Mind of the Magic (Arhel Book 3) by Holly Lisle Page B

enormous in both size and strength. Faia stared over the bluff, trying to measure its spread; she realized it covered half the city that she could see, including all the areas where her friends lived and worked. The light was the source of the surging, prickling energy she’d sensed.
    She remembered the way that pillar of light had rippled when she and Nokar, Medwind, and Roba had attacked Thirk with magic, and remembered as well that it had billowed out like a curtain blown by an invisible breeze when it swallowed Thirk at the end. The light had spread a short time after it swallowed Thirk, but then it had stopped, its boundaries larger but seemingly stable.
    Evidently those boundaries hadn’t been stable at all. Now the light spread to encompass much of the lower city, including the places where Medwind and Kirgen and Roba lived and worked. Her grip tightened on her staff.
    Now perhaps I know why I haven’t heard anything from anyone here in the past few months. Faia clutched Kirtha tight and stared down into that beautiful, frightening light.
    I’m stronger, she thought—but so is that. Damn Delmuirie! How in all the heavens am I going to get through that?
    She turned to Witte. “That light shouldn’t be there!” she shouted over the wind. “That’s what surrounded Delmuirie—”
    “The cage of light?!” Witte interrupted. He stared down over the cliff at the unmoving sheet of light. “But I thought you told me it was a little pillar of light beneath the library! That’s enormous.”
    Faia nodded. Strands of her hair, blown loose from her braid, whipped into her face and clung, damp with snow. She brushed them back—a futile gesture, for the wind never slackened—and shouted, “We can’t go down there. If you move into that, it swallows you and freezes you. We’d never get out. We’re going to have to find shelter though! We can’t stay out here.”
    She started toward one of the few intact First Folk domes that remained on their level of the city, up above the encroaching wall of Delmuirie’s magic. Witte, though, tugged at the leg of her breeches and pointed toward the side of the mountain that backed them. “In there!” he yelled. “Cave will be warmer than one of those stone domes!”
    She nodded and followed him. It was then that she realized she didn’t have her big pack. She’d slung it over one shoulder when she left Omwimmee Trade… but it wasn’t on her shoulder anymore. She looked around the plateau, and still didn’t see it.
    “Witte! My pack isn’t here! What happened to it?”
    Witte looked around, his face both puzzled and worried. “I don’t know. I thought my magic was strong enough to transport all of us and our belongings here, but maybe it wasn’t. The transport spell will drop inanimate things before animate ones—that’s a safety feature. It might have gone over my mass limit!” He turned and headed for the tunnels, leaning into the wind.
    An especially vicious gust, screaming down through the mountain pass, hit Faia broadside as she turned, and she staggered. She scooped Kirtha into her arms and hurried after Witte.
    Into the tunnels, she thought. She knew they weren’t caves—they were the labyrinthine lairs of the long-extinct First Folk. They wandered down through the mountains, their long, uncharted passageways honeycombing the whole of the ancient ruins. Into the tunnels—and perhaps she could find a way
through
those tunnels, using magic and intelligence. Or perhaps not. Perhaps there was no way through. None of the scholars had gone more than a few rooms into the maze in any direction or from any opening. No one knew how the rooms linked or where the tunnels led.
    The wind cut instantly as she ran into the opening after Witte. The dark of outdoors did not begin to compare to that of the lightless tunnel. Faia stopped. She could make out none of the details of her surroundings—her eyes refused to adjust. She stood still and held them closed a moment,