The Bhantla's Chefs led the students across the bridge and up the winding hill path to the plateau that housed the main village road, the crowd gathering around with their whispering gossips and questions.

"So many young Chefs…"

"Is that our Barley?"

"Are they with the Bhantla too?"

"Are they in trouble?"

Archie wondered the same. He complied with the Bhantla's Chefs, but a fire burned within him. Who were they to take him prisoner? And what did they want with him?

Then he caught a glimpse of Barley's face and saw something there. Shame.

Archie sighed for his friend. For as many ways as Barley had envisioned his homecoming, this was certainly not one of them. He hung his head low, unable to meet the gaze of the people that had raised him.

The sun finally set, producing a sudden darkness. The people lit torches and lanterns to illuminate the plateau. The students arrived at the large temple that stood above the fork of the river. Another Purple Jacket sat on the steps to the door, standing as they approached.

"You got them all?" he asked.

"The Bhantla said six," another Chef answered as he put Hawthorn's confiscated quarterstaff over his shoulder. Their casualness drove Archie crazy.

He wasn't the only one. Nori stepped away from the group and clenched her fists. "What is going on?" she demanded.

"We told you. The Bhantla wants to see you."

Nori planted her feet in the ground. "You won't tell us why!"

"Relax."

"No! You took us prisoner!" Nori's clenched teeth and ferocious anger made the Bhantla's Chefs reconsider their defenseless posture. Without a word, they took subtle steps that allowed them to flank Archie's group on all sides.

"You're not a prisoner. The Bhantla just has some questions for you."

"So I can leave?"

A sigh. "No."

"Then I'm a prisoner!" Nori's rage boiled over.

"You can calm down or we can restrain you," one of the Red Jackets said.

Nori inhaled sharply, preparing her next tirade.

A calm, harmonious voice cut through the tension.

"Take a deep breath," it said.

A person in white robes appeared in the doorway. Their robes were made in the fashion of monks, not Chefs, but Archie knew kalypo cloth when he saw it. This was no monk. This was a White Jacket Chef. The Bhantla.

If Archie hadn't already known that the Bhantla was a woman, he would have never been able to guess her gender. Her features were neither masculine nor feminine—a bald head, a thin, pointed nose with a pronounced septum. Her lips were just a suggestion—thin, cracked, and pulled pale across her mouth. Even at rest, they did not touch, revealing the tips of her crooked teeth.

Her wide cheekbones stood out like mountains between her sallow cheeks and sunken blue eyes. She had no eyebrows and only faint lines of wrinkles around her eyes. Archie couldn't tell her age or if she even had one. She didn't seem of this world.

Uncaring of the previous conflict, she walked down the stairs. She seemed to glide, her feet only giving the appearance of connecting to the earth. She placed a hand on Nori's shoulder. Nori flinched, but the Bhantla didn't care.

"I am sorry for this," she said, her voice sweet like honey yet somehow devoid of emotion. Her words didn't seem to come from a person—they were just a truth spoken into the world.

If Nori wanted to talk, she couldn't get around the lump in her throat.

The Bhantla turned to Archie. He felt some psychic force push his consciousness deep inside himself, separating it from his physical body. His eyes unfocused. His legs wobbled. Everything warped for a moment. Then he was back in their physical world, the Bhantla standing just within arm's reach.

But she didn't reach for him. She just looked at him and then moved on to Hawthorn.

"You're from the Monastery," she said to him. A statement of fact, not a question.

"Yes, Bhantla," Hawthorn said, the reverence in his voice making Archie realize something.

The Bhantla wasn't a leader to these people.

She was a god.

"The—these are my friends," Hawthorn continued. "They came—"

The Bhantla interrupted him not with words, but with a look. She placed a hand on his shoulder and nodded once. She moved on to Sutton, touching his shoulder and leaving Archie wondering why the Bhantla had skipped him. Sutton's legs buckled at the touch. He opened his mouth but spoke no words.

The Bhantla's upper lip peeled back as she touched Blanche's shoulder.

