Chapter 30

Someone had dragged Lynna away for bandaging. Agmar had walked into a room earlier and had been destroying sharp metal objects. Stott wasn't sure what exactly had happened, but when Agmar mentally hurled something into a wall or floor it didn't come back.

Stott had managed to grab a knife that had been chasing him. He had stabbed the knife into a table and broken it. That just resulted in the blade chasing him, and there being nothing for him to grab at.

Now he was carrying someone out. He didn't know who the man was, but his breathing was too shallow. Outside wasn't necessarily better. There was fighting everywhere he looked. People knocked unconscious just became animated puppets for the evil, and no one had figured out a way to restrain anyone.

Agmar had told them what was going on with rope, but there were few people tied here. He couldn't help but imagine how horrible it must be at the schoolhouse. All the children...Agmar must be furious with himself for not foreseeing that.

He stumbled down the steps, pain raking through the larger wound in his leg as he made his way towards Margaret. The wind whipped wildly in his face as if it couldn't decide which direction it wanted to go, and he closed his eyes as leaves and grit flew into his face. He pushed forward to where others had been laid out onto the ground until Margaret, Elsa, or the ship surgeon who'd been helping out could get to them.

Elsa didn't look to be much help at this point, and Stott worried that she might let the evil have control of her if she got any more panicked. He was only greatful that Margaret had been conscious when someone had untied her. She looked exhausted, however, as she half-walked half-crawled from one wounded person to the next, giving people instructions as she went. A couple of sailors were following her, trying to assist her in bandaging, as well as fending off attackers as they came. Stott put the man on the ground in line with the others and stood up for a moment, shielding his eyes with his hand but trying to see the town around them.

More than half the buildings were burning in any direction he turned to look. Lightning slashed across the sky all around them, bathing the town in flashes of almost daylight-like brilliance that made Stott's eyes hurt whenever he accidentally looked straight at a spot where one happened. There where white jagged streaks in the darkness whenever he blinked.

Is this the peak then? The worst of it? he asked himself. I don't think there will be a town left if it gets much worse. People were moaning in pain all around him. Others screamed in pain or fear. Some were silent, but their eyes were wide with terror. A few looked ready to just lay down and die.

He saw people in the streets, fighting each other, some with weapons or makeshift clubs. Neighbors and best friends trying to kill each other, their eyes red or black, or normal but afraid. Stott felt helpless, knowing he couldn't stop them all.

"Stott? Stott! Here," Margaret got his attention, shoving a length of bandage at him. "Wrap this tightly around that leg for now. Make sure it's tight. Where's this one hurt?" She peered at the man he'd put down on the ground.

"He's having trouble breathing. A bureau flattened him against a wall. Crushed ribs. Maybe worse." He bent down and started wrapping the bandage around his leg, while she prodded the man's chest and abdomen with her fingers.

"Sir?" she told the man loudly, making sure he heard her over the wind and commotion. "You'll have to wait for healing, sir. I don't have what I need to fix you right now. Take slow steady breaths and stay calm. You'll be alright, just try not to move too much."

She looked up at him, and Stott noticed that Margaret had scratches all over her face and what looked like a knife wound in one arm.

"Stott, where's Lynna?"

Stott's heart sank to the pit of his stomach. He tied off the ends of the bandage and stood up again.

"Someone brought her out here. Didn't you bandage her?" He scanned the crowd of wounded and cursed loudly when he didn't see her among them. He saw Mary helping bandage people, and headed towards her as Margaret shook her head and moved on to the next wounded person.

"Mary?" he called out as soon as he was close enough for her to hear. "Have you seen Lynna?" Mary shook her head and stood up to scan the crowd. Stott turned and ran back towards the inn. Agmar will know. If I don't see her, then he'll know how to find her. He stumbled back up the steps, greatful that the Surf and Sleep wasn't on fire as of yet.

Stott ran inside the inn. There were people struggling to restrain four others, including a woman who snarled like a starved and angry animal. She would have been pretty if her hair had not been such a mess and she wasn't drooling all over herself. Lynna wasn't in the room.

The kitchens were empty, and everything in them that could possibly break had been broken. Frying pans and skillets hanging on the wall reached out for him, but the metal hooks they had been hung on had been closed into solid rings. It would take a blacksmith the get them down, now.

Upstairs he found barricaded doors, and several of them had banging and pounding noises coming through them. Someone made a running crash against one door and Stott heard the person slide to the floor. That one did not get back up. He started at another slam behind him, but it was another barricaded door.

He wondered how many of the barricaded people isolated in rooms would just bang the doors, possibly with their heads, until it killed them. Without some proper restraint there was no way to protect them or anyone else from them. Then it occurred to him just what would happen if the inn caught fire.

He was having no luck finding Agmar, so he went back downstairs. Maybe around back, he supposed. The scenes he passed on his way out were not improving.

