Part 1

Drip. Drip. Drip.

“Can you please send someone over? It's driving me nuts!” complained Kara Espinoza. On the other end of the line was her property management company rep, Susanne. She maintained a tone of professional courtesy in her voice, but it came across as a little insincere over the sound of a Christmas party in the background.

“Let's see...I can have someone out to take a look on...Tuesday. I'm sorry, but it is the holidays.”

Kara winced. “Three days? O have to put up with all through Christmas! It'll be swamp down there by then! Don't even care about the foundation of this place?”

Susanne chuckled. Sympathetically, of course. “Ma'am, a drip isn't going to do the foundation any real harm, certainly not over the course of a weekend. If you're really so bothered by the sound, play some music or put on headphones or something. I'm sorry, but most plumbers will charge double or more to go on Christmas Eve.”

Kara rubbed between her eyes. “Fucking tightwad cheapskates...”

“Ma'am, that is really uncalled for. On a completely unrelated note, we're still waiting on your rent check for December. How is that coming along?”

Kara's shoulders sagged. “Yeah, I uh...it might be a little while...”

“Well, I can give give you a little more time, but please, make this a priority. I understand that the place isn't perfect, and a little give and take is the foundation of a good relationship, but you're really starting to make me look bad. A lot of managers would already have the eviction notice posted. You understand the position I'm in, don't you?”

“...yes, I understand.” said Kara, feeling a little sick.

“Okay. I'll book an appointment for Tuesday afternoon. You have a nice day. Merry Christmas.”

Kara seethed as the line went dead. The dripping sound coming from below her apartment's floorboards hadn't started recently, but it had gotten on her nerves more and more in the last few days. She had spent most of the night before tossing and turning and trying to stuff her pillow into her ears.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

Maybe it was just the time of year that was getting to her. She had more or less decided to just skip Christmas this year. She had just finished her Political Science degree, and after five tears of telling herself that she would know what she wanted to do with her life by the time she graduated, that hadn't turned out to be the case. Her family were reasonably loving and supportive, but she hated the thought of spending time with them without having a clearer idea of how she was going to pay the bills in the near future. Being behind on the rent felt like an illness she was suffering from. Her stomach felt like it was full of acid (it was, but it wasn't supposed to feel like it) which all but made it impossible to press harder on her plumbing issues. She had no money to celebrate with, and frankly, she felt that there was little to celebrate right now. She was getting worried that her landlord would lose patience and simply have her evicted. Nothing about the house felt secure. Nothing in her life felt secure. The dripping sound just seemed to underline that fact.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

Kara tried to ignore the sound. Even with her headphones in, the constant dripping seemed to always be sitting just on the edge of her consciousness. It dripped as she prepared her dinner (fried potatoes with ketchup packets she had judiciously saved). It dripped as she watched Youtube videos (Netflix was a luxury she could no longer justify) It dripped as she finally climbed into bed, set aside her phone, and tried to sleep.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

And tried to sleep.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

And tried to sleep.

Drip. Drip. Drippity-drip.

Kara threw aside her blankets in rage. She really needed a good night's sleep. She couldn't solve any of her problems if it felt like she was lost in an itchy haze. Clearly, ignoring this problem was not a workable option. Swallowing a lump in her throat, she decided to do something truly drastic. Something that she never normally think of as an option. She refused to allow the dripping sound to burrow any further into her brain than it already had. She decided, with a deep steadying breath, to brave the crawlspace and see what she could do for herself.

