Magepyre
an excerpt

[opening paragraph!]

Lord Kemadurn streamed out of the palace. There was no other word for it – he had long flowing dark hair, and long robes, stylishly tattered into ribbons on the hugely trailing sleeves and tails, and had an overall pointed, thin appearance that made him look like a stick laden with dark streamers, struggling forwards through a high wind. He made no rustling or flapping noises, and yet when he turned suddenly, as he was apt to do, you would almost expect to hear the sudden snap of the ribbons, as they were forced to abruptly change direction.

[My favourite scene! :D]

Caroline, unable to take it any longer, jumped to her feet. “Right, I’m going to go looking for him! You three stay here…”
“Are you sure you should go on your own?” one of the maids asked.
“Yes,” Caroline said, although she had no idea why – she just felt… compelled… “You stay by the fire, and when I find Edward, I’ll ask the people holding him to let him go, and send him to fetch you. Then we shall expect a proper breakfast. Or lunch. And then we can be on our way!”
“Don’t get lost!” they pleaded with her, as she headed to the door.
Assuring them that she wouldn’t, she left the dining hall.
The chandeliers were extinguished now, but with the light of day streaming in from windows both seen and unseen, none of the corridors looked as gloomy as they had before. Caroline, once again following a compulsion she didn’t realise or question, headed up the main stairs in the hall, although she was thinking quite clearly that Edward wouldn’t have gone this way as she did. Somehow, she managed to arrive at the conclusion that this was still the best way to go.
She walked down the corridor that lay straight ahead, ignoring the closed doors on either side of her, although normally she would have loved to open them up, and go through each one by one, seeing what other secrets the castle had contained within it. She walked right past a large pile of bags – those that had been hung over the saddles of the horses. She saw them, and thought that she was glad that she had seen them – the horses were safe, it seemed to say to her. She wasn’t sure what it said about Edward, but to see the bags all piled so neatly was greatly reassuring to her. Hungry as she was, though, she walked right past, without a thought to stopping, or even to going back with as much as she could carry for the maids still waiting for her.
She walked until she turned a corner. Then she looked back, and found that the corridor she had come down had vanished, to be replaced with a blank wall about eight foot back from where she stood. Oddly, she wasn’t bothered by this. She kept on walking, now feeling less purposeful, although still with none of the worry she should have had. She began looking into the rooms that lay on either side of the corridor – here a library, there a sitting room, and now a long line of bedrooms… And then she reached the ballrooms. Themed, and all grand, all seeming to occupy far more space than she remembered the castle being when sat squarely on the ground in front of her as they had approached the night before. And yet, there were two or four on every straight stretch of corridor, and even when logic dictated that turning a corridor and being confronted with a door on the inside side should lead to a room you had already seen, it would be a new room there, of a wildly different theme to the one she had seen there before.
Many of the themes were magical or strange, forests or alien landscapes painted on the walls, stars and moons, and suns and flowers, fish and underwater and mermaids. Or else the theme was more imperialistic, portraying some of the stereotypes of whatever culture Thydéria had dominated lately, ancient ruins and historical themes leaping out from the walls as well. She was mildly offended by a depiction of what she suspected might be Ourian, as it showed it as a very simple, backwards country. Still, there was a theme that seemed to mock what she understood as present Thydérian high society life style as well, so she felt a little placated.
Between all these were a few which were just purely grand, with red drapes and gold walls and smooth wooden floors unpainted, but shiny, and inlaid with patterns of dark wood.
She found herself drawn to these in particular, and in the end she dared to step into one of the largest “plain” rooms that she had encountered. Here she stepped cautiously out to the middle of the floor, and looked around, eyes taking in all the details of the room, all the gold and finery and polished dark wood seeming understated after some of the gaudy rooms that she had passed recently. She spun around experimentally, as if testing the floor for dancing.
When she’d turned a few circles, she stopped, suddenly aware of eyes on her. Standing in a door that had been half hidden by the scarlet drapes was the most beautiful person she’d seen – she thought that if it were not for the trousers and the fact his hair was only shoulder length at most, she could have been easily more confused about what gender he was. He had been leaning on the door frame, watching her, but now as her eyes fell on him, running over all his features over and over, hardly believing what she saw, he stepped forwards, moving smoothly and easily, more like some stealthy creature, for no human could move like that. He exuded confidence and sex appeal. As he drew close enough for her to look squarely into his silver eyes, she knew this was where all the magic that had been compelling her and drawing her in since she had set foot in the castle had been coming from. Her eyes glanced over the pointed ears, her brain failing to make the connection for the time being.
He reached her, and instantly took her hands – she was entirely unresisting – and swept her into a dance. She wasn’t aware when the music had started, only that she could now hear it, sweeping and beautiful, suited for both the grand ballroom, and the wild, spinning dance that she found herself in. She couldn’t explain how she knew what steps to take, or how on earth she managed to predict each of his graceful moves, so that she was only swept off her feet when the dance asked for it… And she had no idea how long she had been dancing. It was dreamlike, and yet at every moment there were too many hints for it being real – every brush of his hands on her waist, the feeling of his strong arms under her hands… The tiny details in his ice-like eyes… It was all just too much to be an imagining.
She found that the dance has slowed, that they were doing not much more than stepping around the room together, far closer than they had been before. She couldn’t have broken the eye contact if she’d wanted to. She leaned in closer, wondering what those soft lips could feel like. His arms slid tighter around her, pulling her in. But her eyes were locked on his, and that’s why she saw them flicker and look briefly away, and then back to her, with an almost imperceptible note of alarm.
She stepped away from him, feeling the spell break. “You don’t want to kiss me,” she said.
He shook his head, “I’m sorry… I can’t…”
They stood there, awkward. Seconds stretched out.
“We could just be friends?” Caroline suggested.
He laughed, and the laugh was more naturally endearing than any of his magic had been, she could now see. “Leave, now,” he said, “Running down the mountain in the dark with no lantern is safer than staying here. Take what friends are left, and flee.” He turned, and fled back through the door that he had come from. Caroline watched him leave, feeling a pang in her heart for seeing something so beautiful gone from her sight. And then she too turned and ran.