Chapter 20
Jefferson automatically turned towards the inn, but the wind picked up, and acrid, black smoke filled his nose. Not a bonfire. He saw the smoke rising above the inn’s roof, and in the winter silence, he heard the first snap of wood buckling in the heat. Jefferson’s heart lodged in his throat, and he began to run. He didn’t feel the snow beneath his feet. He barely heard the crunch as he ground the ice beneath his heel. As he raced towards the church, other sounds began to filter past his ear.
Singing.
Shouting.
The bell in the steeple chiming furiously. Ringing, ringing, ringing, in his head, in his ears, vibrating in his blood.
No. No. Please.
He rounded the corner of the inn, and immediately began to cough. The orange flames licking the base of the church were brighter t
