“Do you have a name?” she whispered. I smiled at her, memory tugging at the corners of my ancient mind. The strange magic, the same beautiful wonder, of the children I once knew. They called me a King’s name once, I said, my tail flickering. But that was a long time ago. “What shall I call you, then?” Nothing, child, I said, crawling back into the blackness. I’m just the wind in the trees, the shadow, and the fright. The echo in the leaves… the nightmare in the night.
ELSPETH IS GONE NO
