Sometime during the night, Carling awoke with a start. The wind whistling around the tall building was causing the shutters outside her window to bang against the outside of the structure. Sure that that was what had awakened her, she rolled over and closed her eyes.
A few minutes later, however, she heard the latch of her door click. She held her breath and listened more closely. The hinges on her door squeaked quietly then stopped. Carling waited, her eyes wide open, staring at the wall beside her bed. Again, she heard a tiny squeak. Carling sat up in bed. In the shadows, she could just make out the outline of a bent-over Duende man…the innkeeper. She was sure of it. He was squeezing his body through the slight opening in the doorway.
“Who goes there?” said Carling, boldly.
Click Follow to receive emails when this author adds content on Bublish