Seul flew low over the rooftops toward the singing.
The smoke was thinner here, away from the fires. She could see the streets below her now, and what she saw made her stomach turn. People in pale robes were moving through them. Not running. Walking. Hundreds of them, coming out of every lane and doorway, all heading the same way. Toward the center of the city, toward the voice.
They walked in step. They sang as they walked. None of them looked up.
Seul pushed herself faster. The song was getting louder. It was coming from a wide plaza just below the hill where the great church stood, a place she remembered from the tour, with a long reflecting pool and old stone benches and a market that had been full of fruit stalls the day before.
She was three streets away when something hit her from above.
