The first floor was a mahogany and burgundy blur as Casey fell through the ceiling of the library and slammed into the hardwood. Pain shot through her left ankle. A screechy yell ripped out of her even as she scrambled to pat the floor, making sure she wasn't going to fall through that one, too.
Her fingers sunk into the thick expensive carpet beside her and clung tight. She didn't want to get stuck in the basement-dungeon-laundry room. There were things down there.
She was half-aware of hearing her name being called from somewhere in the house, but she was too focused on the floor. And her ankle. And the freakin' evil boots. She had to get them off before something worse happened.
Casey grabbed at the boot on her right foot with one hand, too hesitant about whatever was wrong with her left ankle to try pulling that one off first. She tried to tug the boot off, but either she wasn't pulling hard enough or it was stuck. Pain surged through her left ankle again, and she had to sit back as tears sprang to her eyes, hot and unwanted. Blinking furiously, she forced herself to let go of the carpet and try to pull the boot off again, glaring at it.
This time the right boot came off easily. She tossed it away, and it bounced under an oversized armchair. Sucking a breath in through her gritted teeth, she brushed her hand under her eyes and looked at the left boot.
"Casey?"
This time she clearly heard Stephen. He had to be on the stairs.
"Library!" she shouted back and then gasped as her left leg started sinking through the floor. This time it was a lot slower, maybe because she only had one boot on? A small yet still embarrassing shriek escaped her. "Help! Stephen, help!"
A glowing portal ripped open near the massive fireplace, and Stephen hurried through, looking frazzled. "What—" He spotted her and her quicksand-floor situation and seemed to be instantly by her side, gripping her arm, or trying to.
His hands went right through her.
"Oh."
Her terror notched up to extreme. Her mouth dropped open and everything she might've said dried up in her throat. Was she dead, was she a ghost, had the shoes killed her, what the hell—
"Calm down," Stephen demanded. His gaze was narrowed yet jumping around at the same time, like he was searching for an answer to fix the problem without even really knowing what was going on. "Casey, breathe."
"I—I'm trying—"
"Focus. You're going to be okay, so don't panic."
"Great advice." She found her words and let loose now that she had someone to aim them at. "Your doctor-y bedside manner must've been so, so good, therapist level amazing. Don't panic. Like my own personal Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy."
"You know about that book?"
"I read!" Okay, so she had watched the movie, sue her.
Casey closed her eyes tight for a moment and gritted her teeth. This was ridiculous. These had to be magic shoes, and she was halfway sure they weren't cursed. They would've felt evil or something, right? And they weren't evil...she was 75% sure they weren't, so she should be able to control them. She opened her eyes again and tried to grab his still extended hand. "And how exactly do you know I'm going to be okay, I am sinking through the floor!"
"I'll figure it out," he said confidently, his fingers moving rapidly through spell. His trembling hands glowed, and he reached for her again. And, once more, his hands passed through her arms.
Casey tried to grab the floor. "You're—you're doing a wonderful job, oh wise one." Her taunt was heavily sarcastic and almost breathless at the same time.
"Teasing me is a great motivator," he said in a deadpan.
"I can't help it, I'm freaking out, and when I freak out, I lash out."
"Noticed that months ago." He arched at eyebrow at her. "Want to explain what happened?"
"Not really," she said, still attempting to hold onto the carpet. She could almost feel it.
"Casey. Do you like sinking through the floor?"
"I hate the basement," she said, her nose wrinkling, "It smells like gym socks. So no." Another inch through the floor. "I might've put on some cursed boots. Maybe."
Stephen's eyes narrowed. "You didn't."
"I said I might have. See, there were these boots in my room when we got back, and they looked really comfortable...so I put them on. And fell through the floor of my room a little bit."
"You. Didn't. You did not put on a magical piece of clothing that you knew nothing about."
Casey made an indignant noise that might've been a squeal. "You did the exact same thing when you wore Cloak for the first time!"
