Mischievous Fire

By Josiah Dyck

It was the fire that called Elvira out that night.

She gazed at the burning watchtower through her binoculars, and as she recognized the arsonist’s handiwork, a familiar sensation rose within her—she was closing in on her target. The sensation swelled, and she spurred her horse down the hillside into the desert valley.

The telegram she’d received earlier that week played in her head: “To the honorable Miss Bailey, from the Sheriff Council of the Rollythian region. We request your services in our hunt for an unknown arsonist. The governor is pressuring us to stop him by any means. Your feats precede you, which is why, should you accept, we will agree on a location to offer a partial payment and all known information on the outlaw.

“We look forward to working with you.”

The money was secondary to her. What interested her most was that the council would hire a bounty hunter whose methods were less-than-legal. How could one criminal strike fear so profoundly? I suppose I’m about to find out.

The wind picked up, tearing at her frock coat and Stetson hat. The flames of the burning watchtower danced nearly sideways in the wind. She lifted her bandana to ward against the sand. Something about the storm didn’t feel right. It seemed to be warding her off.

She responded by increasing her horse’s speed, and she soon arrived at the outskirts of the town. A railroad cut through its heart, but nothing stood out to her. Save for the sizzling fire, it was quiet.

Deathly quiet.

Elvira dismounted and crept deeper into the ghost town. This didn’t add up—razing settlements seemed more appropriate for a gang, but the reports had mentioned only one man.

Her foot crunched on something. She glanced down. The charred corpse of some poor denizen stared back at her with blackened eyes and crispy lips stretched in a morbid scream. Forcing her stomach to stay in check, Elvira assessed the environment more closely. With the tower’s flames providing the only light, she hadn’t noticed them before, but now she spotted several more burnt bodies. What was going on here?

Smoke drifted her way. The entire watchtower was engulfed in hellfire. If she didn’t know better, a half-breed dragon was decimating the town. Could it be? She cocked her revolver and unsheathed her gladius.

Quickening her pace, Elvira strode closer to the flames’ origin, still keeping to the shadows.

She rounded a corner and stifled a gasp. A man stood with his back to her, entranced by the titan inferno. His black attire looked just like any other outlaw’s.

She stepped forward and fired once at his head, twice at his heart, not ceasing her march.

The man spun around, and a heated flash burst from him, incinerating the bullets midair. “What a terrible greeting. You don’t even know me, and yet you’d gun me down?”

For the first time in months, true fear clenched Elvira’s neck, but she kept marching. “The sheriffs want you dealt with.”

“Lady, you’re insane. Unless that’s a god-kissed blade you’ve got there?”

Not waiting for an answer, he let out another heatwave, one that sent her flying back onto the train tracks. Her gladius melted in a pool of steel, and the man shrugged. “That’s a no, then.” His flesh burned off, leaving behind a fiery humanoid shape.

The fear choked Elvira. This arsonist was no man, nor half-breed dragon; he was a pyrogeist. Never had she thought she’d encounter one. I’m not prepared for this.

“Why don’t you stay and enjoy my creation?” the spirit boomed in a crackling voice. “Not everyone witnesses a night of mischievous fire from Arturus.”

Run.

She jumped up and bolted, Arturus’s hollow laughter following her.

When he whooshed past and blocked her path, she shot him point-blank. He sighed. “Stop this nasty habit at once.” He lobbed a fireball that liquefied the gun, searing Elvira’s hand. She shrieked.

“Is the lady hurt? She shouldn’t spoil my fun.” Arturus chuckled.

Elvira whistled for her horse. It galloped toward her from the end of the street, trembling in fright. The pyrogeist turned. Elvira scooped up a handful of sand and flung it on him. The flames flickered rather than going out, but it elicited a scream from Arturus as he fell to his knees. Elvira swung onto her horse and careened out of the town.

After riding hard past the outermost buildings, she slowed and sighed in relief, cradling her injured hand. That she was still alive was a miracle owed to the spirit’s playful nature getting the best of him. But now she had to get to safety, warn the council, and—

The ground shook behind her. Elvira threw a glance over her shoulder and saw a train chugging through town. Was the conductor mad? Did he not see the burning buildings?

Arturus dove out of an alley and into the train. The mechanical beast ignited with supernatural flames, and the pyrogeist’s demonic face appeared on the front of the engine. “You’d better start praying, lady!” he shrieked. The train sped up.

Elvira spurred her horse harder, the panic stealing her very breath. The train burnt through the tracks and hopped onto the desert sand, turning it into molten glass. The storm picked up, morphing into a whirlwind of grit and chaos that laughed at her desperation.

That was it! The sandstorm had to be the key. She charged into the thick of it and took Arturus’s advice, praying that the idea would work. The spirit roared with laughter as the engine bore down on her.

The flying sand turned to glass, shredding the pyrogeist’s currently-physical eyes. He howled and ceased possession of the train. It immediately dug into the desert and began to roll while he cursed and rocketed away.

Elvira pressed her lips together and urged her horse onward. She had to tell the sheriffs of her discovery.

Otherwise, Arturus’s fire would eat a lot more than one watchtower.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Josiah Dyck is a lover and writer of all things speculative fiction, particularly YA fantasy. His current project is a trilogy of trilogies, which collectively form Chapters of Kythe. When not writing, he’s immersing himself in video game worlds, listening to soundtracks, hanging out with friends and family, collecting LEGO, watching YouTube, and going for walks. He strives to share the love and hope of Jesus through all he does.

---

More Stories | Author Website | Facebook | Instagram | Twitter