Rooks slept six to seven hours each night. It had always been plenty. She felt rested and ready, and she had three times as many hours, awake and waiting for the Volanter.

Somehow, the Volanter predicted the best time to attack. They picked the middle of Rooks’ sleep cycle. She hurried groggily to Fauchard’s bridge.

“How many ships?” She ran past the bulkhead and over the bridge’s threshold.

The lights felt too bright, and Rooks’ gaze went to the windshield. Darkness waited through the large glass and offered comfort to Rooks’ eyes, except for the enemy vessels she saw there.

“They sent five, only two as large as Fauchard. The other three are comparative in size to Bardiche.”

Rooks perked up. “That isn’t so bad. This must be their test to gage our abilities.”

Inez cleared her throat. “They’ll probably be pretty happy, once they see we only have six ships.”

“I imagine they will. If we hide our capabilities and defeat these ships with the least of our firepower, we might succeed in drawing them through the portal in small groups.” Rooks smiled and leaned against the rail.

“And, kill them little by little?” Inez’s eyes lit up.

“That would be the idea, but don’t get your hopes up.” Rooks shook her head. “I’m almost sure it won’t happen.”

It wasn’t about the size of the ships, and in some ways, it wasn’t about how many ships each side mustered. It was about magic; Volanter magic in all its incarnations against Iruedim’s. They would see which line of research proved superior.

Rooks checked her screen and saw everything as it should be. Fauchard, Bardiche, Guisarme, Voulge, Ranseur, and Corbin formed a small wall faced off against the Volanter, who had entered just behind Iruedim’s star.

On the other side of the battle, the five Volanter ships matched them. One of the large vessels faced the Fauchard. The second large ship threatened the Bardiche and Guisarme, and the three smaller vessels faced Voulge, Ranseur, and Corbin.

“We’re basically one to one,” Rooks said.

Officer Pari nodded.

“Inez, you’re our bridge mage. Pari, get the rest of our mages working.”

“They’re ready.”

“Good. And, our Lurrien ships? Fighters?” Rooks asked.

“Also, ready.”

Rooks had no real fighter pilots, at least, none from Girandola. They didn’t abandon the Finial with her. Rooks couldn’t blame them. No fighter pilot would leave their home space, knowing how little potential the new home had for space battles. It was anathema to their hopes and dreams.

Though, Rooks thought they’d missed out.

She had no classically trained pilots, but Iruedian mages filled the ranks, along with other eager space voyagers. Who knew? They might prove a better fit for her little fleet than the original pilots.

Coupled with aid from the Lurrien vessels, Rooks had a lot of little surprises and a lot of magic power hidden in those small vessels

“No small vessels from the Volanter? Fighters? Those riders?”

“No, ma’am. Not yet.”

Rooks leaned on her station and sighed. “Good. Maybe, I didn’t need to get dressed for this, or maybe I jinxed it. We’ll see.”

“I think you jinxed it,” Inez said, not taking her eyes from the tall windshield.

The Volanter opened the battle with the first shots. From what Rooks’ could see, those shots were magical in nature. They erupted from canons perched over the vessels’ hulls, and every canon showed a ring before it fired.

“Are those automated or manned?”

“Impossible to tell with foreign magic. But, I’m going to go with manned, since we see the rings.” Officer Miron was a mage from Ponk and one of the only Iruedians who aced his training enough to end up on the bridge.

Rooks hadn’t really expected any of the Iruedians to be experts in a year of study, but she was pleasantly surprised by their progress and their will to join her. She had her ships fully staffed and then some.

Miron reported, “Our shields – magical and otherwise – barely noticed those spells.”

“Really weak,” Inez agreed. “Should I start a spell?”

Rooks nodded. “Inez, start something small. Test them. Everyone else return fire, but you can be half-hearted about it. I suspect they know they caught us on night shift. Let’s make them feel safe enough to come close.” Rooks tapped her fingers on the console.

She thought the Volanter would be cautious on their first foray into Iruedim. The Halfmoon and its strange crew had blown up the Volanter paradise, safe for millennia out of the reach of other less magical species. Their entire population got crammed aboard ships, and their food sources came from whatever they could grow aboard the vessels. The Volanter had good reason to be cautious. The question was then, how did the Volanter do cautious?

Send everything they had, or send a few? A few – a very few – seemed to be the answer. Rooks thought it would be the opposite, given their behavior in their own territory.

Inez’s circle appeared just outside the windshield. It glowed; then shot a comet into space. A shield caught the comet before it touched one of the Volanter ships.

“What do think of their rings?” Rooks asked.

Inez blinked fast. “I see a lot of the double rings from the guns. The spell that just blocked my shield was a bit strange. It had the rays.” Inez shook her head. “It’s so bizarre.”

“I know, but remember, they thought Iruedian magic was bizarre.” Rooks stared at the half-hearted exchange of fire. “How do you think the rayed spells compare to the original Volanter circles – the simple rings of runes? Are they as strong?”