"You," the Bhantla said. Blanche gasped. Archie's heart dropped for her. "You have searched for something."

"I—I don't…What? What do you mean?" Blanche's face melted with stress. Archie had seen the expression before from their time in Colby's kitchen. "Do you mean my essence?"

The Bhantla's half-open mouth curled up into an unsettling smile. The blank stare on her face lacked the serene calmness of before, her mouth twitching like an unpredictable animal waiting to strike.

"I—I was foraging," Blanche stammered. "We came from—"

Once again, the Bhantla interrupted with her eyes, needing no more information. Blanche shrunk down into herself.

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The Bhantla moved on to Barley. She moved slowly and almost unintentionally—the steps of someone with no enemies, not even time. Her head barely poked above Barley's shoulder, forcing her to reach up to rest her hand near his neck.

"You're from Jakha," she said. "But not the Monastery."

Barley shared the student's fear and the Khalyans' reverence. He bowed his head as he spoke. "I go to the Academy of Ambrosia."

The Bhantla's lips peeled back ever so slightly. "Ambrosia City is rife with Gluttons. The Academy runs on sponsors."

"I work at Tansha. It's run by Chef Goji. He went to the Monastery and then opened a restaurant in Ambrosia City."

The Bhantla tilted her chin up, allowing her to close her mouth. She turned her head to look at Archie again. He felt the weight of her gaze.

"Excuse me, Bhantla," Barley said. "Is everything okay?"

The Bhantla did not acknowledge Barley. She looked at the male Red Jacket that had captured them. "Where they go, you will follow."

The Bhantla raised two crooked fingers to point at the space between Archie and Nori.

"I have questions for these two," she said. "Inside."

The Bhantla turned to leave, having touched all of them but Archie, and went back inside.

"Alright. Take them inside," the Red Jacket said to the rest of the Bhantla's Chefs. He turned to Barley. "You four have roam of the village, but I'll be accompanying you."

He moved to usher them away from Archie and Nori.

"Wait," Blanche panicked. "We're not going without them!"

"Blanche," Barley said with an even seriousness that spoke volumes.

"They'll be fine," Hawthorn said as he looked at the ground.

Would they? Archie looked at Nori, but the fight had gone from her. Something about the Bhantla's presence had dazed both of them. They allowed themselves to be ushered toward the main building.

Archie's legs buckled on the first stair. He grabbed at his chest while it tightened. Nori grabbed him by the elbow and pulled him up and into the temple where a horror awaited.

The low, guttural growl of a Glutton welcomed them into the main hall, the sound echoing off the granite floors. Leather straps bound him to a wooden slab that tilted toward the door. Behind him, stretching forty feet from the wooden stage up to the yellow stone and red lattice wood ceiling, the mural of a woman holding a pomegranate looked down on them.

As Archie stepped into the hall, the smell of incense entered his body. It seemed to fill him up to the edges of his skin, stretching it with great discomfort. The Glutton squirmed and growled. Beside him, a Black Jacket, hairless and albino like the Bhantla, watched the man struggle with indifferent eyes. The Bhantla walked up the stage, facing the Glutton.

The door slammed shut behind Archie. He turned around to find that none of the other Chefs had entered with them. Archie looked at Nori. She had sucked in her bottom lip, but her eyes stayed fixed on the stage. When Archie turned back to the Bhantla, she was already looking at him. Through him.

"You have come far," she stated. Even from halfway across the room, she barely spoke above a whisper. The Glutton growled at the sound of her voice. "You have a reason."

Archie exchanged a worried look with Nori. He had come to Jakha with the belief that no one could stop him from searching for the yetis. That belief wavered. Nori nodded at him, imparting just enough strength for him to clear the lump in his throat.

"Our friend is from here. We've been at the Monastery. He wanted to visit his home."

"The truth," the Bhantla stated. "But a lie."

"My village. It lacks essence. We've come to—"

"The yetis will not part with their tankhawa easily," the Bhantla interrupted.

Archie recoiled, wondering how she knew so much already. He thought that maybe she knew everything. "We were hoping you'd be able to help."

