Fable City

By S. L. Gavyn

“You will fall in love soon.”
I lifted a brow at him. “Let me guess, I’ll come into a large sum of money too.”
His smile didn’t falter. “I don’t know about your finances, but I do know he is powerful, the most powerful in this city—a god among men, if you will.”

Raised by strangers in rural Oklahoma, Zade Wilson would do anything to escape her mundane life, or so she thought. When her wish causes an accident on the highway, she is brought face to face with opportunity and doesn’t let it get away from her.
Now, in a new city with millions of strange, new people, she is still trying to find out where she belongs. It doesn’t take long for her to figure out there is something different about the residents in Fable City and that she is more like them than she ever could have imagined. But something sinister is happening to the inhabitants of her new home, and she finds herself in desperate need to learn what kind of Fabled she is and how to use her abilities. Lucky for her, there happens to be a God who wouldn’t mind helping her out.
Together they must find who is taking the Fabled and stop them, but things are not always what they seem in Fable City.

• Language: English
• Publisher: S. L. Gavyn
• Release date: Jul 14, 2015
• ISBN: 9781311701787

S. L. Gavyn

S.L. Gavyn lives in Mobile, Alabama with her husband, three children, two dogs, two betta fish, one guinea pig, and a tree frog that hangs out in her bathroom shower. She tries to write fantasy novels that are funny, interesting and adventurous with just the right amount of romance worked in. You can find her blogging about her books and various other things at slgavyn.wordpress.com.

Book preview

Chapter One

"If wishes were horses, beggars would ride"

Sometimes, I wondered if it was possible to just go into a permanent stasis brought on by intense boredom. My entire life has been one big repetitive routine. I rose in the morning, fed the chickens and collected the eggs, milked our Guernsey, then returned to the kitchen to cook for my father and three brothers. From there, the day was a mixture of household and farm chores until evening.

As it was, I was in the pasture dropping hay bales for the cows. Father was once again drunk as a skunk, passed out in the recliner. If the cows didn’t get fed, it would somehow be my fault, so I had learned to just automatically do his work for him when he was like this. Part of me really wanted to hate him for his treatment of me, but part of me felt sorry for him. After all, he had lost his wife in childbirth and was left to raise a child who wasn’t his. Oh, it had never come out that my mother had any kind of affair, but all I had to do was take a look in the mirror, and the evidence was literally written all over my face.

I was the complete opposite of my father and all my brothers, even my mother had looked nothing like me. They were all of Native American descent. Where they have dark hair, eyes, and complexion, I have fair skin, blonde hair, and blue eyes. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that mama had her hand in someone else’s cookie jar. I just wished she could have stuck around long enough to tell me who my father really was. Instead, I was stuck in this hellhole with a man who was really no relation to me and his sons who, at best, are my half-brothers. Maybe I was switched at birth. That would make more sense than my mom having an affair no one knew about and her child looking nothing like she did.

I stopped and watched the cars driving by on the interstate that bordered the other side of the field before throwing another bale from the back of the truck. I wanted to scream from the injustice of it. I didn’t want to be here anymore. I hadn’t wanted to be here since I was eight years old and my brother called me an alien baby for the first time. That was when I truly realized I was different; I didn’t belong, and no one wanted me.

I bent over and put my hands on my knees. The weight of my hatred at this cosmically fucked-up world was more than I could bare. I wanted out. How could I get out? Though I wasn’t allowed to attend school, I had taken online classes to gain my MBA in business as well as to become an RN. I thought my degree was the ticket to freedom, but still I had no real options.

I stood back up and looked to the sky before screaming at the top of my lungs. Once I finished, I took a breath before yelling, I just wish I could get out of this place! I don’t belong here!

I slapped my hand over my mouth. What was I thinking? I knew better than to say stuff like that aloud. I could think it all I wanted but never say it aloud—never.

I heard wheels screeching, and I looked up in time to see an eighteen wheeler jackknife in the middle of the freeway. The SUV beside it was pushed off the road and began flipping. The front of the semi slammed into the side of a truck, and it wrapped around the front bumper. Two cars behind the semi couldn’t stop fast enough, and the small coupe actually ran under the back of the trailer while the luxury car hit the back corner, and the entire front end was crushed.

