Once more, he began to sink into blackness. Consciousness slipping away, he knew it would only be seconds before it all went out, like someone had flipped an "off" switch in his brain. Then, who knows how long--hours, days, weeks--it would all be nothing, until the drug started to fade and again all was flame.

Maximillian.

He opened his eyes, only to see a void as empty as he had when they were closed, except for a few tiny sparks scattered throughout his vision.

Look.

As his eyes adjusted, he saw the pile of ash far below him. Headlights, streetlights, the incandescent bulbs of house lights shining through the windows, all seemed to mock the flame that had devoured the great cathedral whose ruins lay many stories below him. It seemed to him that he could still see the smoky trails of flame, as though the fire had only just been extinguished. No, there were only two--but they had wound through the city so many times that they seemed to blend into a solid haze, devouring it. The only open place was the river; even these flames did not stay long on the river.

Suddenly, a shudder went through Maximillian--or what would have been a shudder, except that he did not seem to possess a body, or if he did, it was still frozen and senseless. He felt as though one of those fire trails had gone right through him, though from the outside in or the inside out, he could not tell. All he knew was that suddenly--

He felt a strange disgust for the city. He could watch the strange fire-clouds devour it with a certain sour satisfaction. Dirty, sleazy, cowardly people, perhaps their death would be nothing worse than the cleansing of a slime. The cathedral was already gone, only a few short steps to the rest of the city. And his brother, too. And then he himself would burn upon the pyre, last to be destroyed before...

Only now did Maximillian realize that the voice nagging on the edge of his consciousness was not his own. It hissed thoughts of delicious destruction that were none of his.

No! his mind cried, still so far from his body. He wanted to shut his eyes, to banish the fire-trails, but one cannot look away in a dream. Instead he focused his thoughts on Lydia. I won't let it come for her. It can't come for her!

How interesting, it mused. Such resistance, even from one who harbors my own spirit inside of him. Your passion will burn all the brighter in my inferno. I will destroy you, slowly, agonizingly, wonderfully. Do not worry, Maximillian. I will devour you both together.

It watched the two flames approaching the cathedral, one a great bonfire, the other, smaller one dancing so wildly that it might have been a trick birthday candle. A flash there, flicker here, blaze and blank and explosion.

Maximillian focused all his will not to see the flames.

Nickolai strode swiftly across the grounds, dragging Calina by the wrist with no regard for her cries of indignation and pain. He was a good foot and a half taller than she, and her short legs tripped more than walked behind him. He didn't so much as glance back until he stood square in front of the ash that was once the ornate front double door.

"Can't you wait?" panted Calina angrily. "What did you go and drag me here for? I am perfectly capable of walking myself--ahhh!" Her words were cut off by a shriek as Nickolai's arm, in a fluid motion that seemed to be a simple continuation of his halted stride, flung her forward into the ash.

"What do you see here?" roared Nickolai, his eyes flashing and the tips of his golden hair glinting silver. "Open your eyes and tell me what you see in this place!"

Calina staggered and shrieked; all she could see was fire. She seemed to be surrounded by the flame that had consumed the cathedral, but seven distinct tongues shone above all the rest. Voices exploded in her brain.

"Nothing to do with you--"

"--control yourself--"

"--destroy--"

"--guilt--"

"--hungry--"

Terror, hatred, death, evil...

The voices rose to a roar like the deadly storm-waves of the ocean crashing into the sand, until she could no longer distinguish words, and white-hot flashes began to pierce her brain. Her limbs jerked wildly and she fell, kicking into her own small storm of dust the ashes that had once been the bodies of holy men.

Nickolai watched from the perimeter, not setting a single foot inside what had once been the cathedral. His eyes glinted coldly as he watched Calina's spasms. Let this be her penalty for trying to pull him away from his sweet abyss--even though it was I, not she--and bothering him when, of all times, he most wanted to be alone. Let her feel his suffering, if she was so curious. He stood motionless while her twitching subsided, and she lay in a limp heap, now covered in ash. Slowly, she regained consciousness and pulled herself from the ground, and still he did not move. One word was all he gave her.

"Well?"

"What..." Her voice was little more than a whisper. "What was that? What kind of a sick joke is this?"

"You wanted to know why you can see the flames. Well, this is why."

"What do you mean?" All traces of anger were gone from her voice now. She felt only shock, and on the edges of her mind where she was trying to keep it out for as long as possible, an abject terror at whatever she had just seen.

"There was a demon bound beneath this cathedral. The building guarded the spot, keeping the demon locked away for many centuries. Now I have released it--"

"You--?"

"--and I need you to help me find it again."

"Was that what that thing was, from the bridge?"

"Look," he commanded, ignoring her questions. "You said you can see the fire inside other people. Can you see the fire-trail left by the demon?"

"Hold on a second!" Calina interjected. "You said I could see the fire because I had some kind of demon blood inside me. Well, if this demon, or monster, or whatever it is, was born inside of you--"

"I was born within it," he corrected.

"--why can't you just look for the fire-trails yourself?" she finished.

"Because it's too dangerous." She waited for further explanation, but none came. Nickolai waited too. After several moments of silence, he said, finally, "Well--can you?"

"No," she replied. She took pleasure in seeing his flame flicker in anger.

Nickolai narrowed his eyes. "Then it seems we shall have to...