Jana didn’t make a sound. She had learned this as a child—when you’re afraid, don’t show fear. Animals can sense it.
But these dogs weren’t normal animals. She knew it. So did White, whose entire body trembled beneath her like a taut string.
The largest of the dogs—dark gray, with eyes almost golden—opened his mouth.
He didn’t bark. He didn’t growl.
He made a sound Jana couldn’t describe. Something between a whisper and a song. Something that resonated in her chest, in her bones, deep behind her thoughts.
And Jana suddenly remembered.
She remembered a dream she had had three times in the past month. A forest. A horse. Three dogs. And a voice that always said the same thing:
“The time has come to return what doesn’t belong to you.”
Her hand automatically moved to the pendant around her neck—an old, gold one, inherited from her grandmother, whose origins she had never known.
The pendant was hot. Almost unbearably hot.
The dogs took a second step.
Jana had to make a decision: run and risk White tripping on the narrow path—or stay and find out what these three silent creatures really wanted.
She reached for the pendant.
She took it off.
The largest dog stopped. He lowered his head. And slowly—very slowly—he began to wag his tail.
Jana dismounted.
She took a step forward.
And at that very moment she noticed what the dogs were—hidden in the shade of an old oak tree, overgrown with moss and time.
A door.
In the middle of the forest, no wall, no house—just an old wooden door, standing loosely among the trees.
And a fourth red string hung from the handle.