CHAPTER 4

It was a stupid idea.

She told herself that, repeatedly, as she walked through the cloak-black night, arms clutched tight to her chest to stay warm. She loved the heat of the desert sun on her back, but the moon’s glow seemed to suck the warmth from everything.

It was a stupid idea.

But one she had to do, no matter what.

She’d convinced herself of it, after all, and while she’d had her share of bumps and scrapes and bad deals over her long and storied sixteen years of age, she knew that if she convinced herself of something, it had to be right.

No matter how stupid.

The long and short of it was this.

She had to catch a fifth fucking lizard.

Not to ask another question- though that could work actually I’ll think about it- or anything like that. But to apologize, for the rudeness of her fourth. A symbolic gesture, showing she understood the importance of what he was trying to teach her.

And also, truth be told, he was right. The tail really was sweet. It’d make a good apology gift.

So out into the dark she’d gone, making sure the flicker of their camp was always visible, no matter how far out she went. The flickering heat, far away as it was, stood out in her mind- she could navigate back, no sweat. She was sure of it. Fingers crossed.

Think I’m out far enough… she thought to herself, pulling her box of matches from her shorts pocket. Even in the dark, she could make out every detail on it, from the thin wood it was made of, to the tightly packed contents, to the brand name printed on it: Smokin’ Lady Matchsticks.

The image printed beside it was a vivacious woman with a lit cigar in one hand, wearing a beautiful pink Felisian dress, with frilly white edges at the top and bottom, and short sleeves that hung high on the shoulders.

She loved that dress, loved it since the first day she saw it in the import shop where she bought her dime-novels. The first couple of days after buying it, she just… stared at it in awe of how pretty it was. She was ten back then, and at that age, that was all it was.

At the age she was now, she wasn’t sure which was stronger; the desire to wear it, or the desire to take it off another woman.

“Hehehe…” she laughed to herself, the thought putting a dopey grin on her face- only to smack it off with a “wait, no, pull yourself together. This is serious!”

She gave herself a physical smack on the cheek to make extra sure- she couldn’t be too careful, even out here alone.

With a quick, careful move she drew a match, and struck it against the back of her hand. An amber glow cut through the dark around her.

Everything looked mostly the same as it had earlier that day, save for the additional scorch marks and upset dirt from failed- or successful, she added- shots. The question was, of course, how would she find one of those sneaky lizard bastards in the dark?

The answer was simple.

She wouldn’t.

Instead, she walked to a place relatively unscathed by her hunting, dug a hole with her heel, and spat through the matchstick. It hit the little ditch, igniting like a candlewick.

If she was cold, the little critters would be too. During the day they hid in the sand to stay cool, but at night they stayed in the sand to stay warm. Noble had told her that. All she did was provide a lovely additional source of warmth.

A trap, baited with a little bit of kindness.

She snuffed out the match and slinked into the darkness to wait and watch.

###

This sort of thing took a while, and Saila’s mind was prone to wandering. The current path it trod upon was one she’d never seen before. She had no idea what brought her too it tonight- maybe it was all the waiting, all the frustration of the earlier day weighing down on her tired mind. Maybe it was the way Noble said it.

“You know… Most people can’t do what you just did.”

What an odd thing to say. Sure, it wasn’t common to strike a match against your skin, but that wasn’t noteworthy. Sure, she could do some cool tricks with the fire, but surely any fire-dancer could…

“… how do you think you did that, exactly?”

She thought about how she’d made a little burning pit of spittle.

Well, that one was obvious. Fire needs to burn to live, and anything could burn, she was sure she’d read that in a book somewhere. So, it just made sense.

What about spitting in that soldier’s face? Or the wheel?

Well, tha- she had been terribly frightened, she couldn’t remember all the details. She must have drawn and lit a match real quick like, and denied it to save her own skin.

She made a mental note to check her match count all the same.

