Starheart and the Dark

Moon Winters

Chapter One

The voice in my head would not stop shouting.

Oh my gosh, Starheart, what is Wrong with you?! Put it down! She sounded very unhappy.

I must agree, Starheart, another voice chimed in. It's quite moldy. Not good for eating. Have you heard of botulism? Because this is how you get botulism.

Relax, would you? I'm not gonna eat it. I stuck the frighteningly green, fuzzy cream cheese into the trash.

My friends didn't like it when I ate old food. I always tried to tell them that best before dates were only a suggestion, and that food waste should be avoided at all costs, but they never listened.

They protected me in a lot of ways, actually. They were always telling me things like, 'Be careful, Starheart.' Or 'Don't go down that cliff, Starheart.' Or even just 'Stop eating weird things you find on the sidewalk, Starheart.' Once they even pointed out some guy following me home when I was too preoccupied waving a stick around to notice. I wasn't always so great at taking care of myself. Maybe that was why they were so protective of me.

Opening a new container of cream cheese, I sat down at the table to butter my bagel. My sister was still asleep after a late-night shift and my mother was doing laundry in the other room, so I was pretty much alone until it was time to catch the bus.

Or so I thought.

My mother walked in. "Hi, Isabella."

"Hi," I said cheerfully.

She looked down and smiled. "You're wearing your new shirt."

I nodded enthusiastically. "It's a good one, isn't it? I used the last of my Christmas money on it. It's got Nora and Seafern, see? That particular screenshot is from the start of season three, right after a big fight. That's why everything looks so dramatic."

"Very cool," she said in her I'm-trying-to-sound-interested voice.

"I got another shirt, too," I continued. "That one has River on it. I'm wearing that tomorrow."

"Who's River again?" Mom asked, sitting down across from me.

"You know. The fox person? Lab experiment?"

She looked at me blankly.

"The one who lives in the woods?" I tried.

She nodded. "I remember that one!"

I couldn't contain my happiness. "Dad says he'll watch more of Dragon's Call with me tonight."

"You're so weird," my sister said while walking in. She gave me one of her famous judgy looks as she headed to the fridge. "You go around looking like that—" she gestured at my tail "—and talking about dumb T.V shows all day. And you wonder why you don't have friends."

I bristled. "They're not dumb. They're the coolest shows ever made! Nora saved a whole species, you know. That's objectively heroic."

"That's exactly what I meant." She turned to Mom. "Please tell your daughter never to talk like that to anyone outside the house."

"Leave her alone, Emily," she said with a sigh.

What does she know, anyway? I said. She's never even seen you.

Just let it go, River advised wisely. She craves your negative reaction. Deny her, and her meanness starves.

Punch her in the face, Nora said.

I can't remember exactly when it started, but it couldn't be much more than a year. A year since I started hearing them. A year since my imaginary conversations with River and Nora started to seem real. It wasn't like I 'heard' them in the typical sense. It wasn't sounds reaching my ears. It was always from inside my mind, like a second stream of thoughts beside my own.

It wasn't scary to me at all. In fact, it was really quite nice. I had friends wherever I went, even if I couldn't see them in the conventional sense. I liked to think of it as being haunted by friendly ghosts—they always had a kind word for me when things were looking rough. I wasn't as lonely as I would've been otherwise.

Nice or not, I had a sense that told me not to share this particular secret with anyone. It wouldn't go down well for me.

I knew it wasn't exactly normal—what kind of seventeen-year-old had imaginary friends?—but I'd never really been one to care about that sort of thing. I wouldn't get rid of them even if I knew how. We were a team, us three. Even if their advice wasn't always perfect.

Nora, I can't punch everyone who's mean to me, I said. That's not a good way of dealing with bullies.

Why not?

Because it's not an effective strategy for staying out of jail, River said. And I thought that was the goal here: keep Starheart alive and out of jail.

Maybe Starheart wants to go to jail, Nora replied. Betcha didn't think of that, did you? Hey Starheart, what do you think of strict routines?

Sounds like it could get boring pretty fast. Might give it a shot, though. I could tell by now when she was messing with me. I liked to play along.

You can always spice things up by shanking someone in the cafeteria.

Mom glanced at the clock on the oven. "The bus is going to be here soon, isn't it? Do you have everything ready?"

I did. A little relieved to get away from my sister, I said goodbye and headed into the hallway towards the front door. The old wooden floorboards squeaked under my feet. My faux fox tail—clipped to my back belt loop—brushed against my legs.

I was halfway to the door when a familiar flicker of darkness moved at the edge of my vision, quietly slipping out of the bathroom door to follow me. I wasn't fazed. The Shadow had never hurt me before. I let it do its thing.

I don't know how you're so alright with that creature, River said. Frightening beast. I'd jump out of my fur if it started following me.

I stopped. The Shadow kept drifting towards me. I took a pretty good look at it in my peripheral vision. It was tall—taller than my dad, and he was pretty big—human-shaped—though a bit blobby—, completely featureless, and the darkest shade of black I'd ever seen. Darker than the dark, I always said. It stood out even in the dimmest rooms.

I turned my head the rest of the way before it got too close. It always vanished when I tried to look at it head-on. Harmless or not, I never let it reach me. I didn't know what would happen if it managed to, and I wasn't too keen on finding out.

Just used to it, I guess, I told River.

The air outside was warm with the freshness of spring, a refreshing change from the long, dark, cold days of winter. The grass was bright and the trees looked happier than usual. I loved the way the air smelled—damp and wet, so alive with young green growing things.

The bus stop was a short walk from home. I made it just in time to catch the right bus and was lucky enough to get a window seat. That didn't usually happen. I was starting to think this would be a very nice day.

It was about two-thirds of the way to school when things changed.

I was studying a gross old piece of toast someone had left on the floor when the familiar rumble-hiss of the bus stopping filled the air. I looked up to see how close we were getting, and directly locked eyes with her.

I looked away as quickly as I could, but I knew she'd seen me.

What if she says something? What if she sits next to me? What am I supposed to say to her?

I hugged my backpack like my life depended on it, trying to look very interested in that piece of toast. I felt her eyes linger on me for a second before she moved to the back of the bus and I could somewhat relax again.

You okay, man? Nora sounded worried. What's up with you and her?

Nothing, I said.

Now, really, Starheart, River chided gently. You're always acting like that when she's near. Is she mean to you like the others? I've never seen her act that way. There was curiousity in her voice.

No, Cammy isn't mean to me. I sighed. We used to know each other, but none of that matters now.

They dropped it after that, and we made it the rest of the way without incident.

The big Canadian flag on the pole flapped proudly in the wind as bodies streamed past me to get to the front door. I found myself the tiniest bit frozen as I tried to build up the courage to go inside.

Wish I was there, Nora said wistfully. Nobody would mess with you after I dealt with them.

Turn your music up louder today. You can't hear what they say if you do. River's advice was, as usual, decent.

I wished I didn't need it.

People weren't always nice to me about my tail. They were teenagers—of course they weren't. It wasn't that bad—most people ignored me or even seemed to like it. The ones who didn't were near unbearable, though. I thought I'd get used to having taunts shouted at me if it happened every day, but my anxiety only seemed to grow the more it happened. Music was a good way to block them out, but it was harder to ignore the crueler ones who tried to rip my tail off.

My mother thought I should stop wearing it. In her eyes, that would make things easier. She didn't know the full story.

I wasn't human. My body was—I knew that—but not my heart. My heart was a fox. It always had been. I was sure it always would be. I couldn't see myself any other way.

It was an inherent part of who I was. A fox soul in a human vessel. I thought it was why I felt so out of place most of the time. People expected me to be something I wasn't.

Nobody besides Nora and River knew. That was another secret that shouldn't leave my head.

Steeling myself, I headed inside the school. If I kept my eyes down and moved quickly, I could avoid attention. Maybe this would be one of the good days, where nobody seemed to notice me.

As I fought with my lock, I saw a very, very tall person weaving his way towards me through the crowd of people.

Oh, man, I groaned. He found me.

What's so bad about Michael? River asked. He seems like a lovely fellow to me. Not nasty, which is a bonus.

I don't know. I just don't know what to say to him, I guess. People don't usually want to be friends with me.

Nora spoke up. It couldn't hurt to have friends that are, you know…

Real? I offered.

Sure. 'Real'. Let's go with that.

But I like you guys, I said. I don't want different friends.

We wouldn't stop being friends, she replied. But maybe you don't have to be alone all the time. You know? It would be good for you to have people that aren't just us.

Yes, what if we suddenly die in a terrible fire? River supplied.

"Hi, Isabella." Michael found his way to me. He had a big, happy smile.

I hated my human name. Starheart sounded so much better to me. But I was too scared to ask anyone but my brain friends to use it. It wasn't something I could go by with anyone else. Star, maybe.

Still, I returned his smile. "Hi! Hello! How are you this fine day?"

"Good," he said. "Not as good as you, maybe. How are you always so happy?"

I half shrugged. "There's lots to be happy about."

Someone behind me made a gagging sound. I tried to pretend I didn't hear it. It was easier for me that way.

"What's wrong with his face?" the same person said.

"Don't know," came a response. "I'd rather die than look like that, honestly."

His? They weren't talking about me, then. Curiosity getting the better of me, I turned around to look.

Two girls—most likely the ones I'd heard—were huddled in the middle of the hallway, whispering loudly to each other. They kept shooting looks at a boy pulling things out of his locker.

He was a little younger than me—probably a grade below. He was small, with a head of messy blond hair. As I looked closer, I realized there was a large, bumpy, knarled scar that took up the entire left side of his face. He didn't say anything, but from the way his jaw was set and his eyes were down, I knew he'd heard them.

Pain bloomed below my ribs as they burst into giggles.

"He probably does wish he was dead. Anyone would. Who wants to live like that? Poor thing." She didn't sound sympathetic at all.

I was moving before I knew it. I thought I heard Michael call out to me, but I didn't want to stop.

Be careful, someone said.

I came up to the new boy a little too fast and aggressive. He jumped.

I tried to seem as nonthreatening as I could. "Are you okay?"

He seemed stunned into silence for a second, before nodding. "It's fine."

It didn't seem fine to me. The girls were still making tasteless comments. I locked eyes with the taller one, and I realized I recognized her. She'd mocked me before.

She doubled over laughing. "What is it doing? Is it gonna growl at me?"

"Mind your own business, you miserable jerk," I snapped.

Somehow, and to my dismay, that made her laugh harder.

The boy slammed his locker shut. "It's fine," he repeated. "Let's go."

I nodded—casting one more uneasy look at the girls—and led him back to my locker, where Michael was still waiting.

That was brave, Nora said to me.

Not really. I don't think I helped very much.

You definitely did, River replied. You gave him a friend. That much matters.

He did look grateful. Or maybe scared. Maybe both, actually.

"What's your name?" I asked.

He kept his head low. "Max. You?"

Michael introduced us both. The boy—Max—looked less and less afraid the more we talked to him. I could understand that. He'd had no way of knowing I meant well when I approached him.

"Do they bother you often?" I asked.

He nodded. "A lot of people do. I'm used to it. You probably are, too."

I studied him. I'd never seen him before, but that wasn't unusual in a school as big as ours. I wondered if he'd ever seen me before.

"You can hang out with us, if you want," I offered. "I mean, safety in numbers, right?"

He actually smiled at me. "That sounds fun. Thanks."

"What were they so upset about, anyway?" Michael had missed the unfortunate interaction.

Max looked away. "I think other people get more worked up about my face than I do. I was a baby when it happened. I don't remember it, and nobody died. It really doesn't bother me."

He cast a glance over his shoulder. "At least, until I meet people like that."

"They're miserable," I agreed.

"Sometimes I wonder what goes through the heads of people like that," Michael said distantly.

The bell rang before I could answer.

"Shoot," I said. "My class is all the way across the school. I've gotta run."

"See you!" Michael called as I dashed away.

"Bye, Isa!" said Max.

The rest of the day was shrouded in a boring fog. I spent most of it debating with Nora over whether or not she could beat a gorilla in a fight and listening to River's fun facts about whatever came to her mind. It was a good way to pass the time.

Did you know there's a word for the smell of fresh rain? she asked.

There is? I said. What's that?

Petrichor. It's a pretty word, isn't it? I like it.

It's wonderful. I've always liked that smell. I doodled a raindrop in my notes.

Okay, maybe I couldn't do it hand-to-hand, but I could Definitely take a gorilla if I had my sword, Nora argued.

I can agree with that, I said amicably. But what if he had a sword, too?

Well, then it depends on who has had more training.

In what situation would you encounter a well-trained warrior gorilla? River wondered.

When the last bell finally sounded its beautiful voice, freeing us to leave, my legs were aching and my head felt stuffy. I was more than ready to escape the too-hot building.

I found Max by the main staircase, hovering anxiously by the wall. He brightened when he saw me.

"Hi, Isa," he said.

"Hi," I said back. "Have you seen Michael?"

"Not yet. I think he's still stuck in class."

I looked around. "Anyone still bothering you? Do I need to go all crazy and fight them off for you?"

He smiled a little. It was touched with sadness. "No. Not today, at least."

I nodded. "Good. Maybe they learned their lesson."

His face fell. "I doubt it. People like that never change."

"Never?" I asked mildly. "What if they—"

"You can't change when you're rotten to the core," he said. He gave me a worried look. "Don't waste your time trying to fix them. You'll only get hurt."

I nodded again, quicker this time. Hoping it hid the look on my face. "Right. That makes sense."

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah. I just need to… to go. Forgot I had, uh, a doctor's appointment after school. I'll see you later." I made for the door.

He called out a confused goodbye, but I wasn't really listening.

The bus home was rumbly and loud. It was hard to tell the difference between the bumps in the road and the thumping of my heart. I heard Nora and River talking to each other, making jokes I could've joined in on, but I wasn't really listening.

People like that never change.

When we got off near my house, the air was damp with the aftermath of rain.

We. I found myself thinking in terms like that often. Sometimes I felt more like an us than a me. The three of us went everywhere together, after all. We were sort of a package deal.

Me and my… voices? Companions? Imaginary friends?

Somehow that last one never felt right to me. Like I was diminishing what they were. They didn't feel imaginary. Sometimes they remembered things I didn't, though it was easy enough to shrug off. I'd been doing this for a while. They probably felt so real because I'd convinced myself they were.

Don't waste your time trying to fix them.

I shuddered.

I set my backpack down on the bench by the door and headed upstairs. The dread was already creeping up my throat like bile. I couldn't think clearly.

He'd hate you if he knew.

You okay, buddy? Nora asked as I made it to my room.

I could only nod.

The posters on the walls seemed distant. Far away. Even my own hands felt detached and wrong, like they belonged to someone else. I was breathing too hard. River said something, but I barely heard her.

It's unforgivable. You always knew that.

A dark shape filled the corner of my vision right as the panic spiked. I whirled around, trying to chase off the Shadow with my gaze. I wasn't in the mood to deal with it.

It didn't vanish.

Crying out, I flinched back. It was standing in the doorway, looming so tall that its horrible black head brushed the frame. Its face—even as featureless as it was—radiated something deeply ominous. Long claws were curled around the edge of the door.

For a second—or maybe an eternity—we stared at each other. Me, frozen in stunned horror. It, rippling with satisfaction.

River whimpered.

"What do you want?" My voice shook so badly I barely got it out.

It stepped closer.

It's going to kill me, I realized.

I always thought the moment before I died would scare me. Instead, something hot and fierce burned in my chest, growing bigger and wilder with each of my heartbeats. This monster haunted me day and night, stalking me but never drawing close. Tasting my fear like prey. I was sick of it. Sick of the darkness and the fear. Sick of everything. Sick of me.

The thing growing in my heart snapped.

"Why don't you just do it already?" I snapped.

A ripple passed through its body. A low buzzing filled the air, growing louder by the minute. I put my hands over my ears.

Just when I was starting to think it would never end, it struck. Its massive, clawed hand swiped out at me in a wave of blackness. It struck me in the centre of my chest, sending pain lancing through my ribs. My legs gave out, and I crashed to the floor. My eyesight blurred.

I could hear my friends shouting, panicked, but I couldn't answer. I could only stare up at the Shadow's blank face as it loomed over me in my last moments of consciousness.

***

Someone was calling my name.

"Starheart? Starheart! Oh crud, please say something…"

It sounded like whoever was speaking was standing in the room with me. A wave of dizziness washed over me, and my skull started pounding with the worst headache of my life.

Starheart?!

That was Nora. I cracked my eyes open slowly. I was lying in the same spot on the floor, my entire body hurting. There was no sign of the Shadow.

Briefly, I wondered where that voice had come from. It had sounded so much like Nora's voice…

I must've hit my head pretty hard.

What was that?

It… River's voice trembled. I was certain it was going to kill you.

I froze. You saw it, too?

We both did.

Panic hit me like a truck. I sat up, gripping a fistful of the carpet. The knobs of my dresser poked into my spine.

It wasn't a dream, then. I'd been hoping it was. A dream, or a nightmare, or even an awful hallucination. That would've been better. That would've been manageable.

Starheart? Are you okay?

This was more than an attack. It was proof. Real, physical proof that what I'd been seeing all these years wasn't in my head. The Shadow was real, and it could hurt me.

As I sat there, sucking in breath after breath and trying not to drown in fear, the faint, residual pain in my ribs flared, a tangible reminder of what happened.

Chapter Two

Did you sleep at all last night?" Michael asked me the next day. We were sitting in our usual lunch spot.

Max had joined us somewhat nervously. The light in the theatre was dim. Usually it suited me just fine—I didn't like being seen—but today it made my eyelids heavy.

I shook my head.

"Bummer." He picked at his sandwich. "Why not?"

"Nightmares," I muttered.

It was an understatement. I was so shaken up after the Shadow's attack that I hadn't fallen asleep until at least three in the morning. When I finally did, I had one of the worst dreams of my life.

Death and darkness. I was in a long, cold hallway, barely illuminated by flickering fluorescent lights. The walls were made of metal, and streaks of rust gave it a dingy, bloody colour.

Faraway mechanical shrieks filled the air. My eyes told me I was alone, but I knew I was being hunted. The farther and faster I ran, the more my fear rose, until I knew I was seconds away from whatever it was finding me.

Then it stopped. I was in a forest clearing. Peaceful. Safe. A young deer was grazing by a bush.

My heart didn't have time to calm down before my safe haven changed, too. The trees rotted before my eyes. The flowers withered and died. The deer looked up at me desperately as its flesh turned grey and sloughed off its bones in bloody, maggot-filled piles.

I felt something cold on my shoulder. I turned around to see the Shadow, in all its familiar glory, standing behind me. Quietly, almost gently, it placed a hand on my forehead.

"Keep your eyes open." Its voice rattled my heart. "I can see you. Do you see me?"

I woke up in a cold sweat. The clock glared its bright red number at me: three thirty. Half an hour.

I didn't try again after that.

Perhaps we imagined it, River said almost pleadingly, bringing me back to the present.

All three of us? Nora was a lot quicker to believe it was real than we were. What are the chances of that?

What if it tries it again? I peered over my shoulder.

Paranoia was getting the better of me. I checked behind doors before entering rooms. I barricaded my closet. I'd never felt so jumpy in my life. I wondered if this was how rabbits felt—always looking behind them for waiting foxes. Knowing that sooner or later, their end would be met in the jaws of something more powerful than them.

I didn't like being prey very much.

We haven't seen it since yesterday, River noted. Perhaps it's left this plain for good.

It was weird. I never saw it at school or other places with lots of people, but usually I couldn't walk down a single hallway in my house without encountering it. When I was alone, it was ever-present, always stalking. It had been my constant companion for the past two years.

Since the attack, though? There wasn't a trace of it.

It only made me more nervous. Getting rid of it couldn't possibly be this easy. Something was happening. My dream made me sure of that.

"I hate it when that happens," Max said. It startled me. "Last week, I had a dream where all my teeth fell out. That one was pretty bad."

"Geez, do you ever have falling dreams?" Michael asked him. "I hate those."

I had one like that once, Nora mused, except I fell into a pit of spikes and watched myself bleed out.

"We've got wonderful brains, don't we?" I muttered out loud.

Max looked at me. "Did you say something?"

The nervousness got worse when I went home. My dad was in a meeting, and my mom had to drive my sister to work because her car had broken down. I was completely alone.

I slid into the living room, shutting the door behind me and lighting every lamp I could get my hands on. I sank to the floor in front of the couch, shivering.

What am I supposed to do? I moaned. I can't tell anyone about this. They'll think I've lost my mind. Do I wait around until it kills me?

We could fight it, Nora said. And yeah, yeah, I know, 'that's your solution to everything.' I'll have you know I'm actually a very well-rounded person. This just seems like a fighting kind of situation.

Our crazy, sword-obsessed friend might be right, River said.

Thank you.

We need to prepare, she continued. There was a slight pause. Hmm. I don't suppose you have fright potions on Earth, do you? That's probably for the best.

Jerico says they're useful in a fight, but I always thought they were rather unethical. Where's the honor in forcing your opponent to relive their darkest days?

What are you talking about? I was confused. 'On Earth'? What's a fright potion?

It's nothing, buddy, Nora said in a voice that sounded a little too much like the one you'd use to lie to a small, scared child. She's being silly.

She needs to find out someday, Nora.

Does she, though? It's not gonna make a difference to her. They usually don't believe us, anyway.

A long, low creaking sounded from deeper down the hallway. I looked up, my heart beating faster.

Just house sounds. It's just house sounds, right? I was trying to convince myself.

It most certainly is. The calmness of River's voice was reassuring. That sound happens all the time.

What if Mom comes home and finds my shrivelled, rotted corpse on the floor? I couldn't help but think of the deer from my dream.

Unlikely. It seems she's already home.

The rumbling of the garage door had me slumping with relief.

Mom immediately noticed how wild-eyed I looked. In a brief moment of panic, I told her I fell down the stairs. She believed me, though not without a massive amount of concern.

Feeling the slightest bit safer, I headed to our—my—room.

Starheart, is it possible that you're a liiiiiittle bit obsessed with us? Nora said.

My room was, at best, chaotic. Frankly, it had the general appearance of a room that had been puked all over by a hundred different fandoms. Two of them, of course, took up the most space.

I had everything I could get related to my friends. Posters, figurines, blankets, pillows, even a light switch cover. There wasn't a single space free of them.

Just a little, I agreed.

I liked it that way.

I crossed the room and peered into my fish tank where my two goldfish lived. Seafern was small and pale, with a nicked fin that he'd had since before I'd gotten him. Cheeseburger was darker and fatter.

He kept stealing his brother's food. I'd have to find a way to fix that.

Seafern was hiding near the back, swimming in happy circles. Cheeseburger hovered near the front, waving his fins at me. I liked to think he was saying hello.

I fed them—making sure Seafern got his fair share—and flopped onto the bottom bunk of my bed. It had been a long time since my sister and I shared a room, but I liked having a bunk bed a little too much to get rid of it.

Have you ever felt like you were going to die young? I asked. The question bubbled to life on my tongue before I could even think to stop it.

Absolutely, Nora said.

Not particularly, no, said River at the same time.

There was a pause. It was easy to imagine the look they would be giving each other.

I haven't felt that way for a while, Nora admitted, But, I remember it. It was back when… well, you know. You've seen it. But that's over now. I'm the one who's in control, not him.

I suppose I always had faith things would work out for me, River said. Even when it looked grim. Not that it didn't feel terribly pessimistic at times, but I never felt like death was truly bent on claiming me before my time.

Sometimes I get this sense… I yawned, my sleepless night weighing down on me. That I wasn't meant to last long. You know? Like some terrible accident or… something else will take me before I get old. Like my story was always meant to be a sad one. It's hard to see myself as old and wise and peaceful, somehow.

Are you okay, Starheart? Nora sounded mildly concerned. I mean, other than the monster attack.

S'alright. Could be worse. Could be by myself.

When night finally came, I was almost too exhausted to be afraid.

If it didn't get me while I was sleeping last night, it won't get me tonight, right? I reasoned. Besides, dreams never killed anyone.

I listened to my friends talking to each other in the back of my mind. Their voices were a comfort. It made me feel safe enough to let my eyelids droop heavier and heavier, until silence took over.

Chapter Three

I was surrounded by pitch-black. Around me, behind me, above me. There wasn't a single shape in sight. The air had a certain weight to it, like I was trapped beneath an infinite, dark blanket. My skin felt strangely heavy and warm and… fuzzy?

What is this place?

I reached out to feel for walls. Was I trapped somewhere? How did I even get here? The last thing I could remember was listening to Nora and River's voices as I fell asleep.

My body felt odd as I tried to move it. Not bad odd, but definitely not like I'd ever felt it before. I felt bigger and stronger, while my legs bent in a seemingly brand new way—

"Aaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhh!"

The ground had dropped away. My stomach fell out of my body. Down, down, down, faster and farther than I'd ever fallen before. I shot towards the unseen ground like a pebble thrown off a cliff. Invisible wind nipped at my face. Adrenaline squeezed my heart. Beneath the shock and the panic, I came to the awful realization that a fall from this height would kill me.

Thud.

I gasped for breath, the wind knocked out of my lungs. The shock of the sudden impact rattled throughout my bones.

I'm dead. I'm totally dead.

Nothing happened. No pain. Even my breathing was returning to normal.

That was… odd. Not that I particularly wanted all of my bones shattered.

To my massive relief, the strange darkness was gone, replaced by a vast blue sky above me. Save for a few fluffy white stragglers, there wasn't a cloud in sight.

I scrambled to my feet, taking in my surroundings.

I'd landed in the grass on the edge of a dirt road. To my right was a large cornfield with a single scarecrow standing in the middle. A tiny, unkempt-looking farmhouse with red shingles stood at the far end, before the crop gave way to a towering forest of dark green pines. Vast grey mountains bordered the horizon in every direction.

None of it looked like it should.

All of it—from the corn to the mountains to the shack—had a strange, flat, bright quality to it, like I'd stepped directly into a drawing. I shook my head to clear the strange effect, but nothing changed.

Weird.

To my left—across the road—was a broken-down windmill that looked as though it hadn't been touched in years. It smelled strongly of rats.

Wait. Smelled? Since when could I ever smell that well?

I sniffed the air again and gasped at the assault on my senses. I could smell everything.

Horse.

Smoke.

Grass.

Mud.

It was dizzying. Every single breath brought me something new, until I was practically feverish from the influx of information. It was the most overwhelming thing I'd ever experienced.

It wasn't just my nose, either. I could hear the birds chattering away in the forest on the other side of the cornfield with sharp clarity, despite not even being within shouting range. I could even hear the faint skitter-scratch of the insects questing bravely through the grass.

What's happening to me?

I raised my hands to my face and promptly yelped so loud I hurt my own too-sensitive ears.

My arms, once so fleshy and pale, were now covered in shiny black fur that stretched all the way to my elbows before giving way to a fierce bright orange colour. My hands had taken on a strange appearance halfway between a paw and a human hand—my fingers were stubby, but clearly still dexterous enough to grab and handle things. They ended with deadly-looking hooked claws sprouting from the tips. My palms and fingertips were covered by thick black pads.

All I could do was stare.

I became rapidly aware of all the new sensations from my body. Signals from limbs that I'd always known should have been there but never were. My legs were bent into a tiptoe shape, and a long, indescribably fluffy white-tipped tail extended from the base of my spine.

Mirror. I need a mirror!

I frantically spun around at least three times before noticing the stagnant water in the ditch beside the road. It wasn't perfect, but I barely cared.

I scrambled down the muddy bank, hardly noticing when the rocks beneath my feet—no, paws, I thought with a giddy rush of joy—shifted and nearly sent me sprawling. Finally reaching the bottom without incident, I peered into the stinking water.

A wide-eyed face so unlike my own, yet so much more mine than it had ever been, stared back at me. A creature with fluffy orange-and-white fur, two massively pointy ears, and a narrow snout with a wet black nose blinked up at me in awe.

A fox. A red fox, specifically. The creature I'd always known I was, yet never dared to dream I could actually become. I was a fox. A strangely large one that walked on two legs, maybe, but a fox nonetheless.

I knew I was dreaming by then. I had to be. There was no way, no universe, in which something this wonderful could possibly happen to me. I was not the kind of person who deserved miracles.

And yet, here I was, staring down at a face that finally belonged to me.

A laugh escaped from my chest. If this was a dream, it was the best one I'd ever had. I definitely wasn't going to waste it.

Overjoyed energy flooded my limbs as I dropped to all four paws and cleared the ditch in one leap. Rough corn leaves scraped my snout as I bolted through the farm. I didn't feel it. I was freer than I ever had been in my entire life.

In this one shining moment, all my fears and doubts and regrets would never find me.

The way my muscles ached was glorious. It was an ache that said you're strong. You're free. You're wild. I leapt for the fun of it, delighted to see a flash of blue sky as I cleared the corn.

Plants blurred around me, faster and faster and faster, until I was panting for breath and my tongue was hanging out of my snout. I blasted past the scarecrow, nearly knocking his hat off. I barely had time to register my paws hitting dirt and the tree trunks zooming past me before—

Wham!

My mad dash ended abruptly as I slammed snout-first into something solid. My renegade momentum sent me careening sideways into a dangerously prickly bush. Pain stabbed through my left palm as something sharp and hard scraped away the skin. The harsh thorns failed to penetrate my thick fur, but they clung to it like hooks and refused to let go. The more I struggled, the more stuck I became. Within seconds, I was completely trapped.

I wasn't going anywhere.

"Whoa, geez! Where'd you come from?" A voice that felt hauntingly familiar broke through my struggle. A pair of eyes peered curiously down at me. The branches were too thick to make out the owner's features.

"What happened?" A second face joined my observer.

"Just ran right into me. I'm worried I hurt them." She sounded completely unoffended for someone who'd nearly been bowled over by a total stranger. My face burned with shame.

Five minutes in this strange dream, and I'd already managed to hurt someone. I wanted to apologize, but my mouth was full of leaves.

"Can you get them out?"

"I think so."

A gloved hand reached into the bush and grabbed my paw. Twigs scraped at my flesh as the stranger pulled me free from my thorny captor. Several clumps of fiery orange fur were left behind. I stumbled, and would have fallen forward into the dirt, but strong hands held me steady until I regained my balance.

"Thanks," I said, spitting out foliage. "I'm sorry I—"

I froze.

My first rescuer—the one I'd slammed into—was a fierce-looking girl with brown skin who was only slightly taller than me. Her fingerless gloves, black rock band T-shirt, sheathed sword, and bar piercing in one ear gave her a distinctly threatening air. Despite this, her eyes were kind. She had the kind of expression that disarmed you immediately and made you want to trust her.

Her friend was—like me—a large, bipedal fox, though her fur was different. She was grey all over save for her ears, tail tip, and back paws, which were white and black respectively. Her eyes were a startling violet colour, with light blue fur streaked down beneath them like permanent tears.

A yellow tag like the ones I had seen on cattle was punched through her left ear with the number 452 printed on it. She had a quiet, thoughtful nervousness about her. Her head tilted curiously as she studied me.

Happiness rippled through my fur. I knew these people. They were the most familiar faces in my life—the very same ones I'd spent the last year thinking about nonstop. I probably should've said something to them, but my voice had apparently decided to stay behind in the bush.

I'd never had a dream like this before. Right then, I never wanted to wake up.

Nora squinted at me and crossed her arms. Stray leaves still clung to her heather-grey hoodie. "Hold on. Who are you? I thought I knew everyone around here. Riv, am I forgetting someone?"

River shook her head slowly, never taking her eyes off me. "I've never seen them before in my life. Maybe they're a new guardian."

Nora circled me. "New guardian, huh? They don't seem to have a mirror."

"Perhaps they dropped it?"

I, meanwhile, was trying very hard not to pass out.

"It's—it's you," I choked out. "It's really, actually, you." I could feel my fur puffing up in awe and no amount of self-control could stop it.

River studied me closer. "I know that voice. You sound familiar." Her eyes widened. "Starheart?"

Nora stopped pacing. "No way. Starheart couldn't be—"

My knees felt weak. How did they know my name? "It's me."

She froze. "Oh, man. You are not supposed to be here."

"Where even is here?" The landscape wasn't from any T.V show I knew.

Nora and River exchanged glances. A long, unreadable expression passed between them. After an agonizingly long moment, Nora turned back to me.

"Welcome to Fable's Reach, buddy. We… have a lot of explaining to do."

***

"Hold still," River whispered, peering cautiously through the treeline at a man passing by.

"I still don't understand why we're hiding," Nora complained. "They're gonna notice her eventually."

"I want a chance to figure this out ourselves first, before they start asking us questions." The man passed by and River continued on, weaving through the trees that skirted the cornfield.

I trotted after her, heart still soaring. River was here, in front of me, speaking and moving and living like it was normal. The Nora Valdez was watching me and talking to me and complaining about things.

Their T.V shows weren't related, but they seemed to know each other quite well. I still wasn't sure how they knew me. Dream logic, probably.

It got me thinking. This wasn't like any other dream I'd had before. It all felt so completely real. The scratch on my paw actually hurt.

The environment didn't shift when I looked away. Even the fact that I was still here was odd. Usually, I woke up the second I realized I was dreaming.

For all my attempts to achieve a proper lucid dream, I could never hold onto one.

"What is this place?" I tried to sound casual and failed miserably. My voice was high-pitched with excitement.

Everything came out fast. "How do you know me? Are other characters here, or just you? What did you say this place was called again?

Did you—" I stopped as my tail began wagging frantically. "Well. That's new."

Nora shot me an amused look. "I almost forgot how weird it is at first. You get used to all this."

My wet black nose twitched. "I can't believe all this is here!"

It felt easier to me to play along. To pretend it was all true. If it was going to end when I woke up anyway, there wasn't any harm in enjoying it, right?

We hit a dirt path snaking through the trees and began to follow it. River stopped every few minutes to sniff at the air, before continuing on. She seemed so sure of what she was doing. My own nose was still being bombarded with endless detail, but I couldn't make sense of any of it. It was too overwhelming. How does she do that?

"Honestly, I didn't think you thought we were real," Nora said. "Nobody ever does."

"Nobody?" I echoed.

River dropped back to walk next to me. "You're not the only person with character guardians, Starheart."

"Guardians?"

"Better tell her," Nora advised. "Before her brain explodes."

River nodded, a distant look falling over her face. "Lots of people feel deep connections to fictional characters. But a very, very select few form a bond with them like no other. A bond that, by itself, could shape the course of their life.

Nobody is entirely sure how it happens, but something about the strength of that connection is enough to bring us here. By night we watch over our spiritbond—that's you—and by day, we live our own lives. We observe you, and guide you as best as we can. After all, there's nobody in the world you'd listen to quite like us."

"Wait, so—I'm not the only one who's like this?"

River's eyes glittered. "There's eight billion people in the world, my friend. I can guarantee you you're not the only one of anything."

Maybe I'm not as alone as I thought I was.

"How many of you are there?"

Nora wrinkled her nose. "Maybe… nine hundred, a thousand? I've never been great at math. But it's somewhere around there."

The trees began thinning out as River took a right when the path forked. Life was everywhere: birds sang in the trees, flowers bloomed among the grass, and there was even a raccoon that skittered away in panic as we approached. Everything was brighter in a cartoon world, I realized. The colours were so much more vibrant than back home. It was like the whole world was smiling. A rush of energy unlike anything I had ever felt flooded through me, and an inhuman whimper-yelp sound escaped my throat. It was a noise I'd never been able to achieve in my human form before, despite all my efforts.

Evidently, I could do that now, too.

Nothing bad can touch me here, I thought blissfully. Nothing could ever hurt me like this. My favourite characters had always shielded my mind from the worst of the world—when things got bad, I could tune out reality and escape. They made me feel safer than anyone else ever had.

Now that I was here with them? I was invincible.

The trees ended abruptly as we emerged into a break from the forest, but the path continued on, joining a larger one. Trees still bordered us from all sides, but there were several meters of grass between us and them. To the right, the path joined back up with a larger road at the edge of the woods. To the left—in the shadow of the mountains looming closer than ever—was a clearing. A dark shape stood in it, still half obscured by branches.

I tilted my head. "What's over there?"

River blinked at me calmly, a small smile gracing her snout. "Home."

Home? I trotted ahead.

The clearing was home to a two-story cabin. One that, despite being completely out of place compared to where I was used to seeing it, was strikingly familiar. The bare, unpainted logs and slightly crooked doorframe fit a very special place in my heart.

It was Nora's cabin. The very same one she'd lived in throughout the entire three-season run of Dragon's Call. It looked like it had been yanked right out of the show and dropped in the meadow.

I squeaked excitedly and raced a few paces forward. "Oh my gosh! It's even cooler than it was on T.V! Is there still a whole training area out back?" I tugged on the doorknob and yelped when it groaned and refused to open. "The door is busted and everything! This is the best day of my life!"

"Man," Nora said. "I think she knows more about me than I do." She stepped past me—I was still wriggling excitedly in the doorframe—and kicked the door with one foot. "Here," she said proudly. "Just gotta show the stupid thing who's boss."

It slammed open against the wall. River flinched at the noise. Nora shot her an apologetic look. "Too loud? Sorry."

I entered slowly, enjoying the gentle click click click of my claws against the wooden floorboards. To the right of the entryway was a cozy-looking library with a squashy old couch, a plush rug, and hundreds upon hundreds of books covering every wall. To the left was a kitchen. It was largely untouched save for a single dirty old plate sitting on an island surrounded by stools. The fridge was covered in dozens of notes and drawings: a bunch of impressively high-quality sketches of trees, sunsets, mountains, and people; several drawings that were noticeably lower quality and appeared to have been drawn by someone trying to imitate the first artist; and more than one concerningly underspecific note with messages like Remember!! Don't you dare forget, Do that thing Sunday eight P.M sharp, and Do not trust the mango man.

Directly ahead of me was a hallway leading to the back of the house—a small window gave an impressive view of the woods behind the building. To the right of the window, I knew there was a staircase that led to more rooms on the upper floor, though I couldn't get a good look from where I was.

I stood there, breathing and taking in the sight of the familiar place. Every nook and cranny was as homey as my own fur, but I'd never seen it quite this alive before. It was glorious.

River brushed past me into the library. She sniffed around the shelves and began pulling down books in no particular order, the stack in her arms quickly growing so tall she couldn't see over it.

Nora stopped to punch me affectionately in the shoulder before trotting over to save River from her growing stack of books. I trailed after her like a lost puppy.

"Can you reach that book on the top shelf for me? A Historical Account of Conflicts In Fable's Reach?" River asked Nora. "My legs aren't long enough."

Nora obliged, stretching up on her tiptoes to retrieve it. "Y'know, we really need a ladder in here."

"Um, hey," I interrupted. They both turned to look at me, and my heart gave a little jump. I don't think I'll ever get used to that. "What exactly are we looking for?"

River set her enormous pile down on the floor and began flipping through them one by one. "Anything that'll tell us how and why you're here. I might have heard a similar story before, but I can't remember…" She wrinkled her snout. "It may take some time."

Nora watched her. "Can I help at all? What are we looking for?"

"It's more of a one-person job, I think. Maybe you could fix up Starheart's paw. It's still bleeding."

It was? As if on cue, my paw began stinging. Sure enough, there was a gnarly-looking scrape on my left pad, with blood oozing out. I must've forgotten in all the confusion.

"Yikes," Nora said sympathetically. "That looks like it hurts. C'mere, I can fix it." She waved me over to a small side table next to the couch.

She pulled open the drawer and sifted through a pile of strange odds and ends before grabbing a small box of adhesive bandages. It looked like the ones my parents kept stocked under the bathroom sink. I watched as she took my paw and began affixing the bandages to my cut. She was surprisingly gentle for someone I'd personally witnessed breaking a man's nose with her bare hands.

I held as still as I could. "Is it really so odd that I'm here?"

Nora didn't look up. "I mean, as far as I know, no spiritbond has ever shown up here before. I didn't think it was possible. Something's gotta be up, if you're here now."

"I don't think it's such a bad thing," I ventured. "It seems wonderful here. I wouldn't mind staying a while."

That made Nora look up. "Don't you want to go home?"

"Compared to here? Not really." There was nothing good waiting for me in the waking world.

"You don't even know this place." She didn't sound upset. Only curious. She finished putting on the last bandage and stuffed the box carelessly back into the drawer.

"I know you. And you guys have always understood me better than anyone in my world." I sniffed at my paw. It smelled like blood, but it was fainter than it was before.

Nora smiled at me. "Well, for the record, I'm pretty glad you're here too."

I smiled back and felt my tail begin to wag.

A loud Roar! split the air and I nearly jumped out of my fur.

"What was that?" I cried. My rapid heartbeat only began to slow for a second before another bout of furious snarling sent it thump thump thumping into overdrive.

Nora was calm. "Sounds like Seafern's finally back."

My jaw dropped. "Hold on. No way. Seafern is here too?"

"You bet they are. I'd never go anywhere without them." A slow grin spread across Nora's face. "How'd you like to meet a dragon?"

Chapter Four

The backyard was a vast, grassy space dotted with the occasional straw training dummy and bordered by trees on all sides. In the back right corner, a small wooden shed held shut by a chipped broom handle stood patiently. In the back left corner was what looked like an enormous wooden stable with only three walls. It seemed like one a horse would enjoy, but it was far, far too large for even the tallest of equines.

It was, however, the perfect size for a dragon. Which would be useful if there was even a single dragon in sight.

I twitched an ear. "So… where exactly

The ground shook as though the earth itself was collapsing. The sky filled with dust, blotting out the sun. A growl so deep that I could feel it in my chest permeated the air. All the fur on my neck stood straight up.

The dust settled to reveal a mountain of sea green scales at least three times taller than I was. Shaking out the mane of thick, regal fur that ran along the back of their neck, Seafern snorted down at me with a disapproving glare. Their swept-back horns glinted imposingly, sharp enough to skewer a fully grown man.

They looked like they wouldn't hesitate to do so, either. Their enormous, knife-sharp claws gouged deep gashes into the dirt. Their tail whipped back and forth. They had eyes that said don't mess with me when you look so completely edible.

I had seen them on T.V before, of course. But I'd never realized they were this… big.

It was more than a little bit intimidating.

"Go on," Nora said. "You know they don't bite."

Seafern sniffed my head.

"Hello," I said nervously.

A smile spread across their snout. A long, rough tongue like a cat's shot out and licked my face. I squeaked.

"There you go! See? They like you." Nora patted their shoulder. "Buddy. that's Starheart. I told you about her, remember?"

The dragon made a shocked sound and studied me closer. They looked at Nora, confused.

"Yeah, I know, me too. Just go with it."

"What are we doing out here?" River snuck up on me.

"Oh, hey, River." Nora didn't look away from Seafern. "Find anything?"

"I did, actually." There was an excited glimmer in her eyes. "An old legend. A children's tale, really, though I'm now convinced it holds weight."

My ears pricked up. "What is it?"

"There's not much to the story, unfortunately. All I know is that you're not the first spiritbond to arrive here. There's tales of a man—Arwin, I think?—they say something similar happened to him, though they don't say much else. He'd spent his days on earth and his nights here, with his guardians."

Nora paused. "So he wasn't trapped here? That's good, at least. Do you know how he got back?"

"It mentioned a portal of some sort. I suppose we'll have to hunt around for it where she first appeared." River looked over at me. "Do you remember seeing anything like that?"

I didn't, but I had been a little overexcited. I wouldn't put it past me to miss it.

"Well, in the meantime, I was gonna take Starheart out to Balance. May as well show her around."

River nodded thoughtfully. "She should see it."

"Where?" I asked.

"It's the centre of town," Nora said. "Have you ever ridden a dragon before?"

"I've ridden horses," I said. "It can't be that different."

It was very different.

Seafern shot into the sky faster than a bullet train. The vicious wind tore at my pelt, threatening to rip me right back to the ground. The world shrunk below until everyone looked like mites.

Horses didn't go that fast. Horses also didn't breathe massive bursts of flame into the sky, turning the clouds orange and roasting nearby pigeons.

"Starheart, buddy, your claws are in my arm." Nora winced.

"Sorry!"

River peered over my shoulder. "It's not so loud if you flatten your ears."

I was relieved to discover she was right. The ground below was fascinating to look at—it was unlike anything I'd seen back home. From the window of a plane, everything was grey boxes dived by small stripes of green, but here everything here looked like a thousand worlds quilted together.

Massive castles stood next to humble shacks. There were futuristic buildings with flying cars and old huts with horse drawn carriages. All of them pulled straight out of their respective worlds, placed here by some unseen force that maybe nobody understood.

I wondered if any other characters I knew were here. I thought I recognized some of the buildings.

I leaned too far forward. River grabbed the scruff of my neck before I fell.

"Watch out for that," Nora called over the wind. "You'll be falling for a long time before Seafern catches you. Ask me how I know."

A shiver rippled down my spine. There were no words for this feeling. It was something beyond awe. How quickly would this disappear when I woke up? Would the memories of this dream vanish like the moon, leaving me with nothing but vague feelings I couldn't place?

I didn't want to forget this. I didn't want to forget them.

The landscape changed up ahead. Where there were colourful, cartoonish shapes like drawings come to life, it was replaced by the dull, three-dimensional figures of the real world. Two other patches of land were next to it in shapes and textures I couldn't identify from this far away. It was like the world had been split into four sections. There was a point up ahead where the four of them seemed to meet. A large market sprawled around it.

"There it is," Nora said. She steered Seafern down towards that point.

"What's over there? Those other places, I mean. Is that the real world?" My eyes were drawn to the distant land that looked most like home.

"Nope. Just where some other guardians live. You can't get to your world from here. I honestly have no idea how you did it."

"The world is divided into different sections," River told me, more informatively. "Based on what type of world we're from. We're Cartoon. The others are Live Action, Claymation, and Puppetry."

"I don't get it," I said. "You're drawings. Someone made you up. This shouldn't be possible."

We touched down surprisingly lightly in the middle of a square. The four sections met in the centre at a large fountain. The water was all different textures.

"We came first." Nora turned to look at me for the first time since we took off. "Those people that 'made us up'? They're just telling the stories of places and people who were always real."

"There's a million universes next to your own," River said. "Anything you can dream up is real somewhere out there. Sometimes the threads of our lives leak through and reach someone's mind, I suppose. That's how stories happen. There's likely a world out there where someone's writing a story about you."

A day ago, I would've insisted my life wasn't interesting enough for that. Now I had to wonder.

Nora jumped down, followed closely by River. I hesitated. Even when we weren't flying, the dragon's back was very high off the ground.

"Just jump!" Nora called. "It's easy!"

Very helpful.

After another moment of wavering, I leapt. I didn't quite stick the landing, though, and ended up crumping into an ungraceful heap on the packed dirt. Seafern rumbled in a way that sounded an awful lot like laughter.

Shaking the dust from my fur, I looked around the square. Directly across from us—on the Live Action side—was a huge, fancy wooden building with several domes, towers, and spires. It looked like a place where kings would meet.

The air smelled like fried dough and honey from the nearby market. The fountain—divided into the four different media types—filled the air with the pleasant background sound of rushing water. There were people around, though the square wasn't overly crowded.

Groups of friends loitered near the fountain. A father handed his teeny tiny daughter something from his bag. A few people stopped to look at Seafern, but nobody seemed surprised to see a massive hulking dragon. In fact, they seemed more surprised to see me.

"Why's everyone staring at me?" I asked. "Oh, man. I know I'm not human, but—"

"It's not that," Nora said. "They see River all the time. There's loads of nonhumans here. It's because you're new."

River scratched an ear. "Fable's Reach is small enough that everyone knows each other. A new face is a big deal."

"It's amazing," I said, stunned. I started towards the Claymation side, drawn to it. "I want to see all of it."

"Wait!" Nora yanked me back. Fear sparked in her scent.

"What? What's going on?"

She bent down and picked something up off the ground. She held it out to me, and I saw that it was a worm. A little tiny worm in a little tiny fancy hat, who had been sitting right where I'd been about to step. He was Cartoon, like we were, and he blinked up at me with teeny tiny little beady eyes.

"You almost stepped on Mr. Topsoil," she said

"My, my," he said in his little voice. "You'd better watch where you're going, miss. I could've been bird food."

"Oh! I'm so sorry!"

He dipped his hat. "It's quite alright. I shouldn't have strayed so far from my burrow. Not where there's foot traffic from the large ones. I appear to have gotten myself in quite the pickle, haven't I?"

"We'll take you home." Nora set him down in the grass a few steps away. "There you go."

He thanked her and wriggled away down a hole in the dirt.

I stared after him. "I've never talked to a worm before. I didn't think they'd be so polite."

River dragged me by the arm. "Come on! I want to show you something!"

We crossed the border to the Claymation side. The texture of the ground beneath my paws was slimy and cold, but I didn't mind. We'd stepped inside a fantasy within a fantasy. Bright buildings were shaped from a million colours. The people around us moved with sticky, heavy, clay limbs. There were even fewer humans.

We stopped in front of what looked like a candy store. About two hundred small rats dressed up in fancy clothes poured out of the door. I jumped to the side at the last minute.

"Never eat anything in Claymation Capital," River said seriously.

"Why not?"

"Do you enjoy eating clay?"

"Not really."

Someone poked me in the back. I looked down to see a very small tiger—maybe half my height—looking up at me.

"Hello," I said. "What's your name?"

"You're new," he said, not answering my question.

I nodded. "I'm Starheart."

His eyes widened. "I know that name. How are you here? You're a spiritbond."

Nora shrugged. "No idea. Pretty cool, though, right? I think we're gonna keep her."

The tiger gave me a big, toothy smile. "Welcome. I hope you survive all the monsters."

"Monsters?" I cried as he stalked away. "We get to fight monsters?"

"Only sometimes." Nora shielded her face from the sun. "Oh, no. Hide."

She quickly shooed us back towards the border. I kept trying to peer behind us, but she was blocking my view of whatever we were running from.

"What is it?" I asked.

"Ugh. My worst nightmare."

"Why, hello there!" A man with a pipe and a funny hat jumped in front of us. He wore a long trenchcoat, as if he were a detective. His hat had the number two written on it.

Nora grumbled something unintelligible.

"Well, now, there's no need to be dour, lass!" He gave her a triumphant look. "Not while there's a mystery afoot."

"There's a mystery?" I asked. "Can I help? Who are you?"

"I am Sherlock Holmes," he said, taking a drag off his pipe. "And the mystery, my dear, is you."

He reached out to poke one of my ears. Nora swatted his hand away.

Unfazed, he walked a slow circle around me. "Perhaps it's a clever illusion."

A second, slightly shorter Sherlock popped out of the alley across from us. This one had a number five written on his hat. "Or some elaborate prank by the local youths. Since when does a spiritbond show up here? It's a mystery indeed."

Three more burst out of a nearby shop. "We heard the sounds of a mystery afoot!"

"How many of these guys are there?" I asked nervously.

"Too many," Nora complained.

"He's a very popular character," River said.

I blinked down at her. "So… two people can bond with the same character? There's duplicates of people running around? Do you guys have clones?'

"It happens sometimes, but it's pretty rare. Never happened to us. We're the one and only," Nora said with a hint of pride. "Most of these dorks are from different shows, anyway."

"I beg your pardon!" one of the detectives cried. "I am one of the most brilliant minds in the world!"

"Oh, please." Sherlock Number Two scoffed. "Everyone knows you botched the case last week. You're an embarrassment. I am the most brilliant mind in the world."

Nora shook her head. "Didn't you guys hear? There was a murder on the other side of town. I bet they could use some brilliant minds, you know?"

All five gasped in a nearly identical manner. They sprinted away, pushing and shoving each other to get ahead.

"Mine! The case is mine!"

"Give me back my hat, you great buffoon!"

"Murder!"

Nora grinned at me. "Heh. See? That's how you deal with them. They're like seagulls. You gotta toss them a few fries to make them go away."

River tugged at her sleeve. "Nora, the last time you fed the seagulls they swarmed us and took my hashbrown."

"Oh. Right. Okay, yeah, lets get out of here."

We cut through a gap between two buildings and ended up on the Puppet side. My claws kept getting snagged on the ground. Everything smelled like wool and hot glue. Ever since I'd gotten here, everything had been a gigantic mess of scents. I thought my nose would be easier to use than this. It just seemed to make everything louder.

River sniffed the air next to me. "Oh, wow. Jerico was here. I wonder if we'll see him."

"How do you do that?" I asked. "Figure out the smells, I mean. It's chaotic."

"It's a matter of practice," she said. "You get better over time. Do you want to hear a trick?"

I nodded.

"Overthinking it makes it harder. Your snout knows what to do. Clear your head, close your eyes, and let it tell you what's happening, not the other way around."

Shutting my eyes and ignoring my ears, I let the scents flow back into my nose in a wave of information. I'd never stop marvelling at how much was there. It was an entirely new side of the world the human mind was deprived of. When I woke up, I was going to feel blind.

Shut your brain off. Your snout knows what to do.

It was telling me there was something tasty a few streets over. Something meaty, small, and dead. Maybe a squirrel? It was warning me of danger—the smell of some canine was nearby, larger than a fox and wilder than a dog. A wolf, most likely.

It told me that beneath the smell of fabric and fuzz, each of the puppet guardians had their own unique aroma, like we did. River smelled wild and earthy. Nora smelled like flowers and cinnamon.

"What can you tell me," River asked, "That your eyes could not have known?"

I picked up an underlying trace of something more temporary beneath Nora's scent. It was sweet and warm, and there were definitely apples involved. I followed it until my big wet nose was sniffing up close to her face.

"Uh. Hi." She stared at me nervously. "What are you doing?"

"Did you have pie for breakfast?" I asked.

Her eyes widened. "Dude. How? I wish I could do that."

"Nora, that is not a balanced meal," River scolded gently. She turned to me. "You're quite good at this. It took me ages to figure it out."

I wagged my tail. "I have a good teacher."

A loud scream rang out. The three of us froze.

"What was that?" Nora asked. "Is the dirt monster back? I hate that guy."

"The ground isn't shaking," River said. "I don't think so."

Another scream. This time we took off towards it, running back towards Balance. River and I ran on all fours. Nora, with her comparatively slow two-legged gate, lagged behind. We held back to keep from losing her in the gathering crowd.

"Help! He's going to drown!"

The crowd seemed to be gathering around the fountain. We pushed our way through to the front, dodging horns, wings, and claws. River had a much easier time with her smaller size.

I kept almost stepping on some of the littler guardians, which they weren't happy about. I apologized profusely.

There was a small girl standing next to the fountain. She was pointing to the very top where the water pooled before spilling over with a terrified look on her face.

"What's happening?" I asked her. "Is someone hurt?"

She gripped my arm painfully hard. "Skitters flew up there! He can't swim! He's going to drown!"

I looked over to River for an explanation.

"That's one of the bugs!" she exclaimed, horrified. "Oh, poor guy!"

Without thinking, I jumped into the fountain. The crowd gasped. Someone yelled at me to be careful.

We were still on the Puppet side. It was unsettling watching my paws slip through the seemingly solid surface of the fuzzy, felty water. It was only up to my knees, but it would definitely be a death sentence for a poor little bug.

I hooked my paws over the upper lip of the top basin of the fountain. Water was sloshing right into my eyes. My claws, I discovered, were fantastic at gripping the rough stone. My back feet were having more trouble.

It was a steep overhang, and I'd never been able to master those when I went rock climbing. My tail lashed back and forth as I fought to hold on. My paws began to slip.

Something stopped me. Nora had waded after me and was trying to help push me up. River joined her. Together they gave me one mighty shove, and I scrabbled over the edge.

It was nearly impossible to see. Water was squirting up from the middle of the fountain in all different shades and textures, most of which splashed into my eyes and blinded me. I shook my fur out and squinted through the damp.

There! A small dark shape floating around, pushed by the currents. My paws swooped down and scooped up the little beetle as quickly as I could. Exhausted by the ordeal but alive, he lay there with his wings unfolded.

"You're okay now," I said. "I've got you."

"Thank you," he coughed out weakly.

I wasn't exactly sure how to get down. Everyone was looking at me in awe, but nobody seemed to have brought a ladder.

I decided to jump. The resulting splash soaked everyone in sight. I stepped out the fountain, shaking the water from my soggy fur. The girl who'd screamed took the beetle from me, wrapping him in a very small towel to keep him warm.

"Will he be okay?" I asked anxiously.

"He'll be fine. He just needs to rest. Isn't that right, Skitters?"

The bug nodded weakly. His antennae were droopy.

"Well, well, well," Nora said teasingly. "Looks like someone's getting all heroic on us."

River nosed me. "Your actions were brave and admirable. Nobody will forget them."

I ducked my head sheepishly. "It's really not much. I like climbing things."

"You still saved someone." River's face was full of admiration.

I had to look away. The wrongness of it made my fur prickle.

***

The rest of the day was a blur of colours and joy. I met creatures that shouldn't exist—people the size of mice and rodents the size of cars. I actually did know some of the guardians, as it turned out—a few of them were from shows and movies I had seen, though nobody but Nora and River were there for me. Everywhere we went there were bursts of magic—plumes of flame and living mist that spoke in ancient riddles.

River showed me more ways to control my new senses, until I was almost as good at it as she was. I tracked Nora down from three streets away, staying light enough on my paws that I scared her to death when I pounced on her from behind.

"Oh, you're gonna be such a menace, aren't you?" she groaned. "This is too much power for one person."

I growled playfully.

Every new person we met seemed happy to meet me, though they were all as confused as we were as to how and why I'd arrived. A lot of them wanted to know if they could bring their spiritbonds here, too. One tried to eat me. River promised it wasn't personal.

"Trust me, man," Nora said after the twentieth introduction. "News travels fast here. By tomorrow, everyone's already gonna know who you are."

By the time the sun started to set, my paws were heavier than lead and my long tongue was hanging out of my mouth. It was the kind of exhaustion that was tinged with deep contentment. The kind only felt after the best of days. I wouldn't have ever tried to leave, if River hadn't gently reminded me it was time.

I described to them where I'd appeared, with the old windmill and the cornfield. They lead me down a few twisting dirt roads and a path through the woods before coming out on a familiar street. I scanned the area, my eyes finally falling on a faint glow hidden next to the windmill. It was oval shaped and big enough around to fit two of me. I really had missed it in all my excitement.

My paws seemed frozen to the ground. The gentle hum of the light blue tear in the world felt tragic.

"It's nearly morning where you are," River said. Her ear flicked away a buzzing mosquito. "It's time to go."

I looked down at my paws, with their shiny black fur and long, curved claws. I couldn't give them up, could I? This was what I was meant to look like. This was who I was meant to be with.

"I can't," I said sadly. "This is the greatest dream I've ever had. I don't know how I can go back to normal after this." My tail drooped low, the white tip brushing the reddish dirt.

"As beautiful as some dreams are, morning comes for us all." I watched the reflection of the portal in River's eyes. "We'll see you again, I'm certain. If not, you'll hold us in your mind."

"You really don't believe us, do you?" Nora didn't sound upset. "That's fine. We'll still be here."

I took them in one last time. River's soft, grey fur that reminded me of distant, stormy clouds. The warmth that always radiated from Nora's eyes. The way they seemed to fit together perfectly, despite being from separate worlds.

They belonged together. I wished I could belong with them, too.

"I'll miss you," I said. "More than I can say. I hope you know how much you mean to the world. To… me."

"I know. We both do," Nora said. "Don't forget us, huh? Maybe we'll see you again soon."

I turned away, facing the portal head on. "You're the last thing I'd ever forget."

Gathering my courage, I stepped through.

I thought it would've been bright. The light from the portal in Fable's Reach had almost been bright enough to hurt my eyes. The second I touched it, however, there was only darkness. Warm, vast, infinite darkness that spoke to me about nowhere. About nothing.

Then it lifted, and I could feel my body again. Not my fox body—my true body—but my human one, tucked beneath blankets in the same place I'd been when I fell asleep. I had no tail. Barely any smells reached my short nose.

A dream. That's all it was.

I stretched, my bones popping. My chest ached, my mood at odds with the dusty light streaming through the window. The lump in my throat reminded me of who I really was.

The worst dreams, I'd found, were not the ones full of demons and monsters. They weren't the ones where your family died and your friends left you behind. Those were bad, of course, but they didn't hold a candle to the dreams where everything in the world was right.

Where everything you'd ever dreamed of came true, and all your pain vanished like clouds on a summer day. The ones that left you laying in your bed with an ache so fierce you couldn't breathe right.

I'd rather have a nightmare.

It seemed so real to me when I was there. I couldn't remember ever having a dream like it. Usually, they were blurry and hard to hold onto. They slipped through my paws like that frog I tried to catch at the lake.

I could remember it all. The feel of the dirt roads beneath my paws. The lingering damp from the fountain that stayed in my fur all night. The way River's fur felt brushing against my own.

I checked the clock. My heart jumped. Late. Very, very late.

After a brief battle with my blanket where it tangled up my feet and threw me to the floor, I made it to the door. I reached out, grabbed the knob, and—

Jumped back with a yelp. It hurt. My hand stung like crazy when it touched the metal. The residual ache I thought I'd been imagining doubled.

What?

Slowly, I lifted my palm.

There was a long, red scrape across it.

Chapter Five

There's no way, I said for what must have been the five hundredth time. I kept staring incredulously at the massive scrape on my hand, my mind racing, trying to find any other answer. Every time I found one, the wound started stinging again. It was hard not to feel like it was trying to talk to me.

I'd never wanted anything to be true more than this. It simply didn't seem possible. Maybe I'd scraped my hand in my sleep.

But then, why didn't I wake up?

Why had the dream felt so real?

I tried forcing my friends to speak. If they were imaginary, I'd be able to control them. I'd be able to make their voices say whatever I wanted.

I couldn't.

Eventually, Mom had to shout at me to get moving before I missed my bus. I'd arrived at school—barely—knowing that there wasn't the faintest hope of learning anything. I spent the entire day staring intently at my desk, trying not to scream.

Things like this don't happen to people like me, I thought. I'm not the kind of person who deserves miracles.

Apparently, nobody had ever told whoever was in charge of miracles that, and I'd been sent one anyway.

Dude, we talk every day, Nora said. Why is this such a surprise?

I didn't think that was real! I dropped my pencil off my desk.

What, you thought you imagined it all? We've been talking to you for, like, a year, man. I've spoken Spanish to you before. Do you really think your brain could make up a language?

I almost fell off my chair getting my pencil back. Still seems more likely than 'there's a girl in my head and she whispers to me from another dimension!'

Two girls, River corrected. And we're not exactly 'in your head'. More 'communicating with your head through magic'.

Yeah. Like that made more sense. Not that I was complaining.

The hand doesn't lie, dude. Nora's voice was remarkably patient for someone who'd spent the last four hours trying to convince me she was real. That wasn't there before you went to bed. You know what you saw.

But I don't know what I saw, I argued. All of this is so… impossible. It's too good to be true. Like, it's got me thinking there's a pretty big chance I've finally snapped. Just saying.

River's voice was hushed. Do you want it to be true?

More than anything.

Then what's the harm in enjoying it? Don't worry about what's conventional or believable. All that matters is how you feel about it.

That was good advice. I let out a shaky breath and smiled nervously. Good. Definitely good. In all honesty? Happier than I've felt in a long time.

Maybe ever. I couldn't remember ever feeling this way. It was like I was taking a full breath for the first time in years.

A heavy fist knocked against my desk, jolting me. The angry, squinting face of my elderly social studies teacher glared down at me. "Isabella. Care to pay attention? Or is there something more interesting than my lesson on your mind?"

Having an actual telepathic conversation with fictional characters from another dimension definitely ranked higher on the interesting scale than the mind-numbingly boring history of Canadian politics, but something told me he wouldn't appreciate that. Instead, I straightened up and gave him my best apologetic look. "Sorry. It won't happen again."

I wouldn't bet on that, Nora commented unhelpfully. River shushed her.

He squinted even harder. I wondered how he could even see me. "Ensure that it doesn't." He swept away in an unnecessarily dramatic fashion.

There was no chance I'd be paying attention to anything at all.

Starheart. Do you remember what I said the other day? About the word 'petrichor'? River asked.

Oh! Yeah! I replied cheerfully. That's the smell of rain, right? Lovely word.

Right. But you didn't know that before I told you. Search it up. If we're real, it'll be correct. If we're not, it'll be a bunch of nonsense. Like Nora said: your brain can't make up real words, she said reasonably.

It was worth a shot, at least. Glancing around furtively, I pulled my phone out and hid it under the desk. My fingers were shaking so much it took me several tries to unlock my phone and type petrichor into the search bar.

Petrichor: Petrichor is defined as the scent of rain on dry soil.

My phone nearly slipped out of my hands as my grip went slack.

River was right.

How else could she have known?

Somehow, some way, through some strange magic, it was real. All of it. I hadn't been dreaming.

I couldn't stop a little excited squeak from escaping me. Several heads turned to look at me, but I didn't care.

I guess that means you believe us now? Nora asked, amused.

I nearly fell off my chair. Yeah, I believe you. My words tumbled out faster than I could think. I felt light and weightless.

My heart crackled with a fiercely uncontainable energy. I wanted to bolt from my desk and run shouting through the halls. Do you think I'll end up back there tonight?

Ooohhh, I really hope so! I don't think I could live if I never got to feel my snout again. This is by far the coolest thing that's ever—

Nora interrupted me. Hey, Star?

What?

Look out—

I looked up a moment too late and was met, once again, with the furious gaze of my teacher. He had his hand held out expectantly.

"Phones," he grumbled, "are not allowed in class."

Sheepishly, I handed it over. He triumphantly locked it up in the phone jail he kept at the front of the room. "You'll get that back at the end of class. Now, for goodness' sake, pay attention!"

Aw, man. I slumped. I've never had my phone taken in class before. I hope he doesn't email my mom.

Sorry, River said ruefully. I should've thought of that.

It's alright, I said. I don't think anything could ruin my mood today! I began humming a cheerful tune under my breath.

The rest of class dragged on. It was the slowest hour I'd ever lived through. I checked the clock constantly, sure that at least thirty minutes had to have passed. It had been only two. It made me want to flip my desk over.

When the bell finally rang, I bolted out of the room so fast I almost ran into the door. And then immediately ran back in when I realized I still had to bail my phone out of jail. By the time I finally reached my locker, my head was buzzing and I was itching to get out of there.

I slammed my locker shut and turned to leave, promptly smacking directly into a massive wall of a human.

I squawked awkwardly and stumbled back into the wall of lockers. A metal bolt pressed into my back.

"Hey, Isa!" Michael flashed me a friendly smile. I tried not to cringe at the sound of my name. Max peered nervously out from behind his hulking form.

"Hi, guys!" I squeezed them both into a big hug. Michael grinned. Max turned red.

The three of us began walking towards the front of the school. I skipped ahead ecstatically, lost in my own thoughts.

They were real. Nora and River—the heroes I'd dreamed so much about—were real, and I'd seen them with my own two eyes. My heart hadn't stopped racing since I woke up. Ecstasy was quickly winning the war with disbelief.

What do I do now? Unlike so many times I'd had that thought, it was anything but hopeless.

"Where are you going so fast?" Michael jogged to catch up with me. Max followed him quietly, staring at his shoes. He hadn't said a word yet.

I hope he's alright, I thought with a flash of concern.

My worries had a difficult time clinging to me, though. I smiled up at Michael. "Sorry! I'm so happy right now it's hard to contain it all."

"Well, that's good. What's got you in such a good mood?"

I hesitated. The truth definitely wasn't an option. "Oh, you know," I said evasively. "Some days are just extra great and you're not sure why."

"Those are my favourite. You seem to have a lot more of them than I do, though. You're always so cheerful. I wish I could be like that." Michael looked wistful.

I shrugged. "I guess I have a lot to be happy about."

A group of boys at the edge of the hallway began nudging each other and pointing at me. I looked away. Their eyes burned into me like hot coals. I knew why they were staring. I hoped they wouldn't bother me.

Before I could react, Michael stepped between me and the boys, glowering at them. They quieted down, but I could still hear them whispering.

"God, what's wrong with her?"

"Kill that thing."

I pretended not to hear them. It was easier that way.

"Maybe you should stay between Max and me." Michael's eyes searched the hallway.

I appreciated him sticking up for me, but some days I almost wished he wouldn't. I found life to be much easier when I followed my own personal school survival rules: Don't make eye contact, walk fast, and whatever you do, don't engage with anyone no matter what they say. That way, I could pretend all the taunts I heard weren't meant for me.

When Michael confronted every person who was awful to me, however, it meant far more conflict than I ever cared to be a part of.

I hated conflict.

Fighting with another person? Disagreeing with them? Having to tell someone they were wrong?

It was my least favourite thing in the world. No matter who they were or what they'd done to me, no matter how justified I was in standing up to them, I'd spend the next few days agonizing over the fear that I might have stepped out of line or hurt them. The only sure way to avoid that guilt was to take what came for me.

I couldn't tell Michael that, though. I might hurt his feelings. I didn't want that. So, I just nodded and thanked him and we continued on our way.

"Did you hear about the Spring Dance coming up?" Michael asked.

I blinked. "There's a dance coming?"

"Yup. Next week. You going?"

I shrugged. "I don't have anyone to go with. The free snacks are always cool, though! Maybe I'll come for those!"

"Orrrr…" Michael drawled. "Maybe the three of us could go. As friends. My buddies and I used to do that all the time in my old school." Michael moved to the city the previous summer, and he still had a tendency to lament about his old friends.

I brightened. I hadn't realized he'd liked me enough for that. The part of me that always doubted his intentions flared up in concern. I shoved it away.

I'm not passing up a chance to have actual real friends for once.

River and Nora flashed through my head again. I did have real friends now. They were just a bit harder to see than most.

"I'd love that," I told Michael happily. Turning to Max—who still hadn't broken his apparent vow of silence—I asked him, "What about you? Does that sound good?"

He hesitated. "Yeah, that sounds cool," he finally said as Michael pushed open the front door of the school and led us outside. He opened his mouth as if to say something but quickly closed it again.

"I… have to go." Max disappeared into the crowd.

I frowned. "What's gotten into him?"

Michael studied me. "You don't know?"

"Know what?"

"Never mind."

I looked at him curiously. His expression was unreadable. I wonder what that's all about.

He had to crane his neck to peer down at me. I wondered how any human being could be quite so big. It was intimidating.

Do you think birds ever smack into him? Nora said out of nowhere.

I fought back a smile. Stop it, you're gonna make me laugh.

I'm serious! When someone's that tall, they're probably confused with a telephone pole all the time!

This time, a snort escaped me. I clamped a hand over my mouth as Michael's nose wrinkled into a bemused expression. "What's so funny?"

"Um. Nothing. I just remembered a joke."

"Oh. Cool."

I gave him another quick hug, said goodbye, and headed off to the bus.

You're kind of a rascal, you know that? I said.

I know, Nora said proudly. It's my best trait.

***

The bust ride home had never felt longer.

I spent the entire trip buzzing with poorly contained energy. My leg was bouncing so hard that the old lady who sat next to me kept giving me disapproving glares. Her frown only deepened when I complimented her scarf.

I didn't mind grumpy old ladies. For once, I didn't even mind all the mocking looks I got from kids my age. What I'd said to River earlier was true: absolutely nothing could spoil my good feelings today. Nothing bad could ever pierce the joy someone feels when every single one of their biggest dreams comes true.

I had only ever wanted two things in my life: one, to become a fox. And two, to truly know and befriend the characters I loved. Both had just been handed to me on a silver platter. I couldn't wait to—

Oh. Maybe not.

Hey, I thought, reaching out with my mind. Can I tell anyone about this? I assume not, right? That's how it usually goes in stories: the protagonist finds some cool new world and has to keep it safe so it's not discovered by bad people. If I had my tail, it would be wagging hard.