Outside, behind the inn he saw Yilmack fighting off a crowd, keeping them away from a prone figure. He recognized the dress Lynna had been wearing and yelled her name running to her.

He fell to his knees beside her, and saw that someone had bandaged the knife wound in her stomach, but none of the other injuries had been tended to yet. Yilmack stood over her, blocking attacks with his arms and shoving people back or punching them with his large fists.

"We need ta pull back," Yilmack yelled over the crowd. "Somewh're safe!"

Stott looked around, unable to even imagine a place that might be safe enough at this point.

"Where?"

"There." Yilmack quickly pointed at a wooden shed that stood next to the inn's stables. Images of pitchforks and gardening tools rose up in Stott's mind, and he looked at Yilmack incredulously.

"Are you insane?!"

"No, lad. Trust me." He turned and kicked a woman backwards before she could get to Lynna. The woman howled like a wounded dog before starting to crawl towards them again. "Grab her unner the should'rs an' drag her if she's too heavy. I'll try ta keep 'em off."

Stott found himself slightly insulted by the idea that he might not be strong enough to carry her, after he'd been bringing wounded out of the inn for what had seemed like an hour. He gathered her up in his arms and made his way towards the shed, still hesitant about the choice of it. He pulled open the door and stepped inside.

There wasn't a whole lot of room in the shed, and Stott saw that he'd barely have enough to set Lynna down and still have a place for he and Yilmack to sit next to her. He noticed, as Yilmack came inside and slammed the door shut, that the shed had already had everything removed from inside it, and strange symbols on the ground glowed in the darkness. It also seemed quieter now that they were out of the wind.

"Lay her down. I've been tryin' ta get her in here but it's hard ta carry some'n and still fight off a hoard of angry folk." He knelt down as Stott put Lynna gently on the ground, and started pulling bandages out of a leather bag he had strapped to his belt. Stott grabbed some of them up and helped Yilmack wrap the smaller wounds on her arms and legs, and the large gash across her palm. Stott dabbed at the cuts in her nose and cheeks, noticing how pale her face had gotten.

"Leave those," Yilmack said, pushing Stott's hand away from Lynna's face. "They're not deep an' they aren't bleed'n much anymore. They'll stop on their own quicker if you let 'em be right now." He looked at Stott. "Ye stay here now. This spot's safe. The build'n won't burn and can't be crushed or entered by the evil. The only threat here is the people outside if you let them in. Keep the bar down."

Stott looked and saw that someone had recently put a heavy wooden bar on the door inside the shed, something he normally wouldn't expect to find inside a small toolshed such as this. He looked at Yilmack with confusion.

"Where did... who are you?"

"I'm Yilmack. The rest can come later. Right now I got ta get ta Agmar. Lynna there will hold for a while yet, but I can't do more for her myself. They're gonna try ta kill Agmar worse than they're after her, so he needs help right now. Bar the door behind me an' don't let no one come in until worst of this thing has passed. Don't even let me in. Ye can't be sure right now. Und'rstand?"

Stott nodded, and Yilmack moved to lift the bar.

"Oh, an' don't be mess'n with the runes." He pointed at the glowing symbols on the floor. "They're what's makin' it safe in here." He lifted the bar and handed it to Stott, before lunging forward out the door, shoving the people outside out of his way. He slammed the door shut behind him and Stott hastily jammed the bar back down into place, hearing fists pounding on the door and walls from outside.

"Who is he?" he muttered. Even the name sounded strange. Yilmack, what kind of a name is that? Where is he from? He looked down at the glowing symbols, thinking it rather peculiar that the stranger had showed up at such a convenient time. There had to be something to it, there had to be.

With nowhere else to go he sat down next to Lynna. She looked like she was sleeping peacefully. Yilmack had said the evil couldn't get in. He supposed that probably meant that it was safe to sleep here. She needed it, but who didn't?

Agmar had said she would recover her magic faster with sleep, and Stott wondered how much she'd be able to get. It also, however, worried him that he wasn't even supposed to let Yilmack in. How was he supposed to know when it was safe to go outside? Or were he and Lynna supposed to just stay in here where it was safe?

He started feeling guilty about being in here, safe, and not being outside trying to do something. And what was I able to do on the boat? He put his head in his hands and cried, finally safe to mourn for a little while.

It didn't last as long as he expected. He was just too tired to cry. He tried to think back of the last few days that felt like a week. He had trouble putting some events in order, let alone keep track of when specifically things had happened. He gave up on figuring out how much time had passed since he had slept. It was all a blur.

He looked down at Lynna again and smiled. He was safe, and she was safe, and he was with her. There was no place else he wanted to be just then. He was safe, and there was nothing he needed to do--nothing useful he could do. He laid down along side her, making sure there was room without disrupting those runes. It was a very short time before he fell asleep.