Veltyen double-checked the straps on Magewhisper’s saddle, making sure everything was snug and comfortable. On the field, fourteen other riders made similar preparations, their partners all gleaming silver mage mounts from extremely distinguished bloodlines; he thought at least three of them were Magewhisper’s first cousins, and another eight were also from Silver Meadows. The ancient establishment had still not lost its streak at having produced every horse that had ever won the Chase competition at the Magic Games, and Veltyen was hoping he and Magewhisper could add another win to that chain.

The Chase competition was a twenty-league obstacle race that would leave any regular horse dead of exhaustion or crippled with broken legs. With jumps higher than a mounted rider could see over, areas of treacherous ground and sucking mud, and a distance that would be a challenge to cover in one day even on flat ground, it was designed to push even mage-bred horses to their limits, needing intelligent strategy to conserve their endurance on top of peerless athleticism.

Magic that would interfere with other riders and horses was strictly forbidden, so riding ability was more important than a rider’s magic abilities, but Veltyen had several tricks up his sleeve to help Magewhisper get through the course more easily, and he was certain the other riders had their own tactics as well.

The thought occurred to him that with a truly endless magic supply, it probably was possible to brute force a win with the horse’s abilities alone. He kept that thought to himself with a small smile, imagining Sery and her pony-sized, first-generation Mindseye leaving all of these world-class mage mounts in the dust.

Beside him, Sery held a bucket, giving Magewhisper a last sip of water after their warm-up run. She had been assigned their assistant for the event so that she could quickly get to the stallion after the race, when his enna would be completely depleted from the gruelling run ahead. A seasoned veteran, the stallion only took small sips to avoid bloating himself.

Everything was in order. Veltyen swung himself into the saddle and grasped Sery’s hand. “You know your way to the stands?” he asked. The race course was a rough circuit that ended about a hundred paces away, but there was a small thicket of trees separating the starting area from the spectator stands that lined the straightaway for the final sprint finish. Huge mana crystal screens would broadcast the parts of the race that could not be seen directly, courtesy of a skilled dimensional mage who would scry and transmit the action.

Sery nodded.

“See you at the finish line.”

Sery’s eyes twinkled as she said, “Hurry, please.”

Her gentle humour never failed to make him smile. “I’ll do my best.”

With a last squeeze of his hand, Sery walked off towards the small footpath through the thicket.

Veltyen settled his shoulders and cleared his mind. It still bothered him that he could not sense Sery’s presence with the walls of her enna closed, but he was going to need all of his focus on the race if they wanted any chance of winning.

“Let’s bring back some gold, buddy,” he said to Magewhisper.

The stallion tossed his head confidently before settling down, not wasting any energy on pre-race nervousness.

The overhead announcement came to signal the competitors to gather, and Magewhisper joined the small parade lining up to be announced to the spectators before the official race start.

***

Sery made her way to the spectator stands, hurrying to get to her seat as the announcer introduced the horses and riders competing one by one. The path through the trees was small but well worn by all the recent foot traffic as the Games’ officials set up the massive racecourse, and the sound of the cheering crowd in front of her told her she was heading in the right direction.

Her senses blunted by her closed enna, she only belatedly noticed a presence near her in the trees after feeling a sharp prick on her arm.

She looked down to see a small dart hanging from her sleeve. Almost immediately, a wave of heavy weakness threatened to sink her into unconsciousness. She wavered, her befuddled mind unable to decide between running back towards Veltyen and going forward to where the rest of the guild was waiting. She had only taken a few faltering steps before her vision dimmed and she slumped to the ground, the heaviness dragging her into a drugged sleep.

***

In front of the starting line, the illusion of ten glowing blue orbs was summoned. One by one, the illusions disappeared, accompanied by the sound of a bell, counting down to the start of the race. Veltyen forcibly relaxed his body, clearing his mind of everything except Magewhisper under him and the course ahead.

Three.

Two.

One.

Magewhisper accelerated smoothly into a gallop and they were off, the thunder of hoofbeats competing with the roar of the crowd for supremacy in the deafening soundscape as they settled into position just in front of the middle of the pack, Magewhisper choosing to use other horses as a partial windbreak rather than vie for an early lead, saving his energy for the obstacles to come.

