I opened my eyes only to be greeted by complete blackness. I blinked a few times, thinking something might be wrong with my eyes, but there was still only blackness. I attempted to lift an arm, but felt the resistance of something. It was trapped. I could not move it. And then the pain registered. It started as a dull ache across my chest, then sharpened into something that made me grit my teeth. My ribs felt wrong—compressed, maybe broken. Each breath came shallow and raspy.

  I tried to remember what had happened. The last clear image flickered through my mind: I was in a tunnel––running. There was danger. And quaking as the ceiling rained down on me, and then the floor fell from underneath my feet. I fell into blackness, and that was the last thing I remembered. The blackness. The falling.

  How far had I fallen? And now I was trapped in the dark. Something was clearly on top of me, and I couldn’t see a thing. Panic crashed through me, and I felt my breath come faster. But it hurt to breathe. Had I punctured a lung? Cracked ribs? Or worse? The possibilities overwhelmed me. And I realized I needed to get this under control.

  First, I had the bond with Markus. No matter where I went, I knew he would find me. I also had the double bond, which gave me the Protector’s side of the bond as well. That meant that whatever was wrong with me would heal, even without the help of a Remaker. I might even be healing now. My biggest priorities were to get an idea of where I was and to stabilize my position. And then a terrifying thought occurred to me? Had Markus fallen through the floor too?

  Before another wave of panic could grab hold of me, I paused that thought and took a few slow breaths, even though it was painful to do so. The next thing I did was reach out to Markus through the bond. I knew if I took a moment to concentrate, I could pin down his location like he could do with me.

  The pain made it difficult to concentrate, but I pushed through and held the image of Markus in my mind. Moments later, I could sense the pulsing sensation that told me my Protector’s exact location. He wasn’t near me. I felt him somewhere above. Quite a bit above. I had fallen a long way. I also sensed his urgency to find and retrieve me.

  We could not communicate in words, but we could direct a message through feelings with a little effort. So I lay there in my dark prison and tried to convey to my Protector a sense of calm to let him know that despite my circumstances I was alright. A moment later, I felt a surge of reassurance from him. I closed my eyes and sighed as a strange calm took over. I knew he’d neutralize the altriks and then come for me. Help was on the way.

  I lay there in the darkness, not sure if I should try moving again. The pain was still intense, and whatever was pressing down on me seemed to get heavier by the minute. I also heard the skittering of debris falling. Something hit the side of my head. And then another blast of thoughts rushed through me as I wondered how safe I was in my current location? Would I be buried even further? Would another quake send more of the cavern to crush me to the point where even my healing ability could not help me?

  Again, I focused on my breathing to calm me down. Was it my imagination, or was the pain just a little less than it had been a few moments ago? I decided to focus on the positive thread. Whether it was true or not didn’t matter; it was something I could focus on that wouldn’t send me into a full-on panic.

  “Help!” I heard a muffled voice somewhere off to my right.

  “Hello?” I called back. For a moment, I was confused about who else could be down here with me, and then I remembered Quinton. She had been running with me too. I was a little concerned that I had forgotten all about her, even if only for a few moments, but again I had to refocus. I had just fallen who knows how deep and no doubt hit my head along the way. I most likely had a concussion.

  “Quinton? Is that you?” I called out, wincing as the effort sent a fresh stab of pain through my chest.

  “Highness? You’re alive!” The relief in her voice was palpable even through the layers of rock and debris between us. “Thank the stars. I wasn’t sure whether you had survived the fall. I can’t move. I’m trapped under something.” The panic was clear in her voice as she spoke the last words.

  “I can’t either, but Markus knows where I am. We just need to hold on a little while and he will get us out,” I said to reassure her.

  She was quiet for a long moment, taking that in. I concentrated with my Empathic Dome-ni, and while I did not have a line of sight, which is when my ability worked best, I still caught a thread of her emotion using Caretaker Thaddeus’s training to focus my ability. She was still frightened, but there was a calm that was taking hold. My words must have had an effect.

  “What about you?” Quinton asked. “Are you hurt?”

