Edgewise Read Free Page B

her, but she felt preternaturally calm.
No matter how I do it, I have to get myself out of this fire, and I have to do it now.
The oak-paneled sides of the island were already blazing—they were thickly polished with beeswax and they were crackling and popping and pouring out thick black smoke. She realized that she would probably choke to death before she was actually cremated.
    She did the only thing she could think of: she bent her head forward as far as she could, hesitated for a moment, and then threw herself violently backward. Her chair tilted, rocked, but it didn’t overbalance.
    Desperate for air, she bent her head forward again, and threw herself backward a second time. There was a split second in which the chair was teetering on its back legs. Then she crashed off the island onto the floor, knocking the back of her head on the terra-cotta tiles and jarring her spine.
    Gasoline flames were still dancing all around the island, but on the tiles they had almost burned themselves out. She managed to kick herself away from the island with one blistered foot, and rock the chair onto its left side. She rocked it again, and again, until she had rolled herself clear of the fire, almost as far as the kitchen door.
    She felt bruised, and half-concussed, and she was quaking with shock. The kitchen door was shut, but Sergeant was still furiously barking and the smoke alarm was screeching. That worried her more than anything. If Tasha and Sammy were still in the house, surely the noise would have woken them up, and they would have hurried downstairs to find out what was happening. She prayed that those two figures in black hadn’t hurt them.
    The island was still burning in the center of the kitchen, spitting out sparks. As she watched, the oak work-surface collapsed sideways, and two drawers fell out, showering cutlery all over the floor.
    â€œTasha!” she croaked. “Sammy!” Her throat was raw and she couldn’t shout any louder.
“Tasha!”
The two figures in black could still be in the house, and if they heard her calling out, they might come back and finish her off; but right at this moment she didn’t care. She just needed to know that her children were safe.
    She cried out again, but there was no reply. The fire was dying down, although the smoke was billowing much more densely. Lily lifted up her hands as if she were praying and started to bite at the cords around her wrists. The figure with the demon’s horns had tied her painfully tight, and she had to gnaw at the cord until her gums bled. But the knots weren’t complicated, and gradually she managed to tug one end loose, and then another. After three or four minutes she was able to untie her waist and her ankles and climb unsteadily onto her feet.
    She hobbled to the utility room and let Sergeant out. He stopped barking and circled worriedly around her legs, his tail lashing from side to side.
    â€œSteady, boy,” she coughed. “Quiet now.”
    She opened the kitchen door and stepped out into the hallway. There was no sign of the two figures. She waited for a moment and then limped toward the foot of the stairs. A horrifying apparition approached her, until she found herself standing face-to-face with her reflection in the long mirror by the front door. Her forehead and her cheeks were scarlet and her eyebrows had been singed, which gave her a mad, expressionless look. Her sleep-T was scorched, and her feet were swollen with blisters. The right side of her hair had been burned into crispy, prickly clumps.
    She coughed, and coughed again, and couldn’t stop coughing, but she mounted the stairs and made her way across the landing to Tasha’s bedroom.
    â€œTasha?” The door was ajar. “Tasha?”
    She switched on the light. Tasha’s comforter was pulled right back and her bed was empty. Still coughing, Lily went to Sammy’s room. His bed was empty, too.
    She leaned back against the