Patrixbourne was abuzz when Kommora and Southwark stepped off the train. People rushed to and fro. Military personnel attempted to cordon off the roads leading to the school, but a few spectators still managed to squeeze through, leading to swearwords and running aides.
"What's the situation?" said Kommora, striding up the cobbled path. One of the guards hurried up to meet her and Southwark.
"We're still gauging the scene, Mage Haigh, but it's confirmed a group of non-magical persons stormed the walls of King's Academy and attempted to take students hostage."
Kommora swore under her breath, quickening her pace. "And?"
"The tutors responded promptly and most of the students are safe and have been evacuated. There are a reported five second years who have been taken hostage by the trespassing groupâ"
"Their demands?"
"Shutdown of the academy."
Kommora laughed with scorn.
"We do not bend to extremist demands," Southwark said, the expression on his face darkening.
"No, that was what our negotiator told them, too, per protocol."
"Are they armed? Guns?"
"Yes."
"Then where are the nullifiers? Get rid of those runes already!"
"We have the culprits visualised from the towers and dispatched a team to await at escape routes in case any of them try to escape. The three students are safe, but they're still with the group in the graduation hall. The doors have been barricaded. The men are awaiting further orders."
"Down with magic!" someone hollered in the background. "Magic is murder! Magic is murder!"
A few other spectators took on the chant. The words ground against Kommora's brain. Fighting not to roll her eyes and slam a chair over the dumbasses' heads, she let out a sigh and placed her hands on her hips, feet planted on the stone bridge and eyes staring up at the archway opening into King's.
"Not shutting down King's. What else can we negotiate?"
"They said shut it down or they'll kill all three students."
"Like hell they'll go through with it."
"We can't risk even a possibility of that," said Southwark in a low voice. "The parents, the sponsors, the school board â we have an obligation to them to keep the students safe from people like these. If they hear the king's mages called their bluff and any one of those kids get harmedâ"
"Let's call them for what they are, Southwark. They're using violence with a political agenda. These are terrorists."
"We can't be seen giving in to... terrorists, you're right, but we also can't risk these kids being harmed."
"Who's negotiating?" Kommora fired at the guard.
"Brigadier General Artur Villin."
"That asswipe?" Kommora's nose wrinkled. "No, he has as much negotiating charm as curdled milk. Bring him out. I'll negotiate, myself."
"With all due respect, Mage, Brigadier General Villin was first to respond to the summonsâ"
"Yes, and we king's mages are now taking over." Kommora couldn't help but feel an air of smugness being on the other side of the pecking order. "We shall assume responsibility. Recall Villin. Ash will be the primary contact for the team that have infiltrated the wallsâ"
An earthshaking boom rumbled within the stone castle. Kommora's arms flew out to steady herself. She straightened up, disbelief etched on her face. Smoke wafted out of one of the windows higher up.
"What was that?" said the guard in horror.
"Flash magic." Southwark whirled around. "Who are the mages inside?"
"Mage Portendorfer was the first to arrive to provide magical supportâ"
"Tahir Portendorfer?!" Kommora grabbed the front of the soldier's green uniform, fingers digging into the collar and buttons, and yanked him towards her. Spit flew in his face. "Are you shitting me right now, soldier? On what drug-addled planet is it even feasible that Tahir bloody Portendorfer is first to respondâ"
"Since Benover, we've been short on both soldiers and mages, Kommora," Southwark said, putting a placating hand on her shoulder, which she promptly shook off. "That city-wide nullifier is making the recovery of some of our less-accomplished mages challenging. Portendorfer has still remained one of our most consistent mages, despite his... questionable techniques."
"Despite the casualty toll, you mean." Kommora stared up at the walls. "We need to get in."
"Any idea on what these terrorists look like?" said Southwark.
"Young people. Three males in their twenties, one female in her thirties, and one man in his late teensâ"
"Great. Kids. Kids holding kids hostage," Kommora said scathingly.
