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THIRTY-SIX




Lowanna’s breath caught in her throat as she exited the trading post into the main square and was met with the chaotic scene unfolding before her. Marty, leading a ragged mob of human prisoners, was racing toward her, and ultimately the magma tube. The sight was jarring—a mob making a mad dash toward her, their eyes wide with fear and frantic for the freedom they were seeking. The humans staggered and fought for every step; some of the youngest and oldest stumbled and were picked up by others as they fled their captors. But it wasn’t just the humans she saw. With them came Grays, Farmers, friendlies, urging them on and lifting them as they fell.

She also saw the weasel Shush, leaping alongside his human family.

And behind them, a wave of further Grays surged forward, their expressions twisted with fury as they pursued the escapees with lethal intent. These were the Herders. Where the wave of pursuing Herders caught the fleeing humans and Farmers, battle was being waged.

The air was thick with the smell of acrid smoke, stinging Lowanna’s eyes and nose. The source of the smoke wasn’t clear, but it was unmistakable—something was burning. Her heart pounded in her chest as she took in the scene, the sounds of battle filling the chamber. Shouts, cries, the clash of metal on metal—it was a symphony of violence.

Lowanna’s gaze locked onto Marty, who was already engaged with a group of Grays. He moved with precision and speed, his body a blur as he dodged and struck, each movement fluid and deadly. The Grays were armed with the stun clubs Yotto had told them about, which crackled with energy as they swung them at him.

But Marty was relentless, his martial arts training evident in every calculated strike. He narrowly avoided being stunned twice, ducking under one swing and sidestepping another, before retaliating with brutal efficiency. A well-placed kick sent one Gray flying backward, while a swift punch crushed another’s windpipe. He didn’t hesitate, didn’t falter, even as the battle roared around him.

The Farmer faction Grays, who had joined the fray on the humans’ side, were armed with clubs, spears, and the occasional sword.

Anxiety filled Lowanna as she noticed Surjan’s tall figure pummeling two Grays at once. To her eyes the friendly faction of Grays was indistinguishable from the enemy one, so even if she wanted to wade in, how could she tell friend from foe? Even if she only attacked the Grays wielding stun maces, she risked killing some friend who had taken advantage of a fallen enemy to pick up a better weapon.

Nonetheless, the Grays seemed to know who was who since one side fought desperately to hold off the other faction, whose weapons gleamed with a savage intent. The acrid smell of smoke grew stronger, mingling with the metallic stench of blood as the bodies of fallen fighters littered the ground.

Lowanna’s eyes darted to the fleeing humans, her heart sinking as she saw some of them being cut down by the Herders. The sight of them, their bodies crumpling as they were struck down mere steps from the magma tube, filled her with a cold fury. She spotted a young woman who had stumbled, her ankle twisted painfully, struggling to rise as the Grays closed in on her.

Without thinking, Lowanna sprinted toward her, her instincts screaming at her to move faster. She reached the woman just as a Gray raised his club, the weapon crackling with energy. Lowanna acted on instinct, grabbing the woman and pulling her to safety, her heart racing as the Gray’s club slammed into the ground where the woman had been moments before.

Another Gray tackled the attacker and Lowanna dragged the woman away from the fighting.

“Get to the tube!” Lowanna shouted, pushing the woman toward the tunnel. The woman nodded, her eyes wide with fear and gratitude, before limping as fast as she could toward the escape route.

But Lowanna wasn’t done. The Grays were closing in, their relentless pursuit threatening to overrun the escaping humans. She felt a surge of desperation, knowing that if the Herders weren’t stopped, there would be no escape for any of them.

She glanced at the ground beneath her feet, finding small roots and plants that clung stubbornly to life in the cracks and crevices of the ancient stone. Something deep within her stirred, an instinct she had always known but rarely called upon. She focused, reaching out with that part of her that was connected to the earth, to nature itself.

She didn’t have a name for what she was about to do, but it felt right. She closed her eyes, blocking out the chaos around her, and concentrated on the life beneath her. She could feel it, the tiny roots and tendrils, the plants that lay dormant, waiting for the right stimulus to grow.

With a deep breath, Lowanna let that energy flow through her, into the ground. She didn’t need words, didn’t need to understand how it worked. She just needed it to happen.

The response was immediate. The small roots and plants beneath the surface began to writhe and grow, surging upward with a force that took even Lowanna by surprise. They burst from the cracks in the stone, twisting and curling as they reached for the nearest Grays. The Herders stumbled as the roots snaked around their legs, tripping them, pulling them down. The plants thickened, tightening their grip, hindering the Herders’ movements and slowing their pursuit.

