He whirled. People were screaming and slashing at each other.
His people.
He waded back into the mêlée. He could see his people’s eyes were flooded with black, and they looked crazed, out of their minds. He pulled one of his off-duty cleavers off another man.
“Rasso!” Brodin roared.
The man’s eyes were glazed. He snarled, twisting and jerking. Brodin punched him and knocked him out. There was something very wrong with them.
He saw Annora fighting two out-of-control storeowners. She kicked one, then slammed the other one to the ground.
Luka was trying to subdue another man. The rest of the cleavers arrived, wading into the fight.
Movement above caught Brodin’s gaze, and he looked up.
Poppy was on top of one of the stalls. She leaped from one to the other, graceful.
What in the gorr was she doing?
A woman rushed at him, her hair wild and loose, fangs bared.
He grabbed her and spun her, wrapped his arms around her. She twisted and snapped. Her claws bit into his forearms.
Brodin grasped the side of her neck and found a pressure point. She collapsed, and he gently set her down.
Even with all his cleavers, they were heavily outnumbered. More wild, rampaging people stormed out of the heart of the market.
Gorr. They couldn’t safely take them all down.
But they had to try.
He charged into the center of the mob. Brodin whirled and ducked. When he could, he knocked several people out.
A large, brown wolf leaped over the downed people, aiming for Brodin’s throat.
He grabbed the beast. He recognized the markings—the white patch of fur on the tail, the golden glow of light in the fur.
Senya was a weaponsmith in the market. Friendly, bubbly.
She snarled, and tried for Brodin’s throat again. He gripped her and spotted a chain nearby. He snatched it and wrapped it around the wolf’s neck.
Senya snarled and yanked futilely.
Brodin felt the slash of claws on his back. He blocked the pain and turned. In seconds, he’d knocked out the attacking Damari. Brodin rushed back into the chaos.
He spotted Annora, her face bleeding. She tossed a man into a wall.
“We can’t keep this up,” she yelled.
“If they get loose, they’ll tear through the city.” Brodin punched a man in the gut, then planted a chop to his back.
He took more hits, but he got two more of them down.
He looked up and spotted Poppy. She was up on a ledge, but focused on the heart of the fighting crowd.
What was she doing?
Brodin saw a man closest to her spot her. The man slowed to a stop and stared at her.
She was using her runa ability.
Brodin’s chest hitched. There were too many. She’d burn herself out.
Another three people ran at him, their faces twisted and screaming.
Suddenly, Poppy leaped off the ledge...right into the center of the wild crowd.
No. “Poppy!”
Brodin charged forward, shouldering people out of his way. His pulse raced wildly.
She’d be trampled, or torn to shreds. He had to get to her.
He heard Annora curse, fighting her way toward him.
He couldn’t lose Poppy. Not now.
Then he saw several raging people just…sit down.
They looked dazed, blinking, confused. Some started to cry. All around, the fighting Damari stopped. Most were pale, and looked as though they were shaking off a bad dream.
“Emperor?” A man looked at him blankly. “What happened?”
“I remember,” a woman sobbed. “Rage. Terrible rage. I couldn’t think. All I wanted to do was slash and destroy.” Tears rolled down her face.
“Sit down and take a breath.” He scanned for Poppy.
More people dropped to the ground, shell-shocked. A few were rocking, and a few others hugged each other.
Then he saw Poppy rise. Her clothes were torn, and she had a smear of blood on her cheek.
“Poppy!” He pushed toward her.
She was impossibly pale, her face drained.
“I’m…trying to help them.” Her voice wavered.
As he got closer, he felt a rush of calm. “Everyone’s stopped fighting, you can let go now.”
She bit her lip, nodded. The sensation of calm slowly started to dissipate.
The Damari seemed okay, but many were slumped on the ground.
Brodin met her gaze.
She’d done it. She’d stopped a massacre.
She gave him a wobbly smile.
Then what little color was in her face drained away and she started to collapse.
No. He charged across the last of the distance to her and pulled her into his arms.
Frantically, he felt for a pulse. He found it strong and steady.
“Annora?” he roared.
“Yes.” She appeared at his side.
“Get Cassanra and the healers. Now.”
Poppy fought through the fog in her head. She felt someone holding her and she felt so tired, drained. Like she’d been out running on a hot, summer day. Her throat was parched.
She opened her eyes.
Brodin’s stony face came into view.
“Hey.” She cupped his cheek.
His gaze locked on her, and his scowl deepened. “Next time you jump into a wild, rampaging crowd, I’ll spank you.”
Her mouth dropped open. Mainly because the idea frankly didn’t bother her very much. She cleared her throat. “Is everyone okay?”
“Three people are dead. More are injured, but the healers are helping them.”
She turned her head. She was snuggled in Brodin’s lap. He was sitting on a table located on the edge of the marketplace. Cleavers were patrolling the edges, and healers were moving between the victims.
God.
It had been so horrible, seeing the citizens of Accalia tearing each other apart.
She felt rage throbbing off Brodin, but she didn’t do anything to try and calm him.
He’d apologized about his outburst the last time, but the hurt was still sharp in her mind. Poppy knew that sometimes you had to feel the bad emotions to appreciate the good ones, to live life to the fullest.
His hands tightened on her. She turned her head into his neck. She saw the small mark she’d left when she’d bitten him and her belly heated. She pressed her face to his skin.
Brodin blew out a breath and rested his face on her hair.
She stayed like that, and she thought it helped him, but she still felt his anger and sorrow like a growing storm.
Cassanra headed their way. There were lines on the healer’s face, and she looked exhausted.
“Emperor.”
“Cassanra.”
The healer sighed, her hands clenched in her skirt. “Another died. Marth. He ran a leather goods store. Two more are gravely injured, and I am not sure they’ll survive the night. We’ll do our best.”
“Candela did this,” he growled.
“Yes. I did preliminary scans. They’re all carrying the toxin in their blood. I need to do more detailed tests, but I suspect it is a version of what Poppy and I isolated from Fillian.”
“How? How did she infect so many?”
Cassanra spread her hands. “I don’t know.”
“It’s not airborne,” Poppy said. “Brodin, Annora, and I were not affected when we arrived.”
Cassanra frowned. “I don’t know for certain. Yet.”