Xerxes ran down the tower and through the corridors. He didn’t bother waiting for the soldiers, who still hadn’t recovered from the shock of seeing a massive burning rock descending toward them.

He raced toward the council chamber, leaving tapestries flapping in the long hallways as he accelerated past speeds that ordinary Unsighted were capable of.

When he burst into the room, the cacophony of numerous conversations made it clear the news had been reported already, at least to some degree. Mystic Aban Saddi, who Xerxes suspected slept in the council chamber, was there. So were Ninsunu, Satahsusar, Fale, and Nohem, along with other important figures in the city. Colonel Nur-Ayya was absent.

Everybody seemed to be talking at once, and about half of the people present were on the verge of yelling. Did they know about the huge meteor? Or just the first, smaller one?

Heart pounding, Xerxes rushed to the side of the room and pushed through the doors to the balcony. He looked up.

The massive meteor was still rolling through the air toward them, but it was closer. A lot closer.

“There’s no time!” Xerxes said. The mages in the chamber ignored him, so he yelled, “HEY!”

The urgency in his tone worked. Everyone in the room quieted and looked at him.

Gesturing toward the burning ball of fire that seemed cubits away, he said, “Look.”

He turned his attention back to the meteor, vaguely aware of others joining him on the balcony. His heart was in his throat. It wasn’t going to hit the keep. But it was going to come close. And it was going to hit the city.

“By the holy Pontifarch,” someone murmured.

“It’s going to crush Garden Terrace!” someone else said.

“No. Not even close. Garden Heights, probably. Maybe the Great Promenade.”

“Should we ready troops? There’ll be deaths. Fires.”

“Yes,” Aban Saddi said. “Have everyone gather in….”

Xerxes stopped paying attention to the chatter. The meteor roared past the keep, so close that he was sure he felt the heat from the flames. Then it crashed into a neighborhood to the north. Garden Heights.

Some buildings were outright flattened. Others shattered. Bricks flew like confetti, splinters of wood exploded into the air, and conflagrations broke out left and right. The blast from the initial impact was so intense that Xerxes quickly leaned his sword against the rail and clamped his hands over his ears, but it didn’t do much good.

Garden Heights wasn’t as rich of a neighborhood as Garden Terrace, but it was considered a nice location. And though Xerxes had no love of stuffy rich folks, even he had a few friends who lived there. How many innocent people were already dead, and how many were dying?

Clouds of dust and debris spread out, intermixed with distant wails and screams.

“GO NOW!” Aban Saddi shouted. “Ninsunu, take Xerxes and—”

Five white tendrils shot up from beneath the balcony and headed right toward the Head Mage.

Everything seemed to go in slow motion for Xerxes. He saw the tentacular things, then caught a whiff of the odor of the Abhorrent.

He jumped toward them. There was no time to cast a spell or even grab his sword. He couldn’t let the Head Mystic get cut down in the middle of the keep. Shouting, he flew through the air and wrapped his arms around the five Abhorrent fingers.

He succeeded, and they failed to reach the Head Mage. Gripping the writhing things as tightly as possible, he dropped into a side roll. With shouts of alarm rising up around him, he felt the fingers straining against him like immensely strong worms. He pulled them tightly against his torso. Then, righting himself, he tugged them across his shoulder and pulled forward with all his might.

The fingers tensed and struggled to rip free, but he dug his fingers in tightly and continued pulling. A mounting howl built behind him, and he felt like he was drowning in the disgusting odor. Bile gurgled in the depths of his throat, until he was sure he was going to vomit.

NO. Growling to resist the gag reflex, he kept pulling.

A finger slipped free.

Shit, he thought, knowing that it could circle around and stab him in a vital spot.

Then he saw a flash of light off to the side, and realized his father was there, and he’d cast Singular Lethality.

“Be careful, Dad!” he said. “They can stab you!”

The howl behind him built into a crescendo as he forced himself to take two steps forward. Then he lurched another two steps as the fingers went slack. For a brief moment he rejoiced, thinking the Abhorrent had been slain. Until he realized it hadn’t. Instead, it had let itself be dragged up the balcony.

He let go of the fingers, spun, and put his hand on his component pouch. Before he could cast his spell, Ninsunu barrelled past him, having transformed into another bestial form, this one with red, leathery skin and long black claws.

The Abhorrent didn’t stand a chance. Ninsunu grabbed the creature, lifted it over her shoulder, and threw it off the balcony.

A shriek trailed behind it for about four seconds, then abruptly stopped.

Ninsunu leaned over the balcony railing. “More are coming up,” she growled.

Aban Saddi walked past Xerxes to join Ninsunu. He had his spell component pouch loosened, and Xerxes could hear the clink of glass vials within.

The Head Mage didn’t need to cast any spell. Though a group of about seven or eight spider-like Abhorrent spawn were climbing up the side of the keep, they were no match for the transformed Ninsunu, Xerxes’ father, and the other mages.

However, even as the last of the bodies dropped, a roaring noise echoed out over the city that, at first, seemed impossible to identify. But as it stretched out, turning sharper and more high-pitched, Xerxes realized what it was. The cry of a living creature.

An Abhorrent.

Stepping to the very edge of the balcony, he craned his neck to look in the direction where it seemed the noise came from, but his line of sight was obscured by the edge of the keep.

“What is it?” Satahsusar asked. “That sound…?”

“It’s an Abhorrent,” Xerxes answered reflexively.