Arlott's eyes cut toward the church section.
Empty.
The High Cleric, the bishop, every official robe that had been seated there minutes ago, all of it gone. They had moved, and quickly, without a word to anyone around them.
That alone told him everything he needed to know about how bad this was about to get.
...
Back in the clearing, Leon was still locked with the shadows when the air shifted again.
White cloaked figures descended, five of them, moving with the kind of stiff, ceremonial precision that belonged to people who answered to institutions rather than individuals. The one at the center carried a large scroll, unrolling it with both hands as the others fanned out, forming a loose perimeter.
