The several days, Bernt focused as best he could on w his way through Iria’s books. He made sure to visit Pollock as often as he could, refining ideas for potential experiments. After work, he went to visit the library to study and che on Haln. The librarian had mao find quite a bit of information on pnar theory – they just hadn’t mao figure out how to apply it yet. None of the texts talked about ambient mana, much less anything like a mana bridge or tether that might transmit a familiar boween pnes. Still, Bernt was sure they were on the right track. There had to be something there.

  Despite the ck of useful results, Ber like things were ing together, somehow. At least, until he left the guild to go home eaight. Whenever he stepped into the street, Bernt found himself looking over his shoulder and jumping at shadows. He kept a light burning over his shoulder at all times when he wasn’t behind the guild’s wards. Passersby were starting to give him odd looks. Bernt ofte like he was being watched, especially every time he walked through the ruined Crafters’ District.

  He knew he was being paranoid. Mostly. Maybe. Someone probably was watg him. He had no reason to believe that shade wasn’t still around, even if it couldn’t actually kill him. It could certainly cause this kind of psychological rea – that was what the shades had been doing during the siege, after all. Unfortunately, being aware of the problem didn’t lessen the symptoms. The question was why. And was the demon following him personally, or was it just terrorizing the Crafters’ Quarter?

  Bernt was still sidering the problem when he opened his front door to find two letters that had been pushed under his door. He closed it, hung a few torch spells up he ceiling to light the house brightly a down to pick up the letters. One was just a folded piece of paper, while the other was written on heavy cardsto a fanvelope. It looked very official, with a mana-infused seal and everything. The mana signature wouldn't mean anything to Bernt, but it could be pared tistry at the guild to verify its source. Probably Iria herself, now that he sidered it. She was the court mage, after all.

  Taking a deep breath, Bernt opehe expensive envelope, first.

  Underkeeper Bernard,

  You are hereby summoo appear before the t, Narald of Halfbridge on Eyelsday , one hour before noon…

  The letter didn’t actually mention why he was being summoned, but he could guess. Iria wouldn’t have goo such lengths preparing him if she wasn’t sure that the t would follow through. This was going to be his formal appoi as Torvald’s legitimator.

  The letter went on about appropriate attire and proper forms of address, which Bernt, ironically, had just learned all about from Iria’s books. By the looks of it, there was going to be quite a ceremony. He was going to need a more formal mage’s robe to be preseo the court.

  Bernt had been meaning to visit a tailor for some time, but he hadn’t mao get around to it so far. Now, he was running out of time. Eyelsday was in just three days, so there wasn't nearly enough time for a job. He'd have to shop around to find what he needed on hand somewhere. He wanted something he could take to the Sacral Peaks, so he o see about getting it properly ented as well – but that could wait until after the ceremony. For now, he just needed something that would make a better impression than basiderkeepers' gear.

  Still, he would have to talk to Grixit, soon. It was going to be a tricky project. The robe o provide proper prote, but the entments had to be id on the garment in a way that didn’t risk setting him on fire the first time he cast his manaburn spell. The shaman would figure something out, he was sure.

  The seessage was from Farrin, at the orphanage. She wao know if and when he nning to start teag again. He’d only visited once sihe battle, and it had just been to che Gnugg and Trip. The kobold had been out, but Trip said he was doing fine. She’d be at the Mages’ Academy now – her first wierm would have just started.

  Bernt sighed and tossed the note down on his table. He was just too busy. The orphanage would have to find a utor. Beside his official studies for Iria and his personal projects, the tide ees had only surged since Uriah had arrived. Nearly a thousand people streamed into the Uy every day. The pce would be full in a few more days, even if things slowed down. Most nights, he stopped for an hour or two to help guide the florocess a few of them, trying to ease the pressure on his colleagues.

  That, and he felt guilty.

  Sure, Fiora had traded him for more support from City Maintenance, which gave her more of her own people to work on the refugees. It was a gain for the Underkeepers. But still – he spent his days hiding away in a library and reading for his own personal be while colleg his normal sary. Meanwhile, his friends had to work their asses off trying tle desperate and traumatized people into temporary aodations here every day. No matter how the math worked out, it felt like he was doing something wrong.

  ***

  When he arrived at his new office the m, Bernt found a few additional books waiting on his desk, probably courtesy of Iria. They doted the history of the sed and third Great Clysmic Wars. Both texts were painfully dry, painstakingly detailing the Invigition’s campaigns to permaly break the back of the Circle of er the fall of the Madurian Empire, which ultimately left the hated warlock cult fio the Isle of Harrowick. Their anization nguished there in a dimiate until their destru in a summoning gone s that the isnd was still uninhabited over a hundred years ter.

  After another lunch with Iria, where she grilled him about the potential political significe of various obscure details buried in those texts, Bernt made his way down to the library. By now, he and Haln had read everything there was about pnar theory, but that didn’t mean they uood it. They needed fresh eyes to look over the problem and all the information – someone who thought outside the box.

