Chapter 11 - The Ash and the Ledger
The heat in the lower hall was blistering. The ancient tapestries had caught fire, turning into billowing curtains of orange and black that scorched the walls. Julian shielded his eyes with his forearm, his lungs burning with every shallow breath.
"Victoria!" he bellowed into the roaring haze.
"Julian! Help me!" Her voice was faint, coming from beneath a heavy mahogany beam that had collapsed across the dining room doorway.
Julian scrambled over the burning debris, his shoes smoking as he crossed the charred runner. Victoria was pinned beneath the timber, her fine cream blouse covered in black ash, her face smudged and tear-stained. Beside her lay the silver briefcase from Julian's private safe—she hadn't tried to escape; she had stayed behind to grab the bearer bonds.
"Help me lift it!" she wept, her manicured fingers clawing at the burning wood. "Julian, please! I can't breathe!"
Julian gripped the unburned end of the heavy beam. The heat seared through his palms, the smell of burning skin sharp and sickening, but he gritted his teeth and heaved upward with all his strength. With a agonizing groan of wood, the beam shifted four inches—enough for Victoria to drag her legs free.
She scrambled out from under the wreckage, clutching the silver briefcase to her chest like an infant.
"Drop the case, Victoria!" Julian coughed, dragging her toward the shattered French doors that led to the garden terrace. "Drop it or we won't make it!"
"No! This is everything I have left!" she screamed, her eyes wild with madness.
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A sudden deafening crack echoed above them. The central chandelier—tons of crystal and iron—groaned as its ceiling anchor melted. Julian lunged forward, shoving Victoria violently through the broken French doors onto the wet grass outside.
He tried to follow, but the chandelier plummeted. A wall of falling iron and shattered crystal crashed down between them, slamming Julian back into the burning room, sealing the exit completely.
