CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN Pure HoneyPure honey burns, a natural incendiary. Impurity dulls its ability, reducing it to pathetic, useless embers which fail to catch. As I watched the inferno gnaw the rags on my bolt, I applauded Galveston’s taste for the finest of everything. I sent a whisper of thanks to the desolate hives he’d pillaged and ruined. Their produce would serve them posthumously in his annihilation. I waited until the armoury door stood wide and guards mingled, depositing or picking up their weaponry. They milled, unaware of the danger overlooking their casual shift change. Many looked up at their new flag and grinned, chins pointed in defiance at the black and yellow fabric flapping in a gentle breeze. None looked back at me.
Needing to keep the flame out of sight meant I took ai
