Aquenno is scowling. Granted, this is a frequent expression for him, but today he looks as though he bit into a lemon. He paces back and forth across the ruined square, and the air around him ripples in agitation.

  “Is there something we should know?” Mirzayael asks him, crossing her arms from her seat on a nearby boulder.

  The three of us are outside the city, tucked away in some of the Drifting Isle’s ruins. If my calculations are correct, the barrier should intersect this section of ground once activated. It was the best section we could find away from the public eye, and while I’d rather not destroy the remains of an ancient civilization, if something does go wrong, at least any resulting damage won’t be noticed by anyone in the city.

  “No,” Aquenno grumbles. “I understand the necessity of this plan. I just wish I could have spoken to Blair about it, first.”

  “So this has nothing to do with Shirasil?” I ask. “Do you not trust him?”

  Aquenno stops pacing to turn his frown on me. “I would like to. I think Lord Blair does. But he is too… volatile for my taste.”

  “Impulsive?” I suggest. But to my surprise, Aquenno shakes his head.

  “Nothing he does is impulsive. There is far more calculation there beneath the surface than I believe he wants anyone to know. But…” Once more, the champion hesitates. “I worry about his ability to maintain control, sometimes.”

  I raise an eyebrow. “Control over what?”

  “My dashingly good looks,” Lisari says with a wide grin, stepping out from behind a ruined wall. “I admit, I overdo it sometimes.”

  I jump, and Mirzayael springs to her feet.

  “The Alarm spell?” she wonders.

  “Not triggered,” I confirm. Then I squint at where Lisari is standing. She’s just outside the field’s perimeter. Coincidence?

  The god strolls casually forward, hands clasped behind her back, and the Alarm spell finally goes off. I wince at the sound bouncing around my head and reset the spell.

  “No, please,” Lisari says. “Don’t look so excited to see me. It’s not like I was invited, or anything.”

  “We’re glad you could make it,” I say, and Lisari’s expression lights up. Meanwhile, Aquenno and Mirzayael frown. Well, I’m glad she could make it, at least. “We can’t do this without you.”

  “Of course,” she says. “Mad science? Experiments with magic? Wouldn’t miss it for the world! So, what’s your plan?”

  I check the System’s interface. “We still have a few minutes before the shield is scheduled to activate. A maintenance test, of course.”

  Lisari chuckles. “Of course.”

  “We will have an hour following that to test the barrier,” I continue.

  “Should be plenty of time.” Lisari tips her head toward Aquenno. “And him?”

  “We need to be sure it’s effective against gods and champions alike,” I say. “Not to mention, find a way to exempt allies.”

  “Exempt how?” Lisari asks.

  “Fyre,” Mirzayael cautions. She doesn’t want to reveal too much information to the god. But I’m not sure this test will be robust enough without Lisari understanding how the shield operates. I don’t want any blindspots.

  “One thing at a time,” I reply to Lisari. “The shield will only be going up once during this maintenance window, so we need to make the most of it. First, we need to see how the spell reacts when a god is already within its boundaries when it activates.”

  “Fun,” Lisari says, lacking any hint of sarcasm. “Without examining the spell circles myself, I predict it will either fail or violently expel me.”

  “Examining the spell circles is not an option,” Mirzayael says firmly.

  Lisari holds up her hands. “I never assumed it would be. Besides, experiments are much more exciting when you don’t know the answer going in!”

  She’s acting very cavalier about this considering one of her predicted outcomes is “violent expulsion.”

  Aquenno, who has been keeping a careful and reserved eye on Lisari since her arrival, finally switches his attention back over to me. “What about myself? Should I prepare for this expulsion as well?”

  “You will be unaffected,” Mirzayael says with a trace of disappointment. Lisari snickers.

  “We still haven’t figured out how to filter champions from the general population,” I tell him. “Which is what we need your help for.”

  Just then, a light flashes from one of the watchtowers. Dizzi, who has been left in charge of the spell circuit and actually is performing maintenance checks on all the circles (might as well,) appears to have activated the dome. Right on time, too.

  This is my first time witnessing it with my own eyes. An orange light spreads into the sky from the watchtower like an upside-down bowl filling with water. Then the orange begins to seep down, slowly descending around the Fortress. A portion of the farmland outside the city walls is also captured within the dome, along with a corner of the Ruins where we’re currently standing. At least, it should, if my calculations are correct.

