gave Peter a look. He raised his hands. “Never mind.”
“We make progress with every step,” said Puck, “so let us not stop here. Come!” He led the way across the grounds.
Rosemary’s dress was too long now that it wasn’t held out by crinolines. She stumbled over the hem several times, and finally, nearing the crest of a hill, she tripped on it and fell over. “This is ridiculous! The sooner we finish this challenge the better!” Peter helped her up. “What do we have to do?”
Puck was standing up the slope, looking over the hill. “Keep our feet, Sage Rosemary. And keep our heads.”
Peter loosened his ascot and handed it to her. “Here. Belt it up.”
Rosemary hoisted her skirts and tied the grey sash around her waist. Thunder rolled across the sky. “I hope this challenge is indoors. Puck, what are you looking at?” She came up to the crest of the hill and stopped in her tracks. “Oh, no.”
A mansion of dark stone and crooked shutters frowned across at them. Behind it, a towering black cloud flashed with lighting. At the roof’s peak, a weathervane in the shape of a running maiden spun wildly. They could hear its little metal cries.
Rosemary took a step back, pressing into Puck. “I know what this is,” she said. “I know enough to know we shouldn’t go in there!”
“But the challenge —” Puck began.
“I don’t care about the challenge!” said Rosemary, shaking. “We go around or something.”
Peter was ahead of them by a few paces, standing just past the crest. “Or something?” he echoed. “Rosemary, look at this.”
Rosemary and Puck climbed the rest of the way to him and looked.
The front door of the house was before them. The wings of it stretched out on either side, and kept on stretching. Rosemary’s gaze followed the roofline as it rolled over the hills to the darkening horizon, like the Great Wall of China. “That’s not fair!”
Puck squeezed her shoulder. “It is the Land of Fiction. It is not meant to be fair.”
Lightning flashed. Peter blinked. “Look, a Zeppelin! Isn’t it bad for them to be out in storms?”
Rosemary started and followed Peter’s pointing finger. In the distance, a long, cigar-shaped airship hovered over a wing of the house. She looked down at her dress and back towards it. “Did they even have Zeppelins back ... uh ... now?”
Peter shrugged.
Puck stepped forward, rubbing his chin. “A ship that floats in the sky? My, my!”
The airship made a slow turn towards them. Rosemary shivered. Lightning flashed again. “Come on. Let’s get inside before it rains.” She led the way down the hill to the front door.
Peter and Puck followed as she crunched across the gravel driveway. A single crow cawed, and there was a rumble of thunder. Rosemary craned her neck up at the grey face of the house and hesitated. Peter eased her forward, up the marble steps.
Thunder cracked. Rain started suddenly, coming down in torrents. As Rosemary reached up to knock, the door creaked opened by itself.
“Oh, that can’t be good,” said Peter.
“Nope,” said Rosemary. Without thinking, she took his hand. Together, they stepped inside.
They entered a panelled lobby, hung with huge portraits and rusting swords. Dim gas lamps filled the space with flickering shadow. Heavy velvet drapes stirred in cold drafts. They edged forward, footsteps echoing. The door creaked closed behind them and shut with a click. Peter shivered. “What do we do now?”
Rosemary shrugged. “Get through the house, I guess. We look for a back door. I just hope nobody notices us.” They stepped forward.
Rosemary felt something tug at her hem and she whirled around. A suit of armour staggered forward and she ducked back with a scream. The armour toppled to the floor, smashing to pieces with a gigantic crash. The metal clatter echoed and re-echoed through the house for several minutes before finally dying down.
Peter bit his lip. Puck avoided her eyes. Rosemary stood surrounded by pieces of armour, the hem of her dress still snagged on the axe handle. She yanked it free. “I hate this dress,” she muttered.
“Think somebody noticed us?” said Peter.
“Shut up!”
The wind rose. It snuffled into small holes and openings and moaned down the hallways.
Peter and Rosemary drew closer together. “I have a bad feeling about this,” he said.
“Yeah. Come on.”
They started forward. Then a trap door opened beneath their feet and they fell with a single scream.
Peter and Rosemary found themselves sliding down a chute. They smashed through a swinging door and then they were rolling across a carpeted hallway, landing in a tangled heap against a wall. Puck somersaulted out of the hatch and landed nimbly on his feet beside them.
Rosemary’s skirts had flown up and tangled around her head. She felt as if she were tied in a sack. She flailed her way free. “Right!” she said. “That’s it! I might have to do a haunted house, but I won’t do this stupid dress!” She tore at it, sending tiny black buttons flying. She yanked the skirt back up over her head.
“Rosemary, w-what are you doing?” Peter stuttered. White undergarments were emerging from the tangle of blue and green. “Calm down!”
“I’ll be ... calm,” she grunted, struggling inside the taffeta. “I’ll be ... calm ... as soon ... as I get ... this thing ... off!” Rosemary’s head burst out of the dress, and she flung it aside in triumph. Her Victorian updo was a frizzled wreck. “There,” she said. “Now I’m calm!”
She stood up and saw Peter staring at her bloomers and camisole, agog. “What?” she said. “I’m wearing lots!”
“Well, yeah, but all of that’s underw—” He faltered. “I mean, you’re —” Silence stretched. “You look fine.” He turned away. “What do we do now?”
“We look for stairs,” said Rosemary.
They were in a narrow, dim corridor. Around them, the jet buttons glittered like eyes.
“But this place could be full of ...” Peter waved his hands. “Anything! What do we do?”
“Calm down. It’s going to be okay.”
He frowned at her. “How do you know?”
“It’s just a feeling.”
“But —” Peter began, but Puck cut him off.
“What did I tell you about her instinct?” said Puck. “Sage Rosemary, where do you think we should go next?”
She
