Two burly guards unlock the barrier and pull it open before them, exposing a short tunnel that leads to a flight of stairs that ascend to the surface. A heavy dust-filled mist hangs in the air, swirling eerily before the soft lantern glow. Covering her mouth and nose with her tunic neckline, Anna moves forward quickly, Maia a step behind. The dust haze gets deeper as they climb the steps, and the smell of gunpowder and molten lead remind Anna of the Uprising.
They reach the surface, where the fog is settling on the debris from the bombing, coating the world in a thin layer of gray powder. Anna gasps as she surveys the extent of the damage.
“My God,” she says.
“They’ve destroyed it all,” Maia says.
Anna nods because she’s right. The subchapter, once beautiful in its elegant design, with symmetrical city blocks and narrow canals, is in shambles, its buildings toppled, its waterways filled to the brim with chunks of large stone blocks. The Dome, the large half-sphere at the center of the city, is ripped in half, mangled beyond recognition, the subchapter’s symbol of solidity and order reduced to ash and debris. And the strange thing: they can see it all from where they’re standing.
“The lights are back on,” Anna realizes, gazing at the cavern roof, where the rectangular panel lights are shining brighter than she’s ever seen them.
“And they’re brighter,” Maia says, reading her mind.
“This can mean only one thing,” Anna says, dread filling her. “The sun dwellers are coming.”
At that moment, a horn blares, drawing Anna’s attention to the eastern corner of the city, where an inter-Realm tunnel leads to the Sun Realm.
Hundreds of red-clad sun dweller soldiers pour from the maw of the tunnel, letting loose a thunderous war cry, climbing over half-crushed stone blocks and cracked gray columns.
“Move!” Anna shouts, just as a flash of flame erupts in the distance. Her words are unnecessary, as Maia is already on the run, seeking shelter behind one of the few upright stone walls.
BOOM!
An eruption of rock and fire and pain—from the splinters of stone shrapnel on her face and arms—announces the arrival of incendiaries preceding the ground troops. Covering her head with her hands, Anna races after Maia, diving for cover just as another blast shatters the abnormally bright night.
“We’ve got to get back to the bunker…warn the others,” Anna says, breathing heavily.
“I’ll go,” Maia says, moving out from the wall before Anna has a chance to argue. She begins to pursue the young warrior, but is stopped when another bomb explodes, throwing Maia back and into her arms, knocking them both flat on the ground. Her ribs are on fire and her lungs full of dirt, but she manages to wheeze, “Maia—are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” the girl says, rolling off of her. “You?”
“I’ll survive.”
“We’ve got a problem, General,” Maia says, looking back toward the bunker. Following her gaze, she watches as a massive stone block settles over the mouth of the entrance.
“Dammit,” Anna says. “We’ll have to get to the other entrance.”
“Follow me,” Maia says, once more surprising Anna with her courage and strength. Moving out from the cover once more, Anna chases Maia across the broken terrain, staying low to avoid detection by the enemy. The war cries have stopped, but she knows they’re still coming, and it’s only a matter of time before the sun dweller soldiers manage to navigate the maze of fallen buildings and clogged canals.
As Maia hurdles a low wall, there’s another explosion, this time just to her right, and she’s thrown harshly to the side, tumbling down a small rise and into the blackness of a cellar. Just before she disappears, she cries out.
Her head on a swivel, Anna climbs over the wall and creeps down the hill toward the opening, hissing, “Maia!”
No response.
Thumbing her flashlight back on, she steps through the opening, descends a dozen stone steps, and flashes the light on Maia, who’s against the wall grimacing, clutching her ankle and breathing sharply through her teeth.
“Did you hit your head?” Anna asks.
“No. My ankle. I sprained it,” Maia says.
“It’s too hot out there at the moment,” Anna says. “I don’t think I can carry you to safety without getting us both killed. I’ll go get help.”
Maia nods, her eyes a steel-gray. “I’ll be here,” she says, forcing a laugh through her locked teeth.
Turning, Anna moves to climb from the cellar when the ground shakes from another blast.
CRACK!
A terrible sound of destruction rends the night. A huge stone block looms over the cellar entrance, rocking slightly, as if trying to decide which way to fall.
CRASH!
It topples, blocking the exit and thrusting the cellar into complete darkness, save for the thin beam of Anna’s flashlight.
Her heart sinks as she realizes: the cellar is now their tomb.
Chapter Four
The first ten minutes were the worst. Breathing in plumes of dust-ridden air from the explosion, coughing and coughing, but never managing to expel the choking fumes; hearing the deafening blasts of bombs going off all around them, the ground shaking, the roof threatening to cave in; wondering when the first sun dweller soldiers would arrive, whether they would break through the barricaded cellar opening, hot metal death flying from their automatic weapons: it was ten minutes of expectation. Expectation of pain—expectation of death.
General Rose huddles next to Maia, not embarrassed by the physical contact between leader and warrior, desperately needing the comfort of having a friend nearby.
I’m going to die without seeing either of my daughters again, Anna thinks to herself pitifully. Her husband’s face pops into her mind, giving her strength.
No! I will not go quietly into the night. This fight I’ve fought for so many years will not be lost, not while I’m still breathing, while my heart’s still beating, while blood continues to pump through my veins.
“We’re going to be okay,” Anna whispers.
“I know we will,” Maia replies.
For a few minutes they continue to wait for something to happen, but the bombing stops, leaving the only sound their haggard wheezing. But even that is silenced eventually, as the dust settles in a layer of gray powder on the ground. The air is breathable once more, and both women take the opportunity to cleanse their lungs with the fresh oxygen.
“I’ve always really admired you,” Maia says.
Anna’s eyes jerk to the young woman’s. It’s not what she expected her to say. Not with an injured ankle in a caved-in cellar in the middle of a warzone. “Really? Why?”
“Because you’re strong and courageous. You put the lives of others above your own. My mother said you would be the one to change things.”
Anna laughs uneasily. “It doesn’t appear that way, does it?”
“It’s not over yet.”
Once more, Anna’s taken aback by the strength of the girl who’s barely half her age. “Where’d you come from?” she asks, finally letting her curiosity get the better of her.
“Death,” Maia says, her voice a whisper in the dark.
“Tell me,” Anna says.
“My father was a revolutionary, like you and your husband. My mother stayed home with us, a somber woman, always expecting my father not to come home one day.”
“Who was your father?”
“James Berg. He was in the Resistance for two years before the Uprising.” There’s a hint of pride in Maia’s voice.
Anna nods. “Yes, James, of course. I didn’t know him that well, but I remember his passion for the cause. He was always going on about how wonderful the world would be once we put it right.”
Maia laughs. “He said similar things at home. He was the opposite of my mother, always seeing good in people and in the future, whereas my mother only saw our situation worsening. In the end, she was right, I guess.”