Shara

I feel the young woman's hand start to shake in mine, so I grip it tighter in reassurance. Even after being a part of the Fireside household for twelve years, I still remember the first time I was led down this hallway. The feeling of oppression and fear that still courses through my body every time I step into the house isn't as all-consuming as it had been at that time, but it still makes my back tingle with nerves and my stomach knot with tension.

If it hadn't been for Bast protecting me, I wouldn't have lasted near as long as I have in this twisted place. The hollow words of tormented souls sound in my ears, letting me know that all is quiet at this time of night. The dead that are still here are weak, unable to manifest more than their voices, but that is a great help when I'm trying to be inconspicuous.

Coming to the door of the stairs, I wait a moment for the voices to tell me if it's safe to use them. Receiving confirmation, I slowly open the door, glad that I had thought ahead to oil the hinges and the handle to keep it from squeaking. Letting go of the girl's hand, I hold the lever on the opposite side of the door down and shut it, the handle smoothly clicking back into place.

Breathing out a sigh of relief, I bundle my skirts in my hand and make my way up the winding stairs to the main floor. The young woman follows me, her steps so silent I have to turn a few times to be sure she's still with me.

Reaching the landing of the third floor, I again wait for the all-clear signal before going into the main area. This is the trickiest part of our journey, since it's the most used part of the house. A shift of air behind me lets me know that the woman is getting restless with the wait. After a few more minutes, the souls whisper that it's safe to go through.

Grabbing the lady's hand in mine, I walk us through the door into a large meeting room littered with old-world couches and chairs. The first time I'd seen them, I'd been stunned that any had survived the riots and burnings after the Quake. But as the old saying goes, power will get you anything. The girl's steps stutter at the sight before us, but she recovers quickly, gripping my hand tighter.

A screech of warning startles me into action. Turning to the first door we're near, I quickly open it and drag the woman through before quickly shutting it. Breathing heavily from the slight panic, it takes me a moment to notice the sound of papers rustling and drawers being opened and closed.

Turning sharply, I'm aghast at the sight of the woman going through a desk, only now realizing that I'd made a fatal error in judgment when I'd rushed us into this room. Servants are forbidden from going into unoccupied studies. It's well known that those who are caught are severely punished before being released from service.

"What are you doing?! Get away from there," I hiss as I frantically search my mind for a way to get us both out of here safely.

Ignoring me, she continues to rifle through the desk before she stops, a small frown forming on her face. I watch in horror as she grabs a long stick from the top of the desk and kneels behind it, the top of her head the only visible part of her. Rushing over to her as quietly as I can, my jaw drops when I find her jamming the stick into a lock on a desk drawer. Just as I grab her arm, the lock clicks, causing the drawer to slide open easily.

Throwing a glance at me, she shakes my hand off of her arm and starts pulling out files and small books. At a loss as to what to do, I'm startled when she looks up from one of the books she's inspecting and speaks,

"What's your name?"

"Shara." I don't even think of not answering her as I feel my body going cold from nerves.

"Your name's in here," she says softly as she holds the book out a bit, so I can see the pages.

Sure enough, my name is written in a small box next to a number and the word, 'kept'. Looking down the list, I see the names of some of the workers who are still here and others that have disappeared. A sick feeling settles in my stomach at what this list means.

Putting the book down, she grabs a folder marked, "Collections" and starts flipping through it quickly. Stopping midway through, she inhales sharply before handing it over to me. There are times and dates as well as numbers shown. The page I'm looking at has the day we were taken.

"This is bad, really bad. If he finds out we found this, we'll be killed."

I'm too horrified to remember to keep my voice down. This was not what I was expecting when Bast had instructed me to get this woman into the house! Too late, I hear the warning screech of the dead at the same time the door handle starts turning. It feels like everything is frozen except for the twisting of the handle. I fall over with a soft 'ooph' as the woman tugs on my hand, my body sprawled behind the desk on top of the files and papers scattered on the floor.

"Who's there?!" A male voice asks sharply from the doorway, a hard edge to his tone.

I whimper quietly as cold fear courses through me. The person who uses this study has come, and there's nowhere for us to run or hide. A silent tear slides down my cheek as I pass into unconsciousness, my mind unable to handle the overwhelming level of horror at the situation.