Instant disappointment, that was what Elvie felt. Despite looking to be made of the same thick stone as the Great Causeway, it was not what anyone would call pretty. Whereas the causeway was smooth and shiny, each block of Elder House was roughly fashioned, with a randomness that raised questions about its integrity or the builder’s sanity. Where you would expect straight walls to rise, Elder House’s curled away, forming side by side dome shapes that overlapped in some places as they pressed back into a small hill. It looked more like a pile of stacked stones than a residence of great magicians. What was the point of it – did the designer prefer curved buildings? Did they just not care?

‘I’ll wait here under this tree, where it’s nice a comfortable.’ Flynn said as they drew nearer.

‘You’re not curious?’

He paused and thought it over. ‘Hmmm. Maybe one day I might be, but I’ve heard the whispers, so not today. Anyway, that’s your house, and nobody has indicated to me I’ll be getting an invite anytime soon. Later, you can tell me about it if you want. Besides, it’s been a long day for me too.’

‘Sure, enjoy your nap old man,’ she said with a smile. With Rilla by her side, Elvie moved apprehensively towards a solid wooden door. ‘Ever been here before?’ She asked, butterflies floating around in her stomach.

‘Never.’ Rilla’s voice had gone back to a whisper. She wrapped one hand around Elvie’s and reached out to tap upon the door with the other.

Nobody responded.

Rilla tried again, firmer this time, as Elvie shuffled impatiently from foot to foot. Was anyone going to answer? As Rilla made to knock a third time, the door savagely opened outwards to clatter into her arm.

‘Who keeps tapping on my door?’ A purple cloak whirled to reveal a man. He looked them over, then turned to Rilla, who cradled her arm with a tear in her eye and said. ‘You. Ash House? Shoo. Leave us Elder House magicians alone for a while.’

‘But shouldn’t I stay? I’m to take her to Ash House once we’re done…’ She was noticeably scared by the Master but bravely asked it anyway.

‘Shoo, shoo… I can do that easily. Or do you think I can’t? It doesn’t matter either way – the wards will kick you out unless you’re invited in.’ Rilla visibly wilted, glanced worriedly at Elvie, but within a few moments was halfway down the road and heading to Ash House with Flynn. Elvie tried a quick wave, but neither looked back.

She turned to the man in the doorway who’d fixed his eyes on her keenly, but she wasn’t sure if he looked at her or through her. His eyes were those of a Cheshire cat, dominating his face and making his mouth appear unnaturally small. The final, laughable part of his style, was the wild and sporadic peaks of blond hair.

‘What do you want?’ he asked.

‘Umm…’ Elvie wasn’t sure how to respond.

‘Spit it out. Are you Elder House?’ From her cloak it was obvious she was, so Elvie wasn’t sure why he asked. He noted her downwards glance. ‘Cloaks mean nothing to me – anyone could find a purple cloak and stick it on. I want you to prove it. Show me some Elder magic to make me believe.’

‘But… I can’t.’ Should she go back to Elspeth and find the Elder stick?

‘Fantastic!’ He clapped his hands and Elvie couldn’t work out if he mocked her, or was genuine. ‘I hate it when they come here saying, ‘I know how to do this… Or I’m great at that spell…’ Rubbish! That’s what it is. They’re rubbish. Anyone who thinks they know what’s going on with Elder is a fool – myself included – and I am a fool.’

Elvie blinked rapidly. Was he sane?

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

‘We’re the Cursed House, you see. The Great House of magicians who can’t do magic. Nothing worthwhile anyway. Stories of old speak of Elder’s skills, and what can we do? Why, nothing!’

‘Now, why are you here? The other masters know not to send students my way. Alistar is crazy! That’s what they always say.’ He cackled crazily. ‘Why, we can’t promote him to Master of Elder House – even though there are only three of them – think of what he might do!’ Laughing came again. ‘You know what? You’d make a great Master of Elder House. How do you feel about it? Want the role? I’ll tell you one thing, it won’t bring you any job satisfaction!’

