37″The tavern was on fire. Elira Virelle was holding the torch.
“In my defence,” she said, stepping back from the blazing curtains, “I thought the chicken was magical.”
It squawked from the rafters, flaming feathers and all.
“You also turned Gregor into a goat!” the bartender roared.
“He asked for greatness,” Elira shrugged. “Maybe enunciate next time.”
Behind her, the goat chewed someone’s cloak.
Elira flipped her hood up. “I’m leaving before anything else explodes.”
She tripped over a stoo
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