The Road to Riches

A pair of darkened, tired eyes fell upon the extravagant palace, following a path up the walls which touched the very stars it had been built under. The stone seemed to stretch on forever, and perhaps it really did. No one knew much about this place, after all.

Despite its intimidating grandeur, the entrance still felt eerily welcoming. The journey had been long and the terrain near impossible to traverse, so the prospect of any shelter at all was a comforting one. Of course, though, she knew not to fall for the feeling. That was what it expected her to do. Instead, she straightened her back, clenched her jaw, and pressed a dirty palm against the doors in order to push her way inside. She'd come too far to falter now. Her father may have begged her not to go, her mother may have cried, but she knew this was something she needed to do and so four nights ago, she'd snuck out from the window of her home to begin her journey here. It wasn't like the sheriff was ever going to get off his ass and do anything about this place, after all. She was the only hope her village had left.

But Gods, with only one step into this world of riches, she knew it was not a task she would be able to complete easily.

The smell of freshly-baked bread. The soft sound of trickling water. The forgiving sensation of rug underfoot, as opposed to the jagged rocks that she had crawled over to arrive here. The sensations all hit her like a wave, and against her will, a breath of sheer relief escaped from her mouth. She tried to swallow it as quickly as she could. Her resolve couldn’t falter, not even for a second, no matter how tired she was. It was a trick. It was all just a trick.

This is what it did to you.

The palace on top of the mountain was described differently by different people, but they led to the same conclusions. It was everything you wanted. It was everything that felt safe, and warm, and familiar. That was where the process began. Magic wrapped itself around these rooms like a vice. You couldn’t escape it if you tried. And after the long, lonely journey, it was easy to fall into the arms of what awaited you as you would a long-lost friend,

The owner of this place was no friend though. She was reminded of that every time she passed the graveyard in her village, filled with the slabs of those who’d come here, desperate and vulnerable and with nothing left to lose, each one thinking that they would be different to the last- that they would outlive the man on the mountain. They never did. But that was how poverty worked, after all. It stripped you of logic. All you wanted was a chance. And people were willing to barter their soul for it.

She knew this, and she knew it intimately. Her brother’s name was amongst those slabs.

The lights glimmered innocently at her as she walked through the corridors, unsure where she was headed, but knowing that she would eventually find what she was looking for amongst the winding passages which made up the palace. And, predictably, as soon as the thought passed over her mind, the corridor listened and breathed out in response, expanded into what quickly became a vast hall. Her feet halted sharply, and the hairs on the back of her neck rose in ancient, primal warning:

She was no longer alone.

“Maya. Welcome to my home. I’ve been expecting you.”

The softest voice in the world, like silk under hand. A shudder crawled up her spine as she looked upward; past the marble staircase which had materialised ahead of her, past the rows of ornate statues which adorned each wall, and directly into the eyes of the person she had spent four days travelling between valleys and across rivers and over mountains to find.

He smiled at her, and it was breath-taking. “Do you like it here?” He asked, waving a hand around his palace.

Yes, she wanted to whisper, feeling the strings of her heart twinge with desperation. The elderly woman on the other side of the village had told her he would look tall, with dark skin and piercing eyes, but the younger brother of another victim had warned her that it would be a woman with a delicate face and hair that could shine even under the dimmest of lights. This man was neither of those descriptions. It didn’t surprise her. They were supposed to be everything you ever wanted, and that was a desire unique to the individual.

She shrugged at his question. “I’ve come for my wishes,” she declared through gritted teeth, ignoring the urge that began at her knees and worked its way up her spine, telling her to drop low and show respect. It was a thought that did not belong to her. And if there was one thing she would never do, it was bow to a rich man. “They tell me you grant them to anyone who asks.”

He smiled at her slowly, as if he knew everything going through her mind. Maybe he did. But something told her if that was the case, then she would have been dead as soon as she’d stepped through the doors. “It is true,” he confirmed with a single nod, “anyone who can make it all the way up the mountain is welcome to all I have at my disposal.”

Bow. The urge got stronger, and she was so tired. She’d been walking for miles, whereas he stood there in front of her with all the health in the world, not a fleck of dirt on his well-kept face. Her knees held out though, because she had no other choice. The alternative was to give in, and once the process had started, it never stopped. Maya had not come to this place unprepared. Scrolls, texts, stories; she had squeezed all the knowledge she could from them in anticipation of this day. And so she knew that to sit down here- to rest, to let your guard down even for a moment, was to give up your control. The journey was designed to weaken your resolve, and then the warm, welcoming palace was there to catch you at your lowest. Then, if all went to plan and you got what you came for, the man on the mountain was free to play catch with your broken spirit. If it had already taken everything from a person to even reach the place, then plucking their final defences away from them was nothing.

So no. