"Here we are. Ah, rather pleasant, don't you think? Certainly better than I expected—Ashley, Maya, would you two mind sharing a bed? No? I thought not. Then Selene can take the single room, and I shall camp out on this comfortable-looking couch."

Selene sat gratefully on said couch, gently rolling her head to work out the stiffness in her neck. Fin glanced at her with a smile as he walked to the table, where he spread out an old map he'd brought from the carriage. Ashley walked to the window and looked out, while Maya stood awkwardly by the door.

"Um," she said, after a moment. "I'd like to say something. Um. Ask something, I guess."

"Yes, Maya?" said Fin, as he looked around for something to weigh down the edges of the map. "What is it?"

"I'm ... I'm really worried about the others, I really ... I really want to do something—"

"This again?" Ashley interrupted, turning away from the window to look at her sister. "We keep telling you, there ain't nothing we can do, yeah? We don't know where they are, we ain't got any leads on where to start searching—"

"But we do! Mr Fin said, he said about that little village in Pyre, he said they'd probably go there—"

"No," said Selene. "He presented that village as one of several possibilities, and concluded that it was impossible to know where they might have gone."

"But we should have gone there! We should have ... we should have tried, at least!"

"Get your head outta the clouds, kid," Ashley said. "I'm just happy we got out of Pyre as quick as we did. Hated that damn place."

"Mm," said Fin. "Maya, I understand your concern. In fact I share it. Over the past days I've been racking my brain, trying to think of some way to find Sophia and the others—"

"Yeah? What about your 'faith'?" said Ashley.

"My faith is unwavering. However, just because I believe in the competence and strength of—"

"Relax, I'm just playing with you. Nah, but seriously, Maya—and Fin too, if you're so worried—I bet those guys are fine. Probably just had a tough time of it finding each other in that damn maze of a city. Once they realised we weren't there, they would've figured we'd be going to this magic home of Fin's and headed this way. Hey, worst comes to the worst, Sophia's got her rich parents to go home to, right?"

Fin frowned. "I must say, Miss Ashley, that I like your optimism, even if it seems a little uncharacteristic."

"Just figure we can't do nothing anyway, so we might as well go on thinking things are going okay for 'em."

Selene laughed humourlessly. "I wish I could think so naively."

"Here we go," said Ashley. "Princess got an opinion, what a surprise. And it's one that puts me down, didn't see that coming."

"Ash, please don't start another fight—"

"Hey, I ain't the one tossing around insults—"

"I don't think 'naive' is much of an insult," said Selene.

"Yeah, so you ain't good at doing it, that don't make me feel any better," said Ashley. "Why don't you go to your room, Princess? Sure you need your beauty sleep or whatever."

Selene stood. "Good idea," she said. "Fin, I'd like to talk to you a little later. Privately."

"Hah."

Selene stopped halfway to her room. "What was that?" she said, not turning around.

"Nothing. Just clearing my throat. In a 'wouldn't be surprised if Princess was happy she ain't got so many rivals for a certain older guy's attention' kind of way."

Selene did turn around then, her eyes cold and bright.

"You should be very careful about what you say," she growled. "Because if you aren't—"

"Selene."

Fin had been watching this exchange with an air of patient restraint, but now his expression was stern.

"And Ashley," he continued. "Your sister is right; this is no time to be picking fights, especially not with each other. That goes for you too, Selene."

Selene nodded primly, then turned once more, heading to her room. Ashley rolled her eyes.

"Reckon I'll go get some rest too," she said. "We're heading out tomorrow, right? Gotta save our strength for getting lost in that desert, searching for a city that don't even probably exist."

"Much as I admire your recent optimism," Fin said, "I also find your continued pessimism regarding the existence of Home to be oddly noble."

"Careful, Finny, where I come from 'noble' ain't exactly a compliment," said Ashley, but she was grinning. "Maya, don't practise too hard, you listening?"

"Yes, Ash."

