Glinting in the candlelight, the dagger moved slowly towards Koreen’s neck. Felitïa ran, reaching out. This time, she’d make it. This time, she’d grab it before it broke flesh.

This time, like every other time, Koreen’s blood sprayed out, covering Malef, but missing Felitïa. Even though she’d moved towards it, she was still where she’d started.

Where she’d been when it had actually happened.

She was dreaming, seeing the same moment play out over and over again. She’d tried to stop it, but although she was getting better at this lucid dreaming thing, she had only been able to stop it briefly. After a couple times, she decided to let it play out. She deserved it after all. She was responsible for releasing Koreen in fake Lidda’s mind. She was responsible for the death.

The moment began again, the dagger glinting in the candlelight. Felitïa ran, and reached for it. But this time, she collided with someone else.

There was a crash as the dining room table broke with the impact, and Felitïa and the person she’d tackled fell into some bushes, or grass, or plants of some kind—whatever they fell into was green, and this was a dream so there was little detail beyond fuzzy colour.

“Felitïa? What are you doing?”

Felitïa grabbed at the person’s hands, trying to yank the dagger from them, but wait… This person didn’t have a dagger. This wasn’t Koreen. Who was it?

The person tried to push her away, but their hands just melded into Felitïa’s arms. Whoever it was had a face that was...blank. There didn’t even seem to be any skin there. There were no features at all.

Felitïa tried to pull away, crawling backwards through the plants, but she simply dragged the person with her.

“Felitïa, stop!”

Felitïa stopped crawling and leaned forward, staring into the person’s featureless face. “Who are you?”

“Felitïa, I… I… I…” The blank face moved closer to her, other parts of their body melding with Felitïa’s.

There was so much fear flowing from the individual, so Felitïa got rid of it. There was no need to be afraid. Deeper in this person was so much love for her, so she brought that out. That was nicer. She put her arms around the person and held them close. There was only a small amount of the person not yet melded with her. They would be one soon.

Had this person answered who they were?

“I…”

Felitïa looked closer at the last speck of the...head?

No, not a head. There had never even been a body. There had never been any features because this was a presence in the Room, and they had no physical features, just a sense to them.

Zandrue.

Oh gods.

She yanked at the presence, and yanked it out of herself, then jumped out of Zandrue’s head and back into her own.

She opened her eyes and sat up. “Zandrue?”

Zandrue was curled in a ball on the ground, sobbing.

Felitïa crawled over to her, and reached out a hand. “Zandrue, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean…”

At Felitïa’s touch, Zandrue howled and curled up tighter.

Felitïa backed away. What had she done? Oh gods, what the fuck had she done? “Zandrue, please, I… Oh gods, I’m sorry.”

Zandrue whimpered and began to rock herself gently.

Felitïa wiped away the tears falling down her face. “Please speak to me. Zandrue?”

Every time she spoke, the fear pouring from Zandrue intensified, so she decided not to say anything more. Not for a while, at least. Zandrue just needed time.

She sat there watching Zandrue, frequently wiping her own tears away. In the dream, she had dismissed Zandrue’s fears. Could she do that again? She’d leave out the bit where she had made Zandrue love her, and only dismiss the fear this time. Then Zandrue could recover more easily on her own.

Dear gods, what was she thinking? Even if it worked, it would only be temporary, and Zandrue would have even more reason to fear her later. It would also be a terrible invasion of Zandrue’s privacy, and she had already done that once. Accidentally perhaps, but she’d still done it.

There was one thing she could do, though, that wouldn’t be too terrible. Felitïa tilted her head and put Zandrue to sleep.

Then she backed farther away, and huddled in a corner. She couldn’t go to sleep herself. Sleep was too dangerous. She had to stay awake now until Mikranasta could put another shield around her. It would probably have to be a lot stronger this time.

Dear gods, what an idiot she’d been. First Koreen. Now Zandrue. Not to mention nearly dying to the dragon. She never should have come here. She wasn’t ready for it. Mikranasta had been right. Worse, Mikranasta had probably allowed her to get away specifically so she’d learn for herself just how not ready she was.

