“Father!”

Astrid struggled against her friends’ grip as the heat from the explosion swept over them. It was followed by a deep rumble and then the front of the church came crashing down in an avalanche of rubble. Astrid pulled herself free from Elizabeth, who was too busy gawping at the destruction, but Vespa’s grip was as tight as ever.

“We’ve got to get out of here!” she said, tugging at Astrid’s arm. Astrid ignored her and continued to stare at the flames eating away at the masonry as if it were paper. Inquisitors, priests and initiates alike fled from the doors and windows of the attached manor, some crying in fear and others falling to their knees to pray for divine intervention. Even some of the mighty Crusaders were retreating. No one cared for their Bishop, trapped in his chambers as the church collapsed around him.

“But, Father…”

Vespa tugged again, harder this time. “Bishop Wotan ain’t no pushover. There’s no way a bunch of heretic scum is gonna take him or the Patriarch out. We gotta leave before they turn their attention on us instead!”

Elizabeth had shied away from the destruction – and her friends – and was trying her best to contain her emotions. “I don’t want to die,” she said through muffled sobs, “I don’t want you two to die, either. We’re going to die…” She clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms. “They’ll come for us! We’re like princesses, Astrid! They’ll kill us for sure!”

Seeing Elizabeth break down caused Astrid’s own precarious emotions to overwhelm her too. She pulled Elizabeth towards her and the two girls cried open in each other’s arms. Vespa growled her disapproval, but turned away from them as if she too was having trouble controlling her feelings.

“I’m not ready to die yet, Lizzie,” said Astrid, “We can’t die here. We can’t. We’re supposed to be the good side, aren’t we? We’re supposed to be the heroes! And Father, he’s our mentor and guide,” she paused, “Father!”

Astrid pulled herself away and screamed at the destruction, wishing her vocal chords could somehow put out the blaze.

Run.

Was that her father’s voice? It sounded like it, but it was in her head?

It won’t be safe for us here any more. Get away and I’ll find you later. There’s a lot I have to explain.

How was her father talking to her? Was it her imagination?

I’ll explain everything later, Astrid, just trust me!

“Astrid, are you okay?” asked Elizabeth.

I’m sorry for not being an honest father. I promise I’ll make it up to you after this is over.

Astrid watched the fires, the heat drying her tears. A handful of brave Crusaders were approaching the flames, stabbing at the rubble with their swords as if they were searching for something, while a few hapless initiates tried to fight the ravishing inferno with whatever ineffective means they could muster. It was obvious, though, that the fire was beyond anyone’s control now – even the drizzling rain couldn’t quell it. The manor she’d called home for almost a decade now would soon be nothing more than a burnt husk.

“We should go,” she said, “Let’s…let’s just go.”

Astrid leant forwards and pulled off her heeled shoes, then tossed them aside, turned from the fires and walked away, her two friends following in silent unison. She knew who she was going to blame for all this, but right now she just wanted to get away from it all. Vengeance could wait until she was safe with her father again.

***

Chapter 23
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