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An almighty roar ripped through the air, shattering the window. Large fragments of glass hurtled. Some hit the opposite wall before falling. Her mind spiralled. Were her parents okay? She fought the urge to claw her way out from her safe position and find out for herself.

Damir wrapped her arm around her waist and held her tight against his side. Although he’d kept a relatively calm demeanour in front of her, even she could see the concern in his darkening eyes.

Thundering bangs rippled. The building trembled, and she feared it might cave in. She dug her nails into the hardwood floor, gripping on for dear life, as the earthquake hit its crescendo at lightning speed.

Her stomach somersaulted, fearing the surface beneath her would disappear.

“Can you use your magic to calm the earthquake?” Damir asked. “Like you did with the storm?”

She shook her head. “No. I’ve never seen anything in my books about quakes. Probably because they don’t happen here. What if this is Veles’ way of getting revenge? I thwarted his plan by killing his emissary.”

“It’s okay.” He rested a reassuring hand on her arm. “We’ll get through this. We always do.”

The tremor halted. The silence was deafening. Her panting breath even lounder. Ears ringing, she glanced at Damir. They listened and waited.

∞∞ ∞

After a tense and uncertain half an hour, her father hurried into the room. He dropped to the ground, dipping his head under the frame.

“Are you both all right? No injuries?” he said.

“No, we’re both fine.” Damir scooted out, then helped Adelina to her feet.

Adelina stared at her father, her mouth opening. “Pa, you’ve cut your head.”

“It’s only a scratch, dear. Nothing to worry about.” He pulled them both into a tight embrace as her mother came skirting around the corner. She, too, embraced them.

“Oh, thank the gods you’re both okay.” She squeezed them tight, and when she withdrew, she gestured to the floor. “Be careful of all this glass.”

Shoving her feet into a pair of shoes, Adelina dashed to the window—the cold night breeze whipping through the broken pane, thrashing her hair out. Damir was at her side in a flash, wrapping a protective arm around her shoulders.

Her hand flew to her mouth. A shriek caught in her throat, and a sickly sensation shot down her spine.

“Dear gods…” he gasped, pulling her even tighter.

Footsteps shuffled behind them as her parents drew closer. Her mother echoed Damir’s gasp.

Adelina stood, frozen to the spot, as she stared out at her broken hometown.

If she thought the damage the fire had caused to her father’s shop was bad, it was no match for the devastation before her.

Entire rows of houses were caved in. Some roofs collapsed inwards completely.

Her heart fell to the floor somewhere amongst the shards of glass.

Her breath was shaky as she finally blew it out against her trembling hands. Screams rang out. Fire blazed. The village was falling—torn apart by a giant crevasse running straight through. From where she stood, it seemed like the crack was bottomless—a dark shadow emanating from its depths.

A high-pitched shriek grabbed her attention, and her instinct to help kicked in.

“We can’t just stand here.” She bolted for the wardrobe, grabbing clothes, throwing them on without a care whether or not her parents saw. “There are people out there—our neighbours, friends—who need us. Damir, your parents. Did anyone think to check on Natasha downstairs?”

Before she gave them the chance to answer, she flew down the staircase, climbing over the fallen furniture, and flinging the bedroom door open.

Dropping to her knees, Adelina peered under. Natasha lay under the bed, trembling. “It’s all right. You can come out now.”

Natasha scooted out, wobbling with fear, as Damir and her parents appeared in the doorway. “Natasha, stay with my parents. I’m going to see who needs help.”

“Wait!” Her pa grabbed her by the wrist as she tried to slide past him. “It’s too dangerous.”

She wrapped her fingers around his hand. “Look at me. I’m strong, remember? I haven’t gone through all I’ve gone through for nothing. I’m sure as hell going to do what I can if it means saving innocent people from dying. ”

Without meaning to use force, she barged past her parents.

Damir was hot on her heels. “I’m coming with you.”

Whirling around, she’d wanted to protest, but the determined look in his eyes kept her from objecting. “Grab my sword.”

With a nod, Damir dashed upstairs, and a few moments later, returned, wielding the Sword of Light.

She strapped it to her waist and was out the front door. Her gaze darted from one wreck to the next. Civilians shoved their way through the cramped streets, screaming names. She couldn’t decipher any of them through the sheer volume.

Shoving into the crowd, she grabbed a hold of the first person. “Are you injured?”

The man shook his head, although his face was covered in mud and dust. “No, but I-I—my daughter.” His eyes were wide and rimmed with tears.

“I didn’t know what to do when the earthquake started.

We were already outside, and I-I thought it would be best to seek cover.

I t-took her inside the tavern and the whole roof collapsed. I got out, b-but I couldn’t find her.”

She touched his shoulder lightly. “It’s okay. We’ll help her. Let’s go.”

The man elbowed his way through the swarming crowd, heading towards the market and the tavern beyond. He came to an abrupt halt, and she almost slammed into the back of him.

Loose stones and clumps of mud disintegrated from the edge, falling into the chasm .

Damir grabbed a hold of the man and yanked him back.

The three of them stared at the crack, too wide to jump across, and too deep to survive a fall. Endless darkness hid the bottom.

“There’s got to be a way around.” As she ran parallel with the chasm, someone came charging out of the crowd, freefalling into the deep void. Their screams were swallowed by the shadows.

A yell ripped through her throat. She muffled it by clamping a hand over her mouth. It was definitely too wide to jump across. “There are too many people out here and the streets aren’t wide enough.”

