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.