Silence marked the beginning.
Sayori's fingers were sore from cleaning soot from the fireplaces, and she had just finished folding the final set of linens. The other staff members glided around her like shadows, their grins and eyes constantly scanning past her as they talked to one another.
The whisper followed.
"She's prepared."
She spun around, but nobody paid attention. They did nothing but wait.
"You're being summoned," Vess, the banshee girl, said as she took a step ahead.
"By whom?" Sayori's stomach clenched.
"Not by who," said Vess, flashing his pointed teeth in a grin. "By us."
They guided her downstairs.
beyond the root stores and cellars. past the tunnel entrances, where the chill from the mountains entered. Even lower, in ancient iron cages, torches spluttered over wet stone. This section of the mansion was no longer in use.
Or wasn't meant to be.
It was cooler outside. Watching, stale.
At a gate, they paused. Iron that has rusted and has runes etched into it.
Beyond it, darkness.
The twin elves advanced. They said in unison, "Fetch the jar."
"Which jar?" Sayori said, blinking.
"In the bone room. You'll recognize it when you see it." They didn't smile. The worst of it occurred then.
With a word in an ancient language, Vess unlocked the gate.
Sayori intervened.
She knew it wasn't simply a job the second the gate slammed shut behind her.
It was an examination.
The corridor was a narrow tunnel carved out of bare dirt. The odor of decay was strong. Despite the tremor in her limbs, her pulse remained steady as she pushed ahead.
As she walked by, the torches lit themselves. so they could see, not for her protection.
The shelves were filled with bones. Actual bones. little ones. There are too many of them. Some have teeth marks.
She didn't give herself time to overthink.
a podium at the end of the hall.
A jar was placed on top of it.
Red wax seals gold-etched black glass.
It seemed to have a heartbeat since it was beating softly.
When you see it, you will know it.
Sayori moved ahead and then stopped in her tracks.
A figure shifted behind the podium.
White fur and four legs.
A dog. But incorrect.
It had no eyes on its face. Its mouth was extended too far.
It kept an eye on her without really looking. It made no noise as it breathed.
She didn't flee.
Sayori moved forward slowly, her every stride increasingly unsteady. She moved despite her burning back and shaking hands.
The dog gave a wet, low growl that seemed to crawl through the floor.
She stooped down.
I picked up the jar.
The dog remained still.
Its head was slanted.
"I don't want to take this from you," she said in a low, even tone.
The dog blinked. Perhaps it was just put on hold.
She said, "I was instructed to bring it," but without arrogance or begging. "However, I'll return it if it's not mine."
Silence.
After that—
The dog fell to the ground.
Heart in her mouth, Sayori retreated without ever turning her back.
She went through the hall. Beyond the runes that blinked in silent wonder. Past the bones.
The others gave her a look as she came out holding the jar.
There was complete silence.
Not even Vess.
"Well," Thalen said quietly as he leaned against the archway, "I believe you passed."
Sayori's fingers were bleeding.
Her arms trembled.
However, when she spoke, her tone was composed.
"Where would you like it?"
Thalen interrupted as Vess reached for the jar. "I'll take it."
They made eye contact, but his expression was joyful while hers remained a mystery.
The rest of the group retreated, uneasy.
Sayori heard someone whisper it behind her as she turned to go back to work.
"Sayori."
Not "human."
Not "pet."
"thing," no.
a name.
The cursed Alpha of the North stood by the window in his high room as if he were listening in the gloom.
And he gave a smile.