Wearily, Kisea looked around at the setting that was already fading as her mind stopped trying to visualize anything.

Matt. I need to make sure Matt is safe.

She pulled her attention back into her own body, wishing for time to rest and catch her breath, and opened her eyes.

Honora was protecting a tight cluster still—Doria had been included in it somehow as well, and the second limp body, next to the unconscious possibly-mer sorcerer, looked like telekinetic Idella. The sorcerer Baldwin who had been fighting Idella was now closer to the three fallen telepaths, all his attention on them. For good reason, because the telepathic battle would have ended in universal casualties without protection from the sorcerous battle. Too many attacks, many of them with lingering effects, and Matt no longer had the luxury of dispelling each when he was doing well just to keep himself and her safe from rapid-fire and highly-varied spells. Ice coated walls and furniture here and there; other places showed scorch-marks and scars that made her think the target had partly liquefied and melted, and some looked like they'd been struck with immense force, stone chipped and fractured, wood fragmented. Several patches glowed with luminous dust or ooze of varied colours and qualities.

Despite that, the Speaker had already abandoned her sanctuary to work her way around the tier towards the fallen telepaths. Kisea held her breath, hoping she'd make it. Etanynne ducked out of the path of a yellowish streak of light that glanced off an invisible obstacle uncomfortably close to her and into the wall above her, leaving a melted and bubbling welt, but she kept going. Once she reached the telepaths, Kisea let herself breathe. Baldwin could shield her there.

Which still left Matt alone against two. A single Sixth-level sorcerer against two First-level sorcerers should have been insane; even Ursula and Melienne had only been Fifth and Fourth.

But since when did Matt or his gift pay any attention to what should be possible?

“Done,” she said quietly.

“I saw them go down,” he said without turning to look at her, a bit breathlessly, but nothing suggested real distress. “This is turning out harder than I expected. They know some really nasty tricks.”

Given what that streak of light would probably have done to a person instead of a wall, she couldn't even remotely imagine Matt being willing to use, or even learn, such a thing.

“I got one good shot in on her and she's weakening, like blood loss. So I think...” He broke off, and pale light shimmered into a wide oval disc in front of his raised hands; something gooey with a lot of flailing tendrils smacked into it, and he wrapped the pale light around it and heaved it over their heads backwards into the vacant spectator area. “Don't even want to know what that...” He yelped, dropped to his knees and pulled her down with him, shielding her with his own body while the other hand made a sweeping gesture of warding. She could feel the tension of every muscle as he fought to hold off whatever-it-was; she dared not move, since that might be the minuscule distraction that made all the difference. What she should be doing was trying to get to Honora or join Etanynne, let one of the other sorcerers shield her so Matt could focus on the duel instead of trying to keep her safe. From there, well, she was tired but sorcerers had fewer defences against her than telepaths did, as Melienne had demonstrated previously, and if she could make sure one of them was out of the fight, Matt could finish the other, she was sure.

“Felt that. Stay.” The strain was audible in every word.

“That's stupid,” she hissed.

“Trust me.” He met her eyes, gave her a quick smile and a quicker kiss, and twisted in place so he could face the attack more directly.

No time to explain didn't mean there was no reason.

She drew her knees against her chest and wrapped her arms around them, scrunching herself into the smallest target she could. Even from here, she could still...

He was close enough against her that she felt the physical shudder run through him the same instant her inner senses picked up the flash of searing pain that ran from his fingertips up towards his shoulder, spreading swiftly.

She abandoned her preliminary testing of the two sorcerers' defences, reached through the familiar connection, and seized hold of the pain, shunting it away from his conscious mind.

Still linked to him, she knew as soon as he did that his opponents knew they'd landed a blow and expected an opening, and that they were pressing the attack hard.

To Matt's extended senses, the other sorcerers in the room glowed with brilliant and vividly-coloured auras. The inner hues were harder to make out, swirling together and overlapping, but the outermost of each was a wide clear band. Honora's was a dazzling blue, deeper than the sky, and Baldwin's a more greenish blue; the collapsed sorcerer was violet but it was narrow and much less bright. Gossethien's was pure yellow, and Parvynne's was orange. The light around Matt himself, though, was radiant white. There was probably some kind of important information in that, if she had any idea what it meant.

Both opponents, believing him vulnerable, were pouring immense power into their separate attacks. The air around them pressed inward, squeezing with steadily increasing force, turning every breath into a battle; at the same time, it was warming even more rapidly, passing the hottest day she'd ever experienced at the College and still climbing.

She could feel the strain as he fought the multiple distractions, both physical discomfort and apprehension, to twist power into what he needed. The convulsive magical effort was mirrored in a physical spasm, as he did the equivalent of digging his fingernails into the middle of the smothering mass and tearing a hole immediately around them. That eased the pressure and heat, but left them with air too thin to breathe, and only growing more so as Matt forced it back, making the bubble around them larger.

“Goss, Parvynne, stop!” Honora cried. “That's a dangerous combination even if it implodes, and when Matt breaks it...”

