Pasquinelli/Rise 465

“Freeze...slow-down...reverse... Time’s Arrow...TimeStream...Incursion.” Jon kept chanting those six Charges on his dozen-mile journey back to the castle. He had no idea how they worked, or better yet, how to produce them, or worse yet, how to even control them. Nevertheless, these pleasant thoughts accompanied Jon on his way back.

There was quite a bit more traffic at this time of the morning. But this day, the traffic was different -- GravShuttles and GravScooters were filled to the brim with belongings, horse-drawn carriages carrying entire families and more belongings, people were even walking out, carrying suitcases or duffel bags. The mood was very clear -- Noreans wanted out. Jon frowned. Jotea was amassing a huge fighting force, and from the brief encounter he’d had with VIRA, it would seem the Guild was severely outnumbered. Houses, trees, brambles, and walkers whizzed by, and Jon had to occasionally engage in some fancy floating to pass slow moving shuttles or carriages. The sun was clearly shining now, and although light was permeating every read, every house, every tree, and the entire ocean, a shadow like splattered mud caked the world.

Jon’s stomach went up a few feet, or rather, felt himself drop a few feet over a hill. And still every once in a while he could hear and see Force members speeding by him, heading for High Street, undoubtedly rushing down to the city gates.

Now that his brain was more awake and functioning with less static, Jon’s mind wandered back to the face of Ignus -- the face that seemed like his own, or worse yet, how close that face could be to himself. The thought was agonizing yet Jon couldn’t seem to push it from his mind. The Phoenix Amulet robes billowed behind him, whispering reminders of how their fates were now intertwined, and Jon steeled with a feeling of dread that this may be inescapable. After all, it seemed like every time he used his Charge from the Amulet, he felt incredibly powerful. For a brief minute, Jon could almost understand how intoxicated with power Ignus must be. It was then that Jon looked down at his watch again. The Guild, and Ignus, were already in the Norean lands, moving toward the city.

But then the thought of the people that Ignus stepped on, betrayed, and even killed to get where he was -- Sye’s family, the current monarchs just to name those Jon knew about. And he wagered Nexile’s husband’s disappearance wasn’t coincidence either. His thoughts went briefly to his own parents... His dad was probably just waking up to head to work -- Jon doubted whether his father worried about him now. Their final parting goodbyes weren’t exactly amicable; they just argued. Then he thought of his mother, Alicia, who was probably still sleeping. He wondered if the fog that clouded her mind during her waking hours lifted at night, during her dreams. There had been times when she seemed to almost recognize Jon, but it was temporary, and less frequent as time went on. Fortunately, they were both a long way away, untouched by the mess he’d gotten himself into. For a moment Jon wondered what Daniel would think if he knew all this as well... provided he actually believed any of it. Jon allowed himself a moment of envy -- envy for all those on the other side of the Gate, envy for their ignorance of the terrible things that were going on in such a beautiful world, envy for all those who didn’t fear for their lives every waking and sleeping moment.

But Jon’s self-pity was to be short-lived. There was no time to let it fester -- the castle turrets and sloping roofs were appearing through the rapidly thinning trees lining the streets. Imperial Way became wider, straighter, and more business-like as Jon drew near High Street.

The streets, however, were not as Jon left them. As soon as the castle came more into view and the High Street/Imperial Way intersection came into his sight, it was like a stadium full of people had been let out. And there was noise that burst on Jon’s ears almost as soon as he saw them, and the throngs of people and vessels swarmed the streets -- many of the crowd were color-coded; Jon saw several in red, white, blue, gold, green, orange, silver and bronze. They were all armed with what looked like rifles, and they were all in concentric rank and file lines, facing west, toward the city gates.

“Looks like Jotea’s been busy since I left,” Jon muttered to himself as the crowd grew closer, and Jon slowed down.

“Look, mommy, it’s the evil man!” a child screamed with delight, pointing at Jon and jumping up and down on his heels.

“Sweetie, come here,” a woman said from her front door, pointing at the floor in front of her.

The small child ran gleefully back into her mothers’ arms, and smiled hugely at Jon before she was scooped inside.

