Tomas was sound asleep when the sound of running and shouting drove him back to consciousness. He had fallen asleep the moment his head had hit the pillow after the long day of searching the town, so when he heard the noises, it took him a moment to fully comprehend what was happening.

His mind sluggish, he sat up and looked around. The night was dark, hardly a light to be seen. Except for one. He had to blink a few times before it fully registered.

Fire. Out of his window, small though it was, he could see flames flickering across the night sky, licking at the stars above. Astonishment crept over his features, and he froze where he was, perched on the edge of his bed, watching the flames dance for a long moment.

Then, with a hardly a second thought, he clambered out of his bed and pulled on his shoes in one swift motion. He headed for the door, but then turned, remembering his bag. He ran back across the room and swung it over his shoulder before dashing to the door and out with a speed that verged on panic.

While the dance of the inferno was entrancing, beautiful in it’s own deadly way, the sight struck a chord of terror deep within him. It was a dangerous beauty, the kind of predator that would hypnotize you before devouring you whole. He had been raised to fear the wolves, for fear that they would kill one of the goats, but something he had come to realize was that even the wolves were afraid of flame. And if he was meant to be afraid of them, should he not be even more scared of that which frightened them?

He pulled open the heavy wood door that led out to the hall, and a wave of heat hit him. He choked on the heat for a moment, pushed back in surprise. How had the fire grown so large in such a short time?

He realized then that he didn’t even know how long the fire had raged. How much of it had he slept through? How much of the inn had the fire claimed already?

A group of men rushed by him, shouting, their footsteps pounding on the wooden floor boards and echoing around the hall. The sound of fire crackling could be heard in the direction they were headed, carrying buckets of water. Silently, Tomas couldn’t help but think that a few measly buckets of water would do little to quench the monster’s thirst. A rainstorm, maybe, but a few men and some buckets? Hardly the sort of heroics it would take to save the inn.

He coughed then, smoke getting into his lungs and scratching at his throat. Covering his mouth, he hurried on his way, towards the stairs. He was lucky his room was on this end of the hall, the opposite direction of the fire. Others, he had no doubt, were not so lucky.

The thought made him take pause. He glanced over his shoulder, another cough wracking his body. Surely if anyone was left they’d have gotten out themselves?

You almost didn’t, a small thought whispered at the back of his mind, surprising him. No one came to get you. You could have died. But the noise was so loud… and the heat…

Another, more horrifying thought struck him, cutting off his train of thought abruptly. Dove. His head turned to where her room was. If he hadn’t woken, and if she had not come to wake him, who was to say what had happened to her?

He cut off his thoughts himself this time, refusing to let his imagination run away. Just because he hadn’t woken didn’t mean she hadn’t. Perhaps she was downstairs looking for him already. Did she even know where his room was?

Of course she did, another small thought whispered. She would have come looking for you. You know that. Wake up.

And with that, he found himself heading back up the hall, towards Dove’s room. He swallowed, his throat dry, and he had to push back the selfishness that reared it’s head. Dove needed him. That was all that mattered right now.

He felt as if he was walking into a hurricane. It seemed as difficult, anyway. While the fire in no way impeded his progress, unlike the wild winds of a hurricane, his paralyzing fear did. Lifting his feet to take another step seemed like one of the hardest things he had ever done. Yet he did it, again, and again, and again. One step at a time. That had always been his father’s advice to him when he felt like giving up on something.

He had to stop then and swallow hard. He rubbed at his eyes, the smoke making it hard to see. One step at a time. That was the only way to go through life, his father had told him. If you look at it as a whole, it’s a bit daunting. But one step at a time… well, anyone can take one step, can’t they?

One step. He lifted his foot. One step. He put it down. It was easy. As long as he didn’t think about the dangerous beast that was the blaze around him, he was fine. Coughing again, he continued on, thinking only of Dove, and taking it one step at a time. He could do it. He could make it.

Around him, chaos reigned, led chiefly by the surrounding inferno. The shouts of men and the splash of water raged back, but they seemed to have no effect on the beast. Smoke, almost as black as the night, obscured his vision. With every breath he took, more of it seeped into his lungs. He could almost feel the poison of it run through his body. And again selfishness reared it’s head and told him, turn back. You can’t make it any further. You tried, isn’t that enough?

For a moment, he almost could believe it. What did he owe the strange pale girl? Hadn’t he done enough? Hadn’t he done all he could? But then, the memory of her sitting by the fireplace with Esther’s dolls came to him, unbidden. He had to try.

“Hey, what are you doing here?” The sound of a man’s voice cut through the smoke. Tomas’s eyes turned in an attempt to find the source, but could only make out a shadowy figure. The man stepped closer. It was the innkeeper.

“I don’t see you holding any buckets. Why aren’t you down with the rest of the civilians?”

Tomas’s eyes were watering from the harsh smoke, and he had to cough before he could speak. “I’m looking for someone.”

“Who might that be, then? No one’s worth risking your neck up here for.”

“Then why are you up here?” The question came without thinking, and Tomas immediately regretted it. It was a stupid question.

But the man chuckled. “It’s my inn. This is my livelihood. I gotta do what I can to save the old place.” The man stepped closer. “Son, you don’t look too good. Are you sure you’re okay?”

Tomas hesitated before nodding. He was far from okay. Being encased in what seemed an inferno, it could feel the terror of before creeping up on him. It had only been held at bay as long as he kept moving.

“Look, you need to get downstairs, boy. Let me do what I can to save at least the bottom floor, alright?”

Tomas shook his head. “I have to find her,” he said, his voice almost a croak as his previous resolve came back. The innkeeper shook his head.

“Boy, if anyone was still in bed, they’re a goner.” A lump wedged itself in Tomas’s throat. “Look, I bet your girl is outside with everyone else. Why don’t you go see if you can find her there?”

“Her room… it’s right there,” Tomas protested, pointing through the smoke towards the door. He squinted at it. The door was open.

The innkeeper turned to look as well. Then he turned to look back at Tomas, his brow scrunched. “That’s the room where the fire started. It was empty when I found it.” He shook his head. “Wherever your girl is, she’s not in bed. Not in the inn, either, I’d wager.”

Tomas was hardly listening by the last sentence, his mind still focused on the first. That’s the room where the fire started. Suddenly, he turned and he dashed away in the other direction, headed for the stairs. He could hear the innkeeper shouting behind him, but he ignored it. Blocking out the chaos and noise that surrounded him, and pushing back the thought of fire, he ran for the stairs with all his might.

It had seemed to take forever to get from the stairs to Dove’s room, but the return trip lasted but a few seconds. With thoughts of everything else pushed to the back of his mind, he had no trouble concentrating on just keeping moving. He had to keep moving. He had to find her.

Why hadn’t she been in her room? How had the fire started? What had happened? Silently, he cursed himself. He should have taken better care of her. Who knew where she was now?

Again, the memory of her playing with Esther’s dolls came to mind, and his mind was seized with a crazed passion. He had to find her. He was going to find her, even if it was the last thing he did.

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A/N So, another chapter. Half of you didn't even read the last chapter yet, I don't know what I'm thinking. But I did reach 100 votes on this story, so it deserves an update x) Give it some love, will ya? Anyway, this chapter was fun to write, even though I think I made it a little bit too melodramatic. Oops. I like fire x) Sue me. Vote, comment. Don't actually sue. Bye! xx