  Aquenno shifts nervously, watching the sky as the magic sinks toward us.

  Lisari tips her head. “From the way you all just went silent, I assume the spell’s been activated.”

  “Oh,” I say, a little embarrassed. “Sorry. Yes, it should reach us in another fifteen seconds, I’d estimate.”

  I’d at first assumed her blindness was part of some ruse to get people to underestimate her, but it’s become clear in the time I’ve spent with her that she truly is blind. Are the gods’ powers not sufficient to restore sight? Or does she simply not want it restored?

  A breeze picks up around the square, lifting leaves and dust as it swirls above us. “Ah,” Lisari says. “Yes, I see. Well, I suppose there’s not much time to plan is there? I will attempt to disrupt the spell’s effect.”

  “Wait,” Mirzayael says. “What do you mean by that?”

  “Who knows?” Lisari says, grinning up at the sky. “Depends on how the spell works. You did invite me here to ensure the barrier was effective, didn’t you? Then it needs to be put to the test.”

  Aquenno backs away from Lisari. “It may be prudent to take cover,” the champion says.

  From the excited look on Lisari’s face, I’m in complete agreement. Mirzayael and I also start to edge away. Then, as the wind picks up, we move a little faster. Aquenno jumps behind a weathered wall, and Mirzayael and I are right on his heels. I peek back up to watch as Lisari casually stands in the middle of the square, hands clasped as the barrier descends upon her. She shifts her stance slightly, positioning herself directly beneath the dome’s edge, then raises a palm.

  The barrier connects with her hand in a flash of light. The air cracks like thunder, and a blast of wind strikes our wall. Aquenno ducks, no longer watching, then summons a barrier of his own—this one shimmery and transparent, more of a shield than a dome. He expands the spell so it encompasses Mirzayael and I as well. I appreciate the gesture, because I’m too fascinated to take my eyes off the god.

  Magic crackles and sparks in Lisari’s hand. The dome continues to descend around her, meeting the ground everywhere except where her hand has stopped it, like she’s holding up the hem of a heavy curtain. I can barely make her out beneath the bursts of light that are emitted as the two magics clash—though I’m fairly sure she’s laughing. She raises her other hand as well, and the wind in the square grows stronger, buffeting against us and threatening to grab my wings. I try to flatten them down as Aquenno attempts to maintain his barrier. But the spell is rippling like an umbrella about to be torn from his grasp. Mirzayael wraps an arm around my back, helping to pin down my wings, and squeezes me tight against her side.

  Finally I look away, ducking down to shield myself. If this gets any worse, I worry Ollie’s Role will activate. Maybe this was a mistake. I didn’t have to be down here. I could have left it to Mirzayael and spoken through her from afar—

  Another ear-splitting crack snaps through the Ruins. In an instant the wind dies, and the flashing lights stop. Everything is perfectly silent and still. I touch my ear, wondering if my hearing had just been blown out. Aquenno lets down his shield.

  “You alright?” Mirzayael asks me.

  “Fine,” Aquenno says, looking over the wall. I can sense irritation flare up within Mirzayael at the misunderstanding, but he continues before she can respond. “Heavens above.”

  Mirzayael and I look back over the wall, too. The dome has completed its activation. There’s no sign of Lisari, save for a shallow crater of cracked stone in the ground where she had previously been standing. The three of us cautiously step out from behind our shelter and make our way over to where the god had been.

  “Where did she go?” Aqeunno asks, voicing the same thoughts Mirzayael and I are currently sharing. Outside is nothing but crumbled Ruins. Aquenno hesitates before the dome. “Is it safe to interact with?”

  “It should be.” I step up toward the barrier, holding out a hand. “It’s currently programmed to only oppose those over the age of three-hundred.” My hand makes contact with the shield and passes through with only a breath of resistance, like running my fingers through luke-warm water. I step fully outside the barrier then try again from the outside, and my hand once more passes through. Good to confirm that part is functioning, at least.

  Aquenno also hesitantly steps outside the barrier. “Where—”

  “Wow!”

  The three of us startle as the pile of rocks in front of us shifts. A portion of a wall topples to one side in a grating crash, sending up a cloud of dust. Lisari coughs, and the dust instantly clears itself out with a pointed breeze. The god pats at her shoulders, knocking rubble from her robes.

