The soles of his shoes skidded on the polished brown stone of the balcony. His backpack thumped against his shoulders. Olivia and Tori landed on either side of him.

  Saul straightened, and took an oven rod in hand. Rult leaped down from his backpack, imbued with the acrobatics of a small cat, despite his leonine appearance. Now to find out if the other powers Saul had built into him worked.

  “Where is the hilt?” Saul asked.

  “By the world gate. Two floors up.”

  “Nat?”

  “It’s too bright out here, Saul.”

  “Right.” Saul walked toward the curtained doorway that lead into the tower. He pulled the curtain aside.

  White light poured from within the tower, beaming like a cold sun. Saul shielded his eyes against a beacon brighter than daylight that flooded the room beyond the doorway. He scowled. “Nat.”

  “There aren’t any shadows on this floor that I can sense, and none on the higher levels large enough to support a teleport.”

  “Well great.” Saul turned from the curtain.

  “What is that light?” asked Olivia.

  “No idea.” Saul blinked as he tried to get his vision back to normal.

  Tori peered at the curtain, which blocked the light completely where it covered the doorway. “Someone knew you were on your way.”

  “Irene.” Saul clenched one fist. “She must have told them about Nat.”

  Olivia squinted in through the edge of the doorway. She frowned. “Guys. There’s someone in there.”

  “Can you tell who?”

  “It’s tough to see, but a man, I think. Kinda heavy.”

  Saul adjusted his backpack, then took off his torn and ragged jacket. The dark colored shirt he wore beneath was now missing a few buttons, and had tears in the sleeves and shoulder. None of that would matter once Saul got the hilt, so it didn’t matter now. He draped the jacket over his head, so it hung down a bit over his forehead.

  “Nat, expand the shadow of my jacket.”

  “I won’t be able to use a weak shadow like that to teleport.”

  “I know, but we need to be able to see once we get in there. Give us some shade.”

  “Yes, Saul.”

  Shadows stretched from the jacket, dimming the light that filtered from the sides of the curtain. The difference was slight outside the building, beneath the clouds of smoke. Saul hoped it would be effective going up against the light bright as a sun that shined from the inside of the tower.

  “That’s the best I can do.”

  “Alright.” Saul turned to Tori.

  She pulled aside the curtain and folded it against one side of the archway. Saul blinked in the blazing white incandescence from within the room. Assisted by Nat’s shadows, Saul looked into the heart of the light.

  The light originated from the body of a stocky man with a beer gut and wearing a tight-fitting white undershirt. He sat cross-legged between four columns in the center of the tower’s single huge room.

  Those columns provided the only inner shadows that allowed Saul to see what little he could. Every part of the man’s clothes and skin and even the little hair he had radiated luminous beams. Saul squinted at the man’s face, trying to pick out features. He could not decipher them.

  “Saul Burton, you are one persistent bloke,” said the man in a British-accented voice Saul recognized.

  Saul’s stomach leaped with hope. “You’re part of Luther’s team.”

  “Right you are. Call me William. See, that’s my name.”

  Olivia stepped into the archway close to Saul. She held her cattle prod in one hand. Her other arm hung straight down at her side. Saul suspected that made it faster to access the small taser concealed in that sleeve.

  Tori walked into the room on Saul’s other side.

  William laughed. “Saul, you’ve found some friends. Good for you. Bad for them.”

  “Shut your mouth, glow-bug. You think you can keep us down?” One of Tori’s sleeves extended and lashed against the floor.

  “My light seems to be doing a good job of that.” William chuckled. “I suppose I’ll have to finish the job, though.”

  “You can’t fight all three of us,” said Olivia.

  “I am curious to see if that’s true.” William unfolded his legs and stood on the polished, gleaming floor of the tower. His every movement was easy and languid, despite his unhealthy girth. He motioned toward the walls.

  From outside the view allowed by Nat’s extended shadows, a mechanical whine emanated. Saul closed his eyes and tried to feel for presence outside of his sight but there was nothing. “Don’t stand in our way.” His hand fell onto the handle of an oven rod.

  Saul’s eyes flew open. Tori’s sleeve whipped out. Olivia raised a taser and took aim.

  William laughed out loud. Light began to dim in a cube around his head, a square-edged halo of darkness. Then a flicker of stark whiteness shot from somewhere above William’s head toward Saul. In the same moment, William threw himself to one side.

  The lance of pure light streaked into Saul’s field of view, erasing his vision as it passed into Nat’s shadows. His jacket sizzled and grew hot. Saul threw off his backpack, and then tossed the ignited coat upward with one hand, accepting the inevitable loss of the clarifying shadows. He lunged into the blinding light, oven rod in hand.

  The sound of springs was followed by a click of the tines as Olivia’s taser shot hit the stone floor. Tori’s footsteps raced alongside Saul to the last spot they had been able to see William. He made a guess and thrust out with the oven rod, not powering it with his spark. He was rewarded with resistance, an impact.

