Tim sprawled his legs out, leaning on the stairs with a bored whistle. He could occasionally hear a toppling object or quickened step upstairs, but nothing was as loud as the floorboards creaking in front of him as the masked girl paced back and forth down the hall. Much like Sajus, she didn’t talk. Even before the curse took Bervolt, his brother hadn’t been much into conversation, and left him to make up for the both of them.

  Unlike Sajus, this girl was adorned in leather armour, and definitely looked capable of a scrap if fate forced her hand.

  He watched her make a few more laps, rolling to his feet and cutting off her journey. He stuck his hand out, grabbing the girl’s and shaking it when she didn’t move at the gesture.

  “Name’s Timber, Tim fer short. What’s yours?”

  She looked around in confusion, finally settling on toying with her sleeve until she could loosen the leather ties on it to scrunch up the fabric. She held out her bare wrist, showing the faint reddish scarring that drew out the Heroguard’s sigil and a clean set of numbers.

  0285.

  Tim eyed the digits, the girl still saying nothing as she covered her arm back up. He didn’t want to be rude off the bat, but a string of numbers was hardly a name.

  He nodded, more to himself at his decision. “Gonna call ya Squirrel.”

  Squirrel nodded in understanding.

  “I’m gonna go check on the adults upstairs, wanna come?”

  Squirrel fiddled with her fingers, glancing at Sajus as the boy mindlessly stood next to the stairs. Timber clued in on their exact thoughts, holding up his hand for them to provide him with the time to work out a solution. He wandered over to a small bench by the back door, grabbing a decorative pillow with gold lining from the furniture to wave at the girl.

  Not quite understanding his logic, she tilted her head. He dropped the pillow next to his brother, patting down his pockets until he found a sharp chip of stone. And then, he started the feathery dissection, cutting the decorative lining off the pillow until he held a little golden rope. He grabbed Sajus’ arms without any protest, pulling them through two wooden pillars on the railing and tying them tight with the length of fabric. Sajus kept an empty gaze as his brother tied him up, his wrists now bound tight to the stairs, leaving Tim grinning from ear to ear. He instructed the bird to watch Sajus, and to his delight, the noisy familiar complied.

  “Follow me, we’ll keep to pairs,” Timber announced, jutting his thumb at his tied-up brother when Squirrel tilted their head even further. He bounced the sharp stone in his other hand, his voice thrumming with confidence at his plan. “Got him good, he ain’t going nowhere. You just stay behind me and I’ll stab whatever comes near us.”

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  He sucked in a deep breath, swiveling on his heel to face the stairs. Instead of joining his side, Squirrel stayed back, the crunching snaps playing a familiar tune to the noises he had heard when she first turned from a bird into a person. He tried to keep the shivers from crawling up his spine, paying the small brown bird an energetic thumbs up when it nestled into his hair for the journey.

  Pointy rock at the ready, he crept up the stairs, ears alert for any nearby foes. The toppling impacts grew louder when he reached the last step, and he could now faintly hear metal clashing against itself. But it was not coming from the hall he now faced, whatever battle was occurring was still restrained to the attic. A part of him truly wished the battle was on this floor, because the first thing he noticed in the silent hall was a toppled table that had once trapped Cindy’s zombified husk of a body in the study room. The door had been ripped through, and no sounds came from the upturned office beyond.

  A part of Tim wanted to run and check on his father. But his common sense easily wrestled down those instincts. He was small, and regrettably needed quite a few years on him to take on an undead. But his size held one advantage.

  He quietly slid his shoes off to avoid unnecessary noise, and without looking at a single open door he bolted for the ladder to the attic. Not a shriek met him as he reached his destination, hope flowering in his chest as he grabbed on to start his ascent. Until a voice called for him.

  “Tim!”

  “Dammit Sajus.” He growled, confusion whiling around his mind as he replayed the knot he’d used on his brother. There was no way he had weaseled his way out of a triple tie. He was practically drooling while Tim tightened it.

  And now, of all the gods-forsaken times, he chose this very moment to yell his name?

  Tim stifled a growl, but before he turned his head, Squirrel let out a loud chitter, craning over his forehead to peck his eyebrow. He cried out in protest, receiving another pinching peck when he tried turning his head again.

  “My brother’s gonna get eaten.” He hissed, praying his voice was quiet enough not to attract anything unwanted. The fight just beyond the latter was doing wonders to muffle noises for him, but he didn’t want to test his luck.

  Squirrel hopped off his head to perch on the ladder, pecking his hand.

  His cry of pain was more controlled as he rubbed the spot, wondering why he hadn’t heard Sajus approach while Squirrel held his attention.

  Until a new voice came. A dead one.

  Not Cindy. It was something even more terrifying to the young boy.

  “Timberrrrr.”

  His body froze at his mother’s voice, the soft tones trailing to a song that begged for his attention. He had heard his mother sing before, she captivated crowds like a siren, and made every note his father strummed into honey for the ears.

  But she did not sing like that.

  “Won’t you turn around, Timber?”

  Timber understood why Squirrel was keeping his attention now. What stood behind him wasn’t his mother, and Sajus was most certainly tied up at the stairs. He squeezed his eyes shut and scrambled up the ladder.