Chapter 16

D estien points at the strike teams. "One member of each team, confirm that."

No one goes anywhere.

After a moment, the first answers tensely, "Confirmed," and then another, and another.

I keep my eyes and smile on Destien, and he keeps his on me.

Thank goodness that worked, or this moment would have been very embarrassing for me. But as it is? Ah, sweet victory.

"Well well," Destien finally says. "Well played, Wizard Master."

People only use my title when they want something from me.

"High Earth's attacks on Low Earth wizards and attempts at stealing our magic stop now, Adept," I tell him. "I expect a formal apology. And then I will consider how many of you get to go home."

This last is mostly a bluff. I don't think the wizards would stand for me killing all of them, which is to their moral credit if not perhaps tactically advisable, and I also don't have anywhere set up to imprison them.

But it's also an opening bid for negotiation.

Because after what they've put me through in the last month, they are going to make more reparations than just a promise to stop that I expect them to do their best to work around.

Destien's eyes flare with something—frustration at having been beaten by me? or is that pride?—and then he bows.

As one, every High Earth mage follows him.

It doesn't last long. A moment.

But it's a moment of respect and acknowledgement I never expected to get from High Earth, and from my old rival least of all.

"High Earth extends its apologies to the wizards of Low Earth," Destien says as he stands back up. "We hope you will forgive this misstep in our new formal relationship due to our extenuating circumstances."

I let that characterization—"misstep," ha—go for a moment while I focus on the more interesting part: "And what circumstances justify your behavior?"

"High Earth is suffering from another plague," Destien tells me. "And this one is affecting the whole planet."

Again ? "A different one?"

"We assume, as the source spell hasn't been located," he says grimly, "but with the entire world facing the same problem, we have recently learned that before a person dies, their magic is drained from them first."

Holy shit.

That must be what changed, to escalate with the Lances. Take me out, and they could have free access to Low Earth's magic again.

Because not only do they not have the supply they're used to from Low Earth, they're losing their own.

"They're punishing you," I murmur.

And Destien doesn't bother to ask who I mean, because it makes too much sense for Bright Earth to be the culprits.

They were responsible for the last plague spell.

And with their temporary release of Low Earth's magic, High Earth's tithe to them would be smaller. If they want to keep the same amount of power, they'll have to steal it.

Destien is just looking at me, fiercely, waiting.

And finally, I realize at least part of what he's been doing.

He needed me to prove that they couldn't just steal Low Earth's magic.

He needed me to beat the best they could throw at me, to give him an excuse to be able to explain the situation to a political enemy.

So that he could get my help .

Oh my god, now I really want to punch him. Like more so than usual.

I twirl my wand slightly so he'll be watching, and then write a brief, glowing message in the dirt at his feet that disappears after he glances at it.

Would it have really killed you to just ask?

His answer at my own feet isn't what I expect.

It might have killed you .

He very nearly did as it was. Is he really going to play the grand magus' favorite ‘I was trying to kill you to make you stronger' card?

But I look at Destien's face, and he looks mad .

I don't think that's it.

Something else is going on.

Nariel lands beside me. "A convenient explanation," he says, "but before we can decide whether High Earth's word can be trusted, after it has so recently been broken, Dark Earth and Low Earth will require a show of your commitment."

Great idea, A+ backup.

And it buys me time to figure out what the fuck I'm supposed to do about this.

I never really got much past the ‘getting High Earth off my back' part of planning.

Destien's eyebrows lift, and his gaze doesn't leave mine. "Does the Prince of Makora speak for you, Wizard Master?"

Loaded question. I don't want to undercut Nariel or our alliance, but I also don't want anyone to think they can undercut me . "The prince and I are in agreement on this point. "

And Destien just nods, like that was expected and totally fine. Was he prepared for this, or is he just that good at appearing in control?

I've thought before that despite all his resources, part of the reason he never caught up to me in magic was that he wasn't as devoted to it as I was.

For the first time, I'm considering that might not have been a mistake on his part, but a choice.

Because he does have both the political and magical power to get himself assigned to the problem of handling an inter-world magic problem.

"For Dark Earth, then," Destien says, "I offer my word to stand in for High Earth that we have not and will not share the news of your freedom from imprisonment with Bright Earth."

