Lily hurt all over. She could only listen as Lady Iris's remaining soldiers recovered themselves and went to their tasks. The sound of boots crunching over broken glass weaved itself through Lily's fractured awareness. Her fading consciousness was indistinguishable from Slumber closing in. Perhaps it was Slumber, finally come to collect its toll for the Barriers she had cast to get this far. She had been so close to saving Marigold and Vetch, but not close enough. She tried to ward off the Slumber sensation. It felt strange.

  Looking up through tunneled vision, she saw a swordsman approaching her. Two others were moving to flank Fae. The one who had wielded the length of cord retrieved it from the ground. Lady Iris stepped directly before Marigold and cradled the old mage's creased chin in her fingers.

  "You see how this ends when you go against me," she chided. "But I will forgive all of this—all of it, Mage-Matron—if you simply resume your duties and teach me. Teach me how to cast Barriers with Intent, so I can become a master."

  Lily watched as Marigold lifted her eyes and peered through her hanging silver hair at her former apprentice. She appeared to chew her lip in consideration, making the wrinkles in her face more prominent. Then, she thrust her jaw forward and spat directly in Lady Iris's face. "No and never."

  Uttering a sound that was equal parts surprise and disgust, Iris swept herself back from Marigold. She pawed spittle from her eyes, then looked at her hands as if to be certain of how thoroughly she had been rebuffed. Staring down at her splayed fingers, her face became a picture of rage so all-consuming that tears formed in her eyes and slid down her flushed cheeks.

  Along with that rage, magic blossomed. Not the kind of magic Lily had known and felt drawn to since she was a child, but a corrupted corpse flower of sorcery so powerful that it oppressed her like a physical weight. Even Marigold appeared to cringe back from her once-student, though she could not move away.

  When it seemed this magic would blaze out of control and engulf everything, Iris became very still and, visibly, she calmed herself, her bosom rising and falling with rapid breaths that gradually slowed. Without even looking at Marigold, she said in a voice devoid of emotion, "Have it your way then, Mage-Matron. If you will not teach me, there are others who will ... and I will find them."

  A look of horror passed over Marigold's face at those words, and Lily felt they must carry some significance she was not privy to. But she hadn't time to dwell on it as, suddenly, she felt Lady Iris gather her magic into a fine point and twist her wrist in a telltale gesture. The Barrier sarcophagus encasing Marigold began to slowly constrict. As the air was squeezed out of her, she grunted in alarm, unable to take a breath in.

  Lily's throat went dry, knowing she witnessed the imminent death of her beloved teacher, the woman who had guided her and doted on her as a loving grandparent would for all the years they had known each other. She was the only one who could prevent this. But there was a more pressing threat she had to survive first.

  The soldier tasked with finishing her off flicked his sword nonchalantly in his hand as he came to stand before her. "A shame," he muttered to himself, pulling back his blade to ready his killing stab.

  There was no time to think about whether she could do it or not. Either she succeeded or she would die. Instinctively, Lily flashed her hand out before her, sweeping her index finger in a tight circle before the man, just as she had seen Marigold do before. To her vast surprise and relief, the compact ring of the manacle-like Barrier she had envisaged appeared around the swordsman's wrist. It wasn't perfect, but it arrested his sword thrust instantly with the blade's tip hovering only inches from her breast.

  That threat neutralized, Lily scrambled quickly to her feet and away from the man. The motion made her lightheaded. Shaking the sensation off, she summoned all the remaining strength she had. The next spell she planned would be much more difficult. She would have to get it exactly right. Even as she saw her Mage-Matron suffocating, and felt rising panic at the sight, Lily forced herself to take a slow breath and become calm, focused. Lady Iris was engrossed in her own spell, admiring it, making the constriction happen slowly. Lily closed her eyes and let her sensitivity to magic tell her where the sarcophagus Barrier was. She pinpointed its power, its placement. Then, opening her eyes again half-lidded, she sent all the magical strength she could muster down through her arm and passed her hand across Marigold and the Barrier crushing her.

