The sound was wrong. Too measured. Too patient.
Theo stayed perfectly still on the edge of the bed, his fingers curled into the blanket until the fabric bit into his skin. The voice outside — the one pretending to be Magda, then changing into something else — was low and hollow now, as though spoken down the length of a long tunnel.
"Theo…"
The way it shaped his name made the air feel colder.
The knock came again. Three raps. Always three.
He swallowed and glanced at the door. There was no keyhole, only a heavy iron latch. On the inside of the wood, strange marks had been burned into the grain — symbols that looked almost like claw marks arranged in patterns.
Magda had said not to make it easy for anyone — or anything to come in. He understood now.
The third knock was followed by a sound like claws dragging lightly down the wood. It wasn't an idle scratching; it was exploratory, tracing the outline of the latch.
Theo rose silently and crossed the room to the wardrobe, pulling it open. Inside was nothing but an extra blanket, a small chest — and, hanging from a hook, a short steel blade in a black scabbard. Its hilt was bound in deep green leather, and as he gripped it, a faint hum seemed to run through the weapon, like a heartbeat.
He'd never seen the sword before.
The voice came again, closer, as if the speaker's lips were pressed directly to the door. "Open it, and I will tell you why they sent you here."
The offer slithered into his ears like smoke.
Theo's mind flashed to the High Council's decree, the king's grave warnings, the way the moon water had reacted to his touch. Was this thing outside tied to that reaction? Or was it just baiting him?
The latch twitched. Just a fraction, but enough to jolt him.
Theo stepped forward — and slammed his palm against the burned markings on the wood. The air shimmered faintly, and the scratching stopped. For the first time, he heard something new in the voice beyond the door: frustration.
"Little wolf," it hissed. "You think you are safe behind this wood?"
There was a sound like a long exhale, but colder — frost began to spread across the door from the other side, creeping over the iron latch.
That was when Magda returned.
She didn't walk in. She burst through the door at the far end of the corridor, axe in hand, eyes scanning everything.
The frost stopped spreading. The voice went silent.
Theo heard something move away, the heavy, slow footsteps resuming — but now they were retreating.
Magda appeared in his doorway, eyes narrowing at the frost. She pressed her palm to the burned marks, muttering something under her breath that made the symbols glow faintly before fading again.
"What was it?" Theo asked.
She shut the door, bolted it, and answered only after scanning the corners of the room twice. "Not something you need to meet on your first night. But it's one of the reasons no one wanders after the bell."
"It knew my name," Theo said quietly.
Magda's jaw tightened. "Then it's not just here for anyone. It's here for you."
Theo sat back on the bed, the strange blade still in his grip.
Magda noticed. "Where did you get that?"
"It was in the wardrobe."
She frowned. "That wasn't there when I checked the room."
Theo glanced down at the weapon. The hum had grown fainter, but it was still there, like the echo of something watching.
Outside, the slow footsteps had faded entirely. But in the silence that followed, Theo couldn't shake the feeling that the thing — whatever it was — had left not because it couldn't get in… but because it had learned enough for tonight.