Meg stirred, yawned lazily, and didn't open her eyes, doing her best to drift back off into slumber. Her feet had begun to ache not too far from the rosebush, and she had lain down, propped up against an oak tree, intending merely to rest her feet for a moment. She had ended up falling asleep, though, and was only just now awakening.

The trunk of the tree dug into her back relentlessly, thoroughly dispelling her sleepiness and making it quite impossible to return to her dreams. Heaving a sigh, she sat up and stretched, glancing around.

And gasped, all thought of hunger and discomfort momentarily forgotten in favor of surprise.

Where she sat now was nothing like the place where she had gone to sleep. True, a forest lay to her back, but in front of her lay a true, honest-to-God, castle.

It was a castle of the sort she didn't think even existed inside the United States, made of something that looked to her like gray stone, although she wasn't exactly an expert on building materials. It rambled all over the country hillside like some great stone labyrinth within walls, and must have had hundreds--maybe even thousands--of different rooms and corridors. A cobblestone path led from the forest at her back to a large, foreboding black iron gate, with two small statues of cupids perched atop the gate on either side.

She had absolutely no idea who lived there, or how in the world she had gotten there. Nor did she have any idea how to get back.

Gulping, she stared at the expansive castle, then at last climbed to her feet. Maybe...maybe this castle, and whoever lives in it, is better than the orphanage, and the other kids there. If anybody even lives there; hell, it's probably abandoned.

Taking a deep breath, she slung her bookbag over her shoulder and approached the large gate nervously, wondering if it would be locked, or if it would swing open at her touch, only to find herself shot by the bows the cupid statues held as she walked through...

Now you're being silly, Meg. No matter how much it might seem like it, this is not a fairy tale. You're nothing like Cinderella, or Sleeping Beauty, or any of the other fairy tale heroines, and the worst thing that can happen is that the damn gate'll be locked.

Hesitantly, she put a hand on the iron gate. It swung open before she pushed, both sides swinging open, rather than just the one side she had placed her hand on. Suppressing stern misgivings, she made herself walk through the gate.

Inside the gate, she was treated to a rather impressive view of an enormously large lawn. Just a ways forward and to her right lay a gigantic fountain, in the shape of another cupid blowing a horn out of which water gently cascaded. The statue looked like it was made of marble, but who knew; it might even have been plastic. These days, they could make plastic look like anything.

The iron gate swung shut behind her, closing with an audible click. She whirled around, gazing at it with wide eyes. Darting forward, she dropped her bag on the ground in her haste, and ran into the gate trying to get it to open again. Her fingers scrabbled over the iron frantically, searching for any sort of clasp or a lock, and encountered nothing but smooth iron bars. No matter how hard she pushed, how much she leaned her weight against it, the gate remained closed.

She was trapped.

Turning, she took a deep breath, and made herself walk forward and grab her bag again. Maybe it'll be an abandoned castle, and nobody'll be there to bitch at me for coming in, never mind that the gate was unlocked. Or hopefully, if there is someone there, they'll be friendly. Or they'll unlock the gate for me. Or something.

She forced herself to walk along the cobblestone path, trying not to drag her feet, all the way to the front door. After what seemed like an eternity of walking, she was staring up at the door, feeling quite intimidated. The door was easily twice as tall as she was, and she wasn't exactly short, and it was nearly ten times as wide. It was made of wood, or at least it looked like wood, and there were all sorts of intricate designs carved into it--they looked handmade, but they could have been done with a tool of some sort. She peered closer at them with a frown, wondering if they might give her a peek into the mind of whoever lived here--if anyone did. Dragons, flying horses, unicorns--they looked like something from a fantasy author's fever dream. Shaking her head, she glanced around for a doorbell, or at least a knocker. She found none.

Suppressing a strong feeling of intimidation--she might look somewhat like a princess, but she certainly didn't feel like one--she raised a fisted hand and knocked lightly upon the door.

No answer.

"Anybody home?" she called.

Silence.

Wondering, she placed the palm of her hand flat against the door, as she had done with the gate. It swung open silently, just as the gate had. Taking another deep breath, she steeled herself against whatever might be inside, and stepped through the gigantic door.

It swung shut behind her, closing with an echoing boom and a click of finality. She didn't even bother turning around and trying to open it again--wherever she was, she was most certainly trapped now.

Used to the bright sun outside, it took her eyes several minutes to get used to the gloomy darkness inside. Blinking to clear away the spots in front of her eyes, she at last realized she stood in a grand entry hall, every bit as wide and twice again as tall as the door had been. Any number of doors led off to either side, doors smaller than the entrance, but still bigger than any ordinary door. Up ahead of her, at the end of the long hall, lay a large room, in which she could see firelight flickering even from this distance.

She couldn't pretend it anymore; there was obviously someone living here. If the castle had been abandoned, even with a fire still lit in the fireplace, it would surely have gone out over time. And plus, the castle showed every sign of inhabitants; everything was perfectly clean, spotless, and with no dust whatsoever, which proved there were careful caretakers here.

