Decisions To Be Made
~*~
This story is dedicated to all those who have suffered because of the tragedy on Tuesday, September 11. My heart goes out to those who had family or friends in Washington and New York.
NOTE: A warm thank you to everyone last person who read and reviewed my first story!! I'd love to say who you all are, but i don't think my memory can handle it....but THANK YOU!!!
It meant a lot :)
DISCLAIMER: I don't own any of the characters associated with "Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's The Lost World", but there are a few in here I believe that I do own…
~*~
Part 1
~*~
"Where is this damned heat coming from?" exclaimed a rather frustrated Marguerite Krux as she wiped the beads of sweat from her forehead. Her eyes roamed skyward to try and see if the sun had decided to peek out from the grey clouds above but she couldn't even see a beam of sunlight that might be the cause of the tormenting warmth.
The others around her rolled their eyes at each other and continued on digging up the plants that Summerlee had pointed out. His garden was in need of replenishing and who better to do it than the four most agile people in the tree house.
"Marguerite, you've barely dug up a full plant," John Roxton pointed out, gesturing his shovel to the half-exposed roots of the leafy bush that was at her feet.
She eyed the exposed vegetation that surrounded the hunter's feet and sniffed. "It's too hot to do anything that requires movement."
The hunter sighed, but the heat had gotten to him too, and he didn't feel like getting into any arguments. Instead, the soft sound of shovels scraping against the damp earth resumed, and Marguerite was left glaring at the rest of them.
"Since you all seem to be doing just fine here, I think I'll go get a drink," the heiress announced and stormed off in the direction that Veronica had pointed out before, not wanting to wait around for someone to try and stop her.
Fuming over the silent treatment that they had all given her, she stomped along the narrow deer trail, angrily swatting at the branches blocking her way. She was feeling more frustrated than normal as the heat wave the plateau was suffering continued on relentlessly. Even the apemen had taken a break from hunting the explorers down because of the sweltering humidity.
Marguerite could hear the steady trickle of the stream as she untangled a strand of hair from one particularly spiky branch. She sighed in relief as her beautiful grey eyes caught sight of the moist rocks surrounding the watery trail.
Gulping down the water, Marguerite splashed some on her face and around her neck to relieve the annoying sense of being overheated, relishing in the cool spray.
Feeling decidedly cooler, the heiress sat back against a tree, resting her head on her knees as she watched the stream run calmly on its way.
The crystal clear water seemed to call out as Marguerite formed an idea in her head. Biting her lip, she hesitated for a second than decided to go on ahead.
'Nobody's here to see you anyway,' she scolded herself, sliding off the confining boots and stockings, leaving them in a neat pile underneath the tree's shady canopy. Careful to keep from slipping, she dipped her foot into the stream, testing the footing below.
Satisfied with it, she stepped in and shuffled around, rolling her breeches up to her knees so she could access the deeper parts of the water, savouring the sense of feeling cooled off for once.
A snap of a branch in the background brought her back to reality as her head snapped into attention while she surveyed the surrounding forest.
"Hello?" Marguerite called out, "Roxton? Malone? This better not be one of your stupid jokes!"
Another snap made her jump about a foot in the air. Trying to place the exact direction it came from, she turned around, scrutinizing every bush and rock for anything that seemed out of place. 'Great. Just what I need, a peeping tom.'
"Veronica?" When no answer came back, the heiress tried a different tactic.
"Come out you coward and face me!"
Only a few birds called back to her question. Just to be safe, she edged closer to the rocky stream bank, one hand sliding up to meet her gun at her waist.
Just the feel of the smooth metal made her relax. Smirking to herself, she shook her head at her own reaction.
'Probably just some wild pig looking for food,' Marguerite thought. Yet-though she felt somewhat reassured by this thought-that didn't stop her from deciding to go back and see how the others were doing rather than wasting the day paddling.
The third crack sounded closer, and seemed to echo across the valley in which they had come hiking through as they followed Summerlee's directions.
Her nerves were on the very edge as she scrambled to the stream bank. If it was something dangerous, she'd rather have some footwear on when she ran than the bare feet she had now. It wouldn't do her any good as she ran from a raptor to stop along the way to pull thistles out of her feet.
In her pursuit up the riverbank, she was too preoccupied with her own worries to think about the slick stones underfoot until she felt her feet slipping from under her.
