Maruzan could hardly see more than a few feet ahead. The air had turned to poison. Smoke clung to his clothes and stung his eyes until tears ran freely down his face. Every breath felt like swallowing sand. The fire’s glow flickered through the haze, red and orange against black, and everything else had dissolved into shifting shapes, some alive, some not.

  He moved slowly, one hand dragging along the wall beside him for balance. His sword was still in his other hand, though his arm shook too much for it to matter. He told himself he was looking for survivors, but deep down, he was afraid to admit what that might mean now.

  Everywhere he looked, the city was dying.

  The roar of battle that had once filled Harbinth was thinning, replaced by the distant crackle of flames and the muffled groans of the wounded. Metal scraped against stone somewhere to his left. He turned toward it, squinting through the haze, but saw only the ghostly outline of figures moving behind the smoke, some human, some kobold, maybe both.

  He pushed forward anyway.

  His boot caught on something solid. He stumbled, catching himself against the wall, then looked down.

  A body lay at his feet.

  When he crouched to turn it over, his stomach twisted. It was Lord Mayor Haldrin. The man’s face was streaked with soot, his armor split open, but even in death, he looked unyielding. His body was curved protectively over another fallen soldier. The mayor’s shield still hung from his arm, charred and dented, but raised just enough to tell the story, he had died protecting someone else.

  Maruzan stared at him for a long moment. The mayor had been one of the first to answer the call to defend Harbinth. He could have fled. He had the means. But he stayed.

  “You shouldn’t have,” Maruzan whispered, voice hoarse. “You could’ve lived.”

  The sound of his own voice startled him. He hadn’t realized how silent everything had become until then.

  He rose unsteadily and pressed on.

  The ground trembled under a heavy impact that made his teeth rattle. He turned just in time to see a troll collapse nearby, the massive body slamming into the street like a fallen tree. Its skin was covered in burns, its chest still smoldering from a wound that glowed faintly red. The smell hit next, burned meat, blood, and rot.

  Maruzan gagged and turned away, stumbling backward.

  A figure came running through the haze, a short, broad silhouette that made his heart jolt.

  “Torli!”

  The dwarf broke through the smoke, axe in hand, his beard matted with soot and blood. His armor looked like it had been dragged through a furnace.

  “Still breathin’, lad,” Torli said between ragged breaths. “Barely.”

  Maruzan gave a weak smile, relieved to see a familiar face. “You shouldn’t be out here alone.”

  Torli snorted. “None of us are alone tonight. Not while these beasts still crawl.”

  Before Maruzan could reply, Torli turned and charged back into the fight. His war cry faded quickly in the distance, swallowed by the smoke and fire.

  Maruzan stood there for a moment, watching the dwarf disappear. Then he kept moving.

  He stepped over broken weapons and scattered shields, over patches of earth blackened by flame and soaked with blood. The bodies were everywhere, kobolds, humans, side by side in death. Some looked peaceful, others frozen mid-fight.

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  Near the base of the wall, he saw a small shape propped against a blackened stone. A dwarf, sitting as if resting, hands folded in his lap. His axe lay across his knees, and his eyes were closed.

  Maruzan crouched beside him. It took him a second to remember his name. Luth. One of the younger dwarves, full of energy and eager to prove himself. He had spoken once during training, asking if it was true that humans sang before battle. Maruzan hadn’t known what to say then. He didn’t now either.

  Someone had moved him here, away from the worst of the fire. His armor had been straightened, his hands cleaned. Whoever did it wanted him to have peace.

  Maruzan swallowed hard and looked away. The sight struck him deeper than the chaos around him. It reminded him of what they were losing, people who should have had a future.

  He pushed himself up again, his legs heavy, his throat dry. His head spun from the heat and exhaustion, but he forced himself forward.

  He knew where he needed to go.

  Velthur.

  The boy was still out there. He had promised to return for him, and he meant it. Whatever was left of the city, whatever still burned, he couldn’t leave without him.

  He started running.

  The streets blurred together, collapsed houses, fallen beams, smoldering carts. Each turn looked the same, each corner filled with more smoke and ruin. The sky overhead was red and gray, the light of day buried beneath a choking haze.

  He passed Bram in the next street over. The dwarf was still fighting, his body slick with sweat and blood, swinging his hammer in wide arcs that sent kobolds flying.

  “Bram!” Maruzan shouted, but the dwarf didn’t hear him.

  Bram’s roar drowned everything else out. He fought with fury that looked more like grief than anger, as though every swing of his weapon was meant for someone already gone. His movements were wild, but there was strength in them, a determination that refused to break, even as the world around him fell apart.

  Maruzan wanted to stop, to help, but he couldn’t. Not now.

  He turned down another alley, following what he hoped was the path toward the southern edge of the city. His boots splashed through puddles of water and blood, the stones slick beneath his feet. He could feel the heat behind him, growing stronger, spreading closer.

  He thought of Velthur again, the boy’s small hands, the way he carried that strange artifact like it was part of him. The dryads had said it was bound to him, that he couldn’t be separated from it. Maruzan didn’t fully understand what that meant, but he knew it made the boy a target.

  He needed to reach him before anyone else did.

  He paused at the sound of voices ahead.

  Two soldiers were crouched near the remains of a barricade, trying to lift a fallen beam. One of them was Lysa, her face streaked with soot but her eyes still sharp. Narl was beside her, straining under the weight.

  “Maruzan!” Lysa called when she saw him. “Over here!”

  He ran to help, wedging his shoulder under the beam. Together, they pushed until it rolled away, revealing a man pinned beneath, a watchman, barely conscious, his leg twisted at an unnatural angle.

  “Can you move?” Lysa asked him.

  The man shook his head weakly.

  “Then we carry him,” Narl said, already pulling his arm over his shoulder.

  Maruzan helped lift from the other side. The man groaned but didn’t fight it. They carried him a few steps, setting him down behind the barricade where a cluster of wounded lay.

  “How bad is it out there?” Lysa asked, wiping her face with her sleeve.

  Maruzan hesitated. “Worse than before.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “How much worse?”

  He looked at her for a long moment before answering. “The walls are gone.”

  Narl cursed under his breath. Lysa stared at the ground, her jaw tight. “Then we hold here,” she said finally. “No one else gets through.”

  “You can’t hold forever,” Maruzan said quietly.

  “Maybe not,” she replied. “But we’ll buy time for whoever’s left.”

  She turned away before he could argue, shouting orders to the few watchmen still nearby.

  Maruzan wanted to stay. He wanted to fight beside them. But Velthur’s name echoed in his mind again, pushing him onward.

  “I have to find someone,” he said.

  Lysa gave a tired nod. “Then go. We’ll keep the way clear as long as we can.”

  He hesitated, then added, “If you see Ennett—”

  “She’s alive,” Lysa interrupted. “For now. She’s near the upper square.”

  Maruzan didn’t ask how she knew. He just nodded once and ran.

  The smoke grew thicker as he went, until it felt like walking through water. The city groaned around him, timbers cracking, stone walls collapsing. Every sound was distant now, muffled by the haze.

  He felt small in that moment, swallowed by something vast and merciless. But still, he ran.

  He would find Velthur. He would keep his promise.

  Even if Harbinth burned to the ground around them.