She lit the flare, and fire danced off the carved dome of the temple. She stared, gun still raised, smoke curling off the barrel into the ice-sharp night air. Stone was not supposed to catch fire quite like that.
But it was burning merrily.
It took Traesa a moment to recover. She wasn’t supposed to stay on this roof after she set off the flare. One obvious shot, visible to nearly anyone in the sloping, sprawling city, and she was meant to scurry down, before anyone in a uniform could trace it the shot back to her. Now that the temple was crawling with fire, she feared the priests coming for her as well. And she hated their lectures worst of all.
apprentice, never master 