“Stay here, Guild Hunter. Keep watch. I’m going to check the sky.” Rising, he moved to the center of the pedestrian road, where the people stood or sat in thrall to Caliane’s song, and spreading his wings, rose skyward.
It could be expected that the sky would be darkening as night started to fall in earnest, but the darkness he saw on the horizon was a roiling blackness that reminded him of the unnatural clouds that had crawled across the New York sky before hundreds of birds landed around him and Elena as they stood on a barge on the Hudson.
This storm, however, wasn’t created of birds, wasn’t a message from beings who had spent eons in the silent deep. The black clouds had a malevolent purple tinge; he knew the lightning arcing inside it could crash even an archangel to the earth. He’d witnessed its like when Alexander awoke, seen powerful angels go down with shredded wings when they attempted to get above the clouds.
Because this wasn’t ordinary lightning. It was Cascade-born. Unpredictable. Dangerous.
Elena, this storm is unnatural. Order the boy to tell people to go inside. I will ask Mother to stop her song. He knew no one would leave while she sang.
Caliane stopped the instant he told her of the Cascade storm building to killing fury. I will sing them to return to their homes, she replied a heartbeat later.
Not arguing against the manipulation that could save lives, Raphael landed back in the marketplace. People were bustling this way and that in the wake of Caliane’s song of warning. He knew that song would reach every corner of the town, Caliane having amped up the voltage without raising her voice.
The boy was gone, as were his great-grandparents—along with Elena.
Guild Hunter.
I wanted to make sure Riad and his great-grandparents got under shelter. She appeared from around a corner even as her voice filled his mind, her wings held tight to her back. Their house is literally just behind the market street.
Reaching him, she said, “Is there anything else we can do?” Her hands were on her hips and her eyes sharp as she took in the activity around them.
“No, but I think the people here should be safe until the storm passes.” Raphael watched a young man pick up a little girl and run into a shop that was putting up storm shutters. “These buildings are low to the ground to begin with, and most are likely to have a lower level underground, where it’s cool.”
Elena nodded. “Riad said he’d take his great-grandparents down to the cool room. That must be what he meant.” She looked around. “Let’s do a flyby, make sure no one’s been caught outside for any reason.”
Raphael took her into the sky, then splitting up, the two of them did a quarter-by-quarter flyover. They found no one in distress, children and elders and the infirm being assisted by the able-bodied, as should be in a healthy town. Clearly, this place had no problems of its own. The fear and horror came as a direct result of the Luminata situated on their doorstep.
Elena, start your flight back to Lumia. You need a head start. His consort was dangerously vulnerable in this situation. I’ll do another sweep, follow with Mother and Tasha. Both of whom were still in the town as Caliane continued to sing people to safety.
His hunter flew down to check on a child who was being pulled inside a house, swept back up to face him. “I think everyone’s inside or will be soon. Maybe we can just stay here until it passes?”
Raphael shook his head. “Caliane and I may attract the power of the storm.” The Cascade acted in strange ways and its effects were concentrated mainly on those of the Cadre. “We can’t take the risk of driving lightning down on this town.”
“You promise you’ll be following?” Elena asked as rain began to come down in hard stabs that had her wiping a hand across her face.
“I promise.” Raphael had no intention of abandoning her alone in the dark. “I’ll catch up to you before you’ve covered a quarter of the distance.”
After reaching out to touch her fingertips to his, Elena turned and flew in the direction of Lumia, wings of midnight and dawn disappearing into the murk created by the rain and the rapidly falling night.
Mother, you need to get in the air. The people are safe. He understood her weakness, understood that she was trying to make up for the horror of what she’d once done, singing the adult populations of two thriving cities into the sea. She hadn’t touched the children, but they’d died nonetheless. Of sorrow, of heartbreak.
Are you certain? Guilt in her tone, thousands of ghosts in her voice.
Yes. The streets are all but empty and the stragglers will make it to safety in the next two minutes at most. We must fly if we are to make Lumia before the storm hits—or we may draw the lightning to this place.