The Maze House (#3)
Home is Where the Heart Forge is
This story is a shapeshifter and this version feels the most true so far. It’s also been the most fun to write. Is this its final form? Maybe. Share your insights in the comment section, and who knows, your feedback might help this story realize its wholeness.
Drop into the adventure with The Maze House #1 and #2
Jaym - Continued
140 years since the Shift
Jaym stared into the distance as red threads encircled the sun, constantly shifting around its circumference. Oh, right! The sun is visibly different now, this change coinciding with the Shift. Existence for every living being on the planet was forever altered in an instant, but the sun carried on as if it were just another day, and for an entity of such monumental scope and longevity, maybe it was.
That strange old/new sun seemed brighter today to Jaym, but this might have been a side-effect related to this being his first time outside of Thrice Great. Freedom in the air, limitless in a way that made his heart hurt; bittersweet at the thought of never seeing Sindri again. Jaym brought his attention back to the train station, on the present, rather than on what could no longer be.
Floating at one hundred feet above the ground, the eight-sided station gently swayed as if resting on water. A central pillar with a spiral staircase supported a flat roof. Transparent polymer siding offered a panoramic view. A detachable elevator provided access from below.
Stations were spread out across the world, each slightly different in design while looking like massive I Ching hexagrams. A single train car was docked above; the different segments designed to depart from their respective stations and link together en route to the Maze House. There was no set schedule to the train’s movement—it could leave in a few hours or sometime in the next few weeks. The three Veins had collaborated to construct the train and because of this fusion none knew exactly how it worked.
A sharp whistle spun Jaym around. Nobody in sight.
A rustling of feathers turned him back the other way. So black as to shimmer bluish in the sunlight, a large raven observed him. The bird tilted its head and whistled again.
“Amazing,” said Raven. “This station. The train. The last, or maybe the first, great united human project.”
“Do all animals talk out here?”
Raawwk, croaked Raven. Okay, thought Jaym, the stress of the last few days is hitting me harder than I realized.
“Now that you’ve met her,” said Raven. “What is your impression?”
“Wha—? Who, exactly?”
“The Goddess.”
Could a bird do air quotes? Jaym definitely detected sarcasm.
So it was Her—the Queen of Silver. The figure in his yard who’d wanted to make a deal with his brother.
“Speak up,” said Raven. “Cat got your tongue?”
Could a bird wink? Did this bizarre guest know about the White Lion as well?
“She seemed…pushy.”
Raven squawked with laughter. “Soft, soft, soft! Speak the truth!”
“Dangerous. She seemed dangerous.”
“If you only knew.”
A vision appeared in Jaym’s mind: A more solidified version of the Goddess, barefoot on an impossibly green hilltop beside grey-blue standing stones like those of Stonehenge. She wore a flower headdress with many wicked thorns amongst wild rose petals. A robed figured approached, face shadowed by a hood. A long grey beard visible. The standing stones shifted into the chiseled columns of a temple. Landscape greenery darkened, hardening into paved steps along a rocky outcrop. Below lay a sprawling city and rolling waves on a sparkling sea. Inside of the temple the Goddess towered like a statue, wearing battle armour and holding a polished bronze shield as reflective as a mirror.
The temple scene blurred and now the Goddess was seated on a majestic throne, as dignified as an empress. She held a staff made of reeds bent into a hook shape. Her hair styled into elaborate horns and secured by an eight-pointed crown. The vision changed once more as the throne room vanished to reveal a swathe of night sky filled with unfamiliar constellations.
In this eerie starlight ran a young woman, hardly more than a girl. There was a panic to her breathing as she glanced over her shoulder. A brightness ahead carved a section out of the darkness. She leapt for this swirling light, four wings unfolding to propel her into the opening.
Jaym gasped, choking on his saliva.
“What does She want with my brother?”
“The only thing she wants. A way back in.”
“In?”
“In, out it’s all the same.” Raven cocked its head. “Still playing the game.”
