“Gordan,” said a voice.

Gabby? No, Gabby was still on the Demesne. It couldn’t have been her. I lost interest and did my best to go back to sleep.

“Gordan,” it came again.

It sounded like it was from right in front of my face. I wanted to shoo the speaker away, but for some reason I couldn’t move my arms. Not that that worried me overly much. I was starting to get used to the feeling.

“Gordan!” This time it came with a small thump to the nose. Not enough to make my eyes water, but enough to pique my curiosity. “Yeh’ve gotta wake up!”

For the first time I realized I could hear others as well. It sounded like a crowd of people moving and talking and calling out. Was I still in the market?

“So help me, if yeh ‘adn’t’ve broke me sword, I’d stick it right up yer nose if it’d wake yeh!”

Half expecting a sting, I wasn’t surprised when I felt another small thump, this time on my left cheek.

I opened my eyes and saw Max hovering in front of me.

“Did you just kick me in the face?” I asked thickly. “Because I have to say, if you do that again it’ll put a serious strain on our friendship.”

Surprisingly, he grinned at me. “Yeh’re awake! Good thing too, I reckon, ‘cos they’re gonna light it pretty soon.”

Light it? I wondered. My head hurt as if someone had bashed it with a club. I turned my neck, wondering at the stiffness, and blinked to clear my sight. Then realized it was dark aside from the light cast by the moons and a few dozen torches. Gradually becoming more aware of myself, I realized that my hands were tied to a post at my back. No they weren’t. They were chained, complete with manacles around my wrists. I was standing on a small platform balanced on top of a pile of wood that was growing as a handful of men added to it.

Deeply concerned but not yet understanding why, I asked Max, “What’s happening?” For some reason, there was a tightness in my chest like I’d only felt once before.

He looked at me critically. “Best get yer head back into workin’ order right quickly,” he replied. “Yeh ain’t got much time.”

I looked past him for the first time and saw that I wasn’t exactly still in the market as I’d thought. Sure, I was in the same general area, but instead of being in the midst of it all, I was in what looked like a fairly large area of open space. Or at least, it would have been open space had it not been filled with villagers, all of whom were looking my way and most of whom wore eager expressions on their faces.

“Max,” I said, my throat suddenly dry. “Please tell me what’s going on.”

“Yeh sure yeh want to know?”

“Max!”

“Ok, ok, settle down. It’s like this. Yeh got the villagers all riled up about somethin’, an’ they’re set to burn yeh to death.”

So it was like that, then. The barkeep had mentioned three possible outcomes of looking for the Fracture. It didn’t look like I was going to be run out of town or locked up.

As if to confirm what Max had said, the crowd started to chant. “Burn him, burn him, burn him.”

I tested the chains but found them to be disturbingly tight and strong. “And you woke me up for what?” I asked Max. “So I could enjoy the experience more?”

He looked positively hurt. “Sorry,” he said. “I jus’ thought yeh might like a chance to escape.”

I felt a brief moment of hope. “What do you have in mind? Do you have some way to get rid of these chains?”

“Burn him. Burn him. Burn him.”

“No, not me. I thought maybe yeh’d figure somethin’ out yerself. Yeh’ve been pretty good at it ‘til now.”

So much for that, I thought. “Well, thanks anyway,” I said. “You know, I bought you a hat today. To replace the one you lost earlier. I don’t know where it is now.”

“Well, thanks, I guess,” he said.

“Burn him! Burn him! Burn him!”

It sounded as if the crowd was working itself up into some sort of frenzy. If I was going to do anything about this dreadful situation I was in, I’d have to do it now. The trouble was, I couldn’t for the life of me figure out what I might do.

I suffered a moment of weakness. “Um, Max?” I said.

“Yeah?”

“You wouldn’t mind hanging around for a while, would you? I mean, I don’t really think I want to die alone….”

“Yeh’re kiddin’, right?”

“Of course I am,” I said, even though I hadn’t been. I sighed. “You’d best be away. It looks like they’re about ready to do something.”

“Burn! Burn! Burn!”

“Yeah. All right, then. Well, I can’t say it’s been all good knowin’ yeh, but it sure ain’t been dull.” He hovered in front of me for a moment longer, as if unsure what to say or do. In the end he just gave a nod, said, “See yeh,” and flew away, leaving me to my own thoughts, the crowd of villagers enthusiastically chanting, and the uncomfortable feeling in my own chest.

