Luke kept his posture relaxed—even as he pooled all his mana in the agimat in his right hand. “What do you see?”
“Look for yourself,” replied Severin, evenly. “They see us. No point pretending we don’t see them.”
Luke turned.
Aimed his phone light.
The scene it revealed made his stomach drop.
A crowd of people stood outside the cave, staring in through the entrance at Severin and himself. Not talking to each other. Not even, as far as Luke could tell, aware of each other. By their appearances, as a whole, they were a ragtag crew, not the kind of people you’d normally see together. Some were well-dressed and groomed. Others wore t-shirts, dirty coveralls, even pajamas. Their ages ranged from well past retirement age to as young as twelve.
“Are they mundanes?” Luke whispered.
“I thought they might be your ‘Broken.’ Don’t you recognize any of them?”
“No, I don’t fucking know them.”
As Luke and Severin watched, more people approached out of the woods from all directions, adding their numbers to the throng. None of them greeted or even looked at each other. The new arrivals simply, wordlessly moved to join the silent mass, their gazes converging with the others’ on the two mages inside the cave.
“Look at their eyes,” Severin whispered. “Empty. This is the work of a cogimancer.”
Luke shook his head. “Can’t be simple mind-control. They’re acting without supervision. They’re straight-up tranquilized. Like your fucking Arcanus Ostiaries. Who the hell could be powerful enough to do that to this many people?”
He jumped at a sudden sound like a gong knell, low and close. Beside him, Severin swore.
“What the fuck was that?” asked Luke.
“Another Martial Magus nearby, calling for backup.” Severin dipped into her coat, unrolled a small parchment—a map of the city. A glowing scarlet symbol marked what Luke assumed was the location of the mage calling for help—North Philly. “I don’t think I can aid you now, Vega,” Severin mumbled to the map. She shot a glance at the growing crowd. “Starting to think I should send out an SOS myself…”
Another low gong knell sheared the air.
“Same thing?” Luke asked, as a second symbol appeared over Chestnut Hill.
“Different Martial Magus.” Severin frowned. “…Completely different part of the city.”
“That’s fucking weird, right?”
“Very. We don’t even have jurisdiction in Philadelphia. I don’t know why two of my colleagues would be working in the city tonight, much less sending out distress calls at the same time.”
Another gong knell. And another.
“Something is very not right here,” murmured Severin.
“There’s a fucking pattern.” Luke pointed at the map. “These points are equidistant from each other. And if you follow the lines and angles…” As he watched, more symbols blossomed into view, accompanied by the same ominous sounds. “It’s forming…”
“A pentagram,” finished Severin, as the tenth and final symbol materialized.
“And this is us right here—right?” Luke pointed.
“Dead center.” Severin’s breathing was audible. Shallow. “I don’t suppose you know another way out of here.”
Luke looked up from the map.
The mob stood shoulder-to-shoulder, surrounding the doorway, blocking every avenue of escape.
“The nexus.” Luke heard himself give a dry laugh. His heart drummed a strange, slow pulse in his ears.
“You mean our only path of escape is the magically sealed portal you believe leads to a void in which nothing can exist?”
“That’d be the one.”
“Oh. Good.” Severin’s face was expressionless, her pale eyes ticking back and forth in thought. “Well, we can’t use magic to defend ourselves, not against mundanes. The A.M. shows zero tolerance for violations of the Occultation Protocols.”
“I don’t think we have a fucking choice. I don’t know about you, but I can’t jiu-jitsu my way through a crowd that size.”
There came a sound like a ragged exhalation, unnervingly close. Luke whipped his head this way and that, looking for the source of it.
“L,” said Severin, in a ghost of a voice.
He turned back to her. Saw her long forefinger touching the map.
One of the scarlet symbols had given way, to an amorphous black blot that was radiating rapidly over the parchment.
“What the hell is that?” asked Luke.
A second rattling sigh. A second symbol, swallowed by a dark shapeless stain.
Severin stared down at it, blank-faced.
Another. And another.
“Severin. Polyxena,” hissed Luke. “Wake up! Tell me what the fuck this means.”
One by one, all of the symbols went black.
Severin looked up at Luke, her eyes bright.
“Dead,” she pronounced. “All of them.”
Together, the pair of them turned to face the crowd.
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