The smell of smoke awakened him.

Not the bed bugs, or the scratchy sheets. Not the cold draft coming in under the door, or the ruckus of the drunk men in the tavern several floors below his room.

Will peeled one eye open and sniffed the air. The smell was getting stronger.

He was alone in the room, one he had reserved for the night at the local inn at Stamford Fief, one of the most southern in Araluen. It was on the western edge of the Solitary Plains, but the townsfolk liked to pretend the plains didn't exist. Too many stories about spirits roaming there, along with memories of Wargals and the Kalkara. The inn was just far enough away that the only way you knew you were close was the occasional eerie whistle of the wind, or the thinning of the forest around the edges of the fief.

The night had been cool and dark when he arrived at the inn a few hours earlier, and he had enjoyed a mediocre meal in the tavern and then collapsed into the bed in his room, exhausted from his day's ride. He had been out to visit the Ranger at Stamford, on Gilan's orders: an easy mission, but with a long travel time. He'd already been gone for a week, and he was anxious to get home. The moon was big and full, and the wind blew heavily through the hallways and into the cracks in the walls, over and under Will's bed. But now it was not just the wind blowing in.

Both eyes were open now. The smoke was thickening, almost visible in a cloud hovering just below the ceiling. Will sat up, slipping off the side of the bed and into his boots.

Where is all this smoke coming from? He grabbed his belt, weapons, cloak, and saddlebags while searching the room. It wasn't coming from the door or the hallway. It just rose out of nothing and gathered on the ceiling in a darkening cloud. It smelled pleasant, like a nice cedarwood fire Will would start in the forest to have a nice cup of coffee on a cold morning. Pleasant, but in a sickening way.

There was no sound, no sign of anyone else in the building below him. No shouting, no laughing, nothing. At a popular tavern like this, silence was hard to come by. The men having a raucous drinking game a few hours earlier were now deathly silent. They must have seen the fire starting and left. Abandoning all the sleeping guests to burn alive in their rooms? How hospitable of them.

The smoke gathering had now blackened, and the room was noticeably warmer. Will pulled at his collar as sweat dripped down the back of his neck. It had only been a few seconds, but the smoke was moving fast.

No time for lollygagging. Someone's either set a massive cooking fire in the kitchen, or this inn is burning down. He swung his cloak on, adjusted his quiver, and bent down to tie his boots. It was then that he noticed where the smoke was coming from.

It crept up through the floorboards, slithering along the wood panels under his feet. Dark black fingers of smoke, long and fluid, reaching through the cracks, wrapping around him, filling the room until no air remained.

Will had never seen smoke like this before.

He didn't have time to consider this fact for very long though. The room was covered by a thick cloud, and he ducked underneath it to keep from coughing. He pulled the collar of his shirt up over his nose and mouth and he bolted for the door, breaking it down with his shoulder and stumbling into the hall, all thoughts of stealth and grace forgotten. It was getting harder to breathe, even through his shirt, and his eyes were starting to burn and run with tears. His vision blurred and his head felt slow. Must be all the smoke I'm inhaling, he thought numbly.

He banged on the door across from his room, listening for anyone still inside. No answer. He squeezed his eyes shut and staggered down the hall and down the stairs, coughing violently, his hand thrust out in front of him to brace himself if he fell. As he went, he checked the other rooms. Nobody answered. He made it down one staircase, and then another. The smoke only thickened as he went down, and the air was unbearably hot now.

He made it to the first floor. As he exited the staircase, his first sight of the flames was a massive explosion in the main tavern hall to his right, where a ceiling beam crashed down and sent sparks and red hot shards flying everywhere. Will's cloak protected him from most of the flames and debris, but it was not resistant to the fire. His skin burned as the wave of heat hit him like a wall, and as he turned away from it, he saw the edges of his cloak catch fire.

His hands shook as he ripped the cloak from his body and flung it into the flames in front of him, and it immediately caught fire and blackened.

This seemed odd. Usually, when something is on fire and someone puts a lot of heavy cloth over it, it puts it out. This fire was huge, of course, so Will wasn't expecting his cloak to actually put out the fire. But he wasn't expecting it to be instantly engulfed in flames either. It just didn't seem right.

The entire bottom floor of the inn was a fiery inferno. Flames licked up the walls and across the ceiling, down the curtains and along the floorboards. Will, who was now blinded by the smoke and flames, dropped all his bags, his bow, everything that might slow him down or catch on fire, and ran for the door. His entire body was burning hot, he could feel his clothes starting to singe and the skin on his arms was turning red like a sunburn.

Through the tears and smoke in his eyes, everything was a blur, he could barely tell what direction he was going in. But he paused for a moment as he saw a white figure, standing still in a corner of the room. He started with surprise, they weren't running or coughing, in fact, they didn't seem to be affected by the heat at all. He blinked, trying to clear his vision. It was a long white dress. She had blonde hair. The arm of the figure reached out towards him, urging him to come to her.