I was running through the field before I knew what I was doing. The back of the semi was closest, so I approached the coupe that had run under the trailer. The entire roof was flattened and front windshield pushed back. My virtual trainer from my RN class popped into my head and told me to save those I could and let God save the ones I couldn’t, so I ran around to the man in the luxury car. He had a head injury that was bleeding, but otherwise, didn’t have any visible injuries.

Sir, can you hear me? I asked as I opened his door.

Um…yeah.

Can you feel your arms and legs?

He nodded slightly. I grabbed his suit coat that had been thrown over the gear shifter and put it to his head. Hold this here to minimize the bleeding. Do you have a cell phone?

He reached for the center console, and I helped him open it and pull his phone out. You’ll have to unlock it so I can call the police.

He unlocked it, and I made the call, letting the dispatcher know to bring in every EMT within a thirty-mile radius and that life flight would likely be needed, which meant they would need to call them in from nearby Guthrie; then, I gave him his phone back, told him to just stay there and await the police, and went to check on the other victims.

I came to the semi driver next, and he, too, was only banged up without any major injuries. The driver of the truck had an obviously broken leg, and by the sound of his breathing, a rib had punctured his lung. I couldn’t do more than help him lean against the passenger door and rip my flannel shirt and tie it on his arm, which was cut pretty deeply.

Then I ran for the SUV. I prayed that there were no children in that vehicle. I would have enough to atone for once this day was done without having the death of a child on my conscience.

I approached the driver and had to choke back tears. It looked like he was dead before the vehicle ever stopped rolling. I checked the passenger and back seats and sent a prayer of thanks that they were empty.

I turned back to look at the carnage my wanting had caused. Several of the drivers of the cars backed up along the interstate were out of their cars attempting to help the victims who were able to be helped, and I could see the flashing lights in the distance, so I lowered myself to the side of the road, pulled my knees up to my chest, and rested my head on them.

What was I thinking? No amount of suffering on my part was worth all this. I knew better than to make wishes to the heavens. They never brought anything but pain and suffering. Now I have these deaths on my hands.

Are you all right?

I looked up at who had spoken and found a man standing over me. He looked to be in his mid-forties with balding hair and glasses.

I’m fine. I wasn’t in the accident, I told him.

Oh. Why did you come here then?

I heard the accident and ran over to see if I could help.

You heard it? From where?

Why did he care where I was? I was in the field over there feeding the cows. I pointed to my parked truck.

Why in the world would you be feeding cows?

Because my father’s too drunk to feed them.

He looked confused by that but then stuck out his hand. I’m Corbin Shea.

I just looked at the hand. I didn’t like touching people, especially people I didn’t know. Or those I did know. Thinking back, I couldn’t recall the last time I actually touched someone, anyone.

Zade Wilson, I replied.

He pulled his hand back. Zade. Isn’t that a boy’s name?

Do you know many boys named Zade?

He smiled. No, I can’t say that I do. Do you mind me asking why you’re feeding cows in the middle of nowhere?

What else would you do in the middle of nowhere?

He laughed. It’s just that you don’t look like the type to be living on a farm.

I looked down at my worn jean, boots, T-shirt, and flannel jacket. If I didn’t look like a farmer, then I didn’t know what one looked like.

I’m not referring to your attire, he clarified.

What are you referring to exactly?

He pointed to his head. I’m talking about what is in here.

I’ll have you know that most farmers are very adept at what they do. You have to be to be able to keep everything on schedule. Forget one thing and the results could be disastrous. But to answer your question, you’re right. I don’t belong here. I would presume that’s what brought you to me today.

He seemed pensive for a moment before nodding. Since it seems it will be some time before I can move on from here, do you know of somewhere we might talk that is less—he looked around at all the carnage and the paramedics scrambling around helping the injured—distracting?

Distracting. Yeah, that was one way to say it. If you can pull your car off the road, I’ll take you to the only café in town.

He nodded before turning back toward his car. I got up and started walking to my truck. Normally I wouldn’t even think about letting a stranger into my vehicle, but he was here because of me. It was my doing that messed everything up and brought him to a halt in front of me. I might as well listen to what he had to say. It was probable that our destinies were combined now. May God help him.

