Guided by Ana, the city’s fury fell against its enemies. She played notes against missile weapons, negating the officers’ biggest advantage. They did have batons, strength, and a firm battle line, so numbers alone did not simply wash them away. It was a battle, and Ana stood a few metres behind the front, doing her part with the violin and her soul.

She played notes of courage and of strength, and the people fell against the false officers again and again, buckling their lines a little bit more with each assault. There were injuries and chaos, the inevitable bastard children of any battle, but Damia and her chosen hands did their very best to fight through the latter to tend to the former. The injured who could retreated and were guided to the back, to sit down with the young and elderly. Those who fell were taken; people worked in twos or threes to pull them away from the melee and then carry them through the mass of people.

Ana kept her mind off the injured, however much it went against her basic nature. This battle had to be won. She spun notes of healing whenever possible, when there was a momentary break in the violence, but if this fight was not won then it would count for nothing.

Pressed as they were by Ana’s music, the fighting and the people’s growing understanding, the masks slipped more fully away. Her makeshift army wasn’t fighting human beings, but twisted beasts of shadow, fang and claw. The batons were mostly dropped in favour of those horrid weapons, and injuries began occurring at a faster pace, putting more pressure on Damia’s crew. One woman was carried right past Ana with gruesome, bleeding claw marks down her face, and moments later she glimpsed a man with a mauled leg being led through the furious crowd.

But injuries or not, the enemy had simply taken too many casualties for anything to turn the tide in their favour. The weight of numbers and determination drove them back; they were grabbed by the ankles and dragged into the furious crowd which stomped them to death, they were beaten down with blows given strength by Ana’s playing, the batons were taken and turned against the shadow beasts, and some in the crowd began remembering arts of their own.

In time the enemy battle line was broken in two, and the people of the city flowed into the gap. Each half of the remaining beast forces were attacked from more angles and went into a fighting retreat. And through it all Ana played. She played and played, surrounded by the swirling streams of power, making her desire for justice, freedom and victory into a reality with her will alone. It was a trance of sorts, which was why it took her a while to notice anything besides the immediate battle.

Their enemies were receiving reinforcements. ‘Cops’ were coming in from their posts and patrols elsewhere in the city. A few gathered up behind, close to the field of injured and noncombatants, necessitating a redirection of forces to defend them. But most were coming up behind their hard-pressed comrades. Rather than rushing right over into a losing battle they were gathering into a force of their own. Some came out of the many streets leading into the Long Road, while others crawled up out of the darkness beneath Champion’s Bridge like insects from beneath a sink.

They took up position by the mouth of the bridge, and half of their comrades were attempting a fighting retreat to join them. The difference in number would count for far less on the bridge, and the other half of the remaining initial force had adopted the same idea, falling back to the police station parking lot. There was only the one entrance, and it was even more narrow than the bridge. The tide of battle didn’t turn, but it did slow down and Ana felt her first pang of real worry. How much more might their enemy throw at them if given time to breathe and react?

Her first thought was to push her troops more firmly, to overwhelm the split force and destroy it as quickly as possible before any other could aid them. Her second thought was of the inevitable casualties that move would cause.

She was saved from actually having to make this decision. On the bridge appeared a dashing figure, clad in dark blue armour. It rode a large, beautiful horse, and held a sword in its hand. The dark force amassed at the bridge entrance noticed too late to turn around and arrange an effective defence. The horse unflinchingly bore its rider into the panicked ranks, and the sword struck down with a loud crack and a flash of blue.

The pair passed through the creatures like scissors cutting through cloth, trampling and slashing any in their path and scattering the rest. Once through, the rider turned the horse around and it reared up with a kick that annihilated its victim. They passed through once more, sowing further devastation amidst the diminished force. The horse bit, and used its sheer size and weight as a weapon, trampling a few more and knocking some others aside. The armoured rider dealt out a blue flash of death with each stroke, and as the pair finished the second assault their enemies were halved in number. Ana thought the rider had taken a couple of hits but the armour had clearly saved him.

The horse turned around again, and now the dark figures simply fled in a panicked rout as the third charge came. The stragglers joined the stragglers now being driven off by Ana’s army. There was no longer any fighting retreat; simply panicking individuals trying to escape a defeat with their own lives, crashing into their comrades as they went.

