Child of Fire

by Harry Connolly

  Everything in the room was charred and blackened. The acrid stink of smoke burned my nose and eyes. I couldn’t see Annalise anywhere. Hammer stumbled back against the tower window, clutching at his throat.

  The inside of his mouth was as black as the room around me. The fire had cooked him as it came out. But as I watched, his lips turned pink, and his mouth and throat healed as quickly as Arlene’s ravaged throat had.

  I shot him.

  I tried to fire a short burst up the center of his body, from crotch to forehead, but the Uzi kicked like crazy, and the trail of bullets tore through his shoulder instead. Charles Hammer the Third stumbled back and fell out the tower window.

  I ran across the room, feeling the burned wood wobble dangerously under my feet. I reached the window before he struck the rocks below. I saw him hit. Hard. He was still.

  I noticed a piece of silver wire set into the windowsill. It ran from the hoop on the floor out the window and then down the side of the tower. I wondered what was at the other end. I also wondered when my iron gate was going to stop throbbing.

  Then I saw Hammer lift his arm. Damn. The gun and the rocks hadn’t finished him. He wasn’t dead.

  I turned back to the trapdoor, wondering if Annalise had managed to leap out a window, too, when I saw her. I had run right past her without recognizing her.

  She was burned. Her skin and clothes were blackened and shriveled. She was not burned down to her bones, she was too tough for that, but her mouth gaped wide and her little hands were curled into fists. She held them as though she was about to knock my head off. She was absolutely still. She was gone.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  I knelt beside her and touched her face. Her skin crumpled like burned paper, and hot grease scorched my fingertips.

  Damn damn damn. I wanted her back.

  I ran down the tower stairs. I didn’t know how much time I had before he healed himself, but I knew it wasn’t much. My mind was racing, wondering why Annalise had deliberately sacrificed her life for mine, wondering whether the ghost knife or the silver blade I’d taken from behind the door would do the job the Uzi couldn’t, whether my iron gate would ever stop hurting, and whether the pain from my iron gate meant that more kids were burning to death even as I ran after their killer.

  I reached the bottom of the stairs.

  Through the thick Plexi enclosure around the causeway, I saw Charles Hammer struggling across the huge black rocks. Then I noticed the tumble of broken gray stones among the volcanic black. That was where the rest of the castle had collapsed.

  There was a twenty-foot drop below the causeway, and I knew I couldn’t jump down onto the jagged black rocks. I slid the ghost knife through the Plexi, cutting out a section that was eight feet by five feet. It fell across the rocks.

  I lowered myself out the hole and dropped onto the plastic. It bowed under my weight but didn’t snap. I scrambled across it and out onto the rocks.

  Hammer was a good thirty yards ahead of me. He seemed to be heading southeast, although I couldn’t imagine where he was running. The town was to the northeast; if he wanted help or protection from the people of Hammer Bay, he was headed the wrong way. As far as I could tell, the only thing to the southeast was forest and mountain.

  I kept after him, my ghost knife between my teeth, silver knife in my pocket, and the Uzi banging against my knee as I leaped from rock to rock. I considered dumping the gun. It had already proven less than useful, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I needed all the weapons I could get.

  Annalise had told me not to go after Hammer by myself. She had said he was too much for me. She was probably right. But I had just touched her burned face. I couldn’t let that go. I couldn’t run away.

  I focused on the rocks, trying to increase my speed to shut off my thoughts. Now wasn’t the time to think about my boss. Now was the time to figure out what Charles Hammer had become, where his silver wire led, and how hard I was going to kill him.

  I looked up from the rocks I’d been navigating. Hammer had vanished. Cursing furiously, I tried to rush toward the spot where I’d seen him last. I hoped he had entered a cave or fallen down a well. If he had turned invisible or something, I really was out of my league, and I was headed in the wrong direction.

  But I kept going forward, hopping from rock to rock, occasionally looking up to see if he had reappeared from behind some low hill of stones.

