At last, the concluding paragraph jumped up and formed a ball that flew around within the tintinnabulum cage. Each time it struck a textual wall, the ball silently deconstructed a rune segment. The spell’s cage could withstand the ball for one hour; after that, the ball would break free and ring the bell.

Nicodemus inserted the spell into the bell’s mouth, set the device on the bedside table, and fell back onto the feather bed.

He felt his head meet the pillow; he felt his breathing slow; he felt his legs jerk as they sometimes did before sleep. But he did not feel as if he were falling asleep. He felt as if he were… spinning?

A scrub jay cried.

Nicodemus opened his eyes and found himself lying in a meadow outside Starhaven. He recognized the place as “the glen”-a clearing where students went to drink lifted wine or to lock lips.

Here he had kissed Amy Hern for the first time. That had been years ago.

It had been a quiet evening after a brief snow shower. Their every footstep had produced a crunch, their every breath a plume of feathery vapor. Above them the sky glowed a solemn winter lavender that painted all the branches purest black. Her lips felt chapped against his lips; her tongue, hot against his tongue. They had been only acolytes.

Remembering Amy, Nicodemus winced. She was no longer Amy Hern but Magistra Amaryllis Hern-a lesser wizard in Starfall Keep. He had not seen her since her departure four years ago. Nor had he received any reply to his messages other than an impersonal note about her new life in Starfall.

In a lucid moment, Nicodemus realized that he was dreaming. He sat up expecting to wake on Shannon’s feather bed, but instead sat up in the glen.

A neophyte stood to his right. The boy had his back turned and was looking toward the aspen trees.

Something large was moving among the pale trunks. Its footfalls sent vibrations through the ground. Its breath was long, slow, bestial.

Nicodemus tried to stand but his legs were clumsy. He felt intoxicated.

The creature stepped out from the trees. Nicodemus tried to look at it but his eyes would not focus on it. The thing’s body billowed up into a mass of blurry pallid flesh. Again he struggled to stand but only fell forward. He tried to look up at the creature but again could not focus on it.

The neophyte turned to run. Drunkenly, Nicodemus got onto his knees. Just then a thin rod of flesh exploded from the monster. It shot across the clearing to impale the boy’s lower back. The child kept running.

Nicodemus tried to cry out but fell forward. Dirt filled his eyes. With clumsy hands, he cleared his vision.

Then he was no longer in the glen. He was in an underground cavern.

The ceiling glinted with quartz. The floor shone uniformly gray. Before him stood a black stone table with a body atop it. A pale cloak covered the figure. In its gloved hands lay a small gem that glowed green. The stone was lacriform-tear-shaped.

Something twitched at the light’s edge. It was a small creature. Its oily blue back was sleek and armored with hexagonal plates-a nightmarish land turtle. It hissed as it stumped forward. Dark tendrils sprouted from the creature’s footsteps and grew into ivy vines with unctuous black leaves.

A lance of red light dropped from the ceiling to strike the turtle’s back. With a crack, the beast’s shell shattered. It screamed as blue oil flowed out of its broken shell. A second turtle materialized and then a third.

As the turtles approached, they trailed wakes of burgeoning black ivy vines. More and more turtles came in from the blackness. Another lance of red light shattered the hexagonal plates on a creature’s back. There came two more blasts of light, then ten more.

On the table, the body still lay covered by a white cloak. Then a wind whipped through the cavern and tossed back the figure’s white hood.

The face revealed was Nicodemus’s own. For a dizzying instant Nicodemus was not just himself but also the figure lying on the table. He was also the turtles crawling on the floor and a terrified neophyte running through the woods back to Starhaven.

As the figure on the table, he sat up. His cheeks bulged and his lips parted to loose a deafening metallic clanging. A tiny ball was flying around inside his mouth.

Suddenly Nicodemus woke in Shannon’s feather bed. He had escaped the nightmare and was staring straight at the vibrating hour bell crying out its earsplitting alarm.

When Shannon returned to his study, he found Amadi ransacking the place with three of her Northern sentinels. Shannon recognized the first-a slender male Ixonian-as Kale, Amadi’s personal secretary. The other two were the fools she had sent to follow him.

Upon seeing him, the strangers began forging censor spells-enmeshing texts that could wrap around his head and prevent him from spellwriting.

Shannon, ignoring them, walked behind his desk and set Azure on his chair. He removed several walnuts from a jar on a bookshelf. “I believe an explanation is due,” he said mildly.

Amadi answered tensely: “Magister, you deliberately deceived the sentinels I sent to guard you.”

Shannon offered a walnut to Azure’s outstretched foot. “I was being guarded? I didn’t notice. Your sentinels must write excellent subtexts. I wonder how they lost me.” He smiled at the two sentinels who had been following him.

They made a comical pair. One was tall and fat with golden buttons on his sleeve. The other was short and thin with silver buttons.

Azure cracked the walnut in her beak and picked out the meat.

Amadi looked at the short sentinel. “In the Marfil Tower,” the man blurted. “He went into a privy and then wrote a text to climb to a bridge above.”

Shannon laughed and accepted Azure’s empty walnut shells. “You flatter me, Magister, to claim I’m capable of such a feat at my age.” He laughed again. “In fact, I left the privy by the balcony so that I could question the gargoyle that empties the latrine. Surely your companion watching the balcony saw me.” He raised his eyebrows at the fat sentinel.

The man looked away.

“Oh, how embarrassing,” Shannon said through a half-smile. “You didn’t consider that the privy might have more than one exit. Well, no matter; you may question the balcony gargoyle. It will recall our conversation.” He handed Azure another walnut. “I examined other gargoyles afterward.” He listed them.

Amadi eyed her underlings. “Go and verify what Magister says.”

With a commotion of bobbing heads, the two hurried from the study.

“And Kale,” Amadi said to her secretary, “you may deliver those messages now. Interrupt me only with urgent news.”

The young Ixonian nodded and left, closing the door behind him.

Amadi, pushing a dreadlock from her face, turned back to Shannon. “Magister, I thought we had an understanding. I am trying to prove your innocence.”

“Amadi, I simply did not know I was being… guarded, as you put it.”

“Magister, I’m not a child anymore.” A hint of pain sounded in her otherwise controlled voice. “You knew you were being watched.”

“Amadi, I don’t-”

“Very well.” Her tone was testy. “So there will be no future misunderstandings, I tell you now that we’ve placed a watch on your quarters above the Bolide Gardens. We did this after following Nicodemus there. We did not disturb his sleep, but after he left my authors searched the place, taking care not to disturb anything. If you persist in this suspicious behavior, we will have to search it more thoroughly.” She paused for effect. “Also we have written robust wards on the doors and windows.”

Shannon raised an eyebrow.

“No author or text will be able to enter or leave your quarters without disspelling a ward. I would advise against such an action; anyone attempting to sneak in or out of your quarters will be cut in two at the waist. Of course, the sentinels watching your quarters will disarm the wards when you enter or leave.”