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A trampling of hooves came from the underbrush.

My horse had fled. I was alone.

I breathed in deep, letting the smoke fill my lungs.

Another thunderclap. Closer this time. The ground beneath me shook, and involuntarily, I shuddered.

Hands, firm and unyielding, suddenly seized me, dragging me from my stupor and lifting me off the ground.

Hoisted to my feet, I was dragged, stumbling forward, a strong arm wrapping around my waist to guide me.

Odessa.

She did not speak.

Billowing smoke curled and twisted around us. I coughed, tasting ash in the air.

Odessa moved forward, dragging me with her, pulling me between raining embers and falling branches.

I stumbled.

A cracking sound above.

I lifted my face to see a flaming branch descending like an incandescent meteor.

I closed my eyes.

There was a sizzling hiss, a grunt of pain.

The unfamiliar but unmistakable scent of burning flesh.

I opened my eyes. Odessa’s arm was still raised, her teeth gritted.

She had shielded me.

The sight of her arm was what forced fear into me at last. Torn cloth and melted flesh, blood dripping to the forest floor.

We flew between the trees, running together, hand in hand, until finally the smoke and the flames were far behind us.

The thunder had passed.

Only the rain remained.

Odessa was already binding her wound. Standing there in the shadows with only the burning grove behind us for light, I watched as she tore a strip of cloth from the hem of her tunic, then stooped to pluck some large leaves from a nearby bush. Pressing them against her arm, she winced.

I made a motion as if to help, then forced my arms to my sides. Everything I touched I destroyed. It was better not to try.

Winding the torn strip of cloth around the makeshift dressing, she secured it in place with practiced precision.

As she finished, she met my gaze. I tried not to look away. Tried. Failed.

I waited for the inevitable questions.

What happened?

What did you do?

Why were you there?