“No!”

Cries of fear and outrage met this revelation, but none seemed as disturbed by the news as Fionn was. The young mage collapsed back into his chair and buried his face in his hands.

The Academy of Dromán was his home….

“This news was not expected,” said the Silverback, showing no remorse as usual. “How could so many mages fail to fight the dead?”

“It is true,” said the Simian scout. “I saw the battle from afar with my own eyes. The horde poured through the woods, rolling towards the city gates like an unstoppable tide. The Pyromancers on the walls lit up the sky with their fire, and for a moment I believed this alone would be enough to throw the dead back into their graves, but it was not. As the flames fell, something else seemed to take hold of them. The next thing I knew, they were directed back at the city walls, and the Pyromancers burned to their own fire.”

“So, there were red mages amongst the horde?” asked Garth.

“No,” said the scout. “The flames of a hundred Pyromancers were being manipulated by one individual at the head of the horde. This girl. Morrígan.”

Gasps rippled through the room in response. Argyll turned towards Fionn. “One mage fighting back the flames against a hundred Pyromancers. Is this possible?”

Fionn nodded slowly. “If she wields the souls of each corpse in the horde as if they were her own, then yes.”

Silence fell on the hall.

“That is not all,” continued the scout. “The walls of Dromán were torn from their foundations before the horde arrived. I watched the Academy building itself crumble before a single invader was inside the city. It seems she has full command over more than one School of Magic.”

“And she’s even more powerful now,” muttered Fionn through his fingers. “If Dromán has truly fallen, then over a thousand mages have joined the horde too. Their souls have joined hers.”

Nicole sat with her hand over her mouth. She didn’t seem to have moved at all throughout the meeting. Ruairí’s head nodded left and right, as if he was trying to convince himself that this wasn’t happening. His lips were moving, too, perhaps in silent prayer.

Pray to your god. But I doubt it’ll help. How could a god compete with power like this?

“Have you any more news, scout?” asked the Silverback. “If there are more ill tidings, don’t leave us in the dark.”

“No more than this,” said the scout. “The horde is heading south towards the capital. It should have reached the king’s walls by now.”

“Well, let them be King Diarmuid’s problem then,” said Garth. “The further south they march, the safer we are up here.”

“Aye, aye,” called a few scattered voices.

“Wait,” said Fionn. “If she already commands the power of every mage in Dromán, what could she possibly hope to gain by laying siege to Cruachan?”

None answered straight away. Farris could have bet that it was because none there cared why. Still, it was a question worth considering.

What power lies in Cruachan that could not be found in Dromán….

“No!”

Everyone turned to face Farris for the first time during this meeting.

“Is something the matter?” asked the Silverback.

“I know what she wants in Cruachan,” said Farris. “The king’s soul. He’s one of the Trinity, after all. And that, along with Divine Penetrance means—”

“By Sin’s stones, Farris,” swore the Silverback. “Do you still wish to belabour this point, after all this time?”

“You don’t believe me?” asked Farris. He tried hard to keep his voice from raising. “Skies above, Argyll, I’ve spent three years living by King Diarmuid’s side. I’ve collected enough proof that Divine Penetrance exists to convince even the most hardened sceptics.”

“Divine Penetrance is a myth,” said Ruairí. “Even the Church says that the king does not possess immortality, and neither did those that came before him. Even the notion that the power of Seletoth can be passed on is—”

“Leave your faith out of this,” spat Farris, pointing a trembling finger toward the Human. “Of the nineteen kings that came before Diarmuid, none died before birthing a son. I never did believe in the gods, or Seletoth, or any of that shit, but there’s so much evidence! The capital’s archives are full of accounts of young princes being mortally injured, only to recover miraculously afterwards. If Divine Penetrance manifests in the soul of King Diarmuid, and Morrígan plans to take hold if it, then—”

“Then it will still not be our problem!” The Silverback stood now, trembling with rage. “If the capital falls, it falls. We will tend to our own needs as they arise. And that’s all that will be spoken on the matter. Now, if there is nothing more to be said about the horde itself, you may leave.”

Everyone tried to go at once, for it seemed that none wanted to be in the Silverback’s presence longer than needed. The scouts left first, in unison. Ruairí strolled out after them, followed by Garth and some other members of the Sons of Seletoth that Farris didn’t recognise. Then went Fionn, not acknowledging anyone else as he departed.

“Poor kid,” said Nicole’s voice behind Farris. “If he thought he was alone before, imagine how he feels now.”

“Sure,” said Farris. “But it won’t be long until our home here is destroyed, too.”

“Maybe. But as sure as Sin, we’ll still fight.”

Farris turned abruptly to face her. “You believe me. About Divine Penetrance and all that, right?”

She hesitated for a second, but that was enough.

“I know you wouldn’t lie to me,” he said. “If you didn’t believe me, you wouldn’t think twice about being blunt.”

“It doesn’t matter what I think. Even if you’re right about the king’s power, what difference would it make?”

“If I’m right, then we can’t let Morrígan take his soul and claim Divine Penetrance for herself. We need to travel south, and meet the horde head-on and—”

“Listen to yourself, Farris,” said Nicole. Although their last meeting had ended with heated words, her tone now was soothing, like a mother’s. “If I told you I believed you, it would mean nothing. The dead have already reached the capital. For all we know, King Diarmuid is already dead.”

“Just tell me that you believe me, then,” said Farris. “Everyone else in this city thinks that I softened up after working with the Crown. But there’s proof, Nicole. Tell me that you see that!”

Nicole raised a hand to touch his face. “Truth be told, as crazy as it sounds, I do believe you.”

“Then you agree that the king needs to be saved, if we’re ever to have a hope in this war?”

“Well, yes,” said Nicole, returning her hand to her side. “But like I said, it wouldn’t make a difference.”

Farris let his lips slide into a smile. “What if there was a way?” he said. “What if we could save him. Would you agree to help?”

“What? No. Farris, I’m not going to agree to something I know nothing about.”

“What about Skirmisher?” asked Farris, excitement rising in his voice. “You said that it can make the journey across Alabach in a day, and I know exactly where we could find the king.”

“Farris! Are you out of your mind? We can’t just swoop down into the horde and take the king to safety.”

“But you just admitted how important this is,” said Farris. “You said that if the king dies, then we’ll have no hope fighting back the dead.”

“Well, yes, but—”