Chapter 5 #3
A single lantern hung from the overhang, its tiny flame flickering against the wind. Attached to the building by an iron rod was a small, swaying sign hanging from two chains. The name carved into the swinging board made my stomach twist: The Squelching Mink.
Smoke billowed from a stone chimney.
At least it wasn’t deserted.
I followed the worn, narrow path to the small porch where a change in the air made me pause. I glanced up. It looked like it was about to rain.
My nerves were tingling as I returned my gaze to the door.
Last chance to turn back.
Susan was right, wasn’t she? Derrick wouldn’t let me die at this place. Right?
I clicked my tongue nervously. Who was I kidding? That was already proven incorrect once.
But I wasn’t going to be any less safe there than I was here.
What the hell.
I pressed my hand on the heavy wooden door and pushed.
The deep scent of firewood burning disarmed me the moment I stepped inside.
A bar, wooden stools, and a few tables sat innocuously and unattended, except for one. A man sat at the bar. He was wearing a long coat and gloves, his face covered mainly by a cold-weather mask. That was odd for July.
He didn’t look at me as I stood there.
Should I call out? Take a seat? Go back out and come back in?
Perhaps I could ask the man at the bar to choose a number and assign it to my options, but a woman rounded the corner and ruined all my plans.
She was a little on the plump side, and her hair was pulled back with a wrap tied at the top of her head. She cast me an irritable look and jerked her head to the side.
“He’s waitin’ for you o’er there,” she said, gesturing to the corner of the tavern.
I raised an eyebrow. There wasn’t anyone—
I stared in the corner she’d gestured to, suddenly seeing a man indeed sitting there.
When the hell did he come in?
He wore a black cloak, its hood drawn low over his face. My footfalls were like trees coming down and smacking the ground as I walked toward him.
Couldn’t they play some music or something?
Scratching the side of my face, I kept moving, trying to focus on the crackling of the fire.
“Anna?” His deep brown eyes were fixed on mine as his hands rested around his tankard on the table.
He was dressed warmly in genuine leather with highly detailed stitchwork. He must have been at least ten years older than me. He stood and lowered his hood, revealing wavy dark blond hair. He smiled and gestured for me to join him.
The chair dragged across the wooden floor as I pulled it out, screeching along the way.
He sat down.
“I’m glad you made it,” he said. “I’ve been expecting you. My name is Davos. Congratulations are in order. You’ve passed the first test.”
I raised an eyebrow. “What test?”
“Getting here,” he said. “You wouldn’t believe how many people never show up.”
Because they took one look at this place and ran, I thought to myself.
“I mean, this is all a bit odd,” I said. “What is this place?”
His grin faded as he glanced around. “Oh, yes, it is a bit, isn’t it. I’ve never heard of a—what was it? Monk?”
Was he kidding?
“You mean, a mink?” I asked.
Alright, where was the camera?
Because this couldn’t be real.
But Davos wasn’t paying any attention to the incredulous look on my face.
“Ah, yes, what is that?” he asked.
I paused, realizing the question wasn’t rhetorical, and frowned. “Um, it’s sort of like a weasel, I guess?”
“Huh,” he said. “Not sure what that is either. Anyway. You’re here. Let’s talk. You’ve come today because you’re seeking admittance into the Summits at Nightfall. I trust you’ve been properly briefed about what exactly it is that you’ve signed up for?”
I stared at him as he took a deep drink of his tankard. “Not exactly.”
His eyes shot up as he set his ale down, his brows so thick and heavy they appeared to be resting on his eyes.
“But you have agreed with whoever recruited you? You understand that Nightfall’s an extremely private society that’s been hidden for hundreds of years?
There are many rules that you must agree to in order to enter. ”
I shrugged. “Yeah, I guess. What rules?”
Davos sighed dramatically. “I always hate when the recruiters don’t do their job.
Alright. Within the walls of Nightfall, you’ll find yourself immersed in a world of exploration, beauty, research, and rigorous coursework, all whilst experiencing the comfort of fine living alongside the charming qualities of a wholesome village.
