There are two ways to fortify ?ther channels. One is through diligent training that strengthens all elements equally over time. This is a slow process that ties into the regular maturation of the channels and thus only allows for an increase of around four ranks over an entire lifetime. The second method involves sacrificing the ability to channel some elements to the benefit of others. In the most extreme case, where four elements are sacrificed to strengthen a single dyad, one roughly gains two ranks in the chosen dyad for every one lost in the fourteen others.

  Excerpt from 'Introduction to the Workings of Magic'

  Guard-captain Dovell Messchiel of the Royal Guard abruptly halted as a distant rumble reached his ears, causing one of his men to narrowly avoid crashing into him. What was that? He peered into the distance to where the sound had originated.

  “I think it came from the White Candle,” Nissek, his second in command, said as he stared in the direction of the tower.

  “I'm certain it came from the White Candle,” Dovell replied.

  He had been expecting this. From the day he had heard about the White Candle guild's disappearance, he knew that something was going to happen. It was the reason his lance—six men strong—was patrolling here in the Amber Quarter, rather than being back at the Winged Keep with the rest of the Royal Guard.

  “Fifth Lance. Move out at double pace.”

  It was well past dusk and the streets were mostly empty as a result. The Amber Quarter was home to the wealthiest people in Rios. As such, the streets were properly paved and the lampposts were always diligently lit by channellers of the Ministry of Transportation.

  The few people they did encounter all quickly jumped aside as Fifth Lance sped past them, angry or confused looks on their faces as the men took little care to avoid them. Dovell himself almost crashed into a man carrying a small barrel, only sidestepping at the last moment and brushing forcibly past him, causing the man to lose his balance and drop his load.

  The crack of breaking wood echoed through the otherwise quiet evening, but Dovell did not stop or even look back. Being bumped into by one of the Royal Guard might turn out to be the least to happen to you this night, Dovell thought grimly. All that mattered right now was reaching the White Candle as soon as possible.

  When they finally reached Candle Square, they found it completely deserted. An initial survey of the White Candle itself revealed nothing out of the ordinary. There were no strange noises or smells, and the tall white marble tower looked the same as it always did, standing solemnly in the pale moonlight of the Light and the Dark Moon.

  “Fifth Lance, halt,” Dovell said, just before entering the plaza. He gestured a command.

  Immediately, his men fanned out and found cover: a low garden wall, a porch, an empty vendor's stall. Dovell himself, however, remained standing, out in the open. He carefully observed the tower's main entrance.

  The large, solid double door was closed. Only the two small lamps at the ends of the railings flanking the flight of steps were lit. The rest of the low hill on which the White Candle stood was dark, like most of the square in front of him. None of the lampposts on the plaza were lit, not even the one that normally lighted the bottom step of the stairs that led up to the main entrance.

  Dovell was beset by suspicion. There is nobody here. That's not right.

  Over the past few days, he had passed Candle Square several times. Every single time, at least one Callium member had stood in front of the main entrance, regardless of the hour. Typically, Callium had seized the opportunity to promote its standing with the citizenry. Its continuous, visible presence at the White Candle, with its men in their distinctive orange robes, was an important part of that. Yet there were no Callium members to be seen right now.

  He took a couple of steps forward. “Hello! Is anyone there? This is Guard-captain Dovell Messchiel from the Crown's Royal Guard.” His voice echoed across the empty square. “I need to speak to any member of Callium. It is urgent.”

  There was no response.

  Dovell stood silently for a few moments more, focusing on the main entrance. Its doors did not open, nor did anyone appear from elsewhere.

  Something is definitely wrong here.

  His gaze wandered towards the sides of the tower. The low hill on which the tower was seated was covered with low brush, causing the slopes of the hill to appear almost pitch-black.

  It would be very easy to hide in there.

  Dovell narrowed his eyes. There was no reason to assume anyone was lying in wait for them, but he could not shake the feeling that someone, or something, was. It was the same sensation he had experienced several times when he was a burcht blade at the Frontier. Danger lurked nearby.

  “Sir?” Rooy asked with a hushed voice from behind a low garden wall. “Is everything alright?”

  “No,” Dovell replied as he reached up behind his shoulders and unfastened the great runeblade Bellphon that hung down his back. “Get ready to move towards the entrance on my command.” He could hear the men unsheathing their own swords.

  He started to charge the runes contained within the blade, capturing ?ther with his entire body and channelling it to his hands, where it entered the hilt. After a few moments, he felt the slight shock that signified the spell within was fully charged.