Zandrue’s fear ebbed as she slept, but it didn’t go away completely. At the very least, she seemed to be sleeping somewhat contentedly. Felitïa watched her for the rest of the night. Occasionally, she found herself starting to drift off, so she found a piece of broken masonry, leaned it against the wall, then pressed herself against it so that it was jabbing her back. It made things uncomfortable enough that she was able to stay awake.

Eventually, the first light of dawn crept through the cracks in the walls and the broken windows of the guardhouse. Felitïa rubbed her eyes and continued to watch Zandrue.

Finally, Zandrue stirred, opened her eyes, and sat up. As soon as she saw Felitïa, fear flowed from her again.

Felitïa bit her lower lip and did her best not to cry. “Hi.” It came out as little more than a croak.

Zandrue rubbed the back of her neck. “Hi.” The fear intensified.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” She couldn’t hold it back any longer, and the tears began to flow. It was all she could do not to wail.

“It’s all right,” Zandrue said.

“No, it’s not. What I did to you… I’m not even sure what I did to you, but it was inexcusable. I didn’t mean it. It was an accident. You have to believe me.”

“I do believe you.”

Felitïa wiped her eyes and looked at Zandrue, who quickly blurred as more tears arrived. “But you’re so scared of me.”

Zandrue jumped to her feet. “Of course I’m scared of you. I’ve been scared of you for quite a long time now, and right now, I’m fucking terrified. All I did last night was come in, say your name, and you fucking attacked my head!”

“I didn’t mean to.”

“I know you didn’t, but you can’t help yourself. You…” She turned around and kicked the wall. “This is partially my own fault. I pushed you to bring me out here. It was too soon. I should have come with Jorvan.” She leaned against the wall and slid down it back into a seated position.

They sat in silence for a while, apart from Felitïa’s sobbing. Eventually, Felitïa looked up, and wiped her tears. “What did I do to you?”

Zandrue’s fear intensified again.

Felitïa looked back down. “I’m sorry. You don’t have to answer that.”

“No, I want to answer it. I want you to know, so you never fucking do it again.”

Felitïa could barely manage more than a whimpered, “I promise.”

“You took me over again, but it was different. Before, I could still think. I was still aware of what you were doing and what my body was doing. This time… It started a bit like those times when we couldn’t tell ourselves apart, except it didn’t stay like that. I couldn’t remember who I was. I was fading away. It was like you were just erasing me from existence. I’ve never been so terrified in my life, and then… And then you took even that away from me. You wouldn’t even let me be afraid.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, I know.”

They sat in silence for a while again. During that time, Zandrue’s fear ebbed a little. It didn’t go away entirely, but it seemed Zandrue had it more under control. There was anger mixed in it now, too.

“We’d better go,” Zandrue said eventually. “I told Borisin we’d get him out last night. Can we use the Pearl to take him? I suppose we’ll have to do a couple trips.”

Felitïa picked up the Staff, then stood up. “I don’t know.” She reached into the eye socket with the Pearl, pinched it, and tried to pull it out. A painful jolt ran through her fingers and up her arm, and she let go.

Don’t, the Staff said.

“I don’t think I can take it out,” Felitïa said.

“Surely it will still work in the Staff,” Zandrue said. “It would be a pretty lousy Staff if it made the Pearl lose its other powers.”

Felitïa nodded. “You’re probably right. Let’s go find out.” She held out a hand to Zandrue.

Zandrue stared at her hand a moment, then shook her head. Felitïa stepped away, and Zandrue stood.

Felitïa fought back tears again. “I hate seeing you so frightened of me.”

“Good. That’s the only thing that lets me trust you to never do it again. But the physical contact...the hugs and stuff...those are going to have to wait awhile.”

Felitïa nodded meekly and lowered her head.

Zandrue turned around and started walking away. “Come on. You may need to hide us when we get closer to the stables.”

