annotated floorplan - simple floorplan

Jake didn’t say much on the way up the back stairs and along the hallway that ran through the servants’ quarters. They went all the way to the very end, and into an oddly-shaped room. It held what was clearly a bed, though without headboard or footboard, just a raised area with bedding on it, and an upright dresser, and a narrow tall basket with laundry in it. That took up pretty much all the floorspace.

Jake gestured to the bed. “Sit.” It sounded more like an invitation than an order. There were three framed paintings on the walls, but he picked up one that was actually on the floor in the corner, behind the laundry hamper. He sat on the bed and braced the painting so Leo could look into it.

It looked like a real-world modern hospital, notable only for being empty, though there was something visible in the mirror over the small sink. What was so difficult about it?

Leo perched on the edge and held out both hands towards it.

“Come out the same way as the rest,” Jake said.

“Got it.” Leo leaned forward.

That was apparently enough. The world twisted, and he was in the hospital room.

What was so difficult to...

Oh.

When he looked down at his hands, he could barely see them, just a faint hint of colour and shape. A brief glance at the rest of his body revealed the same.

Being invisible was unsettling, to say the least, but worse was when he reached out to touch the wall and his hand went right through it. Being intangible was... somewhat more so.

He could walk around, at least, and that felt normal.

The room was empty, but on a closer look, it wasn’t cleaned and waiting for a new tenant. The bedding was rumpled, like it had just been pulled back into place after whoever slept in it had gotten up. The bedside table had a pitcher and a mug on it, and what turned out to be the following day’s menu with boxes to check off preferences, half-complete. A hospital-issue robe had been tossed carelessly over the chair. A near-empty bag of IV fluids hung from a pole, the tubing looped over the arm and the needle still on the end. A small rack next to the sink held half a dozen blood sample vials, left there unattended for some reason.

It all strongly suggested that the room still, or until very recently had, had a resident. The silence and the emptiness were downright eerie, though. He kept looking behind him, the insubstantial back of his neck crawling.

The door was open. He made his way over to it and looked out.

The limited amount of hallway he could see, before the blank white background took over, was empty as well. A wheelchair sat in the middle of the hall, a pale blanket on the seat and draped down towards the floor, but there was no sign of life at all.

Leo retreated into the room and prowled another circuit around it. Was he supposed to do something? Find something? He agreed that this was a very different experience, drastically unlike the lighter and more fanciful paintings that were out on the balcony, but something felt... incomplete.

Did ghosts feel like this, when the places they had died were abandoned, leaving them trapped and unable to interact? Could they perceive the living at all? Maybe that was why communication could be so difficult. Was he currently a ghost in a living hospital, unable to see the living people? Even if that wasn’t the intention, it was a sobering kind of thought, and one he hoped he’d be able to remember.

The mirror kept catching his eye, so he turned to take a closer look at that.

There was something going on inside of it that didn’t reflect the room he was in. Bodies moving, a flurry of activity.

He reached out in an instinctive attempt to touch it.

Something flickered, and he was looking into a mirror that showed an empty room, with a lot of noise and motion behind him.

He spun around.

Several hospital staff in scrubs, he couldn’t tell which were doctors or nurses or anything else, clustered around the bed, with a cart full of equipment close at hand, and they were all absolutely intent on whoever was on that bed, one person giving orders and others only replying.

In fact, he couldn’t tell them apart at all: that was technically a viable colour for human skin, sort of pinkish, but all were identical. None had hair, only that same glossy skin. Worse, they lacked anything he could really call a face; the contours offered vague impressions, enough that he could distinguish eyes and nose and mouth, but they were smooth and unbroken and there was absolutely nothing distinctive about any of them. Ideas of people. Stand-in figures.

Leo edged forward. He didn’t want to get any closer to the people working, let alone touch them, but they were too close together, and the only way to get close enough to see was to simply walk into them. It was viscerally uncomfortable, but he really wanted to see who was lying on that bed.