Numerous other people haphazardly occupied the Imperial Plaza as Jon drew nearer. They looked like civilians who seemed to be trying to get themselves in order, but were not succeeding. All the noise seemed to be coming from the crowds who didn’t seem to know what they were doing. Many of the color-clad Force members seemed to be attempting to direct the crowds, but to little avail. As Jon approached the capitol, he slowed the GravScooter down even more, and he instinctively put his hand to his shoulder and felt the rough-hewn outer layers of his Phoenix Amulet robes, reminding him he was still transformed.

Figuring this was probably a bad time to be prancing around literally in the enemy’s garb, he pulled at the phoenix on his chest and the Amulet appeared once more in his hand seconds later. He then ran his hands through his hair a few times to mess it up and cover as much of his face as it would -- the less he was recognized, the better. The last time he was exposed in such a huge crowd, the outcome was not exactly a warm welcome.

Jon once again shoved the Amulet in his only good front pocket, increased his speed, and pulled a sharp right turn down a street called Primrose -- it was the closest street to Jon that would take him to the castle the long way around crowd. Finally, for once, no one seemed to notice Jon zipping down Primrose Avenue in his jeans and T-shirt, Amulet pulsing in his pocket like a warm stone, and pale golden sun warmed his freezing face.

The cobbled street slid silently under him, and Jon reached another minor intersection. This time a great massive movement caught his eye and he slowed down to see. The group of people assembled in the Imperial Plaza was moving, like a hoard of insects, slowly toward the west. The scattered multi-colored Force soldiers seemed to be the only parts of the group moving cohesively -- the rest were going at various paces and not keeping form. As Jon stared at the mesmerizing sight, one woman who was walking and looking down the very street Jon had stopped on, recognized him because she very deliberately stopped. She squinted in Jon’s direction.

Just as Jon’s brain sent the signal to his hands to activate the acceleration, the woman started yelling.

“It’s him. GET HIM!”

Several other people in the mass crowd turned to Jon and started walking and running toward him.

Jon squeezed the rubber handles and put on maximum speed. As he did, several focused rays of the Pimicron blasters shot out at him. He already had instinctively ducked down and narrowly missed another beam before he sped toward the other side of the street and a building obscured him from view. His heart was beating fast again, but he could distinctly hear other people shouting in the distance, “No!” and “Stop firing!” behind him as a few more stray blasters let loose.

Buildings were whizzing past him once more, and the ruckus of the dissenting crowd was gone again. Jon looked down one of the streets -- the army and mass of people was gone. They must be marching for the gates, Jon thought. He hoped the crowd he saw was a second wave of the army, because it was surely going to take them longer than an hour to walk the six-mile stretch from the Imperial Plaza to the city walls. Mentally shoving this unpleasant thought aside, Jon saw something he seemed to be hitting a lot of lately -- a dead end. Or rather, as he got closer, a T intersection. He veered left -- there were hardly any more GravShuttles, Scooters or people anymore. High Street was up ahead. He turned right onto it, and figured he was far enough behind the crowd to steal a look. Releasing the handles, the GravScooter came to a gliding stop, and Jon looked back over his shoulder.

The mass of people was deceptively smaller than Jon thought. The crowd must have just began to form at the Plaza and extended only a few blocks. There were maybe five hundred people total moving west down High Street. Jon’s stomach turned. As disarranged, as they looked, fickle and unorganized, those were the people who were going to save the city? And to top it off, they were late.

He hadn’t spoken to Jotea in more than a day now, and Jon got the distinct impression she was avoiding him -- or avoiding something anyway. That thought just made anger bubble along with everything else. He hoped it wouldn’t interfere in the next few hours, but he doubted that his adrenaline would be effected by this ... he seemed to have copious amounts of that stored up.

He shook his head a little bit and put the GravScooter back into full force. The castle became bigger and bigger, until finally Jon reached the massive dark iron gates. There was a guard flanking each side of it this time.

Jon groaned, but to his utter surprise, when he reached earshot of the guards (avoiding them was impossible -- they clearly saw his GravScooter gliding down the middle of High Street), the one to his left said, “Mr. Kenneth, the Empress has been expecting you.”

