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Chapter 63 - book 2 — chapter 29

THE GROUND CONVULSED beneath my feet after the first explosion. It was the kind of deep, guttural rumble that makes your bones feel weak before your mind even realizes what's happening. The walls groaned, splitting down their seams, and the lamps flickered in one desperate pulse before surrendering to darkness. For a moment, all I could hear were the cries of the children. Then the screaming started.

"Everyone stay together!" Eleanor shouted, clutching one of the younger ones as dust rained from the ceiling. Miss Byrd was beside her, voice trembling but steady enough to sound like control.

"It's just tremors, sweethearts. Just hold hands."

But it wasn't tremors. Tremors don't come with the smell of burning metal.

I felt the vibration through the floorboards as another blast went off, this one farther away—but close enough to rattle every window. The light from the fire outside spilled through the cracks, painting the walls in a haunting red.

Harriet rushed in from the corridor, her face streaked with dirt. "What's happening?!"

"I don't know!" I shouted back, grabbing one of the kids who nearly tripped over a fallen beam. "The lights are out everyw—"

Then, like a cruel echo, I remembered Morgan's drawing.

The house. The fire swallowing everything.

The black figures.

My stomach dropped.

No.

I turned sharply toward the hallway. "Morgan," I whispered. Then louder, "Where's Morgan?"

Harriet blinked, still catching her breath. "I thought he was with Lucy?"

"He's not!" I cut her off, heart hammering in my chest. I didn't wait for her to finish. I just ran.

The corridors were darker than I'd ever seen them, the emergency lanterns barely casting enough light to guide my way. Every few seconds, another tremor rippled through the ground. Books fell from shelves, portraits crashed from the walls, and the scent of smoke thickened the air. The smoke clawed at my throat as I stumbled through the fractured hallways, every step slick with ash and shattered glass. The home I'd known was reduced to embers and screams. I could barely hear my own breath over the chaos, but one name pulsed in my mind, louder than anything else.

Morgan.

He was nowhere.

I pushed through a half-collapsed doorway, shielding my eyes from the sparks falling like burning snow. "Morgan!" I yelled, my voice cracking. "Morgan, where are you?"

No answer.

The silence between explosions was somehow worse. Each second without a reply felt like a weight pressing harder against my chest. I turned another corner—nothing but smoke and wreckage. My legs were trembling, my heart slamming against my ribs. 

Please, not him too.

"Morgan!" I screamed again.

And then—a bark.

Hunter?

Through the haze, the faint outline of Riven's dog emerged with his eyes fixed on me. His coat was dusted in soot, and his fur stood up as if he sensed something I couldn't.

"Hunter, where—"

Before I could finish, he barked again, louder this time, and bolted down the corridor.

"Wait!" I coughed, stumbling after him.

The hallways blurred together with the heat, the red glow from the fires outside, and the air thick and unbreathable. My lungs screamed for air, but I kept following, the sound of Hunter's paws hitting the floor the only thing keeping me moving. He led me past the old study, where the bookshelves had collapsed into heaps of charred paper, past the nursery door where Lucy's shawl still hung from a broken hinge.

And then he stopped.

Right at the edge of what used to be the east wing—now half-buried in debris. Hunter growled low, his body stiff, and his tail tucked.

"What is it, boy?"

The dog turned his head toward me and whimpered once before lowering his snout toward the pile of rubble. I stepped closer, pushing aside the fragments of wood and plaster with trembling hands. My fingertips were raw from the heat, my nails caked with soot. Then I heard a sound, so faint I almost missed it.

Someone's whimper.

I clawed at the debris, ignoring the sting in my hands. "Hold on, Morgan. Please. I'm here."

Hunter pawed beside me, whining, his nose nudging at a broken beam. I pushed with all the strength I had left, gritting my teeth until it finally shifted enough for a sliver of light to slip through.

"Morgan!" My voice broke as I turned the corner, nearly slipping on the scattered glass. "Morgan, where are you?"