  “That spell’s got a kick.” She stumbles out of the newly broken Ruins. I wince slightly at the sight, but that was why we held this experiment here in the first place. “That age requirement, though—no good, that won’t work at all.”

  “Um.” I glance between the others as Lisari continues to dust herself off. “Care to explain what just happened?”

  “Oh!” Lisari says. “Sure, sure. Well, you were right about the spell working to expel me. I was initially able to hold off the dome’s progress—no easy feat, I hope you’re sufficiently impressed—before I realized I was likely to run out of mana well before the Drifting Isles would. So I stepped inside and let the spell complete. Whereupon it felt like someone took a hammer to my chest and I was flung outside the dome. Luckily, the wall broke my fall.” She gestures at the pile of rubble behind her.

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  Aquenno’s mouth is hanging open. Mirzayael’s expression remains stoney, but she can’t hide the awe in her mind. I’m a bit stunned, too. I’ve known Lisari was a god all this time, but watching a human body get thrown through a wall, just to stand back up and dust herself off, is something else.

  Seeing is believing, I suppose the saying goes.

  Even so, the comment about her mana has me curious. How much did she expend, exactly? Check.

  [Name: Shirasil]

  [Title: God]

  [Class: Anarchic Alchemist]

  [Level: 100]

  [Mana: 4,715]

  [HP: 7,281/10,000]

  [Role: The Inquisitor]

  I suck in a breath. The mana number I had expected to be lower than her typical 10,000, but her HP is the stat that surprises me. She’s hurt. That expulsion did a lot more damage than she’s letting on.

  “Are you o—”

  “Ah, ah, ah.” Lisari cuts me off, waggling a finger. “Have you no concept of privacy? Really.”

  [Permissions temporarily suspended.]

  Abruptly, her Stats flicker out.

  Mirzayael frowns, keeping her eyes on Lisari. “What did she mean by that?” she asks me privately.

  “She’s hurt,” I tell her, trying to smooth the surprise out of my expression. “I guess she doesn’t want us to worry?”

  Mirzayael snorts. “That won’t be an issue.”

  “So, what next?” Lisari asks, casually strolling back over to the barrier. She prods a finger at it, snapping her hand back when magic zaps toward her hand. “Looks like I won’t be getting back inside anytime soon.”

  “Next,” I say, still trying to decipher Lisari’s behavior, “we need to find a way to do the same with Aquenno.”

  The champion grimaces. “I would rather not. I don’t believe I would survive such a blow.”

  “Oh, give yourself some credit,” Lisari says, and Aquenno bows his head the moment the god’s attention shifts toward him. “Those barriers of yours would save you. Maybe. Probably.”

  “We won’t do anything to hurt you,” I assure Aquenno. “Now that we know how it works with Lisari, we don’t need to replicate someone being inside the dome. Rather, we need to find a way to prevent you from stepping back inside of it.”

  The nereid looks rather relieved by this explanation. He touches the dome, his hand passing easily through. “You said it currently filters based on age.”

  “Which, as I said, won’t work,” Lisari pipes in. “Not on champions and gods are like Aquenno. Too many of mortal age after these latest Gods’ Tournaments. Though it was a good idea, I must admit.”

  Lisari’s words give me pause. Her particular word choice there has alarm bells going off in my head. Champions and gods…

  Mirzayael huffs. “I don’t suppose you have any alternatives to suggest?”

  Lisari turns toward us with a shrug. “Depends on how the spell circuit was designed. You tell me: you all made it, didn’t you? Quite impressive, by the way.”

  “Erm.” I exchange a glance with Mirzayael. This time, however, she doesn’t stop me. In fact, she proudly takes the lead.

  “It was designed by Fyreneth,” she says. “Built hundreds of years ago at our city’s inception.”

  “We merely turned it all on,” I add.

  Mirzayael gives an amused scoff. “You contributed far more than that, and you know it.”

  “It was mostly Dizzi and her researchers,” I object.

  “Stop downplaying your competence.”

  Lisari laughs at us. “Yes, I’m beginning to see that’s a trend for our fiery feathered friend.”

  Mirzayael, who is none too pleased to have a god agreeing with her, returns to glaring at Lisari.