They each stepped one pace away from the gate as it swung open toward Jon, revealing the grassy courtyard beyond. As Jon flew through the gates, they closed behind him, and the world of the war seemed to shut with it, as the peacocks warbled and serene semi-silence set in. Jon steered the GravScooter back around to the backside of the castle, and the low whinnies of the horses were the only sounds to be heard. He looked up at the high windows and hoped that Ray wasn’t too worried about him being gone for so long. It took him a second to process that thought, then smiled. Ray was probably hanging out with that Iannisene guy she seemed to have befriended. He squinted up at the castle in hopes that he could pull a Superman and have some kind of X-ray vision again, but it was to no avail. The stone facade remained an earthy gray solid wall, most likely because Jon was still in mortal form.

He picked up his step as he made his way back to the front gates -- there were only minutes left now. In fact, the Onyx Guild was probably pouring to within striking distance of the city by now. Another stab of annoyance pushed into him. Why hadn’t Jotea sent out anyone to destroy those two travelers? This problem could have been solved already.

Just as he came up the front stairs two at a time, both of the double doors flew open, and Jotea stood in the exact center of the doorway, with her long brown hair pulled back in an elaborate set of half a dozen buns on her head. Not a hair was out of place. Jon, for a second, felt very embarrassed to be seen in his jeans and T-shirt with his hair so very ruffled. Jotea still looked queenly with a platinum circlet on her head, and snow white jumpsuit much like Ray’s, but with the Rosebridge coat of arms embroidered in gleaming silver on it’s front and a long white cape behind her -- clearly ready for battle. But her emotions, on the other hand, were far more difficult to read than her dress. She must have switched them off entirely because her face was unreadable. There was no expression at all. She locked eyes with Jon and said flatly, “Come with me, please.”

Jon felt like a child about to be punished. He frowned, but followed Jotea as she turned on the spot and strode down the hall with a perfect erect stance. The front doors closed just behind Jon.

“Where is everybody?” he said.

“Near the city gates.”

“And you?” said Jon, with a snide tone.

“I am here.”

“Why not out there, with them yet?”

“There is one matter I needed to attend to first. I will join them in a few minutes.”

Minutes? Jon thought. Surely it would take a few hours to walk all that way, and a good hour by Grav-means.

“Uh, won’t you be a little late --?”

“I’ll fly,” she said simply.

Jon wanted to shoot back something venomous, but he refrained. They walked through the foyer, and it was magnificent in the early morning light. Their pace was quick, but the red carpet muffled all their footfalls.

Jotea sped up the stairs and went to the right staircase when it split off. They proceeded down another long hall, up another two sets of staircases, and finally into a small corridor with maybe a half dozen doors. Jon knew this to be the servant’s quarters. She stopped in front of a closed door that seemed to be thumping back at the two of them.

“What are we doing here?”

“You’ll be joining Miss Cavitt in a moment.”

“And then what?” said Jon, expecting another set of instructions. Maybe Jotea had a secret Window that lead from this room right to the battlefield so they could surprise-attack.

“Then staying put.”

Jon paused for a second. “What do you mean, ‘staying put’?”

“I think you know precisely what I mean, Mr. Kenneth,” (the use of surname name cut into Jon more than the icy tone she said it with). “I brought you two into this world, and it was a mistake. A mistake I should never have made.”

“What are you talking about? We came back here because we wanted to.”

“Yes, I know. You feel you owe it to us,” said Jotea, the cold, glassy wall between them thinning a bit. There was emotion in her words again. “But I am still responsible. If I hadn’t lead you, you might never have been involved. I’m supremely lucky you two haven’t been worse than injured.”

Jon’s anger was returning at being treated like a sick little bird. He felt like lashing out at her, and now seemed a good a time as any. “So why didn’t you stop all this? You could have killed Ignus when we were in the Frost!”

“Possibly. He’s more powerful than you think, and so are his very loyal followers.” Jotea’s composure was returning again, but Jon wasn’t done yet. Not nearly done.

“What about those two travelers, huh? Why didn’t you just send a squadron of your Force to take them out?”

“You do not understand.” Jotea wasn’t yelling, but her voice was growing louder and firmer. “Ignus and the Guild must engage me at some point. By meeting them head on, I am taking it on MY terms.”

“So this is about your pride?”

“No. This is about tactics. If I thwarted this attempt by the Guild, there would be another -- better planned and on a larger scale. More death, more destruction...maybe even capture of the city. By engaging him now, I may be able to destroy the Guild, or weaken it severely. At the very least I can show him what true Iannisenes are made of, and then he’ll think twice before trying to take us on again!”

