She closed her eyes and placed her hand over the lock. She concentrated and breathed. It felt as though with each breath she grew and shrank a little. She could feel an energy in the air, and it filled her when she breathed. She focused until she was only aware of the lock and the door and herself and her breathing. She inhaled, feeling herself swell.

With a sharp exhale she shoved with her mind as hard as she could. That part of the door shattered, ripping out a length of doorjamb as well. The door itself flew open, slamming against the wall at the far end of its swing.

The woman on the bed screamed again, this time also in startled fear. She was not someone Lynna recognized. She was in off a ship.

There was no time to stop and consider. The woman began thrashing about, clawing at her stomach. She shrieked the most gut-wrenching wail Lynna had ever heard. Margaret bolted into the room. Stott was staring at Lynna.

"Witch!" Lloyd Marks spat. Lynna turned, distracted by the outburst. She was shoved aside and fell to the ground. Lloyd's heavy fist flew through the space her head had just left. Stott had pushed her out of the way.

"No, Mister Marks," Stott said fiercely. "She's just Lynna. She's the mayor's daughter and she's here to help."

"GET IT OUT!" the woman on the bed screamed. All turned towards her. She was flailing and convulsing. Margaret could not even get close enough to her to do anything. She tried again and was batted away by the out-of-control hands.

"Lynna! Stott! Come hold her down! Lloyd, stay out of the way if you want me to fix this!" Margaret sounded frustrated as she pulled a tied bundle of cloth out of her bag. She pulled off the ribbon that held it together, and unrolled the cloth onto the top of the little bureau, revealing a selection of clean instruments - sissors, small knives, tweezers, and other tools Lynna didn't recognize.

She and Stott moved to either end of the bed, and fought to get ahold of arms and legs. Stott cried out, as one of her heels slammed into his cheek, before he managed to get ahold of both ankles and put his knees and hands down to stop them from moving. Lynna found herself suffereing scratches from the woman's fingernails before she managed to get her hands on both wrists. She found that the woman had suprising strength, and she pushed down with magic to help her hands be able to keep the woman from getting free.

Margaret came over with some bandages, one of the small knives, and a leather strip.

"I don't have time to give you anything for the pain. Bite down on this, it will help some. I have to cut you." She shoved the thick leather strip across the woman's mouth, muffling her cries some as she bit into it.

Lynna found herself distracted by the woman's swollen abdomen. The skin rippled and writhed, as if something was moving back and forth across it, searching for a way out. Sometimes there would be a sudden, jabbing motion, as if it was trying to punch its way out when it didn't find an opening.

"Be careful, Mrs. Gretch," she warned, as she realized that Margaret was about to provide it an exit. Margaret only nodded, intent on the abdomen herself. Lynna saw her take a breath, steadying herself and her hand before she moved in to make the first cut.

Without warning, the woman spat out the leather strip and screamed in a low, gutteral roaring scream, her body going rigid, and legs manageing to kick Stott backwards, off of the bed. Margaret plunged forward, quickly making a long cut across the abdomen, which caused the woman's scream to raise in pitch again, piercing the ears of everyone in the room and nearby hallway, and making Lynna wince. Margaret barely had an opening made before a set of claws poked their way through, and searched for purchase on the outside.

Everyone in the room was caught off guard for a moment, slightly shocked by the sight of the clawed hand that worked its way through. The woman's frantic screaming seemed to become part of the background with this new scene in front of them. Before anyone could shake it off, a second clawed hand reached through, and together they tore at the woman's flesh, splitting her abdomen open the other way from how Margaret had cut it. The demon inside poked its head out and surveyed them all for a moment, before reaching back inside to pull something out from within the woman's abdomen.

Her screams seemed to come back into focus as they started gurgling and changed to coughing, blood spilling from her mouth.

Margaret tried to reach for the thing and it leaped out of the wound. It grabbed onto the front of Margaret's dress and sunk pointy teeth into her. The suddenness of it startled Lynna. The woman spasmed in a great convulsion. Lynna, already distracted, lost her grip on the woman's wrists.

The demon was larger than it seemed like there should have been room for. It had long legs like a dog's except they ended in scaled talons that reminded Lynna of the hawk a passing hunter had brought with him once. It had a long tail with spines along it, and long bits of fleshy stuff were still stuck to them.

Its head looked like a wet cat's but without ears. It was mostly mouth and eyes, and the eyes shown clearly with evil intent.

Margaret screamed and beat at it, the little knife falling forgotten from her fingers. It landed handle first and bounced off the mats of dried reeds softening the wood floor.

Lynna recoiled at first, but then shoved at it with her mind. The demon flew across the room and landed on its feet in the corner. Stott swung the door back around on its abused hinges and held it shut with his body. "It's not getting out," he announced.

The woman on the bed stopped coughing, or screaming, or making any other sound. She was limp. An arm dangled over the edge, grimy fingers no longer reaching or grasping.

"No!" Lynna cried, reaching forward. She put her hand on the woman and tried to reach inside with her mind. Everything she found with her mind felt broken. Every organ in there had been damaged, ripped and torn open. That long tail had snaked deeply around and then been dragged through with its sharp spines. There was far too much damage. Maybe Agmar could save her, but Lynna doubted even that. Even if he had the power, he couild not possibly get here in time. She must have heard, must have known. Why didn't she listen?

With the door closed it was the four of them against the demon. Margaret was backing away, feeling at the blood on her chest. It had not bitten her throat; it was not a lot of blood. Stott leaned his back against the door, looking determined. Lloyd was in a corner opposite the demon. He was holding a lantern, his arm was wound back to throw it.

"No! Lloyd, don't!" Margaret cried out, with Stott echoing her words only a moment behind her, but they were two late. The lantern arced through the air, the large flame fluttering on it's wick behind the glass before the whole thing hit the wall and the glass shattered. Oil spilled out onto the floor, and the flame moved quickly to follow the path it poured out onto, also lighting the dried reeds at the same time.

The demon sat there, surveying them, entirely unaffected by the flames. It grinned, looking straight at Lloyd, sharp teeth bared. Suddenly, it leapt forward into the air as if it were headed to attack Lloyd next. On it's way across the little room, it bounced once off the bed before finishing it's lunge, but changed direction and landed on Stott's chest next, clutching and clawing at his torso and face. Stott screamed, and beat wildly at the thing with his hands.

Margaret stood terrified, clutching her own chest as if she was in shock, and Lloyd was backed up against the wall, muttering something that sounded like prayer. Lynna leapt off the bed and tried to grab the thing to physically pull it off Stott, but was rewarded only with pain as the spines on the demon's tail whipped hard across her face, cutting several small but deep gashes across her cheek, nose, and forehead. She screamed out, both vocally and mentally, and moved back from it, her hands clutching to cover her wounds, as she fell to the floor and crawled away.

"Lynna!" Stott's voice called out to her, but she couldn't answer. Tears filled her eyes and terror gripped her heart. She'd never felt such fear before. Fear held her frozen. Somewhere, off in the distance, she thought she could hear Agmar's voice in her mind, but she couldn't understand what he was saying.

Stott turned and slammed his chest at a nearby wall, knocking the wind out of the thing for the moment, and it let go of him, dropping to the floor. It turned and hissed, its dark eyes and menacing grin turning towards Lynna now. It leapt towards her, opening its mouth as if it meant to bite into her, and she flung her hands up to fend it off, afraid of it getting to her with every fiber of her being.

Inches from hitting her face, it seemed to bounce off an invisible wall. The air around Lynna rippled and shimmered as it hit, and Lynna realized she'd made a magical shield around herself. She pulled her knees up and hugged them to her, trying to make herself as small as she could in her little bubble of safety, tears running down her cheeks.

Stott moved to the bureau and picked up the largest of the knife-like instruments that Margaret had laid out, turning towards the demon with it brandished in his hand. The demon howled at him, as if it was laughing, before it scampered with lightening speed to the broken door, leaving the room and eliciting screams from the bystanders in the hallway. Stott moved to the door, but then looked back at the room and its occupants.

"Fire!" he yelled out. "Margaret! Lloyd! Lynna! We have to get out of the room! We need water!" He moved and grabbed Lloyd Marks, pushing him out into the hallway. "Get water - lots of it - NOW!"

Once in the hallway, Lloyd turned and ran down the hall. Stott swept Margaret's instruments back into the bag she'd had open and shoved it at her.

"Margaret - get out of here!"

She looked at him, her eyes filled with fear and welling with tears.

"I couldn't -- I didn't -- "

Stott forcibly shoved her out into the hallway as well, calling out to the people outside to get water for the fire.

Lynna felt warm, the flames flickering all around her as the bed next to her was consumed with flame. She looked at it, and felt as if it was calling to her - warm and inviting. Safe. She reached out a hand towards the heat and the flames seemed to jump towards her, dancing on the outside of the shield that shimmered around her. She could hear Stott's voice, saying something to her, but it didn't make any sense. The roar of the fire was making it harder and harder to hear anything else around her. The warm glow of the flames surrounded her, and she felt less afraid. She let the shield drop to allow the flames to join her inside, and keep her safe with their warmth.

