Where the Beasts Bow

“Another one? That makes three just this month.” Hushed voices pique my interest, the person trying to sell off their meagre wares to me fading into the background hum as I glance in the direction the voices had come from.

I hand them a small copper coin, taking the two barely warm loaves and placing them into the brown basket looped over my arm.

Feigning interest in the next stall, I angle myself to hear more clearly.

Two men—traders, but not locals. Their clothes are worn and in dire need of a wash but better kept than most from here.

“They’re picking us off like flies,” one mutters. His accent is thick and that I cannot place.

“Picking ourselves off—its desperation. Nobody in their right mind would go into the forest, especially not after sundown.”

With winter creeping in and the worst harvest our town has seen in years, everyone knows it is just a matter of time before there is nobody left.

“Do we know what did it?”

The pause says everything that he does not. I try to imagine the horrors, the tall tales of creatures painting a grim image. Creatures that, once you have seen,youwill never be seen again. Supposedly you lose your soul to them, and become trapped in a shell of yourself, wandering the forest aimlessly.

I have never been stupid enough to even get close.

“No, only that they didn’t make it out the other side. Nobody is stupid enough to go and try recover it, no matter how high in the sky the sun may be.”

“It is about time I return to Reggio, and I suggest you do the same. Nothing left for us here.”

The pair part ways with a simple shake of hands, disappearing into the thinning crowds. I wonder who it is that has gone missing, but the grey clouds overhead have kept most stalls closed today, making it hard to tell who is not accounted for.

The taller man makes his way down the path towards me, busying himself with something in his coat pocket. An easy target.

When he is a few paces away, I step into his path, letting him bump into me. His eyes grow wide, and he grabs onto my arms, steadying me as I sway on my feet dramatically.

“Are ye’ alright lass?”

I nod quickly, crouching to retrieve one of the parchment loaves that tumbled from my basket. He has not let go and I smile graciously as I come up.

“I am so sorry, clumsy as always.”

He huffs, pats my arm, and tips his hat before carrying on his way.

With my back to him, I unfurl my fingers. The cool glint of silver rests in my palm. A whisper of guilt passes through me.

“Consider that your taxes paid,” I mumble in attempt to make myself feel better. Traders are notorious for sneaking in and out without paying the taxes my family are owed. I’m simply... evening out the scales.

Dropping them into the fabric lined basket besides the bread, I walk down the path in the opposite direction before the man can realise what has just happened. A couple of traders try to stop me, waving around trinkets and cloth, but unless it is food, I do not bother to look twice.

I turn down a narrow path, up towards my family home that is starting to crumble with age.

“Stealing is a crime,” a deep voice drawls from behind me. I freeze in my tracks, clutching the basket tightly.

Taking a deep breath, I turn to see a tall figure wearing a dark cloak pulled up over his head. His eyes are shadowed, and he does not move closer, leaning against the wall.

I swallow down my nerves, shrugging in feigned nonchalance. “Who said anything about stealing?”

He pushes off the wall and my heart hammers, but I do not step backwards. I have nothing to fear in this town, in myhome. Except there is nobody to help me if he means trouble.

Up close, he is even taller than I thought, towering over me—but I do not shrink away. He taps the basket handle and then smirks, looking behind me. I glance over my shoulder, the tall silhouette of my family home looming just behind us. If he decides to cause a scene, my father will make me give the coin back—no matter how desperately we need it.

My cheeks warm at the thought of having to apologise, and the indignity of doing so to those that steal from us every week. I tug the basket backwards, holding it behind my body as I lift my chin to the stranger defiantly.

“Who are you then?” I ask, squinting to try and get a better glimpse of his face beneath the hood. Certainly not from here, very few can afford a thick, velvet coat like his—and he is tanned, the sort of colour you get from spending long days in the sun.

A merchant wouldn’t leave the market either, they would see no point in it.

“Hurry on home, thief,” he whispers softly and before I can correct him, he steps backwards and strolls off down the path.

Releasing a breath I did not realise I was holding; I turn and hurry back towards to the house. If anyone overheard our exchange... no, the town is near empty with the sun quickly setting. Nobody is around—which might be exactly why he cornered me.

Once within the low gate of our property, a familiar child squeals at the sight of me.

“Lara!” a high-pitched voice squeals as a flash of blonde hair zips past me, darting between my legs with a wicked grin. Mud cakes his hands, and before I can dodge it, he plants both palms right across the front of my grey dress, leaving a mess in his wake.

