The crow was the same size as his head, sleek and tall with a single red eye fixed on him, and no sign that it intended to leave his shoulder. Asher’s heart raced, but he couldn’t move. If he tried, the thing would surely turn those talons to his face.

‘Hadley?’ Sara’s voice was a whisper.

The bird trilled loud against Asher’s ear, a pitched warble that made the woman smile.

‘Not a bird,’ Penn said. ‘Not a human bird.’

Sara reached out and stroked the feathers of its chest. The creature warbled again.

‘Can someone get it off me?’ Asher asked. The rustling of feathers was loud, loud enough that Asher could see other birds coming in behind him, enough to cover him, to scratch and tear until he woke up somewhere else. He rolled his shoulder, but the crow stayed firm.

Sara pried at the claws digging into him, and the bird hoped from his shoulder, taking the weight and the rising anxiety with it, settling in on Sara’s hand. Sara grinned like a little kid, and rubbed a spot at the base of it’s beak. The crow trilled again, and pressed into it.

‘She used to feed them,’ Sara said. ‘Even when we were kids. Sometimes they followed her around. It’s her, isn’t it? Did she send this one to us?’

Penn frowned and stepped in next to her. He spoke low and stern in his own language, staring unblinking at the creature as it stilled in Sara’s hand. The crow responded with an angry caw that made Asher and Sara jump, and Penn hissed in reply. The bird then took off in a flurry of feathers, shooting through the little window and disappearing.

‘Was that one of her birds?’ Sara asked Penn.

‘It’s not a bird,’ Penn said. ‘It wants us to follow.’

Asher peered through the little window it had escaped through, ignoring the long dried droppings that stained the brick, and saw the creature sitting on the roof of the main building. It was unnaturally still, watching them. Another flew down and sat next to it, matching that uncanny, unmoving posture.

He really didn’t like these things.

‘Should we trust it?’ he asked Sara.

Sara bit her lip. ‘I trust Hadley, if that’s what you mean.’ She nodded. ‘I think we should.’

‘Alright,’ Asher said. ‘But if any more show up, run.’

***

Asher would never have described a bird as impatient before, but these creatures were impatient. Sara led them through the back streets once more, slowly, checking for anyone who might cross their path, and each time they turned away from the crow, another would appear in front of them and caw angrily. At one point Penn snapped at them, gesturing like an old man irritated by the noise, but the birds paid no attention.

‘I didn’t know you could talk to animals,’ Asher asked at one point, keeping his voice low even though they hadn’t seen anyone yet.

‘They’re not animals,’ Penn said.

‘Spirits?’

Penn shook his head. ‘They do not listen to me. They’re supposed to.’

‘I think they’re following Hadley,’ Asher pointed out.

Penn’s face twisted in disdain. ‘They’re not of this world. They follow me, or the spirits will make them go back.’

‘Can you tell the spirits they’re helping us?’ Asher asked.

‘They are helping us,’ Penn said. ‘That’s why they can stay. They need to follow, and they won’t.’

‘They are very stubborn creatures,’ Sara said.

‘If they’re not spirits, then what are they?’ Asher asked. ‘Not Fienta, right?’

Penn shook his head. ‘Not Fienta.’

He didn’t elaborate further.

Asher was sure they were heading out to the farms again, as they were led further down the mountain and all he could think about was the effort of climbing back up to the main part of town. Instead, at the same moment he realised they drew closer to the address of the relocation on the papers, each of the birds came to a stop at an old postal office. It was small and nondescript, a simple, single storied brick box shoved between a bakery and a grocer. The dust and cobwebs around the windows told him it’d been closed up for a while. Penn tested the door, and when it didn’t open, he drove his shoulder into the wood, breaking the lock from its hold.

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‘We really need to talk about you doing that,’ Asher commented. He really was becoming someone past him would have hated. Talking about helping and doing the right thing, but doing… this.

The inside was empty, long abandoned, ransacked and abandoned again. Planks of wood sat scattered amongst dust and broken pieces of wood, years of moisture merging them into the floor. The smell of mould hung heavy, joined with questionable black spots climbing the far corner. A lone, large spider dangled from the ceiling, spinning lazily around and around.

Penn made for a single door at the back, bouncing over a raised panel where a counter might have been, but this door held fast, not moving no matter how much force he pushed at it. The lack of echo told Asher it had been sealed on the other side.

For a front, it was a little disappointing. Yet, if it was just that, then why had the crows brought them there? If they really were Hadley’s birds, then maybe this place held the secrets that had driven her fear that night.

He stepped through the door, and the air changed, the temperature dropping as though he had fallen into a frozen pond. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up, and there were eyes boring into him, eyes he couldn’t see, a hundred invisible spiders turning to look at him. The air was empty, hollow and echoing. Asher tried to shake the sensation off, but when he closed his eyes, he only saw the same caves from Le Torkani, the endless black labyrinth that drove him to panic.