The Herder Grays snarled in frustration, hacking at the roots with their weapons, but it was no use. The more they struggled, the tighter the roots clung, their movements becoming more frantic as they realized they were being overtaken by the very ground they stood on.

Lowanna opened her eyes, panting with the effort but filled with a fierce satisfaction. The humans were still fleeing; some had already passed through the trading post and were racing through the magma tube.

She looked over at Marty, who was still in the thick of the fight, his eyes burning with determination as he helped fight off another wave of Grays. She knew they couldn’t hold out much longer, but for now, they had bought the fleeing prisoners time. And in this battle, time was everything.

“Run!” Lowanna shouted to the humans who were still within earshot. “Get to the tube! Now!”

They didn’t need to be told twice. The last of the prisoners sprinted for the tunnel, their feet pounding against the stone as they made their final dash for freedom.

At their tail, the weasel Shush stopped, turned, and looked at Lowanna one last time. Thank you!

Lowana waved the creature on.

As the chamber began to empty, Lowanna took one last look at the tangle of roots and plants that had risen at her command. She didn’t know how long they would hold, but she knew one thing for sure: they had given the prisoners a fighting chance.

And that, for now, was enough.


Lowanna’s lungs burned as she struggled to take in what little oxygen remained in the stifling air. The sounds of battle still echoed through the chamber, but the chaos was growing fainter as the last of the prisoners disappeared into the magma tube. The thickening smoke clung to everything, turning the air into a choking, acrid haze. She could feel the weight of the situation pressing down on her, the mounting casualties, the desperation in every breath.

The Grays, relentless in their pursuit, were closing in. But she could see it in their movements—they were struggling, too, gasping for breath in the deteriorating conditions. They were as much at the mercy of the failing environment as the humans were.

Lowanna’s heart raced as she watched Marty sprint toward her, his face streaked with sweat and grime. He darted and weaved, narrowly avoiding the grasping roots that she had summoned to slow the enemy down. When he finally reached her, he skidded to a stop, his eyes wide with a mixture of amazement and concern.

“Is this your doing?” Marty asked, pointing to the writhing plants that continued to snake across the ground, lashing out at anything that moved.

Lowanna nodded, her voice hoarse from the smoke. “Yes. I didn’t know what else to do to slow them down. It was the only thing I could think of.”

Marty glanced at the advancing Grays, then back at the plants. “It’s a great idea, but we need to give these people more time. Kareem couldn’t find the bomb, so you don’t by chance have anything else in that bag of tricks you keep hidden?”

Lowanna followed his gaze, noticing a crack in the rock high up near the ceiling where the magma tube and trading post met. A plan began to form in her mind, a desperate idea that just might work. “I have an idea,” she said, pointing up at the crack, “but I need to get up there.”

The ceiling was about twenty feet above the ground.

Marty’s eyes followed her finger, and he nodded with sudden resolve. “I can get you up there. Hold onto my back.”

Without hesitation, Lowanna grabbed one of the writhing roots and it immediately curled up into a tight ball.

Marty raced over to the rocky wall under the crack and motioned for her to hurry.

She climbed onto Marty’s back, wrapping her legs tightly around his waist, and immediately wished the situation was different and they had some privacy.

Marty scanned up and down the rock wall as he ran his hand over the uneven texture. His muscles tensed beneath her and he began his climb, finding handholds in the jagged rock face with ease.

The ground fell away beneath them as they ascended, and even with the cacophony of battle occurring nearby, for a moment everything seemed okay. Her mind found a calming place to focus as she stared at her objective.

The crack in the ceiling loomed closer, and Lowanna’s heart thudded loudly in her ears as she realized just how far they had come. The ground seemed a long way down.

“Okay, do your thing,” Marty grunted, his voice strained.

“What, am I heavy?” she asked.

“Good hell, woman, not now! Do the thing and be mad at me later!”

Lowanna’s stomach lurched as she looked down, her head spinning with vertigo. Heights had never bothered her before, but now, clinging to Marty’s back, with nothing but air beneath her, she suddenly realized just how exposed they were. The fighting continued below, a chaotic mix of shouts and clashing weapons that felt distant and unreal.

They’d finally reached the crack, the narrow fissure in the rock just within her reach. Marty seemed to grip the wall by invisible handholds, but he held firm, gritting his teeth as his feet searched for a ledge to perch on. Lowanna quickly shoved the root she had brought into the crack, her fingers trembling as she began to focus.

