There was wrongness in the air. A sourness. The smell of grass growing around a poisoned well. The viscount’s mansion had been built by the ocean which made it look like a skull that had been washed onto the beach. Fat storm clouds hung heavily over the beach turning everything grey and cold.

This was what a master vampire’s nest would become.

Little Ant was surprised to see that the window she had thrown the letter through was still broken. Did humans not take care of their homes? That would be an advantage when they snuck inside. What better way into a fortress than an already broken window?

“What a horrid place.” Old Badger said while lying next to her.

“It looked… better when I delivered your message.” Little Ant said.

Better but not good. The mansion was still a prison built by the Path of Civilization. A monstrous cancer that demanded a constant stream of blood, sweat and tears to be maintained and make the lord of the mansion comfortable. How could someone like the viscount be happy there?

“He should have been born a goblin.” Little Ant said.

“Who?” Grandmother asked.

“The viscount.”

“Are you sure?” Grandmother asked and then smelled the air: “I think the vampire brought his ghouls with him. Do you see them?”

Little Ant grimaced when she realized that Old Badger didn’t see that far. A goblin whose eyes started to go never lasted long. How many years did grandmother still have ahead of her? How many of them would be worth living?

She pushed the thought out of her mind and concentrated on the task at hand.

Keeping in mind what she had learned at Cobbler’s Hold, Little Ant looked around the mansion and spotted them. The master vampire’s honor guard. Vampires reduced to mindless ghouls by being away from The Wyrding for too long. They were lying in shallow graves, waiting to strike at anyone who got too close or ventured too far from the mansion’s protection.

“Yes.” Little Ant said.

“Good. Now, how many people are there?” Old Badger asked.

Staring intently at the windows, she waited to see any movement.

“I see… the viscount.”

It was a painful sight. Seeing the viscount standing by the window, looking lost and confused. Right now, he was smaller than a goblin child.

“And Nuncio’s sister?”

The sister… Elysa… was easy to recognize when Little Ant saw her pass a window. She was unmistakably Nuncio’s sister. The same thick, curly hair. The same heart-shaped mouth. The same mole under the dark eyes.

“I see her. I also count… five… six… eight servants.” Little Ant said.

Hearing that made grandmother mouth a curse under her breath.

“Grandmother…”

“Yes?” Old Badger said without looking at her.

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“What are we going to do about the serving girls? We should be able to sneak out the viscount and Nuncio’s sister but… eight more people?”

Old Badger sighed.

“We’ll worry about it when the time comes. Right now, we will wait.”

Little Ant’s stomach twisted into knots when she wondered if the fox prince’s plan had ever included saving the serving girls. How vile was the Path of Civilization if it made even someone like His Savage Highness forget about people who didn’t stand as tall as him?

Suddenly, a shiver ran down Little Ant’s back.

“… grandmother… I see him.” Little Ant whispered.

“I feel him.” Grandmother said in return.

He was standing by the window, looking around his domain like a great hunting bird searching for prey. The master vampire. A King of the Dark. Pietro Capello.

It made her feel nauseous seeing how much he looked like his children even with the Graveyard King’s curse having changed him. But there was none of Nuncio’s shy courage in him. Just bottomless greed that turned even his beauty into something horrid. A man like that would burn anything he couldn’t own to the ground. Men like Pietro Capello would always destroy what they couldn’t possess.

“… do you think… he knows were here?”

“No.” Grandmother said but didn’t sound as sure as Little Ant would have liked.

They lied in the grass and waited until the master vampire closed his window and drew the curtains. A relieved sigh passed grandmother’s lips.

“We will wait here until nightfall. Once the vampire moves, so will we.” Grandmother said.

Little Ant nodded.

Paradoxically, vampires tended to be at their most dangerous during the day. When they knew they were vulnerable, they were at their most cautious. Weary of any sound or movement. Ready to strike at anyone who got too close. A jumpy predator.

The weakness that came with having too much power.

You forgot how to live with uncertainty and anything that made you feel nervous had to be destroyed with extreme prejudice. But during the night… a vampire would get overly confident. Arrogant. He would think he was untouchable and that would make him sloppy. Arrogance, no matter how earned, was always a weakness. Your foes were never more dangerous than when you thought they were weak.

