“Working.”
I clenched my fists with worry.
Then the tower shuddered as a shockwave erupted from the courtyard below.
When I regained my footing, I could see that some of the chanting prisoners had collapsed, and the dark shadows swirling around the room had multiplied. My skin prickled. Were those faces in the shadows?
I ran to the bottom of the stairs and started ascending. “Ethan, we need to do something now! Shit is getting wild down there.”
Devi leaned over the railing above. “We’ve got it. We’re going to initiate riot suppression procedures to interrupt the ritual. Then Ethan will let the archmages in to deal with Dragan and the more powerful prisoners.”
The tower shook again. “We might not have that long!”
An alarm horn blared, and the sound of a woman’s soothing prerecorded voice echoed though the prison. “All inmates must return to their cells. Inmates who do not return to their cells will be incapacitated and subject to isolation procedures.”
“You think they’re going to comply?” Jaxson roared incredulously as he vaulted up the stairs behind me.
“Of course not!” Ethan shouted from above. “That’s just an automated recording. But this might get them to listen up.”
The tower reverberated with a drone that made my stomach churn and head spin. I reached for a railing to keep from falling, and I was glad I’d already emptied my stomach.
I could tell the effect was far worse down below. The prisoners looked around in wild confusion, and those still in their cells on our level threw up.
“What the hell was that?” I screamed.
“Vibrations to disorient. It won’t hurt their ears, but at least we’ve stopped them from chanting. Now we put them to sleep,” Devi shouted to us as we returned to the platform.
Plumes of pink-gray gas began pouring from vents along the edges of the tiers. Some of the haze lingered in the walkways, but most cascaded down like a waterfall to pool in low clouds in the open space below.
The Order team had the cameras working again, and the chaos played out on the array of monitors.
A few prisoners ran for the doors. A couple made it through the exits, but more began to stagger and drop to their knees in the clouds of gas, quickly passing out. But the werewolf cultists regained their balance and continued their chant.
Dread twisted along my spine. “It’s not strong enough! They’re not stopping!”
“It’ll take longer for werewolves. The gas needs time to build up,” Ethan muttered as he flipped through a notebook of instructions.
I looked down in horror at the scene below us. A dark storm was brewing, whipping the clouds of gas into a spiral around the walls. Ethereal ghosts swirled along with the wind, their mouths open in silent cries.
This was bad.
“Can you see the ghosts?” I asked Jaxson.
He nodded.
Okay, really bad.
I returned my attention to the cultists on the monitors. One werewolf’s head lolled to the side, but his mouth kept moving, and his arms remained raised in the air.
“Shit!” I shouted. “They’re like zombies or automatons or marionettes. They’re not going to stop, even as they fall asleep!”
Jaxson grabbed two gas masks from a locker with riot gear and turned Ethan. “Can you vent the gas? We’ve got to go down there to stop this ourselves.”
“Yes, but we need the other archmages,” Ethan shouted as he held up a pile of notes and some prison schematics. “This place isn’t meant to be reopened once it’s locked down. I need to take the defenses down one by one to get them in without letting the prisoners escape.”
“Well, we’re out of time.” I took one of the gas masks from Jaxson and tugged it down over my face. “It’s up to us to disrupt the ritual.”
As we darted for the door of the control room, Devi and one of the agents joined us. “We’re coming with.”
I nodded. “Thanks. And good luck.”
Jaxson pressed the button on the blast door. It flew open, revealing two white-eyed werewolf inmates with their claws out, waiting for us.
Well, no one said it was going to be smooth.