"Out," Draven said.
Azra didn't argue. She limped to the emergency stairwell, Draven matching pace. A spray of pebbles peppered their shoulders as they ducked through the archway, panting in the stale air of a service tunnel. Behind them, the axle chamber caved by degrees, each collapse echoing like distant artillery.
They climbed a spiral that reeked of centuries-trapped brine. At the midway landing Azra stumbled, one leg buckling. Draven caught her elbow, hauled her upright without breaking stride. She muttered thanks too quietly to parse. He released her as soon as she regained footing.
When they burst into moonlight, the world had changed hues. A column of blue fire still drifted skyward, unspooling into curtains that rippled across the entire horizon. Stars blinked behind the aurora as though trying to decide whether to shine through the strange day. The light painted shattered reeds, fallen shields, even the snow-patched ground in ethereal glow.