Unable to react in time, Marguerite hit the ground hard, her back screaming out against the sharp points scraping into her back. Her head snapped to one side as she went down, striking the rocks below, and for a long time, Marguerite's world disappeared into a pitch-black haze…
~*~
With a start, she sat up, feeling rather dizzy and out of place. Shaking her head a few times to rid it of the funny ringing feeling, Marguerite slowly got up to her feet. Instinctively her hand went up to her forehead, but she could feel no bump or scrape. Confused, she looked out into the horizon and got a jolt of amazement.
There seemed to be no end to the grassy expanse that surrounded her. No matter how much she strained, Marguerite could not see a single bump or hill destroying the seemingly perfect line of the horizon.
Feeling rather out of place, she averted her eyes to the more interesting part of the scenery. A large white mansion stood out against the flat lines, rising high above the golden stalks at its feet. A roof held up with two long columns shaded its high arched door. Tall windows were stamped all along the building's white walls, shutters put off to either side of the long glass panes.
Marguerite hesitated at the bottom of the marble steps, wondering whether or not it was the smartest thing to do.
'To hell with intelligent,' she finally decided, 'I want answers and this seems to be the most likely place to find them.'
Her footsteps seemed to ring out across the fields as she climbed to the door. Although there were shadows lazily stretched out, the heiress could not see-for the life of her-what exactly was causing them. The sky was as grey as it had been when she was in the jungle.
Upon reaching the door, Marguerite reached up for the brass knocker that hung from the white door. The knocker was in the shape of a horse head, bridled, as any carriage horse in London would be.
On her second knock, the grand door swung open, revealing a high ceiling hallway, as white as the rest of the house.
'Whoever lives here needs to need a serious decorator about this colour.'
Peering around the door, she found herself looking into the eyes of a woman who seemed to be just as intent on staring at her.
The woman was the first to regain her wits. "Welcome." Her voice was soft and feathery and reminded the dark haired beauty of a spring breeze of sorts.
Questions ran through Marguerite's mind as she tried to settle on something to reply. At last, she decided on one that would help to restore her train of thought.
"Where am I?"
The woman smiled, her clear blue eyes radiating warmth and a peculiar amusement. "That is not of any concern."
Feeling even more baffled than she had been upon seeing the house Marguerite pursed her lips in annoyance
"Well, who are you?"
The mysterious woman laughed, a light tinkly sound that ground at the heiress' nerves.
"You may call me Sophie."
Marguerite studied the petite woman who stood in front of her, assessing just exactly who she was. There seemed to be a warm air around her, as she smiled up at the stranger who had just intruded on her property. Sophie's eyes held no malice, only a welcoming shine that radiated off of her whole body. 'This woman can't possibly mean anything harm. She'd probably cry if she killed a spider.'
"Marguerite Krux," She introduced, holding out a hand. Sophie shook it just as warmly as she had presented herself.
"Come," the auburn haired woman announced, gesturing for Marguerite to follow her. Without hesitation, she shut the massive door and followed behind as they turned into a doorway on their left and made their way down a long white hallway.
Marguerite found it odd that there seemed to be no visible furniture or paintings-or anything for that matter-decorating the household. It seemed empty and desolate without the paintings or vases filled with flowers that the households in England had always kept. Even the tree house-which was usually bordering on messy and somewhat neat-had more warmth and welcome than this house did.
She felt a shiver run up her spine as they continued, but Marguerite knew it wasn't from the cool breeze that circulated around them. There was something oddly unsettling about the whole thing, and the dark haired woman was determined to find out just what it was.
~*~
Meanwhile, the others were beginning to feel worried as to their friend's whereabouts. Even Ned seemed agitated as the packaged up the last of the plants into the crates.
"How long can it take to get a drink of water?" Roxton questioned out loud, settling his rifle over his shoulder.
Veronica looked up from the rather wild bush she was trying to pack up, studying the hunter's stiff position.
"Marguerite's probably just lost track of the time." She was trying to reassure him, but deep down, the jungle girl knew her words sounded empty to the man's ears.
"Veronica's right. She's probably just gone off after some sparkly object that conveniently caught her eye," Malone added and they all shared a smile. Each explorer knew the heiress' fondness for anything that glittered, and they all knew how sidetracked she could get when she found something.
"Even then, she still should have been back by now," Roxton said, worry etched into his face as he tried to look past the trees to find the woman.
Ned sent Veronica a look and silently they both agreed.
"Why don't you go look for her while Veronica and I finish up here?" Ned offered, Veronica nodding her verification. Roxton looked hesitant for a moment, before his eyes gave in.
