A blink of an eye and she wasn’t in the grove anymore, staring at the shambles of her home. Now she was in a palace, made of polished white stone laced with thin veins of smooth prismatic crystal. The walls, the floor, even the extremely high ceiling were all made of the stuff.
Four hallways branched off from this main room and a large clear glass window overlooked the maze. There were hundreds, maybe thousands of feet above it, yet she still couldn’t see where the deadly plants ended.
He released her hand the moment they were safe inside,
“This way.” He beckoned down the nearest hall. “I’ll give you a quick tour then I must get back to my work.”
She followed behind him, bunching the material of the skirt in both hands to keep from tripping over it. She’d never had to worry about tripping over a gown before and the last thing she wanted to do was make a fool of herself more so than she already had.
The hall let out into a large formal dining room, with enough seats to hold two dozen people surrounding and intricately painted rectangular table. A chandelier hung above it, made of the same crystal that rippled through the walls.
A centimeter thick layer of dust coated every object in the room. Candles rested untouched in their holders. Each seat at the table was set with fine china and full sets of silver cutlery so tarnished, it had turned a nearly black brass color. It was obvious that he’d not had company in a long time, if ever.
In the center of the table was a massive bouquet of once living flowers, long since dead and dried, their petals forming a halo around the bottom of the vase. Windows lined the walls, showing more of the same never ending maze. From above, the blazes looked almost pretty, especially as the sun was beginning to set. The far wall was devoid of windows, instead had a set of tarnished silver double doors.
“This is the dining room. It'll take a bit of work to get it and the kitchen clean, especially the kitchen, but perhaps you might join me for a formal meal once that work is complete. I haven't even been in this room since before you appeared in this maze.” He dragged his finger across the thick layer of dust on the table with a grimace of disgust. “Apologies. You have your work cut out for you.”
He wiped the dust on the hem of his coat, “I don’t use the kitchen myself. I don’t usually cook the creatures I summon from the maze, but you’re welcome to use it at any time. I do believe humans tend to cook their food, am I correct?”
A chill went down her spine, picturing the unlucky creatures who hadn’t found relative sanctuary in the grove. All she could do was nod in response and her went dry.
He smiled as though he were pleased with himself for remembering, “If you’ll follow me,” He led her out of the kitchen and back down the hall to the main room, before leading her down the hall to its left, “Now,” He began.” You are strictly prohibited from entering my lab. I wouldn’t want you interfering with my experiments, but the rest of the house is available for you to use as you wish. My lab is the only room upstairs.”
He stopped her in front of a door, which he opened for her. It led out into a beautiful greenhouse, filled with all manner of plants, both magical and non magical. The ceiling of the greenhouse was entirely dull yellowish white light, simulating sunlight. “I trust if you survived in my maze as long as you did, you do know the difference between what’s edible and what isn’t?”
She had absolutely no clue what the plant with clear glowing leaves was nearest to the doors, so she replied, “If I don’t know what something is, I’ll avoid it.”
He smacked her back with a bellowing laugh as she yelped and jumped away, “Good on you. On with the tour.”
They continued down the same hall a ways before stopping in front of another door, this one he didn’t open, “In there are slightly more… shall we say… aggressive ingredients. You are free to use what you’d like in my beast room but I recommend at the very least a good protection spell.”
Her cheeks flushed hot with shame, “I’m not able to use magic. I don't have the Spark.”
The Faedemon stared at her blankly for a moment, “What absolute ignoramus told you that? Of course you do! My runes would never have bonded to you if you didn’t. It’s not all too powerful, no human is, but I can see that Spark as clear as day.” He prodded her sternum with a finger as if to illustrate exactly where her Spark was.
Smacking his hand away, she scowled indignantly, “Every House of Magic rejected me. They told me I didn’t have it. They wouldn’t even bother to try to teach me.”
He scoffed, “My Fae, humans have gotten stupid in the last few millennia. I could teach you more powerful spells and runes than the little parlor tricks I’m sure they’re pedaling, easily. I, at least, expected that useless bunch of magic hoarding magpies would have taught you something of use. How did you think you were going to take care of my house if not for magic?” He shook his head, “Tomorrow, I’ll show you everything you need to know to do your job and, maybe, if you’re a bit smarter than half those harebrained halfwits, I’ll be able to teach you something with a bit more panache.” The grin of a giddy child spread across his cheeks as she could practically see his plans glowing behind his eyes.
Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.
The tiniest twinge of excitement bubbled inside her chest, “You’re going to teach me magic?”
“Of course. I’m quite honestly not sure how so many humans live without it. Tell me, how do you all survive? What were you doing in your time in my labyrinth?” He cocked his head curiously as if absolutely mesmerized by the prospect of life without magic.
“I was trying to survive. In the beginning I had nothing and it took a lot of trial and error to even begin to find a way to survive so much as winter! Not to mention the smoke and your storms!” She finally snapped. “I had to build my home, find a way to protect myself, to scavenge food! I bore the agonizing burns and thorns every day trying to keep the Firerose vines from destroying my home that you destroyed in half a second without so much as a thought. That!” She hissed, the dress begging to burn more fiery than the roses. No longer the storm, now she was a bubbling volcano of rage. “That is what I did for the last 50 years!”
He took a step back with a chuckle, “I hadn't meant to cause an outburst. Calm yourself. I was merely inquisitive. I now see that your little hovel is a touchy subject. I apologize for bringing it up. Let us continue with the tour.” He paced back down the hall to the main atrium, leaving her behind.
She had to unclench her jaw and dig her fingernails out of the palms of her hands before following.
Once she caught up, they ventured down the next hall on the left, this one was lined with doors. They didn't bother stopping at any of them until arriving at the largest doors at the far end.
“These will be your quarters,” He opened the door, allowing her to step inside. “I have many guest rooms, but I think you’ll find this one the most pleasing.”
The room was massive, easily three times as big as her cottage. A crystal encrusted wooden vanity stood against the wall on the right, topped with a variety of potions, tonics, and a handful of cosmetics.
To the left was an open door displaying a washroom. The tub was fed by a hovering and never ending ball of water. Though, the tub wasn’t over flowing and she doubted it ever would.
On the far wall of the room was a giant bed, draped in the finest looking silk sheets and woven blanket. The head of the bed rested against a huge window that took nearly the whole wall.
The best part of the room, by far, was the view. It was the first time she’d looked out a window and not seen the roses. Outside was a lovely mountainous landscape becoming dusk with a dazzling waterfall and flock of sheep grazing on the side. The palace was hovering above it, almost floating alongside it. Blue birds flitted just outside the glass, she could hear their light chirping.
With that, the last of her rage fell away as she took a few tentative steps into the room. She hadn’t seen mountains, or waterfalls, or even sheep in decades.
“You’re pleased with the little view I’ve concocted then?” His voice was content.
She turned back to face him, “You concocted?”
“Yes, sadly it’s simple illusion magic on the glass. As I’ve said before, home is at the heart of the maze. So unfortunately it’s still out there. If you don’t like this view I can easily change it.” He waved a hand and the mountains became a cliff over which waves crash against rocks and gulls cawed from off in the distance.
Her head fell, “Oh…” Her dress turned to heavy rain clouds, seemingly casting dark shadows on the illusion before her.
“You’re disappointed.” His smile wavered ever so slightly. “Tell me what view you’d like. It’s a simple fix.” he crossed his arms in front of him.
“The mountains were fine…” She muttered.
He sighed shortly, with a small scowl, “Very well.” With a wave of his hand, the sound of bluebirds returned. “I suspect you are tired. The tour is concluded. My chambers are in the final hall, as is the staircase to my lab. You have no need to visit either. Unless you’d like me to get you something to eat, I’ll leave you to your devices.”
She sat down on the edge of the bed, “I’m not hungry.”
“Well, if you change your mind, you know where the greenhouse is.” With a slightly irritated huff, he left.
Corabelle curled up on the bed, staring out at the fake sheep and birds. The bed was far more comfortable than her shack, and even more comfortable than the one in her home in the village.
As the fake sky outside her window grew dark with the coming night, her eyelids grew heavy and she drifted off to sleep.
Her dreams were of her home and family. They were perfect.
Her sister etched in her book with the wax chalk her father would bring home from the market. Her mother kneaded dough in the kitchen while her previous creation baked in the small cast iron stove her grandfather had forged as a wedding gift for her mother and father. Her grandmother stitched a beautiful quilt from her favorite chair in the corner while humming lightly to herself. In the distance, she could hear her father hammering the tacks into shoes in his workshop. Every detail was just as she remembered, down to the smell of her mother’s freshly baked apple tart.
Everything was perfect. That was, until she woke up.