Kyle worked quickly. The argent circle shifted perpendicular to him, and an image of it closed around him until it reached his outstretched hand, blood-red flame leaping from between his fingers. The magical energies met there, and a flash of argent leaped in two directions. One into Kyle, merging with his aura so that he might see what lay at the other end of the ritual sending. And the other, the Sending itself, lanced outward beyond the circle, reaching for the conjunction of the mystical forces on Mitch Truman. It was only a matter of time.