Well, when all else fails, try logic. The spirit protection spell was theorized to form a short-range barrier around a person which spirits couldn't penetrate; if it was coupled with a release spell, the combination might at least push the lar far enough back for her to slip past it.
Or else she'd get the same result as she'd just gotten with the geas-release combination: namely, nothing. But giving up now was to lose by default. Mentally crossing her fingers, she took as deep a breath as she could manage with the lar pressing in on her. "Man-sy-hae orolontis; carash-melanasta
—"
And lost the rest of her breath in a strangled whuff as the intangible cocoon abruptly tightened, squeezing in on her like a padded vise.
There was no time to try anything else, even if she'd had anything else to try. She couldn't breathe...
and as the feint haze before her eyes became mottled, she knew the lar was doing its best to squeeze the life out of her...
She awoke back in the room to find three figures standing over her: a man and a woman in the increasingly familiar Coven robes, and a second man—
"Ravagin!" she managed.
"You all right?" he asked, his wooden expression not giving way any hint of what he was thinking.
Which could be any of a dozen unpleasant things. Danae felt her face flush with embarrassment and shame. "Sure, I'm fine," she muttered. "I guess I got the spell wrong."
Ravagin looked at the Coven man. "I may have mentioned that we're not particularly good spirithandlers," he said. "Really, we're nothing more than craftsmen. I don't think we can be of much service to Coven."
The man shook his head. "You misunderstand both our purposes and our needs. Spirithandling isn't the problem—we have all that sort of knowledge we need. But your—what was it, some new style of bow? Yes—your bow shows you're exactly the sort people we're always in search of."
Ravagin's eyes flicked to Danae and back again. "So it's creative talent you're looking for, is it? And you pass out those enchanted robes to help in the hunt?"
The man smiled. "Exactly. Each has a spirit trapped—well, not in it, exactly; that would be too easy to detect. But the spirit is associated with it in a rather complicated manner."
"How do you make sure the robes get to the proper people?" Danae asked.
"Oh, we don't," the man shrugged. "Most of them disappear out there and we never hear of them again. But enough find their way to people we can use. You'd be amazed at how many peddlers will buy a robe that has the Coven emblem on it, almost as if our reputation for quality will reflect on them."
Danae felt her stomach tighten. The exact logic Melentha had used on her... and she'd fallen for the trick like a halfwit. "So is that all you dragged us here for?" she demanded. "My composite bow design?"
"Oh, the bow will only be the start," the woman said. "We're extending you the rare privilege of joining the Coven community. In return, you'll be expected to create a steady stream of ingenious instruments and tools for us to market."
Danae looked at Ravagin, her mouth going dry. "Did you explain to our hosts that we really can't stay here—?"
"I've tried," Ravagin said. "I get the feeling the invitation isn't a matter of choice."
"You're beginning to understand—" The man broke off as the glow-fire of a sprite came through the wall and decelerated to a sudden stop. For a second it engulfed first his head, then the woman's, before heading away in a smooth curve through the half-open doorway.
"Excuse us, but we're needed elsewhere," the man said as he and the woman started toward the door.
"You'll be comfortable here until we return. I suggest you discuss the situation and try to reconcile yourselves to it." They disappeared into the hallway, closing the heavy door behind them.
Ravagin exhaled in a long sigh and turned to eye Danae. "You all right?" he asked. "Really all right, I mean?"
"I'm as well as can be expected," Danae told him, sitting up on the bed. "Ravagin—I'm sorry about all of this. I don't know what happened—"
He waved the apology away. "Forget it. You heard the man: they've clearly got this snatching technique down to a science. Let's try and figure out a way out of here, shall we?"
"I tried the door," she grimaced. "You saw what happened."
"Sure did. What was that, anyway?—a fractional-possession spell?"
"No, I think it was a lar, circling me at very close orbit. I tried combining a release spell with—"
"A lar?" Ravagin frowned. "You sure?"
"I'm not sure of anything, but I don't know what else it could have been. Why?"
"Because that wasn't typical lar behavior." Ravagin gazed into space a minute. "No. You couldn't set a lar to form a tube around a person like that. You only get that kind of full circle as a large perimeter
—it reforms as a localized column in front of anyone who gets too close."
Danae thought back to that first night on Karyx. Sure enough, that was how the lar had behaved.
"You're right," she admitted. "But the haze and—well, the basic sensation—both felt more like a lar than anything else."
"Great." Ravagin sat down heavily on the edge of the bed. "Just great. You realize, of course, what it means if you're right."
"Coven's come up with some brand-new spells?" she hazarded.
"Bull's-eye. And not just new spells, but ones that create entirely different behavior patterns in the invoked spirits."
She thought that over for a minute. "But the old spells should still work, shouldn't they? I mean, they work now, and—well, relativity didn't negate the accuracy of classical mechanics, you know."
Ravagin looked her in astonishment. "What does relativity have to do with it?"
"I meant that in its proper sphere, classical mechan—"
"I know what you meant," he cut her off. "Look, Danae, in case you hadn't noticed, we're not dealing with electrons and frictionless sleds here—we're dealing with living, sentient beings. There are no guarantees here—we're damn lucky that someone in Karyx's past found any way of controlling these spirits. But the whole thing is strictly empirical; if there are basic laws governing the interaction of spells and spirits, no one's come up with them yet."
"I'm aware of that," Danae snapped, getting to her feet. "You're welcome to start work on that oversight right away—I'm going to find a way past that lar."
Stomping to the door, she opened it a crack. This time, knowing what to look for, she found she could see the faint haze between her and freedom. "You said you tried a standard release spell?"
Ravagin called from behind her.
"Yes," she gritted, trying to summon up courage to try this again. The memory of being almost crushed to death...
"I'm surprised you were able to get any words out at all, given the way you looked when we found you."
"It didn't try to strangle me until after I said the release," she told him. Maybe if she used one of the other geas spells this time... Clenching her teeth, she inhaled deeply—
"It did what?" There was a creak from the bed, and a second later Ravagin was peering through the door over her shoulder. "A lar shouldn't react that way to a release spell from the wrong person."
"Well... I did try using the control spell for a manifold geas first," she admitted. "Maybe that—I don't know, sensitized it or put it on its guard or something."
"It shouldn't have," he said, shaking his head slowly. "With a manifold geas you're either in control or you aren't, and if you aren't the spirit's just supposed to ignore you. Certainly not attack you."
"If you're implying I said the spell wrong—"
"No, no, I'm sure you did it right." He exhaled thoughtfully between his teeth. "Damn. This gets worse and worse, Danae."
She twisted her head to look at him. "What do you mean? You said we were probably dealing with a new set of spells and spirit behavior here."
For a long moment he was silent. Then, reaching around behind her, he carefully pushed the door closed. "You don't want to try the release again?" she asked.