Sweat dripped down the sides of her cheeks as she laid with her back pressed against the bookshelf. Agatha spat blood, grasped the shelves, and pushed herself up. The flames burned stronger as she strained to see through the smoke, so black that not even the night sky could compete. Her eyes found the door but widened at the sight of Daciana still on the floor with the fire fast approaching.
The flames were perilously near as the fire fed on the mansion's old timber. As Agatha staggered in the room, her eyes moistened. A cry escaped her as a blazing flame burned her arm. She held her throbbing arm to her chest, her eyes watering, as she searched the dense smoke for a path to Daciana and then out.
She coughed sharply as she knelt to evade the suffocating grip of the smoke. The embers leaped and twisted in a vicious dance, lighting up the space. She crouched to look through the dense smoke, the bitter stench of the fire stinging her lungs.