"I'll be back in five minutes," He stated, "If I'm not back by then head back to the tree house. Got it?"
His companions nodded and watched the hunter shoot off into the dense underbrush heading towards the stream.
Veronica smiled, and bent down to pick up another bush. "I'd give them ten minutes if I were you."
~*~
The hunter's skilfully strained eye picked up the signs of movement through the brush; broken branches hung off of limbs, others scattered over the ground. There was no doubt that Marguerite had come this way that was for sure.
'Damned infuriating woman,' Roxton cursed, ducking through some rather low-hanging branches. 'Why can't she just stay in one place?'
Stepping over a rotting log, he began to contemplate the possibilities of trouble that Marguerite could have run into-none were very pretty. His pace quickened as he though of the numerous dangers that lurked in the shadows of the plateau. If anything had happened to Marguerite…anything at all…
He emerged from the bushes, and caught sight of her boots hiding under a large willow tree. His eyes roamed the stream banks for any sign of her whereabouts.
That was when he saw her still form sprawled across the rocks. Crying out her name, Roxton scrambled to where she lay, unable to think of anything but concern for the one woman who had touched his heart.
His hand reached down for her pale face, bringing her face from its side to face him.
Wordlessly, he touched the oozing gash that scarred her beautiful face. Unknowingly, a few tears trickled down his handsome face as he whispered her name over and over, trying to detect any sign of life that still coursed through her frail form. He managed to detect a weak pulse, but that still could not stop him from fretting.
Scooping the still form into his arms, he practically ran back to Ned and Veronica as panic overtook every sensible gene in his body.
~*~
The room they now stood in was as white as every other place in the whole bloody house and Marguerite was starting to get sick and tired of the same monotonous colour decorating each and every wall.
"What do you think of my abode?" Sophie's voice seemed to ring like a bell around the room, bouncing off the walls, as if she had just read the heiress' mind.
"It's rather bland," Marguerite pointed out. "Don't you know of any other colours?"
Sophie simply smiled. "White is a special colour, and not all appreciate it for what it is. White has no emotion, it leaves no mark on anybody nor does anybody leave a mark on it. It has no ties, no beginning and it has no end."
Marguerite suddenly felt a new curiosity about her companion. She certainly sounded like some philosopher as she had recited that and once again, the heiress was beginning to wonder what she had gotten herself into this time round.
"What's the real reason I'm here?" Marguerite demanded, feeling a sudden stretch of impatience "It doesn't seem like I've been invited for tea and biscuits as far as I can tell."
Sophie regarded her for a few silent moments before her mouth opened to speak. " You have been brought here to examine the three stages of your life: The past, present and future."
Marguerite quirked a brow. "But why me of all people?"
"You need to open your eyes to the world around you, Marguerite. I know you have questions that need to be answered. That is why you are here."
For a while, all Marguerite could do was stare hard at the little woman before her. What did she mean by 'opening her eyes to the world'. Her eyes were as wide open as they could be!
Crossing her arms quite firmly over her chest, she adopted an unyielding stance. "Explain to me why I should be here instead of back at the tree house."
For the first time since Marguerite had seen her, Sophie's smile fell and she sighed.
"I can see why they sent you too me," She muttered, but Marguerite caught every last word.
"Who sent me here? Was it that thing that kept making the racket in the bushes?"
Sophie held up a hand, stopping the ongoing questioning almost as quickly as it stopped. Marguerite's nerves were on end, and being inside the house painted all in white with some stranger who seemed to be able to see into her problems, the dark-haired woman was willing to avoid a fight…for once in her life.
"I am not allowed to tell you all but this: If they felt you needed my guidance, then you must do, or else you would not be here. Even if you refuse to go along, I will have no choice but to force you."
"No one forces me to do anything, least of all some strange hussy who thinks she knows everything!"
Surprisingly, all Sophie did was break into a smile again as she walked over to a door on the far wall.
Marguerite stayed where she was for a few minutes, trying to get her point across, but something-some strange sense-cause her to walk over to where the woman was standing.
Sophie turned the brass knob ('Finally something that isn't white!' Marguerite thought) and the door swung open to reveal nothing but a pitch-black space.
"Here is where your journey begins, Marguerite Krux."
And without another word, Sophie took the heiress by the arm and shoved her into the void.
~*~
TBC…….
