This week’s episode features a chapter from Lord of the Inferno, Volume Two of War of the Fathers. War of the Fathers is available as a free ebook if you sign up for the Dan Decker Newsletter. Here is an excerpt from the show:
Fire was all Adar could see. It filled his vision wherever he looked. Flames climbed the walls of the buildings and danced at the top. In many places, those walls had started to crumble. It was becoming more difficult to tell where the alley—and his path to freedom—was located.
It even seemed as if fire burned in the sky above him, though there wasn’t anything up there to burn. The thought crossed his mind that it might be a weapon of the Hunwei with which he wasn’t yet familiar, but he pushed it away. He told himself it was just the wind moving the flames and he hoped to the gods he was right.
A pool of water that had been much larger when he’d first entered the alley was now minutes away from being completely turned into steam. The flames reflected off the remnant of the pool as he splashed through it. The water that splashed onto his legs was warm. When he’d first entered the alley he’d been soaked to the bone, now his clothes were almost dry. It was a mercy he’d been thoroughly drenched by the rain when all this had started.
Wasn’t the pool on the far side, nearest where the ship went down? He shook his head as he ran without changing direction. It wasn’t the first time he’d wondered if he was turned around and running the wrong way.
Wouldn’t that just be my luck? He held his breath hoping to avoid taking in more of the smoke. Melyah knew he’d already inhaled enough of the stuff already. He’d been so focused on fighting the Hunwei he hadn’t even thought about the fact he was breathing in the heady stuff. At first, he had bent over every few steps to take a breath, but it hadn’t helped so he’d given up and pushed all the faster.
It wasn’t until he almost passed out that he tried again and lost precious time sucking in whatever air he could before his fears overcame him and propelled him forward again.
Each second that passed made it that much harder to keep from taking in the smoke. I may be headed into the belly of the beast, but at least I’ll die on my own terms, refusing to breathe of my own accord rather than choking on the smoke. He let out a snort of derision that turned into a fit for breath.
His body rebelled, and smoke was pulled into his mouth. He coughed and pushed out the breath of air he’d been holding, dying to inhale again, but knowing he shouldn’t.
The heat was unbearable. The air was poison. It was impossible to see.
Through it all, he didn’t stop moving.