They moved north along the pre-dawn street in silence. Matilya was full of questions, but her mind whirled so terribly the she could not choose one to voice. The officer strode purposefully ahead, his boots clapping along the icy flagstones, sending echoes between buildings. She doubted he would have much useful to say anyway, given his recent behavior.

He halted at the entrance to one of the few stone-built towers. Nine narrow staircases, all running parallel toward the heavy door, created a newly ominous of purpose to the design. This was validated when the officer gestured forcefully for her to take the stairs right of the center. Despite hovering over the ground, she carefully counted nine steps to the top.

Matty’s senses had returned sufficiently for her to become suspicious. No one else walked the cold streets, there were no wagons. She was about to enter a strange building with a man she did not much like.

It took the officer a moment to notice when she stopped following.

“Come along,” he balked.