Once the clay pot exploded when the plant was placed inside, Alexa didn’t have enough time to hide near the biggest tree.

All she could do was duck and cover her head with her arms. Her dress, already thin, ripped easily when pierced by the flying debris.

She hissed in pain and stared at her wounds. They weren’t deep, but the blood still trickled down her arms. She sighed, wiped the blood away, and tied her arms to prevent further loss.

She grimaced at the mess her ...