From somewhere, bowmen appeared in the throng of the enemy. They managed three or four flights of arrows. A few riflemen were struck. But the King’s men had been training for years. Elgart was a superior marksman. And Prince Jaspid had no equal. When they were able to locate the archers in the seething mass of the enemy, they fired until there were no more arrows.

Bifalt could be seen in glimpses, moving along the wall to give instructions or advice, doing what he could for his few wounded. The fallen were hidden by the parapets.

Now Magisters appeared among the defenders, eight of them. Their robes did not identify their Decimates. And they did not unleash sorcery on the enemy. They stood together behind the riflemen while King Bifalt gave them their orders. Then they spread out to protect as much of the wall as they could.

They would not last long, thought Estie. She knew those fortifications better than anyone with her except Crayn. The scene that she fashioned in her mind stunned her. Whatever those Magisters did, they had too little stamina. They could not stand against an enemy who had broken into the Bay of Lights despite riflemen, Magisters, and cannon. An enemy whose sorcerers had powers she could not imagine.

She may have waited a long time for the outcome. Or the time may have been short. She could not measure it. Her husband’s peril consumed her.

When Magister Bleak shouted, “Earthquake!” she might have fallen to her knees if Crayn had not caught her.

The infantrymen drew back from the walls. As they shifted away, the ground in front of the gates began to crack and heave. Chunks of dirt and stone were swallowed. Debris like scree spat upward. Ripples spread out along the base of the wall.

Estie could not see it. Fear and the Farsighted painted it for her. The enemy’s Decimate grew stronger. In another moment, the gate’s anchor-stones would start to split. Twisting forces would tear the gate itself apart. The men on the ramparts would be pitched to their deaths. Rile’s solders would swarm—

“No!” gasped Bleak. “The King’s Magisters—!”

While Bleak panted, the albino rasped, “Their Decimate is earthquake also. What one sorcerer can do, another can counter. They dismiss the enemy’s attack. The ground settles.”

Even this threat, Bifalt had foreseen.

Tension gripped the librarian’s workroom. None of the Magisters moved a muscle. Commander Crayn stood as if he were made of stone.

“It is not enough!” cried Joyly. “Another wave—”

“The Great God’s sorcerers,” coughed Magister Bleak between gasps. “I did not know that they could be so strong.”

“The ground rises again,” snarled the other Farsighted. “Curse them! This heave is greater.”