The Goblin King's Masquerade

by SoarHighFox

Summary:

Sarah is twenty-five years old and a fairly successful actress on the stage. She has mostly shrugged off her previous adventure as nothing but a fanciful dream, Toby has hardly mentioned it to her so she assumes he can't recall the events either. On winter's day, Sarah receives a rare invitation to a masquerade party in Scotland hosted by a mysterious stranger. Never one to turn the opportunity for adventure, Sarah accepts. But what could really be happening at the ball? There are strange people, creatures almost, in attendance, and Sarah find's herself the unfortunate prize in a dark plot to remove her from the Underground's records. How do you fight against the magic not of this world? Don't take anything for granted.

Notes:

This story is actually completely outlined, but I write in spurts and out of order. Because of that, updates are inconsistent. (: But I hope you'll join me on this wickedly cool story I feel like sharing!!

Comments and kudos are always welcomed and appreciated!

Chapter 1: Prologue

Once there was a girl, with chocolate brown hair and emerald green eyes. A girl who dreamed of goblins and dresses; of faeries and adventure. A girl, who at one time was the center of her parent’s universe. Her mother taught her to use her imagination to expand and see beyond the world she lived in, to see what lies in the mysterious shadows of the universe. That through the stories she created, she could create her own reality, or uncover hidden truths perhaps in others. Her father was much the same then. He would join in their fantasy adventures with roles of his own. On occasion they even turned the living room into a makeshift stage to perform in front of each other. The girl and her parents would spend countless hours together creating fanciful tales of far off places with royalty and monsters. Great beasts that would be nearly insurmountable. The girl never wanted to play the damsel as her mother did often, but instead, took on the role of knight in shining armor to swoop in and fatally strike down the monsters of their imagination. The days passed so quickly that they shared together. Summers spent on voyages together, whether at home or perhaps out in the world some, new scenes for her to add to her journey. If only there had been more.

Once, the girl stepped off the bright yellow school bus, excited for the winter break that had just begun! The holidays were permeating the atmosphere and a soft puff of snow blanketed the earth. New flakes had just begun falling gently from the gray skies above. The girl was excited to spend the whole time creating new stories to play with her family. She skipped joyfully up to the porch. But as the girl opened the door to her home though, her father was standing right in the entry way, his coat on and keys in hand. He said few words, and hastily took the girl’s hand. They were off back into the car before she could even set her backpack down inside. The girl was confused. Her father was speaking about heading to the hospital, something terrible had happened to her mother. The ride was swift, lights breezing by outside in a blur. The girl remembers the silent snow fall as her father picked her up once the car was parked ran towards the entrance. It was quiet outside.

It was loud inside. People were bustling everywhere, and carts rolled by with people in them. Some quiet and unmoving and others moaning. There were many of them. Her mother was part of this group she thinks, he father is speaking with a lady at a counter explaining how the accident had affected them all. They were taken to a different room to sit. Time passed in a haze for the girl. There were machines chirping, fast shoes squeaking on the shiny floor, her father’s voice loud and frustrated at a lady dressed in blue clothes.

More time passed and soon she was seated on her father’s lap as he sat beside her mother, lying still on the white bed. There were other machines in this room, constant noises and the bustle of nurses and doctors passing by and stopping in on occasion. The girl didn’t know how much time had passed, but they didn’t leave the room, hoping that her mom would open her eyes and smile at them again. The girl felt scared.

 Suddenly there were more noises, louder and more obnoxious than before. Her mother wasn’t waking up though. She reached out for her mother’s arm, desperate to wake her as the room was swarmed with nurses and doctors. Suddenly the girl was picked up by a stranger to be removed from the room, confused she cried out and reached for her mother, crying out for her now. Pleading with her to wake up. All the people were surrounding her mother, seemingly create more chaos to try and solve the noises of the machines. The girl understood something terrible was happening, that her mother was in danger of something unknown to her. She cried again, flailing to try and go back. She was handed off to her father and the glass door was shut to keep them out of the way. Her father was shaking, her set her on the floor before he himself slumped in a heap on the floor. There weren’t so many noises now.

Just one.

Once it was silent. The girl remembers how quiet the snowfall is, even the people all dressed in black, some shivering with cold, others with tears, were still and unmoving, transfixed perhaps. The air is calm all through the gathering, the gentle snowflakes lazily drift towards the frozen, rigid ground. Her father is mute, he says nothing the entire time, but she sees his eyes still glisten throughout. The girl has no more tears for today. Her voice had been hoarse for over a week previously. But today, today it was silent.

Once the girl grew up. The girl’s father no longer the man of intense make-believe, but instead one of traditional values. He changed business ventures, finding accounting his new calling for their family. And with that growth came more changes. Soon, the girl found her father brought home a new lady, his girlfriend at that time. The girl understood, but felt angry. How could her father love another? It wasn’t fair. He was to find a new love, but how could she ever think to have a new mother? The girlfriend eventually became her step-mom. As the girl grew, she did her best to follow all the new rules, but found herself struggling, not quite feeling as accepted in this new family as the old one she’d had.

Once there was a baby. And with that baby came nightmares of a new kind. Tragedies and difficulties the girl never knew could exist before. Coexisting with another person in the family, as well as having to take a role in the responsibilities. The girl was frustrated, she’d seen so much more in her mind and her imagination none of this should have happened. She knew about step-mothers, how was hers to be any different? Especially that suddenly brought a baby into the group. Her father was so taken by this newly constructed family he couldn’t see how his girl just felt out of place now.

Once there was a grand adventure. Of faeries who bite and goblins who chase after chickens, of swamps and junkyards. An adventure where time had little meaning, and everything was never as it truly seemed. The girl had everything she’d ever longed for. The enemy that was constantly ready to challenge her, to sweep her off her feet in her imagination. Herself the heroine of her tale, saving the person she’d wrongly thrown blame upon, she became the knight she had always valiantly determined to call herself. The girl went through the challenges He threw at her and overcame them. The girl felt her imagination rekindle and burn with a passion she’d hadn’t felt in years through the trials, and worked hard overcame the hardships. She had found friends, friends who she now treasured and wished to help outside of herself. The girl had faced Him and won. The girl did not understand what she’d done. Not entirely.

Once the girl grew up. The girl whose mind flourished with tales that were perhaps only dreams in her memory now studied and practiced hard to become exactly what she’d wanted to be. An actress. Changing her roles like a chameleon for each production, expanding her abilities with genres and works she was offered. The girl soared, her mind so enthralled with bringing her roles to life, she excelled often, her voice talented. The girl, now a woman, had received an invitation to a premiere gala from a patron no one had ever met. She had agreed, for what could be more adventurous than a masquerade in a far away place with the chance to meet a mysterious stranger?

Once there was a girl who had the adventure of a lifetime.

Once there was king who had fallen in love with the girl.

Once there was a champion of the Labyrinth who had left and had yet to return.

Once there was a plot to kill the champion.

And once more there were to be goblins who chased chickens, fruits that caused hallucinations, dances that were full of passion as well as some danger, friends from the past, owls with knowing eyes, and a maze of ever-changing paths.

There was once a girl named Sarah Williams, but what she didn’t know was that the king had fallen in love with the girl and given her special powers. Powers that perhaps neither of them understood the risk of until now.

Welcome all to the Goblin King’s Masquerade.

Chapter 2: Chapter 1

Summary:

We begin the journey.

Notes:

Hello all!! I am so so thrilled to have finished this for you guys! The story line is completed, I'm anticipating somewhere around 12-15 chapters in total, but that may be adjusted as I continue writing the story. For reference Toby is 13 in this scenario, and yes we're going to acknowledge he is not like most 13 year old boys. Hope you all enjoy!! Please leave any comments, I love to hear feedback.

This is only edited by me, and whatever google docs catches. If you notice any glaring grammar errors please let me know so I can get them corrected quickly!

UPDATED 09/05: I have gone through and edited some parts for grammatical structure and just to give the flow more of what I'm feeling. Plot wise there's no major updates but since I'm posting this as I go this time, I felt the need to go back and update just some pieces. Chapter 3 is nearly completed and should be posted very soon!!

Thank you all for reading~

I used to think dreams were all I could have. 

 

That the fantasies swirling inside my mind -creating tales and spinning adventures- were to forever stay tucked away, only to be daydreamed about when needing a break from reality. Reality was tedious and full of unforgiving distress. But in stories, well stories were different weren’t they? Stories were what happened to make things better than they turned out. They were told expressly to bring people together and enjoy the imagination. And those that were in them, real or acting, helped bring forth those visions, and live through them vicariously. Ah, to be taken away to such exotic places, and to be different from who you were born as, or what world you lived in, or the people you met. How exciting!

 

And writing wasn’t the best outlet for my skill set I had found; I wanted too much to be there- living in the moments where the heroine triumphs over the oppressing force that has been plaguing someone! Perhaps I lacked the patience for writing the words; maybe taking for granted the lines and tales created by others I got to portray on a stage to those around me. 

 

A chime pinged overhead. 

 

“Good evening ladies and gentlemen. The captain has begun our descent into Manchester-Boston Regional airport. At this time please return your seats...” the stewardess’ voice fades away as I turn the volume back up on my headphones. I glance out the window, nearly bumping my head as some turbulence has picked up with our descent into the early winter weather of New Hampshire. 

 

Going to be foggy on the drive home, I mused to myself unable to see much out of the thick, gray oval.  Stretching my legs as much as can be accommodated in the confining space, I briefly glance around to make sure my belongings are all tucked up and ready to walk off the plane as soon as we’re given the all clear to disembark. 

 

I hadn’t been home in quite some time. My manager usually had me taking acting jobs that were strewn all across the country, which suited my adventurous soul just fine, really. But, I kept this little cottage here in the countryside of New Hampshire essentially as a home base. I admittedly, rarely made it home more than a handful of times a year. It was close enough to spend time with family on occasion, but secluded enough to offer me the peace I wanted away from the cities I spent so much time in. 

 

Finally, after exiting and making my way to baggage claim, rounding up my solitary piece, and ensuring I hadn’t left anything thus far, I headed out into the cold weather to search for my Lyft. Once settled for the next hour leg of the journey, I pulled out my phone and rang my manager. 

 

I’m sorry but the person you’re trying to reach is not available. Please leave your message after the tone.

 

I huffed and noticed I had a new message. 

 

Dinner meeting. Can’t answer.

 

Shifting in the seat, I texted out a quick message about landing fine and was on my way home now. 

 

Moments later my face illuminated in the dark from a response. 

 

Glad to hear it Sarah! Enjoy your winter break,as it were. Rest up so we can look forward to more projects in a couple months. 

 

***************************

 

Briefly checking through my messages, I was dimly aware we were passing through the center of town. 

 

Must’ve been looking at messages longer than I realized, I thought to myself. 

 

The quaint new england area was decorated with cliche antique stores that barely thrived throughout the seasons, but were fun to visit nonetheless. Snow had begun falling as the drive continued, tucking in the now-vacant parking lots of the shops and markets I remember being full of bustling patrons in the summer. The white church that sat at the center of town, next to the rotund town hall in fact, stood bright with the blanket of white beginning to surround it and the grounds nearby. 

 

I craned my neck as we drove past its faded wood doors, decorated with intricate iron filigree. Above the entrance was a stained glass piece (rumored to be older than the town and had supposedly been brought over with the pilgrims or something), and though it was too dark now to see the colors correctly, I knew the stained image by heart. 

 

The top of the window was full of arching flowers, all golden and orange hued, reminiscent of harvest times. At its bottom were twists and twirls of greens, and reds, dark browns for roots, and spritzes of white blossoms in between the foliage. In the center stood tall the sturdy tree of life, with its leaves billowing out in a great canopy the whole width of the frame. Just behind it, one could see the rolling hills leading to somewhere, with open skies, warm and inviting to those who are seeking something else, something more. 

 

I smiled behind my closed eyes as I traced over the lines in my memory, knowing for certain if I could simply pop into such a picture, I could find the kingdom that was nestled just behind the hills.  

 

It was easy to appreciate the solitude that small towns provided from the rest of the world. Those who are needing a break find towns like this are rarely affected by political issues, or barely involve themselves in the news for that matter. It made it easy for day-to-day concerns to take priority and just focus on self for a bit. Rest and recharge. 

 

The car made a right turn down a more rustic road as we pulled away from town; the quiet lights fading into the black night.

 

I hardly noticed the bumps as we soon came upon a familiar brick cottage set back into a nearly fairy-tale surrounding of trees and quaint garden. Lights were turned on inside, and there was a light curl of smoke floating out of the chimney. 

 

Toby must be here already. 

 

 He’s the only one I’d left a key with when I’d travelled, which albeit was semi-frequently. 

 

I need to thank him for keeping the garden alive and thriving . 

 

The sedan came to a stop at the bottom of the walk as I sighed with a smile. Green, gentle ivy was making its way up part of the wall, but was clearly tended to well as it hadn’t gone out of control. The hedges stood-tall and protecting- along the front perimeter of the fence, leaving space only where the iron gate stood for entry. 