Somewhere outside herself, she watched herself start screaming with the pain of being burned. She saw Stott, who grabbed a towel to beat back the flames, and threw his jacket over her to smother the rest. Her world faded into darkness as she felt him grab her up and throw her over his shoulder, to flee from the flames as they consumed the room.

Chapter 17

Stott found a soft place to set Lynna. She was breathing, but shallowly.

"Someone get Agmar!" he shouted, but no one seemed to be listening.

Margaret staggered out finally. She coughed and choked from the smoke. Stott went to her and guided her over to Lynna. He helped Margaret sit, hoping it would help her head clear.

Then he stood back up. He found a girl standing looking dazed; he thought she looked familiar, so maybe she worked at the inn. He shook her until she came back to focus on the world. "The inn's on fire. We need water and buckets," he explained.

The two of them tried to organize the crowd. Some people remained just milling about. Others joined in and helped. It was clearly too late to save the inn, but they had to protect nearby buildings. They all understood that uncontrolled fire was one of the greatest dangers the town could face.

Easily half of the inn was consumed by flame. Out of the corner of his eye he thought he saw an evil face in it, laughing at them, taunting them. Part of him knew the fire should not have been able to spread so quickly, but another part of him remembered the ship. The fire wants to burn...

The demon burst out of an upper floor window on the side of the inn that wasn't burning yet. The demon was still on fire, and still unaffected by it. It landed on the dirt road in a crouch. "Stop it!" Stott yelled for all he was worth.

It turned at his voice, looking at him with eyes that were dark as coal surrounded by the orange flame. The eyes were too big and seemed to look right through him. Gods, it recognizes me. Stott felt numb with the realization. It was not the demon's eyes that were staring at him. It was the deeper evil, an abyss staring back at him.

It lowered its crouch, ready to pounce. It arched its back like a cornered cat and hissed so loudly it was clearly audible over the crackling of the huge flames. Before it could hop into the air it burst apart like a piece of grease splattering apart on a hot skillet.

Stott stood there a moment, not quite understanding what had just happened until he jumped as a hand landed on his shoulder.

"Stott? Where is Lynna?"

Stott felt relief flood over him at the sound of Agmar's voice, and he turned to look at the wizard who was surveying the fire with a critical eye.

"She's over there. She's hurt. With Margaret, who's also hurt. I think Margaret's in shock though." He pointed over at the two, where Margaret looked as if she was confused as she looked down at Lynna.

"Go stay with them. Keep them safe. I need to deal with the fire first." He glanced over at them, obviously not happy with the situation. "Stott, it is very important that you wake Lynna up before I get this fire out. A part of her is fighting it off right now, but the evil is dividing its attentions. Call her, shake her, whatever it takes Stott. Go now." He turned back to the fire, and to Stott's astonishment he walked directly into it, the air around him shimmering slightly as it has around Lynna in the inn.

He turned and ran over to Lynna, fear washing over him as he remembered his brother. What happens if it gets ahold of Lynna? Could it use her magic? What if I can't wake her up?! His mind whirled as he fell to his knees next to her.

"Lynna? Lynna! Wake up, Lynna!" He winced at the though of shaking her, as much of her arms and shoulders had been burned by the fire before he had gotten her away from it. She also had some burns on her chest and face, and some of the edges of her hair had been singed. He'd been shocked to see her lean into the flames as she had, as if they were beckoning her to burn. The slashes across her face were still bleeding as well, but they didn't look deep. Stott found himself desperately wishing that he could heal.

He draped his jacket back over her, hoping it was soft enough to not hurt her as he shook her.

"C'mon Lynna! You're needed out here! Lynna, wake up!" He called her over and over again, shaking her a little harder each time. She moaned slightly, and mumbled something about it being too hot and her burning, but her eyes remained closed.

He looked around frantically, and spotted a man running back from the docks with two more buckets of water. He let go of Lynna and ran over to the man, nearly tackling him to get him to stop.

"I need one of those. Now." The man looked displeased at giving up his burden, but handed it over anyway, as Stott was tugging at the rope handle in his hand. Stott turned and ran with his heavy wooden burden, water sloshing onto the ground and his pants as he did, before he dumped the bucket directly over Lynna's chest and face. Her eyes flew open and she sputtered water as he dropped to his knees beside her.

"Lynna, look at me." He looked deep into her frightened eyes, but saw no sign of the evil or the red film that had been covering his brother's eyes. He smiled at her, relieved.

Behind him, the air suddenly felt strange, and he turned to look as the fire suddenly sucked back into the inn with a loud woooshing noise. People around him stopped in their tracks, some buckets even dropping to the ground with their astonishment. Then the inn, with its walls black from soot and char suddenly began to shake violently. A huge voice boomed in the air above him.

"LOOK OUT!"

The voice sounded like a louder and deeper version of Agmar's, so Stott didn't question it. He turned and threw himself over Lynna, with his back to the inn, grabbing Margaret by the arm and pushing her face-down into the ground as well. He was not a moment too soon, as the inn behind him seemed to explode outward in a million pieces. Splintered wood flew everywhere, some imbedding into his legs and back as he tried to shield Lynna from it.

Stott lay over Lynna waiting for the debris to stop falling. It felt as though it lasted longer than it did. Lynna was hugging him tightly, and when he realized it the moment became awkward.

"I'm sorry, I must be crushing you," he said, as he gently levered himself up. He turned to see Agmar floating in the air where the inn had been. His arms were outstretched, and the larger pieces of wreckage were piling themselves beneath his feet.

People were gathering around, most looking dumbstruck. Some had been knocked off their feet, and were dusting themselves off. None looked notably hurt. Agmar floated back to the ground.

Lynna sat up, moaning in the process. Margaret was blinking her eyes, rubbing at them. A commotion of voices asked what had happened. Broken foundation and the pile of rubble were all that was left of the inn.

Agmar stood for a moment, his eyes closed as if trying to listen to everything at once. Then he walked over to Stott and Lynna and Margaret. Agmar was the only one in the immediate area with no signs of smudged dirt or singed hair and clothes. He actually looked immaculate, which seemed out of place in the mess around them.

"Thank you for being the only one to keep calm and focused in this, Stott," Agmar said. "You have at the very least saved Lynna, and probably Margaret. Possibly others, as well. Do not discount the role you can play here."

Stott looked at him in astonishment, not having any idea what to say.

"Thanks," he mumbled in reply. "But I was just doing what needed to be done is all." He noticed other people staring at him and felt his face getting red.

"Lynna's hurt worst," he said quickly, to get the attention off himself. "She needs healing, Agmar." Lynna was shivering next to him, and he was worried that she might pass out again. Agmar came and knelt next to her.

"Yes. She is." He looked at her a moment, thoughtfully. "Lynna. Concentrate. Heal yourself."

"WHAT?!" Stott couldn't contain his shock. "After all she's just been through, you're going to make her heal herself!"

The look Agmar turned and gave him startled him so much he forgot about the splinters of wood in the back of him, and he sat down onto on of them as he recoiled from the wizard. He gritted his teeth, trying to ignore the pain as the piece jammed itself deeper into his upper thigh. In the process, his prior confidence dissappeared as he realized Lynna wasn't the only one who was wounded and shaking. Agmar's look seemed to change to one of concern as Stott realized he'd taken some burns himself and was bleeding from tears and gashes across his chest, his shirt in shreds. As if in answer to his realizations, everything around him seemed to start swimming and spinning, and he laid down on the ground on his side his trembling fingers clutching at clumps of grass to try and hold himself steady.

"No," he heard Lynna's voice say. He felt a hand reach through the rips on the shirt to touch his chest. "Stott. Look at me."

He looked at her, her face covered with dirt and blood and streaked from tears but her eyes filled with determination. He felt warmth coursing into him, through her hand, and it felt different than it had the night before - more direct, more confident. The warmth seemed to snake its way through his body and stop on the areas where he was wounded and the power intensified.

It hurt. It felt too hot. He was afraid, but he buried that feeling deep, gritting his teeth as muscles seemed to sear themeselves back together and skin grew back at an alarming rate. Instead, he looked deep into Lynna's eyes. For a moment, it seemed as if he could read her mind. He felt her worry and her fear. He could feel her physical pain, and somehow knew she'd never felt anything so awful before. He felt something else, relating to him, but it seemed to slip away from him before Stott could find out what it was. Suddenly, she pulled her hand away from his chest.

"The splinters - they have to be removed before I can heal those wounds," she said suddenly, lying back down again. With some horror, he realized she was shaking more violently than before.

"Lynna! Why didn't you heal yourself first?" he asked with some alarm. Guilt and panic washed over him suddenly, and he turned back to Agmar again. "Do something! Help her!"

