"They've been within our walls for some time now," observed Dean Vanessa of Moslander, one leg crossed elegantly over the other, her fingernail tapping a rhythmic cadence against the wooden tabletop. Cook Laryni hefted an enormous steaming cauldron and settled it onto a low stool. "Anyone desire another serving?" she inquired, her voice abraded by years of kitchen smoke. A few students tentatively raised their ladles. "Yet curiously, we've encountered no disturbance in this quarter."

  "Perhaps Lord Pafaheim's forces have successfully contained them," ventured Dean Evelyn of Doranar, forcing optimism into her wan smile. "We may soon witness them driven back through the gates from whence they came."

  "One can only hope." Vanessa stilled her restless fingers. "One desperately hopes..."

  Bella Coren's body convulsed slightly before she gradually raised her head from the table's surface. "Be concise, Bella," Vanessa encouraged, smiling gently as she brushed an errant curl from the woman's troubled face. "What visions have you perceived?"

  "They've breached our defenses—the Godmans. The Grand Market has fallen completely. They're currently encircling... Triumphant Fort."

  "Oh." Vanessa turned away sharply, muttering a venomous curse under her breath. Evelyn cradled her face between delicate hands, closed her eyes, and released a mournful sigh that seemed drawn from her very soul.

  "Can the fortress withstand the assault?" Vanessa inquired while retying her lustrous black hair. "The garrison at Triumphant Fort?"

  Bella shook her head, her expression vacant with horror. "I cannot determine... Their numbers are overwhelming—beyond my capacity to gauge. But... I saw what they were doing... a systematic slaughter... of civilians. They spared no one. The crows... my kind... they were feasting on the eyes, the lips, the..." She pressed a hand to her mouth, unable to continue. "Countless corpses strewn everywhere—many impaled grotesquely upon lances. It is hell manifest upon earth, by Goria's grace!" The sorceress dissolved into quiet, broken sobs.

  "You mustn't surrender to despair," Evelyn murmured, placing a consoling hand upon Bella's quaking shoulder. "Patrick may yet live." Even as she spoke, disbelief undermined her own words. Bella Coren folded her arms upon the table and buried her face within their sanctuary.

  "We must deliberate our subsequent course of action," Vanessa declared, worrying her lower lip between her teeth. "Shall we attempt evacuation—or maintain our position?"

  "Must we decide at this precise moment? The Duke of Pafaheim continues his resistance—the city remains contested. We might still..."

  "Waiting is a luxury we don't have. There are over a hundred students here, most of them just children. Getting them out of Pafaheim safely will take more than time; it will take a miracle of planning."

  Evelyn's shoulders collapsed beneath an invisible weight. "Your assessment is correct..." She folded her arms protectively across her modest bosom. "We could potentially journey westward—seeking sanctuary in Liesnite."

  "A viable proposition. However, do you maintain connections in Liesnite, Evelyn? We must secure accommodations for the children." The Dean of Doranar's gaze dimmed perceptibly. "I regret I do not."

  "Phyal might represent a superior alternative," Vanessa suggested, continuing the strategic discussion. "While my own acquaintances there are similarly limited, the capital's fortifications will undoubtedly prove more formidable—consequently safer. Regarding the students' lodging—I managed to save a little of our gold before Patrick turned the rest of it into dust for his wall."

  Bella Coren wiped her reddened eyes with her sleeve. "Reaching Phyal is impossible—if we attempt the direct northern route. Godman soldiers swarm the vicinity of Triumphant Fort, systematically executing door-to-door massacres. Concealing our movements would prove futile."

  "An astute observation—particularly while daylight persists." Dean Vanessa of Moslander glanced toward the tendrils of amber light stretching across the floor from the window. "We shall commence our departure once darkness descends."

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

  "Toward Phyal?" Bella inquired. "No—Liesnite shall be our initial destination. Given your awareness of conditions surrounding Triumphant Fort, we must exercise maximum caution." "I concur completely," affirmed Evelyn.

  Within approximately a quarter-hour, the sun had nearly submerged its corpulent form beneath the horizon. "Come, come!" Frantic footfalls clattered urgently up the spiral staircase. "Come, come!"

