“Qezisarm-”

  “‘thumrut!”

  As Magdala’s Qe core thrummed, water whipped out of her canteen and slapped Lo Duca’s ridiculous golden mask right off her face. Down the corridor there was a crash and a shout, but Mei could handle herself. Magdala’s opponents were Lo Duca and the scrawny girl in the brown cloak.

  “You buxing reprobate! You’ll regret that.” Lo Duca raised her left hand, made a blade of it, and slashed the air. “‘otlo!”

  The spell missed, Lo Duca’s absurd windup having given Magdala more than enough time to sidestep before charging in with the first of five sleep potions at the ready.

  Again, Lo Duca’s hand raised, formed a blade, slashed. “‘otlo!”

  Again, Magdala dodged, this time throwing a potion, aiming at Lo Duca’s feet.

  Lo Duca clapped her hands together. “Qemilo!”

  Wind blasted the vial back Magdala’s way, and it smashed on the ground between them, releasing a bright blue gas and forcing Magdala to hold her breath. She didn’t have to for long; Lo Duca’s spell blew the gas away.

  Well, she hadn’t really expected-

  Lo Duca sank to her knees, her hand already a blade. “‘otlo!”

  Magdala jumped as deep score marks cut themselves into the walls to her right and left at shin height. As soon as her feet touched the ground, Magdala dashed into a room to take cover from the winddancer’s next attack.

  She hadn’t expected this to go quickly, but what had she learned so far? Lo Duca wasn’t treating this like a duel but like a dance. Each time she cast was an elegant, easy to read performance. Lady Pol would have taken her apart.

  “Lady Gallus, I’m surprised,” purred Lo Duca. “I thought you’d be dead by now. Come on out and let’s see who deserves to live.”

  The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  So Lo Duca wasn’t going to come to Magdala. Good, a pause gave Mei time to drag her brother even further away, and Magdala time to gain some information. How would her roommate go about it? Aside from flirting.

  “Dean Bruce can’t win!” Magdala called out.

  “She already has!” shouted Lo Duca. “There’s nothing you or that Queasie girl can do to stop us.”

  Magdala considered her inventory: four sleep potions, two hand bombs, a water canteen now three-quarters full, and a spoon. The spoon was useless, the water too precious, the bombs too dangerous in these corridors, and for the potions to work, she’d need to deal with Lo Duca’s Qemilo. Could it be blocked? Magdala prepped Qeaujeht’ thrice just in case.

  “Nothing?” Magdala asked aloud. “You saw Mei had the License Key, right?”

  “That only saves us the trouble of taking from your pet savage,” said Lo Duca. “Once Sky has it, my master’s fondest hopes will be realized.”

  “You think Huan can defeat Mei?” Magdala pulled a sleep potion off her belt. “Don’t make me laugh.”

  “If he fails,” Lo Duca’s voice was hollow, “then his blood shall pool at my feet.”

  Delightful.

  “We’ll see!” Potion raised, Magdala jumped out into the corridor, but Lo Duca’s hand was already slashing.

  “Qezisarmisuotlo!”

  Magdala grabbed her shirt. “Qesuyit!”

  Despite the shimmer of enchantment, the hardened shirt only blocked the cut, not the impact, which sent Magdala rolling down the corridor, her training the only thing keeping her inventory intact.

  She rose and charged. Twenty-five wir until she was in range.

  Lo Duca clapped. “Qemilo!”

  “‘nutamde!”

  Wind smashed against a watery shield made of Magdala’s will and half her remaining water. Twenty wir.

  Undaunted, the winddancer slashed the air once again. “Qezisarmisuotlo!”

  Was Lo Duca out of prepped spells? Dodging the wind blade allowed Magdala to gain ground. Ten wir.

  Hand clap. “Qemilo!”

  “‘nutamde!”

  Sleep potion in hand, Magdala dashed through the misty remains of her shield. Five wir. Now, Lo Duca didn’t have time to-

  Lo Duca’s hand twitched. “‘otlo!”

  Wind sliced through Qesuyit’s dragon scale enchantment and cut a line of pain from Magdala’s right shoulder down to her left hip, but Magdala pushed through and smashed the potion at the winddancer’s feet. Blue gas blossomed up into Lo Duca’s face, and she dropped to the ground in a pile of bright green fabric.

  Magdala held her breath until she was sure that Lo Duca was down, then cast Qemilo to dissipate the gas. She’d won. More importantly, now she could go help Mei catch her-

  “No!”

  The world became dark, scratchy cloth then Magdala was shoved onto her back, and something was pulled off her belt.

  Flinging the brown cloak off her, Magdala managed a “Who?” before the scrawny girl she’d forgotten about smashed a sleep potion against her head.