If you have any questions or comments, feel free to email me at: sail_the_seas@hotmail.com
~*~
This story is dedicated to all those who have suffered because of the tragedy on Tuesday, September 11. My heart goes out to those who had family or friends in Washington and New York.
NOTE: A warm thank you to everyone last person who read and reviewed my first story!! I'd love to say who you all are, but i don't think my memory can handle it....but THANK YOU!!!
It meant a lot :)
DISCLAIMER: I don't own any of the characters associated with "Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's The Lost World", but there are a few in here I believe that I do own…
~*~
Part 1
~*~
"Where is this damned heat coming from?" exclaimed a rather frustrated Marguerite Krux as she wiped the beads of sweat from her forehead. Her eyes roamed skyward to try and see if the sun had decided to peek out from the grey clouds above but she couldn't even see a beam of sunlight that might be the cause of the tormenting warmth.
The others around her rolled their eyes at each other and continued on digging up the plants that Summerlee had pointed out. His garden was in need of replenishing and who better to do it than the four most agile people in the tree house.
"Marguerite, you've barely dug up a full plant," John Roxton pointed out, gesturing his shovel to the half-exposed roots of the leafy bush that was at her feet.
She eyed the exposed vegetation that surrounded the hunter's feet and sniffed. "It's too hot to do anything that requires movement."
The hunter sighed, but the heat had gotten to him too, and he didn't feel like getting into any arguments. Instead, the soft sound of shovels scraping against the damp earth resumed, and Marguerite was left glaring at the rest of them.
"Since you all seem to be doing just fine here, I think I'll go get a drink," the heiress announced and stormed off in the direction that Veronica had pointed out before, not wanting to wait around for someone to try and stop her.
Fuming over the silent treatment that they had all given her, she stomped along the narrow deer trail, angrily swatting at the branches blocking her way. She was feeling more frustrated than normal as the heat wave the plateau was suffering continued on relentlessly. Even the apemen had taken a break from hunting the explorers down because of the sweltering humidity.
Marguerite could hear the steady trickle of the stream as she untangled a strand of hair from one particularly spiky branch. She sighed in relief as her beautiful grey eyes caught sight of the moist rocks surrounding the watery trail.
Gulping down the water, Marguerite splashed some on her face and around her neck to relieve the annoying sense of being overheated, relishing in the cool spray.
Feeling decidedly cooler, the heiress sat back against a tree, resting her head on her knees as she watched the stream run calmly on its way.
The crystal clear water seemed to call out as Marguerite formed an idea in her head. Biting her lip, she hesitated for a second than decided to go on ahead.
'Nobody's here to see you anyway,' she scolded herself, sliding off the confining boots and stockings, leaving them in a neat pile underneath the tree's shady canopy. Careful to keep from slipping, she dipped her foot into the stream, testing the footing below.
Satisfied with it, she stepped in and shuffled around, rolling her breeches up to her knees so she could access the deeper parts of the water, savouring the sense of feeling cooled off for once.
A snap of a branch in the background brought her back to reality as her head snapped into attention while she surveyed the surrounding forest.
"Hello?" Marguerite called out, "Roxton? Malone? This better not be one of your stupid jokes!"
Another snap made her jump about a foot in the air. Trying to place the exact direction it came from, she turned around, scrutinizing every bush and rock for anything that seemed out of place. 'Great. Just what I need, a peeping tom.'
"Veronica?" When no answer came back, the heiress tried a different tactic.
"Come out you coward and face me!"
Only a few birds called back to her question. Just to be safe, she edged closer to the rocky stream bank, one hand sliding up to meet her gun at her waist.
Just the feel of the smooth metal made her relax. Smirking to herself, she shook her head at her own reaction.
'Probably just some wild pig looking for food,' Marguerite thought. Yet-though she felt somewhat reassured by this thought-that didn't stop her from deciding to go back and see how the others were doing rather than wasting the day paddling.
The third crack sounded closer, and seemed to echo across the valley in which they had come hiking through as they followed Summerlee's directions.
Her nerves were on the very edge as she scrambled to the stream bank. If it was something dangerous, she'd rather have some footwear on when she ran than the bare feet she had now. It wouldn't do her any good as she ran from a raptor to stop along the way to pull thistles out of her feet.
In her pursuit up the riverbank, she was too preoccupied with her own worries to think about the slick stones underfoot until she felt her feet slipping from under her.
