When the reinforcements finally appeared at the gate, terror seized the knight's heart with an icy grip. There were merely five horses—and one bore not a knight but a woman. Sir Lunedale swallowed convulsively, as if desperately attempting to retract every boastful declaration poised on his tongue. "What manner of reinforcement is this?" he forced the words through clenched teeth. "Why so pitifully few—and with a woman among them?"

  "You have forgotten me so swiftly?" The woman's voice carried a trace of lingering weakness. "How disappointing to discover your gallantry at the royal banquet was nothing but hollow performance, Sir Knight."

  Sir Lunedale could never fail to recognize that distinctive voice. "Lady Lostya!" he exclaimed, genuine shock evident in his tone. "What conceivable purpose brings you here?"

  "Need you truly ask? To salvage as many of your knights as possible from this demon's clutches." She guided her mare alongside his mount and offered him a carefully measured smile, cool as winter moonlight.

  "But—I was informed you required recovery, having exhausted yourself breaching the Barrier. Your physical condition..."

  "A few hours of forsaken sleep weighs infinitely less than the lives of scores of imperial knights."

  "You act on the duke's command?" She considered momentarily. "I act on my own authority."

  "Ah, a witch," the Reiss Daemon purred, settling back into its squat. A lewd grin spread across its stone face. "I take no pleasure in killing women. I prefer to ruin them."

  "Your perverse proclivities hold absolutely no interest for me, demon," Lostya Huggins replied with glacial disdain. She raised an imperious hand; a rider behind her, wearing a distinctive round-helmed cap, smoothly extracted an enormous double-handed arbalest from his back. "While I cannot identify the precise stone from which you were hewn—" The arbalester expertly seated a bolt measuring nearly two feet in length. "—and anything fired from this crossbow will blast you to smithereens."

  "Indeed? How fascinating." The demon's smile transformed from lewd to coldly menacing; its lips thinned to razor-sharp edges. "I would find the experience of being shattered quite educational—considering it is typically my adversaries who end their encounters dismembered into countless pieces." It displayed its jagged teeth in primal threat.

  "One moment," interjected Bella Coren, emerging deliberately from the shadows with Vanessa trailing closely behind. "You serve as Godma's sorceress?"

  "I do."

  "Grant us brief respite, demon."

  "As you wish, lady," the gargoyle conceded with evident reluctance.

  "State your purpose here," Bella demanded with characteristic bluntness. "Do you southerners intend to counter our magic with your own? Is that your strategy?"

  "I come to prevent unnecessary bloodshed," Lostya explained, dismounting gracefully before approaching the pool. The nauseating stench of spilled blood and the horrific tableau surrounding the water's edge threatened to overwhelm her composure, yet she maintained an impassive expression. The demon tightened its grip on its trident, poised to strike instantaneously; simultaneously, the arbalester leveled his formidable weapon, eager to obliterate the devil's grotesque head. "Maintain your distance, Lostya!" Sir Lunedale cried out, his courage deserting him. "The danger is immeasurable!"

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  "I can manage this confrontation perfectly well, sir," she replied without deigning to look back. "And when next addressing me, kindly remember to include 'Lady' in your form of address."

  "End unnecessary conflict?" Bella Coren emitted a harsh, incredulous laugh. "This present conflict exists solely because of your faction's aggression, my lady."

  Lostya halted before her, standing resolute. "I neither initiated this war nor possessed the authority to redirect its course. But this fight, right here, is one I believe I can stop."

  Bella towered over her by several inches, regarding her with undisguised contempt. "Your influence upon events proved substantial enough, lady," Vanessa observed. "You successfully breached the Asiro Barrier, did you not?"

  "I did," the raven-haired witch acknowledged without hesitation. "I—alongside my exceptionally talented colleagues."

  "Your expression betrays inappropriate pride. Are you cognizant of precisely how many Cynthian lives your accomplishment has extinguished?"

  "That... is the inevitable reality of warfare." Her voice lost some of its self-assurance. "Casualties occur on battlefields. I merely executed my assigned duties."

  "Such a fine excuse. 'Following orders'." Bella brushed a stray curl from her lips, her eyes narrowing as she prepared her attack. "And the hellfire? That unholy, blasphemous flame you unleashed. Was that an order too?"

  She hesitated perceptibly. "That particular tactic represented my own recommendation."

  "I trust you comprehend the profound consequences of your actions," Vanessa interjected, placing a restraining hand on Bella's shoulder while positioning herself between the two sorceresses. "The countless souls now condemned to eternal spiritual agony through your deployment of Hellfire."

  "It was indeed my proposal. I refuse to abdicate responsibility." Lostya lowered her head in a gesture of genuine contrition. "For this transgression—I express sincere regret."

  "Regret?" Bella hissed, her voice trembling with rage. "If your apology could bring Patrick back, I would make you kneel at my feet and say it all night. But your fire... your fire probably burned his very soul away. So your apology is worth less than shit to me."

  "...So his name was Patrick," the witch murmured, her gaze meeting Bella's across the bloody pool. "I never imagined... the mage who raised that barrier... was a man."

  "Your ignorance encompasses multitudes, whore." The mere mention of Patrick Fort stripped away Bella's final vestiges of restraint. "You dared scorch innocent souls with your abominable flame—motivated by equal measures of arrogance and ignorance."

  "I..." Lostya found herself bereft of any consolation capable of addressing such profound grief.

  "If you've journeyed here solely to tender your inadequate apology," Bella continued relentlessly, "allow me to provide immediate clarity—it remains wholly unacceptable. No individual within Saint·Asini would receive it differently. You employed the most reprehensible magic in your repertoire to annihilate their Headmaster—and now possess the audacity to solicit forgiveness?"

  "I harbored no delusions regarding absolution." Lostya shrugged with deliberate nonchalance; the sable trim adorning her elegant mantle quivered slightly as she affected an air of composure. "I merely hoped to prevent further escalation of hostilities."

  "You've expressed your regret—which accomplishes nothing to remedy the situation," Vanessa stated, maintaining a tone significantly less caustic than her colleague's. "I suggest you depart, my lady."

  Beyond the entrance gates arose the unmistakable cacophony of iron-shod hooves striking stone and a barrage of authoritative commands. A substantial contingent of heavily armored cavalry flooded into the courtyard, numerous riders bearing massive arbalests across their backs.

  "You lying bitch!" The veins stood out on Bella Coren's neck. "Is this your idea of stopping a fight?!"

  "I..." Lostya Huggins stared in genuine bewilderment; she had issued no request for additional forces.

  "Magnificent stratagem, Lady Lostya!" Gil Assimo proclaimed triumphantly, his voice now resonating with renewed confidence. "You've secured precisely the time required!"

  "Treacherous bitch," Bella snarled, transcending mere rage into incandescent fury. "BITCH!"

  "Step aside, lady," the Reiss Daemon commanded, raising its trident. "The real battle begins now."