You can tell whomever you'd like. River sounded amused. As far as I know, there's no way to get here on purpose. Especially if you're not bonded to any character.

We'd be completely safe. I don't think anyone would ever believe you, though, she added. So perhaps be careful of that.

I fell silent, thinking about that. She was right. This seemed like one of those things that nobody would ever believe unless they'd experienced it themselves. I had experienced it myself, and I still very nearly didn't believe it.

This was yet another addition to the long list of things I'd keep to myself.

The bus hissed to a halt, and I bolted off faster than I thought possible. Pain shot through my shoulder as I clipped a stop sign, but I didn't care. I barely felt it.

Gotta get home!

I threw open the front door and blew past my bewildered mother. I got halfway up the stairs before feeling bad and turning around to give her a proper hello. I bounced from foot to foot impatiently as I answered my mother's probing questions about my day and everything that had happened to me. I responded to every question as kindly and happily as I could muster.

Be as nice as possible. Don't leave any room to make someone feel bad. As excited as I was, I wasn't about to let myself forget the most important rule of all: kindness at any cost.

Finally, I ran up the stairs, taking them two at a time.

Where are we going? River asked as I skidded around the corner into my room.

To bed. I flopped onto the mattress and pulled my blankets up to my chin.

Now? Nora asked incredulously. It's, like, three P.M.

I want to see you again.

I tried to sooth my racing thoughts. I could never fall asleep when I was thinking too hard. It was tough. Every time I let my mind drift away, it circled right back to Fable's Reach.

I thought of River's endless facts.

The kindness on Nora's face as she'd welcomed me.

Seafern's low rumbles when they first inspected me.

Even tiny little Mr. Topsoil.

I could hardly come to terms with the knowledge that there was finally a world where I wouldn't feel out of place. A place with the only people who had ever understood me.

When I was with them, the bad thoughts had a harder time reaching me. They couldn't curl their cruel fingers around my brain and whisper foul truths into my mind. Nora and River were a force that drove the darkness away. Everything felt easier with them around. Lighter. If I could see them again, if I could listen to their voices… then I wouldn't have to fear my own memories. I wouldn't have to worry about remembering all the times that everything had fallen to pieces and I'd—

I sat up abruptly and glanced at the clock.

3 30 P.M. Half an hour of tossing and turning.

I let out a frustrated sigh. This isn't working.

Be patient, friend, River soothed. Your mind and body aren't used to sleeping at this time. Wait until tonight, when you're actually tired. We won't be going anywhere.

I guess not, I said, impatience sparking in my chest. That was at least six hours away.

I'd never been good at waiting for things. The breaks between seasons of Dragon's Call and Wild, back when they'd still been coming out, had been the longest months of my life. Six hours may as well have been an eternity.

As predicted, the rest of the day dragged by. It felt like one long math class. Talking with my friends helped a little, but by the time dinner finally came, I was staring off into space.

I had to go back. It would be unbearable to have such a wonderful glimpse of an incredible world just to have it taken away. This could fix my life.

My sister's harsh voice snapped me out of my thoughts. "Are you even listening?"

"Oh! Sorry. Did you say something?" I wondered why she looked so angry. Then again, she had a resting 'I hate the world' face.

"I asked if you were ever going to take that stupid thing off." Emily gestured at me vaguely. It was obvious enough what she meant.

I pulled my tail closer defensively. "Please leave me alone, Em."

Emily glared at me. "You know you're human, right? Humans don't have tails. Stop being so weird."

I willed her to stop. Don't react. The last thing I would ever want was my sister guessing one of my secrets.

"I know what I am," I said evenly.

"Then take it off."

"I don't want to."

"You're so weird, Isabella. You know this is why you don't have friends, right?" She looked smug.

I cast a desperate look at my parents. Why weren't they saying anything? "You don't have to be so mean all the time!" My sister and I had this argument every week. It would be nice if my parents took my side even once.

To my relief, Mom finally said something. It was, however, fruitless. "Kids, be nice to each other."

"Me be nice?" I cried. "She's the one being awful!"

"She has a point," Mom said. "The tail is not really fair to anyone around you."

Unfair? I thought in disbelief. How is wearing an accessory unfair? It's not even anyone else's business!

Emily smirked. "Plus, it's ugly."

"It wouldn't hurt to at least try to act normal," my mother said with a sigh. "You would get bullied less."

"Why is it my fault I get picked on?" My grip on my fork tightened. "That's on them, not me. I didn't do anything wrong."

Not to them, at least.

"You're making yourself an easy target." She frowned. "I don't understand. It's like you want to get bullied."

Well, that was the craziest thing I'd ever heard. Who would want that?

"I'd probably bully someone like that." Emily snorted. "They're asking for it. Freaks."

Your sister is kind of a jerk, Nora commented.

I didn't answer. I got out of my chair and plodded up the stairs without another word.

Are you alright? River's concerned voice echoed through my skull as I curled up dimly on my bed.

Again, I didn't answer. It didn't feel right lying to her.

Some days, the weight of my identity felt heavier than others. Most days it was fun to me—embracing my wilder instincts, connecting with nature, and loving who I was gave me boosts of joy.

When it came to other people, though? It crushed me sometimes.

I knew I had a human body, and I'd live a human life, and I was okay with that. To me at least, it was enough to just be as I was. Holding it in my mind made me feel more like myself. It had never hurt me.

But the fact that I didn't know a single person who'd be okay with my nonhumanity if I told them did hurt me.

Well. Maybe there's two people, I realized.

I hadn't thought they were real when I'd told them. But they'd never hurt me or gotten upset with me.

Perhaps…

No. They had to only tolerate it, right? Inside, they had to think I was as broken as my sister did.

It was hard not to feel that way myself sometimes.

Finally, I whispered back, Do you think there's something wrong with me?

No. Not at all, River answered immediately.

I picked up my stuffed shark and hugged it close. But I have a human body. I don't feel human. What if I'm just… weird like everyone says?

Sometimes your body and your heart don't match up, River said. There's nothing wrong with that.

You don't think I'm crazy?

Nora broke in. 'Normal' is a made-up concept. Who's really 'normal' anyway? Not me. Not River. And yeah, maybe not you. But guess what? 'Normal' never once changed the world.

I buried my face in my shark. I don't think the world is ready for therians. Or for me.

If there's one thing I've learned, she continued, it's that there's always gonna be people who love you for who you really are. You just need to hang on long enough to meet them. Her voice was heavy with meaning and distant with memory. It made me wonder what she was thinking.

I like that. I yawned. My eyelids were becoming heavy.

Don't listen to the cruel people, Starheart. River sounded far away. They don't know you. They don't want to know you. And someone who refuses to know you does not get to tell you who you are.

As I drifted farther and farther away from the waking world, I couldn't help but think I'd already found my people.

***

I stumbled out into a world of sensations.

I was instantly bombarded by the chirping of birds and the scent of rotting leaves. My sharp ears pricked and my tail twitched at the base of my spine. Trees towered around me. A glowing blue portal floated quietly nearby.

I was back.

"Ha Ha! I cried, startling a robin into flight. Yes! this is Incredible! I zoomed around in a few hyper circles. It wasn't a one-time thing!

I stopped and relished in the feeling of the gentle breeze blowing through my fur as I breethd deeply. I'd felt so blind with my poor human nose. Being back in my fox body was like opening my eyes again.

A gentle scritch-scratch made one of my pointy black ears twitch. I followed the sound to a nearby branch where a large midnight coloured raven was watching me with a strange intensity. It didn't blink.

"Hello there!" I called to it, half expecting it to fly away like the robin did. It didn't twitch.

"Do you know where we are?" I asked. Part of me hoped that it could talk like some of the other animals I met yesterday. Perhaps it could give me directions. I didn't recognize this part of the woods, and I couldn't hear my friends anywhere.

It cawed and flapped its wings.

Okay, maybe not.

I leaned against a tree and thought for a moment. I was hesitant to pick a direction and walk—that seemed like a good way to get lost in the mountains and die. That was the one thing experts always say not to do on T.V-if you're lost, stay put.

On the other paw, the people who got lost on T.V didn't have the sheer survival capabilities of a fox.

Closing my eyes, I drew upon the advice River had given me the day before:

Don't think. Trust your instincts. Let your senses tell you what you need to know.

I listened. I could hear the background chirping of birds, the shuffling of the raven still on the branch, and the gentle footsteps of a mother doe and her fawn deeper in the woods. Nothing that could tell me how to get to the cabin.

I sniffed the air. Deer. Birds. Plants. Mud. Snake. The smell of nature flooded my nose. I could even smell the damp odor of worms beneath the soil.

Nothing useful—

Wait.

Something new hit my snout. It was similar to a snake—sun-warmed, scaly, and reptilian—but there was something unique about it. It had a tang of fire and ash and the distinctly threatening air of a large predator.

Dragon, I realized. It was the scent of a dragon.

I didn't know if any dragons besides Seafern lived in Fable's Reach, but I figured it was my best shot.

The scent trail was faint and hung in the air. That made sense—the trees here were too dense for an animal that big to have walked. They would have flown above the canopy.

Which direction, though? Which way had they flown? I hesitated.

Only one way to find out.

I picked a direction and, to my relief, the trail grew stronger. As I trotted along, the trees thinned out and with no time at all I was stumbling out onto a dirt road. I hadn't been stuck very deep—I could see my portal glowing faintly from within the woods.

I did it! I used my fox senses! I shook out my fur proudly.

I recognized where I was now. It was the same road we'd taken into Balance the day before. It was a short walk to the cabin from here.

Upon shoving open the useless door (and getting an unfortunate number of splinters in my poor wounded paw), I was met with the sight of my friends waiting for me in the living room.

River was curled up on the rug, surrounded by at least five stacks of books. She was completely engrossed in another in her paws and didn't look up. Nora was sprawled on the couch carelessly, watching River with a faintly bored expression. Her eyes were distant and blank as though she were thinking of something far away.

They lit up when I walked in. I felt my tail wag.

She looks so happy to see me!

"Heck yeah! I told you she'd be back!" Nora cried.

River glanced up. A smile spread across her snout. "Hello."

It was a lot harder to pick up on someone's little habits and mannerisms when they were behind a screen. A person was so much more alive when they were standing directly in front of you. I wasn't used to having physical, real-life friends, and it was almost startling how much easier it was to know someone when you could see their face and actually speak with them.

River, as I had already begun to notice, had a nervous way of interacting with the world. She seemed to avoid eye contact at all costs, instead opting to study the floor or the walls or her own paws with unnaturally intense interest. Even now, as she said hello to me, she was watching a small fly buzz across the room.

Nora, on the other hand, always radiated intense brazen confidence wherever she went. She spoke a little bit louder and faster than necessary, and she never seemed able to sit still. I was already used to seeing her bouncing a leg, scratching at her arms, or picking at her sleeve.

Their smells told me a lot as well. The distinct scent pattern that belonged to each person wasn't static. It was an ever-changing, always shifting ocean of chemicals that changed based on what someone ate, how they felt, and whether or not they were in pain. I was starting to pick up on what the minute changes coming from them meant, too. From the warmer, softer, sweeter way they both smelled, I thought it meant they were happy.

It was all so fascinating to me. I felt like I could watch the two of them for hours and never get tired of noticing their wonderful little quirks.

Nora plucked a twig out of my chest fur. "What happened to you? You look like a bush tried to eat you again."

I flicked an ear. "I'm not sure. My portal sorta just dropped me in the middle of the woods." I shook out my fur and at least seven more leaves floated to the ground.

Evidently, fur was much harder to keep neat than clothes were. "It caught me off guard. I thought I would've ended up in the same place as yesterday."

River blinked slowly. "Arwin's tale recounts his portal dropping him off near his guardians each time. Yours seem too random to follow that rule."

I sat down next to her and picked up a book. I grimaced when I saw the title: A Detailed History of Magical Parasites: Golden Ticks, Enchanted Tapeworms, And More. "Is that a bad thing?"

"No. It probably just means you're a little different than he was." River picked up the book from the stack I had set it on and placed it on another with impeccable care. "Not a bad thing. You'll have to work a little harder to memorize Fable's Reach so you don't get lost, that's all."

That wouldn't be too hard. I wasn't particularly great at navigation, but I didn't think I'd have any trouble at all remembering any part of Fable's Reach. Especially not now that I had my wonderful new nose.

Nora crouched so she was facing River at eye level. "Did that history book of yours say anything about why he ended up here? Maybe it would help us figure out why Starheart's here, too."

River shook her head. "No. It wasn't very detailed, remember? It's an old book, and half the pages are missing or rotted away."

Her ears drooped. "Why can't people take better care of books? History is so important."

"I don't think 'why' matters too much to me," I interjected. "As long as I get to be here."

Nora opened her mouth to say something. She was cut off as a thousand screaming alarms drilled into my head. I yelped in pain. It was like standing next to a moving train times ten. With my human ears, it might not have sounded so bad. I still hadn't quite adjusted to my special hearing amplifying everything by a hundred.

"Turn it off!" River cried. She had her paws clamped over her ears and her eyes shut tight.

"I'm trying!" Nora fumbled with one of the pockets on her cargo shorts, eventually pulling out a small, rectangular object with a handle. It looked like a mirror. She poked at it for a moment, and, to my relief, the horrible screaming stopped.

The mirror itself was fairly plain looking—it was black and looked to be made of plastic. Someone had taken the time to cover the back in cheap stickers of various adorable, smiling foods. Happy hotdogs and overjoyed pancakes grinned up at me.

Curiosity replaced the pain in my head when I saw Nora scrolling on what appeared to be a screen on the front. Since when did mirrors have screens?

"What's that?" I scooted closer.

"What, this?" Nora tilted the mirror towards me. She hit a few more buttons and the screen went black. "That's how we watch you at night. It's black now 'cuz you're asleep, but normally we can see whatever you see through your eyes." She pointed to a small red button below the screen. "That's how we talk to you."

"Whoa." I studied the device closer. The faint sound of breathing seemed to be coming from it. "Is that… me?"

"Yup. Your body is still chilling out in your dimension."

Weird. Up until now I'd been imagining both my bodies being one and the same, simply changing forms. It was strange to think I had two.

Two bodies, one soul. It even sounded magical.

"We can also use mirrors to talk to the other guardians," Nora continued, flipping back to the other screen. Urgent looking messages in all caps were pouring in. "Liiiike now. What you just heard was an emergency alert." She stuffed the mirror back into her pocket, sharing a troubled look with River.

"What's happening? What are we supposed to do?" I could sense my friend's growing unease.

Nora got to her feet. She looked grim. "We need to get to Balance."

***

Balance was in chaos.

People were everywhere. Some tall, some short, some bright purple and sporting tentacles. Inhuman creatures skittered below feet.

Many folks bore the marks of magic—glowing eyes, wings, bursts of fire. A Live Action man dodged a Cartoon woman and nearly stepped on a Puppet kangaroo. Everywhere I looked, I found stranger and stranger people. It was definitely the most fascinating crowd I'd ever been in. It wasn't a surprise that nobody had seemed the slightest bit concerned about my fox form.

We had landed Seafern a ways outside the market—had we gone any closer, the oversized reptile no doubt would have squashed some poor person in the seething crowd. A panicked mob was no place for a dragon.

After dismounting (with me once again landing on my snout) and fighting our way through an alarming amount of people, we finally arrived at the outskirts of the market.

With several hundred people jammed inside, it was far less peaceful than it had been the day before.

At Nora's insistence, the three of us linked hands and paws in a last-ditch effort to avoid getting separated. River's face grew more and more strained with every person who bumped into her. Her ears were flat and she stared at the ground.

"Are you okay?" My nose twitched. No amount of training could keep my nose and ears from getting overwhelmed by this many people.

It was strange how disconcerting it already was to not be able to pick out my friend's scents. If I lost them now, I'd have a great deal of trouble finding them again. I squeezed their hands a little tighter.

River cringed as someone stepped on her tail. "I really hate crowds." She looked up at me. Her startlingly violet eyes were determined, despite the stress wearying her face. "I'll be alright. As long as you don't let go."

"I won't." I smiled at her as warmly as I could.

River smiled back.

After a minute of silence she added, "Thank you."

We continued on, weaving and ducking past bodies towards the general source of the commotion. I was whacked in the head an unnecessary number of times by a purple tentacle.

Nora stopped abruptly. I walked into her. River smacked into me. All three of us would've gone down if it wasn't for the relentless press of people holding us up.

It became immediately apparent why she'd frozen. Directly ahead of us, there was a break of open space where the crowd had formed a ring. Fur-prickling screams were coming someone standing in the centre of it.

The woman was clawing at her own face in distress. Her cat-like tail was lashing in terror. A strange, black wound scarred her chest. As I watched, she collapsed into the dirt and sobbed.

"The beast!" she shrieked. "The beast knows me!" She screamed again, louder this time. I winced at the piercing sound.

"Whoa," River breethd. "Isn't that Catrina? What's wrong with her?"

Similar murmurs were rippling through the crowd.

Nora squinted. "That's her, alright. I don't like this."

Catrina clawed in futility at the dirt. Tears were pouring down her face. My heart twisted. She looked so scared. Everyone was watching her suffering and not doing a thing to help. That would not do.

I crept tentatively forward towards the violently sobbing woman. "Are you alright? What happened?"

She didn't answer. I could feel the burn of hundreds of eyes on me.

"Ain't that the new spiritbond?"

"…didn't think she'd still be here…"

"What's she doing?"

It didn't bother me. I was more than used to being stared at. It was much easier being stared at for trying to help than for being the school freak.

"He wants us!" Catrina shrieked. Her scrabbling claws launched a rock painfully into my chest.

Undeterred, I tried again. "Catrina? That's your name, right? Did something happen?"

The woman fell silent. For a moment, I dared to hope I was helping.

Then, abruptly, her eyes focused sharply on me.

I yelped as Catrina grabbed aggressively at my wrist and yanked me down to my knees. Pebbles bit into my flesh through my fur.

"Shadows," she hissed. Her chest heaved wordlessly for a moment before she continued. "The man of shadows. Darker than the dark. He waits in the woods."

My blood ran cold. Darker than the dark.

It couldn't be. Not it. It was a coincidence. It had to be.

But the timing… right when my shadow had disappeared…

"Did he do this to you?" I whispered.

Catrina's eyes darkened. "He will do this to us all."

Then her eyes rolled back into her head and she let out another pained scream.

I scrambled backwards, knocking my skull into Nora's knees. River reached down and pulled me to my paws.

A group of people in blue shirts muscled their way through the crowd towards the writhing cat lady.

"Everyone clear out and go home!" a woman shouted. "The medics are taking care of it. Nothing to see here."

Mutters rippled through the crowd as they began to disperse. A medic stuck a needle into Catrina's neck and her body relaxed.

"What was that?" River wrung her tail nervously.

"No idea, dude. But there's only one way to find out." Nora watched as the medics struggled with a stretcher.

"Oh, please don't tell me we're—"

"We have to follow them," I interrupted. My mind kept replaying what Catrina said. Man of shadows. Darker than the dark.

If there was any chance at all that this shadow beast in the woods was connected to mine, I had to find out.

"That's what I'm talking about!" Nora crowed. "A little spying never hurt anyone."

"Except for you," River muttered. "Last week. When you got yelled at."

"I don't remember that." Nora darted away, following the medics through the dispersing crowd deeper into Cartoon County. I trotted after her. River followed somewhat more reluctantly.

We stalked the medics slowly from a safe distance, trying to look as natural as possible. If we were caught, I hoped we could pretend we'd happened to be walking in the same direction. A few other stragglers from the crowd seemed to be heading home this way. Every so often one of the blue-shirted team would turn around for one reason or another and we'd all duck behind a trash can or wall.

To my delight, sneaking was much easier in my fox body. My fine-tuned ears tracked my target with ease. My light paws made no sound. I was a creature built for tracking prey.

It felt right. For all the hours I'd practiced sneaking in human form, it was never as effortless as this.

Eventually, the medics stopped at a medium-sized cabin with beds of pink flowers out front. A large sign depicting a bandage was hanging over the wooden porch. They carefully guided the stretcher through the door, shutting it behind them.

"What now?" I hissed.

"This way." Nora motioned us to follow.

We crept along the side of the cabin until we reached an open window. Voices floated through it.

"I can't make anything out," Nora complained.

"I can," I whispered, crawling closer to the window. I focused for a moment and began relaying what I heard.

"…Never seen anything like it," a man's voice said. "Not just hallucinations. Something did this to her."

"What, though?" A woman this time. "Everyone says she stumbled into Balance. Nobody saw her."

The man sighed. "Maybe we should take her word for it. She was there."

"She's delirious. She doesn't know what she's saying."

"Something left these injuries, and it's not any animal I know of. She came out of the woods. What more do you want?"

They both went quiet. I strained my ears. Nothing but the sound of footsteps.

Wait. Footsteps?

Before I could react, the window was thrown the rest of the way open. A woman with a tight brown ponytail and a grumpy expression frowned down at us.

"You three. I see you. Beat it."

"Wait!" Nora jumped to her feet. "If there might be something dangerous in the woods, shouldn't we stop people from going in?"

"It's just a theory, kid. Ramblings from a very sick person. Don't get yourself worked up without solid proof."

"Does this not count as proof?" River asked mildly.

"No. It doesn't." The woman rubbed her face. "Get out of here and let us work. And for goodness' sake, don't go charging off into the woods." She slammed the window shut.

Nora spun around and stalked back the way we came. I hurried after her. "We're totally charging off into the woods, aren't we?"

"Absolutely."

My fur prickled. I knew it was the right thing to do—if the woods were unsafe, someone had to investigate.

But Catrina's description of the monster still haunted me. The last thing I wanted was to come face-to-face with the Shadow. Especially not after the last encounter I had with it. I shivered at the memory of those awful, dark claws hitting my chest.

"This is a bad idea," River said. "We could get hurt. Or worse."

"People have already gotten hurt," Nora reminded her gently. "We could stop it from happening to anyone else.

Someone has to." She took River's paw and squeezed it. "You don't have to come if you don't want to. That's okay."

River shook her head. "If you go, I go. But…" she hesitated. "The mouse who leaves her burrow without checking the skies is the mouse who ends up feeding a hawk."

Nora looked at her quizzically. "What does that mean?"

"It means if you rush into a dangerous situation without planning first, you'll end up dead. All I ask is for us to wait one night. We spend the rest of today checking my books for any information on what this thing might be, and we go tomorrow."

"That sounds good to me," I said. I felt both ashamed and relieved to jump at the chance to put off facing the shadow beast.

Nora nodded. "Cool. That works. Tomorrow, we go into the woods."

Chapter Six

Dude, where have you been?" Nora asked as I finally burst through the door the next day. She was sitting at the kitchen counter. "You fell asleep like an hour ago. I thought you died."

"I told you she wasn't dead!" River shouted from the living room.

"Dang portal dropped me all the way on the other end of Live-Action Land," I huffed. "I had to walk all the way over here."

At least I'd been able to do some sightseeing, though Live-Action Land was far less interesting than Cartoon County. It was an average-looking city populated by tall skyscrapers and regular people. I spotted the occasional superhero or horrifying beast, but the majority of the residents seemed to be normal human characters from slice-of-life sitcoms or movies.

My bright colours and two-dimensional appearance made me stand out like a sore thumb, but nobody seemed to mind. The friendly smiles and kind greetings sent my way was a welcome change from the way I was normally greeted in my world. Nora was right about news travelling fast—everybody already seemed to know my name.

We'd spent the rest of the previous day searching through River's entire library of books with pathetic results. The only source of information we had on what the creature might be came from what I had observed from my own Shadow, though Nora and River were insistent it couldn't be the same one.

"That's not how the Shadow worked, remember?" River had said. "It stayed out of sight. It only haunted you. It wasn't known to be aggressive."

"Mine's already attacked me. Who knows what rules it's following now?" I paced the room. My twitching tail had knocked over a stack of books.

"We won't know for sure until we check," Nora had reminded me. "It's probably nothing serious. Maybe Catrina was seeing things. We don't know."

That was hard to believe. Unease followed me all throughout the next day in my world. I found myself jumpy and distracted. My thoughts always ended up wandering back to the Shadow, Catrina's injuries, and our rapidly approaching trip into the woods. I walked into a door, spilled two glasses of water, and broke a vase before giving up and retreating into my room for the night.

"Bummer dude," Nora sympathized. "At least you can fly back."

River poked her snout through the doorway. "Is it time to leave?" She looked dejected when Nora nodded.

Nora crossed the room and gave her a reassuring hug. "Y'know, it's still not too late for you to—"

"I'm not letting you go without me." River's gaze was steady. "It's not me I'm worried about, you realize. I've seen worse. I don't particularly fancy watching my friends die in front of me, is all."

"We'll be okay," she promised. "We're not going in unarmed." With a loud shhing of metal, Nora unsheathed the sword at her side. I gasped at the sight of it.

Dragonheart was even more awe-inspiring in person. Long and made of nearly indestructible steel, the sword could steal the breath of anyone who laid eyes on it. A black dragon perched where the steel met grip. Its tail curved into the two-handed hilt. Its outstretched wings formed the cross-guard.

Red ruby eyes seemed to burn into one's soul. Ancient script was carved into the steel. I could still remember what it meant:

Fight for the dawn/Lest night never ends.

Wide-eyed, I reached out to touch it. The metal was cold under my paw. A shiver ran through me as I brushed the etched words. It commanded respect.

"Will a sword even do anything against a shadow?" River worried. "You can't touch darkness."

"It was able to touch Catrina," I reasoned. "If it can touch us, we can touch it."

"I suppose we'll do what we can."

***

The woods were terribly imposing. The trees—which had once seemed so bright and welcoming—appeared to loom threateningly above us. Faint creaks came from the trunks bending in the wind. The shadows beneath the bushes seemed to whisper to me.

Come closer.

I shuddered. Nora cast me a reassuring look. River fiddled anxiously with her tail. Seafern bared their teeth protectively.

The great dragon was standing next to us on the back lawn. The tip of their tail twitched as they stared into the forest. They swivelled their head down to look at Nora and rumbled softly. The lilt at the end made it sound questioning.

She patted their scaly snout consolingly. "You can't come with us. The trees are too dense. You wouldn't fit."

Seafern huffed. A puff of smoke curled out of their nose.

"I know, I know. We'll be fine. I promise."

Reluctantly, they sat down and wrapped their tail around their front talons. They watched mournfully as Nora turned back to me and River. "You guys ready?" Her voice was energized and excited.

Her enthusiasm was infectious. Despite my fears, I was bursting with anticipation. This was exactly like what heroes on T.V did—they charged into danger to save others.

The idea made my chest swell with pride. "Ready!"

River took a deep breath. "Ready."

Nora nodded approvingly and led us into the trees.

Despite what Catrina had said, nothing really seemed wrong with the forest. The trees were a normal colour. Everything smelled the way it should. The only footsteps I could hear—besides my friends'—was the gentle scurry of rodent claws.

I raised my tail proudly. This was where I was always meant to be—facing off danger and solving magical mysteries. I'd always felt I wasn't meant for a normal, boring life. It was only a matter of time before something incredible happened to me. I'd known it since I was small.

Though, of course, that feeling had always been twisted up with the sad certainty that protagonists—no, heroes—weren't people like me. They didn't… well. They didn't screw up like I did.

No, that wasn't true. Heroes made mistakes. What separated me from my idols was not so accidental.

Nausea crept over me and I forced my thoughts back to the woods. Nora was still leading, one hand on Dragonheart's hilt. River was sniffing the air, her ears rotating at every little sound. Her fur was flat and she looked calmer than she did before.

"Do you sense anything?" I asked her. "You're still better at this than I am."

River smiled, making her face stripes ripple. "You're better than you think," she said. "But no. I don't feel as wrong as I thought I would." She raised her face to the blowing branches above and closed her eyes for a moment. "It doesn't feel off. Or evil. Maybe Catrina was wrong."

"That's probably a good thing," I said. "All that matters to me is that people are safe. I'd do anything to protect this world." The words gave me a rush of happiness. They felt right.

River tilted her head. "Noble words. I like that."

"You don't think I sound stupid?" That was surprising. My sister teased me relentlessly when I said things like that.

River watched me silently for a moment. Her violet eyes always had a way of boring deep into me, as though she were seeing me on a much deeper level than anyone else did. Almost like she was studying my soul. It wasn't a bad feeling. It was the kind of understanding that made me feel safe. Seen.

I liked it when River looked at me.

"Nothing genuine is ever stupid, my friend," she said softly.

We walked in silence for five minutes or so, eyes and ears on alert for anything amiss. The overhanging branches brushed at my fur. A lone buck raised his head warily as we passed. I began to relax. I always felt safe in nature.

Nora broke the silence, startling me. "Is it just me, or is it getting darker?"

She was right. Directly ahead of us, the forest faded into near pitch-black darkness far too quickly to be natural. There was a definitive line where it began. It was like someone had filled the woods with thick, black fog.

River shivered beside me. "Okay. Now I feel wrong. Something is very, very off about this place."

I could feel it too. The idea of getting any closer to the impenetrable midnight made every one of my instincts scream at me to run. Maybe it was the way the low light seemed to suck all the colour out of the bark, making the trees look a sickening shade of grey.

Or maybe it was the dead silence. The wind had stopped blowing. The birds didn't dare to sing. It felt like the whole world was holding its breath, waiting.

Waiting for what? I didn't know. I almost didn't want to imagine.

I had to find out.

Steeling my resolve, I walked towards the dark. I heard my friends—as brave as ever—follow me.

I shivered as the black mist washed over me. The air was freezing cold. Like walking through a ghost.

Silently, Nora's hand brushed my paw. She was staying close—smart thinking. I couldn't see the tip of my own snout. The last thing I wanted was to lose them.

I did not want to be alone in this place. Not ever. The air itself radiated a menace so strong it made me sick with dread.

I had always believed in the supernatural. When one is followed by a shadowy figure every day for years, it's hard not to. Ghosts, spirits, the afterlife… it held weight, in my eyes. How else could you explain the unsettling shivers that travel down your spine for no particular reason, or seeing things that nobody else did? I wasn't religious, but I was sure there was more to the world than my own two eyes could see.

This, though? It was unlike anything I'd ever experienced.

It felt like being swallowed alive.

"River," I whispered, not daring to speak any louder. "Can you smell anything? All I'm getting is leaf rot."

Silence. Even my friend's footfalls had gone quiet.

A bolt of panic shot through me. "Guys?"

I reached out. Nothing was there.

They were gone.

My breath hitched in my throat. Don't panic. Don't panic. You're okay. They can't be far.

Snap.

The sound came from somewhere behind me. I spun around. There was nothing. Maybe I'd imagined it. Maybe it was one of my friends.

"Guys?" I tried again.

No answer.

I was about to call out one more time when I felt a hand stroke my fur. Gently, carefully, affectionately, like someone petting a dog. I lashed out blindly, hoping my paw would collide with Nora. Praying that she was playing a cruel joke.

There was only empty air.

A horrified, strangled whine escaped my throat. I took off at a sprint, desperation winning over logic. The only sounds were my own ragged, terrified breaths and the raw cries of my voice as I called my friend's names over and over, to no avail.

A branch whipped at my face. My paw hit a loose rock and twisted painfully.

Don't panic. Don't panic. Panic makes it worse.

Running blindly wouldn't help me. Not that I could run much farther—my ankle ached something fierce.

Use your other senses. I was still used to relying on my eyes.

Hearing? Nothing. Dead silence.

Scent? Overwhelmingly foul, like rotten wood and fear.

Not a single thing that would help—

Wait.

I could have sworn that—only for a moment—another sound caught my attention. Nothing more than a faint rustle in the dark. I paused, listening.

There it was again. The breaking of twigs.

"River?" I called hopefully.

A growl answered me. A growl of venomous hate.

My heart dropped. I spun around.

A massive shape loomed over me, so dark it stood out against the blinding shadows that surrounded us both. It took on a vaguely humanoid form, though it shifted and twisted with every step. One moment it was a man, the next it was little more than a rippling cloud of darkness. The only constants were its wide, gleeful smile and the two bright red, loathsome eyes glaring down at me.

"Hello, little fox," it rumbled. Its voice seemed to come from everywhere at once. "Do you remember me?"

I was frozen.

It was my shadow. Massive, strong, and vengeful, but undoubtedly it.

The Shadow stalked closer on all fours, its massive form travelling with strange ease. Its mouth lolled open in a sick smile. Each breath that came out of it sounded like a sharp, pained hiss.

"I—" My words wouldn't come out. My heartbeat pounded in my ears.

"What's wrong?" It mocked. "Not happy to see me?"

"You shouldn't be here," I finally choked out.

It lunged at me and I fell back into the dirt.

"You brought this upon yourself." It snarled as its enormous claws slashed at my face and missed my snout by a hair.

I felt like I was going to throw up. "What do you want from me?"

Its calm demeanor melted away, replaced by a shivering rage. "I'm here to make you pay!" It roared. It pulled its clawed hand back, bracing to strike me.

I was going to die here.

Before it could strike again—before I could even breathe—Nora's voice cut through the stifling silence.

"Eat wood, you ugly jerk!"

I opened my eyes in time to see a faint, thin shape—a stick, most likely—go flying through the air and pass directly through the Shadow's chest.

The Shadow screamed, more enraged than in pain.

"Go!" Hands pulled me to my paws and shoved me roughly until I was running faster than I'd ever gone before. My chest burned and my head spun.

It's here. It's really here.

Was it following us? I didn't dare to check.

"Where's River?" I gasped. I couldn't see the grey fox anywhere.

"Right beside me," Nora called. "Don't stop."

The air around us was beginning to lighten, to my relief. We passed the barrier of darkness back into the birdsong-filled forest, but not one of us stopped. I couldn't remember the last time I'd run this far or this fast. No tiredness burned at my lungs; the terror and adrenaline in my veins could have fuelled me for weeks.

We reached the cabin after what felt like hours. Seafern raised their head in alarm as we blew past. Through the door, up the stairs, and down the end of the hallway, we ended up in a small room with a table positively covered in maps, gadgets, and tools.

I was trembling from ears to tail tip. My legs shook so badly I was afraid they would collapse. My fur was puffed up so much I must have looked twice my size.

It followed me here.

The three of us stood wordlessly around the crowded table for a moment, the suffocating silence weighing heavily on us.

"Starheart," Nora broke the quiet first. "It—that thing… it didn't hurt you, did it?"

I wasn't sure how to answer. "No," I whispered finally. It still felt like a lie.

Satisfied with that answer, Nora began pacing furiously. River watched her, perfectly still. She looked like she'd been frozen. I couldn't even see her breathing.

"What," Nora seethed, "In the world. Was that?"

A cold chill travelled down my spine as I struggled for air. Its eyes flickered in my mind. It made me sick.

I'm here to make you pay.

That wasn't what it meant. It couldn't be.

"You know what that was," I said quietly. My gaze was fixed on the floor. I watched dimly as an ant scuttled across my claws. "The Shadow. My Shadow."

Nora's footsteps stopped. "How can you be so sure it's the exact same one?"

I swallowed back the burn in my throat. "It was acting like we knew each other."

Wrenching my eyes up from the floor, I forced myself to meet my friends' worried gazes. My ears trembled. They're going to hate you if they find out.

No. When they find out.

"It's here for me," I choked out. "That's what it said. It's coming after me. It's my fault."

"That's nonsense." River spoke for the first time. "Unless you willingly, knowingly, intentionally brought it here for the purpose of causing unjust harm, then it's not your fault."

Nora nodded emphatically. "Right. What she said. It's probably trying to mess with your head. I doubt it actually has anything to do with you."

An unpleasant energy was burning beneath my fur. "It doesn't matter if I called it here or not!" I cried. I didn't realize I was backing away until my spine slammed painfully into a shelf. "If it's here for me, if it's hurting people to get to me, then it's my fault. It's because of me. That blood is on my hands, and I—"

"Whoa, hey, don't think like that." Nora reached out and touched my arm gently. I flinched a little, surprised, and then relaxed. I realized my eyes were damp and my chest ached with unspent sobs.

Don't cry. You don't get to cry about this.

"It's okay," Nora said with remarkable tenderness. "You haven't done anything wrong. Nobody's gonna blame you for this. If they do, I'll—well, they'll have to deal with me."

River—who had padded silently closer—watched me with concerned curiosity. Her normally neat fur was ruffled. Despite the horrors of the day, her eyes were clear.

Unhaunted. "Another being's cruelty is no fault of your own," she murmured. "Especially when it is senseless, and without reason. You've done nothing to prompt revenge."

I looked away again.

Not now. Not here. Not in front of them.

I let out a long, shaky breath and pushed my darker thoughts back into the shadows where they belonged.

"What do we do, then?" I asked evenly. Then, forcing as much cheer as I could muster into my voice, added, "I'm sure that now we know something's in there, we can fix it in no time at all!"

It sounded fake. It felt even faker.

Nora cast me an odd look but, thankfully, didn't question it. Instead, she stepped back and scratched at her arms. "We're gonna get in so much trouble."

"We have to say something," River pointed out.

"I know. I'm just saying, for the record? We're gonna get in so much trouble."

"We don't really have any proof," I said. "Is there anyone who's actually going to listen?"

Nora nodded decisively. "Yeah. I know someone. We'd better go see Jerico."

Chapter Seven

Who's Jerico?" I asked. The name was vaguely familiar.

The three of us were making our way through the town on the outskirts of Balance. Towering shops mixed with small stalls. Vendors peddled their wares to people milling by. A raven flitted overhead. Feet kicked up dust from the dirt road.

The shoppers were overwhelmingly Cartoon characters, though I could see the occasional Live-Action person wandering around. I nearly trampled a small burger Puppet, who shook his cheesy fist at me and ran away before I could apologize.

The sun was climbing high in the sky. River had told me that the time in Fable's Reach was directly the opposite of where I was on Earth—midnight was noon, and vice versa. It meant that while I was awake during the day, my friends could watch over me at night.

"The only half reasonable adult around here," Nora said scornfully.

"The only one who doesn't hate her," River translated.

"Hey!"

"Well, it's true. Ira looks like he wants to murder whenever he sees you."

"That's because he can't handle my free spirit."

"Or the fact that you set his house on fire," River muttered.

"You did what?" I cried.

"She's exaggerating," Nora said, shooting River a look of mock offense. "I accidentally knocked over a candle and torched his garbage cans. One time. Honestly, he really needs to move on."

"People hate you just for that?" I wrinkled my snout. That didn't seem fair.

"Weeeell…" Nora hesitated. "Not exactly. I'm sort of…"

"Insubordinate? Disobedient? Rebellious? Impudent in regards to any and all authority?" River offered helpfully.

"Yeah. Exactly." Looking disgruntled, she added, "If they want me to listen to them, maybe they shouldn't act like a bunch of self-important old jerks."

"And Jerico… isn't a self-important old jerk?" I ventured.

"Nah. He's cool. He actually listens when we tell him stuff, which is nice."

River nodded. "He was the only one who believed us when I caught Sherlock Number Seven digging through people's trash cans."

"Or the time he stuck up for us when everyone thought Seafern was stealing sheep. Which, obviously, they weren't. Seafern hates sheep," Nora said.

"He sounds nice!" I wagged my tail eagerly. "If we can get him to help us, I'm sure everything is gonna end up fine."

"Let's hope so."

The market was becoming more crowded. Every few meters I had to dodge a small child or weave past chatting people. Signs for various stalls caught my eye.

Custom bead bracelets!

Roast pork sausage—$15.

Free honey samples.

The smell was intoxicating. The aroma of roasting meat, sugary frosting, and various wonderfully salty things swirled together into a delectable cloud of flavour. I was dizzy with it. My nose followed the promising allure of freshly baked bread to a stand that read Bottled wheat ghosts—$20 each. It was, tragically, free of pastries. The tabletop was instead populated by glass bottles filled with some sort of white mist.

I was still trying to figure out what a wheat ghost was when my ears picked up the sound of angry voices behind me. I turned, handing the strangely warm bottle back to the woman at the counter.

I didn't like what I saw.

A curly haired boy of about twelve had River cornered. She didn't look happy about it—her bright eyes were wide. Anxious. Her head was ducked low and she kept backing away, one pawstep at a time. She flinched when her foot splashed through a filthy puddle. The boy sneered. My ears caught pinpricks of their words.

"…can't you talk? What's wrong with you?"

"I can talk, I just—sometimes I—well—"

"What's wrong? They forget to teach you how to speak when they made you?"

My hackles rose. I didn't even try to suppress my growl as I stalked over. People jumped out of the way.

"What's going on?" I pushed my way between them.

"Hello, Starheart," River greeted. She was staring very fixedly at the roof of a nearby building.

"Are you okay?"

"Who are you?" the boy demanded.

"I'm here to tell you to be nice," I said sternly. Oh, please let him listen to me. I don't want to be mean.

Of course he didn't.

Instead, he turned on me. "You're that new one, aren't you? Sucks I didn't bring my gun. You'd look better as a rug."

I bristled. "Hey!"

Before I could think of anything else to say, Nora materialized from the crowd and fixed the boy with a withering glare. "Wade, go home."

He puffed up his chest and raised his chin at her. Given the fact that she was at least a head taller than him, it really wasn't all that impressive. She crossed her arms, unfazed. "Go home, or I'll tell your dad."

"You wanna go? You wanna fight?"

I covered a smile. It was like a duckling trying to fight a bear. A mean duckling, sure, but a duckling nonetheless.

Nora sighed, exasperated. "I'm not gonna fight you. I don't fight little kids. Go home."

"Oh yeah? You scared? I don't hit girls, but lucky for me you're not a real girl anyway. So it's okay." He sneered again.

Something shifted across her face for a moment. Then her cool demeanor returned and she rolled her eyes at him. "Do you really think it's the first time I've heard that one? Seriously kid, beat it. Before I tell your dad."

He huffed angrily and stomped away.

What did he mean by that?

Nora turned back to us. "You guys good?"

River nodded. "Yes. Thank you." She stopped. "Are—are you okay?"

Nora hesitated. "It's fine. Really. I wasn't lying when I said I was used to it."

Nora didn't look 'fine'. Her jaw was set and she was scratching at her arm again. I couldn't remember having seen her bothered before, at least not while we'd known each other. It made me feel like I'd missed something vitally important about the situation that everyone else seemed to understand.

"What was that all about?" I asked curiously. "Why'd he say that to you?"

Nora gave me a look. "Come on, man. You know why."

My confusion deepened. "Do I?"

"I talked about it all the time with the dragonriders. It would've been in my show." She furrowed her brows. "It… should have been, at least. You really don't know?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about," I said.

Nora's expression had switched to one of guarded caution. Her scent sharpened, turning bitter and unpleasantly fur-raising.

Fear, I realized. She's afraid of me.

I scratched at my snout, trying to keep back the inevitable outpouring of thoughts. Had I done something wrong? Had I hurt her feelings somehow?

The thought of losing Nora as a friend made a sad whine creep up my throat.

River—perhaps sensing Nora's distress as well—crept a little closer to her and nosed her shoulder. She didn't appear to notice.

"I'm trans."

Oh.

My ears pricked in surprise. That hadn't been what I'd expected.

Still, it wasn't so foreign to me. There was a boy in one of my classes—he was trans, and he'd always been kind to me where others weren't. Once, a group of kids had tricked me into drinking vinegar. They'd told me it was a new sports drink. One that tasted really, really good.

In hindsight, I really shouldn't have believed them.

What I remembered most about the incident was coughing alone in the hallway with watery eyes and a burning nose, trying not to gag as the foul taste scorched my mouth. The only water fountain in the school had been broken for three years, and I'd conveniently forgotten my water bottle that day, depriving me of the relief I'd so desperately needed.

The boy—I'd never been able to remember his name—had given me a juice box and sat with me until he knew I was okay. Nobody else had even looked at me.

We didn't speak much after that, but I never forgot about it.

"Well, that's perfectly alright. There's nothing wrong with that." I wagged my tail reassuringly.

The wariness faded from her face. "Thanks, Starheart. You don't know what that means to me."

I would do anything for you, I thought. This is nothing.

She still seemed confused. "I guess I just don't understand how you didn't know that. It's not something I've ever tried to hide. At least not since I met the dragonriders."

I shrugged. "The T.V network Dragon's Call aired on was known for censorship. I wouldn't put it past them to cut something like that out."

"Ugh. Cowards."

I couldn't help but agree.

After a minute of continuing our travel in silence, I spoke up again. "He's wrong, you know."

"Hmm?"

"You are a real girl."

The corners of her mouth twitched upward. "You're good, Starheart. You know that?"

I shrugged. "Not really."

River looked up at me. Given how short she was, she had to tilt her head way back to even look at me. It was cute. I wondered if this was how Michael felt when he talked to me.

"Thanks," she said. "For looking out for me. You make me feel… nice."

"You make me feel nice too," I told her, brushing her tail with mine.

Eventually, we reached a weathered old building with colourful shingles. Nora led us through the door.

Jerico's shop was much smaller than I'd expected. It was a tiny, cramped room with shelves covering every available surface. The only spaces free of them were the back wall—home to a counter with an old-timey bell and a door to a back room—as well as a few spots at the front where they appeared to be roughly hacked away to make space for small windows.

Every single shelf was full to the point of sagging with potions. Bottles in every shape and size imaginable filled the store. Even the oversized table that took up most of the floor space was covered in them. The light filtering in through the small, dusty windows hit the rainbow of liquids and reflected back in a dazzling array of colour and light.

It was breathtaking. After a life of the drab, minimalist whites and greys of big grocery store chains, I'd never dared to imagine a store could be this beautiful. It smelled like moldy lemons, but I was willing to overlook that.

"Wow," I breethd. "This place is incredible! It's like, straight out of a fantasy world! Well—I guess it is, actually." I shifted from foot to foot, unable to keep still.

"What do these even do? Make you fly? Give you cool powers? Ooh, would this one turn me into a pig?" I held up a short, fat bottle filled with a thick pink liquid.

"Starheart, you're already a fox," River looked amused.

"I know, but… but pig!"

"Why do you want to be a pig so badly?"

"I don't. I like being a fox. I just think they're really cute." I placed the bottle back gently on the shelf.

"They're mostly medicinal." River squeezed past me and nosed a pale blue bottle. "Like this one. Jerico gave it to me when I got fleas."

Nora maneuvered to the counter and started ringing the bell incessantly. Dingdingdingdingding.

"Some of them are fun, though," River continued over the sound. "I know there's one that turns you green for an hour. Another that gives you eagle vision."

I pointed to a particularly round one. "What about that?"

The liquid inside was a deep, midnight blue flecked with small silver spots like stars. A paper tag tied around its neck with twine read: Dreamweaver.

I sniffed it curiously. It smelled sugary and sweet. Comfortingly so. It almost made me sleepy, like warm milk before bedtime often did.

River's ear twitched. "One sip of that will grant you the power to walk in the dreams of anyone you choose for a night. You could communicate directly with the deeper, more open parts of their mind. Quite powerful."

"Whoa. Have you ever used that on me?"

"No. Some use it on their spiritbonds, but not us. I've always felt it was invasive if you don't have permission. Besides, we've never had to. You've always been wonderful about listening to us."

I grinned at her. "Of course I am. You've never led me wrong."

River continued on. Her paws waved animatedly and her eyes were sparking with barely-restrained excitement in an abrupt change from her normally calm demeanor. "It can have some terrifying effects, of course. Dreams are often confusing and volatile, and can very easily turn into nightmares, which nobody wants to be trapped in. Due to these factors—as well as the fact that we don't need to sleep—it's usually reserved for emergencies, like if—"

"Wait, you guys don't need to sleep?" I interrupted.

"No. Nobody really knows why, though of course everyone agrees it's caused by whatever magic brings us here in the first place. I think the most likely theory is that it's because we have to guard our spiritbonds at night, which doesn't really leave much time for sleeping. That, though, raises a lot of questions about the intelligence of magic, and implies some greater thought to all of it."

It was like me asking the question had flipped a switch on her personality. Normally, the little grey fox seemed quiet and a little bit afraid. Of what, I wasn't sure. But her distinct scent—warm leaves and damp earth—permanently carried traces of an old, long-borne fear.

It was nice seeing her so happy for a change. It made my heart feel lighter.

Before I could tell her that, the door behind the counter slammed open and an annoyed-looking Cartoon man in his mid twenties stepped out. He wore a perfectly tailored waistcoat over a pristine white shirt and an ironed pair of black trousers. His big, fancy moustache made him the most dapper person I had ever seen. He looked like he'd stepped straight out of the 1920s.

He was clutching his head in irritation. "Nora, must you do that so persistently?"

She abandoned her attack on the bell. "I need to talk to you."

He picked up a piece of paper and scribbled something down absentmindedly. "What? Did you break your front window again?"

"Nah, we're good. This is… something else." She hesitated. "Something bad."

His face grew serious. "Oh? What might that be?"

The little bell over the door jingled as an elderly woman with bright blue skin walked in the shop. Nora glanced at her pointedly. "Not here."

Jerico nodded and walked wordlessly back through the door. Nora gestured at us to follow.

The back of the shop was no less chaotic than the front. Shelves and tables were piled with glass tubes, metal tongs, and other strange equipment I couldn't identify. Glass jars filled with various ingredients lined the room.

The right wall was home to a fireplace with a massive bubbling witch-like cauldron. Directly opposite leaned an old wooden ladder leading up through a hole in the ceiling.

The whole place had a faintly pleasant scent of flowers and spices. It clashed horribly with the roasted barf smell of whatever was in the cauldron. River stood as far away from it as she could get.

Given the small size of the room, it wasn't far. Her tail still brushed mine.

Jerico was staring at me. "My goodness. It's true, then? Your spiritbond is here?"

My tail wagged furiously. "Hello, there! Very nice to meet you. I think your store is fantastic! This whole world is fantastic! Gosh, I wish I could live here!"

He chuckled. "My, you're spirited, aren't you?"

"I get that a lot," I said. "I think it's more fun that way."

There was a slight chance I was going a little bit overboard considering what we'd discovered was no light-hearted matter. But I was terrified that if I didn't smile, I would panic.

Optimism is best.

Fears aren't useful.

Don't think about the monster. Keep it locked up far, far away from where you have to see it.

That was the easiest way to live. It was the tactic that had brought me through my previous fish's death, my grandfather's illness, and the relentless teasing from the kids at school. You could cheer your way through pretty much anything. If you were kind enough, you could ease other people's hurt. If you looked on the bright side, the shadows couldn't find you. As long as you didn't think about them too hard.

"Starheart, was it? Interesting name." He rubbed his chin.

"I chose it myself," I said proudly.

"It's nice. Not conventional, but I've always thought we needed a little more uniqueness in the world." He looked me up and down. "You're not human?"

"W-well, my original body is, but—"

"But you're not," he finished. "Not in spirit."

I blinked at him. "How did you know that?"

"Ah. Well, believe it or not, you're not the first spiritbond to end up here." He crossed the room and piled more logs on the fire. "It's a phenomenon we've observed throughout history. Every so often, one of you is drawn here, for one reason or another. Nobody is truly certain as to why—some appeared to have some great purpose or destiny. Others simply lived mundane lives with their guardians.

The only constant is the physical form your bodies take upon entry to our world. Each of you—without fail—have taken on the appearance that most reflects how you see yourselves. Admittedly …" He looked up at me again. "Most people become stronger, or taller, or gain a different eye colour.

I've never heard of anyone like you. I can only assume your inner self is quite different from the rest of us."

I stared at him in disbelief. "And you're—you're not upset about that?"

He stood up sharply. The fire cast a faint orange light across his black shoes. "Why should I be? Grace and understanding are far kinder. We don't choose the way we feel—why punish each other for it?"

The tension melted out of my shoulders. Nora was right—he wasn't a self-important old jerk.

I liked him already.

"Alright, that's enough of the niceties," he said. "You didn't come here for a friendly chat. What is so urgent that you felt the need to interrupt my studies?"

"Well, don't look at me like that," Nora said. "It's not my fault."

"I find that hard to believe."

She rolled her eyes.

"You know what happened yesterday," River spoke up. She was inspecting a chip in the shelf next to her. "With Catrina. She said there was something in the woods, so we—" she broke off, shivering.

"We found it." Nora turned serious. "She was right. There's something in there, man. It's dangerous."

Jerico pinched the bridge of his nose. “So, let me get this straight: you heard about a murderous beast in the woods, and your first instinct was to go charging blindly into the trees to find it?”

“Um… yes?”

“Do you have any idea how stupid that was?”

“Absolutely. But someone had to do it, why not us?”

He rubbed his face, exasperated. “What am I supposed to do with you two—” he paused. “Three. There's three of you now. Lord, help us all.”

"Whatever. We're fine," Nora said impatiently. "That doesn't matter now. What matters is making sure everyone is safe, and I don't think Ira will even see me on my own. That's why we need you."

He stared at her, dismayed. "You're serious."

"Dead serious."

Dread settled over me like a cold wave. What if he didn't help us? What if he did, but nobody listened?

What if more people get hurt because of me?

I shuddered. I'd give anything to keep that from happening.

River angled her ears in my direction.

"Well, then," Jerico leaned back against the table. "You'd better tell me what you found."

The three of us took turns filling him in on what we'd seen. River described everything about the plants and trees in tremendous detail. I stepped in when we'd gotten separated. I told him about the Shadow, in all its terrifying glory, and all about its gleaming red eyes.

"It said—it said that I—" The words died in my throat.

He said he was here for me. I squeezed my eyes shut.

"It said it was gonna hurt people." Nora shot me a meaningful look. "We don't know why."

She's covering for me? Why?

Didn't everyone have a right to know if it was my fault? I didn't deserve that kind of protection. Not if it was telling the truth.

And yet, I couldn't bring myself to correct her.

"I only got away 'cuz Nora found me and threw a stick at him. Totally epic move, I gotta say," I said brightly.

Stupid. Stupid! You sound pathetic. Do you really think they won't notice? the darker part of my mind snarled.

What else am I supposed to do?

Tell them.

I can't.

They'll find out someday.

Shut up. They won't.

I hope they do. I hope they hate you. You deserve everything that's coming for you.

River whined.

"Everything we have—everyone who lives here—will be in trouble if we don't do something," Nora finished. "We've never needed you more than now."

A heavy silence hung over the room. Only the crackle of the fire broke it.

Then, wordlessly, Jerico got up and began stuffing various papers and books into a satchel. A metal dish clattered to the floor as he swept past and towards the door.

"Come on," he said. "If we hurry, we can make the council meeting. They need to hear about this."

It was a relief to be out of the cramped shop. It had been near impossible to turn around in there without knocking something over with my tail—I was far clumsier with it than River appeared to be.

New bodies definitely took getting used to. Not that it wasn't totally worth it.

"So, you believe us?" The energy flowed back into Nora's voice as we crossed Balance into Live-Action Land. The hyper-realism was jarring in contrast to the bright colours and sharp black lines of everyone around me. My bright orange fur stood out like a tongue of fire against the dusty ground.

"You are many things, Nora, but you are not a cruel person. You would not lie about something this dire. I have great faith in that." He led us across the square to the massive, wooden building I'd seen the other day. I was struck again by how impressive it was.

"That place is definitely haunted," I said.

"We have several ghosts, and I can assure you none of them reside in the council hall." He passed by the carved double doors and led us down the much less impressive alleyway that flanked the building.

I gawked. "We have ghosts? Can I meet a ghost?"

"I don't think you have a choice in the matter. They're quite persistent." He bent down to unlock a side door with a comically large ring of keys from his pocket.

"Still better than the Sherlocks," Nora commented grumpily.

"Why do you have so much beef with those guys?" I wondered.

"They tried to get me arrested. I didn't even do anything!"

River patted her on the head like a cat.

As it turned out, the small, chipped side door led to a massive room that looked like the backstage area to a grand theatre. Wooden crates framed racks upon racks of fancy, frilly costumes that smelled like they'd been abandoned for decades. Various odd contraptions were everywhere—ropes and metal levers and weird, sharp boxes.

I'd seen some of them before when I'd gone backstage at my school's theatre, but I couldn't imagine a use for them. On the left side of the room was a door with the scent of many different people wafting from it. Some young, some old, some sick. Fresh, too. There were lots of people gathered in there.

Nora charged towards the door. Jerico calmly grabbed her by the hood and yanked her back.

"Hey, man! What gives?" She rubbed her throat.

"Patience, Nora. They won't listen if you barge in and interrupt their announcements."

She scuffed the floor. "We don't have time to wait. Somebody could be going into the forest right now."

She was breathing hard. I hadn't realized how upset she was by all this.

Gently, I took her hand and tugged her towards the door. "Why don't we listen for a bit," I suggested. "Then we can find a good time to go in."

Reluctantly, she agreed. Nora, River, and I huddled close to the door while Jerico hovered a ways back. The door itself was a lot less ornate than the ones on the outside—it was little more than a few planks of wood nailed together. Large gaps between the slats provided perfect eyeholes.

I could only see one angle from where I was crouched. There was a row of raised seats filled with people. Most of them looked thoroughly bored.

I winced. River was using my back as an armrest. I dug my claws into the wood to keep from falling.

"…concludes our messages about the new water tower," a man out of view finished.

"Anything else?"

"There are complaints to be addressed on the addition to the local library."

"Who are those people?" I asked. They sounded important. They spoke the way my dad did when he was in his work meetings. He always got upset when I made too much noise during them.

"That's the council," River said, mercifully easing the pressure on my spine. "They make most of the decisions around here. Where to put communal buildings, who gets what punishment when laws are broken, what the laws even are, that sort of thing. It's made up of the five eldest characters in the realm."

"I hope I never get that old," Nora said. "I would literally rather die than join those stuck up ancient old dudes."

"You guys get old?" I echoed, then immediately realized how silly of a question that was.

"We usually arrive at the age we were at the end of our stories," River said. "And continue to age like normal from there. Assuming we have natural lifespans, of course. I know one guy who's immortal—he's been around for at least two hundred years. Gosh, I wish I could ask him what the world was like back then!"

Quickly, I did the math in my head. If both of them ended their respective shows at a similar age and spent a little over a year in Fable's Reach, that meant…

"You guys are eighteen?"

"Nora is. I'm not. I will be in a couple months, though."

My own eighteenth birthday was only a few weeks away, and fast approaching. The thought of my favourite characters growing up like I did was unexpectedly strange—they'd always been sort of frozen in time from my side of the universe. I only glimpsed the parts of their lives I was allowed to see.

Knowing them, older and real and so much like me, was like stepping back from a keyhole and opening the door.

They felt especially real when they were digging their elbows into my eyeball. River was practically standing on my head by that point. It was not a three-person doorway.

"Guys," Nora hissed. "They're talking about the woods. I think. Maybe. It's hard to tell."

I tuned in again.

"…yesterday's commotion," a man droned. "We can assure you there is no cause for panic. Our healers are working hard to save young Catrina's life, and they are confident it's an isolated incident. You may all return to business as usual."

I frowned. "Did you hear that?"

Nora looked grim. "I heard enough." She stood up sharply and reached for the doorknob.

River's scent flared sharply with panic. "Wait. We're just… going in? In front of everyone? Shouldn't we wait until after?"

"If we wait 'til after, the meeting will be over. Knowing them, they'll wait 'til next month to say something. It's gotta be now," Nora said patiently.

River stared uncertainly at the door.

"You don't have to say anything," Nora continued. "We'll do all the talking. Promise."

I nodded. "I was the one who saw everything." I wagged my tail reassuringly.

Everything.

I hesitated. "Are we… are we gonna tell them what it said to me? About it being here because of me?"

I was trying to act natural, but I felt my tail droop a little.

Nora brushed a strand of wavy hair out of her eyes. "Star, I didn't tell Jerico about that bit 'cuz you seemed totally freaked about it. I didn't think it meant anything, either. Just some creepy shadow dude lying through its teeth to get under your skin. Not important enough to mention." She waved a hand dismissively.

She'd seen right through my question.

Hiding the truth made me uneasy. Maybe Nora was right—maybe it had been lying. Maybe nothing bad would happen.

But what if she wasn't? What if all of this came back to bite me in the tail?

I shook my head to clear it. This was not the time to get pessimistic.

Nora glanced furtively at Jerico. He'd busied himself by sifting through the costumes and hadn't noticed our conversation. "Ready? Gotta be fast."

Anxiety was still pouring off River in waves. Without a second thought, I reached out and grabbed her paw. She blinked at me, surprised.

"I told you I wouldn't let go," I said softly.

River's fear-scent faded slightly. It was tinged with a new emotion—something calmer and warmer.

Something a lot like trust.

"We're ready."

Nora threw open the door. Jerico shouted in surprise. A murmur rippled through the crowd in the stands as the three of us stalked out onto the floor.

The small amphitheatre was packed with people. Hundreds of eyes stared down at us. The polished wooden floor was slick under my paws. It was much harder to keep my balance without grippy shoes—I had to curl my claws into the wood.

A long table stood before us along the same wall as the door we'd come through. Five people with varying expressions of shock sat at it.

Only one of them appeared human—an elderly Live Action man wearing a mask of rage. To his left sat a giant Claymation tortoise wearing a fascinator and a man of pure, glowing light whose media type was impossible for me to determine. To his right, a small goldfish swam in a bowl and beside that hovered a giant cloud of purple mist that wouldn't stop muttering to itself.

The goldfish's bowl was far too small, I noticed with a rush of pity. He needed a much bigger tank than that. It was a harmful misconception that fish could be kept in bowls. They were much more complicated, high maintenance pets than people realized. Both my goldfish had plenty of space to swim.

I can assure you, I am fine, a disembodied voice said. I almost screamed. My confinement in this miniature prison is only temporary. You, however, have earned my respect.

"Bubbles is telepathic," River whispered.

"Telepathic fish," I whispered back. "This is the coolest day of my life!"

"What is the meaning of this?" the elderly man spat. His face was redder than a tomato. "What insolence could possess you to interrupt an official council meeting?"

"Listen up!" Nora called, addressing the crowd. "You're all in danger."

More whispers spread through the crowd, this time laced with worry.

"What they've told you about yesterday is wrong," she continued. "There's something in the woods. Something dangerous. And if we don't do something, it's gonna hurt someone else."

The man of light flared brighter. His burning heat reached me from where I was standing. "Why haven't we heard about this?"

"You're hearing it now."

"And why," challenged the old man, "do you expect us to believe you? For all we know, you're lying for attention. I wouldn't put it past you."

"Nora's not a liar. We saw it too." I fought to keep my fur from bristling.

I couldn't allow myself to get angry. Anger was the root of all evil; that was what I told myself. There was nothing worse than when that bubbling lava rose in my chest and I had to dedicate all my strength to fighting it back.

River squeezed my paw slightly and the heat died back.

I'm okay. I'm in control. I'm kind.

"Ira… they look… serious. Perhaps we should… hear them out." The tortoise adjusted her fascinator as she spoke. She blinked at us kindly.

Jerico—finally catching up—jogged out onto the floor.

"I promise they're telling the truth." He gave Nora a tired look. She grinned back cheekily. "No matter how impulsive and rude they may seem."

"Oh, yes? Were you there, then? Or are you simply taking their words for it and aiding their destructive cause for widespread panic?" Ira sneered.

Self-import old jerk, indeed.

The purple cloud hummed and vibrated but didn't speak. Glowing sparks flew from it.

Violaceous The Destroyer is correct, Bubbles said. We cannot act without proof. This meeting is adjourned.

Whispers rippled through the stands as the council members filed towards the door. A suffocating cloud of fear rose into the air. The audience was shaken.

It wasn't enough.

Nora slumped. Her disappointment echoed through the whole auditorium. I tugged gently on her sleeve. "It'll be okay," I said. "We'll find some other way."

I wasn't sure I believed that at all. But who was I, if not kind to those in need? Sometimes reassurance was more important than the truth.

"Right. Yeah. We will. We always do." She sounded like she was trying to convince herself.

She took a deep breath and turned to River. "Hey. You okay, buddy? I know you hate this stuff."

River shook out her fur. She still hadn't let go of my paw. "Yes. I'll be alright." She dipped her head at us gratefully. It was a very formal gesture. "Thank you, friends."

A thundering Crash made us all jump.

A collective gasp filled the air as a door on the far side of the auditorium flew open. The scent of outside air blew in. A man stumbled out onto the floor with a bundle was in his arms.

Ira looked ready to explode. "Does nobody respect the sanctity of these meetings?"

"Nope," Nora muttered.

"Please," the man croaked. "We need help. I didn't know where else to go."

He set the bundle down gently and crouched over it to peel back the fabric. I realized that it was a kid. A kid who, judging by scent, was very, very sick.

A kid with a gaping black wound on his chest.

I recoiled. No.

Not another one.

A matching wound stained the chest of the man. His forehead was slick with sweat. His lips moved but no sound came out.

Finally, he spoke.

"The beast. In the forest. It's come for our souls."

Chapter Eight

At least it's better than nothing, I offered weakly.

I guess. I just don't see how banning entry to the woods is gonna make it go away. Kinda feels like sticking our heads in the sand and hoping the problem disappears, Nora said.

Perhaps it'll starve if there's no people to feed on, River mused.

Maybe.

Last night's incident was very public. At least a hundred people had seen it go down.

It wouldn't stay a secret for long.

So—as reluctant as they were—the council had the proof they'd needed. Though they were way less helpful than I had hoped they'd be. All they'd decided to do was pass one weak emergency law that prohibited unnecessary travel through the woods. We'd protested, of course—passive action wasn't enough.

They needed to stop the creature before it got worse. There was no way it would give up that easily.

Nobody listened to us.

"Be grateful for what we're giving you," Ira had scolded. "I still don't believe this is needed."

"How?" Nora exploded. "You've seen three people saying the same stuff! Three! Not even including us! How do you still not get it?"

He waved her away dismissively. She looked like she wanted to clobber him.

Now—as kids flowed past me on their way down the hall—I still couldn't get it out of my mind.

My chest had felt tight all day. Every little sound made me jumpy. I was edgy beyond belief, and as the day went on it only seemed to get worse.

I couldn't stand still. I paced the school hallway.

Classes were done for the day. Where was Michael? He'd asked me to meet him during lunch. Why wasn't he here?

The longer I stood around doing nothing, the more I had to face my own thoughts. I didn't like being left alone with my thoughts. It was like being left alone with a starving lion.

I'm hungry, I complained. Why am I always hungry?

Maybe because you never eat anything? River suggested. I have literally never once seen you bring a lunch to school.

That's because I always forget.

Perhaps—and this is only a suggestion—you should stop forgetting.

My tummy rumbled. Yeah… good idea. I gazed longingly at an abandoned burrito on the floor.

Oh, no. Starheart, don't you dare, Nora warned.

Aww, c'mon, what's a little cheese off the floor? I joked. Mmm. Nice and dusty.

Ahem, as your magically appointed guardian, it is my job to stop you from doing insane things. Specifically things like this. So, stop it. Bad Starheart. No.

I like the implication that your entire job is to stop me from eating old burritos off the floor.

Well, that's not all we do, Nora said. Sometimes we have to stop you from eating old pizza off the floor. Y'know, for variety.

I groaned. Oh, no. I totally forgot I did that. In hindsight, you guys being real makes a lot of my memories much more embarrassing.

Aww, it's okay, River chimed in. I won't tell anyone about the time you ate grass.

You've really gotta stop eating freaky stuff, dude, Nora said.

Maybe I would if I wasn't so darn hungry all the time.

Their teasing was a welcome distraction. Hearing their voices made my heart calm down, even if my head didn't.

I rubbed my face, then frowned. It felt weird with my snout gone. One unfortunate side effect of my nightly transformations was that I experienced phantom sensations during the day. I kept forgetting my tail really wasn't there.

I was always so cold now without my fur. Was it always this cold? Had the world always been this quiet and odorless and dull?

The Shadow was still gone. I hadn't seen it since it attacked. It should have been a comfort.

It wasn't.

How could it be, when it was out there stealing lives?

How could I rest easy if it knew?

"There you are!" I cried as Michael rounded the corner with Max in tow. "Where've you been?"

"I spilled my pens all over the floor." Michael made a face. "Today is not my day, let me tell you."

"Are you alright? Can I help?" I asked. My grip on my backpack strap tightened.

"It's cool. I was exaggerating. You can't fix everything, you know."

"I can try." I grinned.

He suddenly facepalmed. "Oh, come on! I left my water bottle in the class. I gotta go back and get it. Wait for me?"

"Of course!"

He sprinted away at a reckless speed.

Max shuffled a little closer. "Hi."

I smiled at him. "Hello! Did those kids bother you again at all? I can talk to them for you."

"N-no, that's alright. They left me alone." He fell silent.

Why's he looking at you like that? Nora asked.

Hmm? Like what?

Like you're a cookie and he wants to eat you.

I—what? What kind of cookie?

Huh? Why does that matter?

Never mind. Hungry.

The analogy was colourful, but she was right. He was giving me a funny look.

"I wanted to ask you something," he said. His face was hard to read. Was he mad? Scared? Sad? It was impossible to tell without scent cues. How did people live like this? I couldn't even hear his heart rate.

Oh no, Nora said.

The heck do you mean, 'oh no'? You're being very ominous today, Miss Disembodied-Voice-In-My-Head.

Max shuffled his feet. He wouldn't meet my eyes. "Do you think maybe you might want to… go to the dance with me?"

I was confused. "I thought we already decided to do that the other day."

"I—well, I mean, yeah, we're all going as friends. But maybe we could go as… more than friends? I really like you."

Oh. Oh dear.

That wasn't what I wanted! I hadn't been trying to send him the wrong messages! I'd just wanted to be nice! Besides, we barely knew each other—how could anyone possibly fall in love that easily?

That's what 'oh no' means.

Help! I cried.

Ack! What do you want us to do? I don't know what to say! River panicked.

Say something! Or… uh… oh, man… Nora trailed off.

Tremendously helpful.

He was looking more and more crestfallen the longer I stayed quiet.

Don't screw this up, Starheart! Don't chase off one of your only friends!

"Max, look," I began gently. His face crumpled into grief. It felt like a knife in my heart. "It's nothing against you.

You're really wonderful and cool and amazing! Anyone would be lucky to have you. It's just that…"

I stared at the ceiling, debating whether or not to tell him the truth. I didn't think he'd take it badly, but you could never be too cautious.

I decided to go with honesty. He seemed safe enough.

"I'm gay."

"Oh. Really?"

"Yeah."

I didn't need my snout to tell me how potent his embarrassment was.

I hadn't lied, but it wasn't entirely the truth, either. The confusing reality was that I had never actually had a crush on anyone before. Not ever. Not even a little bit.

In all honesty, some days the concept of romantic love felt like an elaborate prank by everyone around me. I knew something had to be wrong with me. I was seventeen—far too old to be a 'late bloomer'. I did my best to ignore it, but it had gotten more and more difficult to do so as time went on. The idea of romance was everywhere. You couldn't go five minutes without hearing about it.

Nobody else really seemed bothered by it. They didn't seem to even notice.

I did, though. When one is inexplicably missing a 'fundamental human emotion' that everyone else effortlessly understands, it's very difficult not to feel lonely.

I knew I wasn't straight. I knew that even if I did feel the way I was supposed to, I wouldn't like boys. A strange sense in the back of my mind told me that. It was easier to call myself a lesbian. It was the closest word I had. It felt right.

But it also felt very, very wrong.

"I'm sorry."

"Not your fault. Look I—I'm gonna—I need to go." He disappeared into the stream of students filing out the door.

My heart sank. Oh, man. I'm never seeing him again, am I?

Give it time. He'll come around, River said.

I really hope so.

There was nothing I hated more than losing friends. Especially if it was my fault.

