Banan laughed and applauded in the window across from me. Panicked screams came from below. The stage was collapsing on itself. My hand instinctively shot out to stop it. Four stories up made no difference. I’d always used gestures when moving anything bigger than myself; it helped me to focus my magic. The stage wasn’t a small object. The screams faded in my ears, and all I could hear was the hissing in and out of my own breathing. I didn’t know how long I’d be able to keep the stage from falling, but I suspected it wouldn’t be long. What I was doing was mind over matter. Problem was, my mind couldn’t get past how heavy that matter was. And I was doing it alone. No Saghred, just me. The new, improved, really scary me.

Mychael was helping Justinius Valerian off the stage. I had no idea how Mychael managed to steady them both on the pitching and collapsing platform, but he was paladin for a reason. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a crossbow bolt fly toward them. Valerian saw it, too. He viciously spat something at it and the bolt reversed direction and hit the sniper in the chest, sending him off the rooftop and down to the street.

The stage was coming down whether I wanted it to or not. Gravity would only be defied for so long. My hand shook violently as I let what was left of the stage come to rest on the cobbles, praying that everyone around the perimeter was out of the way. My breathing was ragged and I heard gasps and whimpers I dimly recognized as mine.

“Good job, ma’am,” I heard Vegard say. His voice was tight with awe and maybe fear.

Phaelan looked a little wild-eyed. “Shit.”