Tag Archives: Toby

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The entire sophomore class appeared in Tellwyrn’s dimly-lit office with a series of small pops, over the course of about five seconds.

“Dammit!” Ruda shouted after getting her bearings. “Can you not at least ask first, woman? What if somebody had been changing?”

“Someone was,” Toby exclaimed, feeling nervously at his clothes. “I don’t know whether I’m less or more disturbed to find myself fully dressed, now.”

“Wow, that’s really impressive,” Fross chimed. “That’s a whole order of magnitude more complex than a standard teleportation.”

“At least twice that,” Professor Tellwyrn said calmly. She was seated behind her desk as usual, framed by the unshuttered windows granting a view of the clear night sky. Only the small fairy lamp above the desk was active, leaving the room mostly in semi-darkness. “Based on my observations of you precious little buggers, I am playing a hunch. Mr. Arquin has just brought something rather unsettling to my attention which, at first glance, seems it should concern only himself and Juniper, but I have the most peculiar feeling I’m about to find that the lot of you will either become involved, or already are.”

“Peculiar feeling?” Juniper said nervously, hugging her jackalope to her chest. Jack hung with his back legs dangling, and to judge by the way he kicked and squirmed, wasn’t enjoying it. Being continually prodded about the head and neck with his antlers didn’t seem to discomfort the dryad. “About something unsettling involving Gabe and me? What’d I do?”

“It appears,” said Tellwyrn, staring at her, “there is a new dryad sniffing around Last Rock.”

“What?” Juniper squawked. “Which?”

“She said her name was Aspen,” said Gabriel.

“Oh!” Juniper brightened considerably. “That’s probably okay, then, she’s really nice.”

“June, I don’t know how to break this to you gently,” he said with a wince, “but she tried to kill me.”

“I’m guessing you talked to her first,” Trissiny said dryly.

Gabe shot her a long look, then sighed. “Look, I know when I’ve provoked someone, and I didn’t. I was very diplomatic. She came here looking for a fight.”

“That doesn’t make any sense,” Juniper whispered. Jack finally kicked free of her, and she had to lunge after him as he bounded for the door. It was closed, fortunately.

“I actually met Aspen once,” said Fross. “She seemed nice to me, but it was a brief sort of conversation. Why’d she try to kill you?”

“More important,” said Teal, “how did you get out of that situation? You’re obviously not killed, and I think we’d have noticed if somebody nearby had harmed a dryad.”

“I can’t take credit,” he said ruefully, rubbing at his neck with one hand. “This was on the Vidian temple grounds. Soon as she got her hand on my throat, the valkyries chased her off.”

There was a moment’s silence.

“There are valkyries around here?” Trissiny exclaimed.

Wordlessly, Gabriel and Tellwyrn both pointed at an empty space in front of the Vernis Vault with the music player on top. Everyone immediately shuffled back from it.

“There are usually several around the last few months,” Gabriel said. “They sorta rotate in and out; they’ve all got other things to do but it seems like they hang around me in their free time. This is Vestrel; she’s the only actually assigned to help me. She says hello.”

“Hi, Vestrel!” Fross chirped enthusiastially.

“Gods, please tell me I’m not the only one who doesn’t see anybody,” said Ruda.

“Valkyries don’t actually occupy the mortal plane,” Tellwyrn explained. “They can’t even be seen here except on Vidian holy ground and in places where the dimensional barriers have thinned. They also cannot interact physically with anything that’s not…out of place. Undead, ghosts, Vanislaad demons, things like that.”

“So, could they be present, say, around a fresh hellgate?” Ruda asked in an interested tone. “Cos I’ve gotta say, couple of those woulda been really useful this spring. What with tall, dark and creepy clearly hanging around anyway.”

“And incidentally,” Tellwyrn added with asperity, “this fact should not be mentioned in front of Aspen, should any of you find yourselves having a conversation with her. We’ve found one way of scaring her into behaving; she doesn’t need to know its limitations.”

“Why would a dryad be afraid of valkyries, though?” Juniper asked, frowning and stroking Jack’s fur. She had him settled in a more comfortable position in her arms. “Dryads are, like, the ultimate apex predator. Nothing is dangerous to us.”

“You’ve never met a dragon,” Tellwyrn remarked. “We can explore that another time.”

“Also, what’s a valkyrie?”

“If I may, Juniper?” the Professor said acidly.

“Sorry,” she mumbled, flushing.

“Aspen’s stated reason for being here, according to Mr. Arquin, is to look for you. She seems to be under the impression that you’re dead.”

Gabriel sighed, looking over at the others. In nearly perfect unison, most of them stiffened, eyes widening. Shaeine merely tilted her head, raising an eyebrow.

“And there it is,” Tellwyrn said with grim satisfaction. “The oh-so-familiar expression of a bunch of kids realizing exactly how they’ve screwed up. It would almost be satisfying if it weren’t going to result in a whole bunch of unnecessary hassle for me. See, I knew the lot of you were involved with this. All right, spit it out. Why is there a dryad poking around my University believing in Juniper’s alleged demise?”

“Well…” Juniper trailed off, gulped, and bent to set Jack on the floor. He immediately hopped off into a corner away from the group. “I think it’s because of what happened in the Crawl.”

She paused, watching Tellwyrn warily; the Professor simply raised an eyebrow.

“There was this…sort of…room. A complex of halls, more like. It was full of illusions that made us face…um, fears.”

Tellwyrn nodded. “Yes, I read Professor Ezzaniel’s report. That is why I wasn’t more irate at you getting rid of my incubus; I obviously can’t have him sending my students on detours that dramatic. Go on.”

“Well, I…” Juniper swallowed again, glancing at the others. Teal stepped over to squeeze her shoulder encouragingly. “I sort of had to…come to grips with…some stuff. I mean… Well…”

“I don’t need to interrogate you about your emerging conscience unless it’s immediately relevant to the issue,” Tellwyrn said. “You’ve been making positive progress in that regard, Juniper. Kindly skip to the non-stuttering part that explains this fresh brouhaha.”

Juniper sighed and nodded. “I was having trouble dealing with it, so… Shaeine helped me by invoking Themynra’s judgment, which was… Well, Themynra seemed not to condemn me. So I asked Trissiny to do the same thing. With Avei’s.”

Tellwyrn’s eyebrows slowly narrowed; her eyes thinned to slits behind her spectacles. “You didn’t.”

“She insisted,” said Trissiny, standing stiffly at attention.

“You do realize,” Tellwyrn said in a dangerously quiet tone, “that given the average dryad’s habits, that could very easily have resulted in your classmate’s death?”

“I knew the risks,” Juniper said hastily. “I asked her to, Professor. She didn’t want to.”

“Why is it,” Tellwyrn said, ignoring her, “that every time you fail to think something through, Avelea, you nearly end up getting somebody murdered?”

Trissiny flushed and lowered her eyes, offering no comment.

“All right, well,” Tellwyrn said after a moment. “Clearly Juniper’s not dead. Thanks for small blessings. But somehow your fellow dryads now think you are?”

“She…” Juniper paused, sighed, and squared her shoulders. “Avei cut me off from Naiya.”

“Bullshit. That would simply have killed you.”

“That’s what Elder Shiraki said,” she replied. “It wasn’t a complete severing, more of a block. It means…I don’t have Naiya’s protection anymore. Avei thought it would be an appropriate punishment to have me, you know, on my own in the world. I…don’t disagree.” She trailed off, looking at the floor. Toby stepped over to her other side, placing an arm around her shoulders.

Tellwyrn stared at them all in silence for a long moment, then removed her spectacles and carefully folded the earpieces, then set them on the desk. She leaned back, her chair squeaking as it partially reclined, and stared at the ceiling. “No matter how many times I tell you little bastards to think before you act, you continually plunge headfirst into the dumbest damn course of action you can come up with. Now, why is that? And more to the point, how long can this go on before you bring this whole bloody place down around our ears?”

“Asking what you’re talking about is just gonna get me called stupid again, isn’t it,” Ruda said sardonically.

Tellwyrn rubbed at her face with one hand. “During our impromptu class at the inn in Lor’naris, I spoke to you about the nature of the gods. The conditional nature of their agency, and how it is sometimes possible to subvert or manipulate them. Please tell me you remember that?”

“We do,” Shaeine said after a moment when nobody else spoke.

The Professor sighed. “Well, Miss Avelea, that’s what you just did to your goddess.”

“What?!” Trissiny exclaimed.

“The goddess of justice, invoked physically by her chosen Hand, and asked to render judgment on a complex moral case with far-reaching implications?” Tellwyrn shook her head. “She pretty much wasn’t able to refuse. Such judgments are a large part of what she is. And so, you basically coerced Avei the deity into doing something that Avei the mortal strategist of eight thousand years ago would’ve had the sense to not damn well do!”

“Hang on,” Gabriel protested. “I get how this leads to Aspen thinking Juniper’s dead, but isn’t it a little harsh to get on Avei’s case about it? Justice as an absolute concept has to be above the overreactions of random dryads.” Trissiny shot him a look that started out surprised and became grateful.

“I do not give a bowl of chilled rat’s ass consomme about Aspen, and neither does nor should Avei,” Tellwyrn snapped. “Juniper wasn’t cut off from Aspen, except perhaps incidentally. The issue here is Naiya. Naiya, who now thinks Juniper is dead, and either told Aspen about it or quite possibly sent her here to investigate. Please, please tell me I don’t have to spell this out any further? Can you kids not see the potential catastrophe unfolding here?”

“Um?” Juniper raised a hand. “Pardon me for interrupting your tirade, but people keep pointing out to me how Naiya is, uh…not terribly attentive. It’s not something I enjoy hearing but I don’t really have an argument against it, y’know?”

“Juniper,” Tellwyrn said in exasperation, “you know you’re an exceptional circumstance. And the rest of you frankly have no excuse for not having figured this out! Honestly, how many dryads have been sent to attend a school in all of history? How many have been permitted by the Empire to attend said school and move around Tiraan territory? You cannot possibly have failed to put together that Juniper has a higher degree of Naiya’s attention than most of her kind—or so I would have assumed, and yet, here we damn well are!”

“I hardly think that’s fair,” Shaeine said coolly. “Several of us are in unprecedented circumstances, in one way or another, and our interactions have been geared—quite deliberately by you, I might add—toward teaching us to work together more than to intellectually ponder one another’s origins.”

“Also,” Ruda added, “some of us are from places like the sea and deep underground and can reasonably be forgiven for knowing fuck all about fucking dryads.”

“Well, this is an argument we can have at length another time,” Tellwyrn began.

“Why is it the argument gets moved to another time when you’re losing it?” Trissiny demanded.

“Because I’m in charge, Avelea, and on a related note, shut up. Right now we have to deal with this dryad situation which you’ve created. Regardless of how dim it was or wasn’t for you to have helped get Juniper into this state, there is no good reason why I’m only hearing about it now. What you have done is potentially set Naiya and Avei on a course for direct conflict. There are a million possible ways this can play out, and you’d better believe I will be bending my energies toward making sure one of the relatively harmless options is what occurs, but the worst-case scenario is nothing less than the bloody Elder Wars revisited in miniature! Kids… If you have to fuck around with deities, will you at least tell me about it before I find myself with demigoddesses assaulting my students?!”

“I think she’s got us there, guys,” Fross said.

“Whose side are you on?” Ruda muttered.

“…there are sides?”

“All right, enough,” Tellwyrn said, putting her spectacles back on. “I’ve set up wards around Last Rock so I’ll know if and when Aspen returns. It’s not clear to me why she would be especially bothered by valkyries, so I can’t guess how frightened she was or how quickly she’ll come back, but it can be assumed she didn’t hike all the way here from the Deep Wild to be turned back at the first opposition.”

“Wait, when did you set up wards?” Gabriel demanded. “You’ve been sitting right here ever since I came and told you about this.”

Tellwyrn gave him a sardonic look.

“Yeah,” he said with a sigh, “I realized why it was dumb as soon as I said it.”

“Story of your life. Anyway, I’m not leaving it at that; too much potential for bystanders to be harmed. There are people moving about the periphery of the town much of the time, and while the wannabe adventurers can be annoying, I doubt most of them deserve to have a run-in with a pissy dryad. If all goes well, I should have Aspen in hand by morning.”

“She went off into the Golden Sea,” Gabriel said. “Gonna be hard to track her there. And by ‘hard’ I mean ‘technically impossible.’”

“You let me worry about that, Arquin.”

“Please don’t hurt Aspen,” Juniper said worriedly. “She’s really super nice. She’s just upset about me dying, I’m sure she doesn’t mean any harm.”

“She did try to kill me,” Gabriel pointed out.

“Oh, everyone tries to kill you,” Ruda said, grinning. “You’ve gotta stop taking these little things so personally, boy.”

He sneered at her; Trissiny patted him on the shoulder.

“It isn’t even a question of who deserves what degree of manhandling,” Tellwyrn said impatiently. “Harming a dryad is off the table, for reasons you all know very well. Odds are good I’m already on Naiya’s shit list, thanks to you brats. That’s just one of the things I will need to learn from Aspen as soon as I have her secured. But no, she will not be harmed in any way. This won’t be the first time I’ve had to take a dryad out of commission without ticking off her mother. It’s not terribly hard if you’re careful.”

“That seems even more ominous, somehow,” Juniper mumbled.

“Anyway, I will come get you as soon as I’ve got her,” Tellwyrn continued. “Obviously, hearing from you will be the first step in settling her down. I’m hoping a lot of this can be made to just go away once she understands you are alive.”

“And once she understand that, I’ll be wanting an apology,” Gabriel added.

“It is unlikely to be so simple,” Shaine pointed out. “We will then have to explain why Juniper appears dead to Naiya’s senses, which, as Professor Tellwyrn has said, could become complicated.”

“I assure you I’ll be getting information from Aspen before I give her any,” Tellwyrn said grimly. “But you’re right, Miss Awarrion. I can’t detain a dryad indefinitely—not safely, anyway, especially when her mother may already be tetchy about this. We’ll have to do something with her. And figuring out exactly what will have to wait until I know more about the situation.”

“So…what else do you need from us, then?” Trissiny asked.

“For now? That should be it. You can all go back to bed, or studying, or more likely wasting time. Whatever you were doing. Juniper, this is important enough that you may be excused from class to speak with Aspen when she’s available. Otherwise, you just keep the rest of your classmates informed, and I will notify you all if I need you for anything. Oh, and Mr. Arquin, you have handled all this rather well. Not that your role was particularly complex or challenging, but it’s pleasing to see you not buggering up a simple task.”

“Stop, I’m gonna blush,” he said flatly.

“All right, everybody be off,” said Tellwyrn, then paused, scowling at the far corner. “…except Juniper, who will be reporting to Stew for cleaning supplies and then back here to remove the essence of rabbit shit from my carpet.”


Self-doubt was a new sensation for Aspen, and she was not enjoying it.

It had been a long day of walking, followed by a stressed, sleepless night. Now, the sun had not yet arrived, but the sky was lightening and taking on the first reddish tinges in the east that signaled the rise of a new day. Aspen didn’t stop in her pacing to appreciate it, much as she hadn’t stopped to rest all night. She didn’t actually feel at all tired; her nerves were still too twinged by the encounter at the human temple.

Really, that was her own fault. She should’ve known better than to confront a human on holy ground. The magic of their gods wasn’t healthy for fairy kind. Still… A priest she could have handled. Those things, though. Nothing could have prepared her for those.

Well, she was gaining some insights into what had happened to Juniper. Not that she intended to stop until she’d found the Arachne and squeezed some answers out of her, but this was progress. If there were things like that around the human town where poor Juniper had been living, no wonder she’d come to grief.

Poor, silly little Juniper. It made Aspen furious even to think of. What must her brief time here have been like, if that was the kind of company she was forced to keep?

She turned and resumed her pacing. After several hours spent wandering aimlessly through the Sea, she’d settled down to a fairly limited spot and had been pacing like a restless lion. By this point she’d worn a track of mashed tallgrass and was simply stalking back and forth on that line.

How was she supposed to get past those things? The sheer horror of them made her shudder even in recollection. Nothing like that had ever existed in the Deep Wild. Surely they weren’t of human origin, for all that she’d found them in that human temple. The truly terrible thing had been the way she could feel them through attuning. Almost exactly like she could feel her sisters, except… Wrong. Backwards. Inverted.

Anti-dryads, that’s what they were, which made no sense. How could something like that even exist? And what were they doing with humans? If this was what humans were up to, the Arachne had been right. Somebody needed to start domesticating them. It seemed Aspen’s warnings had been both wrong and horribly right: Juniper’s mission had been very important, and she had surely come to grief from it.

Poor Juniper…

But what to do?

She reached the other end of her track and was about to turn around again when a face appeared suddenly in the tallgrass right in front of her.

Aspen yelped and hopped backward in surprise. It was a humanoid face—a woman, pretty, with lustrous black hair and almond-shaped eyes. She also had triangular fox ears, which Aspen was fairly sure humans were not supposed to. More to the point, now that she saw the fox-woman, she could feel the torrent of Naiya’s power rushing through her, which she had not sensed a second before. She’d either been hiding or had simply not been there before—which wasn’t too farfetched, considering how the Golden Sea behaved.

“Um,” Aspen said. “Hello?”

The woman smiled broadly, revealing excessively long canines. Aspen smiled tentatively back.

Then a hand flashed out of the tallgrass and slapped her hard across the face.

The dryad could only stare in shock, lifting her own fingers to probe at the four stinging scratches laid across her cheek by the woman’s wicked claws. They were already closing up, of course, but that had hurt.

“Tag!” the fox-woman chirped. “You’re it!”

Then, laughing brightly, she whirled and dashed off into the tallgrass, a bushy, white-tipped tail bobbing behind her.

Aspen let out a roar of fury and charged after her.

She kept a short distance behind her quarry, the laughing woman always just out of reach, so close Aspen could almost grab her tail. She would sprint ahead, then pause, turning to grin and wave until the dryad was nearly on her again, then dart off in another direction.

Despite the frustration of it, and the obvious fact that she was being toyed with, the chase very quickly started to clear her head. Weltering in uncertainty wasn’t good for her; a good chase, though, this she understood. A hunt was exactly what she needed.

At least, for the first few minutes. Quickly, the frustration started building, and the gap between her and the fox-woman grew wider and stayed wider. Was she getting slower? Surely not. She could go forever.

Aspen lunged through a dense stand of tallgrass stalks into a relatively cleared space and paused, looking around. She had been sure the woman was just ahead, but now she couldn’t see anybody. The sky was red with dawn; there was ample light to make out her environs even without borrowing night vision from one of the animals. There was just nobody here.

Then someone off to her left cleared their throat.

Aspen whirled, beholding the woman, who was wearing an ornate silk robe, sitting calmly in an ornately-carved wooden chair which had no business being out here on the prairie, sipping tea from a dainty porcelain cup. A second ago that spot had been empty.

“Good morning,” she said pleasantly. “Allow myself to introduce me: I am Ekoi Kaisa, and you are exceedingly disappointing. Really, is this the best you can do? This almost isn’t even fun.”

Aspen snarled and lunged forward.

Kaisa laughed and dived underneath her own chair in a whirl of silk and bushy tail. Aspen skidded to a stop right next to her and savagely kicked the chair aside.

It burst apart into a spray of blood red maple leaves, which swirled on the air, drifting into the tallgrass all around. Once again, there was no one and nothing else there.

“Stop doing that, you jackass!” Aspen raged, whirling and glaring around.

“Really, there is no need to be rude,” Kaisa said reprovingly from the other end of the clearing. “Just because you’re slow and clumsy doesn’t mean you need to be boorish.”

“I’m gonna chew your ears off!” Aspen yelled, charging at her. The giggling kitsune darted away into the tallgrass.

This time, she led the dryad on a straight dash, eschewing her zig-zagging pattern of before. Aspen growled as her legs pumped at their maximum speed, and even so, the fox-woman was pulling ahead slightly. The dryad, tasting bitter outrage in the back of her throat, tried to pour more energy into her run, but she simply hadn’t been designed for speed. She staggered to a halt, half-doubled over, feeling the ache in her joints.

“And by the way,” said her quarry from just ahead. Aspen lifted her eyes, glaring at the kitsune, who had folded her arms and was staring severely down at her. “What were you thinking, setting foot in a town as naked as a piglet? The disgrace.”

This was ridiculous. The woman was obviously a fairy. Fairies were supposed to respect dryads!

“Do you have any idea who I am?” Aspen demanded, straightening up.

“Why, yes!” Kaisa said with another fang-baring grin. “Your name is Aspen. You are belligerent, pushy, ill-mannered, slatternly and slow.”

Aspen roared in wordless fury and lunged at her again. Kaisa dashed away, cackling in delight.

The kitsune ducked to the side, hopping over a stand of tallgrass that made an impenetrable clump near the ground, passing through its less dense upper fronds with ease. Aspen tried to follow, and the grass stalks springing back from Kaisa’s passing smacked her in the face with the force of a punch. She landed hard on her rump, blinking stars out of her vision.

The vulpine face appeared in the tallgrass, grinning down at her. “I think we can add ‘dense’ to your resume. In both senses of the word.”

Scrambling to her feet, Aspen grabbed a handful of the thickest part of the tallgrass stand and ripped it bodily out of the ground, hurling the whole thing aside.

Kaisa blew her a kiss and darted off again, the dryad right on her heels.

Abruptly they burst out of the tallgrass entirely into a vast cleared space. She skidded to a halt, realizing belatedly that she was back in the environs of Last Rock. The buildings of the town were sprawled dead ahead; there was the huge shape of the mountain, blotting out the sky, and off to one side stood that odd flat temple where she’d run into the things.

In front of her, the fox woman had halted as well, turned to face her, and bowed politely. Straightening up, she waved. “Well, thank you for playing with me! Good-bye.”

“You’re not going anywhere!” Aspen snarled.

“That is correct,” Kaisa said equably.

Then, with a sharp little pop, the world disappeared.

Aspen was suddenly in a room. Square, not large, made of reddish bricks with heavy granite blocks reinforcing the corners and its sole doorframe. There were no windows; the illumination came from those artificial magic lights humans had started using recently. More slabs of granite made up the floor and ceiling. Additional panels of the smooth gray stone were set into the walls at intervals, engraved with glowing blue sigils.

She didn’t need that, or the prickly sensation on her skin of arcane magic at work, to know this was some kind of wizardry. Aspen had materialized three feet off the floor, and wasn’t falling. She kicked, reached for the floor and ceiling, and only succeeded in making herself spin impotently about in midair. Once she stopped flailing, the spell holding her up gradually returned her to an upright position. That was a small courtesy, at least.

When she got her hands on that stupid fox, she was gonna kill her in an unnecessarily messy fashion. For the first time, Aspen was starting to empathize with Larch.

Another little pop sounded, and she found herself face-to-face with the Arachne, who studied her grimly over the rims of her spectacles.

“Hello, Aspen.”

“…aw, crud,” she sighed.

“Well put,” the elf said dryly. “And thank you, Kaisa. That was very neatly done.”

The kitsune leaned out from behind the Arachne, grinning up at Aspen. “I hope you find something more interesting for me next time, Arachne. She’s not clever enough or powerful enough to have been any proper fun. Really, how disappointing. Dryads are such a let-down.”

“Perhaps I should introduce you to Jacaranda sometime,” Arachne said, raising an eyebrow, then turned her attention back to Aspen. “For now, though, you and I are going to have a chat, Aspen. Let’s begin with the matter of you laying your hands on one of my students.”

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8 – 5

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“I can’t believe she scratched me,” Gabe said, for far from the first time. He was rubbing at his throat with one hand, despite the fact that he had healed the tiny pinpricks as soon as they had been inflicted in a rather excessive display of divine light. “How is everyone always scratching or stabbing or breaking me? Why do I even bother being an invulnerable half-demon if everybody gets a free shot?!”

“I’m sure it has nothing to do with the fact that you continually seek out and provoke the only people wherever you are who can actually do these things to you,” Toby said mildly.

“You make it sound like I have a death wish,” Gabriel grumbled. “I’m unlucky and dense, not suicidal.”

“I honestly can’t decide which would put you in more danger,” said Trissiny.

“And for the record! I did nothing to antagonize Ruda, she’s just a bi—a jerk,” he finished, glancing guiltily at Trissiny.

“I give you credit for the effort,” she said dryly.

Gabriel cleared his throat. “Sorry. Habits. But seriously, how Ekoi managed to scratch me is a pertinent question.”

“She’s a kitsune,” Fross explained, fluttering over to hover between them. “A potentially very powerful kind of fairy from Sifan. It’s actually really rare to see one outside their home country; they don’t like to travel. But then I guess it’s no surprise that Professor Tellwyrn has friends everywhere.”

“Maybe that means Professor Yornhaldt will come back soon,” Trissiny murmured.

“Be that as it may,” November chimed in, bodily inserting herself into the conversation, “whatever Gabriel did doesn’t justify a professor assaulting a student!”

“I actually think Professor Tellwyrn will agree with you on that,” said Shaeine from the sidelines. “Regardless of the very slight nature of the injury, she has strict rules about such things. If this has not been brought to her attention, I suggest we do so. If Professor Ekoi is as potent a force as Fross implies, it is doubtless best if she is prevented from making a habit of corporal punishment.”

“That’ll be an interesting conversation,” Toby said fatalistically. “Tellwyrn doesn’t have a high opinion of tattletales, even when they’re in the right.”

“Tellwyrn’s opinions are irrational and arbitrary,” Trissiny snorted. “The rules are the rules; she made them. November and Shaeine are right: Ekoi cannot get away with this.”

The handful of other students present simply stood at the periphery of the room, watching November and the sophomores in silence, several with frowns or raised eyebrows in response to tales of the new magical sciences teacher sinking her claws into Gabriel.

They were meeting in Martial Spell Lab 3, an octagonal room attached to the gymnasium, with a padded floor and enormous plate glass windows for three of its wall sections, which looked out over the prairie to the east. That glass, however, was no less fragile than the stone which comprised the rest of the room, and all of it would stand up to mag artillery fire. This was one of the chambers in which spell combat was taught and practiced; the defensive charms covering every inch of the room were the best that could be had. Allegedly they’d only needed to be replaced three times since the University’s founding, which was impressive considering the nature of the student body.

Further discussion was interrupted by the arrival of Professor Harklund through the door opening onto the main gymnasium. He was a man in his middle years, with the receding hairline and expanding waistline to prove it, but his jowly face carried a smile, as it habitually did. Despite his Stalweiss surname, he had the dark complexion of a Westerner. He dressed in traditional wizard robes of plain blue, a custom so outdated as to be an affectation, but despite that Harklund was one of the least-mocked professors at the University. A bronze pin displaying the moon and stars sigil of Salyrene was affixed as always to the breast of his robe.

“Hello, eager learners!” he said cheerfully, sweeping his gaze across the assembled students, pausing at each of them as he did a quick mental count. Class sizes at the University were small enough that most teachers didn’t bother reading names off a list; they knew who to expect and could tell at a glance if someone was absent. Professor Harklund, this time, had the opposite problem. “Ah, Ms. Fross, you are not enrolled in this class. I’m afraid you don’t meet the prerequisites, my dear.”

“Yes, I know!” Fross said brightly. “I happen to have a free period now this semester and I like to study my own projects, so I wondered if you wouldn’t mind if I audit this class? I’m very interested in different methods of using magic.”

“It’s not that I mind,” the Professor replied. “I never object to students wishing to learn. This is a strictly practical class, however; we will be wielding divine energies in significant concentration every day. That is potentially injurious to fairies.”

“Oh, but—”

“And,” he interrupted gently but firmly, “any methods you might use to mitigate that risk could disrupt the actual workings of the class. If you clear it with Professor Tellwyrn and Miss Sunrunner, and get their assurance that your being here is both safe and not disruptive, I certainly don’t mind if you watch. For this session, though, I’ll have to ask you to clear the premises.”

“Okay,” Fross said rather glumly. “I’ll see you later, guys.” She fluttered to the door, which opened to admit her, then drifted gently shut once she was gone.

“Well, then!” Professor Harklund went on more briskly. “Welcome to Introductory Lightworking! This is, as I’m sure you know, a new addition to the University’s offerings. I’m sure you know this because several of you were instrumental in getting it added to the curriculum! The only firm prerequisite for enrollment in this class is an established ability to wield divine magic. An awful lot of lightwielders do nothing but call on the energy and just…spray it out, unfocused. That includes a number of fairly high-ranking priests who really have no excuse not to know better.”

“Not all cults emphasize magic use,” Trissiny said pointedly. “Salyrene is the only goddess of healing and magic; other faiths have other priorities.”

“You are correct, Ms. Avelea,” Harklund said amiably. “To put it in more Avenist terms, then, would you send any soldier onto the battlefield as poorly-trained in the use of a sword as the average Avenist cleric is in the use of the light?” He gave her a moment to consider that, just long enough for her to develop a good scowl, before continuing. “As a counter-example, Themynra’s faith is about reasoning and judgment, which has nothing to do with magic…except when it has everything to do with magic. It certainly does not show good judgment to use tools without developing skill in their use. And indeed, I understand our Ms. Awarrion has a proven facility at magical shields, is it not so?”

“I believe I have attained a certain basic competency, if I may be forgiven for boasting,” Shaeine said diffidently.

“Shaeine is modesty personified,” Gabe said with a grin. “She’s crazy good with shields.”

Professor Harklund grinned. “We’ll take the time to explore the skills each of you already have, of course. I will be demonstrating new subjects as they arise, but as I told our pixie friend just now, this is a practical class. There should be time in each class period for everyone to receive individual instruction, and you will of course be expected to practice on your own. Now then, for the most part I plan to limit my talking to explanations of specific actions I expect you to take, but I will begin our semester with this one piece of theory.”

He paused, glancing around at them with a knowing half-smile, before continuing. “The light is caught up inevitably in religious concepts, coming to us as it does through the auspices of the gods. Interestingly, even among the dwarves, who can touch the light without any god’s help, an animistic faith devoted to it is common. All this leads us to a whole slew of misconceptions about just what divine magic is, and what it does. The truth is this: the guiding principle of the divine is order.”

“I thought divine light encouraged life,” said a boy unfamiliar to the sophomores, probably one of the new freshmen.