Michael came crashing back around the corner, breathless and clutching his water bottle. He stopped when he saw me.

"Whoa, are you okay? Why do you look so sad? Where's Max?"

I sighed. "It's nothing."

He didn't look convinced, but he dropped it. We parted ways at the front door, Michael heading to his car and me trudging off towards the buses. My head was tangled in a web of thoughts. Why did he like me, of all people? I'd never really imagined myself as the kind of person who could be loved that way. I was too… well, murky.

He probably didn't know any better.

I stared at the gross stain on the seat in front of me as the bus rumbled away. Could I have handled that better? Was he going to be angry with me?

Part of me wished I did feel the same way. That I even could. I wished I could spare him the pain.

I feel awful. I fiddled with my phone.

You did the right thing, River soothed.

But I hurt him.

Sometimes we find ourselves in awful situations where someone ends up hurt no matter what we do. One of life's curses. All you can really do is be honest.

Besides, Nora added, You were super nice. That was, like, the sweetest rejection I've ever seen.

The trees outside the window were little more than green blurs. I wish I was as nice as you think I am.

Why wouldn't you be? River sounded confused.

I didn't trust myself to answer.

The bus hit a speedbump and sent me flying at least three inches off the seat—yowch. Cool, fresh air poured in from the top of the cracked open window. Pleasant birdsong was carried on the wind.

It was, by all accounts, a perfect day. I'd normally do my best to enjoy it—it was not the kind of day to waste on bad vibes.

Today, though, my thoughts were relentless.

I shifted uncomfortably. On the days where my mind reared its ugly head, it was difficult to relax. I was plagued constantly by a nagging anxiety in the back of my mind, even when I wasn't directly thinking about the source of it. I'd fall into all sorts of nervous habits: tugging at my hair, blasting my music, picking at the little bumps on my skin until they bled.

Talking to my friends always helped. But there were some things I couldn't tell anyone about. Not even them. Not if I wanted them to stick around.

They're too good for you, my cruel voice whispered.

Do you think it's bad? That I've never liked anyone, I mean. I traced the window frame with a finger.

Bad? No. Unusual… maybe, Nora mused. Might wanna look into that.

How?

Search it up. Ask around. I'll bet you anything other people feel the same way. Maybe there's even a word for it.

I swallowed hard. What if there isn't?

Then we'll make our own word. They can't tell us what to do.

Nora, who is 'they'? River asked.

Y'know, society. Mean people. Anyone who thinks they know us better than we do. Her voice grew gentle. I know it's scary feeling like you're all alone in something. But I promise you, you never are. It's a matter of looking in the right places.

I breethd a sigh of relief. Thanks.

Always.

The only people I could ever envision myself spending my life with were Nora and River. But that was different—of course it was.

Wasn't it?

Yeah. It was.

I got my backpack snagged on the door of the bus while getting off and nearly fell into a puddle. The slap of my shoes against the pavement echoed down the street as I ran home. Mrs. Newton—my elderly neighbor—waved at me as I raced past. I skidded to a stop and greeted her with a breathless hello.

I was inevitably roped into helping her water her flowers. It would've been rude to say no. I would've been a very bad person if I didn't help out an old lady with a bad back.

I was not a bad person. No, I was not. I held myself to the highest moral standards.

It was the only way I knew how to exist. If I wasn't constantly vigilant, I might slip up. I might do something wrong. And if I did something wrong, I'd have to wonder if I wasn't as good of a person as I wanted to be.

I couldn't even think about that possibility.

I got home at least half an hour later than I'd planned, out of breath and covered in dirt. Mom looked at me like I'd crawled out of my grave.

Quick as I could, I explained the delay. I was so impatient to get upstairs with my laptop it made my skin itch. I've never needed to research something so badly in my life!

"What's got you so worked up?" my mother asked, opening a boring looking beige envelope.

"Nothing. Just… homework, I guess. Gotta get ahead of the tests!" I tripped on the stairs.

"Good idea!" my mom shouted.

I locked the door behind me and swept my faux tail off to the side as I sat down on the bottom bunk. I pulled my laptop out, flipped up the lid, and froze.

Um. Right. What exactly am I supposed to search up? How do you define the absence of something?

Try 'lack of attraction' to start, River suggested.

I typed it in. Most of the results were completely useless, but something lower down caught my eye.

Asexuality: What Is It?

Intrigued, I clicked the link.

I only had to read the first few lines before I was sure.

Guys! I excitement was bursting through my voice. Look! That's it!

Dude, no way! Nora cried. You too?

I was taken aback. You're asexual?

Yeah? Oh c'mon man, really? Is there anything they didn't censor?

There were some things. Millions of people across the globe know you're a lesbian.

Good, I'm glad that's common knowledge.

River was silent for a minute. …I may also be asexual.

Seriously? Nora exclaimed. Is anyone here allosexual? Anyone at all?

Nope, I said.

Not to my knowledge, no, said River.

Well, gosh. Nora's voice shook with barely-contained amusement. I guess we'd better… embrace it! Get it? C'mon, I'm hilarious.

I laughed so hard I choked on my own spit and doubled over coughing.

See, Starheart understands.

I just—wow. River sounded slightly horrified. My goodness. I didn't realize people actually felt that way. And about other people, no less. Strange.

Very strange, I agreed, recovering from my near-death experience.

I stared at the screen for a moment, pondering this new revelation. Something was still missing. Not that the label was wrong, per say. It felt right—it most definitely was right. It just… felt like a piece of it simply wasn't there.

Because, of course, there was so much more to loving someone than that. Even the website itself said that asexual people were still capable of feeling romantic love. Which sort of brought me back to square one, considering my complete incapacity to feel romantic attraction was what had brought me here in the first place.

I hit the back arrow and scrolled up to the search bar again. I hit the backspace key and punched in:

Lack of romantic attraction.

I was hit by a wave of results. Dozens upon dozens of them. Every result had one word in common: aromantic.

That sounds awfully similar to asexual.

It was similar.

A person who is aromantic is someone who experiences little to no romantic attraction. They may or may not also be asexual.

I sat up so fast I smacked my skull on the wooden planks of the upper bunk. A hollow thunk rang out.

Do you think… I rubbed my aching forehead. I mean, could that be it? Do you think that's me?

No idea, Star. Nora sounded thoughtful. I mean, that does sound exactly like what you described. Only you can say for sure, though.

I huffed and flopped backwards onto the bed. This time I hit the back of my head on the frame. It was a miracle I'd never had a concussion. I wish it wasn't so complicated. I wish someone else could know for me, or, or I had some sort of magic ball that told me exactly which labels were right.

On paper, aromantic seemed correct. I'd never liked anyone romantically. That wasn't normal for my age.

How was I even supposed to know what romantic love felt like, though? Maybe I'd felt it before and simply didn't know. Maybe I'd wake up tomorrow and suddenly start loving people the right way.

Unlike with asexuality, something in me made me hesitate. A little voice in the back of my mind kept whispering, Are you sure? Maybe you missed something.

Perhaps I had missed something. Or perhaps I was simply afraid.

The thing was, the prospect of being fully incapable of feeling romantic love for another person was scary. If I couldn't feel the deeper kind of love everyone around me seemed to feel, wouldn't I end up lonely and sad and dying alone in a hospital at ninety years old with nobody to come sit with me?

Perhaps that's exactly the future you deserve, my mind whispered. Anyone who loved you would be someone you've lied to. Would you really do that?

These things take time, man, Nora said reassuringly. Maybe just sit with it for a while. Try it out and see how it feels. That's totally okay.

My shoulders relaxed. Gently, almost absentmindedly, I reached out and traced the edge of the printed-out photos taped to my wall.

Dozens of warm, kind eyes stared back at me. River saying hello to a butterfly. Nora pointing a sword at someone out of view and looking tremendously fierce. River reading beneath a tree. Nora looking happy. The two of them together, joining forces in some obscure piece of crossover fanart.

They were everywhere. Anywhere I looked in my room, it was impossible to take my eyes off them.

It was comforting, in a way. The sight of them made my breath come a little easier. It had never been hard to imagine them watching over me. The thought of it had brought me through my darkest days.

Though I'd never dared to imagine it was true.

I'd dreamed of it, sure. I'd always been prone to the occasional bored math class fantasy of them showing up at my house, or me stumbling across something strange and magical that brought us together. But it had always felt as unattainable as touching the sun.

Maybe the sun was not as untouchable as people thought. It was all around you—it smiled down on you during summer days and caressed your skin with the softest kiss of warmth.

I thought my friends were the same way. Long before we'd met, even before our bond had summoned them to Fable's Reach, they'd always been with me.

I didn't even want to envision the kind of person I would have become without them.

Not that you have to imagine, I hissed to myself.

The door to my room creaked open. I propped myself up on my elbows. "Mom?"

"Nope." Michael ran his fingers through his messy blond hair. "Just me."

"Oh! Hello!" I struggled to hide my surprise. He'd never come to my house before. I wasn't even sure how he knew my address.

"Hey. Your mom let me in." He squinted and stepped back. "Geez, your room is overstimulation central. How do you live like this?"

"Better than boring, plain walls!"

"Debatable." He nudged a small, plush version of River with his toe. I scooped her up and booped her little nose.

D'aww, almost as small as the real thing!

Nora, please, I'm not that short.

I bit my bottom lip. They really did make it impossible to keep a straight face sometimes. "So! What brings you here?"

He sat down next to me. He had to hunch over to fit. "I dunno. You seemed sort of upset. I wanted to make sure you were okay."

I hugged Tiny River closer. "It's no big deal. I can manage."

He studied me. "That doesn't mean you're okay."

That made me pause. Why did he care so much? Why did my feelings matter at all to him? It felt strange that another person could truly, genuinely want me to be happy. Especially one who knew so much about me.

But his eyes were honest. Concerned, even. Maybe he didn't know. Or maybe he didn't care.

Either way, it dislodged something deep inside me. Something load bearing. A wave of emotions came crashing down.

Exhaustion, from all the hiding.

Fear, from the Shadow.

Love, oh, so much love, hope, joy, from meeting my friends, knowing them. It filled me from head to toe until I was warm inside.

That sick, twisting dread that came from the monster in my mind. The one I worked day and night to keep in check.

I wanted to trust him.

"Have you ever had something so incredibly unbelievable happen to you that you can't tell anyone?" I asked.

"I…" He scratched the stubble on his chin. "I can't say I have. I thought I saw a ghost once, but it was just my grandma's cat knocking over a mug."

I took a deep breath. "This is bigger than that. Much bigger."

He looked concerned. "Are you in danger?"

The Shadow flashed through my head again. I shuddered. "I might be. If this keeps getting worse."

Fear filled his eyes. I didn't give him a chance to speak. The words were flowing out of me like water from a dam.

"I go places. In my sleep, I mean. There's whole entire worlds out there that most people can't even imagine, and I've been there." I jumped to my feet. Panic alarms were going off in my head—stop, stop it, this is a bad idea!—but it was too late to stop. I was a semi truck with brake failure barrelling down the highway. "I have friends there."

I gestured wildly at my poster-covered walls. "They're real. All of them. A-and they talk to me in my head, I can hear them, but everyone is in danger, and I don't know how to save anyone, let alone myself. I'm… scared. I'm just one stupid fox."

He sucked in a breath. "Isabella…"

I flinched. "That's not my name, either."

"I… okay, what should I call you, then?"

My hand went slack and Tiny River fell to the carpet. "Star. My name is Star."

He stared at me for an uncomfortably long time.

Finally, he spoke. "You hear voices?"

"Well, yes, but it's not like that—"

He looked uncomfortable. "Have you told anyone about that? Someone who isn't me, I mean."

Frustrated, I thrust my hand at him and pointed to the still-healing scab on my palm. "If it wasn't real, I wouldn't have gotten this. Anything that happens in the dream is directly reflected on my real body. How do you explain that?"

I was breathing hard. The silence in the room felt crushing.

"Look—I—I don't know how to help you. I think you should talk to one of the school counselors or something."

I slumped. "You don't believe me?"

"I believe you believe it. I believe you're seeing something. I just don't…" He sighed. "I think you're hallucinating, maybe. I don't know."

My heart dropped. Of course he'd think that. What was wrong with me?

He grabbed his backpack off the floor beelined for the door. "I need to go." He hesitated. "Take care of yourself, alright? I'm sure someone knows how to fix it."

And then I was alone.

I sank to the floor. My knee crushed Tiny River's tail.

Oh, man. I'm so stupid. That was so stupid. I buried my face in my hands.

Hey, don't say that, Nora said kindly. You did your best.

He thinks I'm completely insane, and I don't blame him. Why did I think that would work?

It's a complicated situation, River said thoughtfully. Several life changing events have happened to you in the span of a few short days. Of course you'd want to share that.

Though… I suppose it is rather difficult for one to wrap their head around. You never believed in us until you saw it yourself.

I smiled sadly. Yeah. Even then I almost didn't.

In the span of one day, I'd managed to drive away both Max and Michael. The only two friends I'd had since everything had happened were gone. I felt like a walking disaster.

Why am I so good at chasing people away?

You've still got us, huh? Nora said lightly. We're not going anywhere.

No, added River. We're not.

We're magically bound, aren't we? I pointed out. You never had a choice in this. My chest tightened again.

There's always a choice, my friend. Nobody is forcing us to speak to you. You summoned us to our world, yes. That is all. If we didn't like it, we could break the mirror and be done with it. But we don't. River's unique way of speaking meant her voice often bounced between strangely flat and over-animated. It was particularly pronounced today.

But… why?

You've tricked them into liking you.

We're friends, said Nora. Is that not a good enough reason?

You don't think I'm… awful?

Of course not! Why would you even think that?

I sighed. Paranoia, I guess. I buried my face in Tiny River. Her little ear tag scratched my cheek. Thanks.

For what?

For everything.

The rest of the night passed in a haze. My mom asked her why Michael had left in such a hurry. I grunted something about a family emergency and didn't elaborate.

"Are you feeling okay?" my dad asked with a frown. "You seem upset."

"Ugh, Dad, don't. She's gonna get all annoying again." Emily rolled her eyes.

"I'm not annoying," I protested. "Being kind isn't annoying! It's a good thing! It's the best trait a person can have!"

"See what I mean?"

I ignored her. I turned to my dad and said, "I'm totally fine! Just tired, I think. Sleep is very important. How was your day? Just as wonderful as mine, I hope!"

Emily muttered something rude. Mom silenced her with a glare.

I spent the next few hours spouting extra-cheerful words to make up for my slipup. It seemed to work. Nobody asked me if I was alright again.

Finally, finally, nine P.M hit. Late enough to go to bed. Much earlier than I was used to, admittedly—I'd always had the habit of staying up until midnight.

Not anymore. I didn't want to waste a minute.

Pushing the excitement from my mind, I felt my heart calm down. My limbs went heavy. The gentle background whhhrrrrrr of the air purifier filled the air. My consciousness faded. All went quiet.

A moment later, I stumbled out into a world of… darkness?

That wasn't right.

In fact, it felt very, very wrong.

My fur stood on end. I bared my sharp teeth instinctively. Sniffing the air, I got nothing but rot and death.

The darkness in front of me gathered, forming itself into a shape that radiated pure menace. Glittering red eyes reflected hate.

"Back so soon, little fox?"

Chapter Nine

Get away." I snarled, but the tremble in my tail betrayed my fear.

The Shadow rippled with laughter. It narrowed its blood-filled eyes.

"You wanted me here." It took a step forward. Its sword-sized claws gutted the ground.

"I didn't," I growled. "I didn't do this. This isn't my fault."

A rumble filled the air. It was growling back. "It is your fault. It's always your fault."

Every instinct inside me was screaming at me to run. The only thing keeping my paws glued to the dirt was the wild hope that I could fix this, if only I knew why it was happening.

"I haven't done anything wrong."

"Liar. You foul-mouthed, cold-hearted, worthless liar. You know you have. Your mind won't let you forget."

I stiffened. The beast seemed to swell with self-righteous anger.

The same poisonous feeling flared in my head. Not now. I can't do this right now.

"I don't understand," I cried. "Why? What did I ever do?"

The Shadow's smile cracked wider. Wide enough to show me all its teeth. Wide enough to split its misty head in half.

Its voice rose into a roar. "You know what you did!"

It slammed a talon into a nearby tree. The trunk creaked and snapped, wavering in place. For a moment, it looked like it would hold.

And then it fell directly on top of me.

I moved faster than I'd ever moved before. The trunk barely missed me. It ripped out a few hairs from the tip of my tail.

"You pathetic, selfish creature! You know exactly what you did!"

I bolted. The ground shook as thundering footsteps chased after me. Hot breath stung my back.

Its voice echoed through the dead forest, coming from everywhere and nowhere all at once.

"I will haunt you worse than your own mind. You can't run from me. You can't run from what you've done."

The eerie, sudden calmness in its tone made my heart stall.

Invisible branches scratched my eyes. My shoulder clipped a tree and I almost went sprawling. My heart was trying to escape my chest.

It doesn't know.

It knew. It knew. How stupid was I, thinking I could hide it? Scum like me always got what they deserved.

Always.

An inhuman roar shrieked behind me. It echoed through the forest, an unholy cry of death and hate. Teeth snapped centimeters above my spine. Blood roared in my ears.

I could see the line ahead where the darkness stopped. The Shadow was gaining on me, hurling violent threats all the way. I willed my legs to carry me faster, faster, faster. If I slammed into a tree now, I'd surely break my skull.

Claws swiped painfully at my tail as I bunched my muscles and leaped. I landed painfully in the dirt, head over paws, crashing to an awful halt in the space where the light began.

I didn't stop to check behind me.

Scrambling for purchase among the leaves, I tore away as fast as my burning limbs would carry me. The scent of blood filled the air as the scab on my paw pad split open again.

I had stumbled into a nightmare. I wanted to throw up. It couldn't be real. It just couldn't be.

Of course it's real. It was bound to happen eventually.

I crashed out of the trees into the meadow. Seafern—who'd been resting peacefully in the grass—jerked away in surprise. They roared questioningly as I barrelled past in a blaze of orange fire.

I failed to stop in time and slammed into the back door. I clawed desperately at the handle.

My heart dropped. It was locked.

Seafern roared again. This time their voice had a new note of panic.

I scratched at the door frantically. My claws left deep gouges in the bare wood. A terrified whimper escaped my throat.

Wind parted my fur as the panicked dragon flapped their wings.

I'm going to die out here!

The door swung open.

"What the—" Nora was interrupted by me almost knocking her over.

"Close the door!" My ears were pinned flat against my skull.

I heard her heart speed up. She didn't stop to ask questions. She slammed the door shut and threw the lock.

I jumped to my feet again. "It's going to kill us!" My mind was edging closer to hysterics. I was shivering all over. River skidded into the hallway, her fear adding to the bitter cloud of dread in the room.

My chest was heaving. I dug my claws into my ears. "It knows. It knows everything. It's going to ruin everything. It's here—"

"Starheart—" Nora reached out.

"…tried to kill me…"

"Starheart!" Nora squeezed my shoulder. The pressure snapped me back. "Deep breaths, okay? Everything's totally fine. Nobody can get in here. You're safe."

I drew a few shuddering breaths.

"There you go. That's it. Everything's okay." She was concerned. "Are you hurt? What happened?"

"I-I'm fine. I think. I don't know. The portal spat me out right in the middle of the woods. The Shadow…" I shivered again. "I think it followed me."

Seafern's furious roars were distinct even through the thick wooden walls.

Nora's eyes widened. "Wait here." She made for the door.

"Wait!" River cried. Her white-tipped ears were almost as flat as mine. "What if it's still there?"

"I need to make sure Seafern's okay." She glanced at the small window set into the back door. It was impossible to see anything through the cloudy glass. "I'll be fine. I've got a sword. You two stay here, alright? I'd feel better if you were safe."

River reluctantly agreed. Her tail curled between her legs as Nora shut the door behind her.

I stood frozen in place. My paws tingled. What if she didn't come back? What if she ended up like Catrina, or that boy and his father from yesterday?

The thought of Nora suffering such a horrible fate made my blood freeze.

Please come back. I don't think I know how to live without you.

Of course Nora would be fine. For all she'd survived throughout her story, this would be a very underwhelming way to go out.

This is real life. Things don't always end perfectly. Someday you're going to hurt her, too.

Quietly, River drifted closer. Our fur touched. I leaned into her without a second thought. I felt so much safer that way.

We stood there for who knows how long. The only sounds were our terrified hearts beating in time.

She's dead because of you.

The door swung open.

"Nothing there." Nora's already wild hair was even more dishevelled than usual. She didn't smell hurt. "But man, Fern's panicking. They definitely saw something."

I attacked her with a hug. River joined me. All three of us nearly collapsed.

Nora ruffled the fur between my ears. "What're you freaking out for? I told you I'd be fine."

"I'm really glad you're okay." Her shirt muffled the sound of my voice.

"I wouldn't leave you guys like that. Someone's gotta stop you dorks from getting murdered. Though, yeah, I guess I'm probably the most likely one of us to end up on someone's murder list. Wouldn't be the first time."

River squeaked. "You were on a murder list?"

"Long story."

I pulled away. The bared teeth and flashing eyes of that thing kept flashing through my head. My tail still stung where I'd been scratched. A moment slower and I'd have been dead.

How many close calls did I have left in me? Every interaction with that awful beast seemed to suck the hope right out of my spirit. I couldn't allow myself to crack. People needed my happiness. I needed them to need me.

I was not a burden. I did not think of myself that way. I'd rather be a tool—a kind, generous person who boosted the spirits of everyone around me. Yeah. That sounded good.

Oops. My friends were watching me. Expecting me to say something, maybe?

Right: "I'm sure you're right. Everything's fine! I got away, didn't I?"

Yeah, that sounded good. That was great. I was doing great. There was no way they'd notice.

Well. Except if River smelled me, of course. My fear scent was still stinking up the air. And if my stupid tail wouldn't stop drooping—

"Why don't we go upstairs?" I cried. "Good idea, Starheart! Great idea! Let's go!" Without waiting for an answer, I turned and ran up the stairs.

"Starheart, wait!" River called. "Your portal's in the woods, right? How do you plan on getting home?"

I froze at the top of the steps.

In all my panic, I hadn't considered that.

My demeanor cracked. Faltered. I sagged like a sad, dying plant.

"I don't know."

Nora grabbed my shoulder again, much more gently this time. "Why don't we sit down for a while," she suggested.

Nora's room was even more chaotic in person. A strange stain that looked horribly like blood was splashed on the ceiling. A dagger was stabbed through the wall. There was a hideously terrifying panting of a clown hidden behind the door.

A small bed and desk were pushed against separate walls, both with various cracks and slash marks. The bed was home to a small stuffed bear with the flag of Argentina sewn onto his sweater.

Those were all normal. It was the new additions to the room that caught my eye—a trans flag nailed above the bed, and various rock band posters plastered to every available surface. Four or five small drawings like the ones on the fridge downstairs dotted the space between them, the quality and skill in each ranging drastically. Those hadn't been there in Dragon's Call. Either Nora had redecorated at some point, or it was even more censorship on behalf of the T.V network.

That was the least of my worries at the moment.

I was sitting at the end of the bed. My claws fiddled with the brass grommets on the flag, working in and out and all around. It helped. Sort of. Nora was across from me. She watched me with a mix of concern and curiosity.

River had parked herself on the floor—she was rocking gently and staring up at the ceiling. Her white-tipped tail twitched every so often.

I swallowed hard. "What am I supposed to do now?"

Nora rubbed her eye. "I don't know."

"Maybe if I run really fast, I can make it back—"

"You'll die before you make it halfway there," River pointed out the obvious.

I slumped. She was right.

"I mean, of course you can stay here with us," Nora offered. "It's not like you'll be homeless."

River nodded. "You can live in my room with me. I would greatly enjoy your company."

My tail thumped against the mattress. "I don't mind staying here at all! I don't even want to go home!"

River didn't look away from the weirdly bloody ceiling. "That may not be a good idea. Sooner or later your parents will notice you're not waking up. You'll end up in a hospital, and they won't keep your body alive forever."

I recoiled in horror. "I didn't even think about that."

"You've got at least a few months before that happens. I'm not sure what would happen to you in your fox form, but it's not worth the risk. Especially since we already know your fox form influences your earth one." She nodded at my scratched paw.

"Man. You living here seemed way more fun before River got all doom-and-gloom." Nora said dejectedly.

River ducked her head. "Sorry."

"Nah, you're good. That was a joke."

My ears pricked. "You like me being here?"

"Yeah, you weirdo! How many times do we have to tell you we like you before you actually believe us?" Nora chucked a pillow at my face. I squeaked indignantly.

As with Michael, the same old doubt flared in me. Nobody who really knew me could possibly want to be around me. I knew I'd leave myself behind in a heartbeat if I could.

It made me feel deceitful. Like I'd tricked them.

You foul-mouthed, cold-hearted, worthless liar. You know what you did.

I tensed. I didn't want to think about the Shadow. I didn't want to replay its words. Of course, my mind never seemed to listen to me. The foulest thoughts seemed to stick easiest in my brain, swirling and stacking together into an awful tower of misery so great I wished I could evacuate my own head.

Wasn't I a liar, by definition? Wasn't it right? I was tricking them. If I'd been completely honest with them from the start, they'd have ditched me long ago.

No, no, no. Good thoughts only. Nothing but good thoughts.

I slammed a steel wall down over the growing restlessness in my mind. Fought for control. It was an open wound—leave it alone, and it would heal. Poke at it and it would fester.

Nora and River were watching me with varying looks of confusion and worry. I realized I had my head clenched between my paws. My breath was coming sharp and fast.

Yeah. Fantastic job playing it cool.

I straightened up. Smiled. "I'm sure I'll find a way home eventually. Until then, why not enjoy everything here, right?" If the Shadow doesn't destroy it all.

River seemed satisfied with that. Nora squinted at me suspiciously. It made my fur prickle.

Of course she's looking at you funny. You sound downright insane.

"'Suppose you're right," Nora said eventually. She didn't look convinced by my sudden cheer in the slightest.

"Still don't like the idea of blindly trusting it's gonna go away, though. That's, like, the worst way to deal with something." She scowled impatiently at an ant scaling the wall.

"Whoever said we have to do nothing?" River blinked at her. "We could defeat it on our own. With the proper research and preparation, of course."

"Right! Yeah!" Nora sat up straight. A familiar eager recklessness had come to her eyes. "How do we do that?"

"Why are you asking me?"

"Well, y'know, you're the smart one."

River shook her head. "I'm no smarter than you two. I simply have specific areas of interest. Ask me about our world's history or magic and I could tell you whatever it is you needed to know. Anything else? Not so much. Ask Starheart, maybe. She actually went to high school."

I spread my paws helplessly. "I never pay attention. I'm failing social studies.

Besides, they didn't teach us stuff like this. The Alberta school curriculum doesn't have a How To Defeat Horrible Shadow Monsters 30 to 1 course. I totally would've taken that if we did. That sounds amazing," I added wistfully.

Nora slumped. "Nothing here, either."

"Gosh. This is always so much easier in stories. Everyone's always got a plan ready. The heroes don't really get stuck." I wrinkled my snout. "Maybe I'm not too good at this hero thing."

"Of course you're good at it." River met my eyes briefly, before looking away again. "You've survived the Shadow twice. You're getting the cool, magical adventure you'd always wanted. That's pretty heroic."

Admittedly, the idea of facing down unspeakable evil was a lot less appealing and a lot more frightening now that it was happening to me.

Does that make me a coward?

"But that's not heroic, is it?" I scratched one of my oversized ears. "Brave? Maybe. Cool and lucky and awesome? Absolutely. But heroic? Heroes save people.

They put themselves in danger to save others. I… haven't saved anyone." I sighed. "I wish I was heroic."

"Perhaps you've saved more people than you've realized. It's impossible to truly know what you mean to someone else."

My gaze dropped. River's words seemed to settle deeply into my mind, sending ripples through my memory. I hoped it was true.

"Well, hey! Who's hungry?" Nora practically shouted. River jumped.

I looked at her. "I mean, sort of—?"

"C'mon Star, you're always hungry! You said it yourself! No more sad! Only snacks!" She ran out of the room.

I stared after her. "What was that?"

River shrugged. "She's just like that."

Nora ran back in. "Come oooooon! Race you!" Her voice faded out as she disappeared again. There was a faint crash at the end of the hallway.

"Better catch her before she gets herself killed," River said with a yawn.

It was a painfully obvious attempt to distract me, but it worked. I laughed and chased after her.

I found Nora in the kitchen, her burst of sudden maniac energy having dissipated somewhat. River padded in quietly after us.

Nora stuck her whole head in the cupboard. "Yo, River! What happened to all our food?"

"You ate it all."

“Right. Um. Yeah. I did do that, didn't I?”

“Can't we buy more?”

“We're also out of money.”

“Did you eat that too?”

“Haha, hilarious.” Nora frowned and pulled out an empty jar with googly eyes glued to the lid. "Why do we have this?"

River took it from her. "That's Mateo. I've been looking for him everywhere."

"Hey, I remember that guy! Remember when he fell out the window?"

"He didn't even break!"

They both seemed to think it was hilarious. I wriggled between them and sniffed it. It smelled like old jam. Pretty par for the course for a jar.

"I love him," I whispered. "Wait, did you say we're broke?"

Nora shrugged. "Meh. We go broke at least once a week. Not a big deal. Just means we need to do more quests."

"Quests?" I perked up. "Like, magic quests? Magic quests with danger? Excitement? Adventure?" My tail was a blur.

Nora laughed. "Nothing that interesting, I promise. It's mostly chores people need help with. Boring stuff. Pays good, though."

River shuddered. "I had to squeeze into some guy's crawl space once. So much dust. So many weird smells. I think I saw a skeleton."

"If you don't get zapped here with some sort of preexisting business or skill, it's a pretty good way to get by." Nora shut the cupboard and turned towards the front door. "Y'know, if we hurry, I bet some of the good jobs will still be there."

"No more basements?" River asked hopefully.

"No more basements!"

I hurried after them and out the front door. "We're leaving?" It all seemed so trivial compared to what had just happened. My heart still hadn't calmed down.

Nora shielded her eyes from the sudden sunlight. "Any better ideas?"

"I guess not." My tail brushed the ground.

"Why don't we stop by the healers' while we're out? We could see how the injured are doing."

River sneezed. Nora glanced at her. "Hey, are you bringing that thing?"

She was still clutching the jar tightly. She blinked at it in surprise. "Oh, drat. I forgot. Give me a moment." She ducked back inside the house.

Nora watched her go. "Has anyone ever told her she talks like a small, Victorian child sometimes? It's cute."

"Oh, yeah. Adorable. Gosh, I love how sunny it is out. Maybe it's a sign! Today will be wonderful!"

Nora squinted at me again. "What're you doing, man?"

"What do you mean?"

"You came this close to getting murdered. I don't know how you're so happy right now."

"I'm being positive," I insisted.

"That's not the same thing as actually being okay."

I shifted my paws. I hadn't realized how bad I apparently was at this.

Great job. Now you've got her upset. Where does it end? When do you stop?

I needed to try harder. I could fix it. I wasn't going to be a burden. I wasn't a problem.

You're sure acting like a problem. Fix this.

"I'm okay. Really." I nudged Nora reassuringly. "I've got everything under control. I'm doing great."

That was perfect. Definitely the right thing to say.

Nora crossed her arms over her chest. "Alright, so maybe it isn't the Shadow. Is it something else, then? Something you maybe haven't told us about?"

Nora was practically radiating concern. It should've made me feel better. It should've made me feel safe.

It didn't.

It only made the creature of acid and death that lived in my mind throw itself against its chains. It strained and twisted and lashed out, sending shockwaves down my spine and throughout my whole body. My eyes stung.

I wanted to tell her about that monster. I wanted to let Nora know about everything it had done—all the sleepless nights, all the shed tears, all the little aches and pains in my chest that never seemed to fade. The way it sucked the life and energy right out of me if I even looked at it. I was so tired of fighting it all alone. Every day was a new battle in a war only I knew about.

But I couldn't. I'd created this curse myself, and telling my friends exactly how that monster came into the world in the first place would be a darn good way to lose them forever. I didn't know if I could survive that—some days I wondered if they were the only thing keeping the creature from consuming me entirely.

This was exactly what I deserved. The least I could do was not to drag those I loved into my perpetual self-made hell.

"I can't tell you," I said. "I'm sorry."

“That's okay." Nora's voice was so gentle. "You don't have to tell me if you're not ready. Just remember we've got your back, okay? We're always here if you need us. That's what friends do.”

"Thanks." It was a massive effort to keep my voice steady. "You're a good person."

"Aw, I'm nothing special." Nora waved a hand. "I wanna make sure my friends are okay, that's all. You guys mean a lot to me."

"I don't know. I think you're pretty special." I said.

The door swung open and River stepped out again, jar-free. "What'd I miss?" She looked at us quizzically.

"Nothin' much," Nora said. "Just hanging out. You ready?"

"Aren't we taking Seafern?" River asked as we started down the path.

Nora scanned the sky. "No, they took off a while ago. They were super panicked after what happened. I told them to fly it off. They're probably out catching a deer."

I didn't mind walking. Balance was only a kilometer or so away from the cabin—not far. I'd always enjoyed a good walk. The fresh air and birdsong were a welcome distraction from my thoughts. From weird little gnomes stealing cheese off knobby wooden windowsills to many-eyed, many-tongued spheres that shot acid, Fable's Reach always had something to catch my eye.

Okay, admittedly, that last one scared the life out of me. I audibly yelped when the sphere shot boiling green goo at my paws that burned and hissed in the grass.

"Oh, that's just Fred," said River. "He's harmless."

Fred licked me on the nose and hovered away.

At least he was friendly?

Forcing yourself to calm down was, as I quickly discovered, not all that effective. My thoughts were like stubborn weeds that dug their roots in deeper and deeper the more I tried to pull them up.

Nora stuck very close to me. Every so often she'd glance over at me, offering a kind word or a friendly smile. I didn't mind being doted on—it made my head feel a little less loud, my heart a little less heavy. The squirming, twisting doubt that came with it was still preferable to the ache of the beast.

Flitting movement overhead caught my attention. A raven was circling above. Its ebony-black feathers cast a shadow over my face.

"There's a lot of ravens around here, aren't there?" I conversed. "I keep seeing them everywhere."

River looked bemused. "There shouldn't be any ravens around here. They all disappeared after the witch hunts of 1604." Her eyes lit up again as she launched into an in-depth explanation of the whole conflict.

No ravens? That seemed off. I glanced up at the sky again. It was still there, watching me with beady black eyes. It gave a single, loud caw.

I tilted my head at it. Why are you following me?

It banked and swooped to land on the pebbles behind me. It hopped once and cawed again.

"Are you lost?"

Caw.

"I guess you don't know any other words, huh? You're a bird." I snorted. "Then again, I'm a fox. I probably shouldn't be talking either."

The raven bent down and grabbed a twig in its beak. To my amazement, it began carving something into the dirt. It looked like a word.

Hesitantly, I edged closer, hoping the bird wouldn't be scared off. It wasn't. It dropped the stick, jumped back, and stared up at me meaningfully.

It was a word. A single, lone word, carved into the dirt.

You.

The raven cawed one final time and took off into the trees.

Unsettled, I trotted to catch up with my friends. River was finishing a gruesome description of someone being squished to death. Nora was completely enraptured.

'You'? What did that mean?

Be more specific, bird!

Unless…

You know what you did.

I shivered despite the heat. It seemed like too much of a stretch. And yet those dark little eyes saw right through me. Like they knew too much.

Relax, I berated myself. It's just a silly bird. You're seeing demons everywhere.

"…And then she exploded!" River finished proudly.

Nora gaped at her in horror. "Where do you learn this stuff?"

"That's not even the seventh most awful historical death I know of. Wanna hear the first?"

"Yeah, that sounds sick—" Nora jumped back. Her sheathed sword jabbed me in the leg.

A small child had run out into the dirt road underfoot. She was chasing a big red ball that was probably half her size. As we watched, she tripped over a pothole and faceplanted. She immediately burst into tears.

Nora immediately crouched down next to her. "Hey, little guy. You okay?"

The kid kept sobbing.

The faint smell of blood was coming off her. "I think it's her leg," I offered, sitting next to her. Her little hand was curled protectively over her knee.

"Did you bump your knee?" Nora echoed. There wasn't a single hard edge in her tone. The little girl had melted her voice into something even softer than usual.

The girl nodded, sniffling.

"Can you show me?"

She didn't move. Gently, Nora took her hand and lifted her little fingers away. There was a tiny, nearly invisible scrape underneath.

"That's huge!" Nora exclaimed. "You must be pretty brave, handling something like that. I know I couldn't."

I couldn't stop my eyes from drifting briefly down to the scar on Nora's right leg. It was a long, jagged, brutal thing that stretched from her knee all the way down to her ankle, disappearing beneath the edge of her black high tops.

Nora had been through unimaginable things in the small window of her life I had been allowed to see. Far worse than this child could possibly comprehend. Yet her touch was gentle and her eyes were caring, and she spoke with a kindness that made the kid's tears dry in an instant.

"Here, I've got something that'll fix you right up." She fished a small bandage out of the side pocket of her cargo shorts.

I watched her curiously. "Do you always carry bandages everywhere?"

"Not usually. But I figured, hey, you're always getting banged up, you'll probably need one eventually." She smoothed the bandage over the girl's knee. "There you go! All better."

The girl had calmed down significantly. She pushed herself to her feet and toddled over to me.

I wagged my tail and the girl squealed with delight. "Kitty!" She grabbed a fistful of my chest fur.

Ignoring the pain—and the obvious lack of animal knowledge on the toddler's part—I gave her a wide mouthed smile. "I'm a very big kitty, aren't I?"

"Big kitty. My kitty."

"I think you're hers now," Nora told me seriously. "It was nice knowing you."

A Cartoon person with enormous antlers hustled out onto the street, looking frantic. Nora waved them over.

"Goodness," they gasped. "I'm getting too old for this."

Nora peeled the small girl off me and handed her to the stranger. "Keep an eye on her. She's fast."

The girl flopped and wriggled around in her parent's arms, reaching out to me. I gave her a fistbump, and she squealed with delight.

The deer person thanked us and went on their way.

River crept closer. "How do you do that? Deal with kids, I mean."

Nora shrugged. "Not that hard. I always had to babysit my cousins during family gatherings. You get used to them. They're just really small people with funny brains."

"I don't know. They seem so unpredictable to me." River shivered.

I looked at her. "You're scared of little kids?"

“Not scared. In fact, I think they're quite sweet. I wish I could spend more time with them. I'm just worried I'll make one cry.”

The wind shifted, bringing me the distant smell of rot. While so far away it was almost undetectable, it was enough to make both River and I shudder in unison. Maybe pickling up on our discomfort, Nora urged us on again. We didn't find any more kids, though I did see a few adults hanging around. Fable's Reach seemed quieter today. More fragile. Like yesterday's events had shaken everyone more than they liked to admit. The air in Balance was thick, warm, and heavy as we arrived.

Nora led us across the square to the Live Action side, where a wooden message board stood to the left of the council hall.

It was covered in all sorts of posters and messages: Help!! Lost cat!, Guitar lessons this Saturday, Give me your soul for I must feed, Help me fund the children's choir, and other various asks and offerings. A small corner of the board seemed to be dedicated specifically to job listings. There were only two posted.

Nora frowned. "Man. People get to these quick." She leaned closer. "Alright gang, do we wanna help Todd clear two thousand rats out of his basement, or do we wanna help build a fence?"

"Fence," River and I said in unison. We exchanged amused looks.

"Yeah, I gotta say, I'm not really in the mood for catching the bubonic plague. Weird." She straightened up. "Alrighty then. Back that way."

We marched on back into Cartoon County, taking a slightly different route that led us alongside the woods.

They felt more alive than usual. Darker somehow, despite the fact that the border into the Shadow's territory was far too deep to see. I couldn't shake the feeling of being watched. It left me perturbed and unsettled. I almost stepped on River's tail. The little grey fox's ears kept angling towards me, though she never met my eyes.

We stopped in front of a worn-looking cottage with blue shingles. Nora knocked on the door. I squeezed in next to her on the tiny steps. River hung back a bit farther.

A man who looked as weathered as his house answered. He told us all the supplies for the fence were already laid out in the back, and promised to pay us when we finished.

"Careful, ma'am," he warned Nora as he shut the door. "Somethin' is wrong out there. Ain't the work of any creature I know. Smashed up my fence while I was singin', nasty bugger…"

Nora shrugged off his strange behaviour the moment he shut the door. "Probably a scared moose or something. Animals can look freaky in the dark."

"I don't know, Nora." River wrung her claws as we headed to the backyard. "He seemed pretty upset. And the air smells off around here. Like something died nearby."

I had assumed the underlying odor of rot was just clinging to my fur after my encounter with the Shadow, but now I wasn't sure.

River wrestled with the gate, yipping a little when it sprung open and hit her in the snout.

The backyard was a complete mess.

Broken boards were strewn about everywhere. It was almost like they'd exploded—the dirt was freckled with tiny wooden splinters. The entire back fence had been blown apart with tremendous force. It looked like someone had driven a semi truck through it and then set off a bomb. In the centre of it all were long, deep scratches in the lawn like some poor creature had been dragged off against their will.

The three of us stood there in stunned silence.

"I don't think that was a moose," said River.

"Maybe it had a chainsaw," Nora joked half-heartedly.

Worry tugged at the back of my mind. There was something deeply wrong with this. The rot smell was even stronger out back. The pile of fresh boards and nails that had been set out in the corner for us seemed strangely out of place among the chaos.

"Guys!" Nora called. She'd crossed to the other end of the yard. "Do you think this is blood?" She was examining something hidden behind a fallen tree.

That was hardly what I wanted to hear. I picked my way across the yard much more carefully than Nora did—I didn't have any shoes to protect my paws from the thousands of wooden knives buried in the mud. Despite my caution, I still got a horrifyingly massive splinter buried between my toes and had to spend an agonizing minute working it out.

I finally made it a few moments before River did. Nora pointed at a half-broken board sticking straight up out of the dirt. It was covered in ominous reddish-brown splatters.

I sniffed it. The metallic tang made my lip curl. "That's blood, alright."

"Definitely," River agreed.

"Great," Nora muttered. "'Cuz that's exactly what we need right now."

A faint rustling noise made me lift my head. We were standing right next to the massive, gaping hole in the fence. It seemed to yawn ominously, bearing the trees of the woods behind it like fangs.

It went silent. A little too silent for my liking, maybe, but silent nonetheless. Maybe I'd imagined the sound. Or maybe it was a deer—

The rusting started again. Only this time, it was accompanied by a figure stepping through the trees.

Nora sucked in a breath and her hand drifted to her sword.

Concerned, I took a step outside the fence. "Are you alright?"

They didn't answer. The wind was blowing against my back, making it virtually impossible to catch a hold of their scent.

"You're not supposed to be in there. Didn't you hear?"

Still nothing. I ventured even closer.

"Buddy, I'm not so sure that's a good idea," Nora warned.

I flicked an ear at her in acknowledgement but didn't turn back. This stranger could be hurt, or lost, or scared, and I could never abandon someone in need. That would be wrong.

I was at the treeline by now. The person—still too bathed in shadow to make out anything defining—was a few meters farther in.

"Do you need help?"

"Help," the figure echoed. Their voice was raspy.

"Yeah, help! I can help you!" I extended a paw.

The wind finally shifted. I nearly stumbled back from the foul odor. The stranger reeked of the most horrible scent I could imagine—sickness, rot, and a touch of hopelessness.

It was the smell of the Shadow.

The stranger's eyes narrowed.

I had only half a heartbeat to feel afraid before they let out a blood-curdling scream and lunged at me.

Chapter Ten

I yelped as overgrown nails dug into my arms. I twisted and struggled, but the stranger was shockingly strong and I was still reeling from the unexpected assault.

Rough hands shoved me to the ground and beat my snout into the dirt. I gagged as soil filled my mouth. Pain flared in my elbow as the bone ground into a half-buried pebble. There was a cacophony of shouting above me. I was too disoriented to make out who it was.

Pressure bit at the base of my spine as the stranger grabbed my tail and began dragging me. Panicked and half blind, I clawed at anything I could reach. The stranger roared furiously as I felt flesh catch and tear.

It wasn't enough. They pulled me deeper into the trees.

An awful thump rang out and the pressure on my tail eased. I jumped to my feet and rubbed the sand from my eyes.

Nora stood protectively between me and the afflicted, sword at the ready. They rubbed their face where she'd punched them.

They looked furious. The black stain on their chest seemed to pulse with rage.

"Get back," Nora said. "I mean it. Stay away." Not a trace of fear showed on her face. It was almost frightening how formidable she looked with her blade catching the light.

Undeterred, the afflicted took another step forward.

Quicker than lightning, Nora struck with expert finesse. Dragonheart carved a long, thin gash of red down the stranger's cheek. They recoiled, more shocked than injured.

"Yeah, you bet I can do a whole lot worse than that. Beat it."

They hesitated. Only for a moment. Then they turned and fled back into the bushes.

Nora's furious facade dropped instantly. She immediately turned her attention to me, brimming with worry. "Geez, are you okay? Did they hurt you? Man, that looked painful."

I ducked my head in embarrassment. "I'm fine. Sorry. I should've listened to you."

"No, you're not." River appeared next to me.

It took me a moment to realize she meant not okay and not not sorry. "What?"

"I smell blood on you." Her tail twitched nervously.

On cue, my elbow started stinging. The fur was damp with blood. I'd scraped it harder than I thought.

"Aha, see, I'm a genius." Nora pulled another bandage out of her pocket. "Come here."

I shuffled closer obediently. My entire body ached with a dull pain, but my elbow seemed to be the only real damage done.

"Will this even stick to your fur?" Nora took my arm and carefully flipped it over. "Huh. Yeah. Not too well. Maybe I should've thought of that. Is it too late to retract my 'I'm a genius' comment?"

My tail drooped. "I'm sorry," I repeated.

"Don't be. I'm just glad you're okay." Nora patted my wounded arm. "There. All better. I should be a doctor. Wouldn't I be a great doctor, River?"

"Likely. But I'd prefer it if we got out of here as soon as possible. I don't feel safe." Her fur was spiked.

I agreed. My unease rose the longer we had to stay in the trees.

The warm breeze on my face as we stepped back onto the path was welcome. The woods were strangely chilly.

"Does this mean there's more of the afflicted than we thought?" River worried.

"I guess we'd better tell the healers they missed one," said Nora.

We took a confusing route between houses, shops, and the occasional stand, our fence building job completely forgotten.

A thought occurred to me. "Why did they attack me like that? I mean, if the Shadow made them violent, why weren't the others like that?"

Perfectly on cue, the sounds of a furious struggle pierced the air. We broke into a run without hesitation. I nearly fell into a hedge.

We rounded the corner and the healer's cabin loomed in front of me. A terrible sobbing came from behind the door.

Nora threw it open and all three of us burst into the building.

It was complete chaos. Pillows were strewn all over the floor. Bottles had been thrown about violently.

And the afflicted were at the centre of it all.

Catrina had one of the healers in a chokehold. Two other healers were hitting her with whatever hard objects they could find. She didn't even blink. The man—the one with his son from the previous day—had backed three terrified nurses into a corner. His son was already tied to a bed, screaming his head off.

All the afflicted had cold, dead eyes that dripped with hate.

The moment we stepped through the door, Catrina's attention snapped towards us. Her mouth twisted into a sneer, revealing stained fangs. Her eyes fell onto Nora, though they looked cloudy and distant.

Catrina screamed so loud her voice cracked. With terrifying speed, she leaped at Nora and slammed her into the wall.

My fur spiked. "Nora!"

"I'm fine!" she called, throwing the cat woman to the floor with a surge of strength. "Go help the others!"

River was already squaring off with the man, snapping at him. Her fluffy, almost adorable appearance had been completely replaced with the savage rage of a canine in full attack mode.

As fierce as she was, the man was still nearly twice her size. His massive, swinging fists came flying so close to her head that it made my blood freeze. He managed to land a hit on her, grinning gleefully when she yelped.

An ancient anger burned deep inside me. It was more familiar than an old friend, flaring bright and hot. It was the same old rage I'd spent countless hours trying to snuff out.

This time I didn't bother.

I leapt at him. My claws hooked into his shirt. I threw him onto one of the beds with a strength I didn't know I possessed. His skin was hot with fever, and his sweat dampened my paws. His swinging fists beat me, but I didn't loosen my grip. The tips of my claws drew pinpricks of blood on his shoulders.

You can't hurt her. Nobody can hurt her. The words came out as a meaningless, inhuman snarl.

He almost looked afraid.

Someone shook my shoulder. Though the black haze that blinded me, I barely heard River talking to me.

"Starheart, it's okay. I got him. You can let go." River sounded almost scared.

Logic returned. The man was bound. River had found a rope somewhere. I hadn't even noticed through my toxic fog.

My toxic, evil fog.

Sick, I stumbled back. "I—I'm sorry, I mean, I wasn't—I didn't want to hurt anyone—"

River looked worried now. "It's okay, friend. You didn't hurt him. He's fine."

I barely heard her. My whole body was trembling. The monster in my head was alive with the glory of it all, strutting around and foaming at the mouth. It revelled in the taste of my brutality.

See? it taunted. It's still there. You've hidden it well, but it's still there. This is you. The cruel, furious beast that attacks and fights and hurts. It's all you. Hate is in your nature.

I felt like puking. What's wrong with me?

River pulled me into a hug. "You're okay. It's all okay." Her violet eyes were so wide. Bewildered and concerned.

You really don't know, I realized. What would you even do if you knew what it was like inside my head? If you saw the mess that I really was?

I didn't think I could survive River being afraid of me. Especially not when I was already so afraid of myself.

"Dude, that was awesome!" Nora bounced over. There was a light scratch over her eye, but otherwise she looked no worse for wear.

At some point, she had knocked Catrina unconscious and had her bound and slumped against the wall. "You sent him flying, like—" she stopped. "Whoa, are you okay?"

Don't screw this up now, I berated myself.

I shook out my fur calmly. "Oh, yeah. Totally fine. Never better!"

River wrinkled her snout. "But—"

I turned to the healers. "Is everyone okay?"

Nobody smelled injured, but the air was thick with fear. Shakily, the healers checked each other over and helped each other to their feet. One woman wrangled a broom out of a closet and started sweeping up the broken glass that littered the floor.

A large frog who towered over me stepped forward. "We're fine." He wrung his webbed hands together and blinked his large, watery eyes. "Thank you for your assistance."

"Yeah, no problem, dude. What the heck was that?" Nora jumped away when the bound man tried to bite her.

The frog looked troubled. When had a giant talking frog stopped seeming weird? "Everything was normal this morning.

They were calm. They even talked to us a little. Then they all started shouting, and all chaos broke loose."

"Hopper took care of Carl pretty quick, though," the sweeping woman called.

The frog—Hopper—ducked his head bashfully. "I did what I had to."

River was fidgeting next to me.

"What, all at the same time?" Nora asked. "Like, on cue? Say, ten or so minutes ago?"

"Exactly then, actually." Hopper looked worried. "I don't like how quickly the disease is progressing."

There was a slight tug on the fur near my elbow. Quizzically, I turned to River. She motioned for me to lean down and whispered in my ear. I nodded.

"You don't have all of them," I said to everyone. "We got attacked out near the woods. Tried to drag me in."

Hopper's face darkened.

"It tried to drag you where?" Jerico's voice came from the doorway.

He'd come in at some point without anyone noticing. Wooden crates were stacked in his arms all the way up to his fancy moustache. He surveyed the trashed room with a grim expression.

"Back into the woods," I confirmed.

"That is quite troubling, indeed." He set his precarious stack down on the floor. "What could possess them to do such a thing?"

Everyone went quiet. Nobody wanted to be the first to bring it up.

"What're you doing here, anyway?" I finally asked when the silence became too unbearable.

"Ah. I've come to administer new treatments to the sick." He motioned to his crates.

"Is it working?" River asked hopefully.

"No." We all slumped. "But we must remain optimistic. This batch may very well be the one that does the trick."

There was a thump at the window. I jolted when I saw a night-black raven, scratching at the pane with its claws.

My chest tightened. Nobody else was even looking at it.

No—River's head was up. Her eyes were narrowed at the bird.

I quietly slipped away to the window. The raven met my gaze. Its caws were muffled by the glass. Its beady little eyes seemed to carry more intelligence than they should.

My fur grew much too hot and itchy. The bird had been interesting at first, but between River's fact that it shouldn't be here in the first place and the message it had left in the dirt, the corvid was starting to seem much more sinister.

Am I going crazy?

My claws dug into the bare, unpainted wood of the windowsill. The scratches were at home among the chips and dings it had received over countless years.

"That's not right." River materialized next to me.

I jumped. "How are you always so quiet?"

"Fox paws are special. Built for sneaking."

The raven pecked at the glass.

"What's it doing here?" River looked thoroughly baffled. "By all the laws of the current state of magic, it simply shouldn't be possible."

"Maybe you remembered wrong?" I offered hopefully.

River gave me a serious look. "Starheart. I live history. It's an integral part of my very essence. The only thing I really think about. If I misremembered, then something is seriously wrong with me."

I frowned at her. "Then how is this one here?"

Her gaze lowered. "I don't know," she admitted. "I'm not a bird expert. Maybe its sick or lost."

"But why would it follow me specifically?"

River's eyes sparked with interest. "It's been following you?"

I hesitated, unsure if I made a mistake. I trusted River with my life, but some deep, dark part of me was telling me that talking about this wasn't right.

Too late now.

"Yeah," I admitted. "For a while. I don't know why." I decided not to mention the raven's mysterious note. There was no reason to get all panicked over it, right?

It probably meant nothing. It could've easily been a dumb bird accidentally scratching something sort of word shaped.

"As interesting as this conversation is, can we save the birdwatching for later?" Jerico asked. "This is hardly the direst mystery on hand."

River looked like she wanted to object, but I was relieved by the interruption.

The building felt heavy and hot, and the air reeked of anger and infection. The afflicted hissed and cried from their beds. Even Nora seemed unsettled, though I noted that her fears seemed to manifest themselves as a high-energy need to fix things.

She never sat still. Even now she was rocking on her feet and tugging at her sleeves.

Jerico rubbed his eyes. "Concerning, indeed. I feel I must consult my library. Perhaps I have an old legend that can tell us more about this creature."

Nora brightened. "We'll come, too."

He gave her a stern look. "Absolutely not. You're children, and already far more involved in this than I'd like. Go home."

"Y'know, I am technically an adult," she huffed. "Just so you know. Legally and stuff."

"An adult you may be, but you're also still very much a child."

"That makes literally no sense. You know that, right?"

"Ah, yes, well, you'll understand someday."

"Hate it when people say that," Nora muttered.

He turned to leave. She stepped between him and the door. "You do realize that we're gonna get involved in this regardless, right? Like, you're not preventing anything."

He took a deep, annoyed breath. I had to admit that his patience was tremendous. The healers who were watching looked more upset than he did. "And I am quite serious myself. For once in your life, listen and keep yourselves safe."

"Why? It's not like anyone else is bothering to do anything important about this. Who found the Shadow in the woods? Who got the stupid council to pass their law?

Who found the afflicted in the forest? Us! And we're not dead! You've gotta admit we're at least slightly more capable than you give us credit for."

He glowered at her for a minute. "Fine."

"Yes! Thanks, dude!"

He half smiled. "You're going to regret this soon."

He was right.

Ten minutes later, we were climbing the ladder to the house above Jerico's shop. It looked like the living room back at the cabin multiplied by a thousand—books covered every available surface. Even the windows were blocked. The only light came from small, dim oil lamps.

"Ughhh, research. Isn't there a better way of doing this?" Nora nudged an old, moldy-looking journal with her foot. "I'd feel better if we actually did something."

"We are doing something," Jerico said. "All of history's knowledge can be found in here. I've been collecting tomes since I was younger than you. If any legend about the Shadow exists, it will be in here."

River looked starstruck. She ran her claws down the spines. "This place is magical. I could spend my life here."

He smiled at her. "You know you're always welcome. You could do just that."

Her happiness faded. "Maybe." She said it in a way that made me think it was definitely a no.

Jerico instructed us to bring down any and all books that had information on curses and monsters. It took half an hour to gather them all—there was a staggering number of books in that category. I made the grave mistake of pulling one from the bottom of a stack and at least three dictionaries hit me in the skull.

River was too short to reach most of them and had to enlist Nora for help. Nora made a big show of doing so, and soon they were both laughing too hard to be very much help.

When we were done, we stared at the mountain of books in horrified silence.

"It's taller than I am," River whispered.

"Everything's taller than you are." Nora didn't miss a beat. "But yeah, this'll take hours."

My head was throbbing. "Maybe we can make it fun! Oooh, like a game! I like games."

"Ah, no need," said Jerico. "Reading is quite fun on its own."

"You sound like a poster in an English classroom." Nora pulled the first book off the stack. "But hey, those things are never wrong."

She was right about it taking hours.

The first two weren't so bad. We worked methodically, flipping through books as fast as we could and swapping stories to pass the time. Nora told us about how she'd gotten the scar on her leg—a bit of her story that I was very familiar with, but one I still listened to with fascination. I shared the much less awful story of the time I'd swallowed a penny when I was six.

"I wanted to see what it tasted like," I explained.

Nora shook her head disapprovingly. "Starheart, I say this with as much respect as I possibly can: that sounds exactly like you."

"What did it taste like?" River asked curiously.

"Metal."

"Ah."

By the third and fourth hours, however, our spirits were dropping. My back ached, and nobody seemed anywhere closer to finding anything useful. My head was stuffed with information about flesh-eating toads and spells that made you vomit butterflies. (Why would anyone want that? Why was that even a thing?)

I had lost track of time by the hour it started getting dark. I was flipping through a book of supernatural monsters. I hadn't actually read anything in a long time.

The words were blurry and meaningless. My foot had gone completely numb. I shook it out, and the numbness was quickly replaced with that irritating pins-and-needles sensation.

I peered around the room at the others. None of them were looking up. Nora looked even more bored than I felt. Jerico looked at peace. River seemed invested in whatever she was reading, mouthing the words silently to herself and running her claws absentmindedly along the cracks in the floorboards.

I sighed a little. I was getting restless. I needed go home soon, and we were no closer to—

Oh. Right. I wasn't going home. For the first time, the realization hit me with a pang of homesickness. Living here had sounded a lot better in my head. I loved it here, of course, and River and Nora were my favourite people in the world. It was the darkness that was the problem.

As soon as the sun went down and the lights went out, my bad feelings seemed to find the space to creep in. At home, I had ways to cope. I had the T.V, my stuffed animals, and my mom's hugs. In strange places, I couldn't figure out how to drown out the sound. It was why I'd only ever gone to summer camp once.

My chest went hollow and my eyes stung.

There's no reason to be sad.

As if to answer me, a memory seeped through the cracks. One of an awful, awful day that ended in tears.

You could have prevented that.

Shut up. Not now.

It's true. Why should you be allowed to forget it?

A stomach ache flared. I scratched my snout. Maybe I should think about that instead. Maybe a distraction would work.

Okay. Snouts. Snouts are weird. Long noses. Not as long as an elephant's though. I can't imagine having a nose that long.

I remember somebody saying that elephants never forget. I wonder how they cope with that. Do elephants regret things?

Do elephants wish they could turn their minds off? Are elephants afraid of the past?

Frustrated, I stopped. It just brought me full circle like it always did.

My dread rose an octave. It worried me. I didn't want to spiral out of control here. Some days my thoughts got so bad I lost myself in the fear. I'd always locked myself away in my room when it happened. Nobody had to see me. Nobody ever had to know.

I wasn't alone here. If it happened, everyone would see.

Calm down, idiot. You're making it worse.

River's snout twitched a little. She glanced up at me.

What's that about? Why is she looking at me like that?

Thankfully, Jerico chose that moment to set down his book. "You three had best head home."

"We've still got half the stack," River protested.

"It's late. Starheart needs to leave soon, does she not?"

I looked away, finding myself lost for words.

"She can't go home," Nora explained for me. "The portal spat her out in the Shadow's nest. It's too dangerous to go back."

He looked stricken. "That shouldn't happen. Historically, the portals are locked to the guardian's location. They should be appearing near you."

I found it hard to be worried about that. It was yet another bullet in a long list of things going wrong.

"If I don't need to leave, then we can keep searching, right?" I asked. My limbs felt heavy and my mind was fuzzy with information, but I didn't want to stop.

He gave me a stern look. "No. You three go home. Take a break. I imagine it's been a hard day. I'll tell you the moment I find something."

Reluctantly, I nodded. "Okay."

"Hold on a moment. I have something for you." He disappeared down the ladder, each step creaking fainter than the last.

A few minutes later, he came back with a large paper bag. It smelled heavenly. I was definitely picking up cookies.

"Since I assume you're all probably out of food again," he said.

I hadn't realized how hungry I was. Between all our various crises and distractions, I hadn't actually eaten anything all day.

"Hey, thanks, dude!" Nora peered inside. "Look, River. We're gonna live."

"That's not good," she answered, distracted. She was looking at me again.

Jerico half smiled. "I've made a decision."

"Oh yeah? What's that?" Nora asked absently, still rooting through the bag.

"I'm going to help you in your quest to stop this."

That made all three of us look up.

"Seriously? Didn't you want us to stay out of it?" Nora looked baffled.

He sighed. "As the resident and only proper adult present, I felt like I should order you to stop investigating this and keep yourself safe. However, I also know you're impossibly insubordinate and would not listen to me regardless."

"Oh, yeah. That was always common knowledge."

"So, I have decided I'm going to assist you," he continued, ignoring her smirk. "Maybe it'll lower your chances of getting killed."

"I think you severely underestimate how good I am with a sword."

"On the contrary. It's exactly what scares me."

She shot me a look that said can you believe this guy?

"There is one condition." His gaze darkened. "And you must promise me on this."

The seriousness in his tone made my ears prick. He wasn't joking around.

"If, at any point, you start to believe your lives are truly in danger, you abandon the quest. You get out of here. And you never look back."

Chapter Eleven

I can't believe we wasted an entire day." My body felt heavy and numb.

"We didn't waste anything," River reassured me. "At the very least, we narrowed things down."

Sunset had fully arrived. The horizon was alight with a fiery glow that turned the clouds pink and the puddles orange. The air was cool and the bugs in the grass were singing their nightly ballad. The dirt road was refreshingly damp against my paws.

I almost couldn't stand it. The world looked undisturbed compared to how I felt inside. It felt like even nature was wearing a mask of happiness.

"I guess," I said. "I just wish we found something." I couldn't stop my tail from drooping this time. The monster in my head had been furious ever since this morning, and it left me too exhausted to even think about pushing it away. I let it happen. That was how it worked. Some days the monster won, and all I could do was survive. The only difference was I couldn't hide myself away like I usually did.

We crossed the front lawn. The grass felt nice. My human feet were always too sensitive to walk outside without shoes.

Paw pads were tougher. It was great not to worry about stepping on glass, too. That had happened to my sister once.

A black bird was circling overhead. Of course it was. Stupid thing never left me alone.

"Ugh." Nora sounded muffled behind the bag. It was ridiculously massive. "Riv, can you get the door? My feet don't have thumbs and I think we'll all starve if I drop this."

She did. It made a loud, squeaky sound that caused both of us to flinch. Nora—with her comparatively poor human ears—appeared unbothered.

The cabin was dark and cold. River flicked on the light. I wondered when that had happened—on T.V, the house hadn't had electricity.

Then again, it hadn't had a fridge or a working stove, either. Some things just changed, I guessed.

"No way! He gave us sausages! Haven't had those in ages. Sick." Nora dumped the bag out carelessly onto the counter.

I already knew there were sausages. The raw meat had been teasing my nose the entire way back. I'd never actually craved raw meat before. This form was full of surprises.

The front door had a small window set into it that I spent the next ten minutes peering out of. I could see the woods from here, too. The way they wrapped almost all the way around the cabin had grown much more unsettling.

I watched the sky grow darker and darker, until I could barely see anything at all.

"Hey, man." Nora came up next to me, snapping out of my half-numb stupor. "What're you looking at?"

"I don't know," I mumbled. "Aren't you helping River with dinner?" It occurred to me that I probably should've helped, too.

"Nah. Ever since I almost burned the house down and gave us both salmonella on the same day, I'm not supposed to cook anything."

I willed myself to laugh at that, or even just to half smile. All I managed was a sad little grimace.

She became much more serious. "How're you holding up?"

My head drooped, until it came to rest against the glass. "My mom probably noticed I'm not waking up by now."

That was an understatement. I should've left for school an hour ago. My body would be in the hospital by now, or at least on its way there. My poor parents had to be so scared. I felt like such a jerk for putting them through that.

"It's not your fault. You're making the best of a bad situation."

Funny how she could read my mind like that. Sometimes it seemed like she and River knew me better than I did. Then I'd remember all they didn't know, and Nora's sweet, kind tone turned bitter in my ears.

I sighed. My breath fogged up the glass. Nora drew a little frowny face in it.

"It's okay to be sad sometimes," she said. "Angry, too. Nobody can be all smiles all the time. Everyone needs a chance to feel a little screwed up."

"I feel a lot screwed up sometimes." The admission slipped out and I regretted it almost instantly—that was one of those personal, dark thoughts I didn't bother other people with.

She didn't look bothered, though. She gave me a sad smile and said, "We all are. Maybe that's why we're such good friends."

The room felt a little less cold standing next to her. "I guess it is," I said.

"We've got your back, dude. No matter what. You're not alone in this."

Steadying myself, I nodded. "Thanks."

"Of course."

I'd spent more than a year imagining what she'd say to me, if she was real. Countless hours of late-night yearning, hoping for a sign that maybe the people who made life worth living wouldn't hate me if they knew me.

This was better than anything I'd come up with. Something about her face and her eyes and her voice made the demons in my head go quiet. Being around her brought me a quiet peace I hadn't experienced in a long time. It was natural. Like somewhere I was always supposed to be.

River poked her head into the hallway. "Are you guys ready? I think I'm entering the second phase of starvation. I could eat you, Starheart."

I bared my teeth playfully. "Not if I eat you first!" I chased her into the kitchen. She squeaked with glee.

Dinner was uneventful, except for Nora managing to get a fork stuck in the ceiling. River talked for at least half an hour about different notable people who'd lived in Fable's Reach, including a man who was apparently named Tablecloth, which I found hilarious.

"No, I'm serious," she said when I laughed. "He was one of the ancient council members. His daughter was a pioneer in medicine."

"Really? What was she like?" I asked.

It was a simple question, but it made her whole face light up. She really seemed to like it when I asked questions like that. I made a mental note of it for later. There wasn't a lot that made River visibly excited, and I wanted to make the most of it.

"What now?" I asked. I licked the sausage grease off my plate. My wet pink tongue shot in and out of my mouth. "What do you usually do at night?"

Nora watched me, faintly amused. "I dunno, dude. Usually, we're watching over you. But now you're here, sooo… I guess we hang out? Do whatever?"

"Would you like to see my room?" River's striking eyes were hopeful. "I've got many interesting things. You can see my chicken."

I brightened. "Okay! That sounds fun! I've never seen that before!"

Her room was right next to Nora's. There were countless drawings stuck to the door—the same high-quality ones I'd seen around the house. I always knew River was an impressive artist, but they were even better up close. I even saw one of me in fox form before she opened the door.

Her room was a lot neater and way less chaotic than Nora's, too. There wasn't a single weapon stuck in the walls. There wasn't much of anything, actually. Not even a bed. Just a couple bookshelves, a pile of blankets and pillows in the corner, and a small stack of mossy sticks. There were a few potted plants and even more drawings on the walls, but that was it.

"I prefer sitting on the floor," she explained.

She crossed the room and dug through the blankets, coming back up with a small stuffed chicken in her paws. "This is Feathers."

I gasped and patted Feathers's little head. "I love her. She's enchanting."

"That's what I always say."

She set Feathers carefully back down on her pile of pillows before turning back to me to ask if I wanted to see more of her books. I agreed, and she started explaining how she organized them all by title.

Eventually—after she gave me a stack of books she insisted I couldn't live without reading—she dragged half her pillow nest across the room and made me one of my own. We quietly settled into our own places to read.

I tried really hard to focus. It wasn't that the book wasn't fascinating—the idea of reading about the worst magical illnesses in history was pretty cool—it was just one of those days where nothing seemed to stick. My mind was a boiling cauldron, far too bubbling and chaotic for anything to stay in place for long.

The quiet isolation of the night was getting to me already.

I shifted a little. Pillows are very inconsistent to lay on. One half of you will be nice and cozy, and the other half will be grinding your bones into the floor. Little problems are definitely the best problems to have.

I redirected my attention back to the book.

I didn't get far past the opening line.

Mr. O'Connors was known throughout his childhood as an aggressor and a bully, so it is little wonder he went on to cause untold chaos and harm in his later years.

The words dug into my brain like awful little spores, taking root and burrowing deep. I shook my head. They didn't go away. Instead, something else tugged at the edge of my thoughts. The familiar sensation of something rising to the surface without my consent, carrying the promise of regret.

People like that don't change. Not ever. They're rotten to the core.

There it was. Max's words made every single one of my muscles tense. They made my jaw clench until my teeth ached. They gave me that feeling I was so familiar with. That little flare deep in your gut that goes off when you miss a step on the stairs, only this one didn't fade after only a heartbeat.

Oh no. Please not here.

Did my thoughts ever listen to me? Why would they? I wouldn't listen to me either. If anything, I deserved this. It wasn't even enough. I hoped it got worse. I wanted it to stop.

Control. I needed control.

Of course you do, said the beast. You're obsessed with control. You're the Midas of destruction. Everything you touch turns to ash and tears.

It was only a matter of time before everyone around me realized what I was really like, and all started hating me for it. I couldn't blame them, either. That was the worst part. They'd be right. They'd probably be bad people if they didn't.

And who would ever want to be a bad person? Who would want to end up like me?

Walls were closing in around me, and there wasn't a single way out. All I could do was suffocate over and over, experiencing the worst parts of dying without any of the peace at the end. This feeling was my constant. My state of being. I'd tear my heart out to stop it. I knew it would always be back.

I couldn't escape my own head. I was trapped in it with feelings strong enough to break the toughest of people. And I wasn't tough. I wasn't brave. I was just a pathetic little loser in way over her head.

How long before you're the one who breaks?

"Starheart?"

I jumped. River was standing over me. I hadn't even noticed her coming closer.

"Are you alright?" she asked, her eyes brimming with worry.

She's going to hate you, my head whispered.

"I'm fine." My voice was dull. I needed to convince her as fast as possible. If I talked for too long, I knew she'd figure it out. I needed focus, silence, incredible will to brave the shrieking storm that built within me, or I'd drown. I felt sick—

"Give me your paw," she said, sticking out her own.

"I—uh—what?"

"Trust me."

I did. Gently, she grabbed my wrist and turned my palm up. With one of her claws, she started tracing the shape of my paw pads. First the big one in the middle, then the ones on each finger. She moved slowly and methodically, starting over when she finished.

Confused, I sat and watched. It tickled a little. The sensation sank into my skin.

Eventually—as I watched her trace strange patterns into my fur—the vise on my chest began to loosen. The thoughts running circles in my head slowed and then stopped. I could take a real breath, albeit a shaky one.

Finally, she stopped. "Are you okay?"

"How did you do that?" I choked out. Nothing had ever worked before. Sometimes my spirals lasted for days, weeks at worst. They drove me into the ground until I was so exhausted I could barely think.

