“Make way! Mender emergency!” an urgent voice bellows, startling me out of my brief nap.

Drowsiness slows my reactions, but I look up eagerly when I recognize the approaching mana signature. I struggle to my feet, craning my neck to watch as Mender Uttara runs down the hall toward us, puffing from the exertion.

“Mender Uttara! You came.”

“Let’s hope I’m not too late,” he murmurs darkly. He falls to his knees next to Lionel, careful to stay just outside of the time bubble. I’m grateful for his caution; the more people or objects that Melina has to exert control over, the faster her Skill runs dry. Exhaustion is already creeping in from the corners, ready to sink its bony claws into her. The last thing she needs right now is to bear an even greater burden.

Mender Uttara performs a thorough Sounding, and this time I’m able to observe each nuance of the technique with far greater fidelity. Whatever happened to my mana senses when I Classed into [Mage] seems to have catapulted my abilities forward. Thankfully, I retained the boost to my Skills despite merging my Classes together.

Sighing, Mender Uttara rocks back on his heels and stands up. He laces his fingers together, hands behind his back, and turns to the Mender who performed initial triage. “Status report? I have my theories, but I’d like to hear what you’ve tried already.”

The frightened woman’s heartbeat has finally settled back down. She regards Mender Uttara with significantly more deference than she paid me, and gathers herself to deliver a more detailed explanation of why the usual healing Skills aren’t working.

To his credit, Mender Uttara never injects his own opinions, although he occasionally asks clarifying questions during a pause in the flow of words. He jots down the answers in his little notebook, studiously collecting information before he turns back to Lionel.

“Bring me salve and bandages.”

“Sir? He’s not going to make it.”

“We’ll try anyway. That’s what we do,” Mender Uttara replies with quiet dignity.

The other Mender jerks her head up and down. “I suppose that we could stem the bleeding with more mundane means.”

“That’s the spirit,” Mender Uttara says, patting her arm. “Conventional medicine should help us stabilize my apprentice and take some of the pressure off this remarkable young lady. Now there’s a Skill worthy of our hallowed halls!”

“At once, Mender Uttara.” She rushes off in search of the bandages, relief clear in her posture.

Mender Uttara turns his attention to Melina, smiling in warm approval. “I’ve heard so much about your team. You must be one of the Linas. Glad to finally meet you in person. Clever application of that time-dilation Skill.”

“Pleased to meet you as well. Trying my best,” Melina mutters. She’s swaying on her feet, her eyes drooping closed.

“Let me help relieve your burden.” Mender Uttara helps ease her to a sitting position on the floor, leaning against the wall. He sends a pulse of refreshing magic through Melina, adding strength to her weary body, then straightens and sketches a half-bow toward her.

“Thank you for the healing,” Melina replies, dipping her head in response to the bow. “You honor me.”

“Remarkable control. I’d be happy to hire you for future work, once our young friend pulls through. Now, where is that Mender?”

Rakesh clears his throat. “Mender Uttara, thank you for coming. Lionel has spoken highly of you while recounting stories of his brief time here.”

“Ah, I’m happy to help. But you have me at a disadvantage, young man. Which one of Lionel’s friends might you be?” Mender Uttara asks, though there’s a wariness underneath the amiable words.

“I am Rakesh, a [Secretarial Researcher] from the Silaraon City Academy. A pleasure to make your acquaintance. I hope I’m not overstepping my bounds, but would a potion result in the same deleterious effects as healing Skills? I’m given to understand that they work in an altogether different manner. Perhaps that would bypass the issue at hand?”

“It’s . . . possible,” Mender Uttara allows, although his posture shifts at the suggestion. He hunches slightly, looking defensive. “But the cost is prohibitive. Beyond what I can afford, to be perfectly honest.”

“Nothing is too high when compared with Lionel’s life. I’ll pay for it, no matter the price,” I vow.

Mender Uttara holds up his hands. “Commendable, but I’d recommend against pledging your gold. We don’t know if it will actually work.”

“What have we got to lose?” I ask quietly. “Delay too long, and you might as well dig the grave with your own two hands.”

“It’s not that simple. Miracle potions, high-grade mana draughts—they’re all restricted in use here.”

“That makes no sense! Aren’t you [Healers]?” Avelina demands. She’s kept silent up till now, but as her anger burns hot, words spill forth from her mouth. “Sounds to me like you’re just in it for the money. Highest bidder goes home happy, while everyone else suffers and dies!”

If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

Her righteous indignation ignites the air around her, causing everyone to shuffle back a step. She smothers the flames after a moment, looking chagrined, but her point remains.

“The opposite, actually,” Mender Uttara replies patiently. He lets out a long-suffering sigh and regards Avelina with something approaching fondness. “I appreciate your sense of justice, young lady. You would have gotten along well with our Founders. They came up with the rule that requires board oversight and approval of rare resources as a way of ensuring that only the patients who need them most receive emergency care. Otherwise, you’d be right: the wealthiest would simply pay for better care, edging out the poor among us.”

“Peh! Pretty words for a man who just left the patient in his circuit and ran across campus to see his apprentice.”

Another man in Mender uniform stalks down the hallway, flanked by a pair of heavily armed guards wearing the sigils of the Mender’s security force. The two radiate the oppressive power of lifelong fighters who have attained the Second Threshold. If things get ugly, I’m not confident in my ability to take them.

The new arrival is taller than Uttara by a head. His forceful gait speaks of a man accustomed to power, and the glitter of a thick golden chain set with rubies the size of my thumbnail, which peeks out from beneath his neatly-trimmed, graying beard, all but confirms his lofty status.