They arrived at the first challenge, a thicket of carefully groomed trees spaced just far enough apart that a nimble horse could weave its way through. Veltyen jumped out of the saddle and ran after the stallion, allowing Magewhisper an easier time without the extra width of his legs to hinder him. The downside of this strategy was that he had to run fast enough to keep up with a horse’s rapid trot, and only about half of the riders did the same, the rest adopting various trick riding positions to lessen their hindrance to their mounts. By the time Veltyen hauled himself back into the saddle, he was thoroughly out of breath and sweating, but all he had to do was hang on as Magewhisper accelerated back to a gallop and carried them to the next section, a series of irregularly spaced water obstacles that could be jumped and waded through or avoided at the cost of extra distance. Veltyen let Magewhisper make his own judgement on the most efficient way to traverse the hurdles and pools of water, only offering his input when his higher vantage point gave him some insight into the obstacles ahead.

The water obstacles culminated in a huge field of sucking mud with no way of avoiding plunging through, the area designed to exhaust even the fittest competitors. Veltyen’s particular magic was invaluable here; by standing in one stirrup and hanging off Magewhisper’s side, his other foot trailing slightly into the mud, he was able to solidify the ground in front of the stallion. In contrast to some of the other horses, who were plunging up to their hindquarters in mud, Magewhisper stayed nearly pristine, with only a small coating of mud up to his fetlocks. More importantly, his gallop barely slowed, and they were comfortably in the lead by the time they returned to solid ground and approached the next set of obstacles. These were a series of huge walls, long enough that going around was not an option, but high enough that neither he nor Magewhisper could see the ground on the other side until they had already jumped. Even if a normal horse had the strength to jump them, it would be suicidal to attempt opaque barriers like this without the intelligence and reflexes of a mage-bred mount to judge his own footing on the landing.

Veltyen had little to contribute to this section; all he could do is lessen the weight from his body and equipment and stay as perfectly balanced as possible so that he would not be a handicap to Magewhisper as the stallion burned bursts of magic to fuel the enormous jumps the walls required. There were one or two landings where he scrambled to stay on his feet, and he slowed to a more measured gallop, losing ground to a few horse-rider pairs who appeared to be using kinetic magic to boost their jumping abilities, a feat that required extreme magic control, years of practice, and perfect communication and trust between mage and horse. The treacherous walls took two pairs out of the competition as they fell heavily after a jump; Veltyen only briefly caught a glimpse of event healers rushing onto the field before they flashed past and he had to focus on the next obstacle.

Magewhisper was in fourth place as they came upon huge artificial hills made of unstable piles of shale, each step triggering small avalanches as they scrambled up and down the slopes. Unlike with the mud, it was very difficult for Veltyen’s magic to stabilize their footing, it reading to his magical senses as countless separate pieces of material rather than a cohesive whole. The best he could do was immobilize the tiny bit of terrain directly under each of Magewhisper’s feet as the stallion touched down, conserving his enna stores but exponentially increasing the complexity of the magic as he had to track four spells that were constantly moving in space at the same time. Even that was exhausting, and by the time Magewhisper skidded down the final hill, Veltyen was swaying in the saddle, the early signs of overdrawing his enna manifesting in the form of throbbing behind his eyes and heaviness in his limbs. They had managed to overtake two horse-rider pairs, and were in second place when they arrived at the next obstacle, a truly enormous hedge maze with walls three times his height.

The rider in the lead launched herself into the air in a magic-assisted jump, high enough to get an overview of the layout of the maze, before hauling herself back into the saddle and taking off. This was a standard tactic, with the mage repeating a jump every time they had reached the end of the section of maze they had managed to memorize during the brief glimpse at the top of each jump.

Magewhisper came to a stop at the maze entrance, catching his breath while Veltyen placed his hand against the hedge and sent his magic questing through the structure.

Part of materials magic was the innate ability to sense the physical properties of materials as a sort of starting point to preparing to alter them. It was a passive ability that used basically no magic, which was very helpful in his depleted state, but it would have been impossible to translate what his magic was telling him into a complex, three-dimensional structure like a maze if he had not been spending the last few months practicing exactly that.

Four riders passed as Veltyen formed a mental map of the maze, but he ignored them, focusing on making sure he knew the correct path through. When he opened his eyes, Magewhisper took off at a gallop, following Veltyen’s leg cues so they could navigate without tipping off the other competitors of the correct route.

It was difficult to say who was in the lead within the maze, the hedges busy with called directions, hoofbeats, and jumping mages, but he and Magewhisper emerged from the other side without seeing anyone ahead of them.

The final section of the race made up a full third of the course distance, an uncomplicated stretch of flat ground designed to exhaust every drop of magic the horses had left in a prolonged mage-gallop.

