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"Jervis!" A
"He might be right. Let him go. Let him do what he thinks is right, but don't wait here. That assassin will come back when Sabra's spell wears off. Let's go."
Damon moved ahead and pulled A
When Damon and A
"Did you hear that?' asked A
"It sounded like Jervis," said Damon. "Don't stop." He shoved her forward. A
They were both winded when they finally reached the top of the cliff, but they had renewed urgency since hearing Jervis's scream. They scurried to the great, mechanical door at the base of the tower, tripping over rocks and their own feet. The tower rose up more than fifty feet above them. It looked like an old-fashioned lighthouse. The underside of the balcony that surrounded the top floor extended out from the wall. From the ground up to that balcony the walls looked like blank stone, though the apprentices knew there were plenty of windows. Illusions hid them all.
Damon and A
"What do-" Damon bent over, bracing his hands on his knees. "What do you think happened to Jervis?"
A
"Neither life nor death," began Damon, reciting through his panting the litany that would open the door, "but existence." He paused to catch his breath. "Neither chaos… nor order… but existence." The litany defined how his master's style of magic differed from the other fundamental types of Dominarian magic. The litany was complete, but the door stood impassive.
Damon glanced at A
From over the cliff, they heard the rocks knocked loose, falling down the steep slope. It was the sound of pursuit.
"Oh, great heaven," whispered Damon, and he took A
She stood upright, centered herself for a moment, and spoke the litany. It was as if the litany spoke itself, playing her lungs and mouth the way a musician plays a flute. "Neither life nor death, but existence. Neither chaos nor order, but existence."
With a great commotion of machinery, the iron doors swung up and apart. The two apprentices rushed inside, into the high-ceilinged atrium. The doors clanged shut behind them. Exhausted, they sank to the floor and leaned against the door.
"They won't be able to get in," said A
"But, we've got to prepare, just in case," replied Damon.
The two apprentices split up, trying to prepare for the arrival of the Stromgald assassin, although neither knew what it would take to stop her. A
Meanwhile, Damon looked around the atrium. He closed the wooden shutters on every window and dropped bars into the holds to secure them. Obscured by illusion or not, an open window was a way in. He ran up to the second floor, whose curving, shadowed hallway overlooked the atrium. Here was their kitchen as well as their personal cells, their study rooms, and the sparring room.
He found A
Without looking up, A
A mighty boom reverberated through the atrium. Damon jumped, and A
"We can't fight her golem," said A
"We can hide," returned Damon. "Maybe we can get to the training room. Maybe we can even make it to the top, to Master Wane's chambers. He talks to other wizards far away. Maybe he has a magic glass, something we can use to call him. Maybe he can get here, or just get us out." Like closing the shutters, he suspected it was a futile effort at best.
"The training room," said A
She slipped back into Jervis's room and came out with the fighting staffs. She tossed one to Damon. The booming persisted. Damon followed A
"I don't understand." She was becoming more frustrated every minute. "That's exactly what he does. Exactly! Why won't it open?" She repeated the gestures. The boom sounded again, this time accompanied by the sound of metal straining and giving way.
"What are you thinking?" asked Damon.
"I'm trying to get through the damn door," snapped A
"No," said Damon, putting a calming hand on her shoulder. "What are you thinking while you're doing it?"
"I'm thinking we're both going to die."
"Do the litany. Try it while thinking the door litany. 'Neither life nor death but-'
"I know the damn litany!" yelled A
A
They raced up a narrow flight of stairs which opened into the middle of a curved room lined with racks of scrolls. Near the other end was a row of writing stands where the apprentices practiced their letters and sigils.
Against the wall was a wide, low chest tucked under a window. To the right was the door to Master Wane's chambers. As the Master had made clear many times, only a wizard could open that door. Near was a black curtain, with the mirror behind it. Momentarily, Damon longed to gaze into that mirror and forget everything that had happened today.