Ammy remained still and tried to ignore the woodsmoke that was beginning to surround her. She needed to concentrate, or she would never manage this. She had never controlled her magic, but she would need to today. She had to do something to escape.
Slowly, Ammy reached towards her magic, but it remained at the edge of her reach, jittering, taunting her. She managed to snatch a thread as the first flames licked at her feet. A gasp of pain slipped through her lips - the crowd cheered - and she jammed them shut. The magic slipped away as soon as she stopped concentrating on it.
The fire built fast, and the pain of burning alive gave her the desparate strength she needed - with a mental lunge she grabbed hold of her magic. It roared within her, dangerously powerful, and as it surrounded her mind she almost lost herself within it. But the fire drew her back. Ammy drew in a deep breath.
The magic breathed with her, and made her keep going even when her lungs were bursting. The fire was sucked up, and rushed into her, until only a crackling pile of half-burnt wood surrounded her. The fire inside heated her skin, burning away both the restraining ropes and the rouch sacking dress. The ashes clung to her sweaty skin as she stumbled toward the crowd.
Someone tried to grab her but immediately jumped back, crying out as they nursed burnt fingers. Ammy ignored them all as she began to run, just as she ignored the pain in her legs, because all she could feel was the raging, burning fire.
It had burned away her voice on the way in, and so she was silent, but on the inside she screamed and screamed.
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