Between the armoured rider and the dozens who gave chase after winning the ground, the enemy suffered more casualties. Ana turned her attention to the rear. It was hard to make anything out that far beyond the thousands and thousands of people occupying Long Street. She eyed a lamppost and considered climbing it for a better view, but that would mean ceasing to play, and the fighting wasn’t finished yet. She didn’t dare suddenly strip away the power she was giving to people.

The remaining shadow beasts holding the parking lot were putting up a stiff resistance, lashing out with wicked claws and inflicting awful wounds in spite of Ana’s protections. The people couldn’t take advantage of their numbers in that fight and were mostly unarmed, and so the greater reach of their enemies was a deciding factor. She vaguely recalled something about being able to call weapons into existence, but it wasn’t quite clear enough to her that she dared switch songs for the attempt.

Sam made his way through the half-ordered, half-chaotic mass of human beings and stepped up to Ana.

“They’re falling back in the rear! The old, injured and children are safe for now!”

It was strange to see the man focused and passionate, and Ana reminded herself that it really oughtn’t be. The lie was falling apart more and more.

“Good,” she breathed.

“This is a pickle,” he said, turning to take in the fight over the parking lot entrance. “I could... I could take a bunch of people around and climb the wall. We could attack them in the rear.”

“They’re too strong for a small group,” Ana said, her voice high and distracted due to the playing. “I think...”

What did she think? The injuries were piling up, more than her heart could readily tolerate. The armoured rider was still spearheading the rout away from the bridge. She thought about calling for a retreat for now, but it seemed a sure thing the beasts would then fall back into the police station and be even harder to root out.

“I...”

Something caught the corner of her eye. A white figure leapt up out of the crowd, soaring mightily before landing on top of the brick wall that ringed the station. It ran nimbly along the length of it until almost at the gate. Then it held a hand out and a bolt of light shot out. There was a crack and a boom, right in the centre of the pack of shadow beasts. Some fell, and the rest scattered. The woman in white fired again, and again, going for concentrations of foes. The people who had been fighting to get into the lot now fell back, letting her work.

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

Ana finally felt safe to switch to a song of healing. She poured love and compassion into the strings, and the faces of the injured that were carried through the crowds looked a little less pained. She walked slowly as she played, and people parted to let her though. Ana got closer to the lot entrance, close enough to see the pair that made it to the stairs. They bounded up to the door in two steps and were at the door when the final lightning blast caught them.

They were all gone. Not even bodies remained. None of the beasts left bodies.

Ana looked up. The woman perched on the wall like a bird of prey wore a sturdy, cream-coloured tailcoat with golden shoulder flaps and a stylised eagle insignia sewn over the chest. It was almost as familiar as the face up above the elegant collar.

“Inspector,” Ana said.

“I’m not, though, am I?” Myra replied.

“Damia,” Ana said. “Damia!”

After a few seconds the woman appeared out of the crowd.

“Is anyone critical?” Ana asked.

“No. No, it seems everyone is stable for now.”

As much as she disliked doing it, Ana stopped playing. The power hung in the air as a lingering effect, but the change her silence brought was still rather surprising. Ana reminded herself, again, that she shouldn’t be that surprised and kept her focus on Myra.

The woman hopped down from the wall, but blew the landing a bit with a pained grimace as her ankle nearly buckled.

“You’re hurt,” Ana said.

“Just a bit,” Myra replied. “I’ll manage. I saw the injured back there, you should-”

Ana handed her the bow and violin and the woman took both with a slightly confused look. Ana then bent down.

“Just real quick”

She wrapped her hands around the injured ankle and did her best. She wasn’t entirely sure she was doing this right, but the ankle did seem to improve. Myra moved it experimentally as Ana straightened out.

“Better?”

“Ah... yes. Thank you.”

“It was a minor hurt.”

“Look, we-”

They both turned at the sound of clopping. Petyr was steering his horse over slowly enough for people to get out of the way without any trampling or dangerous rushing. Seen up close, his armour consisted of a breastplate, shoulder guards, greaves, and shin guards over a body suit of some sort, and topped by a helmet decorated by a multicoloured plume. The golden eagle on the front of the plate matched the embroidered one on Myra’s chest. It occurred to Ana to take her own chest in more thoroughly, and she found a stylised eagle pattern in the white embroidery.

