``Don't you have any other ways to kill people?`` asks the little flame.
I shrug. ``I like fire.``
``Don't you think it's possible for me to get tired of being wielded to kill?``
``Doubt it,`` I say, looking around for a way to wake myself up. I grow weary of these dreams.
``Could you suppose what might happen if I decided I was done serving an assassin?`` the little flame flickers.
This is new. ``Are you threatening to kill me?`` I ask.
``Shouldn't you be the expert on threats?`` says the flame.
I stare at the billowing fire for a long time until I decided to take it seriously. If I use fire as my implement for one more job, I might wake up a little too warm.
``Very well,`` I say. ``I'll go buy a bucket in the morning. Drowning has always intrigued me. Maybe water won't be such a whiner.``