AMARYLLIS

A loud clattering sound ripped me from my sleep. Sitting upright I took in the cramped confines of the first floor where the odds and ends, like lengths of rope, old sheets and buckets, a broom, extra chairs and tables, and more things I had yet to look over, were kept. I sat upright, feeling the faint warmth from the lights shining in from the stairwell.

Chicory clambered awkwardly into view at the doorway holding two large wooden boards and a bag which rattled with each unsteady step he took.

“Help. Please,” he said.

He was still wearing that ridiculous frilly blue shirt and bottoms.

I stood from the mattress and reached Chicory’s side and took the heavy boards from him.

“Thank you,” he said, puffing with relief.

“What is this?” I said.

“It’s chess - the game I told you about,” said Chicory, “Guy said I could bring it up to play with you.”

“...I don’t know,” I said.

Chicory looked defeatedly to the stone floor.

“I just don’t feel like it…” I said.

Chicory’s eyes shifted from side to side as he looked around the storage room as if in hopes of finding a way to convince me to play with him.

I knelt down and placed the boards gently on the smooth stone floor, and then I sat back onto the mattress. Although Chicory wanted us both to stick together in the tower, which meant staying on the top floor with the others, I had asked Hress if I could move to the first floor. The mattress had been in good condition when they first brought it down for me to lie on, but after four days of me sleeping and sitting on it, it had become as flat as a pancake.

I brought my knees up to my chest, hugging my legs.

Chicory sat beside me the same way I was sitting on the mattress.

“Are you going to come down today?” he said.

“Not today…” I said.

“Do you want to go upstairs to eat?” He said.

“Maybe later,” I said.

“We could swim in the bath?”

“I’d rather not.”

I also didn’t want to try explaining to him why it wouldn’t have been appropriate anymore.

“What do you want to do?” he said.

“I’m okay here,” I said, “Don’t worry about me. Why don’t you go and see the others?”

Chicory’s bottom lip trembled.

“Chicory,” I said, feeling myself becoming annoyed, “Don’t come here to see me if all you’re going to do is pester and cry. I’m fine here on my own.”

“But, but,” said Chicory, “You won’t come down stairs and see anyone.”

I cocked my head to get the crick out of my neck and to have a reason not to look at Chicory’s upset face.

Across from me and a little to the right a silver plate was propped up against a broken cart wheel.

A young woman was looking back at me from the silver plate.

She was pretty, with hazel eyes and dirty-brown hair. My gaze lowered to the bottom of the plate, where my reflection showed the simple flowery dress Angelica had given me because my old clothes no longer fit.

“I’m going to go downstairs,” said Chicory, “Is that okay?”

“It’s fine,” I said, “Have fun.”

Chicory lingered for a moment and then hurried down the winding stairs. As soon as he was gone I let out a sigh and buried my face in my hands. I sat in silence for minutes on end with the same questions playing on my mind.

What were Birch, Rowan, and Willow up to right about now? Were they happy with Miss Waxwood as their new mother? How were the guardians and the orphans handling our sudden absence? New guardians had started at Rootwork since Miss Waxwood had left, but I was sure there would still be an unlucky orphan chosen to be head-child to take my place.

My thoughts moved on to thinking about the strange, but also kind people that lived in the tower. Since our arrival they had treated us kindly. I was glad to hear the things Chicory had done with them during the time I was suffering from the Dawn Storm’s agonizing changing of my body. I had listened closely when Chicory had told me in minute detail every little thing that he had seen and heard since Hress and Red had found us in the blue-leaved forest; as far as I could tell there was no sign that Hress or anyone else in the tower meant us any harm, or had bad intentions. It didn’t really matter whether I trusted Hress or the others because it wasn’t like Chicory or me could fend for ourselves on Wish Mountain anyway. We had to hope, as always, that we would be alright.

Because there were no windows or clocks to tell me what time of day it was, the best way I could tell the time was through Chicory’s visits.

