Saving Fable

by Scott Reintgen

  She just hoped her destination would be Fable.

  When the most recent borealis had come and gone, Indira had decided to take matters into her own hands. Why wait for magical lights to choose her? She would train. She would outwork everyone else. She’d scrape and claw to become the character she knew she had always had the potential to be. Her talk with David had given her one more reason to fight.

  Indira’s run took her past shack after identical shack. At this point, she could close her eyes and still see the squat little buildings. Each home had a white door, always built into the left side of the structure. Every single roof slanted the same way, with the end above the door frame higher by just a few feet. Each building was only big enough for a bed, a small desk, and an even smaller bathing area.

  But the most important feature extended from the roof of the building: a rusted circle of metal, no bigger than a basketball. Unlit, the beacons didn’t look like much. Indira jogged by, noting cobwebs and discolorations on each of them. Every single character who lived in Origin knew that a lit beacon was their ticket out. When the Author Borealis came, a handful of characters were chosen. If the beacon above their shack glowed green, it was a sign that they had potential, that there might be a story brewing in the mind of an Author with room for a character like them.

  It wasn’t a guarantee they’d get into a story, but it was an invitation to the city where every great character eventually made their way—the city of Fable.

  Indira rounded the corner of their village and began a tough, uphill stretch. She enjoyed losing herself in the winding hills and trails. She tugged down the collar of her pink homespun shirt as she ran. Her one-handed war hammer bounced against her hip. She always ran with the weapon hanging from her belt loop, just in case she needed it.

  She reached the high point of their coastal valley—an empty hillside that offered her favorite view of Origin. It wasn’t much, but it was all she had ever known. She wiped sweat from her forehead and looked out over the scene.

  Waves crashed along the shore. Characters stood in front of their shacks—some she recognized and others she didn’t. It was almost impossible to make friends in Origin. Too much coming and going. By the time you knew someone’s name, they were heading somewhere else. About half the kids who came through ended up in Fable eventually. The rest were shipped out to working towns like the one David lived in.

  It took a few seconds to notice that the normal chaos of the town was absent this morning. Indira squinted. All the characters were standing at attention. That could only mean…

  Indira’s eyes flicked up to the distant sky.

  The gray clouds had given way to something bright, something far more hopeful. She saw the color blue first, spiraling out over the sea, followed by sapphire and periwinkle and fuchsia. The brightest, most impossible colors she’d ever seen: the Author Borealis had come.

  Indira’s chest heaved as bells started to ring. “No,” she said. “No, no, no…”

  It wasn’t possible. The borealis had come—it did that, sneaking into the sky as if it had always been there—but how had an emissary from Fable already arrived? That wasn’t possible!

  She started sprinting, desperate not to miss her chance. The bells continued ringing. The distant borealis crept over the ocean, making its way over the land. The colorful tendrils danced above the coastal shacks, draping the sky with the loveliest infusions of color.

  She nearly fell twice, taking steep corners far too quickly, but managed to reach the main row without more than a few bruises and scrapes. Other characters went wide-eyed as she came vaulting past them.

  In the distance, she saw a figure walking up the street. Like all the emissaries who had ever visited their town, the man looked as if he’d just come from a business meeting. A neat suit, a fine briefcase, a striped tie. He made his careful way down the rows as Indira sprinted, trying to get back to her shack in time. There were flashes of bright green on her left and right.

  Beacons were lit. Characters had been chosen!

  Ahead, the emissary had paused right in front of her shack. He removed a clipboard and was noting something to himself. Hearing Indira’s approaching footsteps, he looked up.

  Indira was too breathless to say anything. From all her frantic running, but also because of the sight of the little beacon glowing above her shack. She had actually been chosen this time. David’s prediction had come true. She was going to Fable. She stared at it, mouth hanging open, for several seconds.

  Until another surprise knocked the breath from her lungs.

  Peeve Meadows was standing in front of Indira’s shack as if she lived there.