 

Thanking my driver, I hoisted myself and my bags out, stepping carefully in case the ground was more frozen than I anticipated. As the Lyft rounded its way out of the drive, I pushed open the gate and headed for the door. As I reached for the knob, the door swung open in front of me, the warmth of the house greeting my face suddenly.

 

“Sarah!!” Toby exclaimed, jumping forward and wrapping his arms around my waist, nearly knocking me over in the process. 

 

“Hello Tobes, it’s great to see you,” I said hugging him tightly back as my purse slid down my arm a bit from the impact. He stepped back, moving to grab my only suitcase. 

 

“It’s great to have you back Sarah, you were gone for such a long time this time...I really missed you,” he said, equal parts happy to see me and sad. 

 

“I’m sorry Tobes. This season was just a busy traveling year. I wish I could have had you along for company,” I answered, running a hand through his blonde hair that was falling in front of his eyes now. My goodness he was growing up quickly.

 

Setting everything inside the room, I glanced happily about the softly lit cottage. The door opened straight into the kitchen, with the sink facing the front window overlooking the garden. On the far wall stood what has become Toby’s pride and joy, a traditional red colored AGA cooker. He’d insisted I get one as soon as I had purchased this home, explaining how many tasks it could fulfill and would absolutely do more than just “cook things” as I had believed. Toby got his wish though, without much argument on my end. It did add a lot of character to my cottage. My father had built the tall walnut-stained island that housed quite a few kitchen essentials, and off to the side was the pantry door, open with a few bags nearby. Toby must have been stocking some items before I had arrived. 

 

“You grabbed groceries for me Tobe? How thoughtful of you!” I said pulling him in for another tight bear hug. 

 

“Yeah, dad had mentioned probably everything in here was nearly bad so I should grab a few things. Receipts on the counter,” he nodded. I ruffled his hair again gently, noting how much taller he’d already gotten in the five (or was it six?) months that I hadn’t seen him for. 

 

“Yeah he’s probably right,” I nodded at him, moving to take my suitcase up the stairs to the master bedroom that occupied the space above. It had taken me some time to find and remodel this place, and while it wasn’t...quite the home feeling I craved for, it was my favorite little getaway resort when I wasn’t working. The bright wood and windows let the natural light in easily enough to not feel cramped in like some wood-interior cabins. I hadn’t mentioned to the designer who helped me I’d based many of my ideas off of hobbit homes. Perhaps he had guessed that though. 

 

Toby stayed behind in the kitchen. 

 

“When you finish unpacking, come down and eat! I’ve been working on something new! Or, well...new to me anyway,” his voice floated up the stairs with me, echoing with pride. Toby had become quite the little chef in the past years; it made it fun to come home and try whatever new recipe he was attempting to recreate or invent on his own. 

 

“Sure thing Tobes, be just a few minutes!” I called back and walked the little carpeted hallway the all of 5 steps into the master bedroom. The open room had sloping ceilings, with the large comfortable bed balanced beneath the far window that faced the eastern skies so as to catch the morning rays without being blinded directly by them in my sleep. 

 

I hauled my suitcase to the foot of my bed, setting my purse down on top, and padded to the connected en suite back towards the stairs. It had another door leading to the hallway, but I relished in the copper clawfoot tub my father and I had managed to fit within. My spa within my spa. I sighed happily taking in all the loveliness that comes with re-admiring a home after one has been away for such a time.

 

After refreshing myself from my travels, I popped back downstairs. The smells were heavenly. Toby was over poking the fire, adding a few more pieces to keep the cooker rolling, warming the entire house for the night. 

 

“Toby, you’re going to make quite the homemaker someday,” I mused with a smile. He turned and made a face. 

 

“Yeah, only because you’re going to suck at being one,” he laughed and walked back over to the kitchen when the oven timer had begun to go off. 

 

I feigned offense, but really felt my mouth watering as Toby pulled out something gloriously smelling from the oven and set it onto the counter. A couple other dishes had coverings on them and were also sitting on the island, keeping warm and ready to be eaten. 

 

“Did you cook for an army Toby? Geez,” I rustled around to find some utensils as he pulled back the coverings on the dishes. Ham, veggies, some rolls, Ah to have homemade cooking for a bit instead of take out or room service (which while tasty just isn’t the same). 

 

“You eat like an army,” he said with the most serious face I could imagine him making, carefully angling his final piece onto the island with the rest of the food as well. My mouth hung open, mildly gobsmacked. 

 

Toby laughed again.

 

“Oh my gosh Sarah, I’m kidding. Besides it never seems to stick on you anyway.” I huffed. I had to work out regularly to stay the size my manager dictated was best for my career. But, Toby wasn’t entirely wrong that I could also get away with a lot of munchies too. 

 

“Not gonna have to take pics of what you’re eating so James can mentally adjust your workout are you?” he prodded, not a particular fan of my manager’s, at times, peculiar behaviors. 

 

I made a face back at him this time. 

 

“No, as a matter of fact, I am on vacation, and have been deemed to do as I see fit to rest and recharge. Means no check-ins with nanny James,” I smirked as I began loading my plate with the foods. 

 

Toby smiled and explained how this was his attempt at ratatouille since the neighbor kid he had been babysitting was obsessed with the film and it had been on his mind a bunch. Chatting between us through dinner, we caught up on what Toby had been doing at school, odd jobs, recipes he’d tried, some interesting town gossip, while I in turn filled Toby in on all my travels and the people I had met along the way at each city I had performed in. 

 

Bellies warm and content, Toby mentioned something about dessert and made his way over to the freezer. 

 

“Well, if you’re really on vacation, does that mean you’re gonna try and go out on a date or something? You always claim you never have the time, and now you have nothing BUT time,” he reflected as he dished up some of our favorite huckleberry ice cream, specially shipped all the way from Oregon.

 

I shrugged offhandedly, dipping my spoon into the smooth cream and savoring the way it’s bright tartness was complemented by the simple vanilla within it.

 

“I don’t know Tobes, I haven’t...really met anyone I want to go out with.”

 

Toby smirked.

 

“Probably because you're caught up with all those fantasies you had growing up. Dad says you used to be obsessed with fairy tales as a kid. Prince charming probably is out there and you’re too stubborn to find him,” Toby said with a wink.

 

I licked the quickly melting dessert of my spoon and narrowed my eyes. 

 

“Are you saying I’m lazy, stubborn, or too fanciful?”

 

Toby shrugged his sweater covered shoulders. 

 

“Probably all of them to a degree.”

 

They both fell silent for a moment, enjoying the little corner fireplace as it crackled, more for ambiance than central heating purposes.

 

“Dad says that’s why you won’t come back and stay home. Says you’re too stubborn,” Toby added after a few minutes. 

 

I frowned at that. 

 

“I don’t think it has to do with stubbornness so much as it has to do with just a differing of opinions. Karen was never very supportive of my career choices, success be damned. It just makes staying there complicated, and uneasy when it only brings strife over things that aren’t going to change,” I tried to explain. 

 

Toby simply nodded in agreement. 

 

“I know Sarah, just letting YOU know what the word at home is currently.”

 

I smiled over at Toby, nudging him with a shoulder.

 

“When did you get to be so mature for your age? You’re like a newborn teenager right?” 

 

Toby shrugged again. 

 

“Picked up a lot of things more quickly than kids my age I guess. Besides, you’d suck as a homemaker, remember?” He chuckled, licking the last pieces of ice cream out of his dish.  

 

“I don’t know, maybe a goblin taught me?” he said offhandedly, taking their empty bowls back to the kitchen. 

 

My brow furrowed, confused. Goblins? 

 

“Where did that come from?” I quirked an eyebrow at his response.  

 

Before turning and answering, he finished rinsing the dishes and turned off the sink, 

 

“Dream I think? Probably reading too many books and imagination ran away with itself.” He didn’t offer anything more, shuffling about to put away the leftovers. 

 

Helping him absently, I felt the stirring of a memory, or a dream? 

Hazy. 

The images are blurry and hard to conjure, slipping away as easy as smoke through fingertips. But there’s a tune, notes that don’t complete a whole line, like trying to recall that song you enjoyed but you’d only heard it once on the radio. 

Something familiar, something...warm to think of. 

 

I shook my head, brushing off the thoughts. 

 

“Are you staying here tonight or do I need to take you back?” I asked, handing him the dishes for the fridge. 

 

“I’d like to stay if I could. It’s nice spending time with you. Besides, I already dropped my stuff in the guest room,” he answered cheerfully.

 

“Great, already tell dad? Or do I need to call him?”

 

“Uhhh…,” Toby’s voice trailed off. 

 

“Right. I’ll call him then while you finish this up,” I started heading up the stairs again, and caught notice of the mail Toby had collected on the desk by the entrance. There was a large, scripted piece sitting on top that had caught my eye. 

 

Intrigued, but more concerned with letting my dad know where Toby would be staying, I headed upstairs to my purse to grab my phone. 

 

************************************

 

The phone call squared away, and Dad of course having no qualms with Toby staying, we each started on our night time routines.

 

 Dishwasher started, fire controlled in the hearth, and Toby tucked away in bed, I finally made my way back up the stairs to soak in my marvelous tub before passing out myself after such a long day of traveling. 

 

Ah, the mail , I thought as I started to pass by it again. I reached my hand through the rail and pulled the stash with me, needing both hands to grasp it all. I dropped most of the pieces unceremoniously on the bed while I quickly went to turn on the tub and pour some of my favorite bubbles and oils into the steaming water as it filled.. 

 

The stack was pretty well sorted for the most part, junk at the bottom that could be tossed immediately, and actual matters to review on top. Some were invitations to upcoming events nearby, dinners and openings of galas and such. It wasn’t uncommon for me to receive them, but I was pretty selective about where I went, and most times I was working and had to appear for job purposes. 

 

 A few pieces were hand dropped, it seemed, by locals, old friends who just wanted to share the news, actual mailing and postage be damned. The blip of nostalgia made me smirk.

 

Regardless, they were fun to catch up on. I took those and the stiff, fanciful one to the bathroom with me. I turned off the tub and set the two unopened letters left on my shelf attached. 

 

The water was heavenly, and smelled delightful. My muscles happily rejoiced in the heat, the tension and stress of the day's activities melting away. Curious about such a scripted envelope, I reached for the letter. It contained a stiff, semi-scented invitation with what looked to be hand-lettered calligraphy actually written into the paper, rather than printed on with ink as most are opt to do these days. Intrigued I sat up a bit straighter in the water, reading it carefully. 

 

It read:

You’re Invited

Dear Miss Sarah Williams, 

 

You honorable presence is hereby requested to attend the 

GOBLIN KING’S MASQUERADE

On the 29th of December, at the Balmoral Castle in Aberdeenshire, Scotland 

For an evening of costume, dinner, festivities, and more. 

Please contact Hogarth at the number below to RSVP. 

Airfare and accommodations are provided. 

I paused, rereading the invite a couple times to be certain. 

 

To Scotland? To a masquerade ball nonetheless? What more could I ask for?? 

 

Humming happily to myself, already lost in the daydreams of my future travels, I set the invitation off to the side, safe from the water. 

 

What could be more relaxing than a full paid vacation to dress in costumes that I adore and mingle with strangers? Especially when the thought of staying here with the same people and the routine conversations sure to be had if I remained.

 

Toby might be a bit disappointed, but at least there was plenty of time until the date of the ball to spend with him. I was giddy as a school girl!

 

I was going to go to The Goblin King’s Masquerade.

Chapter 3: Chapter 2

Summary:

Sarah arrives in Scotland and gets to meet some new faces.

Notes:

Hi everyone!
I'm backfinally~
I don't have a lot of confidence in my work and so I tend to feel shy/anxious about writing and I get down on myself so much I start to lose the joy in writing it. So I struggled for a long while (that and I changed jobs, and got a second job, and ya know 2020 happened in general)
But! I'm really beginning to feel more empowered by my writing and I hope you'll forgive me for taking nearly a year to update this fic (because believe it or not the whole thing IS planned out and detailed and I just need to write and connect the scenes cohesively).
I hope you all enjoy it! Don't forget to leave a comment!!
---------------------

After a somewhat unruly flight, some semi-tasty in-flight food, a slight baggage mishap, and patiently going through customs, I finally exited the airport and breathed a lungful of the damp, chilled morning air. It felt good, relieving and energizing to be somewhere new. 

 

 A man in uniform, presumably a driver,  stood at the entrance with my name scrawled on a small white board. I rolled my bag across the way to him and stopped. 

 

“I’m Sarah Williams,” I greeted with a smile, readjusting my belongings to extend my hand. 

 

“Ah! Miss Williams!” the young man answered, shaking my hand with exuberance not often encountered in first-time meetings. 

 

“My name’s Calum, and I’ll be your personal driver for the duration of your stay,” he said, his hand falling back to his chest with a short bend that had the intention of a bow.

 

“If you’ll allow me,” Calum said, tossing a smile as he gracefully took hold of my luggage handle with one hand, and opened the back door with the other. His pleasant voice complemented the freckles decorating his face, partially obstructed by the red bangs flopping into his face. 

 

Calum lifted the fairly heavy suitcase with surprising ease into the trunk while I trailed behind, taking in the scenery now before me.

