“Apologies for the abrupt action, Inspector Rainey.”
Minox Welling.
Minox looking like he walked through the blazes and fought every sinner in the canon, but still: Minox Welling. She’d have embraced him if she didn’t know he’d hate it. Instead, she responded to him as he would appreciate.
“Apology accepted, even if you are late.”
The beast charged at them, only to be intercepted by Jerinne Fendall, knocking him in the knee with her shield, throwing him off balance.
“I would argue it was you who has missed a majority of events,” he said.
Blasts of wind filled the square, followed by surges of fire and lightning raining down. The wild, hairy fellow was clearly the source of that, sowing chaos all around. People throughout the plaza screamed as they attempted to get away, but zealots and beasts were grabbing them, running farther into the streets of North Seleth. Satrine pointed to a pair of zealots who had pinned some shopkeepers into a corner.
“Fill me in while we rescue them,” she said, running over there.
“I would also argue for some form of tactical withdrawal to discuss strategy, were it not for the immediate danger,” he said. He raced over to the first zealot, knocking him down with a magically charged fist. While Satrine knocked down the other, he said, “I find myself without a call whistle. Summoning a show of color would be prudent.”
“I don’t disagree. My calls haven’t gotten a response yet,” Satrine said. She turned to the shopkeepers. “Lock yourself inside until you hear a Clear Call.” She took out her whistle and blew a series of blasts. Emergency call. Call for any and everyone in the loyalty to come, spread the call.
“You’re wasting your breath.” A small greasy-looking man came up to her and Minox. “There’s not likely to be any sticks within five blocks of here.”
“You are?” she asked.
Her answer came when Verci Rynax jumped on him, embracing the man. “Asti, thank Saint Senea. I thought you were—”
“We still may be,” he said. He looked over to the machine. “This job is well and truly skunked.”
“Take cover!” Minox shouted, pulling them behind a pile of rubble. Blasts of lightning and fire came at them.
“We need to do something,” Asti Rynax said.
“I’m open to suggestion,” Verci said. “But magic and monsters are out of my league. What happened to the Thorn?”
Veranix didn’t know where he was when he came out into the sunlight—was it already morning?—but there was no time to dwell on that. The zealots and monsters were running in every direction, grabbing children and other people, while Crenaxin and Senek still worked whatever twisted plot they intended. There was no time to think about anything else.
He jumped at a group of zealots who were dragging children toward the machine.
“None of that,” he shouted as he leaped into the center of them, staff whirling. No time for panache or style. Just knock them down and clear them out.
“Run to the church!” he yelled to the kids. “Hurry, go!”
The kids all started running, and the zealots gave chase. Veranix thought for a moment it would be easy to just whip out the rope, magically yank them back, but he had to pace himself. He only had so much magical strength left in reserve. Too much going on, and he couldn’t track it all, and saints only knew what he needed to do next.
Right now, just muscle and bone. Punch what was in front of him. Solve the immediate problems. Four zealots chasing after the kids.
He whipped the staff at one of them while taking up his bow. Draw, nock, and loose. Again. Again. Three put down, the fourth tripped up.
“Get off him!” a far too familiar voice shouted.
Veranix spun and saw Kaiana hammering punches at one of the monsters, which was dragging Delmin toward the machine. What the blazes were either of them doing here?
No time. He pulsed a hint of magic into himself, into speed, and ran at them, firing two arrows and scooping up his staff to smash the beast’s face in at the same moment the arrows found their mark. It fell away from Delmin.
“I think we missed curfew,” he told Delmin lightly.
“You think?” Delmin shot back.
Kaiana grabbed Veranix in a hard embrace. “I thought you were dead.”
“Came too close,” he said, quickly squeezing her back. “You two need to get out of here.”
“And where will you be?”
He drew and fired two more arrows at an approaching monster before answering. “Stopping this. But I can’t if you guys are in danger. Go in the church.”
“We’re not leaving you alone,” Delmin said.
“I’m not alone,” he said, glancing around. “Look, constables, Tarians, Rynaxes. It’s a party.”
“Veranix!” Kaiana said.
“They want the kids who ran into the church. Go and keep them safe. Please.” He spotted another monster going after a pair of kids on the church steps. He launched another arrow—he was running low at this point—taking it down. “Those two. Get them inside. Protect them, Kai.”
She looked to the kids, and nodded, pulling Delmin off with her. Veranix looked back to the chaos, spotting the first major situation. Gurond was hammering at the Tarian girl—Jerinne—and she was buckling under his strength.
“Hey, Gurond!” he shouted. “Why are you wasting time with her? I thought you wanted to play with me!”
Gurond looked up at him and grinned. “Goddamned mage.” He threw a dismissive swipe at Jerinne, which hit her shield and sent her skidding away. Then he ran at Veranix.
Veranix drank in the numina swirling around the square, sending it to his legs, filling the cloak, waiting for the exact moment when Gurond’s massive hands were about to land on him.
Then he jumped, rocketing up to the sky as far as he could go, while shrouding himself with the cloak. Gurond crashed into a wall.
Satisfying, but a drop in the bucket. Too much happening. No chance of stopping it alone. He didn’t
