CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

There Will Follow a Storm #

It seemed hours she’d been running, but she realistically knew that it couldn’t have been that long. They’d escaped the warehouse (the cloud hadn’t pursued them, as if unsure what to do now) and were now running through the main parts of town. No one seemed out on the streets except for an unshaven, rumpled man weaving on the sidewalk and singing some song only he knew in a badly off-key voice.

Sylvie grabbed him as well on the way by, though the smell of him nearly knocked her down; he was filthy and stank, as if he’d not bathed in a year!

“Yaaaah! The mad chicken woman’s got me!” he shouted, remarkably clearly for a drunk.

“Shut up.” Stetson told him coldly, holding onto him and looking disgusted as Sylvie kept moving. “You’re drunk.”

“Darn right! Booze is great!” the man said cheekily. Sylvie didn’t bother listening anymore as he started chanting at the top of his voice, “Ride ‘em cowboy, give me the booze! Ride ‘em cowboy, give me the booze!”

A quiet voice in her ear spoke. “Did you have to grab him?” Stetson asked irritably.

“Couldn’t…leave…him for…the…smoke.” She gasped as she ran. “Now…please…shut him…up so I can…concentrate!”

There came a sudden scuffle on her back, and she weaved a bit at the shifting weight, but it smoothed again and mercifully the drunk fell silent.

They kept the pace up to the hospital, through the doors, and up to the receptionist desk where all three of them skidded to a halt, practically sitting to stop on the slick floor. The receptionist, a pretty blond woman, yelled in terror at their arrival and threw herself behind her desk.

“Have you seen my father?” Sylvie asked her, breathing hard and leaning over the desk. “Greg Mathison. Please, tell me where he is!”

The receptionist hopped to her feet, an angry glint in her eye and opened her mouth, but she stopped when she saw the weapons that each wore, with the exception of the one guy on Sylvie’s back who seemed to have been gagged with a moldy piece of bread (as a matter of fact, it was his own sleeve). The drunk waved cheerfully at her, teetered, and would have fallen if Stetson hadn’t caught him.

“Uh,” she said, appearing unsure of herself. She quickly down at her computer and back up.

“He’s in room twenty, it’s down at the end of the hall. But please, walk. This is a hospital!” she shouted in vain as the three took off, their passengers hanging on resignedly for the ride.

They came to the plain wooden door and rushed through it, the door almost, but not quite, striking the wall as Sylvie led the way through and saw her father lying on the bed, seemingly dead.

Sylvie froze, her eyes wide with horror, as she beheld him, many wires connected to his fingers and chest, his vitals displayed on the nearby screen. She didn’t know much about how to read that information, but even to her the signals seemed thready and weak, and her mother’s face, looking up to see who had broken through the door, seemed worn and haggard as she leapt to her feet and rushed to embrace her daughter.

“I’m so glad you’re all right.” She sobbed.

“I’m fine, not even a scratch, didn’t win, but how’s dad!” Sylvie said impatiently, hugging her tight in return.

“He’s fine.” She said, her eyes full of tears, but whether of relief or worry she couldn’t tell. Her gaze wandered to the centaur passengers and she frowned when she saw Stetson and the drunk on her back.

“What…?” she asked in a trailing voice.

“Mom, it’s a long story.” Sylvie told her, “But while I’m alive, Tenebrae Cultor has gotten stronger, and I didn’t want to leave anyone in their way should they try and follow. He, (she gestured to the drunk) was wandering in the pathway and I plucked him along.”

She gagged. “Though I wish he could have been cleaner.” She snapped. “Get off my back! You stink!” for now that she had a moment to pause and rest, the smell had become nearly overpowering, and she felt dirty and used, as if she’d been rolling in a pig slop.

Stetson leaped down, dragging the drunk with him. The man dropped off like a sack of potatoes, and took Stetson down with him. It took the Chief and Bengal helping to get the drunk off him and back onto his feet, and when he did, it seemed he had more dirt on him than before.

