The black SUV bounced and lurched over the dirt road throwing up clouds of dust that hung in the afternoon air like smoke. Sasha pressed her face against the cool window glass, watching the landscape roll by in shades of brown and gold. At seventeen, she was too old to be fascinated by car rides but something about this place felt different or just... strange.
Her mother sat beside her, fingers drumming nervously on her dark skirt. Mom had always been pretty even now in her mid-thirties, but today she looked tired. The flowing black dress she wore seemed too formal for a road trip, more like something you'd wear to a funeral. Every few minutes, she'd glance over at Sasha with those searching eyes, as if she could read her daughter's thoughts just by looking hard enough.
"You okay, sweetheart?" Mom reached over and squeezed Sasha's shoulder. Her hand was warm but Sasha could feel it trembling slightly.
"I'm fine." Sasha didn't look away from the window. She wasn't fine actually. She didn't want to be here, wherever 'here' was. She wanted to be back home in the city, hanging out with her friends and complaining about homework and boys and all the normal stuff seventeen-year-olds were supposed to worry about. Not driving through the middle of nowhere to some house that belonged to family she'd never heard of.
The countryside stretched endlessly around them. Ranch houses dotted the landscape like scattered toys, each one sitting on acres and acres of empty land. They'd been driving for hours and had barely seen another car. The isolation made Sasha's skin crawl. How did people live out here without going crazy from the silence?
They passed through what Mom generously called a town, though it was really just a cluster of buildings around a main street. There was a small market with weathered wooden signs, a building marked "Town Hall" that looked like it hadn't been painted since the 1950s, and a few shops with dusty windows. The people they saw stopped what they were doing to stare at their SUV as it drove past. Actually stared, like they'd never seen a car before.
"Why are they looking at us like that?" Sasha rolled up her window, suddenly feeling exposed.
"Small towns," Mom said, but her voice was tight. "People here notice when strangers come through."
The way she said it made Sasha think there was more to it than that, but she didn't push. Mom had been acting weird about this whole trip from the beginning. She'd gotten a phone call three days ago, had a hushed conversation in the kitchen that Sasha couldn't quite hear, and then announced they were taking a "little vacation" to visit some property Mom had inherited. When Sasha asked about it, Mom's answers were vague and unsatisfying.
They drove for another ten minutes before turning onto a narrow dirt road that led toward a line of mountains in the distance. This ranch was different from the others they'd passed. For one thing, it was much farther from the main road, isolated even by countryside standards. And while the other properties were mostly brown grass and scrubland, this place was green. Really green. Flowers bloomed everywhere in wild profusion – roses and lilies and plants Sasha didn't recognize, all growing in impossible abundance.
"How is everything so green here?" she asked. "It's like a different climate zone."
Mom shifted in her seat. "Your grandmother always had a green thumb."
Grandmother. This was the first time Mom had mentioned whose property this was. Sasha had dozens of questions, but something about Mom's expression warned her to stay quiet.
The strangest part was that despite all the flourishing plant life, there was no sign of anyone taking care of it. No irrigation systems, no gardening tools, no tire tracks from maintenance vehicles. The flowers and trees just grew wild and perfect, as if they were taking care of themselves.
At the edge of the property, a dark forest pressed close to the ranch boundaries. The trees were massive and ancient-looking, their branches so thick they blocked out most of the sunlight. Even from the car, Sasha could feel something ominous about those woods. They looked like the kind of place where fairy tale characters got lost and eaten by wolves.
"Nobody goes in there," Mom said quietly, following Sasha's gaze. "The locals won't even hunt in those woods."
"Why not?"
"Old superstitions. People around here have long memories for scary stories."
But Mom's hands were gripping the steering wheel so tightly her knuckles had gone white, and Sasha got the feeling it wasn't just superstition that kept people away.
Finally, they reached the house itself, and Sasha's breath caught in her throat. She'd been expecting some run-down farmhouse or rustic cabin, but this was something else entirely. The building looked like it had been transplanted from a European estate – three stories of pale stone with tall windows and intricate architectural details. Ivy climbed the walls in perfect, manicured patterns. The whole place looked like it had been built yesterday, not a single stone out of place or a single tile missing from the roof.
In front of the house stood a fountain that made Sasha's eyes widen. Two dragons, carved from what looked like black marble, reared up from a circular pool. Their heads were capped with silver that glinted in the late afternoon sun, and water sprayed from their open mouths in perpetual streams. But it was their eyes that made Sasha take a step back. Red stones, which may have been rubies, glowed from within the carved features with an inner light that was almost alive.A paththway made of white marble stretched from the gate to the entrance, polished to the point that it looked like a mirror.
"This place is incredible," Sasha breathed. "You never told me we had family money."
"It's complicated," Mom said, but she was already getting out of the car to talk to their driver about the luggage.
Sasha stood next to the fountain, listening to the splash of water and trying to process what she was seeing. This wasn't just a house – it was an estate. The kind of place that should have groundskeepers and housekeepers and maybe a butler or two. So where was everyone?
That's when she noticed the light.
It was coming from a cluster of bushes near the side of the house, a faint glow that pulsed rhythmically like a heartbeat. Sasha knew she should wait for Mom, should ask questions, should be sensible and cautious like she'd been raised to be.
Instead, she found herself walking toward the light.
Her small travel bag bumped against her hip as she pushed through the perfectly manicured garden. The glow was definitely coming from behind a wall of flowering shrubs, something that definitely wasn't supposed to be there. As she got closer, she could hear something too – a soft sound that might have been breathing.
Sasha pushed aside the branches and stepped through.
A woman was crouched in the small clearing behind the bushes. Her clothes were torn and stained with what looked like blood, dark patches that spread across her white dress. Her hair hung in tangles around her face, and her hands were pressed against the ground as if she was trying to hold herself up.
When she looked up at Sasha, her face broke into a smile that didn't match the rest of her appearance at all.
"Sasha," she said, and her voice was barely a whisper. "I never thought I would meet the Quinter."
Sasha took a step back, her heart hammering in her chest. "How do you know my name?"
But the woman just kept smiling that strange, unsettling smile, and Sasha realized that whatever she'd gotten herself into, it was much bigger than a simple family vacation.