The long, unbroken blast of the horn cut straight through the thick wood of the chapel like it had been aimed at John's ears on purpose.
He was already half asleep by now while sitting in his chair when the second wave of the same desperate note rolled in, breaking his small sleep, which was supposed to let his mind cool down a little after using so much divine magic after a long time. The three men in this private chamber with him jerked upright when they heard the sudden loud sound.
The boss frowned hard enough to pull his scarred brow down over one eye. "Huhhh, what the hell is that, old man? Why's a siren going off now? Does it happen all the time, or is something going on out there?"
John's irritation flared before he could stop it. He was already moving toward the door, one hand shoving the chair back with a scrape that sounded too loud in the small room.
"Don't you see I'm standing in the same damned room as you?" he snapped. "How am I supposed to know without walking out there and looking for myself?"
The man understood John might've been a little sleepy while saying that. After all, getting his sleep to break suddenly with this loud sound might've made him irritated now.
"Right. Sorry. You need us out there? Is this about what you said before, tonight being the night?"
John paused with his hand on the latch. He looked back at the three of them, travel-worn, still carrying the dust of the road on their boots.
"Maybe, who knows. You three stay here. The least you can do right now is rest and keep yourselves out of everybody's way. Not everybody is welcoming toward outsiders in this village. So stay here for me."
The man stayed seated. His eyes followed John all the way to the door and stayed there even after the heavy wood closed behind the priest. John felt the weight of that stare on the back of his neck for three full steps before the corridor swallowed it.
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The open hall of the chapel was already filled with bodies and low, urgent voices. Lantern light threw long shadows across the stone floor. People who had been sleeping on the benches or talking in quiet clusters were now standing, some still rubbing sleep from their eyes, others already checking with each other, wondering what that sound of horn was about.
Elder Verna stood near the center of it all, tall even with the slight stoop age had given her. Kaela hovered at her right side like a shadow the old woman refused to let drift more than an arm's length away. Shilla and Maen stood in front of Verna, still breathing hard from the run, faces tight from tension.
Verna's head turned the moment John's boots hit the open floor. She straightened, one hand still resting lightly on the head of her staff.
"Those three finally sleeping?" she asked without preamble.
John gave a short nod. His eyes drifted past her to the two Fiora women. He remembered they had left them at the gate only a short while earlier. Seeing them here, in the chapel, with the horn still echoing in his ears, told him everything he needed to know before anyone spoke another word.
Verna followed his gaze and snorted.
"Then what are you standing around for? Get moving. We're going to the gate."
John held up a hand.
"Wait a minute, Elder. Take more of your hunters with you. That horn at this hour makes me wonder if more monsters came from the forest. It wouldn't even surprise me right now if it's a full wave of monsters, considering how quiet it was till now."
Verna was already turning, staff tapping once against the stone as she started toward the doors. Her voice floated back over her shoulder, dry and almost amused.
"You don't have to worry about numbers on my account. That lad of yours, Lys, already sent these two the second the first shapes showed themselves. It seems he is more capable than I gave him credit for, I'll admit. Being young is no longer a good enough reason to look down on boys these days. That boy's got guts when it counts."
Something warm and unexpected moved through John's chest, hearing Verna, the elder of the most notorious tribe in this region, speak so highly of Lys. It might be pride, or the complicated cousin of it, which filled him, that came with watching the man his daughter had chosen prove himself in front of people who did not hand out praise easily.
"Even if I was slow to see it," he said, falling into step beside her for a few paces as they were now out of the chapel, right into the half-dark street, "those young girls, Rhuvia and Vessa, seem to have an eye for the real thing. They put him in charge of this mess without blinking. Must have known he'd hold."
Verna stopped so abruptly that Kaela nearly walked into her back. The old woman's eyes narrowed.
"What did you just say? He hadn't been given that authority by the village council? By any of you?"
John's hand went up to the back of his neck before he could stop it. The guilt was visible on his face for not recognizing Lys's value before.
"Uhh, the situation was… tight back then. And Bezos, that idiot." He cut himself off, eyes flicking toward the side road that led out into the night streets. "Oh, speaking of that idiot. You go on ahead with your people, Elder. I've got somewhere else I need to be."
Verna's snort this time was pure disdain.
"Why waste breath on that thick-headed ox? He's nothing but temper and noise. I told you years ago, didn't I? You should never have backed him for chief."
John exhaled through his nose, remembering the old arguments he used to have with this woman back in the day.
"Well, what can I do? Tradition, I guess," he muttered. "A man has to sit at the head of the village in this country. You know that, as do I. And I told you before, I don't envy that position, however much you ask for it. All I'm good for is just staying out of his way when he goes chasing skirts. It is far more easier for me to keep the peace that way."
Verna's mouth twitched. The expression was almost a smile, but it carried too many years of shared history with John to be kind.
"Don't sell yourself short, you sleazy old man. I remember clearly. You looked real cozy with him last year at that noble's party. Standing there sharing wine like a pair of old dogs who forgot how to bite."
John's only answer was a low, wordless grumble that might have been agreement or pure irritation. He did not argue further.
"Okay, I'll part with you from here. Will be three shortly with Bezos, I guess."
He turned down the side corridor that led toward the street, running to Bezos's house. Verna watched him go for half a heartbeat, then clicked her tongue once and raised her voice to the hunters coming behind her.
"Why are you guys pacing with me, an old woman? Go faster, ahead of me."
Kaela was about to move past her with the rest of the hunter women, but then the old woman grabbed her hand, as if saying, "Where do you think you're going? You are to stay beside me, where I can watch over you all the time, so that you don't cause any more trouble." With that, only Kaela stayed glued to her side as the whole group behind them poured out into the night in front. The old woman's staff struck the stone in a steady, unhurried rhythm that somehow matched the fading echo of the whole group's footsteps.