“What’s going on?”

  “Hey, is that Ben?”

  “What’s on fire?”

  “Crazy bastard. He’s going to get himself killed.”

  It took Char a moment to separate the waking world from her fading dream, but once the meaning of what she was hearing penetrated her sleep-fuzzed mind, adrenaline chilled down her spine and she rolled to her feet. People were starting to cluster at the windows, necks craned to see outside.

  The flickering orange light made Char glance around for Lulu, but the firelight wasn’t coming from the hellhound. It was coming from outside. She pushed forward through the press of people to get a look.

  She’d been brought in unconscious and hadn’t seen the results of the storm she’d called down, and it was too dark now to see the full extent of it, but it must have brought down at least one of the trees. Three long segments of log had been leaned together like a teepee frame, then crammed full of branches and smashed-up picnic table planks. It was burning now; a blazing bonfire that sent sparks and billows of dark smoke dancing into the night.

  A single figure was silhouetted in its light. The rumpled business suit and balding pate let Char recognize him almost immediately as Ben. Confusion, disbelief, and finally sinking dread cycled through her as she tried to understand what was going on. When it clicked, she could only shake her head. The idiot was trying to signal for help. He couldn’t wrap his head around the idea that no one was coming.

  The crackle and pop of the bonfire got louder as someone opened the door. Annabel and Leonard rushed out, and Char shoved through the crowd to join them. In a voice too full of fear and concern to carry her normal commanding presence, Annabel called out, “Ben? What are you doing? You need to come inside.”

  Ben shook his head, the firelight reflecting from his glasses and making them flash orange. “No, I’m signaling for help. They just don’t know we’re here. Don’t you see? They’ll see the light and come rescue us. Then we’ll be safe again.”

  “Who, Ben? Who’s going to come rescue us? There’s no one out there. You’re just going to call more monsters down on us!” Annabel took several steps away from the door and the shelter of the overhang. She tried to make her voice kind, understanding, but she couldn’t hide the strident note of fear that undermined it.

  Char stepped out into the night, scanning the area for threats. Declan sidestepped out of thin air to stand beside her. “Won’t most animals stay away from fire?” he asked, but his eyes scanned the darkness just like hers, suggesting he already knew the answer.

  Char shrugged. “Normal animals, sure. But monsters? Who knows. I mean, what do fire elementals eat?”

  “Shit. Good point.” He looked back at the building, then added, “I’ll go grab the fire extinguishers, just in case.” Before Char could reply, he’d stepped sideways again and vanished from sight.

  Annabel took a few more steps toward the fire, her hand outstretched. “Okay, Ben. You’ve lit your signal. Now, why don’t you come inside while we wait.” She cupped her hand in a gentle beckoning gesture, as though Ben was a frightened child.

  “Don’t patronize me. I don’t need you mother-henning me. I’ve been listening to you and your over-cautious doom-mongering long enough.” Ben’s face turned red as he yelled, and he shook a fist at Annabel. “You go ahead and live in your sick end-of-the-world fantasy if you want to. I’m going to get help, and get back to the real world. I’ll have a hot shower and a real bed, and I’ll be eating steak while you’re all still in here, scared, rationing potato chips. You’ll see.”

  Annabel took a step back, surprised by his outburst. That step saved her life.

  Sudden movement from above swirled the smoke and sent sparks flying as a Deathbarb Vulture flared its wings, swooping out of a silent dive. Its tail stinger narrowly missed Annabel’s face as she fell backward with surprise. Her arms came up, protecting her face, and the bird’s talons laid open her forearm in three long gashes. She let out a cry of shock as she hit the ground.

  A second vulture stooped toward Ben, but Lulu was there, leaping from the darkness to snap at the bird, forcing it to abort its dive or meet her glowing teeth.

  Char sprinted for Annabel, the spell pattern for Arc leaping to her fingers by instinct. With the advance of her affinity rank, the lightning mana flowed easier, leaping to her fingers as if eager to obey.

  The first Deathbarb wheeled around for another attack on Annabel, but Char was faster. With a flash that burned blue-white afterimages into her vision, her Arc spell lashed out. She hit the bird and it lost control of its muscles, dropping from the air to lie smoking and twitching on the ground. Two more bounding strides, and Char was there, bringing her sword down to lop off the vulture’s head.

