“Anton . . .” Arina said plaintively, without even attempting to get up. “Why?”

“Don’t try to creep into my mind, Witch,” I said. “I’ll decide for myself what to do.”

“But, Anton, I only wanted—” she began. Fortunately, this time I was ready for her to try to make me talk, and the thrust of the Dominant dissolved harmlessly in the Rainbow Sphere.

“Stop that!” I exclaimed. “Enough! You lost!”

Fan stood nearby, adding more and more Power to his Magician’s Shield. And apparently summoning someone.

“Give it to me!” Arina shouted. She didn’t get up, but suddenly somehow she was on her feet, as if the earth itself had tossed her up into the air. Arina’s eyes were blazing, her hands were held out towards me—and I could feel the wallet jerking about in my pocket, trying to leap out and fly to the witch.

I struck out with a Press. In any other situation I would have had enough sheer Power to knock the person in Arina’s place off her feet.

But she was a Higher Other too. And while the Fuaran had made me a Magician Beyond Classification by chance, Arina had obviously worked long and hard on her skills. She brushed aside my Press with a wave of her hand: the flowering orchids behind her seemed to explode, and a banister rail went hurtling out of the pavilion. How right Fan had been when he decided not to meet in the museum!

I stood there, bent over slightly, waiting for what would come next.

Strangely enough, it wasn’t exactly an attack. Arina used a Triple Key—but one so powerful that my entire mental defense cracked and gave way.

“Understand me!” Arina screamed.

And I really did understand her. I felt her pain at what she had once done. Her hate for her own self-assurance and her own cowardice. Her reluctance to fight with me—and her readiness to fight to the end.

It all came down to me not wanting to let her have the prophecy without having thought the matter through properly.

“Now you understand me!” I retorted, flinging a Triple Key back at her.

It was the most absurd combat of my life. We stood there facing each other, brimming over with Power, with death-dealing spells trembling on the tips of our fingers—but without feeling the slightest hate for each other, understanding each other to the very depths of our souls . . .

And then the air around us was filled with a loud crackling and Others started pouring out of the portals that had opened up.

Fan had summoned the Inquisition.