“What did you think of the talk?” Elite Bellus clasped his hands behind his back as he studied me.
“It was very interesting,” I said. “It’s wonderful to hear how communities have been able to successfully pull together.”
Elite Bellus nodded, and kept staring.
I shifted in my chair; my butt was starting to ache from all the sitting. “I don’t know that I picked up on anything you could immediately apply to Magiford,” I cautiously continued—I didn’t want to offend him, or the South Dakota crew. “But I did wonder if one or two of the smaller cities that are mostly occupied by those of us from the magical community could enact some of their practices—like a joint police force.”
Elite Bellus smoothed his goatee. “I wondered as well. You know…” he trailed off and frowned.
I tilted my head, wondering why he stopped, when I tasted the distinct, floral-bathwater taste that active fae magic always gave off, and a second, stronger flavor of magic that felt old and wild. “Do you feel—”
The Curia Cloisters shook as though an explosion had rocked them at their very core.
I leaped to my feet, throwing my magic-made shield up in record time so it blocked both myself and Elite Bellus. The air around me hummed as the six House Medeis wizards copied me, creating their own shields. They moved around so we stood in a circle, all sides guarded.
Elite Bellus blinked slowly. “…What?”
“Other side of the room,” Mr. Baree barked.
I swiveled my gaze just in time to watch Consort Ira of the Night Court raise a staff studded with a crystal and point it at Killian.
Purple magic swirled around the staff’s largest crystal, then shot across the room at Killian.
He ducked, avoiding the magical blast, which punched a hole through the drywall of the far wall.
“Really? They’re going to fight it out in the Curia Cloisters?” Felix snarled.
“Oh dear,” Elite Bellus said. He sounded only mildly concerned as he watched the fae with a cocked head.
The crowd seemed spooked, but only those closest to where the Drake Family was seated bothered to scurry away.
Until the consort tried it again, this time narrowly missing a vampire standing at the back of the room.
Everyone lost it.
(Well, everyone except Celestina. She unholstered her firearm and took a shot at the consort—although she missed.)
Someone screamed, and tables and chairs were overturned as everyone ran for the door. Up in the second floor the werewolves were more orderly about leaving. They clustered around the Pre-Dominant, and were slowly backing out, their teeth showing as a few of them transformed into their giant wolf forms for good measure.
I turned to my people, our shields glowing bright blue as everyone streamed past us. “We have to get the Elite out of here.”
Franco grimly set his shoulders. “Understood.”
Momoko squinted at the direction of the fighting night fae and Drake vampires, but it was too bright from the magic to see much. “It seems like they aren’t involving outsiders.”
“I don’t believe that,” Felix snarled. “Why else would the Night Court attack them in the middle of a public forum in a building that’s a neutral zone?”
“We should go out the side exit,” Mrs. Yamada tipped her head, pointing to an unassuming side door. “The main doors are swamped.”
“Right,” I agreed. “Let’s do it—moon formation, Leslie and Mr. Baree in escort mode.”
My family snapped into position, the weeks of drilling making our movements precise and clean.
Together we created a half circle, and Leslie and Mr. Baree moved to our unprotected side, ready to bodily push anything out of our way and open the doors.
“This way, please, Elite Bellus,” I said.
Mr. Baree set a hand on the Elite’s elbow and guided him away, making my request more of a command, but the Elite didn’t seem to mind.
“Very well!” Elite Bellus slid two fingers into his mouth, producing three shrill whistles that were almost eclipsed by the hungry roar of fae magic smashing through a solid oak table.
We made our way to the side door in an ungraceful shuffle. Even with Leslie and Mr. Baree moving things for us, we had to navigate the aisles, and once a terrified fae—Day Court, if her sunshine blond hair was anything to go by—in a hurry to escape smacked into my shield with such force she actually ricocheted off it and hit the ground.
“What kind of magic are you using?” Elite Bellus mildly asked when we hit one of the main aisles and were finally able to pick up our pace.
“This side of the room is clear,” Leslie shouted, ignoring the question. “Everyone’s run to the main doors.”
I glanced over my shoulder and grimaced.
Like terrified sheep, the crowd had flocked to the main double doors that had remained open, rather than using one of the four side doors, like we were.
We reached the door and Leslie opened it then stepped to the side as Mr. Baree thrust out his hand—encased with fire—and slid into the hall.
“Clear,” he shouted.
We started to slip through the door, Mrs. Yamada going first, shifting so she could keep her shield up. Leslie followed her, and I frowned at the stampede at the main doors.
“Momoko,” I called. “Can you open the two side doors over there?” I pointed to the plain wooden doors just a few feet away from the crowded entryway, where people were literally trampling one another to get out.
Momoko narrowed her eyes. Her wizard mark—a stark tattoo of spikes and bold lines—stuck out on her pale skin and eased up her forehead and down her cheek, stopping just at her jawline.
Momoko was one of my best precision wizards. She was great at using small amounts of magic for delicate tasks, and since she started practicing in the evenings with me, I’d had her target marks that were smaller and farther away.
Magic buzzed, and two gusts of wind popped the side doors open.
Momoko grinned. “Got it!”
I found I could breathe a bit easier as I saw some wizards peel off from the mob to run through the doors, a few fae scuttling behind them.
“Good. Let’s go!”
Franco, Felix, and I were the last out of the chamber, backing into the hall so we could keep our eyes on the battle.
That was how I caught sight of the magic circle swirling on the ground beneath Killian and the five vampires that accompanied him.
Given its scale, I had a hunch it was the first spell we felt go off.
I shifted my eyes to Celestina, who was crouched next to Killian and shouting to Rupert.
Rupert, a sour-faced, red-haired vampire I had a bit of a history with, tried to step past the boundaries of the magic circle, and failed.
They were trapped.
A bitter taste filled my mouth, but I forced myself to step into the hall, tearing my gaze away from the fight as two Night Court fae threw crystal vials that shattered on impact and released noxious orange fumes.
In the hallway, my family had reorganized themselves into our half-circle formation, curling protectively around Elite Bellus.
“We need to travel in the opposite direction to everyone else,” I said. “It’ll be the fastest route outside.”
“This’ll be the best way.” Mr. Baree pointed down the hallway—which was audibly quieter than the other direction, where everyone was shouting and screaming.