It was just a boy. It was hard to judge his age, considering that he was underweight and pale and unconscious, but probably in his middle teens. He lay there looking so limp and helpless and small while the medical staff worked all around him. Leo knew little about medical procedures and couldn’t identify their actions; he wasn’t sure any of them were actually real, rather than artistic representations, generic impressions akin to the staff themselves. It didn’t matter. It still felt horrible, watching this. The intentions of the staff were clearly to save his life and they were struggling with all they had, but at the same time, it was somehow dehumanizing and impersonal.

Why had Jake painted such a disturbing scene at all?

Something changed in the tone of the staff, and they began to back off. The equipment around them, apparently, showed something more positive than before. The boy actually stirred, just a little, and his next breath came in a soft whimper that trailed into a sigh.

Leo wanted desperately to speak to him, reassure him, let him know that he wasn’t alone. He made his way over to the bed, avoiding the dispersing staff and the one figure who was still checking on things and making sure the IV on its pole was dripping properly down into the boy’s veins. He reached out and tried to lay a hand on the unconscious boy’s forehead, but there was no contact, he just went straight through.

He’d had some disturbing nights after trying to help a ghost, when he’d had vivid dreams that just might be how that ghost had died. This reminded him of that, although he was awake instead of trapped in a dream. He knew he could handle it.

He just didn’t particularly want to. With any luck, that was long enough to prove whatever he was supposed to prove.

“I’m leaving,” he said into the room. There was no sound, but it crystallized the intention sufficiently for it to work.

Everything warped and he was sitting on the bed across from Jake—who had turned the painting so he could look into it.

“That was creepy,” Leo said. “Someone you know?”

Jake just shrugged. “Not everything that comes to me is light and fun. You stayed. And found the mirror.”

“Yes.”

Jake ducked his head in a nod. “Did really good. Not giving you other heavy ones now. Go walk around. Visit Fi or something. Be here.”

“That’s probably not a bad idea, getting grounded again.”

“Got more darker ones. But go slow on them.”

“Got it. Who have I not had much interaction with yet? I suppose that would be Thalia? I’ve heard of her but haven’t even met her yet. Over by the library, right?”

“Yes. There’s also Cosmo.”

“Right. I think I heard the name a couple of times, that’s all. Wanda missed him somehow.”

“This floor. Past the balcony as far as you can go, and turn, and keep going.”

“Sure. And that’ll put me not too far from Thalia afterwards. Can’t miss meeting everyone.”

“Of course not. Someone’s told both by now to take off the kid gloves.”

“I really hope I can live up to that. Right. I imagine I’ll see you again before too long.”

“Yes.”

The house layout wasn’t really all that complicated, once you started to build up a mental map. It was, after all, largely constructed around that one central corridor on each floor, with a little more complexity right at the ends.

He stopped in Ophelia’s open door to greet her.

“Doing okay?” she asked.

“So far so good. And I am more determined by the moment to prove that I should get to remember tonight, even more than wanting to get back the ones Tarragon says have been buried before. I haven’t met Thalia or Cosmo yet, so I should really go do that.”

“You should,” she agreed. “I have a particularly fun potion waiting for you, the next time you come back this way. I didn’t bother with a trio, just assumed you’d pick the most challenging one. But it was a tough choice, and I have others. Maybe I’ll just let you pick between three that are all the challenging sort.”

“There’s probably no point to asking, is there?”

She laughed. “Correct. My potions tend to cause physical alterations of various kinds, either on the person drinking it or on their interaction with their environment, like turning off gravity. Thalia can have more subtle effects that may affect the mind or perceptions as well. The plants she has down there come from some very exotic locations and can do some very exotic things, used right.”

No mention of Cosmo, he noticed. “Can’t wait. And I’ll be back later, I promise.”

“Have fun.”

Leo continued on down the hall. When it ended, he could only go left anyway, so he did, and the hall ended at a door that was ajar.

“Hello?” he said, pushing it open.

“Leo! Hello! Come in!”

“I have a reputation already?”

He hadn’t really expected to step into a room that was wall-to-wall sewing materials and tools and projects, but on reflection, there was really no reason why not.

