Honeymoon Manor Ch 01

"Well, we're here."

Ricard looked askance at his adventuring partner. The lanky Felix had his hands on his hips and was grinning across at an entirely empty clearing.

Ricard looked to the clearing. Then back to Felix.

Ricard cleared his throat. "Ah... Felix, your imagination can be

ineffable

at times. I fear I'm quite lost here."

"Hm?" Felix glanced back at Ricard, looking puzzled. He gestured in front of them. "Didn't you say we were looking for a ring of stones?"

"Yes?"

Felix's head tilted. "Really, now, Ricard. And here I thought

I

was the airhead."

Ricard blinked. His head tilted.

And he slapped his forehead. "Of course! Felix, you sparkle-headed old spider, there must be some sort of illusion going on here! And you, with your resistance to magic, clearly stand immune." He grabbed Felix by the arm, grinning. "Is it true? A ring of seven white stones?"

Felix chewed his upper lip, examining the clearing closely. "I count eight."

"Ah. Don't be absurd, Felix." Ricard chuckled, tapping the map. "The map

clearly

marks for seven. A magical number—the number fortune follows like a lovesick waif. Definitely seven."

"Uh, maybe, but I'm just saying, there's eight stones."

Ricard let out a low sigh. "Felix, I don't mean to malign those fine hazel eyes of yours, but perhaps your numerical facilities have turned pixillated."

Felix considered this, and carefully re-counted. Twice. "I don't think so, Ricard."

Ricard's mood was souring a little, but he tried to stay in good spirits. "Felix, Felix, Felix." He rubbed his eyes in a great show of weariness. "I'm telling you, the

map

clearly says—"

He opened his eyes and glance down at the parchment. He took a beat.

"Does it say eigh—"

"Ah, yes, Felix, I can confirm that it is eight. No need to doubt yourself." Ricard patted Felix on the arm. "We

are

, indeed, here. This is the Honeymoon Manor."

"Great!" Felix strolled into the clearing, lips pursed. "But you heard the part where it's just a bunch of rocks, right?"

"It's an

enchantment

, my leviathan friend." Ricard smiled, following after. "For now, yes, we have essentially acquired the world's most isolated rock garden as our winnings. But give it an hour..." He pointed up at the stars above. "Give or take a few cricket chirps, and there it will be, open and ripe for ravishing. The Manor reveals itself to those who wait."

"Really! How polite of it." Felix glanced to the side. "Say, what's that?"

Ricard took no notice at first, reaching out and feeling cold, rough stone where he could see only air. Fascinating. Delightful. Lucky he'd taken the lug along, really.

He looked over just in time to see Felix approaching a ring of bright crimson mushrooms. He coughed. "Ah, Felix, I wouldn't—wouldn't advise—

stop

!"

Felix froze in place. Stiff as a board.

He didn't actually seem to be doing anything aside from looking at the mushrooms. Still, Ricard couldn't be too careful with Felix. For a locksmith, the fellow had the discretion and patience of a highly impetuous goldfish—the sort that failed to flee when its owner tapped the glass, and instead stared openly and defiantly at the owner until the owner felt ashamed and walked away. And all the culinary caution of a goblin's fiance.

"Poison?" Felix asked, still not moving. "Because it's not as though I meant to

eat

it, Ricard. Really, now." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a sucking candy, giving it a crunch. "I was just wondering if it was one of those 'fairy rings' we're supposed to watch out for."

"And not go near."

"Well, yes..."

Ricard gave a long-suffering sigh and smile. "Felix, those fairy rings are

back doors

. We are trying to avoid going through them."

"Why not?" Felix stuck his tongue into his cheek, but he took a step back from the ring of fungi. "It seems to me—and, well, I'm not any sort of expert on doors, after all, except the locked kind, which I'm actually a licensed expert on—that if one is, uh, breaking into a house, the back door might as well be a

front

door."

"

Not

if you don't have those doors listed on the map you need to navigate the anti-euclidian mass of winding rooms that the Honeymoon Manor can become, Felix." Ricard reached up to Felix's shoulder and gently tugged the fellow away. "We already have our route, and it involves the front door."