Simple physics dictated that the most efficient way to the finish line would be to find the maximum pace they could maintain and hold it. Magewhisper judged his remaining enna stores and sped up, not to the blinding speed he could reach when Sery was nearby but much faster than a regular horse’s sprint. Veltyen concentrated on adding as little wind resistance as possible, keeping his head tucked and not bothering to look either ahead or behind; Magewhisper knew the route as well as he did, and even if one of the other competitors began to catch them, speeding up would only result in prematurely exhausting the stallion’s reserves.

Though he was not looking, Veltyen could not help but hear the approach of galloping hoofbeats from behind, indicating their lead was about to be challenged.

When it came to magic and its maximal use, there was always some flexibility, and he found himself unwilling to give up the victory. Gritting his teeth, Veltyen activated his depleted magic to decrease the weight on Magewhisper. He was operating in the hazy danger area of below 20% enna stores but above the 10% where loss of consciousness occurred; it was certainly not good for his long-term health to stay in that range for long, but all combat mages trained to tolerate the side effects and gauge their enna stores down to the last particle, knowing that they could be placed in situations where a single extra spell could mean the difference between life and death.

Feeling his headache worsen and his arms start to tremble, Veltyen was reminded what a blessing it was to have Sery in the guild. The last time he had experienced these symptoms was maybe half a year before she had tumbled into his life, and he had gotten used to using magic with almost no concern for its cost. Even now, he knew he was willing to push himself closer to the limits of safety because he knew she would be waiting at the finish line, ready to undo the damage caused by his reckless actions.

In response to the decreased weight to carry, Magewhisper sped up, the wind whipping past becoming a tangible pressure on his skin and the ground below becoming a continuous blur. The roar of the crowd gradually blended into the soundscape of thundering hoofbeats as they approached the spectator stands.

An increase in the rhythm of the hoofbeats chasing them told him that their competitors were putting on one final burst of speed in sight of the finish line. Veltyen tried not to react, but Magewhisper either felt some extra tension in his body or heard the challenger himself because he put on a reckless burst of speed that Veltyen knew would also drop the stallion’s enna reserves past the point of safety. He knew that once the adrenaline wore off, both of them would start really feeling the effects, but as they surged across the finish line in first place, he could not bring himself to regret their actions.

As Magewhisper slowed gradually to a walk, Veltyen pumped his fist in the air in victory. “We did it, buddy!”

The stallion reared up, posing on his hind legs while the crowd roared its approval. He pranced all the way over to the stables with high steps and a beautifully arched neck. As soon as they were out of sight of the spectators, his head dropped and his steps became plodding.

Veltyen chuckled, assuming the stallion was experiencing the same pounding headache that he was. “We’re a sorry pair right now, aren’t we?” Trust Magewhisper’s vanity to put on that kind of display when he was probably a breath away from falling over. “We’d better find Sery so she can put us right.” He could just imagine her worried, reproachful look when she sensed exactly how low both of them had gone.

Veltyen frowned as he scanned the small stables attached to the steeplechase course and did not see Sery anywhere. Not only was she officially assigned as his assistant for the event, she knew that they were expected to have used large amounts of magic. There was no way her conscientious nature would let her be late to meet them unless something had gone wrong.

Maybe she had gotten stuck in the crowd on her way over? Veltyen removed Magewhisper’s saddle and gave him a quick brush, wishing very much that he could use her mana particle emission to track her down like he usually did.

Even when he was finished, she had not shown up. “I think we’re going to have to go to the medal presentation without a boost from Sery,” he said to Magewhisper. “Do you think you can manage?”

The stallion nodded, following his lead to the podium, a massive affair designed for horses and their riders. As soon as they were back in the public eye, his head came back up, for all the world looking like he could run the course again and still win.

Veltyen shook hands with the other riders and tried to pay attention to the medal ceremony, but a growing sense of dread was growing in the pit of his stomach with each passing minute. He spotted the Eterna guild section in the stands, but Sery’s distinctive silver hair was nowhere to be seen.

There had to be a good explanation for her absence, he told himself. Maybe she had fallen ill and had been sent back to camp to rest.

After what felt like an eternity, he was finally free to find his other guildmates and ask about Sery’s whereabouts. He quickly led the way with Magewhisper out of the restricted area of the event towards the road back to the main campgrounds.

Foria was waiting by the exit, to his relief. Before he could open his mouth to ask his question, she said, “Sery’s not with you?”

His fists clenched. “I haven’t seen her since before the race started. Has anyone else?”

Foria’s expression became as worried as his. “No. I need to scry for her.”