She ducked her head when I locked eyes with her. "An old friend taught it to me."

I never showed any outward signs when this happened. I'd gotten too good at hiding them over the years. "How did you know I was…?"

"I could smell you from across the room. Nothing smells worse than an anxiety attack."

Ah, crud. I forgot about scent. This would be harder than I thought.

"I didn't realize there was a word for it," I said, pulling my tail in close. "I guess I just thought I was crazy."

The beast in my mind was not dead. It curled up in its dark little corner, watching me for any signs of weakness. I shivered.

She looked at me again. Only for a second, before going back to studying the floor. On the rare occasions she actually locked eyes with me, her gaze was intense.

"Follow me," she said, abruptly heading for the door.

I scrambled to my paws and followed her. "Wait! Where are we going?"

She half smiled. "Somewhere nice."

Mysterious. I liked it. Surprises were always loads of fun. And fun was a great way to occupy my mind. My familiar, sparking energy crept back into my limbs.

I paused when we passed by Nora's room. "Shouldn't we tell her we're leaving?"

River shrugged, making her shoulder fur ripple. "She knows I do this. She won't worry."

A faint crash came from Nora's room followed by an almost maniacal victory laugh. "Take that, you stupid bug!"

"What's she even doing in there?" I wondered.

"Nobody knows." River's face stripes pulled back into a wide-mouthed devilish grin. "I'll race you."

Excitement pulsed through me. My tail rose up high like a fluffy orange flag. "You're so on!"

River bolted down the stairs. Her long grey brush smacked me in the snout. I growled playfully and ran after her. I rounded the corner of the hallway and took the steps two at a time, somehow managing not to break a bone. I'd sprained my ankle last summer by running down the stairs too fast, and I'd rather not have a repeat of that incident.

My claws dug into the old wooden floorboard of the front hallway, propelling me fast enough that I slipped through the front door a second before it slammed shut, yanking my tail clear with half a heartbeat to spare.

I skidded to a halt mere seconds before bumping into River. She'd stopped.

"Do you smell that?" she asked.

"Smell what?"

"Freedom."

All four of my paws dug into earth wet with midnight dew. It had drizzled at some point—the damp brought the world to life with scents. I liked how dirt and stone smelled different when it was wet.

A deer had crossed the lawn with her baby recently. I shivered with delight. The wind seemed to whisper with the promise of the wild.

River took off again with no warning. I tore after her, and we raced down the path towards the road. The grass blurred below me. Running in this body was breathtaking—on all fours, the ground was a lot closer. My fox limbs were stronger and more agile, too.

My lungs weren't even burning. I felt like I was barrelling down the highway with the windows down. It was marvellous.

I pushed my legs to carry me even faster, finally closing the gap between me and River. My tongue hung out as I panted, flapping like a sail in the wind. I wanted to holler with the glory of it all.

River squeaked at me and I yipped back, our words lost in the wildness of the moment. All our humanity was forgotten.

We swerved dangerously close to a horse-drawn cart, barely dodging out from under the animal's hooves. The driver shouted at us, but I didn't care. For once in my life, I didn't feel like I was drowning.

I don't know how long we ran for. All I knew was that I never wanted it to stop. I could've spent the rest of my life racing River underneath a blanket of a million stars. All I needed to feel was the wind in my fur. All I needed to hear was her heart next to mine.

I was so caught up in the moment, I didn't notice the trees looming ahead of me until a second too late. My momentum carried me a few meters into the woods before I skidded to a halt. Panic replaced my rush of freedom as I backpedalled back into the open as fast as I could.

Rising to my back paws again, I sniffed the air suspiciously. No rot. No death. Just the calming scents of nature. I realized we'd crossed the Live Action border at some point—the hyper realistic world made my bright, cartoonish form seem alien. It was funny how much I'd already gotten used to living in an animated world—it felt more like home to me than this place did, despite the fact I'd spent my whole life in a place a lot like this.

River stood up next to me. Her ears were relaxed. She looked totally calm. "It's alright. This copse isn't connected to the woods. It's safe."

I didn't know what a copse was, but I trusted her. I steeled my nerves and followed her into the brush.

The foliage was dense—all I had to follow was her bright, white-tipped tail. Low hanging branches on the trees above brushed the top of my head. It felt gentle. Like they were saying hello. Much friendlier than the trees in our woods.

My family went camping at least once a year, so I knew from experience that midnight trips to the bathroom were impossible without a flashlight. You couldn't see your hand in front of your face. I never really realized how poor human eyes were in the dark until now—the sun was long gone and the dense trees blocked out the moon, but I had no trouble getting around. My eyes were brilliant. I might as well have had the sun beating down on me. Every leaf, every dewdrop, even the faint grooves in the dirt left behind by River's claws, were as clear as day.

This body would never ever stop being incredible to me. I couldn't wrap my head around the fact that most people actually wanted to be human. This was pure freedom.

River's tail had disappeared, but it didn't matter. One breath and I was drinking in her scent. She had a nice scent.

Very wild. Like nature come to life. It made me think of mountain air. I loved it—maybe it wasn't very special on its own, but it made me think of her, and thinking of her made my tail wag.

I tripped over a root and stumbled out into a clearing. It was small—maybe half the size of my bedroom back home. A fallen log lay on the left side, faintly scored with claw marks. The far side was a sheer cliff that gave way to the most incredible thing I'd ever seen.

Beyond where the cliff fell away was a city tucked into the valley below. Countless skyscrapers and hundreds of windows were lit up like an ocean of artificial stars. They perfectly reflected the billions upon billions of real ones in the sky above—I'd never seen so many before in my life. Not even out in the mountains. Golden pinpricks danced above and below my paws in a dizzying array that made me sure the earth had fallen away and left me stranded in space.

"The stars—how…" I trailed off. No words could describe it.

"Isn't it grand?" River lifted her head and breethd in the cool air. The light of the moon turned her blue stripes a beautiful shade of purple. "A wizard cast a spell over Fable's Reach a while back when electricity was first utilized, to prevent light pollution. You won't see skies like this anywhere on earth." Her fur spiked excitedly.

"It was revolutionary. It's quite a crime that he's so unknown, really. History is vastly underappreciated.

The same wizard—Sir Finkleton I, not Sir Finkleton 4, people get them confused—was the one who spoke out on behalf of Cartoon characters during the Great Media Conflicts. Those were when… um…" She glanced at me apologetically. "Sorry. I know I talk about these things too much. I promise I do try not to be too annoying."

Did she seriously think that? "You're not annoying."

"It's alright, I know I'm a bit… off."

"I like off. It's more interesting that way."

She gave me an odd look, like she didn't believe me but didn't want to argue.

I knew River was a little bit different. I'd seen it on T.V, and I'd seen it here. Mostly in the way she interacted with other people—how she hardly ever looked at me, and how she talked a unique fashion. She used much fancier words than most people.

Like a detective in an old book or, like Nora described it, someone from a few hundred years ago. Her comparison might've been a little dramatic, but River's vocabulary was definitely much better than ours. She'd used the word 'indubitably' at least seven times in the year since she started talking to me. I didn't even know what that meant.

I hadn't realized how much it bothered her. Annoying? Really? That wasn't right. Annoying was my sister constantly stealing my phone charger or me getting my tail caught in doors. Annoying wasn't River. Not at all.

She crossed the clearing, her paws making no sound in the blanket of leaves coating the dirt. She scrabbled up onto the log and sat with her tail curled neatly over her black hind paws.

"I quite like it here. It's quiet." The light of space lit her eyes up brighter than a thousand neon signs. "Did you know there are more stars in the universe than grains of sand on earth?" I could smell the excitement sparking off her.

I'd heard that fact before. It made me dizzy, like I were a flea on the back of some massive, unknowable creature.

I sat down next to her. "You seem different out here."

Her ear twitched. "Different?"

"Brighter, somehow. Louder."

Her dove grey fur rippled in the gentle breeze. She seemed so soft and small, yet it felt like there was more of her out here than I'd ever seen before. She didn't answer for a minute. Her fuzzy chest rose and fell as she breethd, and her striking eyes flickered this way and that.

"The world isn't easy for me, Starheart," she said finally. "People are difficult. Confusing. Loud. Frightening, even. They say things they don't mean, and there's a million secret little rules to communicating I've never been able to learn. It's like everyone else was born speaking a language I don't understand, and it's exhausting trying to pretend I do. When I'm alone, I don't have to be afraid all the time.

I don't have to wear someone else's face. I can just… be."

"Are we hard to be around?" I wasn't sure I wanted to know the answer to that question. River was one of the only two people in the entire universe with whom I didn't feel like a total waste. I wanted her to feel safe with me, too.

She blinked rapidly, like she was coming out of a daze. Her nose twitched. "No. You two are special. You and Nora are the only people I don't feel afraid around.

It's not that I magically start understanding social niceties around you—I don't think I ever will with anyone—I suppose I just… trust you not to hate me for it. I feel safe enough to let myself be strange. Being with you two feels like being alone. Better, even."

I bumped her shoulder with my own. She gave me a sheepish smile.

"I feel safe around you, too," I said.

Tell her the truth, the beast in my head taunted. See if she still thinks you're safe after all that.

I scratched my head aggressively. Shut up. You could leave me alone for once. You don't have to ruin everything.

It didn't respond, but those little sparks of pain came to life in my head again. Great.

River grabbed my paw. I jolted. Seriously, how did I keep forgetting she could smell me? My old masks didn't work here. I had fight off the beast for real, and goodness knows I was horrible at that.

"Starheart." I loved the way she said my name. Even with the more serious notes I could detect beneath it, I still liked the way it sounded coming from her. "I know you're in pain. You don't hide it as well as you think."

I flinched.

"It's alright. I'm not going to ask you why. If you wanted to talk about it, you would've done so by now. That's your right. But…" she hesitated.

"I don't want you to think I don't see it, either. I'm not blind to your suffering. I'm here if you need me."

Geez. She really saw a lot more of people than she thought. It reminded me of an old story I read about a man who was blind but could 'see' into people's souls. River wasn't magic, of course. But she gave me the same piercing feeling I imagine someone would get if you looked at their spirit.

"I wish I knew how to fix everything," I said vaguely. "It's all so bad sometimes.

I don't like feeling broken." I yawned. I probably wasn't as guarded as I should've been. Something about late night conversations always brought my walls down.

Maybe not being able to see someone's face as well helped. I didn't know. I just knew my head was too fuzzy for me to worry about whether or not I sounded happy enough.

"You're not broken," she said. Her voice was like a whisper of wind. "'Broken' implies unfixable. Nobody's really broken.

Only a bit battered and bruised." Her paw squeezed mine. "Do you see that tree over there?"

"Hmm? Which one?" My eyelids felt heavy.

"That one right over there. With the scar on its side."

I saw it. It was a wide, ugly thing. The bark had split open and never quite recovered.

"It was struck by lightning," she explained. "It'll look like that forever. Its wounds are visible.

Gaping. Hard to miss. It's not unique, though. Maybe the others aren't quite as obvious, but every tree has scars. Some big, some little, some fatal, some not.

No creature—especially not us—gets through this life unscathed. We're all damaged, frightened things. But we're not as alone as we think we are. If you speak your truth, you'll find people are much more understanding than you'd think."

Sadness twinged in my heart. "Not with this. Not with me."

She nosed my ear sympathetically. "Especially with you. You'd be surprised how open-minded people really are. Especially when it comes to someone they love."

I didn't know what to say to that. The ache in my chest felt a bit warmer than it did before, though. Hollow still, but less lonely. Maybe she would understand.

Alarm bells flared in my head and my heart slammed on the brakes. No, no, no. That was too far. Careful. Be careful. I couldn't get too close to splitting open.

If I tell her, she won't want to be my friend anymore.

If I don't tell her, I won't deserve her as a friend in the first place.

For the first time all day, I found the strength to push the thoughts down. They would come later. Leave them for later. Now was too pure, too perfect, too happy to touch.

We sat like that for a while, gazing out over that sea of stars with our shoulder fur touching. The pleasant fog in my mind grew stronger all the while. If that moment could've lasted forever, it would've been the closest I ever got to some sort of heaven.

Eventually, River broke the silence. "Are you alright?"

"Mmm. Great," I mumbled. My snout had drifted low enough to brush my chest. "Jus' fine."

"Are you tired?" she sounded a little shocked.

"Couldn't be," I said, half asleep. "We don't need to sleep, do we?"

"We don't need to sleep," she corrected. "You may very well be different."

"Wow," I replied. The city lights were blurry through my half-lidded eyes. "That's incredible. 'Cuz I feel fantastic. Never been more… uh… what's the word… Awake! Yes." I yawned again, revealing my deadly pointed teeth.

She snorted. "Yeah. Totally awake." She slid off the log and pulled me to my paws. "Ready to go home?"

Home. The first thing that came to my mind was the cabin. Strange—was it more home to me than earth was? I did feel safer there. More like me.

What made something home, anyway? My mom had one of those cheesy wooden signs hanging over the fireplace that said home is where the heart is. I guess it was cliché, but then again, things only really become cliché because they're true.

I wagged at her. "Home sounds nice."

We didn't run the way back. I was pretty grateful for that—my paws were sore. We didn't speak, but that was alright. There was nothing else that needed to be said.

River moved so much more silently than me—her gentle footsteps left the night air undisturbed. I, on the other paw, sounded like a freight train whenever I moved. Apparently, there were still secrets to fox stealth I hadn't learned.

As we crossed the front lawn, a small black shape flitted in front of the stars. It was too dark to tell what it was. It might've been the raven. Or it could've been a bat.

I decided to go with bat.

River fiddled with the stubborn door, scowling at it when it refused to budge. I sniffed it. A man had been here recently.

Abruptly, the door swung open from the other side. "Oh my gosh, there you guys are! It's about time!" Nora exclaimed.

The man's smell was stronger inside. He was still here. "What's going on? Who's that?" I peered over her shoulder, not seeing anything beyond the darkened hallway.

"It's Jerico," she said seriously. "He found something."

Chapter Twelve

He wouldn't stop pacing.

I was squished between my friends on the couch. It was barely big enough for all three of us. River was staring at the floor. Nora was, as usual, vibrating with barely-contained energy. I was fighting to stay conscious.

I wondered how it felt to never get tired. Probably pretty useful. There were loads of days I had to stay up late to study. It would've been great back then.

At the same time, there was no better way to cure a tummy ache than to sleep it off. Sleep sounded nice. I missed my bed. I missed my goldfish. I hoped my mom would remember to feed them while I was gone.

Right. Time to focus. Important conversation.

"I fear I may have found the solution," Jerico was saying.

River's ears pricked. "You fear? What's so bad about it?"

He stopped and stared at her. She looked like she immediately regretting talking.

"It's probably just dangerous, right?" Nora jumped in quickly. River relaxed. "'Cuz that's not a big deal. I'm great at danger. I'm always in danger."

"That's not quite something to be proud of, Nora. Please put that sword away before you take your eye out."

"Hasn't happened yet," she muttered, tucking Dragonheart away again.

"I'd prefer it if you did not speed up the process."

"What's this great solution?" I prodded.

He sighed. "The witch."

That meant nothing to me, but Nora and River's almost synchronized gasps were enough to put me on edge.

"Surely, you're joking."

"Dude, she'll kill us before the Shadow does!"

"Who's that?" I asked.

"Some creepy old lady who lives beyond the mountains," Nora explained. "Nobody really knows that much about her. Just that she's magic. And dangerous."

"And that she'll grant wishes, for a price," River added.

"What kind of price?"

Her tail curled close, making her seem much smaller than she was. "Nobody knows. But I imagine it's nothing cheap."

As far as I knew, we were still broke. That probably wasn't ideal.

"I understand it's a drastic response, but you three know as well as I do that this is a drastic situation." He lowered his voice. "There have been three more victims tonight alone. Only one was captured."

His words settled over the room like an awful, dark cloud. Three more afflicted. Two more monsters waiting to strike from the woods. If somebody didn't do something soon, our whole world would be in danger.

"Geez, dude. You really flipped all the way around. You do realize this is insane, right?" Nora sounded more surprised than scared.

Jerico sighed. "You must understand that this was not an option I ever wanted to explore. If I could send anyone else I would, but dragon flight is the fastest mode of transportation we have, and I need to stay behind to continue my tests."

As much as I tried to follow along, it was getting harder and harder for me to pay attention. My eyes wouldn't stay open.

"Take tonight to think about it," Jerico said. "I shall return in the morning for your answer. Until then, I—" he broke off. "Is Starheart alright? Your friend appears to be half dead."

"I'm fiiine," I mumbled. Nora's shoulder made a cozy pillow. Her hair was long enough to tickle my nose.

"Oh, she's alright. She just needs to sleep, I think." River patted my head affectionately.

"Right. Well. Rest up, my young adventurers. I have a premonition that it only gets harder from here."

***

I was in the dark.

Shapeless, cold, shifting dark.

My paws were bright against the ominous background. I stood out like a neon sign. If anyone was here, they would see me a mile away.

Guys? Are you there? I reached out with my thoughts, more on instinct than anything. My friends didn't answer.

"Hello?" I called, out loud this time.

I immediately shivered. Should I have done that? I didn't want anyone but them to hear me, and I had the dreadful, nagging feeling that I wasn't alone.

I needed to move. I needed to move now, or it would find me. I picked a random direction and took off at a trot.

I remembered being here before. I couldn't recall any specific instance, but the whole place had an air of familiarity that settled in me immediately. Like I should remember but couldn't.

A drifting scent caught my attention. My head snapped up. It was Nora's. A few days of knowing her in person, and the way she smelled was already burned into the folds of my mind. It only lasted a heartbeat before abruptly vanishing like it had been torn from my nose. That wasn't right. I spun around in circles trying to find it again, desperation growing in my head. I didn't want to be alone in this place.

I spun around one final time and nearly screamed. There was something behind me. It had not been there before.

A man. Or rather, the shape of a man. He was made entirely out of shards of glass. My frightened face reflected back at me from a thousand broken facets. He had two fat, shiny beetles for eyes. They were impaled on his face shards, squirming horribly but never dying.

An unspeakable terror washed over me, one that was far disproportionate to what I was seeing. This was wrong. I wasn't supposed to see him. My whole body shook as I tried to run, but I couldn't move.

What have you done? An echoing voice—the Shadow's voice—pierced my ears.

I hadn't done anything!

You odious, repugnant excuse for a being! what have you done?

The man of mirrors exploded.

Shards ripped through my fur and the flesh below, leaving ragged, bloody holes behind. Hundreds more beetles writhed and squirmed in a pile where he used to be.

I knew what I did.

And you'll always know. Monsters do not possess the gift of forgetting.

***

I woke up.

Sunlight was streaming in through the window of River's room. I huffed a sigh and flopped back into my mountain of pillows. I almost never had nightmares, but when I did, they were some of the most confusing and frightening things I'd ever experienced.

The room was empty, besides the spider on the ceiling. I could hear the sounds of my friends downstairs with epic clarity. I spent a bleary moment wondering how long they'd been awake.

Right. Sleep is just a me thing now.

Frustration itched at my fur. My need to rest was delaying us. The longer we delayed, the stronger the Shadow would get.

I stretched like a cat, relishing in the feeling of my claws digging into the pillows, before hauling my aching body out of the nest. I was sore all over. Running for your life and getting jumped by mind-controlled shadow zombies really does a number on a person.

Fighting evil was starting to seem a lot less fun than it looked on T.V.

I could already smell the misery wafting off me. What had worked before clearly wasn't working now. I had to correct this.

I shook out my thick fur. I was not a bad person. I would fix this. I would do better. I needed to do better, because if I didn't, that made me a monster.

I just needed to be happier! Easy peasy! I was the master of being happy! It was my whole thing!

"Hey, guys!" I called as I headed down the stairs. I might've said it a bit too loudly, because there was a startled crash and a yelp from the kitchen.

I skidded around the corner, nearly falling into the stove. My tail was a blur.

"Dude, careful. You're gonna fry your face off." Nora gently pushed me back.

Oh, she was great! I loved seeing her!

"River!" I yelped. She was standing bewildered on the other side of the counter. "Hello! Good morning!"

"What's gotten into you?" she asked.

"I'm always like this," I insisted. "Hey, what's that smell?"

"I'm making pancakes," Nora told me proudly.

"I thought you were banned from working in the food industry."

"She begged me to give her another chance," River informed me. "As long as I get to supervise. I don't feel like getting salmonella again."

"Come on guys, I'm not that bad at cooking."

The pan burst into flames. Nora screamed and threw a dishtowel at it.

River calmly ducked under her arm and covered the pan with a lid. "All better."

The smell of burning fabric and smoke filled the air. Nora stared ruefully at stinking, blackened mess. "Okay. So. That was a mistake."

I coughed. "It's okay. I prefer waffles. They have those wonderful little syrup puddles. Like drinking a lake of sugar."

"Ever since I blew up the waffle maker, we don't have those either," Nora admitted.

I was starting to think Nora's expert combat efficiency was not the scariest thing about her.

The two of them dug through the fridge for something that wasn't totally ruined. They seemed so calm, talking and joking with each other all the while. Weren't they scared?

They must be worried about the Shadow too, right? Didn't they spend every minute fighting back doom-and-gloom thoughts about their own worthlessness?

I couldn't be the only one afraid, right?

Maybe I was. Maybe I was making a big deal out of nothing. If nobody else felt this bothered, then it was a me problem.

Why am I so bad at this?

My dream came back to me. I knew why.

"So. Uh. Have you guys decided what we're doing?" I asked. "Are we leaving?" Oh, man. Did that sound too negative? "I–I mean, I'm sure whatever you decide is a great decision! I trust you completely!"

Nora squinted at me. She sure did that a lot. "You get a say too, dude. What do you think?"

"I think we have to. Terrible things are happening, and if we don't do everything we can to stop it, then—" I stopped. "Well. We need to."

Nora nodded approvingly. "Right. The strong and capable need to fight for good in the world. That's our job. It's what good people do."

The tone and weight of her words brought back memories. Her general goofy attitude made it all too easy to forget all she'd seen and done. Not that I ever could. Dragon's Call was the anthem of my life. It hummed through my veins and played on repeat in my thoughts. If I hadn't seen it, if Nora hadn't been as brave as she was, I wouldn't be here as me. Or at all.

"It'll be quite hazardous." River tugged at her ear tag. "But I agree. I cannot in good conscience do nothing." She shivered. "I hope we don't all die.

Or get horribly injured. I am not good with pain. I don't like pain."

Nora took her paw. "It'll be alright, man. You guys have me! Any shadow dorks who try to eat us are getting flayed!"

She didn't smell nearly as confident as she sounded. I was starting to think she was afraid more often than she was willing to admit. I couldn't blame her—I wasn't being totally honest about how I felt, either. That didn't stop me from being mildly concerned.

Did she think she was doing us a favour? I didn't want her to suffer in silence. I sighed internally, feeling another conflict bubbling up in my head.

Buck up, Starheart. You can take it.

"Nora, I don't doubt your skills. But that thing"—River spat out the word like a curse—"can't even be touched. I don't want you to get hurt, either."

"I'll be okay," Nora promised. "I usually am. You don't have to worry about me."

River's whole face softened. "You know I always will."

A loud, shrieking alarm made me jump. River whined and scratched at her ears.

Nora tugged the mirror out of her pocket. It was even louder out in the open. It drilled into my ears like a power saw with a taste for revenge.

"Can't you turn that thing down?" I shrank back.

"They're locked to one volume setting." Nora seemed totally unfazed.

I'd adjusted pretty well to my ears amplifying every sound to an absurd degree. I couldn't help but wonder how dim and dull the world would seem when I got home.

The noise clicked off, and I breethd a sigh of relief.

It didn't last long.

Nora's heartbeat ticked up a pace. She was staring at the screen in dismay.

"What?" River asked. "What is it?" She peered over her shoulder and froze.

I couldn't see from where I was standing. I whimper-growled to get their attention.

Nora jumped like she'd forgotten I was there. "It's—it's Rosaline."

"Who?" Should I remember who that was?

"The giant turtle with the funny hat on the council."

"Tortoise," River corrected.

"Right. Tortoise. The Shadow got her."

My hackles went up. I'd barely known her, but she'd seemed pretty nice when we spoke with the council. At least she'd heard us out. The news was a bite to the heart. "That's horrible."

"It gets worse," Nora said grimly. "She went crazy. Dragged like six other people into the woods with her. They've put out a warning telling people not to go outside."

My heart sank. How could things have gotten this bad this fast? The longer we waited, the faster the world spiraled.

"We need to leave. Today." Nora's voice was hard.

Chapter Thirteen

He left us a map?" I asked.

"Yeah, dude. You were there."

"…Maybe I was sleepier than I thought."

We were back upstairs in the room at the end of the hall. Nora had Jerico's map stretched out over a dozen smaller maps on the table. A small candle flickered dangerously close to the mounds of paper. River was biting her claws.

Nora had a small metal thing that looked like a ruler and was studying it against the map. I tried to make sense of what I saw.

It was mostly vast stretches of woodland and mountains, with a tiny drawing of a town in the middle representing Fable's Reach. The fiction realm was way bigger than I thought. That lonely little mark might as well have been a flea on a dog's back. Inconsequential. Did fleas ever worry about how little they mattered? Maybe we were all fleas to someone else. Big to some, meaningless to others.

"Two days," she said. "It's still pretty early. If we leave right away, we can make it to the witch by dusk tomorrow."

"Right away? Don't… don't we need to…" River trailed off. She whined a little.

I tilted my head quizzically.

"It's okay. Take your time," Nora encouraged.

She nodded silently. "Don't we need to prepare? Or, or pack?"

"That'll be quick. Just need food and stuff. I bet we could go in an hour if we move fast." Nora straightened up. "Though I'm not sure what we're gonna do about the whole 'price' thing. We still don't have any money."

"I don't have anything valuable," said River. "Unless the witch wants a free art commission."

"Hold on," I piped up. "Who ever said the price was a thing? I thought it would be, like, a piece of your soul or years off your life. That's how it works in stories."

They both looked horrified, like they'd never even considered a scary old witch would want to steal our youth. Or eat our skin. Or bake us into bread. It occurred to me that how scary this person was would really depend on the kid-friendliness of her original story.

"Hopefully it won't come to that!" I said quickly. "But, y'know, if it does, I'm prepared. I'll do whatever it takes. I don't mind."

I'd always thought that if my brave, heroic adventure was the kind of story that ended in self-sacrifice, I would be okay with that. I'd be remembered as someone brave and kind. It would be the ultimate redemption.

"I think we should still bring something valuable. Just in case," River said.

"Well, I don't have any stuff here at all. I had a silver dollar back home, but that's useless now."

We both looked at Nora.

"Hey, I'm not a millionaire. I've got seven dollars to my name." She seemed to deflate a little. "Oh. Well. I guess Dragonheart's worth a lot. Maybe."

"What? No!" I cried. "We couldn't do that! Dragonheart's too special!"

That sword was probably the most iconic, meaningful weapon in the world. I knew how she'd gotten it, and I knew how much it meant to her. I couldn't ask it of her to give it up.

"It's okay, Starheart," Nora said, not sounding like it was alright at all. "If it comes down to it, saving people is more important." She looked at the sword so mournfully. It was hard to watch.

River was buzzing with nervous energy. "Okay. Okay. I should get ready. I should prepare."

She hopped from foot to foot. "Oh, gosh. I need to prepare now." She bolted from the room without another word.

"She can really move fast when she wants to," I commented.

"Hmm," said Nora, staring at the map again. "Sorry, what? I wasn't listening."

"Never mind. I'm gonna go help her." I started for the door.

"Wait!"

I turned back.

Her brown eyes were troubled. She looked pretty serious. "What did you mean by that?"

I shrugged. "I dunno. She just seemed kinda hyper."

"No, no. Not that." She hesitated. "What did you mean when you said you wouldn't mind giving yourself up?"

I froze. "It didn't mean anything."

"Are you sure?"

The fur on my neck was prickling uneasily. I fought to keep it flat. I was calm. "Totally sure."

Her eyebrows furrowed slightly. She somehow looked less convinced than before.

"I want to protect everyone," I insisted. "That's a good thing, isn't it? That's what heroes do."

"I mean, yeah, but I just—I want to make sure you wouldn't—" she broke off, looking like she didn't really know what to say. Her hand twitched in my direction, but she ultimately didn't reach out. There was a buried sort of anxiety to how she was confronting me that—not for the first time with her—made me feel like I had touched on the edge of something I was missing.

"I don't want you to do anything like that for the wrong reason. Especially if there's any other choice."

I blinked. "What does that mean?" I felt like a half-squished bug under the intensity of her gaze. I was itching to leave as soon as possible. I knew this conversation could quickly turn to a place that would bring the monster to life.

She scuffed the floor. "It's okay. Forget it."

I turned to leave again, swallowing back the tightness in my throat.

"You matter too, Starheart," I heard her say. "Think about that, alright?"

I wasn't sure how I was supposed to 'forget it' and 'think about it' at the same time, but I flicked an ear in acknowledgement before fleeing out of the room.

The walls were suffocating. I made my way outside as fast as I could. My fuzzy ears picked up the sound of a conversation. Or at least, half of one.

River and Jerico were out back by a bored-looking Seafern. Jerico was saying something to her; she didn't look happy about it. Her face lit up when she saw me.

"Ah, Starheart." Jerico nodded at me. "Such a fine day for such a sinister task."

I lifted my tail high. "Oh, I don't know about that! I'm excited!"

"You know, I gotta agree." Nora approached from behind me. "It's nice to actually be doing something about all this."

"Well, I am quite glad to hear you're willing to take the risk. I come bearing supplies." Glass clinked as he pushed a brown leather satchel into River's arms. "Healing potions. Plus emergency rations."

Seafern gave a massive yawn. Their great, scaly head dipped down until it was level with mine. Their ice-blue eyes were intense.

They licked me.

"Ack!" I sputtered.

"I told you they like you!" Nora said.

I patted them on the snout gratefully, trying to forget the taste of dragon slobber.

"If we're not back in six days, we're dead," Nora told Jerico casually.

He gave her a why-are-you-like-this face. "I will make note of that. Thank you, Nora." Unexpectedly, he turned to me. "I must speak with you alone."

"Uh, okay. Why?"

He didn't answer. He just nodded towards the house. Confused, I followed him around the corner.

"Is this a surprise? I love surprises." I wagged excitedly.

He sighed. "Not the good kind, I'm afraid."

My tail slowed and then stopped. "Oh."

He looked over his shoulder to make sure nobody was watching. We were far enough away that I doubted even River could hear us. I definitely couldn't hear what she was saying to Nora as they both pretended not to be watching us from a distance. Pretty badly, I had to say. They weren't good actors.

He sighed and straightened his fancy bowtie. "This town in turning against you, I'm afraid."

I jerked my head up. "What?"

"There's been rumors. Some think that… well, since the problems with the Shadow started around the same time you arrived…"

"They're blaming me," I said flatly."

"I'm afraid so."

I couldn't be upset with them. I blamed me, too. The sadness that infected me was more of a resigned tiredness than anything.

Misery was wafting off Jerico, too. It was clear to me he didn't want to tell me this. Poor guy. I wished he didn't have to.

"That's okay!" I said brightly. "I can handle it!"

He gave me an odd look. "You do not seem distressed."

I shrugged. "I don't really get upset about things. I'm generally very happy."

A dark, bird-shaped shadow swooped low in the sky. The raven banked and landed with a clatter on the overhang of the roof. It peered down at me and cawed.

I bared my teeth at it. It flapped its wings mockingly. Stupid bird ruining everything.

Jerico raised an eyebrow at me. "Clearly."

I grinned sheepishly.

"Well. I must be going. I'm needed with the healers." He hesitated. "I would stay out of town for the time being."

"It's that bad?"

His eyes darkened. It was the only answer I needed.

Well, this was fantastic. I really hoped they weren't upset with Nora and River, too. They didn't deserve that. These were my problems. My pains. They didn't even need to be helping. They sure as heck didn't need to be paying the price for my faults.

This was the point in a story where a hero would usually try to stay away from their friends to protect them. Maybe I was supposed to do that. Or maybe not. Those decisions usually ended really badly.

Like getting stuck in a cave alone with flesh eating zombies and realizing that you were no good on your own. Besides, if I left them, I thought I'd throw up from sadness. Was that possible? I'd probably find a way.

I watched Jerico disappear down the path. I really hoped he'd be alright without us. I barely knew the man, but the thought of him being turned into one of those awful husks made my guts twist.

"What was that all about?"

I might have screamed a little.

Nora shook her head at me. "Y'know Star, for someone with such massive ears you sure are easy to sneak up on."

My fur smoothed. "Sometimes I forget to use them. Where's River?"

"Inside. Getting her stuff. Also totally freaking out, I think."

"Uh oh."

"Yeah." She tugged at the seam of her glove. "We'd better keep an eye on that. She doesn't do very well with this stuff. Being away from home and all. I guess nobody's great at that, but she takes it even harder, you know?"

I shook a mosquito off my ear. "How can I help?"

She shrugged. "Gotta get her through it. Can't really stop River from panicking. Just need to be there. Like a—a buddy. A panic buddy. Panic is less fun alone."

I snorted. "Is panic ever fun at all?"

"Nah. Buuuut I think it's somewhere a tad closer to almost fun when you're not doing it by yourself." She grinned at me and flicked another bug off my nose. "Man. Those things really love you."

"My blood is super drinkable."

"Ew. Hey, you wanna help me pack? I'll, uh, I'll give you this weird candy I found in my pocket."

That poor chocolate looked like it had spent the last forty years jammed under the seat in my sister's crusty old car. "You know what? How about I help you for free. As long as you promise to throw that thing away as soon as humanly possible."

She shook my paw. "You've got a deal."

I followed her through the back door. "Seriously Nora, how much stuff do you have in your pockets?"

"No idea, buddy." She grabbed a familiar, tattered old backpack off the couch and started yanking open various cupboards in the kitchen. "At least it's useful. Sometimes."

I stuffed a pack of delightful-smelling pretzels into the bag. At least twelve more things came tumbling down to hit me in the nose. "Ouch."

She grabbed a couple of pill bottles off the floor. They rattled when she added them to the bag. "So… what did Jerico want?"

I shrugged casually. "Nothing."

She side-eyed me.

My tail hung low enough to brush the mess on the floor. "Nothing. Just me being Public Enemy Number One. Everyone hates me now. Hey, do we really need canned pineapple?"

I have this super awesome, really effective tactic of delivering bad news where I act totally calm and then say something completely unrelated at the end to distract whoever I'm telling. It works great.

"What?"

Most of the time.

"Starheart, what the heck do you mean? What's going on?"

I tried to keep a straight face. "I think—well, he said people are mad at me. They know this is all my fault."

Anger sparked off her. "It's not, though."

"We don't know that for sure," I muttered.

She grabbed my face between her hands. I squeaked in protest. Her eyes were intense. That is, more intense than they usually were, which was saying something.

There was always this deep fire in them that could stop anyone in their tracks. Her anger was blazing. Her joy was flame.

It was like being friends with the sun in the form of a human being. It must be tiring to feel that much. I got tired when my brain monsters were too loud.

I was tired a lot lately.

"Starheart."

"Hrrff?"

"This is not your fault," she said. "Not at all. Not even a little bit. Anyone who says otherwise will have to deal with me driving a fork through their stupid eyeballs. That includes the Shadow. That self-absorbed idiotic garbage creature is so gonna get it when I see it next."

I looked away. As much as her vise tight grip would let me, at least. "I don't know if they're all that wrong. It's my monster. It's after me. It wouldn't be doing this if I was gone."

The blazing inferno in her eyes faded to a faintly glowing ember. "Someone else's bad decisions aren't your fault. Even if those bad choices are related to you. Even if this thing is hunting you specifically—which I seriously doubt.

I mean, why take everyone else if it only wants you? That's not on you, man. Really."

The fight drained out of me as she finally let me go. "Okay."

She crossed her arms. She tilted her head to the side a little. "For someone who's 'always happy', you sure seem to get sad a lot."

What did she mean by that? Was she upset? I should fix that. I needed to fix that. Stop being sad. Sad was bad. Sad was—

Crash.

The sound came from the hallway.

We both poked our heads out of the kitchen to see River wrestling with a mountain of books. There were dozens of them. She was wearing an overflowing backpack and had a tote bag on each arm, all three of them full to bursting. She cried out as the giant armful she'd been carrying came tumbling down to the floor.

"Dude, what are you doing?" Nora asked. "Is that all of your books? Did you leave any of them behind?"

"It's not all my books," she huffed. "Just maybe a quarter of them."

"…Why?"

"Because we might need them." River bent over to pick up a book, seemingly forgetting she'd never closed the backpack. Every single book came toppling down to hit her in the head. She collapsed into a sad little pile of fur.

Nora and I exchanged worried looks.

"Hey, buddy," Nora said with the tone and general demeanor of someone approaching a very small, very scared puppy. "Are you… are you okay?"

"Rrrrgghh," said River.

I peeled a book off her head. She looked up at me with sad, defeated eyes. "I can't carry all this, so we're going to die."

"We're not gonna die," Nora promised.

River sat up, sending another avalanche of reading material tumbling to the ground. "You don't know that! What if someone gets sick?

Or hurt? Or, or we get lost? What if something completely and utterly terrible happens and I could have fixed it with my books? I don't know everything! Nora! what if someone goes into Sudden Cardiac Arrest and I can't Remember how to do C.P.R?

Nora crouched down and looked her in the eye. "What do you think the chances of that happening are?"

"I don't know! Not zero!"

"My heart feels fine," I offered helpfully.

"Heart disease is on the rise in America, Starheart. Nobody is safe."

"Have you been reading medical textbooks again?" Nora asked gently.

River nodded miserably.

"Maybe stop doing that."

I plopped down next to her. She sniffed me before flopping back to the floor.

Nora was quiet for a minute. Her fingers absentmindedly scored their way across the skin of her forearms. It looked painful. "It's gonna be fine. I promise."

"You don't know that," River repeated. She squeezed her eyes shut, looking defeated.

The misery wafting off her made me whimper. Without thinking, I shifted closer and pressed into her reassuringly. She twitched but didn't move away. Her muscles relaxed into me.

I didn't entirely understand her fears yet. It was a completely new depth of agony that I'd never seen anyone deal with before. But she was my friend, and I loved her.

Friends look out for each other. Maybe you don't really need to understand something, or what someone's going through. Being kind is enough.

"You're right," Nora said. "We don't know for sure. We don't know anything for sure." We both looked at her in faint surprise.

"But I do know one thing." She gave us a look so warm it made my heart smile. "Whatever happens, no matter how bad things get, we've got each other.

We're not alone. Whatever awful stuff tries to take us out is in for the fight of its life. The world hasn't gotten rid of us yet, and we've all been through way worse.

That's a fact." She got to her feet and stuck out a hand. "We can do this. We just have to be a little bit brave."

I'd definitely never been through anything worse than this. They had. Not me. I'd never had a real adventure. But I felt—not for the first time—her spark light something deeper inside me. Something brave, like she said.

I took her hand and she tugged me to standing. Anticipating me tripping into her, she steadied my shoulders before I could fall.

River took a deep breath and got up too. "Okay. Thank you."

"Think we could leave a few of these behind? Maybe?"

River nodded. "I'll be alright without them."

Nora grinned. "That's my guy. Do you have Feathers?"

My slow morning brain wondered briefly why we'd need a bunch of bird feathers.

River's eyes widened. "Oh, goodness! How could I forget her?" She turned tail and scampered up the stairs.

Nora picked a leaf off my head. Her hand smelled like flowery soap.

River returned with her little chicken. "Many thanks, Nora. I cannot truly feel at ease without her."

"Alright then! You guys ready?"

I nodded as bravely as I could.

"Then let's get out of here!"

***

Dragons were much harder to climb than I'd always thought they'd be.

"How do you make this look so easy?" I huffed after sliding off for the fifth time.

Nora peered down at me. "That's 'cuz I do this every day. Also, I'm not the clumsiest person ever born."

I bonked my nose on Seafern's wing. They swung their massive head around and glowered at me.

"Fair enough." I wasn't exactly known for hand-eye coordination. I accidentally punched myself in the face the last time I had to put on a sweater.

I backed up a couple paces, far enough to get a good look at my current situation. Seafern was ridiculously tall. I'd ridden horses before, but their back was at least twice the height of the tallest horse I'd ever seen.

Okay. Running start, maybe.

I charged at the wall of green scales as fast as I could. I gathered my strong legs beneath me, sprang, and…

…Almost flew right over the other side.

Agh! I cried. Nora grabbing me by the scruff was the only thing that kept me from falling to an ungraceful doom.

"What was that?" My fur bristled. I could've cleared a small car with a jump like that. Not normal.

"You're a fox, Starheart," River reminded me. "We are, on average, far more physically capable than the average human. No offense, Nora."

"I could chuck you both across the yard."

"I know. That's why I said average. You and your insane strength are a statistical outlier."

I shook my fur out. At least I'd finally made it up here. I'd been aching with longing to fly again ever since it had last happened. My heart skipped with anticipation.

The sky was vast and bright blue. The only clouds in sight were a handful of faint white cotton balls on the horizon. I didn't know much about flying conditions, but it looked perfect to me.

Seafern twisted to look at us. Their ice blue eyes were piercing. Smoke curled from their nose with every breath. The picture of magnificence. I wished my world had dragons.

"You ready, buddy?" Nora called.

They nodded once. Slowly—almost lazily—they got to their feet and stretched their wings out wide. Their span was wider than my house.

A few strong, well-placed flaps later and we were soaring above the world.

I was prepared for the speed this time, but the sheer glory of the wind in my fur and the sun on my face made me yip with joy. I snapped at the wind rushing past my ears. My tongue lolled out. I could taste the clouds.

Seafern roared, matching my delight. Their green, scaly spine arced as they dove back towards the earth at breakneck speed. The cold, rushing wind brought tears to my eyes. River squeaked and dug her claws into my back. Nora shouted something at us, but I couldn't hear what.

The far away ant-sized trees below quickly grew larger and larger. The blurry sea of green became distinct. We were so close I could see the individual leaves on the branches. So close I almost worried something was wrong.

Then, half a heartbeat before crashing, the great green dragon's wings snapped out again and we shot back up into the sky.

My heart was racing a mile a minute. The entire world was laid out below us, a strange patchwork division of texture and colour. Four different slices of reality stitched together. What was it like to be permanently pulled into a dimension so different from your own? I wondered if anyone ever resented their spiritbonds for changing their lives so radically. I wondered if it was ever hard knowing you could never go home.

Even though I could, at that moment I wasn't so sure I wanted to.

"Look at that." I barely heard River over the wind in my ears.

"What? Where?"

She pointed over my shoulder. "That."

At the base of the mountains, where the vast forest met stone, was a stain. A dark, black, hideous stain like a patch of soul-sucking black mold. The trees were completely shrouded in blackness.

The air turned chilly.

I hadn't realized how big it was. Every nerve in my body wanted to stay as far away from that vile thing as I possibly could. That place of death and sadness had no space in this world. Or any world, really.

But there was something wrong about it. Something deeply unnerving that I couldn't ignore.

I leaned towards Nora. "Can we get closer?"

She looked at me like I was crazy, but she still eased Seafern to fly lower. They didn't seem happy about it, tossing their head and scorching the air with a burst of flame.

We levelled out so close to the trees that Seafern's wingbeats bent the tops.

As we reached the edge of the horrible black mass of trees, my heart dropped like a stone.

I was right.

Nora noticed it, too. "That's… that's really not good."

"What?" River—stuck in the back—strained to see past us. "What's wrong?"

"It's growing," I said in disbelief. "It's growing bigger."

Chapter Fourteen

See? I told you it was perfect!"

The clearing we'd landed in was just wide enough for Seafern to fit. The ground was coated in a thick carpet of leaves. There was a large, rotting stump on one end. The trees here were massive—at least twice the size of the ones near Fable's Reach.

I'd spent the long, windy flight wondering what the fiction realm looked beyond our small town. As it turned out, it wasn't restricted to one media type. The trees around us seemed to be a random blend of all of them. Cartoonish trunks blended with fuzzy felt stumps, all surrounded by hyper-realistic plants and clay bushes. It was wonderful.

The sun was setting, turning the distant mountains to flame. As far as I knew, we were in the middle of nowhere. Nora insisted she knew where we were. I trusted her, but being in the woods at night always filled me with a strangely lonely, hollow feeling. Foxes belonged in the forest. I should enjoy it. I did, mostly.

Maybe it was because of how the nighttime was so much bigger and more all consuming out here. The shadows could swallow up everything inside you and leave you alone with nothing but your most painful thoughts.

The darkness felt even worse, lately. Everywhere I looked I thought I saw malicious red eyes.

"Yes, Nora, it's perfect." River's fur was fluffed up. "It's quite cold, though."

"This is great," I said brightly. "It'll be like camping! I love camping! Are there bears out here? Bears are cute."

Nora started tossing bags off Seafern's back. "If you two go get wood, I can manage here. It won't be so cold once we get a fire started."

"I love fires! Burning things is fun!"

Sometimes I forget to think before I talk.

River tugged on my paw. She seemed more relaxed than usual. "Come on, Starheart. We can carry lots of sticks if we work together."

"Okay!"

The undergrowth wasn't very dense around here, but there was a good scattering of twigs if you looked close enough. Before long, we'd wandered far enough that I couldn't see the camp. I wasn't worried. My nose told me exactly which direction to go.

My clumsy paws were pretty useless, though.

"Starheart, if you keep falling on me, I'm pretty sure you'll crush me to death."

"I'm not that big."

"No, but I am very small." River bonked me on the snout with a stick. "Also, I don't like the idea of you breaking your face. Careful."

"Careful is my middle name," I said, walking directly into a ditch.

Mud tastes horrible.

After collecting a decent number of sticks (and replacing all the soaking wet ones I'd dropped), we started following our scent trail back to camp. River was telling me about all the famous historical figures who'd had character guardians.

"George Washington? Really?"

"Yes. There were a lot of—" She squealed and jumped back.

"What?" I asked. "What is oh, I Hate that Stupid bird

The raven cawed gleefully at me, blocking our way back. My shouting seemed to rile it up. It bounced back and forth and snapped at my toes. I glared at it menacingly. It didn't care.

"Aw, he's a cute little guy." River reached down and patted it on the head.

"It's a good bird," I said, regretting my outburst a little. "I just… I don't understand how it could have followed us this far. I know it was stalking me, but this is excessive."

She wrinkled her snout at me. "What do you mean? How do you know it's the same bird?"

I wasn't sure how to articulate the glittering intelligence I saw in its eyes. "I just do."

She stared at it. It let out a snake-like sound I wasn't sure birds were supposed to make.

"That is not a normal bird, then," she said finally. "I don't know how far or how fast dragons can go. But you're right. It shouldn't have kept up this well."

I scratched my nose. "How do I get rid of it?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. I said I'm not a bird expert. It seems pretty harmless, though. Maybe you don't have to. Maybe it'll get bored."

The raven gave me a look with those horrible beady eyes that said something like you know that's not true.

River shooed the bird away. I bit my tongue. I knew it wouldn't leave. It was one monster or another. You can't pick your demons, but you can learn to live with them. An undeniably cute little bird was definitely better than a soul-sucking monster, even if it was totally ominous and relentless.

The sun was completely gone by the time we made it back. We found Nora huddled between Seafern and a small ring of rocks she'd set up in the clearing.

"Hey!" She brightened when she saw us. "I made a firepit! Whoa, what happened to you?"

I was still covered in mud. My snow-white chest fur was stained a dingy brown. "I ate dirt again."

"Uh oh. Did it taste good, at least?"

We set up a fantastic campfire with a bunch of extra sticks on the side before realizing we'd found a whole new problem.

"We forgot matches?"

"Um. Yeah."

"Those are pretty important."

"I know."

"Are we gonna die?" River worried.

"Not today." Nora poked Seafern in the side. "Hey, buddy. Little help?"

The formerly asleep dragon groaned and lifted their head. With an ever-suffering sigh, they shot a lazy burst of flame at our scraggly pile of twigs.

The heat was glorious. I didn't know how cold I was until I felt the numbness melt out of my skin. I scooted closer and wrapped my fluffy tail around me.

We sat in silence for a while, soaking up the glow that lit up the night. I began to pick up the skitters of distant crickets and mice scuttling through the grass. The claws of a nearby owl scraped against her perch. Those poor mice probably weren't long for the world.

Sleep was tugging at my head again. Drowsiness made me think deeper thoughts. About the universe and stuff.

I've never been good at putting those feelings into words. It's more of this vast feeling in your chest that reminds you that you're simultaneously impossibly small and impossibly impactful.

People sometimes say that nothing we ever do matters, since we're so insignificant to the universe. I don't really believe that. We're small to the universe maybe, but we're pretty big to each other.

We make other people feel things—good or bad—that can change the course of their lives. And maybe ours, too. That definitely matters.

I named myself Starheart because I wanted to be someone who mattered in a good way. A light in a dark world that's always there to guide you home. I always hoped that having a name like that would help me live up to the kind person I wanted to be.

I hoped that someday I could find a way to do that.

"Hey, guys." Nora's voice cut through my thoughts.

I squinted painfully as the smoke shifted right into my eyes. "What?"

"Truth or dare?"

I thought for a second. "Truth."

"What's your worst food combination?"

"Hmm. I put jam on my eggs?"

"That's not that weird. I do that, too."

"Okay, then. I like pineapple on pizza."

Nora made a disgusted sound. "Dude, seriously? Fruit on pizza? Gross."

"It's not that bad!" I protested. "Tomatoes are a fruit too, you know, and I don't see anyone complaining about that."

"Sorry, Starheart. We're enemies now. I have to kill you. I don't make the rules."

I rolled my eyes at her and turned to River. "My turn. Truth or dare?"

"Um… truth?" she said uncertainly.

I'd never been great at coming up with questions, so it took me a few minutes. "If new people could only know one thing about you, what would it be?"

She poked a stick into the fire and watched as the tip burst into flames. "I suppose that I'm not being difficult on purpose. I'm never trying to be rude or upsetting. I'm not terrific at talking, is all. Oh, and sometimes I can't get my voice to work and I need to write things down instead."

I nodded sympathetically.

River poked Nora in the arm. "Truth or dare?"

"Truth. Or… huh. Nobody ever picks dare, do they?"

I scanned the pitch-dark trees. "Well, there's not really very much to do around here."

She shrugged. "Truth or truth is fun, too. What you got, Riv?"

"Who do you hate most in the world?"

"My dad," Nora said instantly.

"Really?" Not much about her dad was ever revealed, but he didn't seem all that bad from what I'd been shown. "Why?"

"That's a second question!" she said cheerfully. "Your turn, Starheart. What's the worst thing you've ever done?"

A fun game to play is betting on how quickly a game of truth or dare will get way too personal. I think we broke the record.

"I don't know," I replied evenly. "I guess I… I scratched my dad's truck while shovelling snow and never told him. That sorta sucked."

"Aww, look at you," Nora teased. "So innocent."

"Starheart's too nice to do evil things," River agreed.

I smiled weakly. This probably wouldn't be a good time to throw up. "I guess it's my turn?"

"Oh, yeah." Nora grinned devilishly. "Do your worst."

I felt like I'd crashed into a wall going full speed down the highway. Fun, until reality hits you in the face. I don't really get to forget my problems often. The dull, throbbing pain in my chest was back.

My need to hide was constantly at war with my need to be honest with them. The longer I wasn't, the more difficult my situation became. I felt horrible for keeping it to myself this long, and it got even worse with every passing minute they didn't know.

But I couldn't say anything. The barest thought of losing them, or them hating me, was more than enough for me to start shaking.

Since when did they matter this much?

I didn't know. All I knew is that they were the only people who had ever really made me feel a spark of joy.

I looked at Nora seriously. "Do you think bad people can change?"

She gave me that same squinting, searching look. I was a puzzle with a piece missing, but she didn't know which one or where it would even have fit. I knew she still had the sense that something was wrong with me. I wouldn't ever let her find out, but the sad part of me needed to throw a portion of it at her to see how she'd react.

She stared into the fire, hugging her knees close. I didn't know what she was thinking. I was starting to regret asking.

"It depends," she said eventually. "What did they do? Are they gonna do it again? Do they feel bad about it? It's… complicated. I think they can, but only if they want to."

I drew a little circle in the dirt with my claw. "That makes sense."

"That doesn't mean they'll be forgiven, though," she added. My mouth went dry again. "They're not owed forgiveness or anything, even if they have become better.

Especially not from the people they hurt. Anyone can change, but not everything is forgivable. You know?"

"Yeah. That makes sense," I repeated. It came out sounding sadder than I wanted it to.

"Are you okay?"

"Fine. Tired. I should sleep." I barely forced the words past the tightness in my throat.

I padded off before they could ask any questions.

I found a nice spot under a tree at the edge of the clearing. It was cozy, as much as the cold hard ground could be. I curled up tightly with my tail over my snout and tried to look like I wasn't listening to my friends whisper about me.

"Did we do something wrong?"

"No. I don't think it's us. Not completely."

I wanted to tell them that it wasn't their fault. There were a million and one things wrong with me, but not a single one was because of them. I was a shattered mess inside, but I was so much more whole than I would've been without them. They weren't the problem. They were the solution.

Funny how a monster like me is so frail and helpless. Funny how I was never tough at all. I was a scared rabbit pretending to be a wolf so nobody saw how wounded I was inside.

Not much of a wolf anymore, my brain taunted me. All your fangs are gone.

That's a good thing, I insisted. I'd rather be helpless and pathetic. I'm better this way. Maybe not for me, but for everyone else, and that's all that matters.

Without your fangs you're nothing but a mess of grief.

Then let me be a mess. Let me be broken. Because if I'm not the broken one, other people suffer.

I was never meant to be whole.

Sometimes I'm afraid that I already am living up to my name, and that this is all that stars really are: beautiful from a distance, but far too dangerous and painful to get close to. Destined to be alone, surrounded by lights so much like them, but forever too far away to be truly close to any of them.

Stars are lonely things.

Chapter Fifteen

Road trips are really boring without movies.

My back ached and my face was sore from the blustery wind. Two days of nonstop flying with absolutely nothing to entertain yourself is enough to put pretty much anyone into a boredom-induced coma.

The first few hours were fun, of course. River and I made a game of seeing who could spot the most interesting things down below. I saw a wolf, a forest fire, and three lakes that looked like a smiley face. She saw a herd of elk and something that looked suspiciously like a dead body.

There were only so many cool things in the world, though, and eventually we fell into silence.

Thankfully, my friends had been nice enough to mostly ignore my quiet breakdown from the night before. Aside from them acting a little overly friendly and asking a few pointed questions that I was very careful not to answer, it was easy enough to deal with.

The long flight gave me a little too much time to think. I found myself wondering what my parents were doing without me, and how much me not coming home must have hurt them. They were probably doing all sorts of things with doctors and other smart important people to try and wake me up, not knowing that nothing they did would ever work.

Nora said it wasn't my fault. My heart said otherwise. I was the one who never came back. I never even tried to face the Shadow and find my portal. I might as well have spat in their faces and told them to die.

My nerves were building the closer we got to the mountain. What if there wasn't a solution? What if there was one, but I screwed it up somehow? What if the Shadow killed me before I could do anything?

I think I'd miss my friends if I was dead. They were maybe the only thing I'd really be sad about leaving behind. Then again, if I was dead, I wouldn't be missing anyone or anything at all. I wouldn't have the capacity to grieve. I'd be feeling nothing at all.

I spent a little too much time thinking about death that day.

Nobody had said anything in at least an hour when Nora said, "We're here."

"Really?" All the mountains looked pretty much the same to me.

She pointed down at a dark, gaping hole near the top of one of the peaks. A cave, with a narrow, twisting, scary-looking path leading up to it.

"Are we gonna have to walk all that way?" I asked in dismay. As much as I loved nature, I'd never been great at outdoorsy stuff. Terribly ironic for someone with a fox's soul, I knew. But there were too many sharp sticks and slippery rocks and my clumsy paws always found a way to betray me. I'd definitely fall right off the cliff face. At least I'd die in my natural habitat.

"Nah." Nora steered Seafern lower. "We can fly right there. The top is flat, see? Perfect place to lah

We hit a wall. At least, that was what it felt like. Seafern slammed into a seemingly empty patch of air so hard that all three of us almost went flying off. They let out an ear-splitting roar of agony as their head snapped back and their wings crumpled. For a moment, it felt like they were hanging in the air.

Then they fell.

My flailing paws caught Nora in the back of the head. River dug her claws into my shoulders so hard I smelled my own blood. The rushing wind left me blind and deaf.

My friends were shouting. I was shouting. I couldn't begin to understand what anyone was saying.

Electricity coursed through my veins as we dropped like a stone towards the unforgiving ground below.

Terrifying images flashed through my head of every horror movie and survival show I'd ever seen. My dumb, panic-ridden brain was trying to figure out how to survive a two-kilometer drop.

Seafern thrashed violently, and then a new wave of force hit us from below as their wings caught the air with only half a meter between us and the treetops. Fear was pouring off the dragon in waves. They tucked in their wings and shot down into a small clearing in the forest below.

Everyone was quiet for a second. Then panic set in.

"What was that?" I yelped, unhooking River's claws from my flesh.

She looked like she was trying not to cry. Trembling, I pulled her close and she buried her face in my chest fur.

Nora had already jumped down and was trying to console a blindly terrified Seafern. "I don't know. I don't know. I've never seen anything like that." Even she looked shaken. "Are you guys okay?"

My shoulders stung and one of my paws was cramping up from tensing so hard, but I didn't think I was seriously hurt. "Yeah. I'm okay."

River nodded and wiped her eyes.

Seafern was still twisting and shaking. I decided it was probably a good time to get off. River dropped down next to me.

Nora had a hand on the panicked dragon's scaly snout, whispering reassuring, calming words. Gradually, their fear scent faded and their heaving chest slowed.

"That's it, Fern. It's okay. We're okay."

She was so gentle when she needed to be. I wished I could be like that—someone who's tough and kind at the same time. I always ended up swinging too far in one direction.

River was sticking very close to me. She had that jumpy energy about her that she always got when she had something to say.

"What're you thinking?" I asked her.

Her face lit up. "Well, I was thinking about the witch and everything I know about her. She played a pretty significant role in history, you know. Reportedly, she's been around since the 1600s."

"Really? I didn't think they'd have stories about witches back then. Y'know, they were pretty…"

She nodded enthusiastically. "I know. That's part of what makes her so interesting. Nobody knows where she came from—all we know is that she was known for practicing a powerful form of magic which, surprisingly, the townsfolk tolerated. Then I guess they got tired of it and tried to drive her out.

She was furious and cast this huge spell over all of Fable's Reach that made everyone's crops die and all the ravens disappear. The crops came back, but the ravens didn't. Until yours, at least. I wonder if that means anything.

I can't really say I blame people for driving her out. I mean, if I found a pile of infant's bones with human teeth marks in them, I'd be pretty freaked out t—"

"They found What?

She shrugged. "Well, I never said she was a good person."

I shivered. "Being a bad person is one thing. Eating babies is another."

"Who's eating babies?" Nora appeared next to me.

"The witch we're going to see," River informed her.

"Ew. What? Seriously?"

"Allegidly. It was never proven. There's speculation that the townsfolk were looking for an excuse to blame her. Someone back then was eating babies, though."

"Well. That's… not comforting."

"If it helps, it was only babies," River said. "We're not babies. So, we'll be fine. Probably."

I ran my paw along the fur of my arm. "What makes you think she'll help us, if she hates Fable's Reach so much?"

"She's helped people before." River's fur was fluffing up against the evening chill. "She's willing to make trades, I suppose. We don't really have any other options but to at least try."

Nora cast a sad look at her sword. I whined reassuringly, and she gave me an uneasy half smile.

I wished there was an easy way to make her feel better, but I knew losing Dragonheart would be like losing a piece of her soul. There had to be a better price to pay than this.

River squinted up at the mountain. "Are we going to try that again?"

Seafern moaned fearfully and shook their head.

"Not with you," Nora promised them. "Whatever that was, I don't think any of us want it to repeat it."

They nodded thankfully and nuzzled her hair.

My spine prickled. Seafern wasn't someone who was easily afraid. I knew falling out of the sky and nearly dying was probably more than enough to do that to a dragon—even one who'd been to war—but I didn't like the feeling the mountain gave me. It was unnatural. Like something that was never supposed to exist. Something living beings were never supposed to see. 'Abomination' felt like an appropriate word.

Maybe I was being paranoid. Who wouldn't be, knowing that this was their only hope of saving the world?

"The walk won't be as long as it looks," I told everyone. "An hour tops." I'd climbed way bigger mountains with my family.

River stuck her claws in her mouth and bit them hard. "Are we going tonight? It's already dark."

Nora looked at me. "I don't wanna delay any more, but Starheart probably needs to—"

"I don't need to sleep!" I jumped in. "I don't feel tired at all! I don't think I'd sleep a wink if I had to wait."

Nora nodded. "It's killing me, too. I say it's better to get it over with."

After promising Seafern we'd be back by sunrise, the three of us set out up the narrow, twisting mountain path. Blindly. In the pitch dark. Because Nora had forgotten to pack flashlight batteries.

"I didn't think it would need batteries!" she exclaimed. "Why would it be empty? It's not supposed to be empty!"

"You took the batteries out, remember?" River told her. "To get our remote-controlled car to work."

She was quiet for a second. "Right. I did do that. Oops."

In a shocking turn of events, I was no longer the most accident-prone person in our group. Being able to see more than a centimeter in front of my face had its advantages. After nearly losing Nora off a cliff for the third time in a row, we decided to hold onto her.

"You guys are lucky," she said wistfully. "Humans feel pretty lame sometimes. You have sick eyes, and you can jump super high, and you're probably not freezing cold right now…"

"At least you can eat chocolate," River said sadly.

Oh, shoot! I shouted. They both jumped. "I can't eat chocolate anymore!"

"Dude, I thought someone was gonna stab us." Nora scolded me.

"Sorry. But this is the most tragic loss I've ever experienced."

The unsettled feeling in my bones worsened the higher up we got. The deep, overwhelming sense of incorrectness permeated every breath I drew. It took me a long time to realize why.

Dead silence. No bugs, no wind, no rustling of unseen critters. I hadn't experienced this much pure quiet since I was in my human form. It was like everything that had once been alive on this mountain had long since fled.

I knew it bothered River, too. She kept glancing over at me like she was worried I'd disappear.

My grip on Nora's arm was the only thing keeping me grounded. If she didn't need me to get back down, I might've turned tail and fled this nasty place a long time ago.

That probably made me a coward. A selfish coward, too. But I was too tired to fight with the brain demon about that.

I still hadn't gotten used to how bright the stars were in the fiction realm. Back home in the city, it was only a few pinpricks of light. Whenever we were driving home late in the dark, I'd look out into the night sky and think about how it was an endless void of nothing but the occasional flame. It made me feel so strange. Almost frightened by the size of it all. Was that how ants felt when they saw us? Like we were creatures too big and magnificent to comprehend?

My sister thought it was stupid when I told her. "Ants aren't that smart, Isabella. They don't think like we do."

Maybe they didn't. But that just made me wonder about these things more. Why could I dream about distant worlds when they couldn't? What made me special enough—or unlucky enough—to question my purpose in the universe?

Maybe ants do dream. Maybe we don't give them enough credit. We're all just ants to stars, aren't we?

We reached a rockfall. The only way forward was to climb. River went first, springing from rock to rock with expert ease. I was a little slower, my pawsteps more careful. Aside from a new bruise on my leg, I made it to the top okay. We both reached down to haul Nora up after us.

"Thanks," she said. "This would be way easier with Seafern. I hope they're okay. They really don't like it when I leave."

River brushed dirt off her sleeve. "How did you end up with a dragon, anyway?"

I gave her a surprised look. "You don't know? Have you guys never seen each other's shows?"

"Nope," said Nora. "I don't even like seeing my own. Way too much existential dread."

I considered that. "Fair enough. I probably wouldn't like watching myself, either."

"I found Seafern when they were a baby," Nora explained. "They were a bit… different."

"Different how?" River asked.

"Male and female dragons of their species look different. They've got traits of both. The Dragonmaster thought that made them weak. He wanted me to kill them." She stepped gingerly over a loose rock.

"Wow." River blinked at her. "What did you do?"

"I told him that was a completely and totally stupid idea and I kept Seafern anyway. Lo and behold, they turned out fine. Idiot."

That was definitely a simplified version. It was a bit darker and a lot more complicated than that, but I couldn't blame her for not wanting to get into it.

My paws were aching to an unbearable degree by the time we neared the top. The only thing I was really thinking about was having to make the same trip back down.

The path had narrowed so much we were walking single file with me up front and River in the back. It was a truly nerve-wracking experience, with a solid rock wall on one side and a seemingly endless drop on the other. I'd never been scared of heights, but it was enough to set me on edge. Worse yet, I smelled rainclouds blowing in.

I inched around the corner and found a much wider, open plateau of rock maybe the size of our living room. At the other end was a massive cliff face with a wide, gaping maw of a hole in it, the edges jagged like fangs.

"Is that it?" River whispered. "How are we supposed to know it's the right one?"

As if on cue, the cave began to glow. Strange, ancient marks that shone bright blue covered the walls. The patterns spread out of the cave like a river, forming a dazzling path.

"That seems like a pretty good sign," Nora whispered back.

We crept closer. The blue marks made my paws tingle. I peered inside, but the tunnel was too long and winding to see the end. We'd have to go in blind.

I could be brave. Heroes had to be brave. That didn't mean they were never scared. My friends were the most heroic people I knew, and I could sense the same unease coming from them.

Slowly, silently, we entered the cave. The echo of our footsteps was painfully loud. Any witch in this place had to know we were here.

That was not a comforting thought.

Nora and River were a pace behind me. Occasionally, I'd brush my tail against their legs to be sure I hadn't lost them.

My ears caught faint sounds up ahead. The flicker of fire, the rush of water. Maybe even the sounds of footsteps running away, if my traitorous brain hadn't made those up.

The glow was getting brighter. It wasn't just the runes anymore. There was something in the tunnel up ahead, right around the corner…

The tunnel opened into a cavern big enough to fit my house and still have room to spare. Most of the floor space was taken up by a pool with an ethereal turquoise glow. The rest of the cave was lined with shelves that held strange, disturbing things. What looked like an old, wooden boat was propped up against the back wall.

There was nobody there. Despite the lingering sour smell of a woman older than time, it was empty.

"Why don't we split up and look around?" Nora suggested. "She might've left something useful."

I agreed and started combing through the shelves to the left of the pool, which turned out to be terrifying at worst and confusing at best. I found a small, cloth doll that smelled as ancient as it was dusty; a pile of strange, green, spongy things that I couldn't make sense of; several jars of human toenails; and a bright pink sphere that filled me with a disproportionate, unspeakable terror the moment I touched it. There was also a very tiny bear statue that came to life and bit my finger when I poked it. That was when I decided to stop touching things.

A small, yellow ball rolled off the top shelf and bonked me on the snout. I picked it up and it split into two hollow halves. Inside was a note: Darkness craves the innocent; monsters crave the darkness.

I wasn't sure how to make sense of that, so I stuffed it into an empty jar where it immediately vanished into a cloud of purple smoke that smelled awfully like hot dogs.

I sighed and glanced back at my friends. They didn't seem to be having any more luck than me.

A tiny crash caught my attention. The little bear was running back and forth across the shelf, roaring at me.

"I know," I said. "I'm sorry I bothered you. I didn't mean to."

To my surprise, it calmed down. Its carved wooden fur rippled as it sat down and looked at me.

"How long have you been here?" I asked.

"Grrrrawr," it said.

"Starheart!" River hissed. "Come here!"

She and Nora were back near the entrance. I trotted over. "What? What's going on?"

She pointed to a doorway roughly hacked into the back wall of the cave.

I frowned. "That wasn't there before."

"I know. Listen."

More footsteps, getting louder this time. They were heavy and uneven. Whoever they belonged to had a serious limp.

"Is that—"

"I think so."

For an agonizing few seconds, the three of us waited in silence. Nobody moved. Nobody spoke. Nora had her sword half drawn. River edged behind me.

The witch arrived.

She was tiny—ever smaller than River. She stood hunched over and her skin was wrinkled and scarred. Both her eyes appeared milky, but it looked like she could see perfectly well—her gaze darted between the three of us. A familiar black bird was perched on her shoulder.

Nora recovered first. "Hey! Sorry we, uh, sorta broke in." The witch's eyes snapped towards her, but she didn't flinch. "The thing is, something really bad is going on, and we—"

The witch began to scream.

It was so painfully loud it stung my ears. It was a scream of pure terror and rage that activated the deepest of my survival instincts. She pulled a jar from one of her deep robe pockets and sprinted towards us faster than I'd seen anyone move before.

Her eyes were fixed directly on me.

Fear froze my paws to the ground. I could only watch as she drew her arm back and threw the jar at me. It sailed through the air in slow motion, hit me square in the chest, and exploded into little shards on the stone below.

I yelped—more in shock than in pain—and stumbled back directly into River. Off balance and panicked, we both went crashing into the pool.

I floundered for a moment before realizing how shallow it was. I sat up, trying to shake the water out of my eyes. It was sickeningly sweet and burned my nose.

Nora waded in after us without hesitation and tried to pull me to my paws.

Was the water glowing brighter?

Dizzy and confused, the last thing I registered was the witch screaming insults before the world exploded into unimaginable light.

Chapter Sixteen

I was getting really tired of dark voids.

Seriously, why did it always have to be a dark void? Why not a white one? Or a pink one? A pink void at least would've been more interesting.

My pawsteps echoed forever in the vast space. My friends were completely gone, as far as I could tell. The familiarity of it all was unsettling. How long would it take for this to turn into a nightmare again?

I huffed a tired sigh and sat down right where I was.

I hoped my friends were okay. I hoped River wasn't too freaked out. She wasn't used to these strange, out of reality places like I was. Actually, I'd feel a lot better if she was with me, too.

I always did. I loved how she always snuck in little facts about things. If she were here, she'd probably find a way to ramble about the history of darkness.

I thought again about the night at the cliff. It was so strange to me how she was so convinced she was irritating when everything she did made happy squeaks bubble up in my chest. She was sort of… perfect.

Creeeaaak.

I jolted. It sounded like an ancient door being forced open. I looked around, but there was nothing.

Everything was quiet long enough for me to think it was all in my head.

And then it happened again.

I scrambled to my paws, and the colours poured in.

Every colour imaginable, in every shade under the sun. They rushed in from the unseen edges of the dark world, spiraling brighter and faster and wilder like an out of control kaleidoscope that filled the whole universe. I almost collapsed again from the dizzying sight.

And then, right when I thought it would never end, they settled down and formed recognizable shapes.

I was in a room. A bedroom, and a pretty plain one. The bedsheets were a muted grey and the only picture on the walls was a single band poster. A very barren contrast to my own.

Regardless, it was familiar. This was Nora's room. Not the one from the cabin, but the one from before the dragonriders. I'd only ever seen a brief glimpse of it, but I recognized it well enough.

How was I here? Was any of this real? Was the pool some sort of weird portal?

How was I supposed to get back?

The last of the colours stopped moving, and I realized I wasn't alone. Nora was standing next to the window with her back to me.

"Oh, thank goodness," I said. "Where's River?"

She didn't answer me. A little put off, I tried again. "Nora?"

This time she did turn around. I went to give her a relieved hug and she…

Walked right through me?

"Gahh!" I yelped. It felt like my entire body hit its funny bone. Not necessarily painful, but still deeply unpleasant.

