"Merciful Light above," a woman at a nearby table breathed, pulling her children closer to her as the heat washed over her like the opening of an oven door. "What are they doing?"
"They're going to burn her," her husband said, his face gone pale as he scrambled to push his chair back from the table, putting distance between his family and the growing flames. "Move, quickly, get away from them…"
At the Fayle table, Baron Erling was already on his feet. He grabbed his mother's arm, pulling Ragna away from their seats with a roughness that he would apologize for later.
