Project K

Chapter 1

PART 1

Cursed, just my luck.

The inn that housed Kyle was near the outskirts of Aube. It did not stand out among the other buildings that lay further ahead, but it had an aura to it that was rather homely. The heavy wooden double doors opened to a large entrance hall, with a laminate floor, laden with tables.

The receptionist's desk greeted guests directly at the entrance. To the left of the desk, a shadowed alcove played host to the wooden staircase that led to the rooms. Beside the alcove was a door leading to the corridor that annexed Philip's own house to the inn. Kyle had lived with him in his house when he was younger, but he now lived in Room 12 of the inn, helping out, and paying rent. Philip always argued that it was unnecessary, but Kyle knew that he would not be able to live with himself any other way. Besides, Kyle had loved the inn even when he was a child, with its hustle and bustle, and tales of strangers travelling to distant shores. He knew it intimately. Even now, as he descended the steps from his room on the third floor, he made sure to skip the third step after the second landing, because it always pivoted under the weight. He'd snickered at many a traveler who had fallen victim to it.

Kyle took a deep breath as he exited the inn, taking in sharp, cold air. For a second he was snow-blind, then his eyes adjusted to the white. It was the time of the year when creatures went into hibernation, sleeping through both the long days and longer nights. But Aube was nearly always like this. It lay on the northern-most edge of the continent, and was littered with buildings that always looked like frosted cakes with their warm yellow windows and red-orange bricks. It was morning, so the path Kyle always took near the lake was vacant of people. He peered at the water as he crossed. Kyle came here often, and he liked the lake. It was said to sprout from an underground source, but he had never really been able to gauge how far down it went. It was frozen solid, this time of the year. It looked like it was all right to walk on.

Kyle stopped, considering. He walked closer to the lake and gingerly tapped the ice with a foot. It felt hard and sturdy enough to take his weight. Taking care not to slip and lose his balance, Kyle stepped on the ice. He waited for a while, for any sort of give in the ice, but none came. So he decided to walk forward.

He had made it halfway across the ice when he heard the faintest of cracks. His heart froze in terror before his feet did. Shaking off the dread, he contemplated an escape route. He turned slightly to look around him, decided to sprint. Before he could even take the next step, although, the ice below his left foot cracked sharply. Losing footing, he fell, and tried to slide away from the fissure, but in vain. The solid ground beneath him disappeared entirely, and his mind snap shut as soon as the freezing water covered his face, invading his mouth. Before everything faded, Kyle felt something - a stranger's hand - grab hold of his own, its touch so hot, it scalded him, as if he had touched burning metal. And then everything was black.

When Kyle came to, he was completely dry and lying on the far bank of the lake. Sitting up, he tried to recall what had happened but the memory was very faint, worryingly so. He realized that he had not been out cold for long, there was still light. Then it came back to him, slowly and in pieces - he remembered the hand that had grabbed his own, and the burning sensation that had followed. He raised that hand to examine it, and his eyes widened. There was a peculiar marking on his palm, white and taut against the skin. But there was no pain, nothing to show that it was there, except for its very visual presence.

In the course of the next few days, Kyle realized that the markings were getting darker - much like a brand, only there was no scab to prove that it was an actual burn. Truly worrying now, he felt that he had put it off long enough, and it was time to talk to Uncle Philip about it. That thought put more butterflies in his stomach, because he recalled Philip categorically forbidding him from walking on the icy lake.