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I ’m confused,” Chester says, swiping his key card to unlock the prison’s door and ushering Roma inside. “I thought you said the spells down here wouldn’t work for the mission?”

Roma skirts through the entrance and sticks closely to Chester’s side as he strides down the hallway, keeping her eyes focused straight ahead and not on the endless line of cells to her right. “It’s more that I didn’t want us to use them than that we can’t use them. Do you remember the WMSA from spellcasting class?”

He squints at her. “The what?”

“The Written Magic Standardization Act.” She and Chester round the corner, and she determinedly ignores the cell where the neophyte demon from midtown is being held. “It was a global magic agreement from 1446, shortly after the printing press was invented. Once spellcasters realized that spell books could be mass-produced and potentially fall into novice hands, they decided to create a piece of legislation to prevent any avoidable catastrophes.”

Chester nods slowly, swiping his key card at the spellcasting library and motioning for Roma to walk in ahead of him. “I think I remember a little bit. It required all written spells to have counterspells in the same book, right?”

“Within five printed pages,” Roma confirms. “And there were other stipulations, too?—to clarify whether a spell was specific to human or demon magic, to warn if it shouldn’t be performed near a magic reservoir…” She walks over to the shelves, grabbing a few familiar titles. “Basically, they wanted to make sure no one would do anything too stupid and lead to the persecution of spellcasters. It was one of the few pieces of legislation that both humans?—including hunters?—and demons signed without a fuss.”

Chester eyes Roma’s stack of spell books as she walks back to the table. “Let me guess. All of these were written before 1446?”

“Yep,” Roma says, easing herself into a chair. “That doesn’t mean their spells are particularly complicated or dangerous, though?—it just means that they don’t have the default WMSA warnings.”

Eyebrows furrowing, Chester pulls out the chair opposite her. “But you think they’re safe enough to use?”

Roma winces. “‘Safe’ is a strong word to use with any spellcasting, but?—but I think they should be passable with proper precautions, yes.” She opens the top book to a page she remembers and swivels it around to face him. “For example, this is a pre-WMSA rift-opening spell. No counterspell, no other warnings.”

“But you should never attempt a spell without knowing its counterspell,” Chester says. “I might have slept through most of spellcasting class, but I remember that much.”

“That’s the trick,” Roma says. “Counterspells don’t always have to be perfectly specific to the spells they’re reversing?—like, under normal circumstances, the Sanctum’s blocking spell can reverse the vast majority of rift-opening spells. Point-by- point counterspells are the gold standard, but they’re not always necessary.”

Chester’s expression clears. “So you and Laguerre can still use the blocking spell and the disconnecting spell to close a pre-WMSA rift?”

“Theoretically, yes. Like we’ve seen, the blocking spell doesn’t close all rifts?—just most of them. But every spell contains the seeds of its own reversal, so if I can match enough nuances between our current rift-opening spell and a hypothetical pre-WMSA one, then we’ll be almost certain that our rift- closing spells will still work. Basically, I can check the counterspell without even casting the spell.”

Chester grins. “Brilliant, as always.”

Roma chokes on a laugh. “Locke.”

“What? It’s true! You’re one of the Redwater Sanctum’s best spellcasters, bloodlines be damned. If anyone can pull this off, it’ll be you,” he says, and suddenly, he frowns. “But what about the rest of the WMSA? Especially the warnings about magic reservoirs? I could see the Deep getting angry if you crossed it.”

“Trust me, messing with the Deep is the last thing I want to do,” Roma says. “And, frankly, it probably would be the last thing I ever did?—Sanctum hunters have a particularly bad track record with trying to access the Deep. But I can check for that by matching nuances between our current spell and a new one, too. That science is less exact?—there can be false negatives?—but, statistically speaking, only two percent of all spells shouldn’t be performed near magic reservoirs. That gives me enough confidence to use these.”

Chester looks fascinated. “Sounds solid. Can I help?”

“Hm…” Roma eyes her spell books. “Not this time. I learned nuance analysis in one of my advanced spellcasting classes, and you never took those.” She winces. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have dragged you down here with me. You can??—?”

“No, this is fine,” Chester says, and to Roma’s surprise, he pushes himself to his feet, strolls over to a shelf, and grabs a spell book like he’s already familiar with it. “I’ve been doing some reading in here lately, anyway.”

Intrigued, Roma leans forward to peer at the book. The title itself is nearly illegible, dull and faded from centuries of use, but when Chester flips it open, Roma sees a few familiar words. “Isn’t that… demon magic?”

