Who had set the fires? Was it him?

She whirled about, still searching for any signs of movement. A roof collapsed in a shower of sparks and a gout of flame. She retreated, only to be almost knocked senseless by a burning chunk of timber as a wall behind her shattered. “Father!” she screamed as she was thrown back.

A spark hit her trousers and they ignited, searing pain shooting through a leg she no longer had, and then she was her again: The Girl She Never Wanted to be Again. That scared, frightened girl in the midst of an inferno.

“Father!” she screamed once more, and then he was there, not her father but Ludo, scooping her up and pressing her to his chest. She sobbed into him, arms encircling his neck. The world bounced and bobbed and shifted for a while before everything went still and silent.

“You’re alright,” Ludo said. “Bryony, you’re alright. You’re safe.”

Hearing him speak her name brought more comfort than she could put into words for some reason. “The village. I was afraid you were…I was afraid everyone was…”

“Everyone was what?” Ludo asked. There was something in his voice, a hint of confusion. What could he possibly be confused about? Wasn’t the source of her fears obvious?

“Burned,” she said, pulling back from his chest, his face so close to hers it might’ve been awkward if not for her determination to explain herself, her actions. “The village, Slough. There must be nothing left of it by now. How did you escape?”

His eye searched hers. “How did you know I was…never mind. What do you mean by ‘burned’?”

“The fire? It was as bad as…the flames were everywhere. It had to be the Fire Eater. It had to be.”

“Bryony, I—I’m trying to understand, I swear it. But there was no fire, no flames. Slough is safe and whole.”

“No,” she said, shaking her head as she tried to look past him. He was like a wall between her and the town, so she squirmed from his arms and then pushed past to where—

Lights twinkled merrily in the distance. There was no sign of fire, no plumes of smoke. Only a few scant wisps curling from chimneys. None of the buildings were decimated, their roofs still in place, their walls still erect. “I—I don’t understand. I know what I saw.”

“Our minds play tricks on us sometimes.”

She whirled on him, hands fisted, anger flaring. “No, this isn’t that. It was too real. The smoke stung my eyes. I could feel the heat. My leg…” She looked down, hands roaming along her trousers where the flames had been. The fabric was undamaged, unscorched, though a little dirty from when she’d fallen in the road.

“I…I could see it.”

“A nightmare, nothing more.”

“I wasn’t asleep yet. And how did I get from my camp to the village if I was asleep?”