A/N: I tried to write this quickly, since I left chapter one at a cliffhanger. Please, bear with me if it's not wonderful.

Disclaimer: No flames allowed . . . oh, wait. That's not the disclaimer! Firestorm doestn't own Lord of the . . . Hold on, hold on. My brain must be messed up from all the typing I've done today. :) Alexandra, why don't you do the disclaimer? Your author's brain isn't working.

Alexandra: Fine. Firestorm doesn't own Wizard101. Any and all people, places and things belong to KingsIsle, with the exception of her O.C.'s and her ideas. Happy now?

Firestorm: Very. :)

Thanks to my beta reader, Dylexia! :)

Brooke coughed hard, swatting aside the smoke and dust. Where would her mother be? Where would Calder and Cassie be? Probably in their bedrooms. She dropped to the ground and started crawling, taking deep, gasping breaths of whatever fresh air was left. Through the living room, turn left, down the hallway, hit the stairs. Easy. Getting to the stairs would be step one. She crawled, each movement a strain on her exhausted, smoke filled body, each breath taking more energy than it provided for her. Brooke raised her head feebly, trying to see where she was. Luckily, she was almost to the hallway, where she would have to turn. Three more pulls . . . two more . . . one more . . . there. Now she could rest . . . NO! No resting, Brooke! You have to find Mommy! Brooke slowly turned on her stomach, and then began inching forwards painstakingly. Come on. Count the pulls it takes. One. Two. Three. She paused for a second, wheezing, and then continued. Four. Five. Six. Had to find Mommy . . . Nine. Ten. Eleven. Twelve. At pull thirteen, she hit the stairs headfirst, and the blow made stars ringed her already blurry vision. She spared herself a short rest. Count to ten, Brooke. After ten, you have to go up. One. Two. Three. Four . . . five . . six . . . want to sleep . . . seven . . . eight . . . going to sleep . . . nine . . . WAKE UP! She jerked her head up. Sleeping wouldn't help anyone. She had to get up the stairs, and then she could figure out where to go. She began climbing on her stomach. There were twenty steps to the second floor. Twenty. Each step was harder and harder, more smoke pouring into her lungs with each breath. Brooke coughed harder. Her eyes burned, her throat burned, everything was so hot . . . why? Why did the Dragons have to do this to her?

"Mommy," she tried to call, but all that came out was a painful rasping sound. She shook her head and kept climbing, counting each step. Almost there . . . only two steps to go . . . one step to go . . . she reached up for the next step, and all she felt was floor, lovely, flat floor. In spite of the pain and the heat, Brooke smiled. Almost there, Mommy. The next step would be to get to her mother's room, or to Calder and Cassie's. The smoke was muddling her thoughts, but she remembered where the rooms were. Calder and Cassie slept in the first room. She would help them first. It wasn't far to their room, only about eight steps. That would be . . . about ten crawls? Maybe 11. She decided to count again. It didn't take long for her to give up. Counting took too much effort. She decided that she would never count again.

Nearly a full moment later, when Brooke raised her head a fraction of an inch, she could see her siblings' door right in front of her. Her nose was almost bumping into it. With extreme difficulty, she hauled herself upwards, using the wall to support herself. The dizziness and nausea that overtook her in waves was overpowering, and she retched. Slowly, painstakingly, she turned the doorknob, and she collapsed on the ground as the door swung open. She heard a soft moan, and there was a raspy cough from the other side of the room. She dragged herself forwards. She could see and arm hanging down from one of the beds, and she headed for it. After pulling herself up onto the bed, she tried to focus on the person in the bed. It was Calder. He moaned again, his eyes bleary and unfocused.

"Brooky . . ." he whispered.

"Calder, you have to come with me. I can *cough* get you outside." He didn't move. "Calder!"

"Brooky-go. You be safe. Too-COUGH late. Go be safe," the boy wheezed, smoke spilling from his mouth.