The animated ceramic figure that was presumably Cosmo chuckled, walking towards him. “Oh, word has gone around that some of my family who have spent time with you want badly for you to not forget them. It is a family and we do talk to each other. And what I’m hearing is that you’re highly resilient, and Jake talks to you, and you brought back a friend from a travel journal—I need to see that, I’m curious. But for the moment, you need a challenge. That can be tricky with clothing, since associations vary so much, but I think I at least have something that will be a physical challenge if not a mental one. Let’s make sure it fits.” Cosmo extended one white hand; Leo laid his over it. The texture was smooth and cool but not cold or hard.

Cosmo’s proportions and build shifted.

“There. As long as I put everything on at least briefly first, it will all be exactly the right size. Here, have a seat, and I’ll put together the perfect combination. Which you’ll be able to see on me first, exactly the way it will look on you.”

How hard could clothes be, after what he’d experienced so far?

Leo sat down on the indicated upholstered stool, facing towards the broad double doors Cosmo vanished through.

There were a lot of motion sounds, and after a moment, Cosmo flung the doors open. “I think this would suit you perfectly.”

Leo looked him over thoughtfully, then shrugged. Did Cosmo expect dressing like a girl to be a problem? “I think that’s going to take a little getting used to, but it looks amazing on you.”

“Which is how it’s going to fit you. And I think the royal blue and magenta works beautifully with your colouring. I’m going to take this off and leave it here in the dressing room for you, but I imagine you’ll need some help so I’ll be right here.”

“Yes, I definitely will.” Leo shrugged to himself and got up.

“There’s a basket there you can put your things in. They’ll be safe until you want them.”

“I think my bag is down in the games room still, actually. I’m just leaving stuff everywhere. I’m as bad as my mother always told me.”

“Do what you can. I’ll be back in just a moment, I just want to run down to see Thalia. I should be back before you need me.”

In the dressing room, Leo stripped to the skin and left his clothes in the basket.

Underwear all in one piece, upper and lower body. He was fairly sure he hadn’t worn anything like that since he was a baby. It was easy to put on, though, even the little hooks weren’t so bad.

The socks were weirdly non-stretchy, but the satin-and-lace loops that were with them weren’t all that complicated to puzzle out. The lace at the top of the socks, or stockings, or whatever, made sure the garters held them up fairly securely.

The black ankle boots beneath had rather small buttons and took a moment of fumbling to get them fastened properly. They had heels, but they weren’t very high or narrow and he didn’t think they were going to be a problem. He stood up and walked around the dressing room just to confirm that fact.

The next thing in the pile was an actual corset of white satiny fabric with a soft light-gold pattern woven into it.

Figuring out how to wrap it around and fasten the clasps along the front, that wasn’t so bad, but he had no idea what to do with it from there.

“Um, Cosmo?” He opened one of the doors. “I think I’ve come to the end of what I can do alone. Or understand alone, really.”

“There’s a reason women hired maids if they could afford it.” Cosmo came over immediately. “This isn’t going to make it difficult to breathe or anything absurd like that. Period corsets were not meant to be that extreme, the rest of the clothing was designed to enhance that hourglass shape and tight-lacing was, to say the least, highly controversial. It just offers a bit of support and contouring.”

“All right. I’ll take your word for it.” His breath did catch as it tightened, but it wasn’t exactly uncomfortable. The pressure was uneven, higher around his waist than above or below, but he could feel at least a little along its entire length.

“Doing okay?”

“It’s not a problem.”

Cosmo tightened it a bit more, then tied it off and wrapped the remaining laces around Leo’s body from behind and circled around to tie them in a quick bow. They were kept below the waistline by a tiny flat hook Leo hadn’t even noticed.

“The next thing should be a corset cover,” Cosmo said, stepping past Leo to fetch the thin sleeveless top.

Leo contemplated his reflection instead. “That’s an interesting look.” It actually did give him a suggestion of feminine curves, even without being so tight that it hurt or interfered with his breathing.

“Wait until we’re done. Here, put this on, and I’ll get the petticoats.”

The corset cover was all but weightless, more delicate than anything Leo was used to handling. It had very short sleeves and more small hooks.

Then there was a voluminous skirt, which went over his head and was pulled down, as white as the rest of the outfit so far; Cosmo straightened it and fastened the waistband with buttons and turned it so it was aligned properly. Then there was a second petticoat, this one royal blue with a doubled magenta ruffle along the bottom, and there were a lot of extra ruffles running down the back of it.

