A light blue spectral tear zig-zagged through the air, sporadically pausing at seemingly random intervals before it shot forward again, zipping from rooftop to rooftop, thousands of others like it in the backdrop of sky. Its exterior was almost gaseous, trailing wisps like see-through cilia, while its interior was dark, implying the presence of something less ethereal within.
With no warning it plunged downward and slammed into the skull of a fleeing tradesperson, sending a concussive shockwave that reached nearly thirty-span away.
The man should have been dead. But he wasn't. Instead, he writhed on the ground as if swarmed with countless insects, hands plastered over his face—no, his eyes—where a frigid blue-light radiated from beneath them.
And behind him, further down the street, there were at least ten others locked in the same throes.
It didn't take much to put it together. Draugeblod. Wispy entities attacking random people. The talk of possession so recently in mind. The other disasters I'd experienced cycled aggressively through my mind. I let them come, filtering out the fear, leveraging everything I'd learned.
The severity of anything approaching this scale was decided in the first hour. When there were thousands of lives on the line, and imminent danger, people died quickly.
There was no time to think. To ponder why this was happening now.
I opened my mouth, about to give the order to restrain the fallen people long enough for Maya, Vicant, or any of the healers to establish what was happening to them, when armed men rushed the streets.
Blackshields and regular rank-and-file rushed the streets, organized and assembled. But the bigger surprise was the mages. Every member of my father's personally trained honor guard was flanked by a member of the Crimson Hand. They operated in tandem, Blackshields restraining the fallen, while the Crimson Hand chanted incantations over wands or tomes.
"Thought those two hated each other," Mari mumbled, shifting back and forth on her feet.
"They do," I agreed, thrown off by the sudden reinforcements. In my past life the Crimson Brand were treated much like an open secret. Everyone knew they existed, but they were generally shunned by the military and outright forbidden from taking any action within the bounds of Whitefall. It took a great deal of training and discipline to cultivate a combined effort this effective.
Another surprise from my father. He had no end to them, as of late.
"Keeping rank, or acting to supplement, my lord?" Sevran asked. The banner lieutenant was impassive as always, but his spear was brandished, ready.
I considered that. There was something about this I didn't like. But in a state of emergency, the directive was clear. Regardless of the usual chain of command, in a time of local crisis, the King's orders superseded all others. You either acted on direct commands, or if you happened to be caught out without them, sought the highest ranking person you could find who had orders. Which meant there was really only one choice: diverting from our current course and assisting the greater armies.
"Support in a reserve capacity," I said, reluctantly. Then remembering the unfortunate casualties of the gray plague, as well as several riots and uprisings, amended that statement. "Belay that." I turned to Sevran, imparting seriousness into my words. "Split up, support the core armies as you would otherwise, but concentrate your efforts to Topside. Make sure they're following the same procedures there as they are here."
My orders were technically treasonous. But the lieutenants took little issue. They were all clever enough to realize that distribution of troops in a shitstorm was naturally scattershot, and unless someone could jump through the many barriers of proving our original location and that we moved to Topside with intent...
"And if they aren't?" Sevran asked, the slightest hint of curiosity in his voice.
"Then signal." My stomach tightened, the memories of mass graves filled with beggars and various topside all too visceral in my memory. "I won't be far behind."
Sera frowned. "We don't know the situation at the castle. Someone should go—"
She was cut off as Mari rounded on her, pressing into her space, the much shorter woman intimidating nonetheless. "Didn't take long to bleed purple. Piss off back to the most secure place in the city, pretend you're doing something. Kiss my arse."
Never one to ignore provocation, Sera stepped forward, bumping against the woman's breastplate. "Say it again."
"Mari's right," I cut in quickly, trying to circumvent the conflict before it bore fruit. "In theory, Annette's in the safest place in the capital. But this might be an attempt to draw troops away from Castle Whitefall."
"A smokescreen." Mari grunted, observing the widespread chaos as she absorbed the idea. "If this is all a distraction? It's a damn good one." She backed off with a muttered 'apologies,' which Sera flagrantly ignored.
"On that topic, does anyone else find the timing of this incident peculiar?" Sevran shifted a little, peering into the growing smoke.
"And me?" Maya asked.
I weighed the possibilities, then shook my head. "Stay with Sera." I withdrew the water orb from my satchel, holding it up between us. "If we suddenly start talking casualties, I'll call for you."
Maya raised her matching orb, and I gave mine a shake, confirming the binding still held, coming away satisfied.
"You know where you're going?" I asked Sevran as the infernal half-jogged, returning from the assembly of blackguards he'd been speaking to.
Instead of answering, he leaned in and whispered in my ear. "There are reports of an unquenchable fire in Topside."
"What color?"
"Nothing out of the ordinary," Sevran confirmed.
It wasn't demon fire. Still. Even a single fire mage could wreak havoc on a city. Normally there were precautions and safeguards to quickly locate such a person. But I had a feeling those measures weren't functioning well at the moment.
"They think it's the work of a magician?"
"Not the sort you're expecting." Sevran shook his head, lowered voice becoming almost inaudible. "The Crimson Brand is, to their credit, working to contain it. I suspect the quick response has less to do with decency than the slow response during the previous fires. Any water they conjure evaporates before it hits the flames. Yet the ordinary men and women carrying pails seem entirely unaffected."
I sucked in a breath. "The void mage."
Void, as an element, was rare. Rare enough that the entire enclave full of infernals seldomly housed over ten void mages like Bell at any given time. I'd caught glimpses of a powerful void mage acting behind the scenes, first during the confrontation with my father's forces outside the enclave. One powerful enough to suppress my sister's magic, bringing her no end of heartbreak. It was possible there were two, and I was inventing a greater enemy where none existed.
But my instincts said otherwise.
"This all seem too easy to you? Too orderly?" I asked Sevran quietly.
"Many things appear easy before they show their true face," Sevran returned. "But if the situation does not transform, and soon, I'd be shocked if it was little more than coincidence."
"Aetherya," I called to where she stood off to the side, peering down a nearby side-street that was a hive of activity. "Keep scouts overhead. Regardless of the situation. If there's something else driving this, or someone, the last thing we need is to be blindsided."
"Always do," she acknowledged.
"I'll be up there with them, so make sure they don't shoot me."
There was a split-second of displeasure before Aetherya answered. "Of course, my lord."
I grabbed Maya's hand, gripping lightly before releasing. "Stay safe."
"You too."
As the regiment disbursed, each heading towards a separate quarter of topside, I slipped into an alley, ditching my armor with the awkward assistance of a regimental squire. As armor went, mine was lighter than most. But the void mage was meticulous. They'd been completely hidden from me to this point. If this was my one chance of catching them off guard, I needed to move swiftly. The way I had in the sanctum.
I pulled the tabard's hood over my head, grateful for any protection against the wind, scaled the wall, and took to the rooftops.