“Coming.” Felitïa followed her, but kept a short distance between them—not enough to make the invisibility spell difficult, but enough to give Zandrue space. Zandrue deserved that. All things considered, Felitïa was amazed Zandrue didn’t consider her a monster. She certainly considered herself a monster.

The Will-Breaker.

She had started to come to terms with that title, but now, she was starting to realise it was even worse than she had first imagined.

She was a monster.

Getting to the stables wasn’t very difficult. Felitïa had to hide them from a couple patrols, but they were never close enough, nor were there enough of them, to cause any issues with the spell or any accidental falling into people’s heads.

“I wonder if it’s public knowledge Lidda Plavin’s dead,” Zandrue said as they reached the stables, “or if they’ve kept that knowledge hidden.”

“What difference does it make?” Felitïa asked.

“I’ve got an idea.” Zandrue turned and looked towards the Palace. “If people knew, I’d expect more chaos right now, so I’m going to take a chance. Let people see us when we go inside.”

“Are you sure?”

Zandrue shrugged. “No, but we have to take a few risks every now and then. If I’m wrong, we’ll just have to run and you hide us again.”

Felitïa snorted and wiped her nose. She dropped the spell. “Done.”

Zandrue smiled, turned around, and strode brazenly into the stables. Felitïa followed her.

After walking a short distance through the large, but rather empty stables, a young stablehand approached them, and curtsied. “Can I help you?”

Zandrue stopped and faced the stablehand. “Where’s the one who was here yesterday?”

“I’m sorry, my Lady, there are several of us here. I’m not sure who you’re referring to.”

“A young lad. He attended me yesterday.”

“Can you describe him?”

“He was...young. Male. You don’t really expect me to remember everything about him, do you?”

“Well...I…”

Zandrue sighed loudly. “Fine, just show me to Lord General Fonivan’s horse, Borisin, please.”

“Oh! Are you her Majesty’s handmaid who came yesterday?”

Zandrue gave another exaggerated sigh. “Obviously. Hurry up, then!”

The stablehand curtsied again. “This way.”

As they walked through the stables, Felitïa approached Zandrue and whispered, “Don’t you already know where Borisin is?”

“Yes, but somebody was going to approach us, anyway, so I might as well play the part.”

When they reached Borisin, Zandrue turned to the stablehand. “Thank you. Now, off with you.”

The stablehand curtsied again and hurried off.

Felitïa approached Borisin, whose head was hanging over the stall door. Hi.

Borisin stared at her with narrowed eyes.

Can you hear me?

Borisin snorted.

I assume you can hear me. I just wanted to say hi.

You used to be too painful to talk to. That appears to have changed, though.

Yes, the walls that blocked me are gone, though I’m not sure why they blocked you. They weren’t supposed to keep other people out, just keep me in.

Borisin shook his head and mane. Don’t ask me. I just know what I felt the time I tried to make contact.

Zandrue waved a hand in front of Felitïa’s face. “Are you talking to him?”

Felitïa smiled and nodded.

“Great, she’s talking to the fucking horse. At least Rudiger is considerate enough to do his half of the conversation out loud.”

“Sorry.”

Zandrue rolled her eyes. “Yeah, whatever, but hurry it up, okay?”

I supposed we need to get going, Felitïa said to Borisin. Though I’d really like a chance to talk at some point.

Borisin snorted and tapped one of his hooves. Sure, why not? Not sure what I can tell you though.

You’re a telepath. Apart from one of the Volgs, you’re the only other telepath I know of, and you seem to know what you’re doing. I, on the other hand…

I wouldn’t say I know what I’m doing. I just do it.

And I mess it up continually. Maybe you can give me some pointers.

I can try, but that can wait. How are we getting out of here?

Felitïa tapped the Staff, and spoke aloud. “When it’s not in the Staff, the Pearl can only take two people at a time. I have no idea how the Staff will affect that, or how being a horse will affect it. We might have to do a couple trips.”

