Liam woke upright with a gasp, fighting for air. His heart was pounding in his chest like a drum.
He sat up slowly, his body feeling stiff.
The knocking and singing of the night before seemed like a bad dream.
Mira was outside on her knees beside a wooden washtub, her sleeves pushed up to her elbows. She glanced up as Liam approached, her straw-colored braid swinging.
"Slept well?" she said, plunging a shirt back into the water.
Liam paused. "Did you hear anything strange last night?"
Mira froze, water dripping from her hands. "Like what?"
"Singing. Knocking. Someone—" he paused and continued "—someone who sounded like you, calling my name."
Mira laughed, but it was nervous. "You must have dreamt. I slept all night." She flicked water on him. "Maybe you ate some rotten meat."
Liam observed her face. She appeared genuinely confused, not a person attempting to hide a secret.
Liam headed to the market after washing up.
The butcher's shop smelled of woodsmoke and iron. Uncle Harlan was hacking his way through a side of beef when Liam entered.
"Morning, Uncle," Liam began.
Harlan grunted without lifting his head.
Liam took a deep breath. "About the nighttime singing—"
The cleaver sliced down with a meaty THUNK into the wood block. Harlan's face went pale. His meaty fingers trembled slightly as he pulled out the blade.
"Don't." His voice was rough. "Don't speak of night things."
Liam's mouth opened to ask about the castle, but—
"There you are!" Mira's voice came from the doorway. She stood with a basket of fresh greens on her hip. "Come let's go fishing!"
As she drew Liam away, he glanced back. Harlan was standing watching them go, his face scared.
When they arrived at the lake, it was calm as a mirror. Dragonflies skimmed the water. Mira baited her hook with a wriggling worm.
"That castle on the hill," Liam said suddenly. "When was it built?"
Mira looked up. "What castle?"
Liam was freezing all over. He pointed. "That one! Right there!"
Mira looked at the empty hillside. "Liam. there's nothing there."
His fishing rod slipped from his fingers and fell into the water.
Liam's blood ran cold. The shattered towers stood gaunt on the hillside. But Mira did not saw them at all.
As the sun started setting, Liam and Mira headed back home. Mira's cottage glowed hospitably in the glooming sky. Smoke was drifting out of the chimney, carrying the hearty aroma of stew.
"Stay for dinner," Mira said, drawing Liam inside.
Entering Mira's House, Liam was greeted by Mira's father and mother.
Mira's house smelled of herbs and woodsmoke. The dinner was laid on the table.
Then Liam stopped in his tracks.
Five wooden chairs. Five spoons. Five bowls.
But only four people were present now - Mira, her parents, and himself.
Mira's mother hummed under her breath as she served stew into all five bowls.
"Eat up," said Mira's father, taking his usual chair.
No one mentioned the spare chair.
Then Liam saw it - a fifth chair at the table. The spoon stirred slightly, as if invisible fingers had brushed against it.
A door was open in the darkened hall. Liam did not recall that door from the memory of the other Liam.
A wet, grinding breath sounded from the darkness.
A second later, The empty chair slightly creaked.
Liam's hand was shaken. He looked over at Mira, but she was eating with a smile, acting as if all was well.
Liam's hands trembled around his spoon. The fifth bowl of stew sat untouched, the stew now cold with a faint layer of grease across the top. His eyes kept darting to the empty chair, which had creaked two more times during dinner—each time making his heart leap into his throat.
Mira and her parents discussed village gossip, laughing at something Liam couldn't understand. They acted as though everything was ordinary. As though they did not see the extra spoon stirring on its own. As though they did not hear the wet, raspy breathing from the dark hallway.
I have to go.
But where would he go? The village wasn't safe. The castle on the hill dominated his imagination—if no one else could see it, did it even exist? And what was waiting for him in the woods in the dark?
So Liam stayed. He forced down the last few bites of his stew, his stomach roiling with every swallow.
By the time they finished eating, the sun had dipped below the horizon. Orange shadows of the cottage walls danced in the firelight.
Mira's father forced himself to his feet. "Better to go home before its fully dark," he said, as though this were any normal night.
Liam nodded, his throat too tight to speak. He shoved back from the table—and froze.
The fifth chair was pushed back slightly, as if someone had recently stood.
A cold sweat broke out on Liam's back. He forced himself to move towards the Entrance, his legs stiff with fear.
Mira followed him. "See you tomorrow?" she said, smiling.
Liam opened his mouth to reply—
Then he heard it.
The singing.
Faint at first, penetrating through the gaps around the doorframe. A girl's voice, high and sweet
"Where have you gone, my dear one.?"
Mira's smile didn't waver. "Tomorrow, then," she said, as though she couldn't hear it.
The door creaked.
Not from the wind.
From the other side, Something was out there. And it was trying to get in.