The assassin grabbed the lock on the door. Ghrasia tried to watch the sequence of pins and knobs he manipulated, but he stood in front of the lock, his back to her. The lock clicked. He opened the door, then shut it behind him. Ghrasia waited a breath, long enough to hear his footsteps on the stairs leading to one of the other houses – she wasn’t sure which level she was on – and then she crept across the room to Halimey’s butchered body.

The things behind the fence snarled at her. One flung itself at the fence. Ghrasia worked quickly. She grabbed two fistfuls of the scorch pods from Halimey’s pocket with her bound hands and smashed them against the floor with all her strength. The heat was nothing, at first – an inconvenience.

She heard the assassin’s footsteps on the stairs.

Ghrasia murmured a prayer to Oma.

The scorch pods burst into flame beneath her hands. She smelled burning flesh and clothing, and rolled away, fearing she was on fire. But when she looked up, she saw it was Halimey’s coat that was on fire.

The creatures on the other side of the fence bayed and howled.

Ghrasia threw herself against the door, fingers seeking the padlock, her range of motion limited by her bonds.

The assassin’s steps on the porch quickened. He pushed against the door.

Ghrasia clicked the padlock into place.

The fire licked at Halimey’s coat, warming the collection of pods inside. They began to crack and hiss. Flaming pods popped from the pile, arcing across the room. The creatures were screaming now. Smoke began to fill the room. The floor caught fire. One pod landed in a creature’s hair. It began to smoke. They screamed and screamed.

The assassin pounded on the door. Ghrasia scurried back into the far corner of the room, away from the fire. She kicked at the fence.

The door blew off its hinges with such force that it burst apart the fence for her. Ragged splinters knifed into her right side. She cringed away.

The assassin’s burst of air and shower of kindling only fueled the fire. Ghrasia choked on smoke. His captives were running around in mad circles, squealing.

The assassin turned toward Ghrasia. He carried an awl in his hand.

One of the creatures bounded onto the top of the door and across the broken fence. It leapt onto the assassin’s back and clamped onto his throat. He cried out and flailed. The second creature came after the first. They began to tear him apart.