The locals--a bunch of Canadien women and children, mostly--scowled at the intruders, not understanding what was going on, but knowing that whatever it was, it wouldn't be good.
A sleigh stopped nearby, horses snorting unhappily, but Aylen didn’t turn, didn’t acknowledge it.
“Oh, you can’t be serious,” said Justice Sutherland, stomping up to Aylen’s side. He gestured to the building. “I’m not in the fire brigade, sir. And certainly not in Lowertown. What am I meant to do about this?”
“Search for survivors,” said Aylen, ominously.
Sutherland’s face went blank. Surely Aylen wasn’t serious! Search for—
Aylen laughed, patted the judge on the back. “I’m just fooling, your honour. That’s not a job for a man of your stature.” He turned, tone darker than before and said: “Besides, there aren’t any survivors to find.”
Sutherland shivered, eyes darting to the witnesses nearby and spoke quietly: “If this is a warning, I assure you—”