Please,” I whispered to no one and nothing in particular. “Let this be a step forward, not a stumble into a pit.”
No one answered.
I shut the window against the cold and my own useless plea.
Sleep, when it came, was shallow and strange.
I dreamed of letters with teeth, of paper cutting my fingers open, of blood dripping through the hollow of a tree and painting the border red.
When I jerked awake sometime later, heart pounding, the room was dark save for the dying glow of the banked hearth.
I sat up slowly, rubbing my eyes.
A sound floated up from outside.
Not the usual nighttime noises—owl calls, distant howls from patrols.
This was closer.
A low voice, speaking words I couldn’t make out.
Curiosity tugged.
I slid out of bed and padded to the window, pushing the curtain aside j