Placing the basket on the stone wall, I let out an exaggerated gasp and lunge after him. “Oh, you’re in for it now!” I growl playfully, catching his legs and hoisting him into the air. His arms flail, squealing like a stuck piglet as I dangled him upside down above the muddy pond that he’d just been splashing in.

“NO!” he shrieks, giggling and grabbing at my legs in attempt to save himself.

I laugh and shake him lightly once before setting him down on his feet, but the second his boots hit the ground, he bolts straight toward the small castle. Grabbing the basket, I chase after him, trying to catch him before he soaks the stone floors with pond water—or worse, gets sick in the bitter air that clings to our bones year-round. Sun or no sun, the cold never really leaves this place.

The moment I step through the heavy castle doors, I scan the open hall. No sign of him.

“Leo?” I call, not too loud, but enough to carry through the damp passageways.

A muffled giggle answers me from the left.

I tiptoe to the storage closet and yank the door open, a wide-eyed Leo tumbling out with mischief filled giggles to accompany the tumble of cleaning supplies that follows him out the closet. I dive for him but miss and he darts off as I recover from my attempt to catch him.

He scurries into the kitchen, and I trail behind him, pretending to be unable to catch him.

My mother walks up to me the moment I enter the kitchen, taking the basket from me. I don’t need to tell her about the hidden coins—it is a frequent habit of mine that she knows better than to ask about, just collect. My father does not look up at me from his seat in the middle of the kitchen. He pretends not to know, but deep down I know our state is shameful to him; Head of the town, with nothing to show for it.

The same old vegetable soup with whatever game is left cooks in the pot, slightly warming up the room.

I sigh, turning to look for Leo’s next hiding spot. “I will get Leo ready for supper.”

“Elara.”

My father’s voice stops me in my tracks, turning to look at him. “Yes?”

“Did you see anything strange in town today?” He asks.

I pause, thinking about the man who had cornered me in the alley—but shake my head. People come and go in this town all the time, never staying for very long, hardly anything worth notable.

My mother lets out a sigh of relief at this and I frown, looking between the two of them. Both appear tense—tired—with deep bags settled beneath their eyes. More than normal.

“What’s wrong?” I question, giggling coming from the hallway beyond the kitchen.

My father opens his mouth but pauses, as if worried he may say too much. Then changes tactic; “Nothing to worry yourself with.”

I frown but leave the room, knowing better than to pry. They would tell me on their terms, and not a moment sooner.

After getting Leo cleaned up, we return to the kitchen which is silent for the first time in years—cementing my fear that something is very wrong. I don’t mention it in front of Leo, gnawing anxiously on my cheek and unable to get much of the bland soup down.

My father is the first to stand, wobbling with his cane over to the fireplace. It is seldom lit and tonight seems to be one of those lucky evenings where warmth crackles from it.

“Firelda,” he says to my mother, not turning to look at us. “Please take Leo to bed.”

My mouth dries as she complies, leaving the room. I have put Leo to bed almost every night for all ten years of his life.

Something is wrong.

“When you were sick, we prayed to the Gods that you would recover,” his voice is soft, and he does not turn to look at me. I approach him slowly as he continues the story I have heard several times.

“Everyone told us to do so sparingly—that the Gods are not merciful and whatever they give, they will expect tenfold in return.”

I frown; this is not the version I am familiar with. “Father—”

He cuts me off, turning around to hold out a white piece of paper with elegant writing scrawled on it. The envelope is abandoned beside the fireplace.

“It turns out the Gods chose today,” he states simply as I walk over to him, taking the letter from him. I read the words once, then twice, just to make sure I have not missed anything. My heart sinks to my stomach as my mother enters the room once more.

“When?” My voice is hollow, the paper shaking in my hands. “When do I leave?”

His shoulders sag forward. “Tomorrow.”

I drop into the chair beside the fireplace, hoping that I will wake up at any second and this will all be a dream.

Or a joke—but the chest filled with gold sits in the corner of the room tells a very different story. More than we have had in years. The fact I had not noticed it yet, overflowing, is astonishing.

The paper scrunches in my clenches fist and the disbelief fades, replaced by anger.

