The building stood at the top of a low hill at the edge of the mountains, south-west of Almewich, which was hidden from view by rocky outcroppings and the trees that covered the hillside.
Like the man in the inn had said, a low wall surrounded the building and a small copse of trees grew within its shadow.
Twisted and blackened trees with silvery leaves, healthier than most of the trees in the rocky hills, but still not quite right.
Hina resolved to steer clear of them. Her palm stung with half-remembered phantom pain, and she rubbed it absently as she walked up the path.
The structure itself loomed over Hina, a tall stone building that was almost a tower. Three rows of narrow windows ran up the front of the building, and wings of the building extended to either side, shorter than the main structure, but still tall enough to be imposing. A set of double-doors stood at the top of a short flight of steps. They looked like they was made for a giant, constructed from sturdy dark wood and banded with iron, they rose to twice the height of the door in Hina's childhood home.
The doors were closed.
All together, the building tickled Hina's memory of the Spire, though this one had none of the Spire's indications of age and ill-repair. For all that those hadn't extended to the inside.
Hina stared up at the doors for a long moment. It had been days of walking since Olivia had left her. Since she'd lost Kai.
He was in there, somewhere. He must be.
She didn't know what she would do if he wasn't.
Her sandals scuffed the hard-packed earth path as she walked up to the steps. The air was still and heavy, and the sky was a dull grey, the sun hidden behind the clouds.
She hesitated at the end of the hardened earth path—which started half-way up the hill, for some reason—and then climbed the stairs up to the door. Each step was just a little bit too high, and Hina took them one at a time, feeling the weight of her backpack and the weapons on her belt.
Her arm reached out towards the nearer of the two door-knockers, a distorted face at the end of the metal ring. And stopped short.
It was the right place, she could feel it down to her bones. A pull that she couldn't ignore. Like this place had a gravity all for her.
She fished the invitation out of her pocket and read the now-familiar words once again.
Something fell out to clatter onto the stone steps with a metallic tinkle. She bent down to pick up the greenish-metal token.
On one side, a walled tower. And on the other, a tree with twisted branches.
For some reason, she'd forgotten about the token until now. Hina didn't think Olivia had ever seen it. She held it in her hand, feeling the weight of it. The warmth. The depth of it within her ambit. A sick feeling welled up in Hina's stomach.
But there was nothing for it. Her hand reached out to the door knocker again.
Before her hand touched the metal, the door moved. It creaked open, swinging back into the darkness of the building before it stopped, leaving a gap just wide enough for Hina to slip through.
Through the opening, shadowy furniture could be seen in a dim room beyond. Cool air wafted out, carrying the scent of dust and rain and something else, a vegetal smell that Hina couldn't place.
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"Hello?" Hina whispered. She coughed and tried again, louder. "Is there anyone there?"
No answer.
Bean gave a low croak. His claws gripped her shoulder tightly, betraying a tension that Hina was beginning to recognise.
"No, no," Bean muttered, barely audible. "Bad, bad." He continued to mutter under his breath. His wings flapped, his feathers tickling Hina's neck.
"I know," Hina said, her voice barely above a whisper. "But I have to. Kai is in there."
Bean muttered something inaudible in response.
Hina hesitated on the threshold, and then shifted her weight to step inside. As she did, Bean's claws released her shoulder and he flapped up into the air with an alarmed caw.
Her heart lurched as she turned to see him fly up and out of sight. He cawed from high above, and then fell silent. Something in Hina's chest twisted in a hard knot. She was alone again.
Everyone had left her.
Hina looked back at the door. The open doorway like a half-open mouth, waiting to swallow her up.
But she couldn't go back. The only person she had left was in there. And she couldn't leave him. She couldn't live with herself if she did.
There was no other choice. She had to go in.
And standing here thinking about it wasn't going to make it any easier.
She held her breath and stepped inside. Half surprised to watch herself do it.
As she stepped over the threshold, the sense of pressure was immediate, a weight on her skin that echoed into her bones. It wasn't menacing, exactly, but it was oppressive. This space was not like the world outside. It belonged to something. And whomever it belonged to, they were watching.
It was much like she'd felt in the Spire, but amplified a hundredfold. And it made Hina feel like a mouse in a trap. If she could have flown away, she would have.
But Hina was here for a reason, she reminded herself. Her feet took another step forward, until her sandals stopped on a richly woven rug over a stone floor.
She looked up to a dim, square room with a high ceiling and stone walls. It was filled with clutter.
A faint sense of recognition thrummed through her. The unbearable presence faded down to a dull background hum while Hina's eyes adjusted to the dim light. Apparently Hina was not unwelcome here. Or that was the impression she got.
Polished wooden furniture filled the space, tables and cabinets scattered with loose items. A large mirror on the opposite wall reflected Hina and the doorway and the room and the dull grey sky of the world across the threshold.
The high windows next to the door were covered with heavy curtains, and the light didn't have any obvious source.
Paintings hung on the left and right walls, each with bright colours and strange shapes that Hina didn't look at too closely.
She hadn't expected to be let in so easily, not without at least talking to someone. She'd expected someone to be here. For that matter, who had opened the door? The House itself? Did it respond to the invitation, the token?
She didn't know, but she supposed it didn't matter. Kai was here, somewhere, and she needed to find him.
But he wasn't here. And neither was anyone else.
Hallways extended from the two far corners of the room, and a closed door stood under the mirror—a regular-sized door, not like the giant one that Hina had entered through.
Hina stood just inside the doorway. She wasn't quite sure what to do next.
She supposed it was like any other exploration. Right-hand first. She'd find Kai eventually. Hopefully before she found anything else.
Hina put the invitation back into her pocket, slipping the token back into the envelope. She checked her weapons, hands moving automatically along her belt, weighing stones. She patted her knife, her sling.
Her throwing patterns were ready to go at a moment's notice, after days of practice. And they were deadly if she used them right, she knew that from experience.
And the sigil was there. If she really needed it. If she could bear the risk.
Hina was as ready as she was going to be.
She turned to the right-hand passageway and walked towards it, footsteps slapping against the stone floor, and then muffled against another thick rug.
She twisted her hips to pass an end table that jutted out into the walk-way and stared down a long corridor that led off into darkness.
Framed pictures lined the walls and closed doors and open passageways dotted the corridor at irregular intervals. Far in the distance, the corridor branched off in two directions.
Hina had a sense of vertigo, like the corridor was a pit she could fall into forever. The sheer length of it stretched far beyond the bounds of the building she had entered.
But she caught her spiraling panic with a deep breath. This was nothing new. Not really.
She could do this. She had to.
Hina stepped into the passageway.
"Oh fuck, missed my cue," said a faintly familiar voice from the room behind Hina.