Oh, wow. And they could have shared that if they thought it would work as a reprieve, or distraction. Why didn't they?

"Nariel is not in violation of his agreement," I say. "He didn't break out. I broke him out."

Destien blinks twice, taking that in and what it means.

No one from High Earth has been to Dark Earth in centuries.

Though it makes me wonder if Evram ever visited, in his youth.

"And you managed to prevent Bright Earth from finding out so far. But do you think they will care about the distinction?" Destien asks.

I absolutely do not.

Nariel says, "If you can guarantee High Earth's silence, then Dark Earth accepts your token. And for Low Earth?"

Destien reaches into his robe and withdraws a stick.

I tense, but all he does is extend it out to me.

At first glance it looks like a wand, but no, it has gold bands around each end and is shaped more like—a staff?

Abruptly I know what this is.

"As an apology to Low Earth, and a sign of our commitment to better future relations," Destien says, "I offer this treasure from our collection in High Earth, to use as you will. Anyone, no matter their mastery of spellcraft, can use this weapon."

A perfect gift for Low Earth, where the wizards are untrained, and to demonstrate his good intentions, because he's giving us a weapon we would otherwise use against him.

I take the stick from him and call, "Hey, Brook! This is for you."

The Lances all startle at this as my sister pushes through the wall of spirits to jog up to where I'm at.

But not Destien, and I wonder if he always meant this to be for her.

I hand Brook the stick. "Imagine it getting longer."

She looks at me with narrowed eyes. "I'm not a wizard."

"No," I agree, "but you can still wield power."

My sister takes the staff, frowning .

It cooperatively forms into a golden-ringed staff in her hands.

She looks wide-eyed at me and then at Destien, who inclines his head.

And maybe this was all just an effort to play me—being nice to my sister, guaranteeing Nariel's safety—but you know what? It works. That's behavior I want to encourage.

People helping each other live freely, with access to the power they need. That's the point .

So I know, all at once, how I want to play this.

I've proven that Low Earth can't be fucked with.

Now we will get a goddamn seat at the table.

And moreover, I will build the table.

I take a breath.

"No one should suffer from the theft of their magic," I say. "Not Low Earth, not Dark Earth. And not High Earth. In light of the tempestuous conditions in High Earth, I will allow you to return to High Earth, and we will set up three portals you may use to borrow magic from Low Earth that I will expect to be repaid when the source of the magic drain in High Earth has been resolved. This is a loan, not a gift. The spirits of Makora will know if you exceed the limits I place, and I will not hesitate to revoke this favor if you abuse it and retaliate.

"You know what I'm capable of when under pressure, so I invite you to imagine what I could do with time to plan. "

Destien's eyes narrow. This isn't what he expected the offer part to be. "And in exchange?"

"And in exchange," I say, "I will have your full cooperation to investigate the cause of the plague and handle it at my discretion, along with the Prince of Makora."

My offer isn't fixing the plague. Again.

My requirement is that we, the ones who've been wronged for the longest, get to decide what to do about it.

No Bright Earth and High Earth reaching deals that affect two other worlds behind closed doors.

I look at Nariel. "Are these terms acceptable to you, or do you have anything to add?"

"High Earth will not cooperate with a demon," one of the Lances puts in before Nariel can answer.

And I in turn shoot back immediately, "Then High Earth is on its own and is no longer welcome in Low Earth in any capacity. Nariel and I are a package deal."

The man himself finally manages to say dryly, "The wizard master and I are in accord on this point."

I bite back a smile.

The Lance scoffs. "You wouldn't just cut us off and leave a world at the mercy of Bright Earth."

"Why not?" I ask. "It's what you did to my world. You can invite yourself to see how you like it."

"Our entire infrastructure would collapse," she protests.

I remember the ruins we flew over in Costa Rica .

"Yeah, that's super rough," I drawl. "If only you'd invested resources into maintaining good relations with people you could become dependent on rather than exploiting them so they'd have zero incentive not to hang you out to dry. So much sympathy."

I actually hear her teeth grinding.

"Enough," Destien says. "I accept your gracious terms, with the caveat that I will also have a say in the resolution of the problem."