"Okay, sure." Felix shrugged. He had an exaggerated and elegant way of shrugging that, with his long arms, rather reminded Ricard of a bird about to take flight. "So we wait?"

~~~~

They waited.

Felix ran out of candies an hour or so in. He was, naturally enough, feeling rather sour about it.

After about a half-hour more of unbearable tedium, the Honey Moon rose over the forest.

Felix immediately saw where the moon got its name from. It was a particularly orange crescent moon. Only occurring on the weeks after the Autumn Equinox—quite an abnormally lucky happenstance, Felix had to admit, considering when they'd gotten word of this place—it was quite a pretty sort of thing.

And as it rose, Felix's eyes shone with understanding as the eight stones blended together and poured through shadows, spiraling like liquid light atop one another, rising and swirling and spreading.

And soon, the clearing was a little bit larger than it had been before. And in front of them was...

"The Honeymoon Manor," Ricard breathed. "Lovely."

Felix stared up at it. It was a true feat of architecture. A true marvel of the artistic inspiration of the Fair Folk. Piers, wings, walls, all that important stuff.

"Why do you suppose they call it the Honeymoon Manor," Felix remarked, "and not the Honey Moon Manor? With a space separating the words, I mean?"

Ricard ignored him. Felix grimaced.

Probably folk customs simplified it,

he told himself, trying to push the intrusive question away for now.

Because there were definitely priorities. Carved into the strange mix of ivory, wood and stone that made up the Honeymoon Manor were many windows of crystal and diamond and glass, and many strange crooked chimneys...

... but there was only one door.

The door was cut out of a single sheet of aspen bark, but it somehow managed to be the most elaborate and strange part of the whole house, covered in eye-like scars and knots that made it strangely difficult to focus on. Felix considered it skeptically. Not exactly a traditional door.

But the seventeen locks on it looked normal enough. He grinned, whipping out several lockpicks. His long, delicate fingers fiddled with some picks as fine as hairs.

"Felix, if you would do the honors?"

Felix stalked over and crouched down, considering the contraption. The locks were intricately connected to one another through fine brass weaving. It was actually really remarkable.

His brow furrowed. This was an amazing feat of engineering, but also a very frustrating one. It was a puzzle. No doubt, there was an order to the locks. Or perhaps he had to undo every single lock at once. Easy enough for the Unseelie Court, who could always find ways to cheat physics when it suited them, but a bit trickier for a humble ex-witchhunter.

And Ricard was probably not going to be quiet while he worked.

Felix got down on his knees and set to it.

"You know," he remarked, "I'm basically just breaking into someone's house right now. I keep feeling like a guard is going to start yelling at me."

"If a guard comes by, I'll just tell them you locked yourself out."

"I think you'll run if you see a guard coming at us."

"Felix!" Ricard sounded offended. "Really, now. That's a real rough scratch against our friendship!"

"Oh, sorry, Ricard. Love you too." Felix was only half-paying attention. "So are we just gonna steal the furniture and paint rude words on the walls, or...?"

And then he had it. It was actually very easy, once he looked at it the right way. His eyes lit up, and in seven deft motions, every single one of the eighteen locks gave a

click

. He sprang to his feet, beaming with satisfaction... and nudged the door with his foot.

It slowly creaked open, beckoning them inward.

"Well done, Felix!" Ricard clapped him on the shoulder, his manner once again sunny and bright. "Ah, only fair that you get first crack at whatever we find in the foyer, no?"

"Sure, sure." Felix sighed and nudged his way in.

The walls glistened in the moonlight from a prismatic sunroof overhead—or moonroof, Felix supposed. The windows bore a kaleidoscopic effect, creating dazzling colors reflected on the walls and floor. They had entered into a vast foyer carved of marble, crystal and color.

The foyer was quite well decorated, too. A critical burglar might have dared to call it 'cluttered'. Aside from the twenty-five doors—Felix noted the number without even pausing to count—there were brooding statues and grimacing gargoyles and all sorts of things seemingly designed solely to send properly paranoid adventurers into fits of panic. A great crystalline chandelier hung from the ceiling, and from each candle sparked a different-colored pastel flame.

Several statues in particular, depicting gorgeous humanoids all in various compromising positions, had Felix suspicious. They had been placed in the far corner, but the breeze from opening the door blown the sheet off of them, exposing them to his view. Each had an expression frozen in a look that could only be described as rapture.

