them to keep dancing long after the music had quieted.
“What does it mean,” Kallia began, smiling up at him sleepily, “when a magician who’s sworn off power to the world shows his magic to someone?”
His troubled gaze locked on their joined hands. “I don’t know,” he said, before finally turning to her. Everything in his face softened. “Guess it depends on who—”
The sudden ringing outside cut through the glass, distant but clear.
The light vanished from their palms. Warmth washed over by ice at the realization.
The Alastor bells, far away, ringing twice like a warning.
38
The bells’ echoes haunted the streets as they neared the center of Glorian.
“Everyone, stand back!”
Daron tried peering above the heads of the crowd, but he saw nothing. Could only taste the cold panic in the warm air, a razor blade cutting the night short.
Kallia squeezed through the cluster of people by sheer force of will. Her eyes straight ahead, hand in his. Finally, they caught sight of Mayor Eilin standing at the hub of it all on a street corner, flanked by a few people in uniform who gestured onlookers aside to clear the space. “Check the Alastor Place!” he snarled, even though the bells had fallen still. “And get these men out of here.”
He hailed over a pair of medics who stretched two gurneys out next to two sprawled-out figures, moaning in pain. Alive, Daron thought with relief. One was a judge, the other a magician. Judge Bouquet and Robere.
Daron gripped Kallia’s hand tight, but she just looked blankly at the scene, mesmerized by the horror. Lost in it.
“Their eyes,” she said, softly. “They’re…”
A shiver ran through him. He caught glimpses of the figures being transferred onto the gurneys. Bloody strips of cloth lay where both victims’ eyes should’ve been, and Daron’s insides wrenched.
A hand clapped over his shoulder. An imposing man in uniform looked over their heads to where the mayor stood surrounded by contestants and judges, sternly waving them over.
“Just follow and cooperate,” the man said gruffly. “And we won’t have to use force.”
Kallia and Daron shared a glance as their escort pushed them through the crowd. A few faces turned in their direction, and Daron’s whole body began to sweat.
“This has gone far enough,” Mayor Eilin whispered furiously once they reached him. He towered over Kallia so his citizens could not hear. “You’re going to put a stop to this whole sick charade.”
No one appeared more unamused than Kallia. “This wasn’t me. I don’t even know what’s happened.”
“Oh, how convenient. What a bloody coincidence that when two magicians are found with their eyes pulled straight from their sockets, you only now just waltz through in the aftermath.”
A stillness entered her, as if she were holding herself back. “We did because the bells started ringing.”
“And I wonder why that is,” he seethed, shifting to Daron. “I’m not letting this go any further. As a precaution, I’m afraid I have to make cuts to the show. I will not have any more accidents plaguing my town and my magicians.”
The ice surrounding Daron’s bones cracked. “You’re forgetting that she is one of your magicians, too.”
“She’s trouble, that’s what she is. I knew it as soon as I saw her.”
Before Daron had a chance to raise a fist, Kallia stepped forward. “I won’t play guilty for you just because you’re looking for someone to blame. You’re the mayor of this city. Take ownership of it, for once in your life.”
Angry, red splotches speared across the man’s cheeks, especially when he finally noticed the lingering group of stragglers watching on. Even the other contestants and judges remained, observing without sneers for once. Only fear. Fear for whatever was hunting, and if it would be coming for them next.
After a tightly drawn breath, the mayor said, “As the leader of this city, I aim to do best by my home. You’re out, Kallia.”
On the outside, she appeared every bit composed. But the small cracks of her armor veined the surface. The small twitch of her brow, a slight quiver of her lip. “Kicking me out won’t solve anything. Why not cancel the whole show altogether?”
“And risk being stuck here for the rest of your days?”
Lottie emerged as if out of nowhere, notepad in hand. Erasmus trailed behind her with an expression of fascinated concern, like how someone would look upon the carcass of an animal in the street. While he at least bared a morsel of regret, Lottie showed none. Only knowingness, edged with certainty.