Alyss?

But she was back at Redmont. He knew this for a fact. His eyes could barely focus, he couldn't even be sure it was her. No, it couldn't be here, it wasn't possible. He dismissed the strange vision for now. Must be some sort of hallucination because of all this smoke.

He was inches away from safety. He instinctively reached for the door handle and yelled in pain as his hand came in contact with the hot metal knob. He gasped and hissed, pressing his hand against his leg, trying to stop the pain, and threw himself against the door. It broke down after his second try in a flurry of sparks, and Will collapsed onto the front steps of the inn, sucking in the cool clean air and coughing violently.

His head was still fogged up from the smoke, his eyes were glued shut from the heat, and his skin was roasted. Perhaps this is what the ducks feel like when Master Chubb roasts them on a spit, he thought, genuinely curious. Another smoke-induced vision, he supposed.

He could feel himself losing consciousness fast. You have to move, you can't lay here. You have to get Tug. The memory of his horse was enough to wake Will from his stupor. What if the stables were on fire too? Tug was smart enough to know to escape, of course, but Will worried he had become trapped. If he lost Tug, he would be stuck here, far away from Redmont, with no horse, no belongings, no cloak, and no food. Even though he could barely breathe or see, he used his good hand to drag himself down off the steps on his stomach, and then started crawling on hands and knees across the dirt path towards the stables. No one was around, the entire street seemed to be empty. No footsteps, no shouting, no people. No one had stayed to watch the fire, or try to put it out. Everyone had fled. Another strange thing to add to his growing list of bizarre occurrences from tonight.

The tears running down his face finally cleared enough that he could see the blurry outline of the stables. He rose to his knees as he squinted down the row of horse pens. "Tug?" he croaked. He tried to speak again, but nothing came out. His eyes squeezed shut as Will sank down onto his heels, his burned hand shaking in pain. Great, I'm going to pass out here on the floor, alone, with no horse and no one around to help. Just great.

He swayed back and forth, trying desperately to stay upright, when he felt a soft nose butt gently against his face. It was slightly hairy and warm, but wonderfully familiar. "Tug," he murmured, and put his hand around the little horse's nose.

What took you so long? I thought you were going to be charred and crispy like those chickens you love to roast on a spit.

"The fire spread fast, I only barely made it," he managed to say, his voice still raspy and broken.

Well, you're only lightly singed. You'll be fine.

"We have to go - go back to the castle at Stamford. Can you take us there?"

Tug turned to one side and nodded his head as if he were saying yes, of course I can.

Will reached up to the saddle and used it to hoist himself to his feet, and then gathered a burst of energy and swung himself up into the saddle. He wrapped the reins around his good hand and leaned against Tug's neck to steady himself. "You do know how to get there, right?"

Tug's eyes rolled. I know how to get almost anywhere. I'm hurt that you doubt me. Give me a real challenge next time.

Will's head lolled down against Tug's main as he struggled to stay awake. "Good, because I don't think I can stay..." He was out before he could finish.

Tug shrugged. He started off a slow walk to make sure Will was balanced, and then broke into a steady trot. Don't worry, Will. I'll get you there as fast as I can.