  That was where Indira should have been standing.

  There was a brief and terrible moment where Indira thought she’d simply gotten the count wrong. In all the confusion, maybe she’d mistaken Peeve’s house for her own. But a glance over Peeve’s shoulder showed Indira a familiar unmade bed, all the books she’d borrowed from the library. It was definitely her shack. Peeve was trying to steal her chance.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” she asked.

  Peeve avoided eye contact, shifting the weight of her packed guitar to the opposite shoulder as she stared instead at Fable’s emissary.

  Indira shook her head. “Seriously? Peeve, you know this is my shack.”

  The emissary finally looked up and took in the scene. “Hello there. Dexter DuBrow, emissary of Fable. I’m sorry, but what’s going on here?”

  Indira’s fingers itched for her hammer. Instead she pointed. “Peeve is standing in front of my shack. She must have seen the beacon light up. She’s trying to steal my invitation.”

  Dexter considered both of them. “Is that true?”

  Peeve shrugged. “No, sir, I’m not sure what she’s talking about.”

  “No?” Indira asked angrily. “How many houses are you from the end of the row?”

  Peeve started to glance to her left, but Indira snapped her fingers.

  “Without looking, Peeve. Go ahead. If this were really your home, you’d know.”

  Indira felt a moment of guilt as Peeve’s cheeks turned bright red. The girl glanced down at her feet, no doubt trying to remember the houses she’d never bothered to count, because Peeve had only lived there for a few months. She hadn’t been there for years as Indira had…

  “You’d know it’s number seventeen from this end.” Indira pointed east. “And you’d know it’s number two hundred eighty-nine from that end. I know that because it’s my house, Peeve. I’ve lived here long enough, waited long enough, to be chosen to go to Fable. You won’t steal that from me.”

  Peeve withered, hearing that. The girl pulled the strap of her guitar over one shoulder and skulked back to her own shack. A thousand knots in Indira’s stomach loosened as she took her rightful place in front of the lit beacon.

  “Good monologue,” Dexter said. “I’m noting that. Your name?”

  “Indira,” she said. “My name is Indira Story.”

  He nodded. “Okay, I’ve got you noted for that little speech, but I’ve also noted that you were absent from your post. A potentially unreliable narrator? If you had been on time, after all, wouldn’t we have avoided this whole scene?”

  Indira stared. “I mean…I was just going for a run….”

  He wrote that down too. “I have to finish my head count. When the bells stop ringing, meet me at the center of town. We’ve arranged travel for all the chosen characters.”

  Indira watched him walk away, and even her anger at Peeve couldn’t steal the joy of that moment. The Author Borealis had finally chosen her. Somewhere out there, an Author was writing a story that had room for a character like her in it.

  She was actually going to Fable.

  Grinning from ear to ear, she rushed back inside to pack her things.

  I
ndira closed the door to her little shack. She set a hand on the frame, picking one more time at the peeling paint, before steadying herself and walking through the ranks of other characters-in-waiting. What was her title now? If all went to plan, she supposed she was about to become a character-in-training. The thought had her heart beating faster than ever.

  Most of the characters who hadn’t been chosen were back at their everyday activities: trading breakfast rations or arguing about the best ways to get noticed by an Author. Indira saw Peeve sitting on her front stoop looking frustrated. She felt just a little guilty before remembering she wasn’t the one who had tried to lie her way into Fable.

  As she walked, Indira tried to look the other unchosen characters in the eye and nod encouragement to each of them. She knew from experience, though: it always hurt to watch another character head off for the place you were dreaming of going.

  The shacks grew fewer and fewer as she made her way to the town center. Origin’s “downtown” was just a gathering of hunchbacked old buildings, their frames distorted, once-bright colors faded.

  A pair of characters waited on one corner, standing in awkward silence. There was a pale redheaded boy wearing threadbare wizard robes. In front of him stood a rather tall girl with dark brown skin. She fluttered long lashes in Indira’s direction before pretending not to have looked.

