Behind him, Rhys parried a blade from one of the choir's fanatics and kicked the man into the water. The choir was losing ground. Their voices were choked by screams, drowned by the brutal chants of the War God's people. One priest tried to raise his voice, but a spear came flying and pierced his thigh. He felt shrieking.
"They're falling apart!" one of the guards shouted.
"Don't give them time to sing!" Rhys ordered.
Kael was already ahead. He sprinted through the chaos like a mad dog, his face twisted in excitement. Blood splattered across his face.
He grabbed another masked priest by the neck and slammed him to the ground.
"You bastard think you can whisper your way to power?" he growled. "Try that in hell."
Suddenly, a high-pitched chant began again. Two choir priests stood at the far end, holding hands, their voices merging into a strange rhythm that felt like it pierced the skull. One of the guards staggered, dropping his weapon.