“I think I’ll see our friend to a hospital room, and then go and get a shower somewhere.” Stetson said, tipping his hat in their direction. “I’ll look in when I’m done.”

“I’ve got to report back to HQ.” Bengal said worriedly. “This isn’t going to be easy to explain; I hope they listen!” he didn’t sound at all like his polished self, but rather rough and hoarse. Ben said nothing, but escorted the drunk with Stetson out to the receptionist and Bengal followed.

That left the three centaurs, Sylvie’s parents, and…Mrs. Grogan!

Sylvie blinked; she hadn’t noticed the other woman sitting in the corner chair next to an empty seat where her mother had been. The older woman was smiling in relief, and had her gaze locked onto her daughter.

“It’s good to see you back, Sylvie.’ She said aloud, bringing everyone’s attention to her. “Taryn was nearly frantic to find you, and get you back safely. I’m glad she succeeded!”

“Yes.” Sylvie nodded. “I can guess.” She grinned at Taryn’s fierce blush. “You should have seen her throwing that spear!”

“I have.” She said quietly. “And I don’t want to see her throwing that spear again.” Her brow darkened and she began to raise her voice heatedly. “This is a matter for the police now, Taryn. Let them arrest those bastards and stay here where it’s safe!”

The centaurs looked at one another grimly. They hadn’t spoken yet of what they’d seen, but something in their manner caught Mrs. Grogan’s attention and she frowned, falling silent.

“What is it?” she demanded.

Her daughter scudded a hoof but said nothing, as if she couldn’t believe what she’d seen herself.

Sylvie took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Do you remember that vision I had a while back? The one that terrified the hell out of me?”

Her mother nodded slowly, curiously.

“Well, tonight…tonight I saw Jacob Meyer summon that cloud monster from my dream, and I watched it eat him and become him.”

“WHAT!” her mom shouted, stunned. Mrs. Grogan looked equally surprised, and they both looked at Taryn for confirmation.

At her nod they turned back to Sylvie.

“What is going on here?” her mother demanded.

“Missus Mathison,” Taryn chided. “You know that I can do magic, and we know that Sylvie can as well, so why is it so surprising that the enemy has magic as well?”

“Yeah, only after they got it from me.” Sylvie sighed.

“I was meaning to ask you how that happened.” Taryn said slowly. “I expected…well…”

“You expected them to grind me up for magic paste?” Sylvie said with irony. “Well, to be honest when Nightshade had said they’d want to ‘extract’ my magic, that’s what I thought as well, but he’d gone about it differently. He had a bunch of stuff I recognized as being from mom and dad, you and Josh and the chief, and they were shot up and bloody, and he told me he’d killed everyone but me. I…sort of lost it and he took a glass vial and caught some of my tears.” She said uncomfortably, hating to admit that she’d been crying. Her mom’s face was sympathetic but the others simply waited for her to finish.

“From that he went back up to the stage, pricked his wrist and added his blood to the stone, then my tears, and did a chant. A black cloud came out of the stone and grew to the ceiling.” She continued to speak; telling them about her escape from the cage, her charge against the cult, and Taryn’s timely rescue. It seemed impossible to believe, but Sylvie knew every word to be true; her bones ached, her hide prickled where she’d rubbed it raw against the cage, and her legs were sore from her efforts against the door. The drug might have worn off, but her head still felt light and dizzy. The run there had certainly not helped anything in the slightest.

“Actually.” She said quietly. “If they could spare a place here I’m sure I could take a nap. Or maybe right here on the floor?” she managed.

She dimly felt herself falling and hands attempting to grasp her as she slipped into an abyss.

When Sylvie had fallen to the ground, Taryn had leapt to catch her, only just saving her from bumping her head on the end of the bed.

“Help!” she shouted out the door. “Help! Help here!”

Nurses came running in, pushing her gently, but firmly, away as they took Sylvie’s pulse and tried to rouse her.