The entrance to the crawlspace was in her bedroom closet under a heavy wooden panel covered in carpet. Kara had to move her shoes and several boxes of old books, then find a thick butter knife to pry it up. She decided to put on some of her older clothes with holes and tears, so that she wouldn't ruin any of her nice clothing. She found an old flashlight to help her navigate underneath (although she was by no means certain of the batteries), but she found a bare light-bulb with a pull-chain near the entrance, so there was little need for it. It wasn't quite as cramped as she had imagined it might be, but her concerns regarding spiders proved much more valid. She couldn't move more than a few feet without disturbing one of the dozens of cobwebs that were strung up all around her. The floor was covered in black plastic covers that were torn or pulled aside in places, showing the sandy earth underneath. A white powder had been scattered around, for what purpose Kara couldn't guess, she could only hope that it wasn't something dangerous. The drip was coming from a little ways off, although she couldn't see exactly where, as the branching assemblage of ventilation ducts coming off the furnace were in the way. Plucking up her courage, Kara began hunting for a way to reach it.

She only recognized some of what was in the way. At first, it all looked intimidatingly complicated, but gradually, she began to piece together which plumbing connected to each of the amenities above. “Let's see...” she muttered under her breath as she crawled under a piece of string that was stretching between two support pillars for seemingly no reason. “Those go to the kitchen faucet, there's the bathtub drain, there's a rat that snuck in and died, ewww...there's the connections to the water heater in the closet...” There was a kind of weird fascination that began to build as she picked her way through the cramped spaces between obstacles. This was the other half of her home, the place where all the stuff that made it work was kept. It was oddly comforting to see it, even it was kind of gross and scary. It made the place feel more...complete somehow.

She had to press herself against the dirty floor to wedge herself under one of the larger ducts. She tried to ignore all the cobwebs that were getting in her hair as she did. Once free, she had to stop and clean her glasses, as the dust and cobwebs had rendered them virtually opaque. Finally, she spotted a thin, rusty old pipe that was steadily dripping down onto chunk of lose brick. She searched around for a valve to turn, but there wasn't one nearby, and anyway, she now recognized that this was the line that refilled her toilet, so she could hardly afford to shut it off. Best to just try to muffle the sound. She moved the brick out of the path of the drip, and found that this greatly reduced the harshness of the dripping noise. She grabbed a few handfuls of loose foam insulation and piled them at the spot, and found that this rendered the sound nearly inaudible, even down here at close range.

She sighed with relief. Sure, the water line was rusted to hell and back and would almost certainly need to replaced, but she felt a sense of accomplishment for having overcome her fears. She took a deep, dusty breath to steady herself for the crawl back to the entrance.

Then, she spotted the door.

The door was small, perhaps two and a half feet in height. It was neatly carved, with beveled edges and an intricate knot design around the trim and a heart-shaped opening above the center. It reminded her of a birdhouse from one of those cutesy arts-and-crafts magazines. It had a tiny little knob made of shiny brass. Despite every other surface in the crawlspace being covered in a fine layer of dust, the little knob looked like it had been polished this morning. It was so completely out of place among the sawdust and cobwebs and furnace ducting that it immediately captured all of Kara's attention. It looked like a door intended for some kind of pixie or gnome. The patch of old-fashioned brickwork that surrounded it cut through the very concrete foundation of the house. Kara immediately wanted to know how such a door could have gotten there, and where it might lead. She blinked hard a few times to see if it would disappear from her vision. She thought that it must exit the house out into the back yard, but she had gotten so turned around crawling among all the ductwork and other obstacles that she could not really be certain.

Having seen the door, Kara knew with certainty that she had no choice but to open it and see where it could possibly lead. If a persistent drip had been enough to keep her up at night, there was no chance whatsoever that she could fall asleep with something like this below her. This thing had zero business existing at all, and yet it sat there, quietly waiting for her.

She approached the little door and turned the handle. She had expected the handle to be entirely decorative, but it twisted smoothly, and with a faint metallic click, the door opened. A warm, gentle breeze wafted over her as it swung silently on its hinges. Her heart picked up speed. Right away, she was conscious of the fact that a large area had just opened up. The light from behind her did not reach into the dark, narrow passageway, but she saw a dim light far up ahead. She stopped for a moment to sniff the fragrant air. It stirred memories of long ago. The smoke of a fire, the light scent of pine, tinged with the sweetness of freshly-baked cookies. A deliciously comforting medley of scents, and yet down here, it seemed vaguely threatening.

