The Autumn Prince

56. Foundation

Something sealed the opening above, cutting off light from the upper level and casting us into near complete darkness. Nobody moved or spoke, but on either side slender hands squeezed my fingers, seeking reassurance. For a moment I felt like Charlie touring a deceptively Utopian chocolate factory, only our candy maker was a sadistic Oompa Loompa with unkempt red hair and mischievous eyes.

"How far down does this go?" I asked, more to break the silence than out of curiosity.

Finn's silhouette turned and I could sense the smirk on her face. "Patience."

After what seemed like an eternity, the cage stopped and I heard the gate open, though we hadn't stopped on anything solid as each movement caused the floor to shift under our feet. Something stirred and light flared, revealing torches set into alcoves on either side of a high, dark hallway. She waved us onward and we carefully fell in behind her, new flames appearing as we approached them. We passed a pair of heavy, wooden doors, one on either side, but didn't stop until the path opened into a chamber only vaguely illuminated by the light behind us, so wide we couldn't see the far side.

"Sorry for all the theatrics," she said without a hint of remorse, "but I didn't want to spoil the surprise early." With that, she snapped her fingers and the hallway torches went out, plunging us into absolute night. Rachel cursed and everyone huddled closer together.

"Finn?" I called out, but instead of an answer, light and color erupted from every side, as though our world had been reborn. Nothing could have prepared us for what we saw.

"Oh my god," Katherine whispered, her voice quaking slightly as her nails dug into my arm.

The circular chamber was enormous, a vast cavern, supported by granite pillars and crowned with a vaulted ceiling like a cathedral. The stone path under our feet circled the hall through a broad garden, while narrow waterfalls spilled from openings high in ivy covered walls, collecting in streams that converged in the center, vanishing beneath a raised, stone dais, at least fifty feet across. Tall arches, evenly spaced between the waterfalls, led down additional halls.

The light came from a huge, glass globe floating in the center, high overhead, but it rippled and shifted as though it wasn't the source, but only a reflection. The effect was ethereal, as if we stood at the bottom of a crystal lake while waves danced playfully overhead.

I'd never seen anything so beautiful. It felt sacred, created for beings more worthy than mortals, but something about it unnerved me, something out of place. The girls were beatific, mesmerized by the wonder around us. Tears flowed freely down Katherine's cheeks.

"Can I assume you like it?" Finn asked. Katherine swallowed hard, dazzled by her surroundings.

"It's more than I could have dreamed."

The dais was made from white marble resting atop short, thick columns like a tier on a wedding cake, it's top lined with pillars and matching benches. The girls rushed down the path, across a little wooden bridge, and up a set of polished stairs to reach it, turning as if trying to absorb everything at once. In the very center sat a white, raised gazebo, a formal perch fit for royalty.

"What is this?" I asked when I found my voice.

Finn shrugged. "She asked for a ballroom." When I didn't respond she gave me a sharp nudge. "Stop being so suspicious, Tom. They're enjoying themselves, aren't they?"

That was an understatement. The three of them were enchanted, transformed by the environment into fairytale princesses, gliding over the floor as if caught up in a dance.

Then I realized what was bothering me. The great hall radiated age. It hadn't been built in three days, it was older than the warehouse, far older even than the fortress that had come before. Looking closer I could see balconies in the walls, though there were no windows behind them. There was also evidence of newer construction, repairs that proved my hypothesis. Why had Finn lied, and what did she stand to gain from it?