Amina could've stewed on her frustration for hours, but fortunately distraction was swift to present itself. The external noise crested, tumultuous with fear and adrenaline and magic, punctured with inhuman squeals that unfurled her from within herself. A flinch slithered through her, like cold fingers tracing the back of her neck. She sensed Isra straighten even further, shoulders and biceps tense as wire, and let tension crawl through her own muscles. She didn't often get the chance to skirt near breaches. The sound pooled twin itches in her palms, like the air itself had thinned, woven into stringy strands that twisted tangibly around her fingers.

At the furthermost corner to the city's edge, Isra placed a hand on Amina's chest, shunting her back into an abrupt halt. Her gaze was a new side of serious now—less harsh in its cut, more level, flat as slate. "Wait here. Observe from a distance if you wish, but do not come any closer. I'll collect you once the situation is dealt with."

With that, she vanished, a pinch of dust readied between her sharp fingers as she darted out onto the open sand. The moment her eyes were elsewhere, Amina stepped forward.

Sandbrick nestled up against her forearm and brushed roughly against her fingers as she peered around the wall's angular face, careful to maintain her skulking crouch to disguise herself in its shade. Her dress's crooked skirt shied close to her legs. Steadying her breath, she shifted far enough to allow the scene to fully unfurl before her.

Sand swirled in a yellowish haze, overlaying the tangle of human and inhuman, as much clutter for the eyes as the piercing shrieks and shouts were for her ears. The former was a product of the tirade of beasts that had charged beyond the city's scant border. They were strips of limber, clacking bone, formed of hard brown abdomens and dozens of partitioned limbs, each lined at the foot by miniature razors that swept crevices into the ground with every step. Spined tails dyed a bulging red at their ends waved in menace, their movements wild and seething with blind aggression. Rounded eyes balanced upon stalks waggled and blinked. Nearest Amina, one beast sank back onto its scrawny haunches, clicking mandibles raised high enough to clip her nose off. Some of its companions that bore its silhouette beyond were even bigger.

Against her will, her pulse fluttered, stirring up the flowery, delicate feeling of vulnerability. She stood her ground nonetheless. Ferocious a presence as the beasts held, they were only sticks and bone, and it wasn't long before they screamed.

Yellow-cloaked figures swamped the creatures, multiplying by the second as more mages responded to the call. Streaks of colour dominated the cloudy haze. The nearby beast sprung from its crouch only to meet an outstretched hand wielding a wall of silver, shimmering dust, jewelled glints of mirrored light that rushed forward along with a howling breeze that leapt up from nowhere at all. Even from where she stood, Amina felt chilled fingers brush her cheek and yank at her headpiece's golden loops, forcing her to readjust where it sat atop her bunched, fraying curls, although the breath of wind she experienced must've been nothing compared to the power that assaulted the beast. As if the air itself were made of sharpened, wicked metal, it shredded through skinny limbs and tore wide eyes from their sockets, hardly leaving room for a scream before noise too was dismembered. The thing collapsed in a barely recognisable heap several paces away, a ragged, skeletal pile, leaking whitish liquid out onto the sand.

Panting hard, the mage who'd done the deed lowered her hand. She was quick to twist away to face another opponent, but Amina looked long enough to catch the grim spark of satisfaction that brightened her gaze; spilled like glitter, it lit up her face and shone around her in an unseen aura, like the dust's delight wove away any lingering trails of shadow. Amina let a smirk cut into her cheek, excitement of her own tumbling through her along with a glowing hint of pride.

Nothing stood against her people. And, one day—a day soon, if she could finally have her way—she would be one of those mages, guardian of the city, battling back these disgusting creatures that could only ever quietly click and hiss their meagre threats against Tehazihbith's steadfast peace.

Lightning fizzed up her nostrils as the bladed scent of smoke scissored through the air, mixed in with another ear-splitting shriek. Further past the border, a beast's corpse shrivelled into a blackened, charcoal pile, spitting out a fountain of ash and smoke. Isra stood, a slender smudge of green-yellow, amid the grey clouds. Trails of smoke wavered around her as she leapt back, rolling into a crouch that narrowly yanked her out of the path of another charging beast, this one boasting a stronger shape and an extra pair of plated legs. Amina straightened, interest snared immediately by the newcomer. Alarm skittered down her spine in phantom warning.

There was something different about the way this creature moved. Unlike the brainless tumble of movement that drove its peers into chaos, seemingly blind to consequence and set only on violence, there was an air of decisiveness that tugged it forward in slow, planned steps. An uneven scuttle of limbs led it into the shadow of the watchtower, where its eyes rotated in surveillance. Heart speeding up, Amina threw a glance at Isra, half-hoping her gaze alone could hook her mentor's attention, but Isra was already occupied in battling another pair of creatures—ones that appeared at just the right time, noisily clacking mandibles and stamping an array of spined feet, as if they were acting as shield.

Frowning, Amina gave her head a hard shake. She was overthinking this. Beasts didn't plan, didn't possess the complexity of mind to protect one another or bow to authority. Did they?

She stared at the skulking beast, spine chilling further until she was a rod of ice, weighted in place. Her skin felt sticky. This was new, and it prised open an unwelcome packet of fear.

Tension hardened her stance. Her fists clenched, and she wished again in a hot rush that she had dust of her own to wield.

