“How far from here is the granary?” I asked. He refused to even glance at me, but sat stony-eyed, staring at the wall. “Because,” I went on conversationally, “I just wondered what you were going to do if the fires spread this far. I wouldn’t care to burn alive. They did leave you the keys, didn’t they?” The boy, glanced immediately toward the old man. His hand made an involuntary twitch toward his pouch as if to be sure he had them still, but neither made a reply. I stood by the barred window and watched him. After a time the boy went to the door and peered out again. I saw his jaw clench. The old man went to look over his shoulder.
“It’s spreading, isn’t it? A winter fire is a terrible thing. Everything dry as bones.”
The boy would not reply, but he turned to look at me. The old man’s hand stole down to the key in his pouch.
“Come and bind my hands now and take me out of here. None of us wants to be in this building if the flames come this far.”
A glance from the boy. “I’m not stupid,” he told me. “I won’t be the one to die for letting you go free.”
“Burn where you stand, Bastard, for all I care,” the old man added. He craned his neck out the door again. Even from afar I could hear the sudden whoosh as some building vanished in an eruption of fire. The wind brought the smell of the smoke strongly now and I saw tension building in the boy’s stance. I saw a man run past the open door, shouting something to the boy about fighting in the market square. More men ran past in the street, and I heard the jangle of swords and light armor as they ran. Ash rode on the winds now and the roaring of flames was louder than the gusting winds. Drifting smoke grayed the air outside.
Then suddenly boy and man came tumbling back into the room. Nighteyes followed them, showing every tooth he had. He filled the door and blocked their escape. The snarl he let loose was louder than the crackling of the flames outside.
“Unlock the door of my cell, and he won’t hurt you,” I offered them.
Instead the boy drew his sword. He was good. He did not wait for the wolf to come in, but charged at him, weapon leveled, forcing Nighteyes back out of the door. Nighteyes avoided the blade easily, but he no longer had them cornered. The boy followed up his advantage, stepping out into the darkness to follow the wolf. The second the door was no longer blocked, the old man slammed it.
“Are you going to stay in here and burn alive with me?” I asked him conversationally.
In an instant, he had decided. “Burn alone!” he spat at me. He flung the door open again and raced outside.
Nighteyes! He’s the one with the key, the old one who runs away.
I’ll get it.
I was alone in my prison now. I half expected the boy to come back, but he did not. I grabbed the bars of the windows and shook the door against its latch. It barely budged. One bar felt slightly loose. I wrenched at it, bracing my feet against the door to lever at it with all my weight. An eternity later, one end twisted free. I bent it down and worked it back and forth until it came out in my hand. But even if all the bars came out, the opening would still be too small for me to get through. I tried, but the loose bar I gripped was too thick to get into the cracks around the door to pry at it. I could smell smoke everywhere now, thick in the air. The fire was close. I slammed my shoulder against the door but it didn’t even shiver. I reached through the window and groped down. My straining fingers encountered a heavy metal bar. I walked my fingertips across it until I came to the lock that secured it in place. I could brush my fingers against it but no more. I couldn’t decide if the room was truly getting warmer or if I were imagining it.
I was blindly bashing my iron bar against the lock and the braces that supported it when the outer door opened. A guard in gold and brown strode into the room, calling, “I’ve come for the Bastard.” Then her glance took in the empty room.
In a moment, she pushed back her hood and became Starling. I stared at her in disbelief.
“Easier than I’d hoped,” she told me with a stark grin. It looked ghastly on her bruised face, more like a snarl.
“Maybe not,” I said faintly. “The cell’s locked.”
Her grin became a look of dismay. “The back of this building is smoldering.”
She snatched my bar with her unbandaged hand. Just as she lifted it to smash at the lock, Nighteyes appeared in the door. He padded into the room and dropped the old man’s pouch on the floor. Blood had darkened the leather.
I looked at him, suddenly aghast. “You killed him?”
I took from him what you needed. Hurry. The back of this cage burns.
For a moment I could not move. I looked at Nighteyes and wondered what I was making of him. He had lost some of his clean wildness. Starling’s eyes went from him, to me, to the pouch on the floor. She did not move.
And some of what makes you a man is gone from you. We have no time for this, my brother. Would not you kill a wolf if it would save my life?
I didn’t need to answer that. “The key is in that pouch,” I told Starling.
For a moment she just stared down at it. Then she stooped and fumbled the heavy iron key out of the leather pouch. I watched her fit it into the keyhole, now praying that I had not dented the mechanism too badly. She turned the key, jerked loose the hasp, and then lifted the bar from the door. As I came out she ordered me, “Bring the blankets. You’ll need them. The cold outside is fierce.”
As I snatched them up, I could feel the heat radiating from the back wall of my cell. I grabbed up my cloak and mittens. Smoke was beginning to slink in between the planks. We fled with the wolf at our heels.
No one took any notice of us outside. The fire was beyond battling. It held the town and raced wherever it willed. The people I saw were engaged in the selfish business of salvage and survival. A man trundled a barrow of possessions past us with no more than a warning look. I wondered if they were his. Down the street I could see a stable afire. Frantic grooms were dragging horses out but the screams of the panicked animals still within were shriller than the wind. With a tremendous crash a building across the street collapsed, wheezing hot air and ash toward us in a terrible sigh. The wind had spread the fire throughout all Moonseye. The fire sped from building to building, and the wind carried burning sparks and hot ash beyond the walls to the forest above. I wondered if even the deep snows would be enough to stop it. “Come on!” Starling yelled angrily, and I realized I had been standing and gawking. Clutching the blankets, I followed her wordlessly. We ran through the winding streets of the burning town. She seemed to know the way.
We came to a crossroads. Some sort of struggle had taken place there. Four bodies sprawled in the street, all in Farrow colors. I paused, to stoop over a soldier and take the fallen woman’s knife and the pouch at her belt.
We neared the gates of the town. Suddenly a wagon rattled up beside us. The two horses drawing it were mismatched and lathered. “Get in!” someone shouted at us. Starling leaped into the wagon without hesitation.
“Kettle?” I asked, and “Hurry up!” was her reply. I climbed in and the wolf leaped easily up beside me. She did not wait to see us settled but slapped the reins on the horses. The wagon plunged forward with a lurch.
Ahead of us were the gates. They were open and unmanned, swinging on their hinges in the wind from the fire. To one side I caught a glimpse of a sprawled body. Kettle did not even slow the team. We were through the gates without a backward glance, and rattling down the dark road, to join others fleeing the destruction with carts and barrows. Most seemed bound toward the few outlying homesteads to seek shelter for the night, but Kettle kept our horses moving. As the night about us grew darker and folk fewer, Kettle stirred the horses to a faster clip. I peered ahead into the darkness.