I am fascinated by all the different ways that we can perceive, interpret, and understand fire. For historians, it’s a tool that changed humankind. For the arsonist, it’s a weapon. For the cold, it’s life-giving warmth. For the lost or stranded, it’s hope. And for the writer of speculative fiction, it’s an element that can come alive, literally, figuratively, and/or spiritually to bind and to protect, or to curse and to kill, as in the following stories:

“The Fires of Mercy” by Spencer Ellsworth

The assassin, a mind-eater, and her men had gone to the palace to kill everyone living there, as revenge for the emperor’s lack of belief in the Thirteenth Prophet. She spared one woman, however, along with her child—the heir, still only a baby—and escaped with them into the desert. She carries with her a pendant, a forbidden weapon that could end the world with fire. A weapon that wasn’t made to be used—unless her men have been stripped of those secrets of her Order which must never be known to anyone.

She knows her men will follow her, to finish their job. And so as they run out of food and water and strength, she decides it’s better that the mother and the child die by her hand, for “each act of war must have at its heart an act of mercy.”

But what is mercy, exactly? And how does our interpretation of it affect the consequences? A vivid story that keeps you tense throughout.

“Our Fire, Given Freely” by Seth Dickinson

Rider Bray was made “şövalye, first of all the Horse People” by the Queen. The people of her retinue give their fire—their strength—to her every morning so she has the power she needs to fight the war against the King of Emmer Wheat for her Queen, who also receives the tribute of fire from all her subjects.

Meanwhile, all over the land, the people starve and fall sick, devoid of their fire. But Rider Bray has been given her role by the Queen and it is the war she must care about, above all else.

Still, she can’t ignore that reality anymore once she meets Marantic Lind, who has somehow managed to convince the Walkers and the Horse People to work together. He thinks he can help the Queen end the war—and do much, much more—but as a şövalye, Rider is resistant. There’s a reason the fire is given to the şövalye. What would become of those like her, if she were to listen to Marantic Lind—and if, despite her reservations, he turned out to have a better approach?

“Fireskin” by Joanne Rixon

One day the warrior Aun-ki wakes up to find that her skin has become hot as fire—anything that touches it burns and leaves behind blisters. Even the lightest fabrics on her skin hurt; the water she bathes in turns to steam. Court magicians and healers and alchemists fail to help her, and as she hides away from the world, people start to speculate what could have cursed her and what could treat it.

To seek a cure, she takes leave of her king, whom she’d served loyally in battle, most notably by defeating the Great Winged Lion Chiar-shu. She travels to icy lakes and holy places, but the fire remains. As she attempts yet another journey to seek a cure, she comes across a village where things are very, very wrong. She’d been on a quest to help herself, but Aun-ki the warrior may yet have a lot of work to do.

An engrossing tale that had me rooting for Aun-ki, sharing her frustrations, and finding myself heartbroken at the bittersweet ending. A wonderful story!

“After the Fire” by Aliette de Bodard

Jiaotan finds herself woken up from hibernation by the ship’s Mind; there are repairs to be done. But that’s the job of Sukuang, her sister and an engineer. Why didn’t the ship wake her up instead?

As Jiaotan makes her way to the navigation room, she discovers that Sukuang is already up—but she’s not fixing the ship. She’s considering suicide, haunted by the destruction they all brought upon earth before they left, for the human-made White Fire that killed the planet and everyone on it, except those who left on the ship.

Jiaotan, only a poet, knows that seeking death is not an answer, despite her grief—which she’s aware of, now that she’s awake and conscious. But then, what is the answer that they’re headed towards? And would it really help? The Fire left its mark on everyone, after all…

“Daughter, Mother, Charcoal” by Akis Linardos

The fire in the hearth keeps the people safe from faerie who lure women and girls with their song. Only the men are immune, and so only they can go out to work and put food on the table. The women and girls must never leave their house. They must tend to the fire by giving it life from their own body.

At present, the narrator’s mother performs this task. Next, it would be our narrator’s turn. She has to accept her role, but there’s only so long one can spend trapped inside four walls. So one night, our narrator takes a candle, steals the fire from the hearth and steps outside, to see what’s so dangerous about the faerie. The answers are both exciting and disappointing. So she continues sneaking out. But then the fire starts to weaken. Is she responsible? And what would happen if she has to forget everything she wants and take up the responsibility of keeping the fire ablaze, to keep them all “safe”?