C16 SIXTEEN

Every Tempest

SAM

If after every tempest come such calms,

May the winds blow till they have waken'd death!

— William Shakespeare, Othello

CONSCIOUSNESS CAME SUDDENLY, with abrupt awareness of pain. Roots dug into my arms and legs, holding me against the rock wall of a cave.

Some wrapped around my torso, but my head was free, my neck still mobile. I scanned the cave for any sign of the Beast