Many of the black ships that had opened the way for the enemy were gone. The rest had positioned themselves to stand guard as dozens of far larger vessels eased closer. Several of those heavy carriers now nudged the chaos of boulders and rubble that Magister Pillion had dropped onto the strand. Men swarmed on their decks, at huge open doors in their prows, and down among the rocks, preparing for a difficult ascent against rifle-fire and sorcery.

What could Bifalt’s Magisters do to slow them? What good were rifles against so many foes?

So far, the enemy had used only lightnings and earthquakes. Perhaps those were Rile’s only Decimates. “That changes nothing,” said Brighten sourly. “They exceed us. And they are too close. We cannot sense their lightning in time to counter it. If we strike at them, they will incinerate us where we stand.

“As for earthquakes—” She shrugged. With Pillion gone, there were no Magisters of earthquake here.

King Bifalt allowed himself to rub his forehead. Working together, his earthquake-wielders could probably tear down a thousand paces of the cliff-edge. They might cripple the first ships. But the result of their efforts would be a slope, not a sheer wall. In the end, it might make the enemy’s climb easier.

“Fire?” suggested Magister Trench. “Pestilence?”

The King shook his head. He needed the Decimate of fire in the Open Hand, and he had a different use in mind for the Decimate of pestilence.

“In that case, Majesty,” said Trench, “we are left with wind and drought.”

Rile’s ships had already shown that wind could not hinder them. Drought would accomplish little in a bay full of water.

But Trench was not dissuaded. “I know wind,” he insisted. “Another storm is coming. I feel it. With enough help, I can hasten it. And the Decimate of drought can do more than pause snow. It can spur the clouds to release a blinding snowfall.

“General Klamath had similar thoughts. He was not able to test them.”

“No,” protested Magister Whimper. “We are too few.”

She seemed to mean that she was too afraid.

Forguile ignored her. “And while snow blinds the enemy, Majesty, I can take snipers down into the ruins of the emplacements. When the storm passes, we can pick our targets. We will be near enough for that. If our men above the cliff keep firing, the enemy may not spot us.”

“Yes,” said King Bifalt after a moment. “But not you, Commander. You have done enough. Leave it to Hegels. You and Captain Flisk will return to the Open Hand with me.”

The Commander’s look of protest had a wry tinge. He smiled crookedly. “As you say, Majesty.”

Without more discussion, the King sent another messenger to the Second Captain. His instructions were:

Bring only snipers. The riflemen here are enough. But gather every Magister of wind and drought. Bellegerin, Amikan, all of them. You will need them.