  William grunted and shoved back against the end of the oven rod. Saul trickled a bit of spark into the rod. He didn’t like the idea of killing someone, even one of Luther’s people, but at the moment, the rod was his only weapon. Flesh burned with a bitter scent. Heat flooded back on Saul’s hand, but not enough to hurt. William screamed and pulled away, but too late.

  The illumination that filled the room flickered then dimmed and shrank to natural lamplight and shadows. Saul blinked as his eyes adjusted. Tori stopped by his side. Olivia replaced the wires in her taser behind them.

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  William clutched at his arm and glared at Saul, with surprisingly unburnt eyes. The bare skin on the bicep, where Saul had hit with the oven rod was blackened in a circle around the point of impact, but the heat had not spread like it usually did. Somehow William had resisted the heat invasion that would have killed him. He panted for breath, eyes hazy with pain.

  “Nice trick,” said Saul. “What are you?”

  “You can’t tell I’m a mage?” William snorted a laugh. “Transmuting darkness to light. Diffusing heat to survive your blow?”

  “I never studied exile magic in depth. Sorry.”

  “Then you don’t know the truth about making new worlds.” William looked down at his charred bicep. “This is nothing compared to the pain you’ll suffer.” His eyes bulged. Tendrils of angry red crawled across the skin of the man’s forehead, diverging jaggedly, like electricity leaping through air. His breathing became heavy.

  Olivia shouted, “Saul, out of the way.”

  Saul stepped toward Tori. Olivia launched her taser shot at William’s shaking form. The exile mage took the blast of electricity straight between the brows. He grinned as the red lines etched down his face, and neck, and began to shine through the thin material of his shirt. William plucked the sparking tines of the taser from his forehead.

  “This is nothing.” He surged past Saul, so fast his form seemed to blur.

  Saul pivoted on the spot and thrust at the already empty air with his oven rod. Tori shouted in warning. He whirled around.

  William’s open fingers raked across Olivia’s midsection, tearing through the shirt and her midriff. She brought the handle of her cattle prod down on his head. He only grinned at the impact. His whole face turned red, burning bright. Red droplets of blood sprinkled from her bloody stomach. William’s fist shot out toward Olivia. She cried in pain and staggered backward, away from the oncoming blow.

  Tori’s sleeve wrapped around William’s wrist. He snarled and threw his shoulder into Olivia’s chest. The blow threw her back against the a column by one of the lamps. She fell onto her side with a groan and dropped her cattle prod. Saul raced to interpose himself between William and Olivia.

  The red-faced man struggled with Tori’s sleeve. The child-fabric was slowly giving in to his strength. Saul fell into a crouch between William and Olivia. The man’s eyes blazed white.

  “He’s coming at you, Saul.” Tori’s sleeve unwrapped from William’s wrist.

  William launched himself at Saul, falling to all fours as he barreled forward. Saul reached inside for the spark and found only a trickle of stored energy. The fingers on William’s bloody left hand spread out wide. Saul ducked the swipe and threw his shoulder into William’s face. The fat berserker’s nose crunched. His other fist came down on Saul’s temple.

  The room spun around Saul. He fell to his knees before William. Wet trickles leaked down his face. Saul glared up at William. A grin crossed the man’s pudgy crimson features. He raised his left hand like an animal’s claw.

  A knife-blade emerged point-first from his palm. William froze for a moment, hand still raised. Saul gritted his teeth and surged at William’s legs. Right, tackle the super strong bastard. Great idea.

  William lost his balance and tumbled backward. Saul let him go. Tori was at Saul’s side. He looked back toward Olivia. She gazed up at him, one hand clutching her bleeding stomach, and shook her head. She could die from the blood loss. No way is that happening. Saul nodded to Olivia, not wanting to give anything away to William. The man got to his feet a few yards away.

  “Tori,” Saul said. “Let’s take this guy.”

  “If you say so, man.” Her eyes moved up to his temple. “You got your bell rung.”

  “I’ll be fine. We just need to get to the world gate before Luther leaves.”

  William’s grin seemed plastered against his red cheeks. “You’ll be late for that. But he’s more important that you, anyway.”

  “The door man.” Saul’s mind raced as he realized he needed to keep the red man talking. “Why does he need you, William?”

  “I’m his muscle. Luther prefers not to dirty his hands.”

  “You have any idea what he wants the hilt for?”

  “Same thing as everyone else,” said William. “He wants a new universe.”

  “Why?”

  William shook his head. “You’ll have plenty of time to figure that out once this is over, boy. At least, if you give up now.”

  Olivia coughed from behind Saul.

  “Looks like that girl of yours won’t be so lucky.” William turned his back on them. “If you’re smart, this is goodbye.”

  Saul’s hands shook, out of control. He lost his grip and dropped his oven rod. The spark in him ignited from his rage. Saul leaped toward William’s exposed back. The oven rod clattered to the floor behind him.