Harklund pointed at him. “That’s one of the more common misperceptions, Mr. Mosk. It arises from confusion between the two schools of magic used for healing. It is the fae which encourages life, and the distinction between it and the divine helps illuminate—pardon the pun—their respective strengths and weaknesses when it comes to the healing arts. For example, fae healing is excellent for major tissue damage, and even can reset broken bones if the proper spells are used. However, it has a tendency to accidentally encourage conditions that are caused by an overgrowth of life where one is not wanted. Infections, viruses, cancer. Divine healing, on the other hand, attempts to restore the body to its own base state, which also serves to purge it of alien incursions. However, a simple surge of divine energy hasn’t a physical component, and thus does not repair physical disruptions in the body of a certain size or severity. For instance, if you heal someone with a bone broken and left in the wrong position, you can cripple them for life. Heal someone with a blade embedded in their organs, and you likely condemn them to an excruciating death.”

November gulped audibly. Professor Harklund nodded, his expression solemn.

“In both schools of healing there are, of course, ways around these handicaps, which is what distinguishes a true healer from someone flinging around holy light or fairy dust. Healing is not the focus of this class, though we will of course cover it in some detail later in the semester. For now, however, we’ll begin with a relatively simple form of lightworking: the manifestation of solid objects.”

He held out a hand, a golden glow springing up around him, and suddenly a long, narrow cylinder appeared in his palm, apparently made of pure light. Harklund casually twirled the radiant golden quarterstaff as he continued speaking. “Some deities, notably Avei, grant shielding as an inherent gift to their clerics. If you do not come from a deific tradition which has this ability, however, you can make a shield simply by making something solid. You can, in fact, make just about anything—with certain limitations on size and complexity. There are differences and outliers, but the rule of thumb is you can’t create any object more massive than your own body. Only rigid things can be made, nothing flexible or malleable. A light-crafted object also cannot be changed once it exists; if you want something else, you must dismiss your creation and start over. There are further limitations and provisos, but they tend to situational and can be particular to the source of your magic, so we will address those in detail at a later date.”

The staff vanished, and in the next moment he was holding a traditional leaf-bladed short sword. “I often marvel that this practice is not favored among the Sisterhood. A priestess who can do it would never be disarmed. Ah, but do please correct me if I start to wander into theology,” he said with a wink. “As I was saying earlier, it naturally comes up when we discuss the divine, but isn’t directly germane to this class. Now then, holding a physical object made of divine light requires some concentration, but much less than it takes to create it in the first place. Today we will be attempting to make a simple object—the staff, as I just demonstrated.” He did so again, first dismissing the sword. “Its very simple form is an easy first project, and it also happens to be a particularly useful thing to know. There are a thousand and one uses to which a good staff can be put. Next time we meet, we’ll start to work on holding divinely created objects in existence without focusing your whole concentration on it. The trick can be dicey to acquire initially, but I think you’ll find, once you get there, it’s quite easy. All right, then! Who would like to start?”

Gabriel and November stepped forward simultaneously, then had a short, polite scuffle as each tried to yield the floor to the other. Professor Harklund had to end it by nominating Gabriel to try, admonishing each of them to pay close attention but please not attempt to follow the instructions until he could work with them individually.

The directions given were all about focusing, concentrating and feeling, the kind of talk that was familiar to anyone experienced with using magic but quite difficult for particularly concrete thinkers to initially grasp. Gabriel went about it with a most peculiar expression, a frown of intense concentration that kept flickering into a look of pure, childlike delight.

Trissiny eased over next to Toby, who was watching with a smile. “He looks so…”

“Yeah,” Toby agreed, nodding, his smile broadening. “He does.”

Gabriel’s lesson was interrupted by a yelp from November, who had manifested a golden quarterstaff in her hand, positioned so that she clocked herself in the head with it and tumbled over backwards.

Professor Harklund was by her side in seconds, placing a hand on her forehead and illuminating her with a gentle golden light.

“By far the greater part of your time spent in this class will be in individual practice,” he said to the others as he gently helped a wincing November to sit up. “However, Ms. Stark has just demonstrated the reason I ask that you not attempt new lessons unsupervised. As we get into more complex studies, the potential hazards become more severe. All right, Mr. Arquin, where were we?”

Gabriel got it a few moments later, after Harklund suggested he give up the two-handed staff grip he was holding, as the second point of contact increased the complexity of the initial summon. He absently rested his left hand on the hilt of his sword, and almost immediately found himself holding a staff made of light. No sooner had he whooped in triumph than it flickered out, leaving him grimacing.

“Very good!” Professor Harklund said approvingly, clapping him on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, Gabriel, holding it is another matter entirely, as I said. We’ll get to that in due course. Some of you may find that a magical aid to concentration can help with the initial summons, if you’re having trouble making that breakthrough. If any of you are still struggling by the end of this class and don’t possess any such devices yourself, I can provide one. This really is very much like learning to walk; getting the trick of it in the first place is the only hard part. All right, Ms. Stark, I believe you demonstrated a prodigious grasp of the basic technique without even meaning to. Ms. Avelea, would you care to go next?”

They went around the room in that fashion, each of the nine students attempting the feat individually. Trissiny did it all but instantly and without apparent effort, as did Shaeine; Professor Harklund left them to practice on their own, occasionally directing them to assist classmates who were getting irregular results from their repeated attempts. Once a student had managed to create a staff from midair, the Professor instructed them to keep at it and get a feel for the act. This caused steadily increasing tension among the remainders before they were called up to be walked through the process, but he had a very calming manner and was adept at handling classes of nervous pupils. By the time the session ended, more than half of them, working alone, had figured out the trick of holding a manifested staff in existence. Of those, only Trissiny, Shaeine and a junior girl named Clara had managed to keep one without actively concentrating on it. Everyone else lost theirs as soon as they attempted to speak or do anything with their staves—which probably averted several impromptu duels.

Everyone except Toby ended up having fun.

He simply could not get it to work. He never grew frustrated or nervous, simply staring at his open hand with a fixed, blank expression, creating futile spurts of light. Golden beams shot forth from either end of his fist at one point, but they were just light, with no solidity. At another, he conjured up a glittering outline, as if a layer of dust had settled over a staff, but not the staff itself. Eventually the Professor partnered him with Gabriel and Trissiny to practice and moved on to the next student, pausing only to give Toby a few encouraging words.

Still, despite all their best efforts, the class time came to an end without Toby having achieved more than a few interesting light effects. Harklund spoke with him quietly at one side of the room while the other students filed out, though Toby’s classmates waited to accompany him.

“It’s like he said,” Gabe said, slinging an arm over Toby’s shoulders. “It’s just…a trick. Once you get it, it’s the easiest thing. Hard to wrap your mind around in the first place, though.”

Toby just nodded, as calm and as distant as before.


 

“The man is absolutely barmy,” Maureen said in an awed tone.

Most of the freshman class had split after escaping the crowded, humid greenhouse, which had somehow seemed to become twice as crowded while Professor Rafe’s excessive personality was present. Now, the girls were on the way back to…

“Wait, where are we going?” Maureen asked, looking around. “This isn’t the path to the Well.”

“I frankly do not know,” Ravana declared, “nor am I terribly interested. We’re unlikely to fall down a hole or encounter a minotaur provided we stay outdoors and on campus, and to be quite honest, I feel an urgent need for some fresh air.”

“Imperial society is, on the whole, far more expressive than Narisian,” Szith said slowly. “Am I correct, then, in concluding that Professor Rafe was exuberant well beyond local standards of behavior?”

“Exuberant,” Maureen said, “irrational… I think the term would be eccentric if he were rich or a noble. Me, I’m goin’ with shoes-on-ears batscratch crazy.”

“Traditionally, academics are allowed to be eccentric, as well,” Ravana commented.

“He didn’t even notice me,” Iris burst out.

All five of them came to a stop, staring at her. At the rear of the group, several paces behind, Addiwyn snorted disdainfully.

“Professor Rafe?” Maureen asked cautiously.

“Lord Gabriel,” Iris said, seeming on the verge of tears. “He didn’t even…augh, not that I blame him, I babbled like an idiot. I’m such an idiot.”

“He noticed you,” said Szith. “In fact, he spoke to you.”

“You’re right,” Addiwyn snapped. “You are an idiot.”

“Excuse you?” Iris shrieked, whirling on her.

“If you spent a little more time worrying about your studies and less obsessing about boys,” the elf sneered, “perhaps you would be a happier, calmer type of idiot. Are you even aware that you were just in a class?”

“I’ve me doubts whether that qualified as a class,” Maureen mused, while Szith subtly interposed herself between Addiwyn and Iris, who had gone from the brink of crying to the brink of attack, judging by her posture and suddenly balled fists.

“It is hardly unconventional or inappropriate for college students to dwell on their love lives, or lack thereof,” Ravana said mildly.

“Besides which,” Szith added, “apart from Professor Tellwyrn’s frankly lunatic homework assignment and Professor Rafe’s instructions to drink something distilled from grains, which I personally am going to regard as a joke, we hardly have any school work about which to be concerned.”

“Really, Addiwyn,” Ravana added, “I don’t presume to know the reason for this directionless hostility of yours, but I cannot imagine how you expect it to end well for you.”

Addiwyn stalked forward until she was within arm’s reach of Ravana and stood, glaring down at her. They made an odd tableau: both girls slender, blonde and attired in a similarly old-fashioned style. The elf towered over the human, though, and wore an expression of almost childish fury—while Ravana, who looked the more physically childlike of the two, was calm and seemed faintly amused.

“Are you threatening me, little girl?” Addiwyn asked coldly.

“I am exercising common sense,” Ravana replied. “That you took it as a threat is a case in point. It is never a good idea to indiscriminately alienate everyone you meet.”

Addiwyn curled her lip, sniffed disdainfully, and shoved rudely past her, flouncing off down the sidewalk.

“Just what the hell is that girl’s problem?” Iris growled at her back.

“She can still hear you,” Szith observed.

“Good!”

“As Addiwyn has fortuitously walled herself off from our shared room, I believe we can dismiss her airs and nonsense from concern,” said Ravana. “She will either come around or come to grief; on her head be it. Meanwhile! You mentioned Professor Tellwyrn’s homework, Szith. I think it’s time we got a head start on it.”

Maureen and Iris drew back from her hesitantly; Szith just raised an eyebrow.

“Y-you’re eager to get started drawing up plans to ambush and…what was the word? Oh, right, neutralize each o’ yer roommates?” Maureen asked hesitantly.

“Oh, goodness, no,” said Ravana, waving a hand as though brushing away cobwebs. “We will not be doing that, ladies.”

“So…you want to do the homework, but you don’t want to do the homework?” Iris blinked twice. “I’m confused.”

“It’s not homework,” Ravana said with a smile, “it is a test. Tellwyrn’s pushing us, seeing how we react to pressure. To manipulation.”

“Apparently I react by getting confused,” said Iris.

“Aye, add me t’that!”

Szith remained silent, watching Ravana closely.

The blonde turned and resumed walking along the path, forcing the others to fall into step or be left behind, and carried on speaking. “Rather than let her turn us against one another, girls, we are going to do an equivalent group project, which will require some research. Let us make for the library while we have some free time.”

“Research on each other?” Maureen asked. “In the library?”

“No, no, Maureen. We’ll all get to know one another organically, over time, as such things are meant to happen. No, the subject of research will be the true enemy here. Arachne Tellwyrn is rather famous for being inexorable and unstoppable, but there are cracks in that awesome resume of hers. She has been beaten. She’s been outwitted, she has made mistakes, she has several times allowed herself to be manipulated by becoming overly emotional. We are going to perform a brief review of everything known about her adventuring career, find all the weaknesses, all the areas in which she can be and has been beaten…” She grinned, eyes fixed on the distance far ahead. “…and rub them in her face.”

A weighty silence hung over the group for several long seconds.

“Ravana,” Maureen said at last. “I like ye an’ all, please don’t think I don’t. But that… I really believe that is the worst idea I have ever heard.”

“It certainly sounds that way, doesn’t it?” Ravana said, half-turning as she walked to give the gnome a pleased smile over her shoulder. “And that is why it will work.”

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8 – 3

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“I think he’s mellowing with age.”

“I don’t think that man is capable of mellowing, Ruda,” Toby disagreed. “I think we’re just getting used to him. Which…could be a good or a bad thing, depending on how you look at it.”

“What’s bad about getting used to things?” asked Teal.

He shrugged, pushing his teacup back and forth on the table. “I don’t know…just something about this place. In hindsight I can see the point of a lot of what Tellwyrn’s subjected us to, but on the other hand, I sometimes get the feeling the University is training us to cope with a certain kind of ridiculousness that just doesn’t occur anywhere else.”

Ruda laughed and added another splash of brandy to her “tea.” She’d been doing that after every sip and not refilling it from the pot; by this point she basically had a teacup full of brandy.

The cafeteria was open to students at all hours except during the night. There weren’t meals to be had except at mealtimes, but they could almost always find hot tea and cold pastries. It had long been a popular place for groups to study, between the plentiful table space and free food, though the library was enjoying a resurgence in popularity since Weaver had been replaced by the somewhat awkward but vastly more pleasant Crystal.

The newly-minted sophomores had stopped in to relax and swap stories of their various summers after their first class. Rafe, as per his pattern, hadn’t kept them long, using a tenth of the allotted class time to do little but say hello, strike a few poses and give an extremely brief description of the focus of this year’s alchemical studies.

“The unexpected and extreme can occur anywhere,” Sheaine said. “Perhaps we are better served by—”

She was interrupted by an enormous antlered hare, which bounded onto the table and snatched the half-eaten muffin from Gabriel’s plate. Gabe yelped in surprised, jerking backward so hard he nearly tipped his chair over.

“Jack, no!” Juniper exclaimed, lunging across the table to seize the animal, which kicked in her grasp. Teal grabbed the teapot, barely averting a disaster. “I’m so sorry, he’s not really used to indoors, yet. We’re working on his manners.” The dryad settled her pet back in her lap, soothingly stroking his fur. Only the antlers were visible over the edge of the table.

“Well, this is as good a time as any to ask,” Gabriel said, grimacing and pushing away the smashed remains of his muffin. “June, what is with the rabbit?”

“Actually he’s a jackalope!” Fross chimed. “Closely related to rabbits, as you can see, but a distinct species. They’re fey, rather magical; an actual rabbit’s neck wouldn’t support the weight of those horns very well.”

“They’re antlers, not horns, and it’s a druid thing,” Juniper explained. “Animal companions are a tradition of druidic practice.”

“They’re called ‘pets,’ and they’re a tradition everywhere,” Ruda observed.

“Well, yes, but I mean it’s a specific druidic practice. Several traditions of shamanism and witchcraft make use of animal familiars. It’s a way of…well, it’s kind of technical…”

“It involves imbuing an animal with a part of one’s essence!” Fross said brightly. “Thus creating a second point of observation which is capable of instigating the wave-function collapse which is at the heart of all magical action.”

“Wave…what?” Teal asked, mystified.

“That’s arcane theory, though,” said Gabriel. “Does it really apply to druidic or any fae arts?”

“Arcane physics is so called because it’s most easily investigated by use of arcane magic,” Fross explained. “The principles themselves apply to basically all magic equally. That’s why magical creatures are popular familiars. Actually, some witches use pixies, if they can! Pixies are hard to get, though, you usually have to go to the Pixie Queen’s grove to find any, and she’s not big on visitors.”

“That’s an interesting choice, Juno,” Trissiny said. “Aren’t jackalopes sort of…infamously ornery?”

“Well, he’s not a true familiar,” Juniper said somewhat defensively. “I’m not at that point, not nearly. Really, I’m just starting out. The Elders had me take care of an animal for somewhat more mundane reasons. It’s all about forming a bond with—”

She broke off, having to grab and subdue Jack again as he launched himself at Teal’s plate.

“Taking on a more challenging prospect can be a way to learn more swiftly,” Shaeine observed. Juniper was too busy wrangling the jackalope to respond; he didn’t seem as interested in settling down in her lap again this time.

“Hey, check this out,” Ruda said, craning her neck to peer past Toby at the glass front wall of the cafeteria. “It’s the freshmen!”

“There are an awful lot of them,” Teal remarked, turning to look.

“Twenty-two!” said Fross. “The student roster is posted in the library.”

“Twenty-two isn’t a large class at most schools,” Toby pointed out. “Though…compared to nine, I guess it is.”

“Why are they all boys?” Trissiny asked, her brows lowering.

“Oh, here we go,” Ruda muttered, rolling her eyes.

“The Class of 1183 has seventeen men and five women,” said Fross, “which is a seventy-seven percent gender imbalance, which is the same as the seventy-seven percent gender imbalance in our class skewing the opposite way. Actually those are rounded percentages and ours is just slightly greater, but you get the idea.”

“I didn’t know you could do that kind of math in your head,” said Teal. “Bravo!”

“It’s an important skill if you’re going to study arcane magic,” said Gabriel. “Which is why I really ought to work on that…”

“And I do it in my mind, not my head,” Fross clarified.

“Hey, wanna go say hi to the newbies?” suggested Ruda. “Look, they’re trooping toward the greenhouse. Already had Tellwyrn’s claws in them and are about to meet Rafe. Makes you feel sorry for the little darlings.”

“You mean, like how Natchua said hi to us between our first two classes?” Toby said, smiling faintly.

“Well, no,” Ruda replied. “Because we aren’t creepy and pathetic.”

Gabriel cleared his throat pointedly.

“I stand corrected,” she said, grinning. “Most of us aren’t creepy and pathetic.”

“Thank you,” he said with deep dignity. “I hate to fuss, but a fella likes to be acknowledged.”

“It’s a good idea, though,” said Trissiny, standing up. “Shall we?”

“Yeah, sure,” Gabriel replied, glancing down at his desecrated muffin. “I guess we’re pretty much done here.”

“It’s almost time to head to Yornhaldt’s class anyway,” Toby added, also rising. “C’mon, we can meet the freshmen on the way.”

“Well, a few of them,” said Ruda. “They mostly went past while you lot were jabbering.”

Indeed, most of the students had gone past by the time they emerged onto the lawn. The freshmen walked alone or in small groups, forming a staggered line; some turned to look at the emerging sophomores, a few slowing down to stare as they recognized Trissiny’s armor and put the rest together. Only the last cluster actually stopped, though. For whatever reason, the girls were walking along at the end, with only a couple of their male classmates.

“Mornin’, little lambs!” Ruda said cheerily. “How’re you settling in?”

“Well, thank you,” said the drow woman politely, then turned fully to Shaeine and bowed. Shaeine nodded deeply in reply.

“Teal, how lovely to see you again,” said a diminutive girl with waist-length blond hair, smiling brightly.

“Likewise, your Grace,” Teal said in a carefully neutral tone.

“Pshaw, let’s not fuss about that,” the girl replied, waving a hand airily. “We are all equals here, as Professor Tellwyrn has just emphasized at some length. Call me Ravana.”

“If you say so,” Teal replied evenly. Shaeine eased closer to her, moving her hand so that the backs of her knuckles brushed Teal’s.

“Can I ask a question?” said the gnomish woman timidly, raising a hand and peering up at Ruda. “Are you really a princess?”

“Only on my parents’ side,” Ruda said lightly. “C’mon, girl, project from the diaphragm! Are you actually raising your hand? Trust me, outside of Tellwyrn’s class, that’s not gonna do you any good.”

“Ruda, be nice,” Trissiny said reprovingly.

“I am being nice! It’s all about confidence, Boots. C’mon, let me hear you roar!”

The gnome’s eyes widened, and she began sidling behind a tall, dark-skinned girl in a white dress, who was gawking at Gabriel.

“Hmph.” The speaker, whose derisive snort seized everyone’s attention, was a plains elf incongruously dressed in a conservative, old-fashioned human style. “We are going to be late. Come along,” she ordered, grabbing one of the boys—also an elf—by the arm and dragging him off toward the greenhouse. He glanced back at them, smiling timidly and offering a small wave.

“Well, damn,” Ruda said, raising her eyebrows. “Who pissed in her oatmeal?”

“Oh, she’s just like that,” said the girl in white. “Are… You’re Gabriel Arquin, aren’t you? The new paladin!”

“Um…for whatever that’s worth, yes, that’s me,” he said, smiling somewhat awkwardly and settling a hand on the hilt of his sword.

“That’s amazing!” she gushed, eyes shining. “I mean… You’re amazing! To be a demonblood and get to… Augh, I’ve wanted to meet you ever since I heard and when I got accepted here I just, oh I can’t even think!”

“Oh, gods, don’t do that,” Ruda groaned. “He gets a big head over the slightest little thing.”

“And this is my fan club,” said Gabe, turning to Ruda and raising an eyebrow. “Not to worry, if my head starts needing the air let out, I can always count on you to fucking stab me!”

“And he carries a grudge like you wouldn’t believe,” Ruda added, winking. “Anyway, you don’t need me to stab you anymore, Arquin, since you seem determined to carry that thing around.”

“I’m getting better with it,” he said defensively, running a hand over the black sword’s hilt, almost as if he were petting it. “Anyhow, it seems like an appropriate thing to carry, me being a paladin now, and all.”

“You were given a divine weapon,” Trissiny pointed out.

“Yes, but it fits in my pocket,” he said, grinning. “The ancient elven sword is so much more impressive.”

“It’ll be real impressive when you hack your foot off,” said Ruda. “I dunno, Arquin, something about you with a sword will just never look right.”

“Hey,” he protested, “do I give you crap about the special lady in your life?”

“…I can’t even start to deal with all the shit that’s wrong in that sentence.”

The remaining male member of the freshman party stepped forward and bowed directly to Trissiny. “General Avelea, may I say it is an honor to be in your presence, and one I have eagerly anticipated since long before my arrival.”

“Oh,” she said, nonplussed, “that’s kind of you.”

“Forgive me,” the young man replied with a smile. “I should have introduced myself to begin with. I am Sekandar Aldarasi, prince of Calderaas.”

He was dressed casually, in a simple open-collared shirt with pressed slacks. The lack of regalia did not detract from his claim, however; the boy was every bit as good-looking as a prince from a fairy tale would be, and carried himself with the confidence of a man who knew it.

“Wait, prince?” said Fross. “I’m confused. Calderaas is an Imperial province, right? How do they have royalty?”

“Calderaas is one of the original provinces,” said Ravana. “The then-Sultanate of Calderaas formed the alliance with the city-states of the Tira Valley that became the Tiraan Empire. Several of those first provinces still have royal titles, though the rank of king, sultana or whatever is applicable is functionally the same as that of an appointed provincial governor.”

“As the Lady Madouri knows quite well,” said Sekandar, nodding to her with a smile which she returned. He turned back to Trissiny, bowing again. “If it is permissible, General, I would greatly appreciate the opportunity to speak with you further.”

“Of…course,” she said uncertainly.

“For now,” said Ravana, “I think we should all be moving along. It’ll make a poor impression on our professors if we are late on the first day.”

“I shall count the hours till we are together again, my lady!” Gabriel proclaimed grandly, bowing deeply to her and ignoring Ruda’s snort.

“Aren’t you a charming one,” Ravana said with a coquettish flutter of her lashes. “Come along, girls.” The girl in white looked to be on the verge of some kind of outburst, but swallowed heavily and followed meekly along after the much shorter blonde.

The sophomores watched their younger counterparts retreat into the greenhouse in bemused silence.

“Gabe,” Teal said tersely, “not to meddle in your love life, but… Not that one.”

“That’s right,” he said, turning to her. “She implied you know her?”

“I…” She stared after Ravana, expression unreadable. “…am aware of her.”


“So, this is a departure,” Toby commented, peering around at Professor Yornhaldt’s classroom as they wandered into their seats.

“I like it,” said Teal. “Doesn’t seem like his style, though…”

“I’m not sure he did it,” said Juniper, frowning and stroking Jack, who rested in her arms. “There’s a lot of magic at work here. Fae magic. Professor Yornhaldt is an arcanist.”

Most of the room’s accoutrements were the same, but it had gained a great deal of greenery over the summer. The back corners of the room contained artfully arranged clusters of potted ferns, which spilled out in a riot of leafy fronds. Other plants were placed strategically under the windows and along the walls, and in a huge, squat container on the dais itself was a small cherry tree, bursting with lovely pink blossoms, for all that it was completely the wrong season.

“So,” Ruda said, turning in her seat to leer at Trissiny. “That boy was crushing on you hard, General Shiny Boots.”

“What?” Trissiny demanded, her cheeks coloring slightly. “What boy? You mean Prince Sekandar? Nonsense.”

“Oh, come on,” she snorted. “’Such an honor to be in your presence, general.’ He was way into you.”

“You’re being ridiculous,” Trissiny snapped. “He was just showing respect to a Hand of Avei. I simply happened to be that Hand.”

“There were three paladins standing right there,” Teal pointed out with a smile. “One of whom is a lot more interesting, for being new and unprecedented in several ways. Not to mention foreign royalty, a demigoddess…”

“Hm, Gabriel the Unprecedented,” Gabe mused. “I like the way that rings. I should have business cards printed up.”

“Calderaas has been heavily Avenist for over a thousand years,” Trissiny said testily. “The old Sultanate was a matriarchy and a lot of its traditions are still alive. Naturally an Aldarasi prince would be more interested in a paladin of Avei.”

“One presumes,” Shaeine observed, “that a prince of any extraction would be sufficiently poised not to snub the other members of a party to whom he was introduced. Unless, of course, he were emotionally overwhelmed by, for example, meeting the object of his distant affections…”

“Not you, too!” Trissiny exclaimed. The drow smiled at her, with only the faintest hint of mischief.

“Yeah, that boy wants you bad,” said Ruda, grinning insanely. “Juno, back me up here!”

“Oh, I don’t like to spread other people’s business around,” the dryad demurred, scratching behind Jack’s antlers. “I can’t help picking up on people’s desires and inclinations, but there’s no reason anyone else should be privy to that information. Everyone’s privacy is important.”

“Thank you, Juniper,” Trissiny said stiffly.

“No dryad business, then,” said Ruda. “Just girl talk, based on what you saw.”

“Oh, just that? Then yeah, he was totally into you.”

“Good morning, class.”

Several of them jumped, all whirling to stare at the dais. No one had seen her enter, but a woman now stood there, beneath the cherry blossoms, smiling mysteriously up at them. She was slender, with luxuriant black hair, almond-shaped eyes and vulpine features, and dressed in a sleek silk robe in dark green with a subtle pattern of white ferns around the hem and cuffs.

Most eye-catchingly, triangular ears, covered in reddish fur, poked up through her hair. A bushy tail extended from behind her, through some apparent opening in her robe, also dusky red and tipped in white. It twitched twice as they stared at her in shocked silence.

The doors of the classroom were infamously squeaky, and were easily within their frame of view. She had not come in that way.

“Let us begin by attending to the obvious, shall we?” said the fox-woman, still with that enigmatic smile. “Professor Yornhaldt is taking an unexpected sabbatical for this semester. I am assuming his duties in the classroom. I am Professor Ekoi, interim teacher of magical arts.” She bowed gracefully, her ears twitching. “And of course, I know each of you by description, and by reputation. You created quite the stir on this campus at the end of the spring term, did you not?

“It is my understanding that last year, you explored the basics of magic—what it is, and how it is used. In my class, you will be learning more specific, more practical things pertaining to that same basic school of thought. We will be examining each of the four common systems of magic, as well as the few which lie outside such classifications, with regard to their actual use. It should be your goal to learn to identify magical objects, creatures, spells and attacks, and understand how each should be dealt with. In short, you have absorbed sufficient theory that you can now begin learning facts. And, more importantly, strategies. You have a question, Mr. Arquin?”

“Yeah,” Gabriel said, lowering his hand. “Um, what exactly are you?”

Professor Ekoi gazed up at him placidly, in silence, until he shifted uncomfortably in his seat and opened his mouth to speak again.

Suddenly she flicked her wrist, and a folded hand fan slipped out of the wide sleeve of her robe, landing neatly in her grip. She swirled it open, covering her face below the eyes and revealing its pattern of calligraphy in a language that wasn’t familiar to them. Then, in a very disorienting spectacle, she twirled the fan in a full circle. It did not visibly grow, and yet it somehow concealed all of her body in passing—and she did not reappear when it moved on. The fan whirled in a complete arc and then vanished into its own center, like water swirling down a drain, leaving nothing behind.

The students gaped down at the empty dais.

“Um,” said Gabriel, “I didn’t mean to yipe!”

“There is endless variety in this world, Mr. Arquin,” Professor Ekoi murmured from right behind him, close enough that he could feel her breath. He could also feel the tips of her sharp nails, resting against his throat. Trissiny half-rose, gripping the hilt of her sword, but made no further movements as the professor continued. “People of every conceivable belief, origin and description. If you are privileged to lead a long life, and to explore the world in all its beauty, you shall come to know the grand diversity of its inhabitants—provided you possess the sense to absorb what you are shown. And you will find, Mr. Arquin, that none of these people enjoy being referred to as a what.”

He hissed softly as the tips of her claws—and those were clearly not just nails—pricked his skin. Five tiny points of blood welled up.

Before he could react physically, she was gone.

And then the professor stepped out from behind the cherry tree, down on the dais. “Except,” she said pleasantly, “for individuals in certain…specialty social clubs one tends to find in the major cities, which you are unlikely to enter or even discover without a specific invitation. For now, we should focus our attention upon the study of magic, children. Now, let us begin.”


Walter tromped through the tallgrass back toward the homestead, four hares strung on the rope thrown over his shoulder. It was early, not even noon yet, but he’d had the luckiest morning of hunting in a good long while, solid enough that he could justify taking the afternoon off. Ma would be happy enough with the meat he brought in to let him go without a fuss…probably. He had his bow in one hand, quiver hanging at his hip—he had a wand, of course, but that was for emergency use against any predators he happened to encounter. Lightning had a bad effect on game. All in all, he was in a great mood, whistling as he walked.

As such, he wasn’t paying terribly close attention, lost in his thoughts, and didn’t spot the other person coming toward him until Smitty barked. The hound was staring, on point but not growling, meaning he didn’t sense a threat. That was generally good enough for Walter; he found dogs were the best judges of character.

Then the individual coming toward him through the tallgrass pushed aside a particularly dense clump, coming fully into view, and he froze, almost dropping his bow and hares.

