“Have something to eat.”
Julien, his hand closing around some strange fruit, shakes his head. He trains his eyes on the beautiful, nymph-like creature in front of him. “Not hungry.” He forces the words past his lips.
I refuse to just take anything anyone puts before me.
“Have something to drink then. Wet your tongue and throat before you tell me more about yourself.” The woman gestures to the wooden cups placed next to the rough, bark coaster containing unrecognizable fruits of different sizes. “That’s it, Glaecyra, easy does it,” she adds in an undertone.
At a wave of her hand, the cups and coaster had grown straight from the trunk of the willow-like tree they were sitting under. The drooping branches, meanwhile, had blossomed and grown the fruit that had ripened all in a matter of seconds.
“You are so tight-lipped. Am I bad company?” She pouts as she leans back against the odd willow.
Before Julien can stop himself, he shakes his head aggressively.
“I thought so.” She smiles sweetly, murmuring, “Entice slowly, Glaecyra.” Louder, she asks, “What is it then? Is the scenery not to your liking? Look around. Relax.”
Finally, Julien can tear his eyes away and study the environment beyond the few glances he got while being led by his companion.
They are lounging at the edge of a shimmering pond. It is quite large, filled with huge lily pads that could probably hold his weight. From among them, gorgeous lotuses in pinks and whites emerge like ballerinas in gorgeous dresses. At the centre of the pond is a rather tall, vase-like growth.
Julien looks at the sky and takes a deep breath. Instantly, some of the cobwebs in his brain start to dissolve. The maze. The flowers.
“There. Isn’t that better? Now, tell Glaecyra everything. And make sure to look at me. That makes conversation so much more…engaging.”
Julien turns back without meaning to and is shocked.
Her healthy green is now matte and riddled with grey and yellowish spots. Her hair is a collection of thorny vines. And the once-golden eyes are now pure white.
Something tells Julien to run. Far. But he cannot. Something locks his muscles in place. It is eerily like the effect of the Lancer Bee venom. But not quite. He can blink. And he could look around just now. He’s just…unable to get up and away. Alarmed, he does not respond.
Glaecyra’s viny hair coils like a nest of agitated snakes. “You’re still resisting me? How? You should be spilling your guts right about now.”
Now, why should that be the case? Is she mind-controlling me? But if she is, I wouldn’t be thinking this, right? Julien remembers wanting to go to the castle but being unable to. Having no control over his limbs. Maybe she was partially successful? How do I react? Just say something!
“What do you want to know?” he blurts out.
The snakes settle down as the corners of her mouth curl upwards. “Good, that sounds more like compliance.” A dangerous glint becomes visible in her eyes. “See, Glaecyra. Give it some air to breathe, and the plant will take root.” She gently touches Julien’s arm. “Now. Let’s start with…where do you come from?”
Julien thinks rapidly. “Earth. Another world.”
“Yes. That much I know. Tell me more about how you got here.”
I can do that. For the next ten minutes, Julien talks about the tarot reading at the museum and the assault on the mysterious stranger who handed him a package that turned out to be a deck of cards, one of which transported him to Tarotia.
While he narrates, he notices the gradual return of muscle control in his fingers. The outlines of an idea take shape.
As he concludes the tale by describing the crossing over through a gate, he can close his fingers on the hilt of his sword. At the same time, Glaecyra snatches a cup from the coaster and brings it to her lips with a trembling hand. The wooden cup creaks audibly. She takes a sip, then slams it down.
“Useless, useless, useless!”
Great! Now I just need to frighten her a little. Keep her off-balance. Julien smirks as he casually draws his sword. “Maybe you should phrase your questions more specifically. What did you mean by here? Here in Tarotia? Here in the garden?” He rests the blade on his lap, directed at Glaecyra.
She gasps. “How?”
“Am I able to draw my sword?” He notices her recoiling. “Don’t worry. I’m in a good mood. And since I have some questions of my own, I am willing to trade. You already asked three. I’ll be generous and only ask one for now. What are you?”
“But the pollen…”
“The pollen? Not effective, I suppose. Now, if you would answer my question.”
“Why should I?”
“You don’t have to. But I think there is still more that you want to know about me.”
The vines on Glaecyra’s head whip around. “Disrespectful, smug…” She stops herself. Julien can see her jaw clenching before she relaxes it into another smile. “So, that’s how you want to play it? Very well. I am a Dryad. Current mistress of this garden.”
“Good. Now you get another question.”
“From which of the four kingdoms did you come?”
“None of them.”
“What?! But how–”
“It’s my turn again. Where are those kingdoms you mentioned?”
“The Kingdom of Blades lies north of here. The Kingdom of Cups west. The Kingdom of Wands south. And the Kingdom of Pentacles east.”
So, what is here in the middle? Another kingdom? Why did no one mention it before? Who lives in the castle? Julien senses an opportunity. Pondering his next question, his eyes wander upwards, and he suddenly notices several sets of jaws hanging from vines. They look a lot like carnivorous flytraps. That does not look good.
“You are quite the puzzle, young fool.”
“Call me Julien.”
“Julien.” The dryad nods. “You’re stronger than I thought you were, but you did not come from one of the kingdoms. It makes me wonder.” Her eyes suddenly open wide as he sees her visibly tense every muscle. “Do you serve the Major Arcana?”
The Major Arcana? “No. Who are they?”
“Who are…? Only the guardians of this world! Or they used to be before most of their might got usurped. How long have you been here, anyway?”
“About a week. Seven days,” he elaborates at seeing Glaecyra’s confusion.
“You’ve been here less than a tenday? Talk about a waste of time. You don’t know anything. You’d be a worthless servant, and you’re not even worth killing!” The coaster and wooden cups dive into the pond. “Easy, Glaecyra. Find your calm space. At some point, someone more useful will come along and give you what you need to shift the balance of power in your favor.”
“So, I can go to the castle now?”
“Maybe. When my pets are done playing with you.”
The large Venus flytraps launch instantaneously and strike in a flash. Julien executes two flawless Crescent Sweeps, and several heads go flying. But there are just too many. Their jaws close on Julien’s shoulders. He cries out as the sharp, needle-like fangs pierce cloth and skin. They pull him up into the air and, like some ragdoll, throw him from one to the next.
He tries to free himself, hacking at the vines that inhabit the trees around the pond, but he can’t get a good angle.
A peal of laughter rings from Glaecyra’s lips. “Now that’s how I like to see my fools: dancing around. You know what? I’ve changed my mind. Just for making me fish for answers, I’ll feed you to Amphydora.”
The jaws toss him around a bit more as they move closer and closer to the vase-like growth in the centre of the pond. And with one final swing, Julien sails through the sky. To his amazement, the plant lifts a lid-like leaf on the top. Crying out, Julien disappears into a giant pitcher plant.