"Lynna, you can do this. Heal yourself. Find the wounds and heal them, as you just did with Stott."

Stott wanted to scream and shake Agmar for not healing her. He realized that tears were starting to fall down his own cheeks in his frustration of not being able to help her himself. He saw her jaw set in determination, despite the fact that her teeth were chattering, and he took her hand in his, trying to will some strength into her. If Agmar wasn't going to help her, maybe he could help her find the strength.

"He's right. You can do this, Lynna. I know you can."

Suddenly Lynna looked up at Agmar and they just looked at each other. Something passed between them that Stott was not privy to. Lynna blinked and smiled. Her face relaxed, her breathing got steadier, and she stopped shaking.

Lynna glowed. Stott had to look away and back to confirm that he was actually seeing it. Her hand felt warmer in his. Thank you, Stott. You saved my life, her voice echoed is his head.

"Well, I guess we're even, then," he replied aloud, and she smiled again. Even expecting it, he still could not get over the amazement at watching her cuts and gashes close themselves. Burn marks faded to fresh, pink skin, which returned to its normal hue.

She turned and looked at him next. His pain lessened. A wave of calm swept over him. The piece of wood in his leg inched itself out until it fell to the ground. Other splinters worked themselves out in the same fashion.

She flooded him with warmth again, and this time it did not feel as overpowering. When it was over he did not know how long it had lasted. He guessed perhaps a minute, perhaps two. She let go of his hand.

Agmar was healing Margaret. He had a hand on her shoulder. Agmar leveled his gaze at her, clearly speaking to her in her mind. She looked up at him and looked as if a weight had been lifted. She looked relieved, and she sighed. He took his hand back, and a parade of emotions raced across her face. She lunged at Agmar and hugged him.

Agmar looked startled and hugged back stiffly, tenatively patting her on the back as he did. Stott heard Margaret mumbling something to him that sounded like an apology, and he hoped she wasn't feeling guilty for having been afraid.

We were all afraid, he thought to himself quietly, technically we all still are. He looked back over at Lynna, who seemed to be quietly surveying the scene around them. The wind had picked up slightly again, and it tossed her hair about where it had come loose from the ribbon she'd had it tied back with. There was a small twig that had caught in it at some point, and he impulsively reached over and plucked it out, trying to be gentle and not break any of the hair as he did so. She looked back at him and her cheeks flushed. He suddenly found himself wanting to lean in and kiss her. He didn't know if she was reading his mind or feeling the same thing, but it seemed to Stott that she leaned towards him a little just then, as if she wanted him to kiss her too.

"Lynna! Oh, thank the gods, I was so worried!" Both Stott and Lynna turned at Avern Mordan's voice as he hurried towards them, slightly out of breath from running.

"It's alright father, I'm fine now." Lynna smiled as she stood up to meet him, and the two exchanged a hug as soon as they came close enough to do so. Stott stood up and watched as the mayor looked his daughter over for bruises and hurts. He wondered what Avern would have said if he'd seen his daughter only moments before.

"Agmar left in a hurry. He seemed very concerned and I had the impression you were at the center of it. Lynna, what happened? Who's blood is this?"

"Um... Where's the inn?" Mary came up, having been a few paces behind Avern in arriving. She surveyed the remains of the inn looking very confused.

"Well, there was a fire. And then Agmar sort of blew it up while putting the fire out. It's complicated to explain," Lynna tried to answer. "I learned how to heal myself though!" she added excitedly, trying to distract him.

"Fire?! Heal yourself?! So you were hurt!" he exclaimed, looking her over again.

"It's alright father, Stott pulled me out when the evil tr--er--he pulled me out of the fire. He saved my life. Most of the blood is probably his, actually, but I was able to heal us both up."

"Where's Lloyd?" Mary asked suddenly. It seemed as if everyone glanced around, looking to see if they could spot Lloyd in the crowd of people who'd escaped the blaze. Nobody seemed to be able to spot the man.

"The last I saw I thought he was headed to get water for the fire. He may not have made it. It wasn't long after that that the demon escaped the room and it may have gone after him specifically. It felt like it was part of the evil and it recognized me from before or something, so it's conceivable that it went after Mr. Marks too, since he started the fire by trying to kill it."

"Demon?!" Stott thought that perhaps the mayor might faint. He saw Mary put a hand on his arm and squeeze it, trying to reassure him.

"Stott, Lynna, why don't you tell us what happened from the beginning, before our dear mayor has a heart attack from imagining the worst possible scenario."

"Lloyd Marks sent Dannen to get Margaret to tend to a sick woman who was getting worse," Lynna began. "It turned out she'd been hiding a pregnancy, and the evil...turned it. She must have come on a ship, I didn't recognize her, but she's gone now. The demon did too much damage for me to save her.

"Margaret and Stott and I tried to catch it and kill it--well, we had hoped to get it out, Margaret and I did, but it leapt out and attacked us. Then Lloyd panicked and threw a lantern at it, which is what started the fire."

"--The fire...spread too fast, just like it did on the ship," Stott interrupted. "I tried to block the door to keep the demon trapped, but it got loose anyway. I tried to tell people to get water for the fire, but people had seen the demon thing and were a bit panicked. It was chaos, really it was. The fire trapped Lynna, but I shielded what I could with towels and grabbed her.

"Lloyd ran off somewhere, and I helped Margaret out. By the time we got outside about half the inn was afire. Maybe more of it, even. Agmar showed up and did some magic that sucked the fire back in, and then suddenly he shouted look out! and it just…exploded." During his telling, Stott had not noticed Agmar and Margaret join them.

"The evil's control over fire is greater than I expected," Agmar said. "Yet it seems it cannot create it directly. We should make certain now that every fire is extinquished, or extremely well contained and supervised. Any fire that gets out of control will sweep through this town faster than you will believe." Agmar said the last part more quietly, and no one else in the area heard it.

A crowd was gathering at this point. Many of them were still dazed and confused and frightened. "Lynna," Margaret said, "there are others hurt. Let's see what we can do about them.

"She will be fine, Avern," Agmar nearly whispered. "She has had quite a scare. She will need a little time to readjust, but she will. You have young Stott's level head and good heart to thank for saving her."

"I should go help Lynna and Mrs. Gretch." Stott mumbled quickly before turning and dashing off after them. He felt terribly awkward around the mayor now, more than he had before, and the man looked as if he had been about to turn and speak to him directly. He thought he could feel them watching him as he caught up to Lynna and Margaret.

"Hey, what can I do?" he asked them.

"Stott," Margaret stopped and turned to look at him, "thank you for getting us out of that fire. I'm sorry I wasn't able to keep myself straight. Your father would have been very proud of your actions today."

Stott took a step back, as Margaret's words made a panic well up in him that he couldn't explain. His eyes were moist and he suddenly wanted to be anywhere but there. Lynna had been smiling at him just then, but now her smile seemed to fade as if she was still reading his thoughts. He didn't know what to say, but he suddenly felt like everyone in the crowd was talking about him, and he needed to get away. He turned and ran.

"Stott?" He heard Lynna's voice calling after him. He wasn't sure where he was going until he came up short as he neared the water's edge and his father's boat, where it was half-beached and mostly on its side in the water. Even from where he stood, the light was just good enough that he could make out long streaks of blood on the deck. He was only grateful there were no bodies as he fell to his knees on the grass before it, trying to focus on his breathing and clear his head. He glanced back to see Lynna running to catch up with him, her face filled with worry. He sighed, knowing she had more important concerns than he, and his heart wrenched with more guilt that she had taken this time out to come after him.

"Stott?" She slowed down as she came up to him and then lowered herself down to sit beside him, smoothing out her skirts as if they weren't torn, blood-soaked, and covered with dust from earlier.

"You shouldn't be worrying about me, Lynna. Other people need your help much more right now."

"Both Agmar and Margaret said it was okay for me to come after you. They can handle the stuff at the inn, and you shouldn't be alone right now. Not with some evil thing here trying to hurt us when we're feeling most vulnerable. And you, of all people, should know that I'm right about that too."

She took his hand and squeezed it. He nodded, reluctantly, not looking at her.

"Stott, you can't change what happened. It wasn't your fault."

"Everybody keeps saying how calm and good-hearted I am, but where was that yesterday, huh? What kind of calm, good-hearted person hacks apart his own brother with his father's machete?!" He realized that he was yelling, but he didn't care. "Everybody's just pretending. They're saying these things to make me feel better, or something, but it's just making it worse!"

"It wasn't your fault. I saw it, remember? I saw it in your mind. The evil used you. It's strong. I felt it back there in the fire. It was trying to kill me Stott! You really did save my life back there. This evil wants Agmar and I dead most of all. It's just playing with everyone else! It likes pain and anger and fear and death, but it thrives on what it's done to you! I felt it! That demon wouldn't have killed you - it wanted to hurt you more because your pain and grief is helping feed this thing's available power!"

