They arrived at the gap a short while after, the boys helping the girls to scramble over the loose pile of rubble as best they could. A few moments later and they were running down the long path that led to Caedmon’s estate. They didn’t get far, however, when Anice sensed her father’s aura closing in on them at a rapid pace from the direction of their home, accompanied by Stason and Mr. Albeck. Judging by their speed, they were on horseback.
They came into sight about three hundred paces away from the bend in the pathway where it wound around the large hill that obscured the estate from view, healthy oak trees lining the dirt road on either side. All were dressed in clean white clothes, their hair slick with styling grease and their holy ovals dangling from their necks as they hurried down the path with purpose.
Caedmon’s silver eyes flashed with relief as he caught sight of her, at which point he spurred his steed—Alistar’s white palfrey, Star—onward as fast as the beast could manage. He arrived in front of them a moment later, scrambling to the ground so frantically that he tripped on his own feet during the dismount. Not caring for his image, he pulled her into a tight embrace as soon as he found his footing.
“My girl…” he said with a weak voice. “My sweet girl. Thank Lucian you’re okay!”
“Papa,” she cried, tears streaming down her face as soon as she smelled the familiar scent of parchment and ink that always seemed to follow her father around. “Alder…Alder was killed by the demon!”
Caedmon’s pupils contracted, as did those of the other men. Maintaining his hold on his daughter, he stared over her head at Corrie, who seemed the most in control of his mind, and said, “What’s going on in town? Someone seems to be fighting the intruder. Did the delegation arrive to subjugate him?”
“It’s Sword Master Tramon. He told us to go to your estate. He said you were helping the townsfolk flee.”
Processing the information, Caedmon looked around with wide, worried eyes. “Where’s Alistar? Was…was he with you just now?”
“He went somewhere this morning. We don’t know where he is.”
“He wasn’t at the parade grounds,” Zech added with a cracked voice. “He wasn’t there…”
Mr. Albeck dismounted from his horse with a flourish of his long, flowing robes, his eyes narrowing in anger as he seemed to discern something from off in the distance.
“What the hell are they doing?”
Everyone followed his gaze, a tide of mixed emotions sweeping over them as they spied a large host of people off in a distant pocket of the countryside. Most of them were wearing white clothes, which made it easier to see them from so far away, the oval banners on display revealing them to be the delegation from Providence Region that everyone had been patiently waiting for throughout the afternoon.
That’s…the delegation?
A massive pillar of fire shot skyward from somewhere in Mayhaven accompanied by an ear-splitting roar that might have manifested from someone’s nightmare, like a hellish beacon sending some devious signal.
Confusion and alarm were prevalent in the eyes of those present, especially in the gaze of Anice’s father.
“Why aren’t they helping us?” she cried as she watched the thousands of delegates remain idle in the distance. “Isn’t the church supposed to protect us from demons?”
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“Let’s head home for now,” her father said after several moments of silence. “I only managed to help a few hundred people evacuate, but even so, it’s my responsibility to ensure their safety.”
“What do we tell Madeline?” came Stason’s quiet voice.
It hadn’t been long since the sweet house servant had given birth to Alder’s child, a wide-eyed girl that was destined to be the closest playmate of the horse master’s daughter, Little Lauren.
“The truth,” said Mr. Albeck, a pragmatic look in his hazel eyes. “Anything else will only make the eventual realization worse.”
The other adults dismounted and ran alongside Anice and her friends so as not to leave them behind on the return trip to the estate. For the first time in her life, Anice didn’t feel any comfort in treading the tree-lined pathway that she had walked hundreds if not thousands of times over the years. Today the tall oaks seemed to be mocking her as she hurried along with tears streaming down her face, their leaves swaying in the wind as if this were just another ordinary day, as if all was right in the world.
Alie…please be at home. Please!
The entire time that they ran, Anice was worried over her cousin’s fate. He had promised to meet her and the others at the parade grounds so that they could all witness the delegation’s arrival together. Although she hadn’t sensed him amongst those that had died on South Street, a terrible anxiety filled her heart as she prayed to Lord Lucian in earnest for the very first time in her life. More than anything, she feared that Alistar had encountered the demon before it had arrived in town.
Suddenly and without warning, an arrow flashed across the roadway and pierced Stason’s shoulder when the young stable master stepped in front of Violet to protect her from the projectile. He fell to his knees with a grunt, tugging at his horse’s reins so that the beast came to stand between the Dozen and the direction that the arrow had come from. Sweat-streaked face twisted in pain, his brown eyes immediately widened with worry as he looked down the road at the distant estate where he’d left his wife and daughter.
“Jin!” hissed Caedmon, who immediately bent down to inspect Stason’s wound.
Mr. Albeck, meanwhile, responded to his friend’s call by creating a large wall of ice to protect the group from their unknown assailants. About four paces tall and three times as wide, the convex wall was composed of countless small, scale-like plates that folded over one another to create a flexible, reinforced structure.
Several more arrows clinked against the barrier the instant it was erected, falling to the ground with soft thuds.
“Who’s there?” called Caedmon, instinctively glancing at Anice and then looking around in search of their attackers. “Stay your hands, we have children with us!” As he spoke, he broke the arrow shaft in Stason’s arm with some effort and then pushed it out of the backside of his shoulder. The pale green light of his mending spell was overshadowed by unrelenting sunlight from the clear skies above, Stason’s breaths growing less haggard after twenty or so seconds of medical attention.
Although no more arrows followed, Mr. Albeck narrowed his pine-coloured eyes before lifting an arm and casting an advanced spell that gave life to a strong gust of wind. The momentary gale kicked up a large cloud of dust that stretched on for over a hundred paces down the pathway, the upper foliage of the oak trees shaking this way and that as if in the face of a coming storm. Several silhouettes became vaguely visible within the drifting dust cloud, hazy outlines that betrayed the locations of those that had attacked them.
“They’re hiding behind the trees,” said Mr. Albeck, who abruptly converted a dozen or so of the icy scales into long, hardened icicles that simultaneously shot off toward the shimmering, partially see-through outlines that he had just drawn attention to.
Caedmon sent Anice a desperate look and then addressed her and her friends with authority. “Be on your guard! Whoever’s attacking us, they’re fully aware of who we are. This is a planned attack.”
Zech and Jaden subconsciously stepped in front of the girls, the two of them looking around for anything that might serve as a weapon. As for Corrie…
Where’d he go? The boy was gone, an inexplicable development that Anice had neither the time nor mental capacity to worry over. Remembering all of her lessons, she attempted to consolidate her energies so that she could fire off a basic combustion spell should the need arise, but her mind state was too erratic to properly do so.
As her father stood up to face their attackers alongside her mentor, Anice ducked down to hug Stason’s arm, her knees shaking in fright as she waited for the other side to make a move. She didn’t have to wait long, for all of Mr. Albeck’s projectiles sailed through empty air, sudden breaks in the dust cloud showing that the hidden ambushers were sprinting toward the group from several directions.