Claire tried to clear her mind. What would Miriam want from her here? Probably something about peace and acceptance. That didn’t feel quite right to her. On a whim, she decided to lean on pride instead. Her family would be here. Older Delta Sigma sisters would be here. She would show just how well she fit in, just how well she belonged. If that, paradoxically, meant acting like she didn’t have personal pride—then she’d be the best least-prideful servant she could be.

Regardless of Luna’s concerns.

By now the older sisters were all seated and the parents were beginning to filter in.

They’d see her, and they’d see that she’d done it. Her mom was wrong. She could belong here.

She kept watching the entrance between trips to the tea station, waiting for a sign, waiting for her family to show up.

By 5:30 the number of new arrivals slowed to a trickle. Still no sign of her parents. She wanted to check her phone, but they’d all been left in their backpacks, safely stored in the kitchen.

She walked back inside to grab more tea and considered it. Riga was there as well, fiddling with a package that she’d kept in her own backpack. It looked about the size of a book. Her own backpack was next to it but… It was probably better just not to think about it. Her family would come or they wouldn’t.

Something tickled her brain as she walked out, but— no, she wasn’t going to let herself get distracted.

She served another table pastries. It wasn’t quite getting dark yet, but the fairy lights strung out across the yard had already been turned on. All around her members of her sorority chatted, some with their friends, some with their parents, and some with the parents of her pledge class.

Everyone except hers. She stood on the back staircase, watching, suddenly feeling so incredibly disconnected from everything. She didn’t belong with those happy people. They had parents who showed up. They had friends. She was just the broken, stubborn asshole who fought everyone who tried to help her.

She stood there, watching, as Becca walked up the stairs and passed her. The fellow servant gave her a look—a raised eyebrow. Distantly Claire considered that that was actually unusually forward for the meekest girl in their pledge class. Everyone was growing except for her. She didn’t belong.

She tried to move but she couldn’t. Wherever her mind was right now, it was far away from her body. Far away from here, from the sorority, and from her parents who she knew somewhere deep inside were definitely not on their way. Maybe later she’d get an apologetic text message. Maybe it was already on her phone. Did it matter? It was her fault for having expectations. She should have known better.

A loud screeching noise began to fill her ear. She’d wanted to show her parents she could belong here, but it didn’t matter did it? The screeching got louder. Was she—? Was this a panic at—¿

Everything began to get hazy¡¿ It wasn’t just her¡ She watched in stunned silence as table by table sisters began covering their ears and collapsing into their tea§º The students went first—parents looked around confused, staring, before going into some kind of trance∵ They didn’t collapse, but did it matter¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿¿

She had to hold on, she had to stay conscioussssssss

It only took 30 seconds. The screeching noise stopped, and Claire suddenly found herself staring out at the yard, every sister fainted, and every parent staring straight ahead like they’d simply been switched off. She felt nauseous and ill and her thoughts had slowed to a haze.

But she was conscious. She tried shaking herself off and rebooting her brain a little. Then she turned around and went back into the kitchen. Luna was on the floor, fainted like the other sisters, one hand reaching toward where Riga’s backpack had been only two minutes ago. Becca was sprawled nearby, spilled tea and broken ceramic surrounding her body. A smashed stone tablet was spread across the kitchen floor. Riga and the backpack were both gone.

A spike of adrenaline kicked Claire out of the haze, though the faint nausea feeling remained. She flipped Luna onto her back and began rubbing her sternum with her knuckles. She’d only seen it in YouTube videos but—

Luna gasped and her eyes flew open. “Arghhh.” She immediately reached for Claire’s hand in a panic. Claire dodged the grasp but raised both hands away.

“Riga.” She rushed the words out. She pointed beyond Luna’s head. “Tablet? Everyone else is out, do we wake them? Miriam? Neha?” Actual panic began to claw at her mind.

Luna blinked twice, then jerked up, and grabbed Claire’s arm. “No no no time. I know what she’s doing remember? The dream says we need to chase.”

Claire just nodded. She grabbed Luna and pulled her to her feet.

“Which door?”

Luna looked at the two inner doors leading from the kitchen, both unopened. “This one.”

They rushed out into the hallway, Luna at the front.

“Are you—” Claire took a ragged breath, and remembered she’d started this year as a nerd. “—sure we shouldn’t—”

“No time!”

