Page 65 of Hunger & Harmony

She shakes her head, not bothering to respond as she shoos me forward and off the bus. I’m quick to stuff both of my phones into a black clutch.

Cass is waiting for us in his own formal wear. The air is thick with silence, not even the wind daring to interrupt. I crane my neck to take in the cathedral before us. Its ebony stone is stark against the pale peaks.

Navigating the steps with wobbly legs, I hold my purse under my arm and cling to Lorelai to make it to the top. This is what I get for never wearing heels.

At least I’m too distracted trying to balance to be anxious. It hits me full force once we’re standing in front of the doors. Only one man stands at the ready, looming like the building he guards. When he sees us, he steps to the side wordlessly. The doors groan open.

My stomach twists. We step into the jaws of Sancte Noctis.

Bitter air is traded for a haze of incense. I nearly choke on how heavy it is, and combined with the smell of iron, I have to give myself a moment to not hack like an old man.

As I look around, the weight of being one of the few mortals to witness this settles over me.

It’s not as quiet anymore. Music echoes through the narrow antechamber so faintly, I wonder if I’m imagining it. No one is actually plucking at a violin or running their fingers over piano keys. These scattered notes null the sounds of our footsteps along the dark, parquet flooring, which is disorienting as I follow Cass and Lorelai’s lead.

Torches with blue-white flames line the walls between arched alcoves, casting a harsh light that doesn’t reach the shadows of the vaulted ceiling. It’s enough to reveal the sculptures watching from each recess, mouths open as if mid-hymn.

Everything is sharp and devoid of warmth. What kind of architect makes an entry point so uninviting?

Arteria are long gone, and so are the cloaked figures. Instead, two people wait at the only exit point, their clothing more humble. I suddenly crave Niko’s hand in mine, or even Ezren and Selene. I hate how my heart thunders and my palms sweat. It can’t be wise to act like prey.

“Mortals,” the woman greets.

Her pristine black and white livery is identical to her male counterpart. Same for their platinum hair that’s been cropped and slicked down. Even their dull, maroon eyes are parallel, with nothing out of place. Getting a closer look, they are rather androgynous, and it’s hard to tell who is who the longer I look.

“We are your guides within these walls. After you are settled in your rooms, there will be no tolerance for wandering,” he says, to which the woman nods curtly.

“You may only leave your designated wing when escorted.”

Lorelai bows her head graciously. Cass is just as silent. I lower my gaze, really wishing Arteria were still around.

“Follow us.”

I hang at the back of our small group, the scale of Sancte Noctis bizarre as we’re led from the narrow entrance to the main hall.

There’s no grand staircase or sweeping balconies. No patterned mosaic to lead down winding paths, with maybe a moonlit garden or library waiting at the end. This isn’t a castle from ‌fairytales.

Stone flooring meets stone walls. While massive, this hall is sobering, only functioning as a connector for the two archways on either side. Nothing wrong with being pragmatic, but I did expect a bit of flourish from such ancient beings. It’s nothing more than a medieval scullery on a movie set. Not even finished!

Regardless of how barren it is, the music swells. Louder, but not frenzied. It echoes between cobblestones, creating a rich, hypnotic distraction from the lack of furnishings.

“This way,” one guide says, and I hurry to keep up with their long strides.

We head to the right. It’s only after we’ve almost left that something recessed in the ceiling catches my eye. A massive chandelier hangs in the shadows, crystals shimmering along the structure. The main material resembles Niko’s crown: bone.

Could it be the source of the music? I’m given no time to inspect further. We’re led out of the music’s reach, the floor beneath us becoming creaky mahogany and worn tapestries.

“This is your designated wing.”

Our guides stop at the end of a long hallway, and the grip on my purse tightens as I peer at each shadowed door. There’s only one candle at the entrance, and it isn’t accomplishing much over here.

“You each get a room. Your belongings will be delivered by the witching hour’s arrival.”

Cass doesn’t hesitate to pick a random room, the door to our left shutting behind him with a solid thud. I glance at Lorelei, wondering if she’ll abandon me as quickly.

The door next to his creaks closed, answering that question.

Well, I’m not going to be left alone with these guides. I can feel their dual stares until I close myself into the last room across from Cass and Lorelai. Not that it’s any better to be all alone.