"Fin, for her sake, you better deliver on some of these big promises you've been making. Because if you don't, sorry to say it, but I'm gonna have to break a couple of your arms."

Fin smiled. "Good night, Miss Ashley."

"Yeah, yeah, g'night."

Maya watched her sister leave the room, then she shyly approached Fin—he'd turned back to the map and was studying it intently.

"Mr Fin," she said. "If you're not too busy later, could you maybe please show me some more shaping things?"

"Of course, Miss Maya. I'd be happy to. I notice you've been practising a lot lately, I hope you're not pushing yourself too hard."

Maya shook her head. "No, I definitely haven't, when I start to get tired or hungry I stop at that very moment. But, I've noticed, lately it takes longer for me to get tired or hungry, I think that means I must be getting better. Doesn't it?"

Fin smiled at her. "Yes, I would say..."

"What is it?" Maya asked, after Fin had remained silent for a few seconds. His response was to suddenly turn and walk to the window, flinging it open and looking out.

"Aha, nothing," he said, closing the window once more. "Perhaps I, also, am a little tired. Er ... shaping, was it? Very well, let's go over it now, before we are too exhausted to concentrate. Now, the crux, the key, the single most important thing to remember about 'shaping' is that it isn't actually about shapes at all..."

As Fin continued his lecture, and as Maya listened in wide-eyed attention, Felony unflattened herself from the wall beneath their window and let out a relieved breath.

Then she ran all the way home.

----------------------------------------

Lina sat and she stared out the window on the second floor of the inn in the village called Life. It was night now, true night, and the stars blazed in the blackness above. Not even the calls of insects interrupted the silence; the only thing Lina could hear was the sound of her breathing and of her own heart beating, strong and regular.

And the others, of course. Lina turned to look at them, then got up and walked over to each bed in turn. Ada slept like a child, one arm stretched above her head, the other tucked under her body. Her breathing was shallow but regular. Naz slept curled into a tense ball, the sheets wrapped tightly around his body, frowning even in rest.

Sophia slept like she was dead. Lina had to put her ear against the girl's chest to hear anything from her; a faint but regular heartbeat. At least she's not so cold now, Lina thought. She'd covered Sophia in half a dozen blankets and tucked her in securely. This seemed to have helped.

Or maybe not, Lina thought, as brushed a ragged strand of Sophia's ash-blonde hair away from her eyes. Maybe nothing I've done has helped at all.

Lina sighed. Well, she thought, trying to cheer herself up, at least I got food for them, even if they can't eat it right now. Lina had felt guilty about using Ada's money—she hadn't wanted to feel guilty, had told herself that Ada had given her permission, that Ada would WANT her money to be used to help the group, but still...

The most important thing Lina had bought, from the innkeeper, was a thick, warm woollen robe, old but well-made and in good condition, a worn red in colour, and a pair of old leather boots and thick woollen socks. These were for Naz. Though he hadn't uttered a word of complaint on the journey here, Lina felt sure that he must be freezing. She'd given him her coat, but that wasn't nearly enough. Now she wore only her green dress, the same dress she'd been wearing when Fin and the others had first found her. She'd washed it thoroughly, and sewn up the small tears and sewn patches over the large, she was good at needlework and the repairs were strong—if noticeable—and all in all the dress was as good as it had been before, at least as far as functionality was concerned, and yet...

Lina sighed again, then went to sit down once more, in the chair by the window. Why can't I sleep? she thought. Why aren't I tired? Why aren't I exhausted?

Because I'm a freak, came the obvious answer. Because I'm some kind of cursed monster, or demon, or witch ... but, no, I'm not, I know I'm not, because Fin explained it all, he said that these abilities are...

Lina frowned. Now that she thought about it, Fin had never actually said about where these abilities came from. About why she and the others had them, about what caused them ... about anything, really.