She reached deep within herself, drawing on the same power that had called the roots to life before. She could feel the plant responding, its energy surging as she poured everything she had into it. The root began to grow, expanding and pushing deeper into the crack, twisting and turning as it sought out every weakness in the stone.

The sound of stone cracking was almost immediate, a deep, rumbling groan that reverberated through the chamber. Lowanna’s breath caught in her throat as she felt the rock beneath them shift. The root was doing its job, growing rapidly, forcing the rock apart with relentless pressure.

One of Marty’s hands lost its grip on the wall, and for a terrifying moment, they were both hanging by three fingers. “Lowanna,” he gasped, “we need to move—now!”

But it was too late. The crack widened and the stone Marty had been hanging on gave way, and they were suddenly falling, tumbling through the air as the ground rushed up to meet them.

Lowanna squeezed her eyes shut, bracing for impact. The sound of crashing rock filled her ears, followed by the thunderous rush of icy water as it poured through the breached ceiling. The avalanche of stone and water struck the ground with a force that shook the entire chamber, sending debris in all directions.

She hit the ground hard, the impact knocking the breath from her lungs and leaving her stunned. For a moment, everything was a blur of noise and pain. She could feel the cold water seeping through her clothes, the jagged rocks digging into her skin, but all of it seemed distant, as if it were happening to someone else.

Slowly, the world began to come back into focus. She could hear the distant sounds of the Grays, their pursuit halted by the sudden collapse. The writhing roots had been buried beneath the rubble, but they had done their job.

The world grew dim as she wondered whether the escape route had been sealed.


Lowanna coughed violently, her lungs burning as she expelled icy water from her chest. The cold bit into her skin, the taste of the mineral-laden water sharp in her mouth as she spat it out. The world around her was a blur of pain and confusion, the sounds of crashing rocks and rushing water mingling with the frantic shouts of Marty and Surjan.

She was half-buried in rubble, the weight of the rocks pressing down on her chest, pinning her in place. The world was at an angle, and it was only then that she realized that was on the steep, sloping entrance to the magma tube itself.

The cold, jagged edges bit into her skin, but the sensation was dull, distant, as if her body was no longer entirely her own. She could barely see through the haze of dust and debris, her vision swimming with dark spots.

Marty and Surjan were above her, their hands moving with desperate speed as they clawed at the rocks, trying to free her. Their faces were etched with fear, their voices hoarse from shouting instructions to each other over the deafening roar of the water. Lowanna noticed something else that sent a fresh wave of dread through her—far more of the ceiling had collapsed than she’d imagined.

The entire magma tube seemed to be slowly caving in on itself, the walls groaning under the pressure. But even more alarming was the water. It was gushing in from all sides, a relentless tide of icy cold that surged over the rocks, filling every crevice and hollow. The water was flooding the magma tube. She realized that even if the rocks didn’t block the passage to chase the fleeing prisoners, the rising water almost certainly would.

Surjan grunted with effort as he heaved a particularly large stone off her chest, tossing it aside with a grimace. “Stay with us, Lowanna!” he urged, his voice tight with strain.

Marty was by her side, his hands digging into the debris, his face set in a mask of determination. But there was fear in his eyes, too—a fear that Lowanna could feel deep in her bones. What was he afraid of? They had managed to block the passage, and that’s what mattered.

Marty’s hand suddenly cupped her cheek, his voice trembling with urgency. “Lowanna, are you in pain? Do you feel anything?”

For a moment, she couldn’t answer him. She stared up at him, the world fading in and out as a torrent of water flowed past them into the magma tube. The edges of her vision darkened, and for a split second, the roar of the water and the frantic movements of her friends seemed to fade away. She felt . . . peaceful.

A strange calm washed over her, dulling the edges of fear that had gripped her heart moments before. She knew, deep down, that this might be the end. And in that moment, as the cold numbed her limbs, she found herself accepting it.

Her breath was shallow, her voice barely a whisper as she looked into Marty’s eyes. “I don’t feel anything . . . no pain at all.”

She wasn’t lying. The crushing weight on her legs, the cold that had seeped into her bones—none of it mattered anymore. There was no pain, only a distant, fading sensation as if her body was slipping away from her.

Marty’s eyes widened in panic, but Lowanna’s gaze remained steady, almost serene. As the darkness began to close in around her, she felt a strange sense of relief. The battle was ending, and maybe, just maybe, she could finally rest.

The last thing she saw was Marty’s frantic face, his voice echoing in her ears as the world went dark and the water threatened to swallow them all.



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Framed