I sit in silence, jaw clenching and unclenching, eyes glued to the dusty stone floor. My arms are crossed tight across my chest, a scowl etched deep into my brow. I can’t bring myself to look at my father, and my mother—Gods, she won’t even look at me. I scowl deeper and look aware from the pair of them towards the cracked walls.

I know it is useless to try and argue my side. I’d known this moment would come for a long while now. But that doesn’t stop the white-hot anger that coils in my chest like a living thing.

They are selling me off to the Fae for an alliance.

Hostile territory. Hostile people. And I am being given to them like a lamb to slaughter.

“Marriage is the only way to save us,” my father says again. “The Fae want an alliance with us—”

“As if we’d ever try to attack them.” I laugh bitterly. “We can barely feed ourselves. They would have taken one look at us and known this—had they even bothered to come here themselves.”

I drop the scrunched-up letter to the floor between us, not that he would know. He still has yet to look me in the eye.

The silence between us thickens. The truth sat plain and ugly in the room: we are starving, we are desperate, and our kingdom is a skeleton of what it once was.

“The last time they sent an ask like this,” my father adds grimly, “I was barely older than Leo. The council wrote back and turned them down. Then they arrive in force. Soldiers everywhere—even if we had fought back, it would not have made a difference. Power in every step; and so they took her. Someone just like you.”

I shake my head in denial, in disbelief. “They have done this before, and now they come again.”

“They paid a good price, far more than any human courtier would be able to afford,” he states softly, as if that makes it any better. As if the gold would warmmybones or ease my fear.

My parents have as little choice in this as I do. My anger fizzles out, the gold would be enough to last my family for years. This is what my whole purpose has been, it is selfish of me to ever have thought otherwise.

Our lands are barren, we had barely sold more than a coupe livestock this season, and no crops to fill the gaps (or stomachs). We had been relying on the council’s stipend to keep our town afloat. I know this is what I owe them, our people, but I can’t stop my heart from hammering in my chest like a trapped bird.

“You knew this was your fate,” he adds, more for his own comfort than mine.

I had always known that I was livestock to be raised and sold off to the highest bidder, for the highest alliance power. “But not to them.”

Without another word, I storm from the room, clenching my fists at my side uselessly. I stop in the hall, back hitting the cold stone and sink to the floor, my breaths coming out in gasps.

“Firelda,” my father’s voice is soft, muffled through the door that they had closed behind me. “This may be the first winter in decades that we do not struggle through.”

The rest of the words are lost, whispers between my parents, perhaps about how they would spend their fortune.

I picture my brother Leo with a full belly beside a fireplace, a fur draped across his body to keep his shoulders warm as the usual snow tormented the castle. Previous winters had been hard, many left to westward towns in search of warmer weather conditions, but we had never abandoned our post. This time around would be easier, even if I am not here to see it.

Releasing a breath, I make my way back to my room on shaky legs, Leo is already there, snuggled beneath the covers. His golden curls rise and fall with his breaths, tears staining his cheek—he must have overheard. I trace a hand down his head absently, wondering how long it would take him to forget about me. For years, we had been each other’s only friend. There are so few children in our town, most shipped out to have better futures and who could blame their parents for doing so.

We are all each other has.

Climbing in beside him, I try to stop the ache settling into my chest at the thought of him having only our cold father and absent mother to keep him company. Perhaps they would bring staff in to tend to him, now that they could afford it.

I stare up at the ceiling and try to remember a time when my life had ever been my own. But all I can recall was duty, obligation, sacrifice. A pawn on a board that I’d never had the power to step away from.

I’d always known I’d be married off for politics. But I’d imagined a human. Someone who shares my world, my fragility. Not this. Not monsters from the other side of the forest who takes girls and never sends them back—at least not in one piece.

My dreams are a twisted mess of sharp teeth and horns, of Fae voices laughing as I am paraded before them like some pretty little pet. I wake with a gasp, soaked in sweat, just as the dawn breaks over the horizon.

I don’t cry as I leave.

I don’t scream, or beg, or look back more than once. Leo had sniffed softly beside my parents, but we had already said our goodbyes just before sunrise.

He had made me promise to come back, I hadn’t had the heart to tell him that nobody comes back from where I am going but had made the promise regardless. His smaller hands had shook as we locked pinkies together.

“This is the only way,” my father had said, the only words he had offered in goodbye. And I’d believed him, if only because not believing would shatter me.