The only reply was the distant wail of a frightened child, and my own heartbeat pounding in my ears. Huddled beneath a table, arms wrapped tight around his knees, eyes wide and glassy. The sight of him nearly knocked the breath out of me.

I dropped to my knees. "Hey… hey, it's me," I said, trying to steady my voice even though my throat was tight. "You're okay. You're okay, Morgan."

He didn't move until I reached under the table and gently touched his shoulder. Then he looked up, trembling so hard his little teeth chattered.

"I—It's happening," he whispered.

I froze. "It'll all be okay."

"The fire… the drawing." His voice cracked, and he buried his face in his hands. "It's the same. It's all the same."

I pulled him out from under the bed and held him close, ignoring the pain in my knees as the ground shook again. His small body shook against mine, and all I could do was press my hand to the back of his head and whisper, "It's going to be okay."

Even though I wasn't sure I believed it.

Then, a shadow swept across the broken window. I looked up just as Sebastian landed hard on the sill, his feathers slicked with ash. He morphed before my eyes—his owl form stretching, feathers peeling back until his humanoid figure stood there, panting, with his chest heaving. His talons still scraped the floor when he stepped inside.

"They're here," he rasped. His voice was raw, like he'd been shouting for hours. "The Others have breached the perimeter, Miss Alice. They've completely surrounded us."

I swallowed hard. "How many?"

Sebastian's eyes flicked toward the window, reflecting the orange glow of the fires outside. "Too many. A dozen—maybe more. Ryan's fighting them off near the main gate. He told me to warn you."

My heart nearly stopped. "The Headmaster's out there? Alone?"

Sebastian shook his head, feathers ruffling. "Crowe's with him. But it won't be enough."

For a second, I couldn't breathe. Morgan clung to me tighter, and all I could think about was the way Ryan had looked earlier that day, as if he knew this was coming.

Maybe he did.

I stood up, clutching Morgan's hand. "Harriet and Dwight—"

"They're helping Eleanor and Miss Byrd get the kids to the cellar," Sebastian said quickly. "But it's chaos out there. The Others are moving faster than before."

Of course they were. The transmitter. The signal. Ryan had been right—someone had tracked it before it was destroyed. But how did they manage to track and put the transmitter in the first place?

Regardless, everything just feels too late.

Another explosion tore through the distance, closer this time. The floor shook so violently that I had to grab onto the wall to steady myself. I looked out the cracked window and saw smoke curling above the trees, fire licking at the horizon.

Sebastian's voice was sharp now. "Miss Alice, you need to move. Take the boy. Get to the cellar."

My head was spinning. "What about you?"

"I'll hold them back for as long as I can." He turned toward the window, wings unfurling again. "Go. Now!"

"I can't leave you!"

"I owe you my life when you saved me from the Others that day. Don't worry, Miss Alice. I will be okay."

I wanted to argue, to tell him not to be stupid—but the look in his eyes stopped me. It was the same look Ryan wore whenever he made a decision he couldn't undo.

I tightened my grip on Morgan's hand. "Come on."

We ran.

The hallway seemed to stretch endlessly as each corner filled with smoke and the distant sound of gunfire. The heat was suffocating. Somewhere behind us, glass shattered again, and I heard Sebastian's screech echo through the dark.

"Move, Miss Alice!" he yelled from somewhere above, voice distant but fierce. "Don't stop!"

I didn't.

We reached the staircase just as Harriet came running up from below, coughing hard. Her face was streaked with soot.

"Where were you?" she shouted.

"I found Morgan!" I gasped. "Where's everyone else?"

"Downstairs. But the cellar's almost full! Eleanor's with the baby, Dwight's helping Crowe—"

Before she could finish, a flash of light burst through one of the windows, blinding white followed by the crash of another explosion. The shockwave knocked us off balance. Harriet hit the wall hard, and I fell forward, shielding Morgan with the best of my ability.

When the ringing in my ears subsided, all I could hear was the faint crackle of fire. I turned toward the window and saw the sky outside glowing red. It wasn't just the woods that were burning anymore The fields. The fences. The very ground we'd trained on.