I barked a sudden laugh, startling one of the men who was still adding wood to my pile. I stuck my tongue out at him and he frowned but said nothing. Maybe the feeling in my chest was an incipient stream of fire. After all, Max and Gabby both agreed that I’d somehow burned down The Rancid Pusball. And maybe I was close to unleashing another such burning stream soon. I’d laughed because while it had sort of helped me last time, I couldn’t figure out how breathing a jet of flames would help while the villagers around me were trying their best to burn me at the stake.

“BURN! BURN! BURN!”

As if in answer to some signal, the men adding wood to my pile stepped back. They were done. Almost immediately, someone I recognized stepped away from the crowd carrying a torch. He stopped no more than half a dozen paces from me.

He held the torch up as if it were a scepter of power and the crowd became quiet. It was the barkeep, although he now held himself with an air of confidence he’d lacked at The Puking Orc.

“Any last words?” he said loudly enough for everyone to hear. It all seemed slightly stylized, as if these people were simply acting in a play or attending a religious rite.

“Well yes, actually,” I said. “First of all, I have to say that I’m not overly impressed with the hospitality of your little town. I mean, it’s not as if I did anything really bad. Just asked a few questions. And what’s the punishment for that? Being burnt at the stake! Seriously, what is wrong with you people?”

Ok, so I hadn’t exactly hoped for an instant release, but I did expect it to make some sort of impact. But I got nothing at all.

“Is that it?” asked the barkeep.

“Not by a long way,” I said, even though I didn’t really have anything else to say. Then I decided to just go with whatever came into my head. “You know, you’re not a very bright lot, are you?” I said. “In fact, I’ll go further. You’re all morons, idiots and imbeciles, without a functional brain between you. What did your ancestors do? Did they fornicate with their cousins and other close family members? Are you your own uncles and grandfathers? How many of your offspring are born with three heads? Do you drown them at birth, or do you serve them up to their brothers and sisters for dinner?”

It seemed that I’d hit a nerve. Everywhere I looked, faces were turning bright red with anger. No longer was it all quiet, either. People were giving vent to their outrage in whatever way they could. Some threw insults. Others squabbled with their neighbors. Still others shook their fists and growled.

I grinned at them. What could they do about it? They were already planning to burn me alive.

Time to turn the screws. “You are idiots,” I repeated as loudly as I could, “Because you’re doing this because you think some scary man living on a nearby mountain might not like the questions I’ve been asking. A man who isn’t a lord or a king, and who is rumored to have the ability to give you a bad case of warts. I mean, come on!” It seems I’ve got an unhealthy knack of enjoying myself when I really shouldn’t. I was actually having fun!

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And, incredibly, it seemed to be working. Some of the anger had faded from the faces I saw, to be replaced with uncertainty.

“Why would you do it? Why should what this man wants matter to you at all? Does he threaten you? If so, tell your King! That’s what he’s for!” I had another thought. “Or is it your choice to burn random strangers on a pyre? Have you invented this man as some sort of justification, so you can hold your head up high once you’ve committed such horrible crimes?”

There was even more talk and doubt. If I could just continue a little longer, I might even turn it around.

“You should all be ashamed of yourselves—”

“Enough!” someone yelled.

At first I thought it was the barkeep, but a glance showed him to be experiencing the same doubts as everyone else. The uncertain muttering lessened but didn’t stop altogether.

“I s-s-said enough!”

Oh great, I thought. Thork Yurger, still dressed in his dark robe, stepped towards me from his place at the edge of the crowd.

This time the muttering died down completely.

“You know m-m-me,” he said. “You know who I w-w-work f-f-for. And you know what he’s c-c-capable of.” It would have sounded much more impressive had his voice not been high-pitched and stuttering.

“Wait a moment,” I said, putting two and two together. “Your master is Pingo T’Ong. Is he the scary man these people are afraid of?”

Thork Yurger looked at me with a sneer. “Of c-c-course he is. And you c-c-called these p-p-people idiots.” Then he casually took the torch from the barman’s hands and threw it into the pyre. “You’re d-d-done,” he said.

“Wait! Stop! Hold on a moment!” I said. The torch had landed between a couple of pieces of wood that I fervently hoped were wet enough to drink. But the flames caught within seconds and started to spread. I looked at the crowd, but no-one appeared particularly inspired to help. “Who cares who he works for?” I yelled. “Everything I said still holds true! Are you Pingo’s pawns or are you men in your own right?”

