Atticus followed the woman's gaze to the distant sky, but once again he felt nothing. Whether her senses were simply sharper than his, or his own perception was dulled by the limits placed on his power, he couldn't tell, but he knew better than to dismiss her warning.
"How many," he asked quietly. "And what direction?"
The woman fell silent, long enough for Atticus to notice the first streaks of light tearing across the sky, then dozens more, cutting through the clouds as they closed in from every direction.
She spoke only then.
"…everywhere."
The figures slammed into the ground around them, their impact sending dust and debris billowing outward as trees cracked and toppled under the force.
"Ah! If anyone ever told me I'd get to fight you again, I'd have called them mad!" a familiar voice rang out. "But to think I'm the mad one."