"Morgan, stay with Harriet," I said quickly, pulling myself up.

"What are you doing?" Harriet's voice trembled.

"I need to find Riven."

"You can't!" she grabbed my wrist, but I pulled free. "Alice, listen to me—"

"I have to!"

I didn't wait for her reply. I bolted through the corridor, my shoes crunching on shattered glass, my heart hammering in my throat. Every breath tasted like ash. When I reached the foyer, the front door was half torn from its hinges. And there, through the haze, I saw Riven. He was helping Dr. Crowe drag one of the injured gifted toward the stairs, his shirt torn and streaked with blood that I prayed wasn't his. Hunter was beside them, barking furiously, teeth bared toward the flames.

When he saw me, his eyes widened. "Whit!"

I ran to him, coughing through the smoke. "You're bleeding—"

"Don't worry." He turned to Crowe. "Go! Get him downstairs!"

Crowe nodded, disappearing into the stairwell with the boy.

Riven grabbed my shoulders. "You shouldn't be here."

"Neither should you," I snapped, my voice shaking. "Ryan needs everyone—"

"Ryan's holding them off at the north gate," he said, eyes dark. "He told me to get everyone out."

The mention of Ryan sent a chill down my spine. "You saw him?"

"Yeah," Riven said. "He—"

A blast cut him off. The wall behind him exploded, showering us in debris. The force knocked us both to the ground. My head hit something hard, and the world spun, colors smearing together. Through the ringing, I heard Hunter's barking, distant and panicked.

"Alice—"

Riven's voice broke through the haze. His hand found mine, warm and trembling. "Stay with me."

I tried to focus on his face, but my vision blurred. Everything sounded far away. Then, above the roaring flames, a voice echoed—cold, mechanical, wrong.

"Retrieve the targets. The Headmaster is to be captured alive."

My blood froze.

Riven's expression hardened. "They're inside."

He pulled me to my feet, his arm around my waist. "We have to move."

We stumbled toward the corridor leading to the cellar. The screams below told me some of the Others had already reached the lower levels. Every instinct screamed at me to run, but my body felt heavy, like my limbs no longer belonged to me.

"Riven," I gasped, "they're everywhere—"

"I know." His grip tightened. "But we're not stopping."

We turned a corner just as a figure in black emerged from the smoke. Its face—expressionless, inhuman—tilted toward us. It raised its weapon.

Riven shoved me aside and fired first.

The shot echoed down the hall, followed by the dull thud of the man collapsing. But there were more footsteps. The only logical thing to do at that point was to run. The floor shook again and the beams cracking overhead. The house that had once been filled with life now sounded like a battlefield.

'This can't be real,' I thought. 'This can't be happening.'

But it was.

When we reached the cellar door, Harriet was already there, waving frantically. "Come on! Hurry!"

Riven pushed me forward. "Go!"

"What about you?"

He didn't answer.

"Riven!"

"Just go, Whit!"

And before I could protest, he turned his back and hid underneath a table.

The last thing I saw was the glow of the fire reflecting in his eyes—and the sound of Hunter's furious barking as the world above erupted in another explosion. Then—

Darkness.

The blast that followed was deafening like a sound that didn't just pierce the air, but split it open. The entire home lurched under the force. I felt it down to my teeth. The floorboards groaned, walls splintered with sharp, cracking sounds, and something heavy crashed behind me. Screams erupted everywhere—high, terrified, human.

Then the smoke hit. It poured in like a tide, curling around the furniture and crawling up the walls. The lights were gone for good this time; only the glow of the flames from outside gave shape to the chaos.

"The targets are inside."

That was all it took. Panic detonated.

"Get everyone downstairs!" Miss Byrd shouted, trying to guide the younger gifted, but her voice was barely audible over the roar of fire and terrified cries.

Without thinking, Riven was already moving. He grabbed his gun from the corner table, cocked it with a swift motion that was almost second nature, and ran toward the front hall.