She was a girl, looking to be about his age, maybe a few years older, and stunningly beautiful in a way he only saw in magazine illustrations and never before on an actual woman. Also, she had pale green hair and was stark naked. He’d have been hard pressed to say which of those traits commanded more of his attention.

“Hello!” the nude girl said brightly.

“Uh… H-hi,” Walter choked out, then swallowed, struggling valiantly to keep his eyes on her face, a battle he knew he was doomed to lose. Not that it wasn’t a gorgeous face, but she also had gorgeous breasts, and he’d never actually seen… He gulped again, trying desperately to maintain an even keel. “Um, can I…help you with something, miss?”

She tilted her head to one side as if thinking, and suddenly frowned. “Maybe. Did you kill my sister?”

That made even less sense to Walter than her appearance and manner, but luckily he had a ready and truthful answer to it. “No, ma’am, I didn’t.”

“Oh, okay, then,” she said, that dazzling smile returning. “Maybe you can give me directions! Am I still headed toward Last Rock? Is it close?”

Last Rock. It figured. Ma always said the only downside of living out here was the proximity to that place.

“You’re headin’ the right way,” he said, looking at her chest again in spite of himself. “It’s about thirty miles on. Careful not to stray too far north or you’ll be in the Golden Sea.”

“Oh, I know all about that,” she said dismissively, taking a step closer.

Smitty whined, and instantly Walter was on full alert. The hound pressed hard against his leg, clearly frightened. His teenage hormones were telling him one thing, but the dog told him something very different—and he knew quite well which was more trustworthy.

“Since you offered to help, though,” she said, licking her lips and smiling broadly, “I’m kinda hungry. Can I have a couple of your rabbits?”

“Oh,” he said, easing backward from her. “I, uh…” It had been a lucky morning, true, and he had ample time to go back out and hunt more… But this was a significant amount of good meat, not to mention what the pelts would sell for.

“Don’t worry, I’d make it worth your while,” the girl promised, stepping forward again, her smile widening. “Would you like to have sex?”

He very nearly exploded on the spot. Ma was forever going on about how boys his age had exactly one thing on their minds, and to be truthful, that thing was very much on his mind right now. Meeting a nude beauty in the tallgrass and receiving such an offer…this was a situation straight out of some of his more absurd fantasies.

But Smitty wasn’t the only one whose instincts were jangling, now. Walter had looked into the eyes of predators before.

“Tell ya what,” he said carefully. With the slow, even movements he knew wouldn’t startle or provoke a wild animal, he pulled the string of hares from his shoulder and held it out toward her. “You just help yourself, my treat. I’ve gotta get home.”

“Aw, you sure?” she said, pouting slightly even as she took the hares. Her warm brown eyes flicked up and down his body, making his pulse accelerate. “I wasn’t just offering a trade. I think it’d be swell to stop and make love. Don’t you?”

Walter had to gulp twice before he could speak again. That would be swell. But Ma, it seemed, wasn’t wrong about everything; the very, very bad feeling he had about this was more powerful than lust. Her knowing smirk widened, almost as if she could tell what he was thinking. Maisie Taathir down at the trading post sometimes gave him that impression, especially when she caught him sneaking a peek at her bum, but…not like this.

“I really have to go,” he repeated. Smitty whined again.

“Okay, then,” she said with a shrug that did extremely interesting things to her chest.

Walter tipped his hat to her, backed up a few steps, then half-turned to set off in a wide arc around her, keeping her in his peripheral view.

As he watched, she licked her lips again, then calmly ripped a leg off one of the hares and bit into it, fur and all. Bone crunched audibly and she made a soft sound of approval.

He didn’t walk backward, but kept going in the slightly wrong direction at an angle until a more comfortable distance had stretched out between them. Even then, Walter very carefully kept his pace measured as he and Smitty left the girl behind.

It was, as he knew very well, a bad idea to run from a predator.

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“Wait—”

“Cover me!” Ruda ordered, charging straight at the hthrynxkh, sword-first. It brandished its own weapon, which seemed to be a black jawbone still full of jagged teeth, and gargled something at her in its own language, which neither of them understood. The hiszilisks awaiting orders nearby also charged, however, forcing Fross to choose between dealing with that and upbraiding her classmate.

She decided the second option could wait for later.

Fross ascended a few feet and shot forward, placing herself between Ruda and the oncoming hiszilisks. Whether they even saw her was debatable, but she rendered it irrelevant by emitting a cloud of freezing vapor that neutralized their wings, sending them squawking to the ground. Despite the number of spells she had been carefully learning over the last few months, in the stress of the moment Fross fell back on what was most familiar, not to mention what cost her the least energy to use. A dozen icicles formed in the air, slashing forward and pinning each demon to the ground. They wouldn’t last long in this climate, especially not driven through Hell-formed flesh, but any of the hiszilisks still alive when they melted wouldn’t be going anywhere.

Ruda was having a harder time of it. In the few seconds which had passed before Fross could pay attention to her again, she had found herself grappling with the hthrynxkh at a much closer range than her rapier favored. They had stumbled into the shade of the cafeteria’s rear colonnade, and the demon had pushed Ruda against the wall; Fross could see her hand gripping its wrist, preventing it from bringing down its weapon, but it had a similar grip on her sword arm. In that position, the demon’s greater height and reach gave it the advantage.

Fross quickly considered her options; most of her commonly-used attacks were out. Electricity would conduct through Ruda, any area-of-effect spell like the icy cloud would strike them both, and impaling it with an icicle risked stabbing her classmate as well as the demon. She had to settle for something much less dramatic.

The hthrynxkh barely reacted to the snowballs with which she pelted its back. It growled, but Fross couldn’t tell if that was in response to her or its struggle with Ruda, who had just kicked it hard in the knee, trying to wrench it to the side and off her. Even down on one knee, it was nearly as tall as she, and was already pushing back upright.

Chiming in annoyance, Fross drew on her stored arcane energy for something so counterintuitive to her that she’d been almost afraid to try it, though the spell itself was quite simple. Basic, even, one of a mage’s most elementary standbys.

Basic it might have been, but the fireball which impacted on the hthrynxkh’s back made it shriek in pain, stiffening and nearly losing its grip on Ruda.

In the next second it started squealing and stumbled backward, dropping the black jawbone and swatting at the girl. Not until they had staggered a few feet away and spun almost completely around, leaving Ruda’s feathered hat lying on the pavement, could Fross see that the pirate had clamped her teeth onto the demon’s throat and was growling and trying to shake a bite loose like a terrier.

“Oh, that’s not good,” Fross said, and was completely ignored.

The hthrynxkh had finally had enough; it relinquished Ruda’s arm to bludgeon and push at her with both hands. That was exactly what she’d been waiting for; she allowed it to shove her away, then calmly whipped up her sword and stabbed it straight through the throat, right where the marks of her teeth were oozing ichor.

“Blech,” Ruda spat, whipping her blade free as the hthrynxkh collapsed. “Thing’s got hide like leather.”

“Yeah, that’s for armor and support; they have kind of frail bones. Ruda, you got demon blood in your mouth.”

“I noticed,” Ruda said, scrubbing black blood off her chin with a sleeve. “Fuckin’ ew. Tastes like coffee, but somehow worse.”

“It’s also really dangerous! Most demons are at least somewhat toxic, and the infernal corruption—”

“Whoop, we got company. Chat later.” Ruda turned, raising her sword, as two more hthrynxkhs rounded the corner of the cafeteria. They paused, apparently startled at seeing the students, but one whistled sharply and the other quickly collected itself, running forward to meet Ruda’s charge with its bone-spear upraised.

“Oh, crud,” Fross complained. A well-directed blast of frost knocked over the shadowlord which had summoned help, and then she was occupied dealing with that help. An entire group of hiszilisks had dived toward them at the signal. Fross sent three successive bolts of lightning through their formation—not natural lightning as wands fired, but a combat spell that sent arcs of it snapping between them, burning them badly even though they avoided the worst of it by not being grounded. No sooner had that small swarm fallen, though, than another came at them.

Those she brought down with a cloud of freezing mist, then had to pause to ice the hthrynxkh again, lest it join its comrade in attacking Ruda, following that up with two fired icicles. One missed entirely and the second only grazed it, but she had to turn and deploy lightning at the grounded hiszilisks before they could get aloft again. In the time that took, the shadowlord took refuge behind a pillar.

Fross was by far the more nimble of them, but she paused to check on Ruda rather than chasing it.

Somewhat to her surprise, the pirate was just finishing off the hthrynxkh she’d attacked; somehow she had ended up holding both her rapier and the pointy end of its spear, which had been broken off in the middle. She was just straightening up from stabbing it in the chest with both—it had several other bleeding wounds already—when its companion let out another, louder whistle.

Three separate squads of hiszilisks turned sharply, coming at them from multiple directions.

Luckily, Fross’s education among mortal society had equipped her with appropriate commentary for just such a situation.

“Shit fuck crap damn hell!”

Her attacks were less effective because they had to be faster and more diffuse; she had no shielding spells (that was pretty advanced arcane work, well beyond her level), and wouldn’t be able to protect Ruda if the demons closed with them. Clouds of ice, balls of fire, arcs of chain lightning all lashed out, wounding and driving back their attackers but not doing significant damage to any one group. A single hiszilisk fell from the air, and she couldn’t spare the attention even to discern what had brought it down.

“You come to my world?”

The hthrynxkh staggered out from behind the pillar, Ruda right on top of it, her features twisted in rage. It caught its balance, settling into a fighting crouch, but she pressed forward, lashing out with her sword. The demon actually caught the blade, then howled in shock and pain as she ripped it free of its grip, severed fingers flying. Apparently there was enough magic in its being to be extremely vulnerable to mithril, which it had likely never encountered in Hell.

“You come to my campus, attack my friends, and get into my fucking face with your greasy-ass hide and you fucking little bug-thing asshole buddies?!” Ruda screamed, slashing wildly. That was no proper rapier technique, but despite the lightness of the blade, she was opening wide gashes on its tough skin with each blow. The demon staggered away from her, now trying to turn and flee in earnest.

Fross diverted her attention from that to send a much more serious cloud of ice at the closest group of hiszilisks, which had gotten entirely too close for her liking. Not close enough that the spell had the full effect she wanted, but they spun out, several plummeting to the ground and the rest drifting away from her. The other two swarms had coalesced into a single unit, which actually made her job easier. Two flashes of chain lightning brought down a handful of them, convincing the rest to circle away and try from another angle.

The hthrynxkh let out a squall that demanded her attention. Fross threw a desultory fireball at the retreating hiszilisks before turning to stare.

Ruda had chased it out from under the awning and into a tree. Into the tree, literally; the demon was groping at the broken-off shaft of its compatriot’s spear, which had been thrust through its belly into the trunk behind. It shrieked again when Ruda drove her rapier straight through its upper chest. The fact that it managed suggested they didn’t keep their lungs in the same place as mortals.

She was snarling savagely now, flecks of foam actually forming at the corners of her mouth.

“You want a piece of mortal life? Well here it is, you little shit!”

Ruda drew back her fist and punched the demon hard, right in the face. Its head rocked backward, cracking against the tree trunk. Then she pulled back and struck it again…and again. She kept up the barrage of blows, roaring the whole time, punctuating her words with punches.

“You came! To the wrong! Fucking! Town!” The demon jibbered pitifully, trying to ward her off with both hands, which she ignored. “I’m not! Some easy! Meat! I am a MOTHER! FUCKING! PIRATE! QUEEN!”

The crack which followed was loud enough to be audible despite the buzzing and yelling going on in all directions. The hthrynxkh’s head deformed under Ruda’s final blow, her fist sinking deep into the center of its face. Foul-smelling ichor spurted out through its nose and mouth, leaking from the eyes and ears, and finally the demon slumped, falling still.

Fross realized that she had been staring at this spectacle in shock for several long moments, and she wasn’t the only one. The nearby hiszilisks had fallen into a stationary hovering pattern, watching.

Ruda stood with her fist embedded in the shadowlord’s face for several seconds, panting so heavily that her shoulders heaved. Then, quite suddenly, she stepped back, seized the hilt of her rapier and yanked it loose, causing the hthrynxkh’s corpse to slough forward over the spear haft still pinning it to the tree. She turned, grinning insanely, and pointed her sword up at the assembled hiszilisks.

“All right, fuckers, there’s plenty for everyone. Form a line.”

Instantly, they broke formation, turning and buzzing away from her at top speed.

Ruda laughed loudly. “Candy-assed little daffodils! C’mon, partner, let’s go find something else to kill.”

“Whoah, hold up!” Fross protested, buzzing down lower. Ruda’s eyes were alarmingly wide, her pupils narrowed to pinpricks, and she was baring her teeth like a coursing hound. “Ruda, you’ve ingested demon blood. A small amount, but it’s clearly affecting you.”

“Bullshit, I’ve never felt better in my life!”

“Uh, yeah, that’s the euphoria and aggression. You’re drugged.”

“I don’t get drugged!”

“And I’m still curious about the mechanism behind that but right now I bet it’s the only reason you’re not dead. Infernal biomatter reacts very badly with—”

“Oh, blah blah yackety horseshit,” Ruda snorted, stalking off toward the corner of the cafeteria and the main lawn beyond. “You can scholarize on your own time, right now there’s…a…”

She slowed to a halt, swaying, and abruptly crumpled to the ground, dropping her rapier.

“Ruda? Ruda!” Fross buzzed about her frantically. Ruda’s eyes were rolled back, her mouth flecked with foam. She wasn’t convulsing, at least, so probably wouldn’t choke… Fross chimed discordantly in wordless dismay. Why didn’t she have healing potions stored in her aura? A first aid kit, at least! Her entire social circle consisted of reckless people who attracted danger.

“Medic! Healer!” she called, fluttering in frantic circles above her fallen classmate. “Trissiny? Juniper! Shaeine! Help!”

A loud buzzing and rapidly approaching cries alerted her. A whole throng of hiszilisks were zooming toward her, apparently drawn by her shouts. The pixie came to a stop, staring up at them.

“Oh, great,” she muttered. “Didn’t think that all the way through, did we, Fross?”


 

“Now where are they all going?” Vadrieny asked, frowning, as a flock of hiszilisks buzzed past overhead.

“Look,” said Toby, pointing at the corner of the cafeteria. From the space beyond, there came a flicker of bluish light. A group of hiszilisks vanished around the corner, another approaching from above. Whatever it was, they seemed awfully attracted to it. “You think that’s one of…”

“Must be,” Gabriel said tersely. “We’ll catch up, Vadrieny, go.”

She was already aloft, diving through a flock of flying demons in passing and scattering them, sending a couple to the ground in pieces. Gabriel and Toby followed at a run. They were no match for her airborne speed, but reached the corner in only a few moments, rounding it at full tilt.

They took in the scene without slowing. Ruda, on the ground; Fross above her, defending desperately. The pixie lashed out with ice, fire, lightning and beams of pure arcane light, but it wasn’t enough. Though she heavily outclassed any of her attackers, their numbers were inevitably overwhelming her, and her very spells were creating a spectacle that seemed to constantly attract more.

Vadrieny cleaved through an oncoming flight of hiszilisks, circling around to smash the formation of a second group, but more still streamed around her on all sides. Gabriel took aim with his wand and let loose a gout of hellfire that reduced an entire squad to ash.

Still more were coming. It was almost as bad as the students’ first stand against the initial charge, and this time they hadn’t the benefit of Shaeine’s shield.

“Get in there and flare up,” Gabe ordered tersely. “It’ll weaken Fross but it might help Ruda.”

“But you and Vadrieny—”

“She can take it, and it’s just pain. I fight better from range anyway. Hurry!”

Toby redoubled his speed, pulling ahead—he’d always been in better shape than Gabriel, and even having the hellfire coursing through him under control didn’t augment his actual attributes any more than berserking had.

A wash of gold light spread outward from Toby, causing Fross to flutter drunkenly toward the ground for a moment and several hiszilisks to peel off, screeching in distress, but the bulk of them slowed only slightly.

They weren’t going to be fast enough.

One demon dived in, taking advantage of the pixie’s momentary lapse in cover fire, landing atop Ruda and raising his stinger. Gabriel and Fross shouted in unison, both too far away.

Juniper had to have come at a dead run, judging by the speed with which she was skidding. She slid in on one hip, pouring her full weight and momentum into the hiszilisk in a kick.

It departed the scene horizontally so fast they didn’t even see it move, leaving one wing and a splatter of icor behind. The demon smashed through one of the pillars outside the cafeteria, making a crater in the brick wall behind it.

A silver shield slammed into place above the group, forming a disk against which a squadron of hiszilisks bashed themselves. Shaeine came running in right behind Juniper, her robes flying behind her; she reached the fallen pirate about the same time Gabriel did. With that, the shield flexed, forming a hemisphere, the edges coming to the ground around them and sealing them off from their attackers.

Vadrieny landed at the apex of it, threw back her head, and let out a long scream.

The buzzing demons whirled away, screeching in dismay, their siege broken. In moments they had cleared the area.

Gabriel considered demanding why she hadn’t just done that in the first place, and decided nothing worthwhile could come of it.

“Yeah, you better run!” Fross shouted, then immediately contradicted herself. “Get back here! I’m gonna hex you so hard eighteen generations of your descendants will piss themselves at the sight of fireflies!”

“I think you’ve been hanging out with Ruda too much,” Gabriel informed her. “Toby, how is she? Safe to move?”

The bubble vanished and Vadrieny hit the ground beside them, immediately sweeping Shaeine up into a hug. For a wonder, the drow didn’t offer a word of protest.

“She’s poisoned, not injured,” Fross reported. “Carefuly, Toby, it’s basically pure infernal magic. Holy healing might cause a bad reaction. She got blood from one of them in her mouth.”

“She bit one?” Gabriel exclaimed. “Man, I wish that surprised me more than it does.”

“Oh, this sounds I’m better suited to treat it, no offense, Toby.” Juniper knelt over Ruda, grimacing. “Sorry ’bout this, Ruda, I don’t know another way to do it.” Gently tucking a hand behind Ruda’s neck, the dryad lifted her head and kissed her full on the mouth.

Gabriel turned his back, scanning the skies with his wand up. The hiszilisks appeared to have taken Vadrieny’s warning seriously, and they weren’t being approached by any shadowlords. In fact, the only hthrynxkhs in sight were corpses. “Is everyone okay? What happened?”

“We went to the astronomy tower,” Shaeine said, standing on her own now, but still pressed against Vadrieny’s side, with one clawed hand resting on her waist. “It was the last plan we had, and we hoped the others would gather there.”

“We were trying,” said Fross. “Is she gonna be okay?”

“Pleh,” Juniper said, straightening up and grimacing. “Yeah, I got it all. Yuck. Why in the world would she bite a demon?”

“It probably made more sense in context,” said Toby.

“Fuck!” Ruda abruptly sat bolt upright, snatching up her sword from where it had fallen next to her. “Fucking—where the— Oh. Hi, everybody. Did we win?”

A deep hiss from the nurdrakhaan, somewhere out of sight, made them all freeze.

“We’re working on it,” Gabriel said tersely.

“Where’s Trissiny?” Juniper peered around, her forehead creased in worry. “She’s the only one still missing…”

“Trissiny…” Toby broke off at another distant hiss, then straightened his shoulders resolutely. “…is better prepared than any of us for exactly this kind of situation. We’ll assume she’s fine until we learn otherwise.”

“Okay,” Juniper said, nodding, and turned back to Ruda. “How do you feel?”

“Oddly refreshed,” the pirate reported, scrubbing at her mouth with the back of her hand.

“Good,” said Teal, still with her arm around Shaeine; Vadrieny had only just receded. “What possessed you to bite a demon?”

“Teeth are an excellent natural weapon when you’ve got no others available,” Ruda said dismissively, climbing to her feet. “Never mind that, you see that asshole nailed to the tree? I punched his fucking skull in!”

“Bet that’s not the part that made you collapse.”

“Fuck you, Arquin.”

“He’s not wrong, though. At least when I do it I don’t faint afterwards!” Juniper’s grin faded as they all turned to stare at her. “…right. Too soon. Sorry.”

“We’ve got a breather here,” Gabriel said, “but it won’t last. Plan still stands; let’s get to the tower and under what cover there is, and try not to attract more attention till someone important comes through the portal. Once we can get our hands on an officer or warlord or whatever they’ve got, we’ll be making progress toward getting rid of them.”

“Sounds like a plan,” said Teal, nodding.

“Why the fuck are we taking orders from Arquin?” Ruda demanded. “And… Holy shit, your eyes are black. How are you talking at all?”

“First part because he’s talking sense, and I think we can wait to hear the second part until there’s less of a crisis going on,” Toby said. “It’s a good idea, let’s move.”

“Uh, guys?” said Fross. “We’re waiting for a bigger, more important demon, right? How’s that look?”

They turned and craned their necks in unison, staring up at the portal. Another wave of a dozen hthrynxkhs was descending, each borne aloft by two hiszilisks, but behind them came a lizard-like creature with feathered wings, bigger than a horse. It dived almost straight down, giving them a view of the hulking, bronze-scaled demon astride the saddle on its back.

“That looks promising,” said Gabriel with a smile. “Vadrieny, if you would?”


 

“Uh…why do you have a rack of battlestaves in the faculty lounge?” Rook asked, gripping the staff he’d been offered.

“This is a college,” Tellwyrn said, handing the last weapon to Moriarty. “Why wouldn’t there be a rack of battlestaves in the faculty lounge? Now keep close, I may need some covering fire if I have to do anything complicated.”

She led the way out into the hall, striding toward the lobby.

“As long as we don’t have to get into any kind of conveyance with you, sure,” said Finchley. “In fact, I am never, ever doing that again. If the options are ‘ride with Tellwyrn’ or ‘get eaten by demons,’ I’ll just take poison and hope they choke on me.”

“Most of them don’t eat people,” said Tellwyrn. “They might make an exception for you, though. I hear melodrama makes the meat sweeter.”

The door of a nearby classroom burst off its hinges and a scrawny, black-scaled figure burst into the hall, hissing at them. All three soldiers let out wild yells, bringing up their weapons and unleashing a barrage of lightning.

Two seconds later, there was silence. The tips of the staves smoked slightly, and the smell of ozone hung heavy in the air. Black char marked huge swaths of stone surrounding the now-scarred doorframe. In the center of it, the demon clutched at its chest as if feeling for wounds.

Then it exploded. Bits of gore and scaly leather splattered the floor around them, held back from the men by an invisible shield.

Standing a couple of yards to the side of them, Tellwyrn lowered her hand, which had been pointing at the demon. She wasn’t even looking in its direction, but staring at them in disbelief.

“Um,” Finchley offered weakly, “…I think these are misaligned.”

“That was a shadowlord,” she said. “They have a proper name, but it just sounds like a throat full of phlegm. Stealth and short-range teleportation, plus very resistant skin, but rather brittle bones. Try to shoot them from a distance if you see more; if they close with you, don’t bother trying to cut them. Use blunt force.”

“Except we don’t have any cutting or clubbing weapons,” Rook protested.

“A staff is a clubbing weapon, you shambling simpleton,” she exclaimed. “Someday I need to pin you to an examining table and try to figure out how your ancestors managed to breed. Stay behind me and… You know what, just keep those staves pointed at my back. That’s probably my best bet for not getting shot.”

She stalked off into the lobby. The three crestfallen soldiers followed her after a moment’s silent brooding.

Tellwyrn led the way through the lobby and out onto the front steps of Helion Hall, where the group paused for a moment, taking in the spectacle. The hellgate swirled above them, its surrounding funnel of clouds glowing faintly orange and flickering with the afterglow of red lightning. Hiszilisks buzzed everywhere in the near distance, though there currently appeared to be none close to the ground on the uppermost terrace.

“Hm,” Tellwyrn said thoughtfully, planting her fists on her hips and peering around. “What we need is…ah, yes. Perfect timing.”

The red-scaled lizard dropped like a stone, banking at the last possible moment with a dramatic sweep of its colorfully feathered wings and settling to the ground on the lawn just down the steps. It hissed loudly, shaking its frilled head, and the hulking creature perched on its neck stepped down. Nearby, more shadowlords dropped to the grass, released by the hiszilisks that had been carrying them.

Tellwyrn bounded down the steps of the Hall, strolling forward to meet the demons and looking totally unconcerned. Behind her, the soldiers crept forth more warily, weapons up.

The baerzurg stomped up to her, grinning. “This land is claimed in the—”

“You are on my lawn,” Tellwyrn announced.

The demon paused, apparently surprised, then narrowed its already beady eyes, looking her up and down. “I could crush you with one hand.”

She burst into gales of laughter. The baerzurg scowled heavily; around him, the shadowlords looked at him, and then each other, as if uncertain what to do. They likely weren’t accustomed to being greeted this way.

“Who dares to stand in my way?” the baerzurg demanded finally.

“My name,” she said, her laughter cutting off instantly, “is Arachne Tellwyrn.” She tilted her head forward, peering up at the demon over the tops of her spectacles. “And you. Are on. My lawn.”

“Tellwyrn?” The demon’s eyes widened. “Oh—I didn’t—I mean, nobody told us… That is, perhaps we can—”

And then a streak of flame flashed past, and he was gone. Screaming triumphantly, Vadrieny arced back up into the sky, the baerzurg flailing as it dangled from one of her claws.

Professor Tellwyrn blinked her eyes twice in astonishment, before a thunderous scowl fell across her features. “Did that spoony bard just—”

The hiss that sounded from above was enough to shake the very ground.

“Oh, fuck,” Rook said, looking upward.

The assembled shadowlords, coming to the same conclusion, whirled and fled. The three soldiers bolted, too, diving past Tellwyrn and all attempting to huddle behind her slender frame. She turned, watching calmly, as the titanic shape of the nurdrakhaan bore down straight at them. It was listing sideways in flight, one of the air sacs behind its head burst open and trailing streamers of fire, and seemed to be falling more than flying.

Tellwyrn lifted one hand and made a swatting motion.

The beast was wrenched to one side in midair, its bulk hitting the ground just in front of Helion Hall and pulverizing the pavement. It continued to slide past, tearing up ground as it went, its armored face plowing into the cafeteria and demolishing that entire half of the building. The thrashing coils of its body smashed into the front of Helion Hall, crushing the decorative stonework and collapsing the atrium and a good chunk of the structure behind. The entire structure rumbled, more distant rockfalls sounding as some of the pieces which abutted the edge of the cliff apparently fell off.

The silence which fell when the nudrakhaan finally stopped moving was quite sudden, and seemed absolute in comparison to the havoc of its landing, even with the buzzing of hiszilisks forming a constant backdrop.

Then, just behind the ruptured air sac, a line of gold appeared between two plates of the creature’s armor. They flexed outward, emitting a much brighter glow along with a gush of smoking black blood that withered the grass where it fell. The fragments of armor pulsed twice, then one suddenly tore loose entirely, falling to the ground. It landed, smoldering, inches from Professor Tellwyrn.

Trissiny Avelea staggered out, completely coated in ichor, and bent double, dropping her sword and shield to lean on her knees with both hands, panting.

“Young lady,” Tellwyrn said severely, “you are so very grounded.”

“’m fine, thanks f’r ask’ng,” Trissiny wheezed. “Sec…”

She straightened up, and a blaze of brilliant gold shone out from her. Acrid smoke billowed up as the demonic effluvia coating her boiled away, sending the three soldiers staggering backward away from the stench. In its aftermath, as the light slowly died down, she rolled her neck and shoulders, shaking her arms, a dozen bruises and cuts fading from her skin.

“Right,” the paladin said more crisply, bending to retrieve her weapons. “What’s the situation?”

“Grounded,” Tellwyrn repeated.

“You…you killed a nurdrakhaan,” Moriarty all but whispered, staring at her in awe.

“Yes,” Tellwyrn said acidly, “irritating and generally obstreperous as she is, one tends to forget that a Hand of Avei is very serious business indeed.”

“Last time a nurdrakhaan came onto this plane, it took four strike teams, an Imperial mag artillery unit and the Ninth Silver Legion to bring it down,” Moriarty said, still staring. “They suffered seventy percent losses.”

Tellwyrn turned to him, finally looking surprised. “You know your history.”

“Yes, well, it turns out there’s a trick to it,” Trissiny said. “They’re only impervious on the outside.”

“Uh huh,” the Professor said skeptically. “And did you have some kind of plan that involved this outcome, or did you just stick your sword—”

“Would you mind holding your usual sarcastic commentary until we’re out of this?” Trissiny interrupted. “My friends are probably still in immediate danger, and I need to find them.”

Tellwyrn snorted. “Oh, they’re in danger all right, but it starts after I get rid of the demons on my campus and have you all to myself. As far as the demons themselves go, they seem to be doing just fine.”


 

“Huh,” said Gabriel, staring at the fallen corpse of the nurdrakhaan. Its bulk hid most of the lawn behind it from them, the part that wasn’t embedded in what little remained of the cafeteria. “How about that. What do you suppose happened to it?”

“I think something it ate disagreed with it,” said Toby. For some reason, he was grinning widely.

“Killing me will change nothing!” the baerzurg raged. “More will come!”

“Hush,” Vadrieny ordered, planting a claw on his chest just below the mouth. He was lying spread-eagled on the grass, four small silver shield spells pinning each of his limbs to the ground. “Do you know who I am?”

“It doesn’t matter,” the demon spat. “We do not recognize your authority!”

“As far as you’re concerned, buttercup, her authority is absolute,” said Gabriel, leveling his wand at the creature’s face. He was feeling dizzy and spent, the modified berserking state having passed while they had been relatively still. As much of a relief as it was not to have that maddening pressure building up in him, he was left drained, which had never happened before. Not to mention that the ability to cast hellfire through his wand would have been very useful right about now. Still, he kept himself upright by necessity and force of will. “Now then, you are going to tell us how to cancel this invasion and send all your creepy buddies back where they came from.”

The baerzurg gnashed its jaws, but their position on its upper chest meant it couldn’t get them around anything. Even Vadrieny’s foot was out of his reach. “And if I do not?”

“That outcome will not occur,” Shaeine said placidly, folding her hands at her waist. “All that is yours to determine is what happens to you before you comply.”

Toby looked distinctly unhappy with the way this conversation was turning, but had the poise to keep silent about it. Fortunately he was standing out of the baerzurg’s limited range of view.