  Dovell wasn't keen on using this particular spell within city limits. It was dangerous to use and it raised local ?ther volatility substantially. At the same time, he wasn't willing to take any chances. I hope I'm right about this.

  He angled the blade down, pointing it directly to a dark area next to the entrance stairs, and cast the spell. A bright light shot from the blade and struck the spot he was pointing at. The impact briefly illuminated the area, revealing a dark human figure being thrown backwards, followed by a cry of pain.

  A grim expression appeared on Dovell's face. As I suspected.

  “Subdue those men,” Dovell said in a soft but commanding tone. “Go.” He shifted his grip on the hilt of his sword to cover the correct ley points and started to cast another spell.

  Using the darkness in the square to their advantage, the five men of his lance quickly closed in on the hill, leaving Dovell behind to complete his casting of Bellphon's Nimbleness. He could feel the spell taking hold of his entire body, like someone was pouring warm oil over him. It had been a while since he had last used this spell, and he needed some time to adjust.

  Across the square, he could hear grunts, shouts and the clatter of swords. Nissek barked commands. Shadows appeared and vanished near the stairs.

  Dovell was not worried, though. His men were trained well and should be able to handle some cowards hiding in the dark. He dashed across the square, the spell giving him a speed and agility equalling that of the finest athletes.

  The sound of clashing swords rang through the square, followed by the sound of many snapping twigs. Then, another clash of metal against metal. Sounds of combat came from both sides of the entrance stairway now.

  Despite his earlier confidence, Dovell experienced a pinch of worry. How many people are hiding there?

  On the left of the steps, bright blue flames appeared out of nowhere, and two human figures jumped back from the conflagration, towards the square. As the intensity of the blue fire diminished, Dovell saw it was a person who was burning.

  What the blaze? What was that? None of the men in his lance possessed such a spell.

  He closed the distance between himself and the flames as fast as he could.

  The two figures who had jumped away from the burning figure had their backs towards Dovell. In the light of the quickly fading flames, he noticed the purple cloaks on their backs. They were both his men.

  That's a relief.

  “Is everyone alright?” Dovell asked, hiding his anxiety. “Who burned?”

  “He set himself on fire, sir,” Rooy said as he turned around. “It was the one you knocked on his ass. Me and Tobiac were just about to grab hold of him when he did it. There was another one, but he just vanished. They were using shrouds as well.”

  “Get moving then,” Dovell said. He watched as both Rooy and Tobiac dove back into the darkness, before squatting near the smouldering corpse. The smell of burnt flesh was pervasive, but Dovell paid it no heed. He had smelled worse things.

  In some spots, small blue flames still burned, providing a little additional light for him to inspect the body. Most of the flesh had been burned away and heat still radiated from the charred remains.

  This wasn't a failed cast of some fire spell, Dovell realized. That would never burn someone so completely like this in such a short time. This was deliberate self-immolation.

  The thought gave rise to many possibilities, none of which Dovell liked.

  No time for that now, he thought, refocusing on the task at hand. The area around him had fallen silent. He could no longer hear sounds of fighting. There was only the soft whisper of wind moving through the low brush around him.

  “Haridan,” a nearby voice said.

  “Kestrel,” Dovell responded. He rose from his squatting position and saw Nissek vaulting over the far railing and onto the steps. Another shadow moved down the hill to round the stairs below.

  “Is that you, sir?”

  “Report,” Dovell answered.

  “We fought two men, sir,” Nissek said, vaulting over the second handrail and landing next to Dovell, “but they both suddenly vanished.”

  “They got away?”

  “I had one under my sword when it happened, so I assume they blackshifted.” There was a light cracking noise as Nissek stepped on a branch. “What is that smell?”

  “One of our ambushers burned himself to a crisp,” Dovell said.

  Nissek spat, as if trying to get a bad taste out of his mouth. “That's just awful.”

  Dovell wasn't sure if Nissek was referring to the smell or the act itself. “Anything else?”

  “Harra went dark to scout the rest of the tower,” Nissek said. “Bastian was injured and is rounding the stairs.” He pointed towards the bottom of the stairs. “There he is.”

  Dovell saw Bastian approach, one arm clutched to his chest.

  An injury already, and we aren't even inside yet, Dovell thought. “What happened?”

  “I cracked a rib, I think,” Bastian answered, closing the gap between them. “They hit me with a Force spell and I gave a bit too much leeway on my bulwark.”

  “How bad is it?”

