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“Killian, the water!” I cried into the entrance. Thankfully, he exited the building a second later.
His face was covered in soot, and he fell to the ground. The hacking cough coming from him made it so he could barely catch his breath.
“Drink this, please.” I scooped the water with my bare hands, and he leaned forward, consuming as much as he could.
“Mama!” the child cried out.
I left Killian to drink a bit more and frantically searched our surroundings. I needed a ladder, a cart—something that would get me close enough to the window so the boy could jump.
But there was nothing.
I ran beneath the ledge of the window. “Are you able to climb out?” I shouted up at his now-soot-stained face.
The boy rested his head against the wall.
“No, it’s okay!” I called to him. “You’re all right.” I directed my attention to his mother for a brief moment. “What’s his name?”
“Marius,” the woman sobbed. She was much older than I would assume for a mother—at least his mother. Perhaps a grandmother, and she moved with a limp as she struggled to hold onto the younger child in her arms.
“Marius.” I hurried toward the window. “I know you’re scared, but I will catch you.”
“Ainsley.” Killian’s voice sounded behind me. “That’s a far jump, and one or both of you will be injured.”
“It’s better than being dead,” I snapped. “Come on, Marius, on the count of three, all right?”
Killian shifted next to me as though he were preparing to catch me when I caught the boy.
Marius fell toward the window and slung his leg over the edge. Instead of standing to jump, he coughed, and shrieked as his body went limp, and he collapsed over the sill.
His guardian’s bloodcurdling scream behind me spurred me on as I ran to the wall of the home. He was falling too quickly, and I had no way to properly catch him.
“Please let this work,” I whispered under my breath.
Marius slammed into me, and I toppled backward, nearly twisting my ankle and falling into Killian. “I’ve got you both,” he grunted as he prevented Marius and me from slamming onto the ground.
We were rushed by the boy’s family as he was removed from my arms. Righting myself, I picked up the pail of water and set it beside the elderly woman. “Ensure he drinks, and please, move away from the smoke.”
“Bless you, bless you!” she cried, kissing both of my cheeks before shifting back to Marius.
“Let’s keep moving,” Killian murmured as I lingered and observed the reunion.
As we pressed farther into the heart of the city, I realized if we stopped to assist everyone in need, we would never accomplish anything else the remainder of the day. And ultimately, I was here for a reason. Hattie's magic had brought me to this place—there must be something we needed? Something I was missing.
Where businesses, taverns, and shops had mainly been on one side of the street, the farther we walked down the cobblestone path, buildings now appeared on either side, as Killian and I moved through the crowds. It wasn’t until we neared the center of the city that I could see why. Everything surrounded a circular building in the middle.
It resembled the Hall of Knowledge. Only the fire was burning far angrier here it would seem. The roof would be destroyed entirely if something wasn’t done—and soon. As I surveyed the damage, a beam fell from a tower off the center and down the side of the building, splintering and trickling fire in its wake.
A tug in my gut startled me, and I paused. It seemed as though it were a reassurance of some sort as I thought of the building itself. Gently, I touched the arm of a boy attempting to run past me—only then snapping back to the unquestionable reality that we were, indeed, in the middle of a catastrophe. Yet, I was trying to question someone about an indiscriminate structure.
“What’s that?” I inquired, peering down at him, despite the terrified look in the boy’s eyes.
“Hall of Records.” He frowned, attempting to move, but I stood in front of him.
“It’s practically destroyed. Was there no one to help with the flames?”
The boy yanked his arm away from me and scoffed. “Look, lady, we’re all a bit busy saving our own families. No one cares about the stupid Hall of Records. Except maybe crazy Jo.”
He shook his head and snarled as he took a few steps away from me, before pivoting to flee in a frantic stride. His blond hair was disheveled, his face soot-stained, and his clothes had been ruined from what appeared to be bits of ember.
