Declan rushed the door, throwing the bars back, message be damned, and opened it to find a bloody mix of civilians, arcanists and one of the ArCore themselves. They struggled against the wind. Something screamed in the mana storm and hail like his bearing shattered on the ground as they fought to shut the door—then barricade it.

  “It came in faster than we could run,” said one man who wore the same white as administration.

  The woman to his left was barely standing. Blood leaked from her right eye and she trembled back and forth before Chen grabbed her and dragged her to a chair.

  The worst, without question, was Alister Rush. He still held the remains of a short hammer. His armor was dented in and one arm hung limp. Even worse was the shock in his eyes. “It didn’t come from the world wound,” he said. “It didn’t. It swept in from the north. West? I don’t know.”

  “I’m going to bake,” Hayden volunteered. He truly believed baking fixed everything and Declan was willing to give it a shot. If nothing else, the rubble would smell nice after House Ariloch was ripped from its foundations.

  Mana had gone from normal for Ariloch, which was to say, heavy, to thick as clotted blood in the time it took the storm to roll in.

  After assigning rooms, Declan retreated to his apartment and settled in. This was a surge. He had survived them before, even writing to his parents about how much he looked forward to the next one to his parents. Even if he couldn’t hunt, it was still opportunity.

  He drew the second mana bearing from his bag, clamping his hands over it. It didn’t hurt, and hadn’t hurt since he finished the first one. Now, he poured will into it like a rusty barrel lined with poisonous but waterproof slime. It drank as fast as he could funnel and even in a swarm, thirsted for more. Eventually he couldn’t keep up and had to surrender. But he held it close as he slept.

  When he awakened, someone had built a fire in the commons and now the firelight flickered on the walls. The house still groaned, but though the clatter of hail was fierce, it no longer struck the door head on.

  Declan made a small pot of his famous stew, even offering a bowl to Alister.

  No one wanted it when they’d had the good stuff, but Declan ate it. “Make sure you get some rest,” he said as he moved from person to person. Anxiety was the thief of sleep, but in time, exhaustion claimed one after another.

  The sun must have risen at some point, which was good because it let Declan find the source of several new leaks that had installed ad-hoc showers in the rooms below. In between emergencies, he drank in mana and funneled it. When he couldn’t, he practiced the poses Rohan had taught him, careful to limit himself to nine counts. Repeated nine counts.

  The dawn of the third morning, house sense said he had someone at the door. Alister Rush stood there, his hair combed, his expression grim. “I have to join the ArCore. We’ve been activated now that the worst is over. Going out the front is impossible, but I want your arcanists to help me go through the back.”

  “You neeed me for this?” Declan asked.

  “They’re refusing to accept ArCore authority or open the doors without your permission,” he said with frustration. “We exist, we sacrifice, we die to protect you. These derelicts spit on that. You know, Rohan is wrong in almost every way, but right about one thing. A choice can inspire others. Your choices inspired this and one day it will cost lives. Remember that. Now get your rabble to cover the rear door or deal with it when I go out and leave it open.”

  Declan quickly collected Lake, Chen and everyone else capable of launching a rune and gathered them on the stairs at the back doors. “I’ll remove the barricade and open. You go out and shut the door.”

  “Don’t order me,” Alister snarled. “You don’t ever order me. If I had killed you in the office that day, Father would have paid a fine and I’d have served a punishment, but at least he would have approved. You cost me a slot in my arcsoul, a useless rune I’ll carry until the day you die. Don’t give me reason to hasten that day.”

  “Stand down!” Declan shouted.

  “You don’t order me!” Alister screamed. Then he glanced back as dozens of runes blazed into existence. “Oh, I’m so afraid. Hit me with tier two runes, you scum.”

  “That sounds like an challenge,” Lake Domine said. “Was it, oh mighty ArCore member? Because you are a monster killer. I’m an arcanist killer. Challenge me, or get the fuck out. And when Tegan hears about you slapping your micro-dick around on a bunch of tier ones, what do you think she’ll do?”

  “Nothing.” Alister had assumed the same distant tone as his father. “She’ll do nothing because her only value to House Domine lies in the status that comes with claiming she’s one of the top members. She can’t endanger her position and we know she can’t. Open the door or I will remove it.”

  Declan moved to unbar the door and threw it open.

  The wind outside was a monster of its own, but sailing on the storm wind were blazing blue eagles who pivoted as the door slammed open, flapping in the wind. Alister sprinted out, surrounded by a single ice-blue rune.

