The large hole in the ceiling had produced a pile of snow-covered debris on the floor of the warehouse. It also meant sunlight now illuminated what presumably was normally dimly lit. Not that the light revealed a lot other than collapsed shelves and walls, burnt remains of the ship parts that were stored here, and piles of what looked like a mixture of ash and snow. Very little seemed salvageable, and Meleng was glad to know no one had been trapped in here when it burned.

Feviona strode partway into the room, her head moving about, looking in all directions.

“You’ll want to be careful,” the harbourmaster said. “I can’t promise anything in there is stable. Another part of the roof collapsed just two days ago.”

“Don’t worry, we’ll be careful,” Meleng said.

“So be it. You get hurt, it’s not on my head.” With a shrug, the harbourmaster strode away.

Meleng gulped and stepped through the doorway. Feviona knew what she was doing.

He hoped.

He hurried over to Feviona, who had gone up to one of the still-standing support beams. It was blackened and parts of it were noticeably thinner than other parts, splinters protruding from where bits had broken off.

She gave him a smile as he reached her. “Watch me carefully. I will go slow.” At his nod, she began tracing symbols onto the burnt wood with her finger. The equation combined stability with length, some reconstruction, and...something else he didn’t recognise. When she completed it, she glanced at him, then traced the activation symbol. Immediately, some of the blackened wood regained some of its original colour. The areas where bits had broken off partially reconstructed themselves. In a matter of moments, the effect travelled up the full length of the beam. It was still in bad shape, but not quite as bad as it had been.

She looked at him again and waited for his response.

Meleng took a deep breath. This was a strange place to have his first proper lesson, and his heart was beating very fast. He knew she would say he shouldn’t be so nervous, but he was anyway. He was also taking a lot of time answering her unspoken question, so he quickly signed, “I think I followed most of it, but there was one symbol at the end I’ve never seen before.”

She looked at him a moment longer, while his heart beat ever faster. Then she smiled. “Good. I didn’t expect you to follow everything. I just wanted you to see. From this moment on, whenever we are together, I want you to watch everything I do as closely as circumstances will permit.”

Meleng nodded several times quickly, blinking back the tears of happiness in his eyes. When Feviona had offered to train him, he’d barely been able to believe it. However, she had needed time to recover from their recent ordeals, and the week of waiting had been torturous.

He closed his eyes for a moment, and then opened them again, just to be sure nothing had changed. The only change was Feviona reaching out to him. This was real.

Feviona wiped a tear from the corner of his eye. Then she stepped back several paces, her wings spreading slightly until she was in an open area. “Wait for me a moment.” Her wings spread to their full width and she leapt into the air, shooting towards the hole in the ceiling.

Meleng loved watching Feviona fly. She had carried him with her a few times, but he much preferred to watch her from the ground. When he had first met Jorvan, he had been enthralled by his ability to fly, but it was much more so with Feviona. Jorvan, himself, admitted she was the better flyer, and there was no denying the truth of that. She had such grace, turning and flipping over, barely needing to slow to change directions. Her wings made the subtlest of movements to beat against the air and propel her in whichever direction she was going. Watching her fly made Meleng realise why so many humans thought of Isyar as angels.

She flew around the hole in the ceiling, tracing equations at various locations while never fully stopping. After that, she flew about the parts of the ceiling still intact, tracing more equations on them, and then the other support beams. Meleng did his best to watch everything she did. It was impossible to see any of the exact equations, but he wasn’t about to start ignoring her instructions only moments after she had given them. Even if he couldn’t recreate the equations, he could start to appreciate how she moved and cast spells at the same time.

It only took a couple minutes before she landed back in the same spot she had taken off from. “That should keep the place from collapsing on top of us.” She walked over to the pile of debris under the hole, knelt down, and motioned Meleng to join her.

Meleng knelt beside her. “What are we going to do?”

“Your first lesson. Check this for magical remnants.”

Meleng looked over the debris—a mixture of burnt wood, remnants of boxes, and scorched bits of metal, all covered in snow. “Will there be any?”

Feviona shook her head. “It’s been much too long. I just want to see how you do it.”