Jon shook his head. “You’re walking right into a trap.”

Jotea held up a finger. “Correction. He is.”

For a moment, Jon thought about it and there was some truth to what she said. If Ignus was foiled again, he’d mount another attack, probably more huge than the prior. If Jotea played her cards right, she could destroy the Guild. But something still nagged at him. Ignus was attacking them during broad daylight, marching right into the capitol city. What did he expect everyone to do? Bow down and welcome the Guild with a handshake?”

“I still don’t like this,” he settled on.

“Neither do I,” she said heavily.

The door thumped again. This time Jon thought he heard a faint yell.

“Ray’s behind that door, isn’t she?”

Jotea folded her hands behind her back. “Yes.”

“And I’m going to join her?”

Jotea inclined her head toward Jon.

“Why?”

“I thought I made that clear. Your presence here is a mistake. You shouldn’t--”

“You’re wrong. I was supposed to come here. I can beat him...Empress.” He didn’t know what to call her, so he stayed with the formal, just like she did. “I may be one of the few that can, aside from you. I need to beat him.”

Jotea looked into Jon’s eyes again, and for a brief moment, she seemed to melt, but something must have clicked in the back of her mind. Her gaze went stern and cold again. “You cannot. You’re too young and inexperienced. I was a fool. I will not have anyone else hurt.”

Jon scowled. “You’re making a big mistake.”

“In any case...” Jotea squinted her eyes and the dark wood door flew open, and Ray, looking highly affronted, poked her head around the doorway.

“Finally! You know how long I’ve been stuck here?” She put her hands on her hips and looked from Jon to Jotea. “Well?”

“Mr. Kenneth, please step inside.”

Jon stood firmly on the spot. He needed to think quickly if he was going to get out of the room-prison. Perhaps he should use Jotea’s own tactic against her.

“Fine!” Jon said theatrically. He hoped this was going to work. “So what, you want the Amulet too?” He thrust his hand in his pocket and held out the Amulet to Jotea.

She looked startled but her composure was undaunted. “Um, no of course not. If the unthinkable happens, and the Guild penetrates the defensive perimeter into the city, you should be able to defend yourself with your Charges intact. I would not remove a cat’s claws and send them into the wild.” She paused and looked at Ray, then Jon. “I’m not that foolish.”

Jon said, “Fine,” with as little emotion as he could feign, and trundled into the room, making himself feel annoyed and angry, (which wasn’t hard) to throw Jotea’s telepathy off. Ray stepped aside to let him in but looked shocked.

“You’re going to let her lock us in here?”

Jon stepped close to Ray to make it seem like he only wanted her to hear him, but kept his voice at a level he was certain Jotea would be able to discern. “Do you really think we could fight our way past her and even make it past the front doors?” He winked at her and widened both eyes before trudging to the other end of the room, plopping himself down on the floor, and staring out the window that overlooked the endless ocean hundreds of feet below.

“Well! That’s ... still not --”

Jon could tell Ray had caught on, but didn’t want to tip off Jotea.

“Please, remain here,” Jotea said. “I will come and release you in a few hours at most. There’s a restroom off to one side and snacks as well. I apologize for this, but try and remain calm and be as comfortable as possible. After the battle, I’ll let you out and escort you to the Forest of the Golden Rays to the Chamber of the Gate so you can --”

“Go home quietly?” said Jon, not looking at Jotea. He wasn’t faking anymore; he was truly disappointed that after all they’d been through, Jotea was ready to send them home.

“Yes.”

“And what about the Phoenix Amulet then?” Will you confiscate it?”

“No. It came to you for a reason. I won’t take it away from you. Even I know not to tamper with fate so carelessly.”

“And what about me?” chimed in Ray. “Are you going to take back the Charge you gave me?”

Jotea looked saddened, defeated. “No, Racine. I activated your Charge by a guess that your parent carried the Charge. My hunch was correct, and I gave you back what had been dormant for several generations. I can’t simply...extract it from you. If I could do that, this battle would be over before it started.”

“Good,” said Ray loudly.

“Where is all the action happening?” said Jon in an off-hand tone.

“On the Strell Pavilion, just outside the city gates.”

“Oh.”