Even as I said it, I knew it was too late. Thork Yurger had interrupted me at exactly the right time (for him, anyway; it was exactly the wrong time from my perspective), and the momentum I’d gained with the crowd was gone. Instead of rushing to my aid and maybe pulling the pyre apart with their hands, they stood in uncertain groups talking it over. Those few who did want to actively help were held back by those around them.

Thork obviously understood what he’d done as well. He stood there, grinning.

“I’m going to kill you,” I said, but that just made him laugh.

“Hard to d-d-do if you’re already d-d-dead,” he said. As much as I hate to admit it, he had a very good point.

The flames had taken a good hold. Though still some distance from me, I could already feel their warmth and knew it would take real effort to put them out. I couldn’t hide from them or get out of their way, so I did the only thing I could: I spat at them. Repeatedly. And kept spitting until I ran out of spit to spit at them.

I might have had more luck trying to fly by waggling my ears. The flames ignored my futile attempts as if I’d never tried.

I started to panic at about that point. I mean, not only did I consider myself far too good looking to die, but burning to death just seemed like an incredibly painful way to do it. Not that I really knew, though. I hadn’t exactly tried it before. I’d never even really been burnt. Sure, I’d had occasional near misses when a torch burnt too low or I ended up in a tavern that was burning to the ground, but the worst that had happened is that my clothing got singed. And now I had to put up with this? It seemed a trifle extreme.

Maybe if I used my tail to open my trousers, I could pee my way to survival, I thought. Except that I didn’t really need to go.

Then I had a better idea. Ignoring Thork Yurger, the barkeep and the rest of the crowd (who were still arguing with each other despite the fact that the flames were rising ever higher) as if they didn’t exist, I whipped out my tail, crouched down as far as I could with my arms chained to the post behind me, and started flinging the wood beneath me away.

“Hey!” Thork Yurger shouted. “W-w-what are you d-d-doing?”

I ignored him. Then I changed my mind, took aim and flung a chunk of wood at him as hard as I could, savoring both the solid thunk it made on connecting with his shoulder and the pathetic yelp he made. From that point on, every piece of wood I moved went sailing towards Thork. He yelped a bit more, danced a little, and ended up backing meekly away.

Unfortunately, some of the crowd had seen what I was doing. More importantly, they’d seen how I was doing it. I heard the word “Demon” repeated often enough that I knew I’d lost them entirely. There was no way they would help me now.

I kept at it. The flames were getting very hot now, surrounding me, and smoke was coming up from underneath my feet. While I’d dug a fair hole around where I was standing, I knew it was never going to be enough. I was going to die here.

Still, I didn’t see any reason to stop, so I continued to wrap my tail around pieces of wood and fling them away.

“Gordan! Gordan of Riss!”

Huh? What? Who?

I paused, coughed at the smoke I was breathing, and looked out. And there she was, still looking beautiful in the firelight despite the wide-eyed look of horror on her face.

“Gabby!” I cried. “What are you doing here?” I was both infinitely pleased that she was there and aghast that she would see me like this.

For the first time ever, she ignored the fact I’d shortened her name. “Gordan, what have they done?” She shook her head. Perhaps she realized that she’d ignored my question, as usual. “I thought I might be in time, but….”

“But here I am.” I tried a grin through the smoke, but at just that moment a new flame appeared right under my feet. “Ow,” I said. Even so, I kept my grin going, for her.

It appeared to be too much for her. She started to cry. “I’m sorry, Gordan,” she said. “I’m sorry I didn’t get here in time. I’m sorry I blamed you for everything. I’m sorry I tried to kill you.”

The flames were really starting to sting. They’d caught my trousers and I figured I didn’t have a lot of time. “It’s all right, Gabby—sorry, Gabriella. I’m just happy to have you here, and I’m sorry too. You know, for everything. Goodbye now. It was very nice knowing you.”

Ok, so that ‘it was very nice knowing you’ bit was a little weak, but you’ve got to give me some credit. At the time I said it, I had flames dancing a little jig over my tunic, and let’s get serious, those things were hot!

They hurt. A lot.

I figured it was probably time to start screaming about it, you know, to give those watching the show they were expecting. But here’s the interesting thing: I didn’t really feel like screaming.

