“No. I’m sorry,” is his soft reply.
My heart twists in my chest. No, no, no.
“Zev!” I shout into the crumbling darkness.
There’s no answer.
“ZEV!” Again and again, I call out his name.
“Enough, Mayah,” Tumaas says, his voice hoarse from the dust that’s likely invaded his lungs. “He might already be digging his way out. We need to do the same.”
I repeat his words in my mind, holding onto them like a promise as Tumaas digs out a path through broken stone.
I lose sense of how long it takes. Just a mindless loop of climbing, hefting, shoving. My hands are scraped raw, knees aching and bloody, every step sending pain lancing up my calves. When we stop at brief intervals to rest, I alternate healing myself, Mona, and Tumaas, but not extensively. I need to save my reserves—we don’t know what awaits us at the surface.
We finally emerge, atop a mountain of rubble, the camp sprawled below.
Or what remains of it.
It’s pure, utter chaos. We’re under attack.
Buildings leveled, screaming people, thick coils of smoke.
Roots clawing through the ground, electricity crackling in the air.
The stench of burned bodies.
The sky tears open. Rain pelts my face, turns pink as it mixes with the blood weeping from my open cuts.
I swivel my head, searching every horizon.
Thunder rumbles across the sky, but for once, I ignore it.
“Zev!” I shout, cupping my hands around my mouth. “ZEV!”
Tides, is he still under the rubble?
I don’t see him anywhere. Tides damn me, I don’t see him.
“We need to find Zev.” I don’t recognize my voice.
Tumaas’s face is grim as he exchanges a brief glance with Mona. “We need to findSura,” he says gently. “And we need to defend the camp. He’ll make it out, Mayah. Maybe he already has.Please.”
I don’t have time to cry. I don’t have time to hope. Tides, he’s right. Zev is a strong, capable wielder. He doesn’t need me to save him.
Focus. Focus, Mayah.
Sura needs you. These people need you.
Tumaas and Mona climb down the mountain of stone. I spare one more glance around me, waiting for Zev’s hand to push through the stone.
“Mayah!” Tumaas shouts from below, and I startle. With a deep breath, I follow them.
“I need food,” I say at the bottom. My hands and feet are scraped raw, but I don’t waste my reserves.
“The armory is closer. We’ll hit that first. Then the kitchens, yeah?”
I nod. Mud squelches beneath our bare feet as we dart through the rain. Everywhere around us, people are running, taking cover, helping dig out leveled buildings. We turn a corner—an earthwielder stands wedged between two buildings, summoning thick roots through the splintering stone.
