Another reason the matchmaking system exists. Without regulated bonds, power runs wild.
And this town refuses to treat that like the threat it is.
I text Helena with one hand.
Arrived. Situation looks worse than the initial report. Investigating.
Her response comes a moment later:Keep me updated. Stabilize what you can.
Of course. Always the general.
The station appears ahead, squat and brick and lit from within by flickering emergency bulbs. My driver pulls up under the overhang.
“I’ll be quick,” I tell him, stepping out into the rain.
The wind slams my coat sideways. The ley lines tug again, harder this time, a thread pulling at bone marrow. I steady myself on the railing.
A voice calls from inside. “Hey! You can’t be out there!”
The door swings open, spilling warm light across the steps. A man fills the frame—broad shoulders, uniform damp at the sleeves, close-cropped hair, golden-brown eyes scanning me with concern.
“Sir, there’s a shelter-in-place order,” he says. “No one’s supposed to be outside unless?—”
“Unless they have a reason,” I cut in, stepping past him. “Where’s the sheriff?”
He blinks at my tone. “Who’s asking?”
I pull my identification from my coat, flipping it open so the Council seal catches the light. His expression changes instantly—tension, then recognition, then something like dread.
“Council?” His voice drops. “Damn. Sorry. It’s… it’s been a night.”
“I noticed.”
The cramped lobby is buzzing with static from the broken radios on the counter. The ley lines run close to this building—too close—and they’re vibrating like plucked strings.
The deputy wipes his palms on his pants. “I’m Simon Gallagher, sir. Beta. Sheriff Wilder’s out with the wildfire response team—some of the weather witches lost control during the surge. Lightning hit two buildings. Fires everywhere. He’s with the fire chief at the quarry, trying to get containment.”
So the surge hit the Elementals, too. Wonderful.
“Can you drive me there?” I ask.
Simon hesitates. “I’m supposed to stay here. Hold the fort. Sheriff’s orders until things settle and Council sends—well…” He gestures lamely at me. “Guess that’s you.”
“Then you’ll drive me,” I say. “Council directive.”
He swallows, then nods. “Right. Yes, sir. Let me grab the keys.”
Seeing me about to leave again, my driver heads toward the doorway, but Simon gives him a sheepish smile. “Station’s on lockdown. He’ll have to wait here.”
I don’t give the driver time to protest. “Stay put. I’ll call when I’m done.”
He bows his head. “Yes, sir.”
Simon’s cruiser fishtails slightly as we turn onto the back road leading to the quarry. The wipers can’t keep up with the rain. Every time the clouds flash, my head pulses with the ley lines’ instability. My magic keeps trying to flare in response.
“You okay?” Simon asks after a moment.
“No.”