“The last few ran off,” he announced. “It seemed risky to chase them down the streets in small numbers.”

Looking past him, Ana noticed that those who had given chase were coming back as well.

“Good,” she said. “We... we have won the ground for now.”

Petyr and Myra looked at one another.

“So did you go to the Woodforth Building?” he asked.

“I didn’t get the chance,” the cream-clad woman replied. “But I did eat your damn peach.”

“Tasty, right? It certainly improved your sense of style.”

Myra stroked her striking tailcoat with an air of some self-consciousness.

“Please don’t remind me,” she sighed.

Petyr took his helmet off and smiled for a second or two.

“Yes. You... you don’t like wearing your outfit. I remember that. But we must... represent the city, don’t we?”

“Regalia,” Ana said. “We have recovered our regalia.”

She could tell she’d triggered more memories in the two.

“Well, sorry I am late,” Myra said. “It seems you’d already done most of it.”

“We all did our part,” Ana said, and now raised her voice as she turned to face the general crowd.

With the immediate fighting over, the people were back to balancing between tension and confusion. Most seemed to be gathering into groups and talking animatedly between themselves. But the three of them were definitely the centre of attention.

“Let it be remembered!” Ana shouted, amplifying her voice with a bit of power. “Let it be remembered that the people of the city rose up in their own liberation!”

This earned her a chorus of cheers. It was the joy of victory and restored pride, and it stirred Ana enough that she didn’t trust her voice to hold up for any immediate follow-ups.

“You always had a knack for those,” Myra said and took a friendly hold of Ana’s arm. “You always...”

She looked confused and trailed off.

“It’s not all back, is it?” Petyr asked. “For any of us?”

“No,” Ana said. “I think I’m still... sort of going by rote memory.”

“That’s a relief,” he said. “I thought it might just be me.”

He dismounted. Ana expected his armour to rattle, but the masterful craftsmanship that had gone into creating it kept the metal as quiet as cloth.

“Hello,” Myra said to the horse and gave it an affectionate stroke. “Uh...”

“Savalan,” Petyr told her.

“Right.”

He looked to the station and turned more serious.

“Has either of you figured out exactly what is going on here?”

“I’m working on it,” Myra said. “Or rather, I’m letting it all come on its own.”

“I seem to recall it had something to do with the war,” Ana said.

“We need to confront the chief,” Myra said firmly, casting a harsh look at the station.

“What about the mayor?” Ana asked.

“Who is the mayor?” Petyr replied pointedly. “What is their name?”

Ana sighed, feeling embarrassed at how easy it was to pull at these threads, given how thoroughly fooled she’d been.

“There is no mayor,” she said out loud, to cement it to herself. “There really isn’t. It’s just the police chief.”

“And the Green Bomber,” Myra said. “He should be in a cell. I think we need to hear what he has to say.”

“We know him,” Petyr stated confidently. “We all do.”

“Yeah,” Myra said. “Let’s find out how. Let’s gather the final pieces.”

“I need to tend to the wounded,” Ana said, and pointed towards the makeshift field hospital in the back, although none of them could see it through the crowds. “I feel I should-”

“I feel all three of us need to do this, Ana,” Petyr said. “And I don’t mean I have an opinion; I mean I feel it.”

Ana hesitated, haunted by her pull to do the most immediate good.

“We have things in hand, Ana,” Sam said. He’d been a little off to the side, receiving updates via messengers. “For now. No one’s going to die. You guys go do what you need.”

He hesitated, taking in Petyr and Myra.

“It’s good to see you all again,” he then said. “I’m not... I’m still not sure what is going on here, but I know it’s good to see you.”

He motioned for the station.

“Now please; end this.”

Ana nodded with some reluctance.

“Work with Damia, and whoever is willing to step up,” she told him. “Keep order. I think we might face another attack once our enemy can gather themselves.”

“And you’d better arrange a guard by the bridge,” Petyr said. “But please make sure people don’t cross it. Spread that around, and do it fast. There’s something going on beneath the ground in High Town.”

“Beneath the ground?” Sam repeated.

“I’ll get back to you on that.”

He turned back to the station.

“Shall we?”