“Ah, I thought you might say that,” said Devon. “However, Melichor’s Muscular Fortification is something of an advanced spell. We wouldn’t expect a student to master that until they were well into post-secondary education. When did you first learn the strength rune, Yenni Ajani?”

“I must have just passed nine rains,” she replied and set the table down with a thud.

Devon nodded. “Yes. And furthermore, the strength rune, as well as others, can be applied to inanimate objects and controlled remotely, though admittedly this is a more complex procedure.”

“None of this changes the fact that Mam’selle . . . Kayerba has failed all her magical examinations,” said Mainard, frowning at Devon.

“All except runelore,” Devon clarified, and his voice took on a sharper tone she’d never heard from him before. “As I said, she was working as my teaching assistant at the time—”

“Not according to any official records, Professor Devon. You know the rules. I can’t break them merely because you’ve taken an interest in this Island woman.”

Devon’s face went red. “Now see here! Mam’selle Kayirba is a credit to this academy and I’d think that as a man of magical science you would see the benefit in having her around. It won’t do—”

Professor Mainard pounded his desk with his fist, his face just as red as Devon’s. “What won’t do, Devon, is having a young upstart marching into my office and trying to tell me how to run my division!”

Devon glanced up and Yenni followed his eyes. A pointed metal instrument teetered just on the edge of a shelf right over Mainard’s head.

“Professor Mainard—” she began.

“Be quiet! Nothing you say will persuade me. I’ve heard enough.”

“How dare you speak to me in that way?” shouted Yenni, even as Devon mumbled nervously beside her. “I am trying to—”

“Exit my office this instant!” He slammed his fist on the desk again, and Yenni could have sworn she felt the slightest tremor of ach’e. Was Mainard readying some spell to attack them?

The pointy thing tipped over the edge, shooting arrow-like for the gleaming crown of Mainard’s head.

“Professor Mainard! Above!” shouted Devon. Even as Mainard was looking up Yenni was dragging on all her speed runes, sending warmth through her arms and legs. She hurtled over the coffee table and snatched at the blade-like device, catching it a mere inch from Mainard’s forehead. It cut into her skin but she flared the pain ward painted down her spine and held it. She threw the thing, whatever it was, on the desk and held her bleeding hand to her chest. Mainard gaped at her.

“Byen!” cried Devon and hurried over. “Yenni—you’re bleeding!” He took off his professor’s stole and wrapped it clumsily around her hand.

“Are you all right?” Yenni demanded of Mainard, even though it was clear he wasn’t.