Page 68 of The Sundered Realms

Liris and Vhannor flashed their licenses at the guards and got to work immediately: the spell was close to active and huge, but despite its size there wasn’t much complexity to it.

“Do you want to dispel it?” Vhannor asked her.

Liris didn’t think he meant this as a test, but she knew she’d still feel like she’d failed if she said no. She didn’t exactly get a chance to practice dispelling all that often.

“Wait,” Shry said. “You’ve only been here a couple minutes. You’re already done?”

“Oh, it used an Algonese mathematical construct written in ancient Glaric with nexuses at each Rorgani calligraphic stroke, but that’s about it,” Liris said.

Vhannor nodded. “Yes, nothing especially complicated.”

Shry looked between them as if trying to decide if they were joking. At last she rolled her eyes and drawled, “Right, sounds perfectly straightforward. I suppose it’ll only take you a few minutes to finish, then?”

Ah, a timed test was just the thing to wake her up and focus her mind. Liris grinned. “Sure.”

This time was still so much more restful than her first. She felt like she knew what she was doing, and every movement she made in the spell circle was made more satisfying by the rush of certainty that she was actively, intentionally shaping magic and the world with her will and actions.

The demon portal spell flared and vanished.

Liris let out a breath and stepped away, glad she didn’t feel wobbly this time—just smug.

Yes, it had been an easy spell, but she knew enough now to know that. A couple months ago she couldn’t have even read a spell.

Vhannor had watched her, and his expression surprised her—sharp, tense. “We have company,” he told her.

Shry was turned away, and Liris followed her line of sight as a person sped toward them from the guards’ perimeter.

This was a corporeal magic specialist.

“Caster-messenger Damennol,” Vhannor murmured in Liris’ ear. “The same one who brought word to Embhullor.”

Damennol came to an abrupt stop before them. Liris had a new appreciation for the kind of control it took to adjust from high-speed to instant stillness without injury.

But while their form was perfect, their eyes were showing too much white.

Dropping into a bow they said, “Periannolu formally requests emergency aid from Special Operations.”

Liris frowned. They were already here for emergency aid, weren’t they?

It was Shry who asked, “Demons?”

Damennol shook his head. “Mercenary casters invading.”

Liris’ newly calmed heart thumped. She knew, obviously, that demon servants meant human casters, but she’d been so focused on training for demonic opponents the fact that she might have to fight humans with spells hadn’t fully sunk in.

“We know now why the message anchor was subverted—and which one—“

“This demon portal was a distraction, I take it,” Vhannor said.

“One of our Gates is under attack,” Damennol said bluntly. “The Dianor Gate is small and not much in use, so our own forces are overwhelmed because they were always supposed to be able to request backup—which they couldn’t manage swiftly with the message anchor compromised. Runners are on their way now, but they won’t be there before the Gate falls. We don’t know what kind of forces have gathered on the other side. But the Gate isn’t far from here. I know this is irregular, but can you help? At least to buy time? You’re the closest combat-grade caster.” He took a breath and added, “Please.”

Vhannor fixed them with his intense gaze. “Do you have the authority to negotiate terms for Periannolu?”

Damennol’s jaw clenched. “No.”

Nor surprising. They looked Gwenni, Periannolu’s indigenous minority that had a careful relationship with the ruling class. The government needed their expert land management more than ever after the Sundering, and it was a careful balance between giving them more bargaining power or making them more at risk of exploitation.

“Then officially,” Vhannor said, “without terms, Special Operations cannot intervene.”

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