Unable to react in time, Marguerite hit the ground hard, her back screaming out against the sharp points scraping into her back. Her head snapped to one side as she went down, striking the rocks below, and for a long time, Marguerite's world disappeared into a pitch-black haze…
~*~
With a start, she sat up, feeling rather dizzy and out of place. Shaking her head a few times to rid it of the funny ringing feeling, Marguerite slowly got up to her feet. Instinctively her hand went up to her forehead, but she could feel no bump or scrape. Confused, she looked out into the horizon and got a jolt of amazement.
There seemed to be no end to the grassy expanse that surrounded her. No matter how much she strained, Marguerite could not see a single bump or hill destroying the seemingly perfect line of the horizon.
Feeling rather out of place, she averted her eyes to the more interesting part of the scenery. A large white mansion stood out against the flat lines, rising high above the golden stalks at its feet. A roof held up with two long columns shaded its high arched door. Tall windows were stamped all along the building's white walls, shutters put off to either side of the long glass panes.
Marguerite hesitated at the bottom of the marble steps, wondering whether or not it was the smartest thing to do.
'To hell with intelligent,' she finally decided, 'I want answers and this seems to be the most likely place to find them.'
Her footsteps seemed to ring out across the fields as she climbed to the door. Although there were shadows lazily stretched out, the heiress could not see-for the life of her-what exactly was causing them. The sky was as grey as it had been when she was in the jungle.
Upon reaching the door, Marguerite reached up for the brass knocker that hung from the white door. The knocker was in the shape of a horse head, bridled, as any carriage horse in London would be.
On her second knock, the grand door swung open, revealing a high ceiling hallway, as white as the rest of the house.
'Whoever lives here needs to need a serious decorator about this colour.'
Peering around the door, she found herself looking into the eyes of a woman who seemed to be just as intent on staring at her.
The woman was the first to regain her wits. "Welcome." Her voice was soft and feathery and reminded the dark haired beauty of a spring breeze of sorts.
Questions ran through Marguerite's mind as she tried to settle on something to reply. At last, she decided on one that would help to restore her train of thought.
"Where am I?"
The woman smiled, her clear blue eyes radiating warmth and a peculiar amusement. "That is not of any concern."
Feeling even more baffled than she had been upon seeing the house Marguerite pursed her lips in annoyance
"Well, who are you?"
The mysterious woman laughed, a light tinkly sound that ground at the heiress' nerves.
"You may call me Sophie."
Marguerite studied the petite woman who stood in front of her, assessing just exactly who she was. There seemed to be a warm air around her, as she smiled up at the stranger who had just intruded on her property. Sophie's eyes held no malice, only a welcoming shine that radiated off of her whole body. 'This woman can't possibly mean anything harm. She'd probably cry if she killed a spider.'
"Marguerite Krux," She introduced, holding out a hand. Sophie shook it just as warmly as she had presented herself.
"Come," the auburn haired woman announced, gesturing for Marguerite to follow her. Without hesitation, she shut the massive door and followed behind as they turned into a doorway on their left and made their way down a long white hallway.
Marguerite found it odd that there seemed to be no visible furniture or paintings-or anything for that matter-decorating the household. It seemed empty and desolate without the paintings or vases filled with flowers that the households in England had always kept. Even the tree house-which was usually bordering on messy and somewhat neat-had more warmth and welcome than this house did.
She felt a shiver run up her spine as they continued, but Marguerite knew it wasn't from the cool breeze that circulated around them. There was something oddly unsettling about the whole thing, and the dark haired woman was determined to find out just what it was.
~*~
Meanwhile, the others were beginning to feel worried as to their friend's whereabouts. Even Ned seemed agitated as the packaged up the last of the plants into the crates.
"How long can it take to get a drink of water?" Roxton questioned out loud, settling his rifle over his shoulder.
Veronica looked up from the rather wild bush she was trying to pack up, studying the hunter's stiff position.
"Marguerite's probably just lost track of the time." She was trying to reassure him, but deep down, the jungle girl knew her words sounded empty to the man's ears.
"Veronica's right. She's probably just gone off after some sparkly object that conveniently caught her eye," Malone added and they all shared a smile. Each explorer knew the heiress' fondness for anything that glittered, and they all knew how sidetracked she could get when she found something.
"Even then, she still should have been back by now," Roxton said, worry etched into his face as he tried to look past the trees to find the woman.
Ned sent Veronica a look and silently they both agreed.
"Why don't you go look for her while Veronica and I finish up here?" Ned offered, Veronica nodding her verification. Roxton looked hesitant for a moment, before his eyes gave in.
