After the water trench debacle, to my utter embarrassment, Eleanor had to support part of my weight when we entered the clay house. My legs still trembled when we made it inside, but I recovered enough to let go of her.
The entryway comprised of blue tarps to form the idea of a room, where we dried off and removed some of our gear. Past the tarps, the interior had a more welcoming presentation than expected. Cluttered, yes, but warm and peaceful. A hearth in the middle burned brightly beneath the industrial chimney. Benchtops lined the far wall, a landmass for cities of glassware, ceramics, and tools. A rolled-up inflatable mattress and sleeping bag sat near the fire, dusty and aged. Opposite, a tattered suggestion of a plastic-covered couch and table provided some semblance of it being a home.
‘Alright, let’s get this over with.’ The woman pulled on a baggy T-shirt and slumped onto the couch, knee over knee, foot bobbing to an internal rhythm. ‘Am I the witch of Alderrow? Yes. Can I turn people into rats or koalas? Sure. Do I make love potions? No. Will that be all?’
Eleanor and I exchanged uneasy looks. ‘We were told Lady Marsh could be found here,’ I said, and brought out the bag of coffee beans from my satchel.
‘Hmm?’ She waggled a finger at the coffee beans. ‘Polite and generous. Where’re you from?’
‘Vandagriff Academy.’
Her foot went still. ‘Polite and generous, but disobedient. I’m sure you were told to avoid the town witch.’
‘Are you a witch?’
‘I already said.’
‘But are you really a witch?’
She gave a humourless smile. ‘Lady Marsh is fine. I’m a mage, Scorpius constellation.’
My shoulders stiffened. ‘Not afraid I’ll inform the authorities?’
‘They know I’m here, they won’t let me leave, and they know I don’t have anywhere to go.’ Lady Marsh used a utility knife to open the bag of coffee beans, and poured them into a coffee machine among the glassware. ‘So, if you’re not here to see the witch, what’re you doing?’
‘We’re here to ask—’
Lady Marsh pressed a button on the machine. Mechanical rumbling blocked part of my sentence.
‘—Sergio Nicodemo.’
Mention of Vandagriff caused Lady Marsh’s foot to freeze. Now, her whole body froze. A mug of coffee got made, but she didn’t move to take it. When she turned to us, it felt like she had to force her neck muscles into action. ‘You said you were from Vandagriff. Students, I presume?’
‘Of course.’
Lady Marsh reached inside her pocket. Her hand stayed there. ‘Come closer. What’s your names?’
Eleanor and I complied. Lady Marsh took special interest in my name and face. ‘Fornax. Sergio did mention he was in the middle of a job for your people.’ She rose, eyes narrowed, and touched my hair, causing me to recoil.
‘He’s been here?’ I asked, slapping at her hand.
‘Not too long ago, I think. Hard to keep track of time.’
‘Why?’
‘I spend a lot of time in here, and the rain—’
‘Why did Sergio Nicodemo come here?’
‘Why the interest? Your family send you?’
‘’Cause he’s dead,’ Eleanor said. ‘We found his body.’
‘My-my.’ Lady Marsh cleaned her teeth with a long fingernail. ‘Suppose his fears were well-founded.’ She nodded at our expressions. ‘Yes, he came here. Yes, to see me. He feared somebody or some people wished him ill, so he wanted safety measures from me. I’ll admit, I had a certain fondness for him and his artless naivety, so I gave him quite a supply of poison antidotes. Unfortunate it didn’t save him.’
‘He wasn’t poisoned,’ Eleanor said, causing me to nudge her. There wasn’t a good reason to reveal all we knew.
‘How did he die, then?’
I said:
‘He was…halved.’
‘Cut in half?’
‘In a manner of speaking.’
Lady Marsh pressed her hands together and rested her chin on her fingertips. ‘If you’ll allow me a moment, I might be able to explain my theory.’
At our tacit approval, she continued:
‘I am an exile of Gredotion Road Clan, but clanless or not, I have continued my research on sowing crops while mobile. No matter. What I am saying is this: There are ways to hear gossip among the clans, if you are privy to the methods. The clans have whispered of a group called the Cult of the Pale Maiden, a rather ghastly unit of fanatics who use clan methods but lack honour or greater purpose.
‘Now, not long ago, the Cult claimed responsibility for, in their words, half of a perfect corpse. Sounds like our friend Sergio, doesn’t it?’
I cast a look at Eleanor, whose jaw worked in idle wrath. ‘Cult of the Pale Maiden,’ she said under her breath.