  “I can still move,” Bastian said, the pain clear in his voice, “but not very fast. Channelling will be difficult.”

  “Warblade,” came a voice from somewhere behind Dovell.

  “Valley,” Dovell answered. He had already recognized Rooy's distinct, deep voice.

  “Sir,” Rooy said as he approached. “We couldn't find the other one. Tobiac went dark and is scouting around the tower.”

  “Signal both him and Harra that they are going to run into one another. I don't want them to mistake each other for an enemy. Under a shade shroud, everyone looks the same.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “The one that vanished probably shifted as well,” Nissek said.

  “Probably,” Dovell said, “but that still means they are near. Blackshifts don't have much range, after all. Six hundred vors at most.”

  He turned around to look at the buildings that surrounded the square. A lot of them had their windows shuttered; most likely abandoned by their owners out of fear because of what had happened to the Candle guild.

  Our ambushers could be regrouping in any of them.

  Rooy lifted up his right hand. “I burned my hand when I tried to grab hold of our charred friend here, but it's nothing I can't regenerate.”

  “Any other injuries?”

  “No, sir,” Rooy said. “We did stumble across some dead bodies, though.” He pointed towards some shrubbery up the hill. “Two men. One Callium adept and one apprentice. It looks like they got taken out by a Force spell, if their mangled limbs are any indication.”

  Shrouds, blackshifts, Force spells. This is no common enemy we are dealing with.

  “What do we do now, sir?” Nissek asked.

  “It's safe to say that we defeated the ambushers,” Dovell replied, looking around for any sign of additional trouble. “The question remains, however, who they are and if they are going to come back. The one thing we do know is that, if they killed Callium men, they aren't Callium themselves.”

  “The vendetta,” Nissek said.

  “Most likely, yes,” Dovell agreed. “That would also explain why they weren't very eager to fight us.”

  He rubbed his chin. If this is an attack against Callium, there are undoubtedly more attackers inside. I have only five men, two of whom are injured, against who knows how many. And that's not counting the ones that blackshifted.

  He turned back to Rooy, who was now focusing on his burned hand. “Rooy, can you contact the barracks like that?”

  “I'm in the middle of the mending, sir. If I interrupt it now...”

  “I understand,” Dovell said. “Bastian?”

  “I can try, sir.”

  “Just send out a general distress. We need the other lances mobilized. Save the details for later once we have more of an understanding of what is going on here.”

  Dovell kept his voice firm, despite his anxiety. There was no reason to worry the men. Even from this brief skirmish, he could tell the attackers were trained and organized. Not to mention that if they could spare no less than four channellers just to guard the entrance, who knew how many more there were inside.

  No matter how he looked at it, the prudent thing to do would be to withdraw and wait for backup to arrive, while gathering more information about the enemy.

  Unfortunately, that was something he could not do. King Darych had been quite clear about that after the declaration of vendetta against Callium. The Royal Guard should do everything it could to make sure the investigation into the fate of the White Candle guild was a success, and to prevent and subdue any altercations arising from the vendetta.

  If there was a fight going on inside the White Candle right now between Callium and their attackers, it would almost certainly be over before backup could arrive. Worse, if things really heated up, the risk of an ?ther blowout would arise. And that I have to prevent at any cost.

  “Are we falling back, sir?” Nissek asked.

  “No. We are going inside,” Dovell decided with grim determination.

  Nissek frowned. “Sir?”

  Dovell noticed his surprise. “I know it's not our best option, but we have no choice. This isn't just a quick strike to hurt Callium. Someone is going all out to secure the White Candle for themselves. We cannot afford to wait for backup. Not in this situation.”

  “I understand, sir.”

  “Rooy, Bastian, “Dovell said. “You hang back for now while you heal yourselves. When Tobiac and Harra return, we will blow the gate.” He looked at Nissek. “Take care of that.”

  “Just open it, or...?”

  “No, blow the entire door off its hinges. It might be rigged, or there might be another ambush behind it. No time to deal with it subtly.”

  “Yes, sir,” Nissek answered and started up the hill. At the top, he dispelled the sun sigil still burning there and knelt down in the undergrowth.

  As they waited for Tobiac and Harra to return, Dovell moved away from the burned corpse. The smell was getting to him after all.

  “Castle,” came a voice from somewhere in the darkness. A signal stone—a runestone allowing people to signal each other—vibrated in his pocket to match the call.

  “Birds,” Dovell immediately responded.

  Tobiac and Harra appeared and squatted next to him. Dovell was glad they were both alright. This wasn't a good time to lose more men to injury. Or death.