“What game?”
“Here comes one who thinks he knows the rules.”
The elevator clicked into place, the doors opening to reveal a young man.
“Take my luggage,” said the newcomer. “The train could leave any moment.”
Raven had vanished without a trace.
“Hurry up! Help me or get out of my way.”
Acting on reflex, Jaym hoisted a suitcase and followed the newcomer up the spiral stairs.
Outside, buffeted by the wind, Jaym noticed that the other guy wasn’t carrying anything; he just strolled into the waiting train car as if he owned it. Jaym took a moment to observe the train—it’s exterior supposedly made of living fibres that regrow and require zero maintenance.
“Let’s go!”
Jaym crossed the threshold and the doors whooshed shut. A purring like a thousand intrigued cats came from beneath his feet as the train car raised itself off the platform. Jaym slid the luggage over to its owner.
“Your welcome. Why couldn’t you carry it yourself?”
“I was Alexander the Great in a past life so I don’t bother myself with basic tasks.”
“Who dat?
“The greatest conqueror to ever live.”
“Huh, and here we are, riding the same train to nowhere.”
The other’s sneer transformed as he observed Jaym.
“You’re an Adept,” he said. “Where from?”
“Thrice Great. I’m Jaym, by the way.”
“Torion. I’m from Rubido. What about your family? Where were they before the Melt?”
“Lagos.”
Torion nodded to himself and looked out the window.
“And yours?”
“Miami,” said Torion, apparently finished with the conversation.
Jaym took a seat across the aisle from Torion and watched the landscape blur until dozing off as night fell. He woke to sunlight bouncing on waves and crimson algae blooms. They must be getting close. A lone crest of land jutted obstinately out of the blue, which he guessed to be the upper portion of Mount Olympus. Suddenly, a swarm of dark objects appeared from all directions, rapidly approaching like wingless dragonflies.
Individual train cars shifted into place with uncanny harmony, responding to an order only known to these living vessels. Jaym’s jaw dropped at the beauty of this silent symphony.
“Now that’s a neat trick,” he said.
“Vibes,” said Torion in awe.
Smooth and baffling as sleight of hand the train cars aligned, gently undulating past the mostly submerged mountain. The significance of their location struck Jaym with equal doses of wonder and worry.
“The Maze House,” he said, “think you’ll get in?”
“I’ll get in. I don’t have a choice.”
“The karma is strong with this one.”
“Karma ain’t got nothin’ on my family’s pride.” Torion chuckled. “My old man expects me to reach the Heart Forge even though nobody’s even seen it.”
“That’s what you get for claiming to be the updated version of Alejandro the Bigly, or whatever.”
Torion smiled ruefully, his head drooping from invisible pressure. Like gravity or internalized expectations, sometimes the invisible has the most tangible effects.
“I know what it’s like to have a father who thinks they know best about everything,” said Jaym. “I also know that we always have a choice. Nether, I even chose to get myself banished.”
“That was you?”
Jaym bowed his head with fake seriousness. “Maybe you were someone important back in the day, maybe not, but in this lifetime I’m the famous one. So from here on out you carry your own shit and make your own choices.”
“Cheeky.”
“And for what it’s worth, I hope you don’t get in.”
They laughed, unaware of the abrupt darkening outside. A thick, swirling mist shrouding their final destination. An unnatural shade of purple, the mist had risen several generations ago in the sea north of the drowned city of Alexandria, hiding the secrets of the Maze House while attracting explorers.
There was a great door here and all who entered were yet to return.
Torion flinched, his face tightening in pain. He clutched at a pendant, muttering an invocation. Sus, thought Jaym, he doesn’t seem like the praying type. A talisman perhaps? A magical item hiding in plain sight as an ordinary object like his scroll housing the Invisible Man.
The train swooped low, pulling them into their seats as it glided into the station. When the doors opened he’d see Technics and Naturalists, who until this point were like characters out of a fantasy story.
