Cymrian drew up short. “We’re wasting time. You have to use the Elfstones again.”
Aphenglow looked around. “Out here? In the street?”
“No, not here. It’s too crowded.” He pointed toward the roof of a long, square building nearby. The roof was flat and open to the sky. “Up there.”
There were huge roll-up doors that opened into the building, but they were locked and barred, so Cymrian chose to break through a smaller door off a side street. No one was inside once they entered. The building was a warehouse filled with large crates carefully stacked in bays. A metal stairway led up to a doorway in the ceiling and out onto the roof.
Once they were on the roof, Aphen didn’t waste any time. She brought out the Elfstones, settled into her by-now-familiar trance, and summoned the magic. It flared to life almost immediately, gathering power in the palm of her hand and then flashing away into the distance. From high up on the roof, they could see the walls of the city and two of the gates. The magic went straight toward the west gate, speeding almost to its massive portals before dropping down to a street leading in that direction and to an image of Arling wrapped in a cloak and hood as she made her way to freedom. Then the magic flared and died.
“I know where she is,” Cymrian declared, already racing back toward the stairs.
They went back through the empty warehouse and out the door into the street beyond. Cymrian led, with Aphen a step behind. The crowds were thin at first, but quickly began to grow in size until moving through them became all but impossible. Aphen grew frustrated and, throwing caution to the winds, she invoked a magic that moved people out of their path. But even this didn’t solve the problem entirely because she could only impact those closest, and the larger mass continued to press toward them.
Then all at once shouts and screams rose from the direction in which they were heading, growing quickly from a scattered few to hundreds. Heads turned and people stopped where they were, milling about and trying to decide what was happening. Aphen and Cymrian attempted to move forward, but the street was entirely blocked now as the crowd clustered before them became a solid mass of bodies.
“What’s happening?” Aphen shouted over the din.
Seconds later the screams and cries reached the head of the crowd and people began to surge back toward the Elves. Aphen and Cymrian were forced against the walls of the flanking buildings, unable to do anything more than get out of the way. The cries were spreading throughout the city, rising all around them, filling the air until nothing else could be heard.
In frustration, Cymrian began grabbing passersby, demanding to know what was happening. At first, he got no coherent answer. Those running were just following everyone else. Something terrible was happening, but it wasn’t clear what. All anyone knew to do was to get away.
Until they stopped a young man who shouted, “The city’s under attack! Thousands of them, out on the flats!”
“Thousands of whom?” Cymrian snapped.
The young man pulled free. “They say it’s demons!” he answered, and raced away.
Eleven
Keeton was sleeping when the hands began shaking him. “Commander, wake up!”
The urgency of the plea got through the layers of sleep that clogged his brain and brought him instantly awake. No small task, because he had been working all through the night and had only gotten to bed a little before midday.
He rubbed his eyes and peered up at his second. “What is it, Wint?”
“The city is under attack.”
It was such an outrageous statement that, for a moment, Keeton thought he must have heard wrong. Then he sat up quickly. “Under attack from whom?”
“Don’t know yet for sure.” His second hesitated. “The reports say it’s demons, but I don’t see how that can be. Whatever they are, though, there’s a lot of them.”
Keeton rose, splashed water from the basin on his face, and began dressing. “You haven’t been to the wall yourself? You haven’t seen any of this firsthand?”
“No. I just now got word from those who were there and managed to get back here. The city’s a mess. People crowding the streets, running everywhere, screaming like it’s the end of the world. Even if I could get to the wall, I’d have real trouble getting back. Besides, you wouldn’t be there with me, and I think you need to be.”
“I always value your assessment, Wint. Thanks for waking me.”
“You don’t mean it, but I appreciate your willingness to say it. You barely got to sleep. I didn’t want to wake you, but I think this is something bad.”