“Professor?”

 

Aithne shook her head at the mess on the table as she sorted the books. Things had changed so much in her time at the College, but students leaving their study material all over the place was one thing that remained…

 

“Professor!”

 

The insistent voice stopped Aithne’s thoughts in their tracks and she blinked and turned. Two students, both fourth-years, stood at the side of the table, watching her.

 

“Oh! Um. Sorry!” Aithne gave herself a little shake. Three months into her new job and she still had not become used to being called Professor. She cleared her throat. “How can I…”

 

“Stop pestering Professor gro-Shub!”

 

Aithne winced as Merks appeared from around a bookshelf and stormed at the students. “Merks…”

 

“She is far too important for your stupid questions!”

 

Aithne shook her head. “I was just sorting bo…”

 

The girl on the left squeaked and said, “We’re sorry!” The boy on the right looked like he might faint.

 

“It’s fine.” And, as Merks began to speak again, “Merks, stop. Students can ask questions. It’s part of my job.”

 

He shook his head – whatever religious fervor had reversed his opinion of her had not done anything for his abrasive personality. “My Lady, this is beneath you. I’ll handle it. Well? Out with it! What’s your stupid question?”

 

The two looked terrified but the girl managed to squeak out, “We…we weren’t sure what this meant.” She pointed with a hesitant hand to a passage in her book. Merks glanced at it and snorted.

 

“It means you can’t use omni-partition catalysts for single-dimensional arrays.”

 

“Um…”

 

An exasperated sigh. “It means a catalyst that can be used for multiple things will not work if you try to associate it with an array that can only handle one. It’s confusing because ‘single-dimensional’ and ‘array’ are contradictory terms. That dumbass Wiba called them that three centuries ago and now we’re stuck with it. It’s pretty simple, though. Think about it this way: what would happen if you tried to connect twelve hoses of continually running water to a single hose?”

 

The two looked at each other and, at last, the boy found his voice. “They would…get backed up? Because one hose couldn’t handle all the water from all those other hoses?”

 

“Exactly. Eventually something would burst. Probably around the connection between the hoses to the single hose. Now picture that happening, except it’s mana.”

 

A pause and then both students’ eyes went wide at the same time.

 

“That would…” said the boy.

 

“Boom!” added the girl.

 

“Yes. Now go read Shelinng chapter 4 again.” At their groans, he made an impatient gesture. “Make sure you actually understand it this time.”

 

They nodded, though their expressions were glum, and plodded off.

 

Aithne shook her head. “That was well explained. You could have been nicer about it, though.”

 

Merks shrugged. “You need to be tough with the young students. It’s what makes them respect you. Your husband was the perfect example of…” he stopped at her wince. “I apologize, My Lady. I did not mean to bring you pain.”

 

Aithne shook her head again. “It’s fine. The pain of losing him will never completely go away, of course, but I can’t very well force people not to talk about him in my presence. He was a great man and deserves to be talked about.”

 

Merks flushed and his head dropped a little but before he could respond, the sound of bells rang throughout the building. Aithne and Merks exchanged a startled glance.

 

Aithne was already half turned as she said, “Get to the roof. I need to grab the staff.”

 

“Yes, My Lady.”

 

*********************

 

Foreboding clouds covered the sky, making it hard to see the approaching dragons, who seemed to blend into the roiling mass of blacks and greys. They attacked in patterned groups this time, instead of the random chaos of the previous attempt. Aithne wondered how many of them had been involved in the last attack as, just as Delphine had said, every dead dragon had come back to life and flown away, singly or in groups, a few days after their deaths.

 

As before, Aithne used the staff to Funnel as much of the dragon breath that she could reach. This time she was joined not just by J’zargo, but also Onmund, Brelyna, and Merks, as well as Archmage Ervine and most of the professors. Together, they formed a ring around the circumference of the Observation platform and either Funneled dragon breath or cast binding spells to try to get dragons to fall to the ground, where students and people from the town waited to pounce with spells and weapons, a tactic they had all spent the last few months practicing together.

 

It was slow going - the dragons kept their distance, wheeling in long loops between the College and the mainland, only occasionally swooping low to attack someone or something. After some time, this began to worry Aithne. They didn’t seem to be trying to engage anyone directly. It was more as if…

 

“It’s a diversion!” The low booming of the surf far below as it crashed against the pillar of stone upon which the College rested made it hard to hear, so she shouted the words.

 

Her friends (and whatever the hell Merks was) looked at her, then J’zargo glanced around and yelled back, “A diversion from what?”

 

“I don’t know!” Aithne scanned the sky in all directions but nothing seemed amiss. Well, more amiss than the continual barrage of dragons. Another boom, and Aithne spared a glance at the ocean, expecting angry swells to match the heavy pounding of the surf. She found it a strange incongruence to see the sea was not noticeably angrier than usual, despite the stormy sky.

 

Brelyna began, “What should we…” but she didn’t get a chance finish - Aithne swore and, without thinking, jumped off the platform.

 

She turned as the cast Flight and, just as her fall slowed and she gained control of her movements, she saw them – a dozen dragons ripped at the base of the pillar, tearing out chunks of stone. Aithne shouted and laid down a wall of fire, engulfing several of the dragons, who roared and pushed off the stone, into the air.