“Moment of truth,” said Torion, moving to standing.
The doors eased open and they stepped into destiny.
Jaym touched down on an oval courtyard of cut stones, as ancient as they were precisely placed. Pulsing softly, the stones seemed to alternate between absorbing and reflecting light as if they were breathing.
The train settled onto a long platform parallel to the island as the courtyard filled with seekers. High above, a pale smear of sun filtered through the shifting mist. A short distance away loomed the Maze House.
He felt a sudden fear of the train doors slamming shut behind him, but they remained open, ready to accept and return the denied.
“I’d seen photos,” said Torion. “But they don’t convey the feeling of being watched.”
Jaym was busy gawking at the crowd, marvelling at the slender Naturalists in their colourful, flowing outfits and the facial piercings adorning the chiseled features of the Technics. The tantalizing gravity of the Maze House inexorably drew his attention away from the others. Presence thundered out of the structure, seemingly enlarging in Jaym’s awareness, its many spires scraping against the mist like an immense set of scales designed to measure his worth. Eggshell white walls and shuttered windows gave no insight as to the interior; a blank slate to help imagine yourself living here. Prime real estate with a significant red flag: fourteen bathrooms, marble countertops, original crown moulding…except that it’s ever so slightly (definitely) haunted. But those aesthetics! A vibrant garden cascaded from the front of the house to the edge of the courtyard, where a huge arch of rough stones stood as gateway.
A woman, a Naturalist by the looks of her long braid entwined with vines, marched toward the arch. The crowd fell silent with judgment, filling with anticipation and jealousy. The space within the arch shimmered, fluctuating, neither here nor there. She never broke stride, stepping into this portal with her eyes open. The arch-space solidified for an instant, halting the Naturalist in her tracks. Her shoulders drooped, confidence wilting.
No debate or negotiation, just a simple resounding “no.” No way around or under or over. Just NO. With eyes downcast she returned to the train.
A pair of Technics went next, strutting toward the arch in faux leather jackets. Again, the space activated and solidified. One man laughed and the other swore.
Questions battered Jaym: Why not these people? What did the arch want?
Fortune favours the bold. Better to be curious than cowardly.
He walked as if in a dream, carried by an uncanny momentum. From the corner of his eye he spied a streak of black followed by a squawking of rough laughter. The stones of the arch remained unbothered by his hopes and anxieties.
Close enough to touch the seemingly open space, he noted a fractal elegance more intuited than seen. Jaym gave thanks for this opportunity, holding no personal expectation to the outcome. He breathed deep and took the plunge.
His shoe pressed down on soft, green grass. He was through. Without sign or sensation.
Jaym spun around to be confronted by a queasy opaqueness blocking the view of the courtyard and train. No going back. No welcoming party either. Facing the blankness of the backside of the arch, he waited.
A woman came through, older than him with fibrous threads and feathers lacing her hair.
“Hi, I’m Jaym. Guess we—“
The Naturalist brushed past him, entering the house without a backward glance.
“Cool. We’ll talk later.”
A Technic came next; runty compared to the others of his kind. His left eyebrow stitched with gold rings.
“I’m Jaym,” he said with an extended hand.
The Technic smirked and backhanded Jaym’s greeting. “L3on,” he said, while stepping past.
“Is that a name?”
Jaym waited for what felt like hours in the filtered light of the garden. Finally deciding to enter the Maze House, he faced the door.
“Weak,” said Torion in disappointment.
Jaym glanced back to see his fellow passenger from the train. Torion stared at his own palms as if they’d betrayed him. His luggage hadn’t survived the passage.
“You waited,” said Torion.
“Welcome to the Maze House.”
Torion closed the distance and embraced Jaym, surprising them both.
Jaym gestured to the circular door engraved with a spiral. “After you.”
Torion eyed him suspiciously.
“Be that way. Might as well get used to being second place.”
Jaym swung open the door and entered into darkness.