“What happened?” came a new voice from the door. Taryn looked up and saw Dr. Merrick standing there, looking down concernedly at the unconscious centaur on the floor.

Quickly Taryn relayed all that had happened to them, and then how Sylvie had simply collapsed right there.

“One moment she seemed fine, and the next she just keeled over.” She said worriedly.

“Hmm, that is not good.” He said, brushing aside one of the nurses and gently feeling her pulse and then her head; “Hmm, cool and clammy, as I thought. Alright, I’m afraid we’re going to need your help, my dear; yours and this strapping young man here to help me get her to a room and a bed.”

“Doctor, we have no bed capable of taking her.” One of the nurses said nervously, looking down at the sleeping centaur, clearly wondering how on earth they were going to lift such a heavy girl off the floor.

“Of course we do.” Merrick disagreed. “I brought it from my own laboratory when I agreed to move into this hospital. It’s in room eight, I believe.”

“Eight?” the man said in surprise. “But I thought…I mean, that room was supposed to be receiving special guests, or at least that’s what I was told when we were going to be cleaning it. I don’t know if even that’s been done yet, and we took all the equipment and the beds out of there anyway.”

“Of course it’s been done.” Merrick said quietly. “My own people handled it, and placed everything we would need in there. And these are special guests, Nurse Andre, or did you think otherwise?”

He gulped at the sudden steely expression on the wizened face. “Not at all doctor!” he gasped out. “Not at all! I’ll just go and get some help then!”

And he backpedaled out of the room and hurried down the hall.

“How far is it to room eight?” Taryn asked grimly.

“Not far, it’s in the next hallway.” Dr. Merrick assured her. “I made sure to have a room on the ground floor for further examinations and tests.”

“Oh! Has Sylvie still been going to them?” Taryn asked in surprise.

“Very punctually, though her mother has been coming to the meetings as well” Dr. Merrick smiled at Sylvie’s mother. She smiled back, much to Taryn’s surprise, and she thought for a moment that they might actually have become friends.

“What do you think is wrong with her, doctor?” she asked worriedly.

“I’m not entirely certain.” He said gently, looking back down at the quiet centaur. “Certainly there is a lot here I don’t know. If I had to hazard a guess, however, I would say that the root of the trouble is probably the tranquilizer that was given her. She isn’t a normal horse, or a normal human, and so we have no idea what effect the kinds of drugs that normally work on either would have on her. We don’t even know, at this point, what they shot her with. She might be having a delayed reaction, or they might have gotten the dose wrong. If that’s the case, then it’s a miracle she woke up at all.”

“What do you mean?” Taryn asked fearfully.

“Well, tranquilizers are very tricky things, my dear. You have to know for certain what is going to happen before you do it, and there are lots of factors you have to consider as well. Take rhinos for example; if you dart a rhino, you have to be sure to have just enough to take them down quick, or they will get fighting mad and try to gore you! But they will also keel over in a very short amount of time and die without ever going to sleep. If you hit it with too large a dose, then the same thing happens again; it will simply fall over and go into shock. Whoever darted Sylvie got close to the right dosage for her size and body weight, or it wouldn’t have knocked her off her feet in the first place. Yet, when he darted her, she was under extreme stress, which caused her body to fight the drugs and why she got back up, highly emotional, and then was placed under further stress of an actual battle and running. No, I’m not surprised she’s collapsed when she had a moment to actually calm herself, but now we have to hope that she hasn’t killed herself either.”

As he’d been speaking, ten strong men came into the room and, under the doctor’s direction, gathered her limbs while Josh (stepping very carefully) went into the hall and grabbed Sylvie’s horse end and Taryn grabbed her front half. Together, they managed to get her off the floor, though Taryn felt as if she’d gotten the heavy end.

“All right, to room eight.” The doctor grunted.

“What…about…a…gurney?” one of the nurses puffed.

“Not possible.” The doctor said. “There isn’t a gurney in the world that would take her.”

