Chapter 27: Emily's First Master

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Chapter 27: Emily’s First Master

“Hindergog, where are we going?”

“To your first master, of course.”

He gave answers as though they were perfectly obvious. But every answer he gave made me more lost than I was before.

“My master? Can’t you tell me anything about him? Even a name?”

“Oh, I think you will recognize this teacher right away.”

My heart picked up speed. Someone I recognize. Can it be? Who else would I recognize here? It must be. My mother! My teacher will be my mother!

“Miss Emily, your master is not human.”

My heart sank. He really can read my mind, can’t he?

It’s hard to describe the way time worked in the Netherworld. It’s like I’d walk for what seemed like a long time, but I didn’t feel tired. And as soon as I’d think, ‘I’m tired, I wish I was there,’ I was there.

That’s how it was at that moment. I thought, ‘I’m ready. I want to meet this teacher, even if it’s not my mom.’

I no sooner that it when out of the mist appeared a small building. As I got closer, I saw that it was made of wood and it was weathered grey. It had a roof thatched in straw blackened by time. The windows were covered in wood screens with old Chinese carvings, the lacquer aged to an almost blackish-red patina. A path of stone steps led to a carved redwood door. The little house looked like it had come out of the Chinese countryside.

As we approached the front door, Hindergog stopped. Panic seized me. Is he going to leave me here alone without him?

“Are you leaving me?” I asked.

“Yes, dear one, this you must do alone.”

“But Hindergog, I don’t know what to do. I’m scared and you’re the closest thing to someone I know in this strange place. Please stay with me.”

He shook his head and his dog lips curled into a small smile. “Dear Emily, you are in capable hands here. Your task is at hand. Learn well, young one.”

With that, he vanished into the fog and mist.

Sweat pooled in my palms and I stood as still as a stone in front of the small, cottage door. I felt like an idiot standing there. A voice in my head said, ‘Knock, moron’. I think that was Muriel’s voice.

But I did as the voice said and I knocked. I rapped softly on the door, but I could barely hear it. The incessant grey fog seemed to suck up sound like a vacuum cleaner. I knocked again but harder.

No answer. I stood in the unearthly silence of the unearthly place and waited for something to happen.

Just when I thought that maybe I should leave, the door slowly opened. As the door swung open, I saw a small figure in the shadow of the doorway. A very small figure.

Although I’d never met her before, I recognized my teacher right away. She looked exactly as I’d pictured her when I listened to Hindergog tell his tale. My teacher was none other than Madame Wong.

I felt relief that the kindly, wise woman from Hindergog’s story would be my first teacher. My relief was short lived.

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