Oh no. "I will of course be grateful for your counsel and will share my plans with you—" maybe after the fact, maybe not, if he decides to be in a sharing mood "—but the final say will be with me."

I glance at Nariel for approval, and he nods.

Destien says, "Only if you will swear that your decision does not do long-lasting damage to High Earth, and if it does, we will be within our rights to object."

Meaning, invade.

I mean, I get why he wants that assurance, obviously, since I've just stated how much I don't care about High Earth, but also, absolutely not.

Before I can say something impolitic, Nariel puts in, "The three of us, as acknowledged representative parties of our worlds, will sign an agreement that we each understand the potential ramifications of the solution and will not change our minds later. Our three signatures will also be considered as binding for each of our worlds. "

Destien hesitates. "I don't think I will be able to be a signatory."

To my surprise it's Nariel who says, "Then the deal is off. We insist on you, and you alone. You will secure agreement from the appropriate hierarchies."

Well well, someone's had a change of heart where Destien is concerned.

And that encourages me that I'm not reading this situation wrong. Nariel also thinks Destien is trying, in whatever bullshit way he can, to help. We can't expect that from anyone else in High Earth, so Nariel is giving him the justification Destien needs to stay involved.

"Understood," Destien murmurs. "Then we are agreed, pending that approval."

Just like that.

We won.

Then Nariel says, "Shall we get started, then?" And I blink.

Oh. He doesn't expect that approval to be forthcoming without some pressure.

So, almost done.

As Destien asks uneasily if Nariel means to come back with them now, I turn to Brook. "Got any beads?"

She digs into her pocket and pulls out a phone.

Digs into the other pocket and pulls out beads.

"You're the best," I tell her. We wouldn't be here if she hadn't been coordinating with wizards around the world while those of us with magic were occupied .

My sister smiles. "I know," she says simply.

I love that for her.

And then she says, "So are you."

And you know what?

I love that for me, too.

I spell the beads as she calls Ayaka, Seamus, Letty, and Gaspar over, and I explain what needs to happen with them for the High Earth wizards to be able to only borrow the approved amount.

"You're not going to stay long enough to clean up here?" Letty asks me.

I shake my head. "You guys can handle that. We can't give High Earth any time to get the upper hand again. I'm going to shove a better system down their throat while I have them over a barrel. Striking while the iron's hot and all that."

From several feet away, Destien clears his throat, and I grin.

"And what if you don't come back?" Seamus asks.

Brook stomps on his foot.

"Hey, I'm not saying it's likely," he protests, "just that it's sensible to have a backup plan."

"I will be back," I say, and am thrilled to find I believe it.

I've got this.

We've got this.

"But until I do," I say, "Ayaka's in charge. "

Seamus grumbles a little, and Letty narrows her eyes, but it's Ayaka who asks, "Which is different than our current setup how, precisely?"

"Namely that if anyone from another world needs a representative from Low Earth urgently and can't get to me, it's your problem," I tell her.

Letty snorts and pats Ayaka on the shoulder. Ayaka rolls her eyes.

But then looks at me and nods.

I meet everyone's eyes one by one, my chest tightening. I hadn't really realized, before now, how comfortable they'd all gotten with each other.

With the idea of magic.

With me.

"Everyone good?" I ask, to a series of unconcerned nods. My whole body warms from the inside out.

"How long do you expect to be gone?" Brook asks.

My smile breaks free. "I can do a lot in just a few days." All of them snort at this, and Brook makes to stomp on my foot this time, which I dodge and add, "But I'll check in."

And that's it. Done, easy, with no other questions, and their hands wrapped comfortably around their weapons.

Damn. Maybe I did win the part that matters after all.

"Sierra?" Nariel asks.

While I've been talking with my team, he's gotten all the mages gathered together, and I smile at him.

We make a great team.

And now it's time for our next challenge.

With my will and my wand, I open a portal to High Earth, and the mages obligingly stream into it with Destien at their head.

When they've all gone through, Nariel holds his hand out to me.

I look over my shoulder. My team—and, to my surprise, the spirits—are all waving at us.

I turn back to my partner and take his hand.

Together, we head into the portal to High Earth to deal with the angel problem once and for all.

They took our worlds.

Now I'm taking them back.