“Right.” Came a new voice, very familiar to Taryn’s ear. She looked over everyone to see Dr. McMillian hurrying up. “They normally do procedures and things right there in the stall with the larger animals. Never thought I’d actually need something like that here. Come one!”

And with that the tiny woman grasped the nearest part of Sylvie she could reach, her hind legs, and tugged them along.

Together they managed to lift Sylvie down the hall into room eight where a large memory foam mattress sized for a centaur lay in the center of the floor and all kinds of medical machines stood along the walls ready to go. It actually reminded her a lot of the room that he’d had in that secret facility of his, and for a brief moment she wondered what happened to it.

They got Sylvie onto the bed, and then the two doctors quickly hooked her up to the machines, which began beeping and displaying the vital signs.

Taryn looked at them intently, but Dr. McMillian shooed her out.

“You’ll only get in the way here, Taryn.” She said kindly. “I know you have a lot of knowledge, but here you’ll have to leave it to us.”

Taryn didn’t argue, she wasn’t a doctor after all, she’d only just graduated high school.

Staring at the plain wooden door behind which her friend might be fighting for her life, Taryn felt completely helpless. She pranced a little, as a nervous horse would do, as she made her way back to the waiting room to see what would happen.

I’ve got to calm down, she thought to herself. I’m not helping anyone like this.

Taryn realized she’d started pacing the tiny waiting room in irritation. A small number of people were there, probably waiting on their own people, and they quickly lifted their feet warily whenever she came near. That only served to increase her irritation; Do they think I’ll be clumsy enough to step on their feet? She thought balefully.

She knew she needed to get out of there, before she snapped at them. She looked around, and noticed in one room of the hospital, set off to one side was a small chapel. Probably put there for the terminally ill patients to find peace and solace as they waited.

Taryn quietly went in, not really understanding what she was doing. As she passed the plain, office-like door she caught her breath.

The chapel looked as if it had come straight from a much larger church in the country, there were plain wooden pews, perhaps about two dozen of them, each carved with various religious symbols. The outer windows were stained glass with icons, the outside sun turning gold and red as the beams filtered through. In the back, at the top of a small raised platform there was a large wooden figure of Mother Mary holding an infant in her hands, a look of tender love and joy on her wooden face, while behind her a large glass window showed Christ standing with arms outstretched. Strangely, Taryn saw no cross anywhere in the church.

Taryn looked at the wooden statue with thoughtful eyes; she wasn’t particularly religious, but something inside her urged her on. Yet she hesitated, wracked with doubt.

Should I even be in here? She wondered. Her power came from ancient tribal magic of the Native Americans, far different then the Christian beliefs of her mother, though loosely held.

As if a decision had been made without her knowing about it, she stepped forward, quick and determined.

Coming to the dais she eased down off her feet and then bowed her head at the statue, feeling a flash of unease, though she couldn’t have answered why.

“Mother Mary, full of grace…” she began, but the prayer trailed off and died. She knew the words, of course, her mother had taken her to church plenty of times in her youth, before she’d fallen sick, so it wasn’t that. But the prayer felt…wrong to her in some way; she wasn’t praying for a blessing, or offering supplication, but asking for help.

She raised her eyes to the statue, and felt their keen gaze upon her. She trembled. She nearly bowed her head again, but some core kept her upright and looking right at her.

“Mother Mary,” she began in a weak voice, growing stronger as she went on. “I know you have no reason to help me, but I need it, more than ever now. My friend lies in this hospital, unconscious and fighting for her life, as does her father. My world is facing a storm of death and destruction, our enemies have power the likes I have never seen before, and I’m all alone to face it. What do I do? How can I go on like this?”

She cast her eyes to the ground in hooded thought.

Abruptly a voice cut through her thoughts and brought her head up, blushing deep as she caught sight of a young woman, kind featured, long brown hair done in a braid that hung down over her shoulder over a neat blue blouse and pleated skirt.