“Right,” Meleng said, then grimaced as he realised he’d spoken it aloud rather than sign it. She made no reaction though. He knew she was learning Arnorgue, so maybe she had recognised the word, or perhaps she just didn’t care, and only wanted him to do what she’d asked him to.

With a gulp, he reached out at a piece of timber and traced. It was a simple, straight-forward equation that took almost no power. As expected, it produced no results. He looked at Feviona, his heart beating fast again.

Her head was tilted slightly and she eyed him for a moment. “Passable, but why didn’t you alter the equation to fit your own physiology? You know your capabilities and reserves, don’t you?”

“It’s such a small amount of power, I didn’t see the need,” he said.

She frowned slightly. “Yes, it is very small, but it could be even smaller. Every bit of power conserved is important. It can mean the difference between life and death in battle.”

“But I’m not really a battle wizard,” Meleng said. “I’m not good enough for that.”

Her chest shook momentarily with silent laughter. “But I am, and I am your…” She leaned back a bit while she though. “I’m not sure what to call myself. I’m not your diare, but the relationship here is similar. You may not be a battle wizard now, but when I’m finished training you, you will be.”

Meleng nodded. She had a point.

“Now, do it again.”

With another nod, Meleng reached out again and traced the equation onto the piece of timber. This time, he modified it to more closely align with his body. The difference in power consumption was so small, he wasn’t even sure he could tell the difference, but Feviona gave him a smile.

“Better. Another reason to lower the power is we are going to be doing this a lot. It will add up. Now, we need to work on your base forms.” She pointed to a large iron screw. “Do it again with this.”

Once more, Meleng reached out, but this time, as he started the equation, Feviona placed her own hand over his, lining up her fingers with his. He shivered and slipped, but she took hold of his hand and moved it back into position. Then they traced the equation together, moving slowly, Feviona guiding his fingers. When they activated the spell, something extraordinary happened. The usual tiny drain of energy occurred, but there was also a feeling...a sensation… He couldn’t quite describe it. It was like a tiny shiver, a tiny thrill. It reminded him a little of the thrill he got when he kissed Sinitïa. It wasn’t exactly the same, but there were some similarities.

He pulled his hand away and stared at Feviona. “What was that?”

She stared back. “What was what?”

“There was…” He struggled to figure out how to describe it. “A sensation...a…”

Her eyes widened and her chest shook with laughter again. “That was the effect of our sharing our power. Have you never experienced it before?”

Meleng shook his head. “No, I didn’t even know it was possible.”

“But your previous teacher. You never experienced it with him?”

Meleng shook his head again. “No, never.” His teacher, Hittlevar, had demonstrated forms, and had watched as Meleng repeated them. He had made comments and pointed out mistakes. He had criticised and praised, but he had never guided in such a physical manner. “Do Isyar frequently share power like that?”

Feviona shrugged. “Depends. Only enchanters can share power, and even then it tends to only happen between diare and siare during training. It is much less common in other occasions, but in the Élite, we sometimes have reason to do it. It can be a very intimate thing. The exact sensation is different between different people, and it will be more intense the more power we share. I’m sorry. I didn’t realise you didn’t know. Otherwise, I would have warned you.”

“It’s okay.”

She smiled at him. “Good, because we will be doing it a lot.”

He actually rather liked the idea of that, though he didn’t say anything.

They went through it together several times more, each time Feviona guiding his fingers and the shapes of the symbols. Sometimes, she made a brief comment between runs, but mostly she let her hands correct the shape of his base forms. Meleng found himself enjoying the slight thrill at the end of each equation, and on a couple occasions had to take a moment to check that this was all real.

Eventually, Feviona said, “Now, I want you to go around the room, checking everywhere for magical residue. Remember what I have shown you. The more precise your forms are, the better your spells will be and the less power they will drain. I will check on you occasionally.”

“What are you going to do?” Meleng asked.

“Look for non-magical clues to what happened here.”

So, Meleng moved slowly around the room, testing everything in reach for magical residue. Feviona occasionally came over and guided his hands, or later on, just nodded approvingly. Despite the tiny drain each casting had on his power reserves, he soon started to appreciate Feviona’s insistence that he modify the equations to suit his needs. That tiny drain added up and after what had to have been a couple hours, he was starting to tire.

