Dreen cleared her throat. “I don’t know if that’s possible, Mage Lindin. We can’t quell the mage-mist, which is the cause of our panic. We can’t keep it from spreading further beyond our borders, or prevent our neighbours from making good on their threats.”

“No,” Barl said slowly. “But I can… provided you can hold back Brantone and the others for just a little longer.”

“How?” Venette demanded. “You’re a talented mage, I grant you, but there are limits, Mage Lindin. This is no time for arrogant boasting or vainglorious dreams. False hope is worse than no hope at all.”

“I can—I think I can—raise a warding on our borders,” Barl said, after a moment. She was staring at the book she’d set aside. “One strong enough to contain Dorana’s unravelling within it.”

“And then what?” said Dreen. “We slowly but surely perish, trapped and swallowed by mage-mist and justice alone knows what other calamities?”

“Of course not. With the immediate danger of our angry neighbours averted, I can work towards healing Dorana.”

Remmie Lindin snorted. “By yourself?”

“No,” she said, carefully. “With Morgan’s help, I hope.”

“Your brother’s right,” said Dreen, shocked. “You’re mad.”

Barl held up an entreating hand. “Please, hear me out. I won’t deny Morgan’s lost his reason. But it’s my hope that with this binding, with this chance to rest, he’ll return to himself. And if—when—he does, I know he’ll want to make amends. I know he’ll help me turn back this dark tide.”

Venette shook her head. “That’s if it can be turned back. I’m not sure that’s possible. We never got the chance to start the great working, and now with so many of Dorana’s best mages perished… and worse…”

The pain of that threatened to choke her. They’d come to Elvado on her authority, trusting in her and the Council. Now they were dead or beasted or in hiding, their lives a stinking ruin around them.

“We won’t know what’s possible until we try,” said Barl, standing. “And we have to try. With or without Morgan’s help, we have to. We can’t cower here, weeping and wailing and wringing our hands, waiting for foreign warriors to slaughter us.”

Exhausted, Venette pressed dirty fingertips to her eyes. “I fear there’s little the rest of us can do, Mage Lindin, with our mage powers denied us.”