Then… The room exploded.
Not metaphorically. Not dramatically. Actually, genuinely exploded, stone and dust and splintered wood flying in every direction as something slammed into the eastern wall and kept going.
I hit the floor hard, my father's name on my lips, my hands already reaching for the vials in my bandolier. The smoke was thick, choking, filled with the acrid smell of ozone and blood and something else, something that tasted like lightning and old magic and the kind of power that didn't belong in the hands of mortals.
"Lady Seraphine!" Sir Alex's voice, sharp with fear, cutting through the chaos.
"I'm fine!" I coughed, waving dust out of my face. "Dad! Where's my father?"
Evelyn Marta''s laughter echoed through the rubble. High and sweet and utterly, horrifyingly wrong.
"Oh, Seraphine. Did you think it would be that easy?"
