Acmot and the others had followed obediently the whole way, but now, with flames churning below them, the ferocity they had suppressed for so long began to stir.
They lowered their bodies and descended from above, gathering near the cave entrance to unleash stream after stream of dragonfire at the tents along the shore of the bay. Fire fell from several directions at once, lighting the entire area as brightly as day.
The tents quickly collapsed once they caught fire. The sides closest to the flames gave way first, the burning canvas twisting and warping in the heat, its edges curling into charred black clumps. The wooden frames cracked sharply as they burned, and the tents crumpled straight down.
Some of the Ironborn, who had fallen fast asleep long ago with nothing to do, were only now startled awake by the noise and screams outside.
By the time they sat up, dancing flames already filled their vision. Some did not even have time to throw on their coats and simply ran toward the light on instinct, only to be blasted in the face by a wave of heat as soon as they lifted the tent flap.
When they fled the burning tents, flames clung to their trailing hems. Some even had sparks burning in their hair and beards.
Some jumped into the water, trying to use the seawater to extinguish their burning clothes. But the fire clinging to them was no ordinary flame. They had been caught in dragonfire.
The dragonfire clung like maggots burrowing into bone. It did not go out when submerged, but kept burning against flesh and scraps of cloth. Even when someone sank completely beneath the surface, clusters of light remained visible. It shared the same properties as wildfire.
Worse still, the nearby sea had already