“What do you think you should do?” she asked, her voice nice and pleasant, not condemning her weapons or her native dress or the blood that had dried on one of the shafts.

Taryn stared at her, wondering how she’d made it in without her noticing, and how much she’d overheard.

“Not much.” The woman assured her, looking at her with a warm, gentle smile on her face. “I simply caught the tail end of your question and I couldn’t help but answer. I’m sorry if your question was supposed to be private; I can leave now if you’d like. I just came here for the peace and quiet.”

“No, stay.” Taryn hastened to say. “I hadn’t meant to take the whole room.”

“No, its fine.” The woman assured her gently, reaching out and patting her head. Rather than feel insulted, Taryn felt instant warmth and gratitude for the connection and understanding; for it wasn’t the pat of a master with its hound, but more of a mother seeking to comfort her frightened daughter.

“As I’ve said, I wasn’t here for anything but to take solace in the silence. But, if you’d like, perhaps you can share your troubles with me? Sometimes simply talking about them can bring enormous troubles down to size.”

Taryn frowned, not liking the thought of burdening this nice woman with her evil thoughts, but the woman gave her a look so reminiscent of her mother that she burst out laughing.

“I’m terribly sorry.” She gasped when the fit had passed, “but for a moment you looked like my mother.”

Her laughter sounded like mellow bells, gentle and sweet. “But why not?” she said with a smile. “For I’m a mom as well, and I’ve had many, many children. Trust me, dear, when I say that there is nothing new under this sun that you can tell me that I haven’t heard.”

For some reason this made her feel better, and she shared everything she could think of, from the isolation of being under, for all intents and purposes, house arrest during Tenebrae Cultor’s search for her, to dealing with Nightshade (she shuddered at the very mention of his name, feeling again the weight of his saddle on her back and his slithering voice in her ear. The woman took her hand, and the moment passed as if it had never been), his advice about Jacob Meyer and his terms of payment.

“Are you seeking to kill him?” she asked her quietly when Taryn had paused for breath.

Taryn shook her head and looked down at her hands on her lap.

“No.” She said. “I don’t like killing; even those that I’ve killed already, and there have been a few…” she shivered as a strange crawling sensation crept up and down her spine. “I’ve never wanted to kill, even when I had Nightshade in my grasp, I wanted to make him hurt so bad, but I didn’t want to kill him. I wanted him dead, but I didn’t want to be the one to do it. Does that make me weak?” she asked suddenly.

“No!” The woman said firmly. “It doesn’t make us weak to show mercy, or kindness, even to our worst enemies! We cannot see all ends to our actions, nor foretell the future of what we do. All we have to do is to decide on what path we choose to make. You are a caring person, I can see that, as do all who come into contact with you. Often it’s the harder road, choosing Mercy, but it can have surprising rewards in the end.”

For a moment they were both silent, staring into each other’s eyes. Taryn got the uncomfortable feeling that this stranger knew her thought and hidden fears better than she did herself.

The moment passed, and once more she spoke softly.

“Taryn, there are more powers in this world than just the ones for evil and mischief. I do believe in destiny, in Fate. She (she gestured up at the statue) was Fated to carry her Son, as all women are fated to bear their children, and you are Fated to bear this burden upon yourself. And that is an encouraging thought.” She smiled.

“It is?” Taryn asked in confusion.

“Yes, for rarely does Fate give us something that can’t be done, if we have the wit to see it.”

She took Taryn’s hands again, a warmth came from them that seemed to flow up Taryn’s arms and thaw the fear around her heart. Courage welled up inside her once more as she began to hope that, in someway, she might be able to survive the storm.