She put her hands over her mouth, eyes wide and tears running down her cheeks. Stott could tell she'd said more than she'd intended to. Stott's heart was in his stomach as he stared at her, somewhat reeling from what she'd said.

"Stott," she said finally, "this thing is powerful and evil and can make us do things we don't mean to if we let go of our strength. I let go for a moment back there too - I almost died - I let it in to burn me. It made me believe that the fire would protect me somehow, and I wanted to be safe right then. I let the shield down and it would have killed me if it hadn't been for you. You did that. And you stood up in front of all those people this morning and stood up for me when I wanted to sink into the floor and hide from everybody. You did those things. The evil, whatever it is, that's what killed your brother. It killed your father too. And you were all alone out there, with nobody to help you stop it. But you're not alone now, so don't let it win now. It's alright to grieve for them, but you're not to blame!"

"You said it wants you and Agmar dead most of all. Because of the magic?" he asked her, suddenly having that part of the conversation sink in. She nodded.

"I think it sees us as the most likely to stop it from doing all the bad things it wants to do here. Because we can heal the wounds and stop some of the other things from hurting people." She looked worried, and her hands were trembling as she fidgeted with the hem of her skirt. She'd managed to stop crying, but her eyes were still welled up with tears waiting to fall. He leaned forward and hugged her suddenly, not saying anything. He wanted to tell her that he'd protect her and keep the evil away, but he knew he couldn't honestly promise that. He knew he'd try and do everything he could. Suddenly his own problems seemed a little lessened by the weight she was trying to carry.

"Don't worry about me, okay Lynna? I know in my mind it wasn't me that did it, it's just going to take me a while to know that in my heart too." He felt her hug him back, and welcomed it, a part of him noticing that despite all they'd been through so far today she still smelled good.

They sat on the beach for a while, just hugging each other. They both needed it. They both needed the time and warmth. It felt a little odd sitting there with empty buildings and the empty piers with their empty boats and a couple of empty ships. Unless someone came to look for them specifically, the nearest other people were a fair distance off. But he did not feel alone, and for that he was grateful.

After a while he noticed Lynna start gently sobbing. Agmar hadn't given her much time to recover from what she'd been through. Stott supposed she was doing that now.

He let her. He said nothing and just held her. He was afraid to say anything, afraid to even move, lest he spoil the moment that she probably needed rather badly. And to think she came chasing after me to make me feel better...

The wind was gentle and the smell of the sea reminded him of all the happy times on boats or on the beach or fishing off the docks when he was little. Loose hairs drifted in the breeze, and the air was cooler than normal. The sand was cool as well, but her body against his was warm, so cool air and cool sand didn't matter just then.

"Thank you, Stott," she said softly into his chest.

He set his chin gently on her shoulder and softly asked, "For what?"

"Nobody's ever saved my life before."

"You saved me, too, remember? Sure, maybe I wasn't dying, but you did bring me back from there. I don't know how long it would have taken that to happen otherwise. Besides, I said I'd stick with you and help you out with stuff, remember?"

"Oh, so reaching into the fire to get me was just something you thought you were supposed to do, huh?" She managed to laugh a little. Just then that little laugh meant more to Stott than he expected it to. She was feeling better. He had helped her again, maybe. Only fair, she made me feel better...

"Hey, it's not like I stopped to think about it. 'Gee, maybe I should help her.' No, it wasn't like that, Lynna. It wasn't something I could not do." He took her chin gently in his hand, lifting her face so he could see it.

Looking up at him just then she was prettier than he had ever noticed. He realized just how much he had not noticed her before. "It was something I'd do again." The wind picked up a little, and even with her snuggled up against him it was a chilling wind.

Suddenly lightning struck extremely close by. Stott flinched at the brightness, and Lynna, so abruptly startled, screamed. There was no thunder, but a horrible cracking noise as the mast on the boat toppled. Stott threw them out of the way, and the end of the mast landed right where they had been sitting.

Stott turned and looked back at the mast, remembering the bodies and other objects that had seemed to fall on the larger ship when his father and he had been trying to get off it. He looked up at the sky, and saw that it was getting darker and the clouds seemed to seethe and roll above him.

"We should get back," he said. It suddenly occurred to him that in the stories he'd read it was often the ones that wandered off that were killed or never seen again. "I think it's time to rejoin the others." Lynna nodded emphatically.

As they moved away from it, Stott took a moment to look back at his father's boat. Jagged pieces stood where the mast had broken, and the sails on the mast itself had obviously been through some rough weather. There were signs of charring on the main sail, although most of the sails were shredded beyond repair. The boat itself looked as if it had been pelted with hail - the painted wood now looked weathered and in need of repair despite the fact that Stott had been painting some areas of it only a few weeks before with his brother. A large gash across the side suggested it had collided with something on the way here, and had taken on quite a bit of water in one side of the cargo area. He wondered briefly how he'd managed to stay aboard to reach town. It occurred to him that he couldn't remember any of that journey. From the moment Etrick had died, Stott had been trapped in his mind, replaying the tradgedies in his mind over and over again.

"Stott?" Lynna's voice made him realize he'd stopped mid-stride as he surveyed the scene before him. Another streak of lightning closer to the docks reminded him of the present situation.

"Yeah, let's go," he said, resuming his path towards town, "but when this is over. I'd like to burn the boat."

He felt Lynna slip her hand into his and give it a squeeze as they made their way back to town.

Chapter 18

"I think maybe this is bringing a lot of people closer together," Avern said with an awkward smile.

"They're probably a good match right now. They both need some support and it looks like they've formed a bond that'll help both of them. Agmar even seems to approve of the boy," she pointed out.

"Yeah, he's a good kid." Avern rubbed his forehead, smearing some dirt across it. She couldn't help but smile at that. "I've got enough to worry about right now more than just who my daughter has a crush on. At least I think she's safe with him. I don't need to be a worrying father right now."

"I think you're doing a good job with that, actually. And if we're done arguing, then I think you can focus on being a mayor for a while." She laughed at him a little, teasing, hoping it would seem gentle enough. He laughed back, a little.

"I think maybe we're done arguing. Or maybe we need to argue a little more often. Eventually we're going to have to figure this out, you know."

"I thought that was supposed to be my line, Avern."

"I'm not a young man, and I'm a father. Maybe there's just something that comes with that."

"Sorry to interrupt," Agmar said, "but a list has been made of everyone here unaccounted for." He handed the paper to Avern, officially signifying the end of one conversation and the resuming of business.

"There's more than twenty names on this list," Avern replied with a frown.

"We will want to compare it to the one the schoolmaster is making of the groupings people are forming into. Some of these people may have already headed to different areas of town, although I fear many will be found in the debris. The demon had managed to create some measure of chaos before I arrived, and I did not have time to move the injured out of the inn before fighting the fire."

"The survivors who intended on staying here will need to be relocated." Avern sighed, brows creased.

"There's still room at my inn," Mary said. "We're fuller than we've ever been at any one given point, but we're not at double capacity yet. I think many people chose Lloyd's over mine for propriety's sake." She shrugged, trying to let Avern know she wasn't going to make a big deal of the last part. She realized that she felt both relaxed and energetic at the moment, despite the current deaths and the prospect of her inn being full to bursting with non-paying clients. She almost chuckled at the irony. We're facing the toughest disaster that's ever hit this town and I'm feeling giddy instead. Pull it together now Mary, she told herself, there are other things that need your attention.

"Let's see how many more we can put there first," Avern replied. "After that, we'll have to put the rest into the warehouse. It should hold them, but will be less comfortable overall than the inns and even the schoolhouse, which I know will be packed by now. Mary, you'll likely want to go warn your staff."

Mary nodded in reply, loathe to walk away from him but knowing she had work to do.

"I'll need to speak with Bentz first though. I promised Genla I'd handle that situation when she was worried about having enough for breakfast this morning."

"Don't let him give you any trouble, Mary. If he tries, tell him to take it up with me."

"Will do, Mayor Mordan." She gave him a smile, resisting the urge to lean over and give him a quick kiss before parting. Instead, she turned and nodded to Agmar.

"Stay safe Mary," Agmar said, nodding back at her.

"You as well, Agmar," she replied before turning and heading back towards the center of town. She kept her pace brisk, as she tried to review in her mind all the supplied she'd need to stock. I'll need Marcus to bring the wagon over. Assuming one of the horses will cooperate long enough.