“You help him find his daughter.” Damir grabbed her arm, pulling her to a stop. “I’ll start filing people out of town. This crack is separating us from the south—only the gods know how long it is—so the only chance they’ve got is to travel to Saintlandsther or Toichrist.”

“Just get everyone out ,” she said. “We’ll find somewhere safe to go.”

“I’ll see you soon.” He pressed an urgent kiss to her forehead, then dashed into the crowd.

Forcing herself not to worry about her family or Damir, she returned her attention to the man. “Come on.”

She slid her way through the stampeding crowd, keeping a conscious distance from the chasm edge.

They came to a halt outside the tavern—once a place bustling with life.

The entire right-hand side of the front door had subsided, stone and glass littering the ground.

The wooden door was splintered, threatening to buckle under the weight of the ceiling held up by internal beams .

Instead of trying to open the door and risk the ceiling caving in on top of her, she rushed to the window ledge.

Peering in through the broken pane, she conjured a ball of light, which floated ahead.

The back end of the building was blocked off by large chunks of stone and fractured beams. Squinting through the dust, she spotted a bed post poking out of the rubble.

Nearby, a chest of drawers and a shattered mirror lay, confirming her suspicions most of the upper floor had buckled from impact.

Climbing through the window, she trod across the floorboards, weaving her way between upside down tables and chairs. Half of the bar was crushed underneath the fallen ceiling..

Shadows filled the room, except for the glow of her magic. And even then, it wasn’t enough to fully light her path. It was as if a black cloud hung over the whole village, thwarting the moonlight.

The man followed her, taking each step slow.

She didn’t even question what exactly had happened to his daughter. If it was her sister trapped inside, there was no way she would’ve left the building without her.

“Yarmilla!” the man called. “Yarmilla! It’s your pa.”

“Pa!” a faint voice whimpered.

Adelina tilted her head in the direction of the sound.

“Keep talking to me, sweetie,” the man encouraged. “We’re going to follow your voice. You’ll be safe.”

“Pa,” Yarmilla cried. “My leg.”

He hurried forwards, but she put up her arm, blocking him. “Slow down. We’ll find her. ”

“She is wounded ,” he said through clenched teeth—his eyes widening.

“I know.” She narrowed her eyes at him. “I’m strong, I’ve fought in battles, and I have magic to aid me. Let me bring your daughter to you. Stay here while I focus on her.”

Reluctantly, the man nodded.

Turning, she edged deeper into the tavern. “Yarmilla, my name is Adelina. I’m going to get you out of here and take you to your pa.”

“Okay,” the little girl said—her voice barely audible.

The ceiling groaned. Adelina flicked her gaze above her head, then back to the man. “Get out of here. The building might collapse any minute.”

“I’m not leaving without my daughter.” He remained rooted to the floor.

She sighed, then increased the speed of her shuffling ever so slightly. “Okay, Yarmilla. Keep talking to me. I’ll follow your voice until I find you, okay?”

“Is m-my p-pa okay?” Yarmilla asked.

Adelina nodded, even though she knew the girl couldn’t see, and followed the sound of her voice. “Yes, he’s fine. Can you tell me how old you are?”

“I-I’m nine,” she said. “My b-birthday was yesterday.”

Swallowing, Adelina’s heart twisted. She was the same age as her sister, Tihana.

“Okay, I think I’m close to you now,” Adelina said, keeping her voice calm and steady. “What’s your favourite colour, Yarmilla?”

“M-my favourite c-colour is yellow,” she answered—her voice more distinct, growing closer. “ Not the b-bright y-yellow—that’s nasty—but t-the w-warm yellow.”

Adelina smiled. “Can you see my light? It’s magic. Look up and find the sunlight.”

“I can see it!” Yarmilla gasped. “Ow, I t-tried to s-sit, up but my l-leg is bleeding.”

“Hold on, sweetie!” her pa called from behind.

Adelina edged through the wrecked furniture, past the caved-in stairwell. Beyond a fallen beam was a small girl—her face covered in dust and blood. A slab of stone lay across her left leg.

Yarmilla’s eyes widened as her gaze landed on the golden embroidery around Adelina’s wrist. “You really do have magic!”

“Yep.” Adelina grinned as she knelt. “This will probably hurt a little, but I’m going to lift this stone off your leg, then use your scarf to stem the blood flow from your wound.”

Her bottom lip quivered, but she nodded.

Placing both hands under the stone, she gripped the edge, ground her teeth, and forced all her strength into lifting the two-inch thick slab. Her spine and muscles screamed in protest, but there was no way she was leaving the girl to die there.

“One…” she sucked in a breath with each number, “two…three!”

Straightening her knees, she groaned, then dumped the stone aside. She wasted no time in peeling the scarf from Yarmilla’s neck and wrapping it around the deep wound in her thigh and knee.

“It hurts.” Fresh tears rolled down her cheeks.

“I know.” Adelina shoved one arm around Yarmilla’s back, and one under her knees, then hoisted her off the floor .

The ceiling groaned again, this time louder.

“We need to hurry.” Adelina thrust the girl into her father’s arms, then hurried towards the windowsill.

She climbed through, then held her arms out for the man to pass her his daughter.

Spinning around, she half staggered away from the tavern, Yarmilla safely stowed in her arms. An almighty rumble ripped through the air as the building collapsed.

“Pa!” Yarmilla screamed.

Adelina threw her gaze over her shoulder, scanning the wreckage for the man. Her breath lodged itself in her lungs. He was gone.