From my stance atop my families only horse, my fingers clutching the reins leaving the castle that had raised me—crumbling stone, faded banners, broken windows—it is no longer mine. Perhaps it never had been.

I cast one more look at the dishevelled castle, barely a shadow behind me in the rising sun, and try to picture it in its full glory, before the war had hollowed it out. Before debt had cracked every surface, arches caving in under the weight of history. When nobles would gather and have feasts, their colourful silk and shining guards would bustle around with laughter.

The edges of the town, small stone walls, swallow up the view as I leave, the gate creaking on hinges as the townsfolk refuse to meet my gaze. News had travelled fast, and although I am well liked, they all knew what this would bring them.

Maybe they had felt bad for me when hearing, but I know the chatter that now filled the streets would eat up any of that guilt as they had their fill for the first time in years.

I am a necessary sacrifice that will save them for generations to come.

There are two men, probably workers from the mill. Both do not greet me as they sit atop their horses, waiting to escort me to my fate. I wonder how much of my father’s ne fortune they have been paid to risk walking through the forest everyone fears so much.

I do not bother asking.

In time, they kick their mounts on and head down the path. One in front and one behind me.

A gust of wild rattles the bushes around us, a chill sinking into my bones as I shiver. The gates creak shut as I dig my heels into the horse’s sides, urging him forward.

The silence between the three of us is deafening. It is as if I am already a ghost to them. I swallow past the lump that sits in my throat as everything I have known lightens with the break of dawn.

The ride is long and hard. The first night we had been able to make a small fire from the matches one of my escort’s packs. I had shivered in front of it for hours, unable to sleep but managing to stay warm enough to keep frost bite away.

My two escorts had finally broken their silence to offer me a bite of a cold, stale load. And then again to urge me to sleep. I turned down both.

I couldn’t eat, and I certainly couldn’t sleep.

But the second night, after finally caving to hunger and eating the last of the shared food, it had started to drizzle. With no chance of starting up a fire, we had decided to trudge on and make it to the forest sooner, rather than later.

By daybreak, even my horse, whom I had aptly named Titan for his large size, had struggled to find enough grass among the frost to keep his own stomach from grumbling.

Wishing I had not given the last apple to Titan, I grip the reigns with white knuckles; hunger would be the least of my worries with what lies ahead of me.

That’s when the two men pull their horses to a stop. I slow Titan and look back, brows furrowed. One of them won’t meet my eyes, the other spits into the dirt before saying what they’ve clearly been debating since sunrise.

“We don’t go further,” he says, voice stiff. “The line ends here.”

I blink at him. “What?”

“You heard me,” he says, shifting in his saddle. “The edge of the forest is as far as we were paid to go. We don’t step foot past that tree line.”

Fear simmers beneath his tone. Real fear. The kind that makes a grown man tremble in his boots. “We’re not stupid enough to enter it—not even in daylight.”

The other man nods, already turning his horse. “May the gods keep you, girl.”

I open my mouth, unsure whether to argue or beg, but they’re already wheeling around. In seconds, their horses are kicking up frost and dust, heading back the way we came.

I sit there, stunned, watching them grow smaller until they vanish around the bend. My fingers tighten around Titan’s reins again.

I shiver, recalling the stories of beasts that would steal souls and trap you in the jaws of the forest. Recalling the tales I had heard from the traders barely two days ago, before my life had been flipped upside down.

I take the last swig of water from my flask, knowing I only have until sundown to make it through the other side.

"The Fae have sent their own escort; they will wait for you in a clearing at the end of the path. It is straight shooting, only a matter of hours to get in and out.” my father’s words rack through my mind as I stared into the dark treeline.

I want to snort at the delusion, thepathhe had mentioned is nothing but dirt with a line of scattered bushes next to it. For a moment I let my eyes drift left, wondering if the Fae would bother coming for me if I never arrived in the clearing, or just assume that the forest had taken me, the beasts taking my soul away.

But the alternative, of them returning and demanding the gold back from my family, just because I ran off... or perhaps taking another because I could not accept responsibility.

No, I cannot do that to my family or to anyone else.

Placing the flask back into the saddlebag, beside the bag that carries what little I had been able to take from the castle without leaving Leo with nothing, I nudge Titan forward and he whinnies softly, as if aware of what stories lay within the trees.

“As long as the sun is up, they cannot get us,” I whisper, not sure if for his or my own sanity, but he trots on steadily.

