My shoes crunched across something that could have been small bones or broken glass. I faltered down the hall with my hands out and steps unsteady. I followed the witch through the dark hall by the sound of her rustling skirts alone. I tried not to breathe too deeply as the scent of dust and stale air was thicker here and weighed me down like an anchor dragging toward a dank unknown seabed.

“Won’t you hurry?” The witch snapped. She was a few paces ahead and apparently completely ready to form the contract.

There was another broken window at the end of the hall that illuminated two purple doors. The deep purple did not fit the rest of the decaying house with gold inlets and a strange shimmer around them. The witch swept into the pool of light ahead and I averted my eyes down to the floor as she turned back to me.

It wasn’t that she was as hideous as the stories said. It was much more that it hurt to look at the dangerous angles of her wrinkled face, the bags under her eyes that seemed to absorb the light, and the way her eyes were luminous and unnaturally bright. Grey pieces of the moon fixed among the milky white of her eyes.

It was her teeth of course that did it. Those teeth that made me shudder and hesitate to go forward. They were downward daggers that reminded me of sharks and lions and any animal worth their spit at the top of the food chain.

The witch pressed on a button by the side of the purple doors as I reached her. She didn’t bother to look at me again.

“When is this wedding of your sisters?” She asked blithely.

I tensed my shoulders and my instincts were screeching for me to run. It wasn’t too late to run. “Spring Equinox.” I mumbled. I could hear the weakness in my own voice and I think that was the worst part. “She’s into that sort of thing.”

The blooming of our love on the day of new life. My sister Leah would sigh and then giggle. She was prone to sighing and giggling and filling any room she entered with light.

The witch snorted. “Of course.” She nodded to herself. “That will give us some time.”

Before I could ask what she meant by that or better yet, come to my senses and bolt into the night, the doors opened with a soft release. I realized the purple doors led into an elevator. It was bizarre to see them cleanly slide open as if the rest of the house wasn’t collapsing in on itself around us.

The witch grabbed my wrist. It was chilled and strangely soft, she hauled us both into the small space and made a sharp noise in the back of my throat. I had been trying not to get too close to her, but I could smell the distinct scent of stale blood on the woman. I closed my mouth but the taste of old pennies lodged into the roof of my mouth.

We crammed into a small box with purple walls and a gold floor. The little black fox darted in after us and took his place off to the side. There were no buttons in the box, but a single pointed spindle coming off the wall.

“Um?” I tried to form better thoughts, but none came to me.

The witch reached forward and pricked her thumb nonplussed on the spindle. She spoke clearly and somberly. “Down.”

A thick glob of her blood threaded down the needle and the doors of the elevator closed. I stiffened like an electric shock went up my ankles. I looked up at the ceiling and summoned something like a prayer.

Let me leave this place tonight. I thought. Let my bones not be used for this witch’s fence.

The witch tutted. “Tell me,” a grey sliver of her eye flitted in my direction and I stood up even taller than the Statue of Liberty it felt like. “What do you fancy yourself, girl?”

“What?” I turned slightly as the elevator glided downward.

“Do you fancy yourself a maiden, a harlot, or a hanged man?” She stated the question very coolly and assuredly despite it making no sense at all. “I was never very good at fortune telling myself.”

“Oh?” I raised an eyebrow. “Then perhaps you’ll have to keep practicing.” I wanted to turn away from her and never view her sharpened shark teeth or silvery eyes again.

She smiled despite it all. “Perhaps I will.” She turned as the elevator slid to a halt and the doors the started to open. “Though you remind me of the hare I once saw, a harbinger of sorts . . .”

I wanted to roll my eyes, but my nerves weren’t quiet there. Instead, I let her grab my wrist again with that soft, cold touch and drag me into the dark. The next hall was completely soundless, scentless, and empty of light. The elevator doors closed and left us in this non-space.

It took a dizzying second to orient myself as the witch snapped her fingers and a sudden purple light sprung to life in her palm. She held the flame there and turned toward two huge double-doors with the symbols of two suns across the front.

