The Unfinished House
The letter had no catch in it anywhere. That was the catch.
Four hundred crowns for a fortnight's easy work: escort and appraise the household valuables of a mountain lord. For Captain Maren Vale - cashiered from her order for refusing to burn a village - and her company of six, it's the contract that finally clears their debts. A disgraced officer. An aging soldier one campaign past his best. A huntress who misses nothing. A priest whose God went silent. A thief who cannot leave a shut thing shut. A scholar denied every door, and the boy who writes their ballads.
The valley is quiet. The castle is magnificent. The Count is the most courteous host any of them has ever known - and his three wives have been so looking forward to company.
But no birds sing in this valley. The carriage driver never shifts his weight in the rain. The graves on the north slope bear no names - only years, spaced out like fence posts. The day staff hurry down the mountain before dark. And far beneath the oldest stones, something has been patiently turning pages for six hundred years.
The engagement ends on the last night of the year. The Count has never once told a lie. When his guests finally learn what he is - and what he isn't - that will be the most frightening thing on the mountain.
A gothic dark fantasy of hospitality and appetite, willing bargains and unwilling grief - Dracula's castle seen from the point of view of the dinner. For readers of T. Kingfisher, Katherine Arden, and anyone who ever wondered why the coach always arrives on time.
Some houses are haunted. This one is worse. This one is awake.
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