  The Barrier disappeared as if never there. Mage Marigold dropped to the floor, gasping in precious breaths. The negating of such a powerful spell staggered Lily but, at the same time, uplifted her confidence. Dispelling such a grotesque perversion of magic felt like correcting a wrong. She seized on that feeling and passed her hand over the Barrier caging Fae. It, too, disappeared. The panthegrunn sprung forward at Lady Iris as a great lioness springs to the kill. In the wake of her mad charge, Lily swayed on her feet and dropped to all fours.

  "No more Barriers, Lily," Marigold choked out. "Enough." The old master mage struggled up onto one knee, her face carrying all the pain borne through her aged body. "Get to Vetch."

  Upon seeing her masterful Barrier sarcophagus dispelled, Lady Iris turned to confront Lily, only to find herself once again faced with a raging panthegrunn bearing down on her. It was all she could do to cast the simplest Barrier possible in front of her, a shield between herself and Fae.

  Shakily, Marigold waved Iris's shield out of existence. Fae's hooves pounded the littered floor. Time seemed to slow for Lily as she watched the fear of the inevitable seep into Lady Iris's eyes. The raven-haired mage cast another shimmering golden shield in front of herself, and just as quickly Marigold dispelled it. Fae lowered her horns. An inarticulate cry of horror burbled up from Iris's mouth. She raised her arm once more.

  With not a moment to spare, one of Iris's soldiers grabbed her and threw her bodily out of the panthegrunn's path. Iris crumpled to the floor in a heap. But the man who had saved his mistress from such a grim fate instead suffered it in her place. A sound like a maul striking raw meat cracked through the chamber as Fae's head slammed into him and one horn gored him through his torso as if his armor wasn't there. For one grotesque moment, the man's lifeless body dangled from Fae's horn like a puppet, then she tossed her head and he was flung over her broad, pantherine back to the floor, broken.

  Fae whipped around, searching for the target she had been denied, forcing the remaining soldiers to scatter out of her way. Her shoulders and back soaked with fresh blood, the panthegrunn stomped one of her great hooves down on the floor and let loose with a thunderous roar that caused bits of plaster to fall from the walls.

  Though their faces betrayed their fear, the soldiers had not forgotten their orders, nor did they take the death of their comrade lightly. Two of them regained their composure enough to again converge on Fae. Despite the ferocity she put on display, it was evident how exhausted she was. She panted heavily, her tongue hanging slack from her open maw. Her ability to retaliate against the circling soldiers was quickly dwindling. Anticipating an opening, the soldiers moved like jackals, waiting for their prey's weariness to overcome her instinct to survive.

  As those two moved in on Fae, another saw her chance to eliminate Marigold. With dagger in hand, she made a move to strike the old mage from behind. Through wavering vision, Lily pushed herself to gather her magic within her mind. A simple Barrier was all she needed, just something to stop the knife-wielder, but it felt like she fought against an avalanche to prepare even the simplest of Castings. She raised her hand, but Marigold was a step ahead. The old mage sensed her attacker's approach and, with two quick hand motions, bound the soldier's knife arm and legs in ethereal golden bands.

  Marigold grunted and rose to her feet. "No more, Lily!" she called.

  Even as she spoke, the knife-wielding soldier was freed. Lady Iris had retreated to a corner of the hall, from there dispelling the restricting bands. Her voice rose over the chamber, compelling her soldier. "Kill her now! All of you, do your jobs! Do not fear them. Their Barriers cannot cause harm. Just strike!"

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  Lily saw the truth of Iris's words. She and Marigold could defend themselves—even confound the soldiers—but they could not use their magic to attack in the way Lady Iris could. Putting that into practice, the raven-haired mage lashed out with her magic, casting spells meant to constrict Marigold and bind her in place for the marauding soldier's blade. Marigold dispelled these before they could form, then cast new Barriers of her own to delay the knife-wielder, only for Lady Iris to dispel those in turn and attack anew.

  It became like a magical tug-of-war. Spell after spell, Casting after Casting, back and forth. Marigold was driven backward, the aged mage tiring visibly, yet somehow still holding her own, fending off both rival mage and stalking soldier. But Marigold's inability to go on the offensive with her spells left her at a disadvantage. Unable to match her once-apprentice's ability to make Barriers move and reshape themselves, she could only delay the inevitable. The soldier inched closer every time her mistress set her free, edging step by step toward Marigold. When she was close enough, she surged at the old mage, aiming to plunge her knife home before Marigold could prevent it.

