Abigail D. Brown was like most eight-year-old girls her age:  creative, inquisitive, and precocious, though perhaps taller than some. She spent most of her summers exploring the woods behind her house. Her mother called it a “green space,” but to Abbie it was the forest, and if you called a forest by any other name, it lost some of its inherent magic. 

The early summer day began with a rainstorm that blanketed the town in a thick humidity unusual for Oregon. By midday, the humidity had b. . .

Abigail D. Brown was like most eight-year-old girls her age:  creative, inquisitive, and precocious, though perhaps taller than some. She spent most of her summers exploring the woods behind her house. Her mother called it a “green space,” but to Abbie it was the forest, and if you called a forest by any other name, it lost some of its inherent magic. 

The early summer day began with a rainstorm that blanketed the town in a thick humidity unusual for Oregon. By midday, the humidity had b. . .

Kadler awoke with a gasp. His face was burning, his head was throbbing; soot lined his mouth. A deep cough released a black plume around his head. Kadler snapped his cloak up to cover his face. “Where am I?” Kadler groaned as he struggled to remember anything. The ringing in his ears faded and was replaced by the deafening sound of crackling fire. His head pounded. He stole a glance from under his cloak. As far as he could see there were cells. Empty cells. As Kadler scrambled to make sense of. . .

Kadler awoke with a gasp. His face was burning, his head was throbbing; soot lined his mouth. A deep cough released a black plume around his head. Kadler snapped his cloak up to cover his face. “Where am I?” Kadler groaned as he struggled to remember anything. The ringing in his ears faded and was replaced by the deafening sound of crackling fire. His head pounded. He stole a glance from under his cloak. As far as he could see there were cells. Empty cells. As Kadler scrambled to make sense of. . .