‘That’s all I can offer,’ Lady Marsh said. ‘We done?’
‘We are,’ I replied, uncertain we’d make it back to the tour before the hour’s end. Plus, we hadn’t eaten lunch.
‘How come you aren’t affected by the rain?’ Eleanor said, abrupt in curiosity, as if asking on another’s behalf.
Lady Marsh’s features lit up. ‘Come, come! I’ll show you!’ She led Eleanor to a countertop of research equipment. I didn’t follow, conditioned to be wary of Scorpius mages. ‘Drink this.’
‘Eleanor,’ I warned. Mage or not, drinking random concoctions lacked every trace of wisdom.
‘This potion is my latest invention,’ Lady Marsh explained. ‘By drinking it regularly, my body no longer deteriorates from the rain. Would you like to know why?’
‘Yes.’
‘No.’
Respectively, Eleanor and I had answered in unison.
Lady Marsh beamed at Eleanor and pulled out a sheaf of hand-written notes, tiny scrawl, legible only to her. ‘The rain’s properties are a product of the Dusk. Through rigorous testing, I was able to distil a potion that serves as a sort of milder version of the rain. By imbibing it, the body builds a resistance, though only for a short while. I’m hoping to make a longer-lasting version. Go ahead, drink some and your skin should be unaffected for approximately twelve hours.’
Popping the cork, Eleanor gulped down the vial before I could intervene. ‘Tastes like milk,’ Eleanor said, sticking her tongue in the vial. ‘I don’t feel any different.’
‘What’s wrong with you?’ I gasped, pulling her away from Lady Marsh. ‘If the potion was what she claimed, why would she be the town pariah?’
‘Because, my distrustful Fornax friend, though this is not my first experiment, it is the first to succeed. My previous efforts were…detrimental to the crops. And buildings. And, once, a handful of the town’s inhabitants. But they volunteered, so I can’t be blamed for their current symptoms.’
I pulled us toward the exit. Eleanor might’ve been poisoned. She needed to get checked by a doctor. Physically and mentally.
#
We donned our rain gear in the tarp area and prepared to leave. Fortunately, it sounded like the rain had subsided to a mild drizzle. If we ran, we’d make it back to the centre of town with enough time to buy croissants I saw in the window of an eatery.
Except, pushing open the door, we stepped in full view of gathered figures across the three trenches. Though the rain gear gave them a uniform blandness, the middle figure’s stern posture and arms akimbo suggested Mr Willigan. Beside him stood Mrs Geisler and a couple people from Alderrow.
A sinking panic engulfed me, that sensation of knowing you’re in trouble moments before reprimands. In those moments, my mind always conjured irrational schemes, like in this case, I briefly thought going back into Lady Marsh’s abode might somehow spare us punishment, as if the teacher lacked object permanence.
Eleanor, meanwhile, strode to the trenches. Once more unto the breach, so to speak. Mr Willigan began to shout, mostly nothings about disobedience and our actions reflecting poorly on Vandergriff. I moved gingerly, for being shouted at didn’t inspire boldness, Fornax or not. Crossing the trenches was no longer a harrowing task, thanks to the lighter rain.
Mr Willigan berated us for a few minutes longer, ire focused on Eleanor. I stood beside her, but I may as well have been invisible. ‘Whose idea was this?’ he asked.
‘Mine,’ I said quickly.
He looked to me for the first time. ‘Is that true?’ he asked Eleanor.
Eleanor shrugged. ‘Yeah, pretty much.’
I glared at her. I didn’t want her to argue, but I hadn’t expected her to so readily leave me with the blame.
Mr Willigan, fists seemingly fused to his hips, examined us. ‘I know burnouts and liars,’ he said through his teeth. ‘And you, Miss Wilson, are both.’ He nudged Eleanor in the direction of the town. ‘I don’t know how you got into Vandagriff, but if you have any respect for this institute, you’d leave.’
‘I don’t, so I won’t,’ Eleanor replied, walking ahead.
‘And don’t think for a second that you’re going into the city on the Auroch! Miss Harkenfield can take your spot.’
Eleanor paused long enough to reveal her displeasure. A mistake. It gave Mr Willigan the satisfaction of knowing the punishment stung. I jogged after Eleanor, frustrated but relieved at the exemptions granted me.
We marched back into town, escorted by the teachers and townsfolk. The other students had already assembled with Mr Porter, and they chattered at our approach.
