13. Mari

Chapter thirteen

Mari

S izzle it does; I throw my bed covers off, flopping back and blowing a rogue strand of hair out of my face.

I regret choosing the room with the small, unreachable window. Because I could use a cool breeze right now.

Well, that ' s weird , I think languidly. That wasn ' t there before.

Moonlight streams in through a window centered just above the small dresser.

Moonlight? Does that mean the rains have stopped? I walk over and look out. Something feels off, like everything is in a haze, sepia- toned.

The bright light casts shadows over the forest below, making trees look like skeletons. I scan the landscape, then reach for the window latch to let in some cool air.

I grab the frame, tugging it up. My arms are heavy, weighed down. I waggle my fingers in front of my face. Everything is moving slower.

I open the windowwithmore effort than it should take. Warm, humid air streams in.Ibackup, surprised by thesensation.

Relief for my burning skin is nowhere in sight.

The warm air fills the room, wet and heavy like a sauna. I walk back over, intending to close the window. But then I see it. Two red eyes part the forest like a knife through butter.

My heart stops, and my body shivers. The creature stops in the beam of rust-toned moonlight, allowing me to see itsfull, terrifying form.

I inhale deeply, gasping against the damp air. It burns as it goes down. Drowning, this feels like drowning. Shut the window, shut the window . I scream at myself, but my body doesn't answer. Shut the window, you dumb bitch.

For a fleeting instance, I feel it lurking in my thoughts. Fueling my fear. Raking its clawed hands over the files of memories I keep locked so tightly in my mind; most have been forgotten.

The creature whips its head, its red eyes locked on me.

It smiles, and its sharp yellow teeth cut a stain across its face.

Found you . Its voice is so unnatural that I fear it will shatter glass. Before I can move or blink, its horrid face looms over me, drifting through the dense air like a plume of dark smoke, extending a black-tipped claw through the open window.

Come out, Mari, the weather is lovely .

My eyes fly open, and my body heaves up with a gasp. My gaze darts to one direction then the next; the room is illuminated with early morning light.

I run a hand over my sweat-streaked forehead before tucking my knees into my chest.

Two eyes with long lashes and violet irises stare at me from the foot of my bed.

I shoot up, and two more come to join.

The dull gray morning light fills the space enough that I can vaguely make out their appearance.

Three small, sage green faces with bright purple eyes watch me from my bedpost.

Children. Curious ogre children are in my room. This isn't a dream. Right? I touch my cheeks, feeling the heat of my palm against my skin. No, you ' re here, you ' re real, this is real.

From my observations, adult ogres have features that align with their stature. They are solid and sharp, with every line chiseled as if it were set from stone. Dangerous and beautiful.

However, their children have the same roundness on their faces as humans do. They are chubby-cheeked and bright-eyed.

They stare at me while I make my assessments. The one in the middle fidgets. She has her black hair in two braids and wears a cotton dress as amethyst as her eyes.

They must be triplets. Other than the fact that one is in a dress and the other two are in pants and knit sweaters, I wouldn't be able to tell them apart.

"Well, hello there," I say, putting on a gentle tone.

They say nothing back; they just stare with those strange violet eyes.

Come to think of it. I might be incredibly strange-looking to them.

I clear my throat, careful to keep my voice light, wiping sweaty strands of hair from my face.

"My name is Mariana, but you can call me Mari. What are your names?"

All three glance at each other, maybe confused. Then, the one in a brown, thick-knit sweater and blue pants speaks up. "I'm Ash, and these are my sisters, Olive and Violet."

Colors. They are named after colors, and that's adorable.

"Pleased to meet you, Ash, Olive, and Violet. How old are you?"

"We're seven!" Olive chimes in. Her name contrasts with the purple of her eyes and dress.

"Wow, seven." My instinctual ease around children comes out in full force. "What is your favorite thing to do now that you're so grown up?"

They all beam, and Violet chimes in. "We're learning how to ride the horses."

"And!" Ash cuts her off. "Mom is letting us help with barn chores."

"Is she now? You must be extra good if she's letting you help with such a hard job." They light up again.

"Hey, how about we all head downstairs? It smells like someone is making breakfast."

"That's Uncle Sweets," Olive says. "He came and got us this morning."

So, this is my task. I laugh to myself. He picked the wrong thing if he planned on shocking or overwhelming me. My sole purpose in life has been working with kids. This is going to be a breeze.

The three of us stroll down the stairs. Olive is riding piggyback, and Ash and Violet cling to my hands. Soren's jaw drops at the sight of us. I get an indescribable amount of satisfaction from seeing that lumbering ogre slack-jawed .

His plans to either overwhelm or test me are failing. Or I'm getting a perfect score. Either way, for the first time since being in this strange place, I'm confident, like myself once more.

A reminder of who you are is a powerful tool.

"Good morning, Uncle Sweets," I say, saccharine, then look over my shoulder at Ash. "Why do you call him that, by the way?"

Ash giggles, pulling me down to whisper in my ear, "Because all the aunties and uncles call him that. He loves treats."

"Does he now?" I whip my head back to Soren, who's fidgeting, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet. "What are you making for breakfast then, Uncle Sweets? A pie, perhaps?"

"Pancakes," he huffs, then rights himself, brushing off whatever anger I might have provoked and settling his face back to the impenetrable shield of confidence and mischief. "These three love pancakes almost as much as I do." He comes over, and takes Olive, scooping her into his arms. "Would you all like to help me make them?"

An enormous cheer rings out from their tiny voices, and complete chaos ensues.