Xaxac loved his new outfit. It was not, as Alice had led him to believe it may be, any sort of winter attire. Instead, he wore an undershirt made of some sort of material he had never felt before. It was light and soft, and instantly soaked up any sweat he produced standing in the sun, and protected the white button up he wore from obtaining any stains. Even the overshirt was softer and thinner, with buttons made of some sort of metal rather than wood. Both the britches and his boots were jet black, though the soft stockings he wore under them were a sparkling white and made of the same soft fabric as his shorts and undershirt. The boots were so shiny he could see himself in them, and he rather liked what he saw. He always liked the way he looked, and felt, after a good bath. He had never had such nice clothes before, except for the things his mother made from his own hair, which he only really wore in the winter. This outfit breathed much better, and he found the heat wasn’t quite so oppressive as he approached the doorway, floating on a cloud of competence and joy. He felt quite unlike himself with his new job and his new clothes, and felt that he was moving up in the world, ready to become the person who had such nice things.

This evaporated a little when Mrs OfAgalon scowled at him, and spoke as if he had no business in her nice house, even though he certainly looked nice enough to be there.

“Why are you carrying that?” She asked as if the action was the most foolish thing she had ever seen.

“My clothes?” Xac asked, and when he saw no change in her expression he explained, “Cause it’s my clothes. My mommy made um for me. I wouldn’t gonna just leave um sittin there. Want me to run it back to the house?”

“You most certainly will not go running through the fields in such finery,” She said, aghast at the idea, “Throw those away. You won’t have any more need for them.”

“No,” Xac said instinctively, because it was a ridiculous request.

The housekeeper looked as if she had never been so insulted in all her life, though Xac didn’t understand in the slightest what problem she could possibly have with him. She was obviously not someone who was used to being denied anything, and raised her hand to slap him in the side of the head. Xaxac, however, was faster, took a step back, and ducked to avoid the blow.

“Hey now!” He said, and found himself repeating his father, “Don’t start nothin, won’t be nothin. We don’t hit people.”

The entire kitchen staff, including his mother and sister, stopped in their work. The clinking of glass, the sound of chatter, even the sound of metal on metal produced by the spit, fell silent. The housekeeper stared down at him, and he stared up at her, and time stopped completely. The silence dragged on for an eternity, before Abby appeared in the doorway behind the housekeeper and spoke.

“Honey, why don’t you give me them and I’ll run um back to the house?” She asked.

“I can run um back, Mama, y’all look busy.”

“Ain’t no trouble,” Abby said, and took the clothes from her son’s arms.

“It isn’t any trouble,” Mrs OfAgalon corrected.

“Well, if it ain’t no trouble,” Xac conceded, “I appreciate it.”

“You just do everything Mrs OfAgalon says,” Abby told him, “She’ll get you settled.” She turned to the housekeeper and added, “You won’t find a better boy. Xac’s a real hard worker.”

“What a waste,” The housekeeper said, as if there was some great meaning that neither Xaxac, nor his mother, understood. “Come with me. You said your name was Xac?”

“My friends call me Xac,” Xaxac said as he waved to his mother and watched her hurry in the direction of the slave quarters, “It’s short for Xaxac.”

“Well, Xaxac,” the housekeeper said as she led him through the kitchen and into a room that seemed to be used as some sort of storage, “I’m sure the master has some reason for selecting you. You’ve gotten quite lucky. It’s a rather good position.”

“Thank ya,” Xac said as he followed her up a wooden staircase, paused on the landing, thinking that perhaps they would come out the wooden door there, but she ascended another set of stairs, so he followed her.

The inside of the house was not as grand as he had expected. It seemed to just be a poorly lit, undecorated, wooden affair. There were no pictures on the walls, as his mother had described, which disappointed him to no end. They came out of the second staircase onto a plain corridor with bare wooden walls and a floor made of the same materials that had been scuffed in places. Xac had expected better, but he hid his disappointment well.

Then Mrs OfAgalon opened a door, and Xac followed her through it-

Into a fairy tale.

A lush green carpet sat on the polished floor, and portraits of several people, all as beautiful as Master Agalon were hung on plastered white walls. The hall was lined with shining, dark wooden doors with sparkling metal handles, and every so often a table or shelf was laid out with plants that gave off intoxicatingly beautiful scents.

Xac loved it here.

“These are the master’s private chambers,” Mrs OfAgalon said as she opened another door and walked inside.

