World Fire   Great Actor

Salocer gripped Stocke’s head and slammed it into an invisible wall. Salocer’s face was contorted in fury, and one of his eyes twitched in madness.‘I have tried to be fair with you. I have! Even the Coordinator can attest to it. Can’t you? Can’t you Coordinator? You can see my fairness. You can see everything! But you … you.’ He pulled Stocke closer to him, stretching out his tongue and licking the line of blood that dripped from his forehead. ‘You are intent on playing tricks with me.’ Salocer breathed in, and then sighed.‘I am the Coordinator’s best actor. It is the reason that I have lived so long and performed in so many of his plays. I do my best. He can see it. I give no information and I perform my heart out. I show genuine expression, and I show genuine rage at your disobedience. You see, when you’re performing for the Coordinator, you have to perform well, lest your family suffer for it. When you get into a tangle with the Coordinator, the best scenario is one where only yo

World Fire   World Fire

World Fire   Sun, Moon, Stars

World Fire   Aftermath of Scars

When Locke came to, he found that he was in his dimly lit bedroom back at the Amber Hall. Bandages ran up and down his body, and there was woollen padding around his shoulder where he had been stabbed. It was night, but a candle burned softly on his desk, illuminating Kets in an orange light.She sat there, her head lolled off to one side, her eyes ever so slightly parted. Noticing movement, her eyes sprang to life, and focused on Locke.‘Locke, your awake, ya ha,’ she said. ‘I’ll tell Belvon Laire when I get the chance – he’s busy attending to Stocke.’‘No, wait,’ Locke said. It was difficult to talk, and a nauseating pain pulsed through his body. ‘Can you catch me up to speed? What happened? Why weren’t you, Trys and Arla with us in the Laire estate?’‘We were attacked enroute. One of the Coordinator’s actors blew up our mode of travel, and we were stranded.’ Kets reached forward, grabbed Locke’s hand and held it up to her. ‘The Laires, now without their mansion, and their daughter

World Fire   The Fire that Burned the World

World Fire   What am I to do?

Stocke, who healed unnaturally fast, regained consciousness the next day. Despite Belvon’s protests, he clawed his way up to his feet despite his dizziness and made to leave the room.‘Stocke, my boy,’ Belvon Laire said with his usual dramatic voice. ‘Lay down, rest, there is no good to come from rushing oneself.’‘Thank you, Belvon, but no. I’m in quite a bad mood, need some time to myself.’Stocke returned to his room, shut the door behind him, and stared out at the field outside. Flowers were blooming, the wind brushed at the grass, and the sun gleamed from the east. The weather mocked his foul mood.From the events surrounding the Laire mansion, he felt so utterly useless – and betrayed! He noticed the indecision in Locke’s posture and face. He saw how he had edged closer to hand Caria Laire over to Straza. But … was it really his right to be mad? Caria Laire had treated him so poorly back at the containment camp. She had aided Kelnaxx Laire in the cutting off his ears and tails.

World Fire   The Opening of the First Act

The sand stretched to the horizon in every direction. Great dunes formed like waves in the sand sea. The sun beat down from the cloudless blue sky, creating waves of heat that reached a few metres above the sand. The place was devoid of detail, except for a column of sandy dust that worked its way between the dunes as it headed westward. A large, scaly beast charged through the column of dust. More than ten metres wide and thirty long. It was a triceratops, far larger than a normal one, and domesticated. Leather straps lined the body, holding a platform of wood and stone tight on top of its back. There was a crowd of people on this platform. One of them was at the front, wearing a pair of goggles, looking through a spyglass to navigate the sandy land in front of them. This man was Miles Rodger. He was a man of the Amber Army, a squadron of the Royal Army of Justisar that was dedicated to roaming the land and bringing peace. He hid his sleek black hair underneath a leather cap and twi

World Fire   Fahrla and Locke

'Locke, can we go to the beach today? The wind is so pleasant, and the sun is warm, but not hot. It would be a waste not to go,' Fahrla said. 'Sure, let's go.' He grabbed her hand and pulled her up to her feet. Fahrla was only a year younger than he was, but her figure was small and frail, the result of a girl that could never have a proper and regular diet. This poor health left her always in the tender care of Locke, who had to watch over her every step. Locke himself was only fourteen but had grown strong enough to carry her. Fahrla climbed onto his back and held onto his shoulders. 'Careful now,' he said, gently stepping down to the lower platforms and onto the streets of the slums. As they walked down the street, he waved to the familiars of the Arindel slums. There was Old Broom, the name everyone gave to the old man who always swept at the sandy street ways. People said that he never quite recovered from the shock of losing his wife, and now devoted his life to sweeping the