I was on the top of a crystal tower with walkways to other translucent crystal towers with spiral stairs. The ground below glittered with gems in gold, silver, bronze, and aluminum settings. Everything but steel. On the ground, dark gray dust rose in small clouds as I stepped. The dust was the poison I had detected from the shoes. In the mass of dust, I felt another toxicity. I think the dust was at one time radioactive, and it had mostly lost that over time.

There were places like gateways opened to areas that were not like any gateway I’d seen before. I sped time up and tried to overlay a gateway here. The gateways I had on me were dead. I went to the seven way intersection in Snipsnort.

#

I realized I’d brought a small cloud of toxic dust around my feet into Snipsnort. The gateways on me still worked, so I shifted the dust to my world of death and felt a tiny increase in mass. The world of death had eaten the poison.

I made a suit to protect me and went back to the world I’d linked to by licking a poisoned slipper.

#

I sat beside a strange gateway and closed my eyes. I couldn’t see it with my surgical and microscopic vision so I went further and looked with even greater magnification. Beyond the size of the toxic grit, light was barely useful. I thought about the deepest blue vision that I had played with while painting. Using violet-shaded ultramarine as the basis of sight, I could see smaller things, but it wasn’t enough.

And then everything changed. The world, they say, is an illusion. They say the world is made of tiny particles held together by electrons. I’d heard that and assumed it to be true.

Vision was impossible when the things you wanted to see were ignored by light. The only way to truly see was to use your imagination and imagine things you cannot see. I went past fog into thought and dream and thought. I dreamed I was in an abandoned world carved to hold things once loved by creatures driven by hate.

The gateway my almost-distant body stood by was a thing of cultured imagination. Someone had twisted physics so they could see something that was frozen in time. No light hit the things within the odd gateways, but the information inside was preserved on the outside of the gateway, and the effect was still vision.

I didn’t know how to cast a spell or wrinkle my nose and make this gateway. There was no position of the tongue to conjure this, but I knew how to build one, bit by bit, and then force it to grow. I also knew that if I touched it, it would go away, the objects inside would no longer be frozen in time.

If the original builder built these small gateways the way I’d have to, it would’ve taken twenty minutes each, and the number of towers with numerous gateways like this faded and stretched like glass telephone poles into the distance.

Returned to my senses, I stirred up toxic or at least noxious dust as I walked between towers and down to the more enduring treasures below.

In a time-frozen display, I saw a wooden drum like a six-sided gem that tapered from a drum head on one end. It was made of a golden wood with rose-colored grain. It was like a six-sided seed pod, and it had a hole in the side with strings above the hole. It was like a harp was attached to an udu made of wood. I closed my eyes to see it, but of course, it was frozen in time, and I could not really examine it.

I looked at the expanse of gems, jewelry, and coins I was just a few feet above and thought of the treasure that Aladdin took the lamp from. I smiled. He was allowed to take one thing. It might be silly, but this wooden drum and harp would be my choice even if I managed to explore this entire world.

I reached out, drew my hand back, then reached out to touch the drum. The gateway that had held time back was gone without visible change, but I could see it was gone. I picked up the instrument. It was lighter than I expected it to be.

A voice rumbled and shouted.

I looked up at a giant four armed man thirty-feet tall with huge stumps for legs. He shouted at me.

I shrugged. “I can’t understand a word you’re saying.”

He pulled on his vest like he was going to rip it. He gestured to me. I shook my head. He looked around. His expression changed but I could not read it.

He gestured at me and shrank to fit on the walkways and stairs. He gestured and I finally guessed that his gesture meant to follow as he would walk, look back, and gesture.

I followed him and he kept checking to see if I were following, but he’d stopped gesturing at me.

On a large crystal pavilion, a large half-natural half-carved crystal with pretty but tiny lights shifting from the dark base the crystal sat on.

He touched it and started talking. None of it made sense. Then he gestured the same way he did when he wanted me to follow. I caught on. His gesture did not mean follow, but it could. It meant, “Do as I do.”

The huge crystal he wanted me to touch wasn’t toxic, and I was wearing a suit with gloves anyway, so I touched it and started talking.

“My name is Phil. A dark thing tried to take me over, so I put I where it would die. He had been here so I came here. I picked up this wooden musical instrument, and you started yelling at me.”

