Dany heard logs spit and crack. The fires swept over Mirri Maz Duur. Her song grew louder, shriller...then she gasped, again and again, and her song became a shuddering wail, thin and high and full of agony.And now the flames reached her Drogo, and now they were all around him.His clothing took fire, and for an instant the khal was clad in wisps of floating orange silk and tendrils of curling smoke, grey and greasy.Dany's lips parted and she found herself holding her breath.Part of her wanted to go to him as Sir Jorah had feared, to rush into the flames to beg for his forgiveness and take him inside her one last time,the fire melting the flesh from their bones until they were as one, forever.She could smell the odor of burning flesh, no different than horseflesh roasting in a firepit.The pyre roared in the deepening dusk like some great beast,drowning out the fainter sound of Mirri Maz Duur's screaming and sending up long tongues of flame to lick at the belly of the night.As the smoke grew thicker, the Dothraki backed away, coughing.Huge orange gouts of fire unfurled their banners in that hellish wind,the logs hissing and cracking, glowing cinders rising on the smoke to float away into the dark like so many newborn fireflies.