“When?” Gossethien said contemptuously. “Don't be...”

“Idiots! Baldwin, you need stronger shields! Kisea, if you can, warn anyone in range outside! Doria, you too!”

Dizzy though she was from scant air and excessive heat, the alarm in Honora's voice still reached Kisea. Unsure what she was warning them about, she reached outwards, flinging a wordless sense of impending danger at everyone she could readily make contact with.

Something for which she had no name shattered around them, giving her a fleeting impression of pottery flung with wall-shaking force in all directions at once, and cool air rushed in to fill the space around them, wind surging through an opened door. Someone shrieked, and she heard a sustained crash that reminded her of thunder, but the only thing that mattered right now was being able to breathe. She took a couple of shallow, gasping breaths, then forced herself to take slower and deeper ones; beside her, she could hear and feel Matt panting hard.

It took a moment for it to sink in that no one was attacking them.

She raised her head, looked around.

Honora and Baldwin and their respective groups looked intact, though to Matt's senses, Honora was now haloed by a much more greenish shade of blue and Baldwin's was emphatically green edging towards yellow.

Parvynne was lying on the floor, outlined in red, and it was only thin and not very bright.

Gossethien was on his knees, his aura showing orange, and deepening as she watched towards dull red.

Every wooden object was, at best, scorched black; much of it was only splintered and burned wreckage. The light pouring down was neither sorcery nor firelight, but sunlight: most of the slate-shingled roof was missing, and directly ahead, all the stone blocks in one corner had collapsed outward, leaving a massive V-shaped gap.

Oh gods!

She reached frantically for Kian and Shon, found them both safe, but before she could make a proper connection, Lord Jordan stepped in and seized the other side.

*No one is badly hurt, thanks to your warning. If Matt is able to, would you tell him to remove the seal on the doors?* She could feel anger from him, but had no idea what the target was; in her experience, anger was frequently at her, but she was too tired for that to feel as worrying as it probably should.

*He was trying to keep everyone else safe,* she said, a bit fuzzily. *It's over. I think.* She tried to say Matt's name out loud, found her throat painfully dry, and coughed. *Matt, open the doors.*

*Doors. Right.* He sounded as dazed as she felt, but she sensed the mental shift of him shaping power. Shakily, he got to his feet, offered her a hand up.

Etanynne pushed them both down to sit on the bench, which was somehow relatively unscathed, maybe because it was so close to them. “Stay there, let me see what I can do. Gods, the injuries if there'd been anyone present unshielded...” She looked over her shoulder. “Olisai! Come help me!”

Kisea held meekly still while Etanynne ran sure light hands from her head down her torso and along each limb. Instinctively, she groped for Matt's hand, holding it tight. They were both still alive. His family were safe. So everything would be all right—at least, for them. Wouldn't it?

“Nothing too bad, I'll have everything fixed but the tiredness in no time,” the lifewitch said reassuringly. “Olisai?”

“Some nerve damage, right arm,” Olisai said. “I wish someone would ban that spell. Reversible but only by us. The beginnings of heat exhaustion and asphyxiation both?”

“Yes,” Etanynne said. “Do what you can fast before all that magic use catches up, because it's probably not going to be over quickly or easily this time.”

“I can help,” Kisea said hoarsely, and coughed again, painfully. “I'm not so bad.”

“You just fought three telepaths alone.”

“They wanted me to win. Wanted me to kill them or wipe their minds. I didn't hurt them.”

“I know,” Etanynne said gently, and sighed. “This whole situation is a horrible one.”

“I'm sorry.”

“What for?” Olisai asked.

“It's all my fault. If I'd just kept running...”

“Then more students would die,” Etanynne said. “And the spirits of Assembly members would continue to be warped into murderers of children. Healing sometimes hurts. Now, close your eyes and try to lower as many shields as you can so I don't need to work around them, please. No reaching to Matt just yet, or you'll interfere with Olisai and I.”

Kisea obeyed, though every nerve itched to check on Matt and get ready to hold off what would surely be the worst she'd seen yet. She could feel him shivering against her, though, the chill setting in, and figured it was a given that his sight was already gone.

“Out of time,” Olisai said.

“Floor's safer,” Etanynne said, letting her hands drop. “It's harder to fall off.”

Honora handed Etanynne an opalescent white cloak folded into a makeshift cushion, which the lifewitch tucked underneath Kisea so her bottom came down on it and not the bare stone as she slithered to the floor. The two lifewitches helped steady Matt as he moved forward to kneel, then curled up with his head on Kisea's lap.

Honora tucked over him not only another white cloak but a golden one that shimmered green as well, and wrapped a second golden one around Kisea.

“Look after Matt,” the sorceress said. “We'll take care of everything else. I imagine this will be bad, since much of it would have been outright impossible for anyone else.”

Kisea nodded, stroking Matt's hair reassuringly as he grabbed for her hand. *I'm right here. I always will be.*