I felt something like the possessing spirit that tried to take me over touch my mind. I recoiled but instead of trying to take a memory or action of mine from me, it had given me one.

The man with four arms said, “Do you understand me now?”

I said, “Clearly.”

He said. “Good. You woke me. I thank you. Now I will kill you.”

I asked, “Why didn’t you just attack me in the first place?”

He looked puzzled. “Who does that? No, you must know that you will die or it is no fun.”

I said, “You expect me to just stand here and let you kill me?”

He shook his head. “No, we go to the fighting place and then I stomp you. The master would be really mad if we broke the thought storage device or damaged his treasures.”

I asked, “Why would I care if I made your master angry if I’m about to die?”

He wavered. I think that was like shaking his head. “Because I could just slightly stomp you, and it would be really painful for a long time.”

He made the gesture for me to do what he did and started walking. “Don’t try to attack me from behind, or your death will be painful. I have eyes on the back of my head.”

I followed him until we reached a large raised crystal platform.

He got large again and his legs became huge stumps.

I turned into me in an armored spider excavator, turned on the outside speakers, and spun the cab around while extending the five-in-one scoop and putting its hardened steel teeth out to their longest extension. I made a biting move with the scoop. “How do you feel about stomping on steel?”

He shouted, “Unfair! That is the forbidden metal.”

I said, “I have no problem with it, and you made the challenge. Are we going to take all day, or are we going to fight?”

He wavered. “When the master comes, he will take over your mind and destroy you.”

I said, “I killed him. He’s gone. This is my world now and my treasure. If I give you a candy bar, will you leave me alone?”

He wavered. “You have food?”

He shrunk.

I held out the musical instrument I was holding, and realized I had a name for it. “Can you hold this pa-ad for a moment?”

He took the pa-ad carefully, and I turned into me with a backpack full of snacks. I set the backpack down, took the instrument from him, and turned back into me in the suit. I offered him a candy bar from the backpack. “Be careful, you’re not from my world, so you might not be able to safely eat peanuts.”

He took the candy bar.

I said, “No, take off the wrapper first.”

He bit through the wrapper and started chewing. I thought he said, “I’m not going to waste any of it, and I can eat just about anything.”

Or maybe he said, “I was going to eat your slime from the bottom of my foot, but this is better.”

He was eating as he talked, so it wasn’t clear.

He finished eating. I opened a root beer and handed it to him.

He drank it. “Did you really kill the master?”

I said, “Dark shade sort of thing that enters your mind and tries to control you?”

He said, “Yeah, that would be him. How do you kill a Spirit of Oppression?”

“I have a world that feeds on life. It takes a while, but I can speed up time. So what do I do with you?”

He made another face. “The master took away just about all my memories. He would have had me shrink back to my display and use the time freezing tool on me so I would just be freed if another display was unfrozen. I’m kind of used to that.”

I asked, “What did you do when you weren’t frozen?”

He gestured to the expanse of treasure below. “I sorted things. I like sorting things. I mean, I like candy bars and that drink you gave me more, but I like sorting things and stomping things. I only got to stomp things when master came in with them. That’s how he would feed me. Not that he did it a lot.”

I tried to feel the time rate. I had sped things up, but I didn’t have a reference for time.

I looked around and wondered if this simple and rather violent creature would be dead and dust by the time I got back. “Tell you what. Until I can get a clock in here, show me the time freezing tool so I can make sure you are not abandoned here.”

He asked, “Can I keep the rest of the food?”

I said, “Steel rings on the backpack. I’ll freeze it in time, too, so you can get food from it later.”

I went to the world of death to decontaminate my suit and made sure the poison was gone.

#

Back at the castle, I rejoined the group. As we walked, the group slowly broke up until it was just Goldilocks, Swampy, Jeremy, and me.

We stopped for coffee and egg tarts. I think they were a bit sweet for Jeremy. Without Jeremy noticing, I shared several with Swampy. I’ve always had a sweet tooth so I thought they were perfect.

Goldilocks said, “This has been a wonderful day. I have things I need to do, so I will be parting ways after this. It was a pleasure meeting you, Jeremy. Take good care of my apprentice for me.”

Jeremy excused himself to find a bathroom.

