But Drust was unable to do anything except stand and watch, fascinated by what was happening. The greenish light was flooding the rooms and passageways of the Keep, and the screams of the men inside were intensifying. Men appeared on the ramparts and balconies and at windows, thrashing and flailing as clouds of mist enveloped them. Some, driven into a frenzy, began throwing themselves off. They fought and clawed and shrieked as the mist attacked them. Those who tried to escape their fate failed to do so. Those who tried to push past simply disappeared. The green mist filled the Keep from basement to tower pinnacles, and everything in between was consumed.

Those Federation soldiers still outside were fleeing for the gates of the Outer Wall, not even bothering to listen to the orders shouted at them by their superiors to stand their ground or make a disciplined retreat. Tendrils of the mist snaked along the ground in pursuit, snatching the fleeing men off their feet and dragging them back inside the Keep.

Not too far from where he stood, Drust watched as Tinnen March scrambled down the stairs of the wall and ran with them.

“We have to get out of here,” Stoon declared, grabbing Drust Chazhul’s arm and dragging him away.

They clambered down the steps to the courtyard and ducked inside a hallway leading to one of the smaller exit doors. Drust was so badly shaken it didn’t even occur to him to argue. He let himself be led like a child down the corridor and back outside, then across the barren stretch of clear-cut and into the trees beyond.

When they had reached the shelter of the woods, they turned back to watch what was happening. The greenish light had enveloped the whole of the Druid’s Keep. It was climbing the walls like a live thing. It was hunting. A kind of odd vapor rose off the ancient stones as it slithered across them, like steam cooling, and the screams emanating from inside began dying away, turning into gasps and groans and finally going silent.

“It looks as if your plans for looting the Keep might have to wait,” Stoon observed drily.

“Only until morning,” Drust declared, evincing a confidence he didn’t feel. He was never going back in there, that much he knew. “We’ll send our men back in then.”

“Don’t bother asking for volunteers.”

Drust felt a weariness sweep through him as he watched the glow pulse softly against the darkness. “I wonder how many died in there?”

Stoon shook his head. “Do you really want to know?”

“Most must have made it out.”

Stoon did not respond.

“Well, it’s not our problem.”