  I jumped over a rock and stumbled across a flat pile of stones. It was a collapsed wall, and I could see a piece of gray, pitted wooden furniture jutting out from behind the rocks. Beside it was a small pile of broken crockery. I was standing on the collapsed castle.

  I hopped the last few rocks to the spot where Hammer had vanished. Nothing. I couldn’t see a thing there, except for a strip of faded red cloth and a smashed grandfather clock that had spent decades exposed to the weather. I looked all around. If he had turned invisible, he could come right up behind me and burn me to a cinder before I even knew he was there.

  I noticed an open spot between two of the rocks. I leaped toward it.

  And there it was. I was standing at the top of a stone stairwell that led down into the earth.

  I leaped onto the stairs and started down. After about ten feet, the smooth gray stone walls became jagged cave. It quickly became very dark, and I didn’t have any sort of light. Again I was reminded of Annalise’s warning, and again I shut it out. She had just saved my life. I wasn’t going to let this guy go.

  I slowed a bit. The light became more dim. I could still see, but not well. How much farther?

  I reached the bottom of the stairs. There were two tunnels, one off to my left, another to the right. I listened for the sound of Hammer’s footsteps, but I couldn’t hear anything except the ocean.

  Damn. Which way? One tunnel went almost directly south, the other went west-northwest. The latter led toward a section of the collapsed building; the former led away from it. There were good reasons for choosing either.

  I noticed a glimmer on the wall. It was the silver wire. It ran just below the ceiling and vanished into the darkness of the northwest tunnel. I reached up and ran my fingers over it, feeling the rusted U of iron that held it in place against the stone.

  I followed it. As I moved into the darkness, I put the ghost knife into my pocket and slung the gun over my back. I trailed my left hand along the wire, making sure that it didn’t turn down some unseen tunnel or vanish into a rock wall. I held my right hand in front of me and stumbled down the cave.

  The floor was about as flat and smooth as a path in the forest, which was better than I expected. I wasn’t sure if it was man-made or not. I had no way to know; I was just grateful that I didn’t have to climb over jagged rocks in the dark.

  The ground sloped upward, then turned downward again. Before I went below the edge of the slope, I turned around and looked at the entrance to the tunnel behind me. The golden sunlight of the afternoon still glowed there. I turned around and went down into the dark.

  Moving through that tunnel was slow work. It annoyed me that I couldn’t hear anything but ocean sounds echoing off the stone. I wanted to hear footsteps or the sounds of Hammer cursing as he bumped his head in the dark. I wanted evidence that I was on the right path.

  I followed the tunnel as it curved to the right, then to the left, and sloped down. I thought I might be somewhere under the house, but it was pointless to try to map my progress. I just kept my hand on the wire and continued.

  I suddenly stepped in hot water. I yelped in fear and jumped backward, striking my head against something. I listened carefully. The ocean sounds were very loud.

  I stepped forward. The water sloshed over my shoe and retreated, then washed up again. This was the ocean. The waves were washing back and forth along the tunnel. I waded into it for a couple of steps, getting wet up to my knees. Why was the water so hot? Maybe there was some sort of volcano nearby.

  I waded out farther. The water was hot, but it wasn’
t scalding. I told myself that some people spend a lot of money to submerge themselves in swirling hot water. The tunnel angled down and I quickly reached the point where it went under the water.

  Damn. Had Hammer really gone this way? I didn’t want to drown down here in the dark, but this was where the silver wire led. I also hated the idea of letting Hammer go because I didn’t have the nerve to follow him. I took a deep breath, then another, then I ducked my head under the water and pulled myself along the rocks through the tunnel.

  I didn’t open my eyes. What was the point when I couldn’t see anything out of the water, either? But I remembered all those little gray worms. I imagined them all around, trying to wriggle under my skin.

  I tried to clear my mind. Too much imagination was not in my best interests right now. I kept moving, pulling myself along the bottom of the tunnel. My chest grew tight. If I didn’t find air, I was going to have to turn around very soon.

