Susato could not sleep. She tossed and turned in her bed. Massive and black...with dripping jaws...and flaming eyes...The shadow-hound kept twisting through her mind, terrifying and looming, eyes boring straight into her.
Body hot, Susato pushed off the bedclothes and adjusted her white sleeping kimono. She pulled a dressing gown Lady Baskerville had purchased for her overtop her clothes and grabbed a small candle holder before cautiously stepping into the hallway.
The night was black and silent. Susato's steps were light and quiet as she navigated through the halls and then circled down the steep, curved stairwell. Her mind was fraught with images, darkness lying heavy beyond the halo of candlelight, which murmured just enough illumination to prevent a fall.
Susato reached the bottom of the steps and trailed into the wide entryway.
A sharp click. A low groan.
The candle guttered in Susato's hand as a breath of air issued into the room.
Something moved. A large, hunched shape. Bristling darkness. Foam hit the marble ground with a wet splat. Susato's throat squeezed shut. She inched back a step, the candle quivering in her hand.
Deep, lightless eyes blazed. The lantern above the inhuman shape threw an eerie orange hell-light upon its muscled haunches, filled its wretched eyes with sharp points of flame. The wet splat. Heavy breaths sawing between teeth. Pink foam. A scarlet-flexed muzzle.
Susato's hand flew up to her throat, her breath a wheeze, her heart beating hot and heavy in her mouth.
The lantern swung, and cast the light upward, concealing the black hunched thing. A flash of brilliant red, a gleam of metal. And a pale, smooth face. Expressionless, heavily shadowed, filled with sharp lantern glow. Narrowed eyes, black sockets, arched brows, and high, angled cheekbones.
"Miss Mikotoba."
Klint's voice eased away the vise of panic constricting Susato's throat. She stared at him, uncomprehending, a juddering breath spilling from her lips. She tried to speak, but nothing fled her mouth. And her thoughts were completely silent in her mind, no words forming in either Japanese or English. An utter, terrified blank.
"What are you doing out of bed at this ungodly hour?" Klint said.
"I—...I couldn't sleep."
The lantern swung forward as Klint moved, throwing light over the shape again. Something sparked. A gem. An intricate crest. That was Balmung's jewel-studded collar. Susato's shoulders eased, although the tremor had not left her hand.
It's just Balmung.
"Sleep has evaded me as well," Klint said, his face unreadable, voice pitched low.
He set the lantern down. Susato's eyes adjusted to the dim light. She could see them both now, although they were nearly colourless in the dark. Pale blue light streamed in from the window, suffusing the room with dim illumination, breaking over them in bars as Klint bent down to look at Balmung. He rubbed his jowls with a handkerchief.
"Went for some hunting to ease my nerves," Klint said.
"Is...Is there much to hunt at night?" Susato said.
"There is quarry that stirs in the darkness," Klint said.
"O-Oh...I must say, you and Balmung gave me quite the scare. I did not think anyone else was awake," she said and let out a short, shaky laugh.
"I had the same presumption," Klint said. He stood and turned his head towards her. She could feel his stare, although she could not really see his eyes in the light. "You should be asleep. It does not do for a woman to wander a house at night. You are liable to fall, or else have your intentions misconstrued."
"Well I—I just..."
"You just? What?" Klint snapped.
Susato flinched. "I was just...going to make some tea...to see if it would help my nerves."
"What reason could you possibly have to be so troubled?" Klint said, voice low and dark. "Or are you merely spying on the household? Would you violate our good graces in such an impertinent way?"
"No! Lord van Zieks, I do not...I do not understand why you are saying this."
"Just go to sleep, Miss Mikotoba. There is nothing to fear."
"I do worry about your safety. Of course I do! Even if only corrupt noblemen have died, I am still unsettled!"
Klint strode towards her, but stopped shy of the shadow of her candlelight.
"Your concern is appreciated, but entirely unnecessary. I assure you."
"Yes...Lord Barok van Zieks said as much. I just...Everyone has seemed so troubled. I suppose it has played on my nerves as well."
"Do not allow our troubles to unsettle you, Miss Mikotoba. Our lives have nothing to do with yours."
Susato nodded, eyelids fluttering against a sudden threat of tears. "I am...I am just going to make some tea. Then I will go. Forgive me for catching you unaware."
Susato began to walk away.
"Miss Mikotoba?"
She froze, a sudden chill clutching her spine. With a harsh shudder, she turned. Klint was still several feet away, little more than a shape in the gloom.
"Would you prepare a cup for me as well? I will join you in the drawing room."
Susato bowed deeply and hurried into the kitchen.
***
Susato sat in the drawing room and stared at the steaming cups of tea she had prepared. She desperately wanted to drink in the soothing warmth, but she waited for Klint.