At the center of the room, a gorgeous fountain depicted what appeared to be a gorgeous woman of solid crystal. She had one arm outstretched, as if waving an unseen handkerchief, and was clad only in a toga that covered exactly half of a breast and two-thirds of a groin.

She was incredibly beautiful, and the light shimmered with special radiance as it struck her. Small transparent cubic crystals covered the edges of the basin.

Felix turned to Ricard. "Don't touch any statues," he instructed firmly. "Especially not the salt mephit in the fountain."

Ricard nodded. "Understood."

"Great. Just making sure."

A sputtered, indignant,

"What!"

came from behind him.

Felix turned back as Ricard entered behind him.

The salt mephit in question was plainly incensed. Her sculpted features were screwed up in an expression of impotent rage as she leaned over the edge of the fountain. "How did you know?" She waved both arms, the toga exposing slightly more than half a breast in the process. "I go through

all

the trouble of getting a lovely little fountain, I

cover the fucking toys with a sheet

, I even got rid of all the stupid

pepper shakers

the little fairies left in here, and—

AGH

!"

"The fountain is very nice," Felix said, trying to be kind, "but it's a little, uh, big. And in the middle of everything. It's clearly the centerpiece of the room."

"The chandelier is bigger!" the Unseelie elemental fey snapped.

Felix shrugged weakly. "I mean, by volume, but it's, um..." He gave an awkward laugh. "I mean, we've all heard of cursed fey fountains, but what kind of a fey inhabits a chandelier?" He gestured with another, slightly more awkward laugh. "Especially one with such, ah, tacky colors."

The translucent woman glowered. "I

made

that chandelier."

Felix blinked.

"Ahem." Ricard stepped ahead of Felix, smiling broadly. "I think what my less-than-charismatic crane fly of a colleague is getting at,

madam

, is that you are the most eye-catching object—or, well, subject, of course—within this room by far. Your sheer beauty renders inconceivable the notion that Felix, who is a tragically inattentive fellow at heart, could spare more than a passing regard for the...

intricacies

of that lovely chandelier."

"Hm." The salt mephit's head tilted curiously. She seemed somewhat mollified. "Well,

you

are a polite sort."

"My curse is amiability, even in the face of all danger." He cut an elaborate bow. "Why, even in this most unfamiliar of locales, I cannot help but be stricken to chivalrous countenance by the sight of a lovely fey wonder such as yourself." He winked.

"Ha." The salt mephit's sour demeanor was rapidly melting away, replaced with a look of sly delight. "Well, you have the most

lovely

smile, don't you, young mortal?"

"It pales even before your frown."

"

Oh!

Such a charmer." She tapped her chin, a thoughtful grin slicking onto her symmetrical face. "I could just freeze that smile in place and stare at it all day long."

"Um..." Felix raised a hand, smiling apologetically. "Sorry, but I was wondering... what are you actually doing out here in this nice little foyer?"

"Indeed!" chirped Ricard, not even missing a beat in the change in direction. "Why would such a specimen as yourself be consigned to door greeter? Has the Court lost its high regard for the wondrous crystal mephits?"

The salt mephit grimaced. "Well.. let's just say that not everyone here cares for my particular

flavor

these days. Which reminds me." Her eyes seemed to sparkle in the moonlight, and she cast Felix a winning smile. "I hope it's not too

forward

, but the two of you are...

delicious

to the eyes."

"Oh! Well, thank you." Felix stepped closer, examining the fountain itself. Curiously, the fluid was not water, as he'd first thought, but some sort of milky liquid.

"It seems you have taken an interest in me, as well." The salt mephit gleamed beneath the many-hued lights like a stained glass window. Her eyes glistened with rapturous attention as she beckoned. "So why not a kiss?" she cooed.

"Um, sorry, miss." Felix smiled politely up at her, abandoning his inspections for a moment. "You're very lovely, but that's not going to work on me."

He couldn't deny a small hint of regret. The mephit was gorgeous. Her body really was perfectly sculpted, and her curves, only partially concealed by the toga as they were, were prodigious and enticing. But he knew that kisses from a mephit would bind the mortal to see the world through their element—in this case, salt—and he didn't much fancy turning into one of those statues in the corner.

"... Mm." The mephit sounded distinctly put out, but she put on a brave face and giggled as she turned to Ricard. "Hello, there, lovely one! Perhaps

you

will be less cruel to a damsel in distress?"

Ricard sounded unsteady for a moment as he answered. "Ah... well, with the... it would truly be my pleasure, madam, but I fear it won't do." Felix turned as he tugged his collar back, revealing the brand. "I happen to be spoken for," he said, giving a bashful grin.

"Oh my

fucking gods

