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Heath couldn’t sleep. He kept replaying the events of the day as he listened to the breathing of the others in the room with him. He was waiting for Frayne to start his gentle snoring, but Frayne remained silent. He wasn’t tossing and turning like Heath was trying not to do, so Heath assumed him asleep.
Frayne was still his brother. He was certain of the fact, with everything he had; he would step before a sword for him. Frayne had looked after him so well over the years. Yet once he’d learned who he was, Heath had learned he wasn’t the brother he’d thought.
Heath was disappointed and hurt, yet it didn’t change a thing.
He was also too acutely aware of the women in the room. It wasn’t as though he hadn’t lived with a woman before, but that had been his mother; he hadn’t been exposed to other women in such a way. Watching Grace wash was mesmerising. Although he had tried not to stare, he couldn’t take his eyes from her gentle, rhythmic movements. Nelda confused him completely.
Frayne was too watchful of her. Too kind in some ways. It was Heath, after all, who had wanted to ensure she was safe and needed to follow her into the woods. Frayne had only followed because of Heath, to keep him safe—or at least that was what Heath had thought. But there was something else between them. They had not met before, and yet Frayne continued to insist that he knew her, that there was something familiar in the older woman who had made his mother fume and his father blush.
Nelda had claimed there was nothing between her and his father. She had known him and thought he had died in the fire so long ago. In some way, he was sure she felt responsible, whether she had started the fire or not. She had lived with so much guilt for so long. He felt sorry that she’d had to live that way. The tavern was a relief in some ways, protected from the weather and providing a soft bed. A good meal might have been nice. His stomach had protested going to bed hungry.
Grace had smiled so brightly when she’d twirled in the new dress, her bare feet still dusty but moving easily beneath it. Heath wanted to lose himself to the memory, but something scratched at the wall. He wondered if there were mice or if it was something else distracting him from his thoughts of her.
A glow emanated from beneath the door, and the moonlight seemed to highlight the whole window through the thin curtains. In the dim light, Frayne sat up in the bed beside him. The faint smell of smoke reached him. Had the candle been relit and then blown out?
He was sure someone else was moving around the room. “Nelda?” he whispered, trying to keep his voice low.
“Shh,” she returned, or at least someone did. “Put your boots on.”
“What is it?” he asked, but he knew.
Grace started to cough, and Nelda was murmuring something. Frayne pulled at the curtains covering the window, then jumped back. Heath was going to ask what he had seen when something smashed the glass.
Panic rose in Heath’s chest. They were trapped. They had been found. And as he moved carefully towards the door, he realised that the smoke moving in from underneath it wasn’t just a way to flush them out. “They are trying to kill us,” he said.
“Yes,” Nelda agreed, far too calmly. “It appears our family story was not believed.”
“Or the cardinal found us and is willing to sacrifice a tavern full of people to reach us,” Frayne said, standing beside the window, his back against the wall. “I can’t feel a way out of this.”
“You were the one to lead us south,” Heath returned, trying not to sound accusatory. He trusted Frayne to lead them in the right direction, but he wasn’t sure it was for the right reasons. Frayne was distracted. Not as Heath was by the beautiful blonde woman, but by who and what he was.
“We have to get out of the flames,” Grace said, her voice too high, her usual calm gone.
“I don’t know how,” Nelda said.
“What if they are waiting on the other side of the door?” Heath asked. They weren’t going to start a fire and walk away. They would be waiting either for them to try and escape or to ensure they died in the flames. Nelda wouldn’t. “You have a way with fire,” he said, standing too close behind her.
She nodded and then shook her head.
“You can find a way,” he said.
“You seem very sure of that,” she replied, her focus on the door. “I’m not.” She turned in the tight space and rested her hands on his arms. It was odd being so close, and yet her contact was calming. “I don’t know what I have,” she said, her voice low. “I’ve fought it for too long.”
“Try,” Heath said. “I trust you.”
“You trusted Frayne.”
“I still do. There is a reason we are here—something in him understands that, even if I don’t. And he trusts you.”
Grace pulled at Nelda and then Heath. Her fear palpable as she held tight to Heath. Part of him was pleased that she had finally noticed he was there, but her fear scared him more. “Nelda,” she said, her voice strained. “You have to focus on the flames. Call them, instruct them.”
“Not to come inside,” Heath pleaded.
“No—to do as they are told and hide, or pull away, or something to allow us a way to get out.”
“They are going to be waiting,” Frayne said, and Heath realised they were all standing in a tight circle in the middle of the room.