Taryn smiled in thanks, returning to her thoughts, dark as they were, but now a ray of light shone through. She did have her friends there, Josh and Sylvie, Cindy and Megan, and the help of Bengal and the Chief and everyone they could command. She didn’t stand alone in the fight, and yes, the darkness was great; perhaps too great to face, but she could still fight it. She had the abilities to fight them, perhaps the only ability to do so, and she had courage and strength in equal measure. Look at all the training they’d been doing! That they’d been training now rather than simply having fun seemed plain to her, they could have simply laid down their weapons when they came home and never gone back, never looked to try and further themselves, never used those skills for as long as they’d lived, but they did. They went and got better and better with them, challenging themselves more and more, until they were where they were now. Perhaps it would be enough.

Taryn slowly got back to her feet, bowing low before the statue and then went in search of the young woman who’d helped her so much. She couldn’t find any sign of her, and the receptionist told her no one had passed back out the door, but Taryn thought it likely the receptionist had been busy and simply hadn’t noticed.

I’ll thank her the next time I see her, Taryn decided.

She left the matter behind her and continued on with a lighter heart than she’d had since she didn’t know when.

Outside the hospital she found Bengal and Ben talking rapidly on their phones, a pair of police cars already outside the hospital, the officers nervously pacing on either side. They were dressed in full tactical gear and carried M-16 rifles with grenade launchers. Taryn wasn’t an expert on weapons—that job belonged to Sylvie—but she felt almost certain that the grenades weren’t tear gas but actual explosives. She wondered if it would be enough.

Bengal saw her and hurried up.

“Taryn! I’m on the phone with the Chief, trying to get further resources down here.”

“Yes, I’m sorry about your men, Agent Bengal.” Taryn said sympathetically. She looked out at the darkness in the direction of the warehouse.

“However, we need to focus more on the fact that we are in serious danger, the entire city and possibly the country I mean.”

“What can they do?” Bengal asked urgently, his eyes fixed on her. “After all, they’re leader is, literally, smoked and they have to be in disarray. I was trying to learn more about your phone call with Nightshade, were there any others in Jacob’s organization that might have had the same talents as his boss?”

Taryn shook her head. “Agent,” she said gently, but firmly. “You do not yet understand, but believe me when I say that Jacob is now the greatest threat that we as a nation are likely to face in our lifetimes, or at least I hope so.” She added softly.

At his disbelieving look she relented and continued; “What Jacob has done has been to summon a creature powerful in magic to him. His plan, as nearly as I can make it, would have been to have the creature possess Sylvie, and then control her on the battlefield himself, likely with something we hadn’t seen yet in the warehouse. There was that crate that Jacob had been sheltering behind when he dove behind the stage…anyway, the point is the creature grew powerful when we leapt in to rescue Sylvie and hadn’t taken a host, so it remained formless, that was that smoke you saw. When Jacob gave in to despair and ran, the creature picked up on it immediately and consumed him, so instead of assuming a flesh and blood body when it merged, it remained like smoke and Jacob became its guiding intelligence. How long it will take him to try and gain control of all its functions and abilities, I dare not think. If he does, he will likely transform his people into deadly monsters that we will have to face in battle, Sylvie’s vision seems to bear that out.”

“Vision?” Bengal asked, frowning at her.

“Yes, the Chief knows about it.” Taryn nodded to Ben. “After all, Sylvie told him about it, warning him to be careful. In fact, it was that dream that told us that Nightshade still had a spy in the area, the one who’d sold us out when we were transported to the Gardner Farm.”

“I see.” Bengal’s face took on a concerned cast.

