Okay. Okay.
Now what?
Ahead of me, I still see a few wisps luring me closer.
Hmm…
Hey. I’ve come this far already. I might as well stick it out.
As if they can sense that they’ve got me well and truly hooked, the wisps glow a little brighter. More and more appear, though they’re still forming a noticeable line. It’s obvious they’re leading me somewhere, and when a cluster of wisps form together after I’ve been walking for about fifteen minutes, I figure we’ve arrived.
So, um. It’s a tree.
It’s a pretty big one. It would probably take three of me in order to completely wrap my arms around the trunk. It’s solid, too, with thick branches that are as empty as all the others. The bark is craggy, it has a bunch of knots and marks in it, and when I see the cluster of wisps forming near the roots, wafting a couple of inches off the ground, I let out a sound of surprise.
That… that’s a door. With a single panel with a tiny window and a wooden handle, no doubt that that’s a door. I’d put it at about eight inches high, maybe four inches across, and it’s built between the gnarled roots at the base of the tree.
That’s not all. Planted next to the door, there’s a toadstool that’s about half as high. It looks exactly like one of the mushrooms that made up the fairy circle that Saxon pushed me through only instead of there being a ring, there’s one single, solitary mushroom—and, unless I’m seeing things, there’s a teensy, tiny plate perched in the center.
Curious, I drop to my knee, peering closely. Oh, yeah. That’s a plate alright. And on top of it? Three minicircles that look like un-iced cakes.
One of the wisps breaks free from the glowing circle. It hovers directly over the toadstool, brightening the tiny cakes, bathing them in a soft blue light. No way it isn’t on purpose. The will o’ the wisps brought me straight to the door before illuminating a trio of cakes laid out like on a tray at a bakery. I know what it wants me to do. It’s pretty obvious.
But should I?
Hmm… do I stick around and wait for the mysterious rider to figure out which way I’ve gone, or just hope that Lewis Carroll might’ve been onto something when he wrote Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland?
You know, it seems crazy—but it’s maybe not such a bad idea. Even if the rider isn’t looking for me, I’m still a human in a world where I stick out like a sore thumb. It might be a trick—who am I kidding? This is Faerie so odds are it’s definitely a trick—but so long as the little cake-looking things aren’t poison, what’s the worst that could happen?
And it’s not like I haven’t already eaten random food that I found in this strange world. Within hours of first arriving in Faerie, I chanced upon a crystal tree that had pink apples growing on its branches. I’ve always been impulsive. I’ll often live to regret my actions, but that’s always something future Helen has to deal with. Present Helen can’t help but wonder what would happen if I chowed down on one of those little cakes.
No. No. There’s impulsive and then there’s stupid and it would be the height of stupidity to snack on food sitting out on a toadstool—
The ground shakes. Not enough for me to think earthquake, but that coupled with the echo of the hoofbeats is a pretty good clue that the mysterious rider is coming this way now.
And I still really don’t want to face him.
“Down the hatch,” I mutter to myself before grabbing one of the mini cakes with my right hand.
I’m still holding onto my sack of apples with my left. In case this works the way I suspect it will, I don’t want anything to happen to them. As fast as I can, I duck down, tucking the bag behind the tree, covering the muslin with handfuls of snow. Then, before the horse can come any closer, I pop the cake into my mouth.
Nothing happens for long enough that I begin to feel a little stupid. What did I think was going to happen? That I’d—
Holy shit.
It seems as if the world shoots up around me at the same time as I start to fall. Next thing I know, I’m flat on my back, a mushroom as tall as I am looming over me.
The door is a normal-sized door now.
It worked. It really freaking worked!
Hopping to my feet, I run to the door. Grabbing the handle, I give it a turn. I mean, what else am I going to do? I ate the cake for a reason. If I want to find shelter to avoid the mysterious horseman, this is my best bet, right?
I hope so.
Only one problem: the door’s locked. Because of course it is. Why wouldn’t it be? And, just like Alice, I didn’t think to peek around for a key or anything before I shrunk down to the size of a pencil.
On the plus side, if the horse catches up to me, at least it’ll be tough to see me since I’m so damn small. Then again, with my luck, one of the hooves will squash me and I’ll be nothing more than a memory.