El shifted, or tried to, a weight on her chest keeping her firmly pinned in place. Everything hurt, the pressure made it hard to breathe, and darkness filled her vision.

  What happened? Right, the explosion. The others!

  She rolled her head to the right. Black. To the left. More black. Was she buried? Would the others be able to dig her out with all the cannon fire?

  El paused. Wait. Where was the cannon fire? Everything was quiet. Was she just buried so deep she couldn’t hear it? If that was the case, would anybody ever find her? Would she die down there in the dark? Unable to move...

  Her breath came in short, stuttering heaves, the weight on her chest preventing her lungs from filling. She tried moving her legs, but they were stuck, as was her left arm, and all she could do with her right was claw at the unforgiving stone with her fingers.

  “Somebody,” she said, her body aching to move, like it had an electricity running through it demanding action. And her complete inability to so much as shift only made it worse. The pressure built inside her, along with the unease and helplessness, and she tried twisting and pushing. Nothing.

  Her right hand punched the rock, but even with her flame-armor-enhanced strength, she just didn’t have the angle or the leverage to do any damage to it.

  The world tilted, then spun, and black spots floated across her vision, even in the absolute darkness of her tomb-like predicament.

  “You’re panicking, El,” she told herself. “Get a hold of yourself.”

  And then what? Wait for somebody to find her? Nobody was coming to save her. Not like last time. Nexin wasn’t… wasn’t…

  No. He wasn’t. And was that her fault? If she’d been stronger, he wouldn’t have needed to come and save her. Did… did she deserve to be buried like this? Was this her punishment for getting him killed?

  All the strength left her body, and she sagged there under the stone on top of her. The flame armor prevented the stone from outright crushing her, and allowed her to breathe, but what was the point?

  It wasn’t Nexin that should’ve died against the Stormbearer. It was her. This was just karma catching up with her for getting the best chance they had at winning the war killed. Nobody openly said it, but everybody knew Nexin was a once-in-a-century prodigy. The genius who would skyrocket through the ranks and emerge as the next great leader… if only he’d lived long enough.

  Without him, what was the future for the war? For her? He was the last family she had left. He was the goal she always strove for. Her “ideal.” What would he do if their roles were reversed?

  El sighed, as best she could with the heavy rock on her chest.

  Well, the one burning thing he wouldn’t do was give up. He also wouldn’t wallow in his own loss. No, he’d get back out there and make sure he didn’t lose any more people important to him.

  And he’d make sure he burned the person who killed her to the ground. Maybe it was time for her to stop running away from the Stormbearer, and figure out a way to knock his stupid, burning head off.

  Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

  She just needed to get the rock off her chest first.

  So, how was she going to do that? Even without the cannon fire, she couldn’t have been blasted too far from the alley they’d been in. That meant two things. First, whatever was happening had finished. Second, if she ignited just about anything, one of the fortress cannons would probably sense her. That had to be how they opened fire on the Firestorm swarming through the storm.

  Her flame armor only gave her about an inch of breathing room, but she’d have to make the most of it. Time to see just how stuck she really was.

  Her knees couldn’t bend any more than they were, but she could slide her legs slightly left and right. That was something. Okay, what about her left arm? It wasn’t pinned, there was just nowhere for her to move it. Must be a narrow space between the… what was on top of her anyway? Rubble from the warehouse? Did she have an entire building on her?

  Worry about what you’re buried under later, El. Focus on getting out. Her right arm had the most freedom, and she grasped around with her hand, feeling out the space. She couldn’t even reach the far side, and her fingers barely grazed the upper layer of stone. That was her chance. If she could pull herself in there, maybe she’d have the leverage to really get out.

  Fingers scrabbling along the stone on her chest, she wedged her palm under a small outcropping and gently pushed up and to the left. The stone itself didn’t budge, not even a fraction of an inch, but she used it to push her body to the right. Good. Little more of that, and she’d be free. And, since the stone didn’t move, that meant it wasn’t her flame armor actually holding it up.

  El rotated her left wrist around, finding purchase with that hand too, then pushed again. Her right shoulder slid out from under the large stone, and she wiggled her hips to get her legs moving as well. Another push, and she took the first full breath since she’d woken up.

  For long minutes, El twisted and squirmed, wriggled and pushed, until finally she pulled her feet out from under the pinning stones. The area she’d pulled herself into was luxuriously spacious compared to where she’d been trapped, at least two and a half feet high and wider than she was tall. Still trapped in complete darkness, she stretched out, then pulled in close, simply enjoying the freedom to move. That done, she flipped over onto her hands and knees, got one foot under her, and braced her back against the rubble above her.

  As long as she wasn’t too deep…

  El heaved.

  Orange light filled the space, her flame armor shimmering as it converted some of the force of her push into heat.

  “Move, you burning son of a newt,” she grunted, rock bubbling around her boot as it melted. “MOVE!”

  Dust and pebbles rattled down from above, but the rubble at her back shifted. Lifted.

  Cracks of light, and a puff of snow, dropped into the space with her, urging her on.

  El braced with her right arm down and her left on the ceiling, then quickly snapped her right foot under her so that she had both feet on the ground. Straining with both legs, the weight on her back slowly lifted, snow falling in great blobs to sit without melting.

  Stupid. Magic. Snow.

  She pushed again, the weight suddenly shifting, tumbling backward, and El scurried forward to avoid the falling stone. It came down with a gentle crack, mostly muted by the snow, and just like that, El was free.

  Tilting her head back, she let the gentle flakes fall softly on her face and took a long, deep breath. Her lungs filled and emptied, filled and emptied, then she turned her attention to her surroundings.

  Black stone sat under a thick blanket of white, at least three inches thick, and what little she could see through the constantly falling snow was more of the same. For the snow to be that thick over the rubble, how long had she been out? Hours, at the least. Maybe more?

  Looking around, the cannon fire had completely leveled that part of the city. She turned, surveying the damage and looking for any sign of her friends, but stopped when she’d done a one-eighty.

  The column of sunlight was a few scant feet from where she stood, the massive fortress towering above her. Good thing she hadn’t ignited anything after all. The last thing she needed was…

  The nearest cannons pivoted in her direction, their head-sized barrels glowing an ominous orange inside.

  Oh, burn it.

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