Nessa said.
“This is true.” Sebastian nodded, looking over his handiwork again. “So the shield is a magical cage. If they were to erect it, magic could be fired into it, but not out. People could walk into it, but not out. Once locked inside a spell like that, you’re trapped—unless you have enough power to break the spell, which, I’m guessing, at that magnitude, we wouldn’t.”
“Then what?” I asked, not quite understanding. “With a town this large, with buildings and everything, they wouldn’t be able to hit us with spells. And the pack isn’t that removed from Dick society, so we could call for help.”
Sebastian shook his head at me. “The air would be trapped inside with us. Sound. They could drop magical bombs on us from a helicopter without anyone hearing the blasts. Shoot down at us with silencers. Spray down acid. Release poisonous gasses that Momar acquired through the magical black market—or Dick black market—and let it run its course. Drop down fire, somehow flood—”
“Okay, okay,” I said, feeling a little sick. “I get it.”
“Being trapped like that in a magical battle, no matter how large the circumference of your cage, is death,” Sebastian said. “That’s why people keep trying to build that massive magical shield.”
“But it’s not likely to be erected,” Austin said.
No one cracked a joke about his choice of words this time. The room was deathly silent.
“No, it’s not likely. What is likely is they’ll manage to create domes,” Sebastian said. “Domes are like the cage but smaller, weaker, and easier to break. If they do that, it’ll be to shield themselves and keep us off them. Magic will be able to go out but not be shot in at them. Physical attacks would be thwarted unless the creatures attacking have more power. Those domes will keep them stationary, and for us, that’s a great thing. It makes them sitting ducks. I’ve already started potions to eat through that magic. We have creatures powerful enough to claw through it. And, if nothing else works, Jessie and I can magically break into one at a time. Domes are doable. I still need to come up with a few miracles
to help us fight the odds, but there’s hope.”
“He’s very good at coming up with miracles, folks, don’t worry.” Nessa put out her hands as though settling everyone down.
“Yes, call me miracle man.” He said it in such a droll way, I couldn’t help a smile. “But to get to the mages, possibly in their domes, we’ll first have to make it through the mercenaries.” Sebastian took a deep breath, pointing at the mercenary tokens. “After that, the ground troops. Those won’t be a problem if we can thwart those magical guns. There’s a pretty easy potion to reduce their effectiveness, but it hasn’t been made because we have a lot to do and Austin—and Kingsley! Alpha, I mean. They need to decide what’s the most important use for our time.”
“In summary?” Nessa prompted.
“Summary. Right. All told, if we can get around the magical guns, even with two-or three-to-one odds, we’ll be able to handle their mercenaries and ground troops. Our problem is the need to do it quickly, because the mages will be firing spells at us the whole time. And if they get close enough, they’ll also fire spells at your loved ones. Broken Sue has real-world experience with just such a situation.”
“Brochan has dealt with a mage attack where innocents were involved,” Austin told Kingsley.
“Correct,” Brochan said, his raspy, haunted voice carrying through the room.
He went into some detail, explaining how they attacked at first light, a wall of mercenaries rushing their borders and into their town. The pack had had no warning, but they’d mobilized quickly, their sentries incredibly effective and their defenses well trained and organized.
His voice faltered when he recounted the enemy kicking in doors and shooting in houses, aiming for innocents.
“We were badly outnumbered,” he said, “but we could’ve handled the mercenaries. Not the mages, though. We were defenseless against their magic. They used the mercenaries to keep our fighters occupied, and then they desecrated our town. They did not even spare the little ones. They spared no one.”
The painful memory was a warning for Kingsley, I knew. This wasn’t an enemy with a conscience, and certainly not an enemy who fought fair. Broken Sue was rehashing his past so that Kingsley knew exactly the sort of demon he was up against.
The room was quiet for a moment when he finished, until that asshole Bruce muttered, “Well…not all of you, it seems, right?” His eyes just barely squinted, hinting at a sneer. “No one was spared…but the alpha. I guess you don’t hold with the saying that the captain goes down with the ship. In this case, I guess the captain uses the only lifeboat—”
Broken Sue launched forward, power exploding from him as he barreled through the room.
Aiming for Bruce. Intending to kill.
NINETEEN
Jessie
“HOLY—” I put out my hands, but my mind had gone blank of all non-harmful spells.
Bodies flew to the sides, knocked down by Broken Sue’s muscular girth. He flung James and some other guy like they were paper sacks stuffed with feathers before grabbing Bruce and landing a solid punch. Amid shouts and movement, Bruce went limp immediately, not conscious for long enough to even fight back.
Austin dove at Broken Sue, arms wide, tackling him to the ground. The two men fell onto some of Kingsley’s people, all of them scrambling now, some to get away, Broken Sue to get back at Bruce, and Austin trying to keep the incensed, raging man down.
Tristan raced into the fray, not gentle in how he threw Kingsley’s people away to make room. One woman sailed toward the wall, hitting it with a loud thud. Another crashed against the podium holding the projector, knocking everything down.
Austin continued to wrestle with Broken Sue, dodging punches, throwing none of his own. Tristan bent to help immediately, and the two men hoisted a still-fighting Broken Sue up and then manhandled him to the door and out.
I pointed at a still-limp Bruce and rounded on Kingsley. “Get that bastard out of here,” I yelled in a magically enhanced voice. “Get that guy out of here and do not bring him into our collective presence again—do I make myself clear, Kingsley Barazza?”
Kingsley’s shoulders bunched. “You forget yourself, Jacinta. I am not Austin. You’re exhibiting challenging behavior right now. I’ll give you a moment—”