She tried to catch it with her bare hands, and her fingers dug into the crust and embers of burning, stiffened flesh. It crackled under her touch in a terrible way, flesh sloughing off the very bones it was driving towards her throat. Her own skin sizzled and blistered immediately, and she dropped it onto the moss, which steamed on impact.

“Embers!” the Archon shouted. “It’s Embers!”

That sounded like a title, and it ought to belong to something a little less horrifying. Fortunately it was only the size of a generous rat; she kicked it across the clearing, where it struck a tree and burst into various broken, burning pieces that still struggled, ember-eyes glaring up, burning teeth still scratching its way towards her, tooth mark by tooth mark in the soil.

“What the fuck are Embers?” Hawk said, looking at the dead little body smoking on the dirt.

“They’re creatures that Argon has infused with his power. He has power over Fire…and that includes things that are burning. He can see through their eyes. Act through their bones.”

Oh fuck. “He found us.” Hawk said.

“He found us, here. So I suggest leaving, and quickly.”

They didn’t have to be told twice. Hawk dropped her overrobes too, the others divested themselves of whatever extras they’d been carrying, and they booked it through the darkened forests. The goal was to put as much distance between themselves and their discovered camp. Hawk found herself with the Archon, leaving Em with Henry and Kaiser just ahead.

“So anything Argon burns, he can watch through?” Hawk said.

“Anything with eyes,” He said. “And they must be fully consumed by fire. It takes time. He likely used animals first—I’ll wager some of Earth Archon’s beloved little rabbits are pursuing us too—so that by the time his humans are ready—and by ready I mean fully charred, skin to bone—he has a target to send them to. We would do very well to put as much distance between us and where we’ve been seen as possible.”

“Because he’ll send the people?” Hawk said.

“Because he’ll send Fire. Some of it will be the people he has consumed as offertory. But mostly it will be Fire.”

And then the forest floor shifted and gained an incline. This was good, according to the Archon. The Temple of Light was always “uphill”, according to him. It seemed to be the center of their world. They dragged themselves onward, even as their calf muscles burned from the stress.

The first sign that things were still going wrong came in the form of more mice. All of them were burnt to cinders, little dead things inhabited by the soul of Argon’s fire. Ears that were mostly black char, tails that glowed with orange and red. They were voiceless; they breathed fire. They could not run as fast as Hawk and the others, but the Archon assured her this did not matter. It was their eyes she should fear, even in this condition—they were cooked, in one case popped open and lying on the poor creature’s cheeks—because Argon could see what they saw, feel what they felt. It was known, now, that they were running, and that the Archon was with them.

“I might be able to convince Nasheth you dragged me along by force,” he joked.

“Not a fucking chance,” Em said, helping him over a fallen log—black bark here was sloughing off, exposing hard, white wood—and giving him a bit of a push to keep him walking. “You’re one of us, dude. Besides, I wouldn’t leave one of the mice here alone. You’re cool, and I’m not interested in losing you.”

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

They kept moving up, following the typography according to the Archon, and kept avoiding the burning mice. It became useful to have one person checking behind them for small, lit eyes. When spotted, the group would move in another direction, always going up, and up, and up.

“The Gods can just appear wherever they want, right?” Hawk said. “What’s stopping them from meeting us at the Temple of Light? There’s only one place for us to go, and they all know it.”

The Archon gave her a thin, pleased smile. She was glad, suddenly, that he was maskless, because now she could see the true shape of his humor, the veracity of his other emotions, and the incredible intelligence blazing in those eyes. “Aye. One could say we’re delivering ourselves to them. But I know better. The Shadow has been courting a confrontation for a long time—eons, I’d say, though I suspect my estimation of how long our society has existed is…lacking.” His smile changed to a sad and lonely thing. “The Shadow will make a way through for us…or he will die, trying. But I give him better odds than I would have ever before. Hawk has indicated she has information that can change the game for my friend.”

And Hawk watched with some horror as Kaiser Willheim turned to look at her, directly. He had that avaricious gleam she’d come to loathe; she’d seen the same look in the eyes of the Gods. “And what might that be?”

“Nothing doing, Kaiser,” she said, and pushed past him to walk beside the Archon. Always keeping her eyes open for more embered creatures, she paced him, walking just a little bit faster to help him keep up. It was something she’d learned as a teenager—people will try to increase their speed to match the fastest person in the group. He seemed fit enough, and he just needed a little bit of help.

“Do not tell him what I know,” she whispered, once she felt like he’d stopped paying attention. “I think if he knew, it’d be bad.”

“Sorry,” he said.

And then the first ember fell from the sky.

Gut falling, Hawk turned to see the disaster growing in their wake.

Behind them, from horizon to horizon, glowed a dull, red light. Light alone was enough to alarm Hawk. It wasn’t something that came natural to this place, at least not on that scale. The red light spanned the full length of the forest that Hawk could see, and that ruddy glow screamed fire.

It couldn’t possibly…they couldn’t be that stupid. Oh, God. She thought they were absolutely that stupid.

“Did Argon light the forest on fire?” She asked.

Archon glanced backwards and blanched. “Yes. I do believe he did.”

Em said, “Leave it to a gym teacher.” And began to hustle like they hadn’t before. Henry and Kaiser were now bringing up the rear, with Kaiser speaking rapidly and tightly to Henry, who just looked bleak and half dead.

Henry, Hawk realized, had witnessed the death of the Ape. He’d seen the Orb with a bullet in it. He might have inferred how to kill an Archetype through those events…or, at least, Kaiser might think that. And there was no way for Hawk to confirm it, because the act of questioning Henry would be enough to give away the game.

He can’t know, she thought, desperately. He can’t. Visions of

So she focused on moving, on keeping the group going. Ember-eyed rabbits began following them now, and she didn’t think they could afford to stop and put the poor, dead things out of their misery. Not with the fire coming up fast, and especially not if the Gods knew where to find them. She helped the Archon more than anyone else, but all of them would slip in the star-moss and fall face first in its damp coolness. When she was the one who slipped, she lingered a moment, just to enjoy something that, she feared, would soon be devoured. The soft, radiant moss. The glowing flowers. The large, reaching trees with glinting bark and glittering leaves. All of it could be swallowed whole by fire…and by the hand directing that fire.

Ragnarök, Hawk thought again, and hauled herself to her feet.

They crested a hill, and Hawk took the chance to turn around again. Now the fire-glow was brighter, the ruddy red gaining hints of orange and yellow. She could see the outline of the treetops, the pale leaves gaining autumnal glory through the illuminating flame. No flame-flickers, yet, but it was eating its way towards them at a steady, terrifying pace.

“I don’t suppose we could hope for a wind to blow that the other way?” Kaiser said, jerking his chin at the red glow.

“Alas, all winds this near the ground belong to Kali’Mar. We must pray, in fact, that He does not lend His winds to the flame.”

They kept on going.