"What do you mean Nithercott's creatures?" Kommora snapped. Loren Rummage never told her of this. She knew to keep a close on eye on Seiren Nithercott.

"We saw them on our way back from Acrise," said Southwark, his face pale. "She said the Hannans used them to breach Acrise. They were her human experiments when she undertook Council-approved research in Bicknor. We managed to kill a few, but they're pretty hardy -- the modified runes are infused into their entire body, so you need to tear them to shreds or they regenerate."

"It's like some mad scientist's dream come true," muttered Ashworth.

A muscle twitched in Kommora's jaw. What a dangerous girl. Regeneration. She wondered if this was the same project she'd given up after being attacked by Ashworth. Rummage hadn't told her much about what happened after that.

Shouts came from behind them. Claps and snaps filled the air, followed by the rumble and crack of flash and burst magic. Kommora whirled around. The creatures leapt onto the mages, tearing into their flesh. Magic caught the monsters' sides, throwing some off, but they bounced back with a deadly gleam in their eyes and mouths dripping with saliva and blood.

"You said they were human experiments. What are they now? Sentient?"

"No. Wild. Bloodthirsty. Deadly." Ashworth pulled out several throwing knives, red-orange runes wrapped at the hilt. With one swift movement, she launched the knife, which embedded itself into the neck of a creature. She clapped her hands and threw a second one without waiting for the results. The knife gleamed and exploded, blowing it into large flaming chunks. "Shred them! Or it'll come back!"

The bewildered, injured mage didn't waste time to argue. He clenched his fists. Water droplets collected on the surface of the ground and seeped into the body before exploding outwards, spraying the nearby vicinity with blood.

Screams emanated from the houses as the creatures stormed in. Children's cries mixed in with the chaos. Without hesitation, the mages leapt into action, throwing magic to shield the Karmans from harm. All elements collided, throwing sparks, dust, water droplets in the air. The stench of blood and death hung heavy, punctuated by the animalistic screeches of the reanimations.

Kommora marched ahead, pausing at several innocuous-appearing closed shops. She drew out her paper and with a fluid hand sketched out ten identical violet runes.

"Take these," she said, thrusting them at Southwark's group. "Put one each on the two sealed steel containers by the canals, Villin's headquarters, the old Benover train station." She rattled off the locations Liore had told her in the encrypted message.

"What are these places?"

Ashworth threw several knives down and clapped her hands. The yellow runes shimmered, throwing up a temporary haze that disoriented anybody looking their way.

"The runed armouries belonging to the army." Kommora grimaced. She slapped the one she held in her hand onto the wall of the abandoned shops. It glowed violet and then dissolved into the walls. A translucent, pale purple sheen pulsed over the surface of the building, locking it down and preventing all manner of physical attacks and most magic from affecting it.

"If the 'commander of the soldiers' hearts' is here, why do we need to seal these places?" asked Azriel Edevane, the barely-graduated mage.

"Woodbead may be the leader of the old generation, but the new generation have been brainwashed into seeing him as a traitor. They wouldn't hesitate to kill us all," said Kommora. "You can't be too safe. Now move it! There's no time to lose. If we don't cut off their weaponry in time, Woodbead or no, we'll all be screwed over."

Southwark nodded and advanced, Ashworth and Edevane and a few mages following. The other mages filed in, magic exploding from their fingers. The creatures snarled and thrashed. The scent of blood and death hung heavy in the air, almost suffocating.

Kommora waited until they were out of sight and took out more paper. She glanced around. No monsters. No mages. No passers-by. She unrolled it and, with a fluid motion, sketched out a tracking rune. Remembering the feel of Pollin's fingers in hers, she infused it into the trace. The magic picked up the intended target at once, glowing a bright violet that almost blinded. The energy formed the unique pattern of the person she sought. The line shot forward. She packed up the chalk and tore ahead.

The line disappeared into a fallen wall. The snarls of the creatures became louder again. The tracker took her back to the fray of Nithercott's creations. Kommora's mouth dried at the thought of such a young girl delving into such darkness, reminding her of Kristen Harred, not much older, toying with the idea of powering rune magic with the explosive devastation of flash. Both were so young, so promising, and yet played with such black magics.

The soldiers spotted her, opening up a path as she stalked through, her black cloak flying behind. Injured people lay groaning on the ground. Snarls and screams intermingled like some twisted orchestra. Blood and saliva sprayed, making the ground slippery and wet. A thin trickle of remaining citizens were chivvied along by soldiers to evacuate the premises. Kommora took no notice of the terrified faces, focused on the direction the rune took her in. Back to the Council of Mages. Hadn't Pollin left?

Kommora took the side entrance, taking out several violet and yellow runes in case she needed to make an escape quickly. The halls were deserted. The soldiers must have vacated to deal with the chaos outside. Her footsteps echoed along the marble surfaces. Silvery light filtered through the glass at the top of the high walls, bathing the paintings in the same ethereal light as the hall of declarations.

How serene, Kommora thought with a disdainful curl of her lips. It was as if the slaughter outside did not happen.

