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My docent growls before storming off, slamming the wooden door behind her. The weird creatures all stand very still, watching the old crone while I stand there, quite frankly, like an idiot.

Bonhilda opens up a jar from a nearby shelf, spitting into it while mumbling something under her breath. Smoke rises from the jar, enveloping the place. I brace myself, holding my breath as I expect it to choke me. But I don’t notice any difference, except for the creatures starting to choke. They grip their necks, scratching at things as one knocks over an entire barrel of apples, before they all collapse onto the floor, convulsing.

I stand there in utter horror, not even able to make a squeak.

Bonhilda leans over one as it stops moving. “Ah, what’s wrong? Can’t breathe?”

The crone cackles.

“Oh,” I mumble, stepping back toward the door. “Oh, please, what the…”

Her wicked grin widens with approval. “Yes, you’re right. It’s time to go. But we will be leaving through the back door.”

“I don’t, you know… I don’t think so,” I say breathlessly.

“Come with me, or I’ll poison you,” she gently says, motioning toward a room in the back. “We’re going through here. We don’t have much time.”

When I place my hand on the front doorknob, Bonhilda mumbles under her breath once more, and my throat suddenly feels like I’m swallowing sand. I grip it and start coughing like the creatures.

“Do you want to live, or die?” Bonhilda asks, almost bored.

Coughing as if I’m dying, I take a few steps toward her with a pleading expression. She raises a hand, mumbles again, and the sensation eases as I rub my neck. “Please, what’s going on?”

She nears me, grabbing my arm, and takes me to a back room with another door as I stumble back to my feet. “I’ll explain in a moment, but I promise I am an ally. Margaret, however, is not. Not for your true purpose.”

I owe no loyalty to my docent, especially with how she looked at me. I’m terrified of the fact that the Demon King of this Realm wants me, and for that, I follow Bonhilda through the back. There’s a carriage, with a Reaper sitting in the front. The eyes underneath the mask are as white as Bonhilda’s hair, and despite how small she is, she pushes me toward the carriage door with enough force that I nearly fall over, catching myself.

I hesitate

Am I seriously just doing this?

That’s when I feel something sharp in my back and turn to see Bonhilda holding what appears to be a massive centipede, its pincers chomping as all its legs gyrate. I scream as she points it at me again, and I get into the carriage to create space, pressing against the far side which has no door, before she tosses the large insect and gets in behind me.

I feel like my skin is crawling, like the bug is going to appear behind me, and I can’t stay still.

“Listen to what I tell you, and I won’t pull one of those on you again.”

I nod frantically, my body shivering from disgust. The carriage takes off with a lurch before I’m able to get fully seated, the horse gliding over the terrain with its abnormal speed.

Behind us, Margaret is chasing after. A demonic look overcomes her face, and she screeches. Bonhilda grabs my hand, and I almost pull back, but I let her do whatever she’s going to do to avoid that centipede again. She slides a simple ring onto my left pinky, the metal’s surface rough and clearly bearing smithing marks. “Don’t take this off, or I’ll put centipedes in your bed. Leave it off, and I’ll tie you down first.”

I retract my hand and hold it against my chest, my pulse pounding in my ears. “What are you doing? What’s happening?”

We make our way through that initial village to a bridge, winged creatures flying overhead. Some are fleshy with leathery wings, and others appear to be gargoyles. Some land on rooftops, and others on cobblestone.

“Don’t worry,” Bonhilda says. “To others, this looks like an old man with a small carriage led by a donkey. Cost me a tremendous amount of my own power to make this happen. Even gave me a few more wrinkles than I cared for. It’ll get us to where we need to go, though.”

I can’t stop staring behind us, watching the gargoyles take flight as if searching the perimeter. “You better tell me what’s going on—” I slowly turn to face the old lady, my mouth agape. “Are you the witch that cursed me?”

She looks utterly perplexed. “Come again?”

“Margaret said something was wrong with my soul…”

“There’s no curse on your soul, dear. No, what happened just now is that Kallúm has confirmed that you are back in the Underworld. That you are back in his Realm of Nethram.”

I stare at her, some deep part of me stirring as if a truth has finally landed. “What?”

“He has discovered your return, Penelope. Those creatures were meant to capture you. Every gargoyle sentry, every winged beast will be looking for you now.”