The Last Golden Rose
Chapter 10: Stone Faces
Mith dreamed of her mother. She could see her face with its usual smile. Her mother had been dead only six months, but Mith saw her in dreams frequently. Loria Hardel had been a traveling saleswoman. Mith was not sure what she sold, but she was sure that her mother traveled the island over half of the year. She would return for the last week and a half out of the month, and then leave again when the new month started. Mith liked these dreams; she felt they were the only things keeping her mother in her life.
The night grew colder with every step Mitchum took. The boards of Brickem groaned through the silent air as he made his way from house to house. A strange horror filled him with every person he saw. Each of the stone faces looked back at him through their empty gazes. More than once he stumbled backward after seeing someone only feet away. It took only a moment for him to deduce if it was a frozen person or enemies come to collect something from the town. Every single time it was just a stone face staring back.
Finally, Mitchum thought, the last house. He walked carefully up the board walk to the last house he was going to check. He still was not sure what he was looking for; he knew that no one was there. But there was still a part of him, very small, that believed that someone was immune to this curse. This particular house was the mayor’s house, and was the biggest of the town. It stood three stories tall and had a balcony on the second and third floor. Often considered the most beautiful of the overall dull houses in Brickem, it stood a ways back from the rest of the town. Mitchum had only seen the house from the outside in his many times to Brickem and had never actually been invited in. He knocked on the polished wood doors out of habit and then continued inside. Lucky for him the door did not have locks; instead it had doormen that stood just inside at all hours.
Once inside Mitchum took a look around, making sure he left the door open to let in the light from the stars, which since there is no moon over Parli, are bright enough to see by. The entry way was small, and led to a narrow hallway. The tall man with the shoes made from reptile skin bowed to the doorman and walked to the end of the hall and into the main parlor. It was like nothing he had ever seen; a three story house made almost completely of wood. The middle of the house was a giant room that rose to all three stories; Mitchum could count the doors on all the floors, four each. A winding staircase stood in the middle of the house, with a landing on the second and third floor. The stairs continued onward to the ceiling which was made of glass. The stars shined brightly down into the house leaving no reason for the door to be open. A red carpet covered the floor, while the wood walls were painted the same red.
Mitchum searched through all the rooms on the first floor, the kitchen, meeting room and two guest bedrooms. Then he came to the second floor, consisting of two more bedrooms, a library, and a bathing room. Finally he came to the third floor; the first three rooms were offices of some sort. He saved the mayors bedroom for last, he knew which it was from the sign on the door that read: Mayor’s bed chamber, no entrance. Mitchum pushed the door open. The bedroom truly showed how Brickem was a town against material objects. Only two things stood in the room: a plain wood desk and a plain wood framed bed that stood near a window. The bed had a mattress and pillow that were filled with feathers. Mitchum admired the mayor’s modesty and turned to go, then flipped back around to look upon the bed. He had noticed that no one lay in it. Where was the mayor? Mitchum was certain he did not see him in any other room; he had searched the entire place and seen no one.
He walked around the room and peered under the bed and behind the desk, but still found nobody. Fearing the worst for the mayor, Mitchum took a quick look out the window. And there he found the mayor. Mitchum ran out of the room, down the stairs, and through the back door in the kitchen to the backyard. Mitchum wondered how he had not seen the mayor through the backdoor just minutes ago when he was looking through the kitchen.
Mitchum stepped onto the boarded walkway and into the starlight. The backyard of the mayor’s house was one of the only parts in all of Brickem that was extravagant. It was not really a yard, but a lake. A lake equal size to the house it was hidden by. It glowed mysteriously from the fish that lived in its deep waters. Mitchum walked up to the edge and peered inside. Small glows that were actually fish lay motionless on the bottom. The water was so clear and the fish so bright with their red glows that it was easy to see them. Mitchum watched the fish with sadness in his heart. Seeing those fish glow so brightly without the ability to help themselves made him shiver. Somewhere deep inside he feared this to be the fate of the future. If someone really did steal the rose this might be what the entire island would look like before long, an island of statues. Mitchum shook the idea and turned his attention to the mayor.
“I am truly sorry to have to meet you in this state.” Mitchum said softly, meaning every word. The mayor’s rounded face stared blankly ahead. Mitchum looked with certain disgust into the mayors brown eyes. “My name is Gai Mitchum Quinn, but I go by Mitchum. If you can hear me, I want you to not worry, I will find who did this, and I will stop them.” He touched the mayor’s cheek with his hand and immediately withdrew it. His face was hard and cold, he was truly a statue.
Mitchum went straight back into the house without another look at the mayor. He fought the fear in his mind with thoughts of defeating Oldo, his old friend (if that really was who did it). The parlor and entryway were the same as before, but Mitchum took one last look before shutting the front door. He pulled his wide brimmed hat down and stepped onto the boarded walk.
The air was almost as cold as the Rough Region when Mitchum arrived back at the house where Mith and Ludus were sleeping. Once inside he headed up to the bedrooms. He checked both, Mith and Ludus were both asleep, he grabbed a blanket from the master bedroom and spread it out on the floor in the hall between the two rooms. His hat and bag came off, and Mitchum lay down on the blanket. He watched the boards of the ceiling while continuing to think of the current dilemma. He had no proof as of yet, but was almost certain it was Oldo who caused the mess. Mitchum would never forget the last time he saw Oldo, and the things that were said.
“. . . You said you thought like me!” Oldo had yelled as he was dragged off through the palace gates some ten years before. “You would have been in my council, you would have lived.” He had screeched as the other guards took their estranged former co-worker away. Oldo’s guard hat hit the ground but nobody stopped to pick it up. “I will get you, do not think I will let you go now, do not think that you are safe.”
Mitchum had waited until the guards and Oldo were out of sight, then he went over and picked up the guard hat that had fallen. He stared at the mud on it for only a second, and then carried it back into the palace. A huge tree that grew inside the yard of the palace grounds turned to Mitchum after just having watched Oldo being taken away.
“That was scary, you should watch out for him.” The tree said in its deep voice.
“No need.” Mitchum responded without looking at the tree. “He will not be bothering anybody where he is going.”
Mitchum went through the palace doors without another word to the tree. He felt strangely hollow. The palace’s ornate entranceway expanded out before him. It was a hard reality to swallow for Mitchum; his best friend had turned out to be some kind of lunatic bent on taking power for himself. Mitchum turned a corner and arrived at the guard’s headquarters. Many desks were cramped into a small room. A door on one wall led to the changing area where the guards could change into their uniforms, pants two sizes too big along with a jacket that ended at their knees. Everyone thought it was the ugliest color scheme ever; the jacket had five different color patches on it, one for each region, while the pants were solid purple, the hat orange. The small room was deserted, as he knew it would be. He placed the dirty guard’s hat on a desk and sat in a chair near the small window on the far wall. He looked out the window as he attempted to clear all thoughts.
Now, ten years later,
Mitchum tried once again to clear all thoughts from his mind. But just like that day long ago it was almost impossible. He stared at the natural designs in the wood over his head, but still the thoughts would not go away. The morning came before long, and Mitchum awoke with the feeling as though he had never actually gone to sleep.