Do not bring flame into the library

[lanfykins.livejournal.com]

There was nobody here, and that made things easier. There had been people here a few hours ago, when the plague of rat-creatures had swept through, but now they were only wet lumps on the floor, their blood staining the torn pages of the nearby books - later, she wouldn't think about that yet - and they would not get in the way.

She narrowed her eyes at a bookcase ablaze, and the fire winked out. She examined the remains carefully for a moment, careful to avoid touching, then shook her head. "Too badly damaged."

The man who followed her like a shadow shrugged. "At least it means we can use foam. There are almost no CO2 extinguishers left."

"Then find some more."

The man took a step back, blinking at the force of her tone, and spread his hands apologetically. "I'm sorry. I can raid the nearest buildings if you think it'll help, but I won't find more than one or two...'

She stood absurdly, inhumanly still, her skin glowing in the ruddy light. "I know," she said after a moment. "But try."

She watched him as he ran off along a wide aisle that Dante and Bosch might have recognised, though not as a library. She did not need to breathe to smell the smoke, or to recognise the tang of books and bodies ablaze.

She was not old enough to remember Carthage. But if she had, she thought, she might find tonight oddly familiar...