Dragging over any nearby furniture and clutter, I barricade the door as best that I can. It probably won’t last long against the strong one, but even seconds may be valuable, depending on the situation. Next, I check the windows. Sadly, they’re all tightly welded shut. A security precaution? Do they really only have the one way in and out for this important figure?

  “Fras dur. Ood?” I beseech the solitary figure in the room.

  He appears like a big one so much that it’s hard to think of him as a potential friend or ally. However, exactly as before, the mind mud is totally silent on his destruction. Also, he knows of the pits. He wants me to go back to them. Will he help me?

  “There is only one exit,” the crackling voice croons. “Both for this room and your return. Why do you hesitate? It would have been preferable outside of the city. There will be questions here. You were advised to depart.”

  Cryptic nonsense again. Speak clearly! I’d love to get out of the city, but it’s far too late.

  “Wan gew. Non gew,” I clarify, hoping that I can coax him into doing something more helpful.

  “The Will precludes us from taking any direct actions. Our battle is one of words. We cannot help you in this matter.”

  “Spak dat!” I shout, eagerly pointing at the door. “Gew spak. Spak biguns. Spak non. Gib srktl–”

  I abruptly choke trying to get the last word out. It’s stuck and won’t come. What’s wrong? Searching the room, I scurry over to the desk in the back and grab a strip of paper. Then, after carefully dipping a claw into the nearby inkwell, I quickly scrawl out a message.

  “Gib der. Gib der!” I eagerly request, energetically pointing at the paper’s single, simple word: “Safety.”

  The figure quietly looks from me to the paper and back again before cocking its head in confusion at my presentation.

  “What does your kind care of safety?” the voice unblinkingly whispers.

  “Akgh!” I exclaim in frustration, throwing my hands in the air and tossing the paper.

  He may not be a true big one, but he’s just as useless. No friend. No brother! If brothers were here, they’d gather around me. They’d charge straight at the danger, and then I could run away, exactly like that last time.

  Pausing at the thought, I suddenly feel deeply saddened. Why did I run away? They died and I lived. Was that really ok? Was it wrong to run? Was it wrong to live?

  “Return to the pits,” the voice instructs again after seeing the confusion written on my face.

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  No! It wasn’t wrong. It was too late. If my brothers were still here and living, then I would rush in to help. I would defend them as I hope that they’d also defend me. Why wouldn’t they? We are one kind. However, should I defend if it’s hopeless? Should they? Is it hopeless now?

  “Return to the pits,” the voice repeats, still fruitlessly attempting to force the issue.

  No! I won’t allow it to be hopeless. Stupid universe, I’ll open another door myself. Quickly slipping down to the ground, I take a seat, fold my legs, and close my eyes. I must concentrate.

  There’s a single second tier spacial song I delayed learning because of all the warnings written in the books. The Arcane spacial ripping song is very, very dangerous. The precursor to cleanly tearing space is the simple act of forcing your way through with brute force. You twist and twist and twist as hard as you can until space can’t take it anymore. A ragged hole will be left in the center of the twist. A hole that will, in theory, be almost completely useless for anything but practice. Also, it’s almost impossible to reseal without a significantly greater control of space than any student would possess.

  Apparently when one ordinarily achieves a certain depth of spacial training, a senior teacher carefully guides you down this path. You connect local space, forcefully rip a hole, and then verify your ability to pass small objects back and forth. After each iteration, it’s the teacher’s responsibility to dispose of the rupture with a series of complex folds and knots. This prevents any potentially catastrophic accidents from someone unknowingly wandering into it.

  After all, rips are also used offensively to cause a great deal of damage to your opponents and their belongings. They may also be used to forcefully puncture pockets without bothering to manipulate a highly secure, twisted seal. That’s the very, very good reason that I avoided working with it in the library. However, here? Why not? What’s the worst that can happen? The best would be creating another door, exactly as I desire.

  First, I need to focus on connectivity. The other end of the hole needs to be somewhere safe. Snaking a series of stable tethers away from my body, I carefully feel out the boundaries of the room. To my shock, the floor, ceiling, walls, and windows are all surprisingly solid. There isn’t a single seam that the tiny tethers can squeeze through.

  “Why do you struggle? This room is highly secure. Even energy will only penetrate through the door by design.”

  Sullen at the unexpected turn, I forcefully refocus myself. I must take courage. I’ll search outside the door then. Who knows, maybe there’s actually somewhere safe and hidden out there within reach. Pulling the tethers all back and snaking them through the crack beneath the door, I take a peek outside.

  A very distraught guild staff member stands there next to the imposing strong one. He’s nervously surveying his surroundings, keeping watch while waiting for the partner to return. I wonder why he doesn’t enter? Is he really that afraid of the guild? What would they do to him?

  Slithering the tethers along the floor, I carefully reach up over the walkway’s railing and cautiously peer below. The anxious, bubbling crowd remains. If anything, it’s grown even more in this short time. The energy in the room borders on explosive. So many big ones and no place to go. The slightest thing might set them off. Trying my best to stretch out even more, I search for the partner. Maybe I can estimate how long I–

  “Are you kidding me?” the Kurt voice suddenly exclaims right before stomping on one of my tethers. “Sneaky little pup. You really think that you’re some clever spy, don’t you?”

  A shot of sharp pain shoots back into my body as the tether’s destroyed, and I immediately reel all the others back in as fast as I can. If I can’t seek a connection through the door, then what am I left with?