Chapter 21 · He Shouldn't Be Alive

"Move!"

Ivy grabbed Leon's arm and hauled him off his feet as the floor buckled beneath them. Stone softened like wet clay, swallowing the heel of his boot.

"What the—"

"Run!"

Behind them, the core cracked. Black lines raced across the crystal, and cold slammed through the chamber hard enough to turn Ivy's breath white. The headmaster made a sound that was half curse, half sob.

Ivy didn't look back.

They hit the corridor at full speed. Portraits bled down the walls, paint sliding from their faces in red, watery streaks. Gas lamps died one after another behind them.

"Main hall," Leon said, fighting for breath. "If the collapse is spreading from the core—"

"The farthest point holds longest. I know."

"Should hold longest."

"Don't start."

The building groaned. Not metaphorically. The sound dragged through the stone like bones breaking underwater.

Plaster rained from the ceiling. A chunk the size of Ivy's fist smashed into the wall beside Leon's head.

"You call that holding?" he shouted.

"Keep moving!"

They rounded the next corner and nearly hit a knot of first-years crowding a sealed door. A girl with a braid caught Ivy's sleeve.

"The door was right here," she said.