She knew that it was a big risk to enter the little passage. She knew that something like this could not and should not really be here. This was something totally unlike anything she had experienced before, it was like a hole in the edge of the world as she understood it. But to close the door and turn back now would be unthinkable, a slap in the face to all the wonder and curiosity that was bubbling up inside her. She wasn't the sort of girl to throw away her letter from Hogwarts. She wiped glasses again, dipped her head down, and slipped inside.

The passage was so narrow that she had to step carefully to stop her shoulders from scraping against the sides. The floor was cold and hard under her hands and knees, but at least it was smooth, like brick or tile. Her glasses slipped down over her mouth, and it took her a few tries to get enough elbow room to adjust them. As she went on, she noticed that the floor was also gradually growing warmer. It also seemed to grow softer and more yielding as she went, going from brick to rubber to cushion, until it felt like she was crawling through a giant sponge cake.

The light at the far end was coming from another door, almost identical to the first, but painted in very bright white. The heart-shaped window was beaming a faint yellow glow into the tunnel, illuminating the walls. The walls didn't even look like walls at this end, more like vague outlines of silvery smoke. The floor beneath her was like what she had once imagined walking on a cloud would be like. If she were not so intensely curious, she might have laid down to sleep on the warm cushioning.

The handle on this side turned just as easily, and then door opened smoothly to reveal a polished tile floor with a green and white checkerboard pattern, coated with a patchwork of light and shadows. The scent of smoke, pine, and freshly-baked desserts was overpoweringly strong now. A fire was crackling away somewhere. Kara crawled out and looked around in awe.

As she had guessed, the area on this side was wide open. She found herself in a long hallway, decorated with huge landscape paintings and long stretches of sparkling tinsel. The walls were of gleaming white with elegant wainscoting. Marble pillars and antique vases were scattered tastefully along the hall's incredible length, making the place feel like Buckingham or Versailles. Several bright green doors were space along the hallway, all decorated with festive wreaths and all at least ten feet from top to bottom. The ceiling was vaulted, and there were glowing glass chandeliers hanging from the ceiling every few yards, covering everything in dim, uneven light. The ceiling, she now saw, was easily fifteen feet above her. This wasn't merely a house, but a mansion. Maybe even a palace, and one clearly intended for residents considerably larger than Kara.

Kara was no fool. She didn't know where she was exactly, but she was wary of the hall as soon as she saw it. This was clearly some kind of otherworldly place. It made her think of the castle that Jack had found at the top of the beanstock, or the shimmering golden palace that Hades had brought Persephone to. Those were the kind of places that were often tough to get out of for the curious heroes who found them. The fact that the place was so warm and beautiful and inviting made Kara even more wary of it. She turned around to make sure the little door was still there. It was. She tried the handle. It turned easily. She tried the hinges. They showed no sign of preparing to snap closed behind her. She reached into her pocket for her wallet. It wasn't like there was much cash in it, after all, and she would feel better about the door if she could wedge something in to stop it closing.

Her wallet was not there. Nor was the pocket that had held it. Kara's probing fingers encountered only a smooth bulge of plastic material as she patted her sides.

She looked down, and gave little squeak of fright at what she saw. Her worn, faded hoodie was gone. Her threadbare jeans with one knee hanging open and the other not far behind were also gone. She was now wearing a tight pink tank top with a picture of a sleepy cartoon koala sitting on a cloud and holding a bunch of balloons. Even in childhood, Kara doubted that she had ever worn anything so cutesy and saccharine. Below her waist, she wore nothing except an absolutely massive disposable diaper. It was easily three inches thick at the rear, making her butt seem enormous. The front panel showed the outlines of two unicorns, their slender horns meeting at a shining star. The glossy backing actually sparkled faintly in the shifting lights of the chandeliers. She wondered when it could possibly have materialized without her noticing. She concluded that it must have been so soft and fluffy that she had simply missed it in the cloud-like tunnel behind her.