Xac followed her and did not even try to contain his excitement. The room held more furniture, and more treasures, than he had ever seen. Everything was a sturdy, dark wood, sparklingly clean, and more thick, green carpets covered the hardwood floors. There was a fireplace, with couches and a plush armchair for lounging, a shelf full of books, an angled writing desk with a quill, pen, and papers laid out neatly, situated before a huge window that looked out over the fields, a table with two chairs that seemed to have been laid out for casual dining, and a huge curio cabinet filled with things that he could not name. The heat of the kitchen was gone, and a cool breeze moved through the open windows, and right through his light, comfortable clothes.

Xac loved it here.

“And this is where you’ll be working,” Mrs OfAgalon said as she opened another door and stepped inside.

Xac followed her, and though he liked this room less, because it was smaller, he was still impressed, and still much happier to be working here than he had been out in the field. The room contained a four poster bed larger than the one at home that he and his entire family slept on, covered in quilts and pillows. There were two large, wooden wardrobes taking up the far wall with a door between them, two small tables with drawers on either side of the bed, and a wash basin with all sorts of soaps, creams, and the like, that Xac had never seen before but was intensely interested in. There was also a large dressing mirror, and a smaller mirror on a sort of table, the likes of which he had never seen, but which had many drawers and a small chair, and the surface of which was absolutely covered in different porcelain containers and pretty little storage boxes. The wall facing the fields had two windows, which were open to let in the breeze, and the others were all covered in beautiful paintings.

“As the house staff will not be allowed in here during your adjustment period,” Mrs OfAgalon said as she fluffed the pillows, “This room is to be your sole responsibility until such time as the master sees fit to open it back up to the staff. The work has been finished today, but starting tomorrow, you’ll be expected to perform the cleaning yourself.”

“Great!” Xac said, and saw no reason to hide his joy, “So what do I do?”

“Pay attention,” Mrs OfAgalon said, as if she were under the impression that he was not paying attention, “I’ll have the cleaning supplies brought up with your breakfast. Everything must be dusted and polished every day, including the interiors of the drawers and cabinets. It isn’t difficult, but if you do it incorrectly, you’ll damage the wood. Use only water on the wood. Use a mixture of vinegar and water on the glass, both mirrors and windows, and do not use smooth coth- it leaves streaks. Use a small amount of soap on the porcelain- but never enough to make suds, and do not get any inside the containers, as it will damage the master’s things. Do not use excess water on anything metal, as it breeds rust. Use water on the walls, and soap only if it gets particularly dirty. New help is apt to miss the windowsills, but rest assured that I will be checking them.”

Xac tried very hard to memorize everything she was saying, because he suspected she would not tell him twice.

MrsOfAgalon opened the door between the wardrobes, but did not go inside, and Xac instantly saw why. It was much too small.

“This is the water closet,” She said matter-of-factly, “I’m told it is something of an indoor outhouse, and as you must realize from that description, must be kept spotlessly clean. Scrub everything with soap and water, especially far down into the seat.” She seemed to take some great, derisive pleasure from telling him this, but Xac shrugged because he didn’t understand why she was giving him the look she was. He had spent his youth shoveling horse dung, so that chore wasn’t particularly bothersome to him.

“Every morning you need to awake at daybreak,” the housekeeper went on, “to wash and refill the basin from the pump in the water closet so it will be ready for the master when he awakens.”

Xac nodded. He wasn’t particularly worried about that. His mother came to work at four in the morning; she was up far before daybreak and would simply wake him up with her so they could go to work together. Apparently they served breakfast at the house, which he hadn’t known and was eager to try. Though that did remind him of something.

“I can’t eat meat,” he said, “It makes me sick.”

“That doesn’t make sense,” Mrs OfAgalon said, and glared at him as if she believed he was lying in order to make her life more difficult.

“Why don’t it make sense?” Xac asked, “Some foods make some folk sick.”

“You’ll eat what you’re given,” She told him. “I expect most people are more grateful for the things they get. Meat is expensive.”

Xac checked the depth of his pockets and considered how much of the meat he could smuggle home to his father.

Mrs OfAgalon took his silence for submission, and stared around the room, then said aloud, “What am I forgetting?”

Xac shrugged.

“Every Saturday,” she said, “You need to strip the bedding, the window treatments, and any other fabric, and have it ready for the laundress. The bed itself also has to be unpacked, washed, and restuffed, so roll it from the frame and have it waiting.

“Yes mam,” Xac said.

“Repeat everything I’ve said back to me,” Mrs OfAgalon demanded.

“Water on the wood, water and vinegar on the glass, damp cloth on the metal, water on the walls except when it’s dirty, then a little bit of soap, little bit of soapy water on the porcelain, but not enough to make suds, don’t get anything on the inside, but a shitton of soap on the water closet, like really get in there, wash and refill the fancy basin thing every morning, and every saturday get the fabrics ready for the laundry folk.” Xaxac repeated.