The lizard shooting? Surely that’s too preci-

She didn’t even entertain that. That was just a basic trick, breathing in deep and letting out a quick, compressed pwoo to flare the match. The fire just burns along the wind, fueled by her breath. The book on fire safety she read- right that’s where I read that everything can burn! - told her that strong winds risked spreading fire. Breath was just, lung-wind. It all made-

Shadows danced across the fiery bait she had set.

Big ones.

The skinks she’d chased down earlier, they had been pretty sizeable, she thought. Half a foot long at most. But this one… it looked to be about five feet, with thick leathery skin the colour of sand and dirt. Even with the faint light, she recognized it from the stories she’d heard back in Dehali- a varanus, though people more familiar with Dulacean called it ‘Watch Lizard’. They hunted rats and the like… but also broke into chicken coops and made a mess of them when food got scare.

The one before her had a skink firmly grasped in its jaws, chewing with a gentle slowness, enjoying the warmth after a night’s hunt.

Saila felt the faintest pang of guilt as she drew a match, knowing soon she’d be the one by the fire.

She struck the match, took aim, and-

The varanus looked her way!

- fired.

The varanus ran, but too late. Fire scorched its back legs- not enough to take it out, but enough to slow its speed. Saila bolted from the dark, doing her best to keep track of it. Not difficult with embers crackling, faint amber-red specks in the dark.

The chase was long and hard- the large lizard had a head start. injuries be damned. That and it was dark- if she took her eyes off it even a moment, she’d lose it. She may not have heeded Noble’s warning earlier, but she knew better now.

Maybe that was why, when it happened, she was so shocked.

A second streak of flame, red and vibrant, filled the darkness. The varanus, so pursued by its current predator, did not notice the second.

And in that flash of fire, Saila saw a monster.

It was larger than a dog- nearly horse size, truthfully- with a muddy coat of red-and-brown fur that blended with the sand and dark. Eyes, vibrant like a cat’s, glimmered in the dark like stars. Paws that looked more like human fingers dig into the sand- and the slain varanus, razor sharp claws piercing leather hide. A scorpion tail swung through the air behind it, too prehensile and far, far too large to be an actual scorpion… never mind the fact that it was attached to something that looked more like a tiger.

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The monster didn’t notice her at first, dipping down to rip chunks from its stolen meal. It sounded like an old drunken man she’d overheard once, face first in some oatmeal.

Every inch of her screamed except her mouth, too frozen from fear to react to the impulses that rippled up her nerves.

The matchstick she still held turned traitor and flared up with a sizzle that turned the stick to ash and made her flinch.

The monster noticed her, face ripping clean from the lizard, dripping crimson.

It locked eyes with her. Despite its feline countenance, the eyes looked human.

Bloody maw gaped wide with a warbling shout-bark, and red sparks crackled across the creature’s fangs.

Then, fire. A stream of it, billowing out like water from a hose.

A part of Saila told her to run- run like you’ve never ran before.

If Saila had ever listened to that part of her, she wouldn’t be face to face with a fire breathing cat-scorpion.

Instinct, raw and fiery, wanted that lizard.

Saila drew another match, struck it alight, and blew as hard as she could. No need to aim, it was a little over five feet away and big enough that the fire would hit, no matter how wide it went.

The flames did hit. Washed over it like a wave of water.

Was as effective as one too. It recoiled as any good cat would but didn’t budge.

Then, a shift in the shadows.

Saila leapt backwards just as the creature’s scorpion tail slammed into the dirt where she had been standing. It glared at her, sparks dancing, the order clear.

Leave. Now.

Damn thing… her thoughts raced. If I had my brass stick I could hit it, that tends to scare things off- but look at it it’s huge! I doubt that’d do more than piss it off. I want that damn lizard it’s mine I hunted it down first it stole it- holy shit the ditch that tail-strike left if it hit me I’d have- no don’t think about that focus, focus on th-

The sparks grew fiercer, arcing and jumping, excited to burn. It let out that strange, grumbling noise, like a stray caught in a fist fight with a carpenter.

Cautiously, but with a swiftness to her steps, Saila retreated. Step by step, keeping her eyes on it- can’t turn around it’ll be on me like that lizard- my lizard, damnit- all the while.

