New York: Allie's War, Early Years

Then I realized that one of those spokes coming off the main fire led to me.

Looking to the left, where another spoke of dry wood had been piled up, leading away from the center fire in the opposite direction from me, I found myself meeting a set of purple eyes I recognized. She was far enough away that I couldn't be sure at first, but when the fire illuminated her face, I realized I'd been right.

It was the seer from that morning.

From her predicament, I could guess my own. She'd been tied down with what looked like green-tinted chains, her arms locked around a thick log. Under her, someone had piled another stack of wooden pallets and broken crates. They weren't burning yet, but my eyes once more followed the trail of splintered wood leading from the center fire to hers. It was then that I noticed that the campfire in the center formed a triangle. Bordered by those large, white, granite stones, I might have missed it at first if I hadn't seen one corner of the triangle pointed at me.

Then I saw the third body. That one was a man. He'd been tied to a log the same as me and the woman, but he must not have struggled much. Unlike me and the seer, he was still balanced on top of the log, his posture eerily serene.

Gasping as this all sank in, I struggled harder, fighting to loosen my arms.

It only made me slide sideways even more.

Which meant I'd be closer to the fire when it came.

My gaze jerked to the right, trying to get a look at the face of the third man. It took me longer to make him out since the smoke was billowing that way and a tree stood between me and him, but I finally glimpsed his face when the wind shifted direction. Whoever he was, he seemed more okay with the proceedings than either me or the female seer. He was young, maybe in his early thirties at the most. He stared at the same stars I'd been looking at, only with an expression of near-bliss on his face. Tattoos covered his bare upper body, along with burns and scars in what looked like the shape of symbols. I didn't recognize any of the symbols, but I saw the triple spiral pattern among them, so I had to assume he was a believer.

Thanks to the fire, I could also now see the men who held us captive.

I made out at least six. I watched three tend the fires, prodding and pushing the wood to make sure it was slowly spreading towards the three of us, in reasonably equal proportions. I wondered if they'd put starter fluid on the wood that led to each of our individual pyres...and got my answer when the first log on the spoke leading towards me caught fire, and went up with a fuel-aided whup. As I watched the flames begin working their way across the five or so yards to me, however, I realized it was burning too slowly to be covered in fluid like the central fire had been. My throat had gone completely dry, to the point where I couldn't swallow, much less scream. I guess I was probably in shock.