Chapter Two

"Opportunity knocks once while temptation bangs forever"

Do you intend to talk or are we sitting in this fine establishment for nothing? He looked around the Pancake Home, which was the only place to eat in town other than the local buffet.

I looked at him, confused. What exactly would you like me to say? I wasn’t sure why, but I thought he would be the one doing the conversing at this meeting.

Okay, why did you kill those people?

I jerked back like he’d slapped me. How did he know it was my fault? How could I possibly explain myself so that he didn’t think I was a total freak?

I wasn’t even close to the interstate when the accident happened. What makes you think it’s my fault? Maybe it was the neon sign with the word guilty pointing toward my forehead.

He just looked at me for a minute before he rolled his eyes. I thought you wanted my assistance. I guess I was wrong. Good day to you, Zade.

I was sure my eyes were the size of quarters as I stammered to say something that would keep him from leaving. The truth seemed like the best course of action. At worst, he’d still leave. At best, he wouldn’t think I was a lunatic.

I-I didn’t mean to. I just want out of here. I didn’t know that would happen. I never wanted to hurt anyone. You have to believe me.

He eyed me again for a moment. Tell me what you did.

I wasn’t sure if he thought I was insane or what, but I was sure he would think it once I was finished. I just wished to get out of here. I want it so badly I can taste it. I don’t belong here.

He sighed. Truer words have never been spoken.

Huh? What did he think was true about my statement?

Do you have belongings you would like to gather before we depart? he asked before I could question his previous statement.

Um, yes. I would like my laptop. My computer was my safety net and had been for a very long time. I didn’t think I would have survived without that small connection to the outside world.

The only highlight of my days was the nights spent doing online classes. My father would never have agreed to me gaining a degree in anything, but luckily, my brother Tate liked to surf the Internet, watching porn and YouTube videos. So several years ago, he began using money from his part-time job to pay for Internet service. Of course, they didn’t provide high-speed Internet this far out in the boonies, but any Internet was better than none. It was my one connection to the outside world.

The first thing I did once I had Internet access was to take the money I had been saving since I had turned twelve and started cleaning the house of our local doctor to buy a small laptop during one of our annual trips to Oklahoma City. I had secreted my computer away because I wasn’t allowed to use anything that might bring me into contact with life outside of this little section of hell I currently resided in.

Our local high school offered GED night classes, and once a month, a professor from the University of Oklahoma came and allowed residents to take the GED test. I couldn’t actually attend the classes, just as I wasn’t allowed to actually go to school, but I signed up to take the test. Once I had earned my GED, I applied for a Pell grant, and since my father didn’t work very much—at least not at a legitimate job—was approved for a full grant. Of course, I had to take online courses because I didn’t have transportation to attend the closest college, which was over two hours away.

Over the last six years, I had managed to obtain an MBA as well as become a registered nurse with a secondary degree in trauma. What was the point in these degrees you might ask? Hell if I knew. I just thought I might go insane if I was forced to stay here for much longer. A business degree seemed like the most practical for gaining employment in a city, which is where I planned to go from here. If I never saw another cow in my life, I would consider it a blessing.

Where are we going?

You said you wanted out of here, Corbin said.

I do. But I don’t want to end up in some sweatshop in Mexico or something. I shuddered at the thought of where I could be. It was hard to imagine, but there actually were worse places.

We will not be leaving the US, Zade.

Uh, okay. What about the sweatshop part?

He cocked his head to the side. I don’t believe the US allows sweatshops inside its borders.

I narrowed my eyes. Was he fucking with me?

He huffed. Listen, I was supposed to be back home already. Instead, I’m sitting here with a woman oblivious to the world around her. You can accompany me, and I will assure you I have no devious plans regarding your well-being, or you can stay here and carry on as you always have. He shrugged. The choice is yours.

With that, he rose from the table, reached into his back pocket, and pulled out a bill before placing it on the table, nodded to me and walked away.

I sat in stunned silence as I watched him retreat. What was that saying about opportunity knocking only once? I was out of the booth and had caught up to him before he reached the sidewalk.

I’ll drive us back to my father’s home and grab my laptop. Then we can return to your car.

Very well, Zade. He turned to look at me and for the first time actually smiled.