He took off running down the street.

~~~~~~~~~~~

"Never in all my years here, has something happened like this." The Baron of Stamford's feet crunched along the ground, frozen with frost. The sun was just barely beginning to show above the trees and the trails of smoke still rising into the air from the charred inn were dark and gray, marring the pink sky. The air was cold and fresh, but with the ever-present lingering stench of burning wood. The three-story building had collapsed all the way down to a pile of debris and ash a meter high, a massive building reduced to a few sticks in a single night. Some small pockets of heat still remained, with little coals that sent up fresh smoke. Some of the fief's soldiers were wading through the wreckage, putting them out with water. Will and the Baron had traveled from the castle together to investigate the damage.

Will kicked what was left of the front wall, just a few inches of thin blackened wood, watching as it splintered and disintegrated. "I've never seen a building burn down that fast, never in my life. One minute there was only a hint of smoke in my room, and then only seconds later it was a massive cloud and it was easily ten degrees hotter."

The Baron nodded thoughtfully. "And you said there was no one left in the inn when you were escaping?"

"No one. I checked as many doors in the hallway as I could. No one answered. Have your men found any dead?"

"Three so far. It's impossible to tell who they are, because of... well, you know." He shifted uncomfortably. "It looks like most people escaped, only a few of the deepest and drunkest sleepers didn't make it."

Will nodded. "It could have been worse."

A soldier approached Will, and held out a flat black stone about the size of a fist. "Sir, I found this in the wreckage. Not sure what it is, but I thought you'd like to see it." Will took it, nonplussed, confused that a smooth stone would somehow be interesting to him. But he turned it over in his palm, revealing something carved into the stone. No, not carved, forged. Someone had intentionally heated up the stone and pressed a design into the surface. It was a strange symbol, a humanoid shape with boxy features, crudely sketched, filled in with cross-hatching. It had lines where its hands should have been, and it had no face. It was eerie, not something Will had ever seen before.

Will held it out to the Baron. "Have you ever seen this before?"

He shook his head truthfully. "No, I've no idea."

Will tucked the stone into his pocket thoughtfully. It was impossible to know if it was just a strange belonging of someone who had been staying there, or if there was another reason this stone had appeared. It was, after all, it was designed to survive in the flames. The idea of it being planted there as a symbol of something wasn't far fetched, but without more information, he was grasping at straws. There wasn't enough evidence, not enough proof for this to mean anything yet.

Will turned away from the soldier, dismissing him, and addressed the Baron again. "Have any of the other fiefs had any similar fires?"

The Baron didn't answer. He just stared down at the ground, a guilty posture. He was a rough man, Will had decided. Nice enough, and relatively sensible, but resistant to sharing information.

"Has this happened before, my lord?"

"A fire like this? Here? No, of course not," he said gruffly. He sounded almost defiant.

Will's eyes narrowed. "Here, perhaps not. But what about any nearby fiefs? Did they have any reports of strange fires?"

The Baron shifted his feet. "That's not really my business, you know. It's not my fief, after all."

Will had to resist rolling his eyes. "But it's my business. And I need to know. I don't have time to wait for you to decide to share it." He locked eyes with the Baron, and saw his stubbornness break down against the Ranger's glare.

He stuttered over his own words. It seemed he did have a healthy fear of Rangers, especially when that Ranger was Will Treaty. "There have been only a couple more, reported in the fiefs around Stamford. Just some small buildings, only a couple deaths. We all thought they were accidents, nothing strange was reported. No one escaped, no eyewitnesses. I didn't think anything of it."

Will surveyed the burned wreckage. A few small fires, here and there around the Solitary Plains, all recent. It could be a coincidence, but it also might not be.

"Thank you for your help. I have to get going, but I'll be sending a report back with the decision of the Princess Regent. We will take the investigation from here, and if anything new happens, you write to me straight away. Got it?"

The Baron's eyes widened. "The Princess Regent? Since when does she care about a random inn that's burned down?"

"She doesn't, not yet. But if any more fires occur, she will." Will mounted Tug. "A series of strange fires in this area isn't something to ignore. If anything else burns down, we need to be the first to know."

The Baron nodded, still shocked that something had happened in Stamford that was important enough to demand the Princess's attention.

"Let me know if anything happens!" Will called over his shoulder as Tug started to trot down the road away from the remains of the inn.

Will reached up instinctively to adjust his bow over his cloak, only to remember that both had been discarded during his narrow escape the previous night. He felt strange without his bow and cloak, almost naked. Nothing to conceal him, and nothing to shoot with. His arrows had been a bit singed, but after a thorough inspection, they seemed fine. Not much good without a bow to shoot them with, though. His clothes were lightly burned, his hand was bandaged heavily with burn salve as a result of being patched up at Castle Stamford the night before, and he smelled like a walking fire pit even after washing up, but he was alright.

As hard as he tried, his mind kept returning to the strange vision of Alyss standing in the flames of the inn, reaching out to him. He was sure it had been Alyss - not the real thing, but an image of her. He touched the stone in his pocket, and then shook himself from his thoughts.

"Time to go home, Tug. We've got a good story for Gilan this time."

He'll smell you coming.

Will smiled. "Trust me, I know. These clothes need to be retired immediately unless I want to go around smelling like a campfire."

Good idea, but don't take them off yet. I don't really fancy you traveling naked for the next few days.

"Alright, fine, I won't. But only for you, since I know you'd be embarrassed." Will laughed, and Tug snorted, tossing his head.

I'd buck you off and leave you in the dust.

"You're such a loyal horse, Tug. Always so quick to threaten me."

Tug huffed. Are you doubting that I wouldn't throw you twenty meters without a second thought?

Will could feel his back muscles bunching up in an all too familiar way. "No, no, I'm not doubting you at all, please don't!"

Tug's back relaxed. Can't have you getting too comfortable, can we? If a horse could smirk, Tug would have.

Will rolled his eyes and sat back in the saddle. "You keep me on my toes. And apparently, you even keep me clothed. What would I do without you?"

Nothing. You'd be sitting at Redmont with Alyss all day, doing nothing, or dead.

Alyss. Will sat straight up again, tapping the reins, excited to get moving. "Let's go home. We've got reports to make, and this'll be a long trip."

They trotted off through the trees towards Redmont.