But then, Lina thought, that's probably just my fault for not listening, probably he DID explain things clearly to everyone and I was too busy feeling sorry for myself to pay attention. Probably Sophia understands it all perfectly. Probably she would've already gotten us to this desert, probably she would've ... would've had some amazing idea, going back to Sufferance and—

Lina fell asleep without realising it, mid-thought, still sitting in the chair.

There were hills. And a river, impossibly wide, but still a river, not a lake, not the ocean, a river. Why a river? Lina searched for the answer but found none, was distracted by a wall, the highest wall she'd ever seen, towering above her smooth and shiny, and she laughed at it, and she put one foot on it and then the other and then she was running, up the wall, and there was a man in front of her. He said something. He was smoking a cigarette, the smoke surrounding her, and she turned her head away, and he reached out to touch her, and he withered away into nothing; no, he shrank; no, she grew, she was growing and he was shrinking and then the man was nothing but the smoke from his cigarette remained, surrounding Lina, choking her, and she struggled upwards, the smoke was an ocean; no, it was a river, a river so wide and deep that it was everything, everywhere, no matter how long and hard you struggled to reach its surface you would never get there, it was an impossible goal, just a dream.

Nothing more, and nothing less.

No, Lina thought, still halfway lost in sleep. I didn't just hear a scream.

That was an odd thought. Why would I—

Not just a scream. Lots of screams. And shouts. And flame—

Lina jerked awake, then she was standing, then she was at the window, staring out, at the flicker of flames in the distance, buildings were burning, and people were running, and there were shouts and screams, and standing in the middle of the street—

With a gasp that was almost a scream, Lina pulled away from the window. She stared at the scuffed floorboards, heart pounding in her chest, breathing heavy and panicked, then she turned to look at the others—all of them were still sleeping soundly, undisturbed by what was happening outside.

"Ada! ADA!"

Lina shook the girl roughly. Ada grunted something and twisted away, but Lina held her firm and shook her again, then pulled her bodily from the bed and held her upright until she came awake, her eyes opening blearily.

"What?" she mumbled, her voice heavy with sleep.

"He's here!" Lina said, struggling to keep her voice under control. "He's HERE, he's out in the street, Ada, he's HERE!"

Ada slipped out of Lina's grasp and stumbled over to the window, joined by Naz—he must have been woken by my shouting, Lina thought, staring at them as they peeked out, then jerked back together.

"He's really out there!" Ada cried, as she and Naz turned to look at Lina, their expressions the same; terrified and asking.

Why are they looking at me? Lina thought, why do they keep looking at me, I'm not a leader! I'm barely a follower! Why isn't Ada in charge, she's so much smarter and wiser and prettier than I am, why does it have to be ME?

But maybe 'why' doesn't matter, Lina thought. It is me. So I have to do something. What are you going to do, me?

Sophia, was the answer, and Lina went to the girl's side. Her breathing was better now, the rise and fall of her chest was clear, but she was hot, burning up, her face shiny with sweat. Lina yanked the covers off Sophia and shook her shoulders, but there was no response. She picked her up off the bed, but she was totally limp, her head lolling disturbingly to the side.

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

Carefully, slowly, with great focus, Lina lay Sophia back down on the bed. If this was a cut or a bruise or a burn then maybe I could do something, but this fever, this sickness, I don't ... I can't ... no, there's nothing I can do, I can't—

"What do we do?" Ada was asking. "We ... we have to run again—"

Ada stopped, her face pale and her eyes wide as a harsh roar sounded from outside:

"PIG GIRL. COME HERE."

"How does he even know we're here?" Lina mumbled, close to sick with fear.

"He can't know," Ada said, as if clutching at this rational conclusion.

"There aren't many villages in this area," Naz said. "If he came south..."

Lina stared at him, then turned to look at Sophia.

"I can carry her again," she said. "And I have food, in that cloth, bread and cheese, and there's water, if you could carry those between you, maybe there's a back way out of this inn—"

"PIG GIRL. I KNOW YOU'RE HERE."