Stephen glowered. "The cloak isn't cursed. Speaking of..." He waved a hand, and the Cloak of Levitation soared into the room, shaking itself off. It curled around his shoulders and then seemed to notice Casey. It made a very sweet attempt to wrap itself around her wrist, but it couldn't seem to touch her either. Folds of fabric whooshed through her wrist in increasingly wild attempts to snag her until Stephen gave the cloak a soft pat. "Never mind, it was a long shot."
"The boot's under the chair," Casey said, trying to pull her leg out from the floor. No luck. "If you want to look at it or something, see if you recognize it with your big brain knowledge." She chewed on her bottom lip. "We should go to trivia night some time, win some free food. If I don't end up stuck in the floor forever."
"You're talking a lot. Is it because you feel guilty about messing with magic you're not ready for?" He worked a few spells while he talked, but she didn't budge.
"Stop analyzing me," Casey snapped, and then made a frustrated sound. "I'm sorry, just not in the mood for a lecture. You can do that later."
"I'll remember you said that," Stephen said. He reached over and grabbed the boot out from under the chair. His eyes widened as he turned it over in his hands. "Where did you say you got these?"
"My room," she said, "They were just there when we got back."
"Well, good news first, they're not cursed," he said, setting the boot down next to her. "These are the Boots of Issidelle. They've been in the Sanctum since I've been here. Powerful relic, tends to choose people who are willful and fond of battle."
"Is there bad news?"
"They give the wearer temporary intangibility, which would be good news if you weren't stuck in the floor because of it. And I don't know how they work," he said, frowning. "It wasn't in the description, most likely because the writer herself didn't know."
Casey sucked in a breath. "Stephen. Please. I don't want to fall through the floor. My ankle is killing me."
Stephen's eyebrows knit together. "Did you land on it?"
"Sort of. Yeah."
"It might be broken." He scrubbed at his beard and then crossed his arms. "We need to get you out of the floor. Then we're going to the hospital."
"Fun. I'd almost rather stay in the floor." Casey sighed. "But I don't want to fall into the basement."
"It has to be something to do with the boots. They apparently want to belong to you, so you should be able to control them somehow."
"Relics need to come with instruction manuals," she said, closing her eyes and then opening them to slits to glare at the boot beside her. "Why can't they be more helpful, like Cloak?"
"There are only a few relics that act like the Cloak," Stephen said, "But that means you should really be able to get them to do exactly what you want by focusing."
"Do I click my heels together?"
"Have you tried that?"
"I can't tell if you're being serious or not," Casey said.
Stephen half-smiled. "Come on, Casey, time to concentrate. You'll need to focus on being solid bit by bit."
The blood drained from her face. "What if I stop being a ghost while I'm still stuck in the floor?"
Stephen shook his head. "That's not going to happen. But the faster you get out of the floor, I think the happier we'll all be."
"Y-yeah," Casey said. "I'm really concerned about your happiness right now." Right. Time to, well, focus. She closed her eyes again and tried to not thinking about sinking farther into the basement or going solid while she was stuck.
Instead, she thought about climbing out of the floor. But when she chanced looking, she hadn't moved at all. Okay. Not that.
Or just her hand being tangible. Her arm. Just her arm. If Stephen could grab her arm and help her out... She reached out her hand, feeling desperate. "Can you try again?"
He didn't hesitate as he bent toward her, his trembling hand grabbing hers. And they actually made contact. Stephen pulled, shifting back as her leg emerged from the floor, and the Cloak rushed around and wrapped around her waist. This time it didn't go through. It floated up, lifting her completely out of the floor. It drifted her to Stephen's side, and she found herself sitting in a library chair, solid again.
Stephen tentatively reached out and touched her head, sighing when his fingers didn't go through her. He ruffled her hair and then frowned down at her, anger and worry in his blue eyes.
"You're grounded."
Casey leaned back against the chair and covered her eyes. "Yeah, okay. As long as the ground stays solid, I can be very grounded."