  His first impulse had been to talk to Pollock. The old wizard was a genius, and even if he wasn’t an expert on pnar theory, he would surely uand the literature better tha. Oher hand, though, he’d already told too many people about his persistent familiar bond.

  Pollock fually sidered Jori a resourot a person, a doubted he was going to vince him otherwise. That, and he worked for the guild, and for Iria. Iria, for her part, would absolutely try to use any e she could make to further her own aims, and very possibly to Jori’s detriment. She was already trying to make him into a tool for the guild, and that was fio a point, but there were limits. If at all possible, he wao keep this quiet.

  Fortunately, Bernt could think of ane who had a fir for creative applications of magic. Sure, he wasn't much of a researcher, but he had a stelr education and a knack for using spells in unventional ways.

  Whe arrived, Haln took him straight back to the reading room they usually used. Therion was already there, sing through Haln’s meticulously anized notes.

  “Hey Bernt,” the e greeted him, not looking up. “Did y your notes? Haln says he didn’t cover everything.”

  “Yeah. Of course,” Bernt said, digging through his bag to find the rumpled stack of papers that he’d jammed into his book on familiar bonds. He held them out to Therion, ted them with a disgusted shake of his head.

  “How are you a wizard? My little sister is more ahan you! How do you even figure anything out?”

  Bernt shrugged. “I don’t know. Usually I just keep colleg information until something clicks. It’s not w this time, though. There’s nothing about ambient mana anywhere.” He ched his teeth and made a frustrated noise. “How I amplify a familiar bond that goes outside the material pne if I ’t even figure out how it’s being transmitted?”

  Therion shrugged without answering and started to flip through Bernt’s notes, anizing them as he went. As he read, Bernt busied himself with Haln’s notes, going over them again. Haln, meanwhile, returo work.

  Only a few mier, Bernt tossed the stack down oable in disgust. Therion looked up at the noise and raised an eyebrow iion.

  “It just doesn’t make any sense,” Bernt pined. “Did none of these people know how mana ects the various pnes, or did they just think it didn’t matter?”

  Therion shrugged and dug out one of Haln’s note papers, gng over it again.

  “I don’t know. Maybe it doesn’t. What if Janaris’ theory here is right and the pnes actually sort of occupy the same material space, so we’re actually all using the same ambient mana, projected interdimensionally?”

  Bernt snorted. “Then the ambient mana would stantly be moving around or thinning in respoo whatever was going on on other pnes. It’s way too predictable for that to be true.”

  “Well, okay. question,” Therion replied, tossing the paper down. “Does it actually matter?”

  Bernt frow his friend in fusion. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, we know the familiar bond is w across pnes. Do we really o know how it works? Maybe the eerdimensional medium is mana. Or maybe there’s no such thing as real distan the same way as it is here. We don’t really o find your hypothesized mana bridge or whatever. If the problem were about supposed ‘distance’ betweehen amplifying the signal the way you already did should have helped. So, what if we could clear the way a bit, instead? It would be the most obvious thing to try, right?”

  Notig Bernt’s fused expression, Therion flipped over one of the note sheets and produced a pen. As Bernt watched, the mage scribbled two stick figures in separate circles, ected by a line.

  “Alright, think about it like this. You’ve got two people, you and Jori, on two separate pnes. We know that the pnes aren’t toug, sihere aren’t any known fluences. At least nothing like with the elemental pnes."

  Bernt nodded nonittally. “Right, I know. But that doesn’t really help us. ‘Clearing the way’, as you said, would mean removing the barrier between here and the third hell. But that would be a portal. We ’t do that, since, as you said, we’re not actually toug on the hells. If that tion, I wouldn’t be doing this in the first pce.”

  “Right. We ’t make a portal to the hells,” Therion said, grinning. “But what if, instead, we just make a portal to nowhere? ”

  Bernt opened his mouth to scoff at his friend, but then closed it again as he thought about it.

  If Therion was right, there wasn’t one barrier between him and Jori, there were two – the one separating the material realm from the interpnar medium, and another separating this non-pce from the third hell. If they were the problem, then eveing past one of them should work. Well, it might not work perfectly, but it should do something, right?

  Excitedly, Bernt opened his bag of holding and dug around in it until his hands closed around a tall, narrow book. He pulled it out and showed it to Therion, who peered at the title in fusion.

  “A Summuide to Elementals?”

  “It expins how to create and stabilize portals at fluence points.” Bernt said, flipping to the se about portal formation. “Think about it. Elemental summoning is far more plicated than what you’re suggesting. I’m not totally familiar with all of these runes here, but if we decipher them properly, it should be easy to simplify this down to something that'll just cut a way out of our pne without opening up to make a path to somewhere else. That's what you meant, right?”

  Therion rose, eyes alight with Pollock-like excitement. “I’ll go get Haln.”