Shocked, I whirled around to face her. She'd crossed the room and was sitting at a desk by the door. I cautiously crept closer. She didn't acknowledge me at all. Not even when I stuck my paw through her face.

Unnatural.

So not real, then. She was an illusion of some kind. All of this was. What was the point of this?

"What was in that water?" I muttered to myself.

Nora was writing something down. I leaned closer to read over her shoulder. It was a math worksheet of some kind, filled with various equations on things I had definitely learned at some point, but had completely forgotten by now.

It wasn't the math that shocked me. It was Nora's rough, barely legible printing in the top left corner that raised a million new questions in my head.

December 3rd, 2022.

I couldn't remember exactly what day today was, but it was definitely supposed to be April of 2025. I'd been knocked over two years into the past.

I stood there, dumbfounded and unsure of what to do about this. There was a thread of anxiety in my heart that worried I wouldn't be able to get back.

Buzz.

Her phone lit up. A picture of a small, white, one-eyed cat stared up at me from the screen. There was a notification at the bottom.

1 new message from: Tyrannical Overlord

Come eat. I made dinner.

She made a furious noise that sounded a lot like a growl and aggressively clicked it off again. "I don't want your stupid, overcooked food."

I gave ghost Nora a confused look. Why so angry?

The phone buzzed again almost immediately.

2 new messages from: Tyrannical Overlord

Now.

She growled again and stormed out the door.

I followed her through a drab hallway. She led me into a small, uncomfortably hot kitchen with a table in one corner.

I recognized her parents. They didn't look any different from how they did on T.V. Nonetheless, something was very off in a way that put my hackles up immediately.

Nora's dad was absolutely radiating hate-filled waves so intense it knocked me back a step. Rage wrapped up in disgust and spotted with faint sparks of sickening glee. It was the blackest thing I'd ever smelled. My ears flattened before I could stop them.

Something was deeply wrong here. Something was deeply wrong with him.

He didn't look at me, of course. None of them did.

Nora hesitated in the doorway, her eyes flitting nervously between the two of them. She was jumpy. Tense. Not something I usually saw on her.

"Where's Josh?" she asked finally.

"Your brother is working late," her dad answered. There wasn't the faintest trace of his inner feelings in his tone. He sounded completely calm. Happy, even.

It only made me more uneasy.

Nora joined them at the table. I tried to pull out the chair next to her but quickly gave up when it refused to budge. Clearly, I couldn't mess with things in this world more than I was allowed to.

"How was your day?" Nora's mother asked.

She snorted. "Whatever. Fine, I guess. Didn't suck any more than usual."

I'd seen Nora mad before, but her aggression always had a point. This version of her seemed to radiate a thoughtless anger that didn't fit the Nora I knew. She smelled bitter and upset, and her eyes held no trace of happiness. Her spark simply wasn't there, and it made me want to whimper with grief.

What happened to you?

The whole room was painfully silent. Nobody spoke to each other. Nobody even looked at each other. The tension was heavier than a ton of bricks. I was seized by a desperate urge to leave, but my curiosity and my unwillingness to abandon Nora kept my paws rooted to the floor.

As the uncomfortable minutes passed, I noticed her dad shooting her looks through narrowed eyes. Angry, cruel looks. Like how I'd imagine a hawk would look at a mouse or a particularly juicy bug.

"Were you aware," he said slowly. "That our son has been lying to us?"

Son? I wondered briefly.

It hit me a second later. Oh. Oh no.

Poor Nora. Her general air of misery instantly made a lot more sense.

Her mother glanced between the two of them, looking worried. "Oh? About what?"

Nora stiffened. "I'm not lying about anything," she said evenly.

His eyes narrowed. "Are you sure about that? No secrets? Nothing you'd like to tell us, Nora?"

My heart jumped as her fear spiked into full-blown panic.

"I don't know what you're talking about," she said.

"I think you do."

"Would someone tell me what's going on?" her mother piped up. Her voice was tense.

He looked somewhere between disgustingly smug and furious. "He's been going around pretending to be a girl at school."

Her mother made a heartbroken sound.

Nora bristled. "Maybe it's none of your business."

His anger flared, hot and fierce. He was seconds away from boiling over. "Of course it's my business. Do you think I want people to assume I'm okay with my son parading around like some gay freak? What's wrong with you?"

"Shut up!" she snapped.

"Don't tell me to shut up!" He was on his feet by then, towering over her. His hatred filled the room like a dark, black cloud. "Explain yourself. Now!"

I felt like I'd walked into a nightmare. I wanted to stop this. There was nothing to do but watch.

Nora took a few sharp, trembling breaths before the fear melted out of her eyes. It was replaced with a cold, angry, resignation. The look of someone tired of fighting.

The look of someone who had nothing left to lose.

"Fine. You want the truth?" She stood up, too, meeting his glare with equal fury. "I'm not your son. I've never been your son. I'm a girl."

There was a terrible silence.

"Get out." Her father's voice was dangerously quiet.

"What?"

"You heard me. Get out. You are not welcome in my house."

Nora turned to her mother. "Are you just going to let him do this?" Her voice was thick with disbelief and hurt. Any trace of her previous courage had vanished in an instant.

Her mother's gaze was fixed on the table. I could see her quivering. She was afraid, too. "Maybe it would be best if you stayed somewhere else for a while."

I was quaking with my own rage by then. I couldn't remember ever wanting to bite someone quite that badly.

Nora's eyes were wide and desperate. "But I don't have anywhere else to—"

Her father slammed a fist down on the table. Both of us flinched. "Get out!"

I'd never seen Nora that afraid before. The emotions pouring off her was enough to make me feel sick. She still clenched her fists and spat out her words like venom.

"Fine. I don't care. I hate you both. I hope I never see you again."

She fled the room. Briefly torn between wanting to snarl at her dad more and needing to follow her, I instinctively chose the latter.

She needed me. I didn't know how I could help someone who couldn't see or hear me, but I had to try.

I found her in the front entrance. She ripped a black backpack off its hook and—not even bothering to close the front door behind her—took off down the street.

My head was spinning. None of this was right. None of this was supposed to happen. I'd seen Dragon's Call at least seven times from start to finish. I could recite the script from memory. This never happened.

Of course they left it out, I thought bitterly. They couldn't even handler her being trans in the first place.

What other massive details had been abandoned in the show for the sake of playing it safe? Was anything I saw accurate?

I decided now was not the time to worry about that.

Nora had her hood pulled down low over her face. Automatically, I reached out to touch her, only to be met with the same bone-jarring feeling as my arm passed through her.

"It's going to be okay," I tried to reassure her. No reaction, of course.

I'm not sure it would have helped anyway. Those words would've been completely useless in the wake of what happened. It wasn't okay. None of this was okay.

I never knew what to do about deep pains like this. All my comforting words ended up sounding hollow at best and condescending at worst. I wished I was smarter, or wiser, or kinder. Then I could find those magic words deep inside me that made everyone feel better—just like they did on T.V.

But I wasn't smarter, wiser, or kinder. I was just me. Just Starheart. All I had was this deep, throbbing ache in my chest that constantly bled the urge to fix everything and everyone, with no way of going about it. It killed me, really. Nobody deserved this, least of all Nora. Seeing her so grief stricken cracked my chest in two.

All I could do was follow her. So, I did.

She was walking so fast I had to trot to keep up. Her head was low, and her breathing came fast and sharp. I wondered if she had a plan, or if we were just trying to get as far away from that awful house as we could. The air was stiflingly hot and humid with recent rain. A palm tree dumped a huge gush of water through me as I brushed past. It soaked Nora's shoes. She didn't slow down.

It felt like an eternity before we reached a park. It wasn't very big—only a swing set and a baseball diamond surrounded by a rusty chain-link fence that smelled like dog pee and mud. Almost completely deserted save for a chipped red minivan driving past.

Nora stood quietly for a second, her hands gripping her backpack straps tight. Her eyes were squeezed shut like she was trying to end a nightmare. Then she sank to the ground against the fence and started digging frantically through her backpack. Her hands shook as she unzipped pocket after pocket, even the little ones at the front that nobody ever used.

Slowly, her fast-paced panic was replaced with a slower, more accepting kind of horror. Whatever she was looking for—or lack thereof—must have been important. A few minutes later, she kicked the bag away and buried her face in her knees.

I sat as close as I could get without touching her. She was crying by then—it made a hard lump rise in my own throat. An overwhelming anxiety strangled me and made it near impossible to breathe. I'd give up all my oxygen to make her feel better. I hoped she knew that.

Would she ever know that?

If there was anything I could do to help her, any possible way to make her see that I was here…

I tried. I really did. Throwing leaves, kicking old cans, barking as loud as I could. Nothing, nothing, nothing. I finally sat back against the fence and glared up at the clouds.

"Why would you show me this if you weren't going to let me help?" I pleaded.

The clouds did not speak.

I could smell rain coming, though. Distant thunder sent tremors through the rapidly darkening sky. It wouldn't be safe out here much longer.

A car slowed to a halt in the street in front of us. I noted with slight concern that it was the same minivan that drove past a few minutes earlier.

A woman got out. She was watching Nora with an expression of wary concern. My friend didn't look up. The woman hesitated on the curb for five seconds or so, clearly at war with herself over something. Admittedly, I felt a lot better now knowing the owner of the car was not a man, but the sudden appearance of a strange person approaching Nora in such a vulnerable state still sent my fur prickling in a surge of protectiveness.

"Hey," the woman called. Nora flinched in surprise, finally looking up. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." Her voice was wobbly, with undertones of unmistakable wariness. She tugged her backpack close.

"Are you sure, hon?" she took a step closer. "There's nothing I can do for you?"

"I'm sure," Nora replied, much more steadily. She was already on her feet with her backpack slung over one shoulder. "Everything's fine."

The woman frowned. "If you need me to call your parents—"

I felt the fear bolt through her as clearly as if it were in my own bones.

"I was just going home," she called over her shoulder, already inching away.

"Well, alright, son. Take care of yourself."

"Right," Nora muttered. "Yeah. Thanks."

The world got darker and darker as we wove through the neighborhood. The streetlights flickered on with a gentle hummm, attracting clouds of confused moths, fluttering hopelessly around tiny, false stars. I heard her heart tick faster the darker it got. Her nerves matched my own. This was not safe by any means—my mother wouldn't even let me pop over to the gas station down the street for chips when it got too dark.

She always said something about shadows attracting strange people, and nighttime streets being no place for a lone girl. Nine-year-old me had always been furious at the unfairness of it all. I still was, but my frustration now was less directed at my mom and more directed at the world that made it unsafe to do that in the first place. I spent lots of those nights thinking about how much better my life would be if I had fangs and claws.

Nobody would ever hurt me then. Nobody would even try. I could defend myself, and nobody would look at me like prey just for being female. I'd be free. Free to exist, free to be wild, free to go see fireflies and owls and the northern lights and every other beautiful thing of the night I'd been deprived of my whole life.

I had my fangs and claws now, but they were completely and totally useless. I couldn't protect Nora if I tried. The Nora I knew didn't need protecting—she'd always been the one to protect me and my clumsy, too trusting heart—but this Nora, this young, scared, untrained Nora from before the days that made her a warrior, was very different.

This was a child in the scariest situation imaginable.

"Where are we going?" I asked. I wasn't even hoping for a response anymore, but talking to her brought me a small comfort.

Her eyes were fixed on the ground, but she was walking with more intention than before. We climbed a hill and turned into an open square.

It was a large, circular public garden surrounded by cobbled walking paths and an old, weathered house with a donation box out front. Patches of trees spotted the area, towering over countless flowers. It would've been beautiful, if things had been any better.

She hesitated—looking left and right—before inching through the gate and into the park. I padded quietly after her. The whole place was understandably abandoned, though it was easy to imagine the life it teemed with during the day. The scents of happy children and their watchful parents still filled my nose.

There was a bench in the middle of the square. A bland, normal-looking city bench, complete with realtor ads and graffiti. It stuck out like a sore thumb compared to the ornate garden around us. Nora was giving it a disappointed look, like it was personally responsible for everything that had happened that day.

I could guess what she was thinking, and it wasn't ideal. Like a lot of city benches, it had a hard, jutting piece of metal dividing it in two. Some sort of armrest, I'd always assumed. Though now, in my sleep-addled, stressed out, upset brain, it felt more malicious.

Like an intentional hindrance. I couldn't help but wonder if it was.

The rain was falling by then, soaking my fur. Disgust flickered in her eyes as she quietly warred with herself.

Finally, she sighed and slid her backpack under the bench and crawled after it. I followed. There was barely enough space for me to fit between her and the brick wall behind the bench. The pavement was hard and filthy, and the countless pieces of gum stuck to the bottom of the seat made my stomach churn. It was out of the rain, at least. Sort of. Water still dripped through the cracks between slats, splashing on my nose every few seconds.

She looked so, so small, curled up and shivering with a half-empty backpack as a pillow. A flash of almost unbearable anger washed over me. I hated her parents for this. I hated them with a fur-bristling passion. You had to be a brand-new kind of heartless to subject someone to this. To strip away their dignity and safety for the sake of upholding some stupid, hurtful belief with no basis in reality.

If this was real—and I was very sure it was, by that point—I was going to give her the biggest hug in the world.

Anger was one of my least favourite emotions. I hated what it turned me into. I hated how it was so hard to control. Mostly, I hated how it always ended up hurting people. This time, though?

I didn't feel conflicted. It felt justified. Very justified.

Yeah, I thought, resting my head on my paws with a decisive huff. This is worth being angry over.

She was worth that anger. She was worth a lot of things. My feelings were brighter around her, like someone turned the volume knob on my heart up to max. All my doubts about feeling things faded to the background, too. Being angry on her behalf didn't spark my familiar agonizing. Being happy didn't raise as many questions about me deserving it.

I'd feel all that doubt later, of course. It was waiting. But for now, I was happy to leave it be.

"I know it doesn't make sense now," I whispered. "But you're going to be alright. This isn't forever. Someday you'll be safe again.

Someday you won't have to be afraid, because you'll have people who love you." I leaned closer, until my nose almost brushed her ear. Her scent was a wonderful thing.

"We love you. And I swear on my life I'd cut off my own tail before I abandoned you."

Creeeaak.

What—?

The colours started spinning again.

"Wait!" I cried. "Not yet! I don't want to go!"

They didn't listen. The world swirled faster and faster. I tried to jump up and slammed my head into the underside of the bench. Everything was blurring, melting, shifting, and before I knew it darkness leaked back into the edges of my vision and everything went black again.

Chapter Seventeen

The void was almost comforting this time. Like a cozy, dark blanket that soothed my spinning head.

I didn't know what to do with everything I'd seen. I was torn between anger, sadness, and worry. I couldn't figure out which to feel first.

I tugged at my ears anxiously. Why wasn't the darkness going away, if the vision was over? Was I still underwater? I'd better not be. It had been so long…

My legs ached from walking so far, and I missed my friends a lot. Did they see that too?

Creeak.

This time, the room I was dropped in was unspeakably cold and unfriendly. It was some kind of medical examination room. Every surface was either pure white or glittering stainless steel.

It had a sharp, sterilized stench that failed to mask the distant traces of blood and fear in the air. The only light came from dim fluorescents buzzing overhead. My claws scraped uncomfortably against the slick tile, and there was a terrifying looking metal cage mounted on top of a large table in the centre of the room.

I stood there frozen, my chest rising and falling as I breethd in the scents of this place. It was uncomfortably hot, despite its cool appearance.

There were people approaching the room from behind a door. They were talking, but I couldn't make out anything they were saying. One of the voices was high pitched with youth.

Keys jingled in the lock, and I look a wary half step back. Their conversation became clear as the door swung open.

"—Right this way, love. It won't take long."

"What are we doing?"

"A simple little test, you'll see. It won't hurt at all."

There were two adults leading a small Japanese girl by the hand. She was very young—maybe twelve years old? Eight? Six?

Okay, so I wasn't great at guessing people's ages. But she was small, and definitely younger than I was by a lot. She was looking around curiously, and she seemed a little afraid. She didn't try to move away from the adults with her.

Both of them—a short, round, kind-looking woman and a very sharp man who looked like the world's strictest math teacher—were dressed in official lab coats. Both smelled like fur and animals, dead and alive.

"Just relax and cooperate, and you'll get jellybeans. Won't that be nice?" the woman said sweetly.

The girl blinked up at her. "Then I can go home?"

"Yes. Then you'll go home."

The man snorted. The woman shot him a venomous look.

My eyes narrowed. What are you up to?

The woman lifted the girl into the cage and shut the door. "So you don't fall off," she promised. I couldn't help but notice her snapping shut a thick, heavy padlock.

My ears flattened. I could only watch as the woman took a long, sharp syringe out of her pocket and removed the cap.

The girl tensed. The woman smiled at her. It didn't reach her eyes. "One little poke, then it'll be over."

After a moment's hesitation, the girl scooted closer and stuck her arm through the bars. She squeezed her eyes shut as the woman slid the needle into her skin. The man watched it all with a faintly bored expression.

He kept scratching his lower lip. His eyes were trained carefully away from the girl.

"There. That wasn't so hard, was it? Now do you wish you were calmer?" the woman cooed. She seemed so… false. Like when you trip and expect soft grass, only to scrape your knees on fake turf. She reminded me of a cruel nurse I met at the hospital when I sprained my ankle.

The girl peered through the cage. "Can I come out now?"

The two adults were backing away towards the door. Without a word, they flipped off the lights and slammed the door shut, fleeing like the building was on fire. I heard the lock click.

We were alone.

The girl's quiet cooperation turned to a slowly building fear. She rattled the cage door and pulled at the lock to no avail.

"Hello? Please come back. I don't like the dark."

No response.

She made small, scared, squeaky sounds as she breethd. My claws click click clicked as I padded closer, circling the cage from all angles. For once, I was glad these vision people couldn't see me. The poor thing was terrified enough without a large, fanged creature like me hanging around in the shadows like a supernatural predator.

"Please?" she tried again. "I want my… I want to go home. I don't feel good."

Her skin was flushing warmer. I could smell a sharp pain coming from her that was growing stronger all the while. Her heart skipped and stuttered, puttering along at a rhythm so irregular I was worried she'd die right there and then.

I panted nervously. What did they give you? What's going to happen?

She cried out and clutched her head. She jerked back as she did so, slamming her skull on the metal bars with an awful clang. Her scent changed in an instant, becoming strangely sharp and sour.

I paced, whimper-growling. My nose told me something terrible was about to happen to her, and my helplessness reduced me to the level of a frightened, caged creature. My animal brain always seemed at its strongest when I felt intense emotions—positive or negative. It had definitely caused me some problems back home. The yippy shocked sounds I made when someone bumped into me or pulled my tail were endlessly entertaining to the people who picked on me.

The girl was shaking from head to toe. It took me a minute to realize it wasn't from fear. Her muscles were seizing up. Intense spasms gripped her entire body, and she collapsed to the bottom of the cage. The sour reek of vomit filled the air as liquid bubbled from her mouth.

An awful screech pierced the room. I realized it was my claws scraping against the metal table. My snout was pressed as close as I could get it to the cage, desperately breathing in her scent, hoping for some sort of sign that she'd be okay. My heart twisted painfully for this poor, helpless soul. No kid could ever do something to deserve this.

Who was she? Why was I seeing this? The last vision I could understand—I knew Nora. It made sense.

It explained something, at least. But this mystery girl—who I was positive I'd never seen before in my life—left me with more questions than answers. There was something faintly familiar about her scent, though it was so muddled with pain, fear, and the chemicals in the room that I lost it almost immediately. So distant, and so brief, that I was sure I'd imagined it. Like a familiar voice calling my name right as I was about to fall asleep.

Abruptly, the girl fell still. Aside from the horrible, ragged, wet sound of her breathing, she almost seemed peaceful. I almost dared to hope she'd be okay.

Then she started to change.

It was violent. 'Sickening' might've been a better word, though it was impossible to really do it justice. I backed away as far as the room would allow and watched in stunned silence as her body tore itself apart.

Her head snapped back first, her mouth stretched wide in a silent scream. There were awful cracks and pops as her bones changed shape and moved beneath her greying skin, reducing her to little more than a writhing mass of flesh. Her nails extended into viciously sharp claws that scored red marks into her skin as she thrashed in agony. Her spine lengthened, a fleshy tendril that cracked against the cage bars. Her face looked like it was melting into a horrific, unrecognizable mass.

Bile rose in my throat. Something sharp pressed into my spine, and I realized I'd backed all the way up into a low shelf. Mysterious, scary-looking sharp things clattered off it to the ground as I struggled to steady myself.

Grey fur sprouted from her face, traveling fast, until her whole body was covered. Her ears sharpened and moved upwards on her skull. Bright blue stripes appeared below her eyes, like a waterfall of tears.

Oh. Oh, please, no.

I rushed back over to the cage in a tangle of paws, nearly tripping over my own tail. "River," I croaked. "Please. Please wake up."

The awful process had stopped, leaving my friend forever changed yet so much more familiar. She was deathly still at the bottom of the cage, lying motionless in a puddle of her own blood, drool, and vomit.

She was going to be fine. Of course she was going to be fine. This has already happened—and a long time ago, from how much smaller she was. But the sight of her, so broken and sick-looking, set my legs shaking all over again.

I knew this had happened to her. I knew River hadn't always looked the way she did—that she had been born human. But I'd never witnessed this part with my own eyes. It was more nightmarish than anything I ever could have imagined.

The gentle sound of her heartbeat—now even and normal—calmed me down.

This was familiar, now. I knew what was going to happen next. I'd seen it dozens of times.

She was stirring. Her newly violet eyes opened slowly, dull with pain and damp with fear. Uncontrollable tremors ran through her.

She tried to get up, only for her weak legs to give in under her. I whined reassuringly.

The door opened again, far more slowly and cautiously this time. Like they were scared of her. As if she could ever hurt them in this near-death state they'd put her in.

River whimpered as light flooded the room, but she didn't move. Her eyes flickered between the man and the woman, brimming with helpless fear.

It was the same two researchers as before, though any trace of warmth was long gone. The woman was looking at her with barely concealed disgust, while the man had the same air of indifference about him.

I snarled at them when they got near. The woman stopped way too close to me. Her clipboard jutted into my chest. I backed away with a scowl.

The man pulled out a small recording device that looked to be from the 90s and started speaking into it while the woman scribbled down something.

"Experiment Number 452 has survived the transformation process. The subject is a ten-year-old female who expressed minimal resistance to the procedure. Serum Designation Thirty-Four was used, containing red fox D.N.A. The subject appears to display an unusual colour morph for the species." He paused, and the recording device beeped.

River was more alert by then. The fur on her tail bristled as she sat up, her long ears brushing the top of the wire cage. She whined pathetically, looking at the woman with mournful hope in her eyes.

The woman met her gaze for half a second, her face flashing with a brutal coldness. "You better have the muzzle ready, Craig. I don't want that thing biting me." The woman hit the clipboard against the cage bars, laughing as River flinched.

I glowered at her from the corner. The same unrestrained dislike sparked under my fur.

What would I do if I could actually touch them? I wondered.

If you hurt them, my brain argued, then you're a monster, too.

So, you want me to sit back and do nothing?

That would be cowardly. Allowing harm to come to someone is almost as bad as doing it yourself. What's wrong with you?

The man clicked the recorder on again. "Experiment Number 452 is hereby considered a success. It will be assimilated into the herd and further testing will commence."

River shook her head desperately as he reached for the lock.

This was exactly where Wild began. A scene I'd watched thoughtlessly a seemingly infinite number of times, now soured with the dread of knowing it was real.

I wanted to look away this time. I didn't allow myself that.

When the blackness returned a few moments later, I was shell-shocked and shaky. They never talked about these things. I knew River knew that I was aware of all this, but we had a sort of silent agreement to never bring it up. I'd only ever mentioned her lab days once—back when she first started speaking to me, just over a year ago.

I couldn't remember what I said, exactly. Some question about her missing an old friend from back then. She didn't get upset with me or anything, but she seemed sad and reserved for the rest of the day.

Nora, though? I didn't have the faintest clue. There was this brand-new yawning gap of time between her leaving home and her finding the dragon realm. She never seemed even the slightest bit reserved when it came to talking about being a dragonrider, but this was an untouched story. A darker, more hidden branch of her life that she'd never shown me.

I frowned. Why was I still here, anyway? It wasn't like I had any other friends. No more people to see invasive, creepy, privacy-violating visions of. It should be over.

Unless I was dead.

Great. Thank you, brain. That's a super helpful thought.

Trying to ignore the faint ache in my ribs, I sniffed the air. Nothing. My nose hadn't been so totally and completely empty since—

I got something. A faint trace of… stale bread, body odor, and paper?

The world melted in, leaving me standing in a crowded school hallway. Specifically, my crowded school hallway.

Faces rushed past me, some familiar, some strange, all racing to different places as fast as their squeaky shoes would allow. Boys shouted insults at their friends from across the way. Packs of girls on their phones, not looking where they were going. At least two sets of people were wrestling in the middle of the hall, forcing everyone to step around them.

Nothing was out of the ordinary. It was a regular—albeit it stank more than I remembered—high school day.

My instinctive dread kicked in. Every face was predatory.

Move fast, don't stop, don't take your headphones off. Pretend they're not talking you. Boys are the biggest threat. Girls are still judgmental, but they've never openly bothered you before.

If they could see what I looked like now—not a trace of humanity left in me, and proud of it—well, I didn't want to think about it.

I hated what school turned me into: a paranoid, frightened creature who saw the worst in everyone. That wasn't me. I was supposed to be kind, loving, and understanding. But the truth was I'd been teased so relentlessly that my awful, evil brain immediately jumped to fear. I did my best not to show it. I didn't want to seem cynical.

I should've tried harder to be happy. Every time I shied away from someone who spoke to me, I left a dark stain on the world. A stain of cruelty and wasted potential. If I didn't appear happy, peaceful, and friendly at all times, no matter the circumstances, I would be a bad person.

Those were the rules. There was no space left for me to fail—I'd used it all up.

Calm down, idiot. Nobody here can see you.

I shook out my fur. The hallway was so dense that someone would walk through me every few seconds. I retreated to a small alcove and decided to watch for a minute. The rainbow banners told me it was some time in June—near the end of the school year. So definitely not this year, unless I was seeing the future.

"Would you drop it already? It's not a big deal."

"We'll drop it when I say we're done. You screwed up. Bad."

The voices came from the other side of the hallway. The tone of their voices—hurt, anger, even a little fear—caught my ears.

I scanned the wall of blue lockers. So many people, so many conversations. It was tough to pinpoint the exact source. I followed the argument as best I could, pausing every few paces to listen again.

My ears led me through a pack of kids to a girl with her back to me. She was blocking my view of whoever she was sniping with, but she smelled hateful and aggressive.

"What's wrong with you, anyway?" her friend asked. "Why are you so different lately? You were never like this last year."

The girl turned around, and I saw her face.

Cold trickled down my spine like a bucket of ice thrown over my head.

Not this. Anything but this.

I pleaded silently for this horrible series of visions to end, to do anything but show me this.

Not this.

I couldn't handle this.

Of all the people in the world I could be standing face-to-face with, I couldn't think of anyone scarier than myself.

Chapter Eighteen

I gasped for air and shrank back. The whole world seemed to shrink from the huge, crowded school to one pinpoint of too-bright light with only me inside it. Not enough space, not enough air.

"Why do you care?" Vision Starheart asked bluntly.

Cammy—of course it was her, it was always her—frowned. "You're my friend. Why wouldn't I care?"

I wouldn't—couldn't—do this. Not again. I'd replayed it a hundred thousand times in my head, and it never got easier. The hurt, the fear, the regret—all of it built in my head endlessly, day and night, waiting for an explosion that never, ever came.

I ran.

I ran as fast and as far as my legs could carry me, dodging and weaving through ghostly people, barely feeling it when I hit them. My paws skidded on the slick floor, and I crashed into a wall.

The front door was right around that bend, I could make it, I could leave…

I skidded back into the hall of lockers.

What?

Disgruntled and appalled, I realized that the vision—the nightmare—whatever this was—had twisted my school to bring me right back to where I was.

Refusing to give up, I tried again.

This time, I slammed face first into an invisible wall, just like the one that stopped Seafern from flying to the cave. Whatever magic was controlling this place had boxed me in. I slashed at it furiously and nearly knocked all my claws out.

Their voices—our voices—were getting louder and angrier by the minute. The room dimmed. Maybe it was all in my head.

Exhausted, I finally paused to look up.

Everyone around us had frozen in place, like some great being had hit the pause button on everyone but us. I even saw a fly hovering in midair.

Then, flickering like a long-forgotten memory, they disappeared. I was alone with nobody but Cammy and the one person who'd been making my life hell all these years.

"Why'd you have to go and make friends with her, anyway?" Vision Starheart snapped. "You know I hate her."

"I didn't think it mattered that much," Cammy said. Her eyes were brimming with hurt. "You don't have to talk to her. And she's really not all that bad."

Vision Me narrowed her sharp blue eyes. "That's stupid. And you know this is about more than that. It's about loyalty, and you're acting like a traitor."

"You don't own me, Isa. You know that, right?"

My chest was burning. Everything I kept carefully locked away was spiralling out of control, breaking out of their chains and growing into a storm in my skull. The beast was in control of everything. I couldn't stop it if I tried.

It was too late.

Once—when I was thirteen or so—I crashed my bike into the street. A busy one, too. I'd been biking home after school and swerved at the last second to avoid hitting an injured bird lying on the sidewalk. The world almost froze for a second, giving me time to see the cars rushing towards me and the rough pavement flying at my face and to think oh. I might not actually be okay after this.

This was different. This wasn't going to stop half a meter from my face, like that car did. There was nobody here to save me. The crash was inevitable, and I wasn't sure I knew how to survive it when it came.

Vision Starheart slammed a fist against her locker door. Cammy flinched. "You don't get to tell me what to do. You don't have anyone else. Tick me off, and you'll be alone forever."

"I—I'm sorry, okay? I'll do better. I promise." Cammy's voice hitched. I smelled salty tears pooling in her eyes, and my stomach twisted with nausea.

She rifled through her pockets and pulled out a folded piece of paper, shoving it at Vision Starheart. "I made you something. As an apology. I really am sorry, Isabella."

I remembered that drawing, as clear as day. I had it taped to my wall right next to the light switch. I looked at it every night, so I wouldn't forget it.

It made me cry, sometimes. I'd never really told anyone about that. Though I was beginning to wonder how many of those 'secret' moments Nora and River had witnessed through the mirror and were too polite to mention. I broke down a lot when I thought nobody was around. Maybe that was why they were always so worried about me.

I watched helplessly as Vision Me opened up the page. Cammy had sketched the two of us. We were smiling—I wasn't sure I ever looked that happy back then, but maybe it was wishful thinking—and holding hands. We were surrounded by butterflies and hearts and Best friends! (I'm sorry) was written above our heads.

Maybe it wasn't the most technically skilled drawing in the world, but it was undeniably a sweet gesture. It would've meant the world to me, had someone given it to me today.

But that monster was nothing like who I was today.

Vision Starheart tore it in half and threw it at her. "I don't want your awful drawings," she spat. "What are you, a toddler? Grow up, Cammy. You're a horrible artist, a horrible friend, and a pathetic person. A total waste of time. I hope I never see you again."

Something broke behind Cammy's eyes.

A new pain stabbed me in the chest, so sharp and so sudden that it took my breath away.

That's not just guilt anymore, I thought in alarm.

Something was terribly wrong with me.

My lungs were burning. My head was spinning. The vision around me froze and then cracked, like someone swung a massive, invisible hammer hard enough to shatter reality itself. My breath came in shuddering gasps, but no amount of air stopped the suffocating feeling.

The air around me flickered. Once, twice, three times.

And then it was gone.

Freezing water pressed in on me from all sides. My limbs were growing numb and my lungs were screaming for air. I thrashed desperately, but the light was blinding and my eyes couldn't see which way was up. My body rebelled against my will, forcing me to take a breath. Sharp, bitter water rushed down my throat, filling my lungs, choking me—

Someone grabbed me and yanked me to the surface. A hand hit me sharply on the back and I coughed up a small waterfall.

Dazed, I tried to get up. My shaking legs betrayed me and sent me back down with a splash. The waves stung my eyes.

Gently, Nora grabbed hold of me again. She hugged me close and lifted my head above the water. Her brown eyes were wide with worry. Her scent surrounded me like a blanket, warm and safe and tinged with concern. A sparkling feeling fluttered to life in my chest, like a hundred fireworks going off at once.

Oh, I thought dumbly. That's new.

"Starheart?"

"Wuh?"

"I asked if you were okay."

I wriggled away a little too quickly, relieved to find that my legs decided to cooperate. "Fine! Totally fine!"

I shook my head frantically to clear it. That awful water clearly messed with my brain more than I thought.

The cave was exactly how we'd left it. The witch was standing right where she was when I fell, her face still contorted with fury.

Has it really only been a few seconds? I could've sworn it was hours. Exhaustion clouded my thoughts and my fur was plastered to my body like a half-drowned rat.

River didn't look much better than me: she was soaked to the skin, like I was; her chest was heaving as though she'd been running from something; and she was glaring daggers at the old witch. She looked angry, which was a pretty unfamiliar colour on her. Her tail dragged against the stone as she pulled herself from the pool.

"What was that?" she growled. "What's wrong with you? What did you do?"

"Your friend knocked you all into my pool. I am not responsible for the things you had to see due to your stupid, thoughtless brute's incompetence."

"You threw a jar at her! She didn't do anything wrong!" I thought I heard River's voice falter slightly. Like she wasn't so sure of it anymore.

The witch's face contorted with rage. "Fools!" she screamed. She limped closer on ancient, shaking knees. "Both of you! Idiots! You'll kill us all!"

"We just wanted to ask a question!" Nora protested. "I don't—"

The witch let out another strangled scream and pointed a long, bony finger at me. "You dare bring that vessel of darkness into my home?"

"What?"

She grabbed one of my ears and yanked me out of the pool. I squeaked in shock. Her nails were almost as sharp as my claws. For a frail looking old woman, she was terrifyingly strong. She shoved me roughly away from her and I stumbled into River again, though this time she was prepared enough to catch me.

"Blasted, vile creature!" the witch shrieked at me. "Your disgusting presence fouls this sacred space! Idiotic, moth-brained, heartless—"

"Stop that!" Nora snapped, stepping between us. "Back off, you old rat. You can't talk to her like that."

How could she still be so quick to protect me, after all that? My hope fluttered to life. Maybe she hadn't seen it. She must not have, or she wouldn't ever stick up for me again. I wouldn't blame her, either.

The witch glowered at her. "You don't understand what you're doing, child. That creature is the bringer of death. A magnet for destruction. She carries the shadows in her bones. I can smell it on her like a sickness."

"What's that supposed to mean?" I asked desperately.

"The darkness feeds off you. They seek the pained, the ruined, the broken. The monsters. The cruel hearted.

You spread that vile darkness wherever you go. It's going to get worse. As long as you live—as long as you feel pain—that darkness will spread. It will ruin everything good in this world.

You Dare Bring it here? you Dare Corrupt my Home with your Sickening Evil? Leave this Place! don't Ever Come back!

Her screams were drowned out by the shrieking caws of the raven. It took off from her shoulders in a whirlwind of feathers and dove at me. Pain stabbed my head as its claws raked my fur. I yelped and clawed at it blindly, but my paws met only air. It dove again, this time leaving a long scratch dangerously close to my eye.

The witch snatched a rock off the ground and hurled it at me. It met my shoulder with a sickening crack.

"I'll kill you!" she shrieked. "I'll destroy you if I have to! Leave!"

I spat feathers out of my mouth. "But we still haven't—"

Nora grabbed my arm and yanked me towards the entrance. River was already disappearing around the corner. I resisted, tugging my paw away.

"Starheart, come on!" she begged. "We can't stay here!"

"We have to!" The wobble in my voice surprised me. "It can't all be for nothing. This can't be it. How can we leave with nothing when people are in danger?"

Her face grew rueful as she reached out to smooth the ruffled fur on my cheek. "We're not finding anything here, buddy. I'm sorry. It's going to be okay."

I whimpered.

Something exploded behind us. Heat scorched my back. She really was going to kill us if we stayed. Some little part of me knew that if I left this cave without any way of fixing the world, of stopping the Shadow, then nothing would be alright again. I wouldn't be alright again.

Was it selfish to be scared for myself when the world was falling to pieces? I didn't know. All I knew was that I was so, so tired. Tired of being afraid. Tired of being a monster. Tired of being the one who broke everything she touched.

I let Nora pull me out of the cave and into the night beyond.

Chapter Nineteen

Was—was that… real?"

The three of us were standing back in the clearing. The whole trip down the mountain was a blur. It felt like an eternity, yet also no time at all. We ran as far and as fast as we could, only slowing down when our lungs were burning and our legs were giving out. River's hesitant question was the first words any of us had spoken to each other since the cave.

Seafern was watching us with a faintly concerned look, clearly sensing something had gone down. They were mostly looking at me, which was fair. I was bruised and reeked of bitter water and fear.

My throat was tight. So was my chest. The unrelenting waves of dread I'd battled for so many years were crashing over me, so massive and so frequent that I couldn't find space to breathe.

Maybe they hadn't seen it. Maybe we all saw different things. Maybe—

"I mean—I don't—" Nora faltered. "It couldn't all be real. M-maybe my bit was, but Starheart would never—"

I backed away from them.

"Starheart?" River reached for me.

I pulled away. Looked away, too, because I couldn't bear to see her expression fall into hurt.

"Maybe there's some things I never told you about," I said quietly.

I could've told them it was fake. They would've believed it. They had so much faith in their perfect, golden Starheart that they never would've doubted it. But I couldn't lie to them about this. I couldn't look them in the eye and tell them that I was normal, or safe, or alright. I couldn't fool them into believing I deserved them for even a second longer than I already had. They were so wonderful. So kind to me and everyone else, so selfless in the name of good. They were everything that I wasn't. It was pure luck on my part that they never questioned who I was.

They deserved better than another lie.

I took a deep breath. "What you saw wasn't fake. That was me."

River's ears drooped. "Oh, Starheart. Why?"

There's something warped inside me. I was born evil. I wanted to. I liked it.

"I don't know." It was barely a whisper.

Nora held her hands out and took a cautious step closer. Like I was a raccoon caught in a snare and she wasn't sure if I'd bite. "It's okay."

"It's not okay!" I snapped, far harsher than I wanted to. Both of them jumped in surprise. "None of this is alright! How could you look at that—look at me—and think it's alright?"

"We can talk about this, okay? We can work it all out. We just, we just want to make sense of this. Maybe we could—"

"Stop it. Stop. Please," I choked. "You shouldn't be around me. You need to let me go."

"Starheart—"

I took off into the woods.

An awful, dark pressure was building in my head. The familiar darkness that always lurked in the back of my mind was expanding into a whirlwind that swallowed everything in its path, swelling and growing to an explosive degree. Branches tore at my snout. I didn't care, couldn't care, it just didn't matter. I needed to get away. I didn't care where.

The raging torrent of noise in my head grew louder. Louder. Louder. Louder still until it was a relentless scream of hurt pounding on my skull, scraping against my mind, begging to be let out.

I collapsed into the dirt. My knees collided hard with a rock.

It should have hurt.

It didn't.

My breath was coming in loud, harsh, ragged gasps. My paws were clamped over my ears like I was trying to drown out the sound of my own head. The monster and I had traded places—it was alive, in control, in the middle of it all. I was clinging to the scraps fighting to stay alive.

I don't deserve to forget.

Not when she remembers. Not when all of them remember.

I don't deserve to be breathing.

Not when my very existence means others suffer.

I deserve to suffer.

It was right. It was justified. I was less than pointless. Pointless would mean I did nothing. I wished I was pointless. Pointless was better than harmful. Pointless was better than monstrous.

I smelled blood. In my awful, delirious fog, I didn't register it was coming from me. Not until the sharp, breathtaking pain in my arm began did I realize that I was digging my claws into my skin. Scratching deep.

This is nothing. This is nothing compared to what you've put everyone around you through.

I was shivering. With pain, with fear, with cold, with everything. I couldn't stop myself.

Starheart.

Starheart, stop.

"Starheart! Please!" A voice penetrated the fog. Nora grabbed my bloodied paws, pulling them away and holding them in an iron grip.

I thrashed and twisted, trying to pull free.

"Starheart. It's okay. I'm here."

Her voice was so, so soft.

The fight drained out of me. My chest heaved with sobs.

How long had I been crying?

My body crumpled as she held me close. I couldn't speak. Couldn't tell her how sorry I was for putting her through this.

I wish I was someone better.

All I could do was bury my face in my friend's shoulder and wait for it all to stop.

***

Thunder rumbled distantly on the horizon as she finally let me go. I was grateful for the darkness that kept her from seeing me fully. It was too late to avoid her knowing what an absolute mess I was, but at least I didn't have to look her in the eye.

Nora's hands still had a tight grip on my wrists. Like I couldn't be trusted with my own body.

Maybe I couldn't. The truth was, I'd done this before. Lots of times. Usually when I was upset with myself about something, or when my memories got stuck in my head in a particularly bad way. I'd get this awful, overwhelming need to punish myself.

But my human nails were pretty weak. They barely left a mark. Stupidly, I'd forgotten how damaging my claws could be.

Hadn't I?

She let out a slow breath. "If I let go, are you gonna do that again?"

I shook my head, not trusting myself to speak.

Gently, she set my paws down. I thought she seemed pretty calm, all things considered. Her heart wasn't beating much faster than usual.

Maybe she was used to this, after all the war wounds she'd seen. Or maybe me snapping and losing any ounce of cool I once had was more predictable than I realized.

Embarrassment burned my fur. Nobody was supposed to see me like that, let alone her. How could she still like me when I was a bully and overdramatic child?

How could either of them want to be friends with me when I was quite possibly the most unbearable person ever born?

Nora pulled a bundle out of her pocket. "Hold still, alright?"

She started wrapping something white around my arm. Some sort of cloth bandage. It reminded me of when I'd first arrived in this world and she had to fix my screwed-up paw.

"I figured this would work better," she explained, "since those sticky ones don't like your fur."

I didn't say anything. I watched the white fabric turn pinkish-red. Why is she being so nice to me?

"I like having this stuff around," she continued, "since you're always, uh, determined to get yourself into a life-changing accident."

My eyes started to sting again. "I'm sorry."

"What? No, it's… it's fine, Starheart, I didn't mean—"

I cut her off. "It wasn't an accident."

"I know."

"Then how are you so okay with this?"

Her casual facade dropped in an instant. Her eyes were so heavy and sad that I knew I must've touched some sort of nerve. She sighed and looked away from me for a second before tugging up her hoodie sleeve to her elbow.

Her brown skin was marred with several small scars. Never quite as brutal or noticeable as the scar on her leg, but still visible enough if you looked closely.

I gave her a worried look. "I thought you got those during battles."

"I did. Most of them." She ran a finger over a small, bumpy scar close to the edge of her glove. "Not that one, though. That one is… yeah. You know."

"Oh. I'm sorry."

"It's okay. It was only once. And a really long time ago. I'm fine." Her eyes sharpened and she pulled her sleeve down again. "Look, all I'm trying to say is… it's not just you, y'know?"

"Thanks." I fiddled with the edge of my bandage.

She pulled my paw away. "I need you to promise me something, though."

I blinked at her. "Anything." I couldn't think of a single thing I wouldn't do for her. I'd crack open my ribs and give her my sill-beating heart if she asked.

"Next time you feel like doing that, please tell me. No matter what time. No matter what I'm doing. I won't mind. I can help. At the very least, you don't have to be alone in this. Promise?"

Her wide brown eyes were serious. I had the overwhelming urge to shatter as completely and totally as my heart wanted to. I was already broken, and keeping the cracked pieces together with my bare paws took so much out of me I could barely pretend it was all alright. I wanted to tell her that the person she was trying to see inside of was hollow, and that I was sorry I wasn't hiding anything beautiful.

I was guarding a black abyss of a heart that would probably never amount to anything good. It was so raw and ugly. Did she understand that? Could she understand that, as spirited and bright and full of love as she was?

Most days I was pretending to be a living person. She was the opposite of everything I was. She was sweet, genuine, so unbelievably kind. Maybe she would hold my broken parts gently, if I showed them to her.

"I promise."

She flashed me a sad smile. "There she is. Are you ready?"

"Ready for what?"

"To go back. River's probably a little worried."

I tensed. "I can't."

"Why not?"

I don't know, maybe because you both know that I'm a bully and a liar and you probably won't ever think of me the same way again? Or maybe because the last time River saw me, she looked at me like a murderer covered in blood? Possibly because I don't know if I could go on living without you two, and if I stay here forever, I won't have to face the possibility of losing you to my own selfish idiocy?

I think my eyes said it all.

"We can't brush all this off, Starheart," she said kindly. "But nobody's upset. We all just want to understand. That's what friends do—we listen.

We hear each other out. And we don't abandon each other that easily."

Part of me wanted to start shouting again. A twisted little worm of emotion that wanted her to hate me as much as I hated myself. But that would be evil, wouldn't it? She seemed so hopeful for me. I didn't want to let her down.

I'll do it for her. But not me. Never for me.

I nodded. "I'm ready."

***

Nobody said a word.

River hadn't spoken at all since we'd gone back. Neither had Nora. I hadn't thought she was capable of staying quiet that long.

River had helpfully built a fire while we were gone. I wasn't sure how long it would last with the rainclouds creeping ever closer. Seafern looked to be asleep, though I could tell they were awake from the way their tail kept twitching closer to Nora.

My friends had the same silent, disappointed energy my parents did when they realized my sister had been sneaking out. The heavy, scary kind that you knew was thick with the clouds of an impending conversation. They seemed so… grey. I must've really upset them.

They just saw their own worst memories too, I realized. Not everything is about you, dummy. Get a grip. Me drowning in self-pity wasn't helping anyone. It most definitely wasn't the way to make them feel better, either.

"Are you guys okay?" I ventured.

Nora rubbed her eye. "Yeah. Sorry. I really don't like reliving that stuff, I guess."

River whined sympathetically. "I'm sorry. I had no idea."

The flames danced in Nora's eyes, burning alongside the anger on her face. "Yeah, well, it ain't your fault, man. It was just… I don't know.

I guess I always knew it was gonna happen. Someday he'd find out, and then everything would go to hell and he'd never speak to me again. I was just hoping that would happen after I moved out, you know? Not while I was still only a kid." She sighed.

"You knew he'd react like that?" I asked. "I haven't come out to my parents, but I don't have a clue what they'd say." I wasn't planning on telling them any time soon, either. Too risky. They weren't particularly hateful, but they weren't exactly the world's most open-minded people either.

She winced. "My dad wasn't such a great guy. Ever since I was little, I knew I had to be careful with how I acted around him. He was always watching me for any sign that I was turning out 'wrong'.

His words, not mine. And by 'wrong' he meant girly or gay or whatever he thought was currently ruining America's men. Also his words."

"He sounds… intense," I said.

"He was. And not in a good way, like I am." The joke was half-hearted. Her smile didn't reach her eyes. "He always made it pretty clear that we had to be the kind of people he wanted us to be, or we'd be complete and total disappointments."

"'We'?" River echoed.

"Me and my brother. Josh couldn't fail if he tried. Me, though? Hopeless. Too feminine, too sensitive, miserable at sports. I made a pretty pathetic son on all fronts." She lowered her gaze to the base of the fire, where the embers flickered and hissed with the first few drops of rain. "I don't think Dad ever actually loved me. He loved this image he had of a perfect, infallible, tough son who met all his standards. But that wasn't me. It was never me. And the minute he found out, well…" Her voice hitched as she trailed off.

I scooted closer. Close enough to reach out and touch her, though I kept my paws to myself. My tail thumped against the dirt reassuringly. She flashed me a single grateful look before her eyes went sad and unfocused again.

"You know, it's funny. There was always this little part of me that thought—well, I guess hoped is a better word—that he'd change his mind when I told him. I mean, I know he was a huge bigot and all that… but I was still his kid, y'know?

That should've meant something. Stupid. I was so stupid."

"You're not stupid," River said softly. She'd moved closer, too. "It's not stupid to want your parent's kindness. It's not stupid to want to be loved."

I nodded. "It's not your fault he was bad inside. I'm sorry he took it out on you."

I wondered if something like that could ever be forgivable. If not, where was the line? How did someone know they crossed it? How could they cope with never going back?

How could I cope with never going back?

I wasn't like him. Of course I wasn't. If I was older, and I had a son who came to me one day and told me she was really a girl? Well, of course I'd be kind about it. I'd protect her and love her and give anyone who was mean about it a stern talking to. But would the old me have reacted the same way? Would I have grown up to be the sort of small-hearted person who would reject her, had I not changed?

And how many of those 'maybes' was I responsible for? How was I supposed to cope with that fact that, realistically, that could have been me, if things had gone a little different?

"Thanks, guys." Nora poked at the embers wearily. River squeaked in fear as a shower of sparks came pouring off it. "It's nice to have people to talk to about this stuff. Back then, I only had my brother. I think he was the only person who actually cared when I disappeared."

I hesitated. "Do you guys ever regret being here? In Fable's Reach, I mean. I know you didn't really have a choice, but… does it ever bother you? That you had to leave everyone else behind?"

I'd wondered before if I'd made their lives worse by dragging them away from everything they knew. I loved them dearly, and I wanted to be close to them, but I never wanted to cost them their happiness.

"It's easy to miss people," said River slowly. "And I'm sure we all do. But some people are only meant to stay in our lives for a short time, and there's nothing we can really do about that." Her words were sad but peaceful. I reached out and took her paw in my own.

We'd moved to huddle by Seafern's side at that point. The rain had picked up into a steady shower and the massive dragon's huge, leathery wing was the only suitable shelter in sight. River snuggled up next to me, her fur fluffed up and her small frame shivering. She used my tail like a blanket. I didn't mind.

She made my heart feel funny and fluttery. It was silly. Weird.

Nora nodded sagely. "I think about 'em sometimes, but it is what it is, you know? Besides, I've got you dorks now. Believe it or not, I think you're worth it."

River's wet black nose twitched as she sniffed a leaf stuck in my fur. "Starheart, you know as well as I do that my old life was frightening and miserable. I'm better off here than I ever was before."

Nora peered down at her. I could see the wheels turning behind her eyes. Worried, but curious. "Riv, I didn't know you were human once."

She barked a sad little laugh. "I suppose there's some things I don't like reliving, either. The truth is, Nora, I don't really know what I am. Some freakish amalgamation of D.N.A, most likely.

I've got the same brain. I don't look human anymore, but I still feel human." She got really quiet.

"Well. Maybe not entirely. I've got fox feelings, too. Instincts. I don't like them, but they're there.

I feel like neither. Perhaps both. But that simply isn't possible, is it?"

"I don't know about that," I said. She looked at me curiously.

I cringed internally, hoping I hadn't overstepped. Too late to back out now. "Sometimes boxes don't work.

You're not the right shape. I might know I'm all fox under my human skin, but I've heard of loads of alterhumans who see themselves as human and animal at the same time. It's possible. Maybe you are both.

Or neither. Or something else. The point is, you don't have to make sense. Sometimes it's fun to just be confusing and unique."

She tugged at her ear tag thoughtfully. "I never quite considered it like that. I like it. Thank you, friend."

They both looked at me, and in an instant I knew what was coming.

We can't brush all this off.

Why did I ever think I could get away with this? Bullies always got what was coming for them. That was how stories worked.

As much as I dreamed about being the hero, there was no chance I was anything but a villain in other people's stories. Someone who was meant to be defeated and vanquished. Not someone who got to be happy.

"Starheart…" Nora began. She was uncharacteristically lost for words.

I couldn't look her in the eye. How could either of them stand to be around me, when I could barely stand to exist as myself? This wasn't how I imagined any of this going. In my hundreds of daydreams—well, they were more like waking nightmares—about this happening, they hated me. It went down a million different ways, but it always ended with me getting what I deserved. Sometimes I thought about Nora driving a sword through my heart, and I wondered how much better off the world would be if I disappeared. On my darker days, I even wondered how much better off I would be.

She flipped my paw over and absentmindedly ran a finger down the sharp edge of my claw. I tried not to twitch or pull away. I couldn't bear to hurt her any more than I already had.

"Why?" she finally asked.

My shoulders sagged, and I sighed a heavy sigh. "I really wish I knew. I wish I had a reason. I wish I had some great and terrible thing in my past to explain it all, to explain away how horrible I was, but I don't. My life was easy. My parents were kind, and they didn't fight often.

It was just me. I had something awful and dark inside my head that ate away at me, and I hated the way it made me feel weak. So, I took it out on everyone else. I don't have any excuse."

My voice wavered. "It—it wasn't just Cammy. It was everyone. My parents, my sister, my teachers. I made the lives of every single person who met me worse."

Everywhere I went, everything I did, brought up old memories. Maybe I could've coped better if it was once or twice, but when your head is full of hundreds of unbearable reminders, you end up drowning in it all. So, you put up walls around it. Dams to hold back the flood. And you hope against all hope that they hold, because if they don't…

Mine had cracked wide open, and it terrified me.

It felt evil of me to be in this much pain. I was the aggressor. I was the bully.

I didn't have a right to it. I didn't get to feel wounded by what had happened. I was the one who made those choices, so of course I had to live with them.

"What changed?" asked River. "I mean, you're nice now, right? So, what made it better?" Her face was hard to read.

The fire had been reduced to a smoldering pile of steam. The heat was long gone, and the raindrops turned the grey ash black. The damp forest air was sweet in my lungs.

I took a deep breath of that wonderfully sweet air, willing myself to say what I needed to. Hoping the words would find their place, and that they wouldn't sound hollow and pointless outside of my head.

"You did."

Chapter Twenty

When I first saw you two on the screen… man. I felt it immediately. 'There's something special about her. She's going to change something in me.' I fought it at first—back then, I still had it in my head that cartoons were for little kids. I couldn't even imagine the worlds I was missing out on. But the more I watched, the more attached I became. Both of you struck a brand-new chord in me that I'd never felt before.

"I didn't know what to do about it at first. I wasn't even sure what it was. All I knew was that you were the kindest, brightest, most true hearted people I'd ever seen, and I couldn't go a single minute without thinking about it. You made me feel understood—you were the first people who were really there, even when I was rough and mean and hard to be around. You were the only safe haven I had on my bad days. You weren't talking to me back then, of course. That would come later. But I still felt like there was something more to it than just a one-sided interest.

"Slowly, painfully, I started to realize how different we really were. Both of you were selfless and heroic. You'd risk anything to help others, even yourself.

Everything you did was to fight for a better world, even for one person. Me, though? I was the picture of selfishness. Everything I did served myself. I'd snap at people just to watch the happiness drain from their eyes.

I thought it made me feel better. I didn't realize it was pushing me further into my little hole of misery.

"And one day, I had enough of it. I was tired of being the bully, the monster, the jerk who ruined everyone's day. I didn't want to be the villain anymore. I wanted to be someone who made the world better just for existing.

Like… well, like you do. It was so scary. I'd already done so much. Hurt so many. I wasn't sure if it was even possible. But you were there. You were always there.

And you didn't just make me want to be better; you made me feel like I could be better. Like I was worth so much more than I'd been wasting myself on.

"So, I did. I try to, at least. I must be doing alright, since everyone around me thinks I'm perfectly sweet. But they don't know. They don't know how bad I used to be. They don't know that it haunts me day and night. They don't know that I spend every waking moment of my life trying to be the most selfless, caring, loving person they'd ever met to make up for it all. I know I never will, but I try. I'll keep trying, even if it kills me. What else can I do?"

The air hung thick and heavy around us in the wake of my words. My heart stalled. Was that too much? Had I crossed a line?

River looked up at me, her pretty eyes aglow. "Breaking yourself into pieces won't make you whole again."

"What?" It caught me off guard.

"If you live to please other people, you won't have anything left," she clarified. "It won't leave you feeling more complete. You matter too, you know."

I shook my head wildly. "This is the least I can do, River. Maybe I deserved peace and kindness before, but I used it all up. There's no space left for me to matter. I lost the right to that a long time ago."

"She's right, you know," Nora remarked, peeling the bark off her fire poking stick. "That's not really how it works. It's not some debt to pay off."

"Of course it is," I argued. "How else would it work?"

"Look—okay, maybe that was a bad example. I'm trying to say, maybe it's not something that stains you for life. Maybe it's enough to be better now.

If everyone's mistakes stuck with them forever, we'd all be considered awful, irredeemable people. I punched my brother in the crotch when I was six, but he doesn't—didn't hold that against me. Not for longer than an hour, at least."

"This is different," I insisted.

Her eyes searched mine. "What do you always say? About the people who are mean to you?"

Bemused, I wrinkled my snout. "That they're nasty? And I wish they'd leave me alone?"

"Not that. The other thing."

My shoulders slumped. "That I hope they can change some day, so they don't have to feel mean all the time?"

"You're always so adamant about forgiving them," River piped up. "Why should you be the exception? What makes you worth so much less than them?"

"And don't say 'I'm awful. 'Cause you're not." Nora chucked her stick into the darkness. It landed with a distant snap.

"I don't know, alright?" I said. "I just—am."

"Have you ever actually talked to her about this?" Nora pressed. "Your friend, I mean. Did you ever say you were sorry?"

She didn't sound judgmental. Her tone was very kind, actually. It still made my heart drop. "She wouldn't want to talk to me. There's no chance she'd ever forgive me."

"That's not the point," she said. "She doesn't have to. It's not on her to make you feel better. But don't you think apologizing would help both of you?"

I didn't know how to explain to her that part of me didn't want to feel better. That I was so used to these waves of self-loathing that they'd become almost comforting. Familiar, at least. I had no idea who I was beyond it. The darkness was home.

The thought tugged loose another spike of fear. A cold trickle of dread ran down my spine as I remembered. "The witch. You—you heard what she said. The Shadow is here for me. It's just like it told me."

"We don't know that she was telling the truth," Nora soothed.

Frustrated, I dug my claws into the dirt. "The visions were correct. She clearly knows things. I know you don't believe she was lying. You can't possibly think that."

Nora was a smart person. Reckless, maybe, and bad at thinking things through, but she took warnings like that seriously. She was clearly trying to make me feel better.

Her face changed as she looked at me. Falling from false hope into something tired and a little scared. It frightened me. "Maybe she was right, Starheart. Say she was telling the truth. That doesn't change anything. We are absolutely not feeding you to it."

River tugged on my ear. I turned to look at her.

"Even if it is chasing you, even if it is here all because of you, that's not your fault," she said. "You're as much a victim of it as anyone else."

It bugged me that they were being so nice to me. It bothered me in a way that was near impossible to put into words, yet cut deep all the same. It didn't feel right. I'd spent so long hating myself for all of this. How could they brush it off? Why wouldn't they treat me like I deserved? They were making it all seem like nothing.

I shouldn't—couldn't—get off that easily. Bullies needed to be punished. I needed to be punished. At the very least they should be keeping their distance. What if I hurt them again?

What if cruelty was such a deeply ingrained part of my nature that it was only a matter of time before I turned on them, too?

River was always so sweet and hopeful. If I ever made her cry, I couldn't carry on living.

I buried my face in my paws. "Why are you being so nice to me about this?"

"What, would you rather we yelled at you? Maybe threw some rocks? Pushed you right into the fire?" Nora said.

"Maybe," I responded.

She sighed in a disappointed, sad sort of way. "You know we're not going to do that."

River rested her head on my shoulder. I wanted to pull away, but I didn't want to upset her. Nora's arm was right by my nose. I could smell her with every breath. It made my heart slow down. I suddenly realized how tired I was.

"You deserve a better friend than me," I murmured.

"Who else could be better," said River, "Than someone who recognizes their faults?"

"I'm scared I'll hurt you." I wondered if I'd regret saying all this in the morning.

"That's not gonna happen," Nora replied.

"What if it does?"

"Then we'll let you know, and you'll make it right. Honestly, dude, I think we have more faith in you than you do."

I lost all faith in myself a long time ago. I was no more trustworthy than a starving lion in a cage.

You tricked them. You fooled them into believing you were someone worth saving. You're a liar.

I was too tired to argue anymore, though I knew what I'd done. Things were about to fall apart, and I was on track to drag them down with me.

The realization was breathtaking.

Whether the Shadow got to me tomorrow or in a hundred years, Nora and River's lives would be the last I'd find a way to ruin.

Chapter Twenty-One

The sun streaming through the trees woke me up the next morning, turning the back of my eyelids red. I groaned and tried to bury my head under my paws.

I normally hated sleeping in. The later I slept, the more I felt like I was missing out on something important. Today, though? I just wanted to stay unconscious.

If I was asleep, I wouldn't have to feel anything. I didn't have to remember. My chest was already flaring with anxiety pains, and I hadn't even opened my eyes. The thoughts were stuck in my head, parading around in an awful procession. They never came this early. Mornings were distracting and bright and fun.

Not today. Today was panning out to be unbearable.

The empty air against my fur told me I was alone. My friends were off doing something. I wondered how long I could lie here before they thought I was dead.

Maybe that wouldn't be such a terrible thing, I thought. It would probably be better for everyone. The Shadow would probably go away. I wouldn't burden my friends anymore. And I wouldn't have to wake up to the same awful realization that I was still me. I would be nothing more than a mossy skeleton beneath a tree. Maybe a bird would make a nest in my skull.

Death seemed so much more peaceful than people made it out to be.

The morbid thoughts made my hackles rise uncomfortably. I sighed, finally blinking open my weary eyes.

Spring was alive—the bright green leaves fluttered cheerfully on their branches, a welcome change from the blood-freezing winter temperatures I was familiar with. Did it get as cold here in the winter as it did back home? It dipped below -30 at least once a year. My hair froze when I walked to the mailbox.

I got up on all fours and stretched before shaking dirt out of my fur and surveying the clearing.

Nora was at the other end, gearing up Seafern for the ride home. River was nowhere to be seen, though I could smell that she had been here recently.

I padded up to Nora quietly. She was frowning in concentration—fighting with a stubborn leather strap—but her face brightened when she saw me. "Hey, buddy!"

"Hi," I replied with as much energy as I could muster. "Have you seen River?" I missed her.

"I think she's—ah, flip, stupid thing—I think she went that way. She'll be back soon. She likes to wander, I think. Ugh, why is this so hard?"

I chuckled. "Need help?"

"No, I got it. It just likes putting up a fight." The buckle slid into place and she beamed.

River came crashing out of the bushes. guys! Look at this! Look at it Right now!

Nora jumped. "What? Where? Is someone dead?"

"no!" She shivered excitedly. "I found a really good bug."

My ears pricked. "Really? Let me see."

Trying to act normal was almost laughable when my whole life was collapsing on my head. The cracks from all of yesterday's blows were spreading across my heart, spiderwebbing on and on until nothing was familiar.

I didn't know what else to do except to pretend it was alright. At least until I figured out what to do.

River shoved her paw into my face excitedly. There was a massive, fat beetle the size of a strawberry scuttling calmly over her claws. It was as iridescent as an oil spill and had two long antennas waving with curiosity.

"Look at it, Starheart!" she bubbled. "Isn't it great? Look at his stubby little legs."

She was so happy. I didn't think she had an ounce of fear in her. Her eyes were so bright, completely free of the overwhelming boulder crushing my chest. At that moment, I would've done anything to trade places with her. Or Nora. Or anyone really, anyone who didn't have my sick thoughts or my dark past. Even one of those poor souls under the Shadow's control. That life was undeniably painful, of course, but at least it wouldn't be my fault.

One of my deepest, darkest shames was the fact that I often wished something truly awful would happen to me. That someone would hurt me gravely and terribly in a way that nobody could ignore, and that was completely out of my control. If that happened, I'd have a reason to be in this much pain. Maybe I wouldn't feel like a liar when people showed me sympathy. I'd tell them about the bleeding wound on my soul and they'd say, 'Oh, you poor creature. Poor Starheart. You've been living like this?

You're so, so brave for making it this far. It's not your fault.' And maybe it would still hurt, maybe I'd still be a wreck, but I wouldn't have the added grief of knowing it was all because of me.

It was a selfish fantasy.

"It's a very beautiful bug." I smiled. "Can I pet him? He's such a sweetie."

"Yes. Be careful, though. He's fragile. Hey, Nora! Come pet the buggy!"

Nora—who was standing as far away as the clearing would physically allow—shuddered. "I'm good. I'm, uhh, I'm sure he's great, but—" She grimaced. "—no thank you."

River shrugged. "Okay." She looked up at me. She was so short she had to crane her neck back to see my face. I thought it was kind of cute, honestly. "I'm going to take him back to where I found him—I think he's scared. I just wanted to show you."

My face got warm. "Thanks. For that."

She disappeared into the trees again.

Nora crept up behind me. "Is it gone?"

I blinked at her. "Yeah."

"Ugh. Thank goodness." She snatched a bag off the ground and approached Seafern again.

And then she started screaming.

The bag thumped into the dirt, spilling supplies all over the dusty ground. Her heart was pounding faster than I'd ever heard it go.

"What?" I cried. "What's wrong?"

She raised a shaky hand and pointed at Seafern's back.

There, sitting atop a leather bag, was a small spider.

"Huh? It's only a daddy long-legs?"

"Oh, this is so not my day," she muttered under her breath.

I looked at her in disbelief. "Are you afraid of bugs?"

"Yes?" she said apprehensively.

"You? Big, tough warrior Nora, seasoned veteran of a million battles, is afraid of bugs?" I teased.

"They're disgusting," she whined. "They're always hiding in places where you need to stick your hands. They look Awful. I mean, why so many legs? I'm fine on two! Eight is overkill! you don't Need that many!

I squeaked and coaxed the little spider onto my paw. "I'll save you from it. I love spiders."

"Starheart, what the hell are you doing? You're just gonna touch it? What if it bites you?"

"It's not venomous." It scuttled over my wrist and made a mad dash up my arm. "Oh no you don't, speedy. You stay where I can see you."

She gagged. "Oh, man. Please keep that thing away from me. It's hideous."

"Ignore her," I whispered to the spider, setting him down on a leaf. "She doesn't mean it. You're beautiful inside and out."

I limped back over. My legs were still sore from yesterday. Nora was staring at my paw like it had been permanently tainted with a daddy long-legs virus.

My sister used to pull the legs off those things, back when we were both little kids. They'd kick and squirm for minutes afterward. I always hated it. I begged her to stop, and when that failed, I ran to the other end of the yard and sobbed.

I had so much empathy back when I was little, just like I did today. I felt everything. A month ago, I cried because I accidentally stepped on an ant. I couldn't understand where that empathy went in those awful years between little kit me and nearly-grown up me. For the life of me, I couldn't make sense of it. I was not, by any means, the kind of person who wished harm on others. And yet I did.

I was not so callous anymore, but I was burdened with the knowledge that I have done things that go against every single thing I believe in. And believe me, with my hyperactive sense of empathy, I felt it all.

It's enough to kill the strongest of people. And I, Starheart, the weird little fox with way too much luck, have never been strong.

"You know, it's okay if you're scared of bugs," I told Nora. "Lots of people have phobias. Me? I hate clowns. They're really creepy.

Why do they have to be so pale? Why would they have to paint smiles on their faces, if they weren't hiding something? And the ones on stilts? That's the stuff of nightmares. Way too tall. My dad took me to the circus once, and it was completely miserable.

I had nightmares for weeks. Like, weird reoccurring nightmares of being trapped in an R.V with a bunch of clowns, and they all tried to turn me into a balloon animal. I told them I don't want to be a balloon animal.

I want to be a regular animal—real foxes don't pop if they touch grass. But they didn't listen. They only mocked me." I took a breath. "I forget what my point is."

She was looking at me really funny. Not in a bad way. It was more of a warm look.

Like she wanted me to keep talking, even though everything I said was really silly. She'd never looked at me like that before. She jolted and looked away the second she saw me watching her.

"Starheart." She fiddled with her sleeve, seeming more like River than herself. "Can you go get the bridle for me? I forgot it on the tree over there."

I trotted over to the tree I'd been sleeping under. I didn't see any bridle. The creaking branches were all bare—

Aha. It had fallen off the branch into a pile of leaves below. I bent to pick it up, and my paw brushed something warm and soft. To my horror, it moved.

I shrieked and jumped back. The leaves rustled, and a feathery black head popped out. The raven had Seafern's bridle clutched in its shiny ebony beak.

"I need that," I said moodily. "This is not a good time."

"Caw."

"Quit it. I know you can talk."

It blinked its beady eyes at me and fluttered its wings. To my surprise, it hopped closer and dropped the bridle at my paws.

"Thank you?"

Its beak stretched open wide. A little too wide to be natural. "The shadows seek the tormented," it rasped. "The shadows seek you."

Without warning, it lunged at me and sank its beak right into my tail. I yelped and whipped my tail back and forth in a blind panic, until my tiny attacker hit a tree trunk with a light thud and a shower of feathers. It glowered at me furiously—as furiously as a bird could look—before flapping off into the forest.

I watched it go, clutching my aching tail between my trembling paws.

I couldn't deny it any longer. This was all on me. The acid returned to my chest in waves, stronger than I'd felt before. Numbly, I wondered how my heart could take so much pressure without giving out. My thoughts narrowed to a single fixed point, and my stomach cramped so hard I wasn't sure I could walk.

Think of something else. It'll pass. It always passes.

An hour or two at most, and I'd be fine. I was always fine.

River was back. She was telling Nora about some old cholera outbreak. I clenched my teeth and returned to my friends. River shrank away from me when she saw me.

"Starheart—"

"Fine. I'm fine. We should go." I knew I reeked of fear, but I was over it. I wanted to deal with it by myself, like I was used to.

She let me be after that.

The day was particularly cold, and the rushing wind that came with flight was even more freezing. I didn't care. I barely registered it. I let my eyes go blurry over the forest below as my thought monsters grew louder.

It never ended, did it? All of this was an endless cycle. Wake up, fight off the bad thoughts, fail, suffer. It never went away. What was even the point of trying anymore if it always ended the same way?

The Shadow was a pretty good reason, I supposed. It fed off my pain. But how did knowing that help me if I couldn't turn it off? If I could stop it, I would have done that a long time ago. I certainly tried.

So, if all of this was true—if fixing the world depended on fixing me—then we were all just screwed, weren't we?

***

I couldn't ever remember being this tired. Every single one of my bones had turned to lead. Dragging my tail along behind me felt like being chained down by a hundred weights. All I wanted was to sleep again.

A couple of hours hadn't made a difference. My head was still loud. My heart was still pounding. I still couldn't breathe.

These attacks had never lasted this long before. I was getting close to bashing my head open on a rock and tearing my own brain out to get it to stop.

We'd stopped for the night. Nora said something about going home tomorrow. I wasn't really listening. My brain was stuck on an endless loop of 'this is terrible, it's all because of me, there's no way out.' I was so tired.

My friends sent me away to get firewood. I wandered listlessly, poking around for wood. It was all wet. Useless. Whatever.

Eventually, I sat down near a cliff and let my paws dangle over the edge. There was a black bird down below. I didn't think it was my bird, though.

Just a random crow. Maybe poking around for food. I wondered if she had chicks. What did baby crows look like, anyway?

All my thoughts were extremely forced and pointed. A noticeable attempt to make myself think of anything else. A largely useless one, too, because the darkness simply bubbled beneath the surface and returned when my internal monologue was over. The more I pushed them away, the deeper they dug in their claws.

The bushes rustled behind me. I smelled River before I saw her.

"What are you doing out here all alone?"

I stared down at my paws and shrugged.

She plopped down next to me, though she kept her black paws away from the rocky edge. "Do you mind if I sit here? Or do you want me to go?"