“Greetings, young man. I am [Chancellor] Talagrand.” He sniffs, taking in Lionel’s sorry state, and heaves a dramatic sigh. “Well. Caring for your friend is admirable.”

“But?” I prompt, crossing my arms.

“Harassing my staff and terrifying fellow patients is utterly inexcusable,” the [Chancellor] follows up. He looks down his nose at me, silent for far longer than is strictly polite. “You are no longer granted access to our hallowed institution. Please comport yourself with dignity and allow my men to escort you off the campus.”

I snort. “You expect me to trust you after refusing my friend medical care?”

“You know why we refused,” Talagrand snaps.

“Yeah, yeah. Might have killed him faster. I get it. Calling for security as soon as I show up didn’t help matters, though,” I reply, keeping my voice mild.

Mender Uttara subtly shifts his position, sideling up next to me. He places a restraining hand on my shoulder. “Nuri, I advise that you let us take it from here.”

“Swear that you’ll help him.”

“Naturally!” Mender Uttara replies, drawing back with a hand to his chest. He looks horribly affonted. “I take my vows as a Mender seriously. I will do my best to restore Lionel to good health. Regardless of how you feel about my coworkers, I’d like to believe that I’ve earned a measure of trust.”

With some effort, I reign in the temptation to give in to the demand for violence. It’s been a low-level buzz in the back of my head since I regained my full metaphysical system. The easy flow of mana seems to translate to greater resonance with every concept at my disposal. Before today, I would have said that’s an unequivocally good thing, but I’d never really grappled with the stronger influence of the violence that’s lurked in my soul since our encounter in the Old Keep.

“I’m just trying to help ,” I say stiffly.

“And you have. Leave it there.”

I regard Mender Uttara cooly. “If you’re really taking care of him, then I’ll go quietly. If not, then we’ll have a problem.”

“Young man, I don’t believe you grasp the trouble you’re already in,” Talagrand says. “For the sake of my distinguished colleague, Mender Uttara, I’ll overlook your first infraction. Don’t push your luck.”

I almost roll my eyes before I catch myself. No need to provoke them further. But still. Threats from a First Threshold administrator don’t phase me after meeting [Viceroy] Tapirs, or [General] Tychicus. I’m too tired to make trouble, anyway. Facing down the two brutes with Talagrand isn’t an option. I’d survive, but the fallout might hurt Lionel.

The realization brings me up short. Just a few short months ago, I would have quailed in fear if I’d had to fight [Spear Commander] Nicanor. He could have beaten me without breaking a sweat. Yet with my upgraded Class, the weight of my full-force [Arcane Domain], my growing understanding of runes, and the esoteric power of higher-order concepts, I’m probably a match for him as long as I can keep my distance.

I hold Talagrand’s gaze, letting my Domain seep out until he grows uncomfortable and looks away. Petty of me, but I’m annoyed. At last, I crack a smile. “As long as Lio’s all right. I expect a good report when my friends return.”

“And we expect payment for service rendered. While the esteemed Mender Uttara is technically correct that emergencies supercede all other considerations, we are still a business, not a charity. I presume that this won’t be a problem, since you’ve already promised to pay for anything that will help your friend?”

Talagrand smiles, revealing even teeth. There’s something unsettling about the practiced ease of his expression—and the way his eyes are dead, not reflecting a single hint of warmth or kindness.

“I’ll pay,” I insist. Stubbornness drives me as much as a sense of honor; I won’t give him the satisfaction of seeing me squirm.

“Talk with Ozana,” Melina interrupts. She lifts her weary head, meeting my gaze, and for a moment her lively spirit shines through. “I’m sure she’ll help you work out a solution.”

“Good advice. I’ll go directly.”

[Chancellor] Talagrand’s smile widens. “Please do. My associates here will ensure that you reach your destination safely.”

Right on cue, the armored [Guards] advance toward me. I let my Domain leak out again, eliciting grunts and forcing them to work harder, like leaning into a strong wind. Cautious now that they’re bearing up under the weight of my Domain, they approach to either side of me and glare menacingly. Their hands tighten on the hilts of their weapons.

Based on the intensity of the glow in my mana sight, the weapons are heavily enchanted and far superior to the standard version wielded by the other [Guards]. I’d rather not experience first hand just how shocking the dense inscriptions are; even with all my new Skills and my new Class upgrade, I’m not immune to a lightning strike.

I march down the hallway under my own power, holding on to a shred of my dignity. With one last glance over my shoulder, I breathe out a prayer that my best friend will be all right. He’s in good hands, I tell myself, choosing to trust Mender Uttara’s skill and intentions. He’s been the most truthful and friendly of the Menders from the beginning.

“Thank you for the honor guard,” I say lightly as the two fearsome fighters escort me off the premises, but they don’t laugh at my joke.

The [Guards] grunt and shuffle backward, eyeing me with suspicion the entire way. I can’t blame them. [Mages] are infamous for fighting dirty. Who wants to trust a living weapon who can kill from a great distance? A moment later, they disappear inside, no doubt returning to their posts by the side of the imperious [Chancellor].

I stride off, heading toward the Orpheus House with my head held high. My brief time as a [Mage] is over for the day. Now it’s time for me to help my friend by earning money the only way I know how: by making something marvelous out of glass.

Despite Lionel’s grave condition, a flutter of excitement makes my heart beat faster. It’s been far too long since I’ve been in the studio. A homecoming is on the horizon.