“How many defenders do we have?” asked Darla.
“Twenty-seven students, plus the baron, Laina, Tiny, and yourself,” he answered.
The Arkeshi pointed at the windows Laina had already sealed. “Can the Drak’shar break through these?”
Laina shrugged. “It’s an inch thick. It should slow them down. If we have enough time, I can double that.”
Darla nodded, then pointed at the east door, which they had entered through. “If there is a way in, they will take the path of least resistance. If there is not, they will climb over everything and begin creating their own entrances.”
“They may not even notice the open door,” Will pointed out.
The Arkeshi pointed at herself. “That is why I will wait out there. As soon as I spot them, I will light a candle and move inside. The candle will announce the position of the open door and draw them to it, like moths to a flame. Our small number of defenders can concentrate their efforts just inside the door, destroying them as they come.”
“Unless they have someone with them smart enough to figure out our plan and redirect them,” Will stated glumly, thinking of Androv.
“With how few we have, this is the best we can do,” said Darla. “If they do have a brilliant commander, we are already dead.”
Tiny spoke up, as he had been listening from a few feet away. “Let’s do it. I agree with her reasoning.”
For some reason everyone seemed to be waiting on Will to make the final call, so he did. “We’ll do that.” They began moving. When did I turn into the leader here? he wondered. Elizabeth Sundy was still barking orders at the students, so he felt some relief. At least I’m not the only one.
The lectern and other furniture had been cleared away, along with the altar table, and now the dais where the high priest normally stood was completely clear of obstructions. “Will, come here,” called Elizabeth. “You’ll stand on this mark, at the center.” She handed him a sheet of parchment. “Can you do this?”
It all started with a spell construct, Ethelgren’s Illumination, with a few alterations. His biggest worry was that he might create the original spell and omit the changes before moving on to the second stage. He nodded. “I can.” He had barely gotten the words out before the scholar had moved on, calling to the new sorcerers who would be participating. “You, over here. You, here.” It went on and on.
She arranged thirteen in a circle around him, those she judged to be the most experienced students, for their jobs required more finesse as they would be providing auxiliary control, guiding the flows of turyn from the rest of the students into channels that would flow around Will in the center.
While she organized the last of them, Will nervously activated the limnthal. “I’m about to start the ritual,” he told Arrogan quietly. “Wish me luck.”
“Fuck luck. Luck will get you killed,” said the ring, speaking softly. “Remember what happened when the dam nearly collapsed on you?”
“Yeah.”
“This is like that. You have to make your own luck.”
“I’m not going to be doing the double draw like I did then, though,” said Will, somewhat confused.
“No, but you’re going to have to step up and do something similar. Controlling the turyn in a ritual like this requires a more advanced technique.”
His heart sped up. “You should have said that before! I don’t know what I’m doing,” he hissed under his breath, hoping no one heard him.
“If you did that, you can do this. The trick here is to keep the turyn away from yourself. Visualize a sort of shell around your core, your body. You want to control the turyn they’re sending in your direction, but you can’t let it slip through and into your inner boundary, otherwise it will undermine your control.”
“What the fuck does that mean?” demanded Will, beginning to panic. “I think you should do this. Take my body.”
“I wasn’t lying when I said I might not be able to give it up. I’m not doing this for you. It’s you or nothing.”
Will said nothing.
Arrogan went on, “You have to think of it this way. You’re keeping the turyn at arm’s length, away from you. There’s so much of it that it will literally tear you apart if it gets too close. So you have to control it at a distance. It sounds harder, but it really—all right, that’s a lie—it is harder, but not as hard as dying.”
“How am I going to control that much energy if I’m keeping it that far away?”
“Ever seen a tornado?”
“What’s that?”
“How about a dust devil?”
Will nodded. “Yes.”
“You’re going to whip the first turyn that comes in around yourself, like a wind-wall spell. Keep it moving, and its momentum will draw the turyn that follows along with it. As long as you don’t falter, the turyn will stick to the pattern.”
“What about the ritual construct?”
“You pick a little turyn out of the storm and use just that. Then let the construct pull more in on its own, sort of like its own independent dust devil within your larger dust devil. As it grows, you feed more of the external to it and eventually it consumes all of it and the ritual finishes.”
He frowned. “Except the ritual construct isn’t a dust devil at all. It’s a static structure.”
“Stop bitching, it’s a metaphor.”
“Don’t you mean an analogy?”
“No, asshole! As you just pointed out, it’s not actually the same. It’s more symbolic, so it’s a goddamn metaphor!”
“Ahh,” said Will. “I keep getting them mixed up.”
“Mister Cartwright?” It was Elizabeth. “Are you all right?”
“Yes,” he said immediately, dismissing the limnthal.
She turned to the others. “Get ready. We’re about to begin.”
And just like that, a moment of enlightenment hit him like a bolt of lightning. All the tiny things that bothered him seemed to resolve into a single question. He wasn’t sure of its significance, but he had to know. “Wait.”
Elizabeth held up her hand, a questioning look on her face as Will stepped out of the circle and went to Laina Nerrow. “Who was it that stole the money?”
His sister blinked. “Pardon?”
“From the charity. You said you wanted Selene’s help to pressure the person, but you didn’t say who it was.”