"Riven—wait!" I called out. But he didn't listen.

He moved like instinct, sliding past falling debris, ducking beneath the shattering beams of light that came from the Others' weapons. He wasn't like me nor anyone else who have gifts, but in that moment, you wouldn't have known it. He covered blind spots, fired with precision, and shouted warnings to the others. His voice cut through the chaos with a kind of command that made people listen.

"Left side—move! They're breaching from the east!"

I followed, as my hands glowed faintly. Every pulse of fear made the light brighter until the hallway shimmered with faint teal. The first bullet-like blast hit the wall beside me, sending splinters flying. My instinct flared—I threw up a my hands. The energy rippled like glass and shattered again under a second hit.

I stumbled back, chest burning, and Riven's hand shot out to steady me. "You good?"

I nodded breathlessly. "Yeah."

When we reached the lower corridor, Dwight and Harriet were already there with Hunter and Sebastian—who had landed hard from the broken window.

"Front's breached, everyone," Riven barked. "They're inside."

My voice came out steadier than I felt. "Dwight, Harriet—go to Miss Byrd. Help her get everyone out. Take Morgan."

Harriet opened her mouth to argue, but I cut her off. "Now!"

For once, Harriet didn't fight back. Her face was pale, but there was a strange steadiness in her eyes. "Come on," she said to Dwight. "Let's move."

They turned toward the stairs. Harriet couldn't use her powers anymore, but she didn't falter. She guided the youngest children through the smoke. Morgan saw her assisting the rest of the residents as he got out of the cellar to help them. He held Harriet's hand and stayed beside her, as his small face streaked with tears and his other hand clutched the little wooden pencil he always carried as if it could somehow keep him safe.

"Harriet," Dwight said over the noise, "watch your step—"

"I've got them," she said back. "Just go!"

And he did. She kept them moving, step by step, even as the house cracked around them.

A sharp, echoing sound tore through the night after everyone was tucked inside the cellar. A blast rang through the night. But it wasn't an explosion. It sounded like a massive force of energy. The kind only Ryan could make.

Riven and I exchanged one look before sprinting toward the noise. Sebastian followed close behind. Hunter bounded beside us, growling low. The hallway opened into what used to be the front foyer. Now it looked like a war zone. The ground had split open, and the marble floor jagged and uneven. The air was thick with ash and the strange metallic stench of burnt metal and ozone.

And in the center was Ryan. He stood alone, surrounded by flames and enemies—five, maybe six of the Others, their black suits gleaming, their faces empty, and their eyes reflecting nothing but cold obedience.

I froze. Even in the chaos, even through the smoke, there was something terrifyingly still about him. Ryan raised one hand, and the earth itself responded. The ground buckled, cracked, and then erupted in a wall of stone that sent two Others flying back. The sound was thunderous. For a heartbeat, I forgot to breathe. I'd seen him train us. I'd seen him heal, protect, command. But never like this. Ryan wasn't just strong. He was immense. He moved with an authority that looked almost divine, and the floor beneath the Others shattered, swallowing one whole. Another strike of his palm, and the air crackled with energy, slamming another into the wall. He was the embodiment of everything we'd ever hoped to be, and everything that terrified us about our own gifts.

"Headmaster!" I shouted.

He looked up, briefly, sweat cutting lines through the soot on his face. "Alice—get everyone out!"

"We can help!" I yelled back, but before I could move, Riven grabbed my arm.

"Alice—"

Riven stopped mid-sentence. His face changed. The Others were regrouping right in front of us. Three more appeared from the smoke, moving in perfect sync with their heads tilting in eerie unison. One raised a hand—and before Ryan could react, the air shimmered around him, trapping him in place.

It was telekinesis—but stronger. Denser. Like invisible chains wrapping around him.

"Ryan!"

He gritted his teeth, trying to resist, with the veins in his neck standing out. The floor trembled beneath him as he fought the force. Then another Other stepped forward, holding a syringe filled with the same dull silver liquid like the one Harriet had been injected with.

"No!" I screamed, starting forward.