I didn’t know this man, but I knew with him came my destiny. Now, I just had to find it. Hopefully, I wouldn’t cause any more chaos for a while.

As I pulled up in front of the old wood-siding house I grew up in, I couldn’t help thinking it looked different than before. Maybe it was because for the first time, I wasn’t imagining it as my prison but as my past.

I parked the truck and turned to Corbin. I’ll just be a minute.

Take your time. I’m sure there are some good-byes you would like to make.

Good-byes? Right, probably more like good riddance, both on my part and on my father’s and brothers’. They would no longer have to hide the skeleton in the closet, and I would no longer have to pretend I didn’t hate every moment of my existence while here with them.

As I walked into the house, the first thing I smelled was cheap whiskey. It was as though the house was bathed in the scent. It brought me back to one of my earliest childhood memories of being thirsty. I was hungry too, but that was a given. After all, I wasn’t old enough to cook my meals, and no one else was going to do it. This particular time I was more thirsty than hungry, and my father, as usual, was passed out in his recliner—the one we had to throw away after it caught fire from a lit cigarette he passed out with.

I remember looking at the sink and how high it was; then I remember looking at the table beside my father’s chair and the half-full bottle sitting on it. The smell was pungent as I took a drink, but I didn’t care. That was my first taste of alcohol, and it burned so badly going down my throat I dropped the bottle on the floor and proceeded to cough my lungs up. My coughing fit woke my father. He took one look at the bottle pouring out on the floor before looking at me with hatred in his eyes. That was the first time he struck me too, but not the last by far.

It was soon after that incident that I began working on becoming completely self-sufficient. I think I was two or three, but I knew even then if I didn’t do it, no one would, and as God was my witness I would never go hungry—or thirsty—again.

I ignored my father lying on the couch and headed straight for my room. Grabbing my old backpack, I started stuffing clothes in it. I didn’t have much, but there was no sense in leaving it here. Once I had everything in my bag, I reached under the bed and pulled out the box I had stolen out of my father’s room. It was an old jewelry box about a foot and a half wide by a foot long and three inches deep. All the separators had been removed from the inside, and I kept several photos in it. I had removed the ones I didn’t want and only kept a few of my mother. Most were from when she was younger, but one was of her as an adult, and she had the most beautiful smile on her face.

The picture was taken outside of a house with a huge picture window, and as it had been taken, the flash had caused the reflection of the man taking the picture to show up in the window. Of course, it was hard to make out, but it was obvious the man had light-colored hair, and he was smiling too. Perhaps this was the guy my mother was running around with. It seemed likely since no one saw her with anyone, but I was definitely not my father’s daughter.

There was enough room in the box for my laptop and cords, and that was where I had been storing them. I grabbed my small stash of money from the loose floorboard and put it in with my laptop. Once I had gotten the box and my backpack, I was ready to leave. I didn’t bother looking back at the room I grew up in. There weren’t any good memories in that room. There weren’t any good memories in this entire house. No wonder my mother looked for affection from another man.

I looked at my father still asleep on the couch, then turned and walked out the front door. A thought crept in, and I couldn’t help but smile. I could just imagine my father’s and brothers’ faces this evening when they realized I wasn’t there to cook their supper. I also knew with almost complete certainty that I would never see them again and didn’t really want to. They had made enough of my life miserable. It was time to move on.

Corbin was still sitting in the truck, seeming to not care how long it took me to get ready. I saw him put away a cell phone as I started to get in.

Ready? I asked.

He looked like he was going to say something then stopped and just nodded. I think he was surprised I was back so quickly, but I didn’t really want to go into detail about my relationship with that man and his sons.

I headed back to where his car was parked and pulled up behind it. I didn’t bother to take the keys out of the ignition. No one would steal this piece of junk anyway, and it wouldn’t be too long before my father or one of my brothers spotted it. We transferred vehicles, and before I knew it, were on our way heading north.

Corbin didn’t seem like a big talker. He was pretty content with driving with the radio turned down too. That was about enough to drive me nuts. It was either turn up the tunes or start a conversation. Since I knew absolutely nothing about where we were going or who I was going there with, I decided conversation seemed like the best course of action.

So, um, not to sound like I’m nagging or anything, but where are we going?

