Page 162 of Fires of the Forsaken
Now it felt like acid was burning a hole in my gut.
I knew her pain well. The fear and isolation of being unable to doanythingwhile a loved one perished. Sometimes I swore it was better to be the one burning alive. Because that excruciating pain had an end. But surviving a fire, and watching someone else die, was an agony that lingered forever.
“Blake!” Cheriour galloped down the castle steps, shouting instructions. “I need you to organize a group and go to the eastern side of the wall,” Cheriour told the tall man. “Donotlet them pass through—force her army to the main entrance. Mollie! You do the same with the western side…”
He turned his back to me. Because he’d already given me my order:run.
But how could I?
Hundreds,thousands, would die tonight. These weregoodpeople. Brave people, willing to fight even when they had no hope of winning. Because their sacrifice would (maybe) allow others to live.
Meanwhile, I was gonna run? To save my own ass? Was I really that selfish?
“I suppose this is goodbye, then.” Belanna rushed by me, securing her bow to her back with short, jerky movements. “It was nice to have met ye, Addie,” she said as she hopped down the rest of the stairs.
“Belanna!” Cheriour spun to face her. “I need you and the rest of the archers to stay back. It’s too late for you to be on the wall—”
With an earth-rumbling groan, a nearby building collapsed. It’d been a three-floor house. The sounds of terror from the people still inside were swallowed up in the rest of the pandemonium.
Fire destroyed everyone and everything.
Except me.
And I suddenly knew what I had to do, even if the notion scared me shitless.
“Oh fuck it all to fucking hell,” I hissed as I stormed down the steps.
“We’ve done this before. None of you are novices!” Cheriour continued calling commands to the group of stoic, but frightened soldiers in front of him. “Anyone with a polearm needs to bein front.Addie—that does not include you. Addie!”
I steamrolled past him, marching toward the first house in the city.
How fireproof was I?
A bonfire had been one thing. But could I walk into a burning building, with no protection, and emerge unscathed?
Only one way to find out, right?
Don’tpukedon’tpukedon’tpuke.
My stomach crawled up my throat as I unsheathed my poleaxe and barrel-rammed it into the door. It took only two hits for the charred wood to give way.
Flames billowed around me, dancing across my skin. Smoke tickled my nostrils. But I didn’t burn. Or choke. Actually, breathing seemed easier now. Like the vapor nourished my lungs, rather than damaged them.
I moved further into the house, watching as tongues of fire creepy-crawled up the walls and across the floor.
“Hello!” I yelled. “Is anyone in here?”
For a few seconds, the only response was the low hiss and pop of disintegrating wood.
But then someone started hacking up a lung.
I turned. A man crawled on his hands and knees toward me.
“Hey! I’m here!” I ran to him, using my poleaxe to knock debris out of my way. “I’ve got ya, buddy. Hold on.” The man yelled when I grabbed him beneath his armpits and hauled. He gagged once, twice, vomiting all down his front.
I gulped to keep my stomach in place. “You’re alright, buddy,” I said as I hefted him toward the door. “Just a little more…yeah, keep coughing,” I added when he sputtered. “You inhaled a shit ton of smoke. Gotta hock it all up. Ah, look at that! We’re already at the doorway. You’re gonna be okay. Some cool compresses and aloe vera’ll work wonders for those burns.”
Out the door we went, the man going limp as I pulled him to the center of the street.“C’mon, dude.” I released his arms and hit his cheeks, hard, until his red, teary eyes opened. “You’re safe! Don’t die on me now—”