Riven yanked me back just as the needle drove into Ryan's neck. The sound he made wasn't a scream—it was a strangled gasp, a noise of sheer disbelief. His knees hit the ground, the glow in his hands flickering, fading.

"Ryan!"

"Alice!" Riven shouted, pulling me back harder as another group of Others began closing in from the sides. "Alice, we need to retreat!"

There were too many. Their footsteps echoed in unison, metal glinting under the faint light. Each face the same—emotionless, hollow.

I felt my power crackle uselessly at my fingertips. "We have to—"

"We can't," Riven hissed. "They'll take you too."

I shook my head violently. "I can't leave h—"

Riven's voice broke through the chaos, low but urgent. "Alice, look at me."

I did.

His eyes anchored me. "If you die here, this place dies with you. And I don't want that to happen. Ever."

And then another explosion ripped through the ground. Debris rained down like hail. Riven threw his body over mine, shielding me as fire burst through the shattered walls. When I looked again, the Others were dragging Ryan's limp body across the fractured earth.

I saw how Ryan caused the ground to rise beneath him. How he used every bits of his energy to ward off the enemies. But they overwhelmed him. And I just stood there with my lungs locked. My mind screamed 'move, Alice, move,' but my body refused.

Because somewhere deep inside, I'd felt this before.

I was back there again, on that home where smoke painted the sky and the air burned with fire. My father's hand slipping from mine as the Others stormed through the ruins of our home. My mind told me to run. And I did. I ran until my legs gave out. Until the world stopped making sense. That same feeling crashed through me now. That same helpless, suffocating terror.

"No!" I shouted, my voice breaking as I stumbled forward. 

"Don't—"

"They're taking him!"

Riven's jaw clenched, his voice breaking for the first time. "We need to go!"

But I couldn't stop watching. Couldn't stop hearing the scrape of Ryan's body against the floor as they pulled him toward the flames. It was like leaving my father when the Others attacked my parents. I felt so hopeless. So useless. So weak. The man who built this home, who gave us safety, who gave us hope... Just like that… And I couldn't save him.

Sebastian landed beside us, his feathers scorched. "There are more coming!" he shouted.

But the word retreat felt meaningless. The Others had already taken what they came for. I stared after them until the firelight blurred through my tears. And all that was left was the hollow sound of the collapsing walls, the cries of frightened children, and the quiet, growing certainty in my chest that nothing—nothing—would ever be the same again.

The back corridors were chaos incarnate. I could barely see through the haze, my throat raw from the smoke. My heart still hadn't caught up with what had happened to Ryan. I wanted to scream for him, to collapse and demand that this all stop—but there wasn't time. Before I could even move…

"Cornelius! Augustus!"

That voice. I ran to where the sound came from.

"My boys—where are my boys?"

I turned toward the sound just in time to see her reaching out into the smoke. When I rounded the corner, I saw her face streaked with ash, one hand pressed to the wall to keep steady, the other reaching blindly ahead.

"Lucy!" I sprinted, half-blind, my shield flickering to life like a dying flame. "Lucy!"

"Lucy!" I shouted, forcing my way through the smoke.

Her head snapped toward me, her eyes wide and wild. "I can't find them! I can't find my boys!"

Riven appeared beside me, gun still in hand. Behind him, Hunter barked sharply, sniffing the air.

"They were in the study before the explosion, Alice," Lucy cried. "I told them to stay put—oh God, Alice, I can't—"

"Lucy," I said, gripping her shoulders firmly, forcing her to meet my eyes. "We'll find them. I promise. You and Riven, start looking near the study. Hunter—"

Before I could even finish, Hunter had already darted ahead, nose to the floor, growling low as if he'd caught a trail.

"Follow him," Riven ordered, and we did, stumbling through the haze, our shoes crunching over shards of glass and burnt wood. When Hunter reached the end of the hall, he barked frantically, nudging at a half-collapsed doorway. I dropped to my knees and shoved away the debris with trembling hands. Beneath the soot-covered table leg, a small shape stirred.

