Cora tumbled through the spiraling darkness with her two screaming aunts. The resounding echoes of Cerberus' cries grew fainter and fainter as they catapulted away from him. Silvery lights and shadows flashed by in a breathtaking blur. Moments later, all three females landed upon a damp, dirt floor in a tangled heap of arms, legs, and sore buttocks.

Cora felt sorry for leaving her crimson-eyed companion behind. The troublesome hound was indeed growing on her as much as he continued to grate upon her sensibilities. Yet, she saw no other way around it. Cerberus was simply too fixated on devouring her aunts, and she needed a chance to speak with them without any interruptions.

Her eyes darted every which way as she sat up to examine this strange new place. Four heavy stone walls enclosed them in a windowless, square-shaped chamber. The walking distance from one side of the room to the other couldn't have taken more than ten or fifteen paces, and an overwhelming stench of urine and feces permeated the air. Eerily enough, there was nothing inside the enclosed area except a sad-looking pile of straw bedding in the corner and a solid wooden door that seemed to lock from the outside.

A precarious discomfort fluttered through Cora. Had they fallen into a prison cell of sorts? The room appeared frighteningly medieval. Were these quarters actually meant to house people? The deplorable conditions seemed abysmally lacking in all the basic necessities—unsuitable for animals, let alone humans. Without even a chamber pot to use as a toilet or a trough of clean water to drink from, it was downright disgusting and inhumane.

Cora glanced at her aunts. They were being uncharacteristically quiet. Aunt Mathilde, in particular, looked physically unwell. The coloring across her sunken, withered face appeared deadened and remarkably ashen. Her blue eyes were glazed over with an unspeakable emotion.

"Are you alright, Aunt Mathilde?" Cora asked urgently.

Aunt Amelia answered for her in somber tones, "This room holds terrible memories for her, Cora dear. I wish you had not brought us here."

Cora's features furrowed with remorse. "Oh dear. It was not my intention to upset Aunt Mathilde. I will try to get us out of here as soon as possible!"

"It is alright, Cora. Leave her to her demons for now. Your aunt will emerge from her nightmare, eventually. She always does."

"What is this place to her, exactly, Aunt Amelia?"

"She was imprisoned in this cell a very long time ago," Aunt Amelia explained, "by her own village. She was only fourteen years old."

Cora gasped. "Why would they do such a thing to a mere girl?"

"The local priest proclaimed her to be a heretic, a practitioner of witchcraft. He had her tortured here to cleanse the wickedness from her soul. The villagers believed they were being merciful by letting her atone for her sins instead of burning her at the stake."

"How long did they keep her here?"

"For most of her adolescence. Nearly ten years. I was the one who found her and saved her."

Cora's eyes glimmered with anguish. "Those men were monsters!"

Aunt Amelia smiled tritely. "Do you understand now, child, why your aunt and I were driven to such extremes? We never meant to deceive you, Cora, but we weavers have been persecuted in this way for centuries. Survival is everything to us. And, under the present circumstances, you have become key to our very existence. If it will rally you to our cause, then I am willing to bare my soul to you."

Cora grimaced as doubt clouded her mind. Would her aunt tell the truth this time? Cora did not know whether or not Aunt Mathilde or Aunt Amelia could be trusted, but still she wished to hear what they had to say.

"Very well, Aunt Amelia. I am willing to consider coming to your aid if you are willing to address each and every one of my inquiries with sincerity and honesty," Cora murmured. "Tell me now. How did I come to be your niece when Cerberus claims that I am neither human nor witch but an entity known as a gatekeeper? And how do Theodore and Lianna Butters fit into the picture? I have memories of them as my parents, but, I admit, the longer I remain in this realm, the foggier those recollections seem to become... It fills my conscience with misgivings. I do not know what is real anymore."

Aunt Amelia exhaled a long and slow breath. "Oh, Cora, why didn't listen to us and stay away from that pesky mutt? Our plans would've proceeded without a hitch if he didn't get involved, and you would've been perfectly happy under our guidance."

Cora frowned. "I do not know if I fully agree with your assessment, Aunt Amelia, but, please, continue."

Aunt Amelia sighed again. She appeared older and more tired than she had ever been. "I suppose I ought to start from the very beginning, then..."