I bang my head on the table. My head bounces and adds to my growing headache.

Why can't this just be a simple, 'they want Ran because of such and such' answer?

But noooo. The books give me ten thousand reasons a Timber Wolf bond is near impossible and ten thousand more reasons why one should never let out that you have a Timber Wolf bond and nothing about WHY.

Hans walks in and looks around the room that is haphazardly strewn with old books... some so old I can't even read them, which is doubly annoying.

The book in front of my face is one such book. It's older, drawn on vellum instead of paper and handwritten instead of pressed like the newer books. I'm trying to make my Gift morph into something a little useful, like understanding other languages. But nope... I only screw up my face in concentration and give myself a headache staring at pages that look a lot like lines and squiggles. I can only understand other human emotions and speak with animals. Grand.

"You constipated, minx?"

I jerk upright, banging my elbow on the table.

I rub it and narrow my eyes at Hans.

He watches me with a blank face, his hand on his salt and pepper beard. "You need a break. Come on, the books will be waiting after you've had a nap."

I blink owlishly, yawning.

"Alright," I say, realizing the wisdom of his words. "Let me put these up."

I get up, stumbling over a book.

"Find anything?" Hans asks.

"Nope." I'm tempted to kick one of the books, but Jill would kill me. She's convinced such things are sacred. My heart hurts. My head hurts. My entire body hurts after the beating I've put it through over the last few days, and tomorrow I'll have to do it all over again.

I open my mouth as Hans nods and turns to go.

"On second thought, you could--"

He sneezes. I raise a brow.

He sniffles, sneezing again. "Sorry, minx. You were saying?"

"Nevermind," I say, unsure if he is truly allergic to books or just faking it to get out of helping me clean.

With Hans you never know.

I pick up another book when Ran descends on the room, sniffing around. She yawns, then bowls over a set of books that are likely older than this city.

A moan escapes my lips. "Ran," I begin, banging my head on the table again.

I just got those stacked back up! I huff, about to snap in the midst of a painful headache and exhaustion... but then I notice she's sniffing again, right where the books were.

She perks her ears up, her eyes sparkling and tail wagging minutely.

Something's here, she says, sticking her nose in my ear.

I bat her off, getting down on my knees.

She moves one last book over, and it reveals a tiny mark in the floor.

I wipe away dust from the spot and cough in the cloud she made when she knocked over the books.

I place a hand on the mark, which is shaped like a weird S in the middle of a triangle, and something clicks. Ran's wide eyes meet mine.

Uh-oh.

My scream's cut off when we're abruptly dumped into a black hole.​