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Chapter 1
It’s not every day you meet a monster.
For most people, monsters are something out of fairytale storybooks. They’re things of legends, things they’ve only ever heard about. For most people, the idea of monsters is horrifying and a little unnerving. After all, no one wants to admit the thing they’re most afraid of is real. No one wants to admit the stories could be true.
My father warns me that Farwol is this sort of monster. He warns me that the best thing I can do is to stay hidden, to lock myself in my bedroom and not come out. He says that when Farwol comes to collect his debts, I need to be as far from the creature as possible.
He says this is the only way to survive.
I don’t remember when my father got entangled with the beast from the forest. Everyone in the village fears the reclusive billionaire who comes only to collect his debts. It’s only when the three moons align together and shine bright that Farwol will come. It’s on these nights the villagers who are indebted to him must pay what they owe or face a fate worse than death.
It’s on these nights when the creature comes to call that the villagers grow terrified.
Tonight, my father is one of them.
He begins to panic around lunchtime. The sun is still bright in the sky, but he’s trying to collect enough money to pay back the man he borrowed from. Why my father owes Farwol, I don’t know. Why my father would turn to seeking money from a monster, I don’t understand. The only thing I know is that when the sun sets, he’ll come to our door, and my father must be ready to pay.
“I can help you,” I say, watching him run around. He’s grabbing different items of value to try to go sell. He’s grabbing the candlesticks, the paintings, the silverware. He’s grabbing anything he thinks might fetch a price, but fear fills my heart because I don’t think it will be enough.
Whatever debt my father owes Farwol, it’s one that will not be repaid with simple silverware. No, this debt goes much deeper and is far greater than I can imagine.
“Eve, you must stay here,” Father says. He grabs a few more items and throws them into a large bag before heading out of the house. “And no matter who comes to the door, you don’t answer it. Understand? Do not answer the door, Eve. Not even for your friends.”
I stand at the door and nod, not quite understanding the seriousness of the situation. My father is completely panicking and I wish I could help him. I wish there was something I could do. I should be able to do something, to ease his suffering, but he won’t tell me what he’s done, what he owes.
He won’t tell me why he went to the monster in the first place.
Father closes the door and waits just outside while I lock it. Once satisfied, I hear him descend the rest of the steps and leave with Pepper, our horse. Then I am truly alone.
I sit in a chair and stare at the wall, wondering how the world has come to this. Am I such a failure as a daughter that I cannot figure out a way to save my own papa? Am I such a terrible human that I cannot come up with a single solution to this predicament? I should be better.
I should be able to find a way.
Yet I spend the entire afternoon and into the evening trying to come up with ideas to make the money my father desperately needs and I come up short. I come up with nothing. Soon the moons rise and father still isn’t back. I pace back and forth in the living room for what feels like hours. Eventually, the sound of hoofs arrives outside the door and father comes into the house.
“Did you get the money?” I ask anxiously, hopefully, but he shakes his head. “Oh, Papa,” I whisper, going to him. I hug my father, wrapping my arms around him. “What’s going to happen now?” I ask.
“We’ll figure something out,” he says, only this time, he doesn’t sound as hopeful as he did before. The paintings and the silverware are gone. Father is carrying a thin velvet bag that jingles as he moves.
“How much gold did you get?” I ask, nodding toward the bag.
He shakes his head. “Silver,” is all he says, and he sets it down on the wooden table in the center of the room. We sit to a supper of warm stew and stale bread, but eat in silence. We’re both so completely wrapped up in our own thoughts that we don’t hear the horses approaching the house until the riders are coming up to the door.
“Eve!” My father says my name in a hushed whisper. “Quick! To your room!”
“Papa,” I protest lightly, but I know it’s no use. They’ve come for him and there’s no stopping whatever happens now. He motions for me to go hide, so I go into the adjacent bedroom and close the door. Then I crawl under the bed.
Papa showed me long ago where he wanted me to hide if anything bad happened. This isn’t a particularly good hiding place. I think if someone wants to find me, it won’t be difficult, but it’s the only place I have.
The area beneath the bed is dusty. I should have kept this area clean, I realize, but it’s too late for that now. My dress will be dirty and soiled when I come out, but that doesn’t matter.
All that matters is my father.
I hear him open the door.
“Gentlemen,” he says politely. “What can I do for you?”
Even with the bedroom door closed, it’s not difficult to hear what they’re saying. The hardwood floors make every sound echo, make every footstep exaggerated.
“You know why we’re here,” a deep voice says.
“I don’t have your m-m-money,” my father starts to stutter, and suddenly, the room seems so much colder.
He’s scared.
Papa is scared.
My father is never scared, never afraid. Nothing makes him worry. Nothing upsets him. He certainly never becomes unnerved to the point of stuttering, but that’s happening now.
“That’s unfortunate,” the voice says. “I suppose I’ll have to take my payment in other ways.” I listen carefully. There are at least three men, I think. The one talking must be Farwol. He said my money: not our money. That makes me think he’s the one in charge, the one leading this group of thugs.
That’s what they are, I think with an angry frown. They’re thugs. They’re bandits. They’re worth
less pieces of shit who have no business coming in here.
And I won’t let them touch my father.
I should go out there and reason with them. Maybe if I explain everything, they’ll be understanding. Maybe they’ll leave us alone.
Only, before I can move to wiggle out of my spot, I hear footsteps approaching the door, and I pause.
“Anything,” my father says. “I’ll give you anything you want.”
Farwol pauses for a moment. His men say something I can’t quite hear. Maybe he’ll be reasonable. Maybe he’ll be normal. Maybe he won’t be the monster everyone says he is. Maybe he won’t be the beast.
But then Farwol says, “I’m terribly sorry about interrupting your supper.” My heart starts to race as I realize what he’s going to say next. “Who was your dining companion? Surely an impoverished man, such as yourself, wouldn’t eat two bowls of stew on your own.”
