Audacity

Time-weathered and covered with moss, the cobblestone stairs were out of place in between the apartment buildings.

Garden Heights was built less than a year ago, and Damian's family had been one of the first to move in. Once Olmana Nature Preserve, the complex owner had finally worn down the city council (much to the chagrin of many environmentalists) and developed the area.

Coming from Memphis, Damian had been afraid that Lexington would be some run-down town deep in the woods full of banjo-playing hillbillies and freaky deer, even if his dad told him otherwise. Needless to say, he was happy to be wrong this time.

It didn't take long for him to make friends with some of the other boys in his building. Sam was 14, just a year younger than Damian but a whole foot shorter; something Damian was happy to constantly point out. He had lived in Lexington his whole life, relocating to Garden Heights after a burst pipe flooded his old house. It wasn't long before Damian realized he could get Sam to do anything by simply saying he didn't think he could, which would often be met by a flush of anger and a defiant snort.

Gil was a bit harder to convince. He was on the heavier side, and admitted openly how hard it was for him to make friends at his last school. He was raised by his grandma in a town that was what Damian feared Lexington would be, and it showed. He was jumpy, and always talked about stuff nobody cared about. But his dad had a Playstation that they could use during the workday, so Damian pushed through.

All of their dad's worked for the same coal mine, not in the mine itself but the headquarters. They all arrived in May, and spent most of June in Gil's apartment playing Call of Duty and Spiderman. But Damian was getting bored of that, and there was a mystery to be solved.

He noticed the stairs the first week. While the apartments were shining new, this one set of cobblestone stairs seemed more at home in an old castle. They must have been there before the complex went up, but that didn't explain why the people who built Garden Heights didn't tear them down.

Damian wanted to climb them. However, every time he went by himself, he couldn't bring himself to do it. It wasn't like he was scared, it just wouldn't be fun without someone doing it first.

"Bet you won't." The three stood at the base of the eroded stairway. The afternoon sun beared down on them through the cloudless sky, their apartment building casting a shadow over the top half of the staircase. In spite of the heat, the steps looked dark, as if recently rained on.

Sam huffed, face flushing red, "That's what you think!" Without hesitation, he started up the stairs, but around the third step, his momentum completely died.

Damian leaned over to Gil, saying loudly, "Told ya."

Gil gave a slight smile, unsure if this was a cue to laugh or not, but his eyes wouldn't leave the staircase, "Maybe that's for the best. My grandma always said you shouldn't go up stairs that lead nowhere in the woods.

This again. Damian rolled his eyes, "I heard you the first five times. We're not in the woods. So we're fine." He knew arguing someone out of their beliefs was impossible. Better to convince them using their ideas instead, "Come on, Sam. What are you waiting for?"

Sam didn't respond, just staring up into the shadow. The shrill drill of cicada's filled the silence.

Damian's brow knit together, "Sam?" He started walking towards the other boy.

Gil gulped, a sheen of sweat glistening on his face.

As soon as he reached the bottom step, Damian reached to grab Sam's hand. The shadows seemed somehow darker this close to the stairs.

Suddenly, Sam whipped around with a big smile and an animalistic snarl, jumping down to the first step.

The shock sent Damian to the ground, knocking his glasses askew and kicking up a cloud of warm dirt. Afternoon heat was dwarfed by the hot embarrassment filling his chest, made worse by the laughing of the two losers with him. He was on his feet a moment later, "Not fricken funny, man!"

"I don't know. Your face was pretty funny to me!" Squeaked Sam through his cackling.

Gil snorted.

"You're just too chicken to go up those stairs! Admit it!"

The comment pierces Sam's laughter, immediately causing him to bluster, "Am not! You're chicken for making me go first!"

His defiance caught Damian off guard. It should have been as easy as that, but this time... Was he actually scared? He didn't move from the steps. Well, what was there to be afraid of anyway?

The shadow seemed to stare down at them. With a gulp, Damian climbed the first step. He got to the fifth before he stopped.

"There." He managed, ripping his eyes away from the shadow, "Come on, Gil."

The third boy made no move to join his friends. He was looking at the shadow too, face covered in a shiny mask of sweat, "I'm ok. We can go play some more COD if you guys want? My dad just restocked the soda and-"

"Fine." Damian sighed. What a coward. He really should come up the steps though. In a moment of inspiration, Damian feigned slipping back on the cobblestone. "OW!" Though his landing was harder than he expected, it added to his performance. Gil was a sensitive guy, and didn't like seeing his friends hurt. Without thinking, he rushed to the stairs to help.