“Trissiny!” Fross shouted suddenly.

They turned to behold the paladin striding toward them with a relieved smile.

“Hey!” Toby said, his own expression changing to match hers. “Are you all right?”

“I’ll do,” she said, grinning. “Is everyone okay?”

“It’s really good to see you,” Gabriel said sincerely. She gave him a surprised look, then smiled again.

“We’re here too,” Finchley added from behind her.

“Uh, yeah,” said Ruda. “Why are you here?”

“Fuck if we know,” said Rook, jerking a thumb over his shoulder. “Ask the boss lady.”

The three of them parted to admit Professor Tellwyrn, who was staring at the students with a distinctly predatory glint in her eye.

“Ohhhh, crap,” Juniper whispered.

“Oh, you have no idea,” said Tellwyrn. “But we’ll deal with that later. Since you are here, we can see about closing that damned hole.”

“No!” the baerzurg squawked, struggling against his bonds. “That is our opportunity to—”

“Oh, shut up!” Tellwyrn snarled, pointing at it.

There came a sharp pop, and suddenly there was nothing held down by the tiny shields. A patch of bronze skin lay on the grass, with a spiraling streamer of bones, organs and muscle arching upward toward the roof of the half-collapsed cafeteria. It hung for a moment in the air, then collapsed, splattering a trail of black blood across the lawn.

“What the fuck,” Gabriel whispered. “Why do you even know a spell like that?” Finchley turned away, bending over and retching.

“That,” said Tellwyrn, “is what happens when you try to teleport this close to an active hellgate. Actually you normally have to be a lot closer, but this one is freshly opened and the whole area is dimensionally unstable. Don’t ever attempt it, for reasons you can see.”

“But we were gonna interrogate that guy!” Fross protested. “He was our leverage to get the rest of the demons to back down!”

“Oh?” Tellwyrn raised an eyebrow. “Hum. That’s not a bad plan, actually. Regardless, it is now superfluous, as I am here. I am going to show you the proper procedure for closing a hellgate.”

“If you could do that, why is all this even happening?” Ruda demanded. “You coulda just—”

“Because,” Tellwyrn said caustically, “when all this started I was operating under the assumption that I would have Imperial strike teams to perform the procedure from one end, not untried students for whose safety I am responsible. The Empire is not sending help, however, and you idiots are here, so we’re going to make the best we can of this. Provided you can follow simple directions, this is over.”

Suddenly, everything went still.

The droning of demon wings was silenced. The very movement of the wind over the mountain froze; the slowly rotating pattern of clouds above halted in place, the red flashes ceasing. A pale glow fell over the campus, rather like moonlight, casting everything in a silvery luminescence. After the sickly illumination of the hellgate, it was a refreshing sight.

“Seriously?” Tellwyrn exclaimed. “Now?”

Shadows gathered, the darkness of the night air itself seeming to take form and twist, as though momentarily opening onto a place where matter existed in more than three dimensions, and a figure stepped forth onto the lawn.

He towered high above, more than twenty feet tall, dressed in a sweeping black coat and battered, wide-brimmed hat. His narrow face was lined by a thin beard, and in his left hand he carried an enormous scythe.

For a moment, all was silent as the god stared down at them, and then he grinned.

“Arachne!” Vidius exclaimed with evident delight. “Always good to see you. I’m sorry I haven’t dropped by to look over your new place yet. You know how it is. Busy, busy.”

“Well, your timing is abysmal as usual,” she said, folding her arms. “I’m in the middle of redecorating.” Tellwyrn panned her gaze sourly around the ravaged campus. “…apparently.”

“Ah, yes, had a bit of a tiff here, haven’t we? Why don’t I help you straighten up a bit?”

And just like that, everything was fixed.

The cafeteria, astronomy tower and Helion Hall stood as untouched as they had that morning. Nothing was on fire anywhere; there was no sign of the dozens of smashed windows, uprooted bushes and other petty acts of vandalism inflicted by various demons over the course of the evening. Not a single corpse remained, from the enormous nurdrakhaan to the runtiest hiszilisk. It seemed there wasn’t a blade of grass out of place on the whole campus. It was a lovely late spring night, clear and with a faint, cool breeze.

Above, there were no swirling clouds, no eerie light of another world, no skin-crawling leakage of infernal energy. No sign the hellgate had ever existed.

“Holy fuck,” Ruda whispered.

Finchley whimpered.

“Yes, gods are amazingly useful on the very rare occasions when they decide to show up and damn well do something,” Tellwyrn said.

“Have a little respect!” Trissiny exclaimed shrilly. “You are in the presence of—”

“Ah, and you must be Ms. Avelea,” Vidius said, bending down and tipping his hat politely to her. “A pleasure. I appreciate the thought, but I really don’t need to be defended. It’s quite all right, Arachne and I go way back. I know very well she doesn’t mean any harm.”

“You know more than we do, then,” Juniper said.

“That’s rather the point of divinity, don’t you think?” The god of death smiled down at the dryad. “Or at least one of its biggest perks.”

“I know you didn’t come here just to be helpful,” Tellwyrn said. “What do you want, Vidius?”

“You really shouldn’t talk to him like that,” Moriarty muttered, looking ashen. Nobody paid him any heed.

“Well, you’re correct, Arachne,” Vidius said, his expression growing more serious. He straightened up and rested the butt of his scythe against the ground. “The hellgate and the events of today—both here and elsewhere—came as a surprise, even to us. Of course, that in and of itself is enough to indicate Elilial is on the move, and yet I have firm evidence that even she was taken aback by what happened here. Apparently there are other powers working behind the scenes, powers that support neither the Pantheon nor Hell. This is far from the first hint of such recently. A great doom is coming, and we must be prepared to meet it. To that end, I have been…studying something.”

“Something?” Tellwyrn asked dryly, raising an eyebrow.

“A possibility,” Vidius replied. “The prospect that I—that we—have been wrong. I don’t have to tell you that the world is changing rapidly, I’m sure. The gods are considering how we should and must adapt to the new realities. All but the most hidebound of us are deeply involved in this, but I, for my part, have been looking at…older errors. Things that have gone far too long uncorrected. Indeed, we have clung to ideas even when they seemed imperfect because so much depends upon our constancy. What hope can we offer the mortal world if we ourselves are always changing our minds? The sudden need for change, then, has provided an opportunity.”

The god smiled. “Gabriel, how are you?”

“Confused as hell,” Gabriel answered promptly.

Vidius laughed. “Get used to that, my young friend. Seriously, I’m not just joshing with you. Life is a confusing and constantly surprising muddle. It’s about when you decide you have everything figured out that you start to be consistently wrong. Knowing the truth of one’s own foolishness is the beginning of all wisdom.”

“Um… Okay,” Gabe said after a moment in which no one else spoke.

Vidius’s expression grew more solemn. “I cannot speak for any of my kin, Gabriel Arquin, but for my part, you have my apologies, inadequate as they are. The way you have been treated your entire life is frankly unjust; this treatment of all who share the blood of demonkind has, I now judge, been the cause of more harm than good in the world. I can only hope it is not too late to correct it.

“I have another purpose here, tonight: the gods need to be more in touch with the mortal world than we truly can be, now more than ever. My brethren have a number of means of keeping themselves grounded, so to speak… Means which have served them well but which I have never thought appropriate to my own designs. As the world changes, though, those designs change with it, and I find myself needing a representative. Someone resourceful and brave, who understands very well the principle of duality. After watching you for a time, I believe I’ve found my man.” He grinned again. “What say you, Arquin? Would you like to work with me?”

Gabriel gaped up at the god. “As…are you asking… You want me to be a…a…”

“For lack of a better term, a paladin, yes.” His smile widened. “The Hand of Vidius, the first of the line.”

There was total silence for a long moment, everyone gaping in shock at either Gabriel or Vidius. With the exception of Tellwyrn, who looked mildly intrigued.

“I can’t be a paladin!” Gabriel exclaimed at last. “I’m a demonblood! There’s no way for me to even touch divine magic, it would kill me!”

“The pool of energy you refer to as divine magic,” Vidius replied, “is the remains of the previous generation of gods, the Elders. As far as its inherent traits go, it is not normally accessible to mortals—with the exception of dwarves and some gnomes, due to a genetic quirk. Other races draw on the divine through the auspices of the gods, according to our own discretion—which, as you have had cause to observe, varies by deity. Themynra has fewer and entirely different rules than the Pantheon. Even Scyllith’s followers can wield the divine light, and in the same breath as they channel infernal power. The light of the Pantheon burns demonkind because we will it to be so.” He paused, then nodded slowly. “I now judge this to be in error. What I am asking, Gabriel, is that you help me prove it to my brethren. That means you will have my personal blessing and protection. Those who make the rules, in short, can make the exceptions.”

“But…why me?” Gabriel whispered. “I mean… If we’re going to be frank, here, I’m kind of a dumbass much of the time.”

“You do seem to have trouble listening,” Vidius agreed.

“Oh, you can’t begin to imagine,” Tellwyrn muttered.

“I was just saying,” the god continued, “that I consider the awareness of one’s own flaws to be a great asset; it’s something relatively few people your age possess. Yes, you have flaws aplenty, but you know it, and you know them. That sets you apart from the herd, Gabriel. As for the rest… I do have my reasons, and my plans. If you choose to accept, you will learn more with time. Be warned, though, that this is not a small thing I’m asking.” He nodded once to Toby, and then to Trissiny. “You are more personally acquainted with the realities of a paladin’s life than most, I think. Your path won’t be like theirs; I don’t plan to do everything the same as Omnu or Avei. It will involve great danger, however, and great sacrifice. Be sure.”

Gabriel lowered his eyes, staring aimlessly into the distance. Toby stepped forward, laying a gentle hand on his shoulder, and squeezed. Finally, Gabe raised his head.

“Well, what the hell, I wasn’t gonna have much of a lifespan anyhow. Might as well make a difference, right?”

“That’s the spirit,” said Vidius, grinning.

There was a flash in midair, a small fountain of sparks, and another scythe appeared, hovering in front of the god’s face. It was sized for human hands, and appeared very old and roughly-made, only its solid black haft distinguishing it visibly from any farmer’s implement. Slowly it descended through the air to hang in front of Gabriel.

“By this is our pact sealed,” said the god, solemn-faced now. “Take your weapon, Hand of Vidius, and with it, the first steps toward your destiny.”

Gabriel lifted one hand, hesitated for a moment, then squared his shoulders resolutely. He reached out and grasped the haft of the scythe.

The moment his fingers touched it, the weapon shrank, shifting form, and in the next moment Gabriel was left holding a long, black wand with an uneven shaft.

“We both have a lot to learn in the days and years to come,” said Vidius. “We’ll get started on that soon. For tonight, you have a victory to celebrate, and well-earned rest to acquire. I will leave you to that.”

The god tipped his hat again. “A pleasure to meet all of you. Gabe, Arachne, I’ll be in touch.”

He was gone with as little fanfare as he had come.

The wind whispered softly around them; even in the god’s absence, no one dared to so much as breathe. Gabriel was staring, wide-eyed, into space, apparently seeing nothing.

“Gabe?” Trissiny asked hesitantly.

He swallowed once, lifting his head, and turned to meet her eyes.

Slowly, almost hesitantly, he began to glow. Golden light blossomed around him until he was lit by a blazing corona of divine energy.

In the middle of it, tears began to slip down his cheeks.

Toby and Trissiny stepped forward in the same moment, each draping an arm around Gabriel’s shoulders.

“I don’t even know how to feel,” Gabe whispered.

“You have time to figure it out, brother,” Toby said, giving him a gentle shake. “And… Man, I am just so damn proud of you.”

“Yes,” Professor Tellwyrn intoned softly. “This is going to change absolutely everything. Not just for you, Gabriel; the repercussions of this will rock the world. You have time, indeed, though not much. Not as much as you’ll need, perhaps. We will work on it. You’ll have a great deal of help, and you will learn what you need to know, hopefully before it’s time for you to call on that knowledge. All that’s in the future, though. Right now, you need to focus on the present, because I AM PERSONALLY GOING TO ASS-KICK EVERY ONE OF YOU LITTLE BASTARDS DOWN THE MOUNTAIN AND BACK!”

The entire freshman class shied away from her, Fross darting behind Juniper.

Ruda cleared her throat. “The gods made us do it.”

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7 – 9

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“I had no idea this was here,” Rook said, keeping a hand on the wall as he crept along the narrow passage.

Tellwyrn half-turned her head to scowl at him, the orb of light hovering over her hand casting eerie shadows across her face. “That’s because you never needed to know. In fact, once all this nonsense is over with, you can forget you knew about it, understand? This is an emergency access.” She turned back to face forward, her continued grousing clearly audible. “If the students find out about this, it’ll be full of beer bottles and bodily fluids by the end of the week. What is it with kids and dark, private places… I should’ve just adopted fifty cats.”

Rook glanced back at his compatriots, none of whom offered a comment. Wisely, he didn’t either.

The tunnel couldn’t have been that long, but already their passage through the cellar of the Ale & Wenches seemed like it had occurred in another life. Down here there was nothing but bare granite walls. Though full of dust and cobwebs, the stone was glossy smooth and seamless, clearly having been bored out of the mountain with impossible precision, no doubt by some arcane craft of Tellwyrn’s. It had no lights of any kind save that which she had brought, and as she kept it at the head of the group, Finchley kept nervously speeding up to outpace the darkness behind him, earning irritated grumbles every time he bumped into Moriarty.

“Ah, here we are,” Tellwyrn said after a long, awkwardly silent hike.

“Finally,” Moriarty muttered.

The appearance of a circular chamber ahead took them by surprise; though their guide’s slim profile concealed little, the darkness and her control of the light source meant none of the three were really aware of their destination until the Professor was stepping out into it.

The chamber was round, gray, and otherwise exactly like the tunnel which led to it, carved from granite as smooth as glass, its surface gleaming in the glow of her light. It was dim even with the glowball present, just large enough to swallow its relatively feeble rays, but not so much that there were any areas left in blackness. That, plus the absence of any corners due to its round construction, made the place less spooky than the tunnel. All three stumbled into each other and nearly lost their footing in their haste to get inside.

Professor Tellwyrn gave them a disparaging look, then stepped onto the low platform in the center. “Well, come on. It’s chaos up there, if you hadn’t noticed. I haven’t time for your pratfalling.”

They crept obediently up the single step onto the small, circular dais. Apart from the open segment through which they stepped, it was encircled by a waist-high rail of tarnished brass, set about half a foot inward from the perimeter. The space was big enough to comfortably hold a person, and was quite snug with four.

“You’ll want to hang onto the rail,” Tellwyrn said, not making any move to do so herself. “Stay away from the open edge and don’t stick out your hands, or anything else you may need later.”

“What?” Rook grimaced at the dusty rail under his hands, shaking a spiderweb off his fingers. “What is this, a teleporter of some kind?”

“Teleportation isn’t safe near a hellgate,” Moriarty snapped. “Otherwise she could have just ported us all there from Calderaas.”

“So what’s the…” Finchley trailed off, having spied the circular hole in the ceiling, sized exactly the same as the dais. Beyond it was only blackness. “…oh, bugger.”

Tellwyrn grinned. “This comes out in the staff lounge, which has a sink. So if any of you are inclined toward motion sickness, I strongly suggest you hold it until we arrive.”

“If we were inclined toward motion sickness,” Rook retorted, “you’d have found out on the RAAAAIIIII—”

There was no preparation or warning of any kind. The stone platform just shot straight upward with a speed that nearly flung all of them to the floor. Except, of course, for Professor Tellwyrn, who folded her arms and balanced calmly in the gap at the front, watching smooth stone walls whiz past as they ascended.

“Been a while since I hung around with soldiers,” she murmured to herself. “Seems to involve a lot more screaming than I remember.”


 

“Are you sure you’re okay? How’s your head?”

“You didn’t hit my head, just winded me.”

“I’m really sorry about—”

“Fross,” Ruda said firmly, grinning up at her. “Just for future reference, if the options are between smacking me around a little and letting me get eaten and/or landed on by a giant fucking bird-eel-dragon thing from Hell, make with the smacking. I’m fine. Let’s focus on fixing this bullshit.”

“Okay,” the pixie agreed, bobbing down lower. “I’ll work on my fine control. I’m not used to levitating something person-sized with, y’know, precision.”

“Mm hm,” Ruda said absently, crouching behind a pile of rubble as a small group of hiszilisks buzzed past in the near distance.

The cafeteria was a shambles. In addition to the shattered windows along its front face, half the roof had been caved in by the nurdrakhaan’s impact. The wreckage provided a convenient path for them, though, between the dangerously exposed facade of Helion Hall and the now-smashed astronomy tower. Between heaps of fallen timber and brickwork, upset tables and chairs and the building’s remaining walls and support pillars, there was plenty of cover for them to creep through. Best of all, the hiszilisks didn’t seem interested in poking around through it, perhaps due to its wrecked state.

“Are we wasting our time?” Fross asked in a hushed tone. “Surely they’re not still planning to meet at the tower. It’s smashed.”

“It was the last plan we had,” Ruda replied just as quietly, peeking out to keep an eye on the demons outside. “Most of it was knocked over the side of the mountain, so the lobby area seems to still be there. And I don’t see any of the others. I’m hoping none of ’em are dumb enough to just mill around out there and get picked off; if we remembered to meet up at the tower, maybe the others will, too.”

“I guess,” Fross said doubtfully. “But we may have to go out looking for them.”

“We’ll check the tower, and if that doesn’t work out, it’s a relatively sheltered place to make a new plan.”

They crept forward through the jumble of broken furniture, keeping a wary eye on the open front of the building. The buzzing of giant wasp wings filled the air, punctuated by bone-shivering hisses from the nurdrakhaan, but there were no voices from their classmates. Also no screams, which was some comfort at least. Ruda moved in short bursts, from one piece of cover to the next, pausing to gauge the situation at each spot. Fross simply stayed low to the ground.

Then something landed right outside.

Both of them instinctively ducked behind an upturned table, then very carefully peeked back out. They were a good ten yards distant, almost half the width of the building, and it was facing away, but the newness of it compelled caution. Humanoid, it was lean and oddly misshapen, as though its lumpy black skin was pulled too tight in places, twisting it off center.

“Uh oh,” Fross whispered, “it’s not just hiszilisks now; they’re bringing in real forces from across the portal. That’s a hthrynxkh.”

“It’s a fuckin’ what?” Ruda spat. “Naphthene’s tits, what is with these freaks and their names? Does Elilial spend her free time sitting around making up impossible new consonants?”

“Colloquially called a shadowlord,” Fross recited. “Sentient demon, high-caste. Non-caster, but possessing limited inherent camouflage and short-range shadow-jumping abilities. Very durable skin, but not magically resistant like a hethelax, it’s all armor. Stronger than they look, but less agile.”

A second hthrynxkh dropped to the ground next to the first, holding a sword that seemed to be made of something’s jawbone. They conferred momentarily in their harsh language, then the first darted off across the lawn, while the second let out a piercing whistle.

A dozen hiszilisks assembled in front of the shadowlord, which began speaking to them. It sounded angry, but that might have just been the effect of its harsh voice and guttural language.

“Round the back?” Ruda suggested very quietly.

“Round the back,” Fross agreed.

They retreated toward the opposite end of the cafeteria. The windows there looked out over the Golden Sea; one had been shattered by the damage that had wracked the building, but the rest had held, having been enchanted to be far more durable than simple glass. Wind whistled through the opening; directly overhead, hidden by what remained of the roof, the nurdrakhaan hissed again.

They ducked around behind the serving counter into the hallway which ran adjacent to the kitchen, immediately picking up speed now that they were out of sight of the open front of the building. Just as quickly, however, they slowed, coming to a complete stop a few yards from the door that led to a small, walled garden area between the cafeteria and the classroom at the base of the astronomy tower.

“Was that left open before?” Fross asked quietly.

Ruda shrugged, creeping silently forward. The door opened outward; she pressed herself against its frame and leaned gingerly out just enough to peek around the edge.

Another hthrynxkh stood with its back to them, not more than ten feet distant, gesticulating and barking orders at several hiszilisks. At each motion of its arm, one of the flying demons buzzed off, but there were still half a dozen present.

“Fuck,” Ruda muttered, pressing her back against the wall inside the hallway.

“Okay,” Fross said quietly, “that’s out.”

“Hm… You said camouflage and shadow-jumping. How far can they jump?”

“Only a few feet, it’s more for combat maneuvering than travel. Limited, like I said.” The pixie fluttered back down the hall. “Speaking of camouflage, I have a stealth spell. Not true invisibility, is the problem; I don’t think it’ll work here. We’d have to get too close to him to sneak by. Should work on the other side, though, there’s more room to maneuver out there. If we head back to Helion Hall we can go in and look for…I dunno, something. Tellwyrn’s office is in there, she’s bound to have—”

“Hey, asshole!”

Fross chimed in alarm, buzzing back toward the door, through which Ruda had just stepped, drawing her rapier. She came to a stop right before the opening, muttering to herself.

“That surprised me. Why did that surprise me? I’m supposed to be the fast learner here…”


 

Hiszilisks scattered at her passing, but Vadrieny didn’t pause to deal with them. She flitted to the broken-off second floor of the erstwhile astronomy tower, then from there to the spires atop Helion Hall, then to a precarious perch in a swaying elm tree, pausing at each spot to peer around desperately. There was a brief golden flash that suggested Toby or Trissiny in the corner of her vision, but it was gone when she turned to look for it again. Nothing but buzzing demons and the hissing of the nurdrakhaan.

Nowhere a glimpse of silver.

Frantically she took wing again, swatting a particularly slow hiszilisk out of the way, and cut a wide arc over the descending terraces of the campus. Everywhere demons. Not a sign of her classmates. Not a hint of the silver glow of Themynra.

A low groan rose involuntarily in her throat, emerging as a thin keening.

She’s fine, she’ll be fine, Teal said anxiously within her, failing to convince either of them. She’s smart, she’ll get to shelter. There are all kinds of buildings. She knows the campus.

Vadrieny landed too hard on the battlements of Ronald Hall, causing the partial collapse of a stretch of crenelated stone that would have sent Tellwyrn into a towering rage in any other circumstances and would likely pass unnoticed now. The hiszilisks were gleefully causing havoc wherever they landed; they weren’t strong enough to do much to the stone buildings of the campus, but Vadrieny could see small fires in a dozen places, to say nothing of smashed windows and fairy lamps. And that wasn’t even touching the damage to the cafeteria and astronomy tower.

Then her attention was caught by the arrival of more demons.

They were lean black figures whose shapes she recognized immediately. Shadowlords; used by Elilial’s forces as shock troops, but likely to be operating more as guerillas, considering the origin of this particular demon army. At least a score of them were descending onto the campus from the hellgate, each carried downward by two hiszilisks, with more steadily appearing. Several had already landed by the time she noticed them, and were clearly giving directions to the smaller flying demons.

Vadrieny sank her talons into the stone.

“We have to fight.”

Vadrieny…

“Teal,” she said in anguish, “she’s out there. Maybe alone, maybe hurt. These will be setting out to search the campus; they’ll find her. They’ll find her faster than we can, due to sheer numbers.”

Teal was silent inside, radiating terror for Shaeine, and beneath that, deep reluctance at what her other half was suggesting.

“We can’t negotiate with these,” Vadrieny insisted. “Demons only understand force. But they’re bringing in those of higher rank now. If we make our point to them, they may call a retreat.”

We can’t. Please…

“I know,” Vadrieny whispered. “Love, I know. But… She’s out there.”

There was a heartbeat of abject stillness within, then a rush of pure sorrow.

I understand.

The archdemon drew in a breath and let it out slowly through her fangs. “Go deeper inside, Teal. You don’t want to see this.”

No. I’m as responsible as you. I won’t hide.

She found nothing to say, simply sent her a rush of love, which was returned in kind. Both were spiked with fear and remorse.

Then Vadrieny, the last princess of Hell, flared her wings and let out a scream that shattered windows remaining all over the campus.

She launched herself forward, zooming straight at a cluster of four hthrynxkhs, surrounded by a buzzing throng of hiszilisks. Before they could react she had seized the closest in both hands, talons sinking deep into its armored flesh, lifted it up, and tore the creature in half, flinging its pieces away.

Two shadow-jumped a few feet back from her, raising weapons; the third actually dropped its obsidian knife, raising both hands.

“Wait! I surr—”

A swipe of her claws ripped its head clean off, sending the remainder of its body tumbling end-over end across the lawn.

The surrounding hiszilisks shot away in all directions, desperately putting space between themselves and the raging archdemon.

The last two shadowlords were still shadow-jumping in retreat, but they could go only so far at a time. It was only seconds before Vadrieny got her claws on one, sinking them deep into its ribs and dragging it closer.

“You don’t surrender!” she screamed directly into the flailing demon’s face. “This is my world! You leave, OR YOU DIE!”

She tossed it straight up into the air, seized it by one of its ankles, and set about swatting hiszilisks out of the sky with the still-shrieking hthrynxkh. Only for a few moments, though; the hiszilisks were a mere distraction. Spotting another shadowlord, Vadrieny dived at it talons-first, screaming a challenge.

Deep inside her, Teal watched it all in silence.


 

The nurdrakhaan hissed its displeasure, trying to flick her off with its fin, which didn’t quite reach. Trissiny, gritting her teeth, braced one booted foot into the corner of its jaw, where the edges of its beak didn’t quite close, gripped her sword firmly with her right hand, and with her left, punched it hard in its lowest eye.

The beast hissed like never before, thrashing up and down in midair. For a moment she thought she was about to be shaken loose, but her sword held in the groove in its facial armor left by one of Vadrieny’s claws, and she actually managed to wrap the fingers of her other hand around the lower edge of its eye socket.

That, needless to say, made it even madder.

Bucking up and down, and then from side to side, it failed to dislodge her, though in those tense moments the simple act of hanging on consumed the entirety of Trissiny’s attention.

She was beginning to have second thoughts about this idea.

Failing to remove the pest that way, the nurdrakhaan changed tactics. Its flight leveled out; the smoother motion gave her a much needed moment to gather her bearings. She lifted her head, chancing a peek forward at its course, discovering at the last possible second that they were diving straight toward a very familiar sight.

Trissiny wreathed herself in a golden shield, pouring every iota of power she could summon into it; the sphere cut right into the armored face of the nudrakhaan, prompting an enraged hiss, but did not dissuade it in the slightest. She ducked her face against its steaming carapace, tightening her grip as best she could, and shielded so fervently she could feel the beginnings of heat in every nerve, as the monster smashed face-first into the stone bridge connecting the campus to Clarke Tower.

It was a split-second’s utter chaos; the impact jarred her, both physically and in the auric senses connecting her to the golden shield. For a moment, she couldn’t even be sure which way was up.

A moment later, she opened her eyes to discover that “up” was precisely where they were going. The bridge plummeted in fragments toward the plain below, the tower spinning slowly as it drifted off into space. Then she could spare no more attention for the wreckage that had been her home for most of the year.

Her sword had worked itself loose in the impact; both her boots had been knocked free. She clung to the nurdrakhaan’s eye socket with the fingers of her left hand, flailing with both feet to regain purchase as it arced around upward, ascending straight toward the hellgate.

Going through that, she reflected, would be less than ideal.

Before she could get a firm grip, however, the nurdrakhaan shook itself again, more violently this time, and suddenly she was gripping nothing. Trissiny tumbled head-over-boots through the sky, hurled almost straight upward, the slight arch of her flight probably not even enough to send her off the mountain.

Or such was the best she could figure; no amount of martial training had prepared her to keep her wits under conditions like these.

Light flared as her shield snapped reflexively back into place; golden wings stretched outward behind her, stabilizing her descent.

She had barely a second to realize she was plummeting straight toward the open maw of the nurdrakhaan, rushing up to meet her.

Trissiny kicked backward, adjusting her body at the last possible second to be sure to meet it sword-first.


 

“No!” Toby shouted impotently as the glowing light of his fellow paladin winked out above the monster’s head.

“Hrrash k’vankhthrazk! Hkhaasha vnarr!”

He whirled at the voice, finding himself being approached by three shadowlords, the nearest leveling a spear at his heart. It had an obsidian head, the haft made from what was unmistakably something’s leg bone, despite being black. The creature holding it looked twisted, misshapen, its scaly hide worked into uneven ridges and lumps as if it didn’t fit properly over its lopsided frame.

“No,” he whispered again.

Black, leathery lips drew back over yellowed fangs in a mocking grin, and it drew back its spear to strike.

Toby’s eyes narrowed to slits, and he bared his own teeth.

“No.”

The spear plunged forward. He caught it just behind the head, spinning, and yanked the demon forward into its own thrust. As it staggered past, he stepped neatly out of its path, wrenching the weapon from its grasp, and thrust the butt of the spear between its legs, twisting and sending it tumbling to the ground.

The two behind it charged him.

Toby flared alight with golden power, causing both demons to hiss and stumble, closing their eyes against the glare. The Sun Style didn’t favor offensive strikes, but it was the work of seconds to sweep the legs out from under one and tip the other over backward.

All this had drawn extra attention, however. The first hthrynxkh had regained its feet and was circling him warily; two more, armed with weapons of obsidian and bone, were dashing toward him. Worse, a sizable swarm of hiszilisks was assembling. They seemed to be holding off for the moment, perhaps to give the shadowlords their prerogative to strike first.

“This is not your world,” he said, hearing the snarl in his own voice and not hating it as much as he should. “This realm belongs to the gods. I will not have this…this barbarism.”

The nearest hthrynxkh snarled and lunged; Toby jabbed it straight between the eyes with the butt of the spear, knocking it to the ground, senseless. It was the most brutal strike he had ever performed against a living being.

“I will not have you here!” he roared, twirling the spear overhead and slamming it point-first into the ground in front of him. The light rose in his aura, first blinding the nearby demons, then pushing them physically back while they shrieked in protest, some beginning to smoke.

“I. Will have! PEACE!”

It was as if the sun rose where he stood.

Golden light burned with such an intensity that even he couldn’t see. Demons screamed, steamed and tumbled backward, but couldn’t move fast enough to escape; there was no outrunning light. It rose all around, flaring outward with kinetic force the blasted the grass flat in all directions.

Toby could feel the burning at the edge of his consciousness, knew what it heralded, and didn’t care.

