Shock is written in lines on Patrol’s face, too. They freeze and it’s the second I need.

“Feey’l.” I thrust and air ripples, energy rolling like waves, knocking them over like a stack of dominoes. They fall to the ground. I step over them and erect another barrier in front of Taavi and me. “Get the beads off their wrists,” I say to her. “Dig it out if you have to.”

Taavi’s feet stick like glue. Magic gushes at us, like cords of light zipping through the air. But each attack slams into my barrier, my wrists warming. “Taavi! The onyx, now! You swore.”

Their magic slams into the barrier again and I shudder, steadying my feet, pushing back. Again they fire, and I brace myself, squinting. This barrier’s going to break any second, I can feel it. Their magic smashes into the wall in front of us, making tiny holes everywhere.

Fill… uh… replenish… I bite my lip, searching for the right fucking words. “Shee’ye ya fuste!” That’s the one! The tiny holes fill themselves. The barrier between us glows a deeper shade of orange, thickening, strengthening itself.

“Get on the other side of that shield!” the Chancellor growls, and another pair of Patrol rush at me from either side, but I’m ready. I let the barrier spell fizzle out once they’re in arm’s reach. Spells form on their lips, but I snatch their collars and smack them together before they get it out. I press them together, two bodies, shoved side by side. A shield. I duck behind them just as magic from the Chancellor slams into his own men. Their shoulders shake, eyes rolling, energy buzzing through them like electricity.

The Chancellor’s mouth falls open in shock. He fumes.

I shove the bodies of the limp guards to the ground and erect another shield.

“Their numbers are almost cut in half,” I say over my shoulder to Taavi, who’s crouched over a body pulling at its wrist, her hands shaking. “Patience makes all the difference. Exploiting their weakness. He’s impatient. It’s all over his face. Look at him.”

The Chancellor is an angry red boil ready to pop.

Kai holds her javelin at the ready, but without magic, she’s as vulnerable as our people below. Foolish she’s chosen him for protection. Jhamal holds a shield of gold beside her, waiting, ready to protect her, I guess, and the heat in my palms burns hotter.

Clank.

The door in the ground opens and an army of fur-lined Ghizoni carrying curved lead blades piles out. “No,” I want to say, but they form up beside me before I can get a word out. My magic is a wall between us and the enemy. “When this barrier buckles, we’ll have seconds to fight them off.”

The Beerchi nod and the barrier shudders, flickering, as a gust of fire explodes against it.