Lina turned to stare at the window. Edward's voice was closer than before. As she stared his voice sounded out again, clearer and smoother now:

"I've burnt three houses already, do you want me to burn another? Are you enjoying this as much as I am?"

He's burning down this village to get to me, Lina thought, why ME? Because I hurt him? Because he couldn't torture me like he wanted to? WHY ME?

She turned to the others.

"Ada, c-can you—"

Ada was shaking her head sadly—Lina noticed that she was holding a small loaf of bread, already half-eaten. "I can barely manage a spark, I tried just before, I think ... I think I did too much, Mr Fin told me, it takes time, and food, and rest for energy to rebuild ... right now, I don't have anything left. And it didn't work on him anyway, when I did it before ... and ... and when I got hurt..." Ada trailed off, fear and shame clear on her face. "I'm sorry, Lina."

Naz was also shaking his head, his eyes downcast.

"Naz?"

He glanced up at Lina, then looked away again.

"I can't," he said softly. "I want to. I want to help. But I ... I can't."

There were fresh screams from outside, screams of panic, screams of terror, these joined by incongruous laughter, and Lina risked looking out the window—Edward was close, just a couple of houses away; he'd just set another on fire, and the inhabitants were running into the street, carrying possessions and a screaming baby, as Edward stood by and laughed.

Lina watched, oddly detached, as a pair of villagers attacked Edward, saw him fend them off with little effort; a fluid dodge, a swift counter, and one of the villagers was screaming, clutching at his burnt and blistered face as he staggered back. Another movement and the second villager was shrieking in pain, Edward's hand around his leg, burning him to the bone as he laughed and laughed and laughed.

Monster.

The word came clear and strong to Lina. She gazed out the window as the villagers that had tried to attack Edward fled. He's destroying their homes. He's destroying their lives, because what he's burning is everything that they have...

"Lina, what do we do?"

Lina didn't hear Ada. She was still staring, staring as Edward looked around, searching—he hasn't seen me, she thought. He's still looking. We could run, we could just run away, and this village ... this village...

Another thought came to Lina, clear and simple, a powerful thought, a brave thought, a thought that was, above all else, unwelcome:

It's me.

I can't just run. Four houses are burning, because he's looking for me. I'm the one who has to stop him.

And deeper inside Lina was screaming, NO! I don't want to! Someone else can do it, not me! I'm not a hero, I'm not brave, I can't do anything, I'm just ordinary, I'm just the girl who can carry her friend for miles without tiring, the girl who can reflect pain back on her attackers, the girl who can heal wounds in seconds when they should take weeks, the girl who does not know her limits.

I don't know if I can do this, Lina thought. And that's just it:

I don't know.

She turned to look at the others.

"I ... I'm going down," she said, not even trying to keep the fear from her voice now. "I might ... I might be able to do something, to ... to stop him. You two ... please take care of Sophia. Um. She's not very heavy. You could ... you could probably carry her, between you."

"Lina—"

"It's okay," Lina said. She tried to smile reassuringly at Ada, but found she didn't quite have it in her. Instead she patted her awkwardly on the arm, and she reached out to touch her hand against Naz's, and then she walked out of the room, and down the stairs, and out of the inn, and on to the road.

Edward was delighted to see her.

"Pig girl!" he cried, grinning widely. "So nice to see you again. I knew you must be here—where are your friends, though? I'm surprised you came out alone, where's that little mouse? She had rather a nasty burn on her leg, did you leave her behind? How cruel!"

Lina stared at Edward. She was trying to speak but her voice had abandoned her.

"Cat got your tongue? I hope not!"

"I-I'm alone," Lina managed to force out, in little more than a whisper.

"I can see that! Do you want to know something? So am I! What a coincidence!"

What can I do? Lina was thinking. What on earth can I do? I can ... I can reflect pain. I can give pain. Could that be enough?

Scared, shivering and utterly alone, Lina forced her legs to take her towards Edward.