  No. I was not going to turn around. I was going to reach the far side or I was going to drown here and rot. If Charles Hammer came this way, so could I.

  Unless Hammer had magic that let him see in the dark and breathe underwater. Or unless he took the south tunnel, because this one had been blocked by the collapsing castle.

  I didn’t want to think about that, because it was already too late to turn back.

  My lungs were burning. I held on even though I knew it was too late. I had gone too far. I had gambled and lost.

  I reached for the next rock, but it wasn’t there. I panicked, letting air bubble out of my mouth. Then I found a handhold a little farther away.

  The cave was sloping upward again. I pulled myself along the rocks, praying that I wouldn’t slam my head against a stone and drown myself.

  I broke the surface and took a gulp of stale, heavy air. It stank of salt and steam, and I didn’t get enough oxygen out of it. I clung to the rocks, desperately sucking in air.

  After a minute or so, my heart stopped racing and the spots stopped dancing in front of my eyes. The air was close here, but it wasn’t going to kill me.

  And I saw a light. There was a very faint light coming from somewhere above me.

  I laughed aloud. Light. Just seeing it up there gave me strength.

  The cave was vertical here. I grabbed the nearest rock and began to climb. The rocks were wet and slick, but I moved slowly and steadily toward the light.

  Partway up, I caught the Uzi strap on a rock. I had a sudden chill thinking about what would have happened if it had caught while I was under the water.

  I reached the top of the wall and crawled over the lip. Ahead, I could see the bend in the cave. Light was coming from somewhere around that bend, and I crawled to it. The air was fresher here, but it was also thick with steam. I stood. The roof was too low for me, but I hunched along, going farther and farther upslope. There, against the wall and spattered with mud, was the tarnished silver wire.

  I followed the bend in the tunnel, checking my pockets for the ghost knife and the silver knife. They were both there. I tilted the Uzi this way and that, draining as much of the water out of it as I could.

  The tunnel exit was narrow. I peered through it. Below me was a broad cavern made of volcanic rock. A thin stream of water ebbing back and forth along the far wall and clouds of steam billowed against the roof, just above my head. The whole place was lit by a bright, flickering source of light from somewhere to the left.

  I squeezed through the opening into the cavern. Charles Hammer was not in sight. There was a second cavern to the left. Maybe he had already gone toward the source of the firelight.

  Beside me a path ran along the upper edge of the cavern, but there didn’t seem to be any way down except by free climbing the cavern wall or flying. I wasn’t about to do either.

  At that moment, I heard a pained grunt echo against the rocks. I stepped back into the narrow opening behind me. Charles Hammer climbed through a small opening in the far right wall of the cavern, then ran along a wooden walkway. He went straight for the second cavern on the left.

  The bastard had taken the other path. He must have gone the long way around because he thought the way I went was impassable.

  It was too far to shoot accurately with a submachine gun, even if I thought it would do some good. And he was definitely too far for me to throw the ghost knife.

  I started along the high ledge, trying my best to match his pace. He was quick though, and the ledge was slick and precarious. Even with the shortcut I had taken, he was still ahead of me.

  My biggest advantage was that he hadn’t seen me yet. I lifted the gun and rushed ahead. Hammer reached the opening into the second cavern.

  I came to the end of the path. Below me was a long flight of stone stairs chiseled into the wall. I started down. I could hear Hammer’s sneakers thumping against the wooden boards.

  After about fifteen feet, I came to a break in the wall. It was a little window into the second cavern. I looked through.

  I saw it.

  Not very long ago I used a stolen spell to reveal the predators that move through the Empty Spaces, searching for worlds full of life like our own. They were strange creatures made of stone or color or motion-terrifyingly alien creatures living in a terrifyingly alien environment. What I saw through that opening in the cavern wall gave me chills. I was looking down at one of those predators.

  It was a huge wheel of fire, maybe 150 feet tall and partially submerged in a pool of ocean water. Steam billowed up around it, filling the cavern and dripping down the walls.

