“When I tell you that you’ll be shaping mana, what does that mean to you?”

  On one side of Touanne’s table, in the shop part of her home, sat Ana. Across from her, Tellak. Touanne had excused herself after welcoming Ana and, with the air of something that had become routine, promised Tellak that she would not open the door to Jancia's room.

  Ana thought about the question only long enough to determine that there was no point in thinking further. “Making it do what you want,” she said. “And I’m sure that’s a pretty damned incomplete answer at best.”

  “It is. But it’s not wrong, depending on how one interprets that answer. Except for the most basic, practically useless effects, you’re not causing the effect you want with the mana you shape. What you do instead is to create a mana construct which then draws mana from you, through you, to affect a change in the world. This is much more effective and efficient, but also, of course, much more difficult. It’s the difference between building a water hammer and wielding the sledge yourself.”

  “So it’s like magical engineering?”

  “I don’t know what that word means, but mana constructs are often compared to mechanisms, if that is what you mean.”

  “Pretty much, yeah.”

  Tellak nodded, seeming pleased with this. “I've always found the comparison helpful. Like a mechanism, a mana construct can be simple, or intricate. Each part must be up to its task, and if it's poorly constructed it can be terribly dangerous. It is far too easy to make a construct whose only purpose is to convert mana into heat or pressure, for example, and which will continue to do so until it collapses, usually because the caster’s mana channels are completely burned out and can no longer supply it with mana. This always kills the caster. Or some part of the construct cannot handle the mana passing through it, and the whole thing collapses instead of dismantling itself in a controlled manner, which also might kill the caster through backlash. This is why caution and correct instruction are important.”

  “Yeah, I’m not trying to kill myself here. So where do we start?”

  “First you learn to shape some simple constructs from an experienced caster, such as myself. From this you learn the principles of safe shaping. Once you’ve learned that, you can start experimenting on your own. As to what construct we’ll start with, that depends. What do you want to do? What speaks to you?”

  “You said that you can harden your skin, or something. I want to do that.”

  “A fine choice, and a common one for Earth-mages of all types. We can get to weight manipulation and such later. Come, then. Let’s draw some mana, and we’ll begin.”

  Ana had already been tired when she arrived. When they finished she was wiped. There was no way for Tellak to show what she herself did. Nor could she see what Ana was doing — the best she could do was to say whether the movement of the mana around Ana felt right. Instruction consisted of Tellak describing what she visualized and how things should feel. Ana tried to match that and reported her results, and Tellak suggested tweaks based on what she herself had felt. It was slow, inefficient, and exhausting.

  At the same time, it was also deceptively simple. There were three components to the spell: the mana supply, which connected to the mana Ana herself drew from the ground; the modulation, which she didn't quite understand, and Tellak told her not to worry about yet; and the effect, which Ana visualized as a thin layer of armor over her skin. More advanced spells, or advanced versions of the same spell, had incantations as well, but Tellak wanted her comfortable with basic shaping before they got to that.

  Each component was, at its core, a geometric shape that Ana had to construct without actually being able to see it. Once she had the basic shape down she needed to add detail, and she had to work entirely from imagination and memory. It was a lot like painting with her eyes closed, with the minor differences that she was doing it with mana, in three dimensions in the air, and that a botched painting couldn’t suddenly explode and kill her.

  It came as no surprise when Tellak told her that most mages pushed their Acuity quite high.

  The whole situation was not at all helped by the fresh memory of her meeting with the Wayfarer, and what the goddess needed her to do. Something that she couldn’t reasonably refuse.

  When Tellak called it quits, all Ana had to show for her efforts was a small patch of skin on her fingertip that was slightly tougher than it had been, like a callus from playing the guitar. Even that little accomplishment faded quickly. Tellak was very pleased, though.

  “If you can do one small piece of skin,” the pale woman said, “then you will be able to do your whole body in time. It’s just a question of slowly expanding the affected area while maintaining control. Same thing with how tough you make it: increase the toughness slowly. And don't try to do both at once. These are separate exercises, and the fact that it’s a simple spell does not mean that it is easy to do correctly. They each need a higher flow of mana, but modulated differently, and that puts much greater demands on your control. Practice. Separately!”