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  He pushed the thought away. “Report,” he said.

  “We didn't find anyone,” Tobiac said. “However, the loading doors on the other side have been obliterated. Looks like an explosion.”

  That confirms the attackers are inside. “Good call,” Dovell said. “If I recall correctly, isn't there a servants' entrance as well?”

  “Yeah,” Tobiac said, “but that one is still barred shut, as far as we could tell. I tried the handle and I think that set off a warning sigil inside.”

  “Doesn't matter,” Dovell said. “They know we're here.” He pointed towards the main entrance. “We are going to breach the tower. Find some cover and get ready.” Pursing his lips, he gave a sharp two-toned whistle. At the top of the steps he saw the glimmer of a sword being readied. Around him, everyone hunkered down behind the stone railing.

  With a deafening crack, the heavy wooden doors of the White Candle cracked apart as if someone had driven a massive battering ram through them. Dovell could hear pieces of wood scattering on the ground.

  “Ticker,” Dovell said.

  Tobiac rose up and threw a ticker into the darkness behind the door, briefly illuminating the entrance hall as it exploded. The left door, which had already been partially unhinged, could not take any more punishment and hit the tiles beneath with a loud crash.

  Dovell listened intently. Their racket was followed by nothing but deep silence. No cries of pain. No screams. No running footsteps.

  “I don't see anyone, sir,” Nissek said from above. “The entrance hall looks abandoned.”

  Only guards on the outside, who folded the moment we put up a fight. It looks like they weren't expecting us here. Or not this fast, at least.

  Dovell started to climb the hill towards the ruined entrance. “Tobiac, take point,” he commanded.

  “Sir,” Tobiac said, jumping over the stairway railing. A moment later he dove past Nissek into the gaping maw of the doorway. The rest followed after him, with Nissek bringing up the rear.

  As Nissek had said, the entrance hall was empty apart from Dovell's lance. A cursory survey showed nothing out of the ordinary, apart from the remnants of the shattered doors.

  Dovell took a deep breath. “We'll take the main hallway, through the small meeting hall and towards the south stairway. From there, we'll go down into the lower lounge and move towards the inner sanctum.”

  There was no explicit need for him to state the plan. All of them already knew the way. Every member of the Royal Guard needed to know the exact layout of every major building in the city, including the seats of the magic guilds.

  They advanced with caution. Upon reaching the door that led into the small meeting hall, Tobiac sat down beside it and pressed himself against the wall. “A lot of volatility in there,” he said as he waved a scrying stone.

  “Don't stick your nose in just yet,” Nissek said, moving up to the front. He retrieved a mirror from his gear, held it in the doorway and studied the reflection. “All the tables are overturned,” he reported.

  “Which direction do they face?” Dovell asked.

  “Towards—”

  Nissek dove away from the doorway, pulling Tobiac with him. An instant later, a bright, long object soared through the entry and fractured against the opposite wall. Dovell could feel heat coming from it, despite being more than five paces away.

  “Get out of there,” he hissed, gesturing for everyone to move away from the door.

  Nissek and Tobiac both climbed back to their feet and backed away.

  “That was close,” Nissek said.

  Dovell's face was grim. “I take it that wasn't a gift from a Callium magister?”

  “It was not,” Nissek said with a brief shake of his head. “The caster was using a shroud spell.”

  They're making their stand here, then. “Tobiac, set up a barrier. We need to be able to see what they are doing in there without having to take cover every two seconds.”

  While Tobiac crept back towards the door, Dovell yelled to the rear. “Bastian! When will our backup arrive?”

  Bastian was leaning against the wall, a soft blue-coloured rune in his hands. The corners of his mouth indicated that he was still in pain, but bearing it. “Guard-captain Arwoude's lance is on the move and will arrive in about fifteen longticks. Three others are mobilizing as we speak.” He paused for a moment, eyes closed, while he listened to the voice in his head. “The city watch is also sending everyone they can spare.”

  Dovell frowned. “Tell the watch to stay away. They are just going to get themselves killed.”

  Unlike the Royal Guard, the men and women in the city watch were tier two channellers at best, with most of them only tier one or even zero. Only a few of them would be able to use a bulwark. Without one, they were too vulnerable.

  “Should I ask the Keep to contact the magic guilds as well, sir?” Bastian asked.

  Even in their current predicament, the question made Dovell scoff. “You can try.”

  As if they care what happens to Callium. Not to mention that it could be either of them currently sitting on the other side of this wall. If not both of them.

