For once, I was able to fight my instincts. My desire to hurl a stream of curses at Maggie would only deplete my air, and I was already running low on that.

I strained against my glass prison, finding it didn’t budge an inch. Glass is rather fragile, but deceptively strong under the right circumstances, and being entombed in a solid block of the stuff qualified. I found that I didn’t have enough room to change the positions of my fingers to cast another spell besides Iron Skin, which wasn’t going to help me at all.

Or was it? I strained the fingers of my left hand as far as I could, hoping I could change the shape of the Iron Skin. I leaned on my visualization of the spell, imagining it growing to the left. Spots were forming in my vision when I risked the last of my breath on another casting.

“Iron Skin!”

The results were mixed. I created a smaller set of energy armor over my left arm and shoulder to conserve energy, and a spiked pauldron as long as my forearm punched into the library’s air. I breathed greedily as I unsummoned the energy structure, my gasps turning into a pained grunt. Shards of glass ground against me as I tried to move, slashing thin gashes in my flimsy white dress shirt.

“Kiyo? Are you there?” No response. There would be no help.

I considered my resources. I still couldn’t move my hands well enough for another spell. Could I use Iron Skin to punch my way out? Not in time; I had to find Maggie before she could get away.

I wondered why I still felt something draining away my magic, when I noticed a more regular slice of red mixed in with the riot of colors from the stained-glass window. The Svalinn’s Mercy I had cast to protect Kiyo was still trapped inside. Thankfully, I hadn’t accidentally dismissed it.

I poured energy into the floating shield. It hadn’t been protected from the liquified glass like I had, so I had to break the hardened mass that clung to it. I couldn’t see how far up I had to go from my angle. It felt like trying to wiggle a toe by remote control, but I slowly managed to build up some speed. Finally, with a last burst, the glass-encrusted shield broke through the top of the frozen waves.

I had my magical pickaxe freed, but I would have to chip away at the glass blindly, and straight at me. I grit my teeth, knowing what was to come. Our Father Below Willing, this scheme wouldn’t take me all the way to Wizard’s Desolation or rip me to shreds. Or both.

“Iron Skin!” The armor slid into place.

Svalinn’s Mercy is an impressively durable spell, but I worried that it would give out as I slammed its point into the glass matrix over and over again, before scraping it downwards to drag away the chunks it had freed. I wanted to look away as the blurry shape flew right at me, but I couldn’t move. Just as well, since I needed to make sure my aim was true.

Ever so slowly, the world before me became less of a blurry mess. One last strike freed my upper body, though my ears rang as the edge of the shield slammed into my faceplate.

I was able to gingerly climb my way out, not daring to drop the Iron Skin. By the time I had climbed out, my shirt was slick with perspiration. I felt the first leadenness of the soul that signaled I was close to Wizard’s Desolation, and I hurried to unsummon all of the energy structures I had built. I had some spells left in me, but I would have to be strategic.

“Kiyo, where in blazes are you?” I asked the empty air. “I know you’re cross with me, but you could have still helped out a little!”

There was no response. I scanned the room, not wasting energy I didn’t have on my Mimic Sight.

I was about to assume that Kiyo had forsaken me when I noticed Lucile’s barrel sticking out of the glass structure, directly behind where the Svalinn’s Mercy had been trapped.

My hand shot to my mouth. “Oh, no.” How long had I been in there? It felt like an eternity. Was Kiyo stuck inside? The area around the rifle was especially thick. Did I see a dark smudge in there, or was that my imagination running wild with a trick of the mind?

I desperately circled the half-shattered glass spire, ignoring the crunching beneath my shoes. “I can’t see a damned thing in there!” Could she even be seen? Kiyo turned into a crystalline form when she vanished; if she had been trapped in that state, she would have been impossible to detect in the kaleidoscopic colored glass.

Some part of my mind that wasn’t seized with panic told me that she would have long since suffocated. There was no guarantee she was in there, anyhow. For all I knew, she had run for help. I needed to track down Maggie and mourn Kiyo later if need be.

I rejected that idea out of hand; I had to know for certain. I had nearly killed her once with the remote bomb, and I wasn’t about to abandon her again. Not while there was a ghost of a chance.

“I thought I heard something back here! Bahadour!”

I was saved by Maggie’s heels clicking on the tile at the library’s foyer. Anticipating the attack, I leapt out of the way, barely avoiding the thin carpeting of glass I’d left behind in my escape.

The former stained-glass window was not so lucky. The red burst of hatred burrowed straight through it, melting it and sending bits of glass and Lucile in all directions. I covered my head to avoid the spray. A long, crystalline piece landed just in my line of sight. Was it my imagination, or did that look like a human finger?

Everything went red again, my heartbeat roaring in my ears.

If I had been in a rational state of mind, I would have demanded that Maggie tell me why she was back. Who knows, she might have even told me. Her hand was on her hip as she said something or other, her mouth curled in a cruel grin. I’m sure it was cutting and boastful.

I wasn’t remotely in the mood to care what she had to say. I launched a Bloody Lance right back, which she just managed to block with a Svalinn’s Mercy floating about her head. The blast destroyed her defensive spell, sending tendrils of energy raking across her face. Her eyes went wide with terror, and I think she realized she had poked the bear one time too many.

“Fireball Barrage!” She threw a flurry of miniature fireballs behind her as she ran out the door. The bookshelves were her target, not me. A sensible strategy, forcing me to choose between pursuit and putting out the growing inferno behind me.

Too bad she wasn’t dealing with me in any sensible state. My Angel was gone. Maggie was drawing in air and Kiyo wasn’t. She never would again. Never make love, never chide me for being randy, never talk my ear off about some video game I didn’t fully understand, never even complain about running. It was all Maggie’s fault, and it was time to balance the scales.

I slipped my hand in my pocket, activating the technology jammer before I took off after her. There would be no escape down the elevator, unless I copied Hiro and pushed her.

No, I decided, catching a glimpse of a panicked Maggie slipping up the stairs to the roof. That would be far too quick.

I’d never been one for torture, but it seemed like a fine time to learn.