Prologue
The sounds of snorts, snores, and grunts filled the musty air of the cramped room. Hammocks were arranged from floor to ceiling, supported by thick poles, and the hammocks swung loosely as sleeping individuals tossed and rolled to find comfort. With the gnomesâ short stature, only small hammocks were needed. Even in this limited space, six gnomes could sleep at ground level, and three times that when using the vertical space.
As she lifted her arm, Hoots felt it peel off her forehead. The stickiness of the sweat she was covered in became apparent in her sleepy state.
           Eurgh, gross, she thought, barely. She smacked her lips, noticing how dry they were, and then rubbed her large round eyes. She was one hammock in from the nearest wall, and at the top level. She rolled to one side to face the wall, feeling her aching body fight against her. With one of her stubby legs, she let out a swift kick.
           âOpen the window. Iâm sweating like a damn pig,â Hoots groaned.
           The person in the hammock she contacted rolled with a grumble. âItâs freezing. What are you on about?â they said, clutching a thin blanket tightly.
           More aware of the heat her body gave off, Hoots rolled onto her back. âThen why am I so damn hot?â Hoots threw her old, stained, discolored sheet to her feet. Her half-opened eyes caught a glimpse of her sweat-ridden, ragged pajamas. Not feeling any relief, she started blinking herself awake to inspect further. Looking down, she saw steam billowing from her body.
           âWhat the hell? If it is so cold, why am I steaming up like a boiled potato?â
           The person she had kicked rolled toward her. Their large eyes peered out of their ragged blanket.
           âShit, Hoots, you are burning up,â the soft male voice said. He sat up, still wrapped up in the blanket. âI told you not to eat that nasty-looking pawpaw fruit.â
           Hootsâs breathing quickened. âI feel like Iâm roasting.â
           âAlright, hang on.â The gnome got up and grabbed the pole his hammock was tied to. He was no larger than Hoots, and they shared the same brown hair, cut short. With his large hands, he gripped the pole, swung around, and plummeted to the floor. The thud on the squeaky floorboards below stirred some of the others, accompanied by the murmurs and groans of rudely awoken gnomes. The pitter-patter of a pair of large feet left the room.
           Hoots felt sweat develop at her hairline and roll down her forehead like a torrent of water. It was as if she were in an oven, the heat at every extremity and pulsing through her body with every heartbeat. She breathed in, hoping to feel cooler air enter her lungs, but it was damp from the steam emanating off her. Soft talking came from the adjacent room, and several large thuds of more awakening gnomes could be heard. The rest of the room was stirring, the confused voices of Hootsâs siblings filling the small space. A deeper voice erupted and the door to the cramped room burst open.
           âEveryone out!â the voice bellowed. A chorus of groans was the response to the stout gnome at the door with a thick bristly moustache perched on his upper lip.
           âNow!â the father added. More compliant gnomes jumped out of their hammocks from all levels. Hoots could do nothing but feel the intense heat surging within her continue to take over her senses.
âIt canât be happening. They said that if it were to happen, it should have happened by now, is she not too old now?â The feminine voice of her mother was softer but spoke with haste.
âWe need to get her out of here,â the deeper voice of her father said, climbing up the pole to Hootsâs hammock.
âAnd take her where?â
âAway! We canât have her here anymore!â A large cold hand lay on Hootsâs forehead. He immediately recoiled away at the feeling of such heat. âSheâs about to burst. Get out.â
âWhat? No!â
The father quickly descended to the floor and began ushering the mother out.
âItâs her or the rest of us! Go!â From the other room, Hoots could hear her father giving orders for them to leave and the violent swing of the front door. Ushering enough strength, Hoots sat up in the now-emptied room. She had been getting increasingly warm and could now see how red her skin had gotten and how intense the steam emanating off her was.
What the hell is wrong with me?! What is happening to me?! Hootsâs breathing shallowed as panic gripped her. Her brother burst into the room, a pail of water sloshing under his arm.
âCome on Hoots, this will cool you down,â he said calmly. It was comforting to see his face so relaxed and unfearful.
âWhat are you doing?! Get out of there!â their father shouted.
âWhat? Iâm just getting something to cool her off.â
âSheâs too dangerous.â
Too dangerous?
âSheâs my sister. Iâm just helping her,â the brother wailed, being dragged out of the room.
âShe will hurt you, probably kill you and everyone around her.â The father fought to keep his son out of the room with Hoots.
Hurt someone? Kill someone? What have I done? What am I going to do? I donât want toâ Hootsâs thoughts were cut short as she saw her body spontaneously ignite with a bright orange flame. Hoots let out a scream as the fire spread and burned her surroundings in a wave. All she could feel was heat; all she could hear was screaming and the crackling of raging flames. She dropped to the floor as the fire obliterated her hammock. She was physically unharmed, and no pain came, just the sound of fire and screams.
Fire and screams.