At last, he entered. Susato stood and bowed. Klint bowed stiffly back. He lowered himself into an armchair across from her and took a long sip of tea. With less space between them and more illumination, Susato now realised that Klint's hair looked dark and smoother, as if it was wet and in the process of drying. He had probably washed his face to try to calm his nerves, or else to clear away the sweat and musk of the forest before retiring to Lady Baskerville's side, she wagered.
"I apologise that I kept you waiting. I had to let Balmung outside. Although, I thought he deserved a treat for accompanying me at such a late hour first," Klint said.
"Of course. He's a wonderful dog," Susato said.
She gave him a small, unsure smile.
"This tea is excellent. Forgive my harsh words, Miss Mikotoba. You have...You have long been a fine companion and guest," Klint said. "I spoke to you unfairly."
"I understand, Lord van Zieks."
"It was most graceless of me."
"I will recover from the offense and the startle both."
"You do know...that we are grateful for your presence, Miss Mikotoba?"
"Thank you, Lord van Zieks. I am very grateful to stay here. You have all done so much for me. I could never see you as indecorous or unkind."
"You credit me overmuch, Miss Mikotoba," Klint said, voice low and oddly burdened.
A sudden apprehension wormed its way into Susato's blood. "Are you worried about the baby, Lord van Zieks?"
"Hmm? Ah, yes. Of course. I am worried about the pregnancy, yes. The first was...was about this old when we lost them," Klint said. He set down his teacup. "Is that what is troubling you, Miss Mikotoba?"
Susato hesitated. "...I am worried, hearing that. However, no. That was not what was disturbing my sleep."
"Then was it truly out of concern over our health? I have told you it is unnecessary. To believe we could be targeted is utterly baseless," Klint said, tone ragged, tilting towards sharpness.
"I know. It's just...Mr. Sholmes said something the other day...I can't stop thinking about the monster doing this to people. The Professor is evil! Who says he will stop at the corrupt?" Susato said, fire leaking into her tone.
Klint rose to his feet. "Put it from your thoughts. It does not concern you."
Susato shrank back. He looked so powerful and severe, looming in the darkness.
"You should not let this matter interrupt...You should not think about this matter at all. No one we cherish...has yet to fall. Only....Only the corrupt," Klint said. His chest heaved quickly, a look of distress overtaking his features, eyes wide and horrified and unfocused. And then he fixed Susato with that smooth, impassive expression, eyes tight and bladed. "I will give you something so you may sleep. I am certain it will help us both."
Klint disappeared, giving Susato enough time to finish her tea and drink half of a second cup. He returned with an amber liquid, the light rolling through the glass as he placed it in her hand.
"Drink this. It will extinguish you like a lamp."
Susato smiled a little at his amusing word choice, then accepted the drink. The liquid shot heat down her throat—strong, sharp, and alcoholic.
"What was that, Lord van Zieks?"
"Just some brandy with a touch of sleeping tincture," Klint said and sank back down into his armchair, contemplating his own glass, eyelids resting low over his encumbered blue gaze.
They sat for a few moments in silence, the manor settling around them. A bat squeaked outside. Susato heard something fall.
"Lady Baskerville...said you used to go to the...budouen...vine...vineyard often," Susato said, words and lips moving at a different pace to each other, her thoughts shredding apart and drifting like gauze. A vast and deep sleepiness was settling over her, pulling at her consciousness, twisting it strangely. Her body suddenly felt heavy, so heavy. She did not think she could move.
"Yes, we did. I believe I mentioned that to you as well," Klint said.
He continued to speak, but his words were just a stream of indistinct sounds. Susato's vision turned bleary, a smudge of colour and light and shadow all bending into each other. She felt herself slide towards sleep, weird half-dreams beginning to roam across the drawing room. She tried to say something. Only a formless syllable issued from her throat.
Klint was suddenly in front of her. She felt his arms slide under her. His face was so sad. So very sad. So haunted. As he bent closer, it became cavernous with deep shadow. Just darkness where the eyes and mouth should be, cheekbones ridges that presided over sheer hollows. As he lifted her, her head lolled. Her cheek pressed into his shoulder, the red fabric of his coat stiff and scratchy against her skin. She could smell musk and lavender and a low tinge of copper.
Susato watched the shadows moving at the edge of his jaw, stretching up into his ears, then shivering upon his throat, running across it like torn flesh.
Hazy images floated before her eyes. A snarling face. Snapping jaws. A pale hand. An owl circling in the moonlight. The red of his overcoat. The hair against his neck, dark and dripping. Wet splat. Wet splat. The orange light. The beast's soulless stare.
And then she was on a flat surface, no longer rocking on the boat. No longer on her way to Britain, no longer pulling through the fog. No longer surrounded by bizarre, dark shapes.
Klint hovered over her for an instant. Said something. Or maybe he didn't. Susato could barely tell if she was awake or asleep, if it was silent or the air was loud.
Then footsteps. The click of her door shutting. Susato was alone and adrift. Then dragged under a thick pall of sleep.