"I'll be back in five minutes," He stated, "If I'm not back by then head back to the tree house. Got it?"
His companions nodded and watched the hunter shoot off into the dense underbrush heading towards the stream.
Veronica smiled, and bent down to pick up another bush. "I'd give them ten minutes if I were you."
~*~
The hunter's skilfully strained eye picked up the signs of movement through the brush; broken branches hung off of limbs, others scattered over the ground. There was no doubt that Marguerite had come this way that was for sure.
'Damned infuriating woman,' Roxton cursed, ducking through some rather low-hanging branches. 'Why can't she just stay in one place?'
Stepping over a rotting log, he began to contemplate the possibilities of trouble that Marguerite could have run into-none were very pretty. His pace quickened as he though of the numerous dangers that lurked in the shadows of the plateau. If anything had happened to Marguerite…anything at all…
He emerged from the bushes, and caught sight of her boots hiding under a large willow tree. His eyes roamed the stream banks for any sign of her whereabouts.
That was when he saw her still form sprawled across the rocks. Crying out her name, Roxton scrambled to where she lay, unable to think of anything but concern for the one woman who had touched his heart.
His hand reached down for her pale face, bringing her face from its side to face him.
Wordlessly, he touched the oozing gash that scarred her beautiful face. Unknowingly, a few tears trickled down his handsome face as he whispered her name over and over, trying to detect any sign of life that still coursed through her frail form. He managed to detect a weak pulse, but that still could not stop him from fretting.
Scooping the still form into his arms, he practically ran back to Ned and Veronica as panic overtook every sensible gene in his body.
~*~
The room they now stood in was as white as every other place in the whole bloody house and Marguerite was starting to get sick and tired of the same monotonous colour decorating each and every wall.
"What do you think of my abode?" Sophie's voice seemed to ring like a bell around the room, bouncing off the walls, as if she had just read the heiress' mind.
"It's rather bland," Marguerite pointed out. "Don't you know of any other colours?"
Sophie simply smiled. "White is a special colour, and not all appreciate it for what it is. White has no emotion, it leaves no mark on anybody nor does anybody leave a mark on it. It has no ties, no beginning and it has no end."
Marguerite suddenly felt a new curiosity about her companion. She certainly sounded like some philosopher as she had recited that and once again, the heiress was beginning to wonder what she had gotten herself into this time round.
"What's the real reason I'm here?" Marguerite demanded, feeling a sudden stretch of impatience "It doesn't seem like I've been invited for tea and biscuits as far as I can tell."
Sophie regarded her for a few silent moments before her mouth opened to speak. " You have been brought here to examine the three stages of your life: The past, present and future."
Marguerite quirked a brow. "But why me of all people?"
"You need to open your eyes to the world around you, Marguerite. I know you have questions that need to be answered. That is why you are here."
For a while, all Marguerite could do was stare hard at the little woman before her. What did she mean by 'opening her eyes to the world'. Her eyes were as wide open as they could be!
Crossing her arms quite firmly over her chest, she adopted an unyielding stance. "Explain to me why I should be here instead of back at the tree house."
For the first time since Marguerite had seen her, Sophie's smile fell and she sighed.
"I can see why they sent you too me," She muttered, but Marguerite caught every last word.
"Who sent me here? Was it that thing that kept making the racket in the bushes?"
Sophie held up a hand, stopping the ongoing questioning almost as quickly as it stopped. Marguerite's nerves were on end, and being inside the house painted all in white with some stranger who seemed to be able to see into her problems, the dark-haired woman was willing to avoid a fight…for once in her life.
"I am not allowed to tell you all but this: If they felt you needed my guidance, then you must do, or else you would not be here. Even if you refuse to go along, I will have no choice but to force you."
"No one forces me to do anything, least of all some strange hussy who thinks she knows everything!"
Surprisingly, all Sophie did was break into a smile again as she walked over to a door on the far wall.
Marguerite stayed where she was for a few minutes, trying to get her point across, but something-some strange sense-cause her to walk over to where the woman was standing.
Sophie turned the brass knob ('Finally something that isn't white!' Marguerite thought) and the door swung open to reveal nothing but a pitch-black space.
"Here is where your journey begins, Marguerite Krux."
And without another word, Sophie took the heiress by the arm and shoved her into the void.
~*~
TBC…….
If you have any questions or comments, feel free to email me at: sail_the_seas@hotmail.com