Outside the pub, the sun hung low. It was just hours from its descent below the far-off horizon line. Adelynn walked at a faster pace than was comfortable, ignoring the thick air that clung to her with a burning grip, and clenching and unclenching her right hand.
As a desperate escape from the scene that had just played out in the pub, her mind started running the estimations. The man had been near Redwick. Forty miles away. It would have taken him at least a handful of days to get to Mirham. The Firewalker could be more than a hundred miles away by now. Or, she could be moving closer. She could be just outside Mirham - just an hour's walk away. A spike of adrenaline stabbed at Adelynn’s chest. She walked faster.
“Hey!” a shout came from behind her. The syllable echoed...
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