The beast's eyes settled in juddering succession, one at a time: first the left swivelled, then the right. The figure they zeroed in on stood out like flame; garbed in sunset-orange against the muted yellow of the rest of the mages, she spun a complex circle in the air before landing neatly on her toes, movements like a dance. Safiya, a long-serving senior. Honed skill rippled the very air around her, but her back was turned to the eyes that watched her so pointedly. She wouldn't see the danger until it was too late.

Amina was aware of the ache in her chest from a breath held too long, painfully conscious of the way her heart beat like a drum in her throat, but she didn't recall deciding to move. All she knew was that suddenly she was speeding across the sand, her yell of warning torn to shreds on her tongue as the wind rushed at her face, cloak spilling out so far it yanked at her neck.

The beast pounced. Its shadow slithered forward, settling over Safiya like a dark, open maw, a cavern about to topple inward. Amina ran faster. Her hand stretched out, but she was too late.

Safiya's sleeve tangled with her fingertips and then tore away; the senior was down, pinned by two spiked feet, loosing a skin-prickling shriek. Blood sprayed the sand in a dark crescent. Her cloak lay in shreds, strips of it hanging from the beast's spines and flapping like flags, like warning flashes of an inferno. Fire crackled in Amina's core. Frantic, she skidded to a halt, gaze raking over the glittering clothing that clung to Safiya's fragile form, sewn-in jewels winking at her as if they mocked her desperation.

A strap crossed Safiya's chest. A satchel slung past her shoulder, spilling a fine mound of dust. In that moment, Amina could have sworn it sang, a chanted verse that rose until she felt it beat in her throat.

She snatched up a fistful and, without letting herself slow, leapt forward. Safiya's gasp sounded from behind her, though she barely heard it over the rhythmic noise that lay somewhere between her heart and the tingling magic trickling through her fingers. The beast reared over her. Its eyes were wet, plunging black pools in their centres, devoid of emotion. Crimson leered between them. That glistening, throbbing, venomous tail, already bent in a downward arc, precisely intended to suck the life from a senior mage. But Amina stood in the way.

She stood in the way. She could die, right now.

She had just enough time to process that icy drip of a thought, to drown in it, lungs full of frost, but her instincts chose to listen to the song instead. Her hand thrust forward. Her palm unfurled. Dust clouded the dry air, and flames ripped through her.

Her skin became sandpaper, struck and struck until raw, but still she pushed. The fire was felt rather than seen. Tongues of it licked her limbs, and when it snatched a taste of the air, it burned gold. It was a blazing burst of sunlight that devoured the beast, gnawing first at its tail but quick to spread. Thick drips of crimson spattered the sand, but they weren't blood.

The beast was melting.

"Take that," Amina ground out, "you... ugly freak of nature." Her voice slurred.

She pitched forward onto her knees, caked in sweat. Her hand fell limp at her side. Its muscles were squeezed until brittle, and her fingers were leaden. When she exhaled, she was sure she tasted smoke, and it nearly made her retch. Heat ached in her bones, dragging her down. Black forks swayed into her vision. The song was a whistle now, fading in and out, sometimes lurching so close it sounded like it had words.

"I've never seen something like that before."

Amina flinched. The song dipped too low to detect, and the world flooded back in to replace it, thick and hot. Feeling as if the entire sky sat on her shoulders, she twisted to look behind her. Safiya was watching her, the creased lines of her face pulled at by wincing pain but eyes wide with awe. "How did you do that?"

Amina searched for feeling in her lips. "I just..." Her mind went blank. What had she done?

Arms latched under her armpits and hauled her to her feet. She stumbled, not prepared for her own weight, and one of those arms wrapped her shoulders. A man's voice angled into her ear. "Relax, brave Miss. I'll help you get somewhere safe."

Being ordered to relax was not her idea of help. She squirmed free and shoved at him, ignoring the feverish flush that climbed her cheeks. Her arms trembled as they lifted to balance her, and half a curse tripped from her lips, dissolved to numb silence partway through.

The man muttered a pathetic string of apologies, but she wasn't listening. In front of her, steam rose from a murky, dribbling puddle, curling around ashy scraps of bone and gristle. Beyond the dancing haze it formed, something moved behind the watchtower.

A dark something, sketched in a loose, humanoid shape. A someone.

Someone with an arm that bulged in all the wrong places and stuck out at sharp angles, coated in material too thick and hard to be clothing, a bony texture that mirrored the plated shell of the corpses that littered the battlefield all around her. Inhumanly slitted eyes flashed in her direction.

"Miss."

A jolt went through her, snapping her focus. Grounding herself in the press of her heels against the packed sand, she looked again.

The shadows were empty. But they hadn't been, just a moment earlier. Heart racing, she glanced around, mouth full of the scent of filth and char.

When the man's hand landed on her arm, she had to swallow a scream. His eyes were soft and kind, shimmering with tense hesitance. Shame squirmed in her stomach. For even a man to look at her as if she were delicate, she must've looked terrified. She fumbled over her tongue, grappling for some logic to explain her feelings, but she couldn't put into words what she'd seen.

"Miss, for your safety, we must go," he said.

Trapped in silence, all she could do was nod compliantly and allow him to tow her away.

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