As soon as he stepped on the first step, the cicada's went silent. The afternoon sun disappeared, replaced by a green glow through a canopy of leaves above them. The stairs stayed, but the fake-wood apartment walls became a snarl of branches, vines, and maple leaves. Behind them, the open dirt lot disappeared, replaced by a carved stone door barely visible under the foliage. The top of the stairs were fully visible now, leading to a similar door, cracked open to let out the soft, orange glow of candlelight.

For a moment, none of them spoke, each taking in their new surroundings. Then, Gil started screaming. He turned and pounded against the door, wailing incoherently as his fists fell in vain. The door remained unmoving.

Sam hardly reacted, sitting on the steps with his head in his hands.

They were both being losers. This was absolutely awesome. It was like something out of a story book. Eagerly, Damian began climbing the stairs. If this was some kind of magic, then maybe there would be a genie or a fairy or something else that granted wishes. He was shocked to feel a thick hand grab his wrist.

It was Gil, breathing heavy and gross, "M-my grandma told me about s-stuff like this. Don't ask f-for anything, don't eat and f-food, and don't say your n-name." Despite his blubbering, his eyes were dead serious. Ridiculous. He actually believed that bullcrap.

Damian twisted his hand away, "Whatever. I'm going to see what's going on." He continued his way up, leaving Gil to tell Sam the same stupid message. As soon as he reached the door, it opened all the way.

"My my." A sweet voice like a breeze through leaves cooed, "It's been a while since I've had visitors." Standing silhouetted in orange candlelight was a beautiful creature. It was almost human, with a similar, if stretched shape. A mask of orange leaves with two dark empty eyeholes pierced by two stubby antlers adorned its head. Its arms were slender and green, wrapped in red raspberry vines stretching from the sleeves of its dress. The dress was woven tightly from raspberry vines, with a short hemline that gave way to long legs that transitioned from human-like to deer-like towards the feet.

The gasp from Gil was deathly. His pasty face had somehow gone paler, and he was plastered against the stone door at the bottom of the stairs.

Sam's reaction was diminutive comparitively. His eyes had gone wide like a yearling's, but otherwise he didn't move.

"Whoa." Damian whispered, mouth slightly ajar. He didn't know what the other two were so afraid of. Whatever this thing was, it was elegant. Definitely the wish granting sort. With a puff of his chest, he spoke loudly, "I am Damian Allen. We are here to... um... well I guess we're just here. What is your name?"

Gil whimpered.

"Call me Grace." It answered with a curtsy, "Please, come in." With a wave of its hand, the roots on the walls came to life, moving like a wave of wind to usher the boys up the steps. While the two cowards had to be pushed in, Damian sauntered up the steps, knowing that everything would be easier if he simply went with the creature's wishes.

They were thrust into its home. The walls were a fine, pale wood, as if the structure was carved into an impossibly large tree. Vines of all shades crawled along the walls, bearing wildflowers of all different varieties. The blooms came together to make living art, depicting moving images of shimmering sunsets and rolling mountainsides. Floral aromas tangled together in the air.

Grace led them down a short hallway, with Damian right behind her. The other two followed hesitantly, now that their only exit was blocked by a mass of vines. Gil looking everywhere with wild eyes while Sam simply took in everything around them with cautious awe. "You're very fortunate, Damian Allen and friends. I was just sitting down for dinner."

"We just ate." Gil squeaked.

Grace paused at an intersection of tunnels, "A shame. I am known among my kind to be quite the baker." A new scent filled the air, one of caramelized sugar and fresh pastry bread.

"I humbly accept," said Damian with a faux-aristocratic tone. He figured they should be showing grace to Grace.

"It does smell good." Sam admitted.

"Excellent." It drifted into the dining room.

As soon as she was out of sight, Gil grabbed his friends and started to run, "Come on!" He hissed, gesturing back towards the door. The vines had receded, leaving the stairway wide open.

Sam seemed to finally come to his senses, gripping Gil's hand and nodding. "This is freakish. Let's go, Damian." His voice was a terse whisper.

"If you guys don't want wishes, that's fine," Damian said loudly, swatting Gil's hand away, "But I'm not leaving without one!"

"Leaving?" The vines crawled back over the door as Grace peeked her head around the corner, eyeless mask staring through them, "But you just arrived. Weren't you so eager to climb my stairs? Don't you want your wishes granted?" Something under the mask shuddered.

"See? I knew it!" Damian shouted. He turned to face his two lackeys, putting his back to Grace.

