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black, a sea of fire that roiled and bubbled as it spread.
                She threw the mage down to the floor, hard. He snarled at her, attempting to push her away. One of his hands caught her face and she felt his fingers digging into an eye, but she refused to be dislodged.
                Her gauntleted fist came down on his face— once, twice, three times . . . and then something made a cracking sound. She stopped. The ballroom was still aflame, but none of it was the mage's any longer. He was still, his features twisted in a mess of blood, vacant eyes staring up at her in silent accusation.
                And then everything went black.
                 
                 
                When Evangeline came to, she found herself seated on the floor of the terrace just outside the ballroom. Normally it was where the palace's guests might have come to take in the evening air, a place of tranquility, but at the moment it was pure chaos. Swarms of people milled about, some weeping on the ground, some shouting. A noblewoman in a tattered dress wandered nearby, close to hysterics as she called out a man's name. A fat nobleman sat on the ground nearby, his expensive surcoat blackened with blood as a guardsman tried to tend his wounds. In the distance she could spot the city guard running into and out of the palace, desperate to restore order.
                How long had she been out here? Was the Divine safe? It was all too much to take in, the confusion flowing around her in a sea of random voices. She tried to get to her feet, but the pain slammed into her like a fist. Gritting her teeth, she eased back down and tried to maintain consciousness.
                Smoke billowed out from the palace windows, and only now the fire brigade arrived with buckets in hand. With any luck they would get the flames under control before half the palace burned down. If that happened, the Empress might be less than impressed when she returned from Halamshiral.
                That was, Evangeline reminded herself, if the Empress wasn't somehow involved in the attack. Her absence the very night a mage slips into the palace to attack the Divine seemed more than coincidental. If that were the case, there was little the templars could do about it. If it wasn't, someone would pay.
                She was wracked by a spasm of coughing, and her vision blurred. "Are you all right, Knight- Captain?" someone asked her.
                It took several blinks before she recognized Leliana, the red- haired woman she'd spoken to earlier. She knelt down next to Evangeline, a look of sincere concern on her face. "What?" Evangeline responded dumbly, feeling as if a fog seeped through her mind. She rubbed her forehead, and only belatedly noticed the blisters on her hands were gone. Her skin was whole.
                Leliana smiled, reassured. "There are mages here now. I had one of them heal you, but there will still be pain. You inhaled a great deal of smoke, I think. I was worried . . ."
                "I'm fine. Thank you." Evangeline shook her head. The shouts around her were much clearer now, like the world was coming into focus. "The Divine . . . she wasn't hurt, was she? Did she get out?"
                "She did. She's been taken to safety." Evangeline breathed a sigh of relief. One less thing to worry about, then. "I want to thank you," Leliana said. "I should have been here. If something had happened to Justinia while I was away, I would never have forgiven myself."
                "I understand."
                "Her Eminence is extremely grateful as well, I want you to know that. If there is ever anything you need . . ."
                Evangeline nodded, but couldn't bring herself to do more. Satisfied, Leliana squeezed her shoulder and then left. Already more templars were arriving. Order was being