It is odd to think back on it now, but in my memory there is no boom or bang to accompany the eruption—rather the sudden, deafening absence of sound. The blast knocked me flat against the ground and sent Jackaby flying over my head to slam into the opposite wall of the trench. He nearly tumbled beyond it, but managed to half fall, half pull himself down into the furrow beside Hank Hudson. Several seconds after the initial blast, in the deadened silence of the aftershock, we began to feel the heat.
I have never before, nor ever since, seen a fire like that dragon’s flame. When I was young, I used to clamber into bed while the maid was laying out the linens. She would hold the ends of a bedsheet and toss it high in the air, letting it slowly drift down on top of me. The fire hung in the air like that sheet, rippling and billowing, and then settling gradually downward with surreal gentleness to blanket the landscape. It moved constantly, hypnotically, folding together ruby reds and brilliant oranges. Flickering white wisps shot past eddies of fluid gold as the undulating sheet descended.
I lay in the dust, stupefied as the bright, spreading expanse draped toward us. Whether from the pressing heat or the blinding light, my eyes snapped shut. I held my arms out in front of my face instinctively, waiting for the searing wave of flames to land. The heat intensified for what felt like an eternity, but then abated, easing into a dull warmth without the sting of a burn. I opened my eyes.
For a moment I could not understand what I was seeing. Above me hung a young woman with a golden complexion. Her long brown hair had slipped free from a loose bun, hanging disheveled about her temples. Her face was smudged with dirt, and a dark gash ran along one cheek. The image repeated in scores of long mirrors, like a shattered-looking glass. I blinked, realizing that the face was my own, and refocused my eyes. Rosie’s golden wing stretched over me, sparkling in the dancing light of the flames.
To either side of us, the trench had become a wicked channel of fire, but already the flames were beginning to ebb. Whatever supernaturally volatile compound had fed the explosion, it was not eternal, and the licking tongues of flame found little purchase on the dusty earth. When they had died down to a shallow burn, Rosie pushed herself up and cocked her head at the crumpled body of Hank Hudson. He had been half buried in a cascade of dirt from the side of the furrow, but a faint wheeze escaped the trapper’s lips.
Satisfied, the golden bird lifted herself up and shook a spray of sparkling embers from her back. She hobbled unsteadily as she stepped away. Her foot had been injured in the fight, but with two great sweeping wing strokes, she launched herself gracefully into the darkness. I could not see well enough to tell if the sun was still setting or if the stars had come out. A dark curtain of smoke hung heavily above the dig site, and in just a few moments Rosie had vanished into the black as well.
Jackaby was the next to recover. “That,” he said sitting up, “was remarkably effective. Are you all right, Miss Rook?”
I nodded. “I think so, sir.” I pulled one leg free of the loose dirt that had slid over it and quickly patted down the hem of my dress where an ember was threatening to scorch its way to my legs.
“Did you anticipate the full combustive potential of that maneuver?” he asked.
“Maybe not on that scale,” I admitted, brushing off the dust and soot that had settled over my shirtwaist. “You said it was all dragon on the inside, but it didn’t have any of the instincts . . . which means it didn’t know about the flint. With all that natural fuel inside it, I figured it was like the flash powder—explosives just waiting for a spark.”
“Right. Brilliant. It never swallowed the flint for ignition.” Jackaby nodded. “And apparently it never learned to vent its reserves, either. Quick thinking, Miss Rook.” He stood, running a hand through his dark, tangled mess of hair as he took in the sight. “Damn,” he cursed. “I mean, I’m glad we’re alive and all that—to be honest I wasn’t sure how it might go for a bit, there. But still, it was one of a kind.”