“Geral!” Smoke suffocated my voice as I reached her, but her face twisted with confusion. “I’m here to help.”
Her eyes focused as I pressed the mostly dry handkerchief over her nose and mouth. It took some maneuvering and shifting her weight, but finally I got her arm around my shoulders and used every muscle in my legs and back to haul her up. By my ear, her breath came shallow and weak from inhaling smoke.
We turned toward the direction I thought I’d come, but the room had changed. Beams had fallen, burning brightly. Blackening rubble blocked our path. And where was Sam?
I coughed at the smoke singeing my lungs, and shielded my face with my free arm like Sam had. It didn’t help.
“This way.” Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to talk, but it helped me focus through the dizzying heat, and she relaxed—only slightly.
Windows and doors were in the same place on every house, and there was some kind of opening on every wall. Any direction was better than standing still. I guided Geral, both of us coughing. Only the fact that the upper level had collapsed on the other side of the house saved us from suffering worse; the smoke had somewhere to go.
I hoped Sam wasn’t over there.
Our journey to the wall was unbearably hot. My eyes watered, and Geral was too heavy for me to carry, but that wouldn’t stop me. We stumbled again and again.
I reminded myself—maybe out loud—that I’d endured worse, with my hands inside a sylph. But this was everywhere, and I wasn’t alone. Geral counted on me to get her to safety.
The world swam with blackness. I staggered, Geral heavy on my shoulders, but as my knees hit the ground, a cool mist bathed my face.
Someone lifted Geral away from me.
I tried to watch where they took her, but I was blind now that I’d left the too-bright house. No matter how much I blinked, my vision wouldn’t work right after peering through smoke and heat. Maybe my eyes had boiled out.
Cold pressed against my face, then air. Fresh air. I inhaled as deeply as my lungs would allow, like I’d never get another clean breath again.
Strong arms encircled me, picked me up, and I was carried away from the heat and roaring fire. My skin cooled when I sat on the ground, and at last my vision fizzled toward normal. A youthful face floated before me.
“Sam?” Was that my voice sounding so wispy? I sucked on air from the mask again. Coughed. Breathed.
Sandy hair and sharp features. Cris shook his head and smiled. “Wrong admirer. Sam is over there with Stef. He got Orrin out.”
Orrin had been here? My head pounded, and I tried to focus. Sam was okay. Cris had given me air. I was sitting on the hard, cold ground.
“I thought you’d be across the city by now.” My voice sounded like a toad. That wasn’t much of an improvement.
“I stayed to visit with Orrin and Geral. A little after I left, I heard the explosion.” He gazed around the ruins. “Good thing you and Sam got here so quickly.”
“Will she be okay?” I couldn’t find her in the mass of people around the house. They aimed hoses at the building, spraying the same mist I’d stumbled into.
His tone was gentle, and so was the way he wiped a cloth over my face; it came away soot-black. “I don’t know.”
I appreciated his honesty.
The fire died, leaving only electric emergency lamps to light the ruins. Smoke still rose like giant sylph as people shouted orders, darted around. Their silhouettes were strange and long in the illumination, but I saw Councilors Deborl and Sine speaking. Arguing? I couldn’t tell from where I stood.
When I lowered the mask—I’d forgotten I still held it to my face—I caught a familiar shape across the yard, sitting near a tangle of fallen and blackened pine trees. Sam.
Stef crouched over him, hands on his shoulders. I couldn’t hear their conversation, but Stef glanced my way, darkness obscuring her expression.
She was in love with him. Cris probably was too. I could only think of maybe six people who wouldn’t be.
Gravity dragged at me, but Cris caught my elbows and kept me from slumping over. The mask wasn’t so lucky. It bounced when it hit the dirt.
The reek of smoke permeated the air, but everything seemed so quiet now that the fire was out. The roaring, blaring, consuming fire. All around, people were still gathered in groups, talking and pointing at various places on the house.
Strange that the white stone remained as if nothing had happened. I hadn’t expected anything less from Janan, though. I’d seen the temple mend itself after Templedark, and other structures of white stone withstand onslaughts they shouldn’t. It was wrong. Creepy.
“Can you stand up?” Cris held my shoulders.