  Indira walked over and took her place at the back of the group. It should have been exciting enough to be chosen, but Indira couldn’t help comparing herself to the other two chosen characters. The tall girl was really pretty. And the red-haired boy seemed so mysterious. She’d been chosen, sure, but how could she make it in a story with competition like this?

  Indira forced herself to take a deep, steadying breath. I was chosen, she reminded herself, I belong here just as much as they do.

  A few minutes passed as they waited for the emissary—Dexter DuBrow—to join them. The girl with the long eyelashes looked back a few times but always turned away, tapping an impatient foot. Indira noticed the redheaded boy sneaking a glance back too. Even though his bangs covered his forehead, they weren’t so low that Indira couldn’t see his eyes. She hadn’t noticed before, but now she couldn’t stop noticing. His irises smoldered with actual flames.

  For some reason, Indira liked him immediately.

  She reached out and tapped his shoulder. “Hey, what’s your name?” she asked.

  The floodgates opened.

  “I’m Phoenix. Like the bird. The fire bird. With fire.”

  He thumbed the sleeve of his robe nervously. She smiled a little and guessed that maybe he hadn’t talked with other characters very often. “Just Phoenix?”

  He shrugged. “Got nervous. Forgot to ask for a last name. What about you?”

  “Indira Story.”

  The girl swung around at that. “I love that name. Say it again.”

  Indira gave her a funny look. “Indira Story.”

  “I could just melt,” the girl announced, batting her long eyelashes. “I really could. Indira. That name sounds like a fashion statement. If you were a style, I’d wear you. Not even kidding.”

  Indira stared back, unsure how she should respond. Phoenix came to her rescue.

  “And, you—what, uh—what’s your name?” he asked the other girl.

  “Maxine Maydragon,” she answered, all confidence. “But my friends call me Maxi.”

  “Friends?” Indira asked.

  “Well, that’s obvi. You two!”

  Maxi slid one arm around Phoenix’s shoulder. He looked profoundly uncomfortable in her grasp, but the pose didn’t last long. Maxi let out a little gasp and released him.

  “You’re like hot lava!”

  He held out one hand, and an actual flame flickered into his palm.

  “That’s kind of what I do.”

  Maxi thought that was just the coolest thing in the world. Indira was about to say that she thought it was really cool too, but a gasp of dust came shooting out of the nearest alleyway. Peeve Meadows sprinted around the corner. “Wait! I’ve been chosen too! Wait!”

  Indira watched as the poor girl’s foot caught on the uneven cobblestones. It all happened in slow motion. Peeve sprawled through the air, golden hair flying out, a face-plant inevitable. Indira’s instincts took over.

  In less than a breath, she dove forward. Her path intercepted Peeve’s. She wrapped her hands around the girl and at the same time began twisting, angled so that her back struck the cobblestones. Peeve’s weight came slinging around on top of her. As the dust settled, Indira knew the worst had been avoided. She was a little out of breath and would probably have a bruise, but neither of them had been hurt badly. Peeve rolled to one side.

  And that was when Maxi exploded with excitement. She thought it was just, like, the coolest thing she’d ever seen. Phoenix raised a single, curious eyebrow that had Indira blushing.

  “Thanks,” Peeve muttered. “That was a close one.”

  “No problem,” Indira said. “I’m not sure how I did that. Good instincts, I guess.”

  “Good instincts indeed,” a voice said. The crew looked up as Dexter DuBrow rounded a corner. He was still scribbling busily away in his notebook. “I’ll note those as well!”

  The group shuffled together, trying to form a more organized line. Indira saw Dexter look up long enough to assess the group. He nodded at each of them, glancing back at his notes, before his eyes fixed on Peeve. He frowned. “You again? I thought we discussed this….”

