Soul Fire

she’d been burned, because that’s what’s most likely to have happened
to her in that madness. Plus, it’s what people in the crowd told me when I was trying to find you all. They mentioned an English girl being burned and . . .’ he hesitates.
‘Actually, if you must know, I was terrified it might be you.’
    ‘Oh. Well, I’m fine.’
    Lewis sighs. ‘I couldn’t have lived with myself. I mean . . . I don’t know why, but I feel responsible for you.’
    ‘You don’t have to. I’m seventeen.’
    He laughs strangely. ‘Right. Seventeen. Silly me for not realising that makes you indestructible. Anyway, I’m relieved, OK? Not glad about Zoe, but happy you’re all
right.’
    ‘My anorak’s not in the best shape,’ I say, pointing at my sleeve.
    ‘I’ll buy you a new one. So, what do we know about Zoe?’
    I shrug. ‘No one is telling us much. I saw her on the ground but I don’t know how she got there.’
    ‘Did you speak to her?’
    ‘No,’ I lie. ‘She was unconscious.’
    ‘Shit.’
    We go back to the others.
    ‘I’ve spoken to a nurse. They’ll come and explain soon,’ Lewis tells them.
    Weird how his presence calms everyone, as though our parents have turned up in the middle of a nightmare, and tucked us back into bed with a glass of hot milk, and told us everything’s
going to be all right.
    Except it’s not all right, is it? Zoe’s unconscious, and we don’t know what she knows, and I don’t know what to believe, or who to trust. Which means I can trust no
one.
    Almost an hour passes before a doctor appears. He looks younger than me.
    ‘Sorry I could not come earlier, but we were busy with other cases.’ His accent is Spanish-American. Maybe he learned English from TV shows. It makes the whole thing feel even more
unreal, like being in an episode of House.
    ‘How is she?’ Sahara and I speak at once.
    ‘None of you are related to her, right?’ says the doctor.
    ‘We’re friends – the closest she has here,’ Sahara says, slightly stroppily.
    ‘As her friends, if there is anything more you can do to contact her family, it would be helpful. It is a matter of urgency.’
    ‘It’s that serious?’ Lewis asks.
    The doctor slumps down into the chair opposite us, with a sigh like an old man’s. ‘She is stabilised. There is a limit to what I can say, also because the Mossos – the
police – will want to talk to you. Such an event is very rare here. And, almost without exception, any major injuries at a Correfoc involve a tourist.’
    ‘She lived here,’ I say, feeling the need to defend her. ‘She was the one warning us that we had to dress up properly before going anywhere near the
flames.’
    ‘The flames were not her problem. Aside from a few superficial burns, she was not injured by the fireworks.’
    ‘Has she said how it happened?’ Lewis asks.
    The doctor hesitates. ‘No. It seems probable that she tripped and then was . . . trampled by the crowd. Perhaps they did not see her immediately. This would be the most likely cause of the
head injuries which are causing us the most concern.’
    Lewis frowns. ‘She hasn’t woken up yet?’
    ‘We are sedating her to keep her unconscious – in a controlled way – while we assess the options and any potential damage.’
    Damage. He means brain damage.
    ‘No!’ I exclaim before I can stop myself.
    She can’t be. Not Zoe. She kept everything in her head – so many secrets and fears. If her brain is damaged, then the real Zoe will be lost and with her, my best hope of finding out
who killed Meggie.
    Which, now I come to think of it, must have been exactly what the killer intended.

A soldier would call it collateral damage.
    Unfortunate, but inevitable against back drop of a wider campaign.
    Zoe is tougher than I thought. But then the human body does fight to survive, long after one would assume it would be defeated. Under the circumstances, one has to hope that
the mind is less resilient.
    There was no time for reflection or certainty, no private moment. Dragons and devils. What a cliché! But she was never the target, whatever she might have believed.
    Surely, now, Alice, you realise what you are up against. You are an inspiration, but that does not make you untouchable.

49
    The police give nothing away. They take our details and tell us they’ll come to the hostel first thing tomorrow to question us. They talk very slowly, and I can tell they
think we’re idiots.
    I don’t think it’s