Scott's blond hair was alive with red and orange flames; he looked like a god. The skin on our bodies blackened. I rubbed my bicep and charcoal scales peeled off revealing an angry red blister beneath. I looked around; the trees were aflame and thick, black smoke surrounded us. I coughed and Scott opened his eyes. He moved away from me and I writhed about in the pile of burning leaves overwhelmed with pain. ‘The house is on fire!’ I said.
‘The candles?’ Panic mastered Scott’s face contorting his beautiful features. ‘Count backwards, quickly!’
‘Ten ... nine ... eight ...’
I looked at my body. Fire had become my skin. I shook my head. ‘We’re already dead.’
He kept counting. I took his hand and led him through the flames.
‘Five ... four ...’
In spite of the black smoke I found the pool easily. As Scott said one I pulled him down under the dark surface. Water washed the pain away. He was inches away from me, treading water and I swam towards him.
46
The water drained away and we were in Vivienne’s house, surrounded by flames. A candle had been knocked over and the mat was alight. Coughing and choking, I grabbed Scott’s hand and we staggered out of the house and stumbled through the garden. Sirens grew louder; I could hear them over the agonised screaming of my flesh. I felt something heavy being wrapped around my shoulders, covering my head and I was forced to the ground and rolled until I lost consciousness.
In a way the fire might have been a blessing. There were no arguments as to whether the house should be sold. It was beyond repair, structurally unsound. The ghosts were gone and so was everything that might tie me to my past. I was completely unburdened.
Anna's love was a beacon guiding me to a better future. I felt no fear; only excitement and wonderful potential remained. I saw Vivienne's love in Anna's eyes and knew she was proud of what I'd become. I'd taken my chance to see and forgive my mother. Tomas was distant, unwilling to play a role in this new family, but it was his choice and in time he might want to repair the wound. If so Anna and I would welcome him with open arms.
Until then I had the family I had always dreamed of. Scott and Anna filled my heart. The only thing more important than them was our work, the fight, justice and equality.
The Ballerina and the Revolutionary Page 22
