The fire spread faster than Kael expected. Dry timber, old bedding, broken furniture, and spilled oil caught in quick succession, feeding flames that climbed the wooden supports and spread along the ceiling. Within minutes, black smoke rolled above the cells, and the nearest prisoners began coughing.
"Those who can walk, help those who can't," Kael called through the Tongue of Gods. "Get them into the passage. We need to leave now."
Several captives obeyed immediately. Others remained inside their open cells, staring at the doors as though they expected someone to punish them for approaching. Kael had no time to convince them gently. He entered the nearest enclosure, crouched beside a badly injured man, and lifted him over one shoulder.
The man weighed almost nothing. Kael could feel his ribs through the remains of his shirt.