  "If you have something to say, Erica, say it plainly! Stop this breathless dancing around and get to the point!"

  "They're here—they've arrived!" The tall girl's face had flushed crimson; her constellation of freckles seemed about to detach from her skin. Bella Coren launched herself from her chair with alarming velocity. Evelyn's hands contracted into white-knuckled fists. Vanessa remained immobilized by shock.

  "Quantify their numbers," Bella demanded. Erica extended her arms to their maximum span, as though attempting to embrace some massive creature. "THIS numerous! COUNTLESS!"

  "Damnation. Cursed fates." Bella approached the window and drove her fist against its precariously mounted frame. "We must depart immediately. Without a moment's delay."

  "Erica—resume your observation post. Should circumstances alter, return with haste and inform us." The girl departed without acknowledging the instruction—already sprinting back toward her vantage point.

  "What evacuation route remains viable?" Evelyn questioned anxiously. "The Godmans have established position at the Academy entrance. Our Spiral Lance Tower looms over the slums like a beacon... to them, this little castle of ours must look like the perfect forward base..."

  "While conventional streets are now inaccessible—the subterranean passage might remain uncompromised."

  "You refer to an underground route? Vanessa—please elaborate. Is it the passageway beneath the hill?"

  "To my knowledge—that singular option exists." Vanessa directed her index finger toward the floor beneath them. "Saint·Asini was constructed adjacent to that modest elevation. We could utilize the concealed pathway into the hill's foundation—and emerge beyond."

  "Where does this passage terminate?"

  "That particular detail eludes me." Evelyn shook her head decisively. "Such uncertainty represents an unacceptable hazard."

  "That tunnel," Bella said, her voice tight, "it hasn't been used since the Cynthian civil war. That was before Doranar was even here, back when this was some forgotten lord's keep. We know nothing about it—not where it leads, not if it's even still open."

  "It represents our sole remaining escape option," Vanessa countered, gesturing emphatically with outstretched hands.

  "Come! Come!" Erica's voice echoed from midway along the staircase. "They've reached our entrance! Fully armored—mounted knights!"

  "May the gods curse these southern interlopers." The Dean of Moslander pressed her substantial fist against her broad forehead. "Had their arrival been delayed marginally, we might have executed our withdrawal under night's protective shroud."

  "We must implement decisive action," proclaimed Dean Evelyn of Doranar, rising determinedly while gathering the fabric of her silk garment between anxious fingers. "The children's protection remains our paramount obligation." The assembled students maintained a grave silence, their gazes fixed upon tabletops, empty bowls, or their own motionless limbs.

  "We shall divide responsibilities between us, sisters," Bella Coren proposed resolutely.

  "What specific allocation do you envision?"

  "A tripartite division of labor," Bella specified, raising three slender fingers. "Vanessa—investigate whether the rear hillside passage remains traversable. Evelyn—negotiate with the Godman representatives; extend discussions for the maximum possible duration. As for myself..." She hesitated momentarily. "I shall seek external assistance."

  "From what conceivable source? No potential allies remain within our reach."

  "...The statues lining the corridor."

  Evelyn seized her arm with unexpected force. "Think about what you're saying, Bella. No one has ever asked those things for help. They are tricksters by their very nature."

  "Doranar positioned them within these walls with specific intent," Bella insisted, moderating her tone to convey reassurance. "They were specifically placed in anticipation of precisely such dire circumstances."

  "Those effigies predated Saint·Asini's construction by incalculable years. They exceed Doranar's age by centuries—perhaps millennia."

  "I must nevertheless attempt communication. Without their intervention, we possess no effective countermeasure against the Godman forces."

  "Should you proceed with this perilous course, exercise extreme vigilance regarding their precise phraseology," Evelyn cautioned gravely. "Demons derive particular satisfaction from constructing elaborate verbal entrapments."

  "I'll go talk to the Godmans," Vanessa said. "Evelyn, you're too gentle. They'll walk all over you. This is a job for a battle-axe, not a diplomat." She concluded with a self-deprecating smile.

  Evelyn returned the gesture with grateful warmth, clasping Vanessa's hands in silent appreciation.