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‘Come on. Think of Erann,’ and she stepped onto the first step and followed Jon, hoping he wouldn’t hear her footsteps above the noise he was making. After all, he’d not be expecting anyone to follow him so why would he think any noise he heard was her?

The steps were steep, and seemingly without end. She was pleased she wouldn’t be coming back this way. The orange gloom of the lamps remained consistent, even as she descended.

But with every step down, the warmth of the stairway grew. ‘It’s getting so hot.’ She felt uncomfortable in the many layers of clothing she wore. Eventually, she paused and removed her cloak, draping it over her arm as she dropped further and further down the interior of the mountain. How had these steps come to be here? She couldn’t understand it. Her face became slick with sweat and it took her a while to notice the orange of the lamps now shone red.

And still the steps continued. Finally, the darkness became almost as bright as day while the heat reached a level she’d never experienced before. It was hard to breathe in the stifling air, which also smelled strange.

This wasn’t at all what she’d imagined. Where was Jon going? Maybe he wasn’t going outside after all? Yet, in the distance, she could still hear his shuffling steps. Whatever his destination, he was still going there.

Sapped, she stopped. She turned. Perhaps, she should go back the way she’d come? She wasn’t sure that wherever Jon was going would turn out to be where she wished to go, which was outside, where it would be cold. Not here. Where it was so hot, she felt as though her insides were burning. For the first time in her life, she’d have welcomed being too cold. At least she could have snuggled into her cloak.

She truly looked at where she was, and felt her forehead furrow. Ahead, there was a lake of what looked to be burning orange lamps, whereas she stood on a narrow pathway. Was that the cause of the heat? A sharp cough rocked her body, her tongue tasting burned.

‘Oh no,’ she mumbled, pulling her cloak against her mouth, coughing into it again, but then calming. Her cloak stopped the heat from entering her, just as it would stop the biting cold of outside. It felt as the air had set fire to her insides. Now, she finally understood Finn’s assertion that the mountain kept the walls warm. The lake of orange boiled and bubbled as it moved sluggishly.

Abruptly, she caught sight of Jon walking warily across a narrow bridge leading to the other side of the orange lake. She felt exposed. There was no way he wouldn’t see her. Without thinking, she crouched and shuffled towards a waist height rock. Peering from behind it, she watched him look where she’d just been standing. Now she burned for an altogether different reason. She couldn’t be discovered.

‘Look away, look away,’ she whimpered. She risked peeking around the rock. Whether he sought her or not, he’d quickly resumed his precarious walk across the thin-looking bridge. On reaching the other side, he hurried towards another tunnel without so much as a backwards glance.

As soon as she was sure he was out of sight, she followed him, not relishing the idea of walking across the narrow bridge. But there was no alternative.

The bridge was even thinner up close. It was narrower than if she placed her two feet end to end. It was a thin sliver of rock, with no handholds. She swallowed heavily, cloak still held up to protect her throat, for it was growing even warmer because dragon lengths below the bridge, the orange sludge flowed, the intense heat making everything shimmer, as though she looked at it through smoke or steam.

‘By the Gods,’ she growled, and shakily placed a foot on the bridge, testing its stability even though she’d watched Jon walk across it. ‘Oh, Erann,’ she muttered. ‘I’m only doing this for you. You’d better appreciate it.’

She fixed her eyes on the tunnel Jon had disappeared down and stepped out with one foot.

She wanted to accomplish the task quickly, resolving that if she did fall, the heat from the orange lake would kill her before she realised what was happening.

She closed her eyes, but felt herself wobble so snapped them open once more.

An image of Erann formed before her.

‘I’ll do this for Erann,’ she growled, wishing the decision would make her feet move.

She needed to do this.

She needed to do this so she could find him.

Hesitantly, she placed her other foot on the bridge and began to shuffle forwards, not lifting her feet fully clear, because if she did, she feared to misstep. Tears leaked from her eyes, only to evaporate immediately. She was so hot, it was an effort to breathe.

‘Don’t look to either side of the bridge,’ she instructed herself. ‘Look ahead. Only ahead. It’s not that far. Now move.’ She kept her gaze fixed on the tunnel Jon had disappeared into, feeling her way with each foot before putting her weight onto it. Her heart sounded like a drum in her ears. She started to shake, the trembling making it even more difficult to stay focused on moving onwards. She reached the centre, or what she hoped was the centre, and doubt assaulted her. She couldn’t do this.

Her legs trembled. Her whole body shook. Even her hands where they held the cloak close to her mouth. ‘I need to go back,’ she decided. ‘I can’t do this. Jon’s clearly mad to take the risk. I can’t do it. I can’t.’

She paused, heart thudding, face slick with sweat. Her eyes following the bridge from ahead, to by her feet, and then attempting to look behind her. But it was impossible. There wasn’t enough room to turn and go back and she couldn’t risk trying to walk backwards. Her chest felt tight, and it was as though she couldn’t get enough air into her body. She pulled the cloak aside, coughed on the heat and immediately thrust it back again.

‘Erann. I have to do this for Erann,’ she roared, not heeding if she was heard. ‘Erann, I’m doing this for you because Skaldi won’t. And Emma won’t either,’ she exclaimed, allowing her anger to replace her fear.

Carefully, she resumed her onwards shuffling journey. One foot and then another. Her panic receded. Jon had made it look so easy, skipping over the bridge. But it wasn’t easy. Not at all. But she was so nearly there. She kept her eyes on her destination. She didn’t look left or right, to the other side.

And then it happened. A strong gust of wind buffeted her, a chill breeze following in its wake, welcome in the heat, only for her right foot to slip.

‘Argh,’ a scream ripped from her mouth, arms flailing as she tried to keep her balance. It was impossible that she’d stay upright. An image of Erann formed before her. She felt as though she could reach out and touch him. She closed her eyes, determined to savour the sight of him one last time.

She hiccupped a sob. She’d fall. Here. Into the hot stream, and it would kill her, as she burned up. No one would ever know what had happened to her. Just as with Erann.

Only then she felt something, and her arm was grabbed, yanking her to the far side of the bridge and safety.