Katrina had no idea what they were running after, but she’d reached a point of quiet acceptance: the past several hours had been nothing but the most bizarre in her life! From her initial arrest to Bishop Wotan’s questionable motives, to the arrival of the Patriarch and the near-execution of her friends, Katrina had suffered enough of an emotional roller-coaster to last her the rest of her teenage years.

Phantasia – a ‘faerie’ according to Wotan (something that would be sure to excite Phoenie, no doubt) – was following something she called a ‘totem’, apparently an invisible-to-human-senses projection of someone’s spirit. That this ‘totem’ had been sent by Nature Studies teacher Ms Chiltern to lead them to Dante would have raised questions on any other day, but Katrina just accepted it with a smile and followed the ‘faerie’. The strange girl in question skipped through the corridors in long, slow arcs and Katrina wondered if she was just trying to keep pace with her exhausted sprinting.

“There’s something up ahead,” said the white-haired girl, “I-I’m not sure if it’s Dante…” She went silent for a moment, as is listening to a voice in her head, “According to Ms Chiltern it is. I…don’t get it…”

When they arrived at the scene Katrina felt a familiar lump in her throat at the sight. Strewn across the corridor were the catatonic bodies of Inquisitors, their pale faces drenched in fear and their limbs limp by their sides. Some were curled up as if hiding from a terrifying, inescapable beast, while others looked like they’d tried to run away, only to have their bodies give out beneath them. Among the crimson robes, the gloss-black armour of a Crusader laid prone, his sword loose in his hand. At the middle of it all, hiding in a doorway with his knees drawn up to his face, was a shivering Dante. While Phantasia was still surveying the scene like a confused child, Katrina dashed forward to comfort her surrogate brother. She caught him whispering to himself, but he snapped him to attention when he saw her, like a dreamer waking from their deepest nightmare.

“Did it happen again?” she asked, brushing strands of hair out of his face. He nodded, his lip trembling, and she hugged him tight. “It doesn’t matter. We’re all safe now.”

“I wanted to save you,” said Dante, his voice a hoarse whisper.

“I know,” replied Katrina, holding him tight, “Thank you.”

“What happened here?” asked Phantasia, still hovering around investigating.

Katrina looked at Dante for permission and he nodded a silent confirmation. She stood and stepped over the bodies to where Phantasia was brushing her fingers around the knight, like she was feeling the invisible fields that auragraphs revealed.

“He’s alive,” she said, “They all are, but they were stunned by something spiritually. Like you would be if someone hit you over the head!”

That explained a lot. “Something like this as happened a couple of times before,” said Katrina, “When Dante gets stressed or overwhelmed he starts to lose his…” she tried to find the best way to put it that wouldn’t offend him.

“My grip on reality.” he said, peering over his knees at Phantasia.

“It’s hard to explain. I’ve only witnessed it once,” continued Katrina, “But people have said that he, well… That he loses his temper and people get scared and sometimes they faint,”

Phantasia wandered over to Dante, but he shied away when she tried to put her hand on his shoulder. She tried again and he scuttled backwards.

Chapter 22
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