Chronicles of the Overworld Book 1 — Nihal of the Land of the Wind by Licia Troisi

was a lifeless chaos. It already tasted of death. The yells of men, women, and children rose over one another, a furious river that smashed against the walls and dragged along everything in its path.
    Of course, some urged calm. Others gathered together those who knew how to fight and tried to organize some sort of resistance. But the truth was that there was no way out. There was nothing they could try, no means of defense, nothing to be done. Years before, Darnel had put his army at the service of the Tyrant. What could the inhabitants of Salazar—the refugees from other lands and the men who’d fled the cruelty of combat—do now? Die with honor as they sought to defend themselves? What was the point, if they were bound to die no matter what?
    That was why everyone ended up seeking his or her own improbable salvation in an impossible flight. In the meantime, the army devoured the plains with incredible speed and reached the city walls.
    Terror filled the tower. Screaming women clutched their children, men threw themselves out the windows into the void, and a few courageous souls, weapons in hand, made their way through the crazed masses.

    Nihal wanted to get to Livon. They must escape together. She knew all the hidden routes out of Salazar; she’d played in them since she was a little girl. They would find a way out. Yes, they’d save themselves. There was no need to be afraid. She had to keep a cool head. She had to concentrate.
    The shop wasn’t far now, but Nihal was at the mercy of the crowd. She heard the army hollering across the walls and then, a few moments later, the blows of the battering ram against Salazar’s main gate.
    There’s no way out
, she thought to herself, but then she chased the thought away with all the power in her soul and went on, hemmed in by dozens of bodies.
    A blow. Another blow.
    Just a little more. I see the sign. Made it!
    She heard the sound of something crashing to the ground. The city gate had given way.
    The ancient wood of the gate splintered.
    With ferocious yells, the Tyrant’s soldiers poured into Salazar.
    Nihal burst into the shop. “Pop! We have to get out of here! Let’s go! Quick!”
    Livon, who had already thrown together a bundle of clothes, was busy gathering up swords. He glanced at Nihal and went toward the back of the shop.
    “Wait. We have to find something to cover you. I’ll get a cloak.”
    “What are you talking about? Let’s get out of here! Hurry!”
    “They mustn’t see you, Nihal.”
    Nihal started yelling. “There’s no time! Don’t you understand? We have to get out of here and hide!”
    “You’re the one who doesn’t understand. If they see you, it’s over! They’ll kill you!”
    Outside they heard yells, coarse laughter and guttural, inhuman sounds. The soldiers were swarming through the city.
    Nihal didn’t know what to do. Livon wasn’t making any sense. She had to stop him. She threw herself at him and tried to drag him toward the door. “Come on, dammit! Come on!”
    Too late. The door opened with a crash.
    Two monstrous creatures appeared in the threshold. Long, curving fangs jutted upward from their jaws. Their bodies were entirely covered with prickly reddish hairs. Their hands and feet were identical: four long digits armed with long talons. The first clutched an axe, the other a crude, enormous sword. Their voices seemed to come straight from hell.
    “Well, look here, what a surprise! An old man and a half-elf. How is it that you’re still alive, half breed?”
    Nihal wasn’t listening. All her senses were primed for the attack. She put her hand on her sword. She prepared to throw herself at the Fammin, but Livon grabbed her by an arm, lifted her of the ground, and threw her to one side.
    Nihal hit her head when she fell. For a moment, she thought she might lose consciousness. Everything was dark. She heard clanging blades as if from a distance. When she opened her eyes again, she saw that Livon was attempting to hold