Going Your Own Way, but with Magic

Chapter 4

I was in the field, and now I'm somewhere else. A tunnel. No visible walls, or ceiling, or floor come to think of it. Don't think of it. Right now would be a good time to start screaming. No, it would be a bad time. If I start screaming I'm never going to stop. Focus on something. Focus on small details. There's no visible walls, but when I walk into the smoke it becomes solid at a point. So it's enclosed. It's all very pretty. The smoke is changing colour subtly, shifting between magenta and royal purple. No, magenta isn't quite right. It's a bit more muted than magenta. There are strands of what looks like gold thread running through everything. The colours should be garish but they aren't. My body is still mine, I can still move it. There's no sense of movement, no wind in my hair. It's cold, though. My shoes are scuffed and muddy. They look a bit out of place. They're also standing on nothing. Don't think about that. This is the worst possible time to freak out. I think I'm going to be sick.

The tunnel spits me out and I land on the floor. I make myself stand up and start running. I don't know where. I can barely see and my limbs are oddly heavy and then I pass out.

I wake up in the softest bed I've ever slept in.

I get light-headed from sitting up quickly, so I force myself to sit still and look slowly around the room. It looks like some kind of self-consciously quaint hotel for tourists who don't really want to see other parts of the world. The cushions, blankets and rug are pastel green and gingham patterned, for god's sake. The curtains are hanging off the wall decoratively – there are no windows. Still, it's a very pretty cell. There's a vase of white flowers that I've never seen before that are so perfect I stare at them for much longer than I mean to. There's no fireplace, but it feels like there should be one. The table looks like solid oak, so if the legs snap off they could be a decent weapon in a pinch. Maybe I could pull down the curtain rod thing and hit someone with it.

Who the fuck am I kidding?

I'm 16. I have no idea where I am. I have never done anything out of the ordinary (apart from magic). I am as out of my depth as it is possible to be. The hopelessness of this entire thing hits me almost physically. Nothing to do but wait, and think. Think about how I ended up like this and if I'll ever go home and if I even have a home.

Don't be so fucking pathetic. I stand up and it hurts so much you'd think it's the first time I've ever done it. Now is not when I give up. I am going to survive through sheer spite and stubbornness. I'm going to get home, wherever home is.

Right now, I am going to get out of this room. I prepare to break down the door. First, I push the door, and am almost disappointed when it swings open smoothly. Well, that's one objective complete.

The corridor I'm in is so beautiful that I stop running. The ceiling is high enough that I swear it's partially behind clouds. Gardens in shades of green I've never seen outside of paintings sit outside of windows made of some kind of crystal that splits the light into beams. There's a lot of gold and a lot of amethysts. There's something painted on the ceiling, one of those religious scenes that art history people go on about and I've never quite seen the point of. There's something wrong with it. It's moving. Not much, but definitely more than paintings are supposed to move. The people are breathing and the animals are eating grass. That snaps me out of it. And reminds me that I really should be running.

I know how to run. Head straight, eyes fixed on a point, always on my toes no matter how many times I try and correct it. Running through a cathedral thing I got whisked into through a magic portal with everything still hurting from whatever drug I was given is a slightly new experience. But the running stays the same, thank god.

I end up in some kind of chamber. There's not even a transition, the room starts around me and then there are voices telling me to stop running. I am poised to ignore them until I realise I'm about to run into a wall. Fine, but not because you told me to.