  William’s backhand sent him sprawling sideways so he skidded along the floor. Saul lay on his side, groaning. So much for my soup. Now I just have to hope my back isn’t broken. He thought of the vials of temper sap in his backpack and prayed they were intact as well. William roared a laugh and began to walk away toward the far corner of the room.

  “Goodbye to the three of you.”

  Saul watched as Tori hesitated with her coiled, whip-like sleeves. She didn’t strike. William left Saul’s field of vision. His footsteps receded. Saul listened to him climbing the stairs to the Lord’s Chambers.

  He grunted, then forced himself to sit up.

  Nat wriggled his way out of Saul’s collar in the lamplight. “Are you alright?”

  “Not exactly.” Saul leaned forward over is legs.

  Rult ran up to him and put his front paws against Saul’s leg. “Maker, the hilt is moving.”

  “Where is it going?”

  “Toward the world gate. But it’s not there yet.”

  “We have to go.” Saul’s spine protested painfully, but he stood anyway. He limped over to where his backpack lay on the floor. “Look.” His adrenaline began to fade. “We need to help Olivia.”

  Tori glanced at Saul. “How do we do that? She’s cut bad.”

  “I think I can handle it.” Saul unzipped his backpack and found the case with the temper sap. He ran his fingers over the initials engraved on the top, JAN, grandfather’s name. He unlatched the lid of the container. Three vials, one empty, but none broken, greeted him.

  Saul limped toward Olivia. He slumped down beside her. Her eyes were closed. Strands of dark hair haloed her head. Blood pulsed from her belly, but breath still swelled her chest. He unscrewed the lid of a vial of temper sap. It might not work as well for someone without the spark, but he had to try.

  His hands trembled. He dipped his finger into the sap and felt its stickiness. Saul pulled back Olivia’s coat from where it had closed over her wound. Her shirt beneath the coat had been shredded and stained with blood. Saul rubbed sap around the edges of the cuts first. Olivia gasped a breath. As flesh regrew, Saul moved toward the center. His hand ran with mingled sap and blood that ran over dried clay. He worked, heedless until the wound was closed.

  He sat back on the stone of the floor and then used the last dregs of the vial to close the wound on his temple. Olivia’s eyes opened and she sat up. Tori raised her hand. “Woah, woah. You’re pretty hurt.”

  “Not anymore,” said Saul. “Except for the blood loss, I think I got the worst of it.”

  Olivia’s gaze moved to his face. One hand moved down to her belly, where William had torn a hole in her shirt. Her fingers tested the skin under the tear. “What did you do?”

  “I used my temper sap to seal your wound.”

  “Temper sap?”

  “I’ll explain once we get the hilt.” He offered her a hand, and then helped her get to her feet.

  She picked up her cattle prod and ran a finger over the handle of the electric weapon. “Crap. The casing cracked.”

  Saul’s back ached. “Let’s hope that’s the worst of the damage left.”

  Tori folded her arms, long sleeves trailing. “Are you two gonna be ready to fight?”

  “Sure, I’m ready. But let’s hope your people on the boat catch up soon.”

  Her nose wrinkled as she led the way past where the remains of Saul’s jacket smoldered on the floor. Thin trails of bitter smoke rose from the charred threads. “I don’t like to see good clothes go to waste.”

  He snorted. “I guess you wouldn’t, clothmaker.”

  She smirked at him. “I don’t mind seeing some of what was under it, though.”

  Their gazes met for a moment. Her smirk remained. Saul’s face grew hot.

  Olivia grunted from behind them. “Let’s go. We need to stop Luther.”

  “Right. Luther. And Tori, the city lord is probably up there.”

  “If he works with people who brought all these gern to Mortressa, he really deserves a fall.”

  “Good thing we’re near the top of the tower.”

  “Bad for him.” Tori walked to the staircase behind a series of columns on one side of the central room, where William had climbed up. Saul picked up his fallen oven rod and followed her, with Olivia close behind.

  The steps were polished black stone, placed to circle upward along the side of the tower. A smell of burnt hair wafted down from above. Saul’s eyes narrowed, but he couldn’t sense any gern’s presence up there. As they climbed, Saul tried to keep his back straight. He clutched his oven rod tight as they approached the door to the next level up.

  Tori leaned against the wall by the arched doorway and peered into the room beyond. Saul wished he had a pigeon to see through. He looked down at Rult, who stood, sniffing the air nearby. “Is the hilt up there?”

  “Yes, very close now.” The little lion’s tone turned eager. “What are we waiting for?”

  “Tori, is anyone watching the door?”

  “Not that I can see.”

  Saul glanced at Olivia. She glared past him toward the doorway. Her cattle prod rested on her shoulder. The blood from her wounds did not appear to have touched her coat. The cloth remained a pale gray.

  “What are you looking at?”

  “Just making sure you’re ready.”

  “I am ready, Saul.”

  He turned to the doorway. A crack of thunder came from the world gate. He took a deep breath. “Let’s go.”