Chapter 40: Volume 2 - CH 2.2

Mildred returned from checking the rooms. Footsteps so loud that it was hard to believe they belonged to a woman came clomping down the stairs. Kazuya remembered the time he met the nun at the flea market. Her crude mannerisms left quite the impression on him.

After getting off the train and arriving at Horovitz, it didn’t seem like the inn would allow Kazuya and Victorique to check in alone, so they came here with Mildred. Perhaps the nun’s attire proved effective; they were able to check in without being asked any questions.

The innkeeper continued his story as he carried their luggage up the stairs to the second floor. “The village is inhabited by werewolves. They may look gentle, but you must not offend them. They possess extraordinary looks, and are very intelligent, but otherwise, they’re an enigma. You must take care not to incur even their slightest wrath.”

“You say werewolf… do you mean normal people live in the village?” Kazuya asked.

“They look normal, yeah.”

They reached the second floor. The dim hallway’s parquet flooring squeaked with their every step. The white plaster on the walls was turning a darkish brown color, peeling in places. The faint light from the wall-mounted lamps quivered when the floor shook.

The innkeeper showed them to their respective rooms.

Outside the windows with their old beaded curtains, the night-shrouded mountains seemed to loom over them.

The innkeeper raised his voice. “They look human, but they’re not.”

“…You’re kidding.”

“Think about it. Their hair, their skin, living in secret deep in the mountains.” His shoulders trembled in horror. “Wavy golden hair, white skin. Rosy cheeks and petite frames. They all look exactly the same. The people of Sauville have various body types and hair colors. Brunette, brown, red. But not them. L-Like…” His eyes darted to his little guest, Victorique, and his face scrunched up. “Yes… The silent Gray Wolves look just like her.”

After checking his room, Kazuya peeked into the next room and saw Victorique resting.

“Is there anything I can help you with?” Kazuya asked.

When Victorique heard his voice, she spun around, turning her back to him. She was silent.

“What’s wrong, Victorique?”

“…”

“Tsk.” Baffled, Kazuya closed the door.

What in the world is going on with her? he wondered as he walked down the hallway. She doesn’t say a word, she left the academy without explaining anything, and came all the way here. If the teachers found out, there would be a lot of trouble. There’s Inspector Blois, too… Victorique’s family won’t keep quiet about it.

He recalled the time when Victorique was given special permission to go outside the academy. Every experience seemed new to her—riding a train, disembarking at a station, walking down the streets of the big city. There was a reason she could not leave the academy that Kazuya could not fully understand. He remembered the looks of genuine relief on the faces of Inspector Blois’ men when they found that she was safe after the ship sank.

What would happen if they found out that Victorique had left the academy without permission, boarded a train, and traveled all the way here?

Why would you come here? What’s in that classified ad?

But there was no point in worrying about it now. She would not listen to him. He would have to stick with her until she returned safely to the academy. She might be smart, but she had rarely gone out. Who knows what would happen if he left her to her own devices?

Kazuya quietly descended the stairs. The innkeeper was reading a magazine while sipping on some cheap drink.

“Excuse me,” Kazuya called.

The moment he brought up the classified ad, the innkeeper said in an exasperated tone, “Oh, so you’re also here for that.”

“Well, uhh… Wait, also? There are others?”

“Yeah. See the German car parked out front?”

Kazuya nodded, remembering the luxury automobile parked in front of the inn.

“Three young men were on it. They asked me the same thing. The classified ad piqued their interest, so they traveled all the way here. They seemed to be in it for the fun, so I gave them a warning. Do not go to the Village of the Gray Wolves out of mere curiosity.”

“I see…”

“They just laughed at me the whole time, saying it’s all just superstition.” His voice dropped low, as if talking to himself. “They have no idea the trouble they’re getting into.” The gas lamp dimmed for a moment, and his lined face darkened. “There will surely be blood. The silent Gray Wolves will not let their curiosity go unpunished.”

The lamp flickered back to life.

“They’re staying on the third floor,” the innkeeper said, his voice bright. “If you’re headed to the same place, you can try talking to them in the morning. They’re idiots, but they’re nice people.”

“Okay…”

“They were excited about driving up the mountain, but the incline’s too steep for cars. You should talk to them about chartering a carriage together.”

“Got it. Can you tell me the name of the village?”

“It doesn’t have one.” The innkeeper’s face contorted, and in a hushed tone, he added, “It’s been that way for the past four hundred years. They don’t give their village a name. No one knows why. It’s what makes it terrifying. We live in constant fear of them.” His voice sounded like a dead man’s.

A chill crawled down Kazuya’s spine. He thanked the innkeeper.

Before he walked away, he remembered something. “That reminds me, where is Mildred’s house? Why is she staying here with us?”

The innkeeper looked up. “You said something?”

“The nun with us said she grew up in this town.”

“…That can’t be right.”

“But…”

“It’s a small town. Everyone remembers the kids who left. Especially if they joined the Church. We’re religious folks around here, you see.”

“…”

“You probably heard wrong. We don’t know her.”

Kazuya bid the innkeeper goodnight and headed back to his room.

As he walked down the first-floor hallway toward the stairs, he saw Mildred coming down the stairs, and stopped. Their eyes met. She gave a start.

The muted lamplight shone faintly on Mildred’s freckled skin and melancholic, bluish-gray eyes.

“What are you wandering around for?” she asked.

“N-Nothing…”

“Go to bed,” she said in a somewhat hard tone, and walked past him.

Kazuya looked over his shoulder.

“Can I borrow your phone?” the nun asked the innkeeper.

“Of course.”

He couldn’t tell who she was calling. He tried straining his ears, but decided that eavesdropping was in bad taste. He turned on his heel and climbed up the stairs.

Kazuya ambled along the second-floor corridor. The parquet flooring creaked with each step he took. The corridor, flanked by white plaster walls, was wide enough for a single person, yet narrow for its high ceiling. It felt suffocating.

His pace quickened.

Each time the floor squeaked, the old glass lamps, installed at equal intervals on either side, flickered. Flickers gradually turned to ripples. Kazuya drew a deep breath and exhaled.

The narrow, high-ceilinged corridor seemed to rock like a ship on sea. He tried to erase the ominous image from his mind.

If this is a ship…

Yet he couldn’t stop thinking about it.

If this is a ship, then huge waves must be rocking it. A sign of a coming storm.

He hurried back to his room. As he turned the corner, his steps now faster than ever, he noticed a large window at the end of the corridor, and stopped.

Outside, steep mountains sliced through the dark night sky with the sharpness of a saw’s teeth. The moon shone softly above.

Kazuya approached the window and opened it. A chilly late-night breeze stirred his hair, bringing in the unpleasant smell of wild animal from somewhere.

A howl rose in the distance.

This smell must be coming from that dead bird on the front door, he thought to himself. Yes, that’s gotta be it. Nothing more.

Clang!

A sound came from behind. He jumped, and looked over his shoulder. Moonlight streaming in through the window gleamed softly on his face.

“Oh, it’s just you.”

Victorique had opened her door and was out in the corridor. She was dressed in a white muslin nightgown. Baggy trousers like women’s work pants peeked out from under her ruffled nightwear, tied at the bottom with oceanic-blue laces. Half of her hair was tucked under a glossy, satin nightcap.