Sebastian

place.
    "There's the entrance," he said, raising his voice to make sure the demon heard him.
    A growl was the only response.
    It hadn't been difficult to convince the demon to bring them to the school. All he'd said was that Lynnea might have to walk a long way.
    Maybe they should have walked. They'd had to cross through two other landscapes before they found a bridge that would cross over to the Landscapers' piece of Ephemera. If they'd walked through those other landscapes, would they have found a place that would have called to both of them? A new place, a new start. With Lynnea.
    But the Den needed him, and every day he was gone could make the Den susceptible to another will. An evil will.
    They turned off the main road and went through the entrance to the school. The demon cycle slowed down as they passed empty pastureland.

    "Where are the animals?" Lynnea said, looking around.
    "Maybe they put them up for the night," Sebastian replied. But something didn't feel right. The silence was too heavy, too… expectant.
    They were halfway between the buildings and the school's entrance when the demon cycle stopped abruptly and began gliding backward.
    Sebastian dropped his feet to the ground, dragging his heels. "No. Stop."
    The demon growled and kept gliding back toward the main road.
    "Stop!" He tapped Lynnea's hand to tell her to dismount once the demon came to a shuddering halt.
    "Daylight! What's wrong with you?"
    "Sebastian?" Lynnea hugged herself. "Where are the people?"
    "Probably inside the buildings. It's almost dark." But something was making his skin crawl. Probably just the typical response when someone like him entered this place. After all, Landscapers didn't think of demons as people. Aunt Nadia and Glorianna were the exceptions in thinking demons were entitled to their own little pieces of the world.
    "Here," he said, "give me that." He took the pack Lynnea had on her back. Glorianna had done a little more shopping on her way to the cottage. The trousers, shirt, and lightweight jacket Lynnea wore were good traveling clothes. Her other clothes were in his pack.
    Had she kept the catsuit?
    He slipped one strap over his shoulder, then took Lynnea's hand and linked his fingers with hers. Giving the demon cycle a hard stare, he said, "Wait for me."
    Did the school always feel like it was stretching and moving even when a person stood still?
    "I don't like this place," Lynnea whispered.
    Neither did he, and if he still felt uneasy after talking to the Landscapers, he'd make some excuse, get them both out of there, and take Lynnea to Aunt Nadia's house.
    Which is what I should have done in the first place.
    "Come on," he said, leading her toward the buildings. "Let's find someone who can take us to whoever is in charge."
    The closest building was two stories and square. Probably the classrooms. Not a promising place to find anyone at this time of day, but it was better than wandering around.
    He thought he saw movement above the first-floor windows, then decided it was nothing more than a bird or small critter moving in the branches of a tree that almost brushed against the building. But his nerves were humming, and the desire to get on the demon cycle and get away from this place was growing stronger.
    The building's double doors were partially open, which didn't seem right. Would they be that careless about closing up after lessons were over for the day? Maybe it meant someone was in the building—a student running in for a forgotten book and not checking that the door was closed because she'd be coming back out in a minute.

    A shiver went down his spine as he pushed one door all the way open.
    Lynnea grabbed her jacket and pulled the material over her nose and mouth as soon as they stepped into the building. "Oh. It smells bad in here."
    It did smell bad. Which was why he had to look. If someone was alone and injured in here, he had to do what he could to help—or go and find help if there was nothing else he could do.
    He almost told Lynnea to stay by the door. After all, the first classroom wasn't more than ten paces from the doorway. But even ten paces felt too far.
    Giving her hand a squeeze, he walked to the first classroom door, letting her trail a step behind him, their linked hands providing a tether. The door was ajar, but it resisted opening further when he gave it a light push, so he put his shoulder to the wood and shoved.
    And wished with everything in him that he'd left the door