It’s maddening.
I don’t think it’s one of Kizzi’s sprites, though they do flutter about from time to time.
I suspect it may be a ghost.
It almost feels like I’m being haunted by my own shadow.
I worry, if I really am losing my mind, what will happen to Bram? Will they take me away, lock me up?
I wonder if Velline can fixme, if there’s something broken in my mind, but I haven’t gathered the courage to ask her.
Maybe tomorrow, I?—
Atwinge on the periphery of my senses pulled me from my reading. I cocked my head to focus.
Someone was approaching the cottage. Two someones.
It was the dead of night, who would visit her cottage at this hour?
Besides myself, of course.
A knock sounded on the front door. “Ginny!” a voice shouted. “Are you up?”
Brambleby jumped to his feet as Ginger groggily sat up, scrubbing her fists over her eyes.
I momentarily panicked. I didn’t have time to run.
I stayed as still as possible, praying the darkness of the room was enough to shroud me from her view. If she didn’t light a lamp, I would be okay. Her eyesight was dull, anyway.
I held my breath. My heart raced in my chest.
“Ginny!” the voice shouted again. I recognized it as Kizzi, the strange green witch and Ginger’s friend. There was something about that witch that set me on edge. I both wanted to drift toward her and avoid her at the same time—a magnetism that both summoned and repelled.
Naturally, I avoided her as much as possible.
Ginger shoved the covers down and pulled herself out of bed. “One second,” she groaned. She wobbled when shestood, taking a moment to slap her hand over her mouth. She stumbled to the door with the beast at her heels.
To my luck, she left her lantern unlit on the bedside table.
I exhaled heavily.
I stayed where I was as she opened the door and spoke with the witch and the orc. I tilted my head and focused to catch their conversation.
“Is Raine here?” the witch asked nervously. “Hex forgot to pull the door shut and the little menace slipped out. I was hoping she came over for a slumber party or something.”
“She usually comes home, but it’s dark out, and we’re worried. There’s a storm brewing,” the orc added.
Ginger yawned before answering. “No, she’s not here. Do you know where she is, Bram?” she asked the beast.
Was she able to communicate with the dragon? How impressive. That was a rare skill, indeed.
“I’m sure she’s just playing,” the witch said, a slight quiver to her voice. “No need to fret.”
“Do you want any help looking?” Ginger asked. I tensed. She wanted to go out wandering the woods at night? That was a dreadful idea. Dangerous creatures roamed the woods at night.
Creatures more dangerous than even me.
“No, go back to bed. I’m sure she’ll turn up. Thanks,” the orc said.
