She struggled to swallow, but her saliva tasted like smoke and made her cringe. Her sheets were damp and cold from her sweat, but her skin was still burning hot from the dream. Levana gasped and jolted upward, limbs tangled in heavy blankets. Through the haze she caught a glimpse of kind eyes. She reached out with her good hand, trying to drag her body from the fire, but the bed of coals crushed and collapsed under her weight, burying her, dragging her deeper into the embers and the smoke. She pleaded for death, but it never came. The pain was relentless, the agony never ending. Blisters burbled across her skin, and entire swaths of flesh peeled away, revealing raw tissue underneath. The smell of her own burning flesh invaded her nostrils. White sparks floated in her vision but the mercy of unconsciousness wouldn’t come.
She was lying on a burning pyre, hot coals beneath her back.
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