“I’ll go first,” I say, gathering my glass and getting ready for another trek down the table. Best to test it on myself before I do anything that might result in another Trenevalt-level failure.

“No,” Noli snaps. “We’re in this together. We’ll do it at the same time.”

I don’t like that idea. It’s risky. Maybe dangerous. Is the circle even designed to refresh two spells at once? I guess we were both summoned by a single spell, so it’s plausible, but there’s already so much about what we’re doing that we don’t understand.

I’m about to try to make my point when another thought occurs to me. Echo, Void Check.

[Void: 60%]

Crap. And this spell takes 30 mana. That means I only have enough wiggle room to do it once: a second time will summon the predator. And this spell is already cutting it close. I guess it’s a good thing I caught this now. Well that settles it: We’ll have to go together.

“Okay,” I concede. Then I look over the edge. “But how you go down?”

“Ah.” Noli also looks over the edge. “I guess you’re going to have to help me with that. How about that twine? We can make a pulley and use a counterweight.”

Ugh, more math. But it’s better than any ideas I’ve got. I use my glass to grab some of the twine that was left on the floor and bring it back up to Noli. She sets to work directing me where to anchor my glass and tie all the knots. It only takes ten minutes or so to get everything set up (knots aren’t easy with the hands we’ve got to work with) but I have to stop myself from obsessively checking the mana remaining in Noli’s spell. Every second makes me more anxious than the last.

Luckily, lowering her to the floor goes smoothly. My glass strains against her weight as the twine slips around the series of glass anchors I’d placed, and I use my own weight as the counterbalance to keep her from falling too fast. In a few short moments, however, I hear a soft thump and feel the string go slack. Whew.

I head down next, making the now practiced trek from table, to chair, to floor. It’s getting easier, but no less nerve wracking, knowing one missed step could be all that stands between me and a quick death. Or maybe not: I’ve certainly been leveling up my Fall Damage Resistance these past few weeks. Hooray?

Once on the floor, I help drag Noli over to the circle. We scratch up some of the lines of chalk as we do, and I wince, but there’s not much that can be done. Just have to hope those aren’t important.

As we move into the innermost circle, my spell list updates.

[Spell Circle: Available]

[Target Foci: Available]

[Null Arcanum: Substitution Available]

[30 Mana: Available]

All that’s left is to activate the spell.

“Ready?” Noli asks me.

“No.”

She laughs. “That’s alright. One step at a time, okay? The void first.”

Not that I have to be reminded. Tensing up, I pull the Attuned void from my inventory.

The darkness instantly swirls into the air before us. I reluctantly extend my reach into the void and feel it connect. It’s easier than last time—a thought which brings me no comfort.

I try to focus on the task at hand. If the original spell needed the null arcanum to be in the chalk that sketches out the circle, then perhaps if I layer the void over the chalk, it will achieve the same effect. I try to picture it. The void spreading out, perfectly tracing the circle—

The ink splits into dozens of thin tendrils, swirling around us. I edge a step closer to Noli. It looks just like the predator. One strand drifts my way, and for a moment I’m back in Attiru’s shop, the creature’s mind pressing down on me, the void reaching for me—

Panic spikes through me before I can quell it, and the void splashes to the ground like a cup of spilled water.

“Kanin?” Noli gingerly touches me, and her limb rattles against my glass. Oh, I’m shaking. “Kanin? Are you with me?”

I try to stop trembling. “Yes.”

“Are you okay?”

No. But I stand up straighter, tensing my glass to force it to be still. “I can do it.”

“I know you can,” Noli signs. “I trust you.”

She shouldn’t. Look where that’s gotten her. But it doesn’t matter if her trust is misplaced or not. I have to do this. For her. For both of us.

I try again, picturing the void layering itself over the circle. Drops of the darkness pick themselves up, like rain falling in reverse, and I’m again reminded of the moment in Attiru’s shop. This would be easier if I could close my eyes. If I didn’t have to see it. Instead, I bump up against Noli’s side. The stability is comforting. I focus on that as I direct the void around us.

The tendrils of dark settle to the floor, tracing over the chalk. They creep along the spirals and lines, glinting like streams of blood in the half light. Just watching them respond to my will leaves me feeling nauseous, but I don’t stop. I don’t let my focus slip.

After a minute of the void silently seeping into place, it stops moving. The room is still. The white lines of chalk are now black and glistening. Our spell circle is complete.

“Okay,” Noli signs, and I feel a slight tension go out of her.

Was she scared, too? Has she just been hiding it better than me?

“Are you ready?” she asks.

Echo, I call. Are all requirements met to renew the Core Bond spell?

[Affirmative,] Echo says. [Cost: 30 mana.]

“Ready,” I tell Noli. She grabs one of my pieces of glass and gives it a careful squeeze. I guess this is it. I’m really doing this. I’m about to refresh the very spell that got me into all this trouble in the first place.

With a trill of trepidation, I cast the Core Bond renewal.

The circle comes to life. The lines light up with the same black glow as my magic, that unearthly color of light that seems like it shouldn’t exist. The void vanishes beneath the magic as the color beams into the air, tracing out each curve of our circle.

Noli and I are lit up, too. Something pulls faintly at my soul. Warmth wraps around me. I feel claustrophobic—I’m overwhelmed by an urge to bolt out of the circle—but I use every iota of my willpower to stay standing in place. I can’t let my attention waver. I can’t let this spell fail now. The 30 mana needed to activate it has already been spent, so we’ve only got one shot for it to count.

Then, the light fades. The circle flickers out. Noli and I wait still, silent, as the room lapses into darkness once more.

“Was that it?” Noli asks. “Did it work?”

I Check Noli’s spell. [Mana: 43] I Check mine: It’s the same.

I sag with relief. “It worked.” Not nearly as much as Trenevalt’s though. And if the spell loses 50 mana per day, then that means I’ve only bought us…

“One more day.”

“That’s great!” Noli signs. “Kanin, you did it! You saved us.”

My soul swells with pride. She’s right. I did it. I actually did it.

“That should be plenty of time for Attiru to get back,” Noli continues. “Or, we can always do the spell again.”

And there it is. I might have bought us some time, but not much. Noli’s wrong; I can’t just keep renewing this spell every few days. I Check the Void stat: 90%. If I use this spell again, I’ll summon the predator.

“Can’t,” I sign. “The predator comes with next magic.”

“Oh.” Noli also seems to deflate. “You’re sure?”

“Yes.”

We’re both silent, the victory of the moment boiling away beneath thoughts of the predator.

“What now?” I ask, gesturing to the door. “If they don’t come back?”

“Attiru will definitely be back today,” Noli signs. “But you’re right: We can’t wait. Especially if we’ve really only got one day. Every hour counts!”

And Noli’s here to help me write out a new cheat sheet. If nothing else, we can make it down to the innkeep and plead our case. It’s not much, but it’s a chance. And as long as there’s a chance, we have to keep trying.

Before I can agree, however, the door to our room rattles. There are muted voices outside, raised and tense. A key clicks in the slot, and the knob turns.

The door slams open, and the hulking form of an orc fills the frame.