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A sudden heat wave funnels through the entrance behind us. It’s our only warning before the walls collapse, and an explosion skyrockets us out of the small shelter we obtained. Our bodies, brushed with fire and debris, are forcefully ejected, tumbling down the hill in a torrent of screams, rocks scraping through skin, bones banging against hard edges, and my vision swirling with colors and the flipping bodies of my friends.
As the movement comes to a screeching halt, I blink furiously against my blurring sight. A hot gush of red pours into the corner of my left eye, and the only sound I hear is a constant ringing.
“Call-out-t to m-me!” I yell with an involuntary slur. Blood hangs in a string of drool from the corner of my mouth, dipping into the mud under my jaw as I cough.
My ribs implode with each jolting contraction. Sharp daggers pierce my brain. And for a single heartbeat, I wonder where I am. Is anything broken? My mind goes into survival mode, forgetting about our current situation to determine if I’m dying. I roll my ankles, bend my knees, shift my hips. Nothing broken, I don’t think. But my entire body will swell and bruise tomorrow, if I live that long.
You will, Kalidus commands.
Dust and smoke construct a new atmosphere between all of us. I can’t see past its towering barrier, can’t breathe in its toxic particles.
“I feel—like I just gave birth—to my brain.” The voice isn’t recognizable through the ringing in my ears, yet I know it’s Niles. Because of course it’s Niles. And through the pain of my pulsing jawbone, I smile.
An object cracks into my cheekbone so hard, my head whips to the side from the brutal lashing. More blood and saliva spray from my mouth. As my head turns back to the source of the attack to see what hit me, I only have a second for my distorted vision to process the soldier on his knees, swinging his sickle back to aim it for my chest.
A freckled hand loops around his neck, swiping a wide blade through his major arteries. A shower of crimson liquid drenches my left arm and collarbone.
“I heard you already died that way once,” Marilynn says as the body plops on the ground next to me.
I take her hand as she helps me to my feet. “I did. A second time would have lacked creativity.”
“My thoughts, too.” I smile with a wince, wiping the blood from her forehead.
Niles walks up behind her, massaging his shoulder. He looks pretty beat up, but he’s standing, breathing, awake, and walking. That’s a win.
“Where’s Warrose and Ruth?” I ask them with a spike of panic.
“Here!” Ruth calls in desperation. “Help him!”
Despite the gashes in my feet, I run across the wreckage that is similar to shards of glass, following Ruth’s voice through the fog and smoke.
“There!” Niles shouts, pointing to a figure lying still on a slanted rock. Warrose is unconscious on his naked back, still holding Ruth to his chest.
“He slid to the side so he wouldn’t roll on top of me!” Ruth sobs, trying to reach around and point to his back. “I think his back is injured.”
I gulp as I lift his limp shoulder, and sure enough, the skin has been ripped off in slivers from the fall. Blood coats my fingers while I gently lift him to see if anything else is seriously harmed.
“Marilynn, get some water,” I say in a low voice.
She hands me a canteen, and I use it to splash cold water in his face. Warrose gasps, flinches, then opens his eyes to glare at me angrily.
“It’s going to hurt like hell, buddy. But I need to know you can keep moving.”
My friend groans, guttural, coming from the depths of his core as he sits up. The stomping of feet, wild hissing, and snarling comes closer. Warrose nods, hardening his face in an attempt to show no weakness.
I take Ruth from his arms once more, jogging over the boulders and carnage stretched across our path. I peek at Ruth’s bandages, now sopping with fresh blood. Her shoulder is dislocated, and she has pieces of gravel lodged in a few of her open wounds.
“I’m good,” she murmurs in a slight haze. Probably coming in and out of shock.
“I know you are.”
Please, God. Help us find a way out of here. I can’t let them die. They’re my responsibility. My family.
As we run and jump over pits and volcanic holes, bits of the army finally catch up to us. Warrose slays a few swamp dawpers that jump out from our left sides. Marilynn takes on two soldiers with double-edged swords, and she wields her small weapons with more speed than I’ve seen from a warrior in battle.
But it’s not enough.
A flaming arrow spears through Niles’s arm. He howls in sudden shock and pain, staring at me with eyes that ask what should I do?