I blinked my eyes into focus. "No. Please stay. I… I feel a little better when you're around."

She smiled at me. "You're starting to sound like me."

I looked away again. Another crow had joined the first. "That's not such a bad thing."

"Are you okay?"

We both knew I wasn't. "Just tired."

"You're tired a lot lately."

My eyes stung. "I wish I wasn't."

Maybe with Nora I would've done more to hide it. Not out of a lack of trust—simply because she was easier to conceal things around. While River might miss visual cues, my scent was an open book to her, so there was no point in hiding my feelings.

"It's going to be okay, you know," she said. "I promise."

"How can you know for sure?"

"Because it always is. We've made it this far. Each of us has survived everything we've been through. If this is anything like that, then we'll be alright. Not to say it'll be easy, but we'll survive."

The crows were squabbling with each other. I wished I was a bird—a creature whose worst worries would be someone else stealing their worms. Actually, even being the worm didn't seem so bad.

She leaned closer. "We're not going to let you die, Starheart."

"What makes you think—"

"Come on, friend. I know that's what you're afraid of. I'm no fool." Her fuzzy grey chest rose and fell. "We will not allow it to happen. No matter what that thing tries, or how large it grows, we won't let it. I promise."

My ears drooped. "I know you won't."

That was exactly the problem.

The Shadow wasn't like anything my friends had faced before. It didn't have a physical form. It could touch us, but we couldn't hope to touch it. How could anyone fight darkness itself?

How could anyone face off against a creature that was basically invincible and hope to survive? My friends were tough, but nobody could fight smoke. If they tried, it was going to kill them. And I knew they'd try.

I couldn't let that happen. I didn't know how I'd manage it, or what I'd do, but I wasn't going to let them die for me. Of all the people in the world, I was the least deserving of a sacrifice like that. I hadn't done a single good thing in my life.

The witch had already confirmed my worst fears and more. It was here for me, here because of me, and it wasn't going to stop until all the waves of pain that lapped endlessly at my heart receded.

But that was never going to happen, was it? I'd ruined myself. Wrecked any chance I had at happiness. This misery ate away at me more and more each day. There was no chance, no universe in which it stopped.

There was only one way this could end.

I was going to die here.

I was never getting home. I'd never see my fish again. I'd never get to hug my mom and tell her I was sorry for disappearing. Every dream I'd had about my life faded to black. This was all I'd ever be: the cruel, broken fox who crumpled under the weight of her own choices.

I broke down. My sobs echoed against the barren cliff, startling the crows into flight. My eyes stung with all the words I couldn't say.

She hugged me wordlessly. I let her. I was too exhausted to care about her seeing me like this. She was one of the only things in the world that felt alright.

I was going to miss her so much.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Right there. That's the last mountain. We're almost home."

I peered over Nora's shoulder, disappointed I couldn't see anything yet. The vast grey peak blocked my view. At least the sun was setting behind us, casting blood-red light over the stones.

The ever-shrinking rational part of my brain was glad we were almost home. I loved flying, but after four straight days, I was more than ready to stop.

The mountain shrank below us as Seafern flapped higher to clear the final peak. River hugged me from behind. She nearly fell off earlier that morning when we hit a patch of bumpy air, and she seemed extra nervous flying after that.

All three of us held our breath as the mountain dropped away into the home I felt like I hadn't seen in years.

I sucked in a breath.

"Oh, no…" Nora muttered.

River whined.

It was so much worse than I thought. The dark patch had grown at an exponential rate, swallowing up every inch of the forest. Not a single tree was untouched. They were all black, withered, and dead.

Leafless branches like skeletal hands reached their bony fingers up to grasp the clouds. Our cabin was a small island of green in a sea of death.

"Nora!" River called urgently. "Look at that. Right over there. Do you see it?"

"What're you—" she gasped. "Oh, crap."

I followed their gazes. The blackness surrounded all of Fable's Reach. At first, I couldn't understand what they were talking about. All of it looked the same: a rotten ring of black surrounding the town like an infection.

Then it hit me. The safe, untouched map of the town was far smaller than it should be. The space beyond the cliffs—almost all of Live-Action Land—was gone. Completely swallowed up in an ocean of darkness.

"Are they…?" I couldn't say it.

"I don't know." Nora sounded clipped. Afraid.

"What do we do?" River whispered in my ear. She clung to me tighter.

Nora steered Seafern sharply towards Balance. Even they seemed shocked into silence, not even tossing their head in playful protest. "We find Jerico. If we can."

If he's not dead. If he's not taken. None of us wanted to consider the possibility of our only ally being gone.

Our final conversation came back to me. I couldn't believe I hadn't thought about Jerico's warning since. How much worse had things gotten? From everyone else's perspective I up and vanished on an adventure while the world fell to bits.

We were close enough to land, but Seafern kept circling awkwardly. Every spare inch of space was completely covered in tents, campfires, and makeshift shelters. People—dozens of them, mostly Live-Action characters—gawked up at us as we hovered overhead.

Clearly, some of them had escaped the Shadow's attack, though this was only a fraction of the people who lived in the bustling city below the cliffs. A cold blade of realization stabbed me in the heart.

How many people were lost because of me? How many hundreds of souls had been taken?

Nobody knew if the afflicted could recover. There was easily a chance they couldn't—that the Shadow's hold on them would kill them completely.

I might've killed them all.

Nora found a spot for Seafern's massive bulk at the outskirts of the tent city, about halfway into the market. They had to fold in their wings and curl their tail beneath their belly to fit between the narrow stalls.

I thumped to the ground in a cloud of dust. The packed dirt was much rougher on my paw pads than the loose forest soil.

Nora patted Seafern's shoulder. "Stay here, buddy. We'll be back as soon as we can."

They nodded stoically.

The market was even more crowded than usual. Most people weren't browsing the stalls or buying things, instead milling around listlessly with various levels of stress on their faces.

A lot of them—most of them, it seemed—were looking at us. Looking at me. I kept my head low and tried not to panic. It proved difficult. I could hear them whispering about me, much more harshly than they ever had before.

River's quiet, reserved wall was back in full force now that we were home. She shrank beneath the icy glare of old, Claymation pirate. His furiously curled lip revealed broken golden teeth. She fixed her eyes on the ground and she dodged away from anyone who got too close.

All the attention we were getting couldn't have helped her anxiety. I took her paw reassuringly and tried to shield her from the furious glowers as best I could, though it was fairly pointless. We were surrounded on all sides. She clung to me like a burr.

Nora muscled her way through the throng effortlessly. Most people stepped out of the way when they saw her. I wasn't sure whether it was the sword, her deadly serious expression, or her reputation for accidental fires, but it worked.

I walked smack into something large and soft. It smelled like blood and pipe smoke.

"Aha," a voice growled. "The suspect has returned."

One of the Sherlocks had cut me off, blocking me from following Nora. The number thirteen was hastily scrawled onto his double brimmed cap in red marker. He blew a cloud of smoke in my face with an irritating amount of arrogance. My eyes watered.

"Criminals always return to the scene of the crime," he said.

"I didn't do this," I said desperately. "Not on purpose, at least."

I realized the mistake in the words the second they left my snout.

"So you admit …" He scowled, leaning closer. "… that you indeed caused this?"

The crowd was concentrating around us, rippling with growing anger. One man threw a can at me, though he seriously misjudged the distance and it sailed over my head to smack some poor lady in the face.

"I—I don't—I mean—" I stammered. My words caught on my tongue.

I searched the mob desperately for Nora, but she'd long since disappeared. I could only hope she'd realize her unintended abandonment and come back to save us before they tore us both apart.

It didn't look like that was going to happen.

Someone shoved me. I stumbled back. The corner of a table stabbed into my spine. The pain was sickening.

River pinned her ears furiously. "Back off. Leave her be." Her voice was shaky but firm.

I gaped at her in shock. She was standing between me and the writhing mob. Every single eye turned to fixate on her. She stank of terror, but she didn't flinch.

My heart warmed, despite the thorns still tearing at it. She's so brave.

Unfortunately, the crowd didn't share my admiration. Their anger doubled, this time focused on River as well as me. Hands tore at our fur. Someone stomped my tail. I recognized two of them: a pizza puppet I'd met on my first day here and the woman who sold bottled wheat ghosts. Any sign of the welcoming friendliness they'd shown me was long gone, swallowed up with the displaced peoples homes.

"Stop this at once!" a proper voice commanded.

To my surprise, everyone obeyed.

Jerico thrust his way into the circle, followed closely by Nora. She beelined over to us. River looked like she might collapse with relief.

"What is the meaning of this?" Jerico demanded. I hadn't realized he was capable of any emotions besides faint disappointment.

"It's back," said a man with bright green skin and fluttering gills. "The one who ruined my home. I lost my son to the darkness. He's only five!"

My legs grew weaker beneath me.

"Young Starheart is not responsible for your plight. The monster is. Blind violence will get us nowhere."

That seemed to rile up the group more. Loud shouts of protest broke out. The citizens pressed dangerously close to us.

Jerico herded the three of us out the rapidly vanishing exit and down the street to his shop. He slammed the door behind us and threw the lock.

He leaned against the door and mopped the sweat off his face. "Goodness, Nora, what good is that sword if you don't use it?"

"What, now you want me to stab somebody? Make up your mind, dude."

"I never said stab. It is simply an effective intimidation tool."

"I don't threaten people who are already scared," she said seriously. The joking tone in her voice had vanished.

Children. Children were hurt. Small, defenseless kids were puppets of a monster of unimaginable power.

They must be so scared.

Nora shook my shoulders roughly. "Come on, buddy, don't listen to them. They're all idiots. We need you right now."

"Indeed," Jerico agreed. "They're simply looking for someone to blame. Yesterday, it was me. Today, it is you. Tomorrow? God knows who." He jumped when something crashed brutally against the door from the other side. "Perhaps we should speak somewhere more isolated."

The room above his shop had—somehow—become even more unkempt in the days since we left. Several shelves had collapsed, leaving random piles of paper and books scattered across the floor. Hundreds of scrawled notes plastered every available surface. It looked like a corner of one of the bookshelves had caught fire, leaving behind a stinking black ash stain.

"Were you robbed?" asked River, startled.

"Yes. But not up here. This was my doing." He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Irrelevant. What have you three found?"

Nobody really wanted to be the one to tell him.

"Oh, goodness," he fretted. "What happened? What did she tell you?"

"Um. Nothing?" River offered meekly.

He stared at her like she'd sprouted a second head. A book slid from his hand and exploded on the floor, adding to the tremendous mess. "Please tell me you're not serious."

"She wouldn't talk to us."

He squeezed his eyes shut and ran a hand through his tangled hair. The bags under his eyes made him look a hundred years older. I wondered if he'd had even a moment of peace since we left. It didn't look like it. I was worried he'd collapse there and then.

"Half the city, children," he rasped. "Half the city's population was taken. They roam the streets at night, stealing anyone they can find. Everyone who still has a home is too terrified to leave it. We can't afford to waste time like this."

For once, Nora didn't argue with his word choice. She dragged an old, beat-up wooden chair from the corner and he collapsed into it gratefully.

Everyone's voices felt distant to me. Detached. The speed at which the world was falling to pieces was dizzying. A few more days without a solution, and we'd all be dead.

I knew what the solution was. I knew what was inevitable. It felt like the Shadow was delaying it on purpose—saving me for last—and it was driving me crazy.

Why not just kill me, if I was the only one who deserved it? Why hurt everyone else?

I was scared to die. Who wouldn't be? But all this waiting was making it worse than it needed to be. I almost wanted it to happen already.

They were talking. Something about a second solution Jerico found. One that would take at least a week to research.

We don't have that kind of time.

We barely have hours.

Minutes, maybe.

I ran my claws between the books to keep from screaming. The titles etched into their spines were little more than blurry smudges of gold. My eyes fell to a dead fly on the shelf, rock hard and lying on its back. Something completely insignificant, yet enough to make the claws around my heart squeeze harder. Were we that insignificant to the Shadow? Nothing more than dead bugs to be crushed?

No. I was more than a bug to that thing. It wouldn't hunt me down like this unless I was truly a danger. A single fly was not that powerful.

River came up to me and touched my arm. I almost lashed out at her—my peripheral vision saw her as nothing more than a dark shape approaching me. It was so much like how the Shadow used to follow me, back before things got bad.

Was I losing my mind?

I could have hurt her, if I hadn't realized it was her in time. That probably would've been enough to send me spiraling a few days ago, though the pure roar of dread in my mind was so loud at that point that it barely made a difference. It was another echo in an unending torrent.

"We're going home now, friend." She spoke gently and carefully, like she thought I'd turn to dust if she didn't.

I realized I was staring at her intently. I blinked and looked away. There was a small, green, cactus-shaped bookmark on the floor.

The edge pressed into my paw pad. I hadn't realized it was hurting me until I saw it. It was small and colourful, like the things they'd sell for a dollar at our school book fairs, back when we were young enough that they still did that kind of stuff.

I missed those book fairs. I missed being a kid. Everything felt easier back then, before I got mean and the world got bad and I hadn't stabbed myself in the tail with my own decisions.

I didn't have the right to complain about it, did I?

Jerico made us leave through the back door of his shop. He was afraid the mob was still waiting out front, and it would be too dangerous for me to face them again. It left me wondering—not for the first time—what the point of protecting me even was.

My friends knew as well as I did by that point that I needed to die to free the world. All their efforts to protect me were drawing out an endless loop of suffering. Even if the Shadow disappeared by some miracle, what would stop me from becoming bad again? Who could say that I wouldn't become a miserable bully once more later down the line? What if I ruined even more lives?

It was my greatest fear: returning to who I used to be, falling back into the same cruel patterns. My fear of becoming that person again seeped into everything I did. I couldn't buy a pack of gum without panicking about supporting the wrong company.

Sometimes I wondered where all of this came from. I knew it could be traced back to how I treated Cammy and everyone else in my life back then, but why did my mind react the way it did? Guilt was natural. Of course it was. But in all the stories of former bullies and aggressors I'd read, I didn't see anyone talk about the feelings I had. The ones that lived in my head so relentlessly, so loudly, chanting in that same horrible voice.

Every possible decision I made, every single step I took, was tinged with the fear of causing harm. I couldn't survive like this long term. I knew that. It was a matter of when it came crashing down on my head. Not if.

I collapsed on the couch the moment we got home. My head thunked gently against the window. The pane, cold with the night air, stung my nose. I heard Seafern pacing restlessly outside as they patrolled the edge of the pitch-dark forest.

The glowing red light of a small speaker on the coffee table cast a haunting reflection into the trees. It burned like a familiar eye staring back at me, ever observing and eternally judging. I watched it blink on and off.

I couldn't ever remember the fear waves being this bad. It seemed like lifetimes since I'd last felt any peace. Even before the witch, the constant battle against my thoughts was relentless and draining. I'd do almost anything to stop it.

My friends followed me—Nora on the couch next to me and River in her usual spot on the floor, despite there being plenty of space for all three of us.

Nora fiddled with the speaker. It jingled a cheerful melody as it switched off. The light in the trees died, leaving only darkness vast enough to swallow me whole. She watched me quietly for a long time. I thought she might try to tell me that everything was alright again, that it was all fine.

"We're here if you need us," she said instead.

"Thanks—"

"No. Really." She leaned forward, elbow resting on her knees. Her glassy-eyed expression fell onto the chipped corner of the table. "Whatever it is. Whatever you need.

I'd—we'd do anything for you. You know that, right? Anything."

She seemed weary and distracted. Like she was so deeply lost in thought that only a portion of her mind could find its way back. I nuzzled her shoulder in silent acknowledgement.

She scratched behind my ear absentmindedly. It felt nice.

River clambered up onto the couch next to me and poked me until I turned around. She pressed something small and hard into my palm. A little grey pebble with a wobbly happy face drawn on it.

"You're scared," she said. "That's okay. I am, too. We all are.

Perhaps that's better. Being scared is harder when you're alone." She nosed the rock.

"That's Tim. I like to hold him when I'm frightened. The cold calms me down. You can keep him. So you're not quite so alone." Her tiredness made her words seem forced and pointed, like it was hard to get them out.

I was afraid that if I opened my mouth to thank her I'd start crying again. So, I just hugged her. She whimper-squeaked and licked my ear.

I couldn't help but wonder if they'd miss me when I was gone. How much would I break them? Would they cry? Of all the people, all the hearts I never wanted to break, it was theirs.

It really was a matter of time, wasn't it? Wolves are born to hunt. Rabbits are born to run. Some deeper nature in me was designed to cause hurt.

River and Nora were new victims in my unending parade of selfishness. Maybe they wouldn't see it right away, but they were better off without me. The world would be better off without me.

As for me? I was ready for it all to stop.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Starheart! Wake up!

Something hit me in the face. I bolted upright, my heart pounding. The darkness of River's room was disorienting in the seconds it took for my eyes to adjust. The dark masses in the corner turned into shelves.

The terrifying, humanoid figure leaning over me turned familiar and nonthreatening. She clutched River's stuffed chicken, preparing to throw it at me again.

I rubbed my sore eyes. "Nora, what…? It's two in the morning."

"It's raining!" Her voice was bursting with excitement.

She was right. The distant roar of raindrops pounded on the roof in a wild, rhythmic tempo. The house shook with a crazed explosion of too-close thunder. I felt the rumble in my teeth.

"We're going outside!" she said, flinging Feathers across the room. "Come on!"

My sleepiness vanished. "Are you insane?"

"Yup! Come on!" She bolted out the door.

I scrambled after her. My paw caught on a blanket and I crashed to the floor. I made it up on my third try and followed her down the stairs.

"Nora, why?" I panted.

"For fun!"

River was standing next to the front door. I gave her a desperately confused look. "Are you hearing this? She's lost her mind!"

River barked a laugh and dragged me down the hallway. "Have you really never played in the rain before?"

So they'd both gone crazy. Neat.

I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes. "Is it even safe? What if something sees us?"

The image of a pack of bloodthirsty afflicted came to mind. The midnight shadows made for perfect hiding places. We were practically surrounded in our small forest recess. There were a million different ways they could hurt my friends. The world was too big, too wide, too full of pain.

Nora took both my paws. The tiredness that plagued her the night before had vanished. Her eyes were bright with new energy. Her voice was steady and reassuring as she spoke to me. "Don't think about all that.

Leave those fears in the future. It belongs to tomorrow. For now? Just let yourself feel free. Do you trust me?"

With my life.

"Yes."

She tugged me out into the rain.

The downpour was torrential. I was soaked to the bone instantly, as wet as if I'd been dropped into the ocean. The sound of it roared all around me in a steady rhythm.

I hadn't realized how uncomfortably hot I was until the cool water kissed my skin. The smell of damp grass and fresh mud was glorious. I squeezed my eyes shut and raised my snout to the clouds, feeling more alive than I'd felt in days. There was a beautiful freedom in the wild rage of nature. I belonged to it. It belonged to me.

Something disgustingly thick and wet smacked me in the chest, bringing me back. My snow-white chest fur was splattered black with freezing mud. Nora had chucked a goopy ball of wet dirt at me. She cackled like a crazy person when she saw my face.

"You traitor!" I gasped in mock offense. "After everything we've been through? I'll get you for that!"

I grabbed a fistful of mud and launched it at her. She screamed and ran away from me, nearly losing it in the slick mud. I bolted after her, launching unforgiving soggy lumps all the way. The sound of the rain couldn't drown out our happy hearts.

My paws kicked up a spray of muck in my wake. Nora—quickly realizing that she couldn't outrun me—stopped abruptly. I slid into her ungracefully. My mudball exploded and soaked us both.

"River!" she cried. "Help! She's gonna kill me!"

Nora pounced on me and pinned my arms to my sides. I might've been faster, but she was way stronger. I couldn't wriggle away.

River splashed over. She rolled a clump of mud between her paws slowly and threateningly, her eyes flickering between the two of us. The hazy downpour made her look menacing.

"Dude, quick! Starheart is—ow—she's biting me!"

River turned and smashed the mud right into her face.

hey!

"Run, Starheart!"

I ran far enough to find the wettest, squishiest mud I could find, before rejoining River and pelting Nora into oblivion.

We spent what felt like forever out in the rainstorm, chasing each other down, attacking and rescuing and betraying. I was laughing so hard my stomach hurt. My eyes stung with grit and my mouth tasted horrible, but it was wonderful.

After long days of flying, my muscles ached beautifully with the use they'd missed. Nora was right. It could wait.

All of it could wait. I never wanted to be anywhere but here, running and playing until my lungs burned and my heart nearly burst.

I was running from Nora when my paw caught on a loose pebble. Slick with mud and rain, it slid out from under me and shot away into the night. My footing lost, I went hurtling forward at maximum speed towards the ground.

River broke my fall, catching me a heartbeat before I bonked my poor snout. I clung to her desperately, my paws still determined to skid in every possible direction.

"Help," I squeaked.

She laughed at me. Right then, it had to be the most wonderful sound in the world. Better than music. Brighter than the sun. "You're silly, Starheart. I'm glad you're here."

That same funny feeling I'd been ignoring for days fluttered to life in my heart again. It was confusing. New. I couldn't begin to make sense of it—I'd never felt anything like it before. It was like the nerves I felt back at school, except tinged with happiness and warmth instead of dread and shame. Maybe it was normal—I hadn't had close friends in so long that it was totally possible I'd forgotten what it felt like.

I couldn't help but wonder if my friends felt like that around me, too.

I saw a glimpse of green scales in my peripheral vision mere seconds before a massive tsunami of water came crashing down on our heads and knocked us to the ground. I gasped and coughed, shaking the water out of my eyes. Nora tripped over me and landed squarely on top of poor River.

Seafern roared with glee and slapped their tail into the puddle again, soaking us all with a fresh wave. The ground shook violently as they flopped down into the mud and rolled around joyfully.

I laid breathlessly next to my friends, watching the droplets pour out of the clouds and relishing in the glory of the moment.

"Dude," said Nora next to me. "Guys. You wanna hear something?"

I licked water off my nose. "What?"

"You guys are, like, my best friends."

River tackle hugged her. I sucked in a cool breath as the familiar pains I'd been battling returned with a ferocious vengeance.

"You're my best friends, too," I responded.

I loved them both. Deeply and truly, I did. They felt more like family to me than anyone I'd ever met. If this continued—and it would, the Shadow enjoyed toying with me like a cat with its mouse—they would die for me. I already knew I couldn't let them.

As my darkest thought yet came to life in my head, I tried to tell myself that was why: a need to protect them. And it was. Partly.

But really, truly, it was because of me. I couldn't bear living like this any longer. The pain wasn't worth it. Every day, from when I woke up to when I fell asleep, was haunted. Haunted by the heartbroken faces of everyone I'd ever been cruel to. Haunted by the pain in Cammy's voice when I last spoke to her. This wasn't a life. It was barely survival.

I was drowning every minute, every heartbeat, every breath. I'd known for a long time that my life was a mistake—I was long overdue to correct it.

It was over for me. I wouldn't have to suffer anymore. A strange, calm peace washed over me as I realized this.

Everything was going to be okay.

***

The inside of the cabin was pleasantly warm when we went back inside. The water soaking my fur seemed a million times heavier as I took in the sights of my favourite place. The drawings stuck to every available wall.

The various scratches and dents in every piece of furniture from Nora battle training inside the house. It was them. Every surface held meaning to me.

I'd never been in a state like that before. My head was so black, my thoughts so dark, that I was operating on autopilot. It was eerie knowing that I should be breaking but instead being perfectly calm about what I needed to do.

"How was that?" Nora rocked on her heels excitedly as she spoke to me. "Did that help? Feeling better?"

I would never understand how she had that much energy at all hours of the day. She was the sun in the shape of a person.

"Yeah," I breethd. I gave her the most convincing look I could. "I'm okay. You don't have to worry about me anymore."

She flinched like I'd hit her. The fear on her face told me that I'd said something wrong. I wasn't fooling her. I never did.

I needed to be very careful.

River was looking up at me with wide, happy eyes. Completely unsuspecting. Hopeful, even. If my heart could've broken any more, it would've.

I'd miss her adorable face. The way she was so small she had to look up at everyone. Her random rambles about history. She was so awkward and sweet and way too pure for someone like me. I hoped Nora would protect her. She needed it.

Of course Nora would. I'd never met anyone so fiercely brave, yet so kind. She was everything a hero should be: golden hearted, true, effortlessly courageous. Everything about her made the world feel… better. I couldn't be the only one who felt that way.

I shook my thoughts away. This wasn't making it any easier.

"I need…" My voice faltered. "I should sleep."

Everything in me wanted to tell them how breathtaking they both were. I wanted to say I was sorry, that I'd miss them, that they made my short time alive worth it. I wanted to give them a moment they'd remember. Something that actually felt worth everything they'd done for me.

But I couldn't. Not without them catching on.

"Goodbye," I said quietly. I couldn't fight the urge to pull them into a hug.

River hugged me back cheerfully. "Goodbye, friend. I'll see you in the morning. Sweet dreams."

I bit my tongue so hard I tasted metal.

Nora looked even more uncomfortable. Her heart was nervous. "Are you sure you're okay?"

I pulled away and nodded. I took them in one last time—willing myself to remember their image—and turned away.

Dragging myself up the stairs and away from them was probably the hardest thing I'd ever done. But I couldn't look back. I wouldn't allow myself to. They were the only thing in the world that I'd regret leaving. The only thing that could possibly convince me to stay.

They had each other, though, right? They didn't need me. It wasn't like I was leaving them all alone.

The door of River's room—our room—clicking shut behind me was like a switch flipping. I sank to the floor, my legs shaking so badly that they couldn't hold my weight anymore. My heart was thundering in my ears. My breath—fast, panicked, ragged—seemed to fill the entire room.

My claws dug into the floor so hard the tips snapped off. My ears were buzzing and my eyes went blurry.

Am I really doing this?

My choice was already set in stone. I could feel it. The weight of my decision had settled over my heart and it was too late to turn back.

A weird, alarming fog washed over me. It was like my soul took two steps back from my body, distancing myself from everything that was happening. It felt like I was existing in a dream—everything was unreal and detached and strangely fake.

My strange mental state was numbing enough for me to drag myself across the room and grab a pencil and a page from River's sketchbook. I triple checked it was empty before tearing it out. I hated the thought of ruining one of her drawings. My paws were shaky, but I held the pencil with remarkable steadiness as I wrote one final message to the people who felt like home.

Nora and River:

I'm sorry. You don't have to forgive me. I'd rather you didn't.

You may never see it my way, but this is for the best. I'm dangerous. I'm hurtful. The world is better with me gone. It would've been better if I never existed. A person like me is a poison. I hurt everyone I touch.

You did your best. You didn't fail me. I failed myself. I failed you.

I need you to know that this was always going to happen—I've been an accident since birth. I just can't take it anymore. I can't live with myself knowing the pain I've caused.

This will fix things for you, too. I wouldn't leave if I didn't know that. It's going to be okay.

Take care of each other.

I love you.

-S

I hesitated before scratching out the last three words.

My left paw had smudged the words as I went, but it was still decently legible. I snuck into the hallway and left the note folded up neatly and taped to the outside of Nora's door. She'd see it when the time was right. Hopefully not too soon.

I froze when I heard my friends talking through the scratched wood. Their voices were tense and rife with feeling. I couldn't stop myself from leaning closer to listen.

"…Definitely wrong." I heard Nora pacing. "Kinda freaking me out, actually."

River was quiet for a second. "But she told us she was feeling better."

"I don't believe her."

She really was on to me. Nora was smarter than she'd ever give herself credit for.

It was time to go.

The rain was still falling as I stepped out into the night, though now it felt heavy and cold. It bogged down my fur and made every step weigh a thousand tons. The blustery wind burned my nose and nipped at my ear tips. The forest around the cabin loomed menacingly, an endless wall of death.

I crossed the backyard, past training dummies that looked far too real in the downpour. I tried not to think too hard about what was coming. Tried not to worry about how much it would hurt. The fogginess in my head made it easy—I could sink into it and let it take me away.

My disobedient paws froze at the edge of the woods. The shapes of trunks and bushes were barely visible even to my extra-sharp eyes in the unnatural darkness. A small shiver of dread rippled through me as the Shadow's rotten scent swept over me again.

A low rumble broke my concentration. Seafern crouched down next to me, their scaly face worried. Their eyes were serious as they nosed my shoulder.

Rats. I'd completely forgotten about them.

"It's okay," I said. "Go back to your nest. I'm alright."

They cast a worried look up at the faint glow of Nora's window. I could see the conflict on their face.

You shouldn't be out here, their whine seemed to say.

"Please don't get her," I begged. "I'm going to help her. Both of us. But you need to stay quiet, okay? Please?"

I held my breath as the dragon hesitated.

Then, reluctantly, they nodded, licked my cheek, and slunk away to watch me from across the yard.

Wiping the dragon slobber from my fur, I turned my attention back to the woods.

Once I went in, there was no going back. It would be over. For good.

It should've scared me. It didn't. Nothing could be worse than this, right? Nothing could be worse than existing as someone as vile and unforgivable as me. It would be an escape. A rest. Like going to sleep. Nobody would ever be hurt by me again.

I took a deep breath and stepped into the dark.

Chapter Twenty-Four

The rain stopped immediately, blocked by tangled, claw-like branches above. It was no less cold, though—the dark mist was freezing. My breath turned to smoke.

I expected the Shadow to show its ugly face the second I entered the woods. I was met with only the eerie silence of an unnaturally quiet forest. As I crept deeper, I was aware of scents other than rot and fear. There were people around me, following me just out of sight.

There was no feeling quite like marching to your own death. Knowing that every pawstep, every breath, was nearing the end of the last ones you'd ever take. That soon the light would die in your eyes and your body would be no more than a piece of meat left for the worms.

Was it any wonder it had come to this? How was I supposed to live when my own mind spent every waking minute trying to drag me under? It was a brutal, unending struggle that only ever could have ended in tragedy.

It was my decisions that had led me here. I deserved all of it.

I froze when I heard rustling in the bushes ahead of me—the first sound to pierce the night that wasn't my own heart.

Two afflicted stepped out, their dead eyes fixed on me. One was a Puppet character—an enormous bright pink rabbit who towered over me. The fabric of his body was torn and stained with sludge. The place where his heart should've been was losing stuffing. His mouth—which was leaking a strange, sticky black substance—was frozen in a wide smile.

One of his eyes was gone, leaving only a dark hole. His friend was what I could only describe as a zombie. They'd been a zombie before the Shadow—I remembered seeing them shuffling around Balance on my first day—but the shadow sickness clearly hadn't helped the situation. Their eyes were bloodshot and they had a thousand-yard stare.

I straightened up. "I'm here willingly. I'm going to see the Shadow. You don't have to—hey! What are you doing?"

They lunged forward and each grabbed one of my arms. Pretty roughly, too.

"What did I just say?" I growled. My guilt flared even brighter and I dropped my gaze.

This couldn't happen fast enough.

I let the two of them haul me through the forest. They walked with confidence, despite their sickly limbs. They seemed to have no trouble at all navigating in the pitch dark.

As we travelled, I saw the people who'd been following me begin to show their faces. Characters from every show and media type imaginable: animated animals, like me; Live Action pirates with crooked, mangled hats; a Clay wizard, who, upon seeing me, vanished into a puff of smoke; countless normal-looking people who must've been from sitcoms or slice-of-life dramas and had no chance of ever fighting off a monster as powerful as the Shadow. I even saw a vicious human baby who nipped at my ankles as I passed.

My heart sank even further when I noticed something small and pink sitting on a leaf. Poor Mr. Topsoil. His hat was missing and he seemed completely catatonic. I called out to him as I passed by—earning me a whack over the head from the bunny—but he didn't react.

Soon, we had a whole mob following us, a macabre parade of victims leaving black slime and gore in their wake.

I couldn't tell how long we'd been walking, but it was at least one or two kilometers before my captors stopped abruptly and shoved me into a clearing. I caught myself before I faceplanted. The still healing scab on my left paw stung.

I got up and shook the dust from my fur. Everyone else was gone from view, though I could still smell them nearby.

Then a new smell hit me. It was the same familiar reek of pain and fear and rotting flesh that filled the whole forest, but a hundred times stronger. It was so thick I could taste it. I couldn't help but gag.

All the air seemed to drain from the clearing at once. The darkness swirled and twisted, converging at one fixed point directly opposite me. The patch of darkness—dark enough to rival the surrounding shadows—was only the size of a fist.

But it was getting bigger.

It swelled before my eyes, growing until it was the size of a basketball, and then a large dog. I willed my shaking limbs not to run as it grew to a massive size that would have been enough to block out the sun, had it still been visible. As it expanded, it changed shape.

Strong, wickedly-clawed front limbs as thick as tree trunks sprouted. A mouth full of hundreds of shadowy teeth nearly split its head in half. Two painfully bright, blood red eyes blinked open.

Terror immobilized my limbs.

The Shadow stretched its terrible head to the sky with the air of a creature who had been slumbering for a hundred years. Its horrid, putrid breath was strong enough to crack the branches above.

Slowly, it lowered its face until its nightmarish eyes were level with mine. Its mouth cracked open in a horrible smile.

"Hello, little fox," it rumbled. "Back so soon?"

I willed myself to find the strength to speak. My throat had gone bone dry, and no words came out. My calming fog had been replaced by a nearly overwhelming terror. Still, I held steady.

"You're not running." The Shadow sounded almost surprised. It narrowed its eyes in suspicion.

"No," I said. My voice was shockingly stable. "I'm done running. I've come to make a deal."

It leaned back with a look of smug satisfaction. "Ssssooooo," it hissed. "The little blight has finally realized the world is better off without her."

I dropped my gaze. "You were right. All I ever do is hurt people. There's something bad inside me. I'm… I'm evil. Wrong."

Part of me knew how strange it was confessing these feelings to a creature that wanted me dead. Why should it care? Why should I ever trust it with something I couldn't even voice to my own friends?

Yet it seemed to understand. The glimmer in its eyes was almost sympathetic as it watched me. It reached out and caressed my face with a deadly, clawed hand. The way it touched me was strange—completely devoid of the affection my friends' little touches and hugs were filled with. This was hungry. It was the touch of a creature who couldn't wait to destroy me.

"You poor, poor creature," it purred. "Suffering with such a dark heart. It's a wonder you ever made it this far. Aren't you tired of this? Tired of being such a waste? A burden? You could be free of this, you know. I can make the pain stop."

"How?" I whispered.

"You know how. That's why you've come. Don't play coy with me, child."

"And you'll leave my friends alone? You'll set everyone else free?"

It dipped its head. "You have my word. All I came here to do was free this world from your disgusting soul. My work will be done."

Despite its harsh words, my exhausted desperation, and my overwhelming fear, my curiosity was piqued.

"What are you?" I asked. "Why are you here? I need to know, before…" I shivered.

It glowered at me for a moment. I thought it was going to refuse to answer, that I'd die never knowing why this monster chose me. Then it straightened up to its full height, looming over me like a panther about to strike. It opened its wide, toothy grin mockingly.

"Don't you understand, fool? I am you. I am the beast that haunts your mind. I am every bit of pain you've inflicted upon this world. I cannot exist without you. And you cannot exist without me."

I took a step back. "No. I didn't make you." My voice was pleading. Desperate.

It leaned closer, until its rotting breath made my head spin. "Oh, but you did. You created me with every cruel word, ever malicious action.

You willed me into a miserable, wretched existence. I am simply here to make you pay."

I didn't know what to say to that. Nausea rolled over me in waves. I couldn't fight back a sob.

I never wanted to hurt people.

But I did, didn't I? None of it was a mistake. It was never an accident. I was a monster. I fed off pain, exactly like the Shadow did.

It was always going to end like this.

I looked up at it, and my eyes said it all.

"You have to ask," it rumbled. "You have to let me in."

"Please." My voice broke into a thousand pieces. "Please take me. I give up. Make it stop. For good. And please don't let it hurt."

It chuckled. A low, dangerous sound. "Oh, no. That's far better than you deserve."

And then it struck.

Faster than light, hundreds of dark tendrils wrapped around my body, squeezing me tighter and tighter. My paws were ripped clear off the ground. I couldn't move.

Even my tail was squeezed tight in shadowy bindings. The speed that it happened at was dizzying—I hadn't even managed to catch my bearings when the pain started.

White-hot agony ripped through my chest, spreading throughout my body. In all my years of accidents and injuries, I'd never felt anything so unimaginably awful. It felt like my entire body was being cleaved in half by a sword hotter than a hundred suns. A horrible, inhuman shriek cut through the night. The sound died when my throat spasmed violently, reducing my voice to a wheezing gasp.

Something cold and rough wrapped around my lower jaw, wrenching it open far too wide. I couldn't see what was happening. My eyes were blurred with tears.

A tendril snaked into my mouth. The taste was even more foul than the smell. It slithered deeper, farther, until it was forcing itself down my throat. It burned like molten steel being poured into my mouth. My stomach twisted and revolted, the sour taste of sickness joining the horrible flavour of the dark.

The shadows were tearing me apart from the inside out.

Despite the pain, despite the horror, my mind was somewhere else.

It was at home, with my goldfish and my posters and my familiar bed.

It was at school, where Cammy hung out with her new friends and tried to heal from me.

It was in a sterile hospital, where my parents crouched over a body brimming with strange new wounds.

It was back at the cabin, with my friends who may or may not have been aware that they'd already lost me.

My thoughts lingered in that final place. On the faces of the two people I loved more than life itself. The way they spoke my name was etched into my mind. I could never forget those voices.

"Starheart!"

My unfocused eyes saw the shape of two people racing towards me.

No.

I tried to cry out. Tried to shout at them to leave, get out of here, don't do this.

I couldn't do anything but choke.

River grabbed my paws, bracing against the dirt and pulling with an impressive strength I hadn't known she was capable of. The shadowy tentacles squeezed tighter in retaliation, curling below my ribs and sending fresh waves of pain through my wounded chest.

The sound of steel rang through the night. Nora charged at the beast, aiming to pierce its dark heart straight through. It was prepared—a hundred more arms descended from the sky and reached for her, completely immune to Dragonheart's blade. She was faster, dodging each of its attacks with an almost effortless ease.

She was a gnat to that thing. Little more than a harmless pest. But it was working. It screeched in frustration and I felt its grip on me slacken as it turned its attention to her.

With one final heave, River ripped me free. I collapsed into her and we both went crashing into the dirt.

She hugged me close. I heard her sobbing into my fur. "You're okay. You're alright. Please be alright."

She was so scared. I could feel her shaking.

I wanted to apologize. For everything. For anything. Nothing came out. My chest seized instead, spraying horrible black gunk from my mouth. It splattered all over River's fur, but she didn't seem to care.

"No, don't talk. Stay still."

Something was leaking from my eyes. Not tears—it was too thick and dark for that. Whatever it was poured out of me, my eyes, my mouth, my chest.

There was a horrible shout behind me—a human cry of pain.

Nora.

I tried to twist myself around to see her. A fresh bolt of agony ripped through me and I gasped. Spots swam in my eyes. They didn't go away. They grew and shifted until they were pressing ominously at the edge of my vision.

I was dimly aware of River speaking to me again. "Nora's okay. Don't worry about her. She's going to keep us safe. Just focus on me." She sounded so far away.

Nora was still alive, then. Of course she was. Nobody was tougher than her. If anyone had a chance…

They came for me. Despite it all, warmth bloomed in my heart at the thought.

Another scream—this one unmistakably from the Shadow—and then Nora was there, the relative calm of her barely-restrained panic balancing out River's terror.

"Is she…?"

"Alive. Yes. Nora, I'm—what is that?"

"I don't know. Don't touch it. We need to get help."

I didn't know what was happening. My every nerve was on fire, though the world felt dark and distant. Each breath was an effort. The cloud of emptiness growing at the edge of my thoughts was quiet and welcoming. So easy to sink into.

More pain jolted through me like lightning, though now it felt detached and far away. Like it belonged to someone else. I realized someone was carrying me. Opening my eyes felt like moving a mountain.

"Nora?"

"I'm here."

"You guys came after me?" My voice was raspy and weak.

She smiled sadly. "We'd follow you anywhere."

My strength failed and my head slumped against her chest. "You should've let me die. I'm not worth this."

A sort of furious, stubborn grief sparked in her voice. "No, Starheart. You're worth everything. And I'm not giving up on you that easily."

"I'm sorry I wasn't brave enough to stay."

"It's okay. It's okay, buddy. You were brave. You were the bravest anyone could be. You—hey, hold on, alright? Don't close your eyes. Starheart? Starheart!"

The last dams of resistance broke, and the darkness poured in. I let myself sink into it until there was no part of me left to feel.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Nora

Three days.

Three stupid days since Starheart went into the woods, and she still hadn't woken up.

I felt like I was losing my mind.

It made me want to chuck stuff at the walls. I actually did a couple times. The healers were not happy about that.

I didn't think any of them really liked me to begin with, but that kinda sealed the deal. I literally could not care less.

Starheart looked horrible. Totally, deathly still. Her breathing was so shallow, so slow, that every rise and fall of her chest terrified me.

There was something strange about Starheart. That was what they told us. Maybe not in those words, exactly—I didn't have a great memory for specifics—but it was definitely there. She wasn't like the other afflicted. They walked around.

They could speak, even if they said awful, creepy things and tried to bite you. Starheart wasn't there at all. Besides the slash in her chest, there supposedly wasn't anything wrong with her.

Yeah, that was rich. If she was so fine, why did she look two seconds away from being a ghost?

Her leg twitched.

I bolted out of my chair, my heart racing with hope. I searched her blank face for any sign of life.

My heart sank again when I realized she was only shivering.

I sighed and tugged a blanket up to her shoulders. Part of me was relieved that I didn't have to look at her bandages anymore. They were constantly stained black with the horrible, weird sludge that poured out of her cut. Nobody could tell us what it was. Nobody could tell us anything.

That made me want to throw things at the walls, too.

I was trying my hardest to be angry about all this. If I wasn't angry, I'd be sad, and if I let myself be sad…

I huffed and flopped back down. With nothing else to do, I examined my hands. My black nail polish was chipped and scuffed from my face-off with the Shadow. There was a bruise on my forearm from where it had hit me.

And that was it.

I didn't understand it. I had nothing over it. It could've ended me in a second. And yet, right when I thought I was done for, it backed off. Vanished.

I didn't have the time to think about what it meant. I'd spent the last three days in a miserable haze. I couldn't remember the last time I'd eaten, let alone been outside. All I did was watch her.

What if I left and she died? What if she woke up and I wasn't there? She needed me. They both did. It was my job.

Though I wasn't doing a great job at protecting River, what with her disappearing and all. She was barely around, maybe popping in once or twice a day to look at Starheart. I couldn't blame her for that—the healer's cabin was packed to the brim with the injured and afflicted. Not a real pleasant atmosphere.

I was more worried than anything—the few times I did see her, she was closed off and sad. At least—according to Jerico—the attacks had stopped. Ever since Starheart had been hurt, it was like everything froze.

I didn't want to think about that, either.

I scratched at my arm. It was a bad habit I probably should've broken years ago. One got worse when I was nervous. Over the past few days, I'd scratched so hard I drew blood.

"Goodness, Nora, when was the last time you saw the sun?" Jerico peered down at me. His moustache was unkempt.

"Don't need it," I grunted. "The sun is dumb."

"Now, now, there's no need to be like that." He set down his bag with a clink and leaned over Starheart's lifeless form. "Everyone needs the sun."

"It's the middle of the night, dude. I don't know what you want from me." I probably could've been a little more grateful. He'd been working nonstop, trying countless potions in an attempt to bring Starheart back. But I was exhausted, and I was upset, and I didn't want to deal with people trying to push me around.

"Regardless, the fresh air will do you good."

"I don't want to."

"It wasn't a suggestion, Nora," he said in his don't-argue-with-me voice. He didn't use it often.

With a noncommittal growl, I got up and stalked out the front door.

The fresh night air was a relief, like escaping an old, stuffy shoebox filled with vomit. My headache faded. I was never going to admit it to Jerico.

The front yard was quiet and still, except for the ancient wooden deck creaking as it took my weight. Even Seafern was gone, probably off on one of their night hunts. The darkness had driven all the prey animals out of the woods and right into town. I thought they secretly enjoyed it. At least this whole disaster was good for somebody.

I sat down next to the door. Break or no break, I still didn't want to go far.

Tiredness flooded me. It was times like these that I almost wanted to sleep, even if it was only to escape it all for a while. I could have, if I wanted to, but there was no chance in hell I'd leave Starheart alone that long.

It didn't matter. It was the kind of exhaustion that sleep couldn't fix. The sort of mental weariness that came from constant, hopeless fear. I'd felt it before, back when I'd still lived with my parents. It was the kind that creeps up behind you and whispers, it's never going to get better.

I knew how dangerous that line of thinking was. It was exactly the mentality that led Starheart to do what she did. But it wasn't easy to shake off. I'd learned throughout the years of dealing with it that there was no real fix except to hold on. So, I did.

At least out here nobody could see how upset I was. I didn't have to tough it out or hold anything back.

There was nothing in the world I hated more than crying in front of people. The last person I'd ever cried in front of was my dad when I was ten years old. I didn't even remember why. Probably some stupid little kid reason.

All I remembered was how he completely flipped his lid. His shouting was loud enough to shake the house.

Man up, he'd said. Boys don't cry.

Footsteps came down the path beyond the stairs. I wiped my eyes, trying to look like I hadn't totally lost it.

River peered around the corner. Her face brightened when she saw me. "Hello, friend."

I hugged my knees. "Hey."

Her happiness disappeared. The deck complained loudly as she padded over and sat down next to me. "What are you doing out here all alone?"

I picked at the edge of my glove. "Jerico finally kicked me out. You?"

She hesitated, guilt on her face. "I'm not good at hospitals," she admitted. "They smell too much like the lab." There was a faint wobble in the last few words.

Horrified, I realized I hadn't even considered that. I'd been too caught up in my own grief to put the pieces together. "Geez, man. I'm sorry."

"It's okay."

The silence was heavy. It was the first time we'd actually been alone together since it happened. I didn't really know what to say—our usual jokes didn't feel right. But I couldn't talk about Starheart. I didn't know how to, without losing my cool. In times like these, they needed me to be dependable more than ever.

"Are you alright?" River froze. "Sorry. Stupid question. You're—nobody really—what I, I meant was…" She squeezed her eyes shut, her face pained with frustration.

"How am I doing right now?" I finished for her.

She nodded.

River wasn't so great with spoken words. I couldn't really relate—I had so much to say about everything all the time and I didn't think I could physically stop myself if I tried. I could tell it bothered her, though, so I helped wherever I could. For the most part, I could guess what she was trying to say. It was our own little system. I was her voice when she needed it.

I swallowed hard. "I'm fine."

Her nose twitched. "That seems unlikely. Nobody is 'fine' with this. I am not fine. Neither are you."

Ugh. She was a living lie detector when it came to feelings. You really couldn't hide anything from a nose like that.

I shrugged casually. "I'm managing. It's okay. Don't worry about me." My stomach lurched. It was one of the last things Starheart had said.

River studied me for a second. "I need to show you something."

"Oh yeah? What's that?" I was glad to change the subject.

"Follow me." She got up and hopped down the stairs.

I scrambled to my feet. "It's not here? I don't want to go far from—I don't want to go far."

I'd been expecting a cool stick or a sparkly rock—the usual stuff I saw when she showed me things.

"It's not far at all. Promise. Follow?"

Reluctantly, I agreed.

She led me around the building, hugging the wall of the healer's cabin. We passed by the window we used for spying a couple of days ago. It felt like reflecting on something from lifetimes long since passed. I paused to look in at Starheart.

Still breathing. Still alive. Still unconscious.

River didn't stop, though, and I had to jog to catch up.

"Are we allowed to be back here?" I asked as we reached the back gate.

"Since when do you care about that?"

"I don't know." I scratched my arm again. "I don't wanna get kicked out or anything."

She looked at me funny, like she hadn't expected me to take her question seriously. "Well, I have permission, if that's what you're worried about."

She tugged on the string poking out of the wood and the gate swung open.

It was like a whole different world. The entire backyard was alive with bright, growing things. Dozens—hundreds—of flowers lined the path in every colour imaginable.

Twisty vines climbed up the fenceposts and the back walls of the cabin. Little fireflies danced above the sea of rainbow, drawn in by a quietly gurgling birdbath. Strings of fairy lights lining the fence cast an ethereal glow over an ancient weeping willow at the end of the mossy, cobbled path.

I was a little dumbfounded. "This has been here the whole time? Why?"

"I suppose the healers needed a hobby. Seeing death all day can't be good for the soul. Sometimes you need to watch something grow instead. It's like this one ancient soldier I read about who abandoned a war to become a gardener."

There she was. I hadn't realized how much I'd missed her, too.

"I guess this is where you've been hanging out, huh?" I nudged her.

She ducked her head sheepishly. "Plants make my head feel better."

I let her tug me by the sleeve farther down the path, until we reached a shaggy old tree. She lifted the leaves away to reveal a bench hiding next to the rough bark. The boards were saggy and gave the back of my leg splinters immediately, but I didn't complain like I usually would.

River worried a leaf between her claws as she sat next to me. "I thought that perhaps, just maybe, my special place could help you too."

I looked away. I'd hoped she was over trying to help me. "Riv, I told you already. I'm fine."

"Really?" she persisted. "Truly? There's no trace of fear of uncertainty within you? No doubt or regret?"

"Does it actually matter?"

"Of course it matters. You matter." Her voice was steady and firm.

I met her gaze. She half flinched, but to her credit, she didn't look away. Her nose was twitching and her eyebrows were furrowed. The corners of her mouth were downturned in the beginnings of a frown.

I could tell when she was being serious. And when she was serious, she could be ridiculously stubborn.

I kicked at the ground. An old leaf stuck itself to my shoe. "Maybe."

"Maybe?"

I blew out a breath and tilted my head back until it was resting against the tree's trunk. The stars glittered and winked at me through the branches. They seemed so cheerful. It made me kind of mad. Mad in a heavy, thick way that made my throat feel tight and my eyes burn.

Maybe I wasn't mad.

"I am sad," I finished. "But that doesn't make a difference, does it? Talking about how wrecked I feel isn't going to bring her back. It's only going to make things harder."

"For who?" she pressed.

I kicked at the leaf with my other foot. It was stuck fast. "Dunno. For everyone. For… you."

She made a small, squeaky sound. I was still figuring out what all her little fox noises meant. They all sounded the same to me. I supposed it was meant to be reassuring. "Nora, you've been protecting me the entire time we've known each other.

I am endlessly grateful for that, because I certainly do need it. I'll always need it. My fears are endless and vast, and you make them… well, less so, I suppose." She smiled sideways at me. "But you're not supposed to be strong all the time. You're supposed to be a person, and people aren't unbreakable. Sometimes things happen that are too much for one soul to bear alone.

So, please—let me help you for once. It's the least I can do."

I looked away again. My eyes fell on a small pond, hidden among the flowers. Small, orange shapes darted back and forth, nibbling at the water's surface—goldfish. Exactly like the little guys Starheart had back on earth. She always talked to me whenever she was changing their water—she said the chore was less boring with friends.

I saw her everywhere I looked. She was a ghost, haunting me before her time was even up.

"I miss her," I lamented. "And I'm scared she's never coming back. I'm scared I'll have to go the rest of my life trying to remember the way she sounded when she laughed.

I'm scared I'll never have to fix her stupid injuries again. Mostly, I'm scared that—" My throat closed up.

"It's okay," she said. "Nobody else will hear. It stays here, if you want it to."

"I killed her, River." Something warm and wet dripped onto my hand. My eyes were watering. "If I did better—if I was faster—she wouldn't be gone. I knew it was coming. I saw it. The signs were all there.

But I wasn't fast enough. I'm scared she'll die because of me." My gaze dropped to my now-blurry shoes. "Really. How many people am I gonna lose before I actually figure out how to save them?"

She shook her head sadly. "You can't save someone from an enemy you can't see."

"Then what am I even good for?"

It came out way harsher than I wanted it to. I was shaking from head to toe. I probably would've shouted it, if River wasn't so scared of loud noises.

The silence stretched for miles. River's white-tipped ears twitched back. Her tag caught the faint, glowing light.

"You can't fight their battles for them," she said slowly, "but that does not mean you're useless in the war. You can be a medic. A lookout. A leader. You can sit with someone on their very darkest days so they don't have to suffer the pain alone. Hold on to them when things become too much to bear. You are not powerless, Nora. Far from it. In fact, you are the one thing that makes the world bearable.

There has never been anyone quite like you, and I doubt there ever will be again. You're a light in the dark. I promise none of this is your fault."

She was breathing hard, like the words took something out of her.

"I don't know what to say," I managed.

What could I say? All the things that felt right came from a deep, terrifying place that I didn't think I could tell anyone about.

How I was so much more afraid so much more often than I let anyone know about.

The way I felt like a useless kid.

How I loved River more than a friend should, though not in a way I'd ever loved anyone. Except, of course, for Starheart, which would be enough of a mess without her comatose and half-dead.

"You don't have to say anything," she soothed. "Know that we'll be fine. No matter what happens. Because we have each other."

I wiped the tears off my face with the heel of my palm. "Geez, man. What would I ever do without you?"

"You'll never have to find out. I'll always be here for you." She leaned closer. I noticed—not for the first time—the way her violet eyes sparkled in the dim light.

My heart leapt into my throat. The long, wispy leaves were draped over her shoulders like her own personal halo. The way she was looking at me was rife with concern and love.

There were a million and a half reasons why I shouldn't tell her. It would be stupid. Impulsive.

Not now, when everything feels so bad.

What about Starheart?

I don't want to ruin everything. I don't want to lose you.

I'd always been an impulsive person.

I reached out and took her hand. She didn't pull away. Was I imagining it, or did her breath jump to match mine? Did her eyes just light up with a little spark of understanding?

Was I being completely insane?

"Can I tell you a secret?" I asked.

"Of course. As long as I can tell you one of mine."

My heart skipped again. "I think I—"

She shrieked directly in my ear and jumped off the bench. I flinched, confused and then horrified. Had I just made the worst mistake of my life? I didn't think I could've misinterpreted everything that badly.

"Nora!" she shouted, gesturing at the building madly. "I know what to do!"

The confusion came back. "What're you talking about?"

She grabbed my shoulders and shook me, a wildly hopeful look in her eyes. "I know how to save Starheart!"

Chapter Twenty-Six

???

I was floating through endless darkness.

The space was vast. My incorporeal limbs could go wherever they pleased. It was infinite—nothing surrounding me, nothing tethered me down. Yet it held the warmth and safety of a small, sheltered place.

A home, untouched by pain and grief. It was salvation. Love. A safe cove to hide in from the storms of the world outside.

I was hardly aware of any of it. My mind—and I did suspect I used to have one—was long gone. I was one with the darkness. At home in it. Like a leaf in the wind, it was part of me and I was part of it. I had no thoughts of my own. No feelings. I did not know who I was, or where I had come from. I simply was not there.

It was not always like that. In the beginning, there were voices. Sensations. Pains, even. Messages that pierced through the darkness straight into me, speaking to something buried within me so deeply that it hurt. I could never decipher what they meant, but I knew they were for me. Something was beyond.

Someone was beyond. There was still a part of me that could think, back then. The memory of what had happened hovered just beyond where I could reach, like trying desperately to reach for a dream you were never supposed to have. The more you tried to grab it, the farther it danced away.

Eventually, though, even that faded, and I was left with comforting silence. Maybe I could have returned, if I pushed my mind hard enough. It didn't feel worth the effort.

Why go back to pain, frightened voices, and terrifying sensations when the dark was so much like home? It was like being on the edge of a very deep sleep—knowing something was beyond, but feeling like the promise of rest and nothingness was far more alluring.

I wanted to stay there. I liked it, as much as a nonexistent being with no feelings could like anything.

And then something changed.

There was a distant sound. A ripple, really. One that shook my fragile consciousness enough to bring a part of me back. Only a small distortion, enough for me to feel faintly bothered by the disturbance before drifting off again.

There it was again. Irritated, I opened my eyes to the void.

Nothing.

Not that I could see, at least. My spine prickled with the feeling that I was no longer alone. The darkness seemed fuller somehow. Less safe.

Exhaustion tugged at me. I didn't know how long I'd been asleep for. Fatigue clung to me like cobwebs, making my eyelids feel heavy. Maybe I could ignore whatever had entered my space. Maybe it would leave me alone.

"Hey!"

I whipped around. There were two people behind me.

Only one of them was human. The other was a strange, fox-like creature. The girl was fierce-looking, with battle scars and a sharp, deadly blade.

She radiated confidence. The fox was the opposite—small, soft, and with a meek, more nervous energy.

Who were these people? Why were they here? How could I get them to leave me alone?

They both stared at me. I stared at them. I felt like a deer caught in the headlights—frozen and exposed. I wanted to run, but curiosity kept me rooted to the brand-new solid surface beneath my paws. How long had it been since I'd seen people? Had I ever seen people?"

The fox twitched her tail. "It's time to wake up."

The girl's eyes grew longing, and she reached for me. "Come home, buddy."

I stepped away from her. Her face fell immediately. "What are you doing here?" I asked. "Why did you wake me up?"

"What, you thought we'd leave you here? Fat chance. You're not getting rid of me that easily, dude." She crossed her arms stubbornly.

"I don't even know who you are!" I exclaimed. "I've never seen you before in my life!"

She looked at me like I had two heads. "What?"

The fox appeared next to me. Her eyes shifted between the two of us, her face taut as she worked something out. "I don't think she's joking, Nora. She doesn't remember."

The human—Nora? That name was so familiar—covered her mouth. "Oh, man. That's bad. Um. What do we do?"

"I haven't the foggiest."

"Didn't think she could forget us."

"She wouldn't. The Shadow made her brain squiggly."

They were talking about me like I wasn't there. It was unsettling at best. "Can someone please tell me what's going on?"

Nora took a step closer. My legs twitched, but I stayed in place. She had a kind aura. I didn't want to hurt her feelings. That would be horrible. Disgusting. Evil.

I frowned. That seemed a little excessive. Where did that come from?

She clamped a hand over my shoulder. "Starheart," she began seriously. "You really don't remember us? At all?"

Starheart.

The name hit me like a punch to the heart. In a sudden, fantastic, dizzying rush, it all came back to me. Nora. River. The Shadow. All of Fable's Reach. Everything—good and bad—that had led me to what had happened.

"River. Nora." My voice was hoarse from lack of use. "I remember you. I remember me."

Nora grinned at me. "There's my girl."

River nosed my arm. "I missed you."

I hugged her absentmindedly. "How are you here?"

"No time to explain." Nora cast an uneasy glance behind her. "We have to get out of here."

I hadn't missed them the way I should have. That was strange, wasn't it? Surely, I should be happy to see them, or worried for their safety. But I wasn't. I felt nothing. Empty where emotions should be. It wasn't personal—even my bad memories, the ones where I hurt Cammy, were completely void of feeling.

That probably would've scared me, under normal circumstances. But it was like someone had gone into my head and completely numbed whatever part of my brain was responsible for feelings. Maybe that was what the Shadow had meant, when it said I wouldn't have to be in pain anymore.

Maybe all feelings led to pain in the end. If I went back…

I could so clearly remember how much it hurt, before I got trapped here. How every minute, every breath, was stained with guilt. I couldn't go back to that. I wouldn't.

"I'm not going with you."

River pulled away from me, her eyebrows furrowed. "Why not?"

"I just can't," I said.

"Dude, if you stay here, you're gonna die," Nora said. "I don't think your body has all that much time left."

I stared at my paws. I didn't know how to tell them no. I didn't want to come home. Home was painful. Here, I didn't have to feel anything.

I'd always wished I could turn my feelings off. So what if I died, anyway? If it was anything like the peaceful nothingness I'd been experiencing up until now, it wasn't that bad at all.

They had to know I left on purpose, right?

"Please, Starheart," Nora begged. There was a quiet desperation on her face. "Come home. We can work everything out. I promise."

I backed away.

River whimpered and reached for me. Nora slumped. It should've broken my heart. Maybe it was a good thing I couldn't care.

"You need to leave," I said. "It's not safe for you here."

The ground started to shake.

It came on fast and hard. I nearly lost my balance. Nora grabbed onto River.

Three, thick, dark tendrils as broad as tree branches burst out of the ground next to each of us. They struck like snakes, winding their way around out legs, arms, and throats. Nora bashed at hers aggressively. It twitched and flinched but didn't let her go. River was more focused on trying to wiggle away, to no avail.

I didn't fight it. I let it drag me down.

It didn't stop at the ground. It pulled me deeper and deeper, through the lightless void, at speeds fast enough to rip at my fur and scream in my ears. It turned sharply at seemingly random intervals, dragging me up, left, right, down, and finally up again.

It spat me out in a space that looked completely identical to where I'd been before, with one key difference.

My friends were gone, and standing in their place was the Shadow.

It glared down at me. I stared right back. It leaned closer, its massive height completely overshadowing me. I was not afraid.

"How do you feel?" It asked.

That seemed like a funny question. I couldn't imagine it cared much about my mental health and wellbeing.

"Nothing," I answered truthfully. "I don't feel anything."

"That's what I thought. I told you that you wouldn't have to feel anything here."

I frowned. "I thought I was supposed to be dead by now. That was the deal."

It closed its eyes in annoyance. "Those annoying gnats that cling to you night and day ruined everything. Never fear, child. You will be gone soon, provided they don't interfere. I will take care of everything."

My ears flattened. "Please don't hurt them."

It leaned down right into my face. "You make things difficult."

I held my ground stubbornly. "Hurt them, and I won't ever listen to you again. Promise me."

It hissed. "Fine. I promise not to hurt your pathetic cronies. But you must promise me something yourself."

I flicked my tail. "Anything." Anything to make this stop.

Its blood-coloured eyes glittered. "You will not speak to them. You will not interact with them. You will not so much as look at them, if you see them again."

I drooped.

"Do you really want to hurt them more? You'd be doing them a favour. They're better off without you, after all."

"Okay. I won't talk to them," I promised reluctantly.

It tilted my chin up with one long, deadly claw, until we were seeing eye to eye. "Good fox," It purred. "Surely you won't betray me. After all, nobody really understands you but me. Certainly not those fools."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, they simply don't get you, do they? They don't know what it's like to be so dark. So evil. To have bloodstains on your conscience. Only I understand what that's like. Without me, you are no one. Nothing. Do you understand?"

"I understand," I said.

It vanished in a puff of smoke.

Was it right? Could my friends never truly understand? They'd never been bad people like I was. They'd always been good, kind folks. I always wanted to be like them.

Sometimes the realization that I ruined myself so young made me feel like crying. I'd have to live out the rest of my life as a broken person, waiting to die so I could finally forget.

Who could blame me for wanting to speed up the process?

Those feelings were distant now. A memory. A dream. But I'd do anything to keep from feeling them again.

I scanned the black, empty space. An idea sparked to life. If my body was asleep, then this was some sort of dream, right? Did this place work the same way?

I closed my eyes and thought of the first place that popped into my head. Willed it into existence. Tried to imagine every nook and crevice of the place, until I could practically smell it.

And then I could.

I opened my eyes. I was in an overwhelmingly colourful room. Every possible surface was covered in pictures, stickers, and trinkets. The carpet was cozy and warm against my paws. I was home, in my room back on earth.

It was a better place to wait around in than the void, at least. But the faces of my friends surrounding me on all sides didn't make it easy to forget about them.

They'll be safe, I told myself. The Shadow was terrifying and cruel, but some strange sense told me it wasn't a liar.

I wandered over to the window and peered out, expecting to see our side yard. I was instead met with the infinite black of the void desperate to get inside. It was like my house had been ripped from the real world and dropped in the middle of the ocean.

The only things missing were creepy, glowing fish and goblin sharks. I kinda thought those funny, knobbly sharks were sort of cute. Like how spiders, snakes, and worms were cute. Nora always said my idea of cuteness was 'ridiculously broken'.

Then again, she thought koalas were cute, and I couldn't stand them. Their hands were weird.

Okay, maybe I was proving her point.

There was a knock at the door. Curiosity overtook me. Who could that be?

It swung open before I could reach it, and two people burst in.

hah! Take that, you stupid door!" Nora cried. "That's what you get for giving me a splinter, you big wooden loser!"

River trotted over to me. "We've been looking for you everywhere. Are you alright? Did it hurt you?"

I ignored her.

She leaned closer. I leaned away.

Helplessly, she looked at Nora. "What did I do wrong?"

"Nothing." Nora squinted at me. "It's not you."

I met her eyes briefly, before looking away again. Ignoring them was hard. Maybe the hardest thing ever.

Nora walked around me so I was looking at her again. She was stubborn and determined, but not angry. Never angry. River hugged my arm, completely undeterred.

They gave me so many chances. It was confusing. I let people down. I was the worst. But it never bothered them.

I realized how much easier it was to tell how I felt about them with no emotions in the way. No doubt or fear kept me in denial. I had loved them, hadn't I? There was something there. Some uniquely special feeling I'd never felt before.

I'd do anything for them. I'd spent every minute of my life with them, if I could.

"Don't you want to come home, Starheart?" Nora asked. "I mean, you can't like it here, right? This place stinks. Literally."

"I don't want anything," I told her. "I can't feel anything. It makes no difference to me."

I realized what I'd done a second too late. It wasn't natural for me to ignore my friends. Answering them was pure habit.

River looked at me quizzically. "What do you mean you can't feel anything?"

I shrugged. "Like, nothing. No emotions. Can't want something if you can't feel for it. I'd rather stay here."

They exchanged worried glances.

River opened her mouth to say something else. She was cut off by the lowest growl I'd ever heard.

It was so deep that I felt it in my chest more than I heard it. A sensation so menacing it made all my fur stand on end. It felt like the world being cleaved apart.

The closet doors exploded off their hinges with terrifying force, shooting across the room and missing Nora by a hair before embedding themselves in the opposite wall. A massive, clawed hand bigger than my head emerged from the dark space beyond, scoring a huge rift into the carpet. The Shadow's awful black body followed, looming over us, big enough to swallow us all whole.

It snarled at me. "You broke the deal."

My friends were shouting. I wasn't listening. It was fascinating how the Shadow filled the entire space.

It was like it sucked all the light out of any room it was in. I'd been so blinded by fear before that I'd never really gotten to look at it closely. It was fuzzy around the edges, like the old, boxy T.V we had when I was little. I kind of wanted to touch it.

"Starheart, Come on! Nora nearly yanked my arm out of its socket.

I ran after her, mostly because River was shoving me from behind and I didn't think either of them would leave without me.

We fled out my bedroom door. My claws snagged painfully on the carpet, but I didn't have a chance to slow down. The Shadow was already exploding out of the doorway in a shower of paint flakes and drywall, completely undeterred by the too-small frame. Taking the stairs two at a time, I cleared the bottom five steps in a single leap.

Logically, I knew why we were running. The Shadow was dangerous. My friends didn't want to die. But I couldn't be afraid. I was as numb as always. It made no difference to me if I ran or stayed, died or lived. I probably wouldn't even feel anything if my friends got torn apart.

That was wrong. The old me would've been appalled to the point of nausea if she knew that. But the void's strange magic had muted everything in me. I didn't care either way. I felt like an observer in everyone else's terror.

This was exactly what I wanted, wasn't it? To stop feeling?

The front door was right at the bottom of the stairs. I expected to emerge into my street—or even the void—but the door opened into a long, cold familiar hallway lined with lockers.

Nobody had the time to hesitate. Furious roars and crashes sounded behind us, getting closer with every second. We kept running.

My friends fell in behind me, trusting me to know the way better than they did. I led us past the stairs and down the hall that led to the art room. I was holding back, and I knew River was too—our four paws lent us speed that Nora didn't have, and we weren't going to leave her.

We passed my locker—the only thing I had that wasn't outwardly covered in pictures, as I'd quickly learned that the other kids vandalized them with rude words and drawings in a matter of hours.

I hung a left at the art room, with my friends close enough behind me to brush my tail. The Shadow's massive weight kept it going, and it slid into the wall with a shattering of glass and cracking of cement. It screamed in fury, scrabbling to right itself, buying us a precious few extra seconds.

The emergency door at the end of the hall was mere paces ahead of us. I pushed my legs to run faster, twisting my body at the last second before impact to shoulder the heavy metal door open.

We stumbled out into the void. The door disappeared behind us in a flash of light.

"Stop," Nora called. "We're not getting anywhere out here."

"What do we do?" River panted. Her eyes were wild with fear.

Nora unsheathed her sword. "Back-to-back. It's not sneaking up on us if I can help it."

We obeyed. The void was deathly quiet. I scanned the black. There was nothing. No trace of the ultra-darkness that stood out like a sore thumb against everything else. No red eyes.

I knew that wasn't possible. This was my realm, and we were bound. It had as much control here as I did. Maybe more. It knew exactly where we were. It was biding its time, drawing out the inevitable fight to make my friend's fear more palatable.

I could smell that terror building myself. Hear it in their racing hearts.

Mine was as calm and still as ever. This was boring. I wanted to go back to sleep.

Then a cold and sudden sensation flared in my chest, like being hit with a snowball. I twitched a little.

River glanced over at me. "Are you alright?"

I tried to answer. Yes, I'm fine.

But nothing came out. My mouth was frozen. So was the rest of my body. I was locked in place, like a statue. My chest heaved wildly. My tail twitched, seemingly of its own accord.

I straightened up, my muscles flexing without my command. I wasn't doing anything—I wasn't trying to move at all—but somehow I was shaking out my fur and stretching out my paws one by one. I was like a puppet on a string, commanded by some unseen force. My body turned around to face my friends, and I felt my teeth bare threateningly.

Even beneath all my layers of numbness, I could tell something was terribly wrong.

Nora started towards me. "Dude? You good?"

River tugged her back by the hood. "Don't. Something's not right. I don't think that's her anymore."

Is she right? Something had a hold over me, and I had a feeling I knew what it was.

My mouth opened in a wide, threatening grin. "You're smarter than you look," my voice growled.

A new voice spoke almost at the same time, echoing inside my head the same way River and Nora's used to. You really thought you could run, didn't you?

What are you doing? I ignored its question. Let me go!

You broke the deal, the Shadow replied. I can do whatever I want. You are mine.

Nora—looking shaken but as fierce as ever—pointed her sword at me. "Let her go, you pathetic sack of sludge. I'll hack you to pieces before you can blink."

It threw back my head and laughed. A horribly malicious sound. "Perhaps I spoke too soon. All you'll end up doing is cutting your friend."

Dismay washed over her face. There was a slight tremor in her hands, but she didn't lower Dragonheart.

"We all know you're not going to hurt me, but fine. Keep up the ruse. It makes no difference to me."

Stop it! I cried. What do you want?

I want you dead.

"What do you want?" River asked bravely.

It sighed ever-sufferingly. "I couldn't care less about you. But you've been a thorn in my side since I first laid eyes on you. Especially that one." It pointed at Nora.

"Then why won't you leave us alone?"

It examined the back of my paw as if bored. "Your friend here deserves to hurt. For all eternity, ideally, though, alas, eternity does not exist. So, I want to play with her—make her suffer—before I steal her life. And you two fools? Well, there's nothing she cares about more."

Don't tell them this! I begged.

Oh, silence yourself already. Do you think I care about you enough to protect your pathetic secrets?

"But, really." It took a step closer. Dangerously close. With a single, casual claw, it pushed Nora's sword away. "You two? Of all the things to devote oneself to? She picks you? A human-made freak of nature and a girl so unlovable even her own father didn't want her?"

River looked wounded; Nora just looked mad.

