Strangers in a Strange Land

“For goodness sake,” Mirielle said dryly, looking at the mopey expression on Michael’s face.

“You don’t understand,” he stammered, on the verge of breaking down.

Mirielle snorted, “I don’t understand?” she asked, spreading her arms wide. “What is it I’m missing?”

He shook his head.

She was amazed at the transformation. Only a short time ago he was full of bravado and ready to throw her to the ground, now he was acting like a child. Walking over to him, she grabbed him by the shoulders. “Listen, whether by design or a complication of the magic, getting all maudlin right now isn’t going to help,” she said.

He nodded, sniffling.

Releasing him, Mirielle turned to take stock of their surroundings. The only light in the room was coming from a small lamp on a night table beside the bed, a colored silk handkerchief over the shade muting the light considerably and giving everything a weak orange glow. In the shadowed distance, she could make out the rough shapes of several pieces furniture.

“We need to hide,” he whimpered, eyes turning to look toward the head of the bed where the pillows were. There was some sense of recognition there, but he couldn’t place the feeling of familiarity.

She turned her head. “Why?” she challenged.

Swinging his head back to face her, “Because it’s the only thing we can do,” he blurted, his eyes narrowing as he remembered how she had handled him.

“What we need is wait and talk to Lucie to see if she can reverse what has happened,” Mirielle said, pacing along the edge of the bed. “She told us there could be unusual side effects,” she added.

Michael laughed, out loud and raucously, the sound halting her in her tracks.

Turning, “What so goddamn funny?” she demanded, shaking her head as she held him with her eyes.

“You think our situation was an accident?” he asked, laughing anew. “I see it all with such clarity now.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” she questioned, walking back toward him.

“I think Lucie did this to you on purpose,” he replied, jabbing a finger in her direction. “Did this to us. She was never going to help me, she just lured you into a trap and you fell for it, hook, line, and sinker and I got dragged along. This is all your fault!”

“Why on earth would she possibly do that?” she asked, shaking her head. “Try and trap me?”

Michael nodded, eyes wide, “Because you wanted the power. She set you up and you took the bait. She’s a lying cheating gypsy just like her ancient great grandmother and she screwed you just for the sake of fucking you over. That’s what they do!” he asserted.

“Nonsense,” she scoffed, screwing up her pretty face. “That’s a really ignorant statement,” she stabbed back, but the seed of doubt had been planted. Had she been set up? Why? What possible reason could Lucie have to shrink her down? Mirielle shook her head. This certainly wasn’t how she expected the circumstances to play out. Not by a long shot.

“Think about it. If it was an accidental reaction to meddling with the curse why are we here in this place? Why aren’t we still at your apartment while she’s trying to figure out what went wrong? She moved us. Why? Answer me that,” he stated, tone mocking.

This wasn’t her room. Was it Lucie’s? “Maybe as a result of the side effects Lucie needed to bring us to her great grandmother,” Mirielle speculated, shrugging her shoulders. “To undo it.”

Shaking his head in negation, “Nope, but soon you’ll know,” he taunted, like a petulant child.

“What? Soon I’ll know what?” she asked, hands on hips, stance defiant.

“How it feels to be tiny and helpless and used for someone else’s amusement,” he answered nodding, leering grin on his face.

“We’ll see,” she replied dismissively.

“You’re wasting your time. There is no hope of rescue,” he spat.

She snorted, “I think I liked you better when you were blubbering,” she scolded, bringing her knuckles up to her to mime crying.

“Ridicule me all you want, it won’t change the fact that you are now in the same predicament as I was,” he replied, nodding.

“Whatever,” she replied, refusing to be drawn into his rant.

Chuckling, he nodded, then suddenly his expression and demeanor changed, turning to one of sheer fright. Turning his head back and forth quickly, some grim realization dawning on him, he started shaking his head rapidly from side to side, “No, no, no,” he shrieked, dropping down onto his knees, face in his hands.

“What the?” she asked, confused by his abrupt comportment change. She moved closer to him while he continued to shake. Had his mind actually broken?

“No,” he sobbed.

“What?” Mirielle asked.

“I know now exactly where we are,” he said, lifting his head out of his hands and looking up at her.

“Okay, where are we? Lucie’s place?” she inquired.

“This is Madison’s room,” he said.

“Your sister’s room?” she asked.

He nodded.

“This is her bed,” he replied.

Mirielle frowned. Madison’s room? Why would Lucie bring them all the way back out here? Putting a hand on Michael’s shoulder, “Well that’s good then. At least we know where we are,” she said. Was it good?

“No,” he breathed, “It means I’m back where this all started,” he added, red eyes darting around the shadows like a frightened rabbit.

Shaking her head, she decided she needed to leave, leave Michael to wallow. Circumnavigating the perimeter of the bed, she figured it was entirely possible to get to the floor if they wanted to by jumping to the night stand and lowering themselves using the cord on the lamp. The question was why. Running away would do absolutely nothing to rid herself of the curse. Lucie had brought them back out to the Hearst home for a purpose. The next logical step in her mind was to find out what that purpose was.

There were the sounds of footfalls coming from beyond the darkened frame of the door, light spilling in from beyond as the portal swung inward.

Suddenly the whole room was bathed in pale yellow light from the fixture at the ceiling.

She could see the gigantic form of Madison as Michael’s sister entered the room.