‘Ah… are you all right?’ Elvie tried her best to be polite.

‘Yes, yes, you’re right of course. I go too far. But my point is made nonetheless. I cannot teach you little one, as I don’t have spells to teach. So to Ash House you’ll go, and there you’ll learn to cast some proper spells. One day you’ll make it back, to join us in our research, or whatever it is that we’re doing. But for learning magic, well, there’s no place for you here. Also, you wouldn’t want to stay here with just two old men. I wouldn’t have the slightest clue what to do with you. But don’t worry, we’ll be two by two now. Two ladies, two gentlemen, four Elders. How exciting!’

‘Could I at least look around?’ It was torturous to stand on the step but not be allowed in.

‘Of course. Of course. No harm in that. Come on in! Look at the architecture, enjoy the view. Look how old it is – as old as can be. Explore everywhere if you like – not our personal spaces, Callum might get upset if I let you do that. You’ll see the layers upon layers upon more layers.’ He waved her through the doorway. ‘When you’re done, come find me, or scream and ol’ Alistar here will come find you. After that, I’ll point you in the direction of Ash House. But for now, my love of research beckons.’ And he left.

Elvie had experienced strange things recently, but Alistar, as he’d called himself, was the strangest of all. A wildness bubbled beneath the surface - not the sort oozing from the Sentinel, no, this was more like he struggled to hold onto his sanity.

She took a moment to try and orient herself within the building. While the design of the outside was not particularly impressive, the curved architecture of the ceilings had a dramatic effect internally. It created a rabbit’s warren – with rooms coming off hallways at all angles. The stacked effect visible from the outside continued as well, with endless steps and continuous level changes. Some steps led down to darkened spaces, some curved out of sight – a few went upwards. The design brief must have featured a tick box for chaos and confusion.

Each room Elvie entered had an engraved ceiling, some with artwork similar to one she’d once read. Michelangelo had painted a ceiling, somewhere. Her details were a little vague, but it was a long time ago. These artworks look about that age too. There were depictions of trees, cartoon-like in some examples and realistic in others. Medieval-style scenes of men and Kings occurred frequently, as well as portraits of people Elvie assumed were magicians. She wasn’t sure, but did she want to find Alistar and asked him? No, a self-guided tour was a better option.

For a long time, she wandered the house, becoming lost in the monotony of stairs, bedrooms, hallways. Bedrooms were continual – all unoccupied – and several lounge-filled common rooms were spread about. One featured a kitchen that had gathered layers of dust, and spiders now made their home in the corners. Elder House was a sprawling abandoned maze.

What struck her most about Elder House was how cold it was; she suspected the culprit was the fact the house cut down into the hill, while the unlit fireplaces didn’t help – they looked ready to go, but no spark kissed the wood stacked inside them. Elder House simply waited.

Passage after passage, stairway by stairway she wandered, poking her head inside some doors and skipping others. She didn’t feel the need to explore washrooms or cupboards, which would store cleaning items – but as she made her way along the various corridors she found one thing of interest.

Towards the back of Elder House, she found a room pushed deeper into the hill if the amount of cold emanating from the floor told Elvie anything. Nobody had come here for some time, judging by the wisps of dust rolling across the floor when she entered. White walls and timber beams running across the ceiling announced a plain room; it wasn’t adorned with paintings of decorations like the rest of the house. But the solid oak door resting at the back was intriguing – the locked solid oak door.

‘Why are you the only room locked?’ she asked the door, not that it responded.

What could possibly be inside? To put a lock on the door meant secrets lay within; perhaps something mystical, or was it something dangerous?

She twisted the handle down and up, pulled it with all her might – but it refused to budge. A tingle in her fingers as they grasped the brass told her the lock on the door needed more than a simple key to open – but she didn’t know enough magic to begin to understand how.

Her curiosity was piqued, especially when she fleetingly glanced over her shoulder at the door as she left, for one last look to lock it in her memory.

Two purple eyes gleamed back at her for an instant, before disappearing into the wood.