Chapter Six

Fire. Fire Raged.

Fire Ravaged.

The flames licked the shadows, battled back the black.

The inferno rose, the darkness quelled.

All was silent.

For a while.

-

So upfront hadn’t actually worked out too well, or not at all, Amber mused as she stood in line waiting for her tea. Her eyes moved to the window seat in the corner of the cafe, as she hoped and prayed no one took it before she could seize it. There were two women and a child in front of her and judging by the child’s screaming, they would not be staying within the establishment, and there was a boy, somewhat older than her but still in his teens, standing awkwardly with an earbud in one ear and a backpack drooping from one shoulder - she guessed he’d be moving on too. Still, she inwardly chanted ‘to go’, ‘to go’. If there was any fairness in the world, they’d let her grab her seat in peace.

She felt rotten and confused. There she’d been, sitting in the office of the BBA, all fired up to announce the doom of the world - or just a part of it - and Mr Dickinson had politely implied that she was a child playing imagination. Faeries indeed, who would ever believe in such a thing.

You’re so melodramatic.

Here’s an idea, find a new host.

Impossible. I’m cursed with you.

Amber rolled her eyes, fixing the earbuds in her own ears. No music played, but if anyone caught her mouthing to herself, she could pretend she was singing. Fact of the matter was, she was cursed; not the voice in her head. The two women with the screaming child moved to the waiting area and Amber breathed a sigh of relief when she saw two Styrofoam cups being set up for their order.

A new table was opening up in the centre of the room, as an old coupl...

... middle of paper ...

...: why had she lied at the hotel? Why had she gone to see Mr Dickinson? What was going on? Was she an enemy? Was she a friend?

And when Ian phrased his question like that, it all sounded so surreal and far fetched. ‘We could just be overreacting. I think we’re so suspicious because each year something terrible has happened -’

‘Nothing bad is happening this year!’

Hilary spun to find Ming-Ming standing behind them with a fist on her hip, another finger pointed at them in warning. ‘Aren’t you supposed to be singing?’

‘I’m just making sure that Mr Dickinson and his guests are settled. We have the Mayor of Belfast visiting as well as the Minister for Sport or something. As Ambassador, I need to see to their every needs and since this is my tournament, I’m warning you all now. Nothing,and I mean nothing is going to happen!’

-

Chapter Seven