Yenni tried to think of some spell, any spell that would help her, but too soon the thief Jean was on her, grabbing her by the front of her mage’s coat. His blue eyes burned into hers from above a kerchief wrapped around his face.

Mothers and Fathers, forgive my failure and receive my spirit.

She yelped as his knife nicked her left shoulder, then her right one, so sharp it cut right through her coat. Two more quick slashes on the left and right side of her torso and her satchel fell free. He grabbed it.

“Source-fueled leap to mimic flight!” he shouted and then jumped clean up into the air. His ratty coat flapped around him as he disappeared onto the roof with her bag.

“Jean!” bellowed the thief back in the alley, but the other one gave Yenni’s leg one great yank and she tumbled. She couldn’t put out her arms to break her fall, and her shoulder smacked painfully into the pavement. The thief dragged himself over her, grabbed her hair, and slammed her head into the ground. Pain bloomed from the back of her skull, spreading into her teeth and jaw. By instinct she pulled on her pain wards otherwise she may well have fainted.

“How should I repay you, en?” said the thief. The stale stink of his breath made Yenni want to gag. Her head ached, and her pulse made a loud thudding in her ears. The thief held the blades of his knuckle weapon in front of her eyes. “You like blinding people? Maybe I’ll blind you, bitch.”

“There from me by source repelled!”

Yenni saw the thief’s eyes go wide and a split moment later he went flying toward the back of the alley, pushed by an incredible force.

“Yenni!”

Diedre’s beautiful face hovered above hers. “Come on!” She pulled Yenni to her feet, supporting her as she swayed and blinked back white lights at the edges of her vision.

“Diedre,” Yenni groaned.

“Yenni! What—ah!” Diedre screamed and jerked against Yenni. Cruel laughter rose above the muffled pub music. One last thief continued to hobble toward them, hugging the alley wall. Diedre breathed heavily, her braids falling across her face and a knife sticking out of her shoulder. She turned back to face the thug, rage in her eyes.

“Sleep by source, wake no time soon,” she snarled.

A thick, heavy blanket of ach’e coated the air. The thief on the wall slumped to the ground in a dead faint, as did his friend, whom Diedre had sent flying. Yenni’s own eyes went heavy, her legs weak.

“No, no, no, not you, mams!” said Diedre, her voice hoarse with pain. She shook Yenni. “Fight it! The spell is not that strong, it only worked on those guys because they lost so much blood already!”