165

Drezhan

I rush toward the source of the loud thud, my heart pounding. When I reach the stairway, I see Myra sprawled at the bottom floor, her body curled in pain.

But she doesn’t stay down for long. She clutches her side for a moment, wincing, then begins to roll—slowly at first—before pushing herself upright. Her movements are sluggish, but she doesn’t stop.

“Myra, stop!” I command, She doesn’t.