“I can’t die like this,” Grace whimpered. Heath closed his arm around her. She had escaped the flames before, but only to be of use to the cardinal. He wasn’t sure what the man would do if he managed to get hold of her again.
“What if we separate?” Heath asked. “We could distract them, and you could run.”
“They will know we are together,” Frayne said.
“There must be a way,” Heath said. “We haven’t come this far to be lost to them again.”
“And who would be lost?” Grace asked, anger in her voice as she shoved him.
“You will die,” he said, as though she didn’t understand. They all understood just what was at risk if they were caught. And it wouldn’t take much to work out that he and Frayne had started the fire and rescued the girl at the camp. Only they wouldn’t see it as such. They would see it as rescuing a witch, and that would likely get them burned along with her.
As it was, they were trying to burn them now. His mind was racing, and none of it was making any sense. A strong hand landed on his shoulder, and he took a deep breath.
“Try it,” Frayne said. He reached past Heath and rested the other hand on Nelda’s shoulder.
She stood too still, not answering him. Heath was about to prompt her when Frayne squeezed his shoulder. “Wait,” he whispered. The light coming from beneath the door dimmed, if only a little. Someone cried out on the other side of the door. It was only then that he realised it was too quiet. He wondered if they had evacuated the building before setting it alight. What sort of compensation would have tempted Thomas and his wife out?
Something creaked above them and, despite his best efforts, he flinched and looked up. But he saw nothing. In the near dark, it was too hard to see. And then a blinding light flew through the window, lighting up the room, and Grace threw herself at him. As his eyes adjusted to the new light, he realised it was a torch. It flickered oddly in the middle of the floor, almost like a candle flame, but the fire didn’t spread.
Frayne and Nelda remained unmoving. He could hear constant yelling from outside the window, but he couldn’t make out what they were saying. It was all noise, and the creaking from above increased.
“Nelda,” he whispered.
“Hmm,” was her gentle reply, like his mother when he asked a question while she was sewing.
“It is coming,” he continued, his voice low.
“No,” she said, her voice distracted. “It is seeking others.”
Grace’s arms relaxed a little around him, and she looked around the room. “Can we leave?” she asked.
“Not yet,” Frayne murmured, his focus solely on Nelda. Heath wondered what feeling his brother had this time about where they should go.
Nelda blew out softly, and the torch flame burning in the middle of the room reduced. Something banged loudly at the door. Heath jumped, and Grace’s arms tightened around him.
“If they come, we will die,” Frayne whispered, showing none of the fear Heath thought such words should evoke.
“Nelda,” Heath said, leaning forward. “You have to get us out.”
Something again creaked above them. He chanced to look up, worried the ceiling would fall and crush them before the soldiers surrounding them had a chance to storm the building and kill them. A flame appeared through a crack in the ceiling. Heath was lost to the beautiful movement as it twisted and looked about like a small creature. Brilliant oranges and reds, and then it was as though it looked at him and slithered forward, a flame without a fire.
It moved along the beam above his head and dropped without warning. Lost in the beauty of the creature, he forgot that it was fire and put his hand out to catch it. Nelda’s hand was there just before his. When he looked at it in her hand, and then at her face, she was smiling at him. The creature wound around her fingers and then was lost inside the sleeve of her dress. The world looked too dark now that the brilliant creature didn’t have his attention. He blinked.
“Grab the torch,” Nelda said, pulling at Grace, and Heath moved quickly across the room to pick it up.
“Are we going to...” His voice trailed off as he looked back to see they had already gone. “You can’t leave me here!” he cried, fear engulfing him.
“As if we would,” Frayne’s voice whispered. Then he stepped from the hazy light and took Heath’s hand. As Frayne pulled him closer, he could see that the others hadn’t moved at all. He was tempted to step back and look again at the wonder. He sighed as Grace threaded her arm around his, and the door flew open.
He held tight to Frayne’s hand, and Grace held tight to him in return as he stared at the angry features of the soldier in his silver armour. It was so shiny, Heath was sure he could nearly see his own reflection in it, and yet it didn’t even reflect the light. The soldier stepped forward. Despite drawing his sword, he didn’t appear to even realise they were right in front of him. Then he was being dragged forward towards the open door.
Smoke and flames filled the hallway beyond. Heath covered his mouth, trying not to cough. He could see more silver armour sparkling through the flames. He wasn’t sure if it was the sound of the fire, but he was sure he could hear singing.