Chapter 8 #2
I find an empty table in the corner and sit, eating mechanically, my mind elsewhere. Processing. Trying to make sense of this place, these rules, this new reality I’m stuck in.
The house responds to desire. To want. Can the same be said about its master?
That’s what Auric said. And if he’s right, if this place really operates on some kind of emotional logic rather than physical navigation, then...
Then what?
Then I’m more trapped than I thought. Because if the House can sense what I want, what I need, what I desire... then it knows things about me I don’t want anyone knowing. Least of all an angel of greed who’s already shown he can read me better than I’d like.
I finish eating, drain the last of my coffee, and sit there for a moment staring at my empty plate.
I need to explore and understand the boundaries of my cage, even if it’s dressed up as freedom. Need to find the restricted sections Croesus mentioned, map out where I’m allowed and where I’m not.
Mostly, I need to figure out how to survive this.
I stand, leaving my dishes on the table. A servant materializes from nowhere to collect them, still not looking at me, still silent, and heads back into the hallway.
This time, I don’t try to memorize the path. Don’t try to apply logic or reason.
I just want.
I want to explore. Want to see what’s hidden. Want to find the boundaries.
And the house...responds.
The hallways shift subtly. Not physically, the walls don’t move; the doors don’t rearrange themselves. But something changes. A feeling. A pull. Like the house is guiding me, showing me where to go.
I follow it.
Left. Right. Straight. Down a hallway that gets progressively narrower, darker. The gold fades to tarnished bronze, then to iron. The warm light dims. The air chills.
And then I hit a wall.
Not a literal wall. A door made of heavy black iron with no handle. Just a smooth metal surface and a sense of wrongness radiating from it like heat.
I reach out and press my palm against it.
The rejection is immediate and visceral. Something pushes back, not physically, but energetically, as if the door itself is saying no. Not for you. Never for you.
I pull my hand back, cradling it against my chest even though it’s not hurt. Just... cold. Like I had touched ice instead of iron.
“I wouldn’t try that if I were you.”
I don’t jump this time. I was half-expecting Auric to show up again. Is he following me around?
He’s standing a few feet behind me, hands in his pockets, looking at the door with an expression I can’t quite read. Wariness, maybe. Or respect.
“What is it?” I ask.
“The vault.” He doesn’t take his eyes off the door. “Where Lord Croesus keeps his most valuable acquisitions. Souls, mostly. Some artifacts. Things he doesn’t want anyone else touching.”
“Can you open it?”
“I can. You can’t.” He finally looks at me. “That’s one of the restricted sections. Try to enter without permission, and the house will discourage you. Violently.”
“How violently?”
“Depends on how persistent you are. Anywhere from extreme discomfort to actual bodily harm.” He tilts his head. “Want to test it?”
“I’m good.”
“Smart.” He turns away from the door, starts walking back the way we came. “Come on. Let me show you the actual boundaries before you get yourself killed testing them.”
I follow, filing away the information. The vault. Restricted. Guarded by the house itself.
What else is Croesus hiding?
We walk for what feels like hours. Auric shows me the library, which is massive, filled with books and ledgers and contracts. Open to me, he says, whenever I want.
The gallery is lined with paintings and sculptures and artifacts I can’t even begin to identify. Also open.
The gardens, and yes, apparently there are gardens in this place, even though we’re in a pocket dimension that doesn’t seem to have actual sunlight. Lush, green, impossibly beautiful. Open.
The bathing pools, of course, there are bathing pools. Ornate, Roman-style, the water steaming and scented with something floral. Open, though Auric suggests I use them when I can be sure I’m alone.
And then the restricted sections.
Another iron door. “Lord Croesus’s private quarters. Obviously off-limits.”
A staircase leading down into darkness. “The treasury. Where he keeps the physical gold. Don’t even think about it.”
By the time we finish the tour, my head is spinning. The house is massive, far bigger than it should be, far bigger than makes any kind of logical sense. Hundreds of rooms, multiple floors, sections that seem to exist in different planes of reality entirely.
And I’m free to explore all of it.
Except the parts that matter.
“Questions?” Auric asks as we end up back in the hallway outside what I’m pretty sure is my room. Or a room that looks identical to mine. Hard to tell.
“Yeah. How do I know which door is mine?”
He points to the door directly in front of me. “That one.”
I look at it. It’s identical to every other door in this hallway. “How?”
“Because I’m telling you it is.” He’s clearly done with this conversation.
“You’ll figure it out. Or you won’t.” He starts to walk away, then pauses.
“Oh, and Raven? Lord Croesus will summon you when he’s ready to give you your first assignment.
Could be tomorrow. Could be next week. Time moves differently here, remember?
” He smirks. “Don’t get too comfortable. ”
And then I’m alone in the hallway, staring at a door I’m supposed to believe is mine.
I reach for the handle.
The door opens easily, and beyond it is the room I woke in. My bag is on the floor. My life completely reduced to a few belongings. I step inside and close the door behind me.
I’m free to move, Croesus said. Free to explore. Free to do whatever I want within the boundaries he’s set. But freedom with boundaries isn’t freedom at all.
It’s just a roomier cage.