She made quick pace, as the streets were mostly empty of the usual daily commotion that occurred. It felt particulary desolate as she passed the open marketplace, where caravan merchants would set up to do trade with the townsfolk and the ships that had docked here. Nobody called to her, hawking their wares. Mary noticed the absence of music the most. There were often one or two travelling musicians that would set up here or at high-traffic intersections with a cup or an instrument casing left open for people to drop coins into. Mary almost always dropped a coin or two, appreciating the cheerful life they seemed to add to the town. Now, the marketplace stood silent with a couple of tents and wagons sitting off to one side, their canvas covers flapping against the frames in the wind. A piece of fabric was caught on the wheel of one of them, looking much like a long purple silken scarf, with one end flying and waving frantically as if trying to escape. Mary wondered idly if it belonged in one of the wagons or had been lost by someone as they gathered what they needed for the next few days.

It almost didn't seem like the right town. She had never seen it so deserted. Even when the hurricane had hit, there had been smoke from chimneys. It was all so overwhelmingly empty. She shivered in the wind, not just from the coolness of the air.

No chickens were in the street pecking at scattered feed. Old Man Jenkins' old dog, blind in one eye and nearly in the other, wasn't sitting on the usual spot on Jenkins' porch. She'd used that dog as a landmark giving directions to a passing sailor just a couple months ago. Instead, leaves danced in eddies at street corners or swirled their way over the empty packed earth of the roads.

About a block from Bentz's she turned a corner and found a big black dog sniffing a spot in the ground. She did not recognize it. It turned towards her. It arched its back and pawed at the ground. Its ears went flat back against its head, and it bared fangs. It hissed at her.

She backed away slowly, raising her hands in front of her instinctively. It advanced as she backed. It hissed again and a line of drool fell from a frothing jaw. She found herself entranced by its too-dark eyes. They glistened with something unnatural.

She came back to focus on the world when the dog started wriggling back and forth looking just like a cat about to pounce. She threw herself to the side as it leapt at her. It missed and landed in a tumble, and she bolted. It chased her, jaws snapping, and it made the most terrifying howling growls she had ever heard. She ran for her life.

Her heart pounded wildly, and her breathing was short and painful as she realized she'd tied her corset a bit too tightly in Avern's presence. She headed towards the door to Bentz's general store, grateful she'd thought it prudent to wear sensible shoes at least. She hiked her skirts with one hand, however, as they threatened to trip her up as she flew up the couple of steps to the door and grabbed at the handle.

The door was locked.

"Bentz! Open the door! Bentz!" Mary all but screamed, pounding her fist against the wood of the door and peering into the window. She could see the man, putting some things into boxes at the counter, and he gave her a hateful look, shaking his head at her, his mouth in a thin, angry line.

"Bentz!" There were no words to describe her shock. She saw him turn his back on her, though she was sure he'd be able to tell there was panic in her voice. She turned and ran further down the road, not sure where to go. The sounds of the dog's menacing barking and growling had come closer again, and she turned to see how close as she ran. It was only a few steps behind her as suddenly one of her feet caught on something lying in the street. Her other foot lunged forward to catch her stride, and stepped on the edge of her dress in the process. There was a tearing noise as the hem of her dress ripped while she stumbled and lunged forward to the ground.

She immediately rolled over and threw her arms up to try and fend off the dog as it leapt onto her, but all she could do was scream as it sank teeth deep into her forearm and tore flesh away. She felt its claws digging into her dress, tearing the cloth away and then the skin as if it were trying to dig in the ground, leaving long deep gashes down her body.

Suddenly somebody kicked the dog off of her, and it howled in protest. All Mary could do was curl into a ball and hope that whomever it was could kill it or keep it away from her long enough. She tried to stop screaming, but found that a low moan continued to come out of her between sobs. She looked up to see what was going on as she heard the dog howl in pain.

Syred Allder stood between her and the dog, a sword in his hand. The dog was bleeding from a gash across its side, but it still looked ready to attack. Its drool was now tinted with blood from Mary's arm, and it seemed to get even more excited as its eyes met hers. It seemed to Mary as if it was looking to kill her specifically, and Captain Allder was just another obstacle between it and the goal. It lunged forward, as if to dive between Syred's legs, but it was deflected back by his sword. A fresh gash oozed blood across the dog's face and it howled angrily. Turning its attention to Syred this time, it leapt upwards towards him. Syred moved fluidly, bringing his sword up in an almost effortless motion. The dog fell away from him in two pieces, it's head severed off at the neck. Syred turned back to her with a grim, focused expression, carefully wiping the blood off the blade onto a pant leg before replacing it into the scabbard on his belt.

He pulled off his jacket as he knelt beside her, followed by his shirt which he tore open at the buttons and started tearing into strips.

"Hang on, Mary. Eston! Mitch! Go to Lloyd's and find Agmar or Lynna. Bring them now!" Mary heard footsteps and tried to look, but the edges of her vision were becoming blurry and gray.

"Mary, look at me," he commanded, turning her face back towards him. "Focus. You need to stay awake." He started describing what he was doing as he tied off her arm with one strip, just below the elbow.

He had her hold a piece of fabric over the wound in her arm and it was all she could do not to scream in panic when she realized that a large amount of her flesh was missing and she felt the bone through the fabric. Syred kept talking to her while pressing down the rest of his shirt onto the wounds running down her chest and abdomen. He seemed to be doing everything too slowly for her and the time dragged painfully forward. She started to have a hard time telling what he was saying anymore, as she focused to just keep her eyes open. It seemed as if whatever he was doing was working, because the wounds were hurting less and at some point she had stopped screaming. She was tired and cold though, and wondered if she could just close her eyes for a short time to help her feel better. The idea was alluring, and the lull of voices around her seemed to be telling her it would be alright to sleep now.

No Mary! We're coming! You must stay awake and wait for us! Lynna's voice seemed to break through the lull, and Mary felt herself being pushed back towards the sharpness of pain.

The wounds burned and itched. The world swam around her. Parts of her sporadically went numb, but she could not tell if maybe feeling from those parts was simply overwhelmed by feeling from other parts.

Captain Allder was saying something to her. At least it looked like he was. His mouth was moving, but she didn't hear anything. He'd always seemed more rational than that, not the sort to just sit there and mouth words at her.

"It's alright, Lynna's coming," she said to him. It seemed funny that she should be trying to reassure him of anything, but she couldn't quite place why. She remembered the flashing sword. Oh, that's right. He was in a fight. If he's been hurt Lynna can help when she gets here.

A man she did not know looked down at her. His jaw dropped. She wondered who the man was. He certainly seemed rude to be staring at her like that. It occurred to her that she was cold. She wanted to go inside where it was warm; she tried to say so to the people gathered around, but they didn't hear her. What's wrong with everyone? Can't they see I'm cold here?

Captain Allder was still pressing, holding her down, she thought. "Don't get up," someone said, but that did not make any sense. Her dress was all messed up, shouldn't she be inside freshening up? Was that why the man was staring at her? Had she fallen out of her corset or something?

Someone that looked like Lynna looked down at her next. "NO, you can't die," Lynna said, but her lips didn't move. Mary giggled. Everyone was acting so strangely.

And then the world came at Mary in a rush. Warmth flooded through her as if she was on fire, and she screamed. There was so much pain, but she wasn't cold anymore. The fire hurt, and she brushed at it as much as she could.

People were stepping back, looking shocked. It seemed as if they were falling away from her, but she couldn't figure out why. The clouds in the sky were too bright, but she couldn't shield her eyes. She writhed against the burning, but it would not stop. She couldn't put it out. I'm going to die, she realized.

All at once the burning heat stopped. She was lighter than air, and Lynna's face was right before hers.

"Lynna, she's floating," someone said. Lynna yelped and without warning Mary fell and landed on the street flat on her back.

"Oh! Sorry!" Lynna said, looking alarmed. This time Mary saw her lips moving as she spoke. Mary felt a little dizzy, and she tried to shake her head to clear it.

"You there! Fetch some juice, please." Margaret's voice came clearly through the growing lull of voices nearby. Mary tried to sit up, but the woman was suddenly there with her hand upon Mary's shoulder.

"No. Stay laying down for the moment, Mary. You've lost a lot of blood." She started pulling fabric away to inspect possible damage. Mary nearly fainted as she watched most of the Captain's shirt come away soaked with blood. She tried to peer down at her dress and saw that most of the front of it was shredded and now dark and wet with blood. She tried to move her arms to cover her chest, but realized her arm still hurt and tingled strangely.

"My arm... it hurts," she said, afraid to bring her other hand back to it as she suddenly remembered feeling bone before. Margaret reached over and untied something, and warmth seemed to slowly creep back into the arm, pushing back the pins and needles as it went. Margaret lowered Mary's arm to the ground next to her.

"Keep it low here, so the blood can get back into it. Captain Allder must have tied it off to keep you from losing so much blood?" Margaret looked up and Syred nodded at her.

"Looks like both the Captain and Lynna saved your life, Mary." She smiled, with a slightly amazed look as she ran her fingers over the exposed skin on Mary's stomach. Mary took her good hand and tried to clutch her corset closed, realizing that there was a large crowd gathering and she was mostly exposed. She couldn't seem to get a hold on the fabric. It was wet and slippery and her fingers couldn't seem to keep it. She spread her hand wide, trying to use her arm and hand to cover herself, when Captain Allder pulled his jacket over and covered her with it.