The afternoon saw the tour continue, with Eleanor and I under close scrutiny. It ended in a wide open hall, which the town used as an emergency shelter and gathering place. For students, it was a time to unwind and fill out a quiz sheet about what we’d learned throughout the day.
‘Cult of the Pale Maiden,’ I murmured, next to Eleanor, speeding through my sheet.
‘What’s question eight?’ she replied.
‘I’ve read about cults both pre- and post-Dusk, but I’m not sure about this one.’
Eleanor tugged the edge of my sheet to get a better look, copying my answers in a nigh unreadable scrawl. You’d be forgiven for thinking she used a fictional language known only to her.
‘I’ve heard of them,’ she said.
‘What do they do, other than steal halves of corpses?’
Eleanor shrugged. ‘Kidnappings, I think.’
The excursion drew to a close, and since Eleanor got disqualified from riding the Auroch, Cecilia Harkenfield, the other volunteer, went in her stead. Cecilia was in class-B, so I hadn’t talked to her at school except to exchange pleasantries.
Her currently cold countenance and colder demeanour toward me evinced a displeasure about us sharing the Auroch. She’d volunteered after Eleanor, and must’ve had no interest in the Auroch without her. Eleanor and Cecilia shared a certain aloofness, so they were bound to either be hateful enemies or close friends. I was glad for the latter outcome; Eleanor could benefit from friends.
The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
The hour of departure came and while the other students went to the train station, Cecilia and I climbed into the Auroch. The inside smelled of old, sour vegetables, and sweat. Dried blood covered parts of the riveted metal like flaking wallpaper. ‘Take a seat anywhere,’ Guard-One said, while Guard-Two climbed behind the wheel.
The crops being transported sat in a grated metal trench, while two narrow benches, little more than pieces of welded steel, lined the inner wall of the truck. Slits cast bars of cold afternoon light onto us. Cecilia sat nearest the back, while I took the opposite bench and sat near the front.
We couldn’t see the guards, and they couldn’t see us.
The teachers didn’t accompany us. There needed to be sufficient number of faculty with the main body of students during transit.
I poked vegetables through the grate. There may have been an interesting contrast between organic (vegetables) and inorganic (Auroch), but the vegetables were of such massive size as to be equal in strangeness to the Auroch.
The door creaked open, rust against rust. I glanced, expecting one of the guards, until Eleanor hopped up the steps. She hastened to close the door, and slid next to me. I sharply inhaled. ‘What’re you…?’
‘Sneaking aboard.’
‘How?’
‘Easy to sneak away when everybody was changing. When one door opens, another also opens, you know?’
‘I take it you like upsetting the faculty?’
‘Screw ’em. I’m not here for fun. Call it a hunch, but I think there’s something strange about the veggies.’ We both looked at the massive vegetables in front of our shins.
‘Other than their size?’ I asked.
Eleanor massaged her neck. ‘My hunch believes there is something inside the vegetables. All I need to do is…’ Eleanor reached to lift the lid of the grated area, but it had a heavy padlock. The guards had the key.
The Auroch’s engine grumbled alive, a wakened beast. Momentum slid us along the bench and pressed our shoulders together. The Auroch exhaled black smoke and advanced down the uneven road, circling a wide street and aiming at the city. Three smaller Aurochs followed, forming a convoy with enough people to deter the Dusk. If we maintained our present route and speed, we’d reach the city with only minor harassment by the Entities.
‘What’s inside?’ Cecilia poked her head over the vegetables, causing Eleanor to startle.
‘I-I want to find out.’
Wordless, Cecilia rounded the vegetables and kneeled beside us. Eleanor had a flip knife, the sort with undesirable reputations, which she eased into a massive zucchini. A trickle of fluid came out with the blade, followed by crystalline fragments. Salt. I smelled garlic. But, that shouldn’t have been possible. There weren’t massive garlic cloves on the Auroch, meaning the salt had to be infused with…Phoenix-class magic.
Cecilia rubbed some of the salt between her fingers and tasted it. ‘Phoenix,’ she confirmed, though I wondered where her awareness came from. Phoenix-class magic was the most recently discovered magic, and it got outlawed in mere months. Not many people knew about it.
‘What’s Phoenix?’ Eleanor asked.
‘Phoenix-class magic,’ I replied. ‘It’s new, are rare.’
‘And illegal,’ Cecilia added.
Cecilia and I seemed to know an equal amount on the topic. That being: Not much at all. Magic from the Phoenix constellation related to survivability, longevity, and possibly—if you liked conspiracies—immortality. But, being outlawed, very few Phoenix mages existed, and even less research had been put into practical applications. The exact reason for it being outlawed was equally shrouded.
