Chapter 7: Thumbs

Kuro—

"How delightful," the Sire said, their voice smooth as silk and cold as winter. "We have unexpected guests."

My heart stopped. Every muscle in my body locked up. Beside me, I felt the girl go rigid, her hand still gripping my fur so tightly it hurt.

The Sire took a step forward, their robes whispering against the marble floor. Their face was still partially hidden in shadow, but I could see that smile. That terrible, knowing smile.

They knew exactly where we were.

Then—movement.

A rat.

Just a normal, common rat, scurrying across the throne room floor with the panicked energy of a creature that had accidentally wandered into the wrong place. Its tiny claws scratched against the marble, the sound impossibly loud in the silent room.

The Sire's head turned, following the movement. Their attention shifted

just for a moment

away from us.

I didn't breathe. Didn't move. The girl's grip on my fur tightened even more.

The rat disappeared into a crack in the wall.

The Sire stared after it for a moment, then—

The doors burst open.

A knight stumbled in, his armor clanking, his breath coming in short gasps like he'd been running. He dropped to one knee immediately, head bowed.

"My lord!" he said, his voice urgent. "We have a situation—an intruder in the castle!"

The Sire turned slowly, their attention now fully on the knight. I felt the pressure of their gaze lift from us like a physical weight being removed.

"An intruder?" the Sire said, their tone shifting from amused to annoyed. "In my castle? How... inconvenient."

"Yes, my lord. A man with black hair, horns—he's killed at least a dozen of our men. He's heading toward the upper levels. And the children... the children from the ritual chamber are missing."

Black hair. Horns.

Fuko.

That stubborn fool who'd kicked me aside in the dungeon. So he'd actually done it

fought his way toward "the man in charge," just like he'd said. A dozen men dead. Probably more by now, knowing him.

The Sire was silent for a moment. Then they turned, walking toward the throne. Toward that dried corpse sitting upright in its too-large crown.

They leaned in close.

I strained to hear, my ears swiveling forward. There was... something. A faint sound, barely perceptible. Like air moving through the halls, or the whisper of fabric against stone. Or maybe nothing at all. Perhaps just my own breathing, my own heartbeat pounding in my ears.

The Sire remained perfectly still, their head tilted slightly, as if listening to something only they could hear.

Or maybe they were just thinking. Praying. Going mad.

I couldn't tell.

The silence stretched on for several long seconds. The Sire didn't move. Just stood there, leaning toward that dead thing on the throne like it might offer answers.

Then the Sire straightened. And for just a moment

, just a brief flash

I saw something on their face that I hadn't expected.

Fear.

Raw, genuine fear.

It was gone almost immediately, masked behind that smooth, controlled expression. But I'd seen it. The girl had too—I felt her tense beside me.

The Sire turned back to the knight, their voice sharp and urgent despite the calm facade.

"Black hair? Horns? Red eyes?" Each word was precise, clipped. "You're certain? You saw these things yourself?"

"Y-yes, my lord. Multiple men reported the same—"

"How many men do we have in the upper levels?"

"Perhaps twenty, my lord, but—"

"Send every available guard. Lock down the throne room approaches. No one gets through. Do you understand? No one."

The knight hesitated. "My lord, if we send everyone, the lower levels will be—"

"Did I stutter?" The Sire's voice dropped to something dangerous. "Every. Available. Guard. Now."

"Yes, my lord!" The knight scrambled to his feet and ran from the room.

My mind raced. What was this? Fuko was just some cursed traveler—stubborn, resilient, but still just a man. Why would his description cause such terror? What had the Sire been doing, leaning toward that corpse like it could give answers?

And why did it feel connected to everything else happening here? The angel summonings. The failed transformations. The energy my master had sent me to investigate.

What are you, Fuko? I thought, watching the Sire's carefully controlled movements. What are you really?

The Sire stood there for a moment, perfectly still. Then they walked back to the throne, leaning in close to the corpse again. Their lips moved slightly, barely visible in the dim light. Speaking? To a corpse? The movement was brief. Subtle.

When they straightened, their expression was unreadable.

They moved toward a side door I hadn't noticed before, their robes flowing behind them. They paused at the threshold, looking back at the throne room one last time.

Their gaze swept across the space. Across the curtains where we hid.