The shadows swallow us up greedily, and despite the myths and legend, the forest is full of sounds. Rustles of unseen creatures in the underbrush, small squeaks and scratches and birds squawking away overhead as they built their nests ahead of winter. Beneath the familiar comforting sounds of nature, is also the prickling feeling that I am being watched.

The hairs prick up on my arms the deeper we go, less and less light managing to break through the canopies overhead. The sounds seem to quieten with distance, as if the creatures themselves dare not come this deep into the forest.

I gulp nervously, squinting through the treetops above to try and figure out how much time has passed since entering the forest. Speckles of blue offer me slight comfort as I let out a breath, I had not known I was holding.

“They cannot get you while the sun is up,” I repeat my mantra, thankful that it had proved true thus far. Titan knickers softly in agreement and I let out a nervous laugh as I pat his neck.

The dirt path continues to wind on, and I lose track of the time as I stare through the thick trees and bushes around me, glad there had not yet been any splits in the path to add on to the adventure.

Biting the inside of my cheek anxiously, I try to recall any information I know about the Fae but draw a blank. Everyone is too afraid to talk about them, stories lost from generation to generation as time went on. Maybe they can travel faster and make it through the forest in hours, but for a human it seems never ending.

And then it hits me.

There is no clearing.

The thought stabs through me like ice. No markers, no signs, no widening of the path—just endless trees and the same narrowing trail we’ve been following for hours. I’d expected to see something by now. Anything. A break in the treeline, even a faint shimmer of light or sound that might hint at someone waiting. But there’s nothing.

Just me and Titan.

My father’s words had been spoken with such certainty, but I see now how easily that certainty could be faked. The Fae never meant to meet me here. They had no reason to make it easier for me. No reason to offer safety.

I’ve been sent to walk into this forest alone.

A sudden break in the trees above me makes my blood run cold, the sky is starting to tinge amber, indicating that it is nearing sunset. And we had yet to make it out the forest.

Nudging slightly harder with my heels, Titan picks up his pace and my thighs ache at the jostle, tender from having been seated in such an uncomfortable saddle for hours.

All at once, the sounds of the forest disappear, as if even the trees themselves are holding their breath. A chill slithers down my spine, and I tense, casting nervous glances around me. The feeling of being watched no longer a suspicion, I am certain of it.

Titan huffs nervously, slowing his pace and ears swivel as his muscles tense beneath me. Even the wind that had been whistling through the trees all day had stopped, as if holding its breath for what is to come.

“Titan,” I hiss, trying to urge the horse onwards but he refuses to budge, his eyes fixated on the path directly in front of him. I follow his gaze, squinting but there is nothing there. At least nothing I can see.

A snap echoes through the trees, Titan whipping his head to the left as he takes a single cautious step backwards. And then another. He is going to bolt; I can feel it from the way he was inching backwards.

“Titan—”

My warning barely leaves my lips as a deep, low laugh dripping with amusement cuts through the silence around us, and it is too late to stop him. Titan rears backwards, throwing me off so I land with a thump, all air whooshing from my lungs as I curl inwards, head spinning.

My breaths are short as I try to catch them, holding my breath as my sides burn in protest, legs tingling from the impact. Titan’s heavy steps echo off into the distance behind me, leaving me completely alone.

Rolling onto my back, I stare up through the trees.

The flecks of sky are barely visible, the amber slowly fading into dusk.

On shaky legs, I will myself onto my feet, stumbling forwards as I clutch at my right arm which feels bruised from the fall, having taken most of the impact. I stare ahead, down the path that Titan had refused to follow, and shuffle forward.

My breaths are coming out in pants; the air white wisps as it gets colder with nightfall.

Another laugh barks from behind me, but I refuse to look. It is not the hollow wail of a beast; it is something humanlike. Bending slightly, but not stopping my shuffling steps, I pull the dagger from my boot.

It is pointless, I have never been taught to fight, but maybe if I got a good swing or two in it could buy me time.

Whatever had let out the laugh has not let loose another sound, and whether or not it is following me... I dare not look back to find out. Feet growing numb from lack of appropriate walking attire, I fix my gaze forward and see a break in the trees. It is dark, but it has to be the end of the forest. If not...

I don’t stop to entertain the thought and pick up the pace, wincing through the pain. I am so close...