"That's right." Its tone was smug. "I know these things. I can see right into your friend's mind. I know everything."

Shut Up! I shouted it loud enough that the Shadow froze.

"You dare speak to me that way?" it growled out loud. "You'll pay for that, you insolent mite."

You promised you wouldn't hurt them, I continued desperately. This counts as hurting. You can't talk to them like that.

That was before you broke your end of the bargain. It switched back to mindspeak. I am tired of you thinking you hold any power over me. Your selfishness deserves punishment. It's high time you realized that I can do whatever I want.

Before I could respond—before I could even think—my paw struck. Quick as a snake, it flashed through the air.

For a dim, numb second, I thought nothing had happened.

Then I felt something warm and wet, and I realized that my claws were covered in blood.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

For a moment, everything was frozen in time.

I registered it second by second, like flashes playing out before my eyes.

River's face, and the way it changed from confusion to wide-eyed horror.

The steady drip drip drip of blood onto the floor.

The sharp ring of metal as Dragonheart dropped from Nora's weakened grip.

The massive, gaping gash that was torn beneath her ribs.

Her legs shook, and she collapsed. River dove to catch her in time, holding her desperately, shouting her name loud enough to pierce the night.

For the first time since I'd arrived in this awful place, feelings broke through my numb fog.

It was all terror. A blind, sick, dizzying kind of terror like I'd never felt before.

Not her. Please not her.

I was still locked under the Shadow's grasp. All I could do was watch her life pour out of her like a small waterfall.

"River," Nora choked out. I'd never seen her so wide-eyed. "Help. Please."

"I don't know what to do!" River sobbed. Her fur was soaked red from the rapidly spreading pool of blood.

Look what you've done, the Shadow taunted. All you do is cause pain. It's cost you your life, and it's costing you your friend. You're heartless.

My fear sharpened into something red hot. My vision blurred with it.

No, I snarled back. This was you.

With a shocking burst of strength, I fought back.

It was taken off guard. I moved my arms. My tail was mine again. Only for a moment, and then it was gone, as stone cold and frozen as it was before.

But it was enough. Enough to tell me I was strong. Enough to light a fire in me.

I pushed back with my mind first, letting my rage fill the whole space. I used it like a battering ram, shoving the monster far enough away that I was in control again.

I scrambled away from my friends, trying to put as much distance between us as possible so my claws wouldn't do more harm.

The Shadow pounced, and our legs gave out. The body we were fighting for twitched and seized on the ground, flickering between the two of us.

I'll kill the other one, it taunted. I'll flay her alive, just to listen to her scream. I'll turn her pelt into a rug. Then I'll let her freeze to death without skin. I'll make you watch yourself do it.

I'll kill you first, I snapped back.

Well now, there's no need to be harsh, is there? Killing me would make you evil. Besides, I have a secret: I can't die.

At some point during the scuffle, our elbow hit the ground. Painful, but manageable. No worse than a stubbed toe. I wouldn't have even thought about it if the Shadow hadn't screamed like it was on fire.

The gears turned quickly. The pieces fell into place.

I knew what to do.

With a last burst of effort, I sank my teeth into my arm.

It took my breath away. Shockwaves of pain radiated up to my shoulder and down my spine where it boiled into nausea. Every nerve, every instinct shouted at me to let go, but I dug my teeth in deeper. The Shadow screamed again, loud enough to make my head pound. I felt its agony as clearly as my own. Tears were welling in my eyes. I could taste the metallic tang of my own blood.

And then it was gone. The Shadow lifted away from me like a raven into the night. I was free.

Whimpering in pain, I unhooked my teeth from my skin. I lay there for a moment, thoroughly exhausted, my chest heaving. I relished in the sight of my own paws, the knowledge that they were mine again filling me with relief. The ground was cool against my too-warm fur.

I was used to physical pain. Every mortal was. I knew how to handle it. But the Shadow? It had never had a body before. It didn't know how to take it.

I saw the red stains on my paws, and the panic came back in an overwhelming flash.

Nora. Nora was hurt. Nora was dying.

I was on my feet again before I could think.

The puddle of blood had tripled in size. I hadn't realized someone could have that much blood inside them, let alone survive losing it all.

Don't think about that. Don't you dare think about that.

Nora looked half asleep. She was slumped completely against River. One hand was clamped over the wound, but blood still flowed past it freely. I hated the way her heart sounded—it was far too fast and erratic.

My vision narrowed to a singular point. My paws were numb and tingling, like I'd been sitting on them too long.

River raised her head when I got close. A threatening growl crept out of her throat. I had no doubt she'd bite me.

"It's okay," I said weakly. "It's me. It's gone."

She looked up at me, glassy-eyed. For a minute I thought she wouldn't believe me. Then she nodded once. "Help me get her coat off. It's the only thing we can use."

I did, trying to ignore how her blood darkened my orange fur.

Don't think about it. Don't think about it, or you'll lose your mind.

I grabbed the bundled hoodie—still only halfway off, since she wouldn't move her arm—and pressed it against the cut.

Nora flinched, suddenly very awake. She tried to shove my arm away, but she was too weak to do anything. "Stop. That hurts."

"I have to. I'm sorry."

She gave me a blank look and slumped against River again. Sweat was beading on her forehead, and her breath was strange and raspy. The sound of her heart was slowing back down, and I didn't find it comforting in the slightest.

The world had ticked down to an achingly sluggish crawl—I had time to see it all, to see exactly what was coming, but I was starting to realize there wasn't a single thing I could do to stop it. Nora's hoodie—once a light heather grey—was already soaked through with scarlet.

I couldn't smell how River was feeling. My snout was clogged with the reek of iron.

"It's not stopping," I quavered. "What do I do? River, what do we do?"

She was staring at a fixed point far in the distance. She was gone, her mind in some far away place where the world wasn't about to shatter.

A yawning hole opened in my chest. This wasn't it. This couldn't be it. Not after everything we'd done. Not with everything still unsaid.

Nora was everything that mattered in the world. If she died, so did I. Even if my body survived and I left this horrible place, I'd never truly live again. Not without her.

I'd break all the stars and smash distant worlds to keep that from happening. But my powerless paws couldn't live up to my heart. I couldn't change a single thing. Love alone couldn't save a life.

I could only watch her slip away.

Change.

I'd changed things before, hadn't I? I'd grabbed the world with my paws and molded it into the shape I'd wanted—turning the void into my own home. Did I have the power to do something like that again?

"River!" My voice shivered with hope. "I think there might be something I can do. But I don't know if it'll work."

She looked down at Nora—still crumpled lifelessly against her—and then back up at me. Her face was so trusting. "It can't possibly make things worse."

I didn't have time to worry. I grabbed Nora's arm—her skin was so cold—and closed my eyes.

And I imagined.

I imagined her, whole and happy and alive.

I remembered the way she laughed, and how she sounded when she spoke my name.

I remembered the way she smelled when she wasn't bleeding or in pain.

I remembered how much I loved her.

And I willed her back. My tail trembled with concentration as I focused every single thought and every molecule of energy I had into bringing her home.

Please wake up.

Please be okay.

We still need you.

River grabbed my shoulder and shook it. "Starheart! Look!"

I opened my eyes.

The flow of blood slowed and then stopped. My heart leapt to my throat. Slowly, I peeled the stained hoodie away. River hovered next to me, wringing her paws.

Nora's shirt was still torn at the front where the Shadow's claws—my claws—had gutted her. But the skin beneath was whole and untouched. There wasn't even a scar to tell the story of what happened.

She still wasn't moving.

I held my breath. Even my heart was stalling in place.

Her eyes fluttered open. Her chest heaved in a sudden gasp. She sat up on her own, clutching her stomach where the gash used to be. She looked shaken beyond belief, but okay.

River and I stared at her in amazement.

"Jesus Christ, that hurt. I am seriously never doing that again," Nora said.

I tackled her.

"Hey, whoa, take it easy! Are you trying to kill me again?"

She didn't sound upset, but I still shuddered and pulled away.

She sucked in a breath. "Shoot. Sorry. That was a really stupid joke, wasn't it?"

I shook my head. "I'm the one who's sorry." I fiddled with my claws, my eyes stinging. "I almost—you almost—I'm really, really sorry."

She tugged both me and River into another hug. "Not your fault, man. That wasn't you."

For a moment, we all sat there, waiting for our hearts to slow down.

"Are you sure you're alright?" River asked. "I can still smell pain."

"That's mine," I said. "It's nothing serious."

My arm throbbed like crazy. I probably could've healed it if I wanted to, but I didn't want to risk the Shadow stealing my body again. As long as I was in at least some pain, I was safe. They were safe.

"Dude, I'm perfect," Nora said. "It's like nothing ever happened. Crazy flippin' weird, if you ask me. What even happened? How am I—ewww, is that my blood?"

"Yes," River replied, looking around. "And there's no time to explain how you're still alive, but I myself would quite like to know later. Starheart!"

I started. "What?"

"Whatever you did back there, do it again. I don't think we're safe here." She glanced around uneasily. "I don't like how it vanished. It makes me nervous."

"It's going to follow us no matter where we go," Nora pointed out. "At least out here we can see it coming."

"I'm not sure it works like that," I replied. "This world isn't based on logic. It's more feeling and memory. It's basically a dream, right? That's why I can manipulate it. Maybe we can go somewhere it can't follow."

They both looked at me.

"I mean… it's a guess," I said casually. It was easier than trying to explain how I knew these things, when I wasn't even sure myself.

"Not like there's anything else we can do," Nora said. "I say give it a go."

This time, instead of focusing on a place or a goal, I focused on safety.

The reliable safety of a group.

The calming safety of being around the people I loved.

The warm safety of home.

A place where nothing evil could touch me. Somewhere to rest, to live, to think. Somewhere that felt okay even when the world was burning down.

When I felt the ground change beneath me, I knew I'd done it.

We were back at the cabin. The living room was cozy and familiar around me, sharply contrasting the cold, empty void. The candles and lamps cast a gentle glow over everything.

River sniffed the air. "Here?"

I fiddled with the rug. "Nothing bad ever happens here. Not like back home."

My old room was stained with the memory of late-night breakdowns and silent pains. The cabin was somewhere that grief had never touched. Not successfully, at least. It was a good place.

"Then why don't you come back home? For real?" Nora pleaded. "We can forget all of this. Wouldn't that be nice?"

Forgetting was not something that could ever be done.

"I already told you, I don't feel anything anymore," I huffed.

"I don't know about that, Starheart," River said quietly. "You sure seemed to feel something back there."

I sighed to myself and got up to examine the bookshelf. You could tell which books were River's favourites from the claw marks in the wood. Claws had a habit of scraping up everything, even when you weren't really trying to. I guessed that wasn't something you ever really learned to avoid.

I had felt something. The fear of losing Nora was potent and bitter on my tongue. Some feelings couldn't be lost or hidden or buried, apparently.

But the danger was over now, and the numbness had settled back over me. I had no interest in going back to a world with nothing but pain in it. I needed to be left to myself, or next time I wouldn't be able to save my friends at all.

"You two need to leave," I said. "Right away. Now, if possible. This isn't your place. You're in danger."

"We're not leaving without you," Nora said.

I flicked my tail, frustrated. "I've already made up my mind. You won't change it."

She looked like she was going to say something else, but River rested a paw on her arm. Something on her face made Nora go quiet.

"Okay, Starheart." River sounded sad. "We won't make you do anything. You don't have to come with us if you don't want to. All I ask is that you let us sit with you for a minute. We only want to talk. Then we'll leave. For good."

I eyed her with suspicion. "Promise?"

"I promise."

I sighed, the fight draining out of me. They'd done so much for me. It was the least I could do to listen to what they had to say. Maybe it wouldn't be such a bad thing to have a proper goodbye, anyway. "Okay."

I planted myself right next to the shelf. The couch felt like a hundred journeys away. Too much for my weary paws. My friends joined me, their grief almost palpable.

River's nose twitched. I followed her gaze to the coffee table. Feathers was sitting atop a mismatched pile of books. She reached for the little chicken, snuggling it close. I watched her face fall as it turned grey and disappeared.

"Why do you like it here so much?" she asked. "It's so cold and lonely. Everything is backward."

I closed my eyes, imagining the blissful nothing I'd been lost in. How much I ached to go back to a place where I didn't need to think. "It's peaceful. I don't have to feel anything here. I don't have to remember what I've done. All the bad feelings can't touch me anymore. I'm… free."

Nora stared out into the dark hallway. "Maybe you can't feel anything bad, but you can't feel anything good, either. That's not living, Starheart."

"Maybe I wasn't meant to live in the first place. Have you thought about that? All I do is screw up." I picked at the rug.

"Of course you were," said River. "You existing was not a mistake."

"How can you know that for sure?"

"Because I believe you're good," she answered simply.

I stared at her incredulously. "How can you still think that? How can you possibly believe I'm worth anything after you've seen exactly what I'm capable of?"

It was maddening. I needed them to understand how bad I was. I needed them to be angry with me. "Stop trying to pretend all of this is okay! You can't keep acting like what I did wasn't wrong!"

Why couldn't they grasp this? Why was I the only one who actually felt like I deserved worse? I needed someone to look at me and see exactly how bad I used to be. I needed someone to look at my pain and think, yes, that's correct.

You should suffer like this. It's right. It's justified.

"Nobody ever said it was okay, buddy." Nora gave me a heavy look. "What you did was bad.

If you want me to be totally honest, it was pretty screwed up, actually. But I think you know that already. You don't need to be reminded."

"So why?" I pleaded. I knew I looked insane. Wide eyed, twitchy, and still splattered with blood, I looked every bit the monster I knew I was. My heart had split open at the seams, and she was finally seeing how ugly it was inside. I could feel it. "Why do you keep trying to help me? Why won't you let me go?"

"You don't understand," River said, her ears drooping to the sides. I wondered if she'd be any less upset if Feathers hadn't vanished.

"You're our friend, Starheart. Do you really think we'd let you go that easily? Are you really under the impression that you don't matter to us, even after we've risked our lives to come here? You're worth so much more than who you used to be. You must understand that."

She had a decent point. They were still here, even with the Shadow and Nora's near-death experience. I couldn't deny that somehow, for some reason, they did think I was worth risking it all for.

I wished I could see why. They saw something golden in me I couldn't find. All I saw in myself was empty grey wastelands. There was nothing alive worth saving.

It occurred to me that River didn't seem to think very highly of herself, either. Yet she was nowhere near as irritating as she seemed to think. Maybe we always shone brighter through someone else's eyes.

I shook that thought away. This was different. I was bad—evil—because I'd done bad things. I had actual evidence.

"How?" I finally asked. The shadows in the room seemed to stretch from comforting into lonely. "Give me one good reason why I'm worth this.

I need to understand why, before…" I couldn't die without knowing.

Nora's hand curled around my paw. She didn't look down. Her eyes were fixed on the opposite wall and her jaw was set hard. She looked stone-faced, but I could smell that she was trying not to cry.

"Because you are a good person, Starheart," she said, her voice hoarse. "Maybe you can't see that. Maybe you'll never see that.

But it's true. If you were a bad person, you wouldn't have hung around us like you did. You saved that bug the very first day you got here.

You stuck up for Max when no one else would. Heck, man, you even put up with me all this time. Even my parents couldn't manage that."

She smiled sadly. "I've been watching you for a long time, buddy. And I've only ever seen you do good."

"But that doesn't make it go away," I argued weakly. "I still hurt her. I still hurt everyone."

River flipped my other paw over and started tracing her little circles on it. "You're not looking at this the right way. You seek to erase it all. To forget. To undo something set in stone. That cannot happen, I'm afraid. Bones can't be unbroken. But they do heal. They can be fixed. It's never too late to make things right, if you're willing to try. The same goes for your broken bones, too."

"But why would I deserve to feel better?" I asked. "Why do I get to? What I did was unforgivable."

It didn't make sense to me that I should find any peace when the people I'd hurt were still suffering.

"You're a person too, buddy," Nora said. "You know? And sometimes people screw up. That's the way things are. You think we've never done anything scummy in our entire lives?"

River nodded. "I bit someone."

"I broke my brother's phone."

"Sometimes I'm grouchy when I'm hungry."

"Once, I stole a—"

"That's different," I insisted.

I was slouched down, staring at the clump of familiar orange fur I'd tugged from the carpet. Nora leaned down to look me in the eye. "Is it, though? People aren't perfect, Starheart. Nobody can go their entire life without hurting someone, intentional or not. Everyone's gonna screw up sooner or later. It's a part of existing."

Then maybe I don't want to exist.

"But we can make it right. We can learn from our mistakes and do better while we still have time. You can't do that by running away from them. You've gotta face it head on. I won't lie to you, man: it's gonna hurt.

Maybe worse than anything you've ever done. But it's the only way to make that guilt stop. This?" She waved a hand at the room around us. "This isn't it."

"Bad people don't care about being good," River murmured. "If you were as evil as you believed, you wouldn't care about making things right. You wouldn't care about other people's feelings.

You wouldn't care about anything. That's not you."

"Who you were is irrelevant," Nora said. "All that matters is what you do now, and who you decide you're going to be."

She rested a hand on my fuzzy cheek. I couldn't help but lean into it. Her hands were warm and safe, and my heart felt colder and emptier than an abandoned house.

"Who are you going to be, Starheart?" she asked me. "Because you don't strike me as the sort of person to give up on people. That includes yourself."

I stared at her for a moment, the air gone from my chest. For a few, glorious seconds, it seemed easy. Then the monster in my head blinked at me, smiling its horrible smile, and I knew it wouldn't go down without a fight.

I'd failed at this before to a tragic degree. What made her think I was remotely capable of trying again?

"I don't know if I can," I croaked. "I don't think I'm brave enough."

River nuzzled me. "You don't have to be. We'll be there to share the load."

I'd spent years running from myself, too overcome with guilt to even think about what I'd done. I'd never felt better. I'd assumed that nothing would fix it. That I'd be haunted for the rest of my life by the ghost of a person who'd never died. Of course I did—nobody would ever think that walking through fire would fix a burn. The idea still seemed absurd.

But the plain truth was that I trusted my friends more than I doubted myself. I'd walk through any fire if they told me it was the only way to fix things. Even if my fur crumbled to ash and the flesh melted from my bones, I'd do it.

As I sat there, wondering what in the world to do, the fog started to melt away. With it went any hope I had of remaining calm or steady in this place.

It was like my heart was trying to make up for everything it had missed. The tsunami of hope, helplessness, love, grief, hate, and fear would've swept me off my paws, had I been standing. I was too tired to sift through it all. I let myself drown in it, until one thought bubbled to the surface.

"I missed you both so much," I managed.

Their warmth was immediate.

"Not the same without you, dude." Nora punched me lightly.

"My heart aches when you're not around." River blinked at me hopefully. "Does this mean…?"

I was about to answer when the world shattered.

The picture in front of us froze and then cracked. White nothingness—a sharp contrast to the black void—poured in where tables and books and shed fur used to be. A deafening roar split the air. It sounded like a train was barrelling down on us.

"What's happening?" River cried, digging her claws into poor Nora's leg.

"I don't know!" Nora shouted back, unhooking River's paws from her skin. "Hold on to me. We don't want to get lost."

The sound roared louder and louder, until my ears were ringing. The cracks in the world yawned wider, until the white overtook what was left of the cabin. Every animal instinct I had cried and begged for me to escape, but the sound was everywhere.

It poured in from every direction. Covering my ears brought no relief. It was like it was inside my own head.

And then, just as quickly, it stopped.

The sudden silence was almost as painful. For a moment, I wondered if the sound was still going, and my ears had given out.

River whispered, "This is like white torture."

She was right. Everything was way too pristine and perfect, in the sense that there was nothing to be imperfect. A thousand kilometers of white surrounded us. Or maybe it was only meters. It was impossible to tell. There were no shapes to define anything.

I shivered. I'd had dreams like this. My worst nightmares didn't involve being chased by monsters or home invaders trying to murder me. They were strange and nonsensical. Shapes and colours that were so vast and incomprehensible to the mortal mind that you couldn't look at them without screaming.

Being forced to understand concepts you were never supposed to know, only to forget them upon waking. Strange places where no living being belonged, with nobody to save you.

Places like this.

"Where are we?" I asked.

"Don't ask me, buddy. This is your weird nightmare realm." Nora squinted into the distance. "Though I've got a bad feeling about this place. Worse than usual, I mean. We need to go."

"Go where?"

"Out. Home. Back to the real world."

"Oh." My heart sank. I'd wanted them to leave just a few minutes ago. Now I wasn't so sure. This place made my mouth go dry.

Could I live without seeing them again?

You're not going to live, the monster pointed out. That's the whole point of this place.

My tail drooped.

River yelped. She was staring at something behind me, trembling and wide eyed. Nora gasped and tugged River behind her.

Hot, stinking breath hit my neck. Every muscle tensed.

"Starheart?" Nora hissed.

"Yeah?"

"Get over here."

I turned around instead, facing the Shadow head on.

Had it always been this tall? It was harder to notice in the void and the pitch-black forest, but with nothing to hide its vast size, it seemed to swallow the whole world.

My blood went cold, freezing my limbs as it travelled through my icy veins. My courage evaporated like dew in the sun, gone with the numbing mist that protected me from terror. All I could do was whimper as a black fog crept across the white plain like blood through fabric.

Its tendrils grew, expanding until the three of us were encased in a black dome.

"You've betrayed me, you disgusting coward," it taunted. "Now I get to kill all three of you. Your friends are a bonus. You will suffer together in life and in death."

Nora rushed it, her sword reflecting the fury on her face. "You're not doing anything!"

Nonchalantly, it snatched her up with one arm. Dragonheart clattered to the ground dangerously close to River.

"This one is starting to annoy me," it growled. "Maybe I'll kill her first. The richness of your fear when I ripped her guts out was delicious. I'd love to taste it again."

"Let me go, you stupid piece of—" It clamped a tendril over her mouth.

River snarled. Her fur puffed up, doubling her size. Her sharp white teeth snapped at the Shadow right as a second tentacle swooped down to crack her on the skull. She crumpled into an unconscious heap.

Everything was falling apart before my eyes.

It's going to kill us all, I realized.

That's what you wanted, the beast whispered.

Not like this! Not with them!

It's won. It's over.

I don't want it to be over!

The realization hit me harder than a truck.

I didn't want it to end here.

I wanted to go back to Fable's Reach. I wanted to talk to my friends about everything that had ever happened to me. I wanted to do stupid things with them and forget this nightmare ever happened. I wanted to go home and see my mom again. I even wanted to see Cammy. I wanted to breathe in the spring sun and feel alive and carefree again in a way I hadn't since I was a little kid.

Maybe that would never happen. Maybe all of us—maybe I—truly was ruined for good. But I didn't want to give up on the chance that I wasn't.

I didn't want to give up on me.

"Please," I whispered too quietly for anyone to hear. "Please stop this. I want to go home. I want to wake up."

And, to my surprise, something happened.

The world faded out in the same way it had when I'd given myself up. My vision darkened and my hearing faded away. I let the darkness carry me, hoping it would take me to wherever I needed to go.

When my eyes fluttered open to a white ceiling and a world of pain, I knew I was back.

Every breath stabbed me in the heart. My head throbbed mercilessly. My stomach—

Oh no.

My guts twisted. I scrambled out of bed. My paw caught on the blanket and I thumped to the floor with a fresh bolt of agony through my chest so severe I could've cried out.

No sound came out. My stomach finally gave up, and I puked. Thick, black sludge poured out of my throat, so much that I thought it would never end. It burned my throat on the way out, ravaging me with a violence no sickness had inflicted on me before.

I watched, silent and horrified, as the puddle slithered away and out the door.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

It hurt so much.

Sick waves of pain radiated through me from my chest. My mouth tasted like I'd been chewing on a rotten corpse. A thick, stained bandage was wrapped around my ribs. My head spun so much I could barely see straight.

But I was alive.

My friends crushed me into a hug. I squeaked, not even caring about the jolt of pain. My tail thumped against the tangled sheets on the floor. It felt so wonderful to breathe.

I sniffed River's head. "Are you okay?"

"Fine," she replied, squeezing me tighter. "Everything's fine."

Both of them looked completely unhurt. The bloodstains were gone from our clothes and fur. Even Nora's shirt was untorn. It was like nothing had ever happened. Maybe it hadn't.

I remembered the black slime slithering out the door, and I shivered. Had that been inside me the whole time?

"Can you get up?" Nora asked me.

"I think so," I replied, and immediately fell into her.

She picked me up and set me gently back down onto my bed. I had a fistful of her sleeve grasped in my paw like a small, scared child. She didn't shake me off. I was grateful for that.

"Alright, alright, both of you away, let me see her." Hopper—the frog nurse from a few days ago—pushed them aside.

"What? Why? I don't want to," Nora protested.

River tried to dodge past him. He caught her easily.

"Let me do my job," he croaked. "You'll see your friend in a moment."

I watched—a little dismayed—as he shooed them away and drew a curtain around my bed. Then he turned to me and stared with his big, glassy frog eyes.

"How do you feel?"

"Uh… bad?"

"Fair enough."

Jerico ducked through the curtain. I winced. Even turning my head to look at him hurt.

"What are you doing here?"

He started pulling various colourful potions from his bag, setting them down among empty bottles on the nightstand. "Attempting to save your life. You scared us quite badly, you know.

I was certain we'd lose you. Be grateful your friends have such an alarming disregard for personal safety. I doubt you'd be here by now otherwise."

I wanted to ask him how they'd managed to find me in my own head, but it didn't feel like the time. "I'm sorry."

He waved it away. "Not your fault."

I wondered how much Nora and River actually told him about what happened.

He handed me a bottle that looked like it was filled with watermelon juice but smelled like week-old vomit. I gagged. "This smells horrible."

"It'll taste even worse. But it'll bring your strength back."

I downed it as quickly as I could and did my best not to throw up again. It was difficult. I shuddered with disgust, which made more pain rip through my heart.

I blinked up at Hopper. He had kind eyes. "What's wrong with me?"

He dipped his head, looking somber. "You were hurt pretty badly. You're in pain?"

I nodded.

"I need to check your wound." He pulled a pair of scissors out of his pocket.

Jerico rested a hand on my shoulder. "You may not want to look at this."

They were both acting so grim. It was really starting to freak me out. "I have to."

It wasn't like I could go the rest of my life without it. Better sooner rather than later.

The cold of the metal scissors seeped through my fur as the frog cut through the bandage. I tried not to move. I was worried that any twitch would make him start cutting through my skin instead. When he was finished, he peeled back the gauze.

It was so much worse than I thought.

A horrible, jagged pink scar stretched from my right shoulder to the bottom of my ribs on the opposite side. The fur was gone, leaving awful, rough edges. The wound was as thick as two of my fingers put together in some places. It was like I'd been torn in half and only barely put back together.

I stared at it in disbelief. This was as bad as Nora's scar. Maybe even worse. Looking at it made me want to shrivel up and die.

Somehow, Hopper looked even more taken aback. "It's not supposed to look like that. Yesterday it was an open wound."

Yesterday?

"How long has it been?" I asked.

"Four days." Jerico turned back to Hopper like he hadn't just dropped a bomb on me. "Do you suppose the injury was directly related to the Shadow's power? Perhaps she's healed because it no longer has a hold over her?"

My ears pricked with hope. Did that mean the weird link between us was severed? It would be amazing if all of that wasn't for nothing. Maybe it would leave, and it would stop hurting everyone to get to me—

I winced at a fresh sting. "Why does it hurt so much?"

Hopper put a hand over his slimy mouth. "That's expected. The pain should fade with time. Though, if you don't mind, I'm going to give you a proper inspection to insure you're alright."

He poked around at me for the next ten minutes, listening to my heart and lungs as well as making sure I could still use my arms. He even took a vial of my blood, which wasn't fun for me. He muttered under his breath the whole time, mostly using medical jargon I didn't understand. Then he hustled away and out through the curtain.

Jerico lingered a few minutes longer, digging through his bag for something. It turned out to be another potion, this one looking like rotten milk.

"For the pain," he said. "Though this is the only one you'll receive. It's highly addictive and dissolves the colon with overuse."

"Fun."

It didn't actually taste all that bad. Like slightly too old apple juice. Most importantly, the pains vanished immediately. My head felt lighter and clearer, too. I looked up again.

"Thanks."

He paused. "Ever welcome, my young friend. Don't forget that the world is better with you in it. I'm glad you're alright." He left.

Maybe he did know.

My friends chose that moment to burst in. My heart soared when I saw them.

"What're they thinking, anyway? I wouldn't get in the way. I'm great at staying calm. I'm the best at it. Ah! Starheart! Nora shouted, squeezing every ounce of breath from my lungs.

River clambered up on my other side, whining and licking my face.

I took it happily. I loved it. They were safe. I was safe. All the problems in the world felt lifetimes away. This was one thing the Shadow couldn't touch.

River's happy tail knocked over a lamp, plunging the space into darkness. Then it clobbered Nora in the spine.

She raised a hand to shield herself. "Oof—ack—hey—this is not a three-person bed!"

I chuckled. "I don't care. It was way too bright in here, anyway."

"Dude, are you okay?" Nora worried over me. "What did they do? Does it hurt? How do you—ohh, wow." She fell silent when she saw my scar. River looked dismayed.

The warmth drained out of me. I would have to get used to this.

Normally, I never minded scars. I always thought they were sort of awesome—a permanent trophy of a time you survived something painful. This felt different.

Looking at it felt wrong. Like I'd ruined myself in a way I could never fix. It reminded me of bad, bad things.

"It's okay," I said. "It's not that bad."

Nora half reached out and then hesitated. "Can I…?"

I nodded.

She touched it lightly. I shivered—her hands were freezing cold. It was a sensitive place—I was hyperaware of the faint breeze in the room from the way it brushed my exposed, furless skin. Would everywhere feel like that when I got back to my human body? I was so used to my fur acting like a warm orange blanket.

"Is it permanent?" River asked.

"I think so."

Nora sat back and gave me a sympathetic look. "You get used to it. After a while you won't really even see it."

It was nice of her, but I wasn't so sure she was right. I'd spent so long running away from everything I'd done that it seemed almost fitting to have a permanent, physical reminder. A sign to show the world how I looked inside.

I didn't want to talk about scars anymore. "How did you even get in my head? What was that?"

Nora grinned at me. "Magic." She grabbed a bottle off the nightstand and handed it to me.

The round, smooth shape was familiar in my paws. So was the sweet smell from the few drops that remained. I'd seen it before, in Jerico's shop.

"The dreamweaver," I breethd. The pieces clicked into place.

"It was all River's idea," Nora said, casting her an affectionate look. "I never would've thought of something like that."

River ducked her head bashfully. "Well, you helped. I don't know if I would've been brave enough without you."

"Aw, come on buddy. Have you met you? I bet you could do anything."

They seemed different, somehow. Like something had changed between them in the days I'd been gone that made them even closer and warmer than they'd been before. It made sense—hard times brought people together.

But it made me feel strange, too. Not in a good way. It reminded me of the time in kindergarten when my two best friends built a fort together and wouldn't let me in.

Grow up. You're not a little kid. Don't be selfish.

I frowned. That voice was still there. It was supposed to be gone.

"Starheart." I'd never heard my name so full of grief as when River spoke to me. "Why?"

A cold breeze blew through my heart. They both deserved the truth, but I wasn't sure how much I'd get out before I broke.

I fiddled with the edge of my blanket, trying to steady my thoughts. Trying to think of words that could possibly describe what it all felt like, without sounding insane or selfish or fragile.

"I couldn't see any other way," I admitted. "All of those bad feelings—all those memories—they were everywhere I looked. I couldn't forget any of it. Not that I really deserved to. That made it worse, too—knowing that I'd earned it. I couldn't exist knowing all the bad things I was capable of, and the bad things were everywhere. I never wanted to die. All I wanted was to stop being in pain."

Nora was scratching at her elbow. "Geez, man, why didn't you say something? We could've helped. Or, or tried to, at least."

My ears felt heavy. "I thought you'd hate me."

River tilted her head at me. "Why would you ever think that?"

I hesitated. There had never been much thought or reasoning behind it. It was just a sense. A fear. "Why wouldn't you? I did something awful."

"Would you hate us if we'd done something like that?"

I didn't really know how to answer that. Nothing in the world could make me hate them.

"We wouldn't be very good friends if we gave up on you that easy, would we?" Nora said. She was hugging her knees in a way that made her look unusually small.

I shrugged.

She didn't wait for me to say anything. Her voice grew gentle as she continued. "We care about you.

More than anything. I don't care if it's something as silly as a papercut or as serious as your life burning down. We want to know when you're in pain. We don't want you to suffer in silence."

"Do I really matter that much?" I half joked.

"More than you'll ever know," River said seriously.

"You don't have to be okay," Nora said. "Just… don't stay quiet. Please."

Closing my eyes, I nodded. "I promise."

Things were going to get better. It didn't feel like it, but I could see it. Somewhere far off into the distance, there was a world where I didn't feel this way anymore. Where I never thought about the things I'd done. A world where they never bothered me again. I'd be free. Finally at peace. I just had to hold on until that happened.

And sitting there with my friends by my side, alive after everything that happened, I thought that maybe I could actually do it.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Everything was white.

I was back in the void. The still air was icy cold. Every step echoed into infinity. I wasn't supposed to be here, was I? Something was wrong, but I couldn't quite remember how this had happened.

I looked down to find that my chest was whole and unblemished. That was nice. I definitely wouldn't miss my scar. But where had it gone?

That's not right, the rational part of my brain said. Scars don't vanish.

My paw set down in something wet and sticky. Surprised, I looked down. There was a puddle of red beneath my feet. The edges were drying a crusty brown. The reek of iron clogged my snout, choking me.

Horror flashed through my fur. I whirled around.

Nora was behind me. She was dead. Dead on the floor, torn nearly in two from wounds I'd inflicted. Her blood lay around her like a grim halo.

Crying out, I collapsed next to her, shaking her desperately, begging her to wake up. It was pointless. Her skin was cold. She'd been dead for a while.

My hackles rose with the distinct feeling of being watched. Someone knew I was here. Someone had their eyes on me.

I turned around and froze. The Shadow was standing behind me, maybe ten meters away. It didn't look the way it usually did. Instead of vast, inky clouds and glowing red eyes, there was only the dark, vague shape of a man with no face. It looked the way it used to, back on earth before I knew the voices in my head were real.

"What are you doing here?" I growled.

It started gliding closer.

I snapped my teeth. "Go away!"

It didn't listen.

I tried to run, but I realized with mounting horror that I was frozen in place. My paws were glued to the ground. I couldn't even twitch my whiskers.

It stopped a pace away, looming above me. The horrible energy radiating from it made me want to curl up in a terrified little ball. I could only watch as it lifted a clawed hand and slashed open my chest.

I would've screamed, but all that came out was a wet, agonizing cough. It was like a huge, bloody mouth had been torn into my white-furred chest.

It was smiling at me.

The Shadow wrapped its grisly claws around me and lifted me into the air, far above its head. Then it threw me with all its might towards the ground.

I fell slowly, like a feather. Slow enough that I watched the gore-stained ground come towards me and assumed that it wouldn't hurt.

I was wrong.

The moment my body touched the ground, the world exploded into agony. I felt each of my bones crack and then splinter. My arms were bent in a hundred different places.

The jagged bones in my legs scraped against the skin. My spine arced as I writhed and sobbed.

The Shadow simply watched.

***

I woke up.

My eyes snapped open. The familiar walls of the healer's cabin surrounded me, albeit now bathed in nighttime darkness. It was a dream. Nothing but a nightmare.

So why was I still frozen?

My body still ached with the pain of broken bones. I couldn't move a hair. Panic took over, and I fought against my invisible restraints with everything I had. It was hopeless.

My eyes wandered around the room. To the blurry medical posters on the walls. Past the shapes of the afflicted in their beds. They landed at the foot of my own bed, where strange movement was stirring.

All the shadows in the room were drifting together into a single, fixed point. They flowed and twisted together, growing at the same rate as my terror, until they formed the shape of my worst enemy.

The Shadow radiated glee as it leaned over me. The air around it was blurry, or maybe it was only my eyes. No sounds came out of my paralyzed, terrified throat. I squeezed my eyes shut, not wanting to see what came next.

The attack never came.

Reluctantly, I opened my eyes. It was gone. The air was as still and normal as if it had never even happened. I didn't believe it for a second. It was waiting somewhere, beneath the bed or in the closet or any of the many, many places a shadow could hide.

I realized with a sudden burst of hope that I could move again. I tore off the covers and bolted for the door. I had to warn everyone.

It wasn't bound to the woods anymore. It was here, and everyone was in danger—

I smacked directly into Nora with enough force that it nearly sent us both sprawling.

"Geez, Starheart, what's the rush? You got somewhere to be at two in the morning? Can I come?"

"We have to go!" I cried. "It's here! It's actually here!"

"What's here?" she asked, bewildered.

I was almost hysterical. "The Shadow! It was right there!"

I could sense my panic wearing off on her, but she didn't budge. "I was here the whole time, man. I would've seen it."

"It was standing right next to me! I couldn't even move!"

Understanding came over her. "Ohh. Have you never gotten sleep paralysis before?"

"Sleep what?" Now I was confused.

"Oh, you know. Waking up in the night frozen and seeing demons." She said it with a completely casual tone, like I was supposed to think anything about that sentence was normal.

"It's a thing. Something, uhh, psychological or whatever. I don't know. I'm not a scientist. Weirdly common, though. Used to happen to me, like, weekly.

I'm kinda glad I don't need to sleep anymore. It sucked."

My heart was still trying to escape my ribs. "So, nothing was actually here?"

"Nope."

I shivered. "That looked so real. I could smell it and everything."

"The first time is rough," she said sympathetically. "My advice? Don't open your eyes next time. Can't see stuff if you don't."

I nodded shakily.

She guided me back to my bed, where I sat with my tail curled over my back paws.

"I don't think I'll ever be able to sleep again," I muttered.

"That's fair." She hesitated. "Hold on a second. I'll be right back."

I didn't like her leaving. Real or not, the image of the Shadow creeping towards me in the dark wouldn't leave my head. I kept seeing it in closet doors and piles of sheets. It hadn't been all that long since it used to hover on the edge of my vision.

She quickly reappeared, handing me a small metal bowl full of water. I lapped at it gratefully. I'd quickly realized within hours of being here how difficult it was to drink water from cups with my snout. It was pleasantly surprising that she knew.

When I was done, I looked up at her again. "You're being very nice to me."

"Respectfully, your idea of how you should be treated is awful. You're getting exactly what someone like you deserves."

I snorted. "Okay. That's the most aggressive way I've ever been comforted."

She laughed. It made my heart flip-flop all over the place. "Oh yeah? Nobody's ever tried to punch the sad out of you?"

"Not yet. There's a first time for everything."

The ice in my veins was melting the longer I sat next to her. The darkness of the room felt less ominous than it had minutes before. The silence was comforting. The steady rhythm of a dozen hearts was little more than background noise. The good kind—one you'd feel unsettled without.

I stared down into the empty bowl for a while before speaking again. "I'm sorry."

Nora shook her head a little, like she'd been lost in thought. "Sorry? About what?"

I ran my claw along the rim of the bowl. It made an awful sound, so I quickly stopped again. "I hurt you. I can't stop thinking about it."

I saw it whenever I closed my eyes. Everything about the memory was so vivid, from the feeling of my claws tearing through vulnerable flesh to the smell of metal that wouldn't leave my nose. Her dead, blank eyes from my dream came back to me. I shuddered.

She spread her arms. "But I'm fine. See? Everything's good. I'm okay now."

"I guess, but I still hurt you. You were in pain. You could have died." I couldn't even stand to think about it. It made me sick. "That's not alright."

"You can't blame yourself for that," she insisted. "That was the Shadow. Not you."

I wasn't convinced.

She sighed. "Okay, look. If River had a gun, and I took it and shot someone—"

My head snapped up. "River has a gun?"

"What? No, it's a metaphor."

I wrinkled my snout. "River really doesn't strike me as the kind of person to have a gun in the first place."

"I just said, River doesn't have a—oh, whatever, fine, a stick. Say I took one of River's sticks and whacked someone over the head with it." She motioned like she was bonking me on the skull. "Whose fault would that be? Mine or hers?"

"…Yours?"

"Exactly. This is the same thing. The Shadow took your stick—your body—and used it without permission. You never would've done that on your own."

I let out a breath "I guess that makes sense."

She shifted closer. "Probably feels pretty weird to not blame yourself for something, huh? Old habits die hard. But we're good. I promise."

The tension melted out of my muscles. "Thanks."

"Of course, buddy."

"No, I mean it." I fiddled with my claws. "Thank you. For everything."

At some point during our conversation I'd leaned into her.

"Well, you know." She put an arm around me. "I think you're worth it."

It took me a second to remember how to breathe.

My head came to rest on her shoulder. She didn't move away. Just hugged me a little tighter.

The sound of her heart was a clear, steady rhythm. I'd listen to it forever, if I could. It made me less afraid, though a different, more fluttery nervousness took its place. I found myself strangely glad she couldn't hear mine.

What would she even think, if she knew how erratic it was being? It was normal—this didn't mean anything—but it would be very hard to explain.

My breath hitched in my throat as I met her gaze. Gosh, she was pretty. Had I ever noticed that before? The way the dim lamplight brought out tiny flecks of gold in her brown eyes?

"Hey, Starheart?"

I got a small taste of how River felt as the words jumbled up in my throat. "Yeah?"

"You gonna try sleeping again? You're gonna need to be awake for tomorrow."

I cringed at the reminder. I was in trouble. According to Jerico, the council was actually pretty serious about the ban on entering the woods. Now that I was awake, well, they wanted to question me.

I was not looking forward to tomorrow.

Now, though? That fear felt out of reach. Here in the dark, there was nobody but us. Me and a person who never made me feel like a monster. I wanted to stay here, resting my head on her and breathing in her scent until the sun burnt out.

Unfortunately, nothing could last forever.

"Yeah. I'm ready."

She got up. I tried to ignore how cold it made my fur feel.

A yawn pressed at the back of my throat. I really was tired. The cool sheets beneath me seemed very inviting. I'd never gotten sleep paralysis even once before this point. Surely it wouldn't happen twice in the same night.

Nora was hovering near my bed, watching me. She almost looked like she wanted to say something else.

I rubbed my eyes. "What?"

"Oh. Uh. Nothing. Um. Goodnight."

"Goodnight."

And with that, she was gone.

My head was full of clouds as I curled up under my blanket. It was like I'd swallowed a piece of sunshine, and it was glowing inside me. It warmed my chest and made my limbs feel light. Airy. Maybe I'd spent too long wallowing in grief, or maybe it was simply that powerful. Either way, I was dizzy with it.

For the first time in months, I fell asleep dreaming of happy things.

Chapter Thirty

If I had to sit here for a single second longer, I was going to explode.

I was not allowed to walk around. Hopper was convinced I'd reinjure myself, though I told him I felt fine. I'd been smiling through a fresh wave of pain at the time, but I thought I'd done a convincing job.

My friends did their best to entertain me. River gave me a drawing lesson—I wasn't too great at it, but she insisted on hanging up my lumpy Seafern drawing anyway. Nora let me borrow her old, cracked laptop to watch videos, but that got tedious after a few hours.

I was sitting on my bed, scanning the room around me. Some of the afflicted were awake, tugging at their restraints and hissing at the people coming to feed them. Others were asleep, looking oddly peaceful despite their zombie-like appearance. I thought they were dead at first. River had to reassure me that it was normal. She said that sometimes—when a guardian was sick or injured—they regained the need to sleep. Something to do with their bodies preserving energy.

My legs were aching they way they did back home when I was sitting down for too long. My fur was prickling with the room's heat. I missed being able to sweat.

Growling to myself, I got out of bed. I didn't care if the healers skinned me alive. I was done with this place.

"Where do you think you're going?"

I groaned internally. Hopper tapped his slimy foot, giving me a disapproving look. I thought it was disapproving, at least. Frogs weren't very expressive.

"I'm going outside," I said.

"You most certainly are not. Have you've forgotten your injuries so quickly?"

"It's been a month," I whined. "You can't expect me to sit still that long!"

"It's been twenty-four hours."

"That's basically the same thing."

He sighed. "Have you forgotten the council is coming this afternoon?"

I hadn't. It had been bugging me all morning, like ants crawling through my fur. I thought going for a walk would help me cope.

"Let her go, Hopper." River materialized on her super-silent paws. "Fresh air would do her good, would it not?"

He looked like he wanted to argue, but River looked at him pleadingly. "I'll go with her. We'll be back in time for the council. I promise."

"Fine." He licked his eyeball. "See to it that you will. And come back immediately if you're in pain."

River squeaked happily and dragged me out the door. My tail wagged the whole way.

"Gosh, I missed real air! The kind that doesn't smell like blood and sadness! Thanks for saving me!"

She smiled at me. "I thought you needed rescuing."

The morning was still damp with dew. The sun was peeking above the mountains. I never could sleep in late when something big was happening. It was like my body was nervous, even in sleep. It woke me up as soon as physically possible.

"Where's Nora?" I asked. I hadn't seen her since early that morning, when she'd given me her laptop and left. Now that I'd thought about it, she'd been acting sort of strange around me. Like, 'won't-look-you-in-the-eye' strange.

"She took Seafern to look at the forest. It's useful to have an eye from above." River weaved past a fire hydrant as we crossed the front lawn of a candy store.

My fur prickled. "River? Am I going to jail?"

She patted my arm reassuringly. "No. I don't think so. Seems a little silly, doesn't it? Jail is where we keep the villains. The ones who are too dangerous to live among us. You know, serial killers and horror movie monsters.

Never understood how people could bond with them, honestly. You don't belong there. The council knows that.

They're gonna… I don't know. Yell at you, perhaps? Oh, that's still not great, is it?"

The knowledge that there was a prison full of horror movie antagonists somewhere around here somehow didn't do much to calm me down.

"Nora's going to be there," River offered, giving me an uncertain look. "She's not afraid to keep Ira in check."

"That's good. I—" I was cut off by a stab of pain through my chest. I doubled over, whimpering.

River rushed over. My breath hissed through my teeth as I fought off waves of agony. My claws dug into the gravel beneath me. It went on for so long that I thought it might not end.

Finally, it eased. River's eyes were wide with worry. She looked like she'd seen a ghost.

"What was that? Are you alright? Are you dying? You might be dying. We should go back." She tried—unsuccessfully—to pull me back towards the healer's cabin.

"I'm fine, River." I tugged my arm from her grip as gently as I could. "That just… happens sometimes. When I'm feeling bad, usually. I'm alright."

"Oh." Her tail swept over the ground thoughtfully. "You mean when you're sad? Scared?"

"Yeah." I stopped walking. We'd reached a fountain some ways away from Balance, though still within view of the Claymation border. The water lapped peacefully at its stone edges. "Is that weird?"

I hadn't told Hopper about it. Partly because it would mean explaining how frequently I felt bad.

But I'm better now, right? We fixed the problem.

"Everything is weird around here," River replied. "I'm weird. You're weird. Foxes don't talk. I'd be more surprised if your Shadow scar didn't have some odd twist to it. Did you know there was a man a hundred years ago who was cursed to have everything he touched turn to donuts?"

I stared at her. "Donuts? Why?"

"A wish gone wrong. His wife was donuts, by the end."

"You'd think she'd get moldy."

"Oh, she did."

It sounded pretty awful to have a bunch of donuts for a wife. If I ever had a wife, I'd like her to be alive. And not edible. Knowing me, I'd probably get hungry and take a bite out of my donut-wife's arm. That led me to wonder what flavour donut-wife would be, and if she had sprinkles or not.

I hadn't had breakfast.

"It makes sense, though," River said. It took me a little too long to realize she wasn't talking about donuts anymore. "That your scar is connected to your emotional state, since the Shadow is, too."

I shook my head. "What?"

"You hadn't noticed?"

"Noticed what?"

She scratched her head. "Haven't you stopped to wonder why it always stopped attacking us when Nora showed up? Or when we were at the cabin in your scary vision realm? It never bothers us when you feel safe."

My jaw dropped. "How did I never—"

"Well, I might be wrong. Maybe it was a coincidence." I could tell she didn't believe that.

I sighed and sat down heavily on the edge of the fountain. The stone was smoother than it looked. It made my tail cold.

"I don't know what to do," I admitted. "All of that effort, and we're still exactly where we were before. Worse off, actually."

She smoothed the fur on my spine. "One crisis at a time, my friend. Let's try and get through today."

I nodded miserably. My chest prickled. An irritating pins-and-needles feeling, like when I sat on my tail too long. The pain was the least bothersome thing about it.

I sigh-growled. "I hate this thing, you know. It looks horrible."

River nodded silently, her face sympathetic.

"Scars don't usually bother me. Remember the time I fell off the roof?"

She smiled. "You were so proud of that scrape on your knee."

"Right. I thought it was so neat. But this?" I motioned at myself. " How am I ever supposed to stop thinking about all this when there's a permanent mark reminding me?"

She flicked an ear in acknowledgement, falling silent as she thought about what I was saying. A small, fuzzy bee bumbled past.

"You don't," she said simply.

"Oh."

"Hear me out." She rested her paw on my arm. "That's not the end of the story. I know that now it feels like your whole life is crashing down around you, and your pain is all you can really see. That's okay. It won't be like this forever.

You'll grow around the scars. Time will pass. Your life will get bigger.

And one day, you'll wake up and realize that while it is still there, you can still see it, it's not so overwhelming anymore. You'll be happy. You'll have weeks where you won't think about it at all. It won't go away, that's true. But it won't be everything forever. Someday there's going to be more than this."

My breath caught. I didn't say anything. Couldn't say anything.

She nosed me. "You're good. Don't forget that, Starheart."

I couldn't forget anything she said to me. Somehow the words that came out of her mouth were so much more interesting than anyone else's. I could listen to her talk about nothing for hours.

The idea of forever didn't seem so scary if she was there with me. Eternity sounded safe and warm, if she was there to hold my paw. She made my brain fuzzy and my heart happy. Was that what people meant when they said they liked someone?

I stamped that thought out immediately. River was my friend. That would be sort of wrong, wouldn't it?

Her head snapped up. The irrational part of me worried that she'd read my mind.

"Do you smell that?" she asked.

"What smell?" I sniffed the air. My lip curled.

Rot. Death. Fear.

"Starheart!" River squeaked.

It took a second or two of wildly looking around before I saw it.

Behind us, on the border of Claymation Capital—where it used to be, at least—was nothing. An infinite wall of black stretching as far as my eye could see.

And it was getting closer. Creeping towards us at a pace no faster than a toddler's first steps, but nonetheless much faster than I'd ever seen it move.

"That wasn't there before," I gasped. It was a stupid thing to say, but my numb brain was still struggling to catch up with what I was seeing.

A new, dreadful feeling rippled down my spine. I couldn't place what it was beyond the knowledge that something terrible was about to happen. A deep, instinctual fear from the deepest reaches of my gut. Some wild part of me knew, but I wasn't sure what it was. It screamed run! Go! Protect! Fight!

And then it came.

The earth shook beneath our paws. River grabbed my arm unsteadily. A dark fissure cracked in the ground between us, yawning open like a foul maw. I jumped over it to her side at the last second.

"What's happening?" she cried. Fear poured off her in waves.

Be brave, Starheart. She needs you. Nora isn't here to save anyone.

Before I could answer—or even try to—black sludge spewed from the fissure like vomit. With a rush of revulsion, I realized it was the same stuff that had been inside me.

The wave swept River off her paws. It dragged her, snarling and clawing, back towards the hole. Crying out, I ran after her.

Her claws hooked mine, but the thing's grip was ironclad. Her back half was already sucked beneath the earth.

She shouted something at me, but I couldn't hear it over the rumbling of the earth and the blood in my ears. Her ears were pinned flat against her skull and her eyes were white-rimmed with fear.

"I'm not letting you go!" I shouted.

My back paws strained against the earth. Whatever had her yanked hard, and I almost went tumbling in, too.

We're going to die here!

With a furious cry, I threw myself backward. My back hit the ground hard. The air whooshed from my lungs as River landed right on top of me. She was shaking like a leaf.

"Are you okay?" I cried, sitting up.

She only nodded. She was gripping my paw like her life depended on it.

A new rumble made me look up. Something was wrong with the clouds. They were jet black, when moments before the sky had been clear. They were creeping in from the mountains, slowly covering the whole sky and blotting out the sun.

Everywhere I looked, dark cracks were opening up in the ground. Distant shouts and screams of horror pierced the air.

You can't run from me forever, you know. The voice came from inside my head.

I felt the blood drain from my face. "We have to go. Now."

We only made it to the road before another black hole opened up and nearly swallowed us both. We only barely jumped aside.

"Where are we going?" River trembled. "Is—is anywhere even—any—" she growled to herself with frustration as the words failed to show themselves. "Is. Anywhere. Safe?"

I watched, horrified, as the slime grabbed a fleeing bunny and dragged it down into the depths of the earth. "I don't know. I don't know.

The healer's cabin, I think? Maybe Nora will be back. If she's not—" I couldn't bring myself to even think it. "—If she's not still out there."

I wanted to make sure she was okay. Whatever was happening, it would be easier to deal with together.

River didn't argue. We raced across the road, dodging puddles of goop and trying not to lose our footing on the shaking ground. We cut through a patch of trees, coming out on the other side in someone's backyard.

There was a kiddie pool and a small, plastic slide. Both were wrecked, mangled by some unseen thing I hoped against all hope we wouldn't have to meet.

Over the fence. Across another road. I stopped. I hadn't actually been here before. It was somewhere in Cartoon County, I knew, but—

"This way!" River turned right, past an overturned dumpster and a fast–food restaurant plastered with pictures of smiling dogs eating cheeseburgers.

Everywhere we went, people were panicking. Mothers clutched their children and sobbed. Animals yowled and cried. I saw a minotaur, rampaging with fear and spearing everything he could find on his massive horns.

I tripped over something. It sent me into a dangerous stumble and I nearly lost myself down a pit. I would have kept going, if I hadn't heard the cries. They froze me in my tracks.

It was a stroller, abandoned in the grass. My ankle throbbed where one of the metal legs had caught me.

There was a kid inside. A really small one. He was screaming with fear, his cheeks bright red and damp with tears.

All around us, the world was cracking apart. Lightning split the sky. River stopped and looked back at me questioningly. There wasn't any time for this.

But I couldn't bring myself to leave.

"Where's your mother?" I shouted, shielding my face from a gust of wind.

He sobbed, too delirious with fear to answer, if he was even old enough to talk. The ground right next to us exploded, showering us both with dirt.

Without another moment's hesitation, I grabbed him and kept running.

River nodded in understanding. Together we weaved through a clump of bushes, emerging on the other side in a graveyard. Beyond the graveyard was the healer's cabin.

But the graveyard was cracking apart. Headstones splintered and then disappeared as the earth swallowed them. We only had minutes—maybe seconds—before our only route was cut off.

River's fur spiked. "What do we do?"

"We run!"

"Are you insane? We'll die!"

"We'll die if we don't move!"

She took a step back. I sensed her resolve fading. She was about to back out.

I forced my ears up and tried to calm the fear-scents flowing from me. With my one free paw, I reached out to touch her.

"You can do this," I said. "I'll be here, too."

"I can't," she whimpered.

"Yes, you can. You're so much braver than you give yourself credit for."

She stared out at the dying, crumbling graveyard. A tremor rippled through her fur all the way down to her tail tip. A high-pitched scream from beyond the bushes made us both flinch.

Then she looked up at me, her eyes trusting. "Okay."

I guided her to walk ahead of me. We were clutching each other as tight as we could, both of us terrified of losing the other down one of the deep, dark holes. The earth moaned in pain. Flashes of light filled the sky. It was only midday, but the world was as dark as night.

The baby had his face buried in my chest. He was quiet now, but I sensed his fear. His little hands gripped clumps of my fur painfully tight. I didn't complain.

Step lightly, I willed myself. One fall would drag all three of us down.

The cracks—spreading in from the corners of the graveyard—were getting closer. Confused worms poked their pink heads out of the dirt, only to be sheared in half when the ground shifted again. The air stunk of terror and distant blood.

Everything was going fine until we were halfway across.

River stopped abruptly. I was about to urge her on, thinking she'd lost her nerve again, when she pointed down at a narrow crack right in front of us.

Something was moving inside it.

A hand poked out. For a single, insane second, I thought it was a zombie. Then it dragged the rest of its body out of the hole and smiled at us, and I realized we were face-to-face with an afflicted.

Abandoning all caution, we dodged under his arm and bolter for the other end of the graveyard. His yellowed nails scraped the fur on my back. He screamed in frustration, chasing after us.

"Why is it so fast?" River cried, leaping over a headstone. He burst right through it.

I was too breathless to answer. We pushed on, dodging cracks and barely escaping a falling tree. I made the brief mistake of looking over my shoulder. He was close enough that I could see the bloodshot veins in his bulging eyes.

Five more meters. A few more short steps, and we'd reach the gate. My lungs burned and ached. My legs were made of jelly, but they found the strength to push forward.

River made it through the gate first, stopping on the other side to wait for me. She shouted something, but I couldn't hear her.

Then something hit me in the back, and I realized all at once what she was trying to warn me about.

I went crashing to the ground. I managed to twist at the last second, hitting the ground on my back so I wouldn't crush the child. The afflicted loomed over me, grinning triumphantly. Drool dripped from his stained yellow teeth and landed on my snout.

"I found you." The Shadow's voice came out of his mouth. "You're mine. You've always been mine.

Every morsel of suffering in your bones belongs to me. It feeds me. I can never die, because your misery can never end." Its eyes shifted down to the squirming baby I was holding. "You've brought me a gift."

I bared my teeth. "You'd have to kill me before I let you touch him."

His eyes narrowed. "Very well." He raised his hand, the sharp glint of a knife piercing the dark.

The pain never came.

There was a loud thump. The afflicted reeled back. Three more in rapid succession, and then a swift kick to the chest. He lost his grip on the dirt and went tumbling like a broken doll back into his hole.

Nora watched it go, holding her sword backward from clubbing him in the head with its hilt. "Take that, you worthless sack of meat! Yeah, you're not so great! Loser! Ha Ha!

I scrambled to my paws. "Nora! " I gasped. "You're okay!"

"Yeah, dude, did you think they'd get me that easy? I was worried about you—oof!"

I hugged her. River joined me.

"Gosh, you really missed me, huh? It's nice to see you, too."

I never wanted to let go. In the midst of everything crashing down, we were okay. We were safe. The storm raging through the world may as well have been lightyears away.

This was home.

"Do you guys know what's happening?" Nora asked. "I mean, I was flying, and then—then the sky—okay, I'm sorry, I have to ask. Why does Starheart have a baby?"

I laughed despite everything. "It's a long story."

Seafern thundered over. Their great snout lowered until their hand was resting on mine. Their eyes were terribly serious as they nosed Nora towards the healer's cabin.

"Right. Yeah. Apocalypse. We should get inside." She glanced anxiously up at the sky.

The healer's cabin was, thankfully, in one piece, though the stairs were as creaky and splintery as ever. We burst through to door, only to be met with Hopper on the way out.

"Where have you three been? I've been losing my mind in here! You cannot scare an old man like that!"

"Have you seen what's happening?" I asked.

"Yes, there's a storm, is there? I heard the thunder." As if on cue, another clap sounded so loudly the floor shook.

"This isn't a normal storm! Have you even looked outside?" I gestured towards the window, realizing too late that the blinds were down.

"A storm is no excuse to—is that a baby?"

"That doesn't matter right now!" Nora was buzzing with nervous energy.

Hopper's eyes darkened. "I'm inclined to agree."

For the first time, I noticed the four people standing behind him. Ira, who had a furious look on his face, was holding Bubbles's bowl. The man of light—whose name I still didn't know—was silent beside him. Violaceous The Destroyer hovered behind them, muttering to itself and making a chair float, seemingly for no reason at all.

In all the chaos, I'd missed the meeting with the council.

"I can explain—" I tried to say.

Ira didn't let me finish. He pointed an old, bony finger at me. "You have disrespected us for the last time!"

"I didn't mean to, but—"

"I have it in good conscience to put you on community service for the next three years!"

I looked at my paws. He had every reason to be upset with me. If I hadn't arrived here in the first place, the sky wouldn't be falling. Rosaline wouldn't be gone.

"Would you listen to her, you old sack of bones?" Nora exclaimed.

I'd never seen anyone look as horrified and baffled as Ira did. He looked like he'd bitten into an olive thinking it was a grape. It almost would have been funny, if things weren't so bad.

"Something's happening," she continued, taking advantage of the room's stunned silence. "This isn't a normal storm. Whatever's happening out there is a million times more important than this. How about you put your pride aside for once and trust us?"

Without waiting for an answer, River opened the door. A violent gust of wind ripped through the room, tearing down paintings and stealing a nurse's hat. A new crack tore through the front lawn and swallowed up the flowerbeds.

Everyone stared in horror.

"See?" I couldn't keep the tremble from my voice.

Wordlessly, Ira stepped outside. The other council members followed. I handed the little boy off to the nearest nurse, assuming he'd be better off with them—I'd never even held a baby before, let alone cared for one. Then I joined everyone else outside.

Ira appeared to be frozen. He watched as the clouds swirled into a terrible vortex and the sound of splintering wood filled the air.

"No…" he whispered. "This can't be."

Violaceous crackled angrily.

Dark days have arrived, said Bubbles.

Boom!

A brilliant flash of light blinded me. The force of the blast sent me reeling backward, stumbling into someone. White hot shapes danced behind my eyelids.

By the time I gathered my bearings, we were surrounded.

Pale, rotting faces of the afflicted stared us down from every side. Still more crawled out of cracks all around us. It was a wall of menace. A barrier of death. Hisses rose from them in an ominous chorus.

It occurred to me that I didn't know how to fight.

River came to the same realization I did. "It's instinct."

I looked down at her. "What?"

She closed her eyes briefly, like it hurt to talk about. I knew it did. "That's how they trained us. You have claws. Teeth. Speed. Raw, wild instincts. Lose your humanity, and you can win."

I knew it by heart. I'd heard the lesson hundreds of times, repeated through every screen and speaker I owned. River hated it.

But me? I'd never been human to start with.

A fist struck me in the snout. My eyes watered immediately. The afflicted—a huge, beefy man covered head to toe in tattoos—lunged for me again. I dodged, coming up behind him.

His size slowed him down. I nipped him in the back, and he stumbled around in confusion before falling back in the hole.

I didn't have time to be proud of myself, because a new attacker threw herself at me without hesitation. She looked like a kindergarten teacher—greying hair pulled back into a tight bun—but she had a beak like a duck. It threw me off for a second, and she managed to bite down on my ear with that surprisingly sharp bill.

I shoved her away. She was nowhere near as strong as the last guy, and I knocked her to the ground with a single pounce. Growling, I kept her arms pinned so she couldn't hit me.

I wasn't going to kill her. There was always a chance—a slim ray of baseless optimism, really—that we could save the afflicted. Reverse the curse, somehow.

I wasn't about to throw that away. She deserved a second chance just as much as anyone.

So, I dragged her, kicking and spitting, back to the hole she'd crawled out of. I committed her face to memory before I threw her back, vowing that I'd find her when all this was over, so I could make sure she was okay.

"Look out!"

Someone grabbed me from behind. Claws dug into my sides. A grey snout poked into my peripheral vision. I thought it might be River, but scent quickly told me they were older, male, and more wolf than fox.

He wouldn't let me go. The harder I struggled, the tighter he squeezed, in a dangerous hug of death. His claws were boring into my ribs.

I can't breathe!

I got a brief moment of relief before he shoved me roughly to the ground. His full weight came slamming down on me, grinding my snout painfully into the dirt. Jaws snapped a hairs width away from my face

He was going to kill me.

Clang!

The flat of a sword blade knocked him out cold. Nora hauled him off me. I lay on the ground for a beat, trembling.

"I freakin' hate werewolves. Arrogant jerks. Hey! You okay?" She shook me worriedly.

I sat up, spitting out grit. "Fine. Thanks."

"Good." An afflicted tried to get close. Nora punched her in the face and kept talking to me like nothing happened. "Hang in there, okay? I think this is almost over."

She ran off to help River, throwing aside two people like they weighed nothing. Her sword sang through the air.

She really was a warrior.

The ground was muddy from pounding feet and bodies thumping to the ground. It was chaotic. Nobody stood still.

Fingernails tore at eyes. Punches landed in guts. Seafern's roars pierced the air, their lashing tail taking down five people in one swing. Maybe somebody more experienced could have figured out who was winning, but I could barely understand what was going on. I'd never been part of a real fight before, let alone a battle.

A boot came down hard on my tail. A little yipe escaped me. The thin, fragile bones ached miserably. I needed to move quickly, before I became someone else's target.

A terrible shout rang out. My head snapped up. It was a true cry of fear. I couldn't find where it came from for a minute—everyone around me seemed to have a reason to be afraid.

Then I saw it. Ira, Violaceous, Bubbles, and the man of light were huddled together, doing their best to defend themselves from the onslaught. Violaceous had a magical shield up.

But something was wrong.

Ira was wavering. Off balance. Dozens of hands were wrapped around his legs, each one working to drag him deeper and deeper into the hole. The purple cloud turned to help him, reaching out to pull him back.

There were too many. As I watched in horror, too far away to do anything but cry out, all four council members were sucked into the abyss below.

"No!"

I found my feet, scrambling to the other side of the lawn. I dodged flying hands and snapping teeth as I went, only skidding to a halt when I reached the spot where the ground had already closed up again. I dug at the dirt desperately.

"Starheart." Nora grabbed my arm. "They're gone, buddy. There's nothing you can do. I'm sorry."

I buried my face in my paws.

"We have to get inside," she urged. "There's too many of them."

She was right. When I looked up, all I saw were afflicted. There were ten of them for every one of us, and more were crawling out of the ground as we spoke.

"Where's River?" I asked.

"Right here." There was a small scratch across her snout, but she was alright.

The handful of nurses who'd joined us to fight were streaming back inside. The thunder cracked louder than I'd ever heard it, loud enough to rattle my bones and spike my fur. I looked up to see a split in the clouds almost identical to the ones in the ground. The split didn't reveal the blue sky that was hiding behind it—instead, it emitted a strange red light that cast a glow over all of us.

It almost looked like an eye.

The storm was still ramping up, the wind screaming past my ears and blowing away my voice. If the afflicted didn't kill us, the storm would.

My heart was breaking. Everything around us was crumbling. The place I'd come to love was tearing itself apart at the seams, and there wasn't a single thing I could do to stop it.

How much will even be left when this is over?

I didn't have time to worry about it, because we were already running. Dodging through the murderous crowd, leaping the earth's new jaws. I took the front steps of the healer's cabin in a single bound.

Hopper slammed the door shut behind me and threw the lock. It buckled with the force of a dozen bodies throwing themselves against it.

"You three!" He barked, pointing at us. "Get that empty bed and drag it against the door."

We did. Either it was much lighter than I thought or terror was lending me strength. We worked for the next ten minutes, piling various things against doors and windows in an effort to block out the storm.

The sounds only got louder. An endless howl echoed through the thick wooden walls. The shaking never stopped. I felt like a mouse clinging to a cardboard box in the middle of a tsunami.

When we were done, I collapsed in the middle of the floor. River joined me. She was shivering.

"What do we do now?" she asked.

Nora had something else on her mind. "Where's Jerico?"

Hopper froze. Something shifted across his face. It was a look that made me uneasy. A look that said something was wrong.

"Hopper?" She stepped closer. "What happened? Where is he?"

I didn't think frogs could sweat, but his damp green skin seemed to glisten even more than usual. His eyes sparked with grief as he lowered his gaze to the floor.

"I'm afraid…" he whispered. "I'm afraid he went looking for you when you missed the meeting. He never came back. I'm afraid he's gone."

Chapter Thirty-One

The wreckage was breathtaking.

Everywhere we looked was destruction. Fable's Reach was unrecognizable.

Whole houses had crumbled. Yards had been split apart by the fissures. Small fires crackled everywhere I looked. The sky was finally clear, but no amount of cheerful, blue skies could make up for the devastation that lay before us.

We'd spent the rest of the day and all the next night huddled inside, listening to the unearthly screams from outside the walls. It had been a silent, terrified vigil. People rarely spoke, except for the occasional cries of the baby I'd saved. Everyone had people they loved on the outside.

Children, parents, siblings. Friends, too. All we could do was hope they survived.

I couldn't stop worrying about Jerico. Seafern, too—they were way too big to stay inside with us. They were out there alone, fighting to survive the storm by themself. The idea of it was too much to bear.

It took a massive toll on Nora. She spent the whole ordeal next to the front wall, trying to listen for any sign the dragon was okay.

River and I tried to help, of course, but it was one of those situations that couldn't really be fixed. Sometimes you're just afraid. Sometimes things are just bad.

We stayed with her the whole time anyway.

At some point—without meaning to—I must have fallen asleep, because I woke up the next morning to River shaking me and telling me the storm was gone. Hopper had reluctantly agreed to let us go outside to assess the damage and look for survivors.

Survivors. The word was still making my stomach turn as I took it all in.

We were still in sight of the Healer's cabin, and I was already feeling hopeless. I sniffed the air, hoping for a trace of anything familiar.

Nothing. Only ash. Even the broken-down ice cream cart next to me smelled bitter and sad. A small fire licked at the corner of it.

River sidled up to me. "Smell anything but flame yet?"

I shook my head. I hadn't seen any people yet, either, which was worrying.

She glanced over her shoulder to Nora, who was lagging behind. She was poking at an old bike on the ground with a numb, distant look on her face.

I picked my way over, trying not to step in a mushy pile that might once have been a rat.

"Found anything?" I asked. A distraction couldn't hurt, right?

She shrugged, not looking up from the shredded bike tire. I'd never seen her look this lost before. It was worrying.

People sometimes asked me about which superpower I'd pick, if I could choose any. Maybe I would've picked shapeshifting a few weeks ago, but now I couldn't imagine a body I'd rather have.

I thought that maybe I'd like the power to take other people's pain. Even if it meant bearing it myself. I was already sad pretty often—what would be a bit more? Besides, nothing was worse than seeing a friend suffer and not knowing how to help.

River would probably tell me something about how that would backfire in the long run—maybe some lesson about how our struggles shape us, and the very foundations of our personhood would collapse if everything was perfect all the time. She would probably be right, admittedly, but right then all I wanted was to fix it all.

A sound echoed from above. I shivered. Was the storm coming back?

Nora didn't seem worried at all. She seemed almost hopeful. "Did you hear that?"

"Yeah. What is it?" I squinted up at the sky, but the inappropriately cheerful sun was too blinding.

Her face brightened for the first time in hours. "No way!"

River skidded to a halt. "Nora, that sounds like—"

"I know!"

A heartbeat after I'd guessed what was going on, a flash of green erupted from the clouds. An emerald bullet shooting down from the sky with the overexcited energy of a two-month-old puppy. Seafern let out a sky-shaking roar of happiness as they saw us.

"Fern!" Nora cried. "You're okay!"

They wrapped their wings around her in a giant, scaly hug. Their tail thumped against the ground, making all the little pebbles nearby jump. The rumbly whimpers that were coming out of them were heart-meltingly sweet.

They locked eyes with me, and before I knew it, they'd dragged me and River into the hug, too. The scales on their chest were so much softer than I'd expected. For a few seconds, everything was okay.

They let us go after a minute and started giving us a thorough examination, sniffing each of us from head to toe.

"It's okay, man," Nora told them. "Everyone's fine."

They look dizzy with relief.