“Yep,” Chester says, and he turns it around so she can see better. “Remember how I told you that I’ve been researching the demon gods? Well, I exhausted most of our resources in the main library, so I decided to do a deep dive down here, instead.” He grins. “And I hit the jackpot. Demon magic has different bases, just like human magic, and they invoke the gods’ names in almost all of them?—mainly Nostringvadha, but there are hints of The Fourteen as a unit, too. That means I can pick up a lot of information just from context clues.”

Slowly, Roma nods. “Impressive.”

Chester ducks his head, embarrassed. “Thanks. I just have some questions about the demon gods that no one seems to be able to answer, you know?” His jaw twitches. “Especially about Nostringvadha. The fact that we as hunters are ignoring that there’s a demon god on Earth just seems reckless to me.”

Huh. Roma never really thought about it like that. After all, Nostringvadha has stayed hidden for so many millennia that he never even crossed Roma’s mind as a threat. “I think you missed your calling as a Nostringvadha scholar.”

“I wish. From what I’ve read, they’re mostly based in Canadian Sanctums, not U.S. ones.” He smiles mirthlessly. “But that’s okay. I pick up plenty of intel from my interrogation shifts, too. How about you tell me if you find any interesting rift-opening spells, and I’ll tell you if I find any fun facts about Nostringvadha?”

“Deal,” Roma says, and they bump fists across the table before falling into companionable silence, absorbed in their respective spell books.

Roma scribbles quick notes in the pad she brought, frowning at the page in front of her. Checking spells for shared nuances is hypothetically a simple task?—it mostly involves matching words, phrases, syllables, intonations, and other syntactical aspects of the incantation?—but there’s a lot of room for error. Roma got the best marks in her class on their nuance analysis exam, and even she only got an eighty-two.

And, importantly, this is the first time she’s ever tried it with a pre-WMSA spell. Hell, it’s the first time she’s even considered using a pre-WMSA spell. Magic didn’t change dramatically in 1446, but her instructors always warned her to leave older spells to only the most advanced spellcasters.

But what if you’re wrong?

Naomi always told her to avoid them, too. Roma scowls at the thought, deciding to scrap this rift-opening spell when it’s clear that most of its nuances don’t match their current one. Obviously, she isn’t the best spellcaster the world has ever seen, but she’s definitely one of the best in Redwater?—maybe even in the state. With sufficient preparation, she thinks she can handle a pre-WMSA spell.

Especially since she won’t be the only one looking it over. She’s planning to ask Nasir for feedback on the new spell?—including her nuance analysis?—in her next weekly report, and hopefully, the councilwoman will commission a few other advanced spellcasters to triple-check Roma’s work.

Roma would never risk giving Chester and Bryant a spell that could hurt them.

Her next three spell options are resounding negatives?—there are certain magic bases that she can’t use, just because her Sanctum enchantments interact with them?—but her eyebrows creep upward as she works through one from The Magic-Weaver’s Companion. Even though it’s fairly different from their current rift-opening spell on a surface level, the nuances and deeper principles are nearly identical. More importantly, it relies on a magic base that’ll be less taxing for Chester and Bryant, and??—

Abruptly, there’s a strangled shout from the hallway. Chester rockets to his feet a split second before Roma does, an escrima stick already in his hand. “The hell?” he asks sharply, jogging towards the door.

Hastily, Roma summons her ax from its gap in spacetime and scrambles to follow him. “That sounded human.”

Chester’s eyes are dark. “I’ve already dealt with far too many jailbreaks down here lately,” he says, and before Roma can react, he wrenches open the door and disappears into the hall.

Roma’s stomach drops. “Locke!” she hisses, following him out and checking his blind spots. Damn it, Chester means well, but he doesn’t have a strike team operative’s instincts?—and, above all, it’s only two of them against an unknown threat. “We need to sound the alarm.”

“Already did,” Chester says, and he taps the back of his neck. “Interrogators are all patched into an alarm spell network. The others should be shutting this place down as we speak.” He checks both directions, his frown deepening. “Which way did that shout even come from?”

“I don’t know. I??—?”

What are we going to do about the neophyte in the prison?

Don’t worry about it. You just keep your head down and be a good little lackey.

Roma’s blood runs cold. A jailbreak? Was Ez implying that she was going to spearhead a jailbreak? Is this going to be like the Cassius Chin incident all over again?

More importantly, is JJ going to be here?

No time to wonder about that now. Guilt twisting through her, Roma points down the hallway, towards the cell that houses the neophyte demon from midtown. “Maybe that way?”

