Detective Icehart: Twin Crowns by B.T. Frost

Author:B.T. Frost [Frost, B.T.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: B.T. Frost
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 17

To utter ‘fireball’ was considered poor form and foul language. All were aware that it was the name of a spell, but fewer and fewer outside the arcane community remembered why it was considered such a thing. Fireballs were only cast by the most skilled of users. It was not easy to compress air, ignite the exterior, and throw it without it prematurely exploding. Many apprentices were killed throughout the centuries as they attempted to master it. Many more innocents were consumed by those failures.

Warring nations would hire mercenary wizards to rain Fireballs down upon unsuspecting villages. The devastation it caused was unparalleled in the old world. If someone were to hear the howling and roaring scream of a lobbed Fireball, it usually meant they didn’t have long to live and would soon be greeted by the god of death.

To make matters worse, jugs of oil were sometimes held in the core of compressed air. It made the explosions bigger and the flames stick to whatever was caught in the blast. There was no forgiving anyone that utilized such tactics.

Amelia had seen a Fireball demonstrated only once before, while studying combative elements. The instructor that generated it was deemed the best in the city and had produced a Fireball about as big as a small gnome cart. It devastated a large chunk of land in the distance and left a crater two steps deep and twenty steps across.

Every student that had witnessed the destructive power was easily divided into one of two groups: those in awe of the power and devastation of the spell, and those that were terrified by it. Amelia was one of the latter. Just thinking of the potential devastation it would cause in a populated city left her dizzy and sick to her stomach.

When she heard it approaching the singing procession, the bottom of her stomach dropped out and her legs nearly turned to jelly. The screams came first. Choir singing devolved to maddened panic. Panic was then drowned out by the harrowing roar of flames and the near-deafening impact.

Despite the brick and mortar of the precinct being infused with arcane wards and barriers, the building trembled. The doors burst inward and sent splinters rocketing into the lobby. Flames followed and belched out from the entrance in a massive red-hot pillar that turned black with smoke.

Nobody had enough warning; it all happened in a moment. Amelia only had enough time to recognize the sound and draw in a breath that she might shout, but it was too late.

The billowing black clouds rose to the roof and the detectives’ bullpen. It choked them all and blinded them from seeing the damage below.

For a brief few seconds, there was quiet shock. Bits were still falling and clattering to the floor, flames were still crackling and popping, but nobody was speaking. Cries for help began to ring out from the dark cloud, and screams of pain and sorrow followed. That was the beginning of the chaos.

Amelia coughed violently and tried to expel the smoke from her lungs and wave it away from her face.

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