And somewhere in the second one it stops being funny.
Because I haven’t actually looked at it.
Not really.
Even when he caught me just now.
I’ve been looking at Erik, the door, her — anything but the thing in the middle of the room.
So I look.
Pillows three deep. Two blankets, a throw. Corners softened. A wall along the back. It isn’t a pile of bedding shoved together. It’s built.
Blanket fort.
That’s the word I want.
The harmless one.
It’s not a nest.
That isn’t…
I look over to where she disappeared around the corner.
It’s not.
Because human females don’t do that. So obviously…
Her scent’s been under all of it since the box opened and we got in.
It’s stronger here. Strongest in the n… The blanket fort.
Oh.
Oh no.
No no no.
I know what she is.
This is the worst thing that’s happened all day.
It’s not real. It’s a fucking fairy tale.
I need to sit down.
But the only place to sit is…
Nope.
Everybody knows the stories. You hear them as a kid and you stop believing in the idea about the time you stop believing anything good is coming for you. Because there hasn’t been one of…thosein longer than I’ve been alive. Because that’s the whole point of the story — they’re gone.
There was one with a mountain in it. Or a lake. I don’t remember — I was six, and it was a story.
She’s in the kitchen, breaking things.
We crossed a realm and kicked in a door for a disturbance nobody could figure out.
