Dust shakes from the ceiling.
And peoplescream.
I don’t hear my name anymore.
“Zev!” I shout. He was on the other side of the crack that rent the floor in half. “Ze—”
We plummet.
My stomach jumps into my throat.
Tides save us.
The building is splitting in two.
“Shit, shit, shit, shit,” Tumaas mutters in my ear. He slings his arm around my waist, the other arm hooked into the doorway. “Mona!” he shouts over his shoulder, but the sound is lost in the destruction.
My arms tighten around Tumaas.
I brace for death.
Time slows. We fall for hours, though it must be only seconds before there’s a loud, bone-rattlingboom.
The air rushes from my lungs.
My head rears up and slams back into the crumbling floor.
The building crushes us in a shower of broken stones and cracked beams. Tumaas takes the brunt of it, shielding me with his massive body, though we’re lucky we’re near the door frame.
An eternity passes before the shaking stops. Tumaas staggers to his knees, knocking away debris. “Mona!” he shouts. “MONA!”
It’s dark and suffocating. With my every breath, dust invades my throat, until it feels like I’m breathing through sandpaper.
“…in here…” Mona’s voice is faint, but close.
Tumaas hefts jagged pieces of wood and broken furniture, each movement sending fresh dust floating through the air. He manages to crawl through the chaos around us.
I cast out my powers, searching for moisture, but there’s not enough to summon. Eyes clenched, I try again and again, but it’s fruitless.
Rocks scrape together nearby. It’s pitch black.
“Stand back, Mayah.” Tumaas’s muffled voice calls through the stone. Loud thuds, more scraping, and then he pulls free.
“Come on, love,” he says, climbing through the remains of his room, Mona’s arms slung around his neck. “I’ve got you.”
“Are you hurt?” I rasp, coughing through the dust coating my throat as I crawl closer. My knees and palms are shredded.
“I think my leg is broken.” Her voice is steady. A good sign.
My hands glow, the light glinting off the faint sheen of sweat coating Mona’s forehead. I set my palms to her leg, and swiftly heal the break.
“Better?”
She nods, breathless. “You’re awfully handy in a crisis, Mayah.”
I don’t respond. My stomach is twisted in knots.
“Did you see anyone else?” I ask Tumaas.
