“Janus?” Eros asked, eyes wide with alarm.
A column of flame raced from the rug up her bedpost, catching the sheets alight. Janus should have screamed, should have called for help, but she gaped in frozen horror.
She choked on smoke that had not been there a moment before. The fire spread within a heartbeat, snaking across the floor onto the other bed. Janus felt like she was trapped in a nightmare; the smoke shouldn’t be so thick, the flames shouldn’t spread so fast.
Was it because of her spell? Had she messed something up?
Unfrozen, Janus bolted to her feet and grabbed Eros, hauling him toward the door. Holding up a hand, she shielded her mouth and eyes from the conflagration.
The door was only a few paces away, but it felt like miles spanned between them. Crashing against it, Janus felt for the knob. Searing heat met her fingers, and she yanked her hand away, screaming. Grimacing, she grabbed it again, ignoring the pain as she twisted it open.
But it was caught, locked from the outside.
“What are you doing?” Eros shrieked, “Open it.”
“I’m trying!” Janus insisted, shaking the handle again without avail.
Stuck. Releasing the handle, Janus cradled her burnt hand. This must be a nightmare. Her bed charred beneath an oppressive flame, and the door was locked, though it should not have been. The curtains’ orange glow intensified as the blaze engulfed them.
Only a narrow path between the beds remained untouched- it led to the window.
Dashing forward, Janus avoided the burning curtains as she pushed her hands between the crack in the window and shoved the glass panes apart. Wind tore into the room, strengthening the fire.
Stone floors and walls fueled their demise—a scene from a nightmare.
“Eros!” Janus beckoned for her brother, who stood choking amongst the unnatural fire. He hobbled forward with uncertain, frightened steps, shrieking as flame singed his hair.
Why had nobody heard them? Why had nobody come?
The once-safe path began to narrow. Unbearable heat bloomed on her shoulder as the fire consuming the curtains spread to her nightgown.
Janus couldn’t stay here. She needed to go. Gasping in pain, Janus looked back at Eros. “Hurry! This way!”
Throwing herself over the window edge, Janus eyed the dizzying fall to the courtyard below before sliding down, grabbing onto the loose bricks with one hand as the other attempted to rip the burning robe off.
She lost balance as the robe came loose. Rough stone tore her fingers as she slid down the wall, blood trailing in her wake. Finding purchase on an outcropping, she stopped her fall.
Why was there no one below them? Two guards were supposed to patrol the courtyard, yet it was empty.
“Help!” Janus screamed, voice echoing in the dark.
A pained cry came from the room above, and Janus stared at the window a few feet above her, the flaming curtains whipping in the wind. That had been Eros.
Scrambling on the walls, Janus tried to climb back up. Eros should have only been a step behind her. Had he been too scared to run for the window?
A pause followed the cry, before panicked screaming ensued. Those were not screams of fear—they were the sounds of excruciating pain.
Her pain vanished. Hauling herself up, Janus climbed back to the window, gashes racking through her fingers.
Her hand caught on the edge of the windowsill, and she hauled herself up, calling for her brother as she thrust her hand into the room, hoping to grab his.
A mighty gale blew against her back, as though the gods intended to throw her off. The window slammed shut, catching her fingers between them.
Pain raged through Janus’ hand, and she lost her grip. Futilely, she attempted to grasp the wall again, only to realize she was falling. The world flew by in slow motion before she hit the ground, a sickening crunch sounding in her leg.
A bone must have broken, but she did not feel it. She lay there in the frigid night, staring up at a window consumed by fire as she listened to the screams of her dying brother.
Five more seconds, she could hear him. Five seconds that felt like a lifetime.
