Duke Raveirmom Dear's fingers drummed a restless rhythm against the wooden railing of the tower as he gazed outward. "My lord." Messenger Dillet Apollo stood at attention, hands clasped tightly before him. "Our forces cannot penetrate that barrier. Continuing this assault merely wastes time while our casualties mount with each passing hour."

  "I know," the duke replied, his voice hollow. "I know."

  Dillet Apollo heard the unmistakable undercurrent of frustration—a rare admission of helplessness from the normally resolute commander. "Perhaps we should consult with the ladies, my lord. The esteemed sorceresses. Magic should be countered with magic, after all."

  "I shared that initial impulse, Dillet Apollo." He exhaled heavily. "The coven accompanies us by imperial decree specifically to address magical complications in this campaign. They performed admirably at Crividsylvan—aside from that unfortunate business with the demolished palace. Yet when that ominous golden barrier erupted from the earth, they weren't my first recourse. Do you understand why?"

  "You harbor reservations about them still, my lord."

  "No, that's not it. I trust them implicitly. William the Great trusts them, Doruni trusts them—what cause would I have for doubt? My reluctance to call upon the sorceresses came from this: I did not want my soldiers to see it. To see magic win the day. Because they would conclude that the age of warfare has changed, that the time of sword and shield is over, and that only magic can grant victory now. Our knights would begin to doubt the very steel in their hands. Unless our backs are against the wall, I would rather not rely on magic. For all its power, its consequences are a storm we cannot steer and a fire we cannot control."

  "That moment of necessity has arrived," the messenger observed quietly. "Without breaching that wall, our advance stalls completely. The enemy deliberately delays, awaiting reinforcements. Each minute we hesitate costs more knightly lives..." He heard the duke sigh deeply once more. "Your assessment is correct, Dillet Apollo. We must penetrate that barrier without further delay. Every moment is precious." No sooner had he spoken than he pushed away from the railing and descended the stairs with purposeful strides. "Remain here," he instructed the messenger who moved to follow. "No—better yet. Find the quartermaster and have him prepare four of our swiftest horses—the very fastest we possess."

  He moved with determined haste, his golden cloak barely touching his back as he strode forward. "We meet again, my lord," Aurelia remarked, rising gracefully from her chair with a slight bow. The tent's atmosphere was heavily perfumed with an exotic blend of lavender and thyme, accented by delicate smoke wisps rising from an ornate incense burner. Julia reclined nearby, absorbed in a deerskin-bound volume whose title suggested theatrical content. Lostya Huggins lay curled on her side upon a bed, indulging in a rare moment of repose. Ash Davan studied her sleeping countenance with fascination, idly toying with strands of her raven hair. "You've neglected the customary warning cough, my lord. This is, after all, the ladies' sanctuary."

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  "My sincere apologies," he replied, his face flushing with equal parts embarrassment and irritation. "The circumstances are urgent—please excuse the intrusion."

  "We're well aware of the urgency," Ash commented, lifting a lock of Lostya's hair to her nose for a contemplative sniff. "I merely wonder why you delayed so long before seeking the company of such lonely women."

  "Ash. Mind your tongue."

  "She speaks truthfully, Aurelia," Julia interjected, closing her book with deliberation. "We've endured a considerable wait."

  "We believed iron and blood would suffice to shatter the barrier—a presumption that proved woefully naive. Hence, I now require your assistance, ladies."

  "Are you attempting to be feline?" Lostya suddenly interrupted. "Pardon me?"

  "Will you proceed to licking next, you mischievous creature?" She swatted away Ash's hand with annoyance. "Leave my hair be—it's exceptionally delicate."

  "Time to rise, Lona," Aurelia admonished, her tone distinctly displeased. "The duke has arrived seeking our counsel regarding Cynthia's magical defenses."

  "Precisely so," the duke confirmed, finding a vacant seat. The dark-haired sorceress rolled upright with surprising agility, her legs dangling casually over the bedside as she swept her disheveled locks backward. "How specifically might we assist?" she inquired, her pale violet gaze meeting Raveirmom Dear's directly. "Shall we punch through the barrier? Similar to your approach at the West Wall?"

  "If feasible, such a solution would be ideal," the duke replied with a thin smile. "Though perhaps with less brutality than was demonstrated at Crivi."

  "How remarkable," Lostya responded with exaggerated incredulity. "Our great general, who leaves a trail of dead men in his wake, is preaching to me about brutality. Oh, I could die from the shame." She theatrically fanned her face with one hand.

  Raveirmom's expression instantly hardened. "I have no desire to pursue that particular discussion, madam."

  "Then let us address the matter at hand, my lord," Julia interjected, recognizing the dangerous undercurrent in his tone. "What specific outcome do you envision?"

  "That determination falls within your domain of expertise, ladies," Raveirmom Dear replied, mastering his irritation. "While my understanding of arcane matters remains limited, Lostya's suggestion seems promising—provided the hole you make is big enough to march an army through."

  "Undoubtedly an excellent strategy in theory, but creating such a breach presents considerable challenges in practice," Aurelia noted, her voice dropping to a near-whisper. "I've encountered numerous magical barriers throughout my career, including many designed to violently repel intruders with offensive enchantments. However," she paused meaningfully, "I've witnessed the Asiro Magic Barrier only on rare occasions, and exclusively in defensive applications. I find it hard to believe that any mage in all of Cynthia has the power to weave a spell of this magnitude."