 

From there, the fight became perilous. While she was in no danger from their breath attacks, thanks to the staff, she was no match for them when it came to speed or midair maneuvering. She dove for the pillar, dodging claws and teeth as best she could, and at last hit the ground harder than she meant.

 

Mental alarms rang in her head and she struggled to regain her feet, expecting to feel sharp teeth digging into her any second, but it took her several moments to get her breath back enough to move. When she finally pushed herself up, pain seemed to pounce - she found she bore several scrapes and bruises, and a claw had scored a deep gouge down her back. The top of her robe flapped and bunched, impeding her movement, so she impatiently shrugged her arms out of her sleeves, letting the top portion of the robe flap down around her waist, while the lower half remained cinched in place by her belt.

 

A glance upward explained why the dragons had not finished her off – several figures flew through the air over the sea, blasting away at the dragons as they dove, spun, and/or rose. Even as she watched, two of the dragons crumpled and fell into the surf. Aithne shook her head and laughed – clearly her friends (and probably Merks) had joined her. She took a breath and resumed her own attack.

 

The others joined her one by one as they were able to slip through the dragons to the relative safety of the pillar, where, at the very least, they did not have to worry about attacks from behind. They were able to hold their own, although once the dragons discovered their breath attacks were only going to get redirected back at them, they stopped using them. The physical attacks were much harder to contain, especially since the small section of the pillar they stood on (really just the bottom portion of the gouge the dragons had so far managed to dig out) left very little room for dodging.

 

Over time Aithne was too busy to count, they were able to whittle away at the attacking dragons with a little luck, a little ingenuity, and a very large number of Binding spells. Just as the sixth dragon fell, unable to fly because of the giant hole Merks had shot through its wing, a resounding BOOM shook the ground and they fell to their knees. The staff flew from Aithne’s hands and she scrambled after it, grabbing it just before it slid over the edge, then froze as she saw several figures rushing past.

 

People. A lot of them, along with a several giant segments of jagged stone, fell past their position and, a heartbeat later, crashed into the sea. At the same time, as if hearing something Aithne could not, the attacking dragons wheeled to the west and flew away.

 

After a moment of stunned chaotic silence, the five of them yelled conflicting things and dove off the ledge.

 

Aithne’s first instinct was to dive for the ocean to see who all had fallen and if any were still alive, but she realized as she dove that it was a fruitless enterprise – had the people been conscious, they would have kept themselves from falling. They had either already been dead or had died on impact – either theirs with the water, or the massive stones with them. So she adjusted her course toward the top of the College, joining Merks and J’zargo while Onmund and Brelyna continued downward.

 

The top of the building was…well, gone. Only a small section of the observation deck remained; a stubborn jagged portion, about the length and width of a horker, clung to the small portion of remaining wall like a barnacle. The rest had either been blown into the sea along with the wall or was nestled like crumbled breadcrumbs on the floor of what had been the top floor of the tower.

 

The wreckage was littered with bodies and it did not take long to learn whose.

 

Archmage Ervine was the first they found, half her head caved in by a massive stone. Soon after, the others were uncovered – about half the professors that had been on the roof, all of them dead. As for the other half…well, it didn’t take much imagination to connect them to the bodies that had fallen into the surf.

 

It wasn’t the numbing shock Aithne had felt during the first attack but it was a shock nonetheless. For a time, they could only stare, but then Merks noticed her robe and vanished, popping back a moment later to hand her a fresh one. They moved as she thanked him and put it on, passing through the rubble to the stairs to the lower floors, gathering survivors as the went until, by the time they reached the ground floor and opened the doors of the school, there were several hundred of them, all students, slaves, or servants.

 

They were greeted outside by Tolfdir, the only other professor they had found, along with those who had fought on the grounds around the school. Together, they merged into a mass, one that both celebrated their victory and grieved their losses at the same time. After some time of this, a sort of order established itself based on the question that slowly burbled out of the mass mind: What next?

 

Merks had an answer immediately. “We need a new Archmage, first and foremost.”

 

The pronouncement went through Aithne like a shot, as if she had just learned about Professor Ervine’s death in that moment. It just hadn’t seemed real until it was said out loud. She cleared her throat as the people began to mutter to each other, and motioned at the elderly mage at her side. “Professor Tolfdir is the logical choice.”

 

More variable sounds from the crowd, but Tolfdir raised his hands and called out, “Quiet, quiet! We need to discuss this. It is true that I have the most experience, but that alone does not make a good leader. We need someone who has demonstrated both their talent, their ingenuity, and their ability to keep a calm head. Of course you have realized by now, I mean Professor gro-Shub. I believe she is the best suited for this task.”

 

Aithne squeaked out, “What?!” but her voice was immediately subsumed by the crowd, who cheered the statement. “But…”

 

Tolfdir chuckled. “Looks like the people have spoken. Congratulations, Archmage. I look forward to working with you for as long as we can.”

 

He winked, turned, and headed back into the college while the newly-appointed Archmage stood tongue-tied as the courtyard full of students celebrated her unexpected promotion.

Next chapter

 

Previous chapter

 

Start from the beginning