Edward raised his hands, waiting for her, a grinning demon lit by the flames of a dying house.

Lina stopped. She hadn't meant to, but her legs had suddenly refused to take another step closer to him. Are you mad? they seemed to be saying. What are you thinking, wanting to get CLOSER to this monster?

And then there was no choice; Edward leapt at her, his fist swinging through the air, and Lina shrieked and raised her arms instinctively, and their twin cries sounded through the street; Edward in pain, Lina in fear.

Lina staggered back, saw that the sleeve of her dress had been burnt badly, but the skin beneath was only barely scorched. It didn't hurt at all, not now.

Edward was standing, grinning again, watching her.

"Interesting," he purred, and then he was lunging at her, his fist slamming hard against Lina's face before she could react, and once more both of them cried out in unison, but then he was grinning again and bringing his hand around in a ringing slap, and Lina stumbled to the side before finding her feet and turning to face him.

"Let's get started properly then, shall we?" Edward said, and he was on her, striking again and again, his burning fists pummelling against her body as she staggered back, crying out in fear, Edward grunting in pain and effort as he attacked, obviously hurting but just as obviously fighting through the pain, his eyes bright and focused as he drew his arm back and delivered one final crunching blow to the side of Lina's head, sending her sprawling to the ground, burnt in a dozen places, her dress scorched, her burnt skin exposed.

"I feel as though I'm doing myself a disservice every time I hit you," Edward said, as he casually walked towards Lina once more. "Not because of the reflected pain, which I'm actually beginning to rather like, but because every time I hit you I expose more of your piggish skin."

Lina coughed and spat blood on to the ground, pushing herself up as Edward watched. He grinned at her as she stood.

"Something else interesting. You're getting weaker. It hurts less to hurt you. Shall we again?"

I have to hit him, Lina thought, as Edward put up his fists in a mock-foppish manner. I have to do something to hurt him, really HURT him, I have to attack him somehow. I'm ... I'm tougher than he is. He's hit me a dozen times but it doesn't hurt, not really, just a kind of an ache, I'm okay, my clothes are in worse shape than I am, I'm okay...

Lina yelled as she swung her fist at Edward, his laughter ringing out as she missed completely. As she staggered with the wasted energy of the punch Edward pushed her from behind, his burning palms scorching her dress and her back, sending her sprawling face-first against the dirt of the road.

Lina struggled to her feet, turned to see Edward grinning smugly at her. He waited until he was sure he had her full attention before he spoke:

"That hardly hurt at all."

Lina cried out as Edward launched another attack, more in desperate frustration than anything, but then as the burning blows rained down on her Lina's cries became more pained, she could feel the sharp shock of each burn as his fists slammed into her, and her feeble attempts at fighting back were so useless she wanted to cry, but she didn't, she didn't cry, even when he punched her hard in the stomach, knocking the wind out of her and forcing her back, coughing and spluttering.

Edward watched her as she recovered, clearly loving every moment of it, savouring every second.

"I really hope that's not all you've got," he said, as Lina retched and spat on to the road. "I'm just beginning to enjoy myself, the thought of stopping now ... why, it's almost painful."

Lina took a deep breath, tried to focus, to think—I have to hit him! But I can't do anything—no, don't think like that. I'm not weak. I'm strong. But how strong? I've never hit anyone, ever. But when the little ones fought I never had trouble pulling them apart, and getting stubborn pigs moving wasn't ever difficult, and I could work in the fields all day without tiring ... maybe I AM strong enough.

Maybe all I have to do is hit him, just once.

Lina straightened and fixed her grey eyes on Edward. He laughed at her.

"Oh, that look on your face, the determination, it's wonderful, you—"

Edward stopped as Lina ran at him screaming, swinging her arm around in a wide blow. He twisted to avoid it, but not quickly enough, and Lina's forearm slammed against his shoulder, sending him staggering badly. Lina screamed again as she brought her other arm around, this time the side of her fist glancing against his chest, and this was enough to push him back, almost sending him off his feet, and he let out an involuntary grunt of pain.