"All five are Karman. We're running background checks, but definitely no foreign affiliations."
"How long ago did Portendorfer go in?"
"About fifteen minutes agoâ"
Another explosion shattered one of the sky windows. Glass fragments flew through the air. The three of them shielded their faces against the shards.
"Cordon off the entire area. Nobody goes in; nobody goes out. Definitely nobody non-magical and non-military. I don't care if you need to smash their asses into submission. Nobody goes in. We don't need more meddling asswipes screwing this over."
With that, Kommora stormed in. Southwark passed more instructions before following her.
"Tahir bloody Portendorfer," Kommora muttered under her breath. "Rune my ass and set me alight, this cannot possibly get worse."
"We run the risk of extremist groups like this every time we ignore their demands," said Southwark softly. "That's why there needs to be negotiations and communications between the magical and non-magical councils."
"They can negotiate with a red rune in the face." Kommora's heart palpitated, waiting for a third explosion before they could reach the hall.
"They want King's shut down. We can invite their spokesperson to sit in on a meeting at the school council to speak on the group's behalf. They can express their concerns. One of us will be present to speak from the magical council point of view and we'll ensure the Civilian Council has a representative there, tooâ"
"You're too good at playing this peacekeeping game." Kommora rolled her eyes. "I don't play games with idiots."
"If you disregard idiots with power, you'll end up shooting yourself in the leg, even if you could nullify the gun."
They stopped outside one of the doors at the back of the auditorium. The guard had said the doors were barricaded from the inside. Kommora couldn't see the snipers, but she knew the they would be keeping an eye on the two of them right then. She applied an eavesdropping rune on the door and she and Southwark listened in.
"What the hell?! Aren't people like you sworn to like honour and protection and all that shit?!" came a panicked yell. "What are you doing? I'll kill her â you come any closer and I'll cut her head right off!"
"You do that," came a mild voice. Kommora could imagine Portendorfer smiling without a care in the world. "I don't care about these kids. You do what you want. Then I'll get to do what I want."
The panicked voice swore. There was a clatter as what sounded like a metal weapon struck the floor.
"You dropped your knife," Portendorfer said helpfully. "Go on. I'll let you kill this one. That way, you get to brag to your little groupie how five adults killed three thirteen-year-olds and bullied big scary mages into not doing magic any more."
"You think we won'tâ"
"The only issue I take with that is you thinking you can force me not to do magic. Because, you see..." Portendorfer paused thoughtfully. "I rather like magic. It's quite magical, for want of a better word. The sheer beauty, the colours, the energy, the life blossoming within it â it's as if all the perfection in the world awaits at your fingertips, just itching to burst forth."
"You're crazy."
"Of course, a commoner like you won't understand. You just want to reap the benefits of it. The lights in your house? The heat during winter? The train you took to get here from whatever destitute hole you dug yourself out of? The broken leg your friend has over there that needs fixing? Without magic, what will you do?"
"IâIâ"
The ragged breathing of the terrorist slowed. Kommora exchanged a look with Southwark. A tiny inkling of hope dared to rear its head: what if Portendorfer somehow managed to talk the terrorists into releasing their hostages?
There was a crackle, followed by another earth-shattering boom.
Perhaps Kommora's head still needed time to recover after Harred's escape.
Southwark snapped his fingers. White-hot flames exploded from his hands and devoured the double doors. The wood blackened. With one kick, Southwark splintered the doors, sending flaming shards flying. He shot in, Kommora close behind him. Chairs lay ripped from their foundations. A student, drenched in blood, scrambled backwards from Portendorfer on all fours. The other two students pressed against the opposite wall in terror. Portendorfer, wearing his usual wide-brimmed hat and gloves combination, swung around at the sound of footsteps, grinning from ear to ear.
"Joining the party, Haigh?" he called, adjusting one glove.
"Portendorfer, do not moâ" Southwark's words were drowned out by another crackle and explosion. A scream came from nearby. One of the terrorists had snuck up. He clutched the stump of his arm and toppled backwards in terror.