"Cornelius!" Lucy gasped, falling to her knees beside me.

The boy blinked up at her, his face pale, eyes rimmed red from smoke. "Mama?"

Lucy pulled him into her arms, sobbing with relief. "Oh, thank God. Thank God."

Riven crouched beside them, scanning the hallway. "We need to move. The structure's unstable."

But Lucy didn't seem to hear him. She pressed her cheek to Cornelius's hair, whispering his name over and over.

Then her voice cracked again. "Where's your brother?"

Cornelius blinked, disoriented. "I—I don't know. He was with me, then he said he heard a noise… and he went to check."

Lucy's face went white. "He's still out there?"

Before she could rise, I caught her arm. "Lucy, listen to me. You have to take Cornelius and go to the cellar with the others. It's the safest place."

"No," she said immediately, shaking her head. "I can't leave him. Not my son."

"Lucy," I said softly but firmly, "you have to trust me. I'll find Augustus. I promise."

Her lip trembled, her eyes darting from me to the hall behind me where the fire was spreading. "You don't understand—he's only a child. He's terrified of the dark."

"I know," I said. "But I swear to you, I won't stop until I bring him back. You need to protect Cornelius right now. He needs you alive."

Riven stepped closer. "She's right. We'll find him. But if this part of the house collapses, you won't be able to help either of them."

For a moment, Lucy just stood there, caught between fear and faith. Then, with a trembling breath, she nodded. "Please," she whispered. "Bring him back to me."

"I will," I said, meeting her eyes. "Go."

Another explosion shook the ground beneath us, sending dust and debris raining from the ceiling. Hunter barked frantically again, herding Lucy and Cornelius toward the cellar. I waited just long enough to see them disappear down the corridor before I turned back to Riven.

"We have to hurry."

He gave a short nod, reloading his weapon as we pushed deeper into the smoke-filled wing. Every sound—every groan of the collapsing beams—made my heart race faster.

"Augustus!" I shouted, my voice hoarse. "It's Alice! Where are you?"

Nothing. Only the crackle of fire and the sound of the roof groaning above us. Panic was setting in, the kind that makes your chest feel like it's collapsing.

Please, let him be alive.

I didn't care that my throat burned or that my hands were bleeding from clawing through debris. I just kept moving, kept shouting his name until my voice broke. And then, faintly, through the chaos—

I froze. "Did you hear that?"

Riven's head snapped up. "Where?"

I pointed toward a pile of collapsed beams near the old dining room. "There!"

Slinging his gun over his shoulder, he crouched and began lifting the debris piece by piece. The smoke was thicker here, the heat almost unbearable. My vision blurred from it, but I could still see Riven's hands moving.

"There's someone under here," he grunted, teeth clenched as he heaved a heavy plank aside.

I dropped to my knees beside him, digging through the soot and ashes with bare hands until I saw a glimpse of pale fabric.

"Riven—there!" I gasped.

Together, we shifted the last beam, and there he was, curled up in the corner, his small body trembling, eyes wide with fear.

"Augustus!" I cried, scooping him into my arms.

He clung to me instantly, his little hands gripping my shirt so tight it hurt. "Miss Alice," he whimpered. "I was scared… I couldn't find Mama."

"It's okay," I whispered, my voice shaking. "You're safe now. She's safe too."

Riven knelt beside us, his voice rough but gentle. "We need to move. The ceiling's ready to give."

I nodded, still holding Augustus close as we scrambled to our feet.

The boy's tears soaked through my shoulder, his breathing ragged. "Is Mama okay?"

"She's waiting for you," I said, forcing a smile through the sting in my chest. "We're going to her now."

As we ran back through the burning corridor, the world roared around us—flames snapping, beams collapsing, the air thick with smoke and fear. But all I could focus on was the small heartbeat against my chest, steady but fragile. For one terrifying moment, a part of the ceiling caved in just ahead of us, blocking our path. Riven pushed me back, coughing hard as the smoke thickened.

