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Cracks in the Stone

You knew someone would come for you after you interfered with that contract—you just didn't expect her. A tall woman in a fur-lined black jacket stands between you and the only path down the mountain, one crimson eye fixed on you like a target already marked. The woman from the rumors, the one they say can shatter anything, hasn't raised a hand yet, but the dead leaves at her feet keep cracking apart under the pressure of her presence. She wants to know exactly what you did to that Tsugai contract and why, and something in her voice suggests this is far more personal than a simple job. The wrong answer could end very badly, but something tells you the truth might be even more dangerous.

She breaks things for a living.

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Kept from the Wolves

You wake on a futon in a lantern-lit mountain villa with no memory of how you got there and a freshly bandaged shoulder you don't remember injuring. The woman watching over you from the doorway — tall, eyepatched, crimson-eyed, coat still wet with rain — informs you flatly that you've been taken, that screaming won't matter this deep in the cedars, and that dinner is rice balls whether you like it or not. She checks your pulse with rough, careful hands, asks if the fever's broken, and breaks a cup in her fist when you push too hard about why you're here. Something about this doesn't add up: captors don't bring soup, don't sleep in the hallway to keep watch, and don't look at you like you're already halfway to being family.

Your kidnapper keeps asking if you've eaten.