Despite her fear, she kept her eyes locked on the thing. There was a fury in its eyes, a fury she recognized well- of people who took ill to her fire-dancing, of people shooing her off their steps or out of their stables.

Impatience.

Saila’s retreat halted.

Partly because her back had hit a large stone- she’d tell herself later she went to it on purpose for potential cover she could run behind but in truth it just snuck up on her- and partly because she realized something.

The sparks, the growls. The glare. Even the gout of fire- not aimed at her, but in the air.

Impressive, frightening.

Threatening.

That thought made it all click.

If it was making a threat display, it felt threatened. By her. The tail-strike was the only time it could have actually hurt her- and it only did that because she attacked outright and refused to move. It was an escalation of warning, and when she backed off it had gone back to sparks.

That sensible part of her that wanted her to run, wanted the flame building in her chest to be nothing but smoke.

She drew the match anyway.

Saila didn’t really know why herself- somehow she’d spooked it with the little flame she carried. Maybe it thought she was just a weird, thin, gangly kitten. Maybe it, somehow, knew humans enough to know the implicit threat they held. Maybe it had watched them hunting from a distance and recognized her scent.

Maybe it was their shared connection with fire.

Whatever the case, it meant the monster was scared of her, in some animalistic way.

She took the fear and the fury and she used it as fuel. She held the match to her lips, and breathed in.

Sparks danced along her teeth. It tickled at her gums, catching on her breath. It came naturally- after all, if the creature could do it, why not her?

Even in the dark, lit only by the occasional errant ember, the scorpion-cat’s expression changed. Ears flattened, tail reared. Warbling anger hissed out as it bared fangs.

Steady… Saila told herself. She felt the tension boiling as she breathed, in and out, fanning the flames but not letting them flow. Its display had been impressive, she had to beat it.

She took a step forward. The flames danced and jumped.

Just a little more…

The monster did the same, and reared back.

It spat another gout of flame, into the air.

NOW!!

Something inside of Saila roared, loud and thunderous. Amber flame pierced through the darkness and fanned out like a bird. Embers gently drifted down, like kindling.

The creature howled, hissed, but recoiled backwards.

Saila walked towards it, flames still flowing from the match, a signal fire lit in the screaming breath she’d just left out. The match was already crumbling between her fingers, but it was enough. The beast stared at her with its all-too-human eyes, and Saila saw fear.

As it bounded off into the dark, kicking up dust, a thought occurred to her.

When had she lit the match, again?

Saila grabbed her prize by the tail. The bite it had taken out of it was not quite so large as the dark had made it seen- still a fair bit of meat left for her and Noble. She was thankful for that, at least. Thankfully this foolhardy, stupid idea had born fruit. Thankful that the pounding in her chest had finally slowed enough for her to think.

“Saila, what happened.”

Noble’s voice. She could see him in the distant dark, shadowed by the fading flames.

She wiped the scalding spittle from her mouth, and tried to speak.

A cry came out instead, as she fell to her knees.

###

The sound of the manticore’s roaring flame had woken him up. He’d expected to have to tell Saila what it was, warn her off of investigating, maybe promise he’d explain in further detail tomorrow. But Saila wasn’t there. He’d feared the worst.

Then the little lady’s flames had erupted across the sky.

Just one worry replaced with another.

Hitched up onto his back, her face buried between his shoulders, Saila told Noble what happened in fits and starts. It was that exhausted, panicked way a sleep deprived teenager who felt they’d been caught doing something they knew better than to do, and knew they were going to be punished- which would be as bad or worse than surviving. An attempt to explain, mired with apologies and emotion that spilled out like a water from a sieve.

He understood that feeling well enough. He’d sort out the actual details later.

All that mattered was that she was safe.

By the time they were back at camp, she’d calmed down some. Her breath came lightly- not asleep, but in thought, rhythmic and even.

That was good. Even at the worst of times, she had a strong will.

