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At the first shifting of the room, Quin swayed and caught himself.

“she’s right” boomed the voice. “This is no time to be dramatic.” the wall hurdled closer. “In fact, there is no need.”

A rumbling started from some unfathomable depth that sounded like giant laughter. It grew louder and louder as it came closer to the surface, until whole castle started to shake with it. The walls fractured, with dozens of tiny cracks, and the huge rift opened in the floor, trapping them between it and the oncoming wall. Quin staggered, tried to catch himself, and tumbled to the floor, his head inches away from the widening chasm.

With a crack louder than the loudest thunder the ceiling split apart, and choking dust rained down.

Quin looked around, but the others were hardly visible in the dusty air. He coughed and got his hands under him.

The shaking had never stopped.

Locran was shouting–for real this time, since they were orders, and Acyn was muttering something Quin couldn’t hear. Sahar still crouched, gripping Azar’s fur with one hand, and her knife with the other.

The noise became unmistakable. It was laughter.

“Now try to escape me!” the voice shouted above the din.

Quin’s head snapped up suddenly, and he started looking around as if he’d lost his mind. then everyone else heard it, too, thin, but unmistakable: “Quin!”

It was coming from above them. Through the dust they could see the rent in the ceiling, sharp and jagged, and leaning over the edge nearest them was the shape of a man.  He was stretching his arm down as far as it would reach, toward the man with the crutches.

Quin scrambled to his feet, and gripping Acyn’s arm for support, he threw one of his crutches through the dust. The man’s grasping fingers caught it, and he hung it on a jag of stone. “Come on!” he yelled.

Quin jumped as high as he could, but his fingers only just missed the extended crutch, and he fell back, nearly knocking Acyn down with him.

 

(thanks, Rose! I was clueless. 🙂