 

“Ah, thank you Calum! It’s my first time in Scotland so I’m a bit taken with the beauty of it in person,” I explained quickly and slid, half as gracefully, into the car as Calum shut the door behind me. 

 

The interior was far more luxurious than I had anticipated. The seats were the type which I’d only ever sat on before when a producer and I were entering a party together, or some such occasion, and definitely not those I usually sat on every day.

 

“Never been to Scotland before? Well then! Let me take you the scenic route especially so you can see more of it! But I would bet,” Calum half turned to look at me in the back, “this’ll be the visit of your lifetime.”

 

Before I had time to think about that further, his bright smile was back in place and he immediately turned back around to drive us out of the airport. 

 

“Do you work for Mr. Hogarth?” I asked, rubbing my hands together to ease the December chill as the journey began towards Balmoral Castle. 

 

“Mr. Hogarth is the castle caretaker ma’am. I suppose you could call him my boss of sorts,” he paused and scratched at his stubbly chin.  “More like, Hogarth delivers out the jobs for the day as requested by Mr. J-- er, Jacks I mean.” Calum remarked, steering us further on through the country roads. He didn’t offer any more information than that. 

 

I felt a slight sense of sudden unease, the same I’d felt even since I agreed to the invitation. This holiday was to be my break from the demands of my work, and the invitation to spend a fully-comped vacation dressing up in fancy gowns, in large old castles, while getting to interact with new people was the most perfectly convenient way to do so. Although my step-mother didn’t agree. Neither of my parents had when I had told them I was leaving so quickly after Christmas. 

 

 I couldn’t find a source for my unease and brushed it off as apprehensive nerves. Certainly, heading off to a country I’d never been to before, to meet people I hadn’t met before, to attend a party I’d never heard of before was enough to put anyone off. I’d hoped the conversation and learning more about the area and the event would assuage some of those concerns that had built up. But, as ever, I was more curious than hesitant, and I wouldn’t have turned down this invitation without a larger excuse than “I don’t know anyone.”

 

 I opened my phone to check if Toby had replied to the messages I’d sent after the plane landed.

 

Glad to hear you made it safe. What’s it like so far?? Count how many kilts you’ve seen? - T

 

I rolled my eyes with a smile and typed back. 

 

Really Toby? Your biggest concern is how many kilts I’ve seen since I landed? - S

 

Lol, more like concerned your self-titled “adventurous” side would want to check if they’re legit. - T

 

You’re terrible. >:P - S

 

Ahahaha, but on a serious note how is it? Have you made it to this “castle” you’re staying at? - T

 

Oh, I hadn’t remembered to ask. 

 

“Calum,” I said.

 

“Yes Miss Sarah?” 

 

“How long is it until we’ve arrived?” 

 

“Ah, well, since I was taking the more scenic venture for you, it’ll probably be another hour or so given how long we’ve already been going,” he answered, then glanced up very concerned. 

 

“Oh dear Miss Sarah! You don’t have to use the toilet do you?! I can find us a stop if you need to!” Calum said suddenly, a bit flustered with himself. “I was so excited to be bringing you back, I completely forgot to even ask if you were ready to proceed!” he blathered on a bit before I could get his attention.

 

“No! No, I’m really okay Calum! I was just curious that’s all. Didn’t know what to expect I suppose.”

 

Calum seemed to settle with that answer. 

 

Got some time until I get there it seems. The view is 100% worth the drive regardless though. I can’t wait for all the old architecture I’m going to see here! - S

 

Cool. Take pics!! D:< You’re terrible at it and I’m already jealous enough you went without me. I’m going to finish making lunch here and take it over to dad at work. Text me when you’re at this castle!! - T

 

Smirking, I put my phone away and made myself comfortable against the window. 

 

The countryside sprawled as we drove; rolling hills full of nothing but dark green patches amongst the blanket of snow as far as the eyes could see, each shade and hue of it on the spectrum dotting the landscape in a mere glance out the window. It was the type of place I’d wanted to run away to when I was younger. The land that passed was exactly as I saw in mind’s eye as a child, wanting nothing more than to put on my costumes, and run away into the forest with the faeries. 

 

My head throbbed. 

 

Faeries? 

 

It bit me!

 

Well what did you think they do?

 

I thought faeries did nice things! Like……..wishes--

 

It was like waking up foggy, and grasping at the tendrils of a dream that’s slipping away with each passing, awoken heartbeat. 

 

But it was there. Something. Something I felt a driving urge to remember. 

 

Ello.

 

My head throbbed again, stronger, insistent and...painful. 

 

Come inside and meet the missus!

 

I rubbed at my temples, the pressure annoyingly increasing until Calum’s voice broke through, abruptly banishing the haze.

 

“Here we are then, Miss Sarah. Hope you enjoyed the drive,” he chuckled, more to himself, “probably be the only peace you get in the next couple of days.”

 

The sun was barely peeking in the afternoon sky as we pulled up to a drive off the main road.  

 

Calum turned the car and we passed through massive spiraling black gates, the type that looked heavy enough to stop a dump truck if they were locked shut. Their close wrought bars gave off the impression that no one was coming or going if they didn’t expressly allow it.

 

 I turned to face forward as we descended the long drive towards the stone fortress.

 

“Welcome to Balmoral Castle! Everything should be set up in your suite, once we arrive….” Calum’s voice faded into the background of my mind as I gazed at the immense size of the structure. 

 

The long, narrow windows patterned efficiently on the outside of the building, while the perfectly coned spires dotted the rooftop’s silhouette. Set in a picture perfect wintery fairy tale setting, the gardens leading up to the hundreds of years old construction were as elegant and detailed as the Queen’s dress probably was when she’d first arrived at her new home, once upon a time. 

 

Each stone or statue had probably been repaired and replaced as time wore on, but the atmosphere was still ripe with age, and the castle certainly embodied the appropriate use of the phrase “50 shades of gray”. Green bushes, softly outlined with the fresh snowfall, were pointedly placed along the walls and partnered cordially with the ivy that had claimed possession of some of the surrounding walls. 

 

Calum came to a stop in front of the rounded, heavy-looking, wood door and cut the engine. Before I had a chance to say anything, my mind racing as I realized I was really here, he was already around the car and opening my door for me. 

 

“Thank you Calum, I really appreciate the ride and the countryside tour,” I said, stepping out carefully onto the snow with the few personal belongings I had on me.

 

“My pleasure Miss Sarah, always my pleasure,” he answered, flashing a charming grin my way again. 

 

The graveled parking area was full of other cars, and the castle sounded bustling with life as we neared the entrance. I wondered how many other guests were here for the curious ball. Were we all strangers? Had we all been invited on a whim? Did the others know the host? More mysteries to solve as I go, perhaps.

 

I smiled as we entered and took in the grandiose fixtures and sights of the entryway. High sculpted ceilings, the dark wood of the doors and stairs contrasting with the lightness of the stone, and the bright tiled floor caught my eyes.. Having limited movie experience, my manager having kept my focus on the stage during my career, I hadn’t yet had the chance to be on set in an actual time period-like place as old and ornate as this. 

 

I took a deep breath and felt a tingle rush down my arms, as if the ghosts of a millenia were haunting the air surrounding me. It was exciting. 

 

Two figures, ladies as it were, were standing in the entryway, dressed in plain clothes similar to those that servants usually wore on the period tv shows I watched. 

 

Talk about stepping back in time. I guess Jacks goes all in, I thought, feeling my pocket as it vibrated with an incoming message. I was unable to check it just then.

 

“Evening, Agnes!” Calum tipped his head to the older appearing of the two women. 

 

Agnes moved not an inch, her deep set eyes and long face unimpressed with the excited red-head. 

 

“You’re late, Calum,” her surprisingly dulcet voice responded, flicking her eyes to him.. 

 

“Ah, well. Miss Sarah Williams here has never been to Scotland before. And, as I was entrusted with her care as she needs to move about, I deemed it was my duty to ensure I could show her as much as possible during her stay,” Calum explained, walking past the two ladies and heading deeper into the castle, continuing to carrying my luggage without so much as a backward glance.

 

I stayed behind, Agnes blocking the way and her expression thoroughly unamused. Her posture stood tall and possessed the confidence of someone who knew how to run a complicated household, followed by a face that did NOT appreciate a demolished timetable. 

 

She whirled around to me, probably too quickly for someone of her apparent age, but there was no falter. 

 

“Miss Williams, I presume?”

 

I nodded.

 

She nodded in response and extended her hand towards the other woman standing next to her. 

 

“Miss Williams, this is Drew, she’ll be your ladies’ maid while you’re staying with us. She’ll show you to your room and assist you with any needs or requests you have. If you have any questions or concerns bring them to Drew.” 

 

Her foot was already turning as she uttered the last word, and before I could blink the stiff goose-like woman shuffled back inside and was already moving on to other affairs. 

 

Well that was….interesting.

 

A laugh came from the ladies’ maid I had just been so deftly introduced to.

 

“Don’t mind Agnes, lassie. She’s just worked up with everything Jacks has asked us to do in order to have the ball right and ready,” Drew said with a heavy brogue accent. Her wavy brown hair was pulled back into a handy fishtail braid, the slight fringe framing her face not long enough to secure itself back with the other hairs. 

 

I smiled and extended my hand to shake it in greeting, to which Drew met happily. 

 

“Let’s go on and get you to your rooms then shall we? You’ve been traveling long enough, I’m sure you’re right ready for a warm bath and some food. Certainly a cold night to be coming in too,” she said, her bright red lipstick offsetting the plain clothing she was dressed in. 

 

“That would be fantastic, yes please,” I answered, trying not to become distracted by the ornate decor we passed. Tapestries decorated the walls, vases sat placidly on end tables; minimalism was not to be found in an abode such as this.

 

After ascending a few flights of stairs, and heading through a seemingly endless maze of turns, Drew stopped outside a fanciful door that was intricately detailed with carvings of what seemed like fairy tale creatures, stories etched into the wood. 

 

“This will be your suite as long as you’re staying with us,” she said, opening a door at the end of a hallway, marked on its front with an infinity symbol. 

 

“Calum’s already brought your bags in,” Drew added, moving to the fireplace in the corner and turning it up higher before moving about again.

 

I walked through and felt a breath of awe leave me at the beauty of its design. The first room was spacious, with high ceilings and a curved wall of windows letting in the now rapidly fading evening light. It was decorated in forest greens and earth tones, plush cushioned chairs seated around an intricately made table, and large, thick rugs adorning the hard floors, absorbing some of the sound that often accompanied such open places. Up against the far wall sat a king-sized, four-poster bed made up with sheets that had a thread count I was certain I couldn’t afford. The bed’s dark curtains were tied to each post, adding more to the fantasy feeling the room was already imbued with.

 

I ran my fingers over the fabrics, shivering at the soft velvet textures as I made my way further into the room. Drew had already gone ahead and opened the door connected to the room, just beyond the bed. 

 

“Since you’re the invited guest of honor and all, you’ve got the largest suite in the castle at your personal disposal. Back here is the ensuite for you Miss Sarah, and,” she came back into the main room, the sound of running water following her, “as soon as you’ve had your fill of the tub, I’ll be by to escort  you downstairs to dinner. Tonight you’ll dine with the few guests who have already arrived and are staying on the grounds.”

 

“Thank you, Drew! I’ve gotta say, I’m a bit shocked to be experiencing something like this. Not something I could have afforded on my own at least,” I said with a shrug. 

 

Drew nodded. 

 

“Jacks is a generous person for the most part. He wanted to make sure you have everything you could possibly think of during your stay here. So if you need anything Miss Sarah, you just give Drew here a holler alright?” She finished with a wink and left the room at that, leaving me to my own devices. 

 

Finally alone and not at risk of offending anyone,, I fished my phone out of my coat pocket to read the message I’d received.

 

It’s been hours and I have received exactly 0 pictures. - T

 

Smirking, I opened the camera feature on my phone and snapped some shots of the lavish bedroom, as well as the view out of the window as best I could in the darkening light.

 

Tada, pics~ 

Tobes, I wish you could see this place! It’s a literal fairy tale come true! - S

 

I wandered back towards the ensuite where the tub was still finishing up filling. Just as exquisite as the bedroom, the bathroom was made of polished marble and could easily be considered fit for royalty. The aroma of spices and peaches emanated from the bathtub as it filled with foamy bubbles. 

 

This level of luxury in a vacation is going to spoil me . I dipped my hand into the enticingly hot water, the tub now nearly full. 

 

Ah well, might as well embrace it!

 

My phone vibrated again. 

 

Sure looks magnificent. :O Better be careful you don’t get swept away by a fae out there ;) - T

 

I could feel my thoughts start to tumble into a daydream of being spirited away by the faeries and I quickly typed out one last response before turning off the faucet. 

 

Wouldn’t that be an adventure? ;) - S

 

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

They’re there again. Whispers of memories, recollections of things that I feel like should be right here, real and tangible in my memory, but I as reach for them in the dark, they’re nothing more than wisps slipping easily through my fingers. Voices echoing into the dark nothingness between dreams, familiar and foreign at the same instant. Sounds my heart feels drawn to, but my mind is blank with recognition.

