Eira’s POV
The floor doesn’t just break. It vanishes.
Gravity takes me before I can even draw a breath. The cold air of the corridor rushes past my ears, and the darkness below opens up like a mouth.
I flail my hands trying to hold off the stone to slow my fall, my fingers scraping uselessly against smooth stone.
Then Art’s hand locks around my wrist. His grip clamp on me like iron, completely bruising my skin. Behind him, Soren grabs the back of Art’s jacket, pulling him closer to himself, while Draven catches Soren’s belt, using the belt as anchor for him not to drift off. We are a chain of four, falling into the dark, and the mysterious woman is already gone, swallowed by the shadows above.
We’re dropping too fast. The ground is rushing up to kill us.
