"I will not acquiesce, Deputy," Carlisle assures Pratt, his eyes still affixed on the woman before him, knowing good and well that were he to release the barrier that she would strike him down in an instant. What enchantments does that blade have? How much damage would it do were it to connect with his flesh?

Questions for another time - he needs to concentrate as he answers her. "I will not barter with someone who would slay my friend," he answers firmly. "You are correct that I would not have enough power to maintain such a ward on my own... but thankfully, I have access to all I will ever need."

The glow of his eyes hits an apex, so bright that his pupils are completely hidden from view -- they are a counter for her own, black eyes, with endless illumination rather than darkness. Despite the magic he is pouring into the glyph, he shows no sign of fatigue, save for the trail of ink that makes its way through his teeth, dripping to the ground below. As expected, his partner's energy drawn through the Mote nearly boundless.

At least for now. Carlisle can worry later about how such vibrancy will dwindle the longer he sustains his own life on them -- he has to actually live that long, first.

"Why are you after him?" Carlisle asks finally. "Why this man in particular? What has he done to you?"