Breathe in the Embers
Part 7
Maria struggled, pulled between a sense of relief, and one of sorrow. They’d run through the headcount a dozen times, using the roster the camp counselors had. Every single counselor was present and safe, and so was every single student.
Save one.
No one knew where Martin Kumalo was, or where he’d been when the fire started. It was a miracle more hadn’t died, but after seeing that strange woman drawing the fire into herself… Maria had hoped for a slightly more comprehensive one. She touched the center of her chest, where her crucifix hung beneath her equipment and clothing. It had certainly been miraculous, but having one family mourning a dead child was one family too many.
Startled cries sounded from the edge of the camp. A half dozen fire engines were present now, ambulances at the entrance seeing to the survivors. It was a crowded, hectic mess, filled with soot covered faces and haggard coughs. Still, Maria could see a ripple moving through the crowd, even the other firefighters hundreds of yards away, still combatting the blaze, turned and stopped in place.
The muttering crowd slowly fell silent until only the distant crackling of flame sounded. Maria moved forward, dodging around civilians straining to see what was happening, nudging aside other first responders, until she finally had to shove her way through the solid wall of the other firefighters to see what had them all so transfixed. And when she did, she froze and stared as well.
Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.
Walking calmly through the ash was a young boy, his sepia skin warmly reflecting the firelight, his smile bright. Not a scratch on him. Not a burn, not a stain on his clothing. Tears came to Maria’s eyes, hand pressed firmly over her crucifix. Her prayers had been answered!
The first to shrug off her stupor, Maria sprang forward, breath rasping heavily in her breathing mask. Thickly gloved hands took the boy by the arm, guiding him further from the fire toward safety. The ranks of firefighters parted before them, then the other students and counselors, and finally those being checked out by the paramedics. In all of their eyes was the same shock, joy, and relief. The fire hadn’t claimed anyone at all. It truly was a miracle, made all the more amazing and mysterious thanks to the unknown woman in the fire.
No one asked Martin about the woman. He found it strange than none said the word ‘demon’, when she so obviously was one. Perhaps it was because she’d saved them all, and demons didn’t so such things. Maybe it was because they were calling it a miracle, and Lithuega was hardly fit to be an angel. Martin was silent, contemplative and distant, through all the questions and congratulations. He had plans now, big plans, and if they wrote off his distraction as shock, it mattered little.
And if they accepted his story of surviving by hiding in the river, so much the better.
And if no one noticed that his shadow was more suitable for a taller, curvier person, that suited him just fine.
Lithuega sat in the shadow, a place outside of reality, face cupped in both hands. Things had certainly not gone according to plan, and though her initial reaction had been fury, she grudgingly let go of it. The contract was still intact, though she knew Martin could have snapped it. Which meant he had need of her still. And so long as there was a need, there would be a price. Perhaps she could not simply strip the soul from this mortal, but a more civilized deal could still be made. At the end of the day, she had all the time in the world, and Martin had only a few decades. She smiled faintly, eyes burning with anticipation. Whatever happened, it was bound to be interesting.