  ‘This time, Declan picked apart the image. The earth base was the square, the moving side-lines moved inward while others pulled downard, giving a choking feeling.“Earthen Crush!” Declan shouted. “That’s what it is!”

  Earthen Crush: Open a pit in the earth and drag your enemies into it, then crush them with your will and mana. Mana Cost: High, Variable. Tier Six Rune.

  There were moments in his life when Declan knew a fuck-up had been committed. Like watching a workman tip over a stack of windows and seeing them crash to the ground. As Alister turned to look back, he recognized that the fuckee in this case was himself and the ‘up’ was screaming a supposedly secret rune.

  Electric hawks dove at Alister and exploded as the rune-shield around him rose higher.

  A dozen strike runes burst from all around Declan, most sailing through the storm ineffectively.

  “Stand aside,” Lake ordered, launching pierce runes one after the other. “There’s something really large out there and we’re attracting it. Shards aren’t worth death.”

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  This time, a score of hands helped pull the doors shut and a swarm of bodies moved to lower bars and arrange barricades.

  “Thanks for having my back,” Declan said to each of them. All of them. “In the future, if one of them starts barking orders, it’s probably better to do it. If any of you need me, I’m going to be taking advantage of the swarm mana. I’ll give the unlock order as soon as we get the clear.”

  “Then we get shards! I hit one, I saw it,” someone shouted.

  That bothered Declan. “How do you keep someone from stealing them in the aftermath? Don’t tell me everyone waits for the all clear. I’m sure there are idiots who go out during this to harvest and they’ll take shards and runes. And what stops them from getting caught?”

  “They won’t sell them here,” Chen said with surprising cheer. “Standard house rules are that shards come back to the house first, then get exchanged for like value. The binding spell only works on registered students and residents. Any large house keeps a library of common runes to trade and sells the shards somewhere else, somewhere they don’t check or care about claims.”

  “Screw the swarm mana. I want lookouts. The moment we think this is letting up, we’re going out. We’ll be the scavengers. At least for the ones near our door.” Declan was all for rules as long as the rules weren’t easily bypassed. “You steal from Ariloch and I’ll make sure your toilet stops working. You steal from anyone else…don’t tell me. I’m technically part of the staff.”

  “Listen up!” Lake shouted. “If I were anywhere near healthy, this wouldn’t even be a contest. But here’s what we’re going to do. The wave hawks have shit, are worth shit, and I would go after them last no matter what. But we’re going to claim one of big boys. If there’s a bunch, we’re all fucked, but if we do it just right?” She rubbed her fingers together in the symbol for rin. “Declan, you’re out for this. If you can strike or anything? Stick with my plan. We need two teams. One of you needs more bravery than brains because I won’t be with you. The other needs to be a little suicidal because you’ll be near me.”

  They began to plan.

  ###

  It had been six hours. Despite Lake’s claim, Declan had a role. He stood in her room, overlooking the waves of rain that made visibility so low and keeping watch.

  Attention Academy! ArCore will begin sweeps starting at Medical. Please remain in lockdown until cleared.

  “Go!” Lake shouted from down below. “Go, you bastards. You, follow me!”

  She was a general, a commander, a woman who despite her weakness held the respect of every member of Ariloch, and the members had split into a team who swarmed out the front, closest to the World Wound. These were almost all what Declan thought of as earthen rune users, their root symbol the square of Protect, some literally just Protect. Their goal was to clog the entrance to the maze from the world wound, and many had remained inside, lining the windows to cast their flimsy shields.

  Lake and anyone with actual damage had gone out the back and right, to the rear of the maze. Her team was split into two components: Lake, and everyone else. Everyone else was assigned to kill storm hawks who might swoop in. Lake had only one target.

  The maze wasn’t just damaged, it was damn near destroyed. The barrels lay smashed and scattered, barely visible in the rain. But the razor wire wasn’t gone, it was wrapped tightly around the prone form of what Declan would call a giant with slick, matted white fur that rippled with blue from the storm.

  Between bands of rain, rip and pierce runes blazed into existence, striking in a flurry that grew brighter and brighter. Other runes sailed through the air, maybe hitting hawks, maybe just panicked arcanists.

  From the far end, other runes blazed, ones Declan didn’t recognize. This wasn’t good. With their attention facing the World Wound, Lake’s team might not even see the battle behind them. Declan sprinted out and leaped down the stairs to where Chen held the one door. “There’s a battle behind them.”

