Page 10 of Once Upon a Fable

Leaving me desperate to know what itwas.

It came again. A lament as well as a roar. A thundering shockwave of pure suffering.

An instinctual part welled deep inside me. My hand curled around my knife, not in self-defense this time, but in preparation to do what was necessary and put such a broken creature out of its misery.

The sound came again. Haunted and low, dismembered by the slight breeze and carried away before I could determine if it was animal, human, or otherworldly.

Crawling from my temporary bedroom, I climbed to my feet, swaying in the bracken, my socks catching on leaf debris, my hand raised with my knife.

Still no moon, no stars. Without my lantern, I couldn’t see two steps in front of me.

If I went exploring, I might fall down the cliff not far from where I’d set up camp. I could break a leg and never get out of this place.

I could die here.

The howl came a final time, echoing with grief and the undeniable moan for help. It sounded like fury melted with sadness, throbbing with terror and torment.

It made meache.

Made me desperate to help.

And then, it was gone.

And no matter how long I stood outside, a single girl exposed to the elements with every instinct straining to find such a creature, only silence and leaves existed.

CHAPTER FOUR

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I’D BEEN DIGGING AGAIN.

Holding up my hands, I scowled at the dirt beneath my nails, the mud up my arms, and the soil spread through my single bed.

Fuck.

That hadn’t happened in a while. It’d been years since I’d had the faculties to unlock the multiple barriers on the dormitory door and sneak my way outside in my sleep. To move with the moonlight. To slip between shadows, naked and silent, before falling to my knees in the earth.

Looking past my dirt-caked hands, I narrowed my eyes at the window.

It was ajar.

Vaulting from my bed, I bolted to it. Grabbing the wrought iron frame, I fisted the old-fashioned latch.

Why is this open?

Who?

How?

My eyes shot around the room, flying over empty beds, searching barren walls, and probing into dark corners.

I stilled and stopped breathing, waiting to hear an intruder cough or command. My skin bristled, and if I’d been graced with fur instead of pitiful flesh, I would’ve shuddered with a warning hackle.

Just like it’d been years since I’d been digging in the night, it’d also been a while since I was young enough to fantasize. To pretend I was another beast—any other beast—than what I was. I’d read every single book in this godforsaken place three times over. I’d devoured economics, cooking, horticulture, and mechanics. I’d indulged inthrillers, sagas, and even romance, but my favorite literature was fantasy.

It was the only thing that had the power to pull me from my existence and place me in the skin of another. The magic of a written word could transform me into a wolf or a giant or a sorcerer so awfully wicked that his hands were caked with a millennium of blood instead of earth.

There’s no one here.