“Exactly.”
Casimir frowned. “What of the ice fae? It’s possible they could counter the efforts to heat the water.”
“They could try…” Maeryn adjusted the golden sword on her back. “But I believe we have enough lava wielders to prevent their success. Either way, we shall plan for that contingency.”
Casimir met eyes with his fellow general. “Let’s do it.”
Oppressive heat surrounded him,making it almost impossible to breathe.
His lungs ached.Burned.
And he couldn’t see. Why couldn’t he see?
Oh. Smoke. Smoke? Where the fuck did it come from? Was the camp burning?
It was everywhere. Black and thick. He tried to wave it away, tried to find someone…anyone…
The scent of charred wood invaded his nostrils.
Raine looked up from where he knelt on the ground. There was wood beneath him. A wooden floor.Where am I?
Terror ripped through him at the sight of flames and smoke around him. He tried to breathe again, but the heat invaded his lungs, choking him.
A voice cried for help.
Raine crawled toward it. Who was it? It was familiar…
There it was again. A whimper. “Brother…”
Fanya? But she wasn’t here. She was back in Mosshaven.
What the fuck is going on?
He tried to stand, but couldn’t move. Could hardly see. He placed a hand on his chest, attempting to take a breath.
The voice cried again.
Resuming his crawl, he searched, still trying to take in air.
His vision wavered. His pulse raced. He was going to pass out.
There.
Fanya. His sister. Her delicate features scrunched in agony. Half her face was burned, her skin charred.
She moaned.
No. No, no, no.
Raine’s lungs squeezed and he gasped. But he couldn’t breathe…couldn’t breathe…couldn’t breathe…
“Raine,” a voice called his name in the distance.
He scrambled…something tightened around his throat. He scratched and pulled, the sting of fingernails digging into his flesh…but there was nothing there.
Help! I can’t breathe! Somebody help me!
“Raine!”