“Yes sir.” He said, speaking back into the phone. “I do believe she’s serious, and likely right. Sir, I’ve seen her…I know sir, but I think we should listen to her on this…I’ve seen things, sir, things that I know shouldn’t be possible, things that I can only ascribe to magic…I know magic isn’t supposed to be real, but these girls are real centaurs, and they can control…I know, but if you’ve read the reports…then you will understand when…I can see your…please sir” Bengal’s voice began to take on a more desperate cast. “Believe me, I want to avenge our people as much as you, but I don’t think we’ll be able to, not on our own…they’ve managed to attack almost a hundred agents and wipe them out entirely, and some were our own most experienced agents. I’ve got more incoming and some heading for the warehouse to scout it out and see what’s going on…I’ve told them not to go in of course sir, but…they’ll use drones, of course…my orders were to provide them with all the amount of equipment possible sir, Tenebrae Cultor has proven itself too dangerous in the past to underestimate them again…I know but it’s the only thing I can think of…I’m waiting for a report now, sir. The agents have arrived and were setting up the OP when we lost contact…No sir, no communication to let me know they were in trouble, and they aren’t exactly overdue yet, they told me eight minutes to get everything ready, and then ten to get the drone over the building and inside and it’s only been about fifteen minutes so far…I understand sir, one moment.”

He put down the phone and picked up his radio.

“En-R-Eye Five, this is Command, report.”

There was a crackle of static, then silence.

“En-R-Eye Five, report!” Bengal said a little louder.

Nothing happened that time either.

“En-R-Eye Four, do you see Five, over?”

Silence answered that radio message as well. Bengal called other numbers, but got only the hiss of static.

His pale face turned forlorn as he picked up the phone again.

“Sir, none of the scouts are responding. I request a satellite flyby to determine what happened to those positions sir. Yes sir, thank you sir. ETA?”

He checked his watch.

“Very well, I’ll wait.”

He fell silent, clearly waiting for some news of his missing people. Taryn didn’t think it would be good, whatever it would be. In her mind, she felt that Jacob was probably trying to consolidate, reaffirm his position of leadership over his new body and his people.

She left Bengal standing there and went over to the chief.

“Chief,” she said quietly, pulling his attention from a large map of the county that he’d spread over the reception desk; “How many people did you see in that building there, at the end?”

“Ah, worried about Sylvie’s vision, eh?” Ben nodded. “Well, I can’t blame you, that’s been on my mind as well. To be honest with you, I just don’t know.” He sighed. “There were about thirty to start with, probably a few more in the shadows that we didn’t see, and how many others he had scattered around keeping an eye out for us I can’t say, so figure maybe fifty people?”

Taryn frowned, thinking hard. “If all of them have changed,” she said, “Then we could be facing that many wild and dangerous magical beasts.”

“Well, I’m pretty certain that lead can still kill them.” Ben said dryly. “And fire, of course. Don’t worry too much about it, with some good men we can handle it.”

“Don’t get cocky.” Taryn said sharply, focusing hard on him. “Tenebrae has proven time and again how dangerous they are. They wiped out an entire force surrounding us, how I don’t know yet…”

“Oh, I can answer some of that.” Ben interrupted. “It seems they managed to get a hold of some of the food bags that were stocked up. They slipped in some arsenic in the coffee and sandwiches and then came at the rest with silenced weapons and jammers, that’s how there wasn’t a single call outside to alert us that something had gone wrong.”

“Ah,” she nodded. “Well, that explains things a bit. But look, the point is that before they relied on technology and training to get them through, but now they have magic. How many of your people are going to have training to handle that? How many are going to be able to fight that?”

Ben sighed, looking around. “Look, I know you two want to help.” He said quietly, “You and all your friends, but this isn’t a job for you, not any more. We’ll have the trained personnel, the equipment and the element of surprise on our side. We’ll be able to take care of it. What we need you to do most now, is to take care of Sylvie and her friends. They need you, we don’t.”

“You forget one thing.” Taryn said urgently, seeing a looming disaster in the making, “They have magic, and all those advantages that you spoke of are going to go out the window with that one.”

Ben seemed troubled, but insisted that they would be able to handle it on their own.

They both looked up as Bengal approached. “The National Guard is on its way.” He said quietly. “And we’ve been tasked with preparing the city for evacuation.”

“Evacuation!” Ben said in surprise. Taryn felt her middle clench in fear at the look on Bengal’s face.

“We’ve gotten the satellite feed from the warehouse area.” Bengal said quietly. “And they’re very, very bad.”