Inez shrugged. “I can’t really say. I don’t think so. Those original circles ask so much of the mage. That’s what makes them so strong. They rely on the caster to supply most of the power.”

“Not like an Iruedian single-ringed spell,” Rooks agreed.

“Yeah, we still put cheats and other help into our single rings, like the stars for rune connection.” Inez watched the windshield too, but she continued to speak. “More powerful mages will fare well with the Volanter’s original rings. They can make the spell as strong or as weak as they like, but I bet they tire easier. Weaker mages might as well add as many rings as they can. Even powerful mages are going to do better on endurance when they have more rings.”

Rooks glanced at Inez. “Would you say the Blath might have had the best potential in their research?”

Inez shrugged. “Maybe, but the rest of the Volanter hate all the sharp lines. So, I guess we get to keep it to ourselves.”

“They’re close enough,” Officer Miron called from below.

“Good. Send in our invisible fliers.”

In a still night, Camellia stood outside her house, sans Florian. He stayed late and got trapped at the AAH. No travel could move through Presereme.

The wind picked up and rustled trees around the edges of Camellia’s yard. She could see their figures well, lit only by lights in houses and lanterns in hand. Camellia carried no lantern. She wrapped a shawl around her shoulders and held the fabric tight over her nightdress.

Camellia gazed at the sky, and neighbors did the same. They all watched as lights sparked and lit the sparse cloud cover.

The Volanter had already come. Did Rooks call the Scaldin? Would they come? Would Meladee and Eva participate in the battle?

Camellia had washed her hands of the whole thing – a bit because she wanted to and a bit because she needed to.

Survival. It was an important part of a good life. It felt cowardly, but she had a lot more to lose.

“Is that coming our way?” A neighbor pointed at the sky.

Cries and garbled words reached Camellia’s ears. She followed the neighbor’s pointing finger and felt her mouth fall open.

One of those sparks grew bigger. It became a ball of light.

Camelllia and her neighbors scrambled for their individual basements. Camellia had left hers open, at least the outer entrance.

She hurried around the corner of her house, and the angled doors came into view. Grass squished beneath her bare feet, as she ran the last few steps. She bent and grabbed the door’s edge, hurried down the stone stairway, and pulled the door closed behind her. Gravity helped the slanted door fall into place. The latch followed. Camellia thumped the rest of the way down the stairs. She’d left a lantern in her basement, at the very center of the floor. Camellia hurried to that spot and picked up the lantern. She turned and faced the exit.

Against the walls, her personal restoration projects threw shadows in odd shapes.

“Florian, I hope you’re okay.” Camellia closed her eyes. “And, I hope our house is still standing after this.”

Who could say whether the projectile would be magical or technical or a little bit of both?

Camellia felt the ground shake, or she thought she did. They had a pretty great basement, with a strong foundation. Florian loved that feature of the house, despite the fact they used it as nothing more than a storage cellar.

The ground shook again, and this time, Camellia did not doubt it.

She put a hand over her mouth as a few more tremors shook her corner of Groaza. Then, it all went silent.

Camellia waited. Then, she waited some more.

Slowly, she padded over the cool stone. The silence persisted.

Camellia creaked up the stairs. She held her lantern high and undid the latch. She almost pushed the door open but hesitated.

If anyone should go outside, it should be me. The rest of the neighbors should wait longer, but I’m a dhampir. I’ve evolved to survive in hostile conditions.

Camellia withdrew her hand. She probably shouldn’t, given that her child was less dhampir than her and not even fully formed. Then again, her son wore her like a suit of armor, and she was not a fragile thing – not at night.

Just a peek. If there are flames and brimstone, I’ll close my door again and wait. Unless my house is on fire, in which case I should certainly leave.

It was decided. Camellia needed to check if her house was on fire. She pushed her door open.

The night lay still. Camellia started up the stairs, almost disappointed to see everything so unchanged. She held her land out and cast the light around the backyard.

The trees kept silent watch. Bushes squatted low and still. The wind didn’t move.

Camellia stepped onto cool grass. She whirled and checked her house. At such a near distance, it loomed overhead. She backed up and took in more of its corners and high roof. Nothing burned, but she smelt fire.

Camellia padded around the house. Then, she gasped.

A few small pieces of shrapnel burned on her lawn. Wind finally blew and pushed the fire close to the ground. It threatened to catch up more of the grass, but the new flames didn’t take.

Camellia left her lantern on a stone and snatched up a nearby bucket. She ran to her house’s side and hooked the bucket on the outer tap. With a twist of the spigot, water flowed inside. Her heart hammered above the sound, and the gush of water seemed distant. It seemed to take ages to fill, but Camellia heard the water grow deep. She closed the spigot and hefted the bucket. She ran to the first small fire and dumped the water out. Droplets splashed her dress. The rest hit the mark. The fire quenched, and smoke curled up. Camellia ran back to the tap and refilled that bucket. She poured it over ever fire, until little curls of smoke announced their demise.