Around an hour after Chicory left to go downstairs I caught a glimpse of him cheerfully climbing the tower steps on his way to one of the upper floors; he then returned to the storage room several minutes later carrying a large silver tray with delicious smelling food on it.

“This is a ‘fried-chicken-burger’,” said Chicory, holding up one of two that were on the tray.

“Fried…chicken?” I said.

“It’s really good,” said Chicory, “Try it.”

I took the other ‘fried-chicken-burger’ and opened the bread at the top. Inside there was lettuce, and tomato, and some strange looking orange sauce on top of the very crispy chicken.

I took a bite.

“Mm! It’s so good!” I said with my mouth full, tasting a rush of crunchy-spiciness.

“Do you have the ‘cola’?” I said, after I had finished eating every last crumb of the fried-chicken-burger.

“Here!” Chicory said, handing me the metal cup filled with the sweet bubbly black liquid.

“Ah!” I said, feeling content after taking several big sips of the strange drink.

When we were done Chicory and I both took long strips of greasy rabbit meat from the end of the tray; Chicory hadn’t bothered putting them on a plate of their own. It was good, normal food, and I knew we were lucky to have it even if we were being spoiled with better tasting meals from the second floor.

After we had eaten Chicory left to take the tray back upstairs.

It seemed Chicory had given up trying to convince me to leave the storage room for the day, because after he had taken the tray upstairs I caught another glimpse of him on his way down to the ground floor.

An hour later I saw Guy, the blue faced skeleton-man who was wearing a strange shiny coat, walking up the stairway from below; he came to a stop at the doorway ahead of me.

“How’s it going?” he said.

“I’m okay,” I mumbled back quietly.

“What did you think of the chicken burger?” He said, giving a smile which looked like it was intended to be friendly, but with his back to the stairway lights his gross face looked like something from a nightmare.

“It was nice,” I said.

“Fried chicken’s the best,” he said, and sighed and seemed to lose himself in thought.

I expected him to continue on his way but he continued to linger.

“Amary?” he said, but then corrected himself, “You don’t mind if I call you Amary, do you? I could use Amaryllis if you prefer?”

“Amary’s fine,” I said, quietly.

“Okay, great,” he said.

He looked about the storage room and then stepped inside.

“I understand things are difficult for you,” he said, “There’s a lot to take in.”

After a moment’s thought, he said, “I’m not exactly a pretty picture to look at, am I?”

I felt my mouth firm up.

“It’s fine,” said Guy, “I’m not upset about the way I look. Not really. Believe it or not I actually chose to look like this.”

“You did?” I said. trying to keep the sudden shock from my face.

“It’s a long story,” he said, “I could tell you about it sometime if you like. Though it’s not a story that I can drop on someone in casual conversation, you know?”

“I don’t…erm…know,” I said.

“Can I ask you a personal question?” He said.

I hesitated, but after a moment, I said, “…okay.”

“Are you afraid of us?” said Guy.

“No,” I said, honestly, “I just…want to be alone.”

“What are you afraid of?” said Guy.

I didn’t know what to say.

“Sorry,” he said, “I can be too blunt sometimes.”

I looked over to my reflection in the silver plate to look at something other than him.

“Do you mind if I sit down?” he said.

I didn’t object.

He sat down on the floor in front of me with his legs crossed, his body made faint dry popping noises as he settled.

“The Dawn Storm’s a real pain, ain’t it?” he said.

I gave a small nod of agreement.

“Where are you from?” I asked, my voice a whisper, curiosity taking a sudden hold of me.

“Stowchester,” said Guy, “Stowchester, London, England.”

“Where is that?” I asked.

“Far away from here,” said Guy, “There’s no easier way for me to explain it than that.”

My gaze lowered to his shiny coat, then lower to his odd black trousers and his red-and-white shoes.

“Does everyone dress like you where you’re from?” I asked.

Guy let out a sudden cackling laugh.

“Yes and no,” he said, “These are what are called denim jeans, and this coat is, well…let me check.”