  Ana nodded along. She knew herself. She'd be tempted to push and push as soon as she saw some progress, and the last time she fucked around with magic she’d very nearly found out just how serious Tellak's warnings had been. If not for Touanne of all people ringing her head like a bell, Ana might have actually killed herself. She did not intend to repeat that mistake.

  After bidding good night to Tellak, and to Touanne who was hard at work in her lab, Ana made her way back up the street. Her head hurt, and she felt like she had a pair of clamps on her upper shoulders. She passed the square, doing her best not to look at either the Waystone or the temple. The pain in her head turned into a pounding. They both reminded her of what she was going to have to do. She hated it. Things had been going well. She’d been settling in. Now it was just one thing after another.

  She took the northern street from the square, then the few turns that led her to the door of Messy’s building.

  She considered turning around and going to her own room at Petra’s instead. Tomorrow morning she was going to have to talk to Messy to see if anything had happened — If her prayers had been answered in any way. And whatever Messy said, Ana was going to have to tell her that she’d spoken to the Wayfarer. That the Wayfarer had appointed her as her chosen, her champion, or some such bullshit. And Messy would either believe her or not. It depended on if Messy prayed like Ana had asked her to, if the Wayfarer had gotten through like she’d promised, and if Messy believed in the message she’d received, whatever form that took. And if Messy didn’t believe her, then she might either get pissed at Ana for mocking her religion, or think that Ana was insane.

  Either of those would probably make this their last night together, and for all that Ana didn’t want to have that talk in the morning, she needed this. Things were spiraling out of control, and Ana needed the warmth, and the closeness, and the gentle comfort that Messy was all too happy to offer. Even if it was just one last time.

  She opened the street entrance, which didn’t even have a lock, and took the stairs to the second floor. She passed two doors and stopped at the third, taking a deep breath. It came out as a sigh.

  She’d barely touched the wood before there was a scramble on the other side, and the door opened and Messy pulled her inside. The room was dark, except for a single fat candle that burned in one corner.

  “Thank the goddess, you’re finally here! What the fuck, Ana?”

  Messy looked and sounded… not angry. Not at all. No, she was somewhere between bewildered, overwhelmed, and absolutely elated. Her eyes were wide open and her eyeliner had smudged and run like she’d been crying, but she was smiling. Grinning, even, with teeth and all.

  “What the fuck?” she said again, pulling Ana into a tight hug. “Did you know? You told me to pray. Did you know what would happen?”

  “Hello to you, too.” Ana returned the hug cautiously. “What happened, exactly?”

  “I felt her!” Messy pulled back and grasped Ana’s face with both hands, looking into her eyes with such intensity that Ana started to worry. “My prayers were answered! When I came home I prayed for guidance, like you said, and I felt her! Not the vague comfort and sense of direction that I usually get, I felt her will! I— It wasn’t words. She didn’t speak to me. But as soon as I finished my prayer, I knew. The coming days will be hard, and she wants us to hold out, and fight back. She wants me, all of us, to trust you, Ana. You! Did you know? Was that what you felt at the Waystone? Did you—?”

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  “Mess.” Ana tried to interrupt her, but the words kept coming. “Mess, listen, I— Mess!”

  When Ana raised her voice, looked her in the eyes, and pushed, just a little, with Command, Messy’s torrent of words finally stopped.

  “Sit down, Mess,” Ana said more gently, leading her to the bed. Once Mess was seated she knelt in front of her. “I didn’t know, not exactly. But I hoped. When you had me ask for guidance at the Waystone, I…”

  Ana trailed off and took a deep breath. This was it. Another chance for Messy to freak out and hate her. The second in two days. Ridiculous.

  Messy looked so expectant, so elated and uncertain and lost, that Ana wasn’t sure what to say. How to tell her. But she saw how those big amber eyes shone in the flickering candlelight. She saw the trust there, and the anticipation, and some small part of her relaxed.