No. Not again. ‘What’s happening?’ he demanded.

‘Le Torkani,’ Penn hissed. He banged on the door again, but it wasn’t opening. Asher eased forward, but with each step towards the middle of the room, the air grew heavier, pressing in from all sides to hold him in place. His lungs filled with clay, solidifying his entire torso and making air impossible to go down.

A gentle hand pressed onto his shoulder, and the sensation eased enough for him to pull a breath in. ‘It’s a weakness in the Gate,’ Sara said. ‘Try and breathe through it.’

Asher swallowed and forced himself forward, until he stood in the middle of the room. The pressure made him want to crumble, fold in on himself until he was a puddle on the floor. There was nothing here. Even as he focused, only the smallest wisps of haze, smoke no thicker than a boiling kettle, drifted out of the floor in bright blue light. Sara leaned down and pulled a small, empty pouch from her pocket, scooping at the wisps with the leather. When she straightened, the little bag was full and weighted. She pulled the drawstrings tight and looped it around her belt. From the folds of her skirt, she pulled another empty one and tossed it to Asher. ‘Try filling it up. If we have a fight, this is the one time I won’t turn you away from it.’

‘Have you done this before?’ Asher asked.

‘Not directly,’ Sara said. ‘I mean… no, I haven’t, but it feels a little exciting, doesn’t it?’

Asher’s leg ached at the memory, and only cramped when he tried to ease the weight of it.

‘Oh, I didn’t mean it like that,’ Sara said. ‘I mean… I’ve never done what a witch is supposed to do, the whole reason we’re able to see the spirits. And this has to be what Hadley was worried about. It just… it feels good to finally do this.’

Asher spotted a thin wisp seeping out of the wall, running up through the cracks in the walls before sailing back down. As he hooked the bag under the stream, Penn flicked his hand out, and the gentle haze of smoke turned to a plume, cascading down over his hands, over the bag and leaving a pile of ash and dust on the floor. When Asher pulled away, the bag was overflowing with dust, and smoking.

‘Oh there were still herbs in that one,’ Sara said. ‘Throw it away, quick!’

Asher tossed the bag towards the door, but Penn plucked it out of the air before it could get to far. His eyes were burning again, and he mumbled something under his breath. The bag stopped smoking, and Penn tightened the strings, then tossed it back at Asher. ‘It will wait,’ he said.

‘What will it do?’ Asher asked.

Penn shrugged.

It would work as a last resort if anything. He’d already seen what any dust did to those monsters. The thought of ending up in the place made his spine contract, but he couldn’t think about that now. It hadn’t happened yet.

The spirits in the wall calmed, floating back down towards the floor in the same fine, airy smoke coming out of the floor.

Coming out of the floor…

Asher tapped his cane against the floor, letting the sound of wood against wood ring out through the space. A chill ran down the length of his spine, but when it passed he tapped the floor again, testing each patch of rotting wood, until one of his taps rang hollow. A single patch in the middle of the room had nothing beneath it. A trapdoor.

‘Penn, it’s underneath us,’ Asher said.

Sara dropped to her knees and felt around the floor, brushing away dust and damp remains of parchment, until her nails hooked into a grove. She traced the edges until she came across a hook, and pulled. It stuck tight. Asher tried to bend his leg to help, but the pressure on his ankle sent a sharp pain through his leg, and he had to straighten again.

Penn knelt down next to her, but didn’t pull. Instead, he ran his hand along the length of the latch, mumbling softly until small droplets of water rose from between the cracks, which he chased towards one end and let sink into the grooves of the edges. The wood darkened, then began to warp. He motioned for Sara to get out of the way, then Asher drove his cane hard into the latch. The metal hook snapped open as the wooden joint separated from its joints. The patch of floor dropped down into empty space, revealing a stone hall below.

One of the crows flew into the room then, a flurry of feathers flashing across Asher’s face before landing on Sara’s shoulder. Sara reached up to stroke the bird’s chest, and it trilled happily.

‘It’s not a doorway, is it?’ Sara asked. ‘I mean… a doorway.’

Penn shrank back.

Asher sighed and eased himself down until he was sitting, then dropped his legs down. When he had crossed the arch in Valenda, the alchemist had come up behind him, but if something were to bite his leg off, at least he could swap the constant ache for something with a hidden pistol in it.

When nothing happened, Penn dropped through the door and onto the floor below. He scanned the space back and forth, then nodded and gestured Asher and Sara down.

When Sara had eased down with both Penn and Asher holding her, Asher eased himself down, where both of them caught him before he could drop too far, placing him gently on the stone, though his leg still twinged at the effort.