A door slammed further down the hall, at least it seemed like Riga wasn’t totally sure what she was looking for.

They chased the rogue minder towards the front of the house, past lounges and couches and something that looked like a stereotypical representation of a high school classroom. The walls were covered in murals and hanging pieces of art, but she was running too fast to really take them in.

They had to be nearing the front door by now.

Another loud noise.

“Basement,” Luna panted.

They turned right at a wall-sized mural of a giant one-eyed tentacle monster and found an open door with a staircase behind it. Luna seemed to know roughly where she was going as she took the steps two at a time, Claire right behind her.

The bottom of the basement staircase had… it almost looked like a lobby? Two couches and some potted plants. More of the weird stones that Delta Sig had all over the property.

There were only two doors out of the room, on adjacent walls. Claire was about to try them when Luna closed her eyes for a moment and chose the left. More weird dream shit.

They stumbled down the hallway and finally spotted Riga. She’d been trying different doors and had made it about 20 or 30 ft ahead of them. Her current door was the only one on the left side of the basement, and it looked like she was trying to convince it to open somehow—she was holding a necklace out from under her shirt, murmuring while rhythmically swaying.

Claire peeked into the others as they ran past. Most were storage closets. One or two looked like… ritual chambers? There were chalk diagrams and dried fluids on the concrete flooring, surrounded by tables and couches. Like someone took a demon cult, but made it cozy.

Haunted house or cult? Claire was running out of other explanations.

Something flashed and Riga managed to get the door open.

When they caught up to it they found that it was covered in the same strange inscriptions as the stones had been. Claire didn’t have time to inspect it—they pushed themselves against it. Whatever Riga had done to the door must have been permanent, since it opened for them immediately.

It was immediately clear why there hadn’t been other doors on the left side of the hallway. The room itself was huge, a cathedral-like cavernous space. It was taller than the rest of the basement too, something possible because a set of five steps led down from the door to the actual floor of the room. The decorative stones were everywhere in this room, and the walls were covered in just as many runes.

There were no other words for it. It was a giant ritual chamber.

For a moment Claire’s eyes got stuck on the entrance area: to the right of the staircase was a small collection of mattresses, pushed together and covered in pillows and blankets. Next to them was a mini fridge and a snack cabinet. The juxtaposition was jarring, especially since just behind the snack cabinet was a rack of whips and crops that would have made a medieval interrogator blush.

The whips at least were in line with the rest of the chamber. The endless walls were peppered with similar racks and cabinets, containing everything from books to manacles, wardrobes to racks of strange fluids. Once she was able to pull her eyes away from the walls she was drawn to the giant metal circle that dominated the space.

It was thick, almost a foot wide, sunk into the floor with a diameter that stretched the entire 60-foot width of the room.

Something about it drew Claire’s eye, but she didn’t have time. Riga was already over the circle, headed towards a large stone altar at the very center. Luna was about 15 feet behind, a few steps ahead of Claire. The whole scene felt dreamlike somehow, even as they scrambled through a very real basement underneath a very real sorority house.

She didn’t have time to ponder. Claire bounded down the stairs and gave chase. She could feel some kind of pressure on her body, wanting to force her limbs down. As she approached the circle it began to feel like walking through a dense mist, just that bit of extra pressure. When she stepped over the ring it became an intense headwind, like a ghostly wind trying to keep her from reaching the center.

A glance up told her Riga was facing the same challenge, stepping forward like she was fighting a blizzard. Luna, on the other hand, moved with a grace that even Miriam’s cane hadn’t been able to instill. She bounded over the stones, stepping as if on a trampoline, catching up to Riga in great bounds.

An intrusive thought hit Claire, telling her to give up. She was moving through honey, it reminded her. There was no way she would make it.

And the thought was right. It was exhausting. And Luna was so much faster. But she’d seen Luna in ballet—devoted as the servant was, she was no athlete. And Riga was. Claire needed to help her sister. Luna was a part of her family.

With that thought the honey became more like water again, her mind cleared, and she managed to forge on.