  "Mari!" Lily screamed, and desperately flung a Barrier that stayed the soldier's arm.

  That magic had hardly solidified when Lily felt a stabbing, squeezing sensation within her chest. She gasped and convulsed in pain. Looking past Marigold, she witnessed Lady Iris slowly drawing her fingers closed in a spell that Lily could feel inside of her, like a parasite slowly killing off her life force. But, that wasn't possible. What was this disturbing new magic?

  "No!" Marigold yelled.

  And then the pain was gone, and Lily looked up to see her Mage-Matron staggering to one side on wobbly legs following whatever she had done to dispel the killing magic.

  Marigold's voice was unexpectedly strong as she shouted at Lily, "Damn you, girl! No more spells! Don't you fall into Slumber. One of us must survive this. Find your man now and flee! Leave this to me!"

  And turning her back on Lily, Mage Marigold lifted her arms high. The air became dense with magic. The master mage held back no longer. If she could not use her magic to attack as a battle mage could, the next spell she wrapped around the knife-wielding soldier was still powerful enough to resonate like a physical blast from one. The swordswoman recoiled as new, more solid Barriers joined Lily's and immobilized her entirely. Marigold then turned and cast identical spells upon the men taking stabs at Fae, so they, too, were incapacitated.

  Forceful, countering magic burst through Marigold's, as Lady Iris responded with Dispellings. At least, they felt like Dispellings, yet nothing resulted. To Iris's apparent surprise, Marigold's Barriers held. The confident look in Iris's eyes wavered. The raven-haired mage drew in a breath and tried again. Nothing. Fear, anger, and confusion bled into the room's atmosphere from her as she tried a third time and, finally, succeeded in dispelling Marigold's stronger magic. But it was clear to see how it had cost her.

  The brush with failure seemed to fuel the powerful emotions escaping from Iris's mind along with her spells. Anger was foremost amongst them. It built and built, as a forge fire blazes up before the encouragement of the bellows. Using that anger, Iris finished freeing her remaining soldiers and then drew a tight Barrier around Fae. She set her aim next upon Marigold. But, before she could do anything more, Marigold deftly re-caged all of the soldiers at once and then painted a series of curving golden swathes through the air that hindered the motion of Iris's arms, causing her attack to falter.

  Iris responded by repositioning herself, dispelling Marigold's further attempts to bind her, and casting countering spells of her own. The two powerful mages faced off, casting, countering, and casting again. It was a duel of magic the likes of which Lily had thought only existed in storybooks. These were not warriors clashing steel, but it was a fight with stakes no less significant. With keen perception, Iris and Marigold both anticipated each other's intents by sensing the budding magic in their opponent's thoughts, their spells coming as fast as they could think them up and move their hands to cast them. The two mages wove magic around themselves like two axels encircled by great wheels of invisible energy.

  Through it all, Lady Iris split her attention between casting harm at Marigold and aiding her soldiers, forcing Marigold to juggle responses to multiple threats. The raven-haired mage began to laugh wildly at the power she unleashed, careless of the consequences of the spells she flung. In contrast, Marigold's aged face was the picture of concentration, the stooped old woman radiating power that she brandished with strategic exactitude. It was a fine line she walked, between spells powerful enough to protect herself, yet not so powerful as to invite Slumber on too soon.

  Both women wearied. Both visibly fended off Slumber. Yet, it was Marigold whose limbs began to shake with fatigue. Seeing this, Iris held her chin high and attacked ferociously and without restraint.

  Lily felt like it took her a lifetime to rise to her feet once more, and push herself toward the door beyond which she hoped to find Vetch. Slumber ate away at her. She desired only to fall over and rest. Reaching the doorway, she glanced back at Marigold. She could not be sure whether it was sweat streaming down the old mage's cheeks ... or tears. Turning her back on her Mage-Matron was the hardest thing she could think of doing.