 

Music. 

 

There’s music from somewhere. I want to follow this music, where it’s leading to something that feels secret, inside of myself. 

 

The scent of peaches is everywhere all at once, perfuming the space of this dream.

 

I can’t make it further, something physical holding me back, but the dream shifts and everything fades to naught. 

I woke up as the morning light streamed in through the massive bay-style windows. The air was quiet, and the fire had been turned down in the night, just enough to keep the room heated in the wintery morning. If I concentrated, I could feel the energy in the air that said the castle was alive with movement elsewhere. Maybe castles never slept? 

 

Stretching wide, I answered as a knock rapped on the door. 

 

“Good morning, Miss Sarah!” Drew said with a near ungodly amount of pep for as early as it was in the day. In front of her stood a cart stacked with a few covered platters and topped with what looked to be the morning’s saving grace, coffee!

 

She pushed the trolley to the table and began uncovering and arranging platters. Stretching once more, I pulled the ridiculously comfortable blankets off and padded over to the delicious smelling food that was waiting for me.

 

“How’d you like your coffee, Miss?” 

 

“Cream and sugar, please. Thank you, Drew,” I answered, sitting down on the chair that must’ve been made from clouds, eagerly surveying the food she’d brought in. After last night’s dinner, my mouth was already watering at how delicious the spread was going to be. 

 

Drew set my coffee down and began moving about the room, tidying and straightening it with militant precision and the practiced ease of one who’d been performing the action for so long it was second-nature.

 

Picking up my fork, I found myself humming a tune as I hungrily dug into the waiting eggs and pieces of bacon. I glanced out the window as I tackled the succulent tomatoes and piled the beans onto the waiting toast. 

 

The grounds were still tucked into a blanket of snow, certainly not the weather I really wanted to go out walking in, but I  wasn’t going to let any opportunities pass me by this trip because of minor inconveniences like weather. 

 

Drew had mentioned I needed to see the tailor in town sometime soon, because Jacks had custom ordered a gown for me to wear to the ball itself, and they wanted to ensure the measurements were accurate to what I’d sent when I had initially confirmed my RSVP. Jacks was certainly cementing his reputation as a resplendent host. 

 

I hadn’t heard much about my mysterious host thus far. People were rather mysterious in how they talked about Jacks, and internet searches turned up little to nothing about his persona. I gathered from the small talk at dinner that he was theatrical, and wasn’t above embodying the words excess and fanciful. The other guests would say something about the man, and then nearly each of them would share a small smile, like they were holding a secret to themselves. I wondered what secrets I wasn’t privy to as a first-time guest of Jacks.

 

“Do you know the words to that song you're humming, Miss?” Drew asked suddenly as she passed by carrying the towels from yesterday to her cart. 

 

I paused, mid-chew. What song was I humming? No name or lyrics were coming to mind, but it felt familiar as the notes came along.

 

“To tell you the truth Drew, I’m not even sure where I’ve heard it before. Must’ve just been one of those tunes you hear once and it comes back every once in a great while just to taunt you,” I replied, washing down the buttery toast with the coffee that must’ve been ground with beans from a unicorn. Did everything here have to taste so incredible? What the hell made it so different?

 

 Drew said nothing in reply and let herself out with a smile to see to her other chores. 

 

Feeling more awake and like myself, I hopped into the ensuite to make use of the huge shower, with its raining shower head. I was spoiled indeed.

 

Not content to stay in my room and poke around on my laptop all day, even though the wifi was excellent (just because the ball was period didn’t mean we lived in the dark ages any more), I opted to get dressed and see about exploring the castle. Hopefully, I’d be able to stay out of others' way and get a peek at the castle’s stunning architecture. Having spent so much time on stages, and in just as many hotels while traveling to shows, admiring architecture had become a casual hobby of mine, and I was keen to see more of what I could about the grounds while I had the time to do so. The ball wasn’t for a couple of days, and aside from getting to see the local town,, this castle and its connected grounds had a history I couldn’t wait to investigate.

 

Presently changing into warm, but comfortable, clothing for adventuring into town, I wandered out of my room and down towards the main hall I’d first entered into yesterday. The floor I was staying on seemed to house most of the other guest rooms as well. I could hear people in their rooms as I passed, attendees also for the ball, Drew had mentioned last night. As I turned a corner leading to the downstairs,, I collided with a pair of ladies. 

 

“Oh!” I fumbled backwards into a conveniently placed chair. Startled, the words came pouring out.  “I’m terribly sorry about that, I didn’t hear--,” my voice cut as I looked at the person in front of me.

 

Her eyes were black as onyx, and she had horns. Tragic, twisting, black horns pierced out of her skull skyward, resembling the reaching branches of the decaying trees in winter. A pale, skeletal hand reached for me, talons ready to shred skin to ribbons with ease. My breath caught in my chest, my heart suddenly pulsing to freeze or flee from the creature before me.  

 

I blinked, and everything was gone.

 

“Are you alright, dear?” her voice carried like bells.

 

There was nothing menacing about her appearance. 

 

Her hair was like spun gold, carefully folded on top of her head, and her body was absolutely flawless. There was an ethereal beauty to her features I hadn’t seen before. She must have been a model of some sort, I figured. I chalked it up to expensive surgeries and wonderfully secret skin care routines the elite are privy to.

 

I nodded my head with a small laugh.

 

“Yes, I’m sorry about that,” I apologized, taking her offered hand to help me stand again. The lady simply nodded, her companion offering nothing to the exchange, and they continued on their way. Each movement she made as she walked by looked effortless, and she floated with an unnatural grace I didn’t possess and felt slightly envious of. 

 

Must be all the nuances of traveling stress and an overactive imagination  I mused, pondering the bizarre image I’d conjured. 

 

At the bottom of the grand staircase, the main hall was alight with persons of all manner rushing to and fro with decorations. Trays laden with gems and skulls, swaths of fabrics that glittered even in the low light, and large carpets were hauled on the shoulders of men out of the back of the house and into large trucks waiting outside. 

 

My brows furrowed. 

 

“Good morning, Miss Sarah!” a familiar jovial voice called from behind me. Calum was walking towards me, still smiling as though the world were at his leisure. 

 

“Morning Calum,” I gestured at the spectacle of items being hauled away in droves.  “Is the castle being robbed? Or did Hogarth just decide on an entirely different theme overnight?” 

 

Calum let out a slight chuckle and shook his head, motioning for me to follow him out the front doors and around the side of the castle where I could see the acreage spanning behind.

 

“There isn’t enough room to actually hold the ball here. In fact, there are more guests attending than those present here in Balmoral. Many of them are booked up at the hotels and inns nearby,” Calum explained. 

 

“The ball itself is in a manor adjacent to the property, but it’s set back in those woods in a clearing,” he pointed with an absent wave of his gloved hand. 

 

Curious, I moved to walk over and see the mansion in question, but was stopped by Calum’s hand on my arm, holding firm. 

 

“Come on now Miss Sarah, don’t you want the reveal to be a surprise?” he asked with a glint in his eye. 

 

“Oh you’re right. I’d rather take it all in at once and feel blow away,” I answered and turned with him back on the gravel towards the entrance. 

 

“Actually Calum, I was hoping you’d be free to take me into the town you mentioned nearby. I’d love to see some of the shops and any of the older buildings hiding around,” I asked. 

 

“Of course we can go into town! Give me just a few moments,” he nodded towards the side buildings, “and I’ll bring the car around front.”

 

With a happy smile stuck on my face, I nodded my thanks. 

We spent the morning popping in and out of the niche shops. I purchased a few souvenirs for my parents, and numerous things for Toby. The town had a nice, relaxed atmosphere. No one was hurrying to and fro, there were no meetings to conduct, or traffic that took hours to go a couple of miles in. It reminded me of home. 

 

Calum had meandered with me, a helpful guide in telling me the town's history, and unusual pieces of gossip too. With Callum dutifully carrying my few purchases, the two of us passed a quaint little cafe with warm, scrumptious smells wafting into the air.  As if on cue, my stomach rumbled loudly. 

 

Calum laughed goodheartedly. 

 

“Good grief, I’ve nearly dragged you through the entire town and it’s past lunch. Let me grab us something here, okay? Be just a few minutes!” he stated, running a hand through his bright red locks and already stepping into the somewhat busy store.

 

Not left with much of a choice, I surveyed my surroundings. Quaint little homes with stone fences dotted the area, and there was a pathway just across the way that led to a building tucked away in a thick circle of trees. 

 

I crossed the street over to the path, peering through branches to see a small, crumbling church sitting within. It was silent within the trees, not even the wind rustled the leaves closest to the building. The windows were missing from the frame, and only black cavities remained.

I stepped up touching the old stonework and admiring the craftsmanship of something that was built in a time without modern tools or math to assist. The stone was rough and damp beneath my exploring fingertips. 

 

A soft sound, a humming more like, was coming from the side of the church. I followed the sound to see a figure sitting on some steps. An elderly lady was humming a tune to herself, the lyrics I couldn’t quite make out and she placed some stones she was holding into a pattern onto the ground around her. 

 

Not wanting to disturb her peace I moved to head back when she called out to me. 

 

“Child, do ye know about the fae folk?” her voice came, dusty and rough like the stone I had just been touching. 

 

“Only a few myths and legends,” I answered, moving a little closer to inspect her pebble design.

 

“Be wary, child, wary of the fae folk. Many round’ ere’ lately, an s’gettin worse. Careful girl, be careful now, there’s too many, ye gonna end up like lil’ McKenzie did,” she said with a sort of moan and rubbed her hands together. 

 

“Milk curdled right from the cows it did, soured as ye drank it, no good, no good,” she said, shuddering with clear distress. 

 

“What happened to McKenzie?” I asked, equal parts wanting to know the tale and wanting to maybe put some distance between myself and the lady who didn’t seem to be altogether in this world.

 

“Lil McKenzie liked her dollies and her stories and to play in the garden,” her face pulled into a soft, sad smile.

 

“But no one ever told her about the fair folk. They like imagination. Clever children. They take them away to their kingdom on the other side of the veil. Time moves different there, and strange things abound. Wondrous things. And if you don’t know how to mind your words and your laws you’ll get stuck.”

 

She sniffled, shuffling more pebbles into nonsensical shapes before reaching into her pocket and motioning to hand something to me. In my palms she placed a  hair pin, decorated with a scene seemingly inspired by the Goblin Market. It was weighty in my hand, and smooth from having been held close for many years.

 

“Stuck like lil’ McKenzie was...stuck for so long, when she came back no one knew er’ anymore. And she din’ know em’ either.”

 

Unnerved, I turned to leave, when her hands reached out to mine, pulling hard and begging. 

 

“Don’ go to the fair folk child, let them be despite they promises to ye,” she was almost sobbing now. 

 

Clenching tightly to my arm, I pulled against the surprisingly strong woman. 

 

“Let go! You’re hurting me!” Her nails dug harder into my arm. 

 

“Listen to me child, look for it! They be near ye now!” she commanded, following me as I stumbled backwards on the uneven surface. 

 

“Fae be here, be here for ye!” she warned, but I felt as if she was cursing me instead. 

 

She pulled her hands back suddenly. The sudden shift in pressure caused me to topple backwards, but there was no ground for my feet to catch on, and I felt the freefall play out in slow motion. In a heartbeat she was running, fleeing quickly into the distance. And in another, my head collided with the solid ground. 

Chapter 4: Chapter 3

Summary:

What's to happen after a bump on the head like that? Sarah's memories might be seeping into the cracks of her subconscious. But she has other things to worry about for the ball. And who's the handsome stranger?

Notes:

I am so sorry this took so long to come about. I started writing ahead on chapters I had information for to help writer's block and eventually then have to loop back to writing in order so I can post chronologically. The good news is later chapters are already written now!

Please leave a comment and kudos if you enjoyed it!! I love hearing from you.

All the best to my beta Alaztyr, without whom a lot gibberish would end up posted.

The scent of peaches again. This time soft, hinting of spiced peaches under layers of old books and worn leather. Familiar, comforting, home.

 

I watch myself walking down a path with no turns. Endless, smooth walls surrounding me without a hope of climbing.

 

The area changes, all the impossible walls stretching and connecting overhead. 

 

I now find myself in a tunnel, running as fast as I can through the straight corridors, the sides are coming closer, shrinking in on me, but an end no closer than before. What am I looking for? It’s getting harder to breathe.

 

I blink and it's all gone. No tunnels. Just a dark nothingness. I can't even feel my heart beating. 

 

“Sarah”

 

Oh. The voice sounds familiar. It’s soft, like a feather brushing over the skin. There's a rumble at the end of my name, I feel both more at ease and excited by it. 

 

“You say that so often, I wonder what your basis for comparison is…” a bit reprimanding. The man’s baritone voice seems so far away, as if drifting through a dream. Have I done something? Am I looking for this person?

 

“Everything I’ve done, I’ve done for you.” There’s a longing in his tone, pulling on my heart strings. I want to find him. 

 

“I move the stars for no one.” I need to find him. It’s important.

