Chapter 58

After issuing the command to the other teachers to gather the children, Alastair rushed to the castle’s front door. The courtyard was peaceful, but the sounds of turmoil carried up the drawbridge from the distance. He rushed down the avenue, under the arching trees, and found that the townspeople once again faced off against malevolent undead. A crescendo of smashed windows and blazing fires roared. Thatched roofs went up in flames. Groups of dark-robed figures ran by, shrieking with glee followed by jaw-clacking skeletons.

“Now’s our chance!” Eloise said from behind him.

He turned to see her jaw set. “For what?”

“To go get Ozelius!” Sebastian said, appearing at his side, still wearing his Dueling League master’s uniform; the Rock twins were with them.

“Now?” Alastair said.

“Bloody right now,” Vin said.

“But the kids,” Alastair argued.

“Ms. Snapdragon and Mr. Banner have the kids,” Eloise said. “And the others are helping get them to their Houses.”

“The parents will be there as well,” Sebastian added. “The castle is in lockdown. No time like the present.”

“I’m coming, too.” Amaryllis rushed toward them from the Main Hall, wrapping her braid around her head and pinning it into place like she was going into battle mode. “I know where he is, and I think you need a Scryer.”

Alastair looked around at his friends—and the Rock brothers—and sighed. “You people are insane. You really want to risk your lives right now?”

“Ozelius would do it for us,” Dwayne Rock said.

While Alastair highly doubted that, he nodded.

“Ms. Snapdragon has the castle covered,” Eloise said. “You need support on this, Ally. There’s no way you can do it on your own.”

A rotting corpse ambled toward them and froze, stopped by the castle’s wards. They’d be leaving that protection when they got to the bridge.

“I’ll call Asmodeus now,” Eloise said, already pulling out her chalk. “If the rest of you get ready.”

Sebastian, patting a satchel hanging on his side, said, “Ready.”

“We’re coming out too. We’re leaving the wards.”

It was Onyx Priestly with a group of eighth-year students. Their faces were pale but determined.

“Absolutely not,” Alastair said. “I can’t allow it. You’re still in school.”

“We’re a month away from graduating. And if we can’t defend the school now, when can we?”

“After you’re out.”

“You’re going out to find Headmaster Ozelius.” A dark-skinned girl stepped out from behind Onyx. It was Yvonne, the talented choir leader. “We’re going to fight for Emberstone either way, no matter what you say. We’ll either do it now or after you leave—which means you’ll either know which of us are out fighting or you’ll have no idea.”

He rubbed his eyes, watching the bedlam on the street. “It’s going to be dangerous.”

“We know that,” Yvonne said.

“Very dangerous. You might die.”

“We know that too,” Onyx said, looking resolute. “We’re willing to take that risk. For Emberstone.”

“For Emberstone!” shouted the group of eighth-years. It was clear he wasn’t going to be able to stop them. They were ready and eager to fight, whatever the consequences might be.

“Alright,” Alastair said bleakly, all too aware he was intentionally putting students in harm’s way. “If that’s what you insist on doing. I won’t stand in your way. But you stay on school grounds.”

Onyx nodded. “We’ll make sure nothing gets in.”

“We want to help too.”

He already knew he’d see Caliban Elmwood and George Redding standing behind him in the doorway.

“I’m putting my foot down,” Alastair said. “You’re thirteen.”

“Fourteen,” George said, head held high. “And I’m the best Battle Mage in Primordium. You know it, sir. I’m better than some of the eighth-years—sorry, Onyx.”

“No offense taken. I’m a musician at heart, really.”

“Sir,” Caliban said, “he’s right. He’s the best Battle Mage in the school. And the two of us together—we’re unstoppable, aren’t we?”

“No,” Alastair said, feeling like he was losing his mind. The riot was getting worse in the city. There were skeletons dancing through the streets, and this group of children wanted to risk their lives to fight it. “We can’t take that chance, I’m sorry. Go back to Ms. Snapdragon. She’ll escort you to your Houses—”

“Remember when we told you that if you wanted to treat us like grown mages, you had to let us make our own decisions?”

“Alastair,” Amaryllis said, gesturing toward the street. “If we don’t go now, we might not be able to break through.”

And Eloise had just finished her Summoning spell. The ground cracked open just outside the castle gates, and Asmodeus dragged his way to the surface, licking his black lips.

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Alastair shuddered. He hated that thing.

“I have to go,” Alastair said helplessly, knowing George and Caliban would ignore him. “My answer is no. No. You need to stay inside.”

George started to argue, but was suddenly dumbstruck by the appearance of Eloise’s black and purple demon.

“Alright, buddy,” Eloise said to Asmodeus. “Clear a path for us, will you?”

“ME HAPPY TO.”

The demon moved with brutal efficiency, its massive claws raking through the undead, tearing flesh and splintering bone. Its hunger was insatiable, and it ripped through the ranks of corpses with a ferocity that left nothing but shredded remains in its wake—a smear of gruesome carnage.

The townspeople, already in a state of hysteria, were thrown into further disarray by Asmodeus’ presence. Their collective rage turned to terror as the creature’s destruction unfolded. In their panic, they tried to attack it, but their efforts were futile. The demon swept them aside with ease. Those who tried to resist were consumed or crushed.

“Eloise!” Alastair shouted.

“Asmodeus!” she shouted. “Knock it off! Undead only. Leave the people alone.”

It turned toward her, teeth bared. “NO. ME HUNGRY.”

And it turned back toward the crowd, shoving a walking skeleton into its mouth whole, followed by a shrieking man who tried to hack at its wispy arms with a pair of meat cleavers—to no avail. He vanished down the demon’s throat as Eloise watched in horror.

“Let’s go,” Sebastian hissed. “The way is clear.”