City of Blaze
by H. O. Charles
She noticed how her footfalls reverberated around the tunnel while his did not. How did such a tall man walk with no sound at all? There must be something special about his boots, she decided. They reached the gate where Morghiad took the key from her hand, sending the usual flow of sparks and flame through her limbs. She still hadn’t quite become accustomed to it, and was increasingly frustrated at Morghiad’s utter lack of reaction.
“Stay.” He held his hand up at her and then proceeded through the gate. She could see through its iron rails that he was making straight for the cloak, now dangling limply from the cell door. The cloak shuddered and waved suddenly. It was still being held tightly by the prisoner, who was evidently proud of his prize and unable to pull it through the hole in the door. With startling speed, Morghiad snatched the prisoner’s arm and thrust it downwards. From beyond the cell door the arm’s owner screamed and released the cloak, which Morghiad caught neatly. The prisoner withdrew his arm into the cell door, whimpering quietly. Upon silent feet, the kahr returned to Artemi with the reclaimed cloak and handed it to her.
“Thank you,” she uttered. Then, “Did you break his arm?” She wasn’t sure she wanted to know the answer.
“Probably. You’d better hope they don’t talk.” He locked the gate, gave her the key and walked on. The man was inhuman! Did he have no sensibilities at all? What was to stop him from snapping her neck if she angered him? She decided to keep a little more distance behind him.
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