Sun Kissed

12. The Hideout (EDITED)

12. The Hideout 

Sofia arrived at a crossroads. One path was plagued with a family of wild ferns and creepers. It looked barely passable. She considered the second, smoother option, where the sun made a way through the surrounding vegetation. The ground was even and paved over with moss.

She took the left fork.

The refined road reunited her to the river. Nestled on the shore was a meager wooden house, most of which was consumed by creepers and parasitic flowers. There were fishing supplies on the deck, which extended over a small inlet. The water here was at rest.

Sofi walked up a short set of stairs to the front door. The wind made it swing inward. One look inside and it was clear that the home had been abandoned. The den and the kitchen were practically one room. There was no fridge, just a sink and an oven with a stove top. Sofi didn't see a washroom anywhere either. Forgotten clothing lay about the floor. Men's clothing.

Old fishing nets dangled from the ceiling. Leaning against the wall next to the sliding glass door was a solidly built speedboat. A solitary couch occupied the center. It looked like an apology.

Peeking out from underneath the couch were the toes of someone's boots. Sofi fished them out, took in their prime condition, and sat down to try them on. All the while, she considered how they would make passage through the forest so much easier. The boots fit better than she expected.

When Sofi put her feet back on the floor, something in the crease of the couch bit into her thigh. She dug up a book. Sofi grimaced as she used a cushion to wipe away the film of dust. Then she studied the buried treasure.

Peter Pan.

As soon as she opened a page, something slid onto the floor. She reached for what was apparently an old photograph and turned it over in her hands.

It's me.

Sofi's reflection somehow lived on the photo's surface. Logic did its best to soften her panic. The hair on the girl was too short. The eyes much lighter than her brown ones. But everything else was there, from the nose she inherited from pai down to the dark mark high on her cheekbone.

Sofi folded the photo in half and repurposed it as a bookmark. There was no point in entertaining the idea that it was anything but a coincidence. She forgot about the haunted photograph, opened the book to the first chapter and lost herself in the pages.

~

By some gracious stroke of luck, Citrus made it beyond the ballroom and onto the palace grounds. Once she left the courtyards, there were no more traces of party guests. The marble and limestone gave way to giant ferns and other garden edifices.

Citrus wandered into a lone observatory, one of several scattered throughout the grounds. She liked this one the best because of the cracks in the stone and blankets of lichen hugging its outer walls.

Citrus disappeared inside and climbed its tight spiral staircase. When she reached the circular studio at the top, she froze and choked back a gasp.

The room was already occupied.

The moonlight pouring in through the rectangular opening in the ceiling illuminated a shape that Citrus knew all too well.

The Shade.

Master's faceless disciple traversed the palace in some kind of infinity cloak, what with its ability to hide every feature and melt around his feet like black cream.

With the turn of his head at her arrival, the cool air sang with metal. Whoever was under the cloak must have been wearing an impressive amount of jewelry.