Burning Night: A Tale of the Everburning City

Chapter 16, Part 3: Natalina

Natalina stomped on the ground as hard as she could. The feel of the heat burning her sock was a relief compared to the fear still squeezing her stomach.

Another flame started to spiral along the ground at her feet. It read 'Two adults, three children in this bedroom. If everyone else is part of this gang, just give a thumbs-up towards the torch on the wall near the window'.

Natalina was sure there wasn't a torch by the window, but as she looked over towards the window, she could see a gentle, pale-blue flame hovering just above her nightstand.

"Mama, what is that?" Nancy asked, pointing at the fire.

"Help. It means someone's here to help us," Argente said, as he squeezed the children.

Natalina, tears in her eyes, held out her hand and pointed her thumb at the ceiling.

The bead of flame traced another note on her floor. Natalina read it, and in a sudden wave of confusion, forgot about her fear.

It read 'sorry about your door'.

The air cracked in fury as thunder roared on the other side of her wall. Her door billowed, cracking in two places just before the squeal of shattering glass punctuated the rapid cacophony.

Natalina could hear screams and cries, both frightened and anguished, through the door. Flashes of bright red fire and white light shone through the cracks in the door. One last scream, a defiant cry, was cut off by another thunderous explosion.

The door opened, and a smiling woman in a rust-red coat appeared in the doorway. "Sorry about your windows, too. And your kitchen. I made a mess of that. Not my best work. You had some lovely looking glassware; I'll make you a new set when I have some free time."

The open door chose that moment to fall off its hinges, and collapse at the crafter's feet.

Asides from the immaculate and well-tailored coat, the woman standing in front of them seemed remarkably ordinary. She was short, probably only coming up to Natalina's chin. Her features were remarkably normal, and her hair had a few streaks of grey through it. She was slightly plump, her smooth face suggested a well-rested lifestyle, and her hair looked slightly unkempt.

"And this door, too," the woman added, appearing to Natalina genuinely distraught at the collateral damage she caused by saving their lives. "Anyway, it's safe to come out. The goons are willing to stay down. The ones that aren't downriver, anyway. Didn't think you'd want the kids looking at dead bodies. I told them to keep their sobbing quiet. Hopefully, they cooperate."

"Ma'am?" Nancy asked, and Natalina nearly burst into tears as her three-year-old daughter remembered her manners. "Are you a crafter?"

"Why yes, I am! My name is Coraline Estoban. What's your name?" Coraline asked, crouching down to meet Natalina's youngest daughter at eye level.

"Nancy Casper, ma'am," Nancy replied, without a single quiver in her voice.

"Nancy. Lovely name," Coraline replied. "Now, since I've wrecked your kitchen and your front door, do you think your family would like to stay at my place until your home is repaired?"

*****

It took ten more minutes for a dozen orderlies to arrive. Despite the circumstances, the officers who arrived at Natalina's place were unusually polite. They gave her children sweets, thanked Coraline profusely for investigating after she found the building's caretaker dead in his room, and promised both herself and Argente that this investigation was their highest priority.

While the investigation team was at work, one of the constables advised Natalina's family that taking Crafter Estoban's offer would give her family security that couldn't be matched anywhere else in the City.