“I’m shutting and locking the door now. I’m grateful you are cooperating. Thank you.” Jotea waved an arm, and the door closed with her still looking at the pair of them as she disappeared behind the thick wood.

Once he heard the door click, Jon ventured to look around the room. It appeared to be a staff lounge of some kind. There were a few couches and chairs here and there, but there was very little on the walls for decoration. It was clear that this was a room for those other than royalty, or royalty’s guests. Jon turned and gazed out the window. One thing that was unmistakably beautiful was the view. The tall narrow window showed a spectacular view of the Atlantis Ocean, gleaming in the midday sunlight. It looked placid and innocent, with the light aqua green water rolling and foaming slightly closer to the beach. Jon couldn’t actually see the beach from where they were, nor had he ever been, but he imagined that it had soft white sand and miniscule waves. One day, he would make the trek down the cliffs to the ocean. In fact, he was surprised that he hadn’t made it down sooner. But he was quite busy with trying to save a city.

“So how are we gonna get out of here,” Ray exclaimed after three seconds of silence.

Jon stood up. “No idea. Even if we did get out of here, we can’t fly like Jotea.”

Ray perked up. “I can.”

“You can glide, not fly.”

“I know that,” she snapped back. “I’ll be able to fly soon enough.”

“What do you mean?”

“Tobias, the dude I’ve been seeing while you’re out ...” she waved her hand as if trying to shake of numbness, “doing whatever you’re doing, told me about the Shifters in Iannis. By the time they’re my age, their Charge is almost fully developed. They can Shift into almost anything you can think of -- animals, people, inanimate objects... I’m seriously jealous.”

“Join the club. I’ve got the same problem.”

“Oh shut up. You just need more confidence. You could burn down this whole city in a heartbeat.”

“Uh, no, I can’t.”

“See? There you go again with this ‘can’t’ stuff.” Ray put her hands back on her hips and stood right over Jon. “I saw you when you burned down that tree back at school. I was there.”

Jon stood up and raised an eyebrow at her. “I case you forgot, so was I remember?”

“Well duh, but you didn’t really remember it. I mean I saw you do it, it came from you, no one else.”

“That was just because --”

“What? You just got the thing inside you a second before?”

“Well yeah! How else do you explain it?”

“It’s not about you not being able to do it,” said Ray. “You already can. The power and ability is coming from you. The Amulet chose you and it’s yours. You could do anything Ignus can do. In fact, you can do more than he can. I also saw that line of fire you created in the Hall of Records. That was all you. What did that feel like?”

“It felt...” Jon remembered the encounter with the docent. “Really good. Felt like I should be doing it.”

“Exactly,” said Ray with finality.

But something still bothered Jon. “But Ignus probably felt the same way. That was me.”

“Nope,” said Ray quickly, seeming to anticipate this. “You’re here, now, choosing to help people you barely know. I think that is a huge difference, if you ask me.”

“You really think so?”

“Uh, yeah.”

Jon smiled. Hearing that from Ray, conceivably his best friend right now, made him feel a lot better. And oddly, a lot more powerful. That surge of power he experienced in the Hall of Records had something that came along with it -- renewed fear of history repeating itself. But with Ray behind him, the feelings changed. Now Jon felt power, but something else he hadn’t felt before -- control. Finally the two seemed to be in conjunction with one another. But he needed to test it. He needed to be certain he had full range of his powers. “I believe you.”

“I’ve only been trying to tell you this for how long?”

“I think I’ve got an idea.”

Rays eyes lit up. “Will it get us out of here? Cuz I tried smashing that window with one of the chairs. Didn’t work. It’s way too thick.”

“It might get us out of here, yeah.”

“Do it. We’re desperate.”

“Okay...” Jon looked around the room and thought hard. It would require movement, and if he did really feel like he was in total control, this would be one of the ways to ensure it. He jammed his hand in his pocket and said the words “Avitus Incendium Advocare” under his breath and held the Amulet tightly. It felt warm and melted into his hand. The familiar warmth crawled up his arm, and the ancient garments wrapped themselves around Jon’s body. He took a deep breath. The Amulet seemed to sense his newfound balance because Jon’s hands tingled with energy. It felt right.

“Take that chair,” Jon pointed at a chair near the door, “and throw it out the window.”

“I told you, I already tried that.”

