“Couldn’t have been one of your small students, could it?” Kenning said, eyeing Will’s prone form. “I can get him into a fireman’s lift if we drag him out from under the table.”

“No need,” said Walden, and levitated him.

It was a bit showy—like all magic that involved really serious disagreements with physics—but she had the very good excuse that a child’s life was at stake. In any case, she doubted Kenning was going to be much impressed by a mere temporary abeyance of gravity after a demon-killing performance like that. Walden was already regretting what she’d said, about talented Marshals not ending up working for Chetwood; though a part of her was also thinking, Why on Earth is someone like you working for Chetwood?

Kenning recast her multilayered shield and they took Will back down the corridor to the front door. Walden frowned at the darkness beyond it. “Well, that won’t do,” she said. “If you could just stand back for a moment?”

Kenning did.

Walden would normally have summoned a mid-level demon for assistance with punching a controlled planar portal. What was the point of being an invocation specialist otherwise? But summoning anything in the middle of a critical incursion was decidedly unsafe. She opened the portal herself, with a sharp gesture and a grunt of effort, and felt the minor earthquake under her feet as the view past the doorway shimmered and resolved into the late-night lawn at the front of School House. She was pleased to glimpse that someone—most likely Ezekiel—had had the sense to set up a perimeter. “If you take him through,” she said. “Thank you very much.”

“You first,” said Kenning. “In case any nasties try to follow us out. I’ll cover you.”

“I’m not coming,” Walden said. “There are two more of them still in here, Marshal. I’m going for the tower.”

Kenning looked grave. In the tones of a medical professional delivering an unhappy diagnosis, she said, “Dr Walden, it’s already been too long. You must know there’s no chance.”

Walden inclined her head. “As I said before. Give me two hours. Then collapse the incursion.”

“You’re throwing your life away,” said Kenning. “I know we’ve had our disagreements, but this isn’t the time for an argument. Listen to me. Please.”

She meant it. Walden was touched. It didn’t change anything about what she had to do. It was her fault Nikki and Mathias were trapped in here; her fault, because she hadn’t seen it coming; her fault, because Old Faithful had first got its claws into Nikki during her lesson; her fault, for another reason too.

I still belong. You know me. You know I do.

“Thank you for your help, Laura,” she said. “I must apologise for what I said earlier. You are very good at your job. And it’s been a privilege.”