Gasping, I tried to stop my dress from falling over my head and revealing my underpants. I wanted to have a certain amount of dignity when I was discovered by the person who had set up the booby-trap.
I did not have the physical strength in my upper-body to hoist myself up and disentangle my foot from the rope that held me, though I could tell that the rope was invisible. I could feel it around my ankle, yet I could not see it.
With the blood rushing to my head, it was extremely difficult to think my way out of this situation.
Panting, I tried to swing my body from side to side, in the hopes of grasping the door frame. I wasn’t sure what good it would do, but it was worth a shot. I could have called for Hawthorne, but I did not want to make my presence more obvious than it already was.
I threw my weight to the side, my outstretched fingers grasping only air. I tried again, getting closer this time. Swinging absurdly, I managed to gain enough momentum to grasp the door frame and hold myself against it.
Sweating and panting, I attempted to crawl my way up the door frame, using nothing but the strength in my arms. My biceps screamed with the effort it took, and I knew it would be useless.
It was hopeless. I was not strong enough.
I dangled for a minute, trying to gather my thoughts. It was extremely difficult when my head felt as though it weighed a ton because of all the blood that had rushed to it.
A thought occurred to me. Assuming it was rope wrapped around my ankle, it should be flammable. Just because I couldn’t see it, didn’t mean it wasn’t really there. Right?
I positioned myself with palms facing outwards, feeling the fire course through my veins. The flames surged, spilling from me like molten lava, igniting my dress and my shoes, but, of course, it did not burn me.
The invisible rope was set alight, though it was a few moments before it began to give way. I felt it drop me by a fraction, bringing my head closer to the ground. I watched as the fire seemed to burn through thin air.
Inch by inch, the rope began to give way, until I was dropped onto my head with a loud crash.
Groaning, I sat up and rubbed my skull. This was the second blow to the head I’d sustained within a matter of hours.
‘So, you’re a Fire-Mage then?’ said an amused voice.
Jumping violently, I swiveled around to see who had spoken.
A large, muscular man in his late twenties leaned against the door frame that led to my kitchen. He had tanned skin, messy hair, and an unshaven face. It looked as though he spent a lot of time outdoors, and he had the attire to match.
‘Who are you?’ I said at once. ‘Get out of my house!’
He twirled a small dagger in his hands before using the pointed end to pick something out from underneath his fingernails.
‘I don’t think this is a very safe place for you,’ he said, inspecting his nails lazily. He had a strange accent, one I had not encountered before.
‘You’ve stepped into a Fire-Mage’s house,’ I said with as much venom as I could muster. ‘My family will be home any minute now-’
‘No, they won’t,’ he interrupted.
My bluff had been obvious, though it was worth a shot.
‘How do you know?’ I asked.
‘Because I saw them pack up and leave last night,’ he said. I could not detect a lie in his voice. Perhaps I wanted to believe him, because if what he said were true, that meant that my family had managed to leave the house unharmed.
‘Look, if you don’t leave right now-’ I began.
‘You’ll what? Set me on fire? Sweetheart, I could have this dagger in your throat before you can conjure a single flame.’
He twisted the dagger between his fingers, the shiny blade glinting menacingly.
‘Why didn’t you do it while I was hanging upside down in your trap?’
‘Not my trap,’ he said. ‘A man from the village set it up last night. I expect he will be here to check it soon.’
I was still on the floor. Slowly, I shifted my legs beneath me to try and get better leverage. If I sprang into action, it might catch him by surprise. I could race for Hawthorne and be in the air before he managed to throw that dagger at me. The chances of success were unlikely, but what other choice did I have? My only other option was to talk my way out of this situation.
‘You don’t have to do this.’ I tried to fix my face into an expression he might sympathize with. ‘Please.’
As an emotional person, it was rather easy for me to pretend to cry. With wide eyes, and a trembling lip, I hoped he might let me go.
‘Please.’ He rolled his eyes. ‘Don’t try that crap on me, kid.’
‘You’ve got me all wrong, I swear.’
‘The Realm doesn’t issue an arrest warrant for just anyone, you know?’
I needed a new angle. Clearly, he was not a sympathetic man.
‘You’re not from around here, are you?’ I asked quickly.
He grinned. ‘That obvious is it, Sweetheart?’
I shifted my body into a crouching position and was glad when he did not retaliate.
‘W-where are you from?’
‘You wouldn’t know it,’ he said, tapping the handle of the dagger against his palm. I could see he was growing tired of conversation.