You will no doubt spend your first days adapting to the norms there, but once you do, you’ll begin to appreciate all that it has to offer.
I raised a brow. “It sounds like any other university.”
Davos spluttered as he gave me a scandalized look. “My dear, no. There’s a reason Nightfall is by exclusive invitation only. Think for a moment about the person who told you about Nightfall. Does this individual seem like the kind of person who would attend a university?”
Derrick’s grim expression popped into my head like a sour-faced anime character. He most definitely did not. I guess he had a point.
“Ah,” he said, his expression relaxing into a smirk. “See. While there is much secrecy surrounding Nightfall, those chosen to attend are selected for a reason. While you may not understand now, there’s no doubt a part of you does.”
My pulse quickened. He was right. There was something about Derrick that was always off.
And so was I.
Off in a way that made it hard to relate to others, hard to engage in the things they cared about, like sports and gossip. Off in how I was always looking for a connection that just wasn’t there.
He gave me a stern look. “Now, on to business. All new Initiates must prove themselves upon arrival. There are tasks you must pass to prove you’re a good fit.” He smiled in a forced attempt to make me comfortable, and it didn’t work.
“Tasks? What kind of tasks?”
“You’ll find out when you get there, but I’m supposed to inform you that there’s a serious risk of injury, or possibly death,” he said.
“Hold on—possibly death?” I said, laughing at the absurdity of the whole situation.
He grimaced. “Yes, but that’s not likely. Few perish in the tasks. You’ll be fine. Probably. Now, should you still seek admittance, you’ll need The Nightshade Delight from Hilda at the bar.”
His face was serious with no hint of amusement. There was no part of this guy that was kidding. What. The. Fuck. Was Derrick pranking me?
“The Nightshade Delight?” I asked. “Does it have Nightshade in it?”
He frowned for a moment. “Well, yes, but just a pinch.”
“Nightshade’s poisonous,” I said. “I’m not drinking that.”
"Yes, it is. That’s what makes it work,” he said. “But when mixed with other ingredients, it becomes a powerful sedative.”
“And you want me to drink it?” I asked.
Was he crazy?
“Yes,” he said. “Don’t worry, it’s delicious. After the first few glasses anyway.”
I deadpanned, shaking my head. “You want me to drink something that’ll knock me out? And then what?”
He smiled. “Then I take you to Nightfall. Or, very close, to be exact.”
I glanced over as Hilda approached and slammed down a pint of a purple bubbling liquid foaming over the edge of the glass.
“It’s not goin’ to kill ya, girl,” she said, rolling her eyes, her accent so thick I had no idea where she might be from.
I pursed my lips as she stood there momentarily before heading back to the bar. The purple sludge spilled over the edge with the consistency as mud. It smelled like overripe fruit and something burned, and I was already fighting the urge to gag.
“She’s right,” Davos said. “Hilda’s the best brewer in all the Appalachians. You’ll hardly know you were out.”
My head was beginning to throb. I was getting nowhere.
“If I drink this, I’ll wake up at Nightfall? In Europe? Across an ocean?” I asked.
He smiled and nodded. “Yes. Good, you seem to understand.”
Somehow, I’d expected simpler travel plans.
That was my mistake, of course, considering I was receiving instructions from a place called The Squelching Mink.
I could question him further, get nowhere, and still do what he said, or do it without all the hassle.
Picking up the metal cup, I tipped it back.
It tasted every bit as bad as it looked.
I finished it and set the cup back down on the table.
If it killed me, I’d be pretty pissed, but at this point, it didn’t seem any riskier than walking into a lair of hungry polar bears.
Davos, oblivious to the little mink that now sat on his shoulder, looked pleased. I watched the little mink as it started making an odd, well, squelching sound. It was looking at me and creeping me out. When he stood up, I shifted to get up, but a strange feeling struck.
The odd feeling passed quickly, but when I opened my eyes, Davos was gone, as was the little squelching mink. After that, everything descended into darkness.