wide man straining his sheepskin coat to reach his knife. The wide man stared slack-jawed at the thick smoke and didn’t notice. She slipped it out of the sheath and flipped it in her hand. The sharp blade sliced the rope and nicked her palm. She slipped the knife into her belt sheath. Too easy. Kit glanced around the man and saw the wall of fire that burned behind Evelyn. The sight of the fire spreading across the town shocked her. She felt every hair stand upright on her ears.
“Have you lost your mind, Evelyn?” Tera shook off the woman’s hand.
Kit tore her gaze from the conflagration. The street to the right leads back to the inn, if I remember right. Kit sidestepped a little further. She could make it if she ran. Her eyes burned from the smoke, and hot wind slapped at her. Children coughed. The people around Evelyn stood their ground, ignoring the fire that licked its chops like some great dog.
“We need to rebuild, Sister,” a grimy man said. “The Prophetess is right. We have to start anew. God burns out our sins with illness. We have to burn out the town.”
Kit inched to the right. She waved at Vyrin with one hand when he looked again. He returned to watching the nun. Silly boy didn’t even notice my hands were free.
The nun looked at the people who had now fanned across the plaza to avoid the flames that reached across the cobblestones. Kit had to get away before the fire touched the patches of grass breaking the cobblestones. It wouldn’t take much time for the fire to hop across those patches.
“The days of sinful festivals are over.” Evelyn announced with a voice that carried. “Clean. Now we can all be clean. Go, clean this house of God.” She pointed.
Evelyn’s people swarmed the church grounds. They raced across the plaza and through the town of tombs. People around Kit started to flee. Adults swept up children and ran away from their torch-bearing neighbors. Kit darted away with them. The men guarding her tried to stop the flow of Evelyn’s people with pleas and fists, but numbers overwhelmed them. The human tide crashed up the stairs and through the open church doors.
Kit raced past a gnarled tree just as it ignited from a thrown torch. People’s screams mingled with the sounds of the conflagration’s gluttony. She coughed and ran away from the plaza. All around her, orange and red lapped at the windows. A man laughed as he smashed a window and threw in his torch. The heat made Kit’s tail hairs curl beneath her skirts. She leaped over a woman who crawled out of a doorway billowing smoke. The woman pleaded for help.
Kit ignored her and ran.
She couldn’t save everyone. There was only one person she could save. There was one person she would save even if she had to singe her tail doing it.
Chapter 7
Timothy dipped the ink nib and finished copying the sentence. His handwriting was not as graceful as Aunt Mae’s, but it would have to do. He reached for his teacup. It was empty, and he frowned into it. His throat was as dry as the parchment that drank his ink. Sighing, he hefted the teapot, but even that was empty. He stood and stretched, back popping from long hours hunched over the desk. As much as he grumbled about his work, it had allowed them to buy the house on the edge of town. The house had a nice garden, and it was far enough away to be private but also not far enough from town to be a hassle. Kit liked the house, and he liked the house because she liked it. She kept talking about children. He felt his face flush at the thought. He wasn’t even sure if they could have children. One thing at a time. First, they had to be properly married.
She didn’t want a ring, of course. She had just about torn his head off at the idea. Foxes don’t wear rings! Foxes are free, and rings are a human sign of possession. Well, he figured a necklace should work. It would lie close to her heart. He laughed. She would bruise his shins at that thought. He paused as the flush left his
“Have you lost your mind, Evelyn?” Tera shook off the woman’s hand.
Kit tore her gaze from the conflagration. The street to the right leads back to the inn, if I remember right. Kit sidestepped a little further. She could make it if she ran. Her eyes burned from the smoke, and hot wind slapped at her. Children coughed. The people around Evelyn stood their ground, ignoring the fire that licked its chops like some great dog.
“We need to rebuild, Sister,” a grimy man said. “The Prophetess is right. We have to start anew. God burns out our sins with illness. We have to burn out the town.”
Kit inched to the right. She waved at Vyrin with one hand when he looked again. He returned to watching the nun. Silly boy didn’t even notice my hands were free.
The nun looked at the people who had now fanned across the plaza to avoid the flames that reached across the cobblestones. Kit had to get away before the fire touched the patches of grass breaking the cobblestones. It wouldn’t take much time for the fire to hop across those patches.
“The days of sinful festivals are over.” Evelyn announced with a voice that carried. “Clean. Now we can all be clean. Go, clean this house of God.” She pointed.
Evelyn’s people swarmed the church grounds. They raced across the plaza and through the town of tombs. People around Kit started to flee. Adults swept up children and ran away from their torch-bearing neighbors. Kit darted away with them. The men guarding her tried to stop the flow of Evelyn’s people with pleas and fists, but numbers overwhelmed them. The human tide crashed up the stairs and through the open church doors.
Kit raced past a gnarled tree just as it ignited from a thrown torch. People’s screams mingled with the sounds of the conflagration’s gluttony. She coughed and ran away from the plaza. All around her, orange and red lapped at the windows. A man laughed as he smashed a window and threw in his torch. The heat made Kit’s tail hairs curl beneath her skirts. She leaped over a woman who crawled out of a doorway billowing smoke. The woman pleaded for help.
Kit ignored her and ran.
She couldn’t save everyone. There was only one person she could save. There was one person she would save even if she had to singe her tail doing it.
Chapter 7
Timothy dipped the ink nib and finished copying the sentence. His handwriting was not as graceful as Aunt Mae’s, but it would have to do. He reached for his teacup. It was empty, and he frowned into it. His throat was as dry as the parchment that drank his ink. Sighing, he hefted the teapot, but even that was empty. He stood and stretched, back popping from long hours hunched over the desk. As much as he grumbled about his work, it had allowed them to buy the house on the edge of town. The house had a nice garden, and it was far enough away to be private but also not far enough from town to be a hassle. Kit liked the house, and he liked the house because she liked it. She kept talking about children. He felt his face flush at the thought. He wasn’t even sure if they could have children. One thing at a time. First, they had to be properly married.
She didn’t want a ring, of course. She had just about torn his head off at the idea. Foxes don’t wear rings! Foxes are free, and rings are a human sign of possession. Well, he figured a necklace should work. It would lie close to her heart. He laughed. She would bruise his shins at that thought. He paused as the flush left his
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