Few days later
The call came in at two in the morning.
Alistair's voice over the intercom was clipped, the kind of clipped that meant no one was going back to sleep. "Ashen Dawn. Briefing room. Ten minutes."
Cora was first, because she never really slept anyway. She found Lucian already in the hallway, pulling on his jacket. Mason followed, his gauntlets already strapped on. Sera came last, her crossbow in one hand, a travel mug of coffee in the other. Derek stumbled out of his room with his staff dragging behind him, Dr. Blackwood's voice muttering something about the inconsiderate hours of the living.
The briefing room was cold. Alistair stood at the head of the table, a tablet in his hand. His face was grey with fatigue, but his eyes were sharp.
"Village called Harrowfield. Two hours east. A child—eight years old, boy—started speaking in voices three days ago. His parents thought it was illness. Yesterday, he threw a man across the room."
Mason frowned. "Threw a man?"