  On impulse Ana leaned in and, after only a moment’s hesitation, kissed Messy, soft and brief.

  “Oh,” Messy said. It was barely a breath as she raised her hand to touch her lips where Ana’s had just been.

  “Messy, do you trust me?”

  Messy nodded.

  “You know that there are things I’m holding back, that I need to hold back, but do you think that I would lie to you about anything important?”

  “No.”

  “Messy…” Ana swallowed thickly. She couldn’t believe that she’d just kissed Messy on the lips, even if it was just a little peck. Where had that come from? Had she been so relieved that some small part of this might work out that she just had to find some new way to sabotage everything for herself?

  No. This wasn’t the time to worry about that. She had to focus.

  “Messy,” she tried again, easier this time. “I spoke with the Wayfarer.”

  Messy said nothing. She only waited for Ana to continue.

  “Not impressions or anything like that. We spoke, face to face. Mostly she spoke to me, but… yeah. She told me that we won’t survive if we sit behind the walls and wait. That the problem will just keep growing until we’re either overwhelmed, or the splinter collapses into the void. Either way, everyone dies. So instead we need to find the source of the problem, and deal with it.”

  “The Wayfarer spoke to you?” Messy seemed stunned, trying to follow but several sentences behind.

  “Yeah. It happened once before, when we went to the temple. I’ll tell you sometime. She told me that the expedition is trapped in a Delve. And… possibly some of them, maybe even a lot of them, are dead. We need to try to help them.”

  “Oh, okay.” Messy nodded.

  “And I need your help to convince Captain Pirta and everyone else. Do you think you can help me do that?”

  “I…” Messy still sounded half out of it, her eyes constantly flicking away downwards from Ana’s.

  “Do you need to sleep on it?”

  “Yeah.”

  “All right. Let’s talk again in the morning,” Ana said and began to rise to get ready for bed. She had a night shirt and some fresh underwear with her in a bag, along with some of the fibrous sticks and mouth cleansing paste that both Touanne and many other stores sold.

  Ana didn’t get far before Messy’s hands on her arms stopped her.

  “Ana,” Messy said, still with that same intensity in her eyes. “Can— can I kiss you?”

  Ana actually saw Messy. The slight flush on her face, the slight sheen on her lips, and she wondered how Messy’s question could have possibly surprised her. And then she surprised herself by simply answering, “Okay. Yeah.”

  This time it was more than just a peck. And while Ana didn’t miss kissing the way she did with cuddling and other “safe” contact, while it wasn’t something she really thought about or desired, goddamn could it feel nice sometimes.

  Ana woke up in the middle of the night bawling into her pillow, her body wracked with heaving sobs. She had two ways of dealing with extreme stress. Beating a sandbag until she passed out from exhaustion was one. This was the other.

  Only this time she wasn’t alone. Messy didn’t say a word. She just put her arms around Ana, pulled her face into her chest, and gently sang her back to sleep while running her fingers through her hair.

  Ana didn’t mind kissing. It could be nice — very nice even — at the right time and with the right person. But this, being held and comforted by someone who truly cared, was so much better than any kiss.

  “I believe you.”

  Those were the first words out of Messy's mouth the next morning, spoken into the top of Ana’s head as Messy held her from behind.

  “I never said it last night and I should have, so… I believe you. About the Wayfarer speaking to you.”

  The last bit of tension left Ana’s shoulders then. She'd known that she wanted to hear those words, but not how much they would affect her. It was almost scary; she wasn't used to any one person’s opinion of her being so important. Maybe it was because of her steadily rising Connection?

  “Ana?”

  She heard the slight tinge of worry in Messy's voice and realized that she hadn't answered. That was fair. She had woken her up in the middle of the night, crying so hard that it made her stomach hurt. A little worry was to be expected.

  “Sorry, Mess,” she said, rolling over so they were face to face. “I was a little too in my own head. Thank you. It’s a huge relief to hear that.”

