These people were utterly unmoved by his escape.
Confused, he braced himself against the wall and got to his feet. Trembling, he started toward the main gate. Once he confirmed that the wizards would not attack him, he was already jogging by his third step.
More doors opened behind him one after another. Footsteps merged into a chaotic rhythm in the corridor. Someone shouted something; someone else tripped over a threshold, scrambled up, and kept running. Every Dark wizard in the main building was moving in the same direction—the gate.
The iron gate leading to the docks and the open sea now stood wide open. Wind poured through it, carrying the scent of salt and freedom.
The first group crossed through the gate. Bare feet slapped against the dock's stone surface; someone stumbled, got back up, and kept running. The second group squeezed through the doorway, their shoulders scraping the metal edges as they picked up speed. The third group began accelerating halfway down the passage. Someone shouted something, their voice amplified twofold by the passage's echoes and carried back toward the main building's entrance hall.
The Auror captain's hand was still shaking.
His hand slipped from the runic key's handle and fell to the clasp of his wand holster. He undid it half a beat slower than normal, because his fingertips slid over the metal clasp before catching hold.
When he pulled out his wand, he found that its tip was pointing upward. He turned it around, gripped it properly, and took a step toward the passage.
The five people behind him spread out even farther. Some edged toward the windows, some backed into corners, and only one followed him forward for two steps.
More footsteps came from the docks. Some had already reached the pier where the speedboat