  Charles Hammer approached the creature. From within the wheel, a huge flaming eye opened up and looked down at him.

  I ducked down below the opening and held my breath. Goose bumps ran up and down my whole body. It was alive. The wheel of fire was alive and it was here, on Earth. I peeked through the opening again and saw what I’d expected to see-a thick circle of shining silver surrounded it. The silver was inscribed with sigils, and it was untarnished. From where I stood, it looked clean and new. I noticed the silver wire running through the opening, down the cavern wall, and toward the silver ring. By squinting, I could see where it connected. I jerked my hand away from the wire. What if the wheel could sense me touching it, the way a spider could sense movement on its web?

  Christ, what was I supposed to do about this? I slid to the steps, ducking down out of sight. This was the source of Hammer’s power, and I was sure it had been here for decades.

  I took out my ghost knife and held it up. It was just a piece of laminated paper. What good would it be against that massive wheel of fire? The silver knife wouldn’t be much better. And that assumed that I had the nerve to cross the silver ring that held it in place. What if attacking it also set if free?

  Annalise was right. I was completely out of my league.

  They love to be summoned, but they hate to be held in place. I peeked through the opening again. I couldn’t see any sign of anger in that massive eye. I couldn’t see any malevolence, just a tremendous power and tremendous otherness.

  Charles Hammer stood before the ring, his arms raised above his head. He was shouting to it, imploring it the way a man might plead with a cruel god, but the echoes in the cavern garbled his words so thoroughly that I couldn’t understand them.

  I felt a sudden spasm in the iron gate on my chest, the most powerful one yet. I could feel waves of power flowing out of the wheel of fire, pressing hard against me.

  On the cavern floor, Hammer had fallen to the wooden walkway. He writhed in agony, clutching at the same spot on his back where Cynthia had her iron gate. Then, suddenly, he relaxed, rolled onto his knees, and pressed his forehead against the boards. I might have thought he was praying if he hadn’t been shuddering with gasps and sobs.

  Something began to rain down from the ceiling, dropping through the steam and landing around Hammer. At first, I thought the roof was caving in, but the objects were small and the shower ended quickly.

  Hammer looked around him as
the fallen objects began to move, then he lifted his arms in helpless misery.

  I realized what the falling objects were. Another kid had burned to death, and these were the gray worms created by the fire.

  The worms scuttled across the uneven stone floor toward the far side of the cavern. I craned my neck and looked at the spot where they were heading.

  There, I saw a second wheel lying on its side.

  This one was not made of fire. It was simply a mass of wriggling worms in the shape of a wheel. It was much smaller than the burning wheel, and it was not surrounded by a silver ring. The worms crawled and wriggled in a clockwise direction, giving the impression that the wheel was slowly turning.

  It was a child. The wheel of fire was using the bodies of the children of Hammer Bay to create a second wheel, one not held in place by a magical binding.

  Hammer turned back to the burning wheel, pleading with it some more. The fiery eye did not react, did not seem angry. It just stared at him implacably.

  There was no way those worms were ever, ever going to be turned back into human children.

  Hammer kicked at a section of wood, flipping it over. Underneath was another silver hoop, very much like the one in his tower. He stepped into it.

  My iron gate flared white hot. The world went dark.

  I woke up slowly. I don’t know how long I had lain there on the stone steps, but I hadn’t soiled my shorts, and I wasn’t dying of thirst. It couldn’t have been longer than a couple hours, although it might have been only a few seconds. I jumped up and looked through the opening in the wall.

  Hammer was out of the hoop, crawling across the rocky floor of the cavern toward the baby wheel. Gray worms clung to his clothes and hair as he laboriously scuttled from one jagged rock to the next. He moved dreamily, as though he was sleepwalking.

  He reached the edge of a long slab beside the smaller wheel. Now that he was next to it, I had some sense of its scale. It was at least forty feet in diameter.

  Hammer plucked the worms off of his clothes and hair and tossed them onto the wheel. Then he stood among the rocks and lifted his head as though taking a deep breath.