Hope rose within Lina, and with it came renewed energy, and once more she pressed forward, this time aiming straight for Edward's face, that smug little smile—

"AAAAAAAH!"

Lina screamed as Edward caught her fist, holding it tight as he focused heat upon it.

"You really thought you were starting to win, didn't you?" Edward laughed happily as Lina managed to wrench her hand free and stagger away. "You're not even punching properly, here's a little tip; the thumb goes on the outside of the fist."

Before Lina could recover Edward was on her once more, his strikes precise and playful, batting her this way and that, allowing her to recover just enough between blows to see the next one coming. Lina's attempts to fight back just served to frustrate her further; whenever she even had a chance to attack he simply wasn't there, had somehow slipped to the side, over and over until she found herself sobbing in pain and frustration.

"Oh, come now, you don't have to cry. I'll tell you what, why don't I give you a free shot at me? Hit me once, as hard as you can, I promise I won't dodge."

Lina let out another sob as Edward stood back, his arms held wide, grinning at her. Without thought she launched herself at him, the desire to wipe that awful smug look off his face so strong—

And Edward moved and Lina couldn't; both wrists caught in his strong hands, his face close to hers.

"Gotcha," he said, and he laughed. "It's been lovely dancing with you, but the hour grows late. As they say, all good things must come to an end."

"AHHHHH!"

Lina screamed out as Edward began to burn her, as she felt the heat from his hands melting her flesh, she could hear it, feel it, smell it, and the pain was too much, pain like she'd never felt in her life, pain like she'd never imagined could exist, and—

And I'm going to die. He's going to kill me. He's going to kill me, and I can't—

And then the heat was gone, and Lina sobbed in relief, and in frustration, because she knew that this was just another of his games, and she glared at that smug smile—

No. She didn't. Because the smug smile was gone, replaced with a look of utter shock ... and then of terrifying rage, as he looked past Lina, behind her. She twisted in his grip, staring back to see a sunken-eyed, deathly-pale girl standing in the street, her hair ragged and wild around her shoulders, standing only with the support of Ada and Naz.

When Sophia spoke, it was with a rage and power that was truly frightening:

"Let go of my friend."

Edward gripped Lina's arms tighter, his face twisted with fury.

"How are you doing that?" he snarled.

Lina glanced at Edward, then at Sophia; the girl's face was waxen, set in pained concentration. Seeing a chance, Lina wrenched her arms away from Edward, staggering back—the damage he'd done wasn't as bad as she'd imagined it, her skin was raw and blistered but far from the charred bones she'd expected to see, and already the pain was little more than a dull ache.

"Lina."

As Edward turned on her once more, Lina looked over at Sophia, into the girl's dull green eyes, and as Ada and Naz both gasped in unison Lina felt a sudden surge of energy fill her, like light, like snow, like warm sunshine and cool water; pure and powerful.

And then Edward's fist slammed into her face, against her eye, and she—

There was pain, but it was somehow separate from her self, and she caught it, and held it, and then she let it join with the pain in the rest of her body, in her arms and her chest and her cheek, and she forced it outwards, deep inside her attacker.

Edward jerked back, screaming, clutching at his head—but only for an instant. Then he was standing, glaring balefully at Lina, still hurting but in control.

Just pain, Lina thought, as he warily eyed her. You can't stop a monster just by hurting it. Pain is just pain, it's JUST pain, I can't—

But I don't just take and inflict pain, Lina thought, as she took a step towards Edward, as he took a step back. I can heal people, too. I can take their pain and I can fix their wounds. I can see 'what is' and change it to 'what should be'.

I can take pain. I can heal flesh.

I can give pain. I can—

Edward snarled and ran at Lina, thrusting his hand against her chest in an open-handed strike, she could feel the heat burning through her dress and her skin even as she brought her own hand up, wild and unskilled but it connected, she felt her fingertips brush against Edward's smooth, perfect cheek—

And the world shrank.