"Here. This will help," he said. She nodded at him gratefully, tears coming unbidden to her eyes.

"By all that's sacred! What happened?!" Suddenly Avern was there at her side, his face a mixture of shock, concern, and what looked like horror. He seemed to look her up and down. "Is all this blood Mary's?"

Mary blinked and turned her head, trying to get a look. She started to try and sit up again but Margaret gently pushed her back.

"Lynna has healed her, Avern. She's lost a lot of blood, but she's going to be alright. Syred killed the dog that attacked her and stopped as much bleeding as he could until Lynna arrived to heal her. They both saved her life." Margaret said.

"Where is Lynna?" Avern asked suddenly. Mary realized suddenly that the girl was no longer kneeling next to her. At some point she had moved away. Mary shook her head again, trying to clear it. Time seemed to be going by in spurts, as if she was drifting in and out. It occurred to her that she should keep focused so she wouldn't fall asleep. She was relieved when Margaret and Avern helped her to sit up a little ways while Margaret pressed a cup to her lips. The liquid was cool and crisp, and Mary drank heavily.

"The girl that did the healing?" the man who'd been staring at Mary before spoke up, stroking his thick beard as he did.

"My daughter, yes. Where is she?" Avern turned to look at the man.

"She went in the store over there," he pointed towards Bentz's. "Blew the door open on her way in, too. She looked pretty upset about something."

Avern's brow creased in concern as he looked over towards the store. Mary's vision was blocked, and she suspected Avern couldn't see the store either.

"Avern." Captain Allder got the mayor's attention. "Lynna might be aware of what happened. I was down the street at the time. Bentz's door was locked when the dog was chasing Mary."

"He was in there though. I could see him. He wouldn't answer when I called to him," Mary added, somewhat bitterly. "Bastard turned his back on me."

"Mary, please excuse me a moment." Avern's face had gone white and his eyes were blazing. He stood up and headed towards the store with a determined stride. Mary pushed Margaret away so she could sit up properly, and watched as the crowd parted to let the mayor pass.

Chapter 19

He saw Lynna first. She was standing with her hands on her hips, looking down at the source of wimpering and screaming. He wondered why he hadn't heard the screaming outside. When he saw the source of the noise, he didn't know how to react at first.

Jacob Bentz was lying curled up on the floor in a corner. He was in a puddle of his own urine. Avern didn't think he had ever seen a more pathetic sight.

"Please," Jacob kept begging between screams. He was clutching himself and writhing and sometimes flailing about.

"Please isn't good enough, Jacob Bentz. What do you say?" he heard his daughter say with such absolute authority he almost felt timid about interrupting.

"Lynna..."

"He knew what was going on, Father. He saw the terror in Mary's eyes and he liked it. When the dog started biting into her...and she really started screaming...he laughed. I've seen the entire thing in Mary's mind, and I've seen it all from his."

Bentz spasmed and screamed again.

"What are you doing to him, Lynna? I should be taking care of this."

"He almost killed her, father. And he wanted it that way. I've heard every thought he had while it was happening. If you'd heard what he was thinking you'd be irate, too."

Bentz stopped screaming and came back to begging. Avern suspected that there was a pattern involved. He wished he knew what Lynna was doing.

"Lynna, I can take care of this," he insisted.

"Not like I can."

"I'm...I'm sorry?" Bentz whimpered desperately.

Lynna's head turned back to Bentz, her eyes hard in a way that Avern had never seen before.

"What for Jacob Bentz? Why are you sorry?"

"For...locking my door?"

"I'm sorry, you'll have to do better than that," Lynna replied coldly and Jacob's screams and writhing started anew.

Avern found himself taking a step backwards from his daughter. He realized that she seemed to radiate an angry heat all around her. He thought he could actually see the air shimmering slightly around her from it.

"Lynna, this isn't like you. Please, I'm asking you to stop and let me handle this," he tried. She turned to look at him again, and he felt as if her hard eyes were searching through him for a moment. It was all he could do not to recoil from her gaze.

"Do you love her, father? I know she helps you not feel so lonely, but do you love her?"

"Lynna, I feel strongly for Mary, but I haven't sorted out all of how I feel yet. And I don't know how Mary --"

"You're lying." Her eyes narrowed. "I'm not hiding anymore, father. I can read your thoughts, and you're lying. You do love her. And you know what? She loves you too. She's loved you for a long time, actually. And this man wanted her to die screaming. And so she did scream. She was in horrible pain as that dog tried to tear her apart, and he listened and he hoped she was dying so he wouldn't have to deal with her again."

Bentz was begging again from the corner, trying to say that he hadn't meant it, and Lynna turned to look at him for a moment. Avern saw that the man was starting to drool, and wondered if Bentz wasn't going to pass out soon.

"Liar," she said to him, and he resumed screaming. Avern reached out to grab her arm, but an electric force not unlike lightening seared through his fingers and arm and pushed him back away from her. He stood there stunned, suddenly wishing Agmar was here. He turned, hopefully, at the sound of footsteps on the wood floor of the store and saw Stott there, slowly approaching. The look in Stott's eyes suggested that there was more developing between the boy and Lynna than Avern had realized. He hoped it was enough. He was sure now that she was in danger.

"Lynna?" Stott called to her quietly. "Lynna, you have to stop now. This is the evil talking now, not just you. You're angry, but you're not the type to really hurt anybody. You save lives, not destroy them. Just walk away from this, please."

"Stott, this doesn't concern you. This man ---"

"I know what he did, Lynna. He does deserve punishment. But not this. Let me guess - you're making him see and feel what happened to Mary?"

She turned to look at him as he came up next to her, and Avern could see he'd startled her. He looked over at Bentz, as the man threw his arms up in front of his face, screaming and then tried to fend off an invisible dog from tearing into his arm and the front of his body. His heart grew faint at the thought of Mary going through that. A small part of him thought Bentz was getting what he deserved, despite his more prominent feeling of horror at what Lynna was doing.

"You don't understand, Stott --" Lynna began.

"Yes I do. You're scared. And right now the anger feels better than being afraid all the time. You're the one who told me what the evil wants, and right now you're headed right towards it. And I don't want to see that happen. Your father isn't the only one who's trying to figure out how he feels about someone you know."

Avern felt his jaw drop as Stott steeled his shoulders and moved in to kiss her, putting his hand around the back of her neck to bring them together. The air seemed to spark and there was a bright flash and a crashing noise. Avern had to turn his head and shield his eyes. When he looked back, Lynna stood there looking somewhat dazed, and Stott was on the floor, sitting back up and dusting bits of wooden crate off of himself.

Lynna was blinking as Stott stood back up. He walked directly back to Lynna, and lifted her chin to look at him directly.

Bentz whimpered and sobbed softly, ignored in the corner. Avern thought that whatever he had been experiencing had stopped. Bentz was a mess.

"Stay here with me, Lynna, alright?" Stott asked softly. Lynna hugged him tightly.

"I'm sorry, Daddy," she said, looking over Stott's shoulder at him. He moved forward and put arms around the two of them. The three just stood there for a moment, silent and still. As far as he knew, no boy had kissed her before. He wasn't sure how to feel about it now.

"Thank you, Stott," Avern eventually said. He saw Bentz scramble towards the stairs that led up to the private residence above them. He let go, giving his daughter a final pat on the shoulder. "It's alright now. Lynna, please remember what Agmar is trying to teach you about control. I don't think I have to tell you what displays like that make people think. Stott, I'd like you to stay with her, if that's alright."

Both of them nodded, and they hugged each other more tightly. "Stay out of trouble," he added. And to think other fathers just have to worry about their daughters becoming women...

He ascended the stairs slowly and deliberately. He made a point of stepping heavily enough that Bentz would know he was coming. Hopefully Bentz would also be able to tell that it was him and not Lynna coming up.

Avern found the man hastily pulling on new pants. He tucked his shirt in with angry, jerking shoves.

"Avern--"

"Not a word, Jacob," he said softly but firmly. It was what Lynna called his 'mayor voice.' Bentz fidgeted as if on the edge of speaking out, but held his tongue.

"This is not the first complaint I've had about you since this started. I don't want to hear another. This town has needs right now, and you are going to see to them. I don't want any questions, I don't want any complaints or snide remarks. Keep a tally of everything, and I'll see you get reimbursed when this is all over.

"But mark my words, Jacob, if I hear of one more incident, one more complaint, no matter how small or trivial, and I'll have this building and everything in it confiscated for the town's use.

"And you have a few days yet before this is all over. You had better deeply hope that Mary isn't still holding any hurt feelings by then. Because this town hasn't had to hold a trial in quite some time, and if she pushes for it, what you did could very easily be seen as attempted murder by willful neglect. Think on that a bit, Jacob Bentz."