But before it could grow worse, the light just as suddenly winked out.

It seemed he should have been blinded by it, but he stood, not even blinking, in a clear space in front of the smashed cafeteria. A few shards of obsidian lay on the ground nearby, even the bone and sinew to which they had been attached gone now; it had been demonic in origin, too. The shadowlords and hiszilisks were gone; even the corpses piled up from the party’s earlier confrontation had vanished. There was only ash, dancing on the wind.


 

Gabriel’s attempts to climb back onto the uppermost terrace had only attracted more hiszilisks to him. His wand had kept them at bay for a while, but he hadn’t found where the other one had fallen when he’d been thrown by the nurdrakhaan’s impact, and now he wasn’t even sure where he was. The demons had quickly figured out that he could only shoot at one of them at a time, and it was easy enough to get behind someone who had no one left to watch his back. He found it very difficult to navigate with three wolf-sized demons actually climbing on him.

He flailed, staggered, managed to shoot himself in the shoulder in his efforts to get them off, and succeeded in dislodging one. Mostly by pure luck, he shot another dead as it attempted to zoom in to fill the recently opened space. Past the jumble of legs and wings clinging to him, he spied a tree, and lurched toward it.

Spiny legs pinned his left arm to his size and mandibles pinched at him in two places, but for all their tenacity, these creatures didn’t have the magic it would take to actually pierce his skin. That magic would have killed them even faster than it would him. He wasn’t as utterly screwed in this situation as most of his friends would have been, but he was still not in control.

He managed to reach the small copse of trees, one of which had been uprooted and knocked over somehow, and turned, slamming his back against the trunk of an oak. The hiszilisk clinging to him from behind screamed in protest. Gabriel stepped forward and bashed it again, and then a third time, until it finally let go.

He managed to turn, aim, and shoot it through the chest before it could get up.

Then the one climbing on him on the front bit him right on the crotch.

Howling in outrage, Gabriel leveled his wand at it, then thought twice.

In that moment of hesitation, its tail lashed forward, the stinger driving right into his eye.

Even his soft tissue wasn’t vulnerable to physical damage, but it definitely wasn’t impervious to pain. That was the last straw.

The roar that tore itself from his throat was no longer human. He whirled, flailing furiously and peppering the entire area with wandshots. Beams of light arced out in all directions, actually driving back the swarm. Eyes totally black, roaring and snarling, Gabriel quite by chance laid his free hand on the hilt of the sword hanging at his waist. Purely on instinct, he ripped it free of its sheath and hacked at the creature clinging to him.

He had it off in seconds, but didn’t stop there. While the hiszilisks twitched and squealed, he pummeled it artlessly with both the sword and his wand, which was still spewing wild bolts of power. He slashed, bludgeoned and blasted for nearly a minute until he was assaulting little more than a black smear and scattered chunks of smoldering meat, before finally pausing to look around.

At some point, the remaining hiszilisks had decided to seek less deranged prey. He was alone.

The half-demon planted one foot on the fallen tree, brandished both weapons in the air, and let out a wordless roar of triumph.

“All right, that is enough of that.”

Suddenly, impossibly, the sword twisted in his grip, its blade flaring bright white. It plunged straight downward, stabbing through his foot and pinning him to the tree.

He was too shocked even to scream.

“You are completely out of control, boy, and your allies are scattered to the wind. I’d be content to leave you to your fate, but I will not be carted back to Hell as some kind of trophy. Centuries down in that wretched hole were bad enough. So against my better judgment, I am going to help you, hellblood. Now, let’s see what we have to work with.”

Gabriel clutched the sword’s handle, frantically trying to pull it out of his foot, grunting and snarling with each jerk. He might as well have been trying to pick himself up by the hair for all the progress he made. All the while, and though his berserking mind made little sense of it, the voice carried on in his ears.

“Ah, an enchanter. Not a good one, but it’s something. A cleric would be better, though obviously that’s not possible for you… An arcanist can’t do much with infernal magic, but the infernal can take power from the arcane. Hm, you can’t actually use that power, though, can you? Ah, part hethelax, I see. Well, perhaps there’s a workaround we can use.”

Desperately, he fired a furious salvo of wandshots at the sword, succeeding in drilling holds in the log, blasting his own shoe to fragments and not so much as singeing the leather wrapping its hilt.

“We can’t use your aura to power your spells, but vice versa? Ah, yes, the problem is you lack cognitive control over your infernal nature. It comes out as this…imbecilic carrying on you’re doing right now. Shuts off the brain completely. This you can’t do anything about, it’s a venting mechanism; if we blocked it you’d be overwhelmed by your own aura and likely combust or something. But we can change the way it vents. Ah, yes, I see how it can be done. I’m using your own skills, of course; I’m no arcanist. You could have figured this out yourself if you weren’t so afraid of your own nature. But perhaps that’s wise of you. Oh, stop that,” the voice added in disgust as he leaned forward and gnawed on the sword’s handle. “You’re like a dog, even more than most humans. Right, I’m going to use your own stored arcane energy to effect a small change in the connection between your aura and genetic code. This is the most fundamental essence of your self we’re playing with, here, so I imagine this will hurt quite a lot.”

In the next second, he completely forgot about the sword pinning his foot.

Pain subsumed every inch of Gabriel’s body, and then clawed its way into his mind, and into something which lay beyond that, beyond what he could have found words for even had he been capable of words at that moment.

He arched his back, thrashing and heaving helplessly with the throes of agony, howling at the sky. His whole body twisted, tensing and twitching against itself in existential protest. His eyes, black and fathomless, bulged so wide they seemed on the verge of popping out entirely.

And then, for just a moment, they flared orange.

Fire raged across his vision, then just as quickly subsided, and Gabriel straightened up, blinking.

Confused, he looked around, taking stock. His clothes were ripped in dozens of places and his left shoe was a ragged, scorched mess about to fall off. Only the enchanted green coat Tellwyrn had given him seemed to have survived undamaged. But…survived what?

The memory wasn’t there. He’d been swamped by demons… Which were now gone. He still had the wand in his right hand, and the black sword in his left. There was the faint memory of a voice talking to him from a great distance, but it flittered away like a barely-remembered dream when he tried to focus on it.

He swiveled in place, staring around. Demons were everywhere, gleefully wrecking the campus. Neither that nor his confusion over what had transpired in the last few minutes could hold his attention, however; he could feel pressure building up inside himself, as if something in his core was burning, growing hotter and causing him to expand beyond the volume he could safely hold. Flames licked at the edges of his vision.

Suddenly, understanding clicked into place. He took aim with the wand, and a beam of pure orange fire, pencil thin and intense enough to melt stone, blazed out. Deftly, he cut a rapid zig-zagging pattern through an approaching cluster of hiszilisks, and a second later, they were tumbling to the earth in scorched pieces.

Gabriel lowered his wand, awed. He understood. It was the berserking, the defense mechanism that hethelaxi had evolved against infernal corruption, channeling the hellfire in his blood in a way that didn’t drive him mad or destroy his body. Except it was channeled further now, somehow reaching through the pathways he used to access arcane magic. It still raged in him; it still demanded an outlet. He had to spend this power or it would overwhelm him again, taking away his ability to think. But he could spend it now.

Had he done this on instinct, somehow? He would never have voluntarily gone messing around with his own nature that way. Any enchanter knew better than to try to enchant himself; in the history of magic, that had led to a handful of towering successes and thousands of horrific tragedies.

Whatever the reason, it was done, and he hadn’t the luxury of standing around in introspection. Hellfire raged in him, demanding an outlet.

Gabriel stalked forward, channeling his inner fire through the black enchanter wand and laying waste to any hiszilisks which buzzed too close to him. He could control it far more finely than the wand’s native power, creating walls and spirals of fire, even directing fireballs that chased after their targets. All the while, he peered around, taking stock, his thoughts driven forward with the same frantic energy that fueled his magic.

The nurdrakhaan was hissing and flailing about high above; he dismissed that for the moment as it didn’t seem interested in him. He couldn’t see any of his friends… This was a disaster. None of them could last long alone.

Then a screaming streak of fire flashed past overhead. Gabriel stopped, his eyes tracking her path. She dived down onto a fleeing shadowlord and in seconds was airborne again, leaving her prey in pieces partially ground into the dirt. He could see evidence of several such attacks in the near distance.

Vadrieny soared back out overhead, and he calmly leveled his wand, directing a bolt of power straight into her path.

The fireball exploded on impact, sending the archdemon tumbling skyward. She recovered her balance in midair, screaming in fury, and dived straight down at him.

At the last second she adjusted her flight so as not to hit directly, landing hard enough to crack the pavement before him.

“Have you lost your mind?!” Vadrieny howled into his face.

“HAVE YOU LOST YOURS?!” he roared right back at her. The archdemon actually reared back, momentarily shocked into silence. Gabriel didn’t give her a moment to recover. “You’re flailing around killing them one by one! What do you think that’s going to accomplish? There are hundreds, and more keep coming! We have to assemble our friends before they’re picked off!”

“I am trying to keep them safe!” she shot back. “We have to drive the demons back—”

“You aren’t driving anything anywhere! Stop for a moment and think. They started with shock troops, then sent more dangerous ones. Eventually someone important will come through. We need to get him when he lands, and not just kill him but control him, and for that we need the group back together!”

“I can’t find them!”

“Then let them find us!” He thrust his wand skyward, letting loose a geyser of pure hellfire, venting off the pressure had had been building up during the conversation. Vadrieny took a step back, looking warily up at the gout of molten energy. “You’re a living fireball; the others can see you clearly. They’d have grouped up on you already if you would quit flying around! Get back aloft and stay in a holding pattern above me while I make my way back to the cafeteria lawn. Watch for Toby, Trissiny and Shaeine; you’ll see their magic as easily as they’ll see ours. We’ll gather whoever’s there to meet us and then find the rest, and then we will deal with the asshole behind this bullshit when he shows his face.”

Vadrieny blinked her glowing eyes. “That’s…actually a really good—”

“Go!” he bellowed, pointing skyward again. To the surprise of both of them, she did, shooting upward and settling into a glide above him, circling like a vulture while he stalked up the stairs to the next terrace, lashing out with his wand at any hiszilisk that came near.

They reached the lawn just in time to be momentarily blinded by an impossible corona of golden light. Gabriel paused, shielding his eyes until it subsided, then blinked at the lone figure standing in front of the wrecked cafeteria amid a swirl of ash.

“All right,” he said to himself with a grin. “That’s two.”

He set off toward Toby with long strides, wand at the ready and Ariel still hanging from his hand, forgotten.

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7 – 7

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It was only seconds before a group of a dozen or so buzzing demons peeled off from the swarm, diving directly toward the freshmen.

Trissiny spoke rapidly. “Hiszilisks have a compound hive mind. The whole swarm doesn’t act as one, but smaller groups can. Keep your mind on the group, and don’t let yourself focus on an individual. They’ll try to make you do that, bait you into being distracted so the others can get you from behind.”

“Right,” said Fross. “Goddamn demons. Got it.”

“Practice situational awareness, stay in circle formation and don’t let them flank us or get behind anybody,” Trissiny said tensely. “Here they come.”

The group of demons had descended close enough to be much more than specks now; still somewhat vague with distance, it was apparent that Vadrieny’s earlier description had been accurate. The hiszilisks flew on thrumming, wasp-like wings and had stubby tails tipped in hooked stingers. They possessed only four limbs, though, which despite being proportioned somewhat like an insect’s ended in lizard-like claws. Their faces, topped with antennae, were oddly humanoid, notwithstanding the addition of huge compound eyes and snapping mandibles extending from their jaws to cover their mouths.

As they descended the shrill whine of their wings was augmented by a raspy screeching from their open mouths. The group approached at a steep angle that would have overshot their target, except that they abruptly dived with uncanny synchronization, plummeting almost straight downward.

They ran straight through a sudden puff of icy mist; their orderly dive-bombing was transformed into an ungainly tumble as wings froze over. The entire flock smacked into a silver shield that slammed into place above the group, keening and chittering unintelligibly. It clearly burned them on contact; they thrashed in pain, only about half their number managing to get back aloft, the others twitching and smoking against the shield. None of them got far. A second barrier rose above the silver one, this one golden and completely diffuse, more a mist than a wall. It rose upward, catching the demons as they tried to escape and causing them to burst actively into flame. All but one finally fell, plummeting down to land with their smoldering cousins against the barrier.

The survivor, the largest of the group, retreated upward a few yards, screaming furiously down at them.

The golden glow vanished, and directly below him, a circular hole appeared in the silver shield.

The hiszilisk screamed and dived straight at it, trailing soot. It plowed right into a bolt of lightning from Gabriel’s wand. Sparking, smoking, and now tumbling aimlessly, the creature hit the ground in the middle of their circle and lay there, legs twitching and charred wings still trying to buzz. It lurched to one side, snapping its mandibles at Teal’s leg.

Trissiny planted a boot in its neck, holding it down, and Ruda impaled the demon through the center of its body with her rapier. Finally, its struggles ceased.

The hole in the shield closed, and the entire thing tilted sideways, sloughing off the pile of burning demons, before finally winking out. They fell to lie in a smoking heap on the grass beside the students, not a one so much as twitching. Juniper grabbed the last one by its stinger and casually heaved it over to join them; she overshot the mark, sending the corpse spinning off to impact one of the columns in front of the cafeteria.

“And that is how it’s done,” Trissiny said with grim satisfaction.

“Let’s save some of the fun for those of us with swords, yeah?” Ruda said, grinning. “I don’t think that last one counted as a kill.”

“I suspect you will have plenty of opportunity,” Shaeine said.

“I feel kinda bad saying it, since I didn’t really help that time,” Juniper said with a huge beaming smile, “but we’re kinda awesome, aren’t we?”

“Nobody get cocky,” Toby warned. “Never around demons, that’s how they get you. Stay sharp, we seem to have drawn some attention to ourselves.”

The swarm was diverging, various groups descending gradually toward different parts of the campus, others continuing to circle above as if looking for something. None of them appeared to be in any great hurry—except for those which had clearly spied the students. As they watched, two smaller swarms honed in on them, one swinging out wide from across the campus and coming at a nearly horizontal angle, a second heading almost straight downward at them over the portal.

“Gabriel, Fross, Toby,” Trissiny pointed with her sword at the hiszilisks coming from the side, “soften those up before they reach us. Toby, make a shield if any get to melee range. Shaeine, hit that group above. Don’t just block them, smack them. Try to get them dazed and out of the air.”

Nobody offered any argument or discussion, but moved swiftly to obey, changing positions around the group to have the line of sight they needed. In the next second, Gabriel was blasting lightning bolts and cleaner beams of white light into the oncoming demons, augmented by more lightning expelled by Fross. Toby held himself at the ready, waiting until they came close enough for him to control a light shield effectively. Shaeine, with Teal holding her shoulders gently, executed her command perfectly. A silver shield raced upward, impacting the swarm as it dived at them; the force with which they hit apparently stunned the entire group, actually sending several tumbling straight upward from the blow. The entire cluster fell in all directions, smoking and flailing. The silver shield remained mobile, lashing back and forth to slap any which looked to be regaining their wings.

“Excellent!” Trissiny said firmly. “All right, any who make it to the ground will regroup to come at us as one unit; let them, it’s a lot easier to hit them while they’re massed than with them flying around everywhere.”

In fact, none of the first group survived; Gabriel and Fross had so decimated them that buzzing into Toby’s golden shield destroyed the only three which had survived to that point. True to Trissiny’s prediction, however, the demons that plummeted to the ground held off, reorganizing themselves in front of the observatory tower rather than charging directly.

“How’s everyone doing on energy?” Trissiny asked, facing the assembling hiszilisks but keeping her eyes moving in case more groups honed in on them.

“I am not tired.”

“So far, so good!”

“I’m okay!”

“All right,” the paladin said. “Toby, give us a thin, diffuse shield to soften ’em up as they charge. Ruda, Juniper, to the front with me, we’ll take these and give our casters a break. Gabe, behind us, shoot down any that try to flank. Here we go!”

It went beautifully, the demons buzzing obligingly into the golden glow Toby threw up in their path. Screaming, they tumbled into the ground, their forward momentum keeping them rolling right to the foot of the freshman formation. Juniper kicked the first to arrive, hard enough that it flew back over the heads of its compatriots in three pieces. The next managed to recover themselves enough to actually attack, but one paused to scream menacingly at them and received a rapier thrust directly in its open mouth. The third hit Trissiny’s shield; she pushed it back and lopped off its head before it could regain its balance. Two survivors did indeed attempt to circle around them, one falling to Gabriel’s wand. Fross froze the second, which had successfully used the students for cover to avoid his fire. Ruda stepped forward and neatly flicked the tip of her blade through its throat before it could get its wings working properly again.

“Fish in a barrel,” she said, grinning.

“Does anyone actually do that?” Gabriel asked. “Shoot fish in a barrel?”

She blinked at him. “…huh. Now that you ask, I can’t figure a reason why somebody would.”

“Focus!” Trissiny said sharply. “More incoming. General formation, defensive stances. Shaeine, make us a choke point. Ruda, up here with me. June, I need you to support Shaeine. Boost her energy if she tires, like you practiced.”

A silver dome appeared above them, but with a wedge-shaped section missing, like a cake with a slice cut out. Trissiny and Ruda stepped up into the breach, Fross hovering above their heads.

At least five separate groups of hiszilisks had come swarming down on them, buzzing furiously around the shield where there wasn’t room to attack the opening. And attack they did, so furiously that the press of bodies deprived the rest of space to push through.

Trissiny wedged herself forward into the gap, glowing furiously and laying about with her blade and shield equally. Ruda held position just behind, her nimble rapier lashing to to stab any attackers who made it past the paladin. Fross unleashed blasts of ice, lighting and explosive blue orbs of pure arcane energy, blowing back demons and felling them in considerable numbers.

Not considerable enough. As the pitched battle dragged on, more and more hiszilisks zeroed in on them, pressing at the barrier. Toby was spinning in a slow circle, having cast a wall of diffuse golden light that he dragged around and around outside Shaeine’s bubble, mowing down the demons that clawed at it from all sides. They burned, screamed and faltered as the orbiting cloud washed over them, some perishing beneath it, but more always came. Sparks began to fly from the impacts of claws and stingers on all sides of the shield; Shaeine was gritting her teeth in concentration, her expression very nearly one of pain. Juniper had shouldered Teal aside and wrapped her arms around the drow’s shoulders from behind, holding onto her; there was no visible exchange of magic, but Shaeine was nonetheless holding up the shield under enormous pressure, far better than she’d ever managed before.

“This can’t last,” Gabriel shouted. He held both wands at the ready, but had no avenue of attack except through Ruda and Trissiny. “If Shaeine wears herself out, we’re screwed!”

“Step back,” Teal ordered, moving into the center of the circle; he obeyed, crossing to the wall opposite Trissiny’s glow.

There was barely space within for Vadrieny’s wings, but she flared them outward nonetheless, grazing the silver shield on two sides. It seemed there was a momentary lull in the hiszilisks’ attack at the archdemon’s appearance. Then she threw back her head, flexed her claws outward, and screamed, and all doubt was removed.

The enormous swarm broke, buzzing away in all directions a lot faster than they had arrived. In seconds, the students were left surrounded by smoking corpses, piled into a chest-high drift in front of the opening and littering the grass on all sides.

Finally the bubble collapsed and Shaeine slumped backward against Juniper.

“I’ve got her,” the dryad said as Vadrieny jerked compulsively toward her. “Don’t touch, you’ll lose form if you grab me.”

“I thought these demons weren’t in Elilial’s pocket?” Gabriel said, still scanning the skies. For the moment, the swarm seemed unwilling to approach them again. “Wasn’t that the whole problem here? How come they listen to Vadrieny now?”

“Coyotes don’t answer to the bear, either,” said Trissiny. “Doesn’t mean they want to try charging it. Shaeine, are you all right?”

“Tired,” the drow said, gently pulling herself upright and out of Juniper’s grasp. “Not burning yet, but I cannot do that again tonight. I suggest we find some physical cover before engaging again.”

“What’s our endgame here, Trissiny?” Toby asked. “They just keep coming. Even if we get set up to survive a long siege like that one, what good does that do? No telling how many of these have already headed out to who knows where.”

“Which is why we can’t rely on Vadrieny except in a crisis like that; scattering them is a long-term defeat. For now, we trust that the gods have a plan,” Trissiny said firmly. “And that is not a religious platitude; this is all on their orders and we don’t have a better option right now. The astronomy tower can be entered from above, but its lobby will have only two access points, the front door and the stairwell. Shaeine, if we hole up in there, can you block off the stairs so we can defend the door?”

“That will be much less exhausting, yes.”

“All right, let’s move—”

The sound that emerged from the portal wasn’t quite a roar. It was like a breath, almost like a whisper—except, like a roar, it was powerful enough to shake the ground and the very air around them. It almost wasn’t a sound; there was something more to it, as if it was resonating across more than physical space. As one, the students looked up at the portal, just in time to see what began to emerge.

“What is that?” Ruda whispered, too stunned even to curse.

“That,” Trissiny said flatly, “is a good reason to keep two paladins and their allies on site.”


 

The enchantments powering the vehicle were designed for pulling entire caravans, not propelling a single car under full thrust. It screamed along the Rail line at a speed that could only charitably be called “unsafe.” The Rail glowed a furious blue beneath it, and where it passed there were not only sparks but flashes of lightning. As the car rounded the final long curve approaching Last Rock, its emergency inhibitor charms activated, causing the Rail to gleam nearly white with the volume of arcane power being used. Sparks flew in a wide fan to its right, and the car actually began twisting slightly off-center.

With a brilliant flash and a bang that echoed across the plains like rolling thunder, the lead car finally tore loose from the enchantments binding it to the Rail. The Rail line itself snapped at the point of breakage, its two halves twisting away like rearing serpents and spraying sparks and arcs of lightning in all directions. The tallgrass burst alight in a dozen places.

The car itself was flung forward, tumbling end-over-end through the air like a stone hurled from a catapult on a course that would have sent it smashing into the middle of the town. It righted itself midair, however, slowing dramatically, until it drifted lightly the last dozen yards of its journey and settled to the ground next to Last Rock’s Rail platform so delicately that the nearby tallgrass was not even disturbed.

Lacking the support of the enchanted Rail line on which it was meant to rest, it immediately toppled over on its side.

The hatch burst open and Professor Tellwyrn bounded nimbly out, landing on the platform and straightening her vest. “Offhand I can think of a dozen ways to improve the performance of that vehicle,” she muttered. “Ah, well. Any landing you walk away from, as they say.”

A figure emerged at the hatch, dragged itself weakly over the lip and tumbled to the ground.

“Earth!” Rook gasped, pausing to actually kiss the dirt. “Sweet, blessed ground! I will never leave you again. Pleh, blah,” he added, spitting out loam and wiping his mouth.

“Remind me never to get in anything with you again, Professor,” Finchley added shakily, pausing astride the hatch to give Moriarty a hand up.

“Oh, you’re fine, you drama queens,” Tellwyrn said disparagingly. “I made certain of that. Pull yourselves together, this night is going to get harder before it gets easier.”

She strode to the edge of the platform and stood, fists on her hips, staring up at the peak of the mountain. Above the campus, swirling black specks swarmed in all directions. Behind her, the three soldiers finally straggled up.

“Oh, fuck me,” Rook whispered, staring up at the distant demons.

Tellwyrn grunted. “The time for that was before all hell broke loose. Now we focus.” She hopped down from the platform, disdaining the stairs, and strode forward into the town.

Rook snorted as he and the others followed. “Well, it’s not like that was on the table, anyhow.” “How would you know? You never tried.”

He missed a step. “Wh—you’re not… Wait, that could actually…?”

Tellwyrn glanced over her shoulder, grinning. “Too late now.”

Rook sighed heavily, shoulders slumping. “You’re a bad person, Professor Tellwyrn.”

“Mm hm. Whine more, women love that.”

“Professor,” Moriarty said hesitantly, “I’m not entirely sure why you wanted us along for this.”

“Because I need my faculty riding herd on those damn kids. Who knows what else they’ll come up with; I’ve already had one pry open a hellgate and the entire freshman class do this bullshit. All it’ll take is for one more disaster to happen in the middle of a major city and I’ll never get the Imperials off my butt. What we need to do here is close that damn portal, which means somebody has to go through it to work the other side.”

Finchley squeaked.

“Not you,” she said acidly. “I will see to that. Luckily two of the little asshats up there are arcanists and three are light-wielders, so assuming they can follow simple instructions, they can handle it from this end. But with part of the group doing that, I need somebody to shoot demons and let them work on it. That’s your job.”

“Shooting stuff we can do!” Rook promised.

“Hm,” she grunted. “It occurs to me suddenly that I’ve never actually seen you try.”

“That’s not true, remember when that Longshot clown was—”

All four came to an immediate halt when they heard the noise. The sheer wrongness of it made it more disturbing than the sound itself deserved to be; what should have been an eerie whisper was powerful enough to vibrate their very skeletons. In unison they lifted their eyes to the hellgate above the University.

What emerged was horrifying first and foremost for its size. The armor-plated, birdlike face, ending in a wickedly hooked black beak, was surmounted by a triple row of incandescent red eyes that seemed too small for it by far. It was easily large enough to swallow a Rail caravan. And still, the thing kept coming. It oozed outward, snapping at a group of hiszilisks in passing, its sinuous body continuously unfurling from the portal. The thing was proportioned very much like an eel, but partially covered with plates of rusty-looking armor, from between which emerged an orange glow, as if the beast were filled with fire and its skin cracking. An almost comically small pair of fins waved just behind its head, with above them pulsing translucent sacs that definitely were full of fire, inflating and collapsing with the rhythm of its breath. When it finally fully emerged from the portal, with a flick of its finned tail, it was longer than a passenger zeppelin, and roughly as massive.

“No,” Moriarty whispered.

“Hm,” Tellwyrn mused. “That hellgate’s bigger than I realized.”

“What the hell is that?” Rook asked shakily.

“It’s called a nurdrakhaan,” she replied, resuming her stride. They trailed along behind her, after a moment’s hesitation. “You may note a similar root in there to the word ‘dragon.’ That’s Hell’s version of the same basic thing. Less intelligent, less restrained, considerably more destructive.”

“You’re awfully calm,” Rook said, his tone almost accusing.

“Just as soon as it becomes productive to panic, I assure you, I’ll take up the habit. Now, since we can’t teleport this close to the active gate, we’re gonna have to take the slow way back up the mountain.”

“I don’t know about you,” said Finchley, “but after hiking up that thing we may not be in the best shape to fight demons!”

“I said the slow way, not the stupid way,” Tellwyrn snapped. She had led them across the outer square of the town, abutting the Rail platform and scrolltower office, to the front of the Ale & Wenches. The Professor grabbed the front door by its handle, which immediately glowed blue for a moment, and the lock clicked open. She pulled the door open and stepped within. “Come on, come on. Time’s wasting.”


 

“Well…that’s one way to do it,” Ruda said slowly. They watched, weapons at the ready, as the enormous monstrosity spun through the air above them, snapping up whole clusters of hiszilisks in its gigantic maw. It appeared to move slowly, its undulations almost dreamlike, but that was an illusion created by its size. It was clearly faster than the smaller, more nimble demons. Their habit of grouping together made them more vulnerable to its attacks, but they didn’t seem in a hurry to learn.

“Why is it helping us?” Gabriel demanded, turning to look at Trissiny.

“It’s not,” she said tersely.

“But it’s only attacking the demons, not the campus!”

“A nurdrakhaan doesn’t help.”

“We were told those demons don’t answer to Elilial,” Toby said slowly, frowning up at the scene playing out above them. “With the implication that whoever opened the hellgate and brought them here didn’t, either. What if she sent something to clean up the mess on the other end?”

“Regardless,” Trissiny said sharply, “that thing cannot be allowed to run amok on the mortal plane. In the very immediate term, yes, it seems to be cleaning up the hiszilisks for us, which is fine. But it’s also a vastly greater threat than they are, and we need to bring it down.”

“What if it just goes back through the portal after it finishes with those guys?” Fross asked.

“Demons don’t do that.”

“Then the question,” Shaeine said softly, “is how do you propose to kill it?”

Trissiny frowned. “…Vadrieny, can you knock it out of the air?”

“I don’t have the physical strength,” the archdemon admitted. “There’s no leverage in the air. It’s not aerodynamic, as you can see; it flies by magic, and it has a lot of magic. I don’t know how to interfere with the spells holding it up.”

“How much can you hurt it, do you think?”

She flexed her claws. “As much as I can get these on, which…would annoy it, sure. Maybe I could put out its eyes?”

“Somehow I don’t think having that thing reeling around blind would be a positive development,” said Gabriel.

A small pack of hiszilisks came at them from a steep dive, screeching. They hit a cloud of ice expelled by Fross, then tumbled through a barrage of Gabriel’s wandfire into a haze of golden light, finally impacting a silver shield which immediately flickered out, leaving them to tumble, smoking, to the ground a few feet distant.

“What about mithril?” Fross suggested. “Sounds like it’ll fall naturally if we block the magic in it. In fact, that might kill it outright. I doubt that thing could breathe in this atmosphere if we impose objective physics on it.”

“We have one mithril item in our possession,” said Ruda, patting her rapier, “and apart from the difficulty of getting it up there, it’s just not big enough to make much of a dent.”

“Triss, does it have vital points?” Juniper asked.

Trissiny shook her head slowly, still staring up at the gargantuan demon. “Presumably. It’s not as if anyone’s ever dissected one in a lab. I imagine they’re somewhere on the inside.”

“Then we brute force it,” said Gabriel. “Vadrieny can probably rip through that armor, given time and space to work. Juniper cancels infernal power just by touching it. Ruda’s sword—hell, Trissiny’s sword will harm it. So…all we have to do is get it on the ground, dazed or too wounded to fight.”

The nurdrakhaan opened its huge maw and that disconcerting hissing roar sounded again. Hiszilisks fled in all directions; one group was too slow, and vanished in a snap of its jaws.

“Oh, is that all,” Ruda said. “Well, we’re just about done here then, aren’t we? I’ll go get a head start on planning our victory bash.”

“I hope that’s making you feel better,” he told her, “because it sure as hell isn’t helping.”