 

"... You precious thing."

 

The dream shifts again before I can look for him.

 

I’m not running any more but wandering a forest, trees towering over me. Boughs so full that you can’t even glimpse the sky between the branches. It’s dark, but there are odd, glittering surfaces and plants that light up occasionally. Almost rhythmically. I want to reach out and touch them, but my legs keep striding forward, ever searching. The path is practically obscured in the faint light, but I can follow it if I’m careful.

 

There’s an echo of laughter, singing; the smell of campfire. I get the sense of light-hearted revelries that occurred here once. It’s nice, uplifting.

 

Another change.

 

I’m going nowhere now.

 

Endless stairs. 

 

Up the stairs, down another, a twisting staircase. Have I been this way before? Where do I go next? Endless stairs in no direction, but trying to find a goal from a maze that has no beginning, and no marker for the end. I still feel myself eager to find what’s missing. Where was the voice? Would they come back? Can I find them? I miss it...

 

“Turn back Sarah.”  Ah. There it is.

 

“Wake up Sarah!” ... No, this one’s different.

 

“Turn back, before it’s too late.” It whispers away into silence, and nothingness follows.

 

---

“Wake up now! Come on now Miss Sarah."

 

I felt the bumpy gravel beneath my hands before seeing it. My head throbbed in time with my pulse. Good to know blood was still traversing correctly then.

 

 I groaned and tried to sit up. 

 

“Easy now, can you open your eyes okay? Let me just take a peek eh?” Calum’s voice registered in my brain. 

 

A bit blurry, I blinked a few times before finally seeing his face come into focus. 

 

“How many fingers do I have up then?” He asked, brows furrowed.

 

“Three on the hand of the person who was just yelling at an unconscious person to wake up,” I answered and reached back to rub the aching bump on the side of my head. 

 

Calum chuckled but nodded acceptably, running his hand through his roughed-up red locks. 

 

“I think that’s enough excitement for one outing. Let’s get you back and have a doctor take a look since you blacked out there for a few minutes.” He eased me back up onto my feet. 

 

“I’m okay, really,” I explained, with a smile, careful to ignore the throb accompanying. “Just slipped on the stairs is all. Believe me, I bruise more easily than is fair. It’s probably nothing,” I shrugged, eager to stave off the concern. 

 

Calum led us back to where he'd left our belongings, when he’d apparently come round to find me lying in the courtyard.

 

“Nevertheless can’t be letting anything unfortunate happen to you, and I’m not a qualified doctor.” He kept his hand extended near me, clearly in case I were to fumble or sway. The concern was appreciated, if a bit unnecessary. 

 

Bless him though, the helpful man balanced all her bags of purchases (although there were only three), as well as the newly acquired food, whilst trying to keep myself steady in the crowd. 

 

The afternoon mob was vibrant in the square, vendors excitedly calling out about their items. As we walked past the last of the shops again though, the crowds less bustling on the quiet stones paths, I saw the sign for the tailor’s shop Drew had mentioned sitting across the way. 

 

“Calum, wait! Drew said I needed to stop by the tailor’s shop to finalize my fitting before the ball.”

 

Calum glanced down at me, probably about to argue about wanting me to see a doctor instead. 

 

“It was just a bit of a bump. Honest, I’ll be fine enough to pop in, check the sizing, and I can meet you back at the car right over there,” I pointed to where I remembered the car was parked. 

 

“I think you should see a doctor and worry about your dress fitting tomorrow,” he said and attempted to nudge me along towards the vehicle. 

 

 I side stepped him and turned back towards the quaint white building with some sort of vine crawling across the top. 

 

"Just give like 30 minutes. It didn't seem busy at the moment and if they can do it now, it's one less thing I'll have to worry about tomorrow," I said, trying to sound perfectly reasonable for someone who had just blacked out.

 

Calum shifted his weight before exhaling with a nod. 

 

“Alright Sarah, but if you’re not back in half an hour, I’m coming to get you.” 

 

I nodded in agreement and after checking both ways, skipped over to the entrance where a little bell jingled upon my entry. 

 

An older gentleman, with tiny spectacles resting on the tip of his nose, raised an eyebrow before asking, “What may I assist you with today Miss?” His voice felt as narrow as the frame that held him upright. Goosebumps speckled over my arms. 

 

“Good afternoon, I was told I needed to come by to finalize the sizing on a gown? I’m supposed to wear it for the ball happening over at Balmoral Castle. Would there be time now for me to do so?” I inquired politely, taking in the design and mirrors lined throughout the shop. 

 

The man pursed his lips, and eyed me up and down. Was I in the wrong shop maybe? Should I have made an appointment? 

 

“I see. And do you have a name, Miss?” He asked, sounding amused as he pulled out a book, a tome -almost a grimoire- filled with lines of names.

 

“Name?” he asked again, eyes flickering to me expectantly when I didn’t answer fast enough.

 

“Williams.” Then, catching myself, added “Sarah Williams.”

 

The shopkeeper’s face stretched into a wide, tight smile. I swallowed. 

 

“Ah yes, Miss...Williams,” he lingered on her last name, the final s taking on more of a hissing sound. It gave an unpleasant tingle down my neck, but I held down the grimace and smiled.  

 

“If you’ll follow me right this way, I’ll have your dress brought in for your fitting immediately,” he gestured. 

 

Dark wood shelves stuffed to the point of overflowing with swaths of, what I could only imagine were, expensive fabrics. Designs the likes I had never seen before were sitting upon the mannequins, set to entice perhaps a specific kind of clientele? While I had been invited to numerous after parties and events, fashion had never been my strongest forte, and I relied heavily upon my manager’s opinions and personal stylist’s decisions to dress me for such events. Despite the confidence I was (hopefully) conveying, it felt as though I’d been pushed into the deep end of the pool as a kid without floaties for the first time.

 

 As we rounded a corner to them, where a raised platform was surrounded by mirrors so best to see the outfit from all perspectives, another man was seated already. 

 

“If you’ll wait here, I’ll have the gown brought out for you and you can change in that stall,” the older man then motioned to one of the changing rooms. He disappeared behind a curtain without another word. 

 

The seated man’s eyes flicked over to me, as he took a drink from an amber liquid in his glass. 

I looked away and said nothing, but the man’s gaze was intense and unwavering. 

 

“You must be here for the Goblin Ball, yes?” he called at me, before I could remark about his staring.

 

I took a breath first, steeling against whatever harassment the pretty boy might deem me worthy of.

 

“That’s right,” I answered and glanced him over. The man was well dressed, albeit haphazardly, as though he couldn’t really be bothered with whatever he managed to through on that day. He had a mane of golden hair -just as disheveled as his clothing- that he was running his hand though.  His eyes were one of the palest shades of blue I’d ever witnessed. Eyes that see perhaps more than they should. He casually reclined against one hand and tipped his glass towards me with a dashing smile. 

 

“And who might you be to warrant such a prestigious invitation?” 

 

I bristled at first, suddenly desiring to wipe the pretentious smirk off his pale face with a sharp retort. But, as I paused, I found myself unable to find an answer. I drew myself up and took a deep breath. 

 

“My name is Sarah Williams, and I am merely a guest for the party. And to be honest, I don’t know why I was invited. I’d never heard of the event before, and I’m not sure I know a single person who will be there. But,” I tilted my head at him, returning his previous stare, “I’m certainly not going to turn down the chance to experience it over something as trivial as that.”

 

The stranger ran his finger over his lips, as though pondering something.

 

“What a pleasure then, my dear,” he said with a flourish of his hand, “to have the honor of your visit to us for such an occasion.” 

 

“Actually, this is my first time being invited to a ball before. I’m not really sure what to expect. It’s all decidedly new to me,” I answered, raising an eyebrow at the endearment from a stranger. 

 

He responded with a smirk and waved his hand as an invitation to sit down. Noting that the tailor had yet to return, I decided to oblige. 

 

“Are you waiting for your date to try on their gown?” I asked as I sat, curious about the lackadaisical manner in which he was lounging here. 

 

“Not at this exact moment, I’m not.” he answered with a smirk. “Rather than finding yourself all alone in the bright spotlight, my dear, what about a ball might I help you know beforehand?”

 

Confused, but choosing not to pry, I began asking the stranger more about the coming event.

 

He proceeded to describe balls in intricate detail. His silvery voice explained everything from the process of arriving and introductions, to the food and dancing and types of persons most often invited to balls such as this. What constituted appropriate behavior, and what faux pas were to be avoided at all costs.

 

Engaged in his descriptions, it wasn’t until a rather loud clearing of the throat distracted me to see the tailor standing nearby with a garment bag in his arms. 

 

“Oh, thank you,” I said standing, “excuse me, I think it’s my turn now. Thank you for all the helpful information though Mr.?” 

 

He didn’t respond, instead taking another sip of the amber liquid before waving me away and moving towards the end table where the filled decanters sat. “The dress is waiting, Miss Williams.”

 

I felt my nose twitch in irritation at the blatant deflection, but continued into the changing room, focusing instead on the gown that had been commissioned for me.

 

The dress was strapless, but hugged snugly on the chest, before drifting down into an open skirt  that barely skimmed the ground as I walked. It started a dark, almost midnight blue at the top cascading down into a mist then into a white shimmer at the ends. Adorning the dress were gold leafs and a variety of filigree designs, covering it from top to bottom. 

 

Its skirts felt light, as though I were wearing nothing more than a cloud. I stepped out into the main fitting room again, and thankfully had no difficulty stepping onto the small rounded platform. The gown was easily the prettiest item I had ever had the pleasure of wearing. As I looked at different angles in the multiple mirrors, I could see the stranger, seated once more. His striking ice blue eyes caught mine in the glass, watching me with interest. Resembling a cat stretching itself away from a long nap, the man shifted his long limbs, one leg over the other, facing me more directly. 

 

“Turn please,” the tailor instructed, as he pushed his spectacles higher up his nose. I gave a small spin, watching as the dress practically transformed to a hazy mist, the skirt shimmering with all the gold inlays. 

 

To my detriment, however. As soon as my head felt the rush of the small circle, I was overcome with a dizzy spell, followed promptly by falling off the platform.

 

The impact never came though. 

 

Two distinctly strong arms had caught me from behind and helped right my still somewhat spinning brain. 

 

“Well, my dear, you’re certainly  going to be a gem to dance with under the lights,” the golden-haired man chuckled, his grip steadied and helped ground me for a moment.

 

“I, ah, I fell earlier. Must have hit my head harder than I thought,” I explained. He frowned at that.

 

“Thank you, Mr.?” I prodded again, but was left without a response. Fine. No-name it was. Abruptly, No-name lifted his gloved hand to my temple, seemingly moving my head this way and that as if observing it for himself. I raised an eyebrow.

 

He gave a half smile, clearly pleased with whatever he’d found. 

 

“I think you’ll be right as rain in a bit, nothing dangerous now,” he finished. 

 

I glowered at his assessment. 

 

“Are you a doctor?” 

 

No-name raised an eyebrow, the smirk ever prevalent. “Not as such.”

 

“Who are you then?” I pressed determinedly, confused by his willingness to be bizarrely informal with me, and yet so against giving me a name to call him. 

 

The man’s grin in response was charming enough to make my heart skip a beat, and yet feral in a way that sent a dash of fear right in its wake. 

 

“Not right now,” was all No-name purred, or at least was able to respond because in the next instant the door barged open with a very irritated looking Calum.

 

“Sarah! It has been 30 minutes and you still haven’t returned. Now, I understand that this dress is important, but I really think it’s time we get going because your head ought to be looked at by--,” he started to speak, plainly annoyed, and coming straight over to us. 

 

When he noticed No-name, however, I could see the bravado drain out of him. 

 

Neither party spoke. No-name merely turned back to the task at hand, and ignored Calum’s appearance.

 

“I think I’m nearly finished, and then we can go?” I said with a slight question at the end and a look at the gentleman waiting to mark the dress.

 

The tailor nodded and stepped forward with a couple of pins. To be honest, I’m not sure what he could have possibly been marking, the dress already fit beautifully and it was a dream of a gown. 

 

It was eerily silent as the tailor finished pinning about the gown. No-name’s hand never left my arm, preventing any future falls.

 

Once the shopkeeper decided I was done, he motioned back towards the changing stall, clearly indicating I could change back into my normal clothes. 

 

No-name assisted me off the small step, brushing his thumb softly over the tops of my knuckles, leaving little sparks that danced across my skin. Or, perhaps I had imagined that part? It had seemed intentional.

 

“You’re going to look ravishing at that ball, my dear,” he said quietly, his eyes flashing and intense, like he was trying to peer into my soul. 

 

My heart caught in my throat for a beat.

 

“Will I get to see you there?” an unexpected hope in my voice. 

 

No-name sent me that signature untamed smile again. 

 

“Absolutely, my dear, absolutely,” and with that he sauntered his way out of the shop, never once looking back. 

 

---

Calum was oddly quiet as they headed back to Balmoral. I had tried to ask him about the stranger when we left the shop, but Calum wouldn’t give an inch. Clearly, he was attending the ball as well, so I simply assumed he was perhaps a nobleman Calum had had an unfortunate encounter with before and didn’t enjoy interacting with. I’d certainly met my share of performers I didn’t care to spend time with. 