Guy pulled on the metal strip in the middle of his coat, and to my surprise the coat opened down the middle where there wasn’t a parting before.

He took his coat off and read from a small white label close to the collar.

“It says ‘smooth woven fabric, synthetic filling for lightweight warmth, one-hundred percent polyester’,” said Guy.

The shirt he wore was also unusual, because it had a painting on it of a black egg that was oozing a light-green liquid. Somehow it was both a painting and a shirt at the same time.

“What is that?” I said, pointing to the egg.

“Oh this?” said Guy, “It’s from my favourite movie.”

He could see the new question on my face.

“You don’t know what a movie is,” he said, more to himself than to me, “It’s....like a play. Do you know what a play is?”

“No,” I said.

“You know, people acting? Playing pretend?” said Guy.

“Oh,” I said, nodding, “I know what playing pretend is. At Rootwork we’re allowed to play the last day of every week.”

“Right,” said Guy, “But a play, where I come from, is something adults do as well. People play pretend for a living.”

“How do they do that?” I said, finding the idea of people playing pretend for a living more absurd than the blue-skeleton man sat in front of me.

“Well,” said Guy, “Some people are really good at playing pretend. People like to watch them play. Do you not have theatres in Rose Kingdom?”

“I don’t know,” I said, my voice lowering to a whisper, “All I’ve ever known is Rootwork.”

“Then don’t you think you’re rather lucky?” said Guy, “To be whisked away from that place and brought here?”

I looked away from him.

“Sorry, here I go again, personal questions. I just can’t seem to help myself,” said Guy.

“You do ask a lot of personal questions,” I said.

Guy smiled; his teeth having a yellowish colour.

“How are you okay with being Accursed?” I asked.

“To be honest with you I’m not okay with it,” he said, “But if things go to plan then I won’t be stuck like this forever. One day I’ll be my normal self again and I’ll return home.”

“What plan?” I asked.

“Have you ever heard of The Wish?” he said.

“Yes,” I said, “Everyone knows about The Wish.”

“Right,” said Guy, “Everyone in all the Kingdoms knows that, if they can somehow reach the top of Wish Mountain, they’ll receive an all-powerful wish of their heart’s desire.”

He had said, more or less, the lines everyone knew. Of course I had heard it many times myself over the years too.

“Well,” said Guy, “Those of us in this tower are going to be the ones to do it. We’re going to claim The Wish.”

“Really?” I said, “How?”

“I could explain,” he said, “But it’d be a long story.”

“How many long stories do you have?” I said.

“A lot it seems,” said Guy, “You’ve come in at the middle. A lot has happened. It’d take a good while for me to tell you all about it.”

Guy looked about the storage room again.

“This place stifles my storytelling capabilities,” he said, faking a yawn and stretching,

“Perhaps sometime we could go for a walk outside the tower and I could tell you a nice long story? Would you like that?” he said.

“Yes,” I said, surprising myself with how eager I was.

“Great,” said Guy.

“But,” I said, “What makes you think everyone here can make it all the way to the top of Wish Mountain? Isn’t it…impossible?”

Guy was silent for a moment, and then he said, “Sure, but if anyone is going to be able to do it, it’s us.”

“But why?” I said, “What makes everyone here so special?”

Guy opened his mouth to answer but he was suddenly interrupted.

“Guy!” said a squeaky voice behind him.

It was the frog-man, Albie, standing at the doorway.

“Hwess is leaving to go hunt, do you want to go with him?” said the frog.

“Oh,” said Guy, turning to look at Albie, “Yeah, sure.”

Guy looked back at me.

“I’ll tell you some other time, okay?” he said.

“Okay,” I said, my voice barely audible.

“Huwwy he’s leaving,” Albie squeaked.

Guy stood up, waved goodbye and then followed Albie down the stairs.

I sat watching the doorway, and for the first time since I had been brought to the tower, I had an itch to no longer be left alone.