Chapter 129 - At The Entrance

We rode to the place in a shiny black SUV that just fit me, Ghost, and our three guards. I expected more. Hoped, actually. At least, they all looked competent, and one glance at them with aura-vision showed intricate glimmers of what must've been the pre-prepared combat spells I've read about.

Our car had to take a roundabout route, because the direct one was blocked with many cars and people wishing to get away from the angel, as well as police officers guiding them to do it in an orderly manner. Not a full-blown evacuation, but close to it.

On the way, Captain explained more details of the situation on the spot. There were sixteen in total covens in Petersburg big enough to keep their own territory. Out of these, four closest already had people at Eternalroot, and seven more were in transit, including us. The higher management didn't decide on who was the toppest witch amongst them, so in theory we were all equal, and in truth we would spend more time arguing who could and should do what than do anything.

Just what we needed in the time of crisis.

There were also reports of the local shapeshifter packs moving into the city from their territories outside and at the edge of the ring road. That didn't sound like good news either to me, and even Ghost agreed that "Having them around would be like throwing baking soda into vinegar!"

The SUV reached an old estate, not much different from the one Nightingale Coven resided in. Eternalroot's was somewhat bigger and stood surrounded by a medium-sized public park. The crucial difference, though, was the state of the building.

It looked like there was a fire. No, not a fire—explosion. The main entrance was blown outside, with the pieces of stone lying in heaps on the pavement and black whirls of char marring the beige paint on the walls. The streets around were deserted completely, with several cars smashed together in what I was sure was a panic escape. It created an improvised blockade where Captain was forced to stop the car.

And not only him—a few others were parked nearby, and I saw people coming in and out of the building, busy with hauling stuff out of their cars. Four people gathered outside, appearing to be in a hard argument.

"Out," Captain ordered, opening the car's door. "Chop-chop!"

I shook my head to clear it and did as followed. I made a few steps away from the car, inhaling a disturbing smell of fire and burnt things, and looking around for anything and anyone unfriendly. To my surprise, Ghost followed right after me, hovering over my shoulder like some sort of, well… ghost.

"Have to look out our coven's youngest generation." He winked at me. "That's what Elders always told me."

I huffed, but nodded gratefully. "Thanks, Ghost."

He still kept close to me when Captain moved our team in. As soon as we drew closer, a nervously wringing her hands witch separated from the group of arguing people and ran up to us, closely followed by the rest of them. A single glance at the silver medallion dangling from Captain's neck lit her eyes with hope.

"Nightingale Coven, finally!" she looked our team over until her eyes stopped at me and that hope burst to twice the force. "Please, come inside. We put how many we could into the coven's hospital, and the rest into their main hall. Some of the Eternalroot members were affected by the demon, but we don't know enough about how exactly he did… what he did to them to fix it."

"Did you round up everyone?" Captain asked, not pausing in his steps. I had to almost run to follow his long stride.

"Almost. There are no traces of the Elder and either of his daughters, and their status isn't confirmed yet. They could've escaped. The only person involved in the ritual that we found is the gate." Another witcher said in a bitingly frustrated tone. "I doubt we will find much on the demon here. If Nightingale Coven really wanted to help, Elder Elena should've sent her pet arch-witch at the demon itself instead of here."

"I'm not anyone's pet, and neither I nor Elena are so stupid as to do what you said and risk the demon blasting me like it did this door and with that your best hope of dealing with it," I barked right back, clenching my fists. With all the stress in the air, I didn't need anyone throwing their frustrations at me to boot!

"Calm down! We won't help anyone by arguing. I told you that already, and I told you we should pick a temporary leader even if our Elder can't agree on which one. At this point, I'm ready on decide it by a draw if this is what's necessary!" a third witcher spoke, running his palms through his dishevelled hair like he was just that close from tearing it out with a half of his scalp.

I imagined that the argument that the four—and by now I believed them to be leaders of their respective teams—would've continued in the same groove if we didn't march inside the blown wide open gates of the building.

Unlike in Nightingale's headquarters, here the main hall was divided from the entrance by a small lobby, but it made little difference since that was blown apart as well. The inside of the place was surprisingly clean, except for some garbage and overthrown chairs lying around. I expected more char and destruction. Instead, I saw only the couches and chairs turned into places of respite for wounded, and people rushing around with water and medical supplies. Some of these looked normal and familiar: medicaments, bandages. Some looked like they came from stereotypes about witches: herbs, amulets, eclectic trinkets.

It was all a great distraction from the wounded themselves, one to which I clung on pure reflex, because I was too afraid to look. And when I did look, I knew I wasn't afraid for nothing.