The match hit the floor and everything went bad fast.
The oil caught with a sharp hiss. Flame shot along the corridor and licked the walls before anyone could react. Lyria jumped back, coughing as heat slapped her face. Kael swore and snatched the ledger up off the floor with one hand, shoving it against his chest.
"Move," he barked.
The storage room lit up orange in a blink. Crates smoked. The old grain sacks on the shelf started to curl at the edges. Someone in the hall shouted for water.
The hooded figure did not wait around to admire the fire. They turned and ran.
Kael lunged after them.
Lyria went too.
No hesitation now. No standing around wondering who it was or what they wanted. There was only the stupid, fast reality of trying not to get trapped in a burning corridor with the answer running away.
Mira grabbed Lyria's sleeve. "Stay close," she snapped.
