Page 112 of Prince of Darkness and Deceit

My forehead furrows.

I push the magic back into my fingertips, but it refuses to budge. It’s like the days when I couldn’t control it. Only…worse.

Come on, I beg. He needs help.

My magic recoils then goes dormant. Even the layer coating my skin fades into nothing, and the full extent of the room’s oppressing heat crashes into me, making it difficult to breathe.

Shit!

I drop to the floorboard and reach into the hole. His tiny foot is bare. I wrap my hands around his ankle and pivot his foot into a point then guide it out.

The broken boards scratch the backs of my hands, but other than that, the rescue is uneventful. Poor child. He must’ve been too panicked to figure out how to get out of the easy trap. Thank the Gods I came along.

With his foot free, I kneel and gently guide the boy away from the hole and the open window that is too high to jump from safely.

“Can you stand on your own?” I ask.

Red-rimmed eyes glance down as he puts weight on his scratched foot. He nods, lips pressed tight.

“Great. Come on. Let’s get out of here.” I seize his hand, and the shadows along my arm ripple in agitation, churning restlessly beneath my skin as if they know something I don’t.

I ignore it and tuck the boy to my side, hunching over to try and limit inhaling too much of the suffocating smoke. The gray smog makes it hard to see more than two feet in front of me.

We make it through the door and into the narrow hall. The boy’s grip on my waist is so tight, his nails dig through my bodice, biting my skin.

An ominous groan reaches my ears. My head whips up, and my eyes fly wide.

“Look out!” I shove the boy to the right and dive after him before a beam from the burning ceiling crashes down, sending up sparks and ash.

Embers land on my exposed legs. I scream. My magic remains dormant, refusing to alleviate the pain. A tug yanks on my chest, and I swear I hear Ferria scream my name.

I use my skirt to brush the sparks away, then whirl back to the staircase. The burning beam blocks the path.

Damn it!

The blaze creeps along the groaning floor, drawing near. We need to get out of here before the building comes down.

“This way.” I scramble to my feet and half pull, half carry the cowering boy back down the narrow hall.

The layout of the homes I’ve visited fills my head, and I head to the back bedroom.

We stumble through the doorway, then I slam it shut with my shoulder before frantically taking in the room.

There!

A window with no fire around it. Yet.

“Stay here.” I pry the child’s arms off me, wincing in relief when the sharp press of his nails disappears.

I weave around the narrow bed, tripping when my heel lands on a smoothed stick—the kind children use for street games.

Smoke claws its way down my throat with every breath. I stagger to the window, the boards beneath me groaning, radiating blistering heat.

My hands sting as I slam them against the splintered windowsill. I huff and slide up the grime-covered glass. Fresh air hits my cheeks, and I suck in desperate breaths.

I cup my hands around my mouth and shout through the window, “Help! Please! Someone help us!”

Nothing.