While he was gone, Swampy jumped to the table. “I’ll finish the pastel de nata. Goldilocks, there is a deal you want to make with Phil. In the gallery where Phil’s stolen tree is, there are several works of art that were stolen from places in Portugal.

“If you were to hand them over to the two gentlemen in trench coats that are trying to discretely watch you, and if you said the right words as you gave them those lost treasures, you might be able to travel the streets and cities of Portugal and not feel like they were trying to run you off. You could have coffee and pastel de nata here any time you wanted, and the only reason they would be watching would be their delight in seeing a beautiful woman.”

Goldilocks shook her head and her ringlets bounced. “But then I lose the delight of having such wonderful things.”

Swampy said, “They already know about the art and your association with Phil. You don’t get to keep the wonderful things, and Phil doesn’t want to. If Olivia finds out you are giving poor Phil a criminal reputation after he set up an amphitheater and kitchen for her to share and gave you each eleven time lockers with food in them, Olivia will start plotting how to teach you the errors of your ways.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

“This is your lucky day, since you are about to avoid some serious grief for no real cost to you.”

Goldilocks said, “Since you put it that way, I might as well get it over with.”

Goldilocks got up and started walking. She waved up to the pair of men in trench coats that I had not noticed before.

#

Jeremy, Swampy, and I spent the rest of the day at the Museu Nacional do Azulejo examining tiles and trying to figure out all the methods that were used to make the amazing murals and decorations.

#

At the hotel, Jeremy said, “Phil, since you want to be back in the Louisiana by Sunday, we only really have one more day, and you should probably take a flight back tomorrow evening. I have a friend in Madrid that I’d like you to meet. If you did a quick watercolor study of her, it could open some doors for you. How do you feel about taking a night train to Madrid?”

I smiled. “I will want my own sleeper. I don’t sleep well with others in the room.”

Jeremy asked, “Do you need to contact Goldie and let her know you’re leaving Portugal?”

I shook my head. “She was just here for the day. She travels a lot, and she is kind of impulsive.”

He smiled broadly. “I can’t believe she isn’t famous. Her artwork is wonderful and seriously, well, you know.”

I said, “I’m already packed, how soon do we leave?”

Jeremy said, “Not soon. The station is near our hotel, and if we get there at nine we’ll have lots of time. Shall I schedule it?”

I nodded.

#

We leisurely walked the streets looking at shops and trying to decide where to eat our last meal together in Lisbon. We ended up eating fish at a place because the smell was good. As we finished eating, it was almost time for us to leave when a trio of musicians started playing.

Back out on the street, Jeremy looked back at the restaurant. “I don’t know that a drum set would be right, but imagine how it might sound if someone added percussion to it.”

I shook my head. “Fado is what it is. When I play the pennywhistle, I don’t need percussion. I think percussion can enhance just about anything, but then you and I are first and foremost percussionists.”

Jeremy asked, “Do you ever think of fate? Fado means fate but in this case I think it is more like the regrets caused by the winds of chance.”

I glanced at Swampy. It is hard to look at someone who is sitting on your shoulder. “I think of fate from time to time, but when I do, it’s more about what’s going to come around the next corner when you least expect it.”

#

I opened a gateway for Swampy to sneak back to Anabranch while we waited to board the train. I was carrying four bags: my backpack, my new clothing bag, my udu, and my adufe. Jeremy was struggling with seven bags, and because of the shakers and maracas he’d bought, he made noise every time he moved.

Once we settled in on the train and Jeremy had decided to try and sleep, I contemplated my situation. I wanted to go back to Lisbon, I wanted to go to Fairy, and try my new instrument, and I wanted to make a double bass and play it. I was on a train and I was scared to try and shadow step off. I thought about trying to find a way to fly and decided to just sit on my bed and make gateways.

#

I’d woken up to the sound of Jeremy timidly knocking on my door. In the dining car we sat at a counter waiting for breakfast.

Jeremy said, “My friend, Noa, doesn’t get up before noon most days, so we’ll have most of the morning in Madrid. She wants to meet us at the Prado.”

I asked, “The Prado?”

He said, “You know the Museo del Prado.” From his look and sound it was inconceivable that I wouldn’t know the place.

I didn’t know, but I nodded.