She saw a few other fires, smoldering in neighbor’s lawns, but they would have to come out and deal with those. Because right in the middle of the road, Camellia saw it.

The fire that had burned at the base of it dissipated, dying in the dirt.

Camellia brought her bucket and its remaining water to its side anyway.

I know this thing. The communication device that I saw on the Volanter ship.

Camellia touched her cheek and stood before it.

It had survived the fall and landed right beside her house. With a shaky hand, Camellia touched a few keys. To her surprise, the runes glowed, and the screen spewed words in Volanter.

Neighbors started to emerge from their houses. Camellia had only a vague awareness of their efforts to quench fires on their lawns. One neighbor laughed at them all as he stood on his hardscaped property. Once the laughing stock of the neighborhood, he was the man everyone wanted to be tonight.

Camellia, however, paid the drama little attention. She stroked the edges of the control panel and its keys. She read the words that appeared on the screen. They seemed to be directions.

Camellia placed her hand on a pad to get a closer look at the tiny type that not even her dhampir eyes could see perfectly.

The pad lit up. Camellia backpedaled.

The screen flashed, and new words appeared. These she could read from a distance: Is anybody out there?

The invisibility spells lasted long enough to surprise the Volanter ships at close range. After that, the Volanter dispelled the effects or located the Iruedian ships by their magical discharge. In a few cases, the invisibility spells died on their own.

With all the invisibility gone, Rooks could see a full battlefield.

The Lurrien vessels and the little fighters swarmed the Volanter. Rooks ordered the windshield shaded. The magical light set off bursts from every corner of the view. Rings became obscured behind effects or other rings.

The Volanter began to fall back, and Rooks realized they’d done too much. She would never convince the Volanter that Iruedim was not a major threat now.

“To all fighters and Lurrien vessels, stick to smaller spells and fall back.”

Most obeyed. Those that didn’t had to fall back anyway, abandoned as they were by their peers.

“Where are the familiar riders?” Rooks asked.

“No riders,” someone reported.

“Get everyone back here,” Rooks called.

The ships streamed back. The Lurriens came most willingly. The fighters seemed to pout all the way. Only a few ships got caught in the large Volanter spell.

The ring appeared before the Volanter fleet of five and sent out a shockwave that caught six or seven fighters and rendered them still.

“Inez, I need that effect countered.”

Inez worked a spell of her own. She cast the four ringed creation out ahead of the Fauchard. It glowed and remained in place. Wiggling lines extended from the spell and pulled four of the six ships back.

Rooks guessed a magnet.

A second huge ring sent a shockwave through space. Two Iruedian fighters shattered. Rooks felt the Fauchard rock, and she saw the Volanter vessels rock harder still.

“The next time they don’t use their fighters, we shouldn’t either,” Rooks said. “Who’d we lose?”

“They haven’t all reported in yet.”

Renewed spell craft from the Iruedians followed.

Rooks didn’t order it, but she allowed it.

One Iruedian, aboard a fighter, duplicated the Volanter shockwave. The Iruedian version sent a streak down one Volanter ship. The hull prickled, releasing bits of itself. Another version of that spell followed, pulling more from the Volanter ship. The Iruedian mages echoed the spell down their line and aimed it at the great ship.

The Volanter fell back. Their wormhole opened. Rooks watched the four Volanter ships flee. The fifth struggled to get through the wormhole, losing pieces of itself the whole way. Eventually, the wormhole blinked out. The fifth ship didn’t make it.

In all directions, the ship shattered, not much of a ship anymore. Slag moved above and below the Fauchard. Little impacts hit their shields, and most of the slag got caught.

“Try not to let anything get through to Iruedim,” Rooks ordered.

The crew scrambled to obey, but a quick glance at her screen showed that several pieces headed down to Iruedim’s northern hemisphere, mostly into the sea between Tagtrum and Groaza.

“That was great spell writing,” Inez said. “Completely turned that stupid shockwave on them.”

“Hmmm.” Rooks hummed to herself.

The Volanter could match them for power but not so much for versatility.

“I wish we hadn’t done that. They have a very clear idea of our abilities.” Rooks crossed her arms.

Inez’s mouth formed a little ‘O.’

“See anything else interesting, Inez?” Rooks asked.

Inez closed her mouth before she answered, “I saw a lot of different ring types. Very little of the single rings. I’m guessing they’re too hard for this bunch.” Inez shook her head. “I have no clue what all of it means just yet, but if we can effectively mirror their shockwave, they might not do it again. I could write a big version.”

“Do that.” Rooks looked over the rail. “Any reports of casualties on the planet?”

“The slag hit parts of Groaza from Gotic to Presereme, but no one died – as of yet.”

“The Adalhards live in Presereme. Update me when you get new information.”