"You have another reason for being here."

"I don't..." Archie looked at the Black Jacket, hoping he might be able to offer an explanation. But the man was little more than the Bhantla's shadow, echoing her piercing gaze.

An invisible light grew and emanated from the Bhantla. Archie could not see its rays, but he could feel its fire. It was so potent that it took him a moment to realize that it was her essence. He felt more of hers than he did his own.

"You are here to stop the exorcism," she stated. Her essence swelled, smothering Archie and depriving him of air.

He felt something primal deep within himself rise to the surface, squeezing his heart and accelerating his breath. He had felt it just before the licertes had charged him. The feeling of being seconds from death.

Desperation solidified in his stomach, turning over and driving him to nausea. He did not will the words to be spoken, but they spilled out like vomit.

"We're here for an acorn!"

"You have been guided here by foul forces beyond your understanding."

Archie would have collapsed if Nori hadn't held him up. "That's not—"

"You knew the way here as if you had walked the path before."

Archie's head spun. She was right. Something about their trip had felt familiar. His essence leaked from his skin, the Bhantla soaking it in. Stealing it. His knees buckled. The Glutton roared, shaking the wooden slab as he yanked on his restraints.

"Stop!" Nori screamed.

And the Bhantla did. Her essence withdrew, and Archie gasped for air.

"You have heard the wendigo's call. It resonates within you."

"I just…" Archie panted. "Want to…help people."

"The truth," the Bhantla repeated. "But a lie."

"I don't…understand."

"You have the wendigo in you," the Bhantla stated.

The lack of emotion in her voice only added to Archie's confusion. He no longer felt threatened by the Bhantla, but he felt threatened by something greater. He retreated inside himself, searching to verify the Bhantla's claim. If he truly had the wendigo in him, he would burn it out with no regard for the collateral damage.

"You have heard his voice," the Bhantla told Nori. Her head tilted sideways to look at Archie. "You have Gluttony in your blood."

Archie breathed in and out and in and out, but his lungs seemed to only deflate. He breathed harder, desperate for air.

"My grandfather," he muttered. "He's dead." The Bhantla inhaled, but just before she could speak, Archie blurted out, "I never knew him."

This seemed to satisfy the Bhantla. She closed her mouth and took a deep breath through her nostrils.

"What do you mean we have the wendigo in us?" Nori asked.

"You have encountered it," the Bhantla answered. "It has planted a seed in you that has been rendered inert." She looked at Archie. "But the seed still lives within you. Your lineage has served as a fertile soil for the wendigo's presence many times in the past."

It was Archie's turn to threaten with essence. He pooled it into his left hand, stopping just short of conjuring his slingshot.

"It is not an insult," the Bhantla said. She did not react to Archie's threat. "It is the way of the world, of which you know little."

"I am not a Glutton," Archie growled. "I will never be a Glutton."

"You did not come with the intention of protecting the wendigo. I see this." The Bhantla looked at the Glutton, causing him to yelp in pain. "But you must be monitored. You must be cleansed."

"Cleansed?"

The Bhantla closed her eyes. A Purple Jacket opened the door from the outside, stepping in as if summoned.

"The Harper will join her friends. She will be monitored," the Bhantla commanded. "The Kent will be held in the prison."

"What?!" Archie and Nori asked in unison.

"We will be sure of your innocence upon your cleansing," the Bhantla stated, her voice remaining even in the face of Nori's rising fervor.

"You can't take him away!" she yelled. "You can't do this!"

But Archie knew that she could. The Bhantla was right about everything. Archie knew little, but he knew that much. "It's fine," he mumbled to Nori. "It's fine."

Nori looked at him with furrowed brow and tensed lips. Then, she relaxed. "Imprison me with him, then," she stated. "I've heard the wendigo, right?"

"Nori, what are you—"

"I won't let you be alone."

The Bhantla stared at them for a while before nodding. "They will both be imprisoned. The ritual will begin tomorrow. They will be cleansed."

The Bhantla turned her alien gaze onto Archie. "Or they will be killed."

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