The slow pace gave Claire a chance to look around. The metal circle, now six feet behind her, gleamed a polished silver. It was inscribed with the same runic script as the doors and many of the stones had been. The stones inside the circle seemed polished as well. Even as she stepped over them she had to avoid little carved channels, like irrigation canals, running from the central altar out to the metal ring. The altar itself was just about the right size for a human sacrifice—she hoped that wasn’t what it was for—and was covered with runes on absolutely every surface. Looking at it was hard. It seemed to haze in and out and glow with an uncomfortable shimmery light.

The haze had slowed down Riga but hadn’t stopped her. She was within throwing distance of the altar now. But so was Luna. Claire wasn’t sure how her friend was going to approach this—she wasn’t going to win in a physical confrontation.

Riga didn’t look back. Instead she took out another stone tablet from her backpack, stretched towards the altar, and began chanting.

Luna lept and, in a moment of apparent gender conffirmation, attached herself to the back of Riga like an angry cat. She even hissed as she began clawing at Riga.

Riga, already pushing against the same ghost-wind Claire was fighiting, kept on marching. She held the tablet forward, keeping it out of Luna’s reach, and kept chanting.

Luna bit Riga’s neck, and Riga screamed as she twisted her torso. That motion cost the minder her footing and she began tilting backwards like a sail in too-large a gust.

The former rower made the best of the situation and tilted her body so she could slam Luna into the ground.

Claire could almost see the air forced out of Luna’s lungs as she made contact. She promptly lost her grip on Riga, who tried to tilt her body and crawl back toward the altar.

By now Claire was within a few yards of the pair, and she spent a moment trying to figure out her approach. Luna was writhing on the ground, recovering but not fast enough. Riga was trying to reach the altar, still focused on the tablet in her hands. It wasn’t clear exactly what the tablet did, but it was glowing a little bit and it was probably not good.

She’d go for the tablet. She took another step forward, preparing to jump. She’d go for the tablet, because whatever the tablet did would probably hurt her sisters and hurt Delta Sigma.

Suddenly the headwind was gone. Claire wasn’t prepared for the sudden lack of resistance and rocketed into Riga shoulder first, like the world’s clumsiest linebacker.

On the bright side, Riga hadn’t expected it either, and the athlete tipped over, momentarily fumbling the tablet. Claire threw a clumsy fist at Riga as they both went to the ground. Her opponent raised a hand to protect herself and lost control of the tablet. It hit the ground with a thud as Claire landed on Riga.

Claire shouted and threw another punch.

Unfortunately, Claire was a nerd and Riga was not. Claire’s  fist bounced uselessly off of Riga’s neck, Riga then grabbed Claire by both of her shoulders and heaved her to the side.

Claire hit the ground with a thud and Riga’s elbow landed on her torso. The air escaped her lungs. Everything hurt. She— she needed to keep going. Riga’s hand was reaching out for the tablet. Claire raised herself and reached out to try and grab Riga’s ear.

Riga twisted her face out of the way and gave Claire a final shove. Claire tried to resist it but she found herself falling back and tumbling across the ground. Her head hit the flagstone, and she saw stars.

Luna arrived a second too late. She threw herself at Riga but, without Claire to distract her, the larger girl easily shoulder-checked her.

At the end of the day Riga was an actual athlete, and a bit of Delta Sigma enforced gym time hadn’t put Luna or Claire at her level.

Luna slid down Riga’s side and scrambled to catch on. She managed to grab a calf.

If they could delay just a little bit longer—

It wasn’t going to be enough.

Even if the other sister’s had woken up they weren’t here yet.

Claire screamed and shoved herself forward. Everything was starting to get blurry. She defintely had a concussion. She was getting nauseous. But she needed to help Luna. She needed to help her sister.

She pushed off. Somehow the wind carried her forward this time. It wasn’t much, but it let her reach Riga’s other leg. The minder gave up walking, but she’d already come close enough. She reached forward with both arms, touched the stone tablet to the altar, and begun chanting.

Claire watched helplessly from between Riga’s legs as the tablet began to glow. It—it hadn’t been enough.

At that moment the door slammed open.

“FUCK” Samie raced in, baseball cap backwards and eyes filled with rage.

Where Luna had seemed like she was bouncing across a trampoline, Samie looked like she barely touched the floor at all. She flew at Riga with the determination of a pouncing tiger.

Then, 10 feet away, the yellow glow from the tablet touched her and it was like she hit a wall.

It—fuck.