“Do not curse,” Mrs OfAgalon told him.

“So do we just not wash the rugs and the floors?” Xac asked, “Seems like that’d get dirty.”

Mrs OfAgalon looked furious, and Xac was beginning to understand her character enough to know why. She had forgotten to tell him something, but he had figured it out on his own, and the idea that he could do that infuriated her.

“The rugs will go with the laundress to be beaten on the first Saturday of every month,” she said, “And while they’re gone you will clean and wax the floors. Doing that with too much frequency will damage them.”

“Perfect,” Xac said, “Got it. So do I get started now? You said everything was already done for today.”

“Everything has already been done today,” she said, and moved for the door, “These are additional duties.”

“In addition to what?” Xac asked.

“The primary job of a pleasure slave,” Mrs OfAgalon said, “Is to keep the master happy.”

“Ain’t that everybody’s job?” Xac asked as he watched her walk out the door and close it. He stared at the closed door for a few seconds before he stepped forward to follow her.

The knob would not turn.

He knitted his eyebrows in confusion.

“Hello?” He asked, and was greeted by silence.

“Hello?” He asked again, and again there was nothing.

“Mrs OfAgalon?” Xac called out to the empty sitting room beyond the door. “Mrs OfAgalon? The door won’t open! Hello?”

He tried again, but was afraid that if he tried harder, he may break the expensive door, so he ran to the window, thinking that perhaps he could climb out. He had heard that in big houses doors had locks, and it was just like Mrs OfAgalon to lock him in. He saw the fields from the window, which meant that the kitchen should be below him.

He was very high up. Xaxac had not registered how high he was on the third floor when he had walked it, but there wasn’t really any chance that he could jump from the window, even if he dangled, and expect to get down without hurting himself. But he could perhaps get someone’s attention so that they could come and let him out.

“Hey!” He shouted, leaning halfway out the window, “Hey! Y’all in the kitchen! Hey! The housekeeper went and locked me in! I’m stuck! Mama! Allie! Hey! Y’all hear me!”

He was confused when he got no response, so he raised his voice, shouting even louder, shouting with everything with his lungs.

“MAMA!” he yelled, “MOMMY! I KNOW YOU CAN HEAR ME!”

Abby came darting out of the kitchen, and looked up at him with red, swollen eyes.

“Honey, I can’t,” She said quickly, darting her head in every direction before she looked back up at him, “We ain’t gonna be able to talk for a little bit, till your trainin’s over.”

“My trainin is over!” Xac yelled, “That fool done went and locked me in here out of meanness! She didn’t even leave me nothin! I can’t even do a damn thing in here!”

“Quit hollerin, baby,” Abby said, “Quit hollerin and… take it as a vacation. Try an relax for a little bit. Everythin’s gonna be alright.”

“Get somebody to come up here and let me out!” Xac yelled, “I’m stuck!”

“Honey, that’s just how it’s gonna be for a little bit,” Abby said, “You gotta stay up there a little while.”

“But I ain’t… I’m supposed to be locked in here?” Xac asked in confusion.

“You ain’t supposed to talk to nobody, baby,” Abby explained.

“What? Why? What’d I do?” Xac asked.

“You didn’t do nothing,” Abby said, “But you’re gonna stay up there a little while. He’ll let you out once you learn how to… once everything gets straightened out.”

“What’s gotta be straightened out?” Xac asked.

“Honey, listen,” Abby risked a frightened glance at the kitchen, “I gotta get back to work by the time she gets down here. Just be good, alright? Just be real nice. Just do everythin he says. You’re gonna live up there for a little bit. You ain’t gonna come home for a while. You got a real nice place up there. Just be good, ok? Just try and… just try and be quiet, and nice, and polite and respectful, and everything’s gonna be ok. I love you, baby. I gotta go. Just be good.”

Xac watched her walk hurriedly back into the kitchen and ran her words over and over in his mind. He was living here? In the big house? In this fancy room? But he wasn’t allowed to talk to anyone?

He walked back to the door and tried, once again, to open it, but it wouldn’t budge.

This was fine. His mother was right, it was a vacation. He could relax, until the morning when he started work. For now, no one expected anything of him, which was a rare and welcome occurrence.

But why was he being cut off? Why was he being isolated? Why wasn’t he allowed to talk to anyone?

Right.

Because he was a monster.

Because he was a monster, and Agalon knew it, and he had been looking for him. That’s why he had been out on the fields studying the people working there. He was looking for Xaxac. He had remembered buying a monster, and had realized that he probably needed to isolate it from the rest of his slaves, because monsters were dangerous.