He also started to get bored, though that really wasn’t that different from when he’d first started his apprenticeship as a child. Hittlevar had had him do many repetitive exercises, often for hours at a time. Hopefully, this time, he would progress onto more complicated things more quickly. Of course, the boredom was made worse by the fact that, not surprisingly, none of the castings ever revealed any magical residue.

Until one did.

A tiny spark of energy leapt from a metal nail lying on the floor, and Meleng pulled back his hand. Not from pain—the spark bore with it only the mildest of discomfort—but from surprise. He licked his lips. Magical residue always had a flavour to it, which identified the type of magic. But the sensation was so fleeting, and he had been so surprised, he had completely missed it.

He retraced the equation and the little spark leapt at his fingers again. No, he hadn’t missed the flavour last time. He’ just been too surprised by it to accept it as real. Enchantment magic had a tinny taste to it, conjuration was slightly salty, and elementalism was sweet. Mentalism could be the hardest to notice. Its flavour was so slight, it was hard to describe, though bitter might be the closest. But this wasn’t any of those. It was sharp and slightly spicy.

“Uh...Feviona?”

She looked up from where she had been carefully moving rubble out of the way for the last several minutes, and he motioned her over to him.

“I found magical residue.” He pointed at the nail.

She looked at him quizzically, then knelt down and traced an equation on the nail. A little spark shot out at her finger. After a confused glance at Meleng, she did it again. Then again. She repeated the equations on other bits of rubble. More sparks shot at her fingers or her wings, depending what she used to write the equations. She moved quickly, tracing out an area near the back wall, roughly rectangular, a few feet on each side.

Eventually, she stopped and looked to Meleng. “This is bad.”

“I...I don’t recognise the magic,” Meleng said.

“Neither do I.”

Meleng gulped. He had been hoping she would reveal that magic could sometimes have different flavours under certain precise conditions. A feeble hope. If such a thing were possible, he would have at least read about it, even if he had never experienced it. This new flavour indicated a lost discipline. It wasn’t quite as shocking as it might have been a couple years ago—Felitïa’s staff contained other disciplines, and she had mentioned encountering necromancy in Ninifin—but it was still concerning. Who could be using lost magic?

Feviona walked into the centre of the area, squatted down, and started tracing more equations. No sparks danced at her fingertips, so she was doing something different. Meleng started to move closer to get a better view, but a shape caught his attention.

Standing beside the pile of rubble under the hole in the ceiling was a figure, shrouded in shadow, except… The sun was high in the sky, shining brightly through the ceiling hole and fully illuminating everything below. The figure wasn’t shrouded in shadows; it was just completely black. Human in shape but with pitch-black skin—skin that flaked and peeled, revealing blackened bones beneath. It turned its head to look at Meleng with empty eye sockets.

“Feviona!”

Burn.

There was a brief hiss, and flames ignited all over the figure. It pointed with a burning arm and the fire shot forwards, straight towards Meleng.

Something ploughed into Meleng from the side, knocking him over, and wrapping wings around him. He and Feviona tumbled on the floor, landing with her on top of him, shielding him. The heat of the fire around them was intense, and Feviona’s face contorted in pain. She must have done something to protect herself from the flames, but they were clearly still having an effect on her.

After a moment, the heat lessened and Feviona mouthed, “Run.” Then she kissed him on the cheek, let go of him, and leapt to her feet, spinning around as she did so, her wings spreading wide.

Burn.

Meleng scrambled from under her and to his feet. He ran aside just as another stream of flames landed where he had just been. Hot air blew over him, pushed along by the beat of Feviona’s wings as she flew into the air.

Meleng looked around frantically for the best route to the exit. He had to cross nearly the entire warehouse, and get around the creature in the process. There was so much rubble in here, running was not an option. However, there was certainly lots of cover.

The creature, its entire body still on fire, took a few steps forward, leaving glowing embers where it stepped, even setting some of the rubble on fire once more.

Feviona flew over top of it, her sword passing through its neck, decapitating it.

