Trafalgar turned to her fully.
"Aubrelle," he said, his voice low but sharp. "What's wrong? Did you see something through Pipin?"
She didn't hesitate this time.
"Yes," she answered. "Something is coming."
Her grip tightened again on the reins, knuckles pale beneath the rain. She wasn't looking ahead with her covered eyes, not really. Her head was angled slightly upward, toward the sky where Pipin circled, seeing what she could not.
"It shouldn't be here," she continued. "And if we don't deal with it quickly…" She paused for a fraction of a second, just long enough for the weight of it to land. "…it will kill us."
The words cut cleanly through the noise of the battlefield.
