‘Are you doing anything?’ Reichis asked. ‘Because it just looks like you’re constipated.’
It turns out all those stories are lies. Or maybe you’re not the young Jan’Tep hero in the story. Maybe you’re the demon that gets destroyed.
The flames were spreading, slowly but surely, making their way around the wooden walls of the barn. Already my eyes were watering from the smoke. Blind panic overtook me and I ran back to the door and hurled myself against it over and over. I got nothing for my efforts but a shooting pain through my shoulder.
‘Hit it harder,’ the squirrel cat chittered.
‘I can’t,’ I said, gasping from the pain of my exertions. ‘I’m not strong enough to break the door.’
‘Then just—’
‘Shut up,’ I said, trying to concentrate. I focused all my attention on the door, looking for a weakness in it, finding none. The only weakness I could find was in myself. Reichis could see it too.
‘Damn it all,’ he chittered frantically. ‘If I was going to take on an idiot human as a business partner, why didn’t I pick Ra’meth? At least he has enough magic to dismiss a fire spell!’
My throat tightened under the growing strain of frustration and terror. ‘Well, if I’m going to die in this burning barn with nobody but a stupid nekhek to give my eulogy, I’d rather you found something nice to say.’
‘Well, let me see,’ Reichis growled back. ‘You’re weak, you’re a coward and you seem to be pretty much the only member of your race who doesn’t have any magic. But on the other hand …’
He stopped chittering. I glanced around to see what he was looking at, but all I saw were the burning walls. ‘What?’ I asked.
‘Nothing. I can’t think of one good thing about you, Kellen. You’re the most useless member of a useless species I’ve ever seen and now we’re going to die because of it.’
The flames crackled as they travelled up the wooden beams to the hay that was stored on the second level of the barn. Smoke was filling the room. Soon it would be hard to breathe. ‘I’m trying,’ I said, dragging first Shalla’s body and then Ferius’s to the water trough. I splashed some of the remaining water on each of them, not sure what good it would do but having no better ideas. I glanced around the barn again, searching for something, anything, that might help. If there had been enough horses I could’ve hoped that they might stampede and smash through the walls. All we had was Ferius’s horse though, and though it was growing more and more agitated, I knew it wouldn’t be enough. Sorry, whatever your name is. It’s not fair that you have to die without knowing the reason.
The heat was overwhelming and whatever moisture I had left in me was sweating out from every pore. We didn’t have much time. Unlike the horse, Reichis understood what was happening, but his instinctive fear of fire was making him frantic. He tried to climb one of the walls, but there was too much fire and smoke now. The squirrel cat made it halfway up before tumbling down to the ground, coughing and shaking. I felt a strange empathy for the little monster. As terrified as I was, it must be worse for an animal covered in fur, for whom fire wasn’t a normal part of life. I knelt down to try and pick him up. He bit me.
‘Get away from me, human,’ he growled. He got on his feet and shook himself. The shock of falling seemed to have brought him back. His eyes were a little clearer and he looked as if he’d mastered his fear. I wished I could say the same for myself.
‘I was trying to help,’ I said.
He looked up at me and gave a little snort. ‘If you’re going to cry, go do it over the torch. Maybe you can put it out that way.’
‘I’m not crying, damn it. I’m sweating from the heat.’
‘Sure.’
I moved to the centre of the barn where the smoke wasn’t as thick and reached into one of Ferius’s saddlebags, which were on the floor. I was looking for a cloth to wrap around my nose and mouth. What I found was the little pouch of red powder she’d shown me when she was painting her card. I rummaged around and found the pouch of black powder. Hells, I thought, remembering what she said about them exploding on contact with each other. No need to worry about burning to death. I’ll just blow us all up instead. I thought about tossing them to opposite sides of the room to keep them separated, but then had a better idea. Well, not a better one, but it was the best I had. I ran to the barn door.
‘What is it?’ Reichis asked, following behind me.
‘These powders. They make an explosion on contact with each other.’
‘What’s an explosion?’
I almost laughed. But when would a squirrel cat have ever seen anything explode? Careful to use only my left hand, I scooped out a small handful of black powder and dropped it by the door. Part of me expected it to catch fire right away, but it didn’t. Whatever it was made from stayed inert until it met with the opposing chemical. With my right hand I pulled out a small handful of the red powder. ‘Stay back,’ I said to Reichis. I took a few steps back myself and then tossed the red powder towards the black. They exploded in a small ball of flame and, just for a second, I felt a surge of hope that the door might give way. It didn’t.
‘Do it again,’ Reichis said. ‘Use more this time.’
‘I used half of each bag.’
‘Then—’
‘It doesn’t work that way,’ I shouted in frustration. ‘It needs to be contained somehow. It needs something to direct the force. Damn it, I can’t think!’
The horse had broken its tether and was now running around the barn in circles, futilely searching for an escape. The noise and the chaos were making it impossible for me to concentrate.
I shut my eyes tight and clamped my hands around my ears so that I could focus. I turned my thoughts back to the powders sitting in their pouches on the ground. The first try had accomplished nothing but to feed the flames even more. A second wouldn’t do any better. The powder is the answer. Somehow. I just need a way to control the explosion so it doesn’t dissipate. Why couldn’t you have broken the damned ember band? Only … what I needed wasn’t actually ember magic. That was for creating energy, not focusing it.
I removed my hands from my ears and looked down at them, my eyes fixating on the specks of powder stuck to my fingertips. Master Osia’phest had told me at the oasis that the carath spell didn’t generate wind; it channelled whatever force was at the precise point of the spell. If the only energy present was a light breeze, then it channelled that breeze in the direction of the spell. If something more powerful was present …
‘Reichis, I’ve got an—’