“Oh…oh, dear,” Ethellus muttered, growing more worried by the moment. The muddy, tattered lump had turned out to be an unconscious young man half-buried in dead leaves, as the Old Forester discovered the moment he prodded him with his stick. He flopped over and remained still, dried blood stark against his pale face.

My eyes snapped open. …Booommn… I was staring at the floorboards. Blue-gray in the dim moonlight. …Booommn… I stared up at the window, expecting to see the white moon. I only saw the dark empty air outside, lit with a muted light from no visible source. Something was wrong.

All was silent…till at last the faint echo of voices came. Every fiber of my being quivered at the sound. I closed the fabric over my satchel, shut the iron-bound chest, and rose, with practiced speed. Footsteps sounded on stone in the hallway. I popped open my lantern’s hatch and blew out the flame, plunging…