After eating, we sat by windows and watched the scenery. I took out my phone and looked up the Museo del Prado and loaded the app so I could conceal my ignorance. I looked up maps and guides. I was irritated with myself for trying to conceal the simple truth. Somehow I had gone from just doing art and enjoying the gifting to needing to not seem stupid.

I was in the habit of pretending to be a normal child and that took a certain amount of deceit as I sold fish to small restaurants. Some of those restaurants were run by honest and caring folk that I felt bad about deceiving, but I had no choice. A Goblin is forced into little white lies, and we end up living a double life.

I didn’t need any such thing. As it was, my identity as Phil Thibodeaux was a fabrication. I wasn’t going to break down and confess anything, but I decided that I was best off not building any more stories unless I needed to.

#

Jeremy said, “We only have an hour before it opens, and we want to be there early. It isn’t a long walk to get there. I can’t predict Noa, she might wake up early and get there before we do or might be an hour late.”

I nodded. “I booked my flight. I’ll need to leave at 4:00 so I can get there early.”

Jeremy asked, “You don’t want me to see you off?”

I shrugged. “I’ll call you if there is a problem, but I don’t anticipate any issues.”

#

Inside the Prado, I wanted to take my time, and Jeremy wanted to rush to show me his favorites. I just followed Jeremy since I was going to be able to get back here easier that Jeremy was.

We stood in front of Diego Velasquez’s Les Meninas quietly. As I examined the details, I realized that the faces I’d carved and drawn were all showing beauty but not much else. I had dramatic lines, but Velasquez captured moments of personality.

As I studied the painting, I heard others’ conversations discussing the meaning of the painting. I could almost follow the Spanish. The French was clear and for once the German was mostly understandable.

Jeremy backed up to take a call and I continued looking. Part of me wondered if Velasquez was being over-examined and part of me was intrigued by the puzzle. I kept studying it. I wanted to walk back and forth to see it from other angles. but the crowd was going to make that difficult.

Jeremy tapped me on the shoulder. “Phil, I want you to meet my good friend Noa and my new friend Enzo.”

I turned. Noa was a small thin lady with dramatic features. Enzo was a large handsome Spanish gentleman. He was also a Daemon.

I glanced back at the painting and gave up my position to join Enzo, Noa, and Jeremy.

Enzo asked, “What is your impression of the painting?”

I said, “Truthfully, I don’t ever plan to settle in on a definite decision unless I have a chance to talk with the artist first. For now, I will take it as a self-portrait.”

Enzo asked, “So you don’t see deeper meaning?”

I smiled. “I think the artist watched expressions and knew that the eyes often told one story while the face told another. Of course, it had deeper meaning. But I hardly think my wildest theories are going to hold up to examination.”

Noa slapped Enzo on the shoulder. Not hard but not gently. “Ignore Enzo, he’s an artist and we have heard so much about you from Jeremy that I think he’s jealous.”

I considered my situation. Enzo had a good chance of already knowing that I knew he was a Daemon. I made sure to keep close to shadows and put myself on the other side of the group.

Enzo smiled at me as Noa extended her hand.

Noa said, “I’m delighted to meet you. Jeremy says that you have to leave this evening. You’ll have to visit again. Come anytime. I may be busy, but I can provide a place for you to stay while you explore the city.”

I looked up at Enzo and back at Noa, “If the gods are willing, I would love to take you up on your offer.

Enzo smiled and I recognized his face. One of the pictures I had looked at on my phone was a probably a painting of him. Not smiling, but I had seen his likeness just a few hours before. I had only looked up a few artists so I could probably find his likeness if I searched.

Noa asked, “So what is your wildest theory?”

I walked to another painting. “Notice how perfect and expressive the hands are. As far as I can see, he used hands to reveal even more personality. Velasquez’s Les Meninas shows hands in movement and blurred, yet there is a claw-like aspect. What that means, I cannot guess, but I think it is likely that he saw the claw and left it there. His face in the painting seems distorted. Not having met him, I cannot possibly judge, but I wonder if he was hinting at a mask or again suggesting motion. Again, these are wild observations.”

The crowd had moved on so I went back to look. Maybe he was hinting that we should look deeper.

Enzo said, “You have more, care to share?”

I said, “There are discussions on the web about the positions, shapes, and meaning. If I put myself in the painting, then I am either the king or queen. The mirror establishes that. Maybe he was telling the king and queen something. Maybe he had spent so long in the room painting and as a result, he had disappeared from everyone’s attention, and he was placing all the characters he had gotten to witness.