Zandrue nudged in close and put her hand on Borisin’s neck. “Let’s do this quick. The stable staff will probably come check on us soon.”

Felitïa held the Staff in one hand and touched the other side of Borisin’s neck with the other. “Out of the Staff, when travelling with two, one person holds the Pearl, and the other controls the destination. I have no idea how it might work with three, if it’s even possible with three. I’ve got the Staff. Zandrue, care to do the honours?”

“Right.”

Felitïa waited several seconds, then peered around Borisin’s head at Zandrue, who had her eyes scrunched closed. “Zandrue?”

Zandrue opened her eyes. “It’s not working. Looks like we can’t take three.”

“That might be the case, but there’s one other thing we should try first.” Felitïa walked around Borisin to stand right beside Zandrue. “I know you don’t want to touch me right now, but we might all need to be in physical contact with each other.” She touched Borisin’s neck with her free hand, and then extended the hand with the Staff towards Zandrue. “Even if we do it in several trips, you’re going to have to touch me for at least one of them.”

Zandrue sighed, but wrapped her fingers around Felitïa’s wrist.

Felitïa smiled at her. “Now, give it a go.”

Zandrue closed her eyes again.

In the Room, there was a brief flash of colours, and then the stables vanished to be replaced by the Council Chamber in the Hall of Knowledge. They were standing between the chairs for the Council members and the other seats. Several of the chairs were occupied.

“Well, I wasn’t expecting that,” Ezmelda said. “I hope that horse is house-trained.”

House-trained? Just for that, I ought to take a dump right here. That woman’s lucky I don’t need to go.

Felitïa snickered.

“Sorry,” Zandrue said. “I should have picked a better location.” She nudged Felitïa, and said quietly, “What are you laughing at?”

“I think I’m starting to understand what Rudiger has to deal with.”

Deal with? I’ll have you know, Rudiger is overjoyed by everything I have to say to him. He knows good company when he has it.

I don’t doubt it, Felitïa said, holding back laughter.

* * * * *

The new shield was an unbelievably complex weave of mentalism magic. It criss-crossed the Room with a pale green glow, though Felitïa changed the colour every now and then. Mikranasta allowed it because...well, it didn’t really change anything, and the colour really wasn’t anything other than Felitïa’s interpretation anyway.

She kept probing it, trying to understand it and find weak spots—and she kept getting a jolt in her head in response. It wasn’t something she was doing on purpose. Her subconscious mind just kept reaching out to it, and it took an incredible effort to stop herself. She had found a couple of weak spots, at least. Of course, Mikranasta had promptly fixed them, but it was nice to know she was capable of finding them.

Mikranasta had been surprisingly calm with her.

No, not surprisingly. She’d had plenty of time to control any anger she might have felt at Felitïa’s departure. Plus, Felitïa was still convinced Mikranasta had secretly allowed her to get away.

To teach her a lesson.

Mikranasta circled around the library table, her eyes on Felitïa the whole time. It would seem the first thing we need to work on is keeping your defences up while you sleep.

I agree, Felitïa said. I don’t want to do anything like what I did to Zandrue ever again.

You say you almost erased her mind?

Felitïa groaned and fought back the urge to burst into tears again. I think so.

Mikranasta paused in her circling. This is grave news. The idea that your unconscious mind is capable of such… She rubbed her forehead.

Thank you for not leaving.

Mikranasta walked over to Felitïa and looked her in the eyes. I wanted to. I nearly did. But you are in need of my help more than ever. The alternative is unthinkable. The damage you could cause…

I know. I’m sorry for leaving.

Mikranasta continued to look her in the eyes. Are you? Perhaps you are now, but I don’t know how much I can trust you not to make similar mistakes again. You are reckless. It is a wonder you are still alive.

I know. The dragon very nearly killed me. I promise I will stay under your shield for as long as you deem it necessary. I won’t ever try to escape it again.

Mikranasta sighed, and turned away.

I mean it.

