Thirty-Four
I awake in a small, dimly lit room with a ceiling that feels too close. I roll onto my side, rubbing my scratchy eyes. The room is bare except for a chair and a small table. On the table sits a lantern with a candle flickering inside.
“Oh, you’re awake, dear. How lovely.” Someone short comes into the room. Someone with grey hair and wearing a long dress. She bends over me, and I see black eyes in a face covered with fine, reptilian-like scales.
Reptiscilla, my brain tells me.
“Who are you?” I ask.
She smiles down at me. “Someone who decided not to leave you out there in the wreckage.”
“The wreckage?” I repeat. I’m still trying to make sense of where I am, how I got here, and what happened before I fell asleep. I’m coming up blank.
“The wreckage of the forest. It was torn