The witch frowned, “Stand back.” She muttered and I didn’t need to be told twice.

She left the purple light to hang in midair and clapped her hands together twice before blowing some foul smelling powder from a pouch. The door sprung open with a gasp and three enormous moths flew out with their bodies the color of tawny woods and white eyes in the center of each wing.

I watched them flap away into the depths of the darkness before I was being rushed into another underground room. It was happening faster than I would like.

The next room made me glad I wore a light sweater as a frigid cold seeped into my bones. It was a small box-like room with a cot in the corner, no windows, and two enormous bookcases lining the walls. A single wooden table sat in the center of the room with parchment laid out as if it was waiting for us.

“Fall to spring,” The witch laughed. “That sounds about right.”

I grit my teeth. “Wait,” I finally got up the courage to spit out. “We need to lay down the ground rules. The boundaries of it.”

The moon-dark eyes of the witch flashed up. “You shall clean my house.” She said as if to command me already. “And stay on the premises from the fall equinox to the spring.” Her smile grew into a snarl, “A winter bride of my own.”

I inhaled with a sudden twisting sensation in my gut. I didn’t like this. “And you promise to never go after my sister? Never curse her? Even after her wedding is over.”

“Yes, yes, I’ll write it out here.”

I ventured closer to peer over her shapeless cloaked shoulder and watch her write out the words.

The witch Yona will not touch the woman Leah Choi with any magic or hand after Natalie Choi has served time within the witch’s household.

I read quickly. “You know my name?”

“I said I was not very good at divining things.” She said easily, “Not that I was completely useless.”

I didn’t like that any more than the cold working its way down my spine. “And while I live here,” I widened my stance. “You’ll respect my rights, my rights as a mortal I mean.”

“Your what?” She said with something like a laugh.

“You heard me.” I hunkered down for a fight. “No turning me into a squirrel for fun or using my blood for pies or making me talk backward as a joke or anything else.”

The witch shook her head with a click of her tongue. “Does everything you know about witches come from the TV?”

“I don’t want to be anyone’s play thing.” I growled.

“Hmm,” She hummed deeply and turned away from the page. “You’ll be perfectly safe.” She grinned and it could have made a cat’s fur fluff. “Just because the hare dines with the fox doesn’t mean she’s always the one for dinner.”

“What do you mean?” Natalie stood back.

“I mean.” She lowered her chin, “Witches might be predators and humans might be prey,” she was almost singing, “But as long as you’re under my care then even the hare may feel like the Empress of the deck.”

“I don’t need that.” I said slowly. “All I need is for you not to mess with me or my sister after this is through.”

“Oh, yes, fine, fine.” The witch wrote the contract out with precise neat lettering. “So it will come to pass,” she said slowly. “For one winter you shall serve the House of Many Harmonies.”

I nodded and watched the witch write out her name: Yona the Black Fox. New Guardian of the House.

Her finger was still bloody from the elevator and she marked it with a thin strike of color by her name.

“Your turn.”

I took the pen and wrote out my name with bold strokes that at least weren’t shaking. I looked at the old crone slowly as I read the words. “Whose house was this before?”

“Oh,” She said softly with some reverence. “A grand illusionist.” She added. “Now mark the page.”

“What happened to her?”

I reached up and bit my thumb with my canine. I winced as I broke through the skin and tasted coppery warmth. It dribbled across the page in large oblong splashes.

“Can’t you tell?” Yona said softly. “She was killed here and her house left in ruins.”

I froze in place. “Killed . . . ?”

She shifted from foot to foot and she looked toward something I couldn’t see. “She was a fool.” She spoke bitterly. “But you’ll be safe.”

“Promise?” I had a feeling it was already too late for me to back out of this.

“Witch’s word.” She laughed and stepped toward me with her hand out.

I tried not to dwell on the fate of the previous owner as the blood started to dry on the contract. And we shook.