I held my breath.

Then the Sire was gone, the door closing behind them with a soft click.

Silence.

I counted to ten. Then twenty. thirty.

Still nothing.

"Is... is it safe?" the girl whispered, her voice barely audible.

"Wait," I breathed back.

We waited. A full minute. The only sound was the soft crackling of the candles and our own careful breathing.

Finally, I moved. Slowly. Carefully. I poked my head out from behind the curtain, my ears swiveling, searching for any sound.

Empty.

The throne room was empty except for that corpse, still sitting there, still staring at nothing with those hollow eye sockets.

"Okay," I whispered. "It's clear."

We both slipped out from behind the curtain and immediately collapsed to the floor, our legs giving out from the tension we'd been holding. The girl let out a shaky breath, her whole body trembling like a leaf in the wind. I felt my own heart still hammering against my ribs, the adrenaline slowly draining away and leaving exhaustion in its wake.

That had been too close. Far too close.

For a long moment, neither of us moved. We just sat there on the cold marble floor, breathing, alive, trying to process what had just happened.

Finally, I stood up on shaky legs, shaking myself from nose to tail. The girl followed, pushing herself up with trembling arms, though she still looked unsteady.

We both found ourselves drawn toward the throne. Toward that thing sitting on it.

I didn't plan to approach it. My body just... moved. Like something was pulling me forward. The girl walked beside me, her bare feet whispering against the marble.

Up close, it was even worse.

The corpse was ancient. The skin had dried and pulled tight against the bones like old leather left too long in the sun—cracked, discolored, paper-thin. The royal robes it wore were elaborate—rich purple fabric with gold embroidery that must have cost a fortune—but they hung loose on the shrunken frame, several sizes too large. The crown sat crooked on its head, tilted to one side, too heavy for the fragile skull beneath it.

How long had it been sitting here? Weeks? Months? Years?

I thought about what I'd just witnessed. The Sire, leaning in close to this dead thing. Acting as if it could give counsel. As if it could speak.

Were they mad? Completely insane, talking to a corpse like it was still alive?

Or was there something more going on here? Some kind of ritual I didn't understand? A symbol of power—the dead king still "ruling" from his throne?

I needed to figure out my next move. The throne room was a dead end—literally. Whatever secrets this place held, they wouldn't be here. The real information would be in the private chambers. The study. Somewhere, the lord—or whoever was actually running this place—kept their secrets.

Somewhere I could find answers.

Beside me, the girl had moved even closer to the throne. She stood directly in front of it now, her head tilted back, looking up at the corpse.

She was staring into its hollow eye sockets.

Those empty, dark pits that had once held eyes. That had once looked out at the world, seen sunlight, seen faces, seen life.

Now they just stared at nothing. Empty. Endless. 

The girl's expression was strange—not frightened, exactly, but something else. Curious. Worried. Like she was trying to understand something fundamental. Trying to figure out what she was looking at, what it meant.

"What are you doing?" I whispered.

She didn't answer right away. Just kept staring into those hollow eyes, like she was searching for something in that darkness.

Then, slowly, almost dreamlike, she reached up. Her small hand extended toward the corpse's face, her fingers trembling slightly as they moved through the air.

"Don't," I said sharply, padding forward quickly and positioning myself between her and the throne.

Her hand stopped, hovering just inches from the dried, mummified skin.

"We don't touch it," I continued, my voice firm but quiet. "We don't know what it is. What it might do. Or what might happen if we disturb it?"

For a moment, she didn't move. Her hand stayed suspended in the air, fingers still reaching.

Then, slowly, she lowered it. But her eyes remained fixed on the corpse. On those hollow sockets staring at nothing.

"Is it... is it really dead?" she whispered.

I looked at the corpse again. At the dried, mummified flesh that barely looked human anymore. At the complete and utter stillness—no breath, no movement, no life.

"Yes?" I said in question.

"Then why..." She paused, struggling with the words. Her voice was small, confused, almost childlike. "Why was that old man talking to it? Like, could it answer? Like it was still... alive?"

That was a very good question.

One I didn't have an answer for.

"I don't know," I admitted, my tail flicking with unease. "Maybe they're mad.."

I trailed off, not wanting to voice the other possibility. The darker possibility.

