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Noel shook his head as he climbed off and started for the stream, his shoes squishing against the mud at the water’s edge. “See the stone up ahead? I think we’re right on it…” He pointed past the trees shading the other side, and Grey hopped off.
Tangled roots and soft green consumed the ancient walls of what remained of the buildings and monuments in front of them. Pillars stood with crumbled chunks around them, like a tree shedding leaves.
A shiver worked through him as Noel took the first step onto one of the rocks. Water lapped at his soles on his way to the next. Grey followed behind, like this was a child’s game of exploration he vaguely plucked from his memory, always chasing after someone he couldn’t remember.
Once they were on the other side, Grey turned back to the bike with a frown.
“Come on.” Noel tugged on his sleeve, ripping him from his urge to escape from this place and the unease settling in his stomach.
The brush of grass transitioned into the tap of well-worn stone beneath them, set among ransacked destruction and decay. Threadbare banners were snagged on doorframes and ripped along the sides, almost as if someone had removed the trim. Grey bet it was probably gold, considering the gaping hole in the center of the flag where the emblem once sat.
Alchemic symbols matching the ones tattooed on their arms were scratched into the wall plaques they passed once they ducked inside the first, partially-roofed building, along with half-torn notes begging for curses to be undone.
Take away these nightmares, one demanded.
My mother is sick because of this curse. Please spare her, cried another.
I did what you asked. Take it away, read the third. You have my son, now free me from this wretched blood bond.
“Nothing comes without sacrifice,” Grey mumbled under his breath, like a mantra as he rubbed his arms and wandered after Noel through the debris of the collapsed roof.
The former garden sat before them with upheaved paving stones and a toppled, eroded fountain. Noel slowed as they passed it and clicked his tongue. “Figures there’s nothing in it.”
“We probably won’t find anything unless we go pretty far inside,” Grey said, staring down the dilapidated, covered path up ahead where stone met mountain. The spaced columns holding the entrance together leading into the inner sanctum might as well have been beckoning them into a massive cathedral. He grabbed at the key around his neck. “I don’t think this is a good idea.”
Noel ran a hand through his hair with a grimace at the yawning maw of the fair folk shrine. “I know it’s not a good idea, but we’re sort of out of options.” He motioned for Grey to walk with him, and they started into the shadow of the overhang, straight into the depths of the teeming dark.
They stopped on the threshold of the entrance for their eyes to adjust to the dim, cavernous dome of a main hall. Chandeliers hung among the beams, candles frozen mid-drip without their flames to whittle them down. Two were missing, tiles cracked below where they once hung, but their remains were nowhere to be found.
Picked clean.
That was the only real way to describe this place with how the recessed candle holders and sconces had been ripped from their nooks and off the walls. All that remained were less dusty outlines of rugs and seating had once rested before it’d been ransacked.
And Grey couldn’t help but feel a twinge of remorse for all the destruction others had left behind. That pang of sadness pressed in on him, and as Noel started forward, pulling his flashlight from his belt, Grey grabbed his arm. “This feels wrong.”
He cocked his head and flicked on the light. “Grey, it’s a fair folk shrine. They want to kill us for sport. I don’t think they’ll give a shit if you feel guilty about it. You’d rather live, wouldn’t you?”
Grey shifted, letting go of Noel as he traced the trail of the flashlight beam. The far-off memory of his mother pulling him into her lap while they watched distant, dancing lights unfurled in his mind. One that came with the reminder to respect the fair folk as she brushed his hair from his eyes.
Those were words that’d stuck with him through the years, grounding him with his actions and observations. It’s why he steered clear of those who would harm him and cause more damage to a world that he’d be fortunate enough to be born into—to try to immortalize through sketches and musings without consuming more than the fair folk would balk at.
“Yes,” Grey said, his shoulders sagging as Noel led the way again.
Chunks of broken tile slid underfoot in their travel down the far corridor, Grey’s key digging into his palm with every shuffle forward. The beam swept over open door after open door, catching on the glint of beady little eyes before they scurried away with a chorus of squeaks.
They turned down another hall, and Noel slid to a stop in front of a closed door. A quick test of the handle: locked.
“You don’t suppose someone relocked this at some point, do you?” he whispered.
Grey shook his head while Noel ran the light over the door’s intricate pattern, though it was missing hexagonal tiles.
“No keyhole…” he muttered, taking a step back as Grey stepped forward.
He traced some of the green-tinted metal set into the door, his fingers stopping at the missing piece. “What if it needs these parts to be filled in? Maybe those are the keys?”
Noel hummed and shone the light at some of the nearby doors. He nudged one of them open to a couple of trunks sitting on the floor, and Grey braved a look into another room a little further down the hall. The door creaked open to a beat-up desk and shelves folded in.
Grey stepped inside, and the world brightened every-so-slightly. The desk and shelves stretched out of sight; the room spread out like butter on toast with its creamy hue turning everything shiny and new again. His legs locked up, stunned by the sudden magic before he spun around. The door was gone.