  “At any rate,” I say, attempting to steer the conversation back to the topic at hand and away from more antagonizing, “age is the best metric we’ve been able to come up with. The circuit doesn’t recognize System Stats, or it would have been easy to just filter out, say, anyone with Champion or God as a title.”

  “Simple, though heavy-handed,” Lisari remarks. “You wouldn’t want to lock Aquenno out along with all the other champions, would you? Or, Heavens forbid, me! There must be a way to add exceptions to these conditions of yours.”

  “Yes. Heavens forbid,” Mirzayael mentally grumbles.

  “Exceptions are moot if we can’t find a way to filter out the groups in the first place,” I say to Lisari, ignoring Mirzayael’s commentary.

  The god taps thoughtfully at her chin. “Fair point, fair point. It would really help if I could examine the spell circles, you know.”

  “No time,” Mirzayael says.

  “Also,” she privately adds, “there is no scenario in which we hand over our city’s defensive spell circle designs to a god.”

  “In this instance, I am in complete agreement.”

  “Hm.” Lisari hums as she helplessly spreads her arms, wandering away from the dome. “I suppose there’s no helping that now. Tell me what sort of metrics you can use for this filter of yours.”

  “Almost anything,” I admit. “So long as it’s not System stats, which it doesn’t seem to understand. Age, weight, species… Wait, species. Could we use that?”

  I recall the time when Shirasil and Blair first appeared in the city, and neither of them showed up on the Dungeon Core’s Map interface, even though both humans and felis are in its catalog.

  But Lisari shakes her head. “I doubt that will work.”

  “Why?” I press. “The Dungeon Core couldn’t track you, as it didn’t recognize your species. Are you human, or is that merely a guise?”

  Lisari tips her head at me. Despite her dark glasses and lack of eyes, it feels like she’s staring intently at me. A chill runs down my back.

  “The Dungeon Core’s Interface is enabled by the System,” she finally says. “Like the Stats, it is privy to information your standard magic would not be able to parse. As I said, filtering by species won’t work.”

  “She dodged your question,” Mirzayael notes.

  Yes, I’m well aware. What I’m usure of is what that means.

  “How about magical aptitude?” Aquenno abruptly suggests. “That might not work for all champions, but it should be able to catch most, if not all, of the gods.”

  “Mana levels?” I consider this. It’s not a bad idea, considering the enormous reserves of mana the gods seem to have access to. But it has the potential to catch mortals in the filter, too. When I have access to the Dungeon Core’s wealth of mana it’s absorbed from the Drifting Isles, would I also be caught in that?

  Not to mention, Ollie’s mana levels are on the high end. What if there are other Travelers out there who also have high mana pools?

  I shake my head. “It’s a good idea, but I’m not sure it would achieve anything more than the age filter already does.”

  Everyone goes quiet as we consider our options.

  “Question,” Lisari abruptly speaks up. “These metrics don’t only have to be quantitative, do they? You can filter by qualities, too, such as species.”

  I nod. “That’s correct.”

  “Well, then what about names?” she suggests. “It’s not foolproof, as there could be some morons out there who named their child after a god, but that’s generally quite the faux pas. That doesn’t solve the champion problem, but it would be more comprehensive—not to mention you could, say, choose to let everyone named Shirasil in!”

  “Huh.” She’s right that it won’t be perfect—but so far in my time on this planet I’ve yet to meet anyone who shares a name with a god. Some names are inspired by gods, I’ve found: Rinvy derived from Rinviu, Dengora from Widengra, and so on. But Lisari is right that directly sharing a name with a god appears to be frowned upon.

  “It doesn’t hurt to try,” I say.

  Mirzayael gives Aquenno a considering look. “How many visiting nereids do we have?”

  “Fourteen,” I say, checking the Dungeon Core’s catalogue. “None named Aquenno, save for our friend here.”

  I can feel a mental eye roll from Mirzayael at the word “friend.”

  “It’s an uncommon name,” Aquenno confirms.

  “Let’s try it, then,” I say.

  Lisari raises an intrigued eyebrow. “You can update the spell’s conditions from out here?”

  “It shouldn’t be a problem,” I say, dipping into the Dungeon Core’s interface. “The Core is connected to the city’s spell network, which gives me remote access to all the city’s spells by proxy.”

  Lisari whistles. “A lot of power for one person to wield.”

  “Yes,” Mirzayael says dryly. “Unlike the gods.”