Other than a faint limp, Seafern seemed alright, too. Through a weird game of charades that involved a lot of growling and claw pointing, we deciphered that they'd survived the storm by flying above the clouds.

It made me worry even more about Jerico. He didn't have wings to escape like that. We could only hope he'd found shelter like we did. Though, by the state of the buildings around us, that was seeming less and less likely.

The next street over was almost exactly the same as the first—wreckage, fire, and gloom. The only difference was strange, thick pillars of darkness. It was like small patches of the ground had been claimed by the Shadow. The same dark, impenetrable absence of all light like we'd seen in the forest was there, though only a few meters in width each time. They shot away up into the sky like dark beacons. It reminded me of a sweater I'd seen at the thrift store that had moth holes in it.

The Shadow was eating holes in the world.

I reached out to touch one. Nora grabbed my paw.

"Not worth the risk," she said. "You don't know what's in there."

Seafern growled. Their face was twisted into anger. Their teeth were bared in a snarl. For a second, I thought they were looking at me.

Then I heard it. Faint hissing, from down the street.

Six or seven afflicted had slipped out from a side path and were scanning the dirt road we shared. They kicked over baskets and looked behind rubble.

They were searching for something.

"Hide!" River hissed.

It snapped me back to my senses. The three of us ducked behind an overturned car. Seafern managed to squeeze their considerable bulk into an alley. Just in time, too. Another few heartbeats and they'd have noticed us.

I watched through the car's cracked window as the gang roved up the street, poking around as they went. My friends' hearts ticked faster the closer they got. I was trying my best to reassure myself silently.

All of them look human. They can't smell or hear us.

We have a dragon. We can escape if we need to.

Eventually, they passed us by. We let out a breath in unison.

It was the same story with each broken building we passed. Run, duck, hide. Avoid the shadow patches. Every single gang we passed was looking for something.

The Shadow was looking for something. It wasn't hard to guess what.

Occasionally, we found people who weren't taken. They were usually terrified—sometimes injured—but all were grateful to see us. After they realized we weren't out to hurt them, of course. One man went as far as to point a knife at us before we convinced him we were okay. We told them to head towards the healer's cabin, where the survivors were.

My mood was actually rising a little by the time we hit the edge of the forest. If this many people could survive the Shadow storm, surely Jerico had, too? Maybe we'd find him. Maybe he was waiting for us around the next bend.

Someone tugged on my arm.

"It looks like a fox," River said, holding out a rock to me. "It—it made me think of you."

It was a round, blobby-looking thing, but I could see what she meant. It had three distinct points that made me think of a snout and ears. I took the rock and sniffed it. It smelled like mud and dampness, but River's scent was already clinging to it. It made my tail wag.

"Can I keep it?" I asked. "I like it when I have things you found."

"Yes." She ducked her head bashfully. "Please do. You'll have a piece of me everywhere you go."

I hugged it to my chest. "That sounds really nice."

"Heyyyy, River," Nora said sweetly. It was a tone that definitely made me think she was up to something. "Do you mind running back over to that tree over there? I think I dropped my glove."

"Oh! Oh no!" Her nose twitched seriously. "I'll find it for you!"

She bounded away. Nora immediately crossed her arms at me.

"Don't think I didn't notice that you're wearing both your gloves," I said.

"Right. Yeah. I'll make this quick. She's probably gonna be back soon."

I chuckled. The way River was sniffing around near the tree was adorable. She looked so serious. "Isn't she cute sometimes?"

"Uh. Yeah. That's sorta what I was wondering about." She picked at a fingernail reluctantly.

Without thinking, I grabbed one of her hands to stop her. Why was she so destructive when she was nervous?

Wait, nervous? Why?

"Do you like her?" Nora asked me.

"Of course I do," I said. "She's my friend."

"Well, yeah, obviously, but I mean… y'know. As more than a friend." She kicked at a pebble.

"There's nothing better than friendship," I replied. I was playing dumb on purpose, of course, but there was a bit of truth to it. I'd always hated the phrase 'more than a friend' with a passion. I didn't like the implication that romantic relationships were somehow automatically and inherently superior to platonic ones.

"You know what I meant, Starheart."

I sighed and gave her a tired look. "Is this really the right time for this?"

It seemed unnecessary and frivolous compared to everything that was happening. Some silly maybe-crush was leagues below the destruction of the world on the importance scale.

"Maybe it is," she said. "We could all die in an hour. Is there really a right time for anything?"

I didn't know what to say to that.

"It's okay, buddy," she said sympathetically. "I'm not gonna tell her."

"I don't even know if she likes girls," I tried.

"Well, yeah, she's bi."

That was new information. "She is?"

"Of course. Honestly, dude, did you really think any of us were straight?"

"I guess not."

She gave me a teasing look. "Sooo… is that a yes?"

My stomach clenched. "I don't like her," I said. "She just makes me happy. Friends do that. I think about her a lot, sure, but doesn't everyone? Think about their friends, I mean?"

Nora studied me. "Sure, but—"

"I like being around her," I continued. "But kind of a lot, too. Like I wouldn't mind being trapped in an elevator with her for hours.

Or every day for the rest of my life. Actually, I sort of get disappointed when she's not around. Because she makes me feel… nice? Like my heart's panicking and trying to escape but sort of not in a bad way?"

I paused for breath. "But it's not like that. I'd know if it was like that."

Wouldn't I?

"Okay. Wow." Nora seemed taken aback. "First of all… yeah. Hate to break it to you dude, but I literally have never heard of anyone feeling that way about anyone and not liking them."

"Oh." I gave her a worried look. "Oh, no. Are you sure? Because that's kind of bad, isn't it? Scary? Oh, no…"

Something about calling whatever this was romantic felt horrible to me. It made my chest feel tight and my ears flick back. It radiated wrongness. The kind where you couldn't quite place why or where it had come from, but it was so unmistakably there that you couldn't ignore it.

That's not right! My mind shouted at me. You can't do that!

But Nora was right, wasn't she? That feeling was the textbook definition of what those feelings were like. I'd spent enough time researching to know, in my desperate quest to figure out whether or not I was aromantic.

So why does this feel so bad?

Nora must've seen how freaked out I looked, because she quickly hugged me.

"It's okay, dude," she said. "We'll figure this out. Everything's gonna be fine."

In that moment, surround by destruction, fear, and uncertainty, everything felt a very long way from 'fine'.

Oh, Nora, I thought, trying to keep my heart steady. How could I ever tell you that I feel the same way about you?

***

It was almost a relief, going back to searching the rubble. I spent the next long hour trying to figure out where we were as we wove through the streets. Everything was so… disfigured. River reassured me that it wouldn't be difficult to rebuild, considering how many folks around here had magic powers, but it was hard to wrap my head around.

It was when we finally turned down another familiar street when things went from bad to worse.

I recognized the cornfield that I'd appeared next to when first I arrived here. The crops were trampled and torn out of the ground. The scarecrow was missing. I hoped he was okay.

I probably would have smelled it, under the right circumstances. But my nose was clogged with the reek of ash and the wind was blowing at my back. I didn't even notice anything was wrong until Nora stuck an arm out to block me.

"What…?"

"Stay here," she said. Her voice was deadly serious.

My ears twitched back. "Why?"

"Just stay put, okay? I mean it. Both of you."

River and I exchanged apprehensive looks. Something about her tone was disturbing. Neither of us moved.

I watched her creep closer to the old windmill across the road. It was significantly more wrecked than the last time I'd seen it, but it was somehow still standing. She was making for a large, still lump in the long grass near the door. I couldn't make out what it was. Nora crouched over it, further blocking my view.

River whined.

The wind finally shifted. Nora's scent reached me, along with the smell of a stranger. A woman, though there was something wrong about her smell. Something off.

It hit me all in one sickening moment.

"Is she okay?" There was a part of me that hoped I was wrong.

Nora stood up again, letting out a shaky breath. She shook her head.

I took a step closer.

"You don't wanna see, man. Trust me." Her voice was thick.

I wavered. "I have to," I said finally.

She didn't try to stop me.

The tall grass tangled at my paws as I padded closer. The ground was soggy with rain.

The woman was relatively young—no older than thirty. Her hair was blond, and she was wearing a sundress. Her eyes were open, but it was clear to me that she was dead. There was a broken branch next to her head.

It wasn't hard to guess what happened. She was simply at the wrong place at the wrong time.

I'd never seen a dead person before. Even when my grandfather died, his casket was closed. It was strange to me how alive the woman looked. If it weren't for the distinct silence where her heartbeat should be, I would've thought she still breethd.

I noticed she was wearing makeup. Not much of it—just lipstick and mascara. For some reason, that was what made my eyes burn.

How long had she spent on it the morning she died? Did she enjoy it, or was it a necessary part of getting ready to her?

She was a real person, a few hours ago. A living soul with hobbies, frustrations, memories, and preferences.

And now she was nothing.

Nora joined me. Part of me expected an I told you so.

"Are you okay?" she asked instead.

I shook my head mutely.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

I shook my head again. If I talked, I'd cry, and I really didn't want to cry again.

"Do you want to go back?"

I nodded.

She guided me—one arm across my shoulders—back to River.

The fox was playing with Seafern in an effort to distract herself. Both of them grew solemn when we returned. The dragon dropped the slobbery stick they'd been holding.

Nobody said a word after that. The vibe shifted completely. Where we'd been tentatively hopeful, there was now only crushing grief.

My paws stung and ached with every step. All I wanted was to go home.

It seemed like that was exactly where we were going, though. Either by coincidence or our tired hearts leading us there, we were heading towards the cabin.

For the first time since we set out, fear of heading back there gripped me. If everything else around here was damaged at best and ruined at worse, what would our home look like? Would we even have a home?

What good is a home, growled out the beast, breaking its long silence, if you don't live long enough to miss it?

Stop that, I replied. I don't want to die anymore. That's not happening.

That isn't what I meant, fool. A few more days of this and you'll all be dead or possessed, whether you like it or not.

I hated that it was right.

We turned right. We were on our street, now. The path through the woods that led to the cabin was right up the dirt road.

But there was one small problem: the woods were all black.

I ran ahead without thinking, dodging shadow patches as I went. Someone called out to me. I didn't stop. I ducked under familiar awnings and leaped over potholes my paws had memorized. It was as easy as breathing, but nowhere close to as relaxing. Even the bugs were holding their breath.

And then I stumbled and collapsed with my knees, wheezing for the breath I'd lost.

Because before me, where the path leading home once stood, was now shrouded in black.

The buzzing in my ears was so loud I couldn't hear my own gasp. My claws curled around the gravel beneath me.

It was gone.

River's drawings. The scratch marks in the floor from our claws. The warm smells that hung in the air like a comforting, invisible blanket. All the sharp objects Nora jammed into the walls. The sensations of home echoed around me like a ghost.

I was dimly aware of my friends catching up to me and coming to the same awful, grim realization.

"It's just… gone."

"Where are we supposed to go?"

The Shadow had taken everything from us. First peace of mind, then freedom, then safety, our friend, and our home.

With a dreadful shiver, I knew what was coming next. The beast would undoubtedly come for River and Nora, and it would kill them. There was no way it would leave me a chance to save them. And when all that was done—when it was finally finished punishing me—it would come for me, too.

And there wasn't a single thing I could do to stop it.

All I could do was ache.

Caw.

I looked up.

The bird—that same stupid bird I felt like I hadn't seen in years—pecked at my paw. I couldn't find the strength to bat it away. It could do whatever it wanted. I was too tired to stop it.

Caw! It hopped in place, almost urgently. I ignored it.

Caw!

It jumped on my head and sank its beak into my ear, which was finally enough for me to pay attention to it. I shook my head. It fluttered away back into the dirt, where it looked up at me with importance.

Then, it spoke to me, though not in a way it ever had before. It was like a spark of idea had been planted in my mind from somewhere far away. A rushing flood of memory.

The witch, screaming her insults at me. Insults that suddenly seemed to carry veiled meaning.

The jet-black bird, following me with beady eyes.

Words that I should never have ignored.

The shadows seek the tormented.

As long as you feel pain, the darkness will spread.

The shadows seek you.

I bolted upright. "That's it."

River looked at me with an exhausted expression. "What's 'it'?"

"The darkness stops when the pain does," I said.

"Starheart, what are you talking about?" Nora's voice was raw with grief.

I turned to face them. A young sun was rising in my heart, bathing everything in a new, hopeful light. "I know what to do."

They exchanged looks.

I didn't give them a chance to ask. I just told them—brimming with brand new confidence—the truth.

"I need to go back into the woods."

Chapter Thirty-Two

Absolutely not," Nora said. "No way. We are not letting you do that."

River's face was clouded with the saddest look I'd ever seen. "I thought we were past that. I didn't think you still wanted to—you know—"

My guts twisted. "Not like that!" I said quickly. "I'm never doing that again. I am past that. I promise. I wouldn't lie about something like that."

I hoped they wouldn't point out that I'd sort of lied to them about being alright in order to do it in the first place. I hoped they could see I was dead serious now.

"This is different," I insisted. "I have a plan. But I have to go back."

Nora didn't look happy. "I don't know, man. How do you plan to not die in there? You're no more invincible than you were before. No offence."

Seafern growled at me. An sort of growl.

"I know it sounds crazy—" I began.

"You're right about that," Nora muttered.

I ignored her. "—But it's going to work. I know it will."

"How?" River asked, seeming a little more trusting. "What's changed?"

I looked away. "I've changed, remember? I'm not hurting anymore. If the Shadow is linked to my pain—and my pain is gone now—then it shouldn't have a hold over me. Right?"

I cringed internally, realizing I sounded a tad unsure at the end. If River noticed, she didn't say anything. She nodded thoughtfully. "That makes sense."

"Are you sure?" I detected a hint of rising anxiety in Nora's voice. " It's—it's kinda fast, you know? To feel better, I mean. Feels kinda… too easy? Are you sure nothing's still bugging you?"

The monster in my head almost never spoke to me anymore. The sting from my memories was practically nonexistent. I was sure I was okay. Besides, this was how it worked in stories. Things got better. You trusted people, they reassured you, and you stopped feeling awful.

I ignored the little doubtful worm in my mind and nodded. "I'm sure. Trust me. I can do this."

"Sorry, 'I'? You know we're coming with you, right?" Nora said.

I frowned. "This is my fight. I don't want you guys to get hurt. I'm going alone."

She snorted. "Yeah, right. There's no way we're letting you do that. I'm way more stubborn than you are. You're not winning this."

River flicked her tail. "All of us or none of us, Starheart. If we didn't stand by you in the world's darkest hour, we wouldn't be very good friends, would we?"

Friends.

I'd spent a long time alone in my room thinking about what that word meant. Lately, thinking more about what it meant to us. How deep could you get with another person before it crossed the boundary of friendship into something else entirely? Did that line even exist?

Maybe friendship was a million times bigger than anyone gave it credit for. Or maybe this was that 'universal feeling' I'd been missing.

Either way, if we all lived through this, I was going to tell them the truth.

I took a deep breath. "Okay. Together."

Seafern rumbled at us, looking upset. Their blue eyes took in the forest worriedly. They shook their head.

"If we're not back by tomorrow morning, leave. Get out of here. As far as you can." Nora stroked the dragon's nose one last time. "Okay? Take care of yourself."

They closed their eyes, like they were trying to savour the moment as much as possible. Part of me wondered if they'd even let us go. But they nodded, dipping their head so low it looked like a bow.

I could tell they were afraid.

Strangely, though? I wasn't. There was a weird calmness in my head. Not like the awful, dream-like fog I'd felt before going in the last time—it was more like a steadying surge of confidence I'd never felt before.

This was going to work. I could feel it in my bones. The woods were calling my name. It was a distant echo that had always been there. One I'd just now learned to hear.

You're ours.

Come home.

This is where you belong.

I took my last breaths of fresh, clean air. I reached out and took River's paw. She grabbed Nora's hand.

Together—after one final look at the bright blue sky—we stepped into the world of endless pain.

***

Nora led the chain, gripping her sword with one hand. We followed the familiar path off the main road. It was unsettling, seeing it shrouded in the dark.

I was in the back, which I would have objected to if I hadn't been afraid of making a sound. I didn't intend to use them as a shield. I was never the strong one, but it felt like I was the only one who could fix this. It was my duty.

After all, I was the one who'd caused this. As much as they denyed it, it was true.

It was easy to navigate through a place you knew like the back of your own paw, even if you couldn't see a thing in front of your face. The scents of us were clear to my snout even below the reek of rot. We'd been so ingrained into this part of the world that it would never truly fade.

The dark shadows of trees on either side of us fell away, leaving us in a vast, dark, open space. I never realized how big our clearing was until then. Crossing it felt daunting, like entering an abyss we might never escape.

As I followed my friends, I tried to make out anything I might be able to see. Even with my enhanced night vision, I only saw the vaguest shapes of trees. I had no idea how Nora was managing with her poor human eyes.

Thump. "Ow!"

Clearly, not very well.

"Are you alright?" River asked, her voice hushed. "What happened?"

"I… ugh. Walked into a wall."

"See, this is why one of us should lead. You don't have any whiskers. How are you supposed to tell if something is in front of your face with no whiskers?"

A wall? I thought.

We must have reached the cabin. I could smell faint traces of it under the ash and rot—apples, old wood, and happiness. But the smell was cold and empty, lacking the warmth it once had. I couldn't tell how broken down it was, but the chunks of wood in the grass I kept stubbing my paws on told me all I needed to know.

Something freezing cold yet uncomfortably warm washed over me. What if it was all wrecked? What if I'd finally and truly destroyed everything? I'd lost Jerico. I'd killed that lady. And now I'd destroyed the only home we had.

Pain ripped through my chest and I doubled over. I couldn't stop a whimper of pain from escaping. It was almost as bad as it was when I first got it.

Something cold and wet brushed the top of my head. River must've been sniffing me.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

I couldn't answer. I was trying not to throw up.

She understood, though. She nosed my cheek and pulled me closer. "You're okay. Everything's fine. Breathe through it, okay? Breathe through the pain and it'll pass."

It took a few moments, but the sharp stab faded. We continued on.

Once we re-entered the woods on the other end of the clearing, Nora finally let River lead. Between her whiskers, night vision, and sharp nose, she had a much lower chance of poking her eyeballs out on a branch.

My fur trembled in the deafening silence.

It was almost worse when the silence finally broke.

"Did you hear that?" I hissed.

"Come on, man, you know I can't hear any of this stuff," Nora complained. "You guys are the only ones who can hear a grasshopper breathe from ten miles away. I'm not gonna—oh, shoot, yeah, I hear it."

It was a gentle crackling sound. Like deliberate footsteps through the foliage. Whatever it was, was very, very close to us.

I squinted past River. My heart jumped when I saw it. There was an afflicted—some sort of grey, bipedal, winged canine. She was staring at us. Not moving an inch. I didn't even think she was breathing. It was like her entire body had been frozen.

"What the…" River started.

A faint, red glow sparked to life in her chest. The light was dim, but sudden enough to make me squint.

Another light. This one came to the opposite of her a few paces away. It lit up the face of a third afflicted—a short, balding man with a blank expression.

As we watched, dozens of other lights appeared. They formed two rows behind the first pair, stretching off into the distance in an unmistakable pathway. Nobody moved a hair.

"Well," said Nora. "I hate that."

"That's where we have to go," I said.

It knew we were here. It was waiting for us to get closer. It knew this was the end for one of us.

"You don't have to do this." I tried one more time. "You could wait here. I'll be fine."

Half of River's face was lit up by the glow. The other half was still shrouded in black. It made her look deathly serious. "Have you ever heard a story where the hero fights alone and wins?

Companionship is at the heart of triumph. All throughout the past year, you thought you were alone. You thought you were one creature against the world. That was never the case.

You've always had us, watching over every step you took even when you denyed with every fibre of your being that we were real. We will certainly not abandon you now. If we die, we die together."

Her words settled over my heart like shining armor. I held the hands of the people I loved more than anything in the world. The people I'd dreamed about from worlds away, never losing hope in the tiny spark of realness they carried.

That hope—that love they seemed to show me, even when we weren't face to face—was what carried me through the days where I wanted to give up and die. That was always real, even before they were.

I held their hands, and I walked with them into the unknown.

A triumphant hiss rose from the afflicted as we walked down the path, though they still didn't move. Not even their heads turned. Their dark choir followed us the whole way. It had a strange, grim rhythm to it that made my hackles stand on end.

It went on for an eternity. Every step I took made me feel sicker and sicker. How were there this many afflicted in the entire world?

Everyone's gone. Almost nobody is left.

Just when I thought it would never end, it did. The two lines came to an abrupt stop on either side of us. I sensed an open, wide space ahead free of trees. Some sort of clearing.

The lights went out behind us, pitching us into pure darkness once again. Nora let go of my paw. Surprised, I grabbed her sleeve before she walked away.

She pried my claws off gently. "It's okay. I want to make sure nothing's hiding in here. I won't go far."

Reluctantly, River and I did the same. The three of us split apart, circling the clearing from separate sides. I kept my ears turned towards their direction as I sniffed at a rotting tree.

My unease grew the longer we searched. This was where the afflicted wanted us to be. So, what's here?

I was about to call out to my friends when a cold wind blew through the clearing. The darkness lifted enough that I could see the two of them, standing all the way on the other end.

Grrrrr. An unsettled growl built in my chest.

It lashed out.

The Shadow's horrible red eyes appeared the same moment one of its tentacles shot out and grabbed Nora, horribly reminiscent of the way it had in my dreamscape. She was gone in an instant, before anyone could even shout.

I ran to River without hesitation. The darkness was winding around her, too, trying to find a good grip. She strained and fought, reaching for me like her life depended on it.

Our claws met in the briefest moment of resistance. I had her.

And then, as quickly as Nora, she was gone. Pulled away from me deep into the woods where I couldn't see her.

I was alone.

I whipped around, meeting the Shadow's red eyes with my own furious gaze. Its mouth was cracked open in a gleeful smile.

"It's so wonderful to see you again," it purred.

"Bring them back!" I snapped. "What are you doing to them?"

It reached out and stroked the fur on my head. "They're alive. For now. I couldn't let them bother us, could I? This is too important. Never fear—you'll see them again when they join you in the afterlife."

I tried to smack its hand away, but my arm passed right through it. It didn't move its talon from my head.

"Why are you here, child?" it growled, pointedly ignoring my attempt to hit it. "Giving up again so soon? Was that mark I left you not enough? You can't even die right. You're pathetic."

Shame rippled beneath my fur. I shoved it down, locking it in a deep, far away corner out of view. This wasn't the right time for that.

"I'm here to stop you," I said steadily. "It's over. You won't have me. You won't have my friends. And you won't have the world."

Silence. Its stare bored into me. I realized—with awful clarity—how easily it could snap my neck if it wanted to.

It burst out laughing. It threw its dark head back. The force of its breath rattled branches. The foggy darkness of its body shook with it. The unexpected reaction made me flinch.

"You?" it said once it regained its composure. "You plan to do anything useful? The little brat has grown a spine quite quickly, I see. Have you forgotten that I cannot die?"

I hadn't. "So you said. But I don't need to kill you, do I? I just need to banish you from this world for good."

It grinned at me. "And how, exactly, do you plan on doing that?"

I raised my tail confidently. "By telling you the truth. By showing you that you can't hurt me. I've changed. You can't haunt me anymore."

Its eyes narrowed. "We'll see about that."

What does that mean?

Before I had a chance to ask, the darkest part of its chest began to swirl. Its eyes dimmed a little. A crackling sound filled the air, like the static on an ancient T.V. The smoke that made up its body parted, and a person stepped out.

I froze.

"Oh. It's you." Cammy's voice dripped with venom. "What are you doing here?"

The words tangled in my throat. She was really, physically there. I could smell her and everything. I knew it had to be some sort of illusion—she didn't seem surprised to see me in fox form at all—but the sight of her was too overwhelming for it to register.

"You ruined my life," she said. "Why do you have to follow me around, too?"

Focus, Starheart. This is what you've been working towards.

I raised my chin, meeting her gaze. "I know. I'm sorry."

Cammy shuddered and then disappeared.

"She cried herself to sleep, you know," the Shadow said evenly. "Every night. For weeks. She still can't trust people. All because of you."

That made my stomach twist. I held fast. I didn't shake. I didn't cry.

"I'm stronger now," I said. "I know what I did. You won't break me with that."

Maybe I was imagining it, but I thought I saw the Shadow shrink back. Pain glittered through its red eyes before it shook its head and bared its teeth at me, as furious as ever.

"But did you know this?"

Flash! A scene appeared before my eyes. The abrupt rush of light was dizzying. Cammy and I were sitting on my bed. My fists were curled angrily. She looked worried.

"I hate her," I was saying.

"She's still your mother," Cammy said.

"I hate her," I repeated. "She's the worst. She's such an idiot, too."

"I don't know if she really deserves that," Cammy said meekly.

"Oh, she does. Trust me."

It disappeared. I stumbled back, shaking my head. I'd forgotten about that day. It was buried deep in my worst memories, waiting to be dislodged.

I remembered it so well. She hadn't even done anything wrong. My mother hadn't done anything wrong, and I'd said horrible things about her behind her back.

My resolve cracked. Keep it together. You're alright. That was one time. One incident.

An earth-shaking roar came out of the Shadow. "You do not have the Privilege to forget!"

Flash!

"What's wrong with her?" I asked Cammy, glaring at a girl singing along to music in the corner.

"Nothing. She's having fun."

"God, your friends are weird."

She was only having fun. She wasn't doing anything wrong.

I barely had time to breathe before another vision hit me.

Flash! A boy crying to his friend about the girl in the hall that made fun of his shirt.

Flash! Me knocking everything off Cammy's desk over some belief that she deserved it.

Flash! Bumping into someone on purpose, sending them stumbling with a wounded expression.

I gasped, clutching my head. The Shadow loomed over me. Its massive body had tripled in size. The smoke was beginning to swirl around us, picking up speed like a building storm. I was reeling from the onslaught. My grip on the earth felt weak.

The Shadow leaned closer. "With every life you've touched, you've brought nothing but despair and suffering into this world. You do not deserve happiness. You will never know peace."

It was so loud. "Please," I begged. "Please stop."

It howled with rage. The wind matched it. "You are a Waste. A scourge on the life of anyone good and true. An unlovable fountain of rot and misery."

Stop! I begged myself this time. Don't lose yourself again! Don't listen to it!

Flash! Me offering to watch over someone's art project, only to trip and break everything they worked so hard on.

"Even your pitiful attempts at doing good have caused nothing but heartache. You are a broken creation. A corrupted mistake, doomed to foster nothing but harm. The world would be a better place if you'd never been born at all."

My breath was ragged and shaky. My eyes blurred as I looked down at the dirt. The monster grabbed my snout roughly and wrenched my head up to look it in the eye.

"Too cruel to live, too cowardly to die," it taunted. Its voice rose a dozen octaves as its volatile calmness boiled over. you have Broken Things for the Last time!

Its claws dug into my face with sudden force. I twisted in pain, but couldn't get free. Lightning crackled through the rising storm.

you Unforgivable Lowlife! you Pathetic Excuse for A Being! I'll Tear the Life from your Soul to Spare the Innocent more Pain! I will Right the universe's Greatest Error!"

It's right.

Nothing could fix this, could it? I was born sick. I came into the world with a twisted soul. Everyone around me was poisoned by the lies I fed them.

Nobody ever thought I was good. I must've tricked them somehow.

Weakness passed over me in a wave, far stronger than anything that could be caused by emotion alone. The Shadow was draining me. Siphoning my life energy. It swelled in size, feeding off of it, while my knees grew weak and my chest rattled.

A black wave hit me with the force of a truck. The Shadow slammed me into a tree. My neck snapped back and my skull cracked against the rough bark. The air whooshed out of me. The taste of metal filled my mouth. I'd bitten my tongue.

I could see every single one of its teeth as it pinned me to the wood. It was mad with rage. I felt it in the way it crushed my ribs. The tendrils wrapped around my neck. I couldn't breathe.

I clawed at them desperately. My claws sank only into my own fur.

you will never be anything more than this! It roared.

It let me go a heartbeat before I passed out. I crumpled into a broken heap in the dirt. My body was crying with pain. My head swam with dizziness.

And my heart? It was the bleakest of all.

Nora was right. I wasn't ready. I failed everyone.

I had enough strength to think it before I closed my eyes and waited for the beast to take me.

Chapter Thirty-Three

River

I had no idea where I was.

Those vile shadow vines had deposited me carelessly in the middle of the forest with only my tired snout to rely on. Nora was not with me.

Explorers in ancient times relied on the stars to navigate at sea. The stars were not visible in this dark place, so that was not an option for me. All those months studying old, decaying nautical star charts had not paid off. I'd have to go by smell, even if I wasn't quite happy about it. I preferred more human methods of wayfinding.

I decided to try and find Nora first. Starheart was certainly in the most severe danger, but I would not be able to do much by my lonesome. Unfortunately, we'd been dragged in opposite directions and not a hint of her scent reached my nose. I couldn't tell which direction I'd come from, either, since I'd been jostled to the extreme.

Perhaps I'd wander, then, until I figured out where I was. Nora and I spent many a day out here, before it was taken by the Shadow. I knew it like the back of my paw. If I made out a familiar landmark in the gloom, I might be able to find my way back to the clearing.

I raised my wet black nose to the air as I went. My paws made an awful squelching noise in the mud while I walked. The Shadow had made a horrible mess of the place. The woods were never this damp and swampy when it belonged to Nora and I. At least there were no insects. I'd never grown accustom to the swarms of mosquitoes in the forest we'd lived in before I arrived in this dimension. They were a permanent terror.

Not that it would have bothered me at that moment. My stomach ached terribly, as it often did when I was afraid of something—usually when we went to the healer's or I had to talk to somebody on my own. Finding my friends alive, I knew, was the only thing that would ease it.

To prevent my fears from bubbling over into something truly hindering, I mentally recited one of my favourite passages about one of my favourite historical events:

The glistening was an incident that took place in 1932, in the very early days of Cartoons. Through means that are still unknown, the entirety of Fable's Reach was slowly covered in a relatively fast-moving crystal substance, which was later discovered to be a form of amethyst. This was the cause of several residents perishing to the curse, while several others gained mysterious powers. In this article I will—

Ssss.

I stopped. The sound was strange. Achingly familiar, yet impossible to place. Something that itched and scratched at the outer reaches of my mind, like an echo from another life.

Ssss.

It was something long and heavy slivering through the grass.

Snake? I wondered. I quickly shook the thought away. The only snakes we had around here were tiny garter snakes, and the sound of this thing was far too large to match. Unless it was an afflicted—there were one or two large snake guardians who lived in Fable's Reach. I'd never stopped to consider how dangerous they could become until that very moment.

The bushes directly ahead of me rustled. I tensed. This was no snake. It was a legged creature walking closer, making that same slithery-hiss sound all the while.

I bared my teeth. I derived no enjoyment from fighting, but I'd do what I must.

The creature burst out into the open, exploding my caution into shock.

The iguana's eyes were fixed on me. He walked on two legs, like I did. He was taller than me, though most people were—he wasn't a particularly notable height. It was his long tail that made the sound as it slithered through the brush. It occurred to me in one great flash of realization why that sound was so achingly familiar.

"Flick," I breethd. "How are you here? Did someone bond with you, too?"

His reptile eyes were even colder than usual. "You left us."

I shrank back. "I didn't mean to. I was brought here for a reason, you see, and it was entirely beyond my control—"

"You left us," he repeated. "You left us alone in the forest. All of us subjects. You left us when we needed you. The humans were never going to stop hunting us down. You knew that. And yet you left us behind to suffer in hiding, masking the shame of our mutilated bodies."

My ears drooped. It was true, in a way, though I had never thought of it that way before. I escaped the miserable life of a runaway experiment when I arrived here, but I'd left behind my former peers to do so.

"It wasn't my decision," I pleaded. "It just happened. I'm sorry. I'd have saved us all if I could."

"But you didn't." His face hardened. "You forgot us, River. You live the life of luxury day and night, never even thinking about how we still suffer. Doesn't that eat you alive?"

"I didn't—" I stopped when something caught my eye. A glint of metal. There was something fastened around Flick's wrist—a yellow plastic band, held together by a metal bolt. His equivalent of a designation tag, since he'd had no outer ear to fasten one to.

But that was wrong. It should never have been present. He'd sawed it off with a sharp stone mere days after we'd escaped. That band was long gone.

It clicked. "You're not real," I said.

His spines bristled. "What are you talking about? Never could understand how Blue always knew what you were—"

"This is inconsistent," I said quickly, not particularly wanting to discuss Blue when everything was already horrible. "You cut your armband off. I mean, yes, perhaps it's entirely possible someone bonded with an earlier version of you from before that happened, but then how would you know that we escaped? The timeline doesn't add up. Therefore, this isn't real."

I wasn't always good at observing things. Often, I was too caught up in my own thoughts to do so. But ever since I read about Leggy the Brave, the spider explorer who saved his crew simply because his many eyes noticed more, I wanted to get better at noticing things. It seemed to be working.

I looked Fake Flick in the eye. It felt like the sort of moment where I should, so I ignored the discomfort. "I left you.

That much is true. However, it's also true that I had no control over the situation. I know I would not have left you to suffer if I had the choice. That's what counts. I am not a bad person."

To my surprise—and delight—Flick vanished into a puff of black.

The Shadow was trying to distract us. Delay us long enough to finish doing whatever it was planning to Starheart. I was not going to let that happen.

I loped off into the dark, hoping it wasn't already too late.

***

I was not sure how long it was before I found anything notable. Perhaps it had been seconds. Maybe an hour. My fear was messing with my perception of time.

It was not a leisure sprint. I had many dozen scrapes, bruises, and dings before I came across the sound. My panic sharpened as time went on.

Every moment Starheart was alone with the Shadow, the more danger she was in. Of course I trusted her plan, but I did not trust that foul beast. We were supposed to be together.

I'd heard stories of siblings or close friends who could sense, in moments of danger, whether or not their loved one was still alive. I was certain, then, that it was a myth, because I didn't have the faintest idea whether or not either of my loved ones were alive and it scared me almost to sickness.

"I'm sorry…"

The sound carried through the trees. I knew that voice well. I shot towards it like a falling star.

I found Nora huddled against a tree, shivering. She'd closed her eyes, like she was frightened of whoever she'd seen. The anguish pouring off her was worrisome.

"'Sorry' doesn't change the past," an unfamiliar voice said. I jumped.

There was a man standing a few paces away. A young man, with messy hair and a rumpled sweater vest. He had the eyes of someone kind, though in the moment his face was cold with anger. Like Flick.

"I told you to be careful.” His voice had a wounded quality to it. “I told you this could happen. And you never listened. Look at where it left us. You ruined everything.”

"I'm sorry," Nora said again. "You said you weren't mad at me. You knew it wasn't my fault.”

"You know that's not true," he said bitterly. "You know that if you'd listened to me, you'd be okay. Everything would be okay. But it's not. Because you had to mess everything up."

She shivered again.

I nosed her urgently. "Nora! Look at me!"

She opened her eyes. "River?"

"Yes, it's me. Listen. This is important," I said. "This is a trick. Do not fall for it."

"Don't ignore me, Nora," the man said. He took a step forward. "Not after everything you put me through."

Her eyes flitted between us, like she wasn't sure who to listen to.

I held her hand. "The Shadow feeds off your regret. Your pain. It takes the truth and twists it, so you become the monster. Do not let it lie to you."

"Don't you dare forget me."

"You must forgive yourself," I continued. I hoped my voice could drown him out. "Whatever happened with him, you mustn't let it break you. That's what it wants. That's what it needs."

She gritted her teeth. I could see her fighting with herself silently.

"You always were selfish," he said. The man was right next to us, now.

I squeezed her hand. I'm with you.

"No." The confidence flooded back into her. "I'm not."

She paused, looking down at me. I nodded encouragingly.

"Maybe I should have listened to you," she told him. He froze, his face unreadable. "Maybe things would have turned out differently.

But I couldn't have lived like that. You know as well as I do that it was a risk I had to take. What happened wasn't my fault.”

The man's form flickered, but he didn't disappear.

I sensed Nora's resolve growing as she went on. "River's right. This isn't you. The version of you I knew was kind, good, and understanding. You never hated me. I don't need your lies."

With an inhuman snarl, he disappeared.

The tenseness drained from her muscles like snowmelt. She was staring at the patch of empty air where he'd been like she expected him to pop back out of the dirt.

"Who was that?" I asked, curiosity winning over tact.

Her eyes clouded over with distant memories. "I'll tell you some other time. It's a really, really long story."

An eerie roar split the air somewhere off in the distance, a roar so full of rage and hate that it made all my fur stand on end and stirred something deeply primal in my heart. We both knew in an instant which beast's throat it echoed from.

"Starheart." Nora gripped my arm.

"She's in danger." I was trying so hard to maintain my courage. "She needs us."

Nora nodded assuredly. The bravery I was used to seeing on her was back, completely stamping out any trace of the crushing self-doubt she'd worn moments before. It warmed my heart and chased back my terror.

If we were all going to die today, there was nobody I'd rather perish beside.

Hand in paw, we charged together towards the beast of nightmares and a soul that hung in the balance.

Chapter Thirty-Four

Starheart

The world had stuttered to a halt.

The familiar nothing was calling me home. The Shadow's taunts were distant. Even the storm seemed calm and far away.

I was not afraid.

I'd always wondered what dying felt like. The last time this happened, it had been violent and painful. I'd been torn open without remorse.

This was softer. Gentler.

It was falling asleep after a long day, feeling the great expanse of emptiness tugging you home.

It was losing yourself in your favourite stories after a hard week, your soul melting away until there was nothing left but fiction before you.

It was going under anesthesia, feeling your senses dropping away one by one until only your ears were left, and then losing those, too. Knowing the world would keep turning even when you left it.

It was coming home.

The touch of skin against my paw fluttered the shadows away. I opened my eyes, barely finding the strength to keep them that way.

"It's okay, Star." Nora's voice was strangely clear despite the storm raging around us. "We're here."

"I'm sorry." My voice was as fragile as ice. It cracked with every breath, sending out spiderwebs of damage into everything around it. "I thought I could do it. I thought I could fix everything. I-I thought I could make it go away."

"No," River said fiercely. "You were right, my friend. If you don't face the dark, it never stops."

"I can't. I've never been strong enough."

"You don't have to be, remember?" Nora said. "You've got us."

A scream of fury in my other ear as a shape leaned over me. you will never be anything more than this!

"We want to tell you a story." River leaned closer. "One you've never heard before."

you Parasite! you Leech!"

Nora squeezed my paw tighter. "It's a good story. Maybe one everyone needs to hear from time to time."

you are Suffering itself!"

"It's about good people. And bad ones, too. Though the two groups are not clearly defined. Perhaps they never were."

your breath is A Waste in your lungs! give up!

"It's about someone who was lost in the wild. Someone who strayed off the path one day and never really forgot it. Even when she found her way home, her heart was still wandering."

leave it all behind! Existence is not worth the Suffering!"

"But that wandering soul found friends, didn't she? Friends who didn't mind the thorn scratches. Friends who took no notice of that heavy, lost heart.

They loved her, even if she never quite believed them. They thought she was good, even though she had made others bleed."

sins are never Forgiven! you are Stained! you are Ruined!"

"Because people are wild, huh? They're selfless. They're greedy. They're so kind. They're the cruelest folks you've ever met. But nobody is ever really one thing.

Nobody is inherently good or unchangeably bad. We all wake up each day and decide who we want to be. Some decide to be hard and closed off. Some want to be vulnerable and sweet, even if it means being unprotected.

And some choose to change paths, to take off that armor of thorns in exchange for a heart of gold. They own the pains they've caused. And that's really damn hard."

your Heart is Rotten beyond Repair! there is no hope!"

"You made that choice, Starheart. You made the hardest choice of all. Now it's time for you to make yet another. Who are you? Who do you want to be?"

they'll never Forgive you! they'll never love you!

"It's not too late. It's never too late. You can be happy."

it's over!"

"You can be good."

end it all! give up!

"You can be at peace."

it never stops!"

stop!

My voice rang out through the clearing like a thunderclap. Everyone fell silent. Even the Shadow stopped it barrage of taunts.

My ears rang with the echo of their voices. It was the loudest silence I'd ever heard.

I turned my back to the Shadow, meeting my friend's eyes.

"I do know who I want to be," I told them. "I want to be better. I want to be kind. I want to be the sort of person who others come to when they're scared or alone. I want to be the kind of person who makes things right. I don't want to spend my life wondering who I could've been if I didn't fight to fix things.

I want to be good. Even if getting there hurts. Even if nobody ever forgives me."

I was crying by then, my tears falling faster than my words. My fur was messy and wild.

I made my choice.

I let them pull me close, collapsing completely into their hug. The darkness seemed to lift for a moment as they scents flowed around me like a calming fog.

"I love you." It was the only thing that felt right.

"We love you, too, man."

"And we always will."

For the first time since I could remember, I actually felt okay.

Well, maybe not 'okay'. Maybe that wasn't the right word. Maybe it would never be okay.

Hopeful.

Because I knew how to end this. I knew what would fix the world.

And I had to let go.

I pulled away from them again. I willed the strength into my paws and got to my feet. The Shadow was still there, its face still twisted with malice. I stared it down.

"You will never be free of this," it said.

I took a deep breath, letting the foul air fill my chest. "You were right. I was a terrible person. Maybe even a monster. I did awful things, and I hurt people, and nothing I ever do will make it go away. It's going to stay with me until the day I die."

I tried to ignore the hurt and disappointment from my friends. Tried to ignore River's pained whine. Even the Shadow looked startled.

"That's not all of who I am," I continued. "I was mean. I was the bully. I was a coward who took out my insecurities on people who looked weak. I was the one who hurt my friend, my family, and my future. That was me. There is no hiding it, or burying it, or erasing it. No amount of wishing makes it disappear.

"But I'm also the person who decided to face that truth. I'm the person who risked my life to save this world. I'm the person who chooses, with every breath and every word, to be kind. That matters, too.

I'm done with fighting the past. You can't have change without honesty. I'm going to be good and kind, even if it hurts. Even if nobody will ever forgive me. Especially if nobody will forgive me. Because it's simply the right thing to do."

It snarled. "Fool. You will never be free of me."

"No. I won't. But I don't have to let you rule me."

It leaped for me again. This time, I let it.

Where our bodies collided, there was an explosion of light. Of images, of words, of voices. All of it came rushing at me in a single moment. Everything I'd ever done. Every morsel of hurt I'd sent out into the world. I felt it all. Their heartbreak, their anger, their fear.

You broke his heart.

I did.

You ruined her trust.

I did.

You wounded them.

I did.

Their pain is yours to bear.

I will bear it with grace.

I let it build in my heart, until the weight of the grief I'd caused nearly crushed me beneath it. It was a living thing, moaning and crying in the night. It was lost, loveless, and scared. It had the voice of a child without a mother, sobbing from a thousand wrongs. It belonged to me. I was okay with that.

The monster in my head was never angry. It was hurt. It was hurt, and it was sad.

It's okay, I told it. You can be sad. You can be angry. You can be whatever you need to be. It's done now. I'll take the weight. You can finally rest.

And the Shadow screamed.

It was different from the violent roars and visceral snarls I was used to. This was a scream of pain.

I opened my eyes to find it writhing in torment. Its deadly claws were clamped over its misty head. Its maw was stretched wide in a howl of agony.

Its desperate, frantic movements seemed to be centred around its chest. As I watched, in awe of the massive beast's suffering, a flicker of light began to build where its heart should be. Acting on instinct alone, I reached for it. It radiated warmth and smelled like love. The moment my paws brushed it, it expanded. Like a dying star, it grew, swallowing every trace of darkness in its path until I was blind and dizzy with it all. The force knocked me to the ground.

I held on for dear life, the rapid winds trying their very hardest to rip me through the trees. The sudden switch from dark and cool to loud and bright and hot was a dizzying one. I couldn't find my friends in the glare.

And then, just like that, it winked out again, leaving behind no trace of the monster that once haunted my dreams.

Chapter Thirty-Five

They were all over me within seconds

"Oh my god, Starheart, are you okay?"

"That was amazing! Did you see that? Oh, stupid question. That was amazing!"

I crushed both my friends in another hug. "I'm fine. Everything's totally fine."

Nora laughed. I loved that sound so much. It was more beautiful than music. "You did it. You really, actually, did it. You crazy, weird, brave fox. You blow my mind, you know that?"

River shook me. "Look!"

The woods around us were brightening before our very eyes. It was like clouds were lifting away from the sun. Before I knew it, it was back to the way it was. Like nothing ever happened.

An elated thrill was muting the thorough, bone-weary exhaustion in my body. I'd feel it later. I wasn't worried about that. I was going to sleep better than I had in days.

My friends smelled okay, other than a few minuscule scrapes on River. The reek of rot was gone, and I could smell dozens of people scattered throughout the forest nearby.

I scanned the treeline. My fur spiked in surprise.

There was a shape hidden among the trunks. A black, lumpy, vaguely humanoid shape. The Shadow didn't make any attempt to come closer.

It only watched. It more resembled how it used to look, before all of this happened—smaller and without its glowing red eyes. Though this version of it didn't disappear when I tried to look at it.

"What are you looking at?" River asked.

"Don't you see it?"

Her eyes fell on the exact spot it was standing, but her face didn't change. "There's nothing there. Should there be?"

"I—" I shook my head. "I'll tell you later."

For now, I just wanted to be happy. Something told me it wasn't going to hurt anyone anymore, just like how something told me it was here to stay. Just for me.

You will never be free of me.

I'd have to get used to that.

Rustling in the bushes made all three of us look up.

"Dear goodness." Jerico rubbed his head. "I'm terribly exhausted."

We ran at him. The poor man was not prepared to be tackled from three separate angles.

"Where have you been?"

"You smell like blood!"

"Dude, what happened?"

"All right, all right, calm down, children. You're dirtying my good waistcoat," he said, though I noticed he made zero effort to escape the hug. "The beast had me in its clutches, I'm afraid."

River's ears drooped. "You were afflicted?"

"Indeed." He turned his gaze to me. "But it appears someone has set us free."

Hope rose like a wild bird in my heart as more footsteps joined us. Countless more people stumbled into the clearing, clutching aching heads and cradling fresh wounds.

But they were alive. All of them were alive.

I recognized the bunny and the zombie who had dragged me to the Shadow. The bunny's eyes were clear and bright. The zombie still looked awful, but he seemed marginally better than before.

Something very, very small touched my paw. I looked down to find Mr. Topsoil nudging me from the dirt.

Nora picked him up. He thanked her politely with a dip of his teeny tiny hat before turning to me. "Are you the one who stopped the Shadow?"

"I, uh—" I began. Nora nodded at me encouragingly. "I guess I am?"

It didn't come out the way a hero would say it. It came out weak. Unsteady. Unsure.

But maybe heroes weren't supposed to be all that perfect, anyway.

"Well, I thank you kindly, ma'am," the worm said. "You three's heroics will go down in history."

River's face lit up. I couldn't help but laugh.

I caught the eye of the council members—Rosaline included—standing on the edge of the clearing. Ira didn't approach me. He nodded once and then looked away. It made Nora annoyed enough to mutter something rude, but I was just glad not to be in trouble anymore.

The three of us lead the way through the forest, all the former afflicted travelling behind us like an army worn out from victory. More and more joined us the closer we got the Fable's Reach, turning the trickle of people into a crowd. The air was thick with love and relief as friends found their way to each other and mothers found their babies. The trees were thick and bright again.

Late day sunshine streamed through the fresh leaves, casting everything in an orange-green glow. The Shadow followed quietly behind, slipping between distant trees.

It was the longest march of my life, yet one that was over all too soon.

The trees gave way to an open stretch of grass, which in turn gave way to familiar dirt roads. We'd emerged from the forest near the copse where River had shown me the city lights. Already, I could see countless people emerging from hiding spots and edging cautiously out of doorways, not quite fully trusting it was safe.

An excited murmur rose from the crowd behind us as the cliff came into view. The city below was visible again, free from the darkness that had stolen so many homes. About half of them—mainly Live Action guardians—peeled away and made for home.

Three or four Sherlocks of all different types raced towards each other like excited children, already swapping theories about where they suspected the Shadow went. Hopper was there with the other healers, weaving through the pack and assessing injuries.

I scanned our remaining followers, looking for one in particular. My heart calmed down when I saw her. The woman with the duck beak—the one I'd thrown down a hole quite roughly—was there, looking no worse for wear.

Someone tapped me on the shoulder. A man was standing there with a teary-eyed look on his face. A very familiar baby squirmed in his arms. He seemed to recognize me, blubbering and smiling and reaching for me. The noises that came out of him seemed to be a very poor attempt to say my name.

"I heard you saved my son," the man said. "How can I repay you?"

I shook my head. "Don't worry about that. Just take care of him."

The man thanked me again and insisted on shaking my paw before disappearing into the crowd again.

Nora came up to me. "Get ready."

I eyed her. "Well, that's a little ominous. Care to elaborate on-augh

I found myself on the ground again. Seafern was trying to lick all three of our faces at once. Their long, wagging, scaly tail knocked over a handful of people. I'd missed that big, green snout. It seemed like they missed us, too—their relief was tinged with leftover fear.

Eventually, I managed to duck away from the crowds and their gratitude. I needed a moment to breathe. To think, too, would be nice. I heard that was good for a person. Avoiding my thoughts had never done me much good, anyway.

I headed into the copse. I went slower than I had last time, taking every moment I could to soak up the taste of the wind on my tongue.

The city looked different in the daylight. Just as alive, but with a different energy. None of the magic of the thousands of tiny star-like lights but filled with the joy of seeing dozens of people scuttle like ants in the street below.

I hoped they were safe. I hoped their homes weren't too ruined.

I always wondered how someone so cruel could feel such intense empathy later on. I'd thought it was some strange mismatch of my personality, two sides conflicting in completely different ways.

But I was starting to think it was more connected than I'd realized. Maybe I wasn't empathetic and kind in spite of my past cruelty. Maybe it was because of it. Those dark, horrific days burned my heart beyond belief. I never, ever wanted anyone to feel like I did, and I definitely never wanted to be the reason why.

People who didn't know me would look at my kindness and think I was incapable of cruelty. They'd be wrong. I was capable of being very, very cruel. More cruel than I liked to admit.

But I wasn't an evil person. Every day since those dark ages I woke up and make the choice to be kind despite it all. It's not some innate nature of mine. It's a choice. That's what makes me a good person—not being incapable of cruelty but choosing to fight against it in favour of kindness.

"It's time to go, Starheart." I only realized my friends had followed me when River spoke.

"Go where?" I asked, not looking away from the city below.

"Back home."

"It's not that late yet," I said. "The cabin can wait."

"Not the cabin." Nora nudged me. "Your other home, you goof. Earth. You can do that now."

I hadn't even thought about that. But she was right. There was nothing stopping me from going back now. It had been so long since I even stopped to worry about what was happening to my body on earth.

"I don't know," I worried. "There's still so much more to do here. Rebuilding and stuff. It feels wrong to leave so soon. What if someone needs me? What if—"

What if everything's bad up there?

What if I miss you and you're not there?

"Buddy, buddy, buddy." Nora held my face. "It's okay. Rebuilding's gonna take weeks. You'll have loads of chances to help. Don't worry about us."

"The time has come," River agreed. Her violet eyes were reassuring. "Don't fear, friend. You know we'll be with you."

We headed through the forest again. Nora and River were more familiar with the layout of the whole place than I was, so I let them lead the way. Still, it took a little time to find the right spot. By the time we arrived, the sun was almost gone.

The portal stood before me like a massive, glowing pearl. I'd forgotten how it glittered with an iridescent sheen. It had a calm, patient air about it, like a friend who always knew I'd be back.

I found that I couldn't take another step.

"It'll be okay." River squinted through the light coming off the portal. "You'll see."

"What if it's not?" I fretted.

"You're not supposed to worry this much," she said. "I fear I'm rubbing off on you."

I brushed her tail with mine. "That can't be all bad. You're pretty cool."

"Besides—" Nora held up the mirror. "—since when are you all alone? We're only a thought away."

I nodded sadly. "I'll miss seeing your face all day, though. And smelling you. There's nobody like you on earth. Nobody who really gets me like you do. I'm going to think about you the whole time and I know I'm going to forget you're not there—"

River hugged me. "I wish you could stay."

I smelled her head one last time. "Me, too."

Nora interrupted. "Guys, chill, she'll be back tomorrow. That's, like, thirteen hours tops. She's not going off to war and dying."

"That's what you think. You don't get to tell me what I do in my free time."

She found that hilarious. We dragged her into the hug, too.

A little stream of sadness trickled into her. "Yeah, well, you stay safe, okay? I don't want you breaking any bones when I'm not there to help."

"Same goes for you," I said. "Don't go ticking off government officials. No lighting trash cans on fire."

"One time!"

I turned to River and bent down to bop her nose with mine. "Be brave for me?"

She wiped her eyes. "Okay. Goodbye, Starheart."

"Bye, dude. Good luck," Nora added.

Luck. I could use a bit of that.

"Bye," I said, taking in one last look at my people.

And I stepped into the light.

Chapter Thirty-Six

The first thing I was aware of was how muted everything felt.

It was like there was a bag over my head. Everything sounded quieter and farther away. My nose caught a whiff of something like antiseptic, but it was utterly useless at telling me anything else. Something beeped. Over and over again.

I wanted to angle my ears toward the noise, but they hardly moved. Flat and pointless.

I opened my eyes. Even the colours were less bright, though everything was much more textured. Flat, white walls covered in medical posters and charts. A curtain shoved off to one side.

A faux wood side table covered in wilted flowers and get well soon cards that beamed with forced optimism. There was a bag of liquid hanging near me. It fed into a tube that snaked downwards and into my pale, bald, furless skin.

I never liked hospitals. Today, though, I didn't mind so much.

Two chairs were pushed up near my bed. My mom's eyes were red and puffy. Dad had an arm around her like he was afraid she'd disappear, too. Neither of them had noticed I was awake yet.

"Hi," I said.

Nothing I'd said before had ever triggered such a reaction. Before I knew it, the room was swarming with people. Doctors, nurses, medical students. Mom hugged me and cried.

Even Michael and Max were there, to my delight. They'd stepped out of the room for a second and returned to pure chaos. Apparently, they'd visited almost every day. I thought that was really nice.

I didn't get much of a chance to speak to them right away. The doctor insisted on giving me a full look over. Poking at me and listening to my lungs the same way Hopper did when I almost died. He took some of my blood, too.

In the end, he looked completely stumped. There was nothing wrong with me. Not a single thing was off. It was like I'd had a really, really long nap.

The Shadow watched it all silently from the corner. I met its eyes—where its eyes should have been, at least. It didn't move.

The doctor explained that my parents had called an ambulance when I didn't wake up in the morning. Nobody had been able to work it out. I was okay in every sense of the word. My brain activity was the same as someone who was completely awake.

Total medical mystery, he said. Especially when the wounds started. A massive gash split my chest apart with no warning. No cause.

The scar was on my human body, too. I assumed it would be. On the bright side, it was much easier to hide like this than it was in my true form, since it was under my shirt.

Eventually, everyone calmed down. Somewhat. They thought I seemed okay enough to go home. My parents left the room to fill out some forms. It was just me, Michael, and Max.

Michael pulled a five dollar bill out of his pocket and handed it to Max. "Can you get me something from the vending machine?"

"Uh… okay. What do you want?"

"Whatever. Get yourself something, too."

Max looked a little startled, but he obeyed. I watched him shut the door carefully behind him.

I could feel the weight behind Michael's stare as we were finally alone together. I couldn't help but remember out last conversation.

Guys? You there? I wanted to make sure. They hadn't said anything since I woke up.

We're here, said River. It seems you have some explaining to do.

Knock him out! Nora cried. Run for the hills! Start your life as an outlaw!

You're a terrible influence, I told her, amused.

He fiddled with his sleeve. "Hey, Star?"

Him using my real name caught me so off guard it took me a few seconds to realize he was actually trying to talk to me. "Yeah?"

"You weren't lying, were you? About going somewhere in your dreams." He looked away. "I was there when it happened. Your injury, I mean. I've been trying for days to find any other rational explanation for it, but… well, there isn't one."

I regarded him seriously. "You don't think I'm crazy?"

"I did. I'm not gonna lie. But now…" He shook his head. "Something happened in there, didn't it? Something that kept you from coming back. Something that hurt you."

I fiddled with the medical bracelet around my wrist. "Yeah. It's—well, it's a really long story."

He smiled. "Maybe you could tell it to me someday. For now, just know you're not alone in this, alright? I'm here if you need me. And for the record, I'm sorry I didn't believe you."

I grinned back. "Thanks. And it's okay. I wouldn't have believed you if you told me that, either."

Max chose that moment to come back into the room. His arms were loaded with snacks. Every type under the sun.

"Dude, how much did you get?" Michael asked. "I only gave you five bucks!"

"This is a moment that calls for snacks, Mike. I did what I had to. Catch!" He threw three bags at me. I dropped all of them.

I'd been so sure Michael and Max would never want to see me again. Between my near breakdown around Michael and that horrible interaction with Max, I thought I'd chased them both away.

But both of them were still here. They'd stayed through it all, and here they were, messing around and joking with me like nothing ever happened. It made staying on earth feel more bearable. Despite everything, I still had friends.

Maybe I'm not as alone here as I thought.

Chapter Thirty-Seven

The next few weeks were a blur.

There were always things to do. The Shadow may have been gone—more or less—but the destruction it left behind was very, very real. From crumpled buildings to buckled roads, shattered windows to missing bikes, the three of us and everyone else who was able bodied enough to help were constantly busy.

Nobody minded. It was nice to have problems that weren't life threatening. Nobody was angry with me anymore—apparently, me stopping the Shadow made up for me sort of bringing it to Fable's Reach in the first place.

The Shadow never bothered me. It was always there. From when I woke up until I went to sleep at night, it watched me. When I walked, it followed a few paces behind. No matter which world I travelled to or which form I took, it was there. It was a little unsettling at first, but I got used to it quicker than I thought I would. It faded into the background after a while, a silent companion who joined me in everything I did. I didn't tell anyone but Nora and River about it.

The clean up went by like a breeze. River was right about how useful a whole society of people with superpowers were. It probably would've taken years on earth.

I couldn't rest, though. There were still some things I had to do.

It still felt weird being back at school. It seemed almost trivial and pointless compared to everything that had happened. Kids flowed around me like water, each one worrying about a test or a friend or a crush. Nobody looked at me, except for the occasional taunt from the usual teen boy who hated my tail. I may as well have not even been there.

There was one person I was looking for. This time, I wouldn't let myself ignore her.

I found her near the library. She was reading the posters taped to the glass like she was waiting for somebody.

Are you sure you're ready for this? River asked.

I have to be, I said. If I didn't do it now, I would never go through with it. And I had to do this.

Before I let myself overthink it, I walked right up to Cammy.

She flinched when she saw me. I couldn't blame her. We hadn't even acknowledged each other since it happened.

"Wait," I said. "Don't walk away. Please. I have something to say. Can we talk?"

Anger flickered across her face. Then sadness. For a second, I thought she'd say no. "Fine. Make it quick. I have somewhere to be."

"Okay." Dozens of faces from the motivational posters on the library walls smiled down on us. Pictures of students who looked way too happy for people who were forced to do math every day. I wished I felt as carefree as they looked. But just because something felt awful, didn't mean it wasn't important.

I looked Cammy in the eye. "I wanted to say that I'm sorry. What I did back then was wrong. It was cruel, it was heartless, and I had no excuse for it. I hurt you, and that wasn't okay.

You don't have to forgive me—I understand if you don't. I just thought you deserved to know."

To say she looked shocked would be an understatement. I thought there was a trace of warmth in her expression, though. "I… wow. Thanks. For that. I appreciate it. I don't know if I can forgive you, honestly. But… thanks."

I nodded, swallowing back my disappointment. I tried to focus on the light in her eyes. The way it seemed just a little bit brighter.

She turned to leave.

"Wait." It sort of just came out. She paused, looking back at me quizzically.

"I wish you the best," I said. "Really. You're a good person. Better than I was. I hope things work out for you."

She smiled sadly. "You too, Isa. Goodbye."

I knew we'd never speak again. Apologies or not, I'd broken our friendship beyond repair. She'd never trust me again. That was okay.

Trust was something earned. I'd be the first person to admit I threw that away.

Are you okay? Nora asked.

Yeah. Yeah, I'm okay.

It wasn't a lie. It didn't hurt nearly as much as I thought I did. In fact, I was sure both of us had found a little more peace.

***

You can do this, Starheart.

This isn't the end of the world.

They're not going to hate you forever.

It's just going to be super, horrifically embarrassing at worst.

Somehow, that didn't help.

I couldn't find my friends in the cabin. I knew they had to be nearby—ever since the Shadow was defeated, the portals consistently dropped me in their general area. Jerico thought the Shadow's dark energy had been messing with the portal magic while it was still around.

That didn't matter now. What mattered was the fact that I had something very important to confess and my friends had apparently chosen that exact moment to vanish. I wasn't really feeling all that brave. This particular day was just one where I was reckless enough to actually do it.

Part of me really didn't want to. That part insisted it would be easier. Safer. Simpler.

Better keep it to yourself, it said. You can't ruin everything that way.

The bigger part of me knew that wasn't right. Friends were honest with each other, even when it was complicated. Frankly, I still had no idea what this was or what was going on, but I was sick of hiding it. Especially when I was so completely bad at it.

I found Seafern rolling in the dirt out back.

"Do you know where everyone went?" I asked. "It's important."

They sat up, shaking the dust from their scales. They pointed into the woods. I thanked them, and then immediately froze up with nerves.

I could smell their trail. It made everything feel a little bit too real.

Really, Starheart? Shadow monsters, mind-controlled zombies, and the literal end of the world, and this is what scares you the most?

Seafern nudged me with their snout. They rumbled encouragingly.

They were right. I had to go. It was about time.

The Shadow drifted close behind me as I followed the scent trail through the trees. I muttered to myself the whole way, still trying to work out what to say. I was so anxious I could almost taste my own heartbeat.

"Hey. Yeah. So. Um. I sort of like you? Like, both of you, maybe? I know that's not a thing. Sorry. I know, I think it's terrifying, too.

Let's never speak of this again." I paused. "That was awful, wasn't it?"

The Shadow stared blankly. It somehow seemed more disappointed in me than usual.

"Don't look at me like that. This isn't easy, you know."

I stopped when I heard voices up ahead. Their scents sharpened into something fresh and recent. I'd found them.

They probably weren't expecting me this soon. I'd gone to bed earlier than usual. Once I'd decided today was the day, I couldn't put it off any longer. No matter what happened, good or bad, I needed to get it over with.

I wasn't sure what I was expecting. I didn't even know what I wanted or how I really felt, honestly. It was still a confusing mess of emotions. All I knew was that it was something very real.

I allowed myself a few moments of fear, leaning against a nearby tree for support. As I did, the right words finally came to me, falling into place in my heart.

I can do this. I'm not going to freak out.

I headed towards the voices.

I was far enough away that I couldn't make out exactly what they were saying, but it sounded important from their tones. My paws were silent in the undergrowth—I was getting better at stalking by the day. I could even sneak up on River, if I wanted to.

Through a gap in the trees, I could see Nora and River talking. Neither of them was looking at me. I was about to call out to them when my ears finally picked up what they were saying.

"What do you think she'll say?" River somehow looked even more anxious than usual.

"Man, I wish I could tell you. I sure hope she's cool with it. That would be great. But I don't know." Nora's heart sounded fast and nervous.

Cool with what? Were they talking about me?

River smiled nervously, exposing her sharp white teeth. Her nose twitched. I wondered what was going through her head.

"If she's not," she said, "would we still be together? I mean, could we be? I really do like you."

Oh.

I didn't hear anything else they said. My heart dropped like a cold, heavy stone.

Too late. You're too late.

It wasn't supposed to go like this.

I had to get out of there. There was still time to leave before they noticed me. I could disappear into the forest and only come back once I figured out how to seem alright. I could pretend it never happened.

In my panic, I forgot to pay attention to my paws. A stick snapped beneath me, echoing through the forest like the loudest sound ever made.

They both jumped. Our eyes met.

Nora reacted first. "Hold on, it's not like—"

I cut her off. "It's fine. It's… it's okay." I didn't sound convincing at all. "I have to go."

I didn't wait for them to explain. I took off in a random direction. I didn't care where I ended up, as long as it wasn't here.

Don't cry.

Branches clawed at my fur. A warm breeze tugged at my ears. I splashed through a big, swampy puddle without slowing down.

Don't cry.

What's going to happen now? Nothing's ever going to be the same.

What if they like each other better and don't want to hang out with me anymore?

I stopped when I reached a stream. I buried my face in my paws.

"Wait up! Geez, why are you so fast?"

I growled at myself internally. Of course they'd followed me. I turned around shakily.

"It's fine," I repeated. "Really. I just want you to be happy, you know? It's alright."

It was true. I loved them more than anything else in the world. I wanted the best for them. Even if the best had less of me in it than I hoped. Even if the best for them meant travelling far, far away and never seeing them again, I'd do it. Even if it killed me.

"Dude, hold up. You didn't let us explain," Nora pleaded.

She looked over at River. Some small, slight agreement passed between them. River stepped forward, clasping her paws together nervously. She'd never looked so afraid of talking to me before.

"We do like each other," she told me. "And we were going to say something. I suppose we just didn't anticipate your arrival so soon."

Yeah. That sort of backfired, didn't it?

"But you must know something," she continued. "And it might sound unusual, but… well, we like you as well. And we wanted to know if…"

"…If you'd be with us, too." Nora finished.

My brain stopped working. "What, like, all three of us? Is that allowed?"

"Who cares? The rules are all stupid and made up anyway. If anyone gets mad at us, I'll fight them." Nora punched the air dramatically.

"We'd be alright with it. If you were," River said much more softly.

I didn't know what to say. My mind was spinning in a hundred directions, each one more confusing than the last. It felt like a pack of warm, fuzzy bunnies were thumping around in my chest. They were happy bunnies.

But there was a wolf in there, too. It was a wolf of anxiety and something unsaid. That same feeling of this isn't quite right nagged at me.

My ears drooped. "I've been thinking about it a lot, and I'm pretty sure by now that I'm aromantic. And that's not going to change, of course. But something's been driving me crazy." I tugged at my ears like I was trying to pull them off. "I like you.

Like, a lot. Way more than friends are supposed to. But that's not right, is it? That's not how it works. Nora was right. You don't feel this much about a person without it being romantic. That word, though… it just doesn't feel right. It's not right, and I don't know how to make sense of it."

I thought they'd be confused, too. I was ready for heartbreak. Maybe even frustration at me for being so strange.

Instead, River shot Nora a horrified look. "You told her that?"

"What?" Nora said defensively. "Why are you looking at me like that? It's true, isn't it?"

River just shook her head. She padded closer to me and reached out to hold my paw in hers. It made my heart jump out of my chest.

"Feelings are inherently complicated," she said. "That goes for love. Especially for love, I'd say. The greatest disservice humanity has done for themselves was convincing each other there's only one deep way to love someone else.

That deep, unbreakable affection can only be romantic, and everything else that's platonic must be on a level below. It's all lies, Starheart. All of it. There are as many types of love as people on earth. All of them hold their own beauty. And something not being romantic absolutely does not mean it's less real or worthwhile. Have you heard the word 'queerplatonic'?"

It sounded vaguely familiar, but I couldn't define it.

"A relationship that holds equal importance and value to a romantic one, without actually being romantic. Or platonic. It's sort of its own, unique kind of love that exists beyond the boxes society as a whole have decided exist."

That sounded really, really nice. It was like she'd taken that strange, shapeless feeling I'd been wrestling for weeks and turned it into something tangible and real. I'd never known there was a word for it.

Nora seemed to agree. "I thought it felt different this time. Guess I just assumed I was being weird about it."

River nodded. "Does that sound… sound like…"

Nora reached out to still her shaking arm. "Yeah. That sounds good to me, buddy."

The happiness coming off them made my tail wag.

Nora looked up at me again. "What do you say, man? Willing to put up with our nonsense for good?"

I watched a bird hopping nearby. Its inky black feathers seemed less imposing than before. More like a friend. "You guys are the first people who ever made me feel like I could be more than who I used to be. You saw good in me where nobody else did.

You saved my life. Even when I hated myself so much I wanted to die, you were there. I don't know how you saw anything worthwhile beyond the fear, the anger, and the grief, but you did. Maybe I'll never understand it, but I'm so, so glad for it. There's nobody in the world—in any world—like you two."

I hugged them both, unable to contain my smile any longer. "It's definitely a yes."

I never thought someone like me could be alright. Maybe part of the problem was having the wrong idea of what 'alright' actually meant. I couldn't erase what I did, and I couldn't forget it. But I could embrace it, accept it, and learn from it. I could find people who thought I was good, despite it all. I could become a force for goodness and change.

Because people are not stones. Nothing is carved into our hearts until the end of days. We are strange, malleable, ever-shifting beings, always finding new homes and destinies and truths. Maybe some shadows of the past haunt us for life, but they don't have to cloud the future.

We're bigger than that. The past is unchangeable, but the future is as wild as the winds and as ours as the beat of our own hearts. Seize the present.

Grow from the past. Become the future.

River's happy squeaks filled my ears. The hilt of Nora's sword poked me in the side. I couldn't care less. I never wanted to be anywhere but here, surrounded by the ones who always saw the good in me.

I was home.

Author's Note

Simple words do not hold the capacity to describe how close this story is to my heart.

The idea has been brewing deep inside my mind for many years. As someone who owes his current stability and joy to fictional characters and the worlds they come from, it wasn't hard to envision a place where that love turns to magic. A place to belong, where your deepest wishes and secrets fantasies come true. However, it was not until December of 2024 when that vague, ever-shifting idea took a solid form.

It was the first domino in a long, long line of passion and dedication that led to the book you're holding in your hands. To describe to you every step of that process would likely be longer than the story itself.

So I'll keep things short, and I'll tell you how I feel.

Everyone you've met along the journey you've just taken—every person, no matter how big or small, wayward or steady, mammalian or annelid—was me. Starheart was born from my desire to do good in the world, and my grief over the complexities of mortal nature. She's a vessel for the fight I had to undertake to accept my own flaws, and face regret head on. No living being is capable of being perfect—none of us are gods—and it's up to us to gather the courage to recognize when we've caused pain. Though, as you've discovered, that recognition is only the first step on a journey to reconciliation.

Nora holds my anger. The anger of someone born into a world not quite built for them. The rage of a lifetime of unfairness. The fury of someone forced to bear the expectations of others. But as angry as she (and I!) can be, she's also my love. That protective, unshakable love felt for the people who finally see you. The one that settles over your heart like shining armor, reminding you with every beat and breath what you're fighting for. She's the hero I needed, and the person I hope I can someday become.

River represents many of my aches and pains. Like her, I've spent my life trying and failing to understand the millions of little rules that come along with being a functional person in society. She was, in large part, an expression of my own frustrations with everything I seemed to be missing. Imagining her finding a place where she's loved and understood despite her anxieties and differences was of great comfort to me. There is a home for all of us, after all—it's simply a matter of searching.

As for you, dear reader, I hope you found pieces of your soul in them, too. Stories are a fantastic vessel for change and self acceptance, capable of bringing comfort in even the bleakest of times. If my passion project has made your existence even the slightest bit brighter, then I'm happy. May you walk through this life with the knowledge that you, like Starheart, are worthy of love and self-forgiveness.

And don't be too quick to move on. After all, this may not be the last you see of our three heroes…

-M.W.