 

It was early evening when we returned, the winter sun blocked sadly by all the gray overcast clouds that had rolled in. Immediately, Calum had Drew take me to the onsite doctor for review. To which, he was surprised to find that it would be nothing more than a headache for a while; not serious enough to warrant a trip to the hospital. Should any other symptoms worsen though, we were to call for him immediately. Thanking him, we headed back up to my suite. I was craving a small nap before dinner if possible. Today had been a hectic splatter of fantastic, unsettling, and exhilarating. 

 

As we entered, Calum had just finished carrying my packages to my suite. As he was leaving, he paused when I spoke to him. 

 

“Thank you, by the way, for helping me after I fell. I really enjoyed you taking me around the town today. It was more beautiful than I imagined it would be.”

 

He smiled sadly. I could understand his concern considering the fall I’d had, and that he felt responsible in some regard to my wellbeing. But it didn’t seem reason enough to have looked so torn about. 

 

“It was my pleasure Sarah; I hope you’ll get to see more of it someday. I really do.” his voice dropped to almost a whisper as he spoke, but he offered nothing more, and closed the door with a quiet click . 

Drew was to come back and draw a bath for me prior to dinner, but agreed a bit of rest was exactly what was needed after all the excitement. 

 

“Sleep well, Miss Sarah,” she said, pulling the duvet over me.

 

Feeling the deliciously soft sheets against my skin, I was out before my head hit the pillow.

Notes:

If you ever black out from a fall, please do NOT hesitate to seek medical attention. Sarah is not the example here.

Here's the link to Sarah's dress:
https://www.luulla.com/product/1536671/blue-floral-print-tulle-strapless-long-a-line-prom-dress-graduation-dress

Updates should be coming much faster than previously.

Chapter 5: Chapter 4

Summary:

Sarah attends the Masquerade ball at last.

Notes:

Hiiiiiiii.
I still exist. Getting older is tough shit.
Thank you so much to everyone who continued to reach out and comment. You've no idea how much it honestly meant to me throughout these years.
That said, I'm going to try writing again. I've got chapter 4 here for y'all.
I am NOT going to go back and re-edit the previous sections to probably sound more alike my current writing voice. I hope you'll all appreciate the growth in my writing as much as I do.
My apologies for any minor continuity errors. I will endeavor to push this through to the end. The outline for the story has been done since before I started writing, I will likely only tweak it some and attempt to continue this to fruition.
Your feedback is always welcomed. And thank you again to everyone. <3

“Oh my gosh Sarah, I thought you were never going to call,” Toby sighed after picking up on the fourth ring.

“Hi, Tobes! It’s great to see your face,” I greeted with a smile.

“It’s been days and you have barely answered my texts.” Toby accused me with a raised eyebrow, clearly awaiting an explanation.

“Well, it has been surprisingly hectic,” I chuckled, mostly to myself.
“But! Knowing I’m not going anywhere except the ball, and that’s not until later tonight, is nice. Hopefully, I’ll have more time to explore the grounds before I have to start getting ready.”

I smiled already thinking up all the potential secret staircases and passageways that awaited curious and prying eyes.

“I know that mischievous glint,” he waggled a finger at me, “You’re going to try and find some sort of secret passages aren’t you?” I chuckled at his unerring accuracy.
“Better not get caught! Maybe they won’t let you into the ball if you violate their secrets!” Toby warned.

“Oh please, I’m sure there’s nothing actually here that isn’t completely known and probably used as a tourist point-of-interest anyway,” I justified, stuffing another breakfast scone covered in, again not-of-this-world levels of delicious, jam into my mouth.

“Would be just your luck, end up stepping into some portal to another world or something,” Toby murmured back as I continued munching.

“Can’t say I’d really mind it.”

Toby didn’t respond, just giving me the most serious consideration through the camera.

Not wanting to waste any more time, because I was certain if Drew had her way I’d be whisked away just for a spa pampering all day before the ball (though I probably need it), I launched into details about yesterday.

Toby listened keenly as I relayed to him all the places I’d gotten to see yesterday, the encounter with the strange old lady, how stunning my dress for the ball was, and how there was actually someone I was hoping to share a dance with at the party.

“Sounds like a strange warning if I’ve ever heard one,” Toby commented, still pondering over the words the woman had said to me.
“Maybe don’t go wandering around the woods today eh?” he asked, a hand ruffling through his permanently unkempt hair.

“How’s your head feeling?’

I nodded and responded, “Much better. Wouldn’t have even known I fell yesterday.”

“Glad to hear it. Hate to have to say the reason I do end up coming across the pond would be to see my sister at the hospital for a brain injury,” Toby chuckled.

“Can’t say mom and dad would have been exactly pleased either,” he said with a slight eye roll.

I swallowed the delightfully spiced tea I had been sipping and gave a bob of my head.

“Speaking of, let’s see the parentals so they can at least pretend they remember I exist somewhere on the planet,” I replied with an added hand flourish.

“You’re such a drama queen,” he grumbled, but there was a hint of a smile in the corner of his mouth regardless. The camera blurred into nothingness as he took the phone elsewhere into the house.

Greedily using the slight moment of pause, I munched on the rest of the spread available for breakfast.

“Mom, Dad, Sarah’s on the phone!” He maneuvered the camera facing our dad and Karen. They both smiled and waved sleepily, not quite the morning people that Toby had turned out to be.

We all exchanged pleasantries; I stood up and showed them the suite I was getting to stay in. Dad was excited to hear about all the local architecture I’d gotten to see so far, but Karen interrupted to comment on the room’s designs and furnishing with surprising gusto after some coffee had clearly been procured. I chatted with her about the design of the dress I was going to be wearing, but was unable to offer any pictures.

It was nice speaking to them. Dad had begun chatting away about some particular barn he just had to see, but my mind began to drift as I glanced out at the pink-streaked sky, and witnessed the bustling crew finalize preparations for tonight.

An odd squabble seems to be taking place in the courtyard. I murmured noncommittal agreements as dad continued chatting away on the phone, but was distracted by the scene happening outside.
A taller man in a purple suit is cursing at a smaller crewman. Ah, there’s broken glass behind him, something valuable perhaps? It escalated, there were arms flailing about now.

My eyes widened as I watched the taller man raise his fist like he was about to strike the crewman. I think I wasn’t breathing. That moment before a train wreck, and you just can’t look away.

In heartbeat, Hogarth was there, firmly between the two, but nothing looked right.

I felt the phone slip from my grasp.

Each of them had pale, white skin stretched tight over sharp bones. The taller man was hunched with what looked like knives in his hands. Their sinewy limbs are shadowed by the ink horns twisting up from the porcelain heads.

Hogarth, the middle one, was clasping his hand (claw?) around the taller one’s neck. They were close enough that I could see their mouths, wide and frightening.

I exhaled the breath I was holding, and all three obsidian gazes whipped to me. Hogarth’s mouth shifts to a snarl and the taller one made a screech, like a knife dragging on glass.

I blinked.

“Sarah? Sarah, you dropped your phone, sweetie!” I heard my dad’s voice cutting through the haze of my brain. I reached down, picked it up, and glanced back outside.

“Sorry about that dad. I thought I saw something outside is all,” I finally replied seeing the three men chortling in a group together, normal as ever and distinctly happier than what had been occurring moments ago. Right? Had I imagined it?

“Well, we should let you get back to your party. I’m sure there are lots to be done before tonight! Can’t wait to hear all about it when you get back, sunshine!” Dad said, wrapping up the conversation. Karen added her goodbyes and the camera was given back to Toby, who walked back to the privacy of his own room to finish their conversation.

“S’pose it’s still a decent trip even if you don’t get into some sort of calamitous affair with magical beings,” he chirped.

My eyebrows furrowed.

“Gee, if I didn’t know any better I’d think you were hoping for me to get captured by fairie folk, aren’t you?” I moved about, away from the window and finished off the remaining coffee at the table.

Toby didn’t reply, but looked at me, smiling…almost sadly.

“What’s wrong Tobes?”

He ran a hand through his already disheveled locks, about to say something, but shook his head and glanced up at me with a tight smile.

“Nothing wrong Sarah, probably your overactive imagination just rubbed off on me. All your fault, actually!” he chuckled.

I rolled my eyes, smiling back.

“Alright you little goblin, I’ve got to go get dressed and get on with my day if I’m going to see anything in this crazy castle.”

We said our goodbyes and I strolled into the bathroom to finish getting ready for the morning.

I had just exited my room and noticed the door across from mine was open and there was a couple arguing within. They were..hissing? Or, well, speaking in a language I didn’t recognize, but it was clearly angry-type emotions erupting from the tension.

Not wanting to make anything awkward, I began to step toward the stairwell. But, just as I passed, and chanced a glance into the space I could see the arm of whoever was shouting. It was the same pale, bone-white that I had seen outside not even 20 minutes ago. I felt a throbbing in my temple, an aching pressure, that seemed to blur my surroundings.

My hand came up to cradle my suddenly pulsing skull, but before my fingers could reach to massage the pain, there was a loud CRACK, and the pain melted away to nothing but a tingle.

“Selfish, ungrateful, pretentious ass,” a man, a very normal, human-looking one, stormed past, coming from the room.

I blinked a couple more times, casting a glance at the now-closed door that had no sounds coming from within any longer.

Perhaps there was something more to this minor head bump?

 

With only a couple of hours before I needed to return to my room and begin getting made up for the ball, I shrugged off what I assumed was a lover’s quarrel and made my way down to the foyer. It was hectic but coordinated chaos as the servants bustled about loading items into trucks that presumably would be transported to the location of tonight’s festivities. Agnes was standing near a hallway with a clipboard, directing people to and fro. Trays of food were hurried out to a rumbling truck sitting outside the front door, followed by large, full barrels being rolled up a small ramp into the back, no doubt beverages for the feast.

I tried to remain out of the way as the commotion continued, sticking to the walls and avoiding anyone’s eyes in particular so as to look inconspicuous while I roamed about. There hadn’t been any rules against wandering, at least none that I’d been informed of, but I didn’t want to be considered a nuisance.

For the most part, as I strolled down the large stone hallways, I seemed to be invisible to the crew. No one made any eye contact, just heads straight and on task. It was kind of admirable how well they played their roles in this event. I was almost jealous that some of the theater crews I had worked with weren’t as dedicated to their jobs as this group was.

They must all be well compensated, I thought to myself as I turned a blind corner and nearly collided with a boulder of a man with two full wine caskets upon each of his shoulders. Fumbling backward, I thought I was going to catch myself on the wall but was surprised to find I fell entirely through open space and landed sorely on my butt. There was a concealed door where I had tried to steady myself, and now I was in an empty passage between the walls.

“How curious,” I mumbled to myself and cautiously walked through the secret passway. I could hear the continuing hustle where I had been, but as I came upon a turn, it began to grow quieter. The path was narrow with small curves in the sandy stone architecture. After a few haphazard choices of turns, I was at the base of a curved stairwell. There was no door at the top, but a small iron panel that was slid to open, and I could hear voices coming from it.

I peeked through the opening and could see two pairs of feet facing each other.

“Of course, everything will go according to plan!” Agnes’ voice, somewhat exasperated, came through clearly.

“I’ve made absolutely certain of it.”

“I’m not doubting your skills, Agnes,” the other pair of feet’s voice answered, sounding like Hogarth.

“Could've fooled me,” she said, tone annoyed. I craned my head to see if I could see either of the faces, but was disappointingly left with the view of shoes.

“Don’t be so prickly,” Hogarth said, his shiny shoes, walking past Agnes’ to rustle through what sounded like papers, and her shoes turned to face him.

“You know as well as I do that if it goes poorly tonight, it won’t be something as minuscule as money that’s at stake,” Hogarth continued.

Agnes grumbled some sort of response, but I couldn’t make it out clearly.

Whatever it was she had said to him though, Hogarth’s feet rushed back into view, backing Anges’ towards the panel I was eavesdropping from, and I heard a THUD and a rattling of things.

“You’d do best to watch that tongue of yours Agnes,” Hogarth growled angrily. My face tightened in concern at the threat in his voice.

“If this gets fucked up, it’ll be your blood on the line with an attitude like that, not mine.” Agnes didn’t respond that I could hear.

“And you wouldn’t want to disappoint the Master, would you?” Hogarth’s voice finally said, the sneer evident.

“Kidnapping would have been easier and without all the need for such theatrics is all I’m saying,” Agnes huffed, and presumably having rightened herself, she moved away from Hogarth and out of view of the panel I could see.

Kidnapping?

“I don’t disagree with you, but our lovely patrons desire a hunt, and a hunt they shall receive. Blood and feast in abundance,” he replied and moved in her same direction. A door creaked open, and the last sound I heard was a terrible hissing laugh, that left my hair standing on end.

Was there a crime being planned this evening? Surely they couldn’t have meant blood blood, it must’ve been a turn of phrase for something else. Were the two of them involved in something more monstrous behind this evening? I supposed it would be a perfect cover to make someone disappear.

