A Spark in the Dark

The day passed in a blur of tension. Caleb tried to sketch in his notebook, but his hand shook too much to draw straight lines. Simon spent the afternoon pacing, checking the windows, muttering about the "energy" of the place.

By evening, the temperature had plummeted. The house’s heating system groaned against the wind.

"I'll light the fire," Caleb said. He needed to do something, anything, to feel useful.

He knelt by the gas fireplace. It was a modern, ribbon-flame unit set into the wall. He turned the key valve and pressed the igniter button.

* Click. Click.*

Nothing.

"Let it bleed a little," Simon said from the kitchen. "Probably air in the line."

Caleb turned the gas up higher. He waited five seconds. Ten. He pressed the igniter again.

* BOOM.*

A fireball erupted from the hearth. It wasn't a gentle ignition; it was a concussive blast.

Caleb threw himself backward, shielding his face. The fire roared out of the fireplace, licking the edge of the shag rug. The heat singed his eyebrows and scorched the hair on his arms.

"Caleb!" Simon shouted.

Simon was there instantly. He grabbed the rug and flipped it over, smothering the embers. He reached into the wall panel and killed the emergency gas shutoff.

Caleb lay on the floor, gasping for air, the smell of singed hair filling his nose.

"The Hearth," Simon said, looking down at him. "It bit the hand."

Caleb looked at his hand—the scarred one. The fresh heat reddened the old keloid tissue.

"You okay?" Simon asked. He didn't offer a hand to help Caleb up. He just loomed over him, a silhouette against the dying flames.

"I... I turned it up too high," Caleb stammered.

"Did you?" Simon asked. "Or is it happening?"

"Stop it, Simon."

"I'm scared for you, Caleb," Simon said, his voice dropping to that terrifyingly calm register. "I think we should lock down. No going out. I've already moved the car keys to the safe. And I think I should hold onto your phone. You’re in no state to talk to anyone."

"You took my keys?" Caleb scrambled up. "Give me my phone."

"For your safety," Simon said. "We don't want you running off in the dark, do we? Not with the Third Omen coming."