Claire mustered her last reserve of strength and bit Riga’s calf.

A hitch in the chanting and the tablet flickered. It was only for a second, but with Samie here that was enough. The senior servant pounced and slammed an elbow straight into Riga’s head.

Riga went down like a sack of bricks. Before she even touched the ground Samie had snatched the tablet and sent it flying toward the walls of the basement. It flew out of the circle and landed by the wall with a dull thud.

Luna whimpered as she turned over. “Thank you, Samie.”

“Sorry little one,” Samie said, “it’s Kevin. Right now it’s Kevin.”

Luna opened her mouth in question, but before she could speak the door opened again and Isabelle raced in.

“Kevin, the sister’s upstairs sai—“

“Stop.” Sami—Kevin looked at Isabelle then pointed at Claire and Luna.

Isabelle froze, wide-eyed. She took the three of them in. Riga unconscious, Claire and Luna sprawled out, panting. “Fuck.”

“Fuck,” Kevin agreed, then pointed at the tablet by the wall.

“Fuuuuuck.” Isabelle turned around and waved another sister in from the hallway. She wore a suit and carried herself with a mien that made Claire feel like she should be getting up and straightening her clothes.

She took a look around. Isabelle pointed to the tablet while Kevin dragged Riga away from Luna and Claire. She took everything in, looking thoughtful.

“Well, fuck,” she murmured. Then she calmly stepped down the staircase and approached Claire and Luna.

Kevin nodded towards them while dragging away Riga. “They— well—“ A quick shrug. “Fuck.”

Isabelle took a deep breath and checked the time on her phone. She glanced back and forth between Claire and Luna, then she kicked a pillar.  “Fuck fuck fuck.”

The woman in a suit crouched down in front of Luna and Claire. She took Luna’s chin into her hand and stared into one eye then the other. Somehow she managed to make the gesture look composed and professional. Then she turned and did the same to Claire.

Claire wasn’t sure what the—she had to be a minder—what the minder was looking for, but she didn’t resist.

“Well…” she tilted her head. “Fuck.”

Isabell appeared behind her and nodded. “Fucking fuck.”

The woman shook her head but tilted her mouth into the slightest smile. “It’s fine.”

She pointed at Luna and Isabelle stepped over to her. The minder muttered a few words under her breath then picked her friend up like it was nothing. Meanwhile the suited woman reached out to Claire. Claire accepted the offered hand and felt an almost otherworldly strength from her. Immediately the pain racking her body softened, though the nausea didn’t abate. Her eyes hazed over for a moment, but then the woman pulled her up. For a second Claire felt the offer to be carried as well, but she turned it down. Instead, she leant on the woman and let herself be led toward the exit.

While Isabelle carried Luna in a princess carry, Kevin/Samie carried a still unconscious Riga in a firemen’s carry. They walked ahead and turned around one more time at the doorway. “Fuck.”

Isabelle nodded as she walked up the stairs. “Fucking fuuuck.”

They slowly made it up the stairs and out of the basement.

Kevin/Samie broke off when they reached the first floor, while Isabell and the suited women led Luna and Claire towards a side room. When they reached the door the suited woman tilted her head at Isabelle and Isabelle nodded in understanding. Claire let go of the shoulder and let herself be ushered into the room.

She could feel Isabelle centering herself next to her. She took a deep breath. “You did good today, Claire, though I doubt–I hope–you don’t know exactly why. I’m not permitted to explain, but I suspect–I hope–we’ll be able to tell you a few things soon.”

Isabelle dropped Luna onto one of the two couches situated around the back and right room. The decorations reminded her of a therapist’s office or maybe an interview room. Inoffensive, generic furniture and boring wall art. Soft lighting and even softer carpeting.

A sister Claire hadn’t met dropped into the room and put some water bottles and pastries from the tea party on a little side table.

Isabelle then guided Claire onto the couch at an angle to Luna’s. The only other seating in the room was an armchair across from them, and Claire half expected Isabelle to take it for herself. Instead, the senior servant walked back towards the door. She turned around when she’d almost reached it.

“For now,” she said, “know that we love you as a sister, and we always have your best interests at heart.”

Then she took one last glance at Luna, walked back out to the hallway, and closed the door. There was a click and Claire groaned.

They were locked in.