  I tried to shift slightly to gauge the extent of my injuries, but the movement sent another spike of pain through my chest. “I think I have some broken ribs. It hurts to breathe, but I’m alive, so there’s that. What about you?”

  “My arm... I think it’s broken. And something’s pinning my legs.”

  I processed this information with growing concern. While I had the enhanced ability to heal, the Lieutenant did not.

  “We’ll figure this out,” I said, though the words felt hollow in the suffocating darkness.

  The urgency to escape intensified as I assessed our situation. Quinton’s injuries didn’t sound so bad, but I knew she might have internal bleeding with the fall we’d taken. She needed help sooner rather than later.

  I tried to think through the pain to formulate a plan. The weight on my chest seemed to shift slightly with each breath, dust particles filling my nostrils with every inhale. The darkness was absolute, disorienting.

  “Lieutenant, can you move at all?” I called out.

  “I’ve been working my one leg out. I think I can get it. Just a minute.” She called back. I heard the strain of pain in her voice.

  I had to fight the urge to help her. There was nothing I could do to save her or myself without possibly making things worse. So I continued to lie still as I heard her struggle in the dark somewhere close by.

  A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  The sound of shifting stone and her labored breathing filled the suffocating space between us. I wanted to offer encouragement, but the words died in my throat as another small cascade of debris pattered down somewhere near my feet. Every sound seemed magnified in the absolute darkness; each scrape and groan of settling rock made me flinch, knowing every sound could signal another collapse.

  “I’ve got my leg free,” Quinton gasped, her voice tight with pain. “But I still can’t—” Her words cut off with a sharp cry that echoed through the darkness.

  “Imogen!” I yelled, calling her first name, realizing it was the first time I’d ever used it.

  The silence that followed made my stomach clench with dread. “Quinton!” I called again, my voice cracking. My heart now pounding in my constricted chest, making everything feel so much worse.

  “I’m… I’m alright,” came the strained reply after what felt like an eternity. “Just knocked the wind out of myself. Something shifted when I moved. I think… hold on.”

  There was more movement and more debris tumbling down, and I was about to tell her to just stay where she was before she brought everything down on us, but then I heard an exuberant shout.

  “I’m out! I’m free!” she said.

  I breathed a sigh of relief. “Good. That’s good.” At least one of us had gotten free. “Can you see anything?” I asked, allowing a bit of hope to creep into my voice.

  “Not much. There’s a tiny bit of light coming from somewhere off to the side, but I can barely make out shapes. Wait—” Quinton’s voice grew more focused. “I think I can see a luminary.”

  I heard a scratching sound and then what sounded like small rocks being thrown, and suddenly the pitch black was illuminated and I could finally see. A white light bathed the mound of rocks above and allowing me to see why I couldn’t move. It looked like half the tunnel had fallen on top of me. Why hadn’t I been crushed?

  The light became brighter, and a moment later, a bruised and battered Lieutenant Quinton came into view. She held a luminary rod aloft in one hand, while she cradled her other arm close to her chest. She stopped near me and shone the light onto the pile pinning me down.

  “That’s a lot of rocks, Highness. You’re lucky to be alive.”

  I could see what she meant. The rocky debris formed a precarious shelter around me, larger stones creating a pocket that had prevented me from being completely crushed. But the weight pressing down on my chest came from dozens of smaller rocks that had filtered through the gaps.

  “I think the bigger rocks are holding up the pile. Still, we need to be careful with what we move, or the whole thing could come crashing down. I’m not sure how much of it I can move with this busted arm, but I’ll try it.”

  The pressure was building, and I was getting the sinking feeling that if I didn’t get out of here soon, I wouldn’t be walking away from this. But I was determined not to give in to the fear, and I put as much steadiness and resolve into my voice as I could manage.

  “Do what you can, but if it looks like you are going to make things worse, just stop. I’m sure Markus will be down here as fast as he can.”

  But how far down had we gone? My Protector still felt a long ways away. And how would he be able to get down here without making things worse? Again, I had to shift my thoughts before I drowned in desperate panic. Markus would find a way. I just had to trust him to do so.

  “Here. Hold this?”

