Page 148 of The Fae Warrior's Queen

Even if there were a hundred portals, it wouldn’t change the fact that there hasn’t been enough time to organize an orderly process. Staying calm might not be a realistic option, and I predict we’re about to see a ridiculous level of buffoonery once everyone loses their sensibilities to the panic.

It’s already happening on the other side of the wall.

A dozen warriors are at the closed gate. They’re pushing against it, trying to keep it shut because the crowd behind the doors might bust through. The plank to keep the entrance locked is in place, but the wood is splitting from the force of everyone breaking in.

I understand the strategy the warriors are implementing. They’re letting in a couple hundred people at a time so no one gets mowed down.

Picking Ro up, I say, “Hold on and fly with me. I want to get an aerial view.”

She clings to me, and when I get high enough, my jaw drops at what I see.

It’s worse than I thought. So much is happening at once, I don’t know where to look.

In the west, the sky is illuminated by the incoming chunks of the moon. In the opposite direction, dusk is on the horizon, painting the sky a hazy purple that’s dotted with orange clouds, but the beautiful backdrop is a stark contrast to the current events.

The bridge leading to the gate is packed full of people who are pushing and shoving each other. The mob goes all the way down the street, reaching as far as the maypole in the town square.

No wonder the warriors are having trouble keeping the gate closed. They’re no match for thousands of rioting people.

And that’s what it is.

A riot.

It’s not the first time I’ve seen one, but it is the largest I’ve ever witnessed.

People are getting knocked from the platform. Before they can fall, their wings bust out and they take to the sky. Weapons come out in retaliation. Women are screaming because they have small children who can’t fly yet.

Several warriors soar over the wall to interfere with the violence, but all that does is give the rowdy crowd the idea to fly themselves.

Breaking the law, they flap their wings and leap onto the palace grounds. Some of the guards try to stop the intruders, but I’m guessing there was a no-harm order given because they don’t use violence or powers.

One man, a newer member of the military named Webster who I personally trained, puts himself in front of three men and two women who’re making a beeline for one of the portals. Holding his hands out in a ‘stop’ motion, Webster tries to reason with the unruly citizens, but one of the men clobbers him over the head with the hilt of his sword.

Webster falls to the grass with a bleeding gash above his eyebrow.

His efforts were honorable, but they were in vain. Because the gate doesn’t hold. The plank snaps in half, and people come pouring in.

Inevitably, some trip and fall, and no one stops to help them. As if they’re mounds of dirt, they get trampled. When I see a child among one of the people getting stepped on, a useless shout gets caught in my throat.

All the peace and unity I’ve been so proud of has vanished in the face of imminent death, and I’m disappointed in the dreadful reality.

The bell finally stops ringing, but there’s a constant thunder-like roar coming from the sky that’s getting louder with each passing second. The menacing sound heightens the panic.

I can’t stand to watch any more of the rioting, so I spin away.

Near the gardens, there’s an ingenious third line of defense setting up. Twelve cannons are in a row, pointed at the meteors.

I fly that way and land, my feet touching down on the lawn near the walkway to the gardens.

Things aren’t as hectic over here because the civilians don’t want any part of this fight, but it’s not any less upsetting.

Ro huddles closely, her body trembling as we watch a heartbreaking scene unfold.

Princess Danyetta’s being dragged by her brothers to a well-concealed portal around the back of the palace. They each have one of her hands in an iron grip, while King Kirian and Queen Quinn hover nearby as if they’re ready to join in the wrangling if they must.

Torius is trailing behind them with Princess Greenlee in his arms. The little girl is crying uncontrollably, and he doesn’t look happy, but his face is resigned. He’s forsaking his kingdom for his family. And that’s the way it should be.

Alongside him, Lady Isla is carrying two suitcases and a backpack. The luggage is practically busting at the seams like they tried to pack light, but they’re prepared for a lengthy stay.

---