  He returned his attention to the task before him. Tobiac had finished casting the barrier. He had planted his sword in a narrow crack between the wall and the floor. A faint barrier of light, shaped in a semicircle, stretched across the doorway and part of a wall.

  Nissek moved forward again to take another look. The instant he stuck his mirror around the corner, he jerked it back again, as another bright object impacted the barrier, raining bright shards of light.

  The barrier remained intact.

  “How strong was that?” Dovell asked Tobiac.

  “Strong,” Tobiac replied, his forehead wrinkled in concentration. “If they throw any more of those, I don't know if I can keep it charged.”

  “I'll keep that in mind,” Nissek said. He positioned himself at the very edge of the barrier and used the mirror again.

  This time, nothing happened, and Nissek was able to survey the room. “I can see some orange robes sitting against the far wall,” he said. “They aren't moving.” He tilted the mirror slightly. “There is some movement near the stairwell. Looks like people with shade shrouds.”

  “Can we advance?” Dovell asked.

  As if in response to his question, two more bolts impacted the barrier, causing it to flicker.

  Tobiac's expression turned into a skewed grimace of intense concentration as he tried to restore the barrier's integrity. Sweat formed on his forehead.

  What the blaze are those bolts, to do this much damage? Dovell wondered. Did the Daughters or the Lyceum really devise spells like this?

  Nissek retracted his mirror. “I can't say for sure, but judging from the direction of those bolts, they have at least three people in there. They are using the tables for cover. I can't tell if they have also warded them.”

  Dovell clenched his hands into fists. This is bad. Only my lance, with two men injured, against unknown enemy numbers who seem content to keep us pinned here. No need for them to engage in risky manoeuvres that might give us an opening. He looked back down the corridor to where Harra was keeping watch. Our exposed rear isn't helping either.

  Sweat trickled down his face. He brusquely wiped it away.

  “We still need to advance,” Dovell said. “Suggestions?”

  Rooy looked up from his hand. It was beginning to regain its normal colour. “Monolith strike?”

  Dovell shook his head. “With so little room to manoeuvre, that would only work if they are complete idiots. If they are not, we would be a man down with nothing to show for it.”

  “Perhaps an illusion, then?” Rooy suggested.

  “Same problem. They aren't going to fall for that as long as all they have to do is sit and watch this doorway.”

  Nissek scratched his head. “Using Guided Force is out of the question as well. I can only hit one of them with it. The others would torch me with those bolts of theirs a moment later.”

  “So, basically, we can't advance from here,” Dovell concluded.

  “I'm afraid so, sir,” Nissek replied.

  There was a moment of silence.

  Dovell exhaled slowly and tried to rearrange his thoughts. If a goal seemed unattainable, it was a good idea to take a step back and look at the original goal: reaching the inner sanctum. They didn't have to go through the small meeting hall. What they needed was an alternative route.

  Dovell strained his memory, trying to recall the exact layout of the White Candle's ground floor. He knew there was another stairwell that led down into the basement, but he was uncertain how to get there safely.

  From here we'd have to go through the servants' quarters. They connect to the kitchen and the dining hall.

  Yet he quickly dropped that idea. That route would take them near the warehouse and its destroyed loading doors. The odds of that path being clear were slim. If anything, it would be even more heavily defended.

  Another bolt impacted the barrier, as if to check it was still there. Tobiac now looked like he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders.

  Maybe it's better to withdraw, after all. There's no point in remaining here if we can't get to the basement.

  He was staring down at the light-brown tiles on the floor when it hit him.

  The basement below us.

  “Nissek,” Dovell said. “What's beneath here?”

  “Sir?” Nissek asked, a confused look on his face.

  “Beneath our feet,” Dovell answered, tapping his foot on the ground. “What's below us? Which exact room?”

  Nissek thought for a moment. “Either one of the study rooms or the corridor that runs along them,” he eventually said. He looked down the hallway. “Yes, we are definitely far enough inside for that.” He suddenly understood. “Oh, I see what you mean, sir.”

  Dovell nodded and moved back, towards Harra. As he passed Rooy, he gestured for him to follow.

  “Rooy, watch the rear. Harra, I need your help. We are going to burn a hole in the floor here.”

  “Sir,” both men said simultaneously.

  Harra squatted on the floor. “Here, sir?”

  “Anywhere is fine. If we hit the top of a wall or solid earth, we'll try again somewhere else.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Harra retrieved two stones from his runepouch and stacked them on the floor. Then he carefully placed his hands over them, moving them around slightly to get the correct position.

