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Prologue
The embers looked like fireflies, pouring out of the skeleton of the horticultural shop.
With his glasses crushed to dust somewhere inside and the new, aching black gulf on the right side of his vision, he could almost pretend that he was watching a theatrical lightshow. Any moment now, dancers would leap out with their faces made ethereal by golden masks and start leading the Midwinter Prayer.
But the stink of smoke digging into his skin and the heat of the flames baking the blood onto his cheek made the desire impossible to keep hold of. The roaring of the inferno echoed in his ears, drowning out the gathering crowd and ringing bells of the fire guild’s carriage.
At that moment, his knees buckled and the roof fell in.
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