FABLE

Chapter Thirty Five

"It's right in front of you," a faint voice whispers in my left ear.

I snap my head to the side, but there's no one there. I swing around and look back into the forest behind me as a shiver trickles down my spine. All I can see are tree trunks, gnarled branches dripping with green, overgrown ivy thickets, shadowy nooks. If someone is out here with me, they could be hiding anywhere.

Don't be stupid. There's no one there. I'm just seeing things, like always.

I turn back to where Felix is sitting on the porch, watching me boredly across the clearing. A few seconds pass with me frozen in place by a fear I can't place, and Felix waiting still as a sphinx, measuring me with his stony gaze.

"I said, it's right in front of you," he says. "That's what you came for, right? Just take it and leave."

I look down at my feet. It takes me a moment to spot my BMX lying on its side in a tangle of mossy tree roots and leaves, just inches from where I'm standing.

Ok. I just need to grab my bike and get out of here. Get the bike and go. Easy.

Part of me wants to ask him why he even dragged my bike here in the first place. He could have just left it where he found it. He knew I'd go back for it. Maybe I just need to swallow my anxiety, march myself over to him and get everything off my chest. I'd feel much better knowing that I've explained to Felix why I'm backing out of the opportunity of a lifetime. Kitty could have told him absolutely anything, and I know I should make sure he knows the truth.

At the very least, I know I should say goodbye. I probably owe him that.

But I'm so tired of goodbyes.

I crouch down, avoiding Felix's piercing hazel gaze and trying not think about the phantom voice I heard behind me as I dust dried brown leaves off the bike. I'm about to grasp the handlebars when I notice something decidedly odd.

My bike is covered in a creeping carpet of moss.

Crusted around the pedals, and branching up along the saddle like a fine green embroidery. And it's not just moss - clumps of pale blue Forget-Me-Not flowers have sprouted up in the spaces between the front wheel's spokes. Countless dusty old spider webs glittering with dewdrops hang between the handlebars, the spokes, the brake. There's even a messy bundle of dried grass and leaves tucked in under the saddle, which looks a bit like an old field mouse nest.

This can't be real. Maybe I never woke up this morning.

I reach down to touch the cold, reassuring metal of the bicycle, and draw back my finger in pain.

A delicate rose branch has wound it's way around the metal bars, all thorns and small tightly-wound rose buds.

I watch as a small crimson drop wells up on my finger.

The red paint is cracking off all over the bike, replaced by silvery lichen and wet rust.

It's a wreck.

This can't be my bicycle. Decay like this doesn't happen overnight. This thing's been out here for years. Maybe even decades.

Then I notice the Disney princess stickers just below the saddle. Zee and I stuck them on when we were in a particularly silly mood one afternoon last summer, and that's where they've stayed, despite various attempts over the past year to peel them off.

Aurora and Ariel smile up at me, challenging me to doubt.

This is my bike.

Impossible.