  She got a sleepy smile and a finger lightly stroking her jaw in response. From that, and the soft way Messy was looking at her, she thought that she was about to be kissed again. She wouldn't have stopped Messy if that was what she'd wanted; last night had been nice, and Messy hadn't tried to push any further. That just made it easier to enjoy.

  She was almost disappointed when Messy spoke instead. “So what do we do now? We need to talk to Mamtass, don't we? With him backing you, Captain Pirta should at least listen.”

  “Uh, yeah,” Ana said. She’d said the same thing to the Wayfarer.

  “And… Pirta will need to conscript more people, won’t she?”

  “Yeah.”

  “The militia we have, we won't be enough. And if we leave…”

  “Anyone left behind would need to be able to defend themselves,” Ana finished for her. “But I don't plan to leave anyone behind. We need everyone.”

  “Wow. Okay.” Messy lay back, staring at the ceiling. A determined note crept into her voice. “Okay. I’ll see what I can do. Let’s get breakfast.”

  “What?”

  “You still have a class to teach, sweetie. You need to eat.”

  “Not that. What do you mean ‘you’ll see what you can do?’”

  “Just what I said. But more specifically, I meant that I’ll talk to Mamtass. I thought that if I go to him about what I experienced last night he may be more willing to support you.”

  “Oh. Right, yeah. I’d been thinking that I wouldn’t mention my… conversation to him until I was sure that he’d listen, unless things become desperate. The goddess—” Ana’s voice hitched. This was insane. She was saying something utterly insane. “The goddess,” she tried again, “said that she’d give Mamtass and anyone else here who prays to her the same message that you got.”

  “Then I’m sure that everything will be fine. Now come on. We don’t have all that long before you need to be at the yard.”

  With Ana’s credentials already established, and no one eager to be chosen as the volunteer for the day’s demonstrations, the training sessions that morning went much smoother than those the previous day. She showed how to break joints this time. This was mostly for the benefit of those who specialized in blunt weapons or magical attacks that caused similar damage, but she figured that anyone could use it. If you’re unarmed, knowing how to sprain or break a knee could be a literal life-saver.

  Ana again followed Messy’s advice, focusing on how what she was trying to teach her students would help them defend each other. She didn’t just tell them how to quickly disable or kill an opponent; she told them that a quick, effective attack was the best way to save the friend next to or behind them. Just like the previous afternoon, that seemed to make the students more receptive.

  “Thank you,” she told Messy, the first thing she did when Petra’s group started trickling into the yard. “For your advice yesterday, and for believing in me. It’s made my day so much easier.”

  “Glad to hear it. And since you’re in a good mood, I might as well make it better: I think that we’ll be able to convince Mamtass.”

  “Great! What happened?”

  “Well, I told him. How I’d never gotten such a strong and clear response to my prayers before, how exciting it was, all that. And he congratulated me and told me to keep praying and so on, and then he tried to convince me to become a priestess… anyway, I’m sure that I saw recognition in his face.”

  “How much did you tell him?”

  “Only what I got on my own, when I prayed, but I told him pretty much everything about that. How I feel that the goddess wants me to stay close to you, and to support you. That you’re the one who’s going to get us out of this mess. And I’m sure that I saw him nodding along before he caught himself. He must have received the same message!”

  “So should I go talk to him?”

  “Um…” Messy chewed her lip as she thought about it. “Not yet,” she decided. “Tomorrow, maybe. Unless you think it’s too urgent.”

  “No, it’s better not to fuck this up by going in too early. Will you talk to him again tomorrow?”

  “Sure.”

  “Tomorrow, then. After you’ve talked to him.”

  Messy nodded, then smiled impishly. “So… do I get a reward for being so helpful?”

  “Like what?” There were a few people looking at them, and as nice as that kiss the previous night had been, Ana was not going to do that in public.

  “Well, you need a volunteer again today, right?”

  “You know I’m just going to throw you in the dirt and twist your joints and stuff like that, right?”

  “I’m very well aware.”

  Ana rolled her eyes, but couldn’t help smiling. “Fine. You’re today’s dummy. Now go on and get in line with the others.”

  Messy smile went from impish to truly wicked.

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