Page 321 of Scarlet Wars
Still cloaked in the face I’d built myself, I could feel my heartbeat in my throat. In my teeth. In the soles of my fucking feet.
Then I let go. The illusion melted off me like smoke caught in wind, and in its place: me.
The girl who broke the bubble.
Recognition moved through the crowd like a current, my name passing from mouth to mouth—until the High Chief finally looked at me.
His face barely moved, but the tension in his jaw gave him away.
A subtle twitch. The faintest widening of his eyes. Enough to register annoyance, followed by a flicker of something colder.
Scorn.
“Miss Thompson,” he called out as smooth as polished stone. “Didyourdeviant translationbreaka fellow magus’s bubble?”
A ripple of confusion swept through the square, magi shifting their weight, voices dipping into uncertain murmurs behind my back.
Shit.
“I did breakyourbubble,” I replied calmly. Then I let a slow grin spread across my face, opening my hands to him like I was offering a gift. “Ta-daa.”
He stared at me, expression unreadable.
“How?” he asked, softly.
But it wasn’t softness, it was precision. A dagger slowly slipped between ribs.
I simply gave a lazy shrug. “None of your business,” I drawled, the boredom in my tone deliberate.
Bonus points for nailing my inner Caden.
James moved in behind Rachel, his back pressing to hers as he turned to face his people instead. His presence was all steel and flame, his words threaded through with command.
“Civilians of Cyclos,” he shouted, “get out of here. Now.”
His people didn’t question, didn’t second-guess their Leader.
Green portals split open in rapid succession, their sound cracking through the air. Elders and children disappeared. Families clutched each other as they vanished. In seconds, the square emptied of everyone who wasn’t ready to fight.
Only the battle-willing remained.
The High Chief tilted his head slightly. And then, he laughed.
It was quiet. And somehow more terrifying than a scream.
“So dramatic,” he said. “You think removing the sheep changes the outcome?”
He raised one hand, palm glowing with a pulsing sphere of dark magic. The air around it twisted, warped, as if the magic itself wanted out of him.
“To the Offensives of Coastal, Alliance, and Sisu: answer your Chiefs.”
Then the skysplit.
Thousandsof portals ignited at once, forming a tight perimeter around the square like a noose. Offensives surged through in wave after wave, uniforms sharp, formation flawless, their translation already charging.
They came with order.
With power.