“Right, keeping on point,” said Toby. “I think Gabriel’s right. So we need ideas.”

“To begin with, we can’t do that here,” said Trissiny. “There’s just not room on the mountaintop for that thing to lie down. We’ll have to abandon this position and lure it down onto the plain somehow.”

“Then I’d better take point,” Vadrieny said. “I’m the only one mobile enough in the air to manipulate it that closely.”

“Ahem,” said Fross.

“Fross, even if you’ve got the firepower to damage that thing,” said Gabriel, “you’re probably too small for it to see.”

“You may be right,” the pixie said grudgingly.

“What if you get eaten?” Trissiny asked Vadrieny.

The demon grinned, displaying her disturbing complement of fangs. “Then I’ll be closer to its vitals, won’t I?”

“Let us call that Plan B,” Shaeine said firmly.

“Then we have a strategy,” said Trissiny. “Moving will attract the hiszilisks, which isn’t ideal, but I don’t see a choice. We need to make our way down the mountain and away from the town. Vadrieny, you’ll have to stay on top of the nurdrakhaan. As long as it’s just killing hiszilisks, leave it alone, but if it—”

“Incoming,” Fross interrupted. “Two o’clock, eighty degree elevation.”

Trissiny turned her head to scowl at the cluster of hiszilisks now heading straight for them in a steep dive. That particular flock had just had half their number snapped up by the nurdrakhaan, which was now moving past behind them.

“Shaeine, rest,” Trissiny said tersely. “Gabe, discourage them. Toby, Fross, stand by for them to close.”

Gabriel had already raised both wands and unleashed a barrage of blasts at the incoming demons. Lightning snapped through the cluster, arcing between several targets; they were singed but not as badly affected by pure electricity while not grounded. His other wand, the ebony-hafted enchanter’s weapon the Crawl had given him, did a lot more damage. Two demons plummeted from the sky, and a third veered to the side, clipped by a wandshot.

“You’re getting better with that thing,” Toby commented.

Gabriel grinned, half-turning his head to reply.

In that moment a stray shot struck the nurdrakhaan, near the tip of its tail.

The enormous beast instantly pivoted in midair, turning to glare down at them directly, and opened its mouth to emit that skeleton-vibrating hiss.

The good news was that the hiszilisks immediately abandoned their attack, scattering in all directions.

“Oh, come on,” Gabriel whispered. “It’s made of armor. How did it even feel that?”

“Arquin, we’ve only known each other less than a year,” Ruda said in a tone of resignation, “but somehow I feel I’ve always known that when I died, it would be your fucking fault.”

“Shh,” Trissiny murmured. “Don’t move. Maybe it—”

The mammoth demon hissed again and dived straight toward them. Suddenly its motion didn’t seem nearly so slow.

“Get moving!” Vadrieny ordered, and with a beat of her wings shot upward, straight at the creature.

The archdemon curved sideways in flight to approach it at an angle, and slammed straight into the side of its armored beak, actually forcing the monstrosity off course. Letting out a wild scream, she clawed savagely at the thick shell plating its face, tearing loose handfuls of chitinous armor. The nurdrakhaan hissed in protest, shaking its head to dislodge her.

“New plan!” Trissiny announced. “Run for it! Keep an eye on the sky, we’ll have to—”

Another, even louder hiss that literally shook the ground made them all pause, wincing; Shaeine clapped both hands over her sensitive ears. The nurdrakhaan twisted in midair, smashing its face against the upper level of the astronomy tower and crushing Vadrieny into the edifice. Stone crumbled under the blow, the entire structure swaying dangerously. The nurdrakhaan pulled back; in the next second, Vadrieny was visible, dragging herself out of a collapsed pile of masonry and flexing her wings for another takeoff.

Moving faster than they had yet seen it do, the nurdrakhaan whipped around, smashing its tail against her and the tower.

The entire tower was pulverized, rubble flying outward over the side of the mountain to plummet to the plain below. There was no sign of the archdemon amid the carnage.

“She’s fine,” Trissiny said, grabbing Shaeine’s shoulder as the drow took a compulsive step toward the ruins. “No amount of physical force will harm her. She has her job to do; we need to keep moving! Stay together—”

“No,” Ruda shouted, “scatter!”

It came down on them like a falling star, ridged jaws wide and hissing furiously. The students bolted in two directions as the colossal demon hit the ground mouth-first. It scooped out a huge swath of the lawn, changing course at the point of impact with astonishing agility, seemingly unfazed by the force of its own landing. Dragging its long, armored bulk through the rut it had bitten out only widened it, tossing soil, fragments of stone walkways and hiszilisk corpses in all directions.

No one was slow enough to be swallowed, but no one was agile to get completely out of the way, with the lucky exception of Fross.

“I gotcha!” the pixie shouted, yanking Ruda with her on an invisible cord of magic. The pirate flew straight backward into the hefty doors of Helion Hall, where she crumpled to the ground, dazed. “Oh, crap,” Fross yelped, zipping over to her.

Juniper managed to keep her feet, even as the very ground under her was torn up and rippled outward like a tidal wave. She even bounded toward the massive demon as its coils ground past, slamming a fist into its side. The blow was ineffectual and cost her enough balance to send her tumbling back down, but for at least a moment she managed to provide a testament to the martial forms in which Professor Ezzaniel had drilled her in lieu of having her actually fight other students.

Shaine and Gabriel were hit directly by the edge of the nurdrakhaan’s beak; he went sailing straight into a tree, managing to keep a grip on only one of his wands. She had the presence of mind to wreath herself in a silver shield, and to sustain it as the magical orb was sent bouncing down the stairs to the next terrace down, where it collapsed, as did she.

Toby, rather than running from the demon, threw himself at Trissiny, who had side-stepped neatly but not attempted to flee. Throwing his arms around her shoulders from behind, he wreathed them both in a golden glow, firmer than those he had been using against the hiszilisks. Her own golden shield covered them more closely. The double layer of protection barely saved them.

Her dodge had taken her out of the immediate range of the demon’s mouth, but in the subsequent disturbance of the ground, she hadn’t the footing to evade the impact of its fin. Whether by chance or intention, it flicked them upward, sending the two paladins hurtling onto the roof of the cafeteria. Their joined shields held up to that blow and the impact, but that was all.

Toby staggered to the floor, winded, Trissiny barely keeping her feet. Just beyond them, over the low lip of stone that surrounded the roof, the nurdrakhaan ascended skyward again, hissing.

“Now what?” Toby wheezed, dragging himself upright.

“I have a plan,” she said grimly, her eyes on the beast. Her aura flared gold again. “Are you close to burnout?”

“Not nearly. I’ve been pacing myself. I’m assuming you can go even longer, being part elf?”

She nodded. “Light up. Shield yourself and put out as much of a corona as you safely can.”

He did so, watching her for further cues. She followed her own advice, keeping her gaze fixed on the enormous demon. Between the two of them, the entire roof of the cafeteria blazed as if under the noonday sun.

“Okay, what next?”

Trissiny pointed at the beast with her sword; the ancient, pitted blade glowed nearly white with the intensity of the magic gathering in it, then blazed forward in one concerted burst.

He could see why she didn’t use that tactic as a weapon. The light flowed out more like radiance from a shuttered lantern than the directed energy of a wandshot. It was focused enough, however, to make a gleaming patch along the side of the nurdrakhaan.

The monster whirled again, fixing its six scarlet eyes on them, and hissed.

“Trissiny?” Toby said urgently.

“Gather and rally everyone,” she ordered, glaring up at the demon.

“Oh, no you don’t, I know what you’re thinking and you can forg—”

“Together we can do this, but they’ll be picked off individually,” she snapped. “They must rally. Get it done, Caine.”

The nurdrakhaan hissed once more and dived straight at them.

Trissiny whirled and planted a snap kick right in the side of Toby’s shield, booting him toward the edge of the roof.

All his years of training in the martial arts were thwarted by his own shield; he had never practiced keeping his balance while at the fixed center of an indestructible sphere. The orb of energy hit the foot-high wall and rolled neatly over, lifting his feet right off the floor and sending him plummeting off the side.

He hit the ground hard for the second time in the last sixty seconds, again losing his hold on the shield. He immediately flung it back up, barely avoiding being crushed by debris as the nurdrakhaan ripped a huge gouge out of the roof of the cafeteria.

Through the dust, at a painful angle around the broken masonry between him and the beast, he could see it rising skyward again, hissing its displeasure, the source of which was the glowing Hand of Avei clinging to its face with her sword lodged in one of the gouges Vadrieny had made in its armor.

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The scene at the central Rail station in Calderaas was one of orderly chaos, a familiar sight to those who had lived through well-mannered disasters. In accordance with the Imperial proclamation freezing Rail travel, the station was emptied of its normal clientele and much of its normal staff. With the throngs of travelers gone, the cavernous space turned out to have ample room for the refugees from Last Rock, though they were huddled uncomfortably close together in some cases.

Imperial personnel moved rapidly about, mostly civilians from the Ministry of the Interior in suits and dresses, distinct from the townsfolk chiefly by their silver gryphon badges and brisk manner. Uniformed soldiers carrying staves were posted at the entrances and windows and strategically throughout the station, keeping watch; more of them, sans weapons, had been put to work helping to shift cargo. For the most part, the townsfolk were admirably calm and orderly. The frontier bred hardy people more inclined to work than to complain, and the proximity to the University had taught these particular souls a degree of comfort with the unexpected. Nonetheless, there were raised voices, minor scuffles and the odd backup of traffic as someone misunderstood directions or refused to follow them. Clerics were moving through the crowd, mostly Universal Church parsons, Omnist monks and several Izarites, helping to keep people calm and seeing to whatever needs they found.

The townsfolk were being settled into hastily-cleared offices and storage warehouses, with several in tents erected along the wider thoroughfares and main lobby, while the students were being set up along the platforms suspended above the actual Rail lines. Imperial officers, familiar with the handling of upset civilians in a crisis, had taken one look at the two groups and promptly separated them. Even now, with distance and casually wandering soldiers between them, a lot of the townspeople were directing angry looks and mutters at the students. Even aside from the general presumption that the University was responsible for whatever nonsense befell the town, there were more than a few Rockies intelligent enough to do the arithmetic on the situation and deduce that a student, or students, had to be personally responsible for the hellgate. By this point, that awareness had sifted through the entire population, and even some of the more laid-back citizens were growing irate. The usual run of University tomfoolery was one thing, but they’d now been separated from their homes and were facing the possibility of having no homes to which to return. The priests had a full job maintaining calm.

Professors were helping with that. They moved among the students, keeping order better than the Imperials could (apparently enough of the Interior personnel were acquainted with college students to know not to try clamping down on them), and also speaking with the civilians. University staff grew to be more familiar to the folk of Last Rock than students, simply by virtue of having more time to get to know them. Most were liked, at least to an extent, and they had a measure of trust accumulated which was paying off in this situation.

Nobody was under the delusion that this was a long-term solution. Apart from the simple sanitary concerns of having that many people in a confined space, the simmering tensions would only get worse the longer people were kept in such a tight situation. It was just a matter of time until someone lashed out, one way or another, and that raised the very real possibility of an escalating conflict. In theory, it should all be resolved one way or another within two days, but the Ministry of the Interior was already drawing up a resettlement plan for the refugees. So far, only some of the senior University faculty and the mayor and Sheriff of Last Rock had been informed of this, on the reasoning that seriously discussing the possible destruction of the town would only escalate tensions. For the time being, everyone was focusing on tending to the needs of the refugees and keeping calm and order among them.

“YOU WHAT?”

Almost everyone.

Professor Tellwyrn stood nose-to-nose with a man whose Army uniform bore a captain’s stripes below a Strike Corps insignia; he stared back at her with remarkable calm considering the situation.

“We are not embarking for Last Rock, or anywhere else,” the captain said patiently. Behind him, the three other members of his strike team stood in relaxed postures that belied the cold stares they all directed at Tellwyrn. A second strike team stood off to the side, having casually arranged themselves into a staggered diamond formation that gave them all a direct line of sight at the Professor, placing their warlock at the head of the group and the cleric in the back.

“Tell me that again,” Tellwyrn hissed. “This time, speak slowly and use small words, as I appear to have gone completely insane. There is no other possible explanation for what I thought I just heard.”

“The orders are directly from the Emperor. Forces are being dispatched from Tiraas, and as I just said, Professor, all other details are classified. I couldn’t tell you more even if I knew more.”

“Do you?”

He smiled thinly. “That’s also classified.”

“That’s nonsense!” she barked. “Calderaas is the provincial capital and the established staging area. There is no reason to re-route resources from Tiraas, hundreds of miles south, when there are soldiers, zeppelins and strike teams here!”

“I am confident that his Majesty knows what he is doing,” the captain said calmly.

“Maybe I should go ask him,” Tellwyrn snorted, taking a step back.

Immediately, a faint buzz of arcane energy sprang up around all eight Strike Corps members, along with a small but noticeable increase in the ambient temperature and a golden glow wreathing the two clerics. Both fae magic users slipped hands into their coat pockets.

“Be extremely careful, Professor,” warned the captain quietly. “That was uncomfortably close to a threat to the Emperor.”

“Boy,” she said disdainfully, “do you really imagine I’m impressed by—”

“Do you imagine I am?” he shot back. “Yes, yes, we know, big bad Arachne can bring this whole place down around all our heads. Either do it or pipe down and behave yourself, lady. There’s a crisis going on, if you haven’t noticed, and nobody has time for your grandstanding. The Empire is handling this. You will be informed of anything you need to know.”

Behind him, the priestess in his team sighed heavily and shook her head. The warlock next to her grinned.

Tellwyrn regarded the captain with a curious expression for a moment before opening her mouth to speak again.

“WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?”

“Oh, what now,” Tellwyrn muttered, turning her back on the Strike Corps to seek out the new disturbance.

She stalked through the informal blockade of soldiers, none of whom moved close enough to make that difficult, to the platforms where the student groups were being organized. A mixed gaggle of sophomores and freshmen were clustered together, confronted by Janis van Richter, who was scarlet-faced and hyperventilating with a mixture of panic and fury.

As Tellwyrn arrived, Professor Yornhaldt emerged from the crowd in response to the noise, several other faculty members and a couple of Imperial Marshals gravitating over behind him.

“Janis,” Tellwyrn said sharply, “what is the—”

“Look!” Janis shrieked, reaching out to grab Ruda by the shoulder. Her hand passed straight through, eliciting no reaction from the girl. Next to her, Tanq and Natchua exchanged a nervous glance.

Tellwyrn halted, frowned, and pushed her spectacles up her nose, peering at the students through rather than over them. Her expression immediately grew an order of magnitude more angry. She held up one hand and snapped her fingers.

Instantly, the entire freshman class dissolved in a clatter of sparks and falling objects. Smoke drifted up from the wreckage of charred enchanting components now lying inert on the metal platform. The one exception was Fross, who immediately veered sideways and went shooting drunkenly off over the Rail tracks. In seconds, she lost cohesion and dissolved in a blur of mist.

“Wh—that—they—“ Professor Yornhaldt clapped a hand to his forehead. “I didn’t even— Arachne, I’m afraid I must immediately tender my resignation on the grounds that I have become a senile old fool.”

“Oh, shut up, Alaric,” she growled. “If I expected you to match wits with duplicitous teenagers I’d have to pay you better. What’s more to the point is they could not have done this alone; eight illusionary kids boarding a caravan would have drawn some notice.” She tilted her head down, glaring at the members of the sophomore class now standing around the destroyed golems. “Unless someone was covering for them.”

“The Hand of Avei has a calling, and an obligation to face the demons,” November said stridently. “It’s an honor to be of service to her in that!” She was only present because a caravan with a special safety harness had been found to carry her, and was now (much to her irritation) confined to a wheeled chair with a heavy lap quilt on Miss Sunrunner’s orders.

Beside her, Natchua shrugged, folded her arms and looked away. “If the froshes all want to get killed, I respect their choices.”

“Wait, wait, stop,” said Chase, his eyes wide. His lower lip started to tremble dramatically. “You man…that wasn’t really them? D-does this mean me and Trissiny aren’t getting married?” November shot him a filthy look.

“Those. Little. Shits.” Tellwryn hissed.

Behind her, Professor Ezzaniel cleared his throat. “It’s not like that group to do something so dangerous without a specific reason, Arachne. Considering the situation, I suspect Omnu and Avei are directly behind this.”

“Who did you think I was talking about?” she snarled, whirling and stalking away up the platform.

There was a clatter and a fountain of sparks as the connector between the Rail driver car and the compartment immediately behind it severed. Instantly, the entire empty caravan fell onto the Rail itself with a tremendous crash that brought people running from all directions. Except the driver car, which floated up into the air, turning completely around as it drifted back past the wrecked caravan and settled gently onto the Rail, facing back the way it had come.

Immediately, its hatch swung outward and a shaken-looking Imperial enchanter leaned out. “What in Omnu’s flaming name—?”

“Change of plans!” Tellwyrn said, stomping up to him. “This car is going back to Last Rock. Now. Out.”

“I’ve received no such orders,” he blustered.

“You just did, boy,” she snapped. “Get out of the car before I have to get you out.”

“Now see here!” He drew himself up fully, which was quite impressive as he was still leaning awkwardly forward out of the hatch. “The Imperial Rails answer to no one but his Majesty! If you think for one moment—”

“Driver!” a voice shouted from the near distance. The crowd of nervous onlookers parted, disgorging three Imperial soldiers with Private Moriarty at their head, pointing imperiously at the enchanter. “A further crisis has developed. On the authority of his Imperial Majesty I am commandeering this vehicle. I’ll need you to step out, please.”

“Oh, well,” he hemmed, glancing back into his compartment. “I guess if that’s—eep!” The enchanter staggered, barely catching his balance as Tellwyrn tugged him out onto the platform.

“Good work,” she said curtly, pausing just inside to point at the trio. “You three! Get in here, I may need some warm bodies to throw at a problem.”

“Well, if you’re gonna sweet talk us, I guess we have no choice,” Rook drawled, ambling forward.

It was crowded with four of them in the compartment. The three soldiers pressed themselves back onto the padded bench along its rear wall, groping for the provided handholds, of which there were not enough for all of them.

“Ugh, what is this?” Tellwyrn growled, yanking the hatch shut and glaring at the runic console. “What a mess. I told them to keep the controls simple. What does this even do?” She prodded a bank of symbols and immediately the Rail beneath them began to glow blue, humming furiously and emitting odd sparks. “Oh, I see. Well, that’s handy, needed that anyway. What are you leering at?” she demanded, turning her head to look at Rook, whose insane grin had been reflected on the inside of the windscreen.

“Moriarty broke a rule!” he crowed.

“The exalted rank of private doesn’t give us the authority to commandeer anything,” Finchley added. “Especially Imperial property.”

“An Imperial Rail driver wouldn’t yield his assigned place under any threat,” Moriarty huffed, folding his arms. “And he was standing between Arachne Tellwyrn and what she wanted. I just saved that man’s life.”

“You are rapidly becoming my favorite, Moriarty,” Tellwyrn said, turning back to the controls. She flicked her fingers across two runes and grasped a lever.

“Oh, gods,” he groaned, and that was as far as he got before she pulled the lever.

The car shot forward like a bolt of lightning, accelerating faster and far less smoothly than Rail caravans were meant to. Within seconds, they were outside the city and rounding the first gentle curve, smashing the three men into the wall and eliciting a chorus of screams. Tellwyrn gripped the lever and a hanging strap, balancing upright without apparent difficulty.

“For heaven’s sake, cut out that racket,” she snapped. “Let me concentrate! I’ve got about ten minutes to figure out how to stop this thing.”

For some reason, that didn’t seem to help.


 

“Did you see them go?” Ruda asked as the girls stepped onto the bridge toward the main campus from Clarke Tower. After months of making the trip, they barely gave the frightening drop a glance.

“Fross came to collect us,” Shaeine replied. “We were not attending the window at the time, but I gather it is confirmed? We are alone on campus?”

“Oh ho,” Ruda said, waggling her eyebrows. “And what were you attending—”

“Somehow that was the first time I’ve watched a Rail caravan depart from the vantage of our room,” Trissiny interrupted her. “It was a surprisingly awesome sight. Makes me feel like I’ve wasted opportunities all these months to see it happen. You just don’t appreciate how fast those things move when you’re inside one.”

“On the inside you mostly appreciate how roughly they move,” Teal said with a grin.

“Well, it’s not like you can just sit at your window waiting for it,” Juniper said reasonably. “Last Rock is only barely on the regular stop roster, and most the time nobody’s coming here, much less leaving. The caravans don’t come around all that often.”

“How do you know that?” Ruda asked.

The dryad shrugged. “I read, I talk to people. It’s not exactly a secret.”

“I thought the plan was to meet up on the cafeteria lawn,” Trissiny said as they reached the gate to the main campus and found Toby and Gabriel there waiting.

“Yes, well, we decided to surprise you,” said Toby with a smile. “Purely out of concern for your well-being and not at all because this place is unbearably creepy when it’s deserted.”

“It’s hard to tell,” Gabe added, “but I think it would be even without… You know.” He pointed skyward, and they all paused to look up.

The wispy spiral of clouds had, over the last hour, grown to a huge thunderhead, twisted into a slowly rotating vortex and casting a shadow over the mountain, the town and their surroundings. There were no other clouds in the sky, as if all had been drawn to the hellgate. As the sun was falling and the sky reddening, a sickly orange glow illuminated the clouds. It might have been a natural result of the sunset, except that it was too faint, and the way it reflected on the swirls of vapor made it plain that the source was at the center of the spiral. There was no thunder, no sound of any kind, but flashes occurred periodically among the clouds, like distant lighting, except an ominous red in color.

“Might as well get over there, anyway,” said Fross. “I don’t know how much difference it’ll make, but…that’s where the center of it is.”

“Yeah,” Trissiny agreed, nodding, and set out on the path toward the cafeteria. The rest fell into step with her.

“Arquin, just what the fuck do you think you’re doing with that thing?” Ruda demanded.

Gabriel placed a hand protectively on the hilt of the black sword hanging at his side. “Well, considering what we’re up against… I figured it was best to be as prepared as possible.”

“Being prepared means knowing how to use the weapons you have,” she snorted. “You’re prepared to cut your damn foot off.”

“It doesn’t cut me,” he said, scowling. “I checked.”

“Yeah, way to really hone in on the important point there.”

“Gabriel has been training with the sword,” said Trissiny, “with my help. He’s making progress.”

“Really?” Ruda raised her eyebrows. “Well, damn. Color me impressed.”

“I do what I can,” Gabriel said with blatantly false modesty.

“Progress,” Trissiny clarified, “in this case meaning that I trust him, barely, not to harm himself more than an enemy. I’m a lot less confident about him swinging that thing around while the rest of us are standing nearby. Please stick to the wands, Gabe.”

“I was planning to anyway,” he said with a sigh.

“Why do you even still have that?” Fross asked. “I thought you were gonna have the spells on it analyzed. Somehow it seems like Tellwyrn would have made you get rid of it.”

“Which is why I didn’t take it to Tellwyrn,” he said, winking at her. “I showed it to Professor Yornhaldt; he said it’s very old and was clearly the work of an archmage or something similar.”

“That’s it?” Teal asked. “No word on what the spells actually do?”

“He couldn’t tell. Apparently they’re extremely complicated and very tightly woven together, or…something. It got a bit technical for me; I learned some new terms to look up but even so I never did follow the whole thing. But no, he said to really understand what the magic was supposed to do, he’d have to start unraveling the enchantments on it, which would probably ruin them. He did suggest I could probably sell it to a collector for a good sum, or even turn it into the Empire for a bounty. Apparently the government likes to take powerful magical artifacts out of circulation whenever possible.”

“And yet…there it still is,” Toby noted.

Gabriel shrugged, looking self-conscious; he touched the hilt again, lightly brushing his fingers over it. “It’s… I dunno. It just didn’t feel right. It’s almost like I rescued her, y’know?”

Ruda snorted. “Her?”

“Well, Ariel’s a girl’s name, right?”

“I’m a little more concerned with the fact that you’re carrying a weapon loaded down with extremely powerful spells and you don’t even know what they do,” Trissiny said, turning to glance at him as they walked. “I wish you’d just left it in your room, Gabriel. Failing that, please leave it in the sheath. We are assuredly not going to need extra sources of trouble tonight.”

“Yes, General,” he grumped.

They walked in silence the rest of the way to the lawn, and by unspoken design formed into a loose circle outside the broken cafeteria windows, gazing upward. Silent lightning flickered through the clouds. It was subtle, but distinct: the flashes were coming more regularly now.

“It will be all right,” said Toby quietly. “This isn’t an accident. The gods sent us here; they have a plan.”

“Yup,” said Ruda, unconsciously gripping the jeweled hilt of her rapier. “I’m just hoping the plan isn’t ‘these paladins suck, let’s waste ’em and get new ones.’”

Everyone turned to look at her, wide-eyed.

“No,” Trissiny said solemnly. “Omnu would never do such a thing.”

The tension abated just like that; Toby actually had to clap a hand over his mouth to stifle a burst of laughter.

“I’m telling her you said that,” Ruda said with a grin, lightly punching her roommate’s shoulder.

“By all means, do,” Trissiny replied, smiling. “That’s a conversation I would dearly love to see.”

“Guys,” Gabriel said tersely. “Look.”

They saw them just barely before they heard them. They started as tiny black specks, pouring out from the center of the maelstrom, but in the quiet, the sound of buzzing immediately became audible…and then, grew. Figures continued to stream out, still too distant to be distinct, but swarming ever closer to the ground. Dozens of them, scores… Quickly, though they were uncountable in their multitudes, it became clear they numbered in the hundreds, at least. As they came, the sound of buzzing wings grew ever more insistent.

“Just so we’re clear,” Trissiny said grimly, “nobody minds if I kill these, right?”

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“Trissiny, could I borrow you for a moment?”

Trissiny rose smoothly from the crouch she had assumed on the lawn (a position she claimed was quite comfortable, which none of the rest of the group had been able to hold longer than five minutes), turning to face the approaching elf.

“What is it, Ms. Sunrunner?”

“She goes by ‘Miss,’” Ruda said helpfully.

The shaman and paladin both ignored her. “November is awake,” Miss Sunrunner said, “and is…not going to be an easy patient. All she really needs is to lie still and rest for a while, which she seems adamantly averse to doing. She’s requested your presence.”

“Mine?” Trissiny raised her eyebrows.

“I’d hoped you could perhaps get her to listen,” the healer said dryly. “At the very least. Otherwise I’m going to have to sedate her, which I hate to do unnecessarily, even with someone who won’t need to be bundled into a Rail caravan within the hour.”

Trissiny sighed softly. “Oh.. Of course. Be back in a bit, guys,” she added to the others before following Miss Sunrunner into the cafeteria. They simply stepped over the broken sills of its front ledge, the glass having already been swept up.

“That’s gonna be embarrassing,” Gabriel said cheerfully. “Fross, can you rig up a remote-listening spell on the fly?”

“Yes I can, and no I won’t!” The pixie dived in front of him, barely avoiding bopping him on the nose. “That’s extremely rude! How would you like it if someone spied on your private conversation?”

“Whoah, hey!” Gabriel protested, holding up his hands. “It was a joke!”

Fross chimed discordantly. “You know, Gabe, I’m starting to think you just say that when you don’t want to face the social consequences of something you said in earnest.”

“She’s onto you,” Toby murmured. Gabriel shot him a scowl.

There occurred a soft disturbance of raised voices and shifting bodies as the various students and staff assembled on the lawn turned to look upward. The freshmen did likewise, those who had been sitting shooting to their feet.

From the swirling vortex above, an orange streak had materialized and arced outward in a long spiral toward the ground. Vadrieny banked out over the campus so as to approach from a shallower angle and beat her wings upon nearing the ground, settling down softly in a clear space. Before sending her up, Professor Tellwyrn had spoken to her sharply about her habit of plummeting down hard enough to shake the ground, pointing at the fresh gouges in the stone floor outside the cafeteria for emphasis.

“You’re all right?” Tellwyrn asked, striding over to the demon.

“Perfectly,” Vadrieny replied in a clipped tone. “There’s little enough in Hell that can threaten me, and apparently not much that would want to try.”

Tellwyrn nodded. “What did you find?”

“It’s not good,” the archdemon said. Students shifted forward to listen, though her distinctive voice was powerful enough to be plainly audible all over the lawn. “In fact, it’s virtually as bad as it could possibly be. There’s a sizable hiszilisk hive a few miles distant into the Darklands, close enough to be plainly visible. It has a citadel built into the top displaying Scaontar iconography. Most likely the demons there are in control of the hiszilisks. That’s not uncommon.”

The Professor frowned. “Scaontar? What’s that?”

“Oh?” Vadrieny raised an eyebrow. “You mean there’s something the great Professor Tellwyrn doesn’t know?”

“Young lady,” Tellwyrn began, scowling thunderously, “this is not the time—”

“Yes, yes,” the demon snapped, waving a clawed hand. “They’re…not quite a faction, but a philosophy. They oppose Elilial, but not in any organized manner, so she hasn’t moved against them in force. Really, they oppose any organized power; they fought Scyllith during her reign, too. They’ll even fight each other if different groups cross paths. Sort of like centaurs, or some tribes of plains elves.”

“In other words,” Tellwyrn said grimly, “we’re positioned exactly next to a major concentration of the one force in Hell who won’t stand down if you tell them to.” Vadrieny nodded. “Did they appear to be mobilizing?”

“It’s impossible to tell,” the demon replied. “The hiszilisks were swarming about, but that’s what they do. They can’t have missed seeing the hellgate open, though, even if they weren’t behind it. They definitely won’t pass up the opportunity. Best to assume they are gearing up to attack.”

“Did you seriously not know you were building a University right across the dimensional barrier from something like that?” Anoia burst out. A junior in the divinities program, she was an elf with the horizontal ears of the plains people.

“First,” Tellwyrn said, shifting her body to face the assembled students as a whole, “hellgates don’t just pop open in the normal course of things, which is why no one looks into what’s on the infernal plane when beginning construction unless they plan to be messing with dimensional barriers. Just looking is sometimes enough to let something slip through. Second, the Darklands are a counterpart to the Golden Sea, and in fact are connected to it. That is how centaurs navigate; they use demonic contacts on the other side to move the Darklands, which causes similar shifts in the Sea, until the Sea reorganizes itself to mend the changes.”

