It grew steadily larger and brighter. At first it looked like a bird, a dove perhaps, something feathered and white. Then a cry of wonder went up from those around us. I couldn’t understand what all the fuss was about. Why was everyone so excited?

Most birds, apart from corpse fowls, owls, and a few other species, roosted at night. But who knew what was normal in these northern climes? However, judging by the crowd’s reaction, this was something strange and wonderful, something that was worth dragging yourself from your bed at midnight for.

And then a shiver ran the length of my spine. I saw that it was not a bird after all.

This flying creature had a human shape!

“It looks like an angel!” Jenny exclaimed.

Lower and lower it came, until the figure hovered not more than fifty feet above the heads of the three mystics. Completely covered in white feathers but for the head, it had two wings, each at least the length of its body. The face was that of a girl, and it was beautiful, glowing with a silvery light. The limbs were thin, and the enormous wings were rather out of proportion with the body. I had to agree with Jenny: it did look like an angel. It was an astonishing sight—I just didn’t know what to make of it.

Three beams of light were projected from the mysterious flying creature, each of them lighting up one of the three figures below. All three magowie cried out; for what reason I could not tell, but their faces were twisted as if in torment. As one, they fell to their knees, and instantly the creature vanished.

A groan went up from the crowd, which soon became an excited babble. I searched the sky carefully but could detect no sign of movement against the stars. What manner of thing was it that it could vanish like that? Powerful magic was at work here—but who was wielding it?

The central magowie rose unsteadily to his feet, while his companions remained on their knees. He held up his hand until everyone fell silent, then began to speak.

I turned to Grimalkin, who started to translate for my benefit. A burly warrior turned to look at us, but she gave him a withering glare and continued.

“The magowie says that a brave man died today, the champion of Shallotte. He did his duty, but he was not the chosen one. Now the angel has spoken. The one who will prevail against the Shaiksa walks among us! Soon he will declare himself—the moment is almost upon us. Then he will kill Kauspetnd, and before the moon is full he will lead us over the river to victory. Now the magowie bids us return to our beds and gather our strength for the coming battle.”

The three magowie descended from the hill and merged with the crowd. We were forced backward, so we went with the flow and soon found ourselves approaching the camp again.