Fable City.

Fable City! Oh my God. That was about as opposite of where I had grown up as you could get. I’d read about it as well as all the other major cities in the US. It was one of the most populated with just over five million residents. Sitting at the base of Lake Michigan, it had big industry via the ports as well as the headquarters for multiple billion-dollar businesses.

What was I going to do in such a big city? On one hand, it was good that we were going to such a metropolis. It would be easier for me to find work and, hopefully, cheap lodging. On the other hand, I had never been to such a big city. Sure I’d seen Oklahoma City, but only a few times and only for a short period each time. I was merely a visitor, not a resident. The thought had my stomach in knots and butterflies fluttering in it at the same time.

Don’t worry, Zade. You’ll be fine,

Am I that transparent? I know. I’m just excited. And nervous, but mostly excited.

He grinned at me. You’ll fit in just fine.

I smiled back. I really hoped he was right. So, what do you do for a living?

I work for a large company there. I do mostly PR work.

They wouldn’t be hiring by chance, would they?

He shrugged. That would be a question for HR, not PR.

Right. I guess I’ll find out soon enough. What was a public relations person for a corporation in Fable City doing in Oklahoma?

I had a business meeting.

In the middle of nowhere?

No. Actually I was on my way home and that’s just where I was waylaid by some random girl.

I bit my lip. I had screwed up so many people’s lives today. Now I was going to this city with millions of people in it. What if I did something to any of them? What would I possibly do there? I should have just stayed at home. Better that I was miserable than to make others that way.

Don’t worry. The missus says you can stay with us until you’re on your feet, Corbin said, pulling me out of my spiraling thoughts.

That’s very nice of her, but I’m sure I can find somewhere else. I wouldn’t want to put you out.

The truth was I didn’t want to hurt them by accident. He’s been really kind to take me with him, and I didn’t want to repay that kindness by killing him or burning down his house, or—

Stop worrying, Zade. Everything will be fine. I have every belief that you will like this city very much.

Um, I’m sure I will, but I would feel more comfortable staying on my own.

Why? Where will you stay?

At a motel or something. Maybe I can find a boardinghouse.

And there will be other people staying with you. How would that be more comfortable for you than staying with us?

Uh, I won’t know those people.

So, it will be okay for you to kill them?

What? No! I would never…not intentionally.

I know, Zade. My point is that knowing me and the missus will help you to control yourself. You can do things accidentally, but if you really don’t want something to happen, it won’t. Do you understand?

No. I don’t understand anything. I didn’t want those people hurt on the freeway, but I still caused it. I know I did.

Yes, you did. That is why you will need to watch yourself more closely. Tell me. If someone you care for was in one of those cars, do you think it would have happened?

I shrugged. I don’t have anyone I care about.

That’s absurd. Surely you care about your family.

I shrugged again and looked out the window.

After a couple of minutes of silence, he continued. We will work on your social skills then. I’ll not have you a sociopath.

I looked at him with my eyes wide. Is that what you think of me? Why would you bring me with you?

Of course not, although a sociopath does kill without recrimination and is unable to care about anyone. Does that sound familiar?

Oh my God. Is that what I was? Maybe I didn’t have the ability to care for anyone. I certainly didn’t care for that bastard that raised me or his sons.

Once again, I’ll say don’t worry. I don’t think you are a sociopath. I just think you have been in a very bad situation for a very long time. The accident on the freeway was just your plea for help. Desperate times and all that.

That’s the thing. I don’t even know how I did that. How can one person cause a six-car pileup with just a thought?

Ah, that is the question. Perhaps you would like to tell me about your family.

There’s not much to tell. My mother died giving birth to me, and my father raised me. I have three older brothers. My father’s a drunk who despises me because it’s obvious my mother had an affair and I’m the result of her adultery. My brothers never had any use for me other than to cook and clean for them. I pretty much raised myself from a very early age. Heck, I don’t see how I made it past infancy to tell you the truth.

Corbin was nodding as if understanding something. Do you know the whereabouts of your real father?

No clue. I’ve never even met the guy.

I see. Perhaps we can find out some information about him in Fable City.

Why would there be information about my father in Fable City?

"Oh, you can find out all kinds of