I shrugged. “Might as well get it over with now.”
“I suppose,” he said before gesturing to the woman to lead the way.
And oh, the stairs. I was not prepared to feel like I was walking a tightrope the second I set foot on the stairs. I tripped down two of them before I managed to regain my balance.
“Railing!” the woman hollered and pointed.
“Yes, ma’am.” I carefully slid along the step until I could grasp the railing.
Solaris was trying not to laugh—and failing—as he practically skipped down the stairs like he’d been born in heels. Four days later and under the watchful eye of that woman, I joined him at the bottom of the staircase.
“That just won’t do,” she said with a shake of her head.
“I agree. Tell him I need shoes with no heels.”
“Your Highness?—”
“Oh, come now, Magda! He’ll get used to them.” Solaris waved like he was dismissing us. “Now where are we going?”
“The formal parlor, Your Highness.”
I tiptoed past Magda and whispered, “Please get me a hammer so I can whack these heels off.”
She giggled before she cleared her throat and gave me a glare like she, too, now knew I was going to be a problem.
“Wallace!” Solaris exclaimed from down a hall to the right. “I’m not going in here alone.”
“Yes, dear…” I mumbled before hurrying after him. I could’ve sworn I heard Magda giggle again.
Into the formal parlor we went, and the six people inside popped up out of their chairs and bowed. They looked… Yeah, they looked like folks heading to a ComicCon cosplaying as wizards. Each one wore robes in earth tones with matching pointy hats and curly-toed shoes—that did not have heels.
I pointed at their feet with my eyebrows raised, and Solaris rolled his eyes.
We were encouraged onto a couch, and the questions started before I’d fully sat down.
“What is your name and astrological sign, sir?”
“Wallace Michael Crowne. Capricorn.”
They were clumped together in front of us and now whispered amongst themselves. I wasn’t sure they were speaking English and couldn’t imagine why that information had caused so much discussion.
“Do you recall what the ring looked like prior to entering it?”
“Um, yeah, there were dark gray vesicular basalt in a rectangular shape with purple and white flowers growing in between them. I thought maybe they were rue-anemone, but they were the wrong color and too late in the year for them.”
More whispering, and then, “Could you define vesicular basalt?”
“Oh, it’s a volcanic rock that’s pitted with a lot of tiny cavities from trapped air as it cooled.” I knew a lot of mostly useless information and had been very into geology as a kid.
So much more whispering until one of them asked, “Was the ring the same when you arrived?”
“There was no ring,” I said on a chuckle. “I was falling from the sky.”
One of them literally squawked, and all of them looked shocked. Should I have arrived inside another ring?
A man recovered and asked, “How far up were you when you began to fall?”
I blinked at him for a second because the distance hadn’t even occurred to me as I hurtled toward the ground. “I’m not sure,” I said politely, “but I hit His Highness pretty soon after arriving.”