  Before she could slip through the door, a firm hand grabbed her around the upper arm and wrenched her backward. Lily turned to look up into the face of the soldier who had been tasked with killing her, freed now by his mistress to finish the job. Sword poised in hand, he actually grinned at her. Lily clenched her eyes shut, preparing herself for the impending plunge of steel.

  Another hand grasped her by the shoulder—strong, comforting—and then a familiar body pressed flush against her back. There was a sound of pinging steel, followed by a pained cry. Lily opened her eyes and witnessed her attacker's grin become a grimace lined with blood.

  Vetch yanked his sword back out of the dead man's breast and kicked him aside, drawing Lily in safe against him.

  "Are you okay?" he asked her.

  Dumbstruck with relief, Lily burst into tears and buried her face against him, nodding into his shoulder. His embrace was firm and sheltering, but his skin was hot, and his hair was plastered to his pale forehead with sweat and blood.

  So much blood. He was soaked in it. His? Or someone else's? No matter which, Lily wanted nothing more than to stay in his arms, to comfort him, and be comforted by him. But he eased her away, telling her, "Stay here."

  Then, with sword readied, he ran for the two soldiers still trying to stab at Fae through the Barrier holding her in place. The panthegrunn had taken additional wounds, and the two men appeared poised to finish the job. The nearer of the two did not remark Vetch's advancing footfalls quickly enough to turn around. Vetch came in with a low, two-handed swing that hamstrung the back of the man's legs. As he fell to his knees with a scream, Vetch slew him with a returning slash to the neck.

  The second man squared himself to meet Vetch's charge, but Vetch surprised him by avoiding him altogether. It took Lily but a moment to discern Vetch's true aim. He charged directly for Lady Iris. At the sight of this maddened, blood-soaked swordsman rushing toward her, Iris's eyes grew wide. Quickly, she passed her hand before herself, only to sway strangely on her feet and have to catch herself on the wall. No Barrier appeared. Lily felt a surge of hope. Was the Lady of Black Crux finally too fatigued to cast any more magic?

  "Kill him," Iris sputtered. Then, more forcefully, "Don't allow him near me!"

  With that burst of fear, she seemed to gather her wits about her. Lily's heart sank upon feeling the woman's magic flare up stronger. Recklessly, Lady Iris drew a solid curtain of a Barrier all around her, isolating herself in a corner of the great chamber.

  Vetch reached her too late. Walled off from the raven-haired mage, all he could do was test his sword through the Barrier. It passed clean through, but the golden, translucent curtain stopped his hand, leaving the point of his blade short of its target. Iris cast a mocking, simpering pout at him, and he could only stare his hatred back at her.

  "Vetch!" Lily shouted.

  He turned to her warning just in time to deflect a blow from the first soldier to reach him. On the heels of that, the woman who'd been menacing Marigold—having collected a proper blade from one of her fallen comrades—directed a vicious stab at Vetch's stomach. This, he side-stepped. However, the Barrier that had prevented him from reaching Lady Iris was now a wall at his back. The two remaining Black Crux soldiers used it to hem him in, coordinating their attacks, and he was able to do little more than fend them off with desperate parries.

  Vetch's grim expression showed the focus he maintained in order to keep himself alive. There was no room for error, evident when the first soldier caught him a blow to the face with his sword's cross guard. Vetch winced and grunted in pain, but kept his composure enough to kick the man hard in the knee. That bought him only enough time to get his blade up to block the overhead swing that followed from the swordswoman.

  In panic, Lily looked to Marigold for help, but her Mage-Matron had sunk to her hands and knees, head bowed in exhaustion. The remaining magic that Lily could feel from her was as small and fleeting as a guttering candle flame. Returning her gaze to Vetch, she could tell he would not last much longer under the uneven assault. An overwhelming sense of hopelessness filled her. Vetch fought hard, and with skill, but it wouldn't matter in the end. The two soldiers had only to wear him down, and that wouldn't take much longer. Vetch had already been so weary and feverish before they'd left their inn room the prior day. She could not imagine what he'd further endured since entering the castle.

  The swordsman landed a grazing slash across Vetch's midsection that trickled blood through his sliced shirt. As the wound doubled him over, the other soldier lifted her sword high. Lily recognized the fatal blow about to come.