." The salt mephit rolled her eyes as the vulgar mortal speech crossed her transparent lips. "So this is really how it's going to be? Very well, then." She returned to her pose atop the fountain. "Have fun solving the puzzle, boys!"

"Puzzle?" Felix's eyes lit up, and he straightened. He examined the many doors in front of them, then walked back, glancing over Ricard's shoulder at the map. The route was clearly visible, but as he drew nearer the door they were meant to go through, he noticed a strange lock contraption atop it.

The lock itself seemed fairly ordinary. Massive, yes. Devoid of a visible keyhole, oh, definitely. But it wasn't the lock that caught his attention.

No, it was the door. Specifically, a very tiny door inside the larger one. A big, bulky sort of metal box protrusion about a foot from the floor. Felix rubbed his chin. A small rectangular pipe led up from the box and into the large padlock.

He examined the tiny door-box, eyes narrowed. "How peculiar," he murmured. He glanced back at Ricard and the mephit, then returned his focus to the door. He could see an even smaller lock on the tiny door, but surely not even the deftest of hands could manage that. It wasn't even the size of a shrew's paw!

"This could take a while," he remarked aloud. "Ricard, maybe we should start, um, gathering stuff up."

"What, really?" Ricard looked around, sounding miffed at the idea of that kind of busywork. "This is really more of an attic than a treasure trove, Felix."

"I'm

right here

."

"Oh, pardon me. What I meant was that the, ah, the value of this trove lies not in gold, but in the delicate, skilled hands that crafted it."

"Oh, just fuck off."

She's very foul-mouthed for a fey,

Felix thought idly.

Then again, she is a salt mephit.

"I know, Ricard, but you don't have anything better to do. This could take hours for me to work out."

"More waiting?" Even without turning, Felix could tell Ricard was making a face. "Much as I know you enjoy these games, Felix, I fear a more expedient solution may be required. Miss?"

"

What.

"

"I don't suppose you could..." He cleared his throat. "I mean, ah,

Titania

would surely be distressed if I were to..."

"

Really?

" The laugh the mephit gave was half rueful, half giggly. Felix turned to watch her. "You're going to pull that on the first room?"

"Ha." Ricard bowed. "I would not be tempted if the bearer of secrets was not so fair."

"Mm." The salt mephit smirked. "My, I can see why Titania favors you. She's a real sucker for saps like you."

Ricard winked. "Well, one might say that some sap can be sweet enough to entice even a Fairy Queen."

Felix rubbed his belly sadly. He already missed his candy. A sucker sounded pretty good right now.

"Fine, fine. I wouldn't want to be the center of an

incident

." The mephit winced, as if the prospect left a bitter taste in her mouth. "It's really quite simple."

Felix took out a notepad and pen. They always said that.

"This building is split." As the salt mephit spoke, she gestured, forming images with her hands that Felix couldn't quite understand. "One size won't fit. If you want to travel through, you need not one, but at least two. Two doors, one hole, two sizes. When one descends, the other rises. Bold, wise, strong, quick, the Honeymoon Manor has claimed them all. If you wish to ravish the Manor, one must be normal—but the other quite small. Sink, sink, sink, drink. Take a sip, and start to—"

"In non-rhyme, please?"

The salt mephit stared at Ricard, who gave his most innocent, endearing smile.

"One of you has to drink some milk," she said, rolling her eyes. "It makes you small, so you can take the key through and unlock the doors for the other. The keyhole is... look, let's just say it's non-Euclidean and pretend that explains it. The locks aren't normal locks. Really, a big part of unlocking is just... going through. Usually we have fairies do it."

"Non-Euclidean." Ricard snapped his fingers and nodded wisely at Felix.

"You know, if you hate puzzles and mind games, it's not too late to go loot a dwarven tomb like the other adventurers."

"And miss your fair visage, dear lady?" Ricard asked sweetly.

"You realize that mephits are

strong

, right? I'm made of rock, even though I might seem soft when I want to. I

could

just beat you up. Or the tall one, anyways. The Unseelie would probably banish me for crude behavior, but, I mean, they already made me a glorified doorstopper. I mean, really, I don't see why..."

The mephit continued to mutter darkly as Felix walked over, filled his waterskin with milk, and stepped back hurriedly. "I think we've made her a bit mad," he whispered to Ricard as they approached the door together. "We should get a move on. I'll bet she won't be the only fairy frustrated by us when we're done."

"Oh, no doubt." Ricard chuckled, then gestured to the door. "So, I take it you grasped the puzzle?"

"I think so." Felix frowned. "One of us has to go through and basically undo the security system from the inside. And possibly also pick some weird locks. So..." He raised the waterskin. "Which one of us is going through the 'keyhole'?"