  Dovell moved back a step. He could have cast the spell required to burn through the floor himself. However, doing so without any form of protection against the heat would have instantly incinerated his hands. Harra was the only one present who could cast both the burning spell and the spell needed to shield himself from its effect.

  A few moments later, the earthy smell of melting stone and sand filled the corridor. Dovell backed off even further, driven away by the heat.

  “When you are through, move away from the hole immediately,” he ordered. “They might be waiting.”

  Harra nodded almost imperceptibly.

  Accompanied by a flash of light, a fifth bolt struck the barrier.

  They probably realize we are up to something. “Bastian, how much longer until Third Lance gets here?”

  “Twelve longticks. Second Lance has just moved out as well.”

  Twelve longticks. A lot can happen in twelve longticks.

  They waited as Harra's hands slowly disappeared into the hole he was making.

  Eventually, Harra tipped forward slightly. “I'm through,” he said. He drew his blade and forced the remainder of the hot material out of the hole.

  Dovell half expected something to come through. It did. It was a loud voice.

  “Don't think you can get in like that,” the voice yelled. “Just stick your head through and try.”

  The voice gave Dovell pause. I know that voice. He moved as close as he could and shouted down the hole. “Karan de Ekkar? Is that you? This is Guard-captain Messchiel from Fifth Lance.”

  There was a moment of silence, punctuated by faint murmuring.

  “Show yourself,” the voice replied. “I have no time for petty tricks.”

  That's him, Dovell thought as he unsheathed Bellphon from his back and carefully lowered the sword down the hole.

  “You recognize this, I take it,” Dovell yelled.

  “I do,” Karan yelled back. Dovell could hear the voices of other people as well. “You are here sooner than I expected.”

  “We were close by. What's the situation down there?”

  “Not good. We are trapped. Surrounded on both sides. I take it from your little hole there that you are stuck as well.”

  “We are. Do you know what they are after?”

  “The inner sanctum, it seems,” Karan replied. “But they aren't going easy on us either. We've been—” Karan suddenly stopped talking. Dovell could hear a distant voice yelling something he couldn't quite make out.

  “Karan?” Dovell shouted after a while.

  “It seems our assailants have decided to withdraw,” Karan responded. “We just detected a massive surge in Entropy and Quintessence volatility.”

  Blackshifts, Dovell immediately realized. Either that or I'm not talking to Karan at all and it's all a ruse.

  He turned his head. “Nissek, are they still there?”

  Nissek had heard Karan as well and was already inspecting the room. “I don't see anyone, but they are all shrouded, so no guarantees.”

  Dovell looked at Tobiac, who was visibly struggling to stay focused.

  “Drop the barrier, and let's see what happens. If nothing does, throw in a ticker.”

  Karan's voice sounded again from below. “We just checked. They are gone.”

  “Stay there,” Dovell shouted back.

  “I wasn't planning on moving,” Karan replied sarcastically.

  The sound of a detonation echoed through the corridor. Nissek's ticker had exploded unhindered.

  “It appears they are gone, sir,” Nissek reported, watching his mirror. “That explosion should have hit at least one of them.” He stuck his head around the corner for a brief glance. “It could still be a trap, though.”

  “I, for one, sincerely hope they left,” Tobiac said as he slumped against the wall. “I can't channel any more ?ther.”

  It could be a ruse to lure us in, but then why bother? Even if it is not Karan down there and this is all a set-up to get us to expose ourselves, they have to know that reinforcements will be here soon.

  Dovell made his decision. They would advance, but not before he tried some subterfuge of his own.

  “Karan,” he shouted, “we are going to advance towards the south stairs and from there to you. Second and Third Lance will be here any moment now to finish securing the tower.”

  “We'll wait,” Karan yelled back.

  Dovell listened intently for a moment, but there was no further reaction, apart from the sound of murmuring voices. The lie that reinforcements would be there soon had elicited no discernible reaction.

  So much for trickery, Dovell thought. “Tobiac, Bastian. Stay here until the other lances arrive. The rest of you, come with me.”

  Nissek stepped into the meeting hall first and found it indeed abandoned. The rest of the lance followed him inside.

  Dovell ran his gaze around the room. It was a total mess. Most of the furniture was damaged in some way, and the north wall showed black patches, indicating burn marks. Three men in orange robes were slumped against that same wall. Considering the rather gruesome state of their bodies, it wasn't hard to tell they were all dead.