But the creature merely bent over, picked up its still-burning head, and placed it back on its neck, where it...fused back on? Whatever it did, it stayed in place.

Meleng didn’t waste any more time, moving as fast as he dared through this deathtrap of a warehouse. He did his best to keep remains of shelves, beams, and other rubble between him and the creature.

Burn.

He heard the hiss again and the whoosh of the flames shooting out, but they didn’t come towards him. With a grimace, he kept moving. He couldn’t afford to look back and see how Feviona was doing. He had to get out and get help.

It felt like forever. There were crashes behind him and the few times he caught a glimpse of something, he could see that the whole place was going up in flames again.

There was open space the last few yards to the entrance, so Meleng stood up to his full height and ran.

Burn.

The sound of that voice in his head was chilling amidst the intense heat around him. He dove through the open doorway just as flames shot over where he had just been.

Outside, people were already reacting to the sounds coming from the warehouse, running and yelling for the fire brigade. Meleng jumped to his feet and ran along the trail towards the quay. Behind him came a loud crash, but he didn’t look back right away.

Up ahead, the harbourmaster pushed through the gathering crowd. “What the hell have you two done?”

“Not us, sir,” Meleng said. “I swear.” He finally allowed himself to look back.

The warehouse didn’t look too different from this angle, except smoke was pouring through the doors and flames were visible through the smoke. There was no indication what had made the crash, though Meleng suspected part of the warehouse that he couldn’t see from here had collapsed.

What about Feviona? Was she all right?

There she was! Flying above the warehouse, out of harm’s way for the moment.

“That man’s on fire!” someone yelled.

The fire creature, whatever it was, had come out of the warehouse and was walking slowly towards the quay.

“You! You!” the harbourmaster yelled. “Get blankets to smother flames! Go!”

“That’s not a man,” Meleng said.

The harbourmaster waved a finger in Meleng’s face. “If this is you and that Isyar’s fault…” Then he started towards the fire creature, his hands held up. “Please don’t panic.”

“That’s not a man!” Meleng repeated, but the harbourmaster didn’t listen.

“You need to drop and smother the flames. We’re getting help.”

Burn.

Meleng tried to grab the harbourmaster’s shoulder to pull him away, but couldn’t reach him. There was the now-familiar hiss and whoosh, but the flames didn’t hit the harbourmaster. Feviona had flown between the creature and the harbourmaster, the flames washing over her side and shoulder, knocking her sideways. Sweat dripped from her forehead, but she seemed otherwise unharmed.

All around, panic set in. People ran screaming. The harbourmaster turned round, his face pale. He stared for a moment, then shoved Meleng towards the creature and ran.

“Hey!” Meleng stumbled, but regained his footing. Then he, too, ran, calling out to the panicking people. “Water! We need water! Lots of it!”

But no one paid any attention to him.

Burn.

Again, the hiss and whoosh, but no flames hit Meleng. He didn’t even feel the heat from them, so the creature must have shot some other direction. There was no time to worry about who, if anyone, it had hit. They needed water. But they were in a harbour. There was a lot of water. It was just a matter of how to use it.

He ran to the quay.

Burn.

At the quay, there was panic too, but a few people were pulling up buckets of water from the harbour. Meleng ran over to them.

“What the hell is that thing?” one of the men said.

“No idea,” Meleng said, “but hopefully water will help.”

“We’ve sent word out to the ships,” the man said. “Hopefully, they can provide barrels of water. And we’ve got a pump coming.”

“We hope,” another man said. “That was before that creature appeared. If the people getting the pump saw it and panicked…”

“Thank the gods for that Isyar, though,” the first man said.

Burn.

Meleng looked back. Feviona looped through the air, narrowly avoiding another fiery stream. She then circled back towards the warehouse.

“Where’s she going?” somebody asked.

“She’s distracting it, drawing it away from us,” Meleng said.

Sure enough, the creature turned and walked towards the warehouse.

“How much water have you collected?” Meleng asked.

“We’ve got about a dozen buckets so far,” the first man said and pointed, “and those barrels over there.”