"This way!" he shouted, pulling me toward the window at the far end.

He kicked it open with one powerful shove, shards of glass scattering into the night.

"Go!" Riven said, motioning for me to climb through first. I hesitated only a second before slipping through, holding Augustus tightly to my chest.

As we passed through, I noticed that the hallway was almost unrecognizable now. Wha used to be golden light and warm walls had turned into a jagged maze of smoke and fire. The floor trembled beneath our feet, timbers splitting and groaning under the strain. Every step sent up clouds of dust that burned in my lungs.

"We're almost there," I said, though my own voice shook. "Just a few more steps and we'll see your mother."

Riven nodded beside me, his shirt streaked with soot. "Keep your head down, Whit," he murmured, gun raised as he glanced over his shoulder. Hunter padded behind him, tail low, ears pricked, and his growl lost under the crackle of burning wood.

We turned a corner, the air tempering with heat and the scent of scorched earth. Somewhere beyond the ruined hallway, I thought I could hear Miss Byrd shouting orders. We were close—the cellar couldn't be far. Then, for just a heartbeat, the world went still. The sound of the flames dulled, the air seemed to suck inward, and every instinct in my body screamed.

"Riven—"

A shockwave caused by the last explosion tore through the hall, bending wood, shattering glass, and ripping curtains from their rods. The force hit like a giant's fist, hurling debris and sound in all directions. Dust and flame danced together, twisting into a single roaring storm that erased all color but red and gold.

It was deafening. The force slammed into us like a wave, blinding white heat and pressure tearing through the hall. I felt my body lift, weightless for a split second before the impact hurled me backward. My head cracked against something hard—wood, stone, I couldn't tell—and a sharp ringing filled my ears. I didn't know where Riven went, or if I'd dropped Augustus. I couldn't even tell up from down. Everything was smoke and fire and pain.

Then, faintly—crying. I forced my body to move, crawling through the debris. My arm ached, my vision spun, but I could still see flashes of orange through the haze. My heart seized when I saw a small hand reaching from beneath a broken beam.

"Augustus!"

The sound that came out of me was barely a voice, but I crawled toward him, every inch dragging like a lifetime. I reached the beam, braced my palms against it, and pushed. It didn't budge. My strength was gone—my energy spent.

"Riven!" I screamed, but only the crackle of fire answered.

My vision blurred again; the smoke clawed at my throat. The air burned. Augustus's hand was slipping away, his cries weaker now.

No.

I slammed my palms against the ground, feeling the faint hum of my power deep inside me—a spark flickering in a dying flame. I could barely summon it anymore. Everything I'd used tonight had drained me dry. I closed my eyes and reached for it, even as my muscles trembled and my lungs screamed for air. I thought of Augustus, of Lucy, of the others hiding below. Of Ryan, somewhere out there. Of Riven, and the way he'd said my name as if it meant something more.

My hands began to glow faintly, light pushing through the blood and ash coating my skin. The ground trembled. The air pulsed.

"Come on…" I whispered. "Just once more. Please."

A sound ripped from my throat, and then the light burst outward, flooding the hall. The wave of force sent the debris flying, shielding what little space remained from the collapsing roof. Through the light, I saw Augustus again—covered in dust, eyes wide, but alive. He was safe.

The power drained from me instantly after that. My body felt heavy, the world spinning as the edges of my vision dimmed.

"Alice!"

Riven's voice cut through the haze, rough, terrified. His hands were on me a second later, pulling me up, shaking me. I could barely make out his face through the smoke—just the outline of him, bloodied and desperate.

"I've got you," he said, voice breaking. "I've got you, Whit—come on, stay with me."

I tried to speak, but the words didn't come. My throat burned too much. My arms were trembling too hard.

"Riven…" I managed, barely a whisper. "Augustus…"

"He's okay," Riven said, pressing his forehead against mine for a moment, his breath uneven. "You saved him."

I wanted to tell him I wasn't sure I could save anyone anymore—that I could feel the ground shifting beneath us again, that another explosion might come. But instead…

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