79 - Panic

The falling stones should have crushed her. She had never visited the dungeons often enough to know exactly how far underground this lower level was, but the weight of the upper cells alone should have flattened her. And Oza, too, no matter how much she wanted to believe otherwise. Sheer determination and panic wouldn’t have been enough for her to save him.

Or shouldn’t have been. But as she groaned under the weight of the solid slabs threatening to drive her into the ground and take Oza as well, she realized dimly that she wasn’t dead. That wasn’t possible, and yet here she was, breathing, however laborious and painful each rattling, shallow inhale. Her arms and legs trembled madly, struggling to support the weight of every piece of debris fallen on top of her so she didn’t suffocate Oza underneath, and she felt no give as she shifted left and right—but she was alive. She was conscious. And although they were buried in darkness under the rubble and she