Chapter 21

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Hi,

Can something that is wrong be right and/or justifiable under certain circumstances? And if yes, are there any solid guidelines? These were questions I had in mind while editing this part. It really got me thinking. The ethical territory Anna's moving in is getting rocky. So, is she doing the right thing?

I hope you like this part! :-)

Lara

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Chapter 21

I blinked, stared at the stream of people in the street – none of them cowering, none of them screaming. No one even seemed to have noticed.

I stilled. What I was looking at was more than a boundary. It was a magical one-way glass, a specialty of the cloaking department in whose halls the most intricate of all spells had been crafted.

Spell. They must have used a spell. No way they could wield that much magic without a spell.

I turned, peered into the badly lit throat of the side-street. Shadows in a landscape of steel, dustbins overflowing with magical waste products, and brick walls covered with graffiti that might in truth have been magical runes.

The street was empty. At least to the human eye.

I knew better.

I reached for folded sub-realities blindly, lifted the veil to second sight and peered into the layers of reality lying underneath what human mind perceived as reality. Second sight snapped into place like a 3D film coming into existence in the deepest recesses of my mind.

A forest of disturbed particles. Lingering residues of power the black market kept leaking like a waste product. Nothing else.

My nerves were on edge. Where? Where were they?

Nothing. Empty, apart from... I jerked. Something in the periphery of my vision, a patch of red flashing up instants before-

The bolt came out of nowhere, parted air like a sword-sized razor blade. Air magic. I fed my shields with all I had, called magic from the deadened, jumbled plane of power around me. The magic came, volatile and in uncontrolled surges.

My wall of air was thick, bursting with power. The shaft of power buried itself in my shields, biting through with the viciousness of a lion's teeth. The shield trembled. It was the only warning I got.

The unthinkable happened: it shattered.

I dived to the side. The whoosh of sharp air cut past me, parting air like a set of steely razor blades. I hit the asphalt hard, rolled to my knees, peering through the veil of hair that had come undone. Seconds of indecision as another wall of air sprang up in front of me.

There was a side-street to my right, a rusty set of fire exist stairs to my left, and the seemingly impenetrable one-way glass behind. Three potential exit routes. None of them would do me any good if I didn't know where my enemies were. And I knew they were there.

I squeezed metaphorical eyes, pushing deeper in to sub-terrains that would show me the auras of my attackers. The world around me fell into a haze of gray, pixelated and fuzzy. Seemingly void of auras.

Come on!

I pushed pushed pushed, feeling the vertical fall as my mind plummeted into deeper recesses. The street looked like a new interdimensional lowland. We were so close to the black market, there were magical residues drifting all over the place. But there was more. Pulsing red to my left; to my right; in the front. All approaching with human-swift feet.

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