I sing to myself. It’s one of the songs I remember singing as a child but can’t place where, or who, I learned it from. It’s a macabre song about a human who falls for a creature of the deep wood, and my singing is terrible, but it’s better than silence.
“Meet me underneath the silver boughs,
No one else has to know.
Meet me under the veil of secrets,
Before the day expires.
There, my love, I’ll steal your face,
Before anyone inquires.”
A twig cracks behind me. I spin in place. The haunting melody lingers in the air as I can barely make out movement in the darkness.
I hear the snarl first, a low growl that activates my primal prey-drive to flee. Then, a glint of light breaks the mist. Two, luminous, glowing yellow eyes peer at me.
Step by step, the hulking beast approaches. It’s the largest wolf I’ve ever seen, with paws nearly the size of my booted feet. Its fur is a dark slate color, as if it were born from the mist itself. Its lips are peeled back from its razor sharp teeth.
I match its steps by inching backward.
“Don’t,” I whisper. The word quivers. “Please, don’t.”
Why did I have to sing? I might as well have basically shouted, Here I am, terrible beasts of the Fade! Come and eat me! Now I’m going to die alone in the dark because of a song I don’t even like that much.
My back presses into a wide tree trunk and I glance around, looking for somewhere to climb. Damn. Of course there’re no branches.
I look back to the snarling beast, meeting its eyes as I reach in my satchel and retrieve the other roses. If I can make a branch grow, I might be able to climb high enough. Though, judging by its powerful legs, I’m already in lunging distance.
“I’m not a good meal,” I say. “Why don’t you go back where you came from?”
If it were possible, the wolf only snarls more.
My hand closes around the rose stems. I press my other palm into the tree behind me. What do I want to do? Grow a branch? Will I be able to swing up in time?
I could try and make a cage of roots, like Eldas did to Luke. But the complexity of making something large and strong enough makes me nervous. Meanwhile, the wolf continues to approach.
Choose, Luella, before you’re food.
Branch it is.
The roses wither and crumble under my fingers. But nothing happens. Magic flares in me and fizzles out harmlessly in the air.
The wolf lets out a roar and goes to lunge. I try and scramble up the tree, uselessly. In the process, I slip on the damp moss and fall backward.
The world moves slowly.
This is it. This is how I die. Mother always said I went too deep in the forests. She always told me that if anything did me in, it would be that I wandered too far from home.
You were right, Mother.
My back slams into the earth and my bones rattle. I nearly bite my tongue clean off. My teeth sting and ears ring. I imagine the sensation of the throne clawing under my skin. It’s the wolf claws on me now. Then there will be the teeth, and blood, and—
Hot breath is by my ear. Sniffing.
I pry open my eyes and am met with the wolf’s luminous gaze. It sniffs the side of my face. The boy—as I can now affirm—circles me. He sniffs my hands and buries his nose into my bag.
When he’s done with his inspection, he sits, curls his bushy tail around his paws, and stares expectantly.
“What?” I slowly sit upright. “You’re not going to eat me?” The wolf continues to watch me. “Then what was all that growling for?” I rub the back of my head. It’s still aching. “And what made you stop? Not that I’m complaining.”
He tilts his head at me. His ears twitch. It’s then that I notice a deep gouge in his right ear.
“Wait…are you…no, you couldn’t be…” I shift onto my knees, finally getting a good look at the wolf. He continues to stare expectantly. His tail lifts and then drops heavily. “Are you the same wolf as that day in the woods with Luke?”
It has to be. He has the same bright, knowing eyes as the wolf we saw then…now that he’s not snarling at me.
“Is this the second time you’ve startled me out of my skin?” I