Avern turned to leave, not expecting any reply from Jacob.

"That trial would be a farce with you presiding over it, Avern Mordan." Bentz turned and spat. "You're the one to talk with the kind of secrets you've been keeping. And from the sound of it, you're already in bed with the town whore so of course you'd rule in her favor. I get put through hell by that brat of yours because I had my door shut to get some orders taken care of without interruption. It's not like I set the damned dog on that bitch, I just didn't bother risking myself to help her. She's used goods Avern, you could do a lot better. But then maybe you can't, seeing as how you've been harboring a witch all these years."

He turned and swung his fist, feeling the bones in his fingers connect with the ridges around Bentz's left eye. He threw all of his weight into it, and the punch sent Jacob backwards, bumping into a chair and then falling to the ground. Avern could tell the man was still feeling weakened from what Lynna had done to him as the normally hardy man seemed to crumple from the hit.

"I never really realized what a bastard you are Bentz," he said as Jacob glared up at him. "If it weren't for the fact that it would have done terrible things to Lynna's state of mind, I'm starting to think I shouldn't have tried to stop her. Think hard before you approach Mary or my daughter ever again, Jacob. Lynna's cooked breakfast for you once every week at my home for years now. And Mary has never done anything to deserve such reproach from you. If you ever do anything that hurts either of them in any way -- so help me, I'll kill you myself."

He turned away, grinding his heel into the floor as he did and slamming the door behind him as hard as he could. He slowed his pace and deliberately walked softly as he made his way down the stairs, taking slow, deep breaths to calm himself. He came up short when he saw that Lynna and Stott hadn't moved, but were standing there, kissing, in the center of the room. He could see people peering in the store windows from outside, but the two seemed oblivious to everyone. Suddenly feeling awkward, Avern cleared his throat. Both Lynna and Stott turned towards him with flushed faces and slightly guilty expressions.

"I'm sorry, am I interrupting?" he asked, teasing a little, and hoping to break the uncomfortableness of it. Faces at the windows vanished.

"Um, no Father." Lynna's blush deepened.

As he stepped outside, Avern marveled once more at small-town life. Everyone in town was supposed to be in just a few specific places. Yet there were already an easy dozen people gathered outside. He felt as though he were expected to give a speech.

Syred Allder was still around with a few of his men. Avern motioned him over.

"Syred, I've...spoken with Jacob. I've made it clear that people are to have what they need, and that he should keep a list of everything for reimbursement later.

"But realistically, there are some things we should control so we don't run out of. I'd appreciate it if you could select someone to help keep an eye on things. Whether it's goods here, or supplies from Bruckert, I don't want to see anything get out of hand. If there's a need for something out of the ordinary, approval should come from me or possibly Agmar."

"I'm not officially in charge of stuff like that, Avern. I don't really have the authority--"

"You do now. Listen, Syred, you've been responsible for peace and safety in this town for some time now. Just not in title. I always figured you offered your services to us those years ago because you just didn't care for retirement.

"But starting right now, you're the town constable, or magistrate, or whatever the title is. When this is over, we'll find out the proper title, and you can decide if you want it. As mayor I'm allowed to appoint you like that. Personally, I don't know why I didn't do it years ago."

"I'm sorry, am I interrupting?" he asked, teasing a little, and hoping to break the uncomfortableness of it. Faces at the windows vanished.

"Um, no Father." Lynna's blush deepened.

As he stepped outside, Avern marveled once more at small-town life. Everyone in town was supposed to be in just a few specific places. Yet there were already an easy dozen people gathered outside. He felt as though he were expected to give a speech.

Syred Allder was still around with a few of his men. Avern motioned him over.

"Syred, I've...spoken with Jacob. I've made it clear that people are to have what they need, and that he should keep a list of everything for reimbursement later.

"But realistically, there are some things we should control so we don't run out of. I'd appreciate it if you could select someone to help keep an eye on things. Whether it's goods here, or supplies from Bruckert, I don't want to see anything get out of hand. If there's a need for something out of the ordinary, approval should come from me or possibly Agmar."

"I'm not officially in charge of stuff like that, Avern. I don't really have the authority--"

"You do now. Listen, Syred, you've been responsible for peace and safety in this town for some time now. Just not in title. I always figured you offered your services to us those years ago because you just didn't care for retirement.

"But starting right now, you're the town constable, or magistrate, or whatever the title is. When this is over, we'll find out the proper title, and you can decide if you want it. As mayor I'm allowed to appoint you like that. Personally, I don't know why I didn't do it years ago."

"Look, Avern, I'll do the job. That's not a problem. I'll tell people I'm doing it on your say-so and most of them won't take issue with that. But I'm through taking on titles, so don't pin one on me, alright? I've always found it ironic that everyone ended up calling me Captain around here after one of the young men on the boat I came in on had called me that as part of a joke. I have held the title of Captain before, along with several others, but there are reasons why I don't want to take on another. I brought Myrah here to raise her somewhere safe and peaceful. Generally I only draw my blade to maintain that peace and safety. I don't mind helping out, but a title suddenly puts me in a position of obligation and duty and I have my reasons as to why I would rather not be in such a position again."

Avern looked at the man in surprise. Apart from the occasional bawdy joke - and he knew a couple that could make even the sailors blush - Syred was generally a quiet man who didn't say more than a couple sentences at a time. He had always been far more likely to ask questions than to answer them. Avern had always known there was more to the man's past than he'd ever said and that Syred had travelled heavily over his years, but now he wondered what kind of 'reasons' made him look suddenly so tired just now. Syred was one of the closest of the people Avern considered friends here. Both men had arrived in town alone with their daughters, though Syred had arrived before Avern. Syred had been the first to make him feel welcome and much of their friendship had revolved around raising their daughters without mothers.

"Call it a 'request for assistance that gives you temporary authority' then, it doesn't matter right now. If anyone questions your right to keep the peace here, you can tell them to take it up with me. We can talk more about it after this is all over though, as I think nearly everyone in town would agree that it's high time you had some sort of official title for what you do. I know what its like to want to leave a part of your past behind, however, so I'm willing to leave it for further discussion at a later date."

"Fair enough, Avern. Perhaps I'll explain it to you once this is over. This does seem to be the week for sharing our secrets, I suppose." He sighed with a slight laugh to take the edge off.

"Hey, do you have that flask of yours on you, Syred?" Avern chuckled as well, allowing himself a moment to relax as the two walked back to where Margaret and Mary sat on the ground, talking. They'd moved off the road and sat in the grass where Mary could lean against a tree.

"Always," he replied, reaching into his back pocket and pulling out the small metal flask that he always seemed to have filled with the smoothest rum Avern had ever tasted. Nobody knew where he got the liquor, but Avern suspected it to be quietly imported on one of the cargo ships for him. Avern thanked him as he popped the top open and handed the flask over. Avern took a hearty drink of the stuff before handing the flask back to Syred, who drank some himself before returning the cap and putting it away.

"I forgot to congratulate you, by the way, on your new grandchild. I heard it was a boy."

"Yes, I got to hold him once last night, but Myrah seems loathe to let him out of her arms right now. Eric's bringing little Kate to see her new brother today."

"Look, Avern, I'll do the job. That's not a problem. I'll tell people I'm doing it on your say-so and most of them won't take issue with that. But I'm through taking on titles, so don't pin one on me, alright? I've always found it ironic that everyone ended up calling me Captain around here after one of the young men on the boat I came in on had called me that as part of a joke. I have held the title of Captain before, along with several others, but there are reasons why I don't want to take on another. I brought Myrah here to raise her somewhere safe and peaceful. Generally I only draw my blade to maintain that peace and safety. I don't mind helping out, but a title suddenly puts me in a position of obligation and duty and I have my reasons as to why I would rather not be in such a position again."

Avern looked at the man in surprise. Apart from the occasional bawdy joke - and he knew a couple that could make even the sailors blush - Syred was generally a quiet man who didn't say more than a couple sentences at a time. He had always been far more likely to ask questions than to answer them. Avern had always known there was more to the man's past than he'd ever said and that Syred had travelled heavily over his years, but now he wondered what kind of 'reasons' made him look suddenly so tired just now. Syred was one of the closest of the people Avern considered friends here. Both men had arrived in town alone with their daughters, though Syred had arrived before Avern. Syred had been the first to make him feel welcome and much of their friendship had revolved around raising their daughters without mothers.

"Call it a 'request for assistance that gives you temporary authority' then, it doesn't matter right now. If anyone questions your right to keep the peace here, you can tell them to take it up with me. We can talk more about it after this is all over though, as I think nearly everyone in town would agree that it's high time you had some sort of official title for what you do. I know what its like to want to leave a part of your past behind, however, so I'm willing to leave it for further discussion at a later date."

"Fair enough, Avern. Perhaps I'll explain it to you once this is over. This does seem to be the week for sharing our secrets, I suppose." He sighed with a slight laugh to take the edge off.