“Maybe he overheard or saw something and wanted to signal the king without saying anything. Unless Velasquez shows up and explains it, I’ll never know.”

I looked at Enzo. He wasn’t Velasquez unless he had more than one human form.

Enzo said, “No, the mirror is reflecting the painting.”

I shook my head. “Unless Velasquez is painting details, he is looking at the king directly. Since he is in the act of painting, if it is the painting in the mirror, it shows that he is nearly finished. I don’t know the rules of the day, but his direct look at the king may have been bold but required of an artist.”

Enzo asked, “Do you think it is a commentary on art?”

I looked at him, not understanding the question. Since he was a Daemon, I wasn’t going to be able to slide on this or fake an answer with him looking right at me. “Since this painting is obviously one of the more influential works in history, it is a milestone. From the moment it was made, it was going to be a reference for depth, perspective, position, shadow, and meaning. Before it, all paintings can be declared as uninfluenced.

“Now that I have seen it in person, how can I paint without being influenced by it?”

#

Looking at Fransisco Goya’s Death With Cudgels, Enzo asked, “What do you make of it?”

I said, “The Dog in combination with this gives the meaning away. I am not absolutely sure, but The Dog shows a poor beast looking up for help despite knowing none will come. It seems timeless and eternal. This is a protest, a lament, and a cry for help.”

Looking at Enzo, I saw past him. Olivia was looking at the painting.

I was a bit nervous about being with a Daemon, but with Olivia behind him, I felt brave.

I said, “Death With Cudgels shows two men mired in mud brutally fighting it out. If you put yourself in both pictures, you, too, are mired in the mud. You, too, share the fate. Possibly, there is a feeling that you might be charging the two men blindly, but slowly since you, too, are mired in mud. They are not attacking you, so if you are attacking them, you are not attacking the source of the problem. Maybe that is just my feeling, but Goya clearly wanted to me to feel strongly when I saw this work. Even as a bystander, the viewer is close and involved.

“When I look at this picture, my mind’s ear is playing ‘Sixteen Tons.’”

I looked at Enzo. “I think man has always looked at the gods and wondered if they were going to help. In the end, the gods drive men to madness, and men turn against each other since the gods are out of reach.”

In Fairy speech, Enzo asked, “Art thou trying to start a fight?”

I looked at the painting of men with the cudgels and thought back to him, “I was brought up fearing your kind. For you and me to fight, it would be like those two in their eternal battle. I reserve my battle for the ones who cause this mess. Perhaps you are my opponent, but I will avoid this fight. I am aiming for another target.”

Enzo asked, “Are we the dog in the painting?”

I said, “If we accept the dog’s plea, our perspective changes. If I am going to endlessly fight let me fight the ones that made this mess.

Olivia came over and took my hands. “Phil, darling, it has been much too long. Goldie told me you were wandering around, so I had to cast a few knucklebones and guess where you were. Then I came to see my favorite painting and here you were.”

Enzo asked, “The Dog?”

Olivia shook her head. “No, the picture that absolutely defines what Goya was saying.”

Olivia gestured to the painting of Saturn devouring his son. “It’s really quite unfair. Apart from a rebellious period, Saturn was always a sweetheart. It is entirely unfair that he got such a bad reputation. But the meaning of the painting is just using Saturn as an icon of injustice.” She turned to me. “So, Phil, I haven’t seen you in ages. How long are you in Madrid?”

I said, “At four, I need to get to the train station to get my luggage out of the locker and then go to the airport. Olivia, forgive my rudeness. Olivia, this in Enzo. I recently saw a painting of him, but I’m not remembering who painted it. I need to spend a while looking it up. Enzo, this lovely, gentle, and kind lady is Olivia.”

Olivia held out her hand to Enzo.

Enzo carefully took her hand. “I am delighted to meet you.”

I asked, “Olivia, are you and Goldilocks looking out for me?”

Olivia said, “Someone has to.”

Enzo asked, “Goldilocks, the Goldilocks? You know you can’t trust her.”

I said, “Oh, please. How could I not trust someone I’m head over heels in love with? It’s sad that no one else understands her the way I do.”