There was something different here. Something new. Something Lina could only think of as 'scars'. They didn't matter, though. All that mattered—

Edward screeched in pain and stumbled back, clutching at his face, at the two jagged lines through it, raw and bleeding, and Lina stepped forward and she pushed her hand against his bare arm, leaving four deep gashes as he jerked it away with a shocked gasp, and now it was clear, now everything was simple and clear, and Lina reached up and her hand closed around his face.

Edward scrabbled at Lina's arm as she held his face in her hand, and she could feel it, could feel everything, everything that he was, twitching under her palm, and she saw how easy, how so horribly easy it would be for all of that to end.

Lina became aware that Edward was no longer clutching at her hand. His arms were stiff, held away from his body, fingers twitching. She could see his eyes above her hand, staring at her, wild and terrified.

It took a moment for Lina to realise that someone was touching her arm, a soft, gentle touch, and she turned to look at Sophia, at her pale, drawn face, at the shadows under her tired green eyes, at her tight, serious mouth, which was forming words:

"Lina. You're not a murderer."

Lina stared at Sophia, and then at Ada, who stood beside her, and then at Naz, who was behind Ada. She turned, slowly, to look once more at Edward. She could feel her arm trembling, could feel whatever energy Sophia had given her leaving, draining from her like steam after summer rains.

Edward grunted as Lina pushed him back, sending him crashing to the dusty road. In an instant he'd twisted and regained his footing—

"You don't have much energy left," said Sophia, before he could act further, her voice tired but with an undeniable strength. "Trust me. I can tell."

Edward stared at her, his face almost blank, only his eyes speaking to what he felt.

"Those wounds look bad," Ada added. "If you run now, and take care of them, I think you'll probably live."

"But if you stay," said Sophia, and now there was only strength in her voice, "if you try to keep fighting, if you attack us again, then we'll be forced to respond ... and that would not be murder."

Edward glared at Sophia, then shot a look of utter hatred at Lina, and then he turned, and then he ran.

Sophia watched him go—then sagged, would have fallen if not for Ada and Naz catching her. All three of them looked utterly exhausted.

And what about me? Lina thought. I'm hurt, but ... but no, I'm not, not hurt. My arms are burnt. My face, my chest ... none of it hurts. And I'm not tired.

How strong am I?

She blinked and saw Ada standing in front of her, holding up a long brown cloak. Lina stared, not sure why she was doing that. Then she noticed Naz's deeply blushing cheeks and the way he was averting his gaze, and she looked down at her dress, which was more black than green now, and more holes than fabric.

"Thank you," Lina mumbled, as she took the cloak from Ada and wrapped it around herself.

"I'm sorry," Ada said. "I'm so sorry, Lina, I should have—we should have—"

"Yes," Naz added, tears running down his cheeks. "I should also ... I should have done—"

"No, no, it wasn't, I was—"

And then Lina was crying, sobbing out all the fear and tension and loss of everything that suddenly came rushing to fill her, and Sophia's hand was on her arm, and Ada was tentatively holding her hand, stroking it, and Naz was smiling at her through his tears, a smile of gratitude and understanding. He spoke:

"We cannot stay here."

Lina sniffed. "What?"

"We cannot stay here," Naz repeated. He looked past Lina, up the street, to where dozens of villagers beat at the burning houses with wet sacks, the flames almost out. "You ... we are outsiders. Something bad has happened." He looked at Lina once more. "They will blame us; it is our fault. We cannot stay here."

Lina took a shuddering breath. She was about to say something when, to her immense relief and everlasting gratitude, Sophia did so first:

"Then we'll leave, before we cause any trouble. Lina, if you help me I think I'll be okay to walk. Ada, could you get the food and water?"

Ada nodded, then walked back towards the inn. Sophia turned to look at Lina.

"Lina," she said. Then she smiled, soft and warm, and her weary face brightened. "Thank you."