  Lisari guffaws as though Mirzayael just told a very good joke.

  I ignore the lot of them, closing my eyes as I find the Greater Barrier spell tucked within the Dungeon Core’s network of magic. The Core happily greets me, wondering if I have anything interesting for it to eat today.

  Sorry, friend, I think, accessing the spell. I’m afraid I don’t have anything for you right this moment.

  The Dungeon Core pouts, sinking into the background of my mind. It hasn’t gotten to eat anything in sooooooo long.

  I make a mental note to find something interesting for it to eat later. The last thing I need is a bored dog that turns to destructiveness for stimulation—especially when that dog is capable of taking bites out of a mountain.

  The System interface brings up a window to help me interpret the complex layers of magic, and I locate the input parameters where I can set what the barrier should filter out.

  Using the System interface this way is almost like donning a pair of polaroid glasses while looking into a sunlit pond; everything beneath the surface jumps into clarity. Almost like a GUI, really. Without it, I doubt I’d be able to parse all of the magic’s meaning.

  I leave the age restriction in place, then go to add Aquenno’s name to the list. Interestingly, the spell already has a list of names I can choose from. It takes me a minute to figure out where it came from.

  The surveillance spell. Anyone who has passed inside of the surveillance spell’s boundaries while it’s active was logged here, along with a plethora of stats about them. Name, species, age, magic capacity, and so on. It’s rather disturbing, actually. I don’t like that this exists.

  “What is it?” Mirzayael asks, noting my concern.

  “It’s the surveillance spell,” I say, explaining what I’d found. “Having so much information on everyone makes me uneasy. This feels like an invasion of privacy.”

  Mirzayael doesn’t seem nearly as bothered. “Seems rather useful, actually.”

  “Would you like this information being gathered about you in any of the cities we visit?” I counter. “Gathered without you even knowing?”

  Her enthusiasm sours. “I see your point. But is there anything to be done about it?”

  I hesitate, scanning the spell. That’s something I don’t currently have an answer for. “A problem for another day,” I reluctantly admit. It would take too long to dig into it now. But it does present an opportunity where the champions and gods are concerned, at least.

  I select Aquenno’s name from the surveillance spell and add it to the filter list. I pause, but nothing else happens. Was that it? Did it work? Or does the spell need to “reboot” for the updated parameters to go into effect?

  “Okay,” I say, opening my eyes. “Aquenno. See if you can pass through the barrier now.”

  He frowns. “But you haven’t done anything.”

  “Just give it a try,” I insist.

  He turns his frown on the barrier, hesitantly stepping forward and holding out a hand. The barrier begins to crackle as his fingers hover above it. He hesitates, then places his hand against the magic.

  Aquenno yelps as he leaps back.

  “Are you alright?” I ask, automatically Checking his HP: it’s 148/150. I let out a relieved breath.

  “Fine,” the champion says. “Just startled.”

  Mirzayael plants her hands on her hips, looking moderately impressed. “It worked.”

  “Excellent!” Lisari cries. “Now add Lorata. Oh, and remove me, while you’re at it.”

  “I’m not sure it works that way,” I say hesitantly. I sort through the surveillance spell’s list and find both Blair and Shirasil. I also find Zetaru, Yua Tin’s champion. But no other gods (to my relief).

  “It seems the metrics we can filter by are limited by what’s logged in the spell’s history.” I remove Aquenno’s name from the filter. “The good news is that this solves the shared-name problem: the spell can filter out select individuals.”

  “Fascinating!” Lisari claps her hands together. “What an interesting dilemma.”

  “Dilemma?” Mirzayael repeats. “This is good news. We can precisely choose who we let into the city and who we keep out.”

  “Only after they’ve visited,” I emphasize. Aquenno grunts with a wince—he seems to understand the implications of this as well. “They won’t be logged by the spell until they pass within its range. Which means we can block Lorata and any of the other gods from our city—but only after they’ve made it inside, first.”

  A look of dawning comprehension passes over Mirzayael’s face. “And until we log them…”

  “They’ll have free rein of the city,” I finish.

  Lisari laughs. “How fun! Well, you best be quick to react. A god can do quite a bit of damage in a few seconds.”

  I glance at the pile of rubble that Lisari climbed out of. Quite a bit of damage may be an understatement.

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