“This can’t be the right place.”

  I paused before the abandoned construction site and looked down at the paper to check the address again.

  Half finished walls dotted the first and second story of what was supposed to have been an apartment or a commercial office building. Maybe the owners hadn’t decided yet. Starting from the second floor, anything resembling a building in the middle of construction just flat out disappeared. No yellow signs, no drywalls. Just temporary load bearers and open air spaces, putting a new definition to the term open ceiling design.

  The building took up the entire block, meaning there was plenty of unused space. Green wooden boards had been erected to keep the general public out. I peeked through one of the plastic panels. It was a mess. The place was littered with steel beams, trash, signs of homeless people sleeping there, and sharp tools that had been left behind.

  “This is where they wanted to meet?” Even Wol sounded skeptical.

  “Let’s double check,” I finally said.

  I retraced my steps to the next block, then another block in the opposite direction. There was no mistake. This was the place.

  “Hell no,” I said. “Nuh-uh. I’m not going in there. This screams trap.”

  Wol touched a paw to the wood. He looked around, not scared, just careful. “You still think too much like a normal human.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” I asked.

  He blinked and yawned, revealing sharp fangs. “You are a Practitioner.”

  I blinked. It only took about ten seconds for my brain to arrive at the obvious conclusion.

  “Hwari,” I called.

  Geumhwari floated out of my shadow, ‘Yes?’

  “Can you check the premise for dangers?”

  ‘Done.’ Then she faded into my shadow once more.

  The winter sun was well over the midpoint of its journey and the swath of half-done construction was bathed in orange light. Daylight was nearing its end and with it, the wind began to bite. The snow from the blizzard was starting to freeze and I knew that by tomorrow, they’d all turn to ice. I stepped on a pile of snow on the sidewalk and it shattered instead of breaking.

  “Jain?”

  “Hmm?”

  “Do try not to give insult,” Wol said.

  “When did I do that?” I asked. “Give insult, I mean.”

  My cat familiar gave me a withering glare. “This Intellect Transit. It is powerful and has handed us the olive branch. We should try and make the most of it.”

  I crossed my fingers and placed them on my heart. “I won’t comment on the food.”

  Wol looked towards the setting sun. “Soon, the sun will set. We do not want to be vulnerable when it happens.”

  “Uh, you’re going to have to explain.”

  “You already know. Before the first fire, before the moon, before practitioners, monsters ruled the night. There is power in stories. The same way that ghosts grow stronger near experiences resembling their deaths. Night is the domain of non-humans.”

  “You’re not just talking about being able to see in the dark, or having a better sense of hearing. It sounds like you’re saying there’s a supernatural aspect to it,” I said.

  “Yes, I am,” Wol lowered his body and leapt onto a pile of snow to stand near eye level with me. “The same way that the planetary hours affect the zodiac familiars. Or the way that the moon’s shape affects rituals, and why certain magic works better in winter. There are laws, and rules. Patterns that the world follows.”

  “That’s a pretty roundabout way of telling me not to walk around alone at night,” I said. “Who made these rules?”

  “Stories. History. Patterns. Karma. It’s just how things are,” Wol said. “I am not old enough to know.”

  “Who is?”

  “Gods, great ghosts, the first beings.” He said. His voice turned queasy and quiet, like a scared kitten. “Nothing good. Nothing good at all.”

  I didn’t respond.

  Wol, Hwari, and I only knew each other for a day. But it felt like we’d been together for a long time. Probably because of the life-and-death situations. Wol had been stressed, worried, annoyed; a bunch of different things.

  Stolen novel; please report.

  But scared?

  Something about Wol being scared made me uneasy. I decided to drop the conversation.

  Hwari chose that moment to ghost through the wooden door. ‘There is only the Intellect Transit, her children, and two guests.’

  “Guests?” I shared a look with Wol. “That wasn’t part of the deal.”

  Hwari swirled around my heard. ‘She gives you her word of safe passage and until sunrise afterwards. That you will be safe from her and the guests.’

  I caught something else. “Wait, the Intellect Transit is a her?”

  ‘A girl,’ Hwari said.

  “A girl?” I repeated.

