Not for me. Not now.
I fire off a set of spells that look like arrows of light arcing above and raining down on Brook’s guards.
One speeds up as it descends, nailing the guard in the back first and dropping him right away.
Her side guards get a shield raised above their heads, and my bolts punch through them. The force is strong enough the wood under their feet cracks, and they’re plunged into the holes.
From in front of her, Destien tugs Brook with him off the solid boards of the shrine floor and into the water. He must have had a directive not to let her go, because I can’t think why he’d be that stupid otherwise, knowing I’ve prepared the ground.
He falls into the water, and he’s in my spell.
Glowing beams of light like thin ropes immediately wrap around them, binding them. With a crook of my hand, I tug the magic surrounding Brook toward me, and she speeds over tome, flying over the water. She has no magical sensitivity, so the torrents of magic at the epicenter are completely lost on her.
“Holy shit, Sierra,” Brook whispers at me.
I don’t dare take my eyes off what’s in front of me: Destien in his binds, a line of guards now on their feet and ready, Evram—
Fuck. Evram’s expression is stormy.
What it isn’t is worried.
“Are you okay?” I ask Brook.
“Fine. Can’t say I’d rush to repeat the experience, but they didn’t hurt me. I admit I didn’t expect you to be able to resolve this quite so quickly.”
“We’re not done yet.”
“We’re not?”
“I’ll be back.”
“What? Wait, can’t you untie me first?”
“Sorry, this is safer.” If anything happens to the magic of this world those ropes will make sure she’s anchored here instead of taken back to High Earth.
“Sierra!”
I can’t look back. Not yet.
I can only move forward.
I wade a few steps toward the shrine, my eyes on Evram.
The grand magus looks down his nose at me. “You’ve made your choice,” he says ominously.
“So did you,” I tell him. “Long since.”
“So I did,” my once-mentor tells me. “And given what I see now, I cannot regret it.”
Really? If I’d stayed in High Earth, I wouldn’t have needed to do all this. My own selfishness and craving for magic wouldn’t have radicalized me. He could have led me on forever with just enough.
Or maybe even there, I would have come to understand that I would always be a second-class citizen, never worthbeing treated as an equal, and I would have understood that exceptionalism was no alternative to solidarity.
Maybe he’s right. Maybe this day was always coming.
“You have numbers.” I gesture around. “But here, now, I have all the magic of an entire world. Shall we talk terms?”
Evram snorts. “You see? The absolute arrogance.”
