned nastily as an orange flame blossomed in one hand.

The sudden burst of elemental fire in the tunnel seemed to awaken something, as the walls began to shudder. "See?" Yue tittered smugly.

Out of the moss-covered walls came a pale white hand. It grasped Yue by the mouth and waist, pulling her back with such force that she became winded. To Elvia's dismay, Yue was violently pressed upon the walls, half-dragged into the moss by the pale-skinned figure.

"Mmmmph!" She tried to struggle free, but the thing's arms were as strong as old roots. A pale face appeared by the tunnel's side, one of a venerable old warrior long since consumed, whose near-translucent skin looked as though it hadn't seen the sun for a century.

"Join us! You cannot escape. The mistress will have thee in her thrall!" The resonating voice crooned, its eyes turning to look at Whetu. "Thee as well will become her servant! None escapes here!"

"Mmmmph!" Yue burst into flames as she forcibly manifested her Flame Shield, causing a wracking surge of fiery mana to escape her body and sear her skin.

The pale-bodied man screamed and howled, retreating into the tunnel's walls.

"Motherfucker groped me." Yue coughed and spat as Elvia healed her blistering skin and eased the effect of the disorientating mana burn with a Lesser Restoration. She felt for her right breast, where she was sure that there would be a bruise come morning, restoration or no.

"Healing Word!" Elvia said.

"Flame Shield!" A semi-circle of fire manifested around Yue, encompassing Elvia and Whetu within its protective reaches. All around them, the walls of the tunnel were a mass of writhing moss, within which white arms, legs and white faces by the hundreds, appeared and disappeared.

Yue produced one of the mana potions that Alesia had left them at the convent and injected herself with the blue solution. "Yeah, that's the stuff," she moaned as her reserves shot to full. "Let's get out of here. I’d rather fight those bitches to the death than die here in a stinking hole. Let's see how long it'll take before whoever owns this Grot regurgitates us. Flame Sphere!" A giant sphere of fire manifested and began to roll down the tunnel, turning all within range into ash.

"Wall of Fire!" A blistering row of fire charred the tunnel walls.

"Fireball!"

"Firebolt!"

"Blastbolt!"

"Scorching Ray—"

Yue's escalation seemed to have done the trick, for it took them only a few minutes to wander out of the Grot and into the clearing.

As they exited the pocket-space of the Grot, angry woodland beings surrounded them. Unexpectedly, however, the trio was no longer being menaced. Instead, the Dryads were on their knees, supplicating themselves before an emerald goddess that stood amongst them like a tall poplar amongst lowly hedges. Even the elder Dryad was on her knees, steaming a little as her innards fumed with the fire still burning within her Grot.

The object of their adoration was a familiar shape with a familiar face. It was Gwen's face, superimposed upon an artistic wooden sculpture of surreal beauty. Its hair was a verdant vertical garden of tendrils, flowers and leaves that framed her face and cascaded until it reached the forest floor. Its eyes were a glimmering display of prismatic colours, staring intently at them with distinct displeasure.

"Sufina?" Yue said, swallowing a little as her flame shield spluttered. "Sufina, do you know where Gwen is? We need to get back to her."

"Sufina!" Beside Yue, Elvia breathed out a sigh of relief. The Healer’s companion Sprite hid instantly behind Elvia’s hair, cowering and whimpering.

"G' day," Whetu added.

The majestic Dryad's eyes regarded them coldly, seemingly devoid of all emotion. Behind her, the woods were lovely, dark and deep, a place of flora sans the fauna, a dark forest where no birds sing.

"You three," Sufina said softly. "Are in big trouble."

End of Volume 2

To be continued in Volume 3

Webnovel continues from Chapter 96

Chapter XLIX

Thank You

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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. Close Encounters
- 2. Full Pelt
- 3. Great Expectations
- 4. Premonitions
- 5. No Harm in Trying
- 6. Rich Girls and Poor Boys
- 7. A Curious Encounter
- 8. Fix -- Show and Tell
- 9. When Shall We Three
- 10. One Thousand and One Nights
- 11. Valkyries
- 12. Something's Fishy
- 13. First World Problems
- 14. Singing the Snake
- 15. Into the Wild
- 16. A Favourfor a Favour
- 17. Shortcomings
- 18. The MiglooGhost
- 19. Thunderstruck
- 20. Until Dawn
- 21. House of the Rising Huang
- 22. ’Til the Fat Lady Sings
- 23. Sharing is Caring
- 24. So Long, and Sanks for the Fush
- 25. All Work and no Lunch
- 26. Days of our Lives
- 27. A Crooked Deal
- 28. Dark Waters
- 29. Anticipation
- 30. A Rose has its Thorns
- 31. The Higher the Expectation
- 32. The Harder They Fall
- 33. A Sight for Sore Eyes
- 34. When the Levee Breaks
- 35. An Unexpected Encounter
- 36. Chain Reaction
- 37. The Breaking Wave
- 38. The Devil’s Advocate
- 39. TrueLies
- 40. The Widening Gyre
- 41. The Lost Falcon
- 42. The Worst are Full of Passion
- 43. Reeling Shadows of Desert Birds
- 44. The Darkness Drops Again
- 45. SpiritusMundi
- 46. When Time is Short
- 47. The Salty Saviour
- 48. Epilogue - No Birds Sing
- Thank You
- Glossary
- Elements & Elemental Magic