A wild shriek, something no sentient being could be able to make, breaks through the forest behind me. I falter, stumbling as I dare a look over my shoulder.

My blood turns to ice as a dark blur shoots across the forest path.

I turn forward to carry on but stop as another shadow darts out in front of me, closer than the first and too fast to make out what it is. Clutching the dagger to my chest, I take a step forward, eyes darting around the forest to try and make sense of the creatures tormenting me.

Another shriek, and another, and then another shadow running through the forest on my right—except this one stop and steps out from the treeline.

It is low to the ground, hunched, and has daggers for teeth that are dripping saliva on to the forest floor. Horns twist from its head, eyes glowing so bright they are almost white. It takes a single step towards me, twisting its head to the side and lifting its beastly nose to the sky, smelling me.

I hold my breath, not daring to make a sound or move in fear that it will launch itself at me. To its right, another set of eyes peers out at me, a mirror of the first, and then another joining in just behind it. All watching me, waiting.

I take a step back, but this sets it off. With a shriek mirroring the ones from earlier, the beast launches itself at me, its yellow teeth going straight for my neck. Diving to the left and holding out the dagger towards it, I manage to evade its clutches as it lands just feet from where I had been standing moments before.

The others that had been watching me have not moved, but their eyes are still fixed on me. Without waiting to see if they would copy the first, I dart down the path as the beast snarls behind me. I hear pounding steps behind me, but charge onwards, the edge of the forest so close I can almost reach out and touch it.

My breathing is laboured, and my entire body burns from over exertion, and just when I am about the break the treeline, one of the beasts launches itself out the bushes to my right and plants itself directly in my way.

All too late, I try to stop but it rakes its claws across my forearm, blood welling to the surface as I stumble sideways around it, clutching onto my arm as blood drips to the floor. The beast that had struck me pauses, growling softly.

“Stay back,” I whisper, blood-streaked fingers holding out the shaking dagger towards it. The scent of death and decay is all around me, and I take a step backwards, the treeline just paces behind me.

The beast copies my movement, stepping forward but stopping mere inches away, black nose twitching as its mouth opens, moments away from devouring me whole.

But it does not move.

Without waiting to see if more were following, I turn and stumble the last couple of steps it takes to get me out the forest, the cold air smacking me in the face as my blood pounds through my ears.

The beasts have not followed, only their eyes looking out between the darkness as they watch me take slow backward steps up the hill away from them, my arm still dripping onto the grass. One by one the eyes blink out, leaving only the darkness as I sink to my knees.

I have made it.

The moon is shining above me, full and bright as I gasp in breaths of air, willing my heart to stop trying to run away from me. My arm is on fire as I drop the dagger to inspect the damage, torn red flesh glaring up at me angrily. With nothing to do but find help, I look away from the forest and suck in a sharp breath at the sight before me.

Where my home had been crumbling and dishevelled, in disrepair for years, this is the complete opposite. Where ivy crept up unchecked and rain seeped through cracked ceilings, this castle is alive—dark spires twisting towards the sky as if the structure had grown from the lands itself. The dark walls surrounding the Fae castle shimmer, an eerie mix of obsidian and something more ethereal, it seems to breath under the moon’s touch.

From afar, the windows, tall and narrow, glow faintly from within like watchful eyes, observing my every move. I swallow hard past the lump in my throat, it is beautiful in every way—and unrelentingly terrifying.

I will myself forward, taking a step with my legs twitching from exhaustion and bloodied hands trembling at my sides. I have spent years cursing the Fae for what they had done to my kind, bringing the human Kingdom to ruin. I had thought I would feel anger upon seeing them living in such a lavish lifestyle, but the only feeling sinking deeper into my stomach is dread.

I have just walked straight into a cage of humankind’s greatest enemy.

There is nobody waiting to greet me, no gathered welcome party, although a gathering of Fae was the last thing I want to deal with. Before I quite make it up the path to the large gates separating the outside from the castle, they swing open. A tall figure clad in armour glares down at me, hand on the hilt of their sword.

As if I am of any threat tothem.

“You are interrupting dinner,” the Fae growls at me, gesturing for me to come inside and closing the door behind me. My eyes are wide at the accusation, thatIam inconveniencing them of anything at all.

I open my mouth, ready to send back a rude retort, but instead sway on my feet. Unable to put the words together, arms flailing for anything to catch myself on, my knees hit the ground at the same time the whole world turns to black.