bringing down an eight-food-wide section of the ceiling.
More cracks and snaps sounded, so loud that they seemed to bang at his eardrums, and then the ceiling fell. Tons and tons of rock crashed down, more than Yanko had intended. He backed to the wall, suddenly aware that the exit was on the opposite side of the chamber from him.
As dust and rock plunged down from above, Lakeo sprinted along the wall and into the passage. She was carrying something. He couldn’t tell if it was the lodestone or if she had simply grabbed what looked valuable. Either way, he was relieved that at least she would make it out, so long as she could navigate those traps on her own.
He grimaced as more rocks tumbled into the chamber, a cloud of dust obscuring everything. Would she be able to get past those traps without him? He had better survive so he could help her. He reached up with his mind, intending to shore up the ceiling above him. The collapse was already slowing, however, and he slumped against the wall in relief. He had known it would take a great deal of rock to crush the soul construct, but he hadn’t meant to bury them all.
The rocks stopped falling, the silence odd after the cacophony of clatters and clunks. Dust still filled the room, and Yanko couldn’t see more than two feet in front of him.
The woman said something, coughs interrupting her words. Yanko wouldn’t have understood anyway. He almost said something in Nurian, so they would at least know his language, but a few rocks shuddered and clacked against each other. With dread rushing into his stomach, Yanko knew the noise hadn’t originated in the stone above them. The construct was still alive under the rubble—and it was trying to get out.
He had no idea what else he might throw at it in order to kill it.
“We have to get out of here,” he said, already edging around the rubble pile and toward the entrance. He felt cowardly for contemplating leaving the Kyattese, especially when they were injured and would have to carry out two of their people—if those people were still alive. But he wasn’t a healer and didn’t know what else he could do. He had no weapons that could hurt the construct further. “If we leave, maybe it won’t follow.”
The Kyattese did not respond to him. Maybe they didn’t know Nurian, or maybe they were too worried about their injured people.
His toe bumped against something as he crept toward the exit. A rock? No, he was passing the spot where the pirate’s goods had been stored. Lakeo had escaped with some items, but not everything. Had she searched for the lodestone? Had she found it? Or should he take the time to look?
The rock pile shifted again, several stones rolling off the top and down to the floor. An unearthly and extremely angry screech emanated from within. Yanko shuddered, certain that screech meant the construct had him marked for death.
“Yanko, damn it, get out here,” Lakeo yelled from somewhere down the passage. From the closest trap, most likely.
Hoping he wasn’t making a mistake, Yanko left the treasure and ran for the exit.
“Get out of here before it escapes,” he called to the Kyattese, one last warning. If they couldn’t figure that out, he did not know what else he could do for them.
The dust filled the tunnel, clouding it almost as badly as the chamber. He would have run into Lakeo’s back if she hadn’t been cursing him for taking so long.
“I’m here,” he rasped, his vocal chords feeling as if they were caked in dust. He gripped her arm. “Follow me.”
Another angry screech came from behind them. He forced himself to check the floor carefully, not to rush, as he guided Lakeo through the trap.
“I almost fried my eyebrows off trying to find the way on my own,” Lakeo said. “I did sense the attack right before it went off, and I had time to jump back.” There was a hint of wonder in her voice.
“Good.”
With his ear toward the chamber, he couldn’t manage much more of a response. He worried the construct would know Lakeo had taken some of its treasure and charge after them as soon as it escaped. He was all too aware that they were on an island and without a means off, unless they could indeed get away in the underwater boat. Or if they could grab one of the