“No, this time it’ll be different. Trust me.”

“Fine,” said Ray. She strode straight to the chair, picked it up and carried it under her arm back to a spot six feet from the window. Grabbing it with both hands, she heaved it right at the glass, but Jon was ready for it. He had already got in a defensive stance with arms at the ready. As the chair flew through the air, Jon focused hard on the passage of every millisecond of Time, and in his mind felt like he was a part of it. And just as his mind was chanting “stop, stop,” the chair moved slower, and slower toward the window. It impacted and began to splinter in slow motion until finally, the pieces stopped moving, and all sound ceased.

For a second Jon couldn’t believe his eyes -- there was Ray, with one foot forward and her entire body in a graceful curve, arms outstretched so that it looked like she was about to catch the chair she just flung.

No, said a voice in Jon’s head. You are not going to be surprised by this. This is exactly what you wanted to happen, and you did it. This is no accident, so stop feeling so shocked.

Jon nodded to himself. The Timeline felt like something Jon had a physical grip on, like a lawnmower that was going a few miles an hour. Fairly stable, but wobbly regardless of how tightly he held onto it. He went close to the window. The splintered pieces of the chair hung in midair at strange angles, and it only then registered to Jon that the air was thick again -- he had moved so effortlessly this time it seemed laughable that he had struggled at all before. Out the window, the world was frozen. The ocean was a gleaming sheet of rippled, dimpled green-blue glass.

He strode back over to Ray. He had never actually touched anything when Time was stopped, and wondered wither it would re-animate something or someone if he touched them. Taking a deep breath (as much as was physically possible in this condition), he closed his hand around Ray’s wrist. Not only did she not wake up, Jon couldn’t really feel her at all. No heat or cold transferred to his fingers, and he couldn’t feel her texture or pliability. It was as if his hand fallen asleep and he was trying to grab hold of an inanimate object. The effect was disconcerting, the silence was deafening, and he couldn’t really touch anyone.

Another thought struck Jon. He rushed to the splintered chair, and tried to grab a piece of one of its legs hanging in the air. The same effect happened when he tried to touch Ray -- there was no feeling it, and worse yet, no moving it. This could prove to be problematic. Now he needed Ray and his senses back. He also needed to think of a better way to start and stop the Timeline -- standing there for several seconds in concentration wouldn’t bode well with an enemy attacking. He’d need to think of some kind of physical movement that he could channel his temporal abilities through just like his Eternal Fire energy channeled through his hands.

But that would have to wait for later. Standing next to the frozen Ray again, Jon closed his eyes and began to let himself feel the Timeline again. This time, the mental bicycle handlebars were shaking pretty badly -- Jon was losing his grip on the temporal halt. Jon imagined himself releasing his grip on the handlebars.

The air became thinner and more breathable and the crash of the chair into the window was deafening.

Ray stood up straight and widened her eyes at Jon. “You were right over there...” she pointed at the spot Jon had stood before he stopped the Timeline. “How did you --?”

“I needed to test myself to see if I could stop Time.”

“Oh. Of course. You did it, right.”

“Obviously.” Jon smiled.

“Nice. But it doesn’t get the window open.”

“True, but it was just a test. What I need to do now is more complicated, I think.”

“How do you mean?”

“I went to someone about temporal abilities. He showed me some...things.” Jon remembered Time’s Arrow and how he could send someone to another point in time if he could figure out how.

Jon turned to face the door and held out both hands toward it.

“What are you doing?”

“I think I can break the door down.”

“Stop.”

Jon looked over his shoulder at Ray. “Why?”

“Do the window.”

“Huh?”

“The window, Jon. If we go down through the castle, we’ll have to walk the whole way. I can glide us out the window. We might even beat her,” Ray said with a wicked half-smile.

“We could also fall to our death.”

“Or we could sit her and wait for them to come and torture us.”

“Good point.” Jon turned toward the window.

He closed his eyes and felt for the Timeline once again. It pulsed and hummed in his ears. He could feel the fabric of Time slowly passing through and around him like a steady breeze. Jon reopened his eyes, brought his hands together at the palms and concentrated on the glass window. With his mind, Jon envisioned himself pulling Time in a beam generating at his fingertips. They actually tingled, and Jon gave a quick thrust directed to the window. Jon’s eyes widened in surprise as the center of the window began to ripple outward in a perfect circle. The wall framing the window also distorted and the glass spread itself in a perfect circle from the center. The entire shape of the window was changing from rectangular to a rectangle with a huge circular bulge in its center. Jon kept concentrating until the distortion in the window looked less like a rectangle and more like a misshapen glass blob. He stopped there.

