Zezili peered across the mud to where the girl lay with some tall Saiduan. Her companions had scattered.

“Open it up right behind them!” Zezili yelled. She chanced a look over her shoulder. The air around them was heavy as spoiled milk. She saw the shimmering heat of her blazing women begin to ebb. The cries faded. She heard the roar of a vortex. Monshara would be calling up her omajistas to retaliate now. Zezili had every intention of annihilating this little girl when she was done with her, wreaking vengeance on her for every good woman gone.

But she wasn’t done yet.

“Zezili,” Jasoi said, “The legion–”

“Keep your shit-soaked head down,” Zezili said. “If my women remembered anything, that second wave kept their blighted heads down.”

Zezili had spent two decades fighting the gifted and mundane alike. When they went off, it was best to separate and stay low while the Seekers picked them off. It was easy to kill great groups, but destroying individuals took more time and concentration. Winning against magic required fast reflexes and stealth. Hitting hard and unexpectedly was the only way to keep breathing.

She had guessed the girl’s ability was latent. She just hoped to keep it that way until she shoved her in front of the mirror. If she hit something hard enough, it was supposed to fall in line. So it was time to hit harder.

“Isoail!”

“Stupid woman,” Isoail spat.

“We’ll all be dead in twenty minutes anyway,” Zezili said. “Open the fucking gate!”

The air crackled. It got so thick, Zezili gulped air like water; it was like trying to breathe molasses. A whirling vortex moved over her, carrying with it a bloody crimson mist that rained across Zezili’s body. She kept her head covered, for all the good it did, and kept her eyes on the space behind the girl and the sanisi.

She needed a distraction.

The whirling tornado of blood coalesced just behind the girl and the sanisi. The Saiduan raised his head, his attention fixed on the swirling blood.

Zezili tensed. “You have your dagger on you, Jasoi?”

“Yes, Syre.”

“When I say, you hit that Saiduan’s neck. You understand?”

“He’ll chop me in two!”

“I’ll do worse if you don’t!” Zezili said. “Throw the knife. I’ll take the girl through. You have the legion.”

“Syre, this isn’t–”

“Take the legion!” Zezili said. “They’re my women, and I’m giving them to you until I get back. You understand? Now throw the knife.”

“Zezili!” Isoail called.

“Just open it,” Zezili said, “and close it behind me.”

“How are you going to get back?” Isoail asked.

“Let me deal with that. Jasoi?”

Jasoi still hadn’t moved. The gate flickered into existence.

“Curse you to Rhea’s seat!” Zezili said. She looked back at Jasoi. She was whispering what sounded like prayers in Tordinian. “Now, Jasoi, or we’ve lost more than the legion!”