open post: further up and further in

[magicianking]

Eliot hasn't been depressed, per se, because it's sort of impossible to be depressed in Fillory. There's too much to do, these days: rebuilding Castle Whitespire, helping Josh and Poppy with the baby, and generally trying to run a post-apocalyptic-but-now-pretty-much-fine magical kingdom. Being High King of Fillory is, not to be totally cliche, Eliot's calling, and he's found a peace that he never had before. But it still sucks absolute balls that both Quentin and Janet are gone.

When Janet had first disappeared, Eliot had devoted all of his kingly resources to trying to find her. None of their world-jumping buttons had been missing, so he'd promised a knighthood and a castle to anyone in Fillory who found the missing Queen Janet.

"She won't love being treated like a damsel in distress like this," Poppy had told him.

"Well, if you have a better idea," he'd snapped, and that had been that, until a letter had arrived in the gazing pool. It had been frustratingly contextless, but obviously from Janet.

"Where is she?" Josh asked at the next meeting of the monarchs.

"I don't know. She's trapped, but she seems more annoyed than in danger."

"So she's in another universe? Since she had to use your telegram thing?" Poppy asked.

"Seems likely."

All of them had lapsed into silence.

"Should we call off the Queen hunt? Some of them are getting a little Don Quixote out there," said Poppy.

"No," Eliot had decided. "Just in case." Damsel in distress, Janet was not; but hell if he would ever be the one to give up on finding her.

--

Eliot's on his way to check on the progress of Castle Whitespire, wandering up the path from the comfortable townhouse he's been staying in, when the ground changes abruptly beneath his feet. He stumbles, and when he looks up--Dorothy, he is not in magical Kansas any more. Not in Oz any more? Whatever. The energy of wherever he is is totally different. He doesn't think it's Earth, either, despite the fact that he's in front of a huge Earth-style mansion.

"What the fuck," he mutters, and opens the door.

Comments

[sorrowandsorrow]

"Awww, he can be taught," Janet says, only a little meanly. Her hopes aren't soaring or anything, but she is feeling hopeful, which is putting her on the offensive. She strides inside, pulling Eliot with her. "Come on, you piece of shit. Take me home."

[magicianking]

"No pressure, jesus," Eliot says, keeping his tone light. He's not as hopeful, though. If he's learned anything, it's that world-hopping magic almost never does what you want it to.

[sorrowandsorrow]

"What, you don't thrive under pressure anymore, Mister Brakebills Graduate?" Janet knocks lightly on the side of the grandfather clock, like a talking animal might pop out and escort her back to her throne.

[magicianking]

"I've gone soft in my kinghood. My reign?"

[sorrowandsorrow]

"Well, yeah, duh. It's the dearth of Fillorian cocaine."

[magicianking]

Eliot snorts, then tries just opening the grandfather clock and peering inside. Disappointingly, there's only the pendulum, hanging like a disappointing uvula. He can't feel any magic, but... "Want to try, just, like, getting in? Then if that doesn't work we try setting up a portal in there."

[sorrowandsorrow]

"Okay," Janet says, "but if this is a Punk'd situation for you to make fun of me for stuffing myself into a clock, your ass is grass." Weirdly, though, she actually trusts Eliot, so she does her level best to stuff herself into a grandfather clock like a good sport. Nothing much happens, except that now a queen of Fillory is wedged into a clock.

[magicianking]

"Hmm, okay, well." Eliot tries not to let his heart sink, but it's sinking. Part of him had really thought this would work right away. "I'll try some portal shit."

[sorrowandsorrow]

"Please do," Janet says, as loftily as a queen can say anything while she's inside a clock. She clambers out, smoothing down her blouse to distract herself from her own disappointment. "Make me jealous of how good you are."

[magicianking]

Eliot tries some portal shit. He's glad he carries various spellcasting components on his belt nowadays, even if it makes him feel like someone's dorky Dungeons & Dragons character or some kind of stupid fantasy Batman. The words and gestures come to him as easily as ever, after being drilled into him by Mayakovsky.

When he's finished, a portal wobbles queasily into being behind and around the clock, but nothing's on the other side. It's blank and white, like a Word document. Eliot touches it, experimentally. Nothing happens.

"Well, don't be mad," he says.

[sorrowandsorrow]

"What the fuck," Janet mutters, eyeing the fake portal. She wonders what would happen if she tossed something through it. Would it come back? Or just get swallowed up by the void? "I'm not mad at you. Have you ever seen something like this before?"