That maybe there was something here we didn't understand. Something we couldn't see. Something that made the Sire's behavior not madness but something worse.

Something real.

The girl finally turned away from the corpse, but I could see the worry still etched on her face. The confusion. The fear of not understanding what she'd just witnessed.

"Come on," I said gently, trying to sound more confident than I felt. "We need to go. We need to find answers, and they're not here."

She nodded, following me as I headed toward one of the side passages.

But I caught her glancing back.

Looking at those hollow eyes one last time before we left them behind in the flickering candlelight.

I slipped out from behind the curtain. The girl followed, her movements surprisingly quiet.

We stood there for a moment, both of us staring at the throne. At the thing sitting on it.

"What... what was that?" the girl whispered.

"I don't know," I admitted. "But we're not staying to find out."

I started moving toward the doors that the knight had come through

the main entrance. But then I stopped.

No.

The throne room was just for show. Ceremonial. A place to impress visitors and hold court. The real secrets

wouldn't be here. They'd be in the lord's private chambers. His study. His bedroom. That's where people kept their secrets.

And that's where I needed to go.

I turned, heading for one of the side passages instead.

"Wait," the girl hissed behind me. "Where are you going? Shouldn't we escape?"

I paused, looking back at her. She was right, of course. The smart thing would be to get out of the castle. To run while the Sire was distracted.

But I had a mission. Answers to find.

And now, more than ever, I needed to understand what was happening here. What was the connection between the angel summonings and Fuko? Why did his description cause such fear?

"You should," I said. "You should leave the castle. Get to safety. Follow the path my shadow showed the others."

She stared at me. "What about you?"

"I have something I need to do first."

"Then I'm coming with you."

I blinked. "What? No. Absolutely not. It's too dangerous—"

"But—"

"No. This isn't a discussion. You'll only slow me down."

I turned away from her and padded toward the side passage. At the end of the corridor, a heavy wooden door stood between me and the private chambers. Perfect.

I could hear her footsteps behind me—small, hesitant, but following anyway.

I ignored her. I had work to do, and I didn't need a child tagging along. I'd proven my point. Now I just needed to get through this door and—

I reared up on my hind legs, reaching for the brass handle. My front paws landed on either side of it, and I tried to grip it, to twist it downward.

My pads slipped off the smooth metal immediately.

I tried again. Better positioning this time. More focus.

My paws slid off again, unable to find purchase on the polished brass.

One more attempt. I could do this. I just needed—

My paws slipped off a third time.

Behind me, I heard the smallest sound. Not quite a giggle. More like someone trying very hard not to giggle.

I landed back on all fours and sat down, staring at the door. My tail swished once. Twice.

The silence stretched.

"Do you need help?" the girl asked, her voice carefully innocent.

I didn't turn around. "No."

"Are you sure? Because it looks like—"

"I said no."

More silence. I could feel her standing there behind me. Watching. Waiting.

Finally, I sighed. "Fine. What?"

"I was just thinking," she said slowly. "About what I said before. About helping you."

I turned to look at her. She stood there in the dim candlelight, her expression perfectly serious now.

"Why?" I asked. "How could you possibly help me?"

She held up her hands.

Specifically, her thumbs.

I stared at them. At her. Back at her thumbs.

"...I don't understand."

"You're a cat," she said simply, and now there was the faintest hint of a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. "You don't have thumbs."

"I'm aware of my current anatomical limitations, thank you—"

"So you'll need someone to open doors. Turn handles. That kind of thing."

I opened my mouth to argue. Then closed it.

She... had a point.

A very good point, actually.

Embarrassing that I hadn't thought of it myself.

The girl's smile grew just a little wider. Sly. Green around the edges. That smile that said: I told you so.

"Fine," I said, trying to maintain some dignity. "But you do exactly what I say, when I say it. Understood?"

She nodded, still smiling that insufferable smile.

"And if things get dangerous

truly dangerous 

you run. don't wait for me. You just run. Agreed?"

Another nod.

"Good. Now..." I gestured toward the door with my tail. "A little help?"

Without a word, she walked past me—still wearing that sly grin—reached up, and turned the handle with her perfectly functional, opposable thumbs.

The door swung open with a soft click.

She looked down at me. "After you."

I walked through the doorway, my tail held high.