“Over here.”

She reached out her hands and slowly searched the air.

“Here?” he asked.

“To your left.”

“You mean here?”

“Other left. My left, wait, never mind, that won’t work will it?”

“Here you are.” A hand suddenly wrapped around her waist. “Found you.”

“Unfind me right now, mister wizard.”

“Why should I do that?” was his flirty reply.

“Mudskipper.”

The hand vanished. Fingers wrapped around her arm, then slid to her wrist. From her left, she heard spellcasting. A tingling sensation flowed all the way to her toes. Suddenly, it felt like the ground beneath her feet vanished. She started to fall, but the firm grip on her wrist held her steady.

“Levitate for Ashhur’s sake, woman!” Tarlak said loud as he dared.

She closed her eyes and did the semantic components with her right hand. When the final words left her tongue, she floated up and off the ceiling.

“You have about a minute left,” Tarlak said. “Float on down and stay at the top of the room. I’ll be beside you.”

“No more whispering,” Aurelia said before dipping down. “They might hear.”

Then she was falling through the ceiling.

T ime to go?” Harruq asked.

“That’s just one group, no clue when others are showing up,” Brug argued from behind his barrel. “We wait until we get ourselves a signal.”

“What kind of signal is that?”

“Fire, screams, writing in the sky,” said Qurrah.

“Funny,” Brug grumbled.

“You’re not laughing.”

“Because it ain’t funny!”

“Stop lying then, and you’re being far too loud,” Harruq said. “How about we wait five more minutes?”

If anyone was bothering to count, and Qurrah was, it was the fifth time Brug’s face turned beet red from anger, embarrassment, or both.

“Both parties have arrived,” a voice whispered from behind them. “And I know of two-year-olds that make less noise than you three.”