“Gather them all together. As close as you can, right by the edge of the quay.”

“They’re already pretty close together,” the man said.

“But right at the edge,” Meleng said. “Please, trust me.”

The man nodded, and motioned to some other people, who began dragging the water barrels over. Meleng hurried over and helped them. Within a minute or so, they had the buckets and barrels grouped together at the edge of the quay, between two ships that were themselves between two of the piers. Meleng then bent over and began tracing equations on the buckets and barrels.

“What are you doing?” one of the men asked.

“Taking a risk.” When he finished the last equation, he stood up, raised his hands, and began waving at Feviona. “All of you, get yourselves to safety now. You’ll want to be at least fifty feet away from here. Move!”

“You can’t bring it over here,” someone said. “The ships!”

“I know. Trust me, please. Feviona...the Isyar, I mean, already beheaded that thing and it just picked it up and put it back on. There’s only one way we’re going to stop that thing. Now please, go!”

A few people hesitated, but soon, they all ran, some stopping other people from coming closer to the area and guiding them away.

Meleng continued to wave for Feviona, though he couldn’t even be sure she’d be able to see him well enough from this distance. What he was doing was a risk. A huge risk. He doubted what he was trying to do would kill that thing, but hopefully, it would neutralise it. He just needed to get one equation right. Not the ones on the buckets and barrels. There was a lot of water in them, but he doubted it was enough. At best, that water would just slow it down a little. No, the buckets and barrels were just the decoy. It was the equation after them that mattered.

If he could get Feviona’s attention. What she was doing was noble, but she would tire eventually. She was amazing, but even she couldn’t go forever, and Meleng doubted that creature would ever tire. He began jumping as he waved, and screaming her name.

After an eternity, she turned and flew in his direction.

Meleng stopped waving and jumping, and backed up so the backs of his legs were touching the closest buckets. He glanced quickly about. People were watching, but holding well back. Crew on the nearest ships were lowering the rigging, but that wouldn’t be enough. If this didn’t work, those ships would go up fast, and the fire would likely spread. The Lustrous Rose was only a few berths away.

No, this had to work.

Feviona landed in front of him. She was sweating profusely, and her uniform was scorched. The entire left sleeve was gone and her arm was blistered and burnt. “You have something?”

He nodded. “Lure it close. To the quay. I need it on the quay, not just near it.”

“I will try.” She turned around and spread her wings.

Good gods, her back was horribly burnt, especially between her wings. She must have suffered that when she’d shielded him from the creature’s attack. Luckily, her wings didn’t look too badly affected, but still, she had to be in such pain. And her wounds from last week still hadn’t fully healed.

As she flew off, Meleng vowed to himself to get this right. He had to. Bending over, he began tracing connectors so he could get to a safe distance himself.

The creature was near the doors of the burning warehouse, heading along the street towards the quay. There were no other people in sight in that direction, but when it got closer again… Meleng couldn’t be sure he’d told people to stay back far enough. At least so far, they seemed to be listening.

Feviona flew straight towards it.

Burn.

She flipped over to the side, avoiding the flames, then flipped again, right over the top of the creature, landing behind it. Her sword cut clean through the creature’s shoulder, severing the arm. Then she leapt into the air again, and landed a short distance in front of it.

The creature reached down and picked up its arm with its other one, and reattached it.

Burn.

Feviona spread her wings and leapt over the ensuing blast, landing again just a little farther down the street towards the quay. She repeated this a few times, drawing the creature ever closer.

Meleng moved slowly to the side. He couldn’t move as far away as he’d told everyone else, as he had to get back in there quickly. While he had no idea what range that creature’s blasts had, he could be pretty certain he wouldn’t be far enough away once it was near the quay. And he definitely wouldn’t be far enough when he ran back in. He just needed to rely on his spells’ ability to slow it down, and Feviona’s ability to keep it distracted.

When its latest blast scorched the top of the tallest barrel, he knew it was almost time.

Feviona landed in front of the buckets and barrels, and looked over towards Meleng. He nodded, and she leapt into the air again.

The creature also turned its head to look in his direction, but before it could do anything else, Meleng activated the spells.

