"Only you would think that," says Kell, despising how fond he sounds, yet entirely unable to stop it. He scowls harder to compensate and steps further into the circle where the etches are deepest.

"The circle concentrates power," he explains. "The plates reflect it back to me. Glass would be better." But Kell has grown accustomed to his new, darker practicing ground. He might even like its grim setting better.