  “Sullivan. They’re doing the same thing we are,” he said. “We’re not even close to a match in strength. Tell ours to give up, the runes aren’t worth the risk.”

  Declan sprinted out into the rain and made a split-second decision, heading toward the rune flares. Golden and red runes blazed in the storm over and over as he approached.

  Groups of arcanists gathered around dead storm hawks, firing runes into the corpse. “Hey!” Declan shouted. “Those are our kills.”

  “Fuck you!” one of the Sullivan arcanists shouted.

  A Strike rune blasted outward, striking Declan in the gut and dropping him to his knees as it drove the wind out of him. He would have cursed but that required breath. All around him, Arcanists snickered as they continued their blasting. “You’re stealing them. Overwhelming the signature on the corpses,” he gasped.

  “You want me to leave a signature on another corpse, keep talking,” said the closest arcanist. “Go back to your shithole and be glad House Sullivan is only taking its due instead of kicking your doors down and raiding you. We would but then we’d smell and you don’t have shit.”

  There were moments where being unable to stand was an advantage. Like, when a storm hawk dove, raking an arcanist’s eyes, and half a dozen of his fellows turned and fired. Their aim was fantastic, and the only problem was that the hawk was clinging to another man’s head.

  Declan crawled away as his screams were silenced by a loud crack. Fifteen feet away he stumbled and then ran for the door, where Lake and a clot of arcanists run, dripping. A handful carried dead storm hawks. They piled through and slammed the doors.

  “Front team pull back!” Declan shouted even as house-sense told him the door shut and barricaded. “Did we lose anyone? Everyone to the commons for a count!”

  A full-on stampede ensued to the dimly lit common room, where Declan anxiously counted and had them sound off. Three had deep gashes from storm hawk attacks, all of them the ones who had manned the front, and one had a wound Declan was sure came from a fellow arcanist, a burn that was blistering to his entire forearm. “What happened?”

  “Drevond tried to swarm our maze,” Hayden answered. “Course, they didn’t count on us stringing up razor wire ankle high. Between the hawks and the fear of one of those giants, combined with a Protect blocking them every time they moved, they made the right call. Backed the fuck away. We even let them take their injured.”

  “Did we get it?” Declan asked.

  Lake moved to the center of the crowd and held out a rune. It had more shapes and lines than he’d ever seen. So many it hurt to look at. “We did. Let the Sullivans celebrate storm hawks. We got a storm walker. We got the son of a bitch. Listen up! First, our house arcanist is going to use it to train insight. Then we’re all taking it to register with administration. If you threw a rune. If you held a fucking door, if you kept watch, you’re in. This is a tier three, a natural three. We’re splitting rin. If you disagree, I claim it. It’s my signature on it and if you think you can overwhelm me, try.”

  House Ariloch began to cheer, a raucous celebration.

  “Stay back!” someone screamed.

  While Declan and most of the house had been focused on Lake’s prize, one of the storm hawks had yielded an actual rune. The woman who clutched it backed away from two others, eyes wide. “I killed it. It’s mine and if you think I won’t fight, you’re wrong.”

  “It’s Storm Shriek,” Lake said, not even bothering to look. “It’s always Storm Shriek. Look, I get it. First rune, but you’d be better off registering the kill and buying—”

  “It’s mine.” She turned and fled up the stairs.

  Declan understood her desire. He sympathized. But he also had to ensure order. “She chose her share. I told you I didn’t care what you harvested or stole, I meant it. You can yell. You can fight. You can push and shove but you shed a drop of blood and I’ll lock you in, lock you out, or corner you and beat the living shit out of you. Sure, you’re arcanists. I’m a workman who understands what it means to work through pain. Now, let’s celebrate!”

  As the party moved…everywhere, Declan couldn’t help smiling. “You did it,” he said to Lake. “That Pierce array is the most dangerous thing I’ve seen.”

  She leaned in to answer. “I’d appreciate you not announcing that to everyone, everywhere. House Rush, their blood rune is damn near legendary, though the details are a bit hazy and constantly argued over. Us duelists have to choose the weapons we use carefully. Pierce is a tier zero rune. But it’s misunderstood. Glossed over. Understimated.” She handed him the storm walker’s rune-stone. “You know what the difference is between an identified, known rune and one you turn in at the armory for them to handle?”

  “I don’t.” He winced as he looked at it again.

  “A fuck-ton of rin. Get to work, house arcanist. Get to work.” She laughed all the way to the kitchen.