  It struck me as odd that Hwari knew the distinction between a girl and a woman. I wondered what separated the two in Hwari’s mind.

  Actually, I wondered how Hwari perceived the world and how it differed from mine. But those were thoughts from another time.

  I pushed on the employee entrance, which was nothing more than a shoddy door attached to the wooden barriers really, and it opened easily. The blizzard had left an impressive amount of snow in its wake. Even on certain sidewalks where the property owners had just given up on salting or shoveling, the snow came up to my hips. As soon as I saw the abandoned building, I’d been ready to trudge through five feet of snow and come out soaking wet.

  As it was, there was a path carved right into the snow straight to the entrance of the half-finished building.

  “Think they were expecting us?” I asked innocently.

  Wol raised his chin proudly and refrained from commenting.

  ‘Yes,’ Hwari answered faithfully.

  “Glad you agree,” I said and continued.

  I’ll say this once and only once because most people have it ingrained into their common sense. But for the unlucky few that have a few screws loose like me, or have been pushed into circumstances beyond their control, I give this word of advise.

  Do not visit abandoned buildings when the sun is setting.

  I stepped foot in the building and the supernatural aura of this place immediately registered on my senses. A thick miasma of misery, hopelessness, and overwhelming despair. My Third Eye squirmed to see and I failed to suppress it in entirety.

  I saw things I didn’t want to see.

  A man hanging off the ledge, then jumping down.

  Splat.

  The laughter of pale children and the sounds of their feet running when there was no one there. Then when I looked in the mirror, behind me there was–

  No, no, no, no, no.

  Ghost of a woman cradling –no, I didn’t want to see– in her arms, both of them wrapped in layers of clothing. Her head snapped up, like she could see me, then she lunged; maw opening impossibly wide with a scream that–

  “Jain, focus.”

  Wol brought me back.

  I was leaning on one of the unfinished pillars. I felt cold. I’d sweated right through the hoodie. “What the fuck is this place?”

  “A place where a lot of bad things happened,” Wol said. “A warning to intruders.”

  I rubbed my hand over my face, rubbing at my eyes. “My Third Eye. It’s making me watch.”

  “Take a minute,” Wol said.

  My Third Eye showed me half a dozen more deaths. Suicide. Homeless women and their babies. Murder. Visions of men bringing women with no intention of letting them leave.

  And every time, there were pidgeons. Rats. Sometimes, raccoons and opposums. They surrounded the victim in some sick animalistic ritual, circling them. Cooing. Squeaking. Purring.

  By the end, I was shivering and dripping with sweat. The sun had long set and the entire place was dark. Thankfully, some of the street lights bled in so not everything was pitch black. Just shades of dark blue, gray, and darker gray.

  “Ok, let’s go,” My voice was shaky, but I managed.

  I climbed the stairs, following Hwari. The higher I went, the darker and windier it got. The winter night winds howled something fierce and to make it worse, a lot of the stairs were just that: stairs. No handle, no safety bars. Just skeletal frames or worse: shaky wooden beams meant to be used in conjunction with safety equipment.

  They were waiting for me before the roof.

  And I remembered that this world that I’d stepped into, it wasn’t just practitioners. I’d forgotten. Maybe because Assad, despite his horns and skin, had a somewhat humanoid resemblance. Bipedal, working digits, two eyes, one nose, one mouth, and two ears. Not to mention he wore a suit.

  The Intellect Transit was anything but human.

  My Third Eye shrilled joyously.

  The Intellect Transit was in the general shape of a teenage girl. But instead of arms, she had wings that covered her body like a dress, the longest feathers dragging along the ground. She was bald, with what looked like down feathers starting to grow from the back of her head and down her neck.

  Her face was covered in eyes.

  Mindless, yellow pigeon eyes that all jerked around in different directions at once; beady rat eyes that glowed red in the dark. Where there was supposed to be a nose were three beaks all mishappen and jutting out in random directions. Then to my growing horror I realized there were smaller beaks placed all around her face.

  When she spoke, all the beaks and rat snouts did so in unison.

  “Come and be welcome, Jain Shin Hallow,” She said, every voice –a girl, pigeons, rats, and more– melding as one. “Thank you for accepting my invitation.”