"Hey, do you have that flask of yours on you, Syred?" Avern chuckled as well, allowing himself a moment to relax as the two walked back to where Margaret and Mary sat on the ground, talking. They'd moved off the road and sat in the grass where Mary could lean against a tree.

"Always," he replied, reaching into his back pocket and pulling out the small metal flask that he always seemed to have filled with the smoothest rum Avern had ever tasted. Nobody knew where he got the liquor, but Avern suspected it to be quietly imported on one of the cargo ships for him. Avern thanked him as he popped the top open and handed the flask over. Avern took a hearty drink of the stuff before handing the flask back to Syred, who drank some himself before returning the cap and putting it away.

"I forgot to congratulate you, by the way, on your new grandchild. I heard it was a boy."

"Yes, I got to hold him once last night, but Myrah seems loathe to let him out of her arms right now. Eric's bringing little Kate to see her new brother today."

"That'll be nice."

Syred looked off into the distance, looking thoughtful. Whatever he was thinking, he did not share it. Eventually Avern had to turn back towards the others.

Mary was examining the dog's corpse, poking it with her toe. Stott and Lynna and Margaret were standing alongside her, although none of them were talking. He moved to join them.

He couldn't see anything unusual about the dog, other than the far-from-typical manner of its death. The head and some of the neck were lying a bit distant from the body. It looked like the head had been moved some since the dog's death.

"I'm guessing it's dead now," he proposed.

"I've been wondering about that," Stott said.

"No, I think cutting the head off stopped it good."

"No, not about the dog, specifically, Mister Mordan. The shark that jumped aboard our ship; the fish that we'd pulled up…all of it--they all looked dead, and then they started attacking. I wonder if maybe they were dead. This evil can control inanimate things, locking doors and the like. What if it can control dead bodies, too?"

Avern considered that in the silence that followed. He could admit to himself that, given the things that had already happened, just maybe it was possible. It was impossible, of course, but that already didn't seem to matter any more.

"That'll be nice."

Syred looked off into the distance, looking thoughtful. Whatever he was thinking, he did not share it. Eventually Avern had to turn back towards the others.

Mary was examining the dog's corpse, poking it with her toe. Stott and Lynna and Margaret were standing alongside her, although none of them were talking. He moved to join them.

He couldn't see anything unusual about the dog, other than the far-from-typical manner of its death. The head and some of the neck were lying a bit distant from the body. It looked like the head had been moved some since the dog's death.

"I'm guessing it's dead now," he proposed.

"I've been wondering about that," Stott said.

"No, I think cutting the head off stopped it good."

"No, not about the dog, specifically, Mister Mordan. The shark that jumped aboard our ship; the fish that we'd pulled up…all of it--they all looked dead, and then they started attacking. I wonder if maybe they were dead. This evil can control inanimate things, locking doors and the like. What if it can control dead bodies, too?"

Avern considered that in the silence that followed. He could admit to himself that, given the things that had already happened, just maybe it was possible. It was impossible, of course, but that already didn't seem to matter any more.

"It is actually much more complicated than that." Avern startled at Agmar's voice. He hadn't seen the man come up to the group.

"The evil can control human bodies while they are asleep, unconscious, or allow it to control their will for one reason or another," Agmar explained. "There is no evidence that suggests it can control a dead human body, however. The less complex the brain of the victim is, the more likely it can control it once it is dead. All it is doing in that case is manuevering the body itself, which is much more difficult than controlling the will of someone unable to resist. Animals don't have the complexity of mind to resist having their will used. There is also the matter of natural animal instinct to consider - a dog, for example, has an instinct to hunt which makes it even easier for the evil to trigger."

"My belief so far is that the dead fish and the shark attack actually have more to do with the evil being trapped and contained in a location deep within the water itself. I had believed it to be in one of the rocky outcroppings just offshore from here, but I am starting to think that it was trapped beneath the water. Perhaps the element itself is important to the containment of it."

"I would still suggest you bury any bodies, however. The evil is stronger than it has been in the accounts I have read, which means we ought to take nothing to chance. We cannot afford the risk of funeral pyres right now, if that would normally be preferable, so all dead should be buried even if it is temporary." He turned and looked at Avern. "I believe the harbormaster has some young men at his disposal. Perhaps he and they could take charge of that task for now, although the youngest of them might be better having tasks elsewhere."

"Alright," Avern replied, "I talk to Bruckert about it after the meeting."

"Thank you." He nodded to Avern before turning to Lynna. "Lynna, a word please. Privately." Agmar turned and started walking down the street. Lynna looked around at the group with a worried expression before running off to catch up to him. Avern found himself having to deliberately unclench his teeth at the thought of someone else disciplining his daughter. But he couldn't deny the feeling that it was about to happen. She'd crossed a line for a moment with Bentz. He sighed, and turned his attention back to his own duties.

"People are probably already gathering in front of the Surf and Sleep. Are you alright to walk Mary?"

She nodded, despite the paleness of her face. He looked to Margaret who merely rolled her eyes and nodded.

"Very well then. We'll take it slowly, however. You still look a bit pale to me." He nervously offered her his arm, which seemed to surprise her some although she didn't hesitate in taking it. He could feel her trembling slightly and he laced his fingers with hers and tried to squeeze them reassuringly. They were both quiet while they walked slowly back to the inn.

"It is actually much more complicated than that." Avern startled at Agmar's voice. He hadn't seen the man come up to the group.

"The evil can control human bodies while they are asleep, unconscious, or allow it to control their will for one reason or another," Agmar explained. "There is no evidence that suggests it can control a dead human body, however. The less complex the brain of the victim is, the more likely it can control it once it is dead. All it is doing in that case is manuevering the body itself, which is much more difficult than controlling the will of someone unable to resist. Animals don't have the complexity of mind to resist having their will used. There is also the matter of natural animal instinct to consider - a dog, for example, has an instinct to hunt which makes it even easier for the evil to trigger."

"My belief so far is that the dead fish and the shark attack actually have more to do with the evil being trapped and contained in a location deep within the water itself. I had believed it to be in one of the rocky outcroppings just offshore from here, but I am starting to think that it was trapped beneath the water. Perhaps the element itself is important to the containment of it."

"I would still suggest you bury any bodies, however. The evil is stronger than it has been in the accounts I have read, which means we ought to take nothing to chance. We cannot afford the risk of funeral pyres right now, if that would normally be preferable, so all dead should be buried even if it is temporary." He turned and looked at Avern. "I believe the harbormaster has some young men at his disposal. Perhaps he and they could take charge of that task for now, although the youngest of them might be better having tasks elsewhere."

"Alright," Avern replied, "I talk to Bruckert about it after the meeting."

"Thank you." He nodded to Avern before turning to Lynna. "Lynna, a word please. Privately." Agmar turned and started walking down the street. Lynna looked around at the group with a worried expression before running off to catch up to him. Avern found himself having to deliberately unclench his teeth at the thought of someone else disciplining his daughter. But he couldn't deny the feeling that it was about to happen. She'd crossed a line for a moment with Bentz. He sighed, and turned his attention back to his own duties.

"People are probably already gathering in front of the Surf and Sleep. Are you alright to walk Mary?"

She nodded, despite the paleness of her face. He looked to Margaret who merely rolled her eyes and nodded.

"Very well then. We'll take it slowly, however. You still look a bit pale to me." He nervously offered her his arm, which seemed to surprise her some although she didn't hesitate in taking it. He could feel her trembling slightly and he laced his fingers with hers and tried to squeeze them reassuringly. They were both quiet while they walked slowly back to the inn.

"Before we get there were should get Mary a bit cleaned up," Margaret suggested. Mary was a mess, badly in need of cleaning and a new outfit. "Why don't we stop at my house on the way. I've a few things likely to fit you well enough."

Mary nodded gratefully. To Avern it looked as if she were too weak to speak. Most of her was dark with blood, some was even still smeared across one pale cheek.

"Yes, clean her up. I'll help you there, but then I should head over to the inn. Rest there for a while, Mary, alright? Drink some." To Margaret he added, "I can always send for you if something comes up."

The rest of the walk to Margaret's house was quiet. Avern was lost in his own thoughts. Maybe it wouldn't be proper to be always showing up places with Mary on my arm. As soon as he thought it he tried other wordings: at his side, with him, but none of them felt right. No, I do want her with me, though.

But he was the mayor, and the town was in a crisis. The town needed him to behave a certain way. For the first time since getting the job he considered quitting it. Once this is all over. He had been elected outside the Surf and Sleep. Maybe half the town had been there. All the shop owners, the boat owners and captains, all the influential folk of the town.

They hadn't had a mayor for almost a year. It had been time to pick one, or one of the distant noble lords would have to come here and do it. Even Avern had never met them, communicating by letters and reports, and the tax men who came every fall.

He left Mary with Margaret and continued o