“Still, awfully bad luck, though,” Chase noted.

“Luck has absolutely nothing to do with it,” Tellwyrn snapped. “Whoever opened that gate had a powerful demon ally on the other side to communicate with; they have to be worked at from both ends. Most likely that gnagrethyct. A creature like that could easily shift the Darklands to plant something exceptionally nasty next to us, either before opening the gate or right afterward.”

“What’s a hissy-lisk?” Tanq asked.

“Picture a cross between a wasp and an iguana,” said Vadrieny, “the size of a wolf, nominally sentient, and venomous.”

“So… Not answerable to Vadrieny, raider philosophy, and with a bunch of fliers,” said Professor Rafe, who had returned from the town only a few minutes previously. “I do say that’s tailored to be a threat to this campus. Look, kids, if you’re not happy about the food, there’s a suggestion box. This is just excessive.”

“Admestus,” Tellwyrn said wearily, “do shut up.”

Everyone turned to look as one of the three zeppelins parked below began to ascend, the silver Imperial gryphon embossed on its long gas capsule gleaming blindingly in the prairie sun. Two remained on the outskirts of Last Rock, still taking on passengers.

It had been several tense hours on the lawn; Tellwyrn had insisted upon everyone remaining in sight, in case the gnagrethyct returned. Over that time, runners (chosen from the faculty and in groups of two) had moved back and forth between the campus and the town, keeping her appraised of developments, since her teleportation was apparently unsafe to use. Miss Sunrunner had given her an earful about being non-consensually teleported that close to the hellgate, to which Tellwyrn had replied that obviously it wasn’t yet open at that point.

This had set off no end of speculation. Most of the student body had been present in the cafeteria at that time, and clearly none of them had been engaged in infernal portal-opening. Then again, if that order of events was correct, the gnagrethyct had crossed over before the gate had been formed. Either there was something more behind the situation that they hadn’t yet figured out, or whoever was responsible had taken great pains to confuse the issue and cover their tracks. Quite possibly both.

By this point, the University’s non-essential personnel—which Tellwyrn defined as those lacking any skills that would be useful if demons began pouring out of the portal—had already been sent below and evacuated via Rail. The dorm overseers, Stew the groundskeeper and a few of the professors were already gone. The students and more powerful faculty remained, both to pose a threat to anything emerging from the hellgate and to give more vulnerable people first access to the evacuation measures in place. They were also the most likely targets of further gnagrethyct attacks, a risk that was somewhat mitigated by having all of them present and under Tellwyrn’s watchful eye. Even after sending Vadrieny up to scout the portal, she had assured them she could deal with the demon if it returned. She had declined to explain further, and yet no one doubted the claim. For the most part it had all gone quite smoothly, except for a kerfuffle when Mrs. Oak flatly refused to abandon her kitchen and Tellwyrn flatly refused to make her. They both seemed quite unconcerned with the situation, but a number of the students were upset at the thought of leaving her behind, despite the cook’s surly disposition and general lack of popularity.

Trissiny emerged from the cafeteria and stalked back toward her classmates, just as Vadrieny withdrew, leaving Teal to do the same. They reached the group at more or less the same time. Shaeine gently took Teal’s hand in both of her own; Trissiny just came to a halt, glaring into the distance with her jaw set. A faint but noticeable blush hung over her cheeks.

“So,” Gabriel said sweetly, “how did it go?”

“She’ll be fine,” Trissiny said shortly. “I could have done without hearing her deathbed confession.”

“Wait, deathbed?” Juniper frowned. “I thought you said she’ll be fine.”

“I did. She will. I think she was rather embarrassed to learn it, afterwards.”

“How the hell did she not learn it until you got there?” Gabe asked, grinning in delighted schadenfreude. “I mean, she had to have woken up with Miss Sunrunner right there explaining things…”

“You’ve met November, haven’t you?” Trissiny snapped.

“And what did she confess, exactly?” Ruda asked, grinning insanely.

“There is no need to discuss it,” Trissiny said curtly. The pirate burst into laughter.

“We should respect other people’s privacy,” Toby said, carefully keeping his expression neutral. “I actually hadn’t realized before today that November was a priestess of Avei.”

“She is not,” Trissiny said firmly.

“But…we all saw her, with the glowing,” Gabe said, frowning. “And everyone knows she’s an Avenist. I think she’s managed to make that clear to everybody in the province.”

“November discovered Avei last year, after arriving at the University,” Trissiny said with a sigh. “She was born with the ability to channel divine energy without a relationship to any god.”

“What?” Juniper tilted her head. “I thought that was impossible.”

“A lot of dwarves can do it, but yes, for humans it’s unheard of,” Trissiny replied. “That’s why she’s here, instead of at a school for normal people.”

“Maybe she’s part dwarf,” Gabriel speculated.

“Are you kidding?” Ruda snorted. “I could fit both my hands around her waist. If anything, she’s part elf. She’s got the pointy features.”

“Anyway,” said Toby more firmly. Trissiny looked up, meeting his gaze, and after a moment they nodded at each other. In unison, the two paladins turned to stare seriously at their classmates. “Guys…we need your help. Fross, can you do some kind of silencing spell over us so we can’t be overheard?”

“Simplicity itself!” the pixie boasted, zipping outward and flying in a complete circle around the group. A very faint shimmering effect rose in the air, roughly spherical and isolating them from the rest of their classmates. Within the pale blue ball, all sound from outside was abruptly cut off.

“Neat,” Gabriel noted. “For the record, I could’ve done something similar.”

“Yeah, but you mostly use glyph engraving,” Fross replied. “That would’ve taken longer. More stable, though. So, uh, why did I need to do that?”

Toby took a deep breath and held it for a moment, apparently looking for word. Trissiny spoke before he could find them.

“We have to stay,” she said simply. “We need you guys to cover for us.”

The others stared at them in silence. Toby let out his breath, finally nodding in mute agreement.

Outside their bubble, several other students were watching them curiously, plainly aware what the spell was for, but no one was moving to approach. Tellwyrn was currently distracted by a conversation with Professor Ezzaniel, who had just returned from the town.

“Gonna need a little more detail than that,” Gabriel said tersely.

“Omnu spoke to me while Professor Tellwyrn was talking just now,” Toby said quietly, carefully angling his body so no one outside the group would be able to read his lips. He raised an eyebrow, glancing at Trissiny. “I assume Avei said the same to you? Right. This is a paladin thing, a matter of our calling. We’re to remain here after the mountain has been evacuated, and face whatever comes out of that portal.”

“Obviously, Tellwyrn isn’t going to have it,” Trissiny added. “She’s made it abundantly plain, numerous times, that she has no regard for the command of the gods. So…we need help. I’m sorry to have to ask this, but we need you guys to conjure some kind of illusion to make it seems we’re bugging out with everyone else, and make sure she and Professor Yornhaldt don’t get a close enough look to penetrate it. You can do that, right, Fross? Gabriel?”

“Actually,” Gabe mused, “I might have just the thing. It’s something new, so Tellwyrn probably isn’t aware of it. It’s actually based on something a succubus tried to do in Onkawa earlier this year, making portable self-directing illusion golems to impersonate people. Substituting arcane techniques for the infernal magic used, some of the big experimental spellcrafters in Calderaas replicated the effect and published their work. All so they could make a quick doubloon, of course; they’re selling kits. I bought some.”

“You bought magic golem kits?” Ruda asked, raising her eyebrows. “With what money? We didn’t clear that much from the Crawl.”

“Actually this was months ago, before the Crawl,” he said, “and it wasn’t that expensive. It’s called mass-production, Ruda, join the century. Anyhow, remember when you guys got jewels from the Golden Sea expedition and you insisted I get a share? That’s how I can afford it.”

“I thought you were going to build up some savings,” Toby said with a note of reproach.

“I was,” said Gabe, grinning unrepentantly, “but then this one started kicking my ass in the class rankings.” He nodded at Fross. “Since I can’t skip sleep to study, I’ve subscribed to several trade journals and catalogs and I’ve been ordering junk to tinker with. Come on, you’ve seen my collection. Did you think I was stealing it?”

“How many of these kits have you got?” Fross asked. “If you show me the diagrams I can help you put them together. Depending on how complex it is, we can maybe rig up some spares from general components if you haven’t got enough to cover all seven people.”

“Seven?” Toby said sharply.

“Should have plenty,” Gabriel replied to the pixie. “I got these to tinker with, remember, and you should always count on ruining some units. I should have about a dozen left. If we’re careful not to overload or miswire any it oughtta be enough.”

“You’re gonna need biological samples from each of us, aren’t you,” Ruda said resignedly. “Ugh, fine, you may pluck one hair. I’m not donating any fucking fluids.”

“Will it be okay to use mine?” Juniper asked worriedly. “I’m pretty much made of fae magic; that can react badly to arcane stuff.”

“Now, hold on,” Toby protested.

“There’s a standard spell lattice to work around that,” Gabriel assured the dryad. “It’s…hm, it takes some specific reagents, though, and we’ll have to be very careful about integrating it into the golem units. I don’t have the materials on hand.”

“I’ve got some,” Fross assured him, “and I can swipe the rest from one of the spell labs. Easy peasy, it’ll take me two minutes, tops.”

“Of course, you’re easy enough to duplicate,” he said, grinning up at her.

Fross bobbed up and down, chiming excitedly. “Standard will-o’-the-wisp illusion! I can anchor it to one of the golems without messing it up, I think.”

“Stop,” Trissiny said firmly. “You are not coming with us.”

“Trissiny,” Shaeine said serenely, “you know that I like and respect you, I trust?”

“I… Well, I suppose so,” the paladin said, frowning. “But—”

“Good. With that established, in this case, I must regretfully instruct you to shove it sideways.” Trissiny and Toby rocked back from her in unison; the rest of the group turned to stare, with the exception of Teal, who tried to cover a smile with her free hand. “It is an insult and a diminishment of our friendship that you so blithely assume we would abandon you to face such a threat,” the drow said firmly. “Do you note that every one of us immediately assumed we would accompany you? It seems to have been obvious to all except yourselves.”

“This is something we have to do,” Trissiny insisted. “It’s about what we are. There’s no reason for you guys to put yourselves in the same kind of danger.”

“Before you build up that stand-alone complex too much, let the resident bard lay a little lore on you,” Teal said. “Historically speaking, paladins rarely acted alone. And in fact, only a few gathered up followers exclusively or even mainly from within their own religions. You guys may be used to feeling isolated because there haven’t been paladins in a few decades, but most of your predecessors depended heavily on their allies. Heck, a lot of the greatest adventurer teams were built around some paladin or other.”

“But—”

“Look,” Ruda said, cutting Toby off. “We can stand here jabbering in a circle about history and responsibility and whatever other shit you wanna bring into it, but at the end, what’s goin’ down is that we are not leaving you. You can accept this with or without me needing to slap the stupid off your face, Boots, but the outcome will be the same. I don’t get the feeling we can spare the time to argue about it. Am I right?”

Trissiny sighed, looking down at the grass between them. “I just… I’ve been prepared to die since I was called. I’m a lot less prepared to be responsible for you dying.” Toby nodded agreement.

“Bullshit,” Ruda snapped. “Every one of us is capable of making our own goddamn decisions. Being a paladin may be about sacrifice, but it doesn’t give you the right to decide where anyone else spends their own lifeblood.”

“You’re our friends,” Juniper said simply. “I can’t let you do this alone, not when I could help you.”

“Hell, you guys are the only friends I’ve got,” Gabriel added, grinning. “And think about what you have here. Half-demon with wands and spells, fairy mage, dryad, archdemon, shield-specialized priestess, swordswoman with a magic-blocking weapon. This group is practically custom-tailored to beat back a demon invasion. Come on, guys, did the gods specifically tell you that you’d have to do this without help?”

Trissiny and Toby locked eyes, a silent question passing between them.

“Didn’t think so,” Gabriel said smugly. “So maybe entertain the possibility that the gods want us to help you, yeah?”

“We have not spent the last year learning to work together for nothing,” Shaeine added.

Trissiny sighed. “All right.”

“What?” Toby exclaimed. “Triss—”

“Maybe this is the bias of my own upbringing talking,” she said, “but I don’t have it in me to tell brave people they can’t fight when their conscience commands them to. That doesn’t mean I feel good about this,” she added, dragging a baleful look around the rest of the group. None of them looked remotely repentant.

“All right,” Toby said grudgingly. “I just… Augh. You’re right that we don’t have time to argue. But this leaves us in exactly the same position. No, a worse one! The whole class can’t just disappear, and those golems aren’t going to fool Tellwyrn. I bet she can see right through one.”

“If she has reason to look closely, yeah,” said Gabriel, frowning. “Tricking an archmage isn’t exactly part of my novice repertoire…”

“If you think like an arcanist, sure, that’s a tall order,” said Ruda. “That calls for a more basic kind of trickery; we just need to arrange for her to be looking in another direction. Let’s be honest, Tellwyrn is a hammer-headed brute. Surely we can work around her.”

“Once again, same position,” Toby said in annoyance. “We need somebody to actually do that for us, and if you guys all insist on being there, that won’t work. Someone has to stay behind.”

“Nah,” Juniper said brightly, “we’ll just have the sophomores do it.”

Everyone turned to stare at her.

“What?” Gabriel said finally.

“The sophomore class,” she explained. “I mean, think about it. There’s several people there who’ll help us out, for various reasons. November would do pretty much anything Triss asked of her.” Trissiny flushed again, looking away, but the dryad carried on blithely. “And she’s laid up, and she’s being difficult about it, so that’s a distraction right there. With some of the others to help, she can hold attention. I bet Natchua would help, too.”

“Natchua hates us,” Gabriel protested.

“No, she does not,” Shaeine said quietly. “Natchua is grappling with her own issues. She can be generally rather hostile, but I do not believe she harbors actual malice.”

“Not even toward you,” Juniper agreed, nodding. “I’ve actually talked with her.”

“In bed?” Ruda said resignedly.

The dryad shrugged. “Yeah. Most people are more willing to talk about personal stuff after sex, I’ve noticed. I keep meaning to ask why that is.”

“Later,” Ruda said firmly.

“Yes, right. Anyway, Natch’ll help if we ask her the right way, and Chase and the guys definitely will.”

“Whoah, hang on,” Gabriel protested. “Chase and the guys who tried to…um, y’know, get too handsy with you last semester?”

“Yeah,” Juniper said matter-of-factly. “They mostly follow his lead, and Chase was pretty accommodating even before that. Now that he knows I can give him really great sex or yank out his spine with one hand, he pretty much falls over himself to do whatever I ask.”

“Something about that is profoundly wrong,” Gabe muttered, “but I can’t quite put my finger on it.”

“If we survive this, I’ll explain it in detail,” Trissiny sighed.

“On second thought, ignorance is bliss.”

“Okay, so!” Ruda said. “We split up as soon as Tellwyrn lets us. Juno had better talk to the sophomores, since she’s the one with all the ins. Or maybe we should have Triss speak to November?” She grinned at Trissiny’s expression.

“Nah, I’ll talk to her,” said Juniper. “After that confession she’s probably too embarrassed to talk to Triss anyway. She’ll be especially eager to make amends.”

“Right,” Ruda went on. “Fross, Gabe, where can you go to work on that golem shit?”

“Our room,” Gabriel said immediately. “The lads went down to the town with the first group, so we have it to ourselves. It’s where I’ve got all my stuff anyway.”

“Except that female students can’t get into your dorm,” Teal protested.

“Nah, Fross and I work together on homework a lot anyway,” Gabriel said with a dismissive wave of his hand.

“Yeah!” Fross chimed. “Remember Tellwyrn said the sex barrier is to lower the chances of someone getting pregnant? Well, I’m nominally feminine but I don’t have a biological sex, so it doesn’t bar me.”

“Handy,” said Ruda. “We have a plan, then?”

“I wish you guys would just stay behind,” Toby muttered.

“Yeah, well, sorry. Your friends love you.” Teal grinned at him. “Life’s hard, Toby. Suck it up.”

Sound abruptly rushed in on them as their sonic barrier collapsed. They whirled in unison, finding themselves face-to-face with Tellwyrn, who still had a finger upraised from pricking their magic bubble.

“Now that we are all present and attentive,” she said dryly, “it’s time to begin heading out. The town is nearly emptied; there are just a few left to get on the zeppelins. There are Rail caravans standing by; it’ll take several trips to move all of us, but the caravans will keep coming as soon as room is made. The Empire is devoting a lot of extra resources to this, but there is only a single Rail line through the town. The situation is this: we have likely a few hours until something comes out of the portal, and according to Professor Shinhai and Miss Sunrunner, the gnagrethyct appears to have left the area. However, this is no time to be complacent. I want you in groups of no less than two at all times, and I would prefer much greater. You have half an hour to collect any necessities from your rooms and re-assemble at the campus gates. That much time should be enough to get the last of the townsfolk out and begin moving you lot and the faculty. I will be down in Last Rock attending to a few final matters.”

“Professor?” asked a junior. “What’s going to happen to the University?”

“I am not ceding my campus to whatever idiot did this,” Tellwyrn growled. “As soon as you are all safely away, I will be coming back here to close that damned hole. I’ll need help, but the Empire is surely sending strike teams at the least. Don’t you worry about that; we’ll all be back in time for graduation.”

She turned in a full circle, taking stock of those present. “All right, time’s wasting. If any of you feel the need to say last-minute goodbyes or anything else in private, tough. You should’ve emulated the freshman class, here. Get whatever stuff you urgently need and that you can’t afford to possibly lose to demons, and above all, don’t make me come get you. That, you will regret till the end of your days, I promise.”

“We’ll have to move fast, then,” Gabriel murmured.

“Yes, Mr. Arquin,” Tellwyrn said acidly. “If only you displayed such a keen grasp of the obvious in class. Alaric, you stay here and keep your eyes on that portal. If anything comes through, dissuade it. Taowi, Admestus, stay and help him in any way he requires.” She peered around at the assembled students and teachers one last time. “All right, kids, time is not on our side. Move it.”

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7 – 1

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“She’s evil!”

“Mm.”

“She’s a maniac!”

“Eh.”

“I sense a lack of solidarity, here,” Gabriel groused.

Toby finally looked up from his report, making a sardonic face. “Gabe, if you want to gripe, don’t let me stop you. Personally, I don’t find much use in it.”

“Look, we’ve had to do some crazy shit at this school,” Gabriel said, slapping his own report down on the table and narrowly missing Teal’s bowl of pudding. “But it was all craziness with a purpose.”

“You and I remember things very differently,” Trissiny murmured, still reading her own.

“Granted, the purpose was usually only apparent in hindsight, but this? It’s over now! We’re in hindsight territory, and it still doesn’t make any goddamn sense! Why the hell would she assign us a test that can’t be passed?!”

“If you think about it,” said Teal with a smile, “this whole pass/fail dynamic really only happens in academia. I see it as a good sign that Tellwyrn isn’t just teaching us how to be good students.”

“Besides, the logic of it is pretty apparent, at least to me,” Trissiny added. “It was an impossible challenge, but one that was still worth attempting. And we’re still being graded on our efforts; it’s not as if our essays were thrown to the wind.”

“I, for one, found Professor Tellwyrn’s commentary unusually insightful,” Shaeine remarked, eyes on her own report sheet. “Acerbic as always, but in depth and clearly intended to be helpful.”

“Well, I liked the assignment,” Fross added. “It was challenging!”

“It was impossible!” Gabriel complained.

“Um, yes, by definition,” the pixie replied. “It doesn’t get much more challenging than that.”

“Really, seems like only one of us is throwin’ a fit about this,” Ruda said, grinning. “Didn’t do so good, didja, Arquin?”

He huffed and folded his arms sullenly, crumpling his report in the process. “I don’t wanna talk about it.”

Ruda cackled. The others continued alternately to read over their reports and work on the remains of lunch in relative quiet. The atmosphere in the cafeteria as a whole mirrored that at the freshman table; somewhat subdued, as students studied the results of exams and finished meals, with here and there outbursts of dismay (mostly relating to the former) and exultation. Beneath the distracted quiet and the periodic upsets, there was a feeling of anticipatory excitement in the air. Classes were over, tests administered, and a few free days remained before the senior class’s graduation and the ensuing mass exodus of the student body for summer break.

“How’d you fare, then?” Gabriel pointedly asked Ruda, who had been busy eating, seemingly unconcerned with such trivialities as her grades. She had only just pushed away her empty plate and opened the folder in which her academic results waited.

“Not bad. Good marks. In Tellwyrn’s exam…huh,” she mused, studying the report sheet. “I passed.”

“Excuse me, you what?” Juniper demanded, setting down her spoon.

“What do you mean you passed?” Gabriel exclaimed. “Nobody passes the freshman history exam. That’s the point!”

“The assignment was to propose and defend a plan to achieve world peace,” Trissiny added, staring at her roommate. “If it could be done, it would have been done. How in heaven’s name…”

“Well, I got to thinking about what peace really means, and how it can be achieved,” Ruda mused, her eyes darting over her report and Tellwyrn’s commentary. “So I laid out an eleven-step plan to obliterate all sentient life on the mortal, divine and infernal planes. I got an academic award.” She turned the page. “…and a notice from Tellwyrn that I’ve been added to some kind of Imperial watch list. Neat! Wait’ll I tell Papa!”

“I desperately want to be surprised by this turn of events,” said Gabriel, shaking his head. “But…it just isn’t there.”

Trissiny grunted. “You don’t have to sleep in a room with her.”

A sudden, bone-chilling wail of agony tore through the room, catapulting students to their feet and all but physically turning them toward its source.

At the table currently occupied by the sophomore class, November Stark had bolted straight upright, howling in pain. In fact, her posture was so erect it was nearly unnatural, right up to the neck, beyond which her head lolled as if she were suspended from a noose. As everyone stared in shock, she rose still higher, till her feet left the floor.

A golden corona flickered to life around November, but an erratic, lopsided one, faltering in multiple places as if the power she was drawing on were being leeched away. In the glow, however, a shadow appeared. It was only a vague shape, but it roughly mirrored that of her own body, only larger. The discoloration, revealed where her divine glow exposed it, seemed to encase her like a cocoon, or to be trying to.

“Something’s got her!” Chase shouted, scrabbling among the silverware on the table as if looking for a weapon.

Tanq and Natchua both grabbed November by the legs, trying to pull her back down; almost immediately he went staggering back with a cry of pain. The drow gritted her teeth, clinging doggedly even as a more visible curl of shadow extended, wrapping around her upper body. All around the room, golden light sprang up as nearly every divinely-gifted student in the cafeteria called up power.

“Stop! No blessings!”

Vadrieny’s choral voice froze everyone, even as another shriek of pain tore itself from November’s throat. The archdemon flared her wings once, propelling herself forward; in a single, enormous leap, she shot across the cafeteria, planting her talons on the sophomore table and reaching out to grab November by the throat. Her enormous claws completely encircled the young woman’s neck. Vadrieny forcibly hauled November and her attacker closer, opened her mouth to fully display her complement of fangs, and screamed.

Everyone reeled backward, clapping hands over their ears; several of the elven students cried out in pain. After two seconds of the noise, the plate glass windows lining the south wall of the cafeteria shattered, followed by glasses and plates all across the room.

And then, another voice joined the screaming. Not as loud as Vadrieny’s, but somehow more terrible; it wasn’t so much a physical sound as a rending vibration through existence itself all around them.

The shadow faded to full visibility, and finally relinquished its victim. Drifting backward from the archdemon, it lost cohesion and shot upward in a cloud of smoke, vanishing into the ceiling.

Vadrieny broke off her cry, carefully catching November before the girl could fall to the ground.

“Healers!” she exclaimed, sweeping the mess of dishes and papers off the table with one clawed foot and lowering November to its surface. Natchua, who hadn’t let go the entire time, helped arrange her, quickly assisted by Hildred. Students began stepping forward through the mess of shattered crockery.

“Back up, all of you!” Professor Tellwyrn ordered, stalking forward from the cafeteria doors. “Clear a space there. Yes, that means you, Warwick. Move.”

At her furious direction, the students shifted back, making an opening near the head of the table on which November was now lying unconscious. Tellwyrn pointed there, and with a soft pop, Taowi Sunrunner materialized in the space. She had clearly been sitting down and staggered, but with characteristic elven agility regained her balance and straightened up, her eyes immediately falling on November.

“What happened?” she demanded, shooing Vadrieny and Natchua aside and bending over the fallen girl’s head.

“Gnagrethyct attack,” Tellwyrn said tersely.

Miss Sunrunner jerked her head up, staring at her in shock, but only for a split second, then was bending over November again, carefully running her fingers over the patient’s head and the sides of her neck.

“W-w-what?” Hildred croaked, ashen-faced.

“Gnagrethycts are also called priestkillers,” Tellwyrn explained, raising her voice slightly to be heard by all those present. Behind her, Vadrieny withdrew, leaving Teal looking shaken until Shaeine approached to take her hand. “They have the gift of transmuting divine and to a lesser extent other types of energy into infernal. A living insult to the Circle of Interaction. Miss Stark was extremely lucky today; about the only thing a gnagrethyct does not want to mess with is a bigger, meaner demon. All your blessings would only have killed her faster. Had Vadrieny not been here, we would be dealing with a corpse.”

“Where did it go?” demanded one of the soon-to-graduate seniors. Several students immediately directed their eyes to the patch of ceiling into which the gnagrethyct had vanished.

“A pertinent question indeed,” Tellwyrn said grimly. “I’m more curious right now about where it came from. Gnagrethycts do not bumble about the mortal plane indiscriminately. These are favored and rare servants of Elilial. There are only nine in existence—”

“Seven,” Teal interrupted.

Tellwyrn turned to stare at her, and the bard’s cheeks colored. “Um…sorry. Go on.”

“As I was saying,” Tellwyrn continued, finally tearing her piercing gaze away from Teal, “these are powerful demons which are very seldom seen. I have made my own arrangements to ensure that Elilial does not personally encroach upon this campus, which means that thing is here because one of you little bastards summoned it. And that means somebody has gotten neck-deep into something they absolutely should not have.” She panned a grim stare around the assembled student body. “Look, kids. I didn’t assemble the best and brightest destructive troublemakers in the Empire onto one mountaintop without expecting some seriously twisted shit to occur from time to time. I’m a reasonable woman—Avelea, if I turn around and see that you’ve opened your mouth—good. I’m a reasonable woman, and I’ll deal with this reasonably. Meaning, if the person responsible for this comes to me and explains what happened, how, and why, I will do what is necessary to clean it up without being a whit more vindictive than the situation absolutely demands. If, however, I have to chase down the culprit, she or he will be treated as a traitor and enemy to this campus and a threat to the students under my protection. People who fall under that description learn things about pain that none of you possess a sufficient frame of reference to adequately fear. Is that understood?”

The students stared back in silence, several unwilling to meet her icy stare.

“Yes, ma’am!” Chase said loudly, saluting. Tellwyrn gave him a sour look before turning back to the campus healer.

“Taowi, how is she?”

“Weak,” Miss Sunrunner replied immediately. She had her eyes closed and one hand resting on November’s forehead, concentrating. “No worse than that, as best I can tell. I detect only the most minor physical damage, and no infernal corruption worth noting. This is a case without precedent, Arachne; not a lot of people have been attacked by gnagrethycts, and this is the first survivor ever, to my knowledge. I will learn more when she wakes, but for now, this seems very like a bad case of mana fatigue. The best cure would be rest.”

“Good,” Tellwyrn said tersely, nodding. “Commandeer any of these layabouts for any assistance you need. Falconer! Come along, I want a word with you.”

She turned and strode toward the cafeteria’s side exit, students parting before her in silence. Teal sighed, glanced nervously back at her fellow freshmen, and followed.

Behind and around the building, everywhere except for the glass-walled (and currently unwalled) south face looking over the lawn, ran an open-sided but roofed walkway, shady and pleasantly cool in the summer weather. It was also relatively private; along the western side, it overlooked a small drop to a decorative pond, beyond which was a sunken garden and then only the exterior wall of the University grounds, separating them from a plunge to the prairie far below. Tellwyrn led the way to the halfway point of this stretch of colonnade, then turned.

She gave Shaeine, who had silently followed, a long look, then grimaced, shook her head and turned to Teal. “All right, out with it.”

Teal glanced at Shaeine and then back at Tellwyrn. “Professor?”

“Falconer, my patience for nonsense is even lower than usual at this moment. That demon of yours is supposed to be amnesiac. First I find that someone has summoned one of Elilial’s own servants onto my campus, which not just any warlock could do at the best of times. And then you start spouting specific and hitherto unknown tactical information about the forces of Hell. Believe me, if there were any record on the mortal plane of two of the gnagrethycts having been lost, I’d have heard of it. None of them have been here in six centuries. Vadrieny’s memories starting to return would be a serious concern under any circumstances. Right now, it’s officially a problem.”

Teal’s eyes had progressively widened as she spoke. She shifted her gaze to the near distance, apparently focusing inward; Tellwyrn gave her a moment of quiet, crossing her arms and drumming her fingers against her sleeve impatiently.

“She…doesn’t know,” Teal said finally. “It’s like…common knowledge. Not anything with a personal meaning attached.”

“Mm,” Tellwyrn grunted. “In fiction, retrograde amnesia which deletes personal memories while leaving general knowledge intact is a common enough plot device. In reality, that’s something that technically could happen but pretty much never does, because that is not how brain damage works. Such effects generally only occur as a result of magical manipulation, where someone imposed them deliberately. So even if Vadrieny’s memories are not starting to spontaneously return… This isn’t a good sign.”

“I understand,” Teal said seriously. “But, Professor… Even if Vadrieny’s memory came back, it’s not as if she would suddenly return fully to what she was. She and I are too integrated… And even with the restored memory of her old life, the new one isn’t nothing. I don’t think it would be as simple as her just…reverting to a destructive demon.”

Tellwyrn sighed, turned, and began to slowly stroll along the colonnade. Both girls fell into step behind her. “That’s all well and good… But I’m left with the question of just who the hell has been summoning powerful demons onto my campus. It has to be an initiate of the University itself; the geas on these grounds would stop most warlocks and alert me to any powerful enough to beat it. Initiates necessarily occupy a blind spot, as I can’t come running every time a student casts a spell around here. For the record, Teal, I do believe you. However, until this matter is cleared up one way or another, Vadrieny has to remain a suspect.”

