Bone, Fog, Ash & Star by Catherine Egan

diving at the chanting Mancers. Five voices spoke a word together in the Language of First Days: Bind . It was the final word of a spell prepared in advance. The ravens were gone, not a cry, not a feather. A ring of fire appeared around Eliza’s waist. From this ring a shimmer of light emanated, surrounding her like a shell. She touched her hands to it and withdrew them with a sharp cry. It was white hot.
“What’s going on?” she asked in a high voice, despising herself for the fear she knew they could hear and sense. “What are you doing?”
“Excuse these extreme measures,” began the manipulator of metal a bit sheepishly. The manipulator of wood said gruffly, “Hush,” and the other fell silent. They turned and left.
“Help me!” shouted Eliza, without really meaning to. After all, who would help her here? Her voice bounced thinly inside the barrier, contained. She knew without trying that she could not do any Magic that would penetrate it. This was no ordinary barrier. She did not cry for help again. Now that the shock of it had passed she was more angry than afraid. There was nothing to do but wait and stay calm, if that were possible. Whatever they intended, she did not think they could be planning to hurt her.
Hours passed. The sun rose. No one came.
~~~
Finnis, manipulator of water, hurried across the grounds. He had been summoned to the Supreme Mancer’s study. Last night before sundown he had felt something terrible, something that had turned his blood cold, cloaked in a heavy secrecy. He did not know what it was but he had been unable to sleep and had considered going to see the Emmisarius of water. In the end he had been too shy to disturb Foss at night, so he remained sleepless and unsure until morning. In his morning trance, the black crab raced along the sand, the tide close behind, and as it ran the crab swelled to twice its normal size. The vision had been full of fear but told him nothing useful. Should he mention it to the Supreme Mancer? But perhaps it was nothing. Finnis was still a novice, only recently granted full Mancer status and allowed to partake in the daily goings on of the Citadel. He did not wish to be seen as immature or easily shaken. He feared that perhaps his poor sleep had disturbed the others and he was to be reprimanded. He knocked on the wall. A door opened and he entered.
Four of the Emmisariae stood before the Supreme Mancer’s desk: Ka, Anargul, Obrad, and Trahaearn. When he entered, they stepped aside for him. It was not Aysu seated behind the desk as he had expected. It was Kyreth. Finnis froze, paralyzed by his confusion.
“Welcome, Finnis,” said Kyreth in his deep voice. “I apologize for the disruption last night. I imagine you slept poorly.”
“Yes,” said Finnis weakly.
“My fault,” said Kyreth with a swift, crumbling smile. “Matters got out of hand. Foss destroyed the Vindensphere. He is in the dungeons awaiting charges. Aysu is missing and we suspect he had something to do with it. It would appear we are in need of a new Emmisarius immediately. I wish to offer the position to you.”
Finnis did not know what to say. It was absurd, a joke, surely. But no, they looked too somber for that. What could he say?
“I…I would be happy to accept. Such an honour.” He looked around at the others, who were regarding him calmly. “But surely Foss would never wish any harm to Aysu?”
He could not help saying it. The idea was ludicrous, after all. A slight tremor ran through the room and the others averted their eyes. Kyreth rose to his feet and came slowly round to the front of his desk, where the Emmisariae stood. Finnis wished he could unsay the words. But the Supreme Mancer spoke as if he had not heard them: “I am glad that you have joined us. You are young, but most promising, Finnis. I have had my eye on you. I think you will do well.”
His eyes fell on Anargul then. She dropped her head. Finnis saw she was mortally afraid.
“I do not wish to hold