The scream cut off like a candle pinched between two fingers.
For one full second, nobody in the Ancestral Hall moved. Then Chief Chen was running—not walking, not striding with the dignity he'd worn like a second skin all night, but running, sandals slapping hard against the stone floor, robes flaring behind him like something trying to escape its own body.
"Chief!" Priest Xu called after him, but Chief Chen didn't stop, didn't even turn his head.
"He Jian." Lin Yue was already moving. "Get everyone out. Now."
He didn't wait to see if the order landed. He Jian had spent five instances learning to trust the particular flatness in Lin Yue's voice when something was actually wrong, versus the flatness he used for everything else, and he was already herding Bai Wuyin toward the door with one broad hand at the boy's back.
Outside, the village had come apart at the seams.
