The first sound after the thunder was not applause or orders or any word given shape.
It was the wet crackle of lightning wandering the floorboards, licking across puddles and rivulets and the thin sheets of water that had run from Crystal's shattered shell.
Sparks leapt from boot to boot. Cloaks flashed with crawling light. Staves rolled on the floor, others burned from the heat of the strike.
Then the screaming began.
"Ahhhh... Ahhh!" one of the parents cried as he gripped his arm and tried to force his muscles to move.
Teachers staggered and flung up sigils that misfired into their own faces. The air smelled of rain and singed hair and the bitter, brown edge of burned leather.
"No! Brother!"
"Teacher!"
Cries from the audience were heard as the shocking lightning suddenly became alive again and zapped outward, striking many across the arena.