"Saved you there!" Portendorfer said gleefully. Beside him were the remains of some of the terrorists; Kommora could only count two based on the number of legs that remained. A whimpering caught her attention from the far side. About ten metres away from the students, the last surviving terrorist tried to hide behind the curtains to no avail; his quaking and whining gave away his position immediately. Eyes bright, Portendorfer raised both hands to tidy up.
"Portendorfer, waiâ" Southwark began.
"Tahir Portendorfer, you stop your ass there right now!"
Kommora's voice snapped across the air like a whip. Portendorfer paused, uncertain. Kommora stormed the remaining few steps down. Southwark made for the bloodied student on the left at once.
"You move a single muscle and I'll eviscerate you!" The heat throbbed from her every syllable. Portendorfer lowered his hands, not taking his eyes off the quaking crimson curtains at the far end of the stage. Kommora eased out a trembling breath and steeled her spine. Her eyes darted to the quivering pair at the far side. "Are you two all right?"
Two white faces nodded tentatively.
"Good. Get out of here. Go." Kommora pointed behind her. "The soldiers will pick you up. Southwark?"
"This one's fine, too." Southwark grunted, picking up the small body. "The blood isn't hers, but she'll need a hand to get out of here."
"You sort her out." Kommora turned back to Portendorfer, who surveyed the scene with open disappointment. "What the hell are you looking at, Portendorfer?"
"You ruin the fun, Kommora Haigh."
"As if I give a shit. I'll have to clean up after this steaming pile now, thanks to you."
"I saved those kids." His eyebrows rose.
"Yeah, as if you did that out of the goodness of your heart. I have to count my blessed runes none of the students got harmed thanks to your damn flash." She caught his lingering look over the handless terrorist. "No. Now get the hell out of here before I ram a chair down your throat, make you shit it out, and ram it down a second time."
Shrugging his shoulders, Portendorfer traipsed up the steps after Southwark and the students. Kommora waited until his broad figure disappeared through the smoking doors before turning her attention back to the situation at hand. She marched to the fallen terrorist, whose hand pulsed steadily with crimson. A green rune stemmed the bleeding and the beginning of scar tissue knitted across the stump. She frisked him and removed the knife at his belt before pushing him up the steps.
"You try anything funny, boy, and I'll let Portendorfer finish you off. Now go surrender yourself," Kommora said icily. Ashen, the young man nodded and stumbled towards the doorway at the top.
The remains of one attacker was on the left, where the blasted-apart remains had soaked one of the students. Where Portendorfer stood moments earlier were two more bodies. To the right, still alive and quaking, was the last one.
"Come out," Kommora called. "You won't come to harm if you do as I say. You have my word."
There was a moment of silence. Finally, he trudged out. A young man, in his mid-twenties with tanned skin and tight black curls atop his head, snivelled, blood spattered across the front of his long shirt. He held both hands in the air, one still gripping a runed gun.
"Drop the gun and kick it over here."
He did as he was told.
"What's your name?"
"Tala." His voice trembled and he cleared his throat. "Tala Febland."
"Tala Febland. For your action in this terrorist attack, for kidnapping and attempted harm on the students at King's Academy of Magic, I hereby place you under arrest. I will refer you to the Civilian Council. Do not struggle. Do not attempt to escape. Otherwise, we will kill you on the spot. Do I have your cooperation?"
Febland nodded silently. Two soldier marched up behind Kommora and cuffed the young man. The remaining ones split off, hissing with shock at the mangled sight of Portendorfer's handiwork.
"Mage Haigh," Liore said, meeting her at the top of the steps just outside of the charred doors of the auditorium. "Mage Southwark is calling an emergency meeting of the king's mages. I'll come with you back to Benover. Ash will stay behind to gather more information and meet you when the joint council is called."
Kommora nodded. The shit pile was getting bigger.
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