She unlocks one of the dark wooden doors, and we enter an office, a colossal space with floor-to-ceiling Georgian windows looking out onto the Border Woods. An oak desk dominates one side, bookshelves cover every wall, and a giant brass pentagram inlays one half of the wooden floor. But it’s the colorful array of crystals, ornaments, and stranger objects littering every available surface that catches my eye. It looks like one of those occultist shops that always smell of burning grass. This room smells of dusty books, though, and burnt paper, with a hint of chlorine.

Laasya points to a chair. “You can take a seat if you want. The councilor won’t be long.”

I study the woman the guards have left alone with me. The stick of a girl with a mess of dark hair, thick glasses, and doe-brown eyes. She looks like a puff of air might break her, but I saw her throw giant men across the steelworks with a flick of her finger.

“I’ve seen you take care of yourself, but should the guards be leaving you on your own with me? Aren’t I supposed to be dangerous?”

She cuts me a sideways glance, chin rising, a flash of fire in her eyes. “I’m a lot stronger than I look, Channeler. I may not seem like much, but I am a battle witch. Witch-born from both sides and from two of the strongest Indian lineages. I’m not in any danger.”

The fact that a woman as slight as Laasya can defend herself because of magic amazes me. I’ve only seen shit like that on television. But how fast is she?

“Even in chains, though, if a prisoner grabbed you by surprise, he could hurt you pretty easily.” I raise the links between my wrist and simulate a choke hold.

Her mouth quirks, eyes twinkling. “Is this a challenge?”

I grin, recognizing a fellow competitor. “Yeah. Yeah, okay, it’s a challenge.”

She spins to turn her back to me. “Go.”

I lunge, chains rattling. I have no intention of hurting the woman, but if I can nudge her back before…

The blow hits my chest like a truck and sends me so far across the slate floor my sprawling body crashes against the far side of the office. Iron chain clatters wood as the invisible force then lifts me off the ground and flattens me to a bookshelf. Crystals, vials, and thick tomes crash to the floor. The pressure of the push is so strong I can hardly catch a breath. My fingers scrabble at my chest in a fruitless attempt to pull the invisible hand away. And inside my body, some answering force, like a deeply buried fist, asks for permission to punch back. Instinct screams at me to release it, but fear for Laasya’s safety holds me back.