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Roadies hustled the band away from the stage while others carted away the instruments and equipment. The fire jugglers had found an extinguisher but were beaten back by the flames.

‘Is anyone still in there?’ Matt asked one of them.

‘I don’t know …’ the juggler said. ‘Maybe the storyteller, Sybil. I saw her in there but that was ten minutes ago. I – can’t say. This is – a total fuck-up!’

‘Forget that now.’ Matt’s heart pounded. ‘We have to get Sybil out. I’ll run around the front.’

The flames were spreading, eating the marquee from the rear.

‘Sybil!’ Zennor ran up to him. ‘Is she in there?’

‘We don’t know,’ Matt said. ‘And you can’t go in.’

Ignoring him, she dashed up to the front of the marquee. Matt tore after her, realising she was going to try and enter from the front.

‘Stop!’ he yelled but Zennor was metres ahead.

It was so like her: bold and daring, but he didn’t want her in danger for a second. He could feel the fierce heat of the flames against his bare arms.

‘You can’t go in there!’

‘I have to …’ Zennor stopped, shielding her face with her hands when Tyler raced up.

‘Have you seen Sybil?’ she asked him.

‘She ran into the marquee! She thought you were in there.’

Zennor threw her hand over her mouth and then moved like lightning. ‘I’m going to find her!’

‘No, wait!’

She raced forward, followed by Matt. He grabbed her arm but she slipped from his grasp and hurtled into the entrance of the blazing tent.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

Zennor was overwhelmed by the brutal heat of the fire. The whole of the rear of the tent was a mass of flame and the smoke hit her lungs instantly.

Her throat burned and her eyes streamed. The heat was like nothing she’d ever felt before: like trying to stand inside an oven. She tried to take another step but it was impossible. If Sybil was in there … at the rear …

‘Sybil! she yelled but her voice was snatched away by a coughing fit.

Was that a figure inside right in the middle of the flames? No, please, no.

Zennor’s eyeballs felt as if they were being seared by the flames. They were so dry and her skin felt as if it was burning up. She couldn’t bear it. Yet she had to try, because Sybil was inside.

Two arms encircled her. ‘Zen! Get out!’

Matt was in the marquee, dragging her away from the flames. She tried to fight him but, weakened by the smoke and heat, he was too strong for her.

‘G-get off me.’

Without warning, she was scooped up and carried bodily away from the fire.

‘N-no!’ She burst out coughing again but Matt didn’t stop until they were way back from the tent.

She found herself dumped outside on the cool sand, hacking and spluttering. Sirens wailed in the distance.

‘Sybil. I have to help Sybil.’