Part Eight

Her back to the wall, the Princess remained standing but facing Devon. She thought it wiser to face him than have her back toward him. Granted he seemed nicer than the woman, but still... she did not know these people. She knew or had at least seen practically everyone who lived in the castle. On top of that, she herself had explored every inch of the castle and its ground since she was a child and mastered the art of sneaking away from adults when they weren't paying attention. Now she was on a balcony of which the entryway vanished with a man she had just met. She thought about pinching herself to see if this was all just a dream, but knowing her luck her arm would explode in polka-dotted bunny rabbits or striped butterflies.

"Princess," said Devon, trying to smooth out the situation, "if you just let me explain..."

"What happened to the wall?" she asked not moving. She had gone back to hugging her previously wounded hand, partially out of earlier habit, mostly out of not knowing what else to do.

"Princess-."

"It wasn't there before." She managed to keep her tone calm and low even though part of her wanted to scream. Doorways just didn't disappear. What was going on?

"No," said Devon, just as politely as he had always spoken since he met her. "No, it wasn't."

"A-ha!" she said, pointing at him. "So you admit it."

"Yes," he smiled. "Why wouldn't I?" Her mouth opened for another retort, but nothing came out. Why wouldn't he admit it? Her head started to spin slightly which she thought was bad since she was on a balcony so high up. "Please Princess... sit down before you hurt yourself." He extended a hand to her which she cautiously took and let him guide her back into her chair opposite him. "There," he said when she was finally seated. "Now breathe." He himself took a deep breath in as an example, and not knowing what else to do, she mimicked him. When he exhaled, she followed suit. Afterwards she took a few more breaths and started to feel better. "Now then... would you like something to drink before I start?"

"But there's nothing..." she was about to say there was nothing there, because there wasn't... at least a second ago. Now on the table before them was a pitcher and two glasses. Devon poured himself some tea from the ebony pitcher, and at that moment Blue thought she'd like some lemonade instead. He reached out to pour another glass, and the liquid came out yellow. She was done being shocked at this point. Of course the pitcher could pour both tea and lemonade. La la la.

She started taking deep breaths again.

After Devon placed her drink before her and sipped his own, he licked his lips and placed his glass on the table. "Where am I to begin?" He placed his hands in his lap and leaned back. "Let's start with how you came to be in Aggie's room, and we'll go from there."

Blue let out the last breath slowly and relaxed back in her own chair. "I don't know how. I was wandering around the castle, and I just ended up... here."

"I see," he said, sounding like what she just said was quite interesting. "And did Aggie say anything to you when you came in?"

"Well," said Blue, "she was mumbling to herself and later to me about her work, but I had no idea what she was talking about really. Then when I tried to leave, that's when I noticed the door wasn't there anymore. I hurt my hand hitting the wall where the door had been. We sat by the window while she cleaned me up..." her voice trailed off a bit as she recalled the conversation.

"And?" Devon prodded.

"She said we weren't in the castle... which I thought was strange since I had was walking in the castle, had never left the castle, and then ended up in her room." She looked out over the view for a moment, staring out at what she had seen ever since she was born.

"Princess?"

"She threw a pebble or something... out the window... and there were ripples... and then you came in."

"Oh dear," said Devon, and that caught Blue's attention. He looked down a moment at his hands.

"She looked worried." He looked back up at her to find her staring right at him. "When we left the room, she looked worried. Why?" Devon said nothing at first, trying to formulate his thoughts into words. How was he supposed to explain things? "And my hand," she said, "you said that I did that to myself. How is that possible? What you're saying is that I healed myself... but that's impossible. All the cuts and scrapes? They were gone." She eyed him across the table and leaned forward, her palms flat on her lap. "How is that possible?"