Glyphbinder by T. Eric Bakutis

kill her. He had hidden, waited, as she and her friends spent their blood and lives fighting a distraction. Now he planned to burn her alive.
    The mage dragged her to her feet. Kara felt thick hands on her arms as a horrible smell overwhelmed her nostrils, a smell like fish rotting in the hot sun. It made her gag and choke. Strange new blood glyphs appeared in the air, drawn by the mage’s invisible finger. Astral glyphs, for travel. Not heat.
    This man planned to abduct her, and the thought of what he might do to her made her thrash in his iron grip, thumping and biting at his arm. Would he erase her memories, like Trell’s? Would he scribe a demon glyph and feed her soul to the Underside?
    A shadow with a slick black ponytail slammed into Kara and the battlemage, mussing the battlemage’s blood glyphs before he could complete them. Kara tumbled to the tiles, still paralyzed by Osis, but she was free. Mercifully free.
    “Trell!” Kara screamed. “Be careful!”
    Trell and her abductor went to the ground in a tangle as Kara took the dream world — she had only just remembered mages concealed by astral glyphs shone there, bright as the sun — but she saw no mage. He had escaped, probably using more astral glyphs. New pins and needles poked Kara as Osis uncoiled from her heart.
    Trell scowled as he rose, casting about with his hands for the mage, but when he looked at her he stopped and nodded. It was like he could read her mind, like he knew that mage was no longer a threat. Shaved, dressed, and uninjured, he looked like an entirely different man from the crazed person who had come upon her at the Thinking Trees. Not bad looking at all.
    Kara tried to rise and couldn’t. Trell helped her up. He felt warm and strong.
    “Byn,” Kara rasped. She pointed.
    Together, she and Trell limped to where Byn was curled in a fetal position, a few paces from Sera. The air smelled like tar and burning ash. As they neared, Byn opened his eyes and sat up. Ash covered his skin, but he did not appear to be burned.
    “Olden’s shell.” He stared at his ash-covered hands. “I knew it, but I didn’t think it would actually work.”
    Kara pushed off Trell and landed on Byn, wrapping her arms around him with a tiny cry. Memories flooded her mind. Byn’s wide grin as he taunted her from across the tavern. His howl as she steered their small schooner into the high waves of the Northern Sea. She had known Byn since they were children and losing him now, thinking about his body burned to ash, made her feel like retching. She hugged Byn tight and didn’t let go.
    “Sera.” Kara gulped as she remembered. “Sera’s hurt.”
    “I’m fine,” Sera said. Kara looked up, still clutching Byn, and found Sera sitting beside them, hands pressed to her face.
    “Are you hurt?” Kara demanded. “Look at me!”
    Sera lowered her hands, fingers freshly cut. Her skin was wet, peeling, and red, but it was not charred. Somehow, despite the pain she was in, she had already fixed her own face.
    “I can’t feel my face,” Sera whispered. “Do I still have my face?” Her eyes were wide and wet.
    Byn hugged her and Kara hugged them both. “You’ve still got a face.  A beautiful face. We’re okay.”
    “Kara?” Trell said. “The elders approach.”
    Kara focused on others, on the world. It was hard with her head swimming and her body cold. She had spent a lot of blood just now, and her body didn’t like that. She would need a transfusion if she wanted to finish out the day anywhere other than a bed.
    Dozens of initiates, all gazing at the carnage, had re-entered the square, led by Journeymage Talbot. He nodded when he saw her, his jaw clenched, but he did not approach. Kara heard splashing from the fountain and turned to the water, a chill clutching her as she imagined Aryn rising again.
    Aryn hadn’t risen. He bobbed face up, limbs splayed out. Sashia struggled toward him, waist deep in the steaming water. Her uniform was soaked and