I backed down the little stairway and tried to meander my way out of the walls while keeping a hand on the wall to see if I could press for an exit sooner.

After a short while, I managed to find one and cracked the door open as silently as possible, uncertain of where I might be coming out right now. It looked like one of the bedroom suites, and blessedly no one was occupying it right now. There was however luggage about the room, and it was indeed someone’s room. I started my way over to the main door, but heard voices on the other side. Heart beginning to race, I looked about to find someplace I could hide. The door handle was turning, and I threw myself behind the ginormous thick curtain that was pulled back from the windows next to the door, feet also successfully hidden by its size.

I held my breath as the door opened fully and more than one set of footsteps entered the room.

My blood was rushing in my ears as I kept myself as still as a statue, praying for a moment I could escape.

“Such a tedious mess, but still such a delightful way to end the search,” one of the voices said, moving towards the other side of the room, and then the sound of footsteps on the tile as she receded into the bathroom.

There was another body still in the main bedroom, moving about and presumably tidying up. I took a shallow breath, and the body within the room seemed to stop moving. My heart picked up the pace as nerves shot through me.

“Lydia can you please come help me take these ties out?” the voice from the bathroom called, a diversion created.

“Of course Ma’am,” Lydia answered and when I heard her feet tapping onto the tile as well, I took my chance and bolted from my hiding place and out the door into the hallway.

The door clicked shut softly behind me, and I finally took a deep breath to settle the anxiety of nearly getting caught in someone else’s room.

“Miss Sarah!”

I flew into the air with a start.

Drew was behind me, an amused look on her freckled face.

I gulped.

“I swear this really isn’t what it looks like,” I said, backing away from the door.

She shook her head, but had a small smile on her face when she looked at me again.

“No worries. It can be a bit hard finding your way through a castle like this,” she beckoned me to follow her down the hallway.

“It’s fortuitous timing anyway,” she said as we came upon the hallway I was staying in, “need to start getting you ready for the ball, my lady!”

“Really?” I glanced about for a clock. “It can’t have been that long since I left my room. I thought you didn’t need me for a few more hours?”

Drew ushers me into my room again, heading straight for the bath and running it without hesitation.
“Of course, ma’am. But, it’s going to take some time to get you looking all pretty like,” she explained, pulling out bottles I presumed she was going to use on my hair and skin.

“And, I finished up my chores early so I can help you get dressed sooner!” she exclaims happily.

As Drew busied herself with preparations, I found myself sinking onto the edge of the bed, watching her work. Bottles clinked together as she arranged them with practiced efficiency, the scent of lavender and rosewater already filling the air.
“You’re sure we have to start this early?” I asked again, my fingers trailing idly over the embroidery on the coverlet.
“Ma’am,” Drew turned, brandishing a comb with mock severity, “it’s going to take time to get you looking the part. You don’t just throw on a dress and call it done. Besides,” she added with a grin, “you’re the guest of honor tonight, aren’t you? Can’t have you looking anything less than dazzling.”
I wasn’t sure about ‘guest of honor,’ but I didn’t argue as she nudged me toward the bath.

It's HOURS of prepping. But I tough through it because in all honesty, Drew must be a witch with the spells she's managed to cast with all the products on the counter to have me looking like something out of a genuine fairy tale.
By the time I was laced into the gown, the last pin set into my hair, and the final touch of perfume dabbed at my wrists, the evening outside had fully settled. The mirror reflected an unfamiliar figure—draped in deep silks, the color shifting between midnight blue and indigo depending on the candlelight’s flicker. Tiny gemstones dusted the fabric like stars. My dressed rippled like the night sky, leaves of gold and silver in the lining as if it were something only a master artist could paint onto fabric. I have never seen anything, nor worn anything as absolutely stunning as the gown upon me.
Drew beamed at her work, then shooed me toward the door where a knock had already sounded.
The moment I stepped outside, my breath caught. A carriage waited at the bottom of the steps, its lanterns glowing with a golden shimmer. The horses, sleek and impossibly still, shifted their weight in eerie silence. Above us, the trees stretched long shadows across the drive, branches curling like fingers against the starlit sky.
The ride itself was smooth, but the deeper we went into the woods, the more I noticed how the light changed. Glowing orbs—faerie lights?—drifted lazily between the branches, shifting in color when I glanced away and back again. The road seemed almost endless, winding toward something unseen.
Then, through a break in the trees, the manor came into view.
The manor rose from the shadows like something out of a dream—tall spires stretching toward the night sky, its many windows aglow with golden light. The closer we drew, the more details emerged: ivy curling up marble columns, carved archways adorned with figures that almost seemed to shift when I wasn't looking, and grand stained-glass panels that shimmered with movement, as if the figures within them danced to the distant melody wafting through the air.
The carriage rolled to a smooth stop before a sweeping staircase, where footmen in deep blue livery awaited. One of them stepped forward, opening the door and offering me a hand. As I stepped down, my shimmering gown cascaded around me, the gems sewn into its fabric catching the light like tiny stars.
"Welcome, my lady," the footman murmured with a slight bow before gesturing toward the entrance.
I took a steadying breath and ascended the steps. The moment I crossed the threshold, the sound of revelry engulfed me—a symphony of music, laughter, and the soft rustle of silk sweeping across polished floors. The entrance hall was vast, its ceiling disappearing into a painted night sky alive with moving constellations. Chandeliers of glass and gold hovered without chains, casting a warm glow over guests adorned in the finest silks and masks of intricate filigree.
A woman in a deep emerald gown approached, her mask adorned with delicate peacock feathers. "Lady Sarah, welcome," she said with a knowing smile. "You have arrived just in time. The hosts are eager to make your acquaintance."
Before I could ask what she meant, she offered an elegant arm and guided me through a set of grand double doors. Beyond them lay the ballroom—a space so vast it felt endless. The walls shimmered with what seemed to be woven moonlight, shifting as I moved. Floating candles drifted lazily overhead, their flames undisturbed by the dance of figures below.
A hush fell as I entered. Dozens of masked faces turned toward me, the sea of colors and shimmering silks parting slightly, as if the very room recognized my presence. Then, as if on cue, the music swelled, and a gentleman in a dark suit and silver mask stepped forward, bowing deeply.
"Would you grant me the first dance, my lady?"
I placed my hand in his, and we swept onto the floor. The music carried us effortlessly, each step feeling lighter than air, as if the very ground beneath us responded to the rhythm. The gentleman led with practiced ease, his movements precise yet fluid, guiding me through twirls and turns that left my gown fanning out like ripples in a pond.
As the song ended, another masked figure stepped forward, offering their hand with a playful bow. I barely had a moment to catch my breath before being whisked into another waltz, then another, each partner more enchanting than the last. Some had masks adorned with shimmering jewels, others with delicate gold filigree that caught the light like fireflies. Their attire ranged from flowing robes that trailed like mist to structured suits that gleamed like polished onyx.
The ballroom itself shifted subtly with each dance, as if reacting to the movements of its guests. One moment, the ceiling sparkled with constellations; the next, it reflected a swirling aurora of color. The chandeliers overhead pulsed with the beat of the music, their golden glow warming and dimming in time with each measure. Walls of silk draped like cascading waterfalls seemed to ripple as dancers twirled past.
At last, I found myself breathless, the exhilaration of the dances leaving my heart pounding. I stepped away from the swirling mass of figures, making my way toward a quieter alcove lined with velvet seating. A servant appeared almost instantly, offering a flute of chilled pink liquid, the bubbles catching the light like tiny stars. It’s sweet at first, like cotton candy, but mellows out quickly into a citrus lightness. Drinks like this possibly go down dangerously easily.
As I continued to drink, I allowed myself a moment to take it all in—the magic, the mystery, the lingering thrill of the dance. And yet, a strange feeling stirred beneath my excitement. Something about this night felt... deliberate, as if unseen hands had guided me to this exact moment.
Feeling elated and surprisingly at ease with the numerous guests confidently twirling on the dancefloor, I took a moment to breathe, the smile on my face completely natural in comparison to how I ended up presenting myself at other galas I had attended in the states.

I didn’t notice him at first, too, caught up in just existing in the moment of the magic.

“It’s almost a bit overwhelming, isn’t it?” a voice called next to me. I turn to see decidedly familiar frosty blue eyes.

“It’s,” I surveyed the scene quickly, “enchanting, infectious even. It feels impossible to not enjoy oneself this evening.”

No-name reaches towards one of the passing wait staff and lifts two flutes of pink, bubbly alcohol off the tray. He hands me one of the glasses, swapping my empty one to the tray, and raises it between the two of us.

“A toast then, to your second masquerade ball and the enjoyment of the evening!” he said with his devilish smile.

I took a sip of the fizzing drink, quirking an eyebrow at him.

“What is this exactly? I’ve never had champagne like it,” I asked, enjoying the flavors and pleasant liquid courage it came with.

There was a mischievous twinkle in the icy gaze as he surveyed me from head to toe, unapologetically staring.

“Fairy wine of course! What else would be at the masquerade ball?” he said rhetorically, as he slipped my hand into his arm and guided us for a turn about the room.

 

“Also, I don’t recall attending a previous one. I’m quite certain this is my first,” I replied, taking another sip. My free hand fidgeted anxiously at my side. It had been a long time, or so it felt, since emotions this exciting had been blooming inside of me.

“Perhaps the first of many things to come then, hm?” No-name’s intense expression stared into mine.

I kept my courage and held his eye-contact.

“Perhaps so.”

The smile I’m awarded with caused the already restless butterflies in my stomach to turn to heat.

Subtly, I gave him a once over, admiring the deep red brocade vest, and the silver suit he was wearing. What might have looked gaudy on another, he seemed to pull off impeccably.

“You certainly clean up nice,” I joked thinking over our first meeting and his haphazard dress.

His tongue darted out to wet his lips, and let out a soft chuckle; my eyes followed the movement.

“What can I say, the bar was raised decidedly high when I saw what you were going to be wearing.”

I inhaled sharply, and smiled. My feet were glad of the break, and No-name seemed plenty willing to gossip about the other guests in attendance. Some were mistresses dancing with their lovers right under the wives noses; some were formal business deals and only here for appearances and nothing more; many were here for the excuse of enjoying the excess of it all.

I finished the second glass of “fairy wine” and felt the delightful buzz tingling on my tongue.

He stood after a few moments, and extended his gloved hand to me.

“Dance with me,” he more commanded than requested.

I felt a tremor of hesitation, something telling me to stop for a moment, but I swallowed it down and placed my palm in his.

He spun me effortlessly into his arms and onto the dance floor. The guests seemed to part away as he guided us into the crowd. His hand, warm on my waist pulled me snugly into him, the other lightly tickling its way from my wrist to the tips of my fingers before clasping into his.

The heat inside of me was warming up further as we danced together. He danced so easily, I allowed myself to be simply lost in dance after dance with him. Chatting about everything and nothing at all, it felt like the dreams I had imagined as a girl, easily forgetting the sea of people around when all I could focus on is the hungry gaze I was receiving from No-name.

Ah. Name.

“So,” I started as the music changed to something slower, more intimate. His grip shifted too, he pulled me closer, the hand not currently warming the small of my back came up to brush away an errant curl from my face.

“Do I get a name yet?” I asked, resolute I would be getting this small piece of information out of him before the end of the evening.

His fingers tensed next to my face, his mouth dropped from the carefree smile to a more serious line. He bent his head closer to mine, forehead practically resting against mine. My breath hitched at the closeness.

“My name is–,” before he could utter the next word a rather portly gentleman had crashed into one of the waitstaff and was making a screaming scene over it.

No-name had pulled back and stopped our dancing. His eyebrows were drawn tight, and he looked at me again.

“I’m sorry Sarah, I should see if I can assist. Why don’t you get something to eat, my dear, and I’ll be back over as soon as I can?” he answered and disappeared into the curious gathering crowd without anything further.

Food was sounding great at this point, having not eaten since the few snacks Drew had brought me while I was being made up into the mask of myself. I drifted toward a banquet table draped in deep sapphire velvet, where silver platters shimmered under soft candlelight. The scent of spiced fruits, roasted meats, and sugared confections filled the air, tantalizing and rich. Crystalline bowls held glistening berries that sparkled as though kissed by frost, while delicate pastries, dusted with a shimmering powder, exuded a scent both familiar and otherworldly.
I reached for something that looked like chocolate but melted on my tongue with an unfamiliar yet delightful sweetness—a flavor I couldn't quite name. Every bite was a revelation, each taste a burst of something both strange and exquisite, as though the food itself belonged to a world untouched by mortal hands.
After making a plate, I picked and nibbled at the treats, all things I felt like I had never tasted before. Flavors my mouth was unaware existed, each one dissolving on my tongue with a sensation that was almost intoxicating.
I grabbed a few of my favorite not-quite-chocolate ones and another flute of fairy wine, its liquid swirling with a faint, iridescent glow. With my treasures in hand, I moved to a perch in the corner of the room, sinking into the plush velvet cushions to watch the twirling gowns and listen to the fantasy of the evening unfold around me. The music wove itself into the fabric of the moment, lifting and swirling like the dancers themselves, and for a brief, enchanted instant, I felt as if I were part of something infinite, something beyond time itself.
With no one else I knew, or at this moment cared to know about, I found my thoughts drifting to the dreams I had had recently. The man’s voice from my dreams and the one I had been listening to for an extended part of the evening… They were certainly similar. It felt like an odd thing to compare suddenly, but something inside of me wanted to make sure they were not the same person, instead of what one might presume I should want to do, and confirm they are the same person. Something in my gut reacting as if it’s a red flag if it’s the same person at all.

