FSE

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57

There was light all around her, but not a good kind of light. Not a comforting light. This light was heavy, runny, almost like melted cheese, dripping down the walls of this place in thick, goopy strands.

Her head hurt. Bethany raised a hand to her temple and winced at the sharp sting of pain, but when she pulled her fingers back to check if there was any blood, she noticed she didn't really have a hand at all, just the idea of one. Sure, she could still feel it, could even curl it into a fist, but her hand (her entire arm, for that matter) was no more corporeal than the thick haze of smoke winding around her head, burning her eyes and scratching her throat. This realisation didn't bother her as much as it probably should have. This entire place only seemed half-real anyway, so why should she be any different? No, what really bothered her was this crippling sense of urgency deep down in the pit of her stomach, telling her that she had to get moving, that she was running out of time. But... time to do what? If only she could think properly, but it felt like someone had taken a frying pan to her head...

(Great, moaning crack, huge black hand tearing through the roof.)

She felt dizzy just thinking about it.

She tried to call out, but her lungs were full of smoke and she doubled over, coughing into hands that weren't really there, hacking and spluttering, blinking tears out of her eyes and -

Salem, how many times have I told you not to smoke that thing in here when I'm cooking!

Salem? Where was Salem, anyway? She wanted to... wanted to...

Kiana! Where's your father? He's not in the smithy. Kiana?

_That girl, I swear she's gone off somewhere, too. _

Yes, she's gone to visit Ander, I bet.

That's good, I'm sure he'll keep her safe. He'll definitely keep her safe.

Safe? Bethany turned in small circles, trying to see through the thick plumes of smoke. Why would she think something like that? Why 'safe'? What was there to be kept 'safe' from? Was she in danger?

Salem? Salem, where are you?

Was that what this urgent feeling was about? Was she supposed to find Salem and Kiana? How? She had no idea where they were.

My family! Where is my family!? Salem! Kiana!

The more she called their names, the more she was certain that they needed her, and that time was indeed running out.

She stumbled through the smoke, shielding her watering eyes against the thick runners of molten light and coughing into the crook of her elbow. She couldn't do this alone. She needed help.

Layla! she called, squinting into the light. Layla, where are you? I need you!

"I'm right here, Mother."

Oh, Layla, thank goodness! Bethany said, turning around. I need -

Layla was on fire, completely engulfed from the tips of her toes to the crown of her head. A living, breathing torch. Her dress was slowly falling apart, shedding bits and pieces of burning fabric. Flames licked at her face, scorching her fur, making them blacken and curl. Her hair was fanning out in all directions, caught in a blazing updraft of hot air. But worst of all was the smile on her face, completely carefree, as if she was oblivious to the fire eating away at every inch of her body.

"Hello, Mother!" she said, the absolute picture of good cheer even as the flames wrapped their greedy fingers around her muzzle and blisters began to form on her nose and lips. "Is there anything I can help you with?"

Layla! Bethany shrieked. Oh gods, Layla, you're burning! You're burning!

"What?" Layla tilted her blazing head and regarded her as if she had gone crazy, but that horrid smile never left her face. "Mother, you're so silly! As you can see, I'm perfectly fine. There's no need to worry about me."

"Layla!" Bethany tried to beat at the flames with her bare hands, but it was no use. She was little more than a ghost in this place. Completely useless. She couldn't even thread a needle, let alone protect her family! She'd already lost one daughter tonight, and Salem -

(Out of my way, please! I have to - Excuse me, please! Salem! Salem, wake up, we have to get out of here!)

(I have to find Layla, we have to move, they're coming they're coming where's Kiana I have to find Kiana my family oh dear gods my family!)

"Really, Mother, I'm fine," Layla insisted even as her skin began to peel and crack. "But is there anything I can do for you? Anything you need help with?"

Thick, burning hunks of meat were beginning to slough off her face, peeling away like the pages of a book, revealing layers of scorched muscle and sizzling fat. Blood poured down her face in rivulets, hissing and bubbling, sending dark plumes of fragrant smoke into the air, smoke that smelled just like roasted pork. That stink was everywhere, flowing up Bethany's nostrils, the stench of her daughter, burning alive before her very eyes.

"I'm here for you, Mother. I'll always be here."

Bethany backed away slowly, shaking her head, whimpering because no real words would come out anymore. And still, still that smile was stuck on Layla's face, stuck there because she felt it _had_to be stuck there, because to drop it would be to send her mother completely over the deep end. She was barely holding herself together, worrying about Kiana, about everyone. She had to do what she could, even at the expense of herself. Just to keep her mother together, just to give her enough strength to keep going, just to...

"I'm fine, Mother... I'm totally fine..." A chunk of meat fell off her forehead, revealing the slick shelf of bone beneath. Her left ear slid down the side of her face, followed shortly after by her right, both of them engulfed in flames. Pitch black lumps of meat dropped down from her jaws. Her eyes swelled and popped like a pair of grapes in the overwhelming heat and hung, deflated, against her cheeks, and now she was nothing but a burning skull, hellfire blazing from her empty sockets. But still that smile was stuck to her face, still that smile refused to disappear.

"I'm fine, Mother. Can't you see me smiling? This is proof of how fine I am. So please... Please..." She reached out with one bony arm clad in searing, scorching flame. "Please don't worry about me. Please just take care of Father. And Hezzi. And little Renna. And everyone else who needs your help right now. They're all depending on you, Mother. They all..."

Layla took Bethany's hand in hers, but it wasn't skeletal at all. It wasn't burning. It was just her youngest daughter's hand, the same as it always was, with the bright orange fur and the dainty fingers.

Bethany raised her head, her cheeks washed in tears, and Layla was looking into her eyes with such kindness. There wasn't a trace of fire anywhere.

"They need you, Mother," she said. "They all need you. So please... You need to -