Elisa slid across the rubble, her boots barely finding purchase on the unstable ground. The smoking chasm now split the battlefield in two, and on the far side, Zirel and the colossus carried on their deadly dance with the horned beast, containing its fury.
"Zirel! Take the anima gems from the beast!" she shouted, pointing toward the creature still sprawled on the ground.
Without waiting for an answer, she rushed to Maggie.
Her companion lay in the dust, amid the acrid stench of burned flesh and stone. She no longer moved. The superhuman fury that had consumed her to the marrow was gone, leaving behind only a broken body, an envelope of ash and pain. Maggie looked like a rag doll tossed aside, her arms and legs bent at impossible angles, her skin—where it was not charred—showing the terrible crimson of third-degree burns.
The air around her still vibrated with residual heat, warping the light. She looked as if she could burst into flames at any moment.