Sure, there were flames on and around me and I was in a fair amount of pain, but to a person like me who gets beaten up on a regular basis, it just wasn’t that bad. Kind of like smashing your thumb with a hammer. It hurts, but after a moment or two and a few choice swearwords, it calms down and you can get on with your life.

That’s what this was like. I could have screamed about it, but really, I figure screaming is for pain that’s pretty much off the end of the scale. You know, the just-before-you-die-horribly sort of pain. And this just didn’t seem that bad.

In fact, after a while, it didn’t seem bad at all. It didn’t exactly hurt any less, but the hurt no longer seemed to matter. The worst of it seemed to be the smoke, which was making me want to cough.

I started to get confused. What was going on? I wondered. Was this some form of non-burning fire I didn’t know about? Because it didn’t seem to be burning me at all. Not even my hair was truly on fire. Was the pyre just an elaborate joke designed to fool passing strangers and maybe give them a bit of a scare?

Or was I simply delusional? Perhaps I was dying and in incredible pain, only my mind didn’t want to face what was happening so it just invented a happier reality. Perhaps this happened to everyone when they were about to die….

Except that I felt fine. In fact, I was starting to feel really good.

I looked out of the fire to Gabby, but she was just standing there with tears running down her cheeks. I wanted to say something, but thought the noise of the fire might drown me out. By that stage I could barely hear anything else myself. And besides, regardless of how I thought I felt, I could still be dead in a few moments.

The fire was really burning now, and more and more flames were coming from right where I was. I coughed, struggling to breathe, and thought maybe that was how people died in a fire. Perhaps they breathed all that burning fire in and it charred their lungs. If so, then I was still in a mess of trouble. I coughed again, and once more … and then it was like I was breathing fresh, clean air.

I couldn’t believe it. The fire raged all around me. I couldn’t see or hear anything else. I should have been dead ages ago. The fire should have consumed my body like it consumed the wood all around me, like it consumed my clothes and the very air I should have been breathing.

But it didn’t. Within the flames, I was alive and unburnt and whole. And I was no longer just starting to feel good. I felt great! I felt like I was the King of everything, and nothing could touch me!

I threw my head back as far as I could and laughed and laughed and laughed out loud. And then I laughed some more.

When I was done laughing, I thought briefly about that odd feeling in my chest, and for the first time it didn’t seem ridiculous that I’d breathed a huge tongue of flame. I tried to do it again just because of the image that would make for all those still watching. Picture a great fountain of fire erupting from me in the middle of the pyre. But it wasn’t to be. The strange feeling was still there, but maybe it wasn’t quite ready to come out.

I laughed again and thought how ridiculous it was that I was chained. I should be free, I thought, to enjoy this feeling as much as possible.

Then I realized I felt more than just great. I felt powerful as well. So thinking, I flexed my arms just to see what might happen.

It should have been impossible. I mean, I’d tried this before and found the chains much too strong. But then, everything about my current situation should have been impossible, and yet there I was, laughing my head off in the middle of my own funeral pyre. So I wasn’t surprised when I felt the chain give a little.

I tried again, this time giving it everything I had.

Pink.

That was the sound of the chain snapping. Just like that, I was free.

I strode from the fire wearing nothing but my grin. I still had the manacles around my wrists. They hadn’t snapped, just the short length of chain between them. But I didn’t really think that counted overly much. What mattered was that when the crowd of people watched me emerge, they saw a man covered in fire but unharmed, showing sharply-pointed teeth and a sinuous tail flicking back and forth.

Their reaction was predictable. The cries of “Demon!” sounded again, and that was it. They couldn’t get away from me fast enough.

“That’s right!” I bellowed. “Run for your lives, for I will not stop until all are dead!” Moments later, the flames covering my body had gone out and the area where the villagers had stood was almost deserted. Not even the barkeep or Thork Yurger had chosen to stick around.

I didn’t care, as long as they didn’t irritate me any more. Nor did I care that they thought I was a demon. They could have been right. All I cared about was that Gabby was still there, looking at me without fear but also with a combination of hope and amazement.

I walked right up to her. “Hi,” I said.

For a time she didn’t say anything. Then she gave a faint smile. “You’re naked,” she said.

I nodded. “Yes. Care to join me?”

Her smile broadened. “You know, I think I will,” she said, then kissed me like she meant it.