Ember threw herself at them. “Alistair!”
“Are you all right?” he asked, catching her in his arms.
“Yes, yes.” She embraced him tightly. “When you weren’t here, I feared the worst.”
She released him, stepping back. “Where were you?”
“When the downpour started, I took shelter in the woods,” he told her. “I met Eira on my way back to the village. She told me what happened.”
Though Alistair had stopped at Ember’s call, Eira had continued on to the Circle. She turned, raising her arms.
“Peace, friends! You mustn’t be afraid. We will soon be free of this menace!”
Shouts answered her:
“What are they?”
“Is it true they cannot be killed?”
“It’s said they are living shadow!”
“How many villagers are dead?”
Eira raised her voice again. “You will have answers, but now I must beg for your patience. The Circle must convene. Leave us to deal with this matter. Go about your business and keep the work of Conatus under way!”
The crowd stirred restlessly, unsatisfied with her words.
Another voice from the back of the hall called out, “Obey the words of your wise councillor.”
Ember rose on her tiptoes and saw Father Michael weaving through the crowd. Lukasz’s massive form loomed behind him, warning off any who might think this crisis somehow undermined the priest’s authority. “Return to your tasks or seek your bed. Pray for deliverance from this evil if you will, but do not remain here where you will only stir up fear—the tool of Satan. Have faith in your elders.”
Though the murmuring continued, the crowd began to disperse. Slowly the room cleared.
“I shouldn’t have gotten up.” Kael groaned. He turned to go.
“Hold, Kael.” Eira came toward them, lowering her voice. “There is news you must hear.”
The relief Ember had felt upon seeing Alistair began to drain away. Eira was here, but Sorcha was not.
When the great hall was empty save the Circle and the members of the Guard Ember had seen at the ceilidh, Eira nodded to Alistair. He left them to close the broad doors, sealing off the hall.
“Eira, what’s happened?” Cian asked her sister. “Are the rumors true?”
Eira nodded. “And there is more to tell that is much worse.”
“Where is Sorcha?” Lukasz frowned at Eira.
“Dead.” Eira turned her back to them, walking a few steps away.
“Dead?” Kael lurched on his feet. “How?”
When Eira faced them, her features were drawn. “After you left, the creatures vanished. I don’t know why or how, but they disappeared.”
“What does that have to do with Sorcha?” Lukasz stood rigidly, his eyes full of rage.
“When she tried to save that child, she threw herself in front of one of the shadow creatures,” Eira told him. “And when she did so, it disappeared. All of them did. Some of the villagers witnessed it . . . and took it to mean that they were under her sway.”
Cian drew a sharp breath. “Are you saying they thought she was a witch?”
“Without question,” Eira said. “They burned her.”
The group went quiet, all eyes fixed on Eira in disbelief.
Slowly Lukasz said, “Why didn’t you stop it?”
“I couldn’t,” she answered. “They overwhelmed her before I could intervene. They were mad for blood. It would have been suicide.”
“You should have tried,” Lukasz hissed.
She glared at him. “You don’t know what they were saying. They knew she was one of us. They burned her with cries of heresy. Our heresy.”
“May God have mercy on us.” Father Michael made the sign of the cross. “And protect us from this evil.”
Ember had begun to cry softly. Sorcha, burned? She felt sick with grief.
Beside her Alistair stood stiffly, his face betraying no emotion.
Lukasz kept an unrelenting gaze on Eira. Barrow and Kael’s faces mirrored their commander’s.
Claudio stepped between Eira and the knights. “This is a great tragedy, but we must look to the future. What can be done?”
“Her death must be avenged,” Kael said.
“Make war on the village?” Claudio’s eyes widened. “That would serve only to confirm their fears. We claim to be here by God’s will. We are supposedly their protectors.”
“The sword is not the answer,” Fionn added quickly.
“They burned her.” Lukasz turned his glare on Claudio and Fionn. “Will you do nothing?”
Father Michael sighed. “Sorcha’s death is a horrible blow, born of an unknown evil. But to seek vengeance begets only more wickedness. We must forgive.”
“There can be no forgiveness for this outrage.” Lukasz’s voice shook. “She was one of us.”
“If we attack the village, we bring about our own destruction,” Claudio said.
Cian nodded, though her eyes were bright with tears. “We cannot do anything for Sorcha now other than pray for her soul. The true cause of her death was the attack—the arrival of this new enemy.”
“Cian speaks true,” Eira said. “We must fight our true enemy.”
“An enemy that manifested from nothing and then vanished without warning?” Lukasz said through gritted teeth. “How are we to find, much less fight, such an enemy?”
“We have a way to seek them,” Eira told him. “We can find the source of this evil.”
Barrow frowned at her. “You mean the source the prisoner speaks of?”
She nodded.
Thomas rubbed his short white beard. “We’ve agreed that pursuing that route is futile.”
“Do you still believe that?” Eira asked. “Given what’s transpired this eve?”
Thomas’s brow furrowed, but he didn’t answer.
“We know nothing of this source if it even exists,” Barrow said. “That search could lead to nothing.”
“I agree with Barrow,” Lukasz said. “We must grieve our fallen companion, but the wisest course is to wait this out. The villagers have sated their bloodlust. We have the resources to pull behind our walls and defend against any assault. Their anger will abate with time.”