The ground convulsed with a heavy quake, mud bubbling and sliding toward the widening hole. Chaos erupted instantly.
Knights and adventurers panicked in unison, stumbling and scrambling for safety. Some slipped in the muck and face-planted with clangs of armor, rolling like overturned turtles. The ground shook again, rattling everyone's teeth.
Finn groaned. "Of course. It's not the town that sucks—it's the landscape. Who could've guessed?"
"Finn, please stand by me if any more trouble comes," Isolde whispered, drifting closer like a phantom.
He didn't need to be told twice. Finn moved instinctively toward her, brushing his hand onto her shoulder. She didn't flinch—in fact, she seemed to welcome it.
A far cry from Silvara. If she were here, she'd be shoving his hand away unless he absolutely had to touch her. Probably didn't even like being touched at all. Or maybe just not by him.
'Well, damn.'
