“Dangerously?” Julius said. “How dangerously?”
“That depends on where you were when it happened,” Myron said. “Not everyone was lucky enough to have a warded bunker nearby. But high as they are, the elevated magic levels probably won’t be fatal to healthy individuals. Highly unpleasant, certainly, but not deadly. The danger General Jackson refers to is more of a long-term problem.” He glanced at the glowing particles drifting up from the ground outside. “This is actually quite similar to the night magic first returned, only stronger. How much stronger varies depending on the local ambient magic, but the numbers I’ve seen generally seem to be clocking in at two to three hundred percent higher than normal.”
“But that still shouldn’t be more than humans can handle,” Marci said with her mouth full. “We didn’t make new magic. Everything that’s here now was here before the drought, and humanity handled it fine back then.”
“We did,” Myron admitted. “But while the raw amount is the same, the majority of the magic back then would have been tied up in natural systems, not dropped on people’s heads all at once. We don’t know if the world has ever experienced a flood of this magnitude before, but we can say for certain that no living human has ever been doused with this much free-floating magic. Unless they were able to flee to a warded location, as we were, new manifestations are inevitable.”
Julius went pale. “Manifestations?”
“He means new mages,” Marci explained. “The night the magic came back, a whole bunch of people with the right combination of genes were suddenly able to use magic. Most of those burned themselves out in the first hour. Another good chunk went crazy. Only a few could actually handle the change. It was only later, when mages started being born naturally and growing into their powers slowly, that magic stopped being a death sentence.”
“And you’re saying we’re going to see that again,” Julius finished with a frown. “But isn’t everyone who could be a mage one already?”
“Everyone that we’re aware of,” Myron said authoritatively. “But we’ve never been able to pin down the exact genetic combination that gives people the ability to consciously control magic because the range is too enormous. Half the human population has at least one of the markers for magical potential. It’s been theorized that those people failed to become mages not because they lacked the fundamental ability, but because magical levels were simply too low for them to access. Now that magic is shoving its way down their throats, however, that could change.”
“We might see a whole new wave of mages!” Marci said. “Assuming they don’t all go nuts first, of course. But everyone knows magic is real now, so the transition should be much smoother this time around.”
“That’s good for them,” Emily said. “But the situation right here and now is anything but. We have no official measurement devices left in the DFZ, but from the visual clues, Myron’s estimated that the magical levels here are much higher than the rest of the world’s.”
“At least a thousand percent higher than normal,” Myron agreed. “Maybe more.”
“And that’s why we can’t go outside,” Raven finished, turning on Amelia’s shoulder to give the frolicking forms of Ghost and the DFZ outside the evil eye. “True mortal spirits might be big enough to roll such power off their backs, but the rest of us are grounded. Even I can’t fly in a storm like this.”
“Nothing can fly,” the general said angrily. “I’ve been on the horn with our air base in Canada since six this morning. They can’t get anything within fifty miles of the DFZ due to the magical interference. Planes, jets, helicopters—they’re all useless. Even the satellites can’t see through the glare of magic rising off this place, and that’s a problem, because without eyes, we can’t see what Algonquin’s doing.”
“So send one of the Mortal Spirits,” Chelsie suggested. “They’re clearly not having a problem, and we need information.”
“I’ve tried,” Myron said. “But I’m afraid my spirit is not in the correct mindset to… that is, with the current environment…”
“He can’t ask them because they’re high out of their minds,” Amelia finished. “They’re so drunk on magic right now, they don’t know which way is up, the lucky bastards.”
Chelsie gave her sister a flat look. “I’m surprised you’re not out there with them.”
“I would be if I could,” Amelia said, her voice pained. “Alas, like Raven, I’m too much of a hybrid to actually enjoy the current situation. If I went out there, I’d be squished as flat as the rest of you. Not exactly a useful scout.”
Myron turned to Marci. “I was hoping you’d have more luck with Ghost. He’s been in magic like this before, and he seems more disciplined. Whenever I ask her to help, the DFZ just laughs and tells me to come out and play.”
Marci understood the importance of what he was asking, but interrupting Ghost’s pure joy felt wrong to her. This was an emergency, though, so she reached out reluctantly with a mental hand to tug on her connection to the Empty Wind. The moment she touched it, a flood of happiness washed her under. Ghost’s hands followed, clutching her mind and tugging on her to come out and bathe in the glorious magic with him. It was so intoxicating, she actually stood up before she realized what she was doing.
“I don’t think he’s doing any better than the DFZ,” she said, gently prying herself out of her spirit’s delirious grip as she sat back down. “But the fallout has to be almost over. What time is it?”
“Noon,” General Jackson replied.
Marci blinked. She’d known she’d lost track of time in Julius’s room, but she didn’t think they’d been in there that long. They hadn’t even gotten to the house until eight last night, which meant… “We’ve been experiencing magical fallout at the visible level for sixteen hours?”
“I told you it was severe,” the general said. “But all these worries are secondary to the threat of the Nameless End.”
“You refer to the thing from beyond the planes,” the Qilin said, his perfect face worried. “The devourer of worlds Amelia was telling us about earlier.”