I know you do. She started circling the table again. But we need to work fast. We may even need to take risks I would never condone under normal circumstances. But I cannot maintain this shield indefinitely. I must sleep sometimes. And Hedromornasta… She stopped her circling, and lowered her head, her wings drooping. This is beyond him. Oh, he will try. He’ll even maintain it for a short time, but not long enough. He is too young. He’s still several years from his elispt. It will destroy his pride. Don’t get me wrong. His pride needs a good hit, but…

Why don’t you maintain the shield while I sleep? He can do it while I’m awake. I promise I won’t attempt to break it, so it won’t be as difficult for him.

Mikranasta gave her a thin smile. And when do I teach you, in that case? We will need to spend several hours a day together. I will not be able to get enough sleep, and eventually even I will be too weak to maintain the shield. No, we must take unfortunate shortcuts. Besides, from what you’ve told me, you need to go to Singea to find your friend.

Someone else can go. Jorvan or Nin-Akna.

No. Jorvan is needed here against the demons. You are useless against them. Nin-Akna could go to Singea, yes, but in that case, you will need to go to Collogia to find your other friend. In my personal opinion, however, you should go to Singea and Nin-Akna to Collogia. But either way, you need to go.

I suppose you’re right. So, what do I need to do?

Mikranasta stopped circling directly across the table from Felitïa. She turned to face her, put her hands flat on the table, and leaned towards Felitïa. First, I want you to prepare your mental defences exactly as you would normally do before going to sleep.

Felitïa took a deep breath, and arranged the diamond walls of the Room… She stopped. They weren’t diamond anymore. She didn’t need diamond. They were just walls. Maybe that was the mistake she’d made last night.

If only it were that simple.

She arranged the walls of the Room and locked them in place. Two layers: an inner one around the core of her subconscious mind, and an outer one in case her subconscious mind managed to unlock the inner one. She also placed a warning on the inner one that would hopefully wake her conscious mind if it fell.

Is that what you always do, or are you improvising new defences? Mikranasta leaned forward again, eyeing her suspiciously.

Felitïa grimaced. Sorry. My abilities have changed so much in the last two days—

A jolt ran through her.

I said exactly as you would normally do. Yes, your abilities have changed, but I need to see what they do without further changes first. I need to see how your subconscious tears your defences apart. Don’t worry. My shield will protect you when that happens.

Right, sorry. She dismissed the entire set-up and replaced it with the diamond walls.

Now, sleep.

Mikranasta didn’t appear to make any movements at all, but magical sleepiness passed over Felitïa, bypassing all her defences. Her eyes flickered and she instinctively fought to stay awake, but to no avail. Sleep overtook her.

* * * * *

A net was constricting around her. It was hard to breathe and even harder to move. She fought it. She pulled at the strands, tried to rip them, even bit at them. She writhed about, rolled over, kicked, but nothing worked. If the net got much tighter, it wouldn’t matter whether she could breathe. It would collapse her chest and crush her skull.

Felitïa screamed, and the net tore.

That was unexpected, but she could hardly pass up the opportunity. She pulled at the strands and managed to get her right arm free, then her right leg, and then her head. Gasping at the fresh air, she continued pulling herself free.

Where was she?

Other than caught in a net, of course.

Nowhere apparently. There was just blackness around her.

She was still asleep. This was a dream.

The net reformed some distance from her, stretching around her in a full sphere.

Not, not a net. Mikranasta’s shield.

Oh gods, I’m sorry, Mikranasta. I shouldn’t have done that, but I thought I was suffocating.

Do not be sorry in this case. I was expecting it, even hoping for it.

I don’t understand.

The shield moved in closer to her. It was only moments after you fell asleep that your defences fell apart. Then only moments later, you attacked the shield. It was then I decided this was a good time to find out what you’re capable of. Your unconscious mind put up quite the fight, but it was losing, so you awakened your conscious mind and tore free.

I’m lucid dreaming.

Yes. Now, let’s see what your conscious mind can do. The shield began to constrict in size.

Felitïa tried to move her actual body, but not even her eyes would open. Why not let me wake up then?