Xaxac took a deep breath and steeled himself.

He just had to prove that he wasn’t dangerous. He had to do what his mother had said and be nice, quiet, and polite. He had to be a model slave, a model person, who could never be mistaken for a monster. He had to keep his room clean and tidy, keep himself presentable. He could do that. He could do that with no problems.

For the next few weeks.

He didn’t know what he was going to do when the moons grew full.

He sat on the bed and wrang his hands, lost in thought, running the situation over and over in his mind. His mother would talk to him before then. She wouldn’t ignore him, no matter how scared she was of Mrs OfAgalon. She would tell him what to do.

Maybe he would see Agalon again. Maybe he could just come clean, tell him that he couldn’t control it and ask for chains. If they didn’t do something, he would destroy the nice room, maybe the whole house. Xac knew he could break that door down with his shifter strength, could chew through all the nice furniture, or rip it up with his claws.

He couldn’t prove that he wasn’t a monster, because he was a monster.

He was afraid he was going to cry, and he was breathing too much, too fast, so much that it felt like it wasn’t enough, so he got up, smoothed the bedding out, and began to pace. He had to do something, anything, to get his mind off the horrible events were going to transpire in his future, so he began to open drawers and inspect their contents, tried to come up with some sort of cleaning schedule for his workday tomorrow, so that he could fill his mind up with that, with anything other than the thoughts of the monster that would emerge when the moons were full.

The drawers were all full of various sundries, things he expected were refills for the containers on the vanity and the washbasin, containers that he had no desire to open because Mrs OfAgalon had been so particular about them, so he moved on to the wardrobe. The first one was full of the finest clothes he had ever seen, neatly arranged by fabric weight, which he kept in mind because he suspected he would be the one to hang them after they were laundered. The shelf above was filled with linens, which he didn’t understand because there was no need for extra linens since they would be washing and replacing the ones on the bed, and he made a mental note to ask Mrs OfAgalon about them the next chance he got. There were several pairs of boots and shoes neatly arranged on the bottom shelf. He knelt and opened the drawers below to find they were full of the sort of clothes that folded, like underthings and the tights he had seen Master Agalon wearing in the field.

It suddenly hit him that he was in Master Agalon’s room. Mrs OfAgalon had said it was his ‘private chambers’. That meant that he would be in there, at some point, and he had been much kinder than Mrs OfAgalon. He seemed to like Xac. He thought he was cute. He acted as if he wanted a shifter, and what Abe had said made sense. Shifters were rare. It was possible that he wanted one because they were rare, but he didn’t want him to hurt the other slaves. He had called Xac a pet. He had been nice. Xac could talk to him, could sort this whole thing out.

He closed the drawer, stood, and opened the other wardrobe.

It was empty.

That was strange. Nothing else in the room was empty. That made no sense. Xac tilted his head, knelt, and opened the first of the drawers below the hanging space.

It was empty.

So were the others.

Xac closed them and stood, looked around the room, and for lack of anything better to do, stepped inside the empty wardrobe. He was still small enough to fit, though not by much, and he closed the door behind him. It was dark, and for a moment he imagined that he could open the door, and by virtue of having been inside the wardrobe, it would change something. He could come out into another world, a world where the door was no longer locked. He put one hand on the back of the door, and another on the back wall of the wardrobe and paused.

The texture of the back of the wardrobe was strange, different from the rest of it. It wasn’t smooth and unbroken, but it wasn’t coarse in a random way like untreated wood. It felt as if the change was intentional, as if someone thought the wardrobe needed some texture to the back and decided to add it with purpose and intention in a pattern. The other three walls were perfect and unbroken. Xac opened the door to let in some light and ran his fingers over the pattern.

The back of the wardrobe was covered in the same strange, repeating symbol. Four lines were carved vertically with a diagonal line running through them, then there was a space, then four more lines with another diagonal line running through them. Xac had never had reason to know his numbers beyond the basics, but he knew that the entire back wall was full of them, that same symbol, repeated over and over.

He knitted his eyebrows together and slid his thumb against one of the diagonal lines.

His thumbnail fit perfectly.

But the wood was so thick and strong… it would take so long to carve anything into it with a fingernail.

Goosebumps covered his flesh and he stepped out of the wardrobe and looked inside. They were scratched so lightly that they weren’t really visible from where he was standing, but he bent again and ran his fingertips over them. You could see them up close, and there were so many of them.

Xaxac suspected that someone had been locked in here before him.

And they had been here for a very long time.