TWO

Days passed by quickly working at the Inn.

Under the instructions of the owner of the establishment, Ms Grier, I worked as hard as possible to be as good as Fran and Jessa. Fran is adept in her work, doing everything to a level of perfection I fail to reach. And Jessa is the perfect face of the Inn, her charisma charming every client to stay an extra night consistently.

And I'm...getting used to this place. I've started preaching on my days off, knocking on doors and circling through local events whenever I get the chance. There hasn't been much reaction aside from feigned interest and mutters of disagreement and curse words.

Jessa quickly informed me that not many people have a Tani here. The Ice Panther is killed each year during the annual Hunt, and another possible Tani is seen as a dangerous predator.

So people haven't taken to me very kindly.

However, Jessa and Fran have been kind to me, teaching me the ropes when Ms Grier had little patience for it. But they have been on edge, over these past few days. Jessa tries to appear confident, but it's clear she is anxious about the potential for this Hunter's arrival. The whole village buzzes with anticipation, gossip and rumour circling so viciously that it's instilled fear in everyone.

Despite this, I'm not convinced this Hunter is everything people make him out to be. Rumour has it, he's a Summoner who doesn't use his powers, instead using skill and force alone to hunt this creature he has become so obsessed with.

I just...can't be behind it.

***

A tight grip shaking my shoulder wakes me. 

It’s still dark out, my conception of time skewed all over the place. Jessa’s face fills my gaze, her mass of dark curls illuminated by the swinging bulb above her head.

“He’s here.”

“Who's he?”

“Him. The hunter,” she whispers. 

Sitting up, I feel my heart falter for a moment. The hunter. This is what we have dreaded. We have talked about it for the past week, and now he has arrived. 

“What time is it?” I question, rubbing my bleary eyes as I sit up. Rain assaults the windows, the sound almost deafening as Jessa helps me to my feet. 

“Just past midnight. Ms Grier is speaking to him now,” Fran whispers. I hadn’t realised she had been lurking near the doorway, a burgundy shawl wrapped over her shoulder. 

The girls impatiently wait for me to pull my own clothes over my shuddering limbs, tapping their feet and whispering between each other. I’m not sure whether my shaking is attributed to this sudden onset of a thundering storm, or whether I’m anxious about the hunters arrival. The myths and legends spun around his name are enough to have the bravest soul cowering in a dark corner. 

Together, the three of us pad down the hallway, the carpet soaking up the hurriedness of our footsteps. Jessa’s eyes glint with excitement, however Fran looks apprehensive. I remember the first day I arrived, when they hid in fear of the hunter arriving. Now Jessa is acting as though it’s a sight to behold. 

“Yes, we have a vacancy. Will a single room do you fine?” It’s Ms Grier’s voice. It’s firm, no ounce of fear to be dug up from the timbre of her tone. She knows well we need the business, so there is no other choice but to offer him a room. Luckily for her, she doesn’t have to wait on him. 

He responds, but his words are lost between a crack of thunder, vibrating through the wooden doorframe I cling to. We hang out of a vacant room used for storage, using the shadows to conceal ourselves. If we peer around the corner just enough, we can see his shoulder and arm, and part of Ms Grier's back.

"You'll be in room four. I'll escort you," Ms Grier offers. Silently, we all fall back into the storage room, pulling the door closed enough to leave a crack, a thin strip of dull light streaming through. Fran's face is void of all expression, her eyes vacant. Jessa has a brilliant smile on her face, no longer frightened of this Hunters presence.

A floorboard groans right outside our door, the creak of the wood enough to alert us that the hunter passes by. Fran holds my forearm, gripping so tight it burns. It subsides as his footsteps do, the door closing behind him as per Ms. Grier's instructions.

I finally loosen a breath. I saw nothing of him, but his presence still lingers in the air. Or maybe that's his scent, like he blew fresh snow and pine with him in through the door.

Suddenly the door flings open.

The assault of light is accompanied by Ms. Grier's accusatory gaze. "Which one of you are going to tend to his room?"

My heart nearly falters at the sight of her, as if she didn't know she was in there the whole time. Ms. Grier claims to not be a Summoner, but Jessa suspects she keeps it hidden for the sake of her customers. Summoners are common enough in this Province, but are still shunned for their abilities. It would hinder business if anyone suspects the stable figure that is Ms. Grier to be a Summoner.

"Tend?" Jessa asks meekly. As fair as Ms. Grier has been so far, she not only has an intimidating air about her, but also a look too. Her features are soft with a loose jawline and rounded cheeks, but her eyes are sharper than a shard of ice, and the colour of it too.

"I understand it's early in the morning, but shake that brain fog away. Bring him his linen and inquire if he wants any food," Ms Grier demands, looking at everyone one of us in turn. It's basic protocol, but  everything feels different with him here. None of us are willing to walk in there and face the monster that rumour conjured up. Except he's real, and we have to serve him.

