Rin didn't sleep.
Again. At this point, he was beginning to suspect that sleep had personally declared war on him.
He sat beside the window, staring at the darkness outside. The forest was quiet.
Too quiet. Somewhere beyond those trees was the strange doorway he'd discovered.
A doorway that had spoken to him. A doorway that had called him—
my child.
Rin rubbed his eyes.
"That's not helpful."
He looked toward the desk. The silver key was sitting there. It had opened the doorway or rather, it had awakened it.
And whatever was behind that doorway clearly knew something about him.
But Rin wasn't going back yet. Not tonight.
He had learned his lesson. When something ancient suddenly appeared and started speaking to him, charging toward it without preparation was usually a terrible idea.
He needed information first and there was one person he could ask.
Someone who knew more about Rin's existence than almost anyone else.
