Storm and Steel by Jon Sprunk

abandon ship. Staying on his hands and knees, he scurried toward the door. He opened it just in time.
    The concussion lifted Horace across the threshold and into the hallway. He landed on his side, jamming his elbow hard against the floor. Gasping through clenched teeth, he fumbled his way to his feet. The hallway was dark. The floor, he noticed, was slightly askew. This whole damned house is coming down.
    He glanced in the direction of the queen's suite but then ran in the other direction, toward the south wing. To Alyra's room.
    The floor shook again, and he almost ran over Mezim before a flash of light illuminated the secretary running in the opposite direction.
    â€œMezim!”
    â€œMy lord!”
    â€œThis way!”
    They ran to Alyra's room. The door was closed. Praying she was inside, Horace shoved it open with his shoulder. Though the oil lamps were unlit, the window shutters were open, allowing stilettos of moonlight to stab inside. He approached the bed, where a long lump lay under the sheets.
    â€œAl—,” he started to call to her when a silvery streak flashed toward him from the shadows behind the door.
    Horace flinched away, almost tripping on the loose rug, as the point of a narrow blade hovered in front of his face.
    â€œHorace?” Alyra lowered the knife.
    He let out a deep breath and tried to still his thumping heart. Then he saw a slender woman standing behind Alyra. It was the handmaiden he had seen earlier.
    Alyra gestured to the slave woman. “This is Sefkahet. We were just talking. What's happening?”
    Horace held out a hand. “It's an attack. We need to get out of here.”
    â€œJust a moment.”
    He waited anxiously as Alyra knelt down and reached under the small bed. She retrieved a leather satchel and slung it over her shoulder. Then she nodded to him as she stood up. “Where are we going?”
    â€œTo find the queen.”
    Horace led the women out to the hallway where Mezim waited, glancing anxiously all around. Distant lights through the windows cast flickering shadows across the walls. Horace started down the hallway in the direction of the royal apartment, but Alyra jerked him to a halt by grabbing his arm. “Wait! Stop!”
    All at once, Horace felt the overwhelming urge to shake her. Here he was, risking his life to save her, and she couldn't help herself from questioning him. “What?”
    â€œWhat's the plan?”
    â€œWe find the queen and get her away from here. Hopefully, to someplace safe.”
    â€œAnd where is that?”
    â€œI don't have a damned clue! All right? Let's just try to get of this alive.”
    She released his arm. “All right.”
    He spun around and hurried down the hall, trusting the others to keep up. Some of the floorboards had sprung loose, making for treacherous footing. As they got to the main body of the villa, the sound of quick footsteps made Horace stop short. He peered around a corner as Ubar appeared, hustling toward them.
    Horace stepped out into the open. “Lord Ubar, it's me.”
    â€œLord Horace!” The zoanii slowed his gait. “I was coming to find you. Please hurry. We must get to Her Majesty.”
    â€œThat's where we were heading,” Alyra said, coming to stand behind Horace. “Are you all right?”
    â€œQuite fine,” Ubar replied, pausing to take in Mezim and the handmaiden. “But we must hurry. The energies surrounding the house are growing in magnitude.”
    Horace could feel it, too. A gathering sense of dread from outside the villa's walls, like a great wave about to break over the gunwales.
    They found the first body at the mouth of the corridor leading to the queen's private suite. A member of the Queen's Guard. Three more lay behind him. The stench of blood and shit filled the hallway. Ubar held a sleeve to his mouth as he stepped past the soldiers. Horace forced himself to look down at them. They were my responsibility. And I