“I get it,” Teal said softly. “I guess I’ll…work extra hard to keep away from demonic influences then.”

“That is what you should do to deflect suspicion,” Tellwyrn said slowly. “But…I’m not sure that’s the most important priority right now. If Vadrieny looks to be regaining her past, for whatever reason, it’s probably best that this happen on her own terms, and yours, rather than according to the plans of whoever sent her here.”

“I cannot believe that having Vadrieny research demonology would yield a positive result,” Shaeine said quietly.

“Not demonology,” Tellwyrn retorted with some asperity. “Demonic history, though, is another thing. I’m sure you were told the basics by the Church, but we have things in the archives here that they don’t show to people, and even a few they may not have. I’ll instruct Crystal to help you.”

“That…actually, I think that would be good for her,” Teal said slowly. “We’re doing pretty well, making friends and connections here, but it’s hard for her, having no hint of where she comes from. I mean…someone could be missing her, you know? I don’t know how they do things in Hell, but surely even demons have families.”

Tellwyrn abruptly came to a halt and pivoted to stare at her, wide-eyed. Both girls stopped, Teal’s expression growing nervous under the elf’s uncharacteristic look of shock.

“Professor?” she said uncertainly.

Tellwyrn’s voice was quiet. “You don’t…know?”

“I, uh… What don’t I know?”

“I never imagined… You spent months with the Universal Church. You were personally examined by several deities. They didn’t tell you?”

“What are we talking about?” Teal demanded.

Tellwyrn shook her head slowly, still staring at her. “Teal, I… I’m sorry. It was never my intention to keep it from you… The thought simply never crossed my mind that you hadn’t been told. The Church has buried a lot of records, but it’s not unknown. It doesn’t make sense; they had to expect you would find out sooner or later. I thought even Trissiny might know, given her upbringing…but I guess not, if you’re still in the dark. That girl can no more keep her mouth shut than she could punch the moon.”

“Professor,” Shaeine said sharply, “the dramatic suspense grows excessive.”

Tellwyrn pulled off her spectacles and polished them on her sleeve, dropping her gaze from Teal’s. “Vadrieny is a known figure, Teal. She’s been on the mortal plane before, and made quite an impression every time. I’ve not personally encountered her before you came along, but I was alive for quite a few of those incidents. We know exactly where she comes from, and who she is.”

“What?!” Teal exclaimed, stiffening. “You do? How can… Wait, the Church knows this?”

“The Church, the Wreath, the Empire… It’s sort of classified, but not very. Kept out of the general public’s eye, but any Nemitite in a central temple could probably dig up the records if you asked them.”

“How is that…” Teal trailed off and she swallowed heavily. “They never said a thing about it. Well, who is she, then?”

Tellwyrn stared at her in silence for a moment as if gathering her thoughts, then sighed and put her glasses back on. “Vadrieny is one of the seven daughters of Elilial.”

It took Teal a long few moments to close her mouth, swallow, and manage a whispered reply. “What?”

“This is beyond ridiculous,” Tellwyrn muttered, frowning into space. “Especially after you were sent here. What the hell is Justinian playing at? He can’t possibly have expected it would be kept a secret from you forever.”

“She…has a family?” Teal asked, her voice trembling. “You said seven daughters? She has sisters?”

Tellwyrn looked back at her, then closed her eyes and shook her head slowly. “Ugh… I really am the worst possible person to deliver news like this…”

“Just spit it out!” Teal snapped.

The Professor sighed. “Teal… We’ve identified all the attack sites. Seven occurred simultaneously, Vadrieny’s possession of you and six other identical attempts. You…were the only one who managed to integrate the demon.”

“No,” Teal whispered. Shaeine stepped close, wrapping an arm around her.

“I have since had personal confirmation from Elilial,” Tellwyrn said quietly. “The other girls perished. The demons, too, in the attempt. Vadrieny…is the last. I’m sorry.”

Teal pulled roughly away from Shaeine, hunching forward and clutching her head. The sound that emerged from her was not one a human throat could have produced.

“Love, please.” Shaeine said urgently. “You are not alone.”

Vadrieny emerged in a rush, claws gouging deep rents in the stone floor. Her wings fanned out behind her, barely missing Shaeine. “Please,” she rasped. “I need…just let me…”

The demon clenched her teeth, then suddenly threw back her head and let out a long wail of anguish. In the next moment, she had staggered to the side, out from under the roof, and shot skyward.

Shaeine clenched her fists at her sides. “I don’t disagree, Professor,” she said tightly. “You are the worst possible person to deliver news like that.”

Tellwyrn sighed again. “She’ll be all right.”

The drow slowly turned to stare at her. “In what possible manner do you think she will be all right?”

“Do not get snippy with me, miss. I didn’t say it would be quick or easy. But yes, she will heal. People do, you know. And she’s not alone. She’ll be less alone when she calms down enough to talk with you about it, but even now, she has Teal. I have faith in them both.”

The Professor turned and set off toward the front of the building, her forehead creased in a frown.

“You do?” Shaeine asked quietly, following. “Just moments ago you were suggesting she was guilty of summoning demons.”

“Look at it this way, Miss Awarrion: I can either have faith in Teal, or put her down like a rabid animal. Which would you prefer?” Tellwyrn shook her head. “Anyhow, as I said at the time, I don’t seriously consider them suspects in this, though they logically have to remain such on paper. Neither has the aptitude for such skullduggery. Vadrieny has always been something of a brute, and Teal… Well, I’ve rarely met a bard so straightforwardly ethical, let me put it that way.” Abruptly she stopped, lifting her head. “…do you feel that?”

The ground shook from the impact of Vadrieny landing a few feet away, in front of the cafeteria.

“Well,” said Tellwyrn, “that was fast. Feeling any—”

“No,” the archdemon said curtly, “but my problems are not the center of the universe. There’s something you need to see.” She pointed one long, curving talon skyward.

Tellwyrn stepped out from under the roof, turning and craning her head to look. Shaeine followed suit, even as she pressed herself against Vadrieny’s side, wrapping an arm around her waist. They weren’t the only ones there; students had begun to trickle out of the damaged cafeteria, several already looking upward. Most of the rest did likewise, to see what so commanded everyone’s attention.

“No,” Tellwyrn whispered. “Damn it, no.”

It was a very standard sort of day for the region—clear, but windy, with puffs of white cloud scudding rapidly across the sky. Except that now, they seemed to have halted in their course and begun to swirl around a central point directly above the University, rather like water going down a drain. The broad spiral of white vapor was already wider than the mountain, slowly revolving and shifting in size as more clouds were caught in it.

Professors Rafe and Ezzaniel stepped up next to Tellwyrn, having evidently been inside the cafeteria. Ezzaniel remained silent; Rafe muttered something in elvish.

“Yeah,” Tellwyrn agreed quietly, then placed a fingertip against her throat. In the next moment, her voice boomed across the entire mountain, audible in every room on the campus. “All students and faculty will immediately assemble on the lawn outside the cafeteria. This is an emergency. Do not use any kind of teleportation, nor attempt to access any bag of holding or other dimensional storage. There is an effect active over the mountain which makes any kind of portal magic extremely dangerous.” She removed her finger, turning to the two professors, and spoke in a normal voice. “You two, get down to the town pronto. Emilio, go to the scrolltower office and contact the Empire. Hold nothing back; we need help, immediately. Admestus, speak with Sheriff Sanders, have him pass the word on to the mayor. Last Rock needs to be evacuated. Within hours, as soon as it can be done. Go.”

“Evacuated?” Ruda demanded stridently, stomping up to her as the two men nodded and dashed off toward the stairs down the mountain. “What the fuck is the big crisis? What’s going on with those clouds? Is that swirly thing dangerous? Doesn’t look like any storm I’ve ever seen; a cyclone would be moving a hell of a lot faster and this isn’t typhoon country.”

“That swirly thing,” Tellwyrn said grimly, “is the result of air pressure equalizing across a rift between two different atmospheres. As for why it’s dangerous, Punaji, look at the expressions of any of your classmates who can sense infernal energy. That, kids, is a brand-new hellgate.”

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6 – 33

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The grate lifted seemingly on its own and Professor Ezzaniel pushed the doors open, letting in a rush of cool night air laden with the scents of earth and grass. The whole party pressed forward, and would have pushed him out of the way had he not stepped quickly aside. They straggled out and stopped, a unified sigh of relief rippling through the whole group, and all stood, faces up, savoring the coolness and the moonlight.

Only one person was there to meet them.

“Well,” said Professor Tellwyrn, planting her hands on her hips. “Well. We do very occasionally lose someone down there, but this… This is unprecedented, I must say. How exactly did you pick up gnomes?”

“She makes us sound like a case o’ hiker’s foot,” Steinway muttered to his companions.

“They were lost,” Fross reported. “In fact, there may be other things in the Crawl that aren’t supposed to be, these days. Rowe was doing something he shouldn’t in the Grim Visage, trying to get out.”

Tellwyrn raised an eyebrow. “Was? Did you ruffians kill my bartender?”

“He was alive the last we saw,” said Ruda with a leer. “He’ll probably stay that way at least a while. Melaxyna doesn’t strike me as the type to give out swift and merciful punishments.”

“You took him to…” Tellwyrn sighed heavily, rolling her eyes. “Ugh. Now I have to go trap another Vanislaad demon, or something equally sketchy. Leaving a succubus down there without competition isn’t on the table; she’d be running the place within a year. Shamlin, what the hell were you doing in my Crawl?”

“Making my fortune,” he said with a broad grin. “Oh, come on, don’t act surprised, Professor. It’s been two years; I’ve talked with every student group and faculty guide you sent. You had to know I was down there. Nice to see you again, by the way!”

“Well, here it is barely a week on, and here you lot are.” Tellwyrn adjusted her spectacles and fixed her eyes on Teal, who was carrying the long wooden box. “Only the third freshman group even to reach the objective, and you’ve absolutely destroyed the previous speed record. Let’s have a look.”

“I’m sure you already know everything, seeing as how you were here waiting,” Teal said, stepping forward as the others cleared a space. “I got a look at the apparatus in the basement of the Visage, the one that I gather students aren’t supposed to see.” She knelt, setting the box down on the grass, unlatched it, and lifted the lid. Within, in their custom-fitted grooves in the red velvet lining, lay the elven sword and dagger, gleaming lustrously under the moonlight.

Tellwyrn gazed down at them for a long few moments, her expression far away. Then, she blinked, shook herself slightly, and lifted her eyes. “Well! That’s the treasure, all right. Since you were lugging them around, Teal, may I assume the honor of the find was yours?”

“It was a group effort,” Teal said firmly. “I was the one to put my hands on them. We had to divide forces to make that happen.”

“She’s being modest,” said Gabriel, grinning. “Teal made the plans that led to us getting them at all. Fairly earned spoils, I’d say.”

“Well, I certainly cannot argue with results,” Tellwyrn said. “I’ll be reading Professor Ezzaniel’s report in detail, but frankly, you completed your assigned task with flying colors, and showed up every previous group to undertake it in the process. Unless you were transcendently stupid in your approach to every step thereof, which seems improbable, you not only receive an A, but a measure of extra credit for this. Right now, kids, I think you can consider last semester’s Golden Sea debacle obviated.”

“Yay!” Fross cheered.

“And we’ll find lodging for our guests, of course,” Tellwyrn went on, turning to the trio of gnomes, who had moved to the side with Shamlin. “I won’t send you down to the town at this hour; neither of the resident innkeepers would appreciate being roused after midnight. If you can bear with me, though, I’ll have to wake my groundskeeper and have one of the unoccupied student dorms opened up. I’m afraid they’ll be rather dusty.”

“Ma’am,” said Sassafrass respectfully, “we’ve been livin’ in the Crawl these last…what’s it been, lads?”

“Least ten months, I reckon,” said Woodsworth. “Me sense o’ time is understandably a bit off-kilter. I’d no idea it was night out.”

“Point bein’,” Sassafrass continued, grinning up at the Professor, “dust is nothing. If you can offer us a bit o’ somethin’ other than mushrooms and stringy ham, an’ a mattress not made o’ patchy leather, you’ll ‘ave gained three devoted slaves.”

“No, thanks,” Tellwyrn said with a wry smile. “The downside of slaves is having to feed them; they make expensive pets. Anyhow, I believe my hospitality can furnish a higher standard than that.”

“It’s a real honor to meet you, by the way,” Steinway said, grinning broadly.

“Yes, I’m sure. As for you.” Tellwyrn leveled a finger at Shamlin. “You may as well stay the night, too, though I’ll be wanting a prolonged word with you before you skitter off.”

“Uh oh,” he said, grinning.

“All right, that’s enough for now,” the elf went on briskly. “It’s an altogether ungodly hour and I have class in the morning. You lot are excused from tomorrow’s classes, of course, but that’s all the time you’ll have to reset your biological clocks. Education waits for no one.”

“Oh, come on,” Juniper protested. “You thought we’d be down there for three weeks! We should get some time off.”

“Juniper,” Tellwyrn said, staring at her over her glasses, “what have I told you about whining?”

“Um…well… Actually, nothing.”

“Mm hm. Would you like to hear my opinions about whining?”

The dryad crept backward a half step. “Actually, now that I think about it, no.”

“Good. All right, off with you. Emilio, have time for a cup of tea with me before retiring?”

“I’m just beginning my day, Arachne,” Ezzaniel said amiably. “I don’t look forward to classes next week. The young can spring back from these sleep cycle disruptions so much more quickly.”

“I have faith in you. Shamlin, the Wells is currently empty. I know you know where that is. Kindly escort our guests there, and I’ll send Stew along to spruce it up for you.”

“Oh, my,” said the bard, grinning. “But Professor, that’s a girls’ dorm!”

“When there are girls in it, yes,” Tellwyrn said acidly. “I’ll just have to trust you not to impregnate the dust bunnies. Move along, Shamlin.”

“Your wish is my command!” he proclaimed, bowing extravagantly. Tellwyrn snorted at him and strode off, Ezzaniel prowling along beside her.

“Welp, it’s been a right pleasure adventurin’ with you kids,” said Woodsworth.

“Aye,” Sassafrass agreed, “you be sure to pay us a visit before we ‘ave to head out.”

“Count on it,” said Toby with a smile.

They stood in silence, breathing in the clean night air and watching the other two groups vanish around corners into the shadows of the campus.

“Well,” Ruda said at last, “who woulda figured it was midnight?”

“I think I’ve had enough of being underground forever,” Juniper muttered. “No offense, Shaeine.”

“None was offered, even by mistake,” Shaeine replied, smiling. “I doubt I would fare well in your home, either.”

“Actually,” said Fross, “Crawl excursions are kind of a big deal at this school. We’ll probably have at least one a year. Maybe one a semester from now on.”

Juniper groaned.

“Here’s what I’m thinkin’,” said Gabriel. “The pubs down in the town are closed, and our dorms are spelled to keep out the opposite sex. But since we’re all awake, and we’ve been subsisting on Crawl food for a week…” He grinned wickedly. “Who’s up for raiding the cafeteria?”

“That is extremely out of bounds!” Fross said shrilly. “It violates multiple school rules as well as personal directives given out by Professor Tellwyrn, Stew, and Mrs. Oak! We could get in so much trouble, especially since we’re supposed to be going to bed!”

“Well,” Ruda began.

“So,” the pixie continued, “you’d better let me go ahead and scan for detector charms. Gabe, I may need your help with the locks!”

Chiming exuberantly, she buzzed off in the direction of the cafeteria.

“Well, blow me down,” Ruda said in wonder. “They really do grow up fast, don’t they?”


 

“I know how many of us suffer, day by day,” Branwen said. Her voice and expression were painfully earnest; the magical spotlight illuminating her was an expensive piece of spellwork that made her easily visible to anyone looking, as if she were standing right in front of them. The charm that made her words echo throughout the grand auditorium was a more conventional piece of magic. “The sad thing about the trials in everyone’s lives is how they can disconnect us, how they can distract us, encourage us to retreat into ourselves and become fixated upon our own problems. It creeps right up on you, doesn’t it? But if you look around you, at the people here tonight, at the people you pass on the street every day, even at the people you love, people you work with… Each time, you are passing another whole story, someone with his or her own struggles. They are different struggles than yours, but no one’s challenges are less important. What you should mourn is not that you face challenges, but what they can cost you, without you even realizing it. It’s the saddest thing in the world, not to see another’s pain.

“Because it’s in those challenges that we have our greatest opportunities. It’s in the connections we can form with our fellow human beings that we may find the simplest solutions.” She smiled, an expression so brimming with optimism and love that Darling, as a fellow artist working in the medium of facial features, found himself in awe of her mastery. Awed, and wondering just how deep those waters ran, considering her well-established facade of pretty uselessness. “It is natural that we should look upward, to the gods, in our most troubled times. But we must be careful. That can lead to despair when solutions do not come down to us from the gods. And that despair is a trick, played on us by our own minds. It’s not what the gods can give us, but what they have given us, that matters.”

She placed a hand over her own heart, a gesture that was totally innocent and yet drew attention right to her impressive bosom. The plain Bishop’s robes she wore, with the pink lotus pin of Izara at the shoulder, were far more carefully tailored than those of her colleagues, emphasizing her voluptuous figure in a manner that was just subtle enough not to be called out upon, while still pushing the envelope of ecclesiastical dignity.

“Each of the gods stands for something which they have bestowed on the world for our use. To cry out to them to solve our problems for us is missing the point of these precious gifts. The gods have given us the means to raise ourselves up. They ask that we have faith in them, because they have faith in us!” Her expression stayed solemn, though her eyes were alight with passion. “The gods believe in you. I believe in you. Whatever you face in your life, I know you can rise to meet it. You must believe in you!”

The mostly-silent crowd stirred at that, a smattering of applause and hushed voices rising up. It was a bit more exuberant than the last such; Branwen was working this audience with absolutely masterful skill. Darling had seen this done before, many a time, in his observations of religious ceremonies. There was a rhythm to it, a familiar pattern. It would be a while yet before she built it to its climax. Tonight’s festivities had only just begun.

He tore his gaze from Branwen to look around the darkened theater. She’d drawn quite a crowd, with the full resources of the Church and every major newspaper in the Empire pushing her forward to fame. The place was full of the hoi palloi thronging the cheap seats below, the slightly more upscale classes in the balconies and the wealthy few occupying boxes like himself. The arrangement tickled at his mind. It somehow seemed very appropriate to have used a commercial theater for this address rather than the Cathedral.

“Damn, but she makes a good speech,” Embras Mogul remarked, dropping heavily into the seat next to Darling and stretching out his long legs. “Fills out that robe quite exquisitely, too, doesn’t she? I have to say, that was a genius move on Justinian’s part. I wonder how long he’s been grooming her for this? Doubtless the lady has her own ambitions, but his Holiness doesn’t strike me as the type to catapult one of his underlings into power without spending a good long while sculpting them first.”

Darling was aware that he was staring, and didn’t bother to stop. “Well,” he said finally. “You’re not quite the last person I expected to see tonight, but… If Scyllith pops in here, too, I may just have to check outside and see if the world has ended.”

“If you encounter Scyllith under any circumstances, I think that’s a worthy concern,” Mogul said, grinning broadly.

“To what do I owe the honor, Embras?”

“Oh, this’n that. I thought you might be missing your tracking charm.” Mogul’s spiderlike fingers deposited a small metal object on the arm of Darling’s chair. It had been badly scorched and bent nearly in half. “Somehow it ended up under my collar. Funny, the way these little things wander off, isn’t it?”

“You said it,” Darling said easily, picking up the destroyed charm and making it vanish up his sleeve. “I owe you one, old man. I tore my whole study apart last night looking for this.”

“I don’t doubt it.” Mogul crossed his legs, lounging back in the plush chair. Below them, Branwen continued to soliloquize, but neither man spared her a glance. “After our little game of tag yesterday, I found myself mulling over your motivations.”

“I’m flattered!”

“And I’m curious. Here’s a man clearly playing both ends against the middle. Or all three ends, or more. The point is, you’re balancing far too many loyalties to be truly loyal to all of them.”

“It does seem to keep people on their toes,” Darling agreed solemnly.

“Loyalty, now, people don’t generally understand how that works,” Mogul mused. “It’s a lot less important than they think. What matters is motivations, those are what lie at the root of loyalties, and everything else. So I got to wondering, and decided to arrange a little test.” He leaned away from Darling and angled his body toward him so he could spread his arms wide. “Thus, here I am! The big, bad leader of the Black Wreath, sitting not a foot away, in a theater just crawling with the Church’s agents. A golden opportunity for you to raise the cry and try your luck at cutting off the snake’s head, so to speak!”

“This speech has the smell of an approaching ‘but’ about it,” Darling said wryly.

“Oh, I dunno,” Mogul replied, grinning broadly. “Or at least, that is what we’re here to find out, isn’t it? After all, you’d be pitting the assembled powers of the Church against whatever I have prepared to come to my aid, which you just know is gonna be something nasty. Obviously I’m a powerful player and I wouldn’t have come here unless I were pretty confident of my chances. On the other hand, Justinian wouldn’t have placed his newest, prettiest pet in such an easily shootable position without ample protections at the ready. Sounds to me like a pretty close contest! The only thing that makes it complicated…” He leaned forward, crossing his arms on the box’s low wall, and peered down at the rapt crowd below. “…are aaaallll those innocent people, just waiting to be pulverized in the crossfire. Priests and demons and the gods know what else, running amok in a crowded theater. Why, it fairly scalds the imagination, doesn’t it?”

“Innocent people.” Darling chuckled darkly, turning his gaze back to Branwen. “We both know there’s no such animal.”

“That a fact?” Mogul leaned back again. “Why not kick off the festivities, then, Antonio? Unless you’re bothered by the thought of unleashing hell on their heads.”

“Have you learned nothing about the modern world from this little campaign?” Darling said mildly, gesturing at Branwen. “Everything’s connected. There are a lot of reasons beyond the moral not to start a fire in a crowded theater.”

“Yes, and we could discuss in detail why the Church doesn’t need to worry about those matters, but that would be a tediously long back-and-forth and quite frankly, I believe we’re done here. At any rate, I’ve got what I came for.” Mogul smiled at him, a thin, smug expression. “So there is a core of decency motivating you, old fellow. Well, I must say, that is…fascinating.”

“I’ll be honest, this kind of gloating seems beneath you,” Darling remarked. “You can’t possibly be that bored. Are you really that sore about losing out to the Archpope on this project? I’m sure your pet columnists would have been valuable and all, but just look at her! Isn’t she adorable? A gift to the world, if you ask me.”

“Losing out,” Mogul mused, raising his eyebrows. “Maybe you can clarify that for me. I have a respected journalist setting out to present my perspective to the world. I have that bosomy little piece speaking what amounts to secular humanism, mortal ambition and self-empowerment—all the things the Wreath stands for. And frankly I have to admit she does make a better mouthpiece than anything I had lined up to do the job, and with the Church’s own credibility behind her, too! The people of this city and the Empire have begun questioning the line of divine bullshit they’ve been fed from the cradle. The cults that pose the greatest threat to me have lost face, while that scheming spider Justinian has gained power, and don’t even pretend you fully understand what he aims to do with it. So, what is it, exactly, that I have lost? I confess the point escapes me.”

“You know, I am trying to watch a speech. If you want to exchange taunts, we can do that in the heat of battle sometime. Butting in like this is rather rude.”

“Why, you are absolutely right.” Mogul stood, swept off his hat and bowed deeply. “My most sincere and humble apologies, Antonio. You enjoy the rest of the evening, now. It’s a great speech.”

“See you later, Embras,” Darling said, waving languidly at him, his face already turned back toward Branwen.

Mogul didn’t even try to move silently and didn’t shadow-jump out, simply pacing back to the curtained door of the box, whistling. Darling listened to him leave, ignoring Branwen for now. With his back to the warlock’s exit, he permitted his features to fall into a grim scowl.


 

Midnight had long passed and the moon was drifting toward the horizon when the doors to the Crawl eased open again. A wary, slate-gray face peered out, glancing left and right, before pushing them wider. The figure who stepped forth was followed by two others, all looking around in blended wonder and nervousness.

“Just as he said,” the lone male whispered in the subterranean dialect of elvish.

“We will go directly,” said the woman in the lead. “There are sure to be wards and defenses, and we are not out for a fight. Stay low, and—”

The soft pop was the only warning they got.

“Right on schedule,” Professor Tellwyrn said grimly, stepping out of thin air. “Congratulations! Most of your compatriots aren’t dumb enough to try this. You get the rare honor of being an example.”

The three drow had fallen to their knees before her as soon as she spoke.

“Arachne,” the second woman said breathlessly. “We’ve—”

“I don’t think I like hearing that from you,” Tellwyrn interrupted. “Well, the good news is, with Rowe’s nonsense at an end, it shouldn’t be too hard to find and plug whatever hole you lot are creeping out of. I do not need drow in my Crawl, except the ones I send in myself. Hm,” she added thoughtfully, frowning. The three kneeling elves flinched. “Now, there’s an idea. A Scyllithene priestess would be a worthy check on Melaxyna’s ambitions. If, that is, I could find one of a modest enough nature not to be an excessive pest. Doesn’t seem likely.”

“We are both priestesses of Scyllith,” the second drow woman said eagerly, not seeing or ignoring her companion’s frantic expression of warning. “I would be—”

“Well, not you, obviously,” Tellwyrn said with a grimace.

The flames were brief, lasting only a split-second, but more intense than the interior of a blast furnace while they burned. In the darkness and quiet after they had vanished, Tellwyrn dismissed the invisible shield over her and brushed drifting ash from her sleeves. A circular patch had been scoured completely clean just in front of the Crawl’s entrance, the upper layers of dirt melted to a puddle of still-steaming glass. It was rapidly hardening, cracking as it did so, the energy of the fire having been removed far more swiftly than simple physics would allow. Nothing was left, not even skeletons. They had not even had time to scream.

“Stew is going to gripe about this for weeks,” Tellwyrn remarked, wrinkling her nose at the hardening glass. “Ah, well. He loves griping.”

She stepped around the burned area to the doors, pushing them carefully shut, then paused. The Professor laid a hand against the dark wood for a moment, smiling fondly, before turning and setting off to wake the groundskeeper for the second time that night.


 

“Good evening, your Grace,” Price said serenely, taking his coat. “I trust the presentation was enjoyable?”

“Good morning, Price,” he said, yawning. “The presentation was fine, as propaganda shows go. I never object to staring at Branwen. Then I had to go to the Intelligence office and the Church and report on more Wreath nonsense. Brandy, please.”

“Of course,” said Price. “Your Grace has a guest, waiting in the downstairs parlor.”

“I have a— It has to be one o’clock in the morning!”

“Yes, your Grace,” she said calmly. “The Crow appears generally unconcerned with such trivialities.”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake,” he muttered, stalking off toward the parlor.

“Ah, Antonio,” Mary said as he entered. She was sitting on the back of his favorite chair, her feet perched on one of its armrests, nibbling one of Price’s scones. “It seems I picked a poor moment to leave the city on business. You managed, though, did you not?”

“Mary, it’s an absolutely stupid hour of the morning and I’m exhausted. What do you want?”

She tilted her head. “You are unusually tetchy. I’m accustomed to seeing you more smooth under pressure. Was it really that stressful?”

“If by it, you mean the grand cavalcade of stalking and violence you missed, then no. It was actually rather fun. But I’ve just had my nose rubbed in it by the Wreath’s mortal head and had to explain all this twice, to two separate groups of superiors, so yes, I’m damn well tetchy. Even more so now that I find myself again having to repeat. What do you want, Mary?”

“Merely to discuss events,” she said, hopping lightly to the floor. “I waited, as I’ve found you generally amenable to holding late hours, but if you are unduly stressed I can return tomorrow. Would you like me to ease your weariness before I go?”

“Thank you, no,” he grumbled. “But do you happen to know a time travel spell? What I would like is to go back about a week and a half and warn myself not to get into it too closely with Embras bloody Mogul.”

“As I should hardly have to remind a Bishop of the Church,” she said evenly, “messing with time travel is an extraordinarily bad idea. Vemnesthis punishes such infractions without mercy. Even I don’t aggravate the gods in person. You might ask Arachne.”

“It was a joke,” he said wearily. “The last damned thing I need is Tellwyrn anywhere near anything I’m trying to do.”

Mary studied him in silence for a moment. “What happened?” she asked, her voice more gentle. “You are rattled. I confess it’s a little disconcerting, coming from someone so self-assured.”

“Yes, well, circumstances and other people’s bullshit I can cope with just fine,” he said. “Ah, thank you, Price.” Darling tossed back the proffered brandy in one gulp, then set the glass back on her tray. “It’s more disappointing when I screw up. I’ve been going about this all wrong, sneaking around, playing the thief against the Black Wreath. It’s been mentioned often enough lately—hell, I’ve had reason to comment that Eserites and Elilinists think very much alike. I should never have tried to match them at their own game.”

“Is that not also your game?” Mary asked mildly.

“Yes, and that would be the problem,” he said, striding past her to the window, where he pulled aside the curtain and glared out at the dark street. “The whole reason the Empire has done so well militarily is its doctrine of asymmetrical warfare. Not just the Strike Corps utilizing the Circles of Interaction to advantage, but leveraging different kinds of assets against different enemies. Hit them where they’re weakest. The Guild against the Wreath is just…attrition. For all the Church’s resources, Justinian is a schemer, too. He and Vex have been doing the same thing. We’re never going to get anywhere if we keep obliging their love for skullduggery.”

“What, then?” Mary inquired. “If the Empire were able to pin down the Wreath and use its military power against them, it would have done so long since.”

“I can pin them down,” he said. “Next time, I am going to hit the bastards with sheer overwhelming force.”

“You don’t have overwhelming force,” she pointed out.

He turned from the window, grinning broadly at her, a predatory expression that was not meant to be pleasant. Mary, unsurprisingly, seemed totally unimpressed, which didn’t bother him.

“I cannot fathom why people keep saying things like that to me,” he said. “New strategies or not, I’m still a priest of Eserion. When I need something, I’ll take it.”

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