Tale of Flames #3: Smoldering in the Sun

Flames

Flames

Julianne Scott, Storyteller

Flame was poked down the hallway with the blunt end of the guard’s evil-looking spear. “Faster,” the guard growled. She moved her feet a bit faster-only because she didn’t want her heart ripped out with that fish-hook spear.

She glared at her escort out of the corner of her eye. Out of what she could see, he was glaring right back. Punk, she thought grumpily, although the guard was a few years older than her.

The guard poked her around a corner, and then another, and then another. Who designed this place? Flame thought evilly, wanting to poke them in the eye.

Finally, finally, the guard stopped in front of yet another door. “In here,” the guard whispered, shoving her inside. The room was actually dimly lit, which was a great improvement over the cell she’d shared with Cheesy, which was the nickname she’d given the stranger.

The strange thing was, she could actually see a window and a door that was visibly unlocked. “Why, in the name of all the planets in the sky, would you bring me here?” Flame snapped, ignoring the ache of longing as she saw the beams of sunlight streaming through the window.

“I’m helping you escape, that’s why,” the guard hissed, still using an exceptionally low voice. “See that door? There’s an invisible word lock on it. You just have to say ‘mozzarella’ and the door will open.” Why is everyone obsessed with cheese here? she thought, picking a knot out of her bright red hair.

“All right,” she said hastily before the guard changed his mind. She broke away from him. He marched from the room and slammed the door behind him.

Flame crawled over to the door, circling the door suspiciously. It could electrocute her, or worse: kill her.

“Mozzarella,” she whispered, and closed her eyes.

Flame stared at the dark backs of her eyelids. She braced herself for the pain, the humiliation, the anger. Instead, only an orange light rose up in her vision.

She opened her eyes and found the door open.