Olivia said, “Goldie will be ever so glad that you are varying your refrain. Do you really love her more than you love me?”

I sighed. “Looking at you, I cannot image that anyone is as lovely. Yet, I am Goldilocks apprentice, and she is my muse. But if you want, I will be glad to put your likeness into more of my art.”

Olivia hugged me and looked at Enzo, “He’s always begging pretty women to pose for him. None of us can resist, and he does such delightful things.”

“Phil, I’m going to be wandering around, I don’t get to Madrid often enough. When you can, I have another favorite painting I want you to look up. It is by Velasquez, Juan de Pareja. It’s another favorite of mine. It shows an artist looking at one of the few men he could completely trust. The subject is looking back at the master artist and regretting that his friend is mortal and in a few short years, he’ll lose an irreplaceable friend. At least, that is what it says to me, and it’s a feeling that I have felt more than a few times.”

I nodded since I thought that was the painting of Enzo that I had remembered seeing.

Olivia stepped away and looked back. “When you create art with me in it, remember to invite me to see it. Don’t worry, I won’t claim it as mine like some people do.”

#

Jeremy and Noa came back and joined us.

Jeremy asked, “Phil, who was that?”

I asked, “Smitten?”

Jeremy said, “I could easily be.”

I said, “Her name is Olivia. As to the rest, I think she likes to preserve a bit of mystery.”

Noa asked, “Do you need a ride to the airport?”

I smiled. “No, I want to travel the street a bit on my own, reclaim my baggage, and then get to the airport.”

Noa said, “Remember my invitation and be sure you have more time next time you are in Madrid.”

#

On the plane, I made gateways and decided that in my further trips, I would make my own travel arrangements. I’d still visit Jeremy, but I didn’t want to be constrained by travel times. I’d use cash and if I could, leave no record that Phil Thibodeaux was in a country if I could avoid it.

After passing through customs, hopefully for the last time, I was free.

#

I sat on the Empire State Building and felt a pair of Goblins sliding through shadows.

A girl who looked like she could be in high school said, “If a fellow were pushed off with enough force, he wouldn’t be able to get into shadow fast enough to survive exit.”

I said, “Pleasure meeting you, too.”

She laughed and went back to shadows and down.

The other girl looked younger than me. “Ignore her. She thinks she has to act tough to survive.”

I handed her a bundle of twenties. “Honest money. Take care of yourself.”

I slid into shadow and raced downward to the street. I spent a short while gently sliding from shadow to shadow so no one noticed me. Under the cover of trees in Central Park I looked up Velasquez and the painting, Juan de Pareja. It was in The Metropolitan Museum of Art. The Met was just a short way away. I shadow stepped and found a pair of Goblins had joined me in shadow as I got to the museum.

They were trying to hit hard with the shadow’s wake, like they wanted to cause shadow burn. I stepped out and two large disfigured men slid out of shadow with me.

“You got a Met card?”

I shook my head.

“You don’t just wander in, and you don’t take things. You play by rules or you disappear.”

I asked, “Are you the Goblin police?”

The taller Goblin raised his head in a slow nod keeping his eyes on me. “This is our turf, and we keep trouble down. We don’t let light-fingered Goblins ruin things.”

I asked, “Can I pay to go in?”

The tall Goblin said, “Walk in during the day and pay to go in. We still watch, but regular hours. New York isn’t like some places. We have rules.”

I said, “You can shadow burn yourself doing what you do.”

The shorter more disfigured one said, “Badge of honor. Tells folk we are serious. You can stroll through our turf but don’t be steppin’ in buildings you don’t belong in.”

I asked, “I can offer you cash, and I don’t plan to damage or take anything. What if you accompanied me so I can just examine the exhibits?”

“We extract fees from some of the local businesses. A lot of folk around here are savvy. Some are a little savvy, and they all know a good deal. Since we work this turf, it wouldn’t be right. We are honest business men.”

I asked, “So there’s no way for me to just explore? I don’t plan to take anything.”

The tall one said, “Buy a membership or become an intern. Right now, you can leave until ten tomorrow.”

The other one said, “You won’t like the wards anyway. There are surprises for folk that shadow step where they don’t belong.”

I nodded to them. There was no reason I had to see anything that night. I shadow stepped back to the park, hid a gateway, and went to Fairy.