"Bro she literally didn't say anything about wishes until you brought it up!" Sam shouted back, "You're just making shit up and-" His voice caught in his throat. Behind Damian, Grace had emerged fully, except its legs had become a full deer's body, with its human-like body where the head should be. It's mask had shifted upwards, and now a mangled snout full of jagged teeth protruded from beneath, it's eyes still hidden away. To Damian, it looked glorious.

The other boys screamed and bolted down a side tunnel.

"My dear Damian Allen," Grace sang, lightly touching his shoulders with its human hands. Its gnarled snout came within inches of his ear, "Won't you fetch your friends? You wish for something. It's only fair that you help me find them."

It was right, of course. It was the least he could do if he wanted to ask for something. If anything, it was only the beginning of what he could do to pay off the debt he would incur. He took off after his friends, Grace walking after him at a quick cadence. Its hooves clacked against the wooden floors with a musical rhythm. What a wonderful creature.

As he got further from Grace, the walls lost their vines, leaving them pale and bare, and the candlelight only reached so far. He was soon charging down a completely dark hallway that seemed to go on forever. Luckily, he could hear their clumsy footsteps ahead.

There was a shuffle of quick turning ahead, and he could make out soft light ahead. He came to a room full of trees, lodgepole pines standing straight in the faint light filtering in from above. A canopy of leaves covered the room, but the sparse, green sunlight was apparently enough for the trees to grow tall enough to touch the ceiling. In the dim forest, he could hear ragged breathing.

Damian walked through the trees, following the sound, "Guys you're acting so Ohio right now." They didn't respond. "Honestly, I'm not surprised you're running away. You're just scared of Gil's stupid grandma's stories."

Something slipped on the wood above him. He looked up to see Gil hugging a lodgepole about 15 feet off the ground. His face was red, either from the effort of climbing or the jabs against his grandma. Further up, Sam was nearing the canopy, climbing the thin branches with cautious dexterity.

"Found 'em!" Damian shouted.

Vines began to grow around the trees near the entrance, violently grasping forward towards Sam, forcing him to climb faster. As he came within arm's reach of the canopy, the small branch holding him snapped, sending him plummetting through the forest.

A scream hardly left his throat before a snarl of vines lashed forth to catch him. Grace appeared from behind a tree above, seemingly from thin air. Its gruesome mouth grinned, "Careful, dear." In moments, the vines completely swallowed the boy, leaving nothing behind.

Below, Gil's grip and will were wavering. He squeezed his eyes shut as Sam's shout was cut short.

Damian laughed, "Give it up, doughball! No way you're getting away now!"

Gil wheezed, and tears started to well in his eyes. Above, Grace had turned its attention to him, and began to climb down, like a spider towards a fly.

"Go ahead, crybaby! Cry for your grandma!"

WIth that, Gil's strength left him. He fell into the waiting clutches of writhing vines. As they began to wrap him, he whimpered a single word, "Game?"

At that, the vines stopped, leaving Gil half-cocooned and suspended over Damian.

Grace swept down to him, nose to nose with the crying boy, "Ah. You think this is a story book as well, then? That us fairfolk love our little tricks and games and mischief, in exchange for granting wishes and casting spells? Your species is disgustingly simple."

"No," Gil admitted, taking a shaking breath, "But my grandma told me how to deal with the fairfolk if I ever met them." He wasn't confident. He was sniffling, on the verge of a panic attack, and facing an awesome creature of horrific proportions. "Olmana."

In an eyeblink, they were sitting at a table made of tree roots. Olmana sat in its human form on one end while Damian and Gil sat on the other. The hollow eyes of its mask gazed at them, a feeling of contempt washing from the creature. "Give it back."

Damian had no idea what was happening, and Gil was inconsolably crying with his head in his hands. Were they getting a wish after all? Each of them had a slice of steaming pie with purple filling sitting in front of them.

Finally, Gil pulled himself together to a point where he could at least speak, "Give us back our friend and let us go home." He sniffled again, but he sat straight with his jaw set against the tears.

"And you'll give me back my name." Olmana said, voice rough like wet leaves in the gutter.

Without a word, Gil stood and reached out his hand.

Olmana didn't move, "Contemptuous monkeys."

The three awoke at the bottom of the stairs, burning in the summer sun.

Damian didn't see much of Gil or Sam after that day. He would often see them hanging out together, but they never invited him. If they crossed paths, it was quickly and silently, without even a nod of acknowledgement. He never understood why. They had climbed the stairs and climbed back down, and by the time they reached the bottom the two had silently agreed to hate him.

He found himself at the stairs many days, waiting for something he couldn't place. He would pass days staring up the dilapidated steps, with nothing to keep him company but the occasional whif of berry pie.