I was sitting on a fallen log, cooking a haunch of rock-lizard over a cheerfully crackling campfire that shot occasional sparks into the air. The smell of roasting meat was making my mouth water and I felt warm and relaxed, as if nothing in the world could possibly be amiss.

Then something stung me on the cheek.

It hurt. I tried to rub it and to chase away whatever had stung me, but for some reason my arms wouldn’t move. Was I tied up? I wondered. I’d been tied up more than once before, but this felt different. It wasn’t as if my hands were restrained, but rather as if the muscles wouldn’t do as I told them. And anyway, why would I be tied up when I was cooking a meal?

“That’ll teach yeh!” said a small voice. The sting came again. I flinched but could do nothing more. Annoyed, I frowned and tried to tell whatever it was to go away. But my tongue felt as leaden and unresponsive as my arms.

I speculated on the possible connection of nerves between my arm and my tongue, but after a moment that didn’t seem important and I wondered what I’d been doing.

Oh, yes. The fire. The meat. Dinner, I thought, and wondered why it smelled like orc.

“Take that!” came the voice, and another sting. “And that!” Yet another small sting on my face.

This was getting irritating, I thought. Here I was, minding my own business by my campfire, and something was repeatedly stinging me.

“Tha’s what yeh get for settin’ fire to me home!” Another sting.

Wait a minute, I thought. Didn’t I know that voice? I frowned again, this time not so much irritated as confused.

“Useless sword,” said the voice. “Too sodding small. But so help me, I’m gonna cut off yer nose!”

Without realizing they’d been closed until now, I opened my eyes and noticed three things. First, I wasn’t sitting on a log, roasting rock-lizard or orc or whatever for dinner. Second, there was a fire, but it was a whole lot bigger than a campfire. It was the tavern, fully ablaze and uncomfortably hot from where I was, which was lying in an alley not far enough away.

The third was that Max was buzzing about in front of my face with a murderous expression, his sword once more gripped in his tiny hand.

As I watched, the furious pixie charged at me, aiming for my nose. I jerked my head out of the way. Luckily, my muscles worked a little better than they had in my dream. Unluckily, my movement generated an unpleasant wooshy, sloshy feeling in my head that I really didn’t like. I closed my eyes again in the hope it would go away.

“So yeh’re awake then, are yeh? ‘Twon’t do yer no good. I’m gonna put out yer eyes!”

That got my attention. I jerked myself into a sitting position and held up my hands. “Wait,” I said. Yeah I know, kinda pathetic. Trying to placate an enraged pixie as if he was an equal, rather than just batting him out of my way. But I was weak, sore and confused, and in that state I really wasn’t sure I could fend him off forever. “What happened?” I asked. For some reason the inside of my mouth tasted as if I’d been chewing on charcoal. I really wanted something to wash that taste away.

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“What happened?” Max echoed. At least he had paused in his attack to answer my question. “You did, yeh brainless villain! You did!” He charged at me again, but I blocked him pretty easily. My strength was coming back.

“Me? But what did I do? Last thing I remember…”

“Yeh think I care what yeh remember?!” Again he attacked.

This time I skittered backwards and climbed (a trifle unsteadily, I’ll admit) to my feet. I was covered in mud from the alley and my armor showed through my tunic in a few places that looked singed.

Max flew high enough that he remained level with my face and buzzed menacingly.

“What I remember is you, gettin’ the stuffin’ kicked outta yeh on the floor. I remember thinkin’ that were all well-an’-good, ‘cos one way or another there’d be one less Bigfolk aroun’. That partic’lar Bigfolk bein’ you was just a bonus. Then all of a sudden this big ol’ flame turned up from nowhere. An’ it was a hot one, too. Burned those guards good, so they went all shriekin’ an’ stinkin’ of half cooked meat. If that’d been where it stopped, I’da been happy with it. But that flame—your flame—it caught the tavern pretty good as well. Went up real quick.”

My flame? “But—”

Max hurtled at my face again and I had to fend him away. “But nuthin’! I dunno if you do magic or had some other trick or what, but that tavern was my home! An’ you ruined it good!”

I didn’t do magic, although I’d certainly tried a few things when I was younger. Didn’t have the knack for it. And while I wasn’t averse to dirty tricks of all kinds, I didn’t know of anything that would produce a flame like the one Max had described. And even if I did, I hadn’t used it.

It was a mystery.

“Sorry,” I said. It seemed the right thing to say.

The wooshy feeling had started to fade, allowing my brain to begin working again. Somehow I’d survived both the beating and the unexplainable fire. That was the good news. Added to that, it appeared that only Max knew where I was, or else I’d likely be in an even more desperate situation than before. This was also good news.

Unfortunately for me, there was bad news as well. From my alley, I could see people around the side of the tavern, patrons or guardsmen or both, handing buckets back and forth even though the fire was too well caught for a little water to help. Ok, so that wasn’t really bad news from my point of view. More like neutral. But it meant that I was only an unfortunate glimpse and unlucky recognition away from an angrier mob than I wanted to face. They would probably blame me for the fire as well, so the mob would be much more motivated than the market merchants I’d upset a few hours earlier.

I didn’t feel like dealing with that sort of attention. So without really thinking about it, I started to move.

“Hoi!” bellowed Max in his tiny pixie voice. “Jus’ where do yeh think yeh’re off to?”

“Away,” I answered distractedly. Perhaps my brain hadn’t started working yet after all. “I’ll find it some other way,” I mumbled.

I was thinking of the Fracture. I’d come to Ulm to track down a lead, and while I’d found Gabby, she hadn’t told me what I needed to know. Nor would she be likely to now, even if I could somehow find her again.

“Oh no yeh’re bloody well not!” said Max, but I barely noticed. It was a shame about Gabby, I thought. Such potential.

Then I looked at Max again. He was winging his way down the alley towards the very people who could make life very awkward if they knew where I was.

Two quick strides caught me up. I took a third, reached out and grabbed him, not caring that he still had his sword out.

He jabbed me in the palm of my hand. “Oi!” he yelled once again. It seemed to be a favorite expression of his, but this time it came out a bit muffled.

“Now, now,” I said. “Let’s not go attracting more trouble my way, shall we?”

Then I wondered what I should do. Should I bury him under a rock? It would work, I supposed, but it seemed unnecessarily cruel. Bash his head until he lost consciousness? I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, pixies are tough. I didn’t even know if I could knock him unconscious, or if I’d end up killing him first.

In the end, there was only one thing to do. I stuffed him head first into one of my coin pouches and tied the top as securely as possible.

Then I went in search of a horse I could steal, to take me and Max away from this disappointing little town.