  “Void dyad is going wild here,” Rooy said, holding a scrying stone. “If it isn't because of mass blackshifting, I don't know what's causing it.”

  “How wild?” Dovell asked. Apart from any remaining assailants, the ?ther itself could become a threat as well.

  “Entropy is near the crest point, but it's dropping as we speak. It seems like the wards in the outer walls are doing their job. No risk of an ?ther blowout.”

  Dovell rolled his shoulders to relieve the tension in his muscles. It seemed all the attackers had retreated after all.

  Still, that's a scary thing in and of itself. It means that every single channeller part of this attack is at least a fourth tier.

  “Nissek, what's the percentage of channellers that can reach fourth tier?”

  Nissek looked surprised at the sudden question. Giving it some thought, he eventually answered. “Four out of ten thousand is the natural percentage. Some third-tier channellers can reach fourth tier as well with channel fortification.” Nissek cocked his head. “I think it's more likely they used precharged sigils.”

  Dovell nodded. “That would make more sense, but aren't blackshift sigils extremely hard to craft? Having that many runes available...”

  He shook himself out of his musings. Think about that later. Right now I need to make certain the tower is secure.

  “Remain cautious and keep your bulwarks active,” Dovell commanded as he moved towards the hall's other exit. “The stairs come next.”

  Nissek cautiously stepped onto the first step and started his descent. He disappeared out of sight, and a moment later his voice came up the stairs. “It's clear. Nothing here except more corpses.”

  The corridor below smelled of blood and burned flesh. Dovell could see a leg sticking out of a broken doorway.

  A hard fight was fought here.

  As they advanced along the corridor, they encountered another body, this one incinerated to a black skeleton not unlike the one outside.

  More self-immolation? They certainly didn't want anyone to know who they were. The thought made Dovell feel uncomfortable again. Would the Daughters or the Lyceum really go this far? And for what? There must be a ton of locations better suited to hurt Callium than this place.

  He stepped up his pace.

  Upon reaching the lower lounge, they encountered a warzone. The room had once been richly decorated, furnished with soft sofas and a relaxing atmosphere. Now it was filled with wounded men. Wood splinters were everywhere, and the far walls were covered with black spots. More of those bolts.

  Magister Karan de Ekkar came up to meet them, looking relieved and sad at the same time.

  “Guard-captain Messchiel.”

  “Magister De Ekkar.”

  Ironic how fast we go back to the normal formalities, Dovell thought as he took in the situation. Karan himself seemed to have come out mostly unscathed. His usually clean-cut brown hair stuck out in different directions, and his lean body betrayed a tension that his orange magister's robes could not hide. Nonetheless, the Callium magister's blue eyes beamed their usual confidence.

  “We weathered the storm, it seems,” Karan said, crossing his arms.

  “It seems so,” Dovell answered. “Any idea who sent it down here?”

  “I was hoping you would know. They were all using shrouds, and the ones we managed to kill went up in flames.”

  “We saw the same thing.”

  “That's most unfortunate. Still, it doesn't take much imagination to guess who the culprits are.”

  “The vendetta, yes. It had occurred to me. However, we can start laying blame after we are certain they are all gone.” Dovell looked in the direction of the sanctum. “Is the sanctum still secure?”

  “Good question,” Karan said. “I'm going to check right away.” He turned and moved away without bothering to see if Dovell was following.

  “Are all Callium magisters like that?” Rooy whispered to Dovell.

  “He is,” Dovell said. He looked at the men of his lance. “See if you can help with the wounded. Harra, go back up and inform Bastian that the enemy has withdrawn from the tower by means of blackshifting.”

  “Are you certain they're gone, sir?” Nissek asked.

  Dovell shrugged. “As certain as I can be. I guess the moment we linked up with the men here was a turning point. Or perhaps they believed they couldn't afford to stay any longer.” He nodded towards Karan. “Let's see if I can find out the reason for this whole mess.”

  Dovell rejoined Karan in front of the entrance to the Candle's sanctum. Its doors were wide open. A great oval crystal glowed a deep red above them. Karan was looking inside, one hand under his chin, as if he was pondering the mysteries of the ?ther.

  “Did they breach the sanctum?” Dovell asked, glancing worriedly at the open doors.

  Karan slowly shook his head. “No. I was the one who opened the door.” He turned to face Dovell. “Only moments before the attack began.”

  “I thought the breaching wasn't to take place until several days from now,” Dovell pointed out, narrowing his eyes at Karan.