Pushing her glasses further up on her nose, she squinted nervously into the near-darkness ahead. Knowing how bedraggled she must look, with her hair even more messed-up and frizzy than it was normally, and her beautiful dress dirty and wrinkled, she steeled herself against the sure wrath of the castle's inhabitants and made herself walk forward.

Emerging into the large room at the end of the hall, she looked around; a gigantic red armchair stood in front of her, blocking her view of the fireplace in which the fire flickered. A small end table stood beside it, with two other, smaller chairs to either side. A huge rug stood underneath all the chairs, and two large staircases, went off to either side, the one on the left steep, twirling, and made of iron, the one on the right a marble staircase carpeted in red, with only a gentle rise to it and no turns at all.

There was more than likely to be someone in the huge armchair. After all, it would be the perfect addition to this fairy tale castle.

Gathering her courage, she walked around to the other side of the chair.

The chair was completely empty, as were the other, smaller two. Breathing a sigh of relief and feeling as if a great burden had been lifted from her shoulders, she was suddenly overcome with curiosity, and climbed into the huge chair, which seemed about as large as her father's normal-sized armchair had seemed when she was little. Bouncing on the fluffy velvet cushion, she actually dared to giggle aloud.

The sound seemed quite odd after the dead silence, and echoed throughout the castle, surely alerting her presence to anyone who might be there.

She gulped, giddy feeling quite suddenly and completely gone. Moving to climb down out of the large chair, she heard cloth tear, and when she stood, could see quite clearly where her favorite gown and only memoir of her parents had ripped hugely, right above her right knee.

She felt tears spring to her eyes and tried to shove them down, but they overflowed before she could stop them. Sniffling, nose suddenly plugged up, she wiped ineffectively at her face, and managed only to spread the dirt she had collected in the forest across her face.

Dammit, it's not fair! First I just about get raped, then my best friend dumps me out on my ass, then I get lost, and now I'm in the middle of some huge castle and my damn dress just ripped! I didn't do anything to deserve this shit!

Doing her best imitation of a growl, she wiped at her eyes once more, spreading the dirt even more effectively across her face, and hefted her bookbag higher on her shoulder, determined to find out if there was anyone else in the castle, and if they were responsible for bringing her here.

And if they are, there's gonna be hell to pay!

After some debate, she had chosen the rightmost staircase as a start for exploring. She didn't like the dubious look of the twisting iron staircase to the left; who knew if it would support her weight? Instead, she had taken the rightmost marble staircase, the one with the red carpet.

If this is their idea of the red carpet treatment, they've got some things to answer. I don't exactly like being locked in a place like this.

At last she had gotten to the top of the staircase, only to find herself facing another hallway. This hallway was even darker than the first, completely unlit by anything like the already-lit candles that had been in place along the walls of the first hallway.

Taking a deep breath, she started to walk along the hallway, trying not to let her imagination get out of hand, thinking of all sorts of things that could be hiding in the darkness, which she might not see until it was too late. She didn't have to worry about that for long, though; as she was walking, a candle beside her suddenly sprung into life, illuminating the portion of hallway she stood in and a little bit before and after.

She glanced around nervously, wondering how in the world the candle had suddenly become lit; she was still quite alone in the hallway.

Hell, it's almost enough to make you believe in magic. It might even be magic...

With that thought, she found herself staring at the candle, wondering...

Meg, get real. The only kind of magic there is is just card tricks and sleight of hand. You even know how to do some of the tricks yourself. Get a grip on yourself.

Taking a breath, she continued. The candles lit themselves as she walked past each one of them; she did her best to ignore them. She walked past countless doors, until at last she came to another gigantic pair of doors at the end of the hallway.

She stopped short, staring. Surely this was the master set of rooms, and whoever lived here would be within. Surely it would be locked.

Taking a step forward, she took the great handle in her hand and tugged. The door remained stubbornly shut. She tried looking for a lock, a button to press, she even tried placing the palm of her hand flat against the door the way she had with the gate and the entrance. Nothing worked, and there was no lock to pick, even if she felt like digging through her bookbag for her often-handy set of lock picks--which she didn't.

Shrugging, she turned, looking back down the hallway. Picking a door at random, she went to one of the two doors closest to what she still thought was the master rooms, the one that was now on her left.

For a moment, she expected it to open of its own will, as half of the other doors in this crazy place seemed to be doing. It actually required her to turn the doorknob and push, though, which was oddly reassuring, despite the fact that the candles in the room flared into life as soon as she entered.

Blinking, she looked around, staring in awe at the extravagance now surrounding her. The four-poster bed was of a medieval style, with a flat blue canopy and gauzy light blue curtains that closed all the way around, the kind of bed she had secretly always wanted. At the moment, the curtains were fully open, revealing it to be already made, with silk sheets and a blue velvet blanket that matched the canopy and curtains, one corner turned down invitingly. The bed itself was huge, fully big enough for three people to sleep in comfortably, although there was only one white fluffy pillow placed in the center--somehow, she found that fact comforting.

