The old woman, whose attention had been focused on the roof, lowered her gaze to deal with the more immediate threat. She spread her fingers, and tendrils of flame licked out like whips, igniting anyone they touched as though the attackers had been doused in lamp oil. The woman who’d been standing beside Marcus screamed as she went up like a torch, dancing like a mad, blazing marionette until she collapsed, still burning. Farther forward, one of the grenadiers was hit, and her satchel exploded with a thunderous roar, spraying blood and bits of flesh in all directions.

That seemed to give the old woman pause, and the fire curled about her like a snake wrapping her in burning coils. One of the grenadiers, a gawky blond boy, dug one of the makeshift bombs out of his satchel and threw it. The fiery snake snapped out, intercepting the projectile in midair, and the powder burst blasted the snake’s head into a thousand gobbets of flame that sprayed in every direction.

The woman took a step back as Walnut and one of Jane’s girls skidded to a halt and hurled their own grenades, her fire again flicking out to catch the bombs. It caught one, but the blast scattered it badly enough that the second grenade reached the ropes of flame coiled around the Penitent Damned, detonating mere feet from her. Fire sprayed like liquid, raining down across the crossroads in a shower of white-hot droplets, and Marcus’ view of the old woman was obscured by the cloud of powder smoke.

It won’t finish her, he thought. Raesinia had nearly hit her with a powder barrel, back in the warehouse, and that hadn’t been enough. Someone has to go over and drive a knife in her heart, just to be sure.

“Marcus!” a girl’s voice shouted. “The seedies are coming!”

Marcus spun. Coming up the street from the south was a mob of militia, a hundred or more, some of them already grimed with powder smoke. They must have been in the fighting already. Marcus’ Leatherbacks, staggered by the Penitent Damned’s supernatural assault, hesitated in the face of this new threat, and Marcus could feel them teetering on the brink of flight. Damn.

There was exactly one option open to him to prevent this from becoming a massacre. He gestured desperately with his sword at the cloud of smoke.

“Walnut, make sure she’s down.” Marcus wasn’t certain the big man heard him over the shouts of the charging militia, but there was no more time. He raised his own voice to a hoarse roar. “Everyone else, follow me!”