Whatever cure had been performed on Maia was apparently incomplete. Celeste tried to observe with a researcher's cool detachment, but could not help feeling disturbed by the wound and its contents, and at the same time, fascinated. The rainbow aura she had earlier glimpsed was starting to make sense.<br/><br/>No time to dwell on that now.<em>Focus</em>, she thought, as the other woman charged. Celeste looked into the distance beyond the onrushing creatures, and the sights and sounds of the world about her abated as she sought the spark of her magic. She was dimly aware of Dugald cursing, of swords being drawn and the thump of hoofbeats drawing nearer, drowning out the creatures' vibrations. There was a sickening thump as Maia's staff connected, flesh splattering, bones crunching, and an answering roar from many mouths at once.<br/><br/>Although all wizard magic came from a single source, the Weave that bound all things, not all approaches to its use were the same. Some relied on an object as a focus, others on runes traced in the air or on an object, still others on chants and intoned words, all designed to create a center about which the surrounding world could be reshaped.<br/><br/>For Celeste it was more about feeling, about sensing the magic and coaxing it to do her bidding. There was strength in the stone and earth beneath her feet, and the warmth of fire borne by sunlight. And she felt the untapped potential in the shifting of the breeze and in the distant surge of the ocean. All these and more she called upon, forming her magic, feeling it burn white-hot within her. With a fierce shout she pointed her staff. Lightning flared from the sky, arcing towards the second creature, consuming it in crackling brilliance. But when the light faded with a peal of thunder, she cried out in dismay. Small fires burned here and there, singeing hair or flesh, but it had escaped almost unharmed. The chaos surrounding the creatures had shielded them, she realized, a stronger form of Maia's aura that had fought the ordered purpose of her spell.<br/><br/>Eyes, some huge and unblinking, some faceted like insects, swiveled towards her, and jaws and mouths opened hungrily. The beast was close enough for her to smell the sickening sweetness of charred flesh, and the charnel odor of decay. She whispered a word, called upon the remnants of her last spell to power another, and her long brown hair and robe stirred as if blown by a breeze, though none was felt. Light as a feather, she leaped aside as claws rent the air where she had stood a moment before.<br/><br/>There was a flash of steel as Dugald rode by. The other guards trailed in his wake, pieces of flesh flying as they hacked with swords.<br/><br/>Meanwhile, the beast facing Maia drew itself up, rising into a column thrice her height. Shrill screams came from its mouths as it descended towards her in a mass of piercing spikes and savage claws.<br/>