The fairy wine was stronger than perhaps I had initially given it credit. The air was light and I was starting to feel weightless in the marble ballroom. Everything had an almost, ethereal glow emanating from it. The lights, the colors, the sounds even. This was the fantasy I had always desired to be a part of.

Distantly, I hear a clock chime. It doesn’t feel strangely odd though that I should hear a clock of all things above the raucous of the party. I looked about as if to spot what must be the world’s largest clock. I found none, but I see the guards at the doors. They looked…different. I squinted and couldn’t distinguish if the armor was there, or if they were dressed in robes of some fashion.

Confused, I shook my head but didn’t pursue it further. I’d probably just had too much to drink.

One was always too much, an irritable inner voice warned uselessly.

The clock struck again and there was a touch at my elbow.

I turned to see No-name, his arm wrapping with mine, I smiled at his presence. But his grin was off…a bit more manic. There was a red flag angrily waving itself in my mind, but I waved it away, annoyed that my brain was trying to take away from the fun of the night.

No-name was leading me onto the dancefloor again.

I giggled.

“Sir, I don’t think I’ll be much of a dancing partner after all that fairy wine,” I said between giggles.

Another clock chime.

Was it echoing in my head? Couldn’t anybody else hear how loud it was?

No-name’s arms came around me, spinning me effortlessly off the ground.

“Oh, I think you’ll do just fine. It's the after-party we’ll need to get you sobered up for,” he answered mysteriously.

I hummed noncommittally.

Another chime.

He spins me, or maybe the world spins around me instead, it’s hard to tell.

More chimes, I’ve lost count. It sounds ceaseless in my ears.

No-name hauled me closer to him, bending close enough I could feel his breath on my ear.

“Almost showtime, my dear” his melodic voice said.

I nodded, enjoying the feeling of his arms tight around me as we swayed.

Clock strikes.

“Ladies and gentleman of the evening,” the announcer’s voice was back, having disappeared since early in the evening when the last guest had arrived.

No-name’s eyes locked with mine, they shimmered, changing..changing colors? I blinked at him confused.

“Why are your eyes,” I reached up a hand towards his face.

“It is without further ado, I introduce you to tonight’s host.”

I didn’t notice where he was leading me, a bit more entranced at trying to determine if I really was drunk off fairy wine or if something weird was going on. His eyes were definitely shifting to a distinct red instead of the blue I'd been looking into all evening.

“Please welcome our ‘Goblin King’ and prestigious benefactor,”

One last chime. The addled lady’s words, the warning just out of reach from my rational mind.

“Saxon Jacks!”

Cheers erupted from the crowd, and out of habit I glanced around to see where the host was.

But we weren’t on the middle of the dance floor anymore.

We were up on the steps at the end of the room, the throne so to speak.

And everyone’s eyes were trained on us.

I looked back at him, piercing red eyes gazed predatorily back into mine, and noticed the lights were trained on us only.

No-name was Saxon Jacks.

I had been dancing with the “Goblin King” all evening.

Chapter 6: Chapter 5

Summary:

Turning the tides. Truth revealed?

Notes:

Hiya,

It's a pretty short chapter. This had been written before and I've gone through and just done some editing to it.

Time slurred through my mind. Each movement felt sluggish, heavy.

I couldn’t focus on the words—or perhaps the speech—being said to the audience before us. My heart pounded in my ears.
Something about calling this man the “Goblin King” made my stomach roll.

He’s no Goblin King, I thought. But where had that certainty come from? It was foolish—what basis for comparison did I have? This was just a party. And of course, the host would be the “king.”

“All hail the Goblin King!” the guests chanted, shattering my reverie. I blinked, glancing at the applause that rippled through the crowd.
Some guests bowed, their faces lit with strange excitement. I took a deep breath, grounding myself. It was still a fun evening ahead. Special, even, to have drawn the host’s attention.

Jacks flourished his arm into the air, shifting to the next person on his list—the one they were all waiting for. The anticipation in the room was tangible, brighter than the jewels adorning the guests. I smiled, leaning in to listen.

“And now,” Jacks purred, “our esteemed guest of honor.”

His voice carried, the air in the room sharpening with expectation.

“It is my pleasure to introduce to you all the most wondrous prize of tonight’s festivities!”

Prize? The word skittered in my brain, barely processing. The room was thick with champagne haze, my limbs light and unsteady.

“The one we’ve all dreamed of meeting,” Jacks continued, drawing out the moment with deliberate flair. “The one we’ve heard so much about that she now, rightly, has her own folktales.”
He lifted his hand sharply—smoke curled into an image above him.

A great beast, orange fur bristling, surrounded by boulders.

Familiar.

Jacks twirled, and another illusion bloomed: a blue worm, a stout creature with a large nose, and an almost squirrel-like thing holding a spear.
The images dissolved, but the pressure in my skull was growing.
Jacks moved to the center of the stage, arms weaving through the air.

“And—” his voice deepened, lingering on the moment, “she conquered that dreadful maze. All to save her precious baby brother from the clutches of the fae.”

A baby.
An owl.

My head pulsed, sharp and insistent. The dream from last night returned in full force. I stared at the intricate maze drawn from Jacks’ illusions.

I know that place.
The words struck, solid and undeniable.

“Ladies and gentlemen, she is none other than the Champion of the Labyrinth herself—Miss Sarah Williams!”
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The Labyrinth.

Something cracked inside me. A wall in my mind, straining, shattering. And the memories—were they memories?—flooded over me.
A fairy’s bite...

A bog that smelled atrocious.

Goblins.

A clock ticking down...

The cheers and howls dragged me back. I was standing at the front of it all. Jacks’ hand was extended, waiting.
My breath fluttered—too shallow, too fast. The roar of the crowd was the kind of sound one might hear when they’d wandered too far into the woods, too late at night, with no way back.

Impatient, Jacks crooked his long finger.

My feet moved, unbidden.

He reached for me, spinning me onto the spotlit dais with unearthly grace.

His palm met mine, fingers twining with unsettling intimacy.

I swallowed the bubbled nerves, my senses prickling at the spectacle and I felt an insistent need to RUN pulsing through my blood.

Jacks’ grip tightened. Nails bit into my skin.

I tried to pull away. “Jacks, my hand,” I whispered, tugging again. “You’re hurting me.”

The room fell silent, charged and waiting. Jacks only smiled and turned back to the audience.
“All these years, ladies and gentlemen, and we finally have our prize!”

The crowd erupted. Hollers. Hissing. Screeches.

Trapped.

“What do you mean, prize?” My voice held stronger than I felt. “I’m not something to be won. I’m a person.”
Jacks chuckled, low and indulgent. “Oh, Sarah. You’re so much more than that.” He fanned his arm across the ballroom before yanking me forward, down the steps.

“You’re anything but just a person — with all that magic racing through you?! My darling girl, do you even know where you are?” he asked with a casual sneer and fanned his arm across the room again before pulling me down the stairs into the center of the room.

“You’re at the Ball of the Unseelie, darling.”

The dream-like ballroom twisted, as if reality itself was unraveling. The illusion cracked.

Gilded beauty peeled away. Beneath it—black, hollow eyes. Ghostly skin. Horns, twisted and treacherous.

Hands once adorned with gems and silk revealed themselves as claws. Their tips were blackened—except for Jacks’. His were stained scarlet.

“I don’t understand…” I struggled. “Let me go, Jacks!”

A low, guttural purr. He yanked me forward, slicing my palm in one swift motion.

I gasped, pressing my fingers against the wound.

Jacks’ eyes gleamed. “You can almost see it, can’t you?” he murmured. “It’s seeping out of you.”

The room vibrated with hunger. A thousand unblinking eyes locked onto me, open and vulnerable.

Jacks' smile stretched wider, his form shifting—no longer the elegant host, but something taller, darker. Teeth sharp enough to shatter bone with a mere twitch. His black, soulless gaze locked with mine.

My dream had descended into a nightmare.

I took a step back. My lungs squeezed, failing to keep up with my racing heart.

“Come now, Sarah,” Jacks crooned, voice deeper, rumbling across the marble floor. “We can’t very well let you leave the party early.”
The guests moved closer—all wearing identical cloaks now, marked with sigils I didn’t recognize.

“What are you?” I shouted, scrambling backward.

A hand caught my waist, stopping my fall.

“We’re fae, darling,” Jacks whispered in my ear. “Don’t you remember? All that raw magic coursing in your veins doesn’t just come from nothing.”

My throat tightened. Hadn’t I always known?

I fought against his grip, but he dragged me back up the stairs with effortless strength.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” I snapped.

Jacks’ eyes darkened. “I think you do, Sarah. I think you’re lying.”

His thumb pressed against my forehead.

The world cracked open.

Fire licked through my mind. Memories—or something like them—burst, rapid and chaotic.

Fairies.

A clock.

Peaches.

Panic.

Lost.

A race against a clock.

A great beast calling my name.

Friends?...

Purpose.

An Owl.

Regret.

It wasn’t fair.

I couldn’t keep up with the onslaught of images.

My knees buckled. Jacks caught me, clicking his tongue. “Now, now. We have a game to play.” His claws trailed down my arm.

“Here’s the rules,” his voice higher now, almost sing-song as it cracked, “We’re going to be the hunters and you’re our lovely, delicious deer.”

My lip coiled in disgust. Of course I was his deer. He’d been calling me his prey the whole time.

“Don’t make me sound like some piece of meat.”

Jacks chuckled.

“Such brevity for someone who I could kill right now instead.” His claws locked around my neck, tightly enough so just the points of his claws pressed uncomfortably into the delicate skin.

I gulped. Perhaps playing along with his games would let me live longer, or it might give me the chance to escape. Survival was key.

“Seems like I have the disadvantage in this game, being human and all,” I struggled to retort.

Jacks smile widened. The Cheshire cat would be put to shame.

“You’ll have an exquisite 13 hour head start to run and hide, as best you can that is. And anyone who attacks you has to do it themselves, let you at least see what’s coming then.”

Jacks changes his hold, grasping only my bloodied palm, but tight enough I can’t wrench away yet. It hurt, but I stubbornly blinked back the tears threatening to escape, not going to give him the satisfaction.

“That’s not fair,” I hissed back through gritted teeth, his claws prying my fist open.

“Mmm, well we aren’t exactly known for fairness darling. This alone is more than generous, I’m sure my followers are already bothered at the time limit.” Shouts and shrieks followed.

“Better run and hide precious little deer.”

With that Jacks hastily wrenched my arm up and licked the blood clean off my skin.

Revulsed, I was finally allowed to pull my hand away.

The other fae howled at the action, screeching with jealousy, but Jacks’ eyes now glittered like obsidian. He ignored them, eyes never left mine. He snapped his fingers and a tall grandfather clock appeared beside him, ticking loudly above the raucous crowd of beasts and devils.

“Tick-tock Sarah...13 hours till all that delightful blood is mine.” His voice assured, promised. With a wave of his hand he disappeared as the crowd rushed the stage now.

Panicked, I spun around and ran as hard as I could through the nearest opening.

Down one hallway, no turns, no doors, no windows, stairs.

Another flight of stairs, and another, the windows all blackened.

I rushed around an unexpected corner; there a door did open, but the same blackened nothing greeted me as I looked out.

I turned around, panting hard now, and fled further, trying to put as much distance between myself and that horrid ball room as I could.

The howls echoed above me, the clock ticking deep through my bones .

Chasing and seeking.

More turns, endless nothings.

Was I running in circles?

Doors that wouldn’t open.

Had Jacks doomed my fate to this maze? To run until exhaustion set in and the clock ran out?

Windows that revealed nothing.

I was going nowhere.

“Oh, did I forget to mention?” Jack’s voice rang harshly in the endless corridors, echoing like a freight train through a tunnel.

I whipped about, creatures racing towards me. The demons, teeth gnashing, charged at me.

“Welcome back to the Underground darling,” he said and his final laugh rattled about inside my skull.

A black hole began to spread from the nearest window, consuming everything around it. I tried to run, as hard as my limbs would allow, from them all.

The ground beneath me was consumed and I was falling into the dark chasm.

It felt like the air was ripped from my lungs as I fell.

I couldn’t scream.

I am going to die, I thought despairingly.

Darkness had ebbed its way into every pore, every crevice. I clawed at my throat, chilled and unable to breathe right.

It felt like there wasn’t a glimmer of warmth left in my body. Each heartbeat echoed into my ears, piercing pain with each count.

Just when I had nearly surrendered, succumbing to the icy chill seeping through my veins, I collided with a surface that shattered on the impact.