Noble set her down by the campfire and laid a blanket down over her, a soft comfort. He fed the flames, just enough to stop them from dying out till morning.

The horse stirred, and gave him such an accusatory glance, as though that had woken him up. Damn thing. Noble sighed, and sat across from her, and waited. He’d say up till she finally conked out for real, or if she needed to talk. Either or.

An hour later, she chose the latter of the two.

“I’m a monster, right?”

Hm. Not what I expected.

“What makes you say that, little lady?”

She sat up, the blanket- a soft Trestarian cotton with flower patterning- sloughing off into her lap.

“That thing- you saw it, right? It had a big scorpion tail. Weird finger-paws, that kinda stuff. That’s a monster.”

He nodded.

“And it can breathe fire. Like I can- I think. So, I’m like that.”

“Well,” Noble said. “You’re not a cat, and you didn’t sting me in the back mid-way to camp so you’re not a scorpion. I’d say you’re not.”

Despite herself, she chuckled- weakly, but still. “Come on, Noble. That’s not what I mean. I mean… I’ve got something like it, in my soul, right?”

Noble shook his head.

“Like I told you in Dehali, world’s got a lot of monsters. Just because they told you that-”

“Not just them- not just… the rude folk, or the soldiers. Some good folk too- the friar, the guy who ran the shop I- I bought stuff from. My mom. They all called me blessed by the salamander, ironically or not. They knew something I don’t, right?”

“What makes you say that?”

She took a breath, trying to calm herself.

“Mom always said a salamander ran over- well, I mean I dressed it up for the kids but-”

Noble held up a hand. “I get it, I get it. Your mother said your father was a salamander?”

“Sorta. He… was a fire-dancer, eater, that kinda thing. Called himself that a lot. Like it meant something.”

“The friar told me it’s a turn of phrase.”

“I mean it is, but like…” She gazed into the campfire. “I feel like when she said it, it was different.”

Noble looked into the sky. Stars twinkled like candles in a velvet curtain.

Clever damn kid.

“What’s got you thinking like this anyway? There’s a fine difference between one of those and your candle tricks.”

She didn’t answer for a moment. Just watched the flames dance.

“I forgot to light it,” she finally said. “When I did my big… fwoosh, to scare it off. I forgot to light the match. But there was still fire. Not the first time it’s happened, but I always… convinced myself, you know?”

“I know,” he said simply.

“That’s why I know I’ve… gotta be a monster,” Saila said. She pulled the blanket close. “Cause it means I killed my mom.”

Noble didn’t move an inch, but felt his heart quiver in his chest.

“I was a kid. Grew up hearing how my dad could dance with flames, make them move like they were a part of him. I bought some matches, a book on fire safety, read it all the time. Played with the matches a bit. Simple stuff.”

She sounded distant. Memory and exhaustion gripping at her.

“One day it catches on the curtains. Nice silk things, Mom always said, from Zarrhdad. I panicked and tried to stop it. Stamp it out. Didn’t work- probably made it worse, knowing what I know now. We lived a bit away from Dehali proper, in a little house, more wood than brick. Mom and I just stared at it- we’d barely gotten out in time. As it burned, I just, saw tears roll down her face. She looks to me, back to the fire, and jus- just… just walks right back in.”

Memories tumble, like stones down a mountain.

“I’m sorry,” Noble said calmly. “I don’t know how to tell you that wasn’t your fault. But it isn’t- no matter what you feel. Some things, we just… never understand.”

“I know,” she sighed.

Time passed, slowly, with the weight of words. Saila bundled up closer to the fire.

When Noble next spoke, he almost choked on the words, like he’d forgotten how to form them.

“My brother.”

Saila looked at him, raising a sleepy eyebrow.

“The man with a smile in his eyes,” he said. “He’s my brother.”

“What happened?”

“Long story, and twice as painful. Ends badly- one way or another,” Noble said. He wondered if the stars held any answers, shimmering up there in their chaotic sea.

“But now you know.”

The horse let out a breath, the only audience to the two, and that was the last sound either of them heard that night.

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