  I realized my hand was sticking out and was free from the debris pile, while my arm was still pinned. But I was at least able to take hold of the luminary the Lieutenant handed me. She took a long moment to assess the pile. And then, a grim determination settled on her dirty face as she set to work.

  She started with the smaller stones along the edges, testing each one carefully before committing to moving it. I watched her work as she kept her injured arm close to her ribs. The arm of her brown coat was damp with blood, and I couldn’t help but notice a flash of white bone as she moved that jutted out midway between her elbow and hand. I could only imagine the pain she was in, but she didn’t hesitate in her steady rhythm as the woman attempted to set me free.

  The Lieutenant’s face was pale beneath the dirt and grime, beads of sweat glistening on her forehead as she worked. I watched her struggle, feeling utterly helpless as she fought through her own pain to save me. With each stone she removed, the pile seemed to settle more heavily against the remaining rocks, and I could feel the weight pressing down with renewed force.

  “Stop,” I managed through gritted teeth. “It’s getting worse.”

  Quinton paused, her good hand still gripping a medium-sized stone. She studied the pile with the focused intensity of someone who understood structural integrity, then slowly released the rock back into place.

  “You’re right,” she said, stepping back. Her breathing was labored, and her face was slick with sweat. “I think the weight is shifting.” She looked at me with growing concern. “I need to try a different approach.”

  The weight pressing down on my chest had definitely increased since she’d started working. Each breath was becoming more labored, and I could feel a sharp edge digging into my ribs that hadn’t been there before.

  The luminary’s light cast harsh shadows across Quinton’s face, highlighting the pain etched in every line. I could see her struggling to maintain composure, but the way she held herself told me she was reaching her limits. I then saw Quinton sway slightly; she looked like she might collapse at any moment.

  “Lieutenant, you need to sit down,” I said, trying to inject authority into my strained voice.

  She shook her head stubbornly. “I’m fine, Highness.”

  “You’re not fine. And neither of us will be if you pass out.” I gestured with the luminary still in my hand toward a relatively flat boulder nearby. “Please sit. At least for a little bit to gather yourself.”

  Quinton stood awkwardly for a moment, as if she was deciding to actually sit down or not. Her body decided for her as she swayed again and then stumbled backward onto the boulder. She let out a sharp exhale as she settled against the rock, cradling her broken arm more carefully. The luminary rod trembled slightly in my grip, casting dancing shadows across the debris pile that held me trapped.

  “Better?” I asked, though I could see the answer written in the slight easing of tension around her eyes.

  “Yes, Highness.” She adjusted her position, wincing as she moved. Finally, she must have found a spot that didn’t leave her in too much pain, because she became still and quiet.

  Another moment passed, and I heard her move again. I then noticed she was pulling something out of the inner pocket of her coat. It was the datapad. I could already see that the thin glass had multiple cracks in it.

  “I’m surprised that didn’t get smashed to pieces. Do you think we can still get the information off of it?” I asked hopefully.

  Quinton turned it around in her one-handed grasp, examining it. “Yes, I think so. The damage appears to be superficial, but we won’t know until we clean it up, turn it on, and try accessing the information.”

  I then noticed a red dusting on part of the data pad. “What’s the powder from?”

  “Oh, no!” Quinton said as she set the data pad on her knee and reached back into the pocket. This time she pulled out several dull red rock pieces. “Well, some of it’s intact. Maybe we can still use the bigger chunks.”

  “Is that firestone?” I asked, straining to see better.

  The Lieutenant nodded. “Yeah, I picked up a piece from one of the crates as we were leaving so we could test it later to see if it’s inert like the others.”

  “Good thinking,” I said as I watched her fumble to put the data pad in the inner pocket on left side of her coat away from the crushed stone, while placing what was left of the firestone pieces back in the pocket she took them from.

  She sighed heavily. “It’s only good thinking if that data pad hasn’t been corrupted by blunt force trauma or by the crushed firestone, or the firestone is intact enough to be read in an olthometer.”

  “I’m sure it will be fine,” I said, trying to lift the mood. Though I was thinking along the same lines. Had their trip through the north wing been for nothing?