Hearing the urgency in her voice, Magewhisper used his bulk to shoulder his way through the crowd to the side of the road where they would not be interrupted, Foria and Veltyen following in his wake. As soon as she was safe from being jostled, Foria’s glasses flashed opaque as she activated the mage crystal and initiated a call.

“She’s not answering her communication crystal,” Foria said, her lips compressing to a tight, worried line. “I’ll scry for her location.”

Breath held, Veltyen waited for Foria to work her magic. When one minute stretched into two without an answer, he could not help but ask, “What’s taking so long?” With her level of skill, the dimensional mage could locate someone she was familiar with in a matter of seconds.

“I’m getting no answer to my query. I’m going to try her communication crystal and her GA card,” was Foria’s brief reply, all of her considerable intellect directed towards finding Sery or any clue to where she had gone.

“Found both, about a quarter-league in that direction,” she announced, pointing away from the main road.

Devlin, Ariela, and Asher joined them. “What’s going on? Where’s Sery?” Ariela asked.

“She’s missing,” Foria said curtly. “I need Asher with me to investigate in case we need a re-enactment spell.”

“What?” Asher said, caught off guard.

The guildmasters’ expressions tightened. “Do what you have to do,” said Devlin. “We’ll gather the others and meet at camp.”

They found both Sery’s communication crystal and guild card discarded on the ground in a secluded field. “Asher, we need to know what happened here,” Foria all but commanded, her usual brisk efficiency becoming something colder and more demanding in the face of a crisis.

Veltyen could not appreciate Asher’s relative speed as he set up his spell field and activated the complex time magic that would allow them to view recent events in the area. The only thing that was stopping him from racing off after Sery was the lack of destination to target.

He gritted his teeth as translucent figures appeared in the field, ghostly representations of the people here before them. Two men armed like mercenaries were searching an unconscious Sery’s body, eventually throwing out the magical devices that might help locate her. They then placed her in a clear-walled box that he assumed was mage crystal before placing it among more mundane crates and barrels in a wagon and slinging a tarp over it all, disguising it as a mundane supply wagon pulled by a nondescript brown horse. They got into the driver’s seat and set off towards the west; if they continued in the same direction, they would eventually reach the border between Roswan and Oslethia.

“They have the money for a mage-crystal device that can block scrying and they’re probably from Oslethia,” Foria summarized. “They knew exactly what they were doing. We’re looking for a rich, high-ranking mage guild.”

“But how could they possibly expect to get away with something like this?” Asher asked in disbelief. “They couldn’t exactly explain it away as her suddenly wanting to switch guilds if she shows up on their membership registration.”

“Maybe they’re not planning on registering her,” Foria said grimly. “After all, she doesn’t need to accept jobs directly, does she?”

Veltyen was mounted on Magewhisper and about to take off before Foria got in the way and grabbed the stallion around the neck. “Both of you, stop!” she admonished. “You’ve both overdrawn your ennas; you’ll just pass out if you go haring off today. Sery needs us to think.”

Rationally, he knew she was right, but the idea of tamely going back to camp and taking a rest was intolerable to him.

Like a magical solution to all his problems, approaching hoofbeats announced the arrival of Mindseye. Not only was she fresh and running full of magic, someone had saddled up Sery’s mage mount and equipped her with enough supplies for a week or more of off-road travel, including the levitating platform Magewhisper usually pulled on longer missions.

His mage crystal sword was looped around his saddle horn, and he grabbed it, drawing enough magic from its Source storage to ease his symptoms and no more, aware that he needed to return to the habit of saving every mana particle he could hoard in his enna if he wanted to get Sery back.

Mindseye nudged his leg and stood beside Magewhisper, clearly demanding that she get on his back. Veltyen swung out of one saddle and into the other. The pony was far better suited to Sery’s height than his, but easily strong enough to bear his extra weight.

“Sorry, Mage, I think you’re going to need to sit this one out,” he said to Magewhisper. Unlike him, the stallion had no emergency store of magic to draw on to aid his natural recovery.

Magewhisper gave a resigned snort and nudged him forward, urging him to get going.

“I don’t think I’m going to be able to stop you and Mindseye,” said Foria, “but call me every day and let us know as soon as you know where she is so we can send reinforcements. Clear?”

“If I can,” was all Veltyen would commit to. If he had to act alone to ensure Sery’s safety, he would.

Foria sighed but got out of the way as Mindseye took off, settling into a ground-eating gallop that she could sustain for the rest of the day.