He stares out the window, witnessing the destruction, our foundations shaking so hard we cling to the glass before us. The room tips as the chandelier overhead tinkles with crystals knocking together. I jump when a pitcher falls off the nightstand and smashes against the floor, along with a tray full of glasses sitting on the table.

Nadir looks around us. “We should run for cover,” he says.

“Where do we go?” I ask.

Nadir grabs my hand. “Under the bed.”

We huddle underneath, and Nadir wraps his arms around my waist, pressing me against his strong chest as we wait for the rumbling to subside.

After what feels like forever, it finally stops. My ears ring with the weight of the silence.

What caused this? My first thought was Zerra, but does she have this kind of power? My mother said that interacting with the surface drains her for a while, so has she recovered from her earlier attack?

But this feels bigger than only her, and I’m sure this is another manifestation of the world crumbling beneath us. It is Zerra, not because she’s causing it but because she continues to grow weaker and weaker. Whatever it is, we’re running out of time on every side.

We ease out from under the bed and walk back to the window. I cover my mouth and gasp at the sight in the distance. A large chunk of the city has fallen prey to the earthquake, and dozens of buildings have toppled and been crushed beneath the weight of stone.

I shudder to think how many bodies are buried and how many lives were just lost.

“Let’s get dressed,” Nadir says. “We have to look for survivors.”

Just as we are about to turn away, a loud crack draws our attention back to the window because this isn’t over yet. The land splits apart like it’s been shattered through its heart, a large crevice spreading wide. In a sluggish puff of smoke and shadows, dozens of buildings disappear with a roar.

I step back, my hand pressed to my chest, unable to believe what I’m watching. It takes only a few seconds, but it feels like hours before the dust settles again.

“No,” I say, my voice a whisper. The chances of anyone surviving that are nothing.

“Let’s go,” Nadir says, crossing the room and finding a shirt and pants before tugging them on. I blink away the threat of tears and follow him, donning a pair of leggings and a tunic.

We fling open the door to find the palace has become a sight of chaos. The panicking servants must have friends and family living below. They’re running back and forth, shouting orders and crying, many apparently at a loss for what to do.