The rune glowed brighter in her hands. She was close. She took out one of the detection runes she used to line her office and flicked her finger. The violet rune glowed and she tucked it in one of her pockets. She didn't need anyone sneaking upon her during this vital hour.

The rune took her back to the hall of declarations. The door had burned to a crisp whilst she was gone. The nose-curling scent of burned flesh -- probably from the mages who weren't lucky enough to be engulfed by Bellamy Southwark's shield -- and embers filled her nose. She grimaced, stalking across the hall and ignoring the crunch of burned debris beneath her boots. A small doorway with stairs took her up to the balcony where Pollin and his mages had sneered down at them. A movement caught her attention out of the corner of her eye. She deactivated the tracker, hurrying after the shadow.

Pollin's solitary footsteps echoed. How strange for him to not be flanked by extra personnel, especially after Kommora had effectively declared war on them. She kept on the alert, weaving past corridors and leaping up stairs. Her hips and back began to ache.

The doorway opened up to another hall, three storeys tall -- the hall of reverence, where the nominations and significant achievements of all the mages in history were placed. Statues of mages who had given birth to the greatest breakthroughs in magic history stood on either side. Thick textbooks sprawled on the table in their glass encasings.

And at the far end, tearing away, was a dark figure. Kommora scowled and threw a red rune, angling the opener forward, and flicked her finger.

The rune glowed red. Power exploded from the opening angle of the rune, firing straight at the figure, missing his head by an inch. It hit the door he headed towards and exploded, blowing him back. Shards sprayed everywhere. The doorway collapsed. The man skidded to a halt. Kommora threw up a light rune and paused in surprise.

"Well, well," she said, raising an eyebrow. "Zor Jarsdel."

The king's mage shielded his face from the light, blinded. Kommora didn't wait for him to retaliate. He was a burst and flash mage; he had the speed and power advantage over her runes. She threw out a series of light runes, augmented to maximise immediate blast of power, and gestured, shielding her own eyes. Jarsdel hollered as his vision vanished. His hand lashed out, clenching into a fist. A cluster of black dust formed at his fingertips. Kommora threw out a magic shield, not dissimilar to the one Gruger had created in the hall of declarations but on a smaller scale, and activated it. A shimmering ball engulfed her. The ball of dust shrank before exploding outwards, showing over Kommora's shield. On contact with the wooden bookcases, a faint sizzling reached her ears. The shield dropped as the magic wore out. The smell of acid made her nose wrinkle. She threw up another light rune again and gestured.

Jarsdel saw his chance. With a leer that spread across his dark features, he pounced, waving a hand that he clenched into a fist. He moved fast despite being a man in his forties. He spread his right hand out. Black dust covered his palm and he swung at Kommora, striking her square in the face.

Or so he thought. He blinked when the illusion of Kommora disappeared and he hit only air. Kommora appeared at his side and swung a chair at his head, resulting in a crack that ripped through the air. The impact reverberated through her arms, forcing her to drop it to the ground with a thud. Jarsdel's pale eyes rolled in the back of his head. He pushed himself up on all fours, panting, limbs trembling from the blow. He fell harder than she'd expected for someone of his build and calibre. Nevertheless, the pain would keep his head occupied for now, depriving him of burst magic.

Kommora drew out the gun Edgard Woodbead had given her.

"Now, Jarsdel," she said in a low voice. "You talk."

She could have drawn an indigo rune. She had the time -- for now. But this gave her more pleasure than she'd care to admit.

"What deal have you struck with Hanna?" she said in an icy voice.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" he said through gritted teeth, throwing an infuriating glance at her over his shoulder and threw out a hand. Kommora expected the black dust to form, but it never came. He clenched his fist. An invisible wall exploded outwards, slamming into Kommora and making her ears ring. The magic was weakened by his fatigue, but it took her by surprise. Before he could summon another round, Kommora pulled the trigger.

The kickback sent her back one step. Jarsdel's screams filled the air as he clutched his wounded leg. His magic dissipated.

"How are you able to use two types of flash magic?" she demanded. Jarsdel groaned, head bent over his injury. "Nobody has ever been able to manifest two. What have you been getting up to?"

Panting, he lifted up his head with a lopsided, sweaty grin.

"I've had it all along... I just haven't shown anybody."

"How is that possible?" she snapped.

"Bicknor Institute held many secrets."

His blood pooled out steadily. A flash of crimson caught Kommora's attention. Her eyes widened.

"Why do you have that Nithercott's necklace in your hand?" The girl always wore it, clutched it whenever she was nervous, fiddled with it when she was deep in thought. Every single time, without fail. Kommora figured it was some memorabilia of her mother to mean so much to her, but seeing it in Jarsdel's hands made the picture even more jarring.

When Jarsdel gave her another infuriating grin, she shot him in the leg again. He screamed, rolling over, the mirth gone. Kommora pointed her gun at his other leg.

"You're making this far too enjoyable for me, Jarsdel."