  “You are correct,” Karan said, undaunted. “Opening the door was merely a preparatory step. We needed to see inside. Nonetheless, it seems our attackers took it as a sign the sanctum had been breached.”

  “But it hadn't been?”

  “It had not,” Karan answered, gesturing towards the open doorway. “It only appeared that way.” He stretched out his arm and lightly tapped the air. His finger bounced back as if it had touched something solid.

  “A barrier,” Dovell observed.

  “A bit more than that, but basically, yes,” Karan replied, a smug expression on his face. “This barrier is part of the sanctum's own defensive wards. I modified it somewhat to act as a security measure in case whatever's inside the inner sanctum should prove to be... hostile.”

  He ran his finger down the barrier. “Fortunately, this barrier works equally well in both directions, so our dark assailants couldn't enter. One of them tried and ended up being thrown into the wall behind us as a result.”

  Dovell hid his sigh of relief. His biggest fear in all of this had not been the fate of Callium's magisters, but the state of the sanctum. It had swallowed up an entire magic guild, after all. Karan's earlier statement about how the attackers had aimed for the sanctum rather than Callium's magisters had added to his fears.

  “They did not enter?” Dovell asked.

  “I don't see how. The wards that protect the walls of the sanctum are still active. I haven't touched any of those yet.” He tapped the barrier once more. “They tried to disable the barrier, but I made certain they wouldn't have enough time for that.” A smirk appeared on his face as he inclined his head to his right, towards the end of the corridor where an object was placed against the wall.

  Dovell squinted, but the corridor was too dark to make out what it was.

  Karan noticed his stare. “It's one of the lounge tables. And beneath it lies the one who got hit by it.” He sounded pleased with himself.

  Your doing, I take it, Dovell thought. It was one of the reasons he disliked magistrae like Karan. They had an aura of callousness about them that brought nothing but pain and trouble to anyone subjected to it.

  Dovell did not voice this opinion, however, as there were far more urgent issues. “I see,” he merely said, and he turned back towards the sanctum doorway. “So, all in all this barrier was a wise precaution.”

  “Unlike a lot of my peers, I'm aware of the proper way to handle things like this.”

  Through the open door, Dovell could see a small entrance hall. It was lined with large shelves, holding various items and books, on both sides. At the far end of the hall was a closed wooden door, reinforced with iron. In the archway above it, Dovell could see the glow of a handful of crystals, similar to the one placed above the outer door. They weren't red, though. Instead, they flickered between white and various shades of grey, at what seemed to be a random pace.

  Dovell tilted his head towards them. “What are those for?”

  “Possibly more ward indicators,” Karan said. “I won't know for sure until we lower the barrier and go inside. We didn't exactly get much work done this evening.”

  “Leave it be for tonight. We need to sweep and secure the tower first. It's best you and the wounded leave as soon as possible.”

  Karan let out a brief chuckle. “I can assure you that I have no plans to continue my work at the moment.” His voice became mocking. “Our esteemed archmagister will probably want to hear about this as well.”

  “Just tell me one thing. You said they were after the sanctum. How certain are you of that?”

  Karan raised an eyebrow. “I'm absolutely positive. They tried to overwhelm us at first. When that failed, however, they seemed content to keep us confined to the lounge.”

  He pointed to Dovell's left. “They set up a barrier there, after I crushed that one.” His other hand pointed to the right.

  “And then?”

  Karan tilted his head and looked through the open doorway. “They were all using shrouds. I only know there were a lot of them moving around the entrance here. What they were doing exactly—I can only speculate.”

  “They made no attempt to strike at any of you?”

  “Not after their initial attack failed, no. At least, nothing apart from the occasional bolt of light thrown our way to make certain we didn't try anything.”

  Just enough to keep them pinned, like we were. Whoever these dark assailants—as Karan had called them—were, they weren't eager to get caught in a protracted fight.

  “You know what those bolts were?”

  “A Sun dyad spell. Similar to the one contained in your sword, I'm guessing. Although causing far less volatility.”

  Dovell nodded. If he had used Bellphon's Solar-strike as often as the attackers had used their bolts, there would have been a blowout for certain.

  He turned away from the entrance to look back at the lounge. A man was limping away, supported by Rooy. “King Darych is not going to be happy about this.”

  “I don't think anyone is, Guard-captain Messchiel,” Karan said, dropping his mocking tone. “Neither us nor our dark assailants.” He looked Dovell straight in the eye as he tapped on the sanctum's barrier once more. “One might even say that the worst is yet to come.”