I was not the same man who fled the capital a month ago. I fought beastkin, Dahlgeshi mages, a revenant king and his stone man army.

Compared to them, what were mercenaries?

As I charged, the old soldiers raised their shields and formed a line.

I snarled, letting my lips burn and spitting out a stream of fire. Their formation broke. I ran past screaming men, rolling on the floor to put out the flames engulfing them.

More men shuffled out of the side roads. Twenty? Thirty? Forty? More? Took wasn't lying about bringing enough mercenaries. Most were old, but some were young. All of them were hesitant to chase me.

This wouldn't do. For my plan to work, I needed them to follow. I cut to the right and charged a group of men idling at the side of the road.

Their faces flashed with surprise and then hardened in anticipation. I threw my dagger into the crowd. It buried itself in a mercenary's raised shield.

Through my bond with the weapon, I sent a wave of heat to the dagger. Its blade burned red hot and then burst into flames.

Heads turned to the burning shield.

Good.

I darted forward and stabbed the man holding the shield in the throat.

His gurgling death cry shocked the others into action. I whipped around, blocking the swing of a crude club. My short sword buried itself halfway into its rough surface.

I grit my teeth, letting a burning sensation consume my left hand. My short sword glowed red and then exploded with a coating of fire! The flaming short sword cut through the wooden club like butter.

I needed to be careful about that. Too much heat could warp the blade.

The mercenary stared at the burning end of his club. I used the distraction to kick him in the groin.

I willed my dagger into my hand in a reverse grip and drove it into the side of his neck.

Another club smashed into my left shoulder. My short sword clattered to the ground, my left arm numb.

Another strike to my right thigh, and I dropped to one knee.

OK. Maybe the plan was working too well.

"Get the rope!"

Took's voice rang out over the mercenaries surrounding me.

Spirits below! Not yet.

I clenched my teeth and thought back to Kateen's estate—to Isla, to the feeling of being burned alive.

Phantom flames licked my skin, seared my flesh, and boiled my organs.

I welcomed the pain.

The mercenaries encircled me, loomed over me with their weapons raised… and then they burned.

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A ring of fire ignited around me, incinerating the closest mercenaries before they could react. The flames lit up a gallery of fearful faces. They moved away from the intense heat my fire created. One of those faces had an eye patch.

"Took!"

The fingers in my left hand twitched back to life. I grabbed my short sword and staggered to my feet. I willed the ring of fire to expand in a rolling wave. It engulfed my enemies on all sides, extinguishing into floating embers that drifted on the wind.

I swayed on my feet, lightheaded from using too much will too fast.

A part of me revelled in this moment. In the random spasms of my tortured nerves. In the screams of the disfigured and dying. In a world that reeked of sulphur and charcoal.

I turned to Took, walking over the bodies of the squirming mercenaries. He unsheathed the long knife on his hip, raising it in a trembling right hand. Took looked from me to the bodies at my feet, turned tail and ran down the road.

I blinked.

He moved fast for a fat man.

I turned to the smoking corpses littered around me. Memories of Sin's burning mansion flashed in my mind.

Is this what heroes do?

No, it's not, but I couldn't keep pushing these memories away. The horrors that I caused directly or indirectly were my responsibility. I wouldn't run away from them like Clarice. I would be better. It was the least I could do.

Hmph.

I raised my eyebrows.

Maybe I was a hero. Maybe I wasn't, but this was a start.

# # #

I ran down the road, heavy footfalls stomping behind me. Sweat soaked through my shirt, and I panted with each step. They had taken the bait.

I skidded to a stop at the edge of the village, squinting into the darkness for any sign of Dugan and the others.

Where were they?

Behind me, the footfalls slowed. I turned to face the mercenaries. Three lines of infantry filled the road, armed with wooden shields and one-handed clubs. Behind them, a line of archers nocked arrows. Their tips were dull in the moonlight. They had switched to blunt arrowheads like the one Lira shot me with.

Took stepped out from the line of infantry and raised his long knife in the air.

The marching stopped.

"End of the line, elf. Drop your weapons, and it'll go easy for ya."

I raised my short sword and dagger in front of me, reassembled the weapon and dropped it to the ground.

Took's face twisted into a scowl, and he scanned the surroundings.

"No tricks?"

I raised my open palms with a wide, innocent smile.

"No tricks!"

"I don't believe you. Archers, loose!"

I covered my head with my forearms as arrows rained down on me. Each arrow had less impact than Lira's crossbow bolt, but the barrage was like a flurry of punches to my body.

I gasped when a few arrows slammed into my ribs. It staggered me, but I stayed standing.

Took's eye darted to the surrounding buildings, peering into the shadowed corners of their broken windows.

He thought I was leading him into an ambush.

Huh. So, he wasn't a complete idiot.

As if hearing my thoughts, Took glanced at me with a sour face.

"Hit him again for the men he burned!"

The mercenaries shouted in agreement.

Spirits below!

Another volley of arrows punched into my body.

I fell to one knee, doubling over from a blow to my solar plexus.

"Alright, take him!"

Two men from the back of the formation stepped forward, carrying a bundle of rope and a large bucket. I held my breath as the first wrapped the length of rope around my arms, holding one end in their free hand. The second man dumped a bucket of stale cooking oil over my head. For dessert, he hawked a glob of spit in my face.

"Try using your fire now."

I grimaced. This wasn't a part of my plan.

I checked over my shoulder.

Where were they?!

The first mercenary leaned down and slid my short sword into his thick leather belt. He pulled me along by rope to the mercenaries. Took greeted me with a smug smile.

"So, you're finally seeing sense, elf. Now, where's the rest of your crew?"

Where indeed.

"Well?! Not talking?" Took asked. "Hmph. Drag him to the wagon. It's a long way back to the capital. We'll make him talk."

Where were THEY?!

A fleck of orange ember drifted in front of my face.

Took and I turned our heads to the sky.

Fire... Motes of fire were drifting down like falling autumn leaves.

"You better stop whatever you're doing," Took said.

It wasn't me.

"Over there!" A mercenary said, pointing behind me.

I turned.

A lone figure stood at the edge of the village. The hood of his tan cloak was pulled up, hiding his face.

Took's one eye narrowed.

"Friend of yours?"

No. An enemy.

Van Lagos was here, and it was about damn time.

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