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I got as close to the violated circle as I dared.  Could anyone make it out after all?  There was still a lot of magic there they hadn’t fed on yet, but it would take a lot to shake off one nightmare, let alone a swarm of them.  The late arrivals stood around the place of power, watching on in horror. Were they losing family, friends, as the light diminished?

A wave of helplessness came over me—I might have been too close to the circle indeed—but I remembered, then, that I wasn’t too late—I still had my extra time.

I ran.

The nearest circle was a good way off to the north of town, far enough that most people from around here didn’t go—mostly folk from the countryside.  It’d be most of an hour’s walk—but with my extra time, running fast as I could, I hoped to make it in ten minutes.

Hopefully there’d be at least someone who could hold on that long.

Now, our kind may be good runners, but I wasn’t in the best of shape, my trade not being a physically demanding one.  So while I managed to charge through the forest without flagging, when I reached the fields beyond I was already starting to overheat, and I was really starting to hurt by the time I jumped the hedge on the border of the northern woods.

I made it over, but lost my footing, falling flat in the mud.  I guess the rain had come to this end of town.

It felt good—the impact of falling over was nothing next to my aching muscles, but while it would have been nice to just rest there, the nightmares were devouring good maccans.

I pushed myself up against my body’s protests, and started running again, panting hard.

The light of the northern circle was already in view.

I ran into the place of power, yelling, “Sahamma, sahamma, sahai!” I collapsed again as I crossed the threshold. “Nightmares at the town circle.” I couldn’t say any more.

An older maccan got up and stood by me and started directing people.

Spent, I passed out.