Fran suddenly speak up. "Jessa will do it."

"Fran...why me?" she gapes.

"You're the one who didn't believe in him in the first place," she replies.

"I was just saying that."

Ms. Grier clears her throat, drawing our attention back to her. In her shoulders, I can see the tension, the burden of having this client on her property, his motive unknown clearly getting to her and her sturdy personality. I've noticed recently that she has an obsession with control, that Jessa walks the fine of everyday. But Jessa doesn't have much of a remaining family, so Ms. Grier was her full time carer growing up.

"Jessa, go sort through the towels and attend to his room. He's not going to kill you," Ms. Grier demands flatly. "You two go back to your rooms and get some sleep. One of you will be taking Jessa’s shift in the morning."

Turning on the heel of her shoe, she walks down the hallway, disappearing into the shadows with only her fading footsteps lingering.

The girls and I exchange wary glances.

"I regret everything I said. Please, one of you take this for me?" Jessa begs, looking between us with widened eyes which seem to mirror our own fear. But as much as I feel bad for her, one of us has to do it, and there is no way Fran and I are going to volunteer. Perhaps we are just being dramatic, and this man is nothing more than a client looking for a room to stay.

"No way. Ms. Grier gave you the instructions. If he tries to kill you, just scream," Fran tells her, crossing her arms over her stomach as shivers. It is cold in here, but not from the snow outside. It's like he brought a draft in with him, full of ice, wind and fear. People's fear, from far-reaching places.

Jessa glares her way. "Thanks Fran, so comforting."

I grab Fran's forearm, looking at Jessa with concern. "Fran and I better go to bed. We have to get up early to do your job in the morning."

Jessa tucks her arms around herself, nodding numbly.

"He's not going to hurt you. He's probably just like any other client," I assure her. Likely, we let this get to our heads, allowing this rumour to flourish into pure fear. We will tend to him like any other client, he will leave in a few days, and that will be that.

"Okay, but do listen out. I will scream," Jessa says, feigning amusement, before she turns away, but there is not any flicker in her eyes.

***

I'm woken by Fran's insistent shaking.

Rubbing my eyes drowsily, I prop myself on my elbows, looking toward Fran, who wraps a finger through a tendril of tawny hair insistently; a nervous trait of hers that I noticed the day I started work here. She is staring at Jessa, who is shoving a bare leg through loose pants.

"Tell us everything," Fran is saying. Sitting up, I let my mind rake over last nights happenings. From the Hunter arriving, Jessa being assigned to his room, me hardly sleeping last night, listening out for screams that never came.

"There's not much to tell. You were right, he's relatively normal aside from..." Jessa draws off. She hides her expression by turning to the one small mirror we are forced to share between us. With adept precision, she tangles a rubber-band through her thick curls. Still, I notice the slight quiver in her fingers.

"Aside from what?"

"Let's just say he's very obviously a Summoner. Very obviously," she murmurs, turning back around. She has rogue on her cheek, lips tinted rose. She looks pretty, but makeup? The three of us have never bothered with our appearances much, aside from touching up enough to satisfy Ms Grier.

"What does that mean? Did he say anything to you?" I chime in, my blatant curiosity getting the better of my silence.

Jessa frowned. "He didn't say a word to me. He completely ignored me."

Of course. Most customers don't bother uttering a word to the staff, but I suppose I thought this time would be different. I'm writing my own story about him, before I've even had the chance to meet him. But how could I not be curious? A man blows in with the wind, carried by the rumours and tales spun around him. A Summoner, nonetheless, which is a very fascinating concept for a foreigner.

Fran stands, uncomfortable. "Were there weapons in his room?"

"Fran, calm down. He's just a guy, not some mystical hunter with a vengeance," Jessa scolds. It should have settled me, but my heartbeat still flickers. "Ms. Grier says it's Akara's duty to take him his breakfast. It's waiting in the kitchen."

Both of their gazes fall upon me. My throat is suddenly bone dry, but does not demand hydration. Instead, it yearns from refuge, away from here, away from the job I'm required to undertake. Yes, I'm curious, but that is as far as that thought strays. I don't need to meet him to have my curiosity waned. It can continue to stray as untamed as possible.

"Oh. So I don't need to be scared?" I find myself saying. There is no escape now, just the reassurance that I can enter his room, do my job, and that will be that.

I don't need to communicate with him...

"Of course not. Unless you're victim to shaky hands in the presence of very attractive men. Then you might be in trouble," Jessa tells me, accompanied by a wink. She seems unbothered now, the shudder in her limbs gone. I'm jealous of that.

"I'm not...I mean, I'll be fine."

Jessa grabs my arms, smiling at me. "Akara. He does look different. But not all Summoners are bad."

I smile back, but I don’t know how much I believe her.