Chester falls into step next to her without question, the two of them creeping down the hallway side by side. Roma’s heart drops when she sees that multiple cell doors are open, not just the neophyte’s, and??—

A blur of bloodred shoots past Roma. Her ax swing is far too slow to hit the demon before it tackles Chester to the floor, knocking him out cold and making his escrima stick clatter down the hall.

Anger roars through Roma. “Don’t touch him!” she snarls, and she sprints forward, aiming her next slice at the demon’s throat. It dodges in the nick of time, whirling around to face Roma with a growl, and all at once??—

All at once, Roma recognizes it. The size of a lion with the body of a dire wolf, its proportions horribly skewed and nightmarish, two-inch-long fangs jutting from its jaws??—

“Ez?” she hisses.

Ez only hesitates for a split second before lunging. Roma’s shout is lost as the floor rushes up to meet her, her ax barely managing to graze Ez’s side on the way down??—

Her skull hits the ground hard, and the world blinks into darkness.

The next time her eyes open, it’s to see one of the prison’s purebred spellcasters kneeling over her and to hear Chester’s scared voice to her left. “Is she going to be okay? Is she??—??”

“She’s fine,” the spellcaster?—Amani, Roma believes?—says, and she snaps her fingers. Roma fights back a wince as the last of her headache dissipates in a rush of pins and needles, leaving her faintly nauseous in its wake. “Good as new. Right, Gutierrez?”

“Right,” Roma agrees dazedly, and she tries not to gag as Chester and Amani help her sit up. “What happened?”

“Security breach.” Chester’s voice is grim. “Looks like it was Smith and Laguerre again. No sign of Chin or?—or anyone else.”

No JJ. Roma doesn’t know whether to be relieved or disappointed. “What’d they take? Or?—or who’d they take?”

As an answer, Chester points silently at the line of cells to their right. Roma’s heart drops.

Every single door is gaping open. Some of them were unlocked normally?—probably from a stolen interrogator’s key ring?—but the last few were ripped apart by force, clearly torn open in the middle of a battle. When Roma whips her head around to check the other direction, it’s to see that those cells didn’t fare any better. “Shit.”

“You can say that again,” Amani says, pushing herself to her feet. “Looks like you two were the first to respond. Activating the alarm spell was a good call.”

The words are directed towards Roma, just like most words are when she’s accompanied by Chester. Bitterness snakes through her. “That was Locke,” she says pointedly. “I’m not patched into the prison’s spell network, remember?”

Amani’s eyes flicker towards Chester for a brief moment. “Ah,” she says, and she takes a measured step back. “Councilwoman Nasir wants to see you both in her office to debrief. I need to go help the infirmary’s spellcasters with the rest of the wounded.”

Roma’s stomach roils as Amani turns on her heel and jogs away. “How many injuries?”

“Too damn many,” Chester says, and he pushes himself to his feet, offering her a hand. Gratefully, Roma takes it, letting him haul her up. “Nothing that can’t be fixed by an overnight in the infirmary, though, and no deaths. Smith and Laguerre were probably trying to avoid a war.”

Roma bites back a grimace. “And they took everyone? All the prisoners?”

“All the ones in holding cells, at least. They didn’t have enough time to break into the interrogation rooms.” Chester winces. “But that leaves us with less than ten demons in the entire prison. And considering how keen the Council has been on our testing program lately…”

Roma swallows hard. “They’re going to start sending us on more missions.”

Or maybe they’ll just get the Chain to send them more demons.

Mortified, Roma shoves the thought from her mind. “All right. I don’t think either of us saw much, but let’s get to Nasir’s office and tell her what we know. And make it clear that you activated the alarm spell, understand?” she adds, eyes narrowing. “The damage probably would’ve been far worse without that, Locke. You should be proud of yourself.”

A grin jumps onto Chester’s face. “Thanks, Gutierrez,” he says, and he stays close next to her as they start down the ruined hallway.

Roma does her best to ignore the empty cells, but she can’t fight back the drumbeat of guilt behind her ribcage. Ez orchestrated this jailbreak on Roma’s intel, hurt her fellow hunters on Roma’s intel??—

She got the neophyte from midtown out of here on Roma’s intel. And that, Roma realizes with a jolt, is probably why Ez and Obie took all the demons?—it would’ve looked too suspicious for them to know that the neophyte was here after ostensibly being delivered to the Chain. A full-scale prison break gives all of them plausible deniability if any of their superiors start asking questions.

Roma can only hope it’ll be enough to keep them both out of trouble. Taking a deep, steadying breath, she lifts her chin and follows Chester out of the prison.

After she reports to Nasir, she’ll head straight back down here to complete her nuance analysis on that Magic-Weaver’s spell. The sooner she can put this mission behind her, the better.