At last managing to tear her eyes away from the bed, she began to examine the rest of the room, which was, naturally, just as extravagant and large as the rest of the castle. Candles in wall sconces were everywhere, fully illuminating the room and even managing, for the most part, to avoid the unsteady, flickering light that always came hand-in-hand with candles. The walls were painted in shades of light blue and white, the floor carpeted with a light blue rug depicting a cluster of red roses in the center; the large window directly in front of her was curtained in more blue and white, and was complete with a windowseat, three pillows propped up against the wall for comfort's sake. There was a large wardrobe to the right of the bed, and a table with two drawers to the left. A dresser stood just to the right of the window, and a large closet dominated the corner next to it. Along the right wall was a large (as usual) bookcase, filled absolutely to the brim with books of every shape, size, and color imaginable, and in the corner next to it sat a small (for once) chair, with a blue velvet cushion.

All in all, it was almost her dream bedroom--except for the lack of technology, it was the room she had always wanted. And she wasn't going to turn this one down just because it didn't have a bigscreen TV.

There were three doors in the room; one through which she had come, one that led to the closet, and one in the corner that wasn't occupied by a closet, a chair, or a wardrobe. Overcome with curiosity, she headed to the other door.

The door proved to lead to a bathroom, just as extravagant and large as everything else, but oddly up to date when compared to the rest of the castle. They had indoor plumbing here--which was a good thing--judging by the recent-looking, bathtub, sink, and toilet. The bathtub even included a shower, something they hadn't even had back at the orphanage.

Shaking her head in wonder, she went back to the room itself and began to explore. The closet and dresser proved to be entirely empty, and she unpacked and stored her things in them without even thinking about what she was doing. The wardrobe, when opened, revealed to contain a complete collection of medieval and Renaissance dresses in a variety of colors, each of them perfect in every way--her dream wardrobe. It also contained some simpler white nightgowns, she was glad to see; she plucked one of them from the wardrobe without even thinking and placed it atop the bed.

Examining the books upon the bookcase, she was surprised and delighted with most of the selection. True, some of the larger and dustier tomes looked like schoolbooks and most definitely sounded as if they would put her to sleep, but for the most part, the selection of books was immensely interesting, and it even included some of her favorite books, or books she had wanted to purchase.

Shaking her head again, she headed to the bathroom, carrying her toothpaste, toothbrush, and hairbrush. She set them down in their proper places around the sink, brushed her teeth, brushed her hair, and changed into the nightgown she had laid out. She contemplated the idea of taking a shower, but decided she was far too tired. When she returned to the bedroom, a tray was laid out atop the table, with a PBJ on a plate, a hot dog, a small bag of potato chips, and a can of Coke. She fell to immediately, finishing the meal in mere moments, and left the empty tray atop the table. She was climbing into the amazingly comfortable bed when she realized what she was doing.

What the hell?! I'm making myself at home like I was born here, like I've lived here my entire life. I mean, yeah, there doesn't seem to be anybody else here, but that doesn't necessarily mean I'm going to stay here...

Not that I have much choice. Somehow, I think the door and the gate are still locked.

Sighing, she sat down upon the corner of the bed and held her head in her hands.

"Greetings, lady."

The voice boomed from nowhere, scaring her out of her wits. She thought later that she must have actually levitated for a moment. As it was, as soon as she landed, she flung a hand out towards the dresser, grasping the first thing her hand landed on, which coincidentally was her hairbrush. "Who the hell's there?" she called, cursing mentally as her voice trembled a little.

She could have sworn she distinctly heard a sigh. "I am not anywhere in your rooms, I assure you. I am elsewhere in the house, somewhere you have not explored yet. Please, I can promise you that you have nothing whatsoever to be afraid of."

The voice was warm, deep; definitely masculine. Taking a deep breath, she considered putting down the hairbrush, but decided to keep it for now, still ready to use it as a weapon. "Who are you?" she asked instead.

"Who I am does not really matter. But if names are that important to you...I am called Jason Taylor."

"Well then, Mr. Taylor," she called, trying to suppress the feeling of stupidity that came from talking to empty air. "Why am I locked in your house?"

"You are not locked in, madam. You could leave if you wished, but I do wish you wouldn't, quite yet."

"Why?" Her voice squeaked, and she cleared her throat. "What do you want?"

"Nothing you are unwilling to give, I promise you. Consider yourself an honored guest."

Sighing, she put down the hairbrush, oddly willing to accept the man's bare word as truth. "Okay, why not? Everything else today has been like a fairy tale."

"For now, madam--"

"Meg," she interrupted. "Well, Megan Dale actually, but just go ahead and call me Meg. Megan don't sound right. I'm sure as hell not a madam, and I've got too dirty a mouth to be a lady."

There was silence for a moment, as if the invisible Mr. Taylor was somewhat flustered by this statement. "Well then, Meg," he said at last. "As I was saying, for now, I suggest you get some sleep. I can promise you that no harm will come to you as you rest; the necklace you wear is enough to assure that. So now--rest."

Shoving aside her misgivings, she laid back into the warm embrace of the bed, amazingly comfortable and far softer than her hard pallet at the orphanage. Her head hit the soft, fluffy pillow--they hadn't even had pillows, at the orphanage--and she was asleep before she was even aware of closing her eyes.