  Peeve’s nostrils flared in frustration. She pointed a stubborn finger back to the cliffs above them. Indira traced the distant houses, no bigger than dots from below, and saw two glowing beacons where she knew her little shack stood.

  “I don’t know why it was late,” Peeve said. “But I’m coming to Fable too.”

  Dexter glanced at his notes. “That’s not…the only reason…Let me check something.”

  They all waited as he flipped through his satchel. It seemed to hold an endless amount of half-crumpled documents. Indira glanced at Peeve and felt bad for her. The girl was sweating nervously. Even if she had tried to cheat Indira, it wasn’t hard to imagine the heartbreak of being chosen only to be rejected on a technicality. What if Dexter didn’t let her come?

  “Ah!” Dexter held up a finger. “Very well. It seems you are coming, by a different road. Very rare, but I’ll explain all that later. Well, that’s settled. We have four departures prepared.”

  Peeve let out a massive sigh of relief. Indira watched the emissary dig through his bag again. He pulled out a square tile of flawless glass—and Indira couldn’t help noting that it was far too large to fit inside the satchel. Dexter set the glass down carefully on the flattest surface he could find. When he had it positioned just so, he politely knocked on it. Indira thought that was a really strange thing to do, until a knock answered back. The clear glass filled with color—a gorgeous turquoise.

  “What is that?” Maxi asked.

  “Dragoneye,” Dexter replied. “As I mentioned before, my name is Dexter DuBrow. The official welcoming party. Congratulations on being chosen by the Authors. Fable welcomes you with open arms. All of you will be meeting up with your mentors before visiting the city. The dragoneye is the fastest way to your various destinations.”

  A dark slit opened in the square’s center. Indira thought she heard a distant rumble as the bright blue parted like a curtain. No, she realized, like an eyelid. A great marble of an eye was staring out from the tile. Patterns of gold wove like bright rivers through a backdrop of forest green. A voice spoke from somewhere deeper than stones or bones.

  “Come now,” it boomed. “I haven’t all day.”

  Dexter clapped his hands together. “It’s very simple. Step onto the glass and answer the question. You’ll be whisked away to your proper location straightaway. Phoenix is firs
t.”

  Indira watched her new friend situate himself carefully atop the glass. He took a steadying breath and nodded over at the emissary. The deep and booming voice sounded again.

  “Why are you sweating?”

  Phoenix glanced back, eyes locking briefly on Indira. “I’m nervous, I guess.”

  Indira’s stomach did a backflip. The answer was as surprising as Phoenix’s sudden absence. The great eye winked shut, and her new friend vanished.

  “What the what?” Maxi cried.

  “He just teleported!” Peeve shouted. “This is amazing!”

  Dexter gestured for Maxi to come forward next. The girl looked like a queen, her chin tilted as if she owned the world. The great blue eye opened beneath her feet.

  Indira was so excited by the prospect of teleporting to some other place that she missed the question the dragon asked. One second Maxi was there; the next second she was gone.

  At Dexter’s signal, Indira stepped onto the square. Excitement raced through her. She was really going to Fable. A quick image of David leaped into her mind. She thought he would be proud of her. It felt strange to leave him behind, but deep down she knew she wasn’t really leaving him. She was going to start a new life. She’d find a story big enough for both of them.

  Indira looked down as the great dragon eye opened for a third time.

  “If you could be any animal, what would you be?”

  Indira shrugged. “Anything that flies.”

  * * *

  Now we must pause, dear reader.

  I must ask you a rather demanding favor. I would like for you to hold your breath. Go ahead. The story won’t vanish. Indira will be right where you left—well, not quite where you left her, but that’s a minor detail. So hold your breath and count to fifteen. I’ll wait….

  …All right. Did you feel your heart start to pump and your lungs start to burn and your brain start to protest? Well, that’s exactly how Indira felt as the dragoneye sucked her right up. She heard the quietest whisper, saw a flash of blue, and felt a gentle, chest-centered tug.