With multiple loud cracks, the buckets and barrels split apart, spraying water out. Meleng smiled. He’d even gotten the explosive angles reasonably correct, so most of the water went directly in the creature’s direction.

Steam hissed around the creature as its flames diminished somewhat.

Meleng ran, or rather, mostly slid across the slippery surface of the quay. He crashed into the wooden splinters that were all that remained of the barrels, and fell over. He clawed at the quay and pulled himself onto his knees.

Nearby, the steam was clearing and flames were sprouting over the creature’s pitch-black form.

Moving as fast as he could, Meleng scribbled the equation onto the quay. Then he started to stand, but his gaze fell on the creature’s feet, and he hesitated.

The creature wasn’t on the quay. It was still just a little too far back. This wasn’t going to work.

Burn.

Feviona landed behind it, and with a single swipe, she beheaded it again. Its head fell forward and rolled nicely onto the quay right beside Meleng. He jumped to his feet and ran, just as Feviona kicked the creature onto the quay.

There was no time be sure he was far enough away, so Meleng activated the spell.

There was a huge crash and Meleng’s next step did not find a surface to press down on. He found himself briefly tumbling, and then cold water surrounded him.

It was strange. Recently, he’d had a lot of trouble being sure things around him were real. But he didn’t doubt the reality now. The cold was so intense, and it was soaking into his clothes—his thick, winter clothes—weighing him down.

Time slowed down.

Meleng lashed out, kicking about. Which way was up? Why was it so hard to tell?

Gods, he couldn’t drown! He couldn’t die now! Not when there was so much good in his life now. He had a family now. He had Sinitïa. He had Feviona and Jorvan. People he loved and who loved him back.

He kicked and flailed some more. He couldn’t see anything. It was all bright and cloudy around him. Damn it, why was it so hard to find up? Gods, it was so cold.

Something hit his side. He grabbed for it, but he couldn’t find it. Then something else hit him, and he grabbed that. It was slick and splintery. Flotsam from the quay perhaps? It wasn’t very big, but he held on to it. It should point up.

His face broke the surface, the cold air feeling warm compared to the water, and he tried to breathe it in. It didn’t work so well. With a few coughs, he brought up the water in his lungs, and then breathed in the air.

Time sped up again.

“There he is! Man overboard!”

His vision was starting to clear. There was flotsam all around him, and he grabbed for one of the bigger pieces, letting go of the small one.

“Grab the lifebuoy, lad!”

Meleng clutched at the piece of plank he grabbed onto. Although it was reasonably large, the weight of his waterlogged clothes still pulled it down. Water splashed over his mouth and nose.

“The lifebuoy, lad! Grab it!”

He looked about. There it was—a thick cork ring with a rope attached—but it was some distance away. How was he supposed to get to it? If he let go of the plank, he’d surely drown.

“Get it closer to him!”

The rope went taught, pulling the ring up, back up to the deck of the nearby ship it had come from. Someone there grabbed it and threw it back again. This time, it landed closer.

Meleng grabbed for it with one hand, but he couldn’t quite reach it. His grip with his other hand slipped, and he tried to lunge forward. He went under again, choked on the water, but his hand grabbed something. He pulled himself forward, got his arm all the way around it, through the centre of the ring. His head broke the surface of the water again.

“He’s got it! Pull him up! Pull him up!”

Meleng clutched at the ring with all his strength, holding it against him as the people above pulled him first towards the ship, and then up the side. As his feet lifted out of the water, he wasn’t sure he could hold on any longer. He was so wet, so heavy, so cold, and the ring was wet and slick. It started to slip up his arm.

Then someone grabbed him. A warm body putting her arms around him from behind and lifting him up.

Feviona carried him the rest of the way up, and carefully laid him down on the deck. She kissed him on the forehead and stood up. “My champion. Beautifully done.”

Meleng coughed up some more water, as crewmembers rushed over to him.

“Take him to my cabin!” someone yelled. “Get him out of those clothes and get some dry blankets. We need to warm him up! Move it.”

As a pair of crewmembers lifted him up, Meleng reached out for Feviona’s hand and gave it a quick squeeze before they carried him away.