  She looked to the other fight to see that Declan was already there, chivying Ben toward the door and watching his back as Lulu breathed streams of fire at the darting bird. A glance upward showed more dark shapes circling above, revealed only as their shapes blotted out the stars, or were momentarily lit by the flaring light of the bonfire.

  “Get inside!” Char called out as she grabbed Annabel and pulled her to her feet. Blood ran down her arm and dripped from her fingers as she tried to cradle her injured arm with her good one. Char kept an arm around her for support and guided her back to the building. She focused on her Wyrdsight, watching for more diving attacks from above.

  The second bird died with a pained squawk as Declan’s sword and Lulu’s fire found it at almost the same moment. Ben stumbled past Char and Annabel, scurrying for the door. Leonard was there, a sword in his hand, and for a moment, Char thought he might use it on Ben, but he didn’t. He only glared at the man as he vanished through the door, and hurried over to Annabel’s other side.

  Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.

  He looked at Char over Annabel’s head and nodded to her. “Thank you. I wasn’t…” He shook his head, his features pained. “I need to get faster.”

  Char wanted to reassure him, but she couldn’t. He wasn’t wrong. They all needed to get better. She just nodded and said, “You will.”

  Together, they helped Annabel through the door, and Char let Leonard take Annabel’s weight as she held the door for Declan and Lulu. “I’m going to go help Annabel. You two watch the door. I doubt this glass will hold up if they decide they want in.”

  Declan nodded. “How bad is it?” he asked, bobbing his head in Annabel’s direction. Leonard was helping her to sit on a bench, and the woman looked pale and pained, but the fear in her eyes had been replaced by anger and determination.

  “Her arm got shredded, but I don’t think she got poisoned. You okay?”

  “Yeah, I’m good. You go ahead. We’ve got the door,” he replied, and Lulu chuffed in agreement. Char shot Declan a quick smile of thanks, and patted Lulu’s side before she moved away.

  Leonard was kneeling next to Annabel, using a pocket knife to cut away her sleeve. “This is pretty deep,” he was saying as he examined the wound, “It’s going to need stitches.”

  “Don’t break out the sewing kit just yet. Let’s rinse it out, and I can heal it up. I’ve got a spell for that,” Char said as she approached. “You didn’t get hit by that stinger, did you? Those things have some pretty nasty venom.”

  “No, thank the Good Lord. It was a close thing, though.” She winced and pulled in a pained breath as Leonard shifted her arm. “Those things were so fast.”

  Leonard pulled a bottle of water from his inventory and started pouring it over the wounds. He worked as gently as he could, but Annabel gasped with pain as he carefully irrigated and cleaned the gashes.

  Char pulled a thread of Flesh mana from her core and started shaping the spell pattern for Mend Other. As the Flesh mana flowed through her, she felt her own body far more clearly, and she realized that she’d forgotten one of her tools when she’d been searching for the Aetheris within herself earlier. She filed the idea away for later. As soon as Leonard finished, she completed the pattern and placed her gently glowing hands over Annabel’s arm.

  The flesh almost seemed to flow as it knit itself back together, weeks worth of healing happening in an instant. Color returned to Annabel’s skin, and her features softened with relief. Leonard watched with fascination.

  “I really need to learn how to do that,” came a voice from behind Char. She recognized it as Mira Patel, and when she glanced over, she saw that the former nurse was holding a first-aid kit and another bottle of water. “You’re making me redundant, Char.”

  “Nonsense. There can never be too many medical personnel. Char can’t be everywhere, after all.” Annabel poked at the freshly healed skin of her arm. “This is amazing, though. There are barely any scars. How did you learn this?”

  “You have to get to level 20. I’ll help everyone I can to get there and get some magic, but it takes an item called a Domain Affinity Core. Finding those isn’t easy. I plan to tell everyone about it when we get to the Sanctuary.” Char looked around at the milling people. Very few were still sleeping. Most of them were craning their necks and murmuring to one another.

  “What do we do about Ben? He nearly got you killed,” Leonard growled, his eyes searching the crowd for the cause of the night’s excitement.

