Page 257 of Seasons of War
“This may not be the dinner we'd normally enjoy,” he said. “But it will have to do.”
Gross. He had terrorized everyone he came in contact with today and still had an appetite. “Can I wash up a bit first? I feel dirty.”
“Fine. Hurry.”
A thin tendril of smoke drifted up from her contraption in the bathroom.
Yes!
She blew on it, hoping it would spark. This fire would be uncontrollable once it grew, but she'd take that over the captain any day. Either she escaped or died. He wouldn't have her.
Miya filled the tub with water, jumping when the outlet sparked.
Red flame bit through her clothes. With quiet steps, Miya returned to feed her fire, holding each garment to the flame.
“Hurry, woman.”
She winced at his voice.
The water pouring into the bathtub covered Miya’s noise as she worked. Carefully, she took down the shower rod and wrapped the curtain around it before spreading her burning clothes over it.
Flames ate across the plastic, melting holes everywhere it touched. It’d started, and she couldn’t stop it now.
Sweat hugged the nape of her neck, and she dipped her head into the tub, wetting her hair. Drawing in a breath so deep it filled her stomach, Miya left her fire to burn and joined the captain at the table.
But she could hardly remain seated. Her hands trembled.
“You don't need to be afraid,” he said. “We're only having dinner.”
Miya nodded and picked up her sandwich, certain she couldn't take a bite.
The captain straightened. “What's that smell?”
“I don't smell anything.” She clasped her chair. Prepared to move fast.
“It smells like smoke.”
“You burned a house down today. Maybe the smell is stuck in your nose.”
His eyes narrowed. “Is that…”
Miya jumped from her chair and carried it with her as she sprinted for the bathroom. The surprise gave her a precious head start before he bounded around the table after her. She slammed the door in his face, shoving the chair beneath the knob.
The captain rammed into it.
“Open it!” He beat against the door, rattling everything in the room.
The fire had engulfed the clothes and the curtain rod and darkened the floor. Miya crawled into the tub and submerged herself.
He beat on the door again, his voice warped by the water. “What are you doing? You'll kill yourself!”
Hopefully not, but she'd made her choice.
She slid her pants off, wrapping them around her arm and over her hand. Then she covered her mouth with her shirt.
“Open the door, or I'll make the call. I'll send them to Lance first. Then the children back in his village.”
Miya didn't say a word. She waited in the tub while the fire spread, and the plastic melted against the rug. Heat beat away at her face.