“The hell did you do?” said Ray, moving carefully to the window as Jon lowered his hands and took a deep breath.

“I’m not entirely sure, but I think I just aged the glass a few hundred years.”

“Making it --?”

“Brittle, I hope,” said Jon, eyes still fixed on the now huge window.

Ray picked up the second chair in the room. “Now?”

“Yeah, now should work.”

For the second time in five minutes, Ray hurled a chair at the window, but this time, the outcome was far different. The chair sailed straight through the glass and shattered it as if it was paper-thin. All the shards of glass were miniscule and most of them fell on the outside of the window as the chair sank out of sight, still fully intact.

Jon and Ray went to the now huge window hole and looked down at the lawns below. The remains of the chair were scattered all over the grass. Jon put his head on the windowsill to steady his stance, and even then bits of glass he was pressing against broke even more into smaller pieces -- some the size of glitter specs.

“That’s rad,” Ray said, craning her neck over the window. She stepped back away from the opening wall as Jon continued to look at the drop. There was a rush of wind, and when Jon wheeled around, great black wings protruded from Ray’s sides and back. They were so large that the ends were dragging on the floor five feet behind Ray like a weird feathery train.

Ray moved toward the window again and put both arms out like a diver does before taking a plunge.

“How do we do this?” said Jon, looking from her to the ground down below.

“I hope you’re light, cuz the only way I know how is if you climb on my back.”

“Are you sure?” Jon said.

“Have you got any better ideas? Aren’t we out of time?”

For the last time that day, Jon checked his watch. It was nine thirty, and the Guild should all be through their portable window and marching on Norea. The Empress needed them, now. He nodded at Ray, and stepped to the back of her, careful to avoid trampling on her undulating wings. He awkwardly put his arms around Ray’s neck and stood behind her.

“You trying to choke me or something? Here.” She grabbed his hands and put them around her midsection.

Jon’s face flushed as he clasped his hands together. “Is that better?”

“I suppose that’ll work. One the count of three, I’m going to take three quick steps an dive out the window, starting with my right foot, got it?”

“Wait!” said Jon. “Maybe we should practice the running thing.”

“Fine,” said Ray as she turned to her left began to count, “One, two...three!”

Jon tried to match Ray’s step, but her steps were a lot shorter than his -- Jon barely landed his first footfall and already he tripped on Ray’s wing. She yelped and they both toppled down together.

“OW. Damn it,” she said as she yanked her wing from under Jon’s leg.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” said Jon. “I’m trying to keep up with you.”

“Yeah, and doing too good a job of it,” said Ray.

“Okay, let’s try again, but don’t change your pace; I’ll try and match yours.”

"Don’t step on my wings again. It’s like stepping on my foot.”

“I’ll try,” Jon promised as they both got up.

“Here goes again,” said Ray as they stood up and she adjusted her wings. Jon stepped up behind her and put his arms around her middle again, this time without hesitation -- the awkward moment was easily dispelled by the mishap. “On three. One...two...three!”

This time Jon hesitated slightly before stepping, which led to a slow acceleration, but he was able to judge where to step once she did, and mimicked the distance with fairly good accuracy. They had a good running start and made it all the way to the end of the room. Jon almost made them topple over again when Ray stopped, but they righted themselves.

“That was better,” she said. “I don’t need to use my arms much to glide, so I’m gonna grab onto your legs when we jump from the window.”

“Right, said Jon, his heart beginning to hammer again.

Ray turned to face the window again. “Okay. Come on. Ready.” (Jon wasn’t ready in the slightest, but it didn’t matter.) “One...two...THREE!”

Jon inhaled quickly and matched Ray’s quick strides to the window, and miraculously they didn’t trip or fall on one another. Just as she took the last step and pushed off with her feet, Jon had already jumped behind her, tightened his grip around her midsection and felt his stomach leave him as they fell vertically through the air, with Ray digging her fingers into Jon’s thighs.