"We--confiscated--this--from--her," he said in between breaths.

"I gathered that," she said dryly. "I also know you've exiled her, but kept Rowan Woodbead. You're keeping that girl alive for some reason. She can't mean anything to you. She's just some brat with a smidge of talent. It's for Kristen Harred, isn't it?"

Bingo. Despite his agony, Jarsdel paled, sweat dripping down his face.

"You have... no idea what you're... getting into."

"I think I have enough of an idea. You want to bring down Karma. You betrayed your own country and redirected rune supplies to Hanna, giving them enough ammunition to take over Karma. What deal have you struck with Fautos Tophalis?"

When he didn't say anything, Kommora carefully pointed the gun at his chest. His pale eyes darted up at the weapon and he gulped.

"A new era," he rasped, "that's what we promised him."

Kommora's eyes narrowed.

"You Karmans and your righteousness, rewriting history when you see fit, defying the laws of nature. You'll all get what you justly deserve," he spat.

"But you're willing to buddy up with the likes of Domic Butterworth and Karis Bonneville -- what's really keeping you guys together? And what have you done with Pollin?"

He snarled.

"You would betray your own country?" she said.

"My own country is the Holy Country of Hanna, you bitch."

"I see. I thought you renounced your half-blood status when you joined the state mages."

He gave a twisted guffaw that sounded almost rabid. It echoed around the hall.

"I see. Well, there is no shame in putting down a traitor and a spy." Kommora's voice was arctic. She raised the gun to his forehead. "After this, I'm going to hunt down Pollin myself and wrestle the truth from him."

"Good luck with that. He won't be spilling a single word -- that is, if you can even penetrate the barrier..."

A movement came out of the corner of Kommora's eye. She flinched backwards, turning her gun to the new arrival. Her detection runes hadn't picked up their arrival.

"Get away from him." The toneless voice. Kommora knew it well.

"What are you doing here, Rinoa?" growled Jarsdel.

The ground rumbled. Kommora took several steps back. A flash of fire burst between the two of them, forcing her further back. The place shook. A violet glow seeped across the marble ground, dissolving the debris on the ground. The fire blazed on.

"They need you there, Zor," said Gruger, stepping into the light.

"Oh, no, they don't," said Kommora, firing her gun at Jarsdel. Gruger reacted faster than she expected, thrusting her fingers forward. A slab of marble shot up just before Zor, taking the bullet square into its centre. She splayed her hands at the ground. A slab of marble flew into her hand. She slammed a rune into it and threw it at Kommora, following rapidly with fire burst magic.

The fire was a distraction. Kommora threw two violet runes before her and activated them. They linked together, the light spreading before her like a shield. The fire hit the runed space and dissipated as the magic sucked the oxygen out of the controlled environment. The runed slab of marble soared through, almost hitting Kommora, the violet rune on it alight already. It struck the shelf behind her. The wood bent to the rune's command, reaching out like some many-armed creature and catching her in a death embrace.

The wood pinned her arms against each other. Kommora managed to wrestle out a last piece of paper and sketched another violet rune. The wood squeezed tighter and tighter until it was hard to breathe. Her head pounded, her eyeballs feeling like they were about to pop out of her skull with the pressure.

"How unusual for a king's mage to show such compassion," Kommora said in a hoarse voice and gave a mirthless laugh. Gruger's eyes narrowed in her direction. "I'd have let him die, if I were you. Pathetic specimen of an insect."

Gruger stalked closer, silent hatred on her face.

"He sees you as no more than another pawn in this game, you know that, Gruger?"

Spots danced before Kommora's eyes. Each breath became more laborious as her ribs gave in to the pressure. Her vision darkened to the point where she could just make out Zor Jarsdel hobbling away and Rinoa Gruger moving in for the kill.

Kommora pinned her rune onto the surface behind her with a trembling finger. Gruger's pale blue eyes glittered, raising a hand of flames. Gruger concentrated her magic. Kommora activated the rune.

Magic rippled out of the rune. The bookshelf paused, and then the wood crumbled away as the magic died. Gruger's hand came down, but no magic followed. Her eyes widened, her jaw dropping open.

"What...?" she whispered to herself in astonishment. Kommora wasted no time. Grabbing the nearest chair, she brought it up and smashed Gruger in the chin. Gruger's head snapped back. Her eyes rolled and she crashed onto the ground, stunned.

Kommora leaned on the table, gasping sweet air into her lungs. Her body tingled and head spun. Vision returned at a leisurely pace. She was far too old for these kind of shenanigans. The nullifying rune continued to pulse and she felt her connection with magic severing. It would buy her enough time to incapacitate Gruger and continue, and hopefully she would recover in time to catch up with Pollin. She checked her gun. No use. Of course. Even the runes on it would have been nullified.

She checked Gruger over. Out cold, her grey and white-streaked hair matting with blood. An egg swelled at her chin where Kommora had walloped her. Kommora emptied Gruger's pockets of all the chalk and rune paper, restocking her own. At least that would ensure she stayed out of meddling for a while longer.

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