  “And he nearly got himself killed, too. He’s scared, Leo. People are rarely rational where fear is involved.” Annabel put a hand on Leonard’s arm, and Char realized that Leonard’s infatuation might not be as one-sided as she’d first thought. “We’ll give him a chance to learn from tonight’s foolishness. To be honest, I don’t think he will learn, but if he choses to stay behind in the morning, that will be his choice to make.”

  “Speaking of, what time is it? I doubt people are going to get back to sleep tonight. How long till sunrise?” Char looked out the windows, but with the bonfire still roaring, it was impossible to judge weather the sky was showing any signs of lightening yet.

  Mira glanced at her watch. It was an old mechanical one, and it looked antique. “It’s around three in the morning.”

  “Hey, Dec? How’s it looking out there? Are those birds clearing out?” Char called.

  He shook his head. “They’re still there. They don’t seem to have any qualms about eating their own, either. I’d say were stuck for a while. At least until the free meat is gone and they give up on getting more.”

  “Well, we’ve got several hours before the sun comes up. Let’s hope they’re gone by then.” Char turned back to Annabel, “In the mean time, I think it might be a good idea of you let everyone see that you’re alright. They seem to be getting a little antsy.”

  Annabel leaned back for a better angle over Char’s shoulder and ran her gaze over the crowd. With a sigh, she nodded. “You’re right.” She flexed her arm one more time, still amazed by the disappearance of her wounds. “Thank you for this.” She squeezed Char’s shoulder, then used it to push herself to her feet. Leonard stood with her, ready to catch her if she wobbled. Once they were both sure she wasn’t going to fall over from blood loss, Char stood as well, but she hung back and let Annabel gather up everyone’s attention.

  “Alright, we’ve had some excitement, but everyone is fine.” She held out her arm. “This world may have taken a lot away from us, but it’s giving us new tools to grow with. Magical healing is one of them.” She looked around and found Ben at the back of the room. He was sitting against the wall, his arms wrapped around his head.

  “We’re all afraid. Not just of the monsters, but of these changes and what they mean. But we can’t let that fear drive us to make poor decisions, which is what happened tonight. In a few hours, when the sun comes up, and assuming the vultures have cleared out by then, we’ll be leaving. If you can sleep, sleep. If not, then help each other get things packed up and ready to go. If we stick together and help one another, we’ll be able to face whatever this new world throws at us, come what may.”

  It was a good speech, for something so off the cuff. Annabel had a knack for leadership, and Char was pretty sure she’d end up running things at the Sanctuary. She wasn’t so sure the power of teamwork was going to solve all of their problems, but the fifty or so people in this room needed that note of hope, so Char didn’t voice her misgivings.

  She helped Declan keep a watch on the activity outside as the bonfire burned down to embers and the vultures picked the last scraps of flesh from their dead brethren and returned to circling above. Now that the fury of the storm no longer drove them back, they were going to be an issue again.

  As the sky started to lighten to a pale orange and pink glow against the distant clouds, the small community finished up their breakfasts and packed away the last few items they would be bringing with them.

  Cory had dismantled the brochure racks, and had the thin press-board backers from each one stacked near the door. There were six five-by-eight sheets, thin artificial wood made even lighter by rows of peg-holes down the length where the shelves had been mounted. He’d rigged handles at each corner with electrical cord and tape.

  After seeing how handy the tarps had been against the rain, Char was impressed by the forethought. These would be annoying to carry, but they would provide some shade from the sun, and maybe even some shielding from attacks from above.

  Once the sun was high enough to see clearly, the refugees began filing out of the Welcome Center, Declan and Lulu in the lead. Char was the last of those who were leaving to go out the door, and she couldn’t stop herself from looking back at the half-dozen who’d chosen to stay. Ben was among them, as was the blonde woman and her teenage son, though the son had wanted to leave with the group, and the two had argued loudly about it. Four others stayed behind as well, whether out of fear of the trek or misplaced optimism about rescue, Char didn’t know. She’d done her best to try to convince them. This was their choice. All she could do was wish them luck, and try not to feel guilty about leaving them behind.