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“Ugh, what do you want? I can’t understand you,” I said, glancing at the large, black bird again.

It made a trilling noise in response, and I remained trekking forward. I had to be at least halfway there, now. I stopped and looked around, feeling displaced after being distracted by the animals.

The crow flew ahead of me and began screeching and flapping its wings; its beak stretched open. The damned bird was yelling at me.

I raised my arms in the air and dropped them back down, answering the creature, “I know! I’m bringing it back. You need to calm down, bro.”

Laughing at myself for talking with a bird, I ducked under a branch and pushed forward. The woods cleared a bit and suddenly, I didn’t know where I was. My GPS indicated I was on track, not lost, but for whatever reason, everything looked out of place.

“Fuckity, fuck, fuck, fuck,” I moaned. “This is ridiculous. Almost as ridiculous as talking to a bird.”

The bird let out a loud squawk, and I rolled my eyes at it.

I only took about ten more steps when the ground disappeared from beneath my feet. My heart leaped into my throat as I began free-falling, desperately searching for purchase. My back hit something solid, and I bounced to the side, hitting something else. My fingers scraped wood, bending my nails backwards and filling my throat with bile before I hit my head against the same object and landed on my ankle.

Pain shot up my leg and down my wrist before I registered the burning on my scalp. I didn’t know what to register first but when I leaned forward to grab my foot, my hair quickly took precedence. My strands were caught in splinters and when I went to stand, I knew my ankle was seriously messed up.

Lifting myself to my knees, I reached up and pulled as much of my hair free as I could, leaving a significant amount of my extra-long strands behind. Unfortunately, I never bothered to put my hair back this morning, and I was now paying the price.

My ankle was rapidly swelling and after feeling around my foot and calf, I decided it wasn’t broken, just seriously sprained.

Next, I did my best to examine where I was. It looked like a one hundred square foot cube, with dirt walls at least ten feet tall, a dirt floor, and sharpened wooden spikes about six feet tall. There were ten of the deadly points, and it was by sheer miracle that I wasn’t impaled on one of them right now.

A wave of fear washed over as my head swiveled. It seemed impossible that I had fallen just right to not have been killed.

Whatever this thing was that I had fallen into, it was a final destination. There was no easy way to scale the walls, especially not with my ankle in the shape it was in.

Using one of the wooden poles, I pulled myself into a standing position, my eyes smarting as razor-sharp stabs shot up my leg. I took a deep breath, trying to work my way through the pain, swallowing the nausea, and trying to keep my head clear.

I only managed one step before I was down on my knees, partially between two of the stakes. If I laid flat on my back, they pressed into my sides. Tears streamed down my cheeks at my predicament, and one of the crows perched on one of the javelins, digging its claws into the woods, before chattering away at me. He cocked his head and it really felt like he was saying, “I told you so.”

“Either fuck off or go get help,” I gasped, trying not to throw up.

The bird disappeared and I rolled over, freeing myself from my backpack. It was going to be bad enough trying to maneuver in this condition, so I left a boot on my good foot while removing the other.

I flopped onto my belly and unzipped the bag, dragging out my first aid kit. There was some wide medical tape and after a little while, I was able to wrap my ankle.

The treatment helped with stabilization, and I swallowed a couple of pain killers. About twenty minutes went by before the pills started to work, and I started slowly navigating the earthen cage. The walls were surprisingly smooth and almost appeared professionally engineered. Very few roots peeked through the dirt, and those that did couldn’t possibly hold my body weight.

While I paced the perimeter of my cage, the ever-present crow followed, quietly watching my actions with interest.

I was trapped. There were no two ways about it. Unless some passers-by just happened to stroll by, the likelihood of getting out was near zero. This was my grave, and my own bones would soon be scavenged. I wondered if Kiam would find me and add my skull to his tabletop collection.

There was nothing left to do but settle in as the light slowly dimmed, and the sky began its change over to dusk. My phone battery was at twenty percent, and I had no Wi-Fi signal—of course. Because why would I?

I grabbed a granola bar and took a couple swigs of water. I had to pee, but I wasn’t so desperate as to contaminate any corners of my final resting place.

The second I bit into my snack, a shadow fell over me.

“Who knew I would capture such pretty prey?”

CHAPTER 9

Kiam

The historian that had delivered the Hausburg to the university hadn’t been any help at all. My poking and prodding made no difference, and after he soiled himself, all I’d gotten out of him was, “the south of France.” His stench made him useless for a meal, as well, though I preferred female blood.

I would have liked to have left his body in the history office as a warning to others, but I magicked his body away into nothing, watching as he shriveled into ash just to be carried away by the HVAC system.