"No, Calder! Come with me! We'll all be safe, you and me and Mommy and Daddy and Cassie!" Calder didn't respond. "Come on, Calder! You can do it! Just get on the floor with me, and I'll bring you outside!" Frantically, Brooke pulled on her brother's arm. He didn't move. She put a hand over his mouth and nose. No breath tickled her palm. "Calder," she sobbed, hugging the four year old's arm. She never wanted to leave. She wanted to curl up and die with Calder, but she couldn't leave Cassie. Cassie was near the window; maybe she'd gotten some more air, and she'd be easier to get out of the house. Brooke glanced at Calder's pale face once more, kissed him on the cheek, and turned away.

Seeing the death of her brother had taken a huge toll on her, and she was practically falling asleep where she crouched on the floor. She had to help Cassie before she could sleep, though. It was excruciatingly slow going, but she made it across the room in a minute and a half. Brooke knelt beside Cassie's bed in the same way she'd knelt by Calder's. Her sister's eyes were closed, but she was breathing, taking in harsh, rattling gasps of air. Her face was turned towards the slightly open window. Brooke climbed onto her sister's bed and pushed the window open slowly.

"Cassie! Wake up! I'm going to get you outside, okay? The Theurgists will help you." Her words did little to help the four year old, who seemed to have given up. "Cassie, I won't let you die on me, too! Come on! Wake up!" Slowly, the girl's eyes worked their way open, blinking in confusion.

"Brooky? Are you an angel? Did you come to bring me to the Tritons?"

"No, Cassie! You're still alive! I have to get you outside, and then the Theurgists will help you!"

"Where's Calder? Where's Mommy and Daddy?" Brooke knew better than to tell her sister something so awful, so she lied.

"They're outside. Go on, climb onto the roof. When you can, scream really, really loud, okay? One of the Theurgists is waiting to hear you, and when they do, they'll get you down. Don't forget to scream, 'I'm on the roof!' Got it?" Cascade nodded, sitting up slowly. She crawled slowly out the window and knelt there, taking deep breaths of air and coughing out smoke. Brooke allowed herself two breaths before crawling back out of the room. The only one left to find was Mommy. Find Mommy, and you can get out of the house, she thought. She winced as she heard a scream. It must have been Cassie, screaming to the Theurgists like she'd been told. When there was no second scream, Brooke assumed that she'd already been spotted. Good. One person was helped. Now she just had to help her mother. She crawled down the hallway, pausing every now and then to breathe. For some reason, the air seemed to be getting hotter and hotter. Why was that, she wondered. She got her answer a second later: the flames were in between her and her mother's bedroom door.

Brooke stared at the flames in dismay and horror. The bright orange and gold tendrils were hungrily devouring the soft carpet and the pretty blue wallpaper. She swallowed her fears, pushed aside her pain, and whispered,

"Mommy, I will find you, no matter what it takes!" She took one last deep gulp of air, held her breath, and stood. She squinted against the fire, pinpointed the door, and ran straight into the flames.

CRACK!

The floor collapsed when she was inches from the doorknob. Brooke threw carefulness to the wind and screamed. She howled as loud as she could, not caring how much smoke was entering her lungs. Her brother was dead, her parents might be dead, her house was burning to the ground, her lungs were full of smoke, and she was on fire, literally. The flames were now attached to her pajamas, her hair, her skin, everything they could reach. They were working their way through her, bit by bit. The fire would kill her. She knew it then, as she smashed into the ground, searing, burning pain attacking her entire body. Her eyes stung and she couldn't breathe. There were dozens of splinters driven into her body and clothes, both of which were burning. Brooke started to sob. She was dying; at least Cassie and her father had escaped. She would get to see Calder again. She would . . . she would . . . she would . . .

As the darkness and pain and exhaustion overcame her mind, smashing through her defenses like a rock through water, she screamed out two words:

"I'M SORRY!"

A/N: I am so very, very evil. Yet another cliffhanger. Just as a note, pictures of Brooke, Calder, Cascade and thier parents will be on my picture website at some point soon. The link is on my profile, if you're interested.