The Red and Blue Field of Flowers
The stretch limousine came to a large parkway that formed an even larger plaza. Seven winding roads branched off the plaza—three to the east of the property and four to the west—with the road continuing on to the north toward the main Morrison Estate.
The limousine took the middle road leading east. The road circled round, and then it happened. Kathleen felt her eyes become heavy. Streams of red, followed by streams of blue, flooded her vision, and she felt herself falling.
It felt like she fell for quite some time, and then she was standing on a black plain. It was silent and still, and her body felt numb, as if static was flowing through it.
Then she heard crisp, strong footsteps. First it was like someone walking with casual purpose down a long office hall, then, as they neared, they began to echo. In the end, Kathleen was not sure how many people were walking toward her.
A light shone from nowhere, illuminating a small table with two chairs.
She smelled loamy earth and mint, and a whisper softly brushed her ear.
"Come. Sit. Talk with me. Understand why I cannot allow you into my house."
Before she heard the voice, Kathleen had known it was Margaret Morrison-Willen speaking to her. She stood quietly for a moment, unsure what to do. The echoing steps steadily got closer and closer.
Her heart began to pound inside her chest, and her mind seemed to be pulled away from the moment. Everything slowed, and she saw a woman with black hair and dressed in intricate earthen robes—her back to her. The woman spoke as she slowly turned to Kathleen, and her voice forced Kathleen to calm.
"Don't trust any of them. Just gather what you can. We have to figure it out for ourselves, Kathleen. Can you hear me, Kathleen?!"
Kathleen was nodding in slow motion by the time Selene had turned around to her. As soon as she did, Selene nodded as well and faded away like heat distortion above a calm fire.
Kathleen's mind slammed back to the black plain. It was jarring, and she brought her hand to her head, even as she walked toward the illuminated table.
She had to gather information, and she could not do that without moving forward.
Margaret Morrison-Willen smiled as she stepped from the darkness, as if she had been waiting for Kathleen to move first, her heels still clicking against the black nothingness.
Kathleen and Margaret sat at the table at the same time. They looked at each other in silence for a long while. Margaret's smile widened as she spoke—the smell of mint flowing around the magical spell.
"I cannot allow you into my house."
Kathleen blinked several times, waiting for further information.
None came.
"Your Gran has given permission."
"I know, but she doesn't understand."
"That you just want Elias to be happy?"
Margaret froze. The space became icy cold, and once again, they said nothing to each other for a long moment.
"I cannot allow you to enter."
"Are you sure Elias is happy? Could he be doing this only to ensure your happiness?"
The space became even more frigid. Kathleen's breaths came out in misting gusts, and her fingertips seemed to freeze.
Margaret's entire form twitched, as if she could not maintain her shape. Her face seemed to stutter and fade, just to calm and reform. A high-pitched whine reverberated across the space, and Kathleen thought her ears would bleed. Then there was silence.
Kathleen opened her eyes and saw Margaret.
It was no longer Margaret. The apparition had changed into a tall pool of sentient, sparkling blue fog.
"Go back. I do not want you in. MY. HOUSE!"
Even as the black plain shook, everything calmed.
Kathleen took a deep breath, and when she opened her eyes, she was sitting, cross-legged, in the vast field of red and blue flowers.
Margaret's scream blasted her directly in the face—even though she was nowhere to be seen.
"You want my house?! Find it!"