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“I’m pleased you made it,” I whisper.

“It was close. My injuries were fatal. If not for Beranabus, I would have died.”

“Yes, yes, I’m better than any doctor,” Beranabus says impatiently. “Now what about my other Disciple? Where’s Nadia? Not dead, surely.”

I pause. Part of me wants to cover up for her and tell him she was killed by a demon. But his small dark eyes are fixed on me and I find myself incapable of attempting a lie. “She didn’t want to come back. She left me. Went off by hers

elf. She’s had enough of demons.”

Beranabus’s face blackens with fury. “I’ll flay her skin from her back! Find her. Open a window to her. Immediately.”

“I do not think you should do that,” Sharmila says. “Nadia is a free agent. If she wants to —”

“I don’t care about her wants!” Beranabus bellows. “We need her. Now open that window, Kernel, and don’t pretend you can’t. I’ll know if you’re lying. And I’ll punish you for it.”

I want to tell him to stuff it, I’m not his servant. But those dark eyes are fierce with anger when I look at him, and I wilt. “I’ll try,” I mutter unhappily. “I’m not sure it will work, since she’s not in this universe, but I’ll give it a go. If you’re certain.”

“Aye!” Beranabus growls, glaring at me as I clear my thoughts and concentrate on Nadia’s image, feeling like a traitor of the lowest, meanest order.

We’re waiting for Beranabus. He said that because of the time differences between this world and ours, he could be gone for a few hours as we experience it, even though it will only be a few minutes for him. I keep an eye on the window, holding it open. It’s not hard. When I see a patch or two shimmer and start to slip free of the panel, I press them back into place.

We chat to pass the time. Sharmila tells Dervish and Shark about the Kah-Gash, Beranabus’s quest, her part in the mission. I describe how I got mixed up in it and demonstrate how I can construct windows so quickly, though I can’t explain why I alone can see the patches of light.

In return, Shark and Dervish tell us about their lives. Shark’s been a Disciple for several years, working with others to avert demonic crossings. He was in the army when he discovered his magical talent. On a tour of duty. A village came under attack from four demons. Shark and his team tried to stop them. A Disciple was present. He realized Shark’s potential when he saw him fighting, pulled him out of the massacre, explained about the Demonata. All of Shark’s fellow soldiers were killed, so Shark became a Disciple, though he still wears his uniform out of respect for the dead.

Dervish is new to the game. Shark discovered him a few months ago while trying to stop a crossing in the city where I met them. He was successful, thanks to Dervish, who happened to be nearby when a window was about to open. Dervish saw that Shark was in trouble, ran to his aid and used magic he’d never known he possessed to knock out the woman trying to open the window. That was the end of life as he knew it.

“Is that how Disciples are normally recruited?” I ask. “There’s an attack, they discover magic within themselves, and a Disciple asks them to join?”

“Pretty much,” Shark says. “Lots of people have magical ability, but it usually only reveals itself in the presence of demons. When windows are created, some of the magic of their universe flows through, which people like us can tap into, even without training or intent. We’ve spent decades trying to identify and develop the potential some other way, but no luck so far.”

“Does everybody join once they know they have the power?” I ask.

“No,” Sharmila answers. “Many reject their calling. I do not blame them. Ours is a harsh life, lonely, filled with peril.”

Shark snorts with contempt. “If I had my way, we’d force them all to fight.”

“That would be unfair,” Sharmila says.

“This isn’t about fairness,” Shark argues. “It’s about winning a war. You can’t run away from your duty during war. It’s desertion.”

“That’s what Nadia did,” I say softly, and my eyes meet with Sharmila’s. We’re both worried about what will happen when Beranabus catches up with her.

Nadia falls hard through the window and lands heavily on the ground. She howls hatefully and tries to leap back through the panel of light. Beranabus appears before she completes the jump. Shoves her away, snarling like an animal. “Stop!” he roars.

Nadia tries to wriggle around him, fingers stretching towards the window of light. He blocks her way, standing firm like a Roman emperor while Nadia shrieks and wails. She tries using magic to move him, but he flicks aside her bolt of energy and holds his position. “Kernel!” he shouts. “Dismantle the window.”

“I’m not sure I should —”

He flashes his teeth at me, making it very clear that he’ll turn on me next if I disobey him. Feeling lousy and afraid, I slink around Nadia and Beranabus — the magician fending his assistant off, protecting me from her — and set to work on the window. After I remove a few pieces, the patches slide apart and the window disappears.

Nadia throws herself flat and weeps into the yellow earth, hammering the ground with her fists. Beranabus sighs and steps aside, rubbing the back of his neck. “You’ll thank me for this later,” he says.

“I’ll thank the demon who rips your head off and fills your skull with fire!” she screams back, then bolts upright and glares at me. “You showed him where to find me!”

“I had to,” I mutter shamefully. “He said he’d —”

She spits at me.

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