What did Phoenix-infused salts being transported in vegetables mean? And the greater implication? Did the salt come from the town of Alderrow, or was it used for distribution? Did they get orders from the city, and if so, from whom? Our trio discussed it for a while, reached dead-ends, went in circles of ignorance, before finally changing topics. We did our best to mitigate what shaped up to be ultimately a boring and uncomfortable ride back to the city, the kind of experience better recalled than lived.
It was boring until after half-an-hour, the Auroch braked, swerved, and lurched sideways, sending us tumbling away from the bench. I hit my ribs hard on the vegetable cage. Cecilia and Eleanor tumbled further to the back. Winded, I got to my knees and from the slitted windows spotted a few vehicles pursuing the convoy. Marauders, raiders, bandits—whatever you wanted to call them.
Imagine the town and city both had domes around them. There would be a point where the two domes were nearest to touching. That was the route we were supposed to take: The least amount of time exposed to the Dusk. By swerving, the convoy had gone off that route. Worse, we plunged into uncertain paths, more suggestion of a course than true road. Trees passed in a blur. The smaller Auroch vehicles hadn’t followed us. Some may have gone to engage the attackers, or they lost sight of us in the Dusk.
Projected voices came from the pursuing vehicles telling us to stop the convoy. Protocol of transport convoys dictated they engage in a certain level of parley with hostile forces, either negotiation or ejecting some of the cargo to appease or distract them. What protocol did not dictate was revving the engine and accelerating way beyond the bounds of safety.
‘What’re they doing?’ I winced, trying to reach the window between cargo and driver.
We bounced and bounded along uneven ground, rattling the cage and my teeth, pursuers undeterred. A few heavy-calibre shot rang out, perhaps to puncture the Auroch’s tyres.
We were way off-course, way off-road. Common belief held that the Dusk maintained a constant level of light, that sunset tone, but that’s because few people had gone beyond the usual routes. The Dusk was capable of darkening, as if the further from humans you got, the lower the sun hung.
Cecilia and Eleanor had recovered themselves, but neither had any suggestions. Eleanor, in particular, kept to the window, despite my telling her it wasn’t safe.
We cleared flora and reached a stretch of shrubbery and flat, red earth. Our pursuers drew alongside the Auroch and sent kinetic blasts. The Auroch rose onto two wheels, careening wide, before hitting a ditch and rolling completely, vulnerable as an inverted turtle.
Cecilia, Eleanor, and I tumbled around the interior. Vegetables got crushed against the grating and splattered us with juices and rind. We were alive but shaken and bruised. We hadn’t broken bones, but blood dripped from a gash over Cecilia’s brow. Eleanor tried to treat her wound, but only smeared blood onto her hands and face.
‘We need to leave,’ I panted, leaning against the door. My shoulder and hip felt bruised, so I switched to kicking. After the fourth strike, it flung open. Guard-Two, the driver, stumbled out around the same time, dragging his leg, a handgun loose in his grip. His head spun to and fro, frantic and deranged; he wasn’t drug-addled, but instead afflicted by conventional desperation and panic.
I helped Cecilia and Eleanor out of the Auroch, and peered into the front of the truck. The other guard slumped over the dashboard, a branch impaled in his neck. I swallowed bile. ‘Can you see the tree line?’ I asked Eleanor, though it appeared as a dark blur among the Dusk. ‘The bandits only care about the crops. We’ll be safe if we get clear.’ Spoken aloud, I believed my words.
Guard-Two whipped an arm to get our attention. ‘Can’t get captured. Can’t. They can’t get the salt.’ He spat blood. He raised the handgun toward us, not all the way, enough to keep us unmoving.
‘We can’t fight them,’ I said, incredulous.
‘You better try.’ He spat again, red spittle clinging to his chin. ‘Nobody gets this salt. We’re dead either-or.’
We’d careened quite the distance, so the attackers still needed time to close the gap. There was enough time to escape, so long as we dealt with the lunatic guard.
I glanced up at the plain, blanketed sky of purplish-blue. A flying, silhouetted speck, like a trick in my vision, got larger, got closer. ‘A Sentinel!’ I called, pointing to the growing speck. They must’ve been dispatched from Alderrow or Melbourne, or they could’ve been on a surreptitious patrol.
‘Nobody gets the salt,’ the guard rambled, undistracted, spitting for the third time.