One thing at a time. I want to observe your mind without bodily assistance. Now fight the shield. I give you permission to do your best to break free.

The shield constricted faster. Felitïa formed walls to block its movement, but they only slowed it down a little. There was a section where the weaves were less dense, and she unravelled several of them, but for every one she unravelled, two more wove in their place. She undid them faster, but now, for every one she removed, three more replaced them.

The shield was still constricting, squashing her presence down smaller. This methodical approach wasn’t working. Brute force had worked last time. Maybe it would again. She pushed her walls outwards with all the force she could muster. For just the tiniest moment, they pushed the shield away from her. Then they collapsed as the shield constricted again.

She tried screaming again, but it had no effect. That wasn’t really surprising. The previous scream had been pure panic. It might have precipitated some other action from her, but it was not what had broken her out last time.

The shield forced her presence down to a pinprick, almost enough to snuff out her very existence. Then it vanished, and Felitïa jolted awake.

She was still in the palace library, and still in the seat she had been in when Mikranasta had put her to sleep, though she had a crick in her neck now. Mikranasta still stood across from her.

“Interesting.” Mikranasta strode around the table.

Felitïa rubbed her neck. “You’re too strong for me. I couldn’t break free. That’s good, isn’t it? You don’t have to worry about me.”

“You broke free the first time.”

“Only out of panic.”

“Panic can let us instinctively access things we are otherwise unaware of.” Mikranasta stopped beside Felitïa’s chair. “When you are able to do that without panicking, I will have much to worry about.” She held out her hand to Felitïa, who took it and stood up. “Tell me your full assessment of the situation.”

Felitïa rubbed her neck again. “My neck aches, but that’s mostly from sleeping in the chair. Otherwise, I don’t feel particularly drained. I didn’t use any magical power. Mentally, I feel find. When I was dreaming, I thought I was suffocating, but when I was lucid, I didn’t feel that at all. You came very close to erasing me completely, but I didn’t… It’s hard to say. I guess I didn’t feel constricted even though I was.”

Mikranasta gave a slight nod. “What else?”

Felitïa thought for a moment, then shrugged. “Not much else, really.”

Mikranasta shook her head. “There is more that is very important. Your assessment should be of more than yourself. What of your opponent?”

“I’m not you. I…” Felitïa stared down at her.

Mikranasta was staring back up at Felitïa with narrowed, slightly reddened eyes. She was holding herself tall, but there was a slight droop in her wings. She raised her eyebrows and tilted her head slightly.

“You’re speaking aloud.”

With a contented sigh, Mikranasta nodded, and turned towards the table. She rested her hands on it, and bent over it, breathing heavily.

“You’re exhausted.”

“I am. I won, but only barely.”

Felitïa reached out to touch her shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

Mikranasta pulled away, and turned around to face Felitïa again. “Don’t be. I asked you to do it. It was important I know your limits. I’m not sure I found them, but I am content with the results.” She straightened up, and headed towards the door. “Remain here until I get back. I will send Hedromornasta. Be gentle with him.”

“Of course.”

“And don’t leave.”

“Where are you going?”

Mikranasta opened the door, but looked back to Felitïa. “To speak to Lady Anita Belone, and then to Jorvanultumn, and possibly others of your friends. We are going to need to isolate you. You must have minimal contact with other minds for their own protection.”

Felitïa drooped, but nodded. “Agreed.”

Mikranasta turned to the guard on the other side of the door. “No one apart from me or my siare is allowed access.” She closed the door, and started crossing the room while addressing Felitïa again. “Don’t go to sleep, and be wary of the guards outside. I’d dismiss them, but then people could unknowingly enter.”

Felitïa nodded.

Mikranasta reached the other door and went through it. She told the guard there the same thing she’d told the other one, and closed the door behind her.

With a groan, Felitïa sat down at the table again. Gods, she hated this. She had never asked to be the Will-Breaker. There had been times when she’d thought she accepted it, even liked it, but now? No.

Never had she been more scared of herself.