I peer down at the square. No one has seen me; all is quiet. The huddled figure of Sarah could be a sack dumped on the steps far below and across from me.
I walk across the rooftop and the scene down there on the ground on the other side of the building is slowly revealed to me, scrolling into view as if a stage curtain is being lifted. The updraft breathes smells of fire and decay into my face.
And what I see is basically an army. It looks like something from a festival: a vast hoard of creatures, tens of thousands of them, spreading thickly out from a well-lit central stage.
Except it isn"t really a stage, more of an altar. A raised, square, ornately decorated platform. Vine-like pillars wind up from each of the four corners to meet in gothic arches.
The crowd isn"t quite right e