“That’s it for the underwear,” Cosmo said cheerfully.

“It already feels like more than I normally wear.”

“Fashions change.” Cosmo gathered up a large amount of blue and magenta. “Here’s the skirt. Over your head, like the rest... there we go.” He fussed with it for a moment.

“There’s a lot more behind me than in front of me.”

“Of course there is. You need to have that fashionable silhouette. This is a simple version, I’m being at least somewhat kind—what you have is gathers and ruffles that enhance the volume of your backside.”

“The things women have suffered for the sake of being fashionable...”

“There’s plenty across time and space I won’t even touch, or I will only on request because someone really wants to try something and I believe they know what they’re doing. There, perfect. We aren’t going to be able to do anything with your hair, especially not quickly enough for you to get on with your night, and cosmetics were frowned on at the time of this outfit despite Mistress’ current fondness for them, but I did get you something from Thalia.” Cosmo ducked back into the dressing room and returned with a short jacket in the same royal blue and magenta. “Before you put this on, rub what’s in the jar into all exposed skin. For a while, it’ll smooth everything out and make all hair disappear. Keep it away from your eyes, Thalia says.”

Leo accepted the jar and opened it. The contents were thick and creamy and pale with a very faint orange-pink tint. With a shrug, he began to rub it into whatever skin he could reach.

The results weren’t instantaneous, but after a moment, his skin did feel softer, and anywhere he checked had first less hair, then none at all.

That was certainly handy. The awareness of not having shaved since that morning and of generally not being, well, all that feminine had been nagging in the back of his mind, that no matter how the rest looked, he was still going to very obviously be a man in a dress. The face in the mirror was still his, but that smoother skin definitely made a difference. The creamy stuff soaked in and disappeared without any greasiness, even.

“There, that’s better,” Cosmo said. “Not that I honestly believe there are women’s clothes and men’s clothes with some hard barrier between. If you’re wearing them, they’re your clothes. But associations are a very real thing and can make all the difference in the way something feels. Just put the lid back on that, I’ll toss it in with your things, and we’ll get this last piece on you.”

The jacket-like thing turned out to have a strap from each side-seam on the inside that fastened across his waist, apparently taking pressure off the buttons at the front, and then fastened up the front with magenta buttons; the neck was higher than he was ready for, but not too tight around his throat. The rich blue material had magenta trim along the edges and some decorative bits down the front.

Without the chest being filled out much, the outline was less dramatic than perhaps it could have been, but nonetheless, the cut of the jacket added a bit of width, and the layers and flounces of the skirt did, and all in all, it did create more of a narrow-waisted outline than Leo had really expected.

He twisted back and forth as he regarded his reflection, watching the layers of skirts swishing around him.

“That is really impressive. It doesn’t weigh as much as I expected, either, but man, that is a lot of fabric to get in the way. I’m not sure how much the whole thing limits movement, but it definitely wants me to stand up a lot more straight than I’m used to.”

“That was part of the ideal at the time. Clothes were meant to encourage proper posture. It may limit freedom of motion a little, but this house was built to a scale meant to allow for the bulk of full skirts and the like, unlike anything from the second half of the twentieth century onwards. You won’t be outside indulging in physical activity tonight. So there should be nothing to worry about.”

That might all be true, but Leo was pretty sure that he was going to be constantly conscious of his current clothes. Not because they were women’s clothes. That actually felt oddly comfortable somewhere in his head, and he rather liked how it all looked. It would just be hard to be unaware of the unfamiliar pressure and weight and bulk and swing of them.

“You are, however, ready to go,” Cosmo said. “We could spend half the rest of the night looking through my wig collection and then trying to find an authentic style that suits you, but that seems counterproductive. You look wonderful as it is. Go amaze my family.”

“With your work, or with the fact that I’m not upset you dressed me up like a woman from the time the house was built?”

Cosmo laughed. “Either. Both. Shoo. Your clothes will be here when you want them.”

Even just walking across a room in all this felt different. Not bad, just different.

Well, there was still plenty of night left ahead, and this house still had more secrets for him to find and more strange things to experience.