When night came, they began sneaking closer to the house. As silently as only servants of the Quiet could be. They avoided the ghouls lying in dirt that were ready to strike like some deep-sea creatures that hunted by burrowing into the sand and attacking anything that swam by.

The smell of cooking reached Little Ant’s nose and she heard two women talking in the kitchen. She wondered if they should make their presence be known. To let them know that help was coming. Like she could read her thoughts, Old Badger put a paw on her shoulder and shook her head. Little Ant nodded to show she understood.

Then… the impossible happened.

Suddenly the kitchen window opened, and she was staring the head maid straight in the eyes. How… had a human spotted a servant of the Quiet? She went over in her head every step she had taken, trying to figure out a mistake somewhere. Some tiny slip that had given her away.

And she couldn’t think of one.

Which meant… she had been perfectly silent, and this human had still heard her coming. It was enough to rattle even grandmother who shivered when she looked the serving girl in the eyes. Eyes that were the color of shined wood.

Everything stopped when the maid looked at them and Little Ant could hear the gears turning inside the maid’s head.

“… Francesca? What is it?” Nuncio’s sister asked.

The maid… Francesca was quiet for a moment before winking at them and closing the window.

“I thought I heard something.” Francesca said.

When Little Ant could breathe again, she had to be careful not to heave and wheeze. It felt like crawling through the grass, thinking you were safe and out of sight only to come face to face with a leopard who had been waiting for you to come to it.

Old Badger gave her a slight nudge and Little Ant started moving again.

They headed over to the broken window that had only a curtain covering it. Who would have thought that a window she had broken weeks ago to deliver a message would come in handy again? After judging the distance, she started climbing towards the window. The mansion was old, and the walls were filled with small cracks and crevices for strong fingers to slip into. When Little Ant looked down, she was pleased to see Old Badger was able to keep up with her. She had to be practically blind in the dark of the night, but she could see with her paws. The old fingers could read the wall perfectly.

Once she was inside, she helped grandmother over the ledge, and she almost stumbled down from the climb. While grandmother was catching her breath and rubbing her chest, Little Ant looked at the room. It had the fox prince’s smell, and it was full of unnecessary things. Books he would never again touch. Shelves to house them. A bed to grow soft in.

Grandmother didn’t share her distaste and she looked at the room with an unnamed longing in her eyes.

“So… this is where he sleeps.” Old Badger said.

Before Little Ant could say anything, they heard the flapping of great wings and Old Badger pulled her down on the floor.

“Not a sound.” Grandmother whispered.

They lied very still on the floor while death on wings flew over them. When Little Ant dared to glance out of the window, she saw a giant bird flying away. Too big for it to be anything natural. Something like that could hunt humans for fun… and she didn’t doubt that it did.

Once grandmother was sure the vampire was gone, she stood up and helped Little Ant on her feet.

“Move but make no sound.” Old Badger said.

They moved through the mansion like two ghosts. Unseen and unheard. She could hear the maid… Francesca comforting Nuncio’s sister and a crying child. She could also sense others. More servants sleeping the terrified slumber of slaves.

“That woman who heard us…” Little Ant whispered: “Who was she?”

Old Badger just shook her head to show that there were things even she didn’t know.

When they arrived at the viscount’s room, located at a shouting distance from the fox prince’s, they entered without knocking.

The viscount was sitting in the corner, wrapped in a blanket like a child terrified of the dark. Being so close to him… smelling his terror… his fear… Fear was an insidious disease. One that spread quickly and killed your determination. How could they hope to oppose someone who had reduced even the strongest of them… into this?

Old Badger approached the viscount.

“Lionheart?” Grandmother said.

The viscount wrapped himself tighter inside his blanket. When he spoke, his voice was barely more than a hush.

“… I… you shouldn’t be here… my… my parents will get angry…”

Grandmother smiled her comforting smile and put her paws on the viscount’s cheeks.

“It will be alright. I promise. We’re here to help. Now, Lionheart, look into my eyes.”