Shyla was lying on her side. Rolling over to her back with another groan, she moved each body part from her toes up to her head. None of her bones were broken. A miracle. She explored with her fingers and found bleeding cuts, including a gash on the side of her head. Each discovery caused more pain.

There was a ribbon of dim light shining through a crack above her on the left. As her vision adjusted to the semi-darkness, Shyla realized she was surrounded by large chunks of debris. Another miracle that she hadn’t been crushed. Although, if she was trapped, she would have exchanged a quick death for a slower one. Could she hope for a third miracle?

She focused on the crack. That was probably the best direction for freedom. But what if she pushed on that hunk of rock and it caused the rest to collapse on her? Another unwelcome thought—that the entire area around her could settle further at any time—occurred to her. The mound of debris creaked and groaned as if in warning. She needed to move. Now.

Shyla reached and grabbed the edge of the triangle-shaped piece of sandstone. Pushing it slowly, she slid it to the side, but was ready to stop if anything started to avalanche. The muscles in her arms ached as she increased the pressure. The crack widened bit by bit. She halted when the sound of tumbling rocks reached her.

When nothing else happened, she continued. Eventually, she supported the stone’s weight as it cleared the surrounding debris. Nothing else fell to cover that space. Not yet. By the time she pushed it all the way to the side, her tunic was soaked with sweat and a horrible headache throbbed.

Carefully, she sat up and peeked out. She was at the top of a large pile of rubble. Thank the Sun Goddess. It appeared as if parts of level ninety-seven had collapsed down into level ninety-eight where the black cells and special rooms were located.

Scanning the destruction, she spotted a number of trol lanterns that had survived, bits of broken furniture, shattered pieces of colorful tiles, twisted and mangled pipes spraying water, and—

A body.

It felt as if the entire city of Zirdai had just collapsed on top of her. She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move, couldn’t think as she stared at the unmoving and broken form. And from her jumbled thoughts, Gurice’s words sounded crystal clear: Everyone’s here…we have recovering prisoners, Invisible Swords, and all the guards. And Rendor, Hanif, Kaveri, Gurice, Mojag, and Ximen. They were all dead!

A harsh cry escaped her lips and she dropped back into her hole. Curling into a tight ball of misery, she shook as the enormity of what had happened rolled through her. Shyla’s thoughts stuck on how could she? how could she? how could she? how could she?