The flying figure dipped, glided, and made a sort of scooping motion, so they landed neatly upright, a couple meters behind the guard. They’d landed noiseless but cleared their throat to get the guard’s attention.
What’re the chances? I thought, for the flying mage who joined us wore a well-tailored navy suit. The Erudite of Flight: Wira Kusuma.
The guard spun, handgun trailing. Kusuma flicked his wrist, sending a palm-sized metal disc soaring in an unnatural arc to knock the handgun to the ground.
Kusuma walked without haste and tapped the guard’s shoulder. The guard floated centimetres off the ground, weightless, unable to change his orientation no matter how much he flapped his arms and yelled.
Kusuma reached us next, and I settled against the Auroch, glad the crisis had reached a turning point. ‘Hello, girls,’ he said, with a dandy-like wave.
Eleanor inched back inside the Auroch, Cecilia in tow.
My mouth hung ajar, unsure how to ask for help, but Kusuma left us and rounded the Auroch. I presumed he’d face the incoming attackers, but instead he flung open the back doors and rifled through the vegetables. The vegetables floated out from the Auroch, like a fairy-tale procession, and shot like cannonballs into the sky and far, far away. Some of the vegetables reached the incoming vehicles, causing them to swerve and stop, unsure if they’d hit an animal or came under fire.
Shock stiffened my countenance. The upper-half of my face showed bewilderment, while the lower-half held tense humour, as if the Erudite of Flight would at any second reveal he’d played a prank by destroying the vegetables.
‘You three’re on the Alderrow excursion, right?’ Kusuma said, wiping his hands with a handkerchief.
‘That’s right,’ I stammered, nauseated, coming down from the adrenaline.
‘Did you notice anything strange about the vegetables in the Auroch?’
Lips pressed tightly together, I shook my head with vigour.
‘Is that so?’ He levitated a zucchini and inspected it, finding the incision Eleanor had made with her knife. Salt continued to spill. ‘You, rental cop.’ He crooked his finger, and the guard floated toward him. ‘Who paid you?’
The guard spat. Pink phlegm floated away in pear-shaped bubbles.
‘Aquarius? Fletcher? Fornax?’ At the last name, he glanced at me with a wicked grin. ‘Might explain why you’re here, Victoria.’
I frowned, now unsure if Kusuma’s arrival was good fortune or grave portent. ‘What’re you talking about?’
‘Smuggling of Phoenix-class salts. Pretty popular these days, among the right folk.’ He nudged the guard, sending him floating into the murky Dusk, screaming, fated to be found by Entities. I held my breath. ‘It doesn’t much matter who paid him,’ Kusuma sighed. ‘They’re all the same.’
Kusuma stepped toward me. I pressed against the overturned Auroch, shrinking from the Erudite. ‘Your folks probably claim magic helps equality, don’t they? But it’s quite the opposite, in fact. On the surface, anybody who works hard enough should be able to get magic, but why, then, are most of Vandagriff’s students from privileged families? Why are said families able to consistently acquire the same categories of magic?
‘Your own, for example. The Fornax family. Do you all have Fornax-class magic because of intelligence and hard work, or do you jealously guard the required knowledge to ensure you have a higher—nearly guaranteed—chance of success? An ordinary kid would have to read hundreds of works about literature and history to get the chance at Fornax-class magic, but through years of trial-and-error, your people already have a decent idea what needs to be studied.’
I wet my lips and glanced sidelong. I didn’t see Eleanor or Cecilia.
‘I had to go to Tanstock Mage Academy,’ Kusuma continued, now pacing, voice rising. ‘Tanstock! Do you think that was my first choice? Do you think I wouldn’t have preferred Vandagriff? But I lacked the connections. I became the Erudite of Flight through the merits of my own abilities, talent and effort combined, but think about what I could’ve achieved if my starting point was better. You can’t fathom what I had to sacrifice! If those conceited morons at Vandagriff knew how to find talented kids, we’d have a city of Erudite-worthy mages.
‘Not to mention the UMDE. Unification Movement and blah-blah-blah. They may not be stupid, but they’re naïve, which might be worse. They think connecting cities will help? They want us back to pre-Dusk days, when people were selfish and evil, where an intellectual like me would’ve been scorned.’
Kusuma whirled to me, but he didn’t “see” me. He saw a set of captive ears.
‘Sergio was hopeless. His approach was to find all the most powerful players in the cities, thinking they’d share their resources. Know what would’ve happened? He would’ve unwittingly made a super conglomerate of nepotistic magic hoarders. Well, pardon my vulgarity, but that is a bullshit solution.’
Hands behind his head, fingers interlinked, Kusuma breathed deeply in-and-out toward the sky. Entities and the convoy’s attackers drew nearer. Kusuma checked his hefty, gold-plated watch.
‘It feels good to get that out,’ he sighed. ‘The worst problems are those that can’t be shared, and there are scarce few who can understand my plight.’
Still shaken, I tried to process Kusuma’s rambling, only for him to tap my arm. I yelped and began to float.
‘This isn’t personal, Victoria,’ Kusuma said. ‘But, say la vie, that’s life, and this is a good chance to prune the Fornax family. And the two girls hiding in the Auroch? I can’t let you die without letting them die, so, you know: It can’t be helped.’
Kusuma reached into the Auroch, screamed, and recoiled. Blood ran in a thick trail across the back of his hand. Eleanor jumped from the Auroch, knife brandished, but Kusuma slapped her with a vicious backhand. She floated and continued to wave her limbs in wild, impotent attacks.
‘They only make this shirt in Brisbane,’ Kusuma seethed, as blood soaked into his cuff. ‘Do you know long it takes to fly there?’ He reached into the Auroch and floated a delirious and limpid Cecilia.
As the three of us floated a few meters from the Auroch, rain drops began to fall. Kusuma swore and spun a finger, causing Eleanor—and her knife—to face away. With deft application of his magic, Kusuma floated her rain gear and donned it himself. As an afterthought, he floated the rain gear from Cecilia and I. In seconds, a stinging sensation emanated from my head and shoulders, where the raindrops fell.
‘Farewell, girls,’ Kusuma said, and shot vertically to the clouds, leaving a sharp scent of pine in his wake.
Entities encroached. They’d reach us before the vehicles closing upon the Auroch. We continued to float, worsening my nausea. In the distance, the guard Kusuma had floated earlier began to scream. Gunshots went off. In a few seconds the screams and shots fell silent.
We drifted in different directions. I, to the trees. Cecilia, to the front of the Auroch. Eleanor, to the back.
The rain grew more painful, as if droplets of boiling water struck me. The pain distracted me from my fate. I had not yet comprehended I couldn’t escape. My family wasn’t coming to help. I had no magic. The horror stories about Entities told with flashlights under chins were about to come true.
I whipped my limbs about to escape Kusuma’s magic or grab something, but my hands found nothing, so I changed to covering my head from the rain.
As I drifted a few more meters from the Auroch, a figure dashed across my vision. Eleanor. She sprinted toward Cecilia. How had she escaped? Had Kusuma’s magic been spread too thin? I was his primary target, so perhaps he applied more magic to me than the other two.
Eleanor reached Cecilia and pulled her to the ground, which stopped her floating. I figured that was the solution: Contact with a greater surface, like grounding for electricity. I struggled anew, stretching my toes to the ground, hoping to catch a mound of dirt. I stretched until my joints hurt, but I couldn’t reach the ground.
I was in less danger than Eleanor and Cecilia. Though they stopped floating, Entities loomed before them. Cecilia lay on the ground, unable to fight, pelted by rain. Eleanor raised both fists, as if to fight. For reference, it took multiple firearms discharging multiple rounds to destroy a single Entity. Two fists and good ol’ self-preservation didn’t count for much.
Except, when Eleanor swung, an arc of distorted air and light followed her fist. I blinked. The Entities disintegrated.
I smelled…mint.
Eleanor sprinted to me and pulled my feet to the ground. I stopped floating. ‘What was…?’
We didn’t have time to chat. The convoy’s attackers had arrived. Kusuma, the rain, Entities—clearing one danger only seemed to spur another. The attackers piled out of their vehicles and came to us, weapons drawn. Hands seized me. I kicked and screamed, and a second later Eleanor punched a girl in the nose.
The attackers shoved us into a van and sped away from the crash. But within half-an-hour, they stopped, opened the doors, and put a tarp over Cecilia and I, before shoving us out. ‘The rest of the convoy is over there,’ one of them said, pointing up the road.
I lifted the tarp and spotted the smaller Aurochs around a hundred meters away. The van kicked up mud and sped away. Only after they left did I realise Cecilia and I had been let out, but not Eleanor. I shouted at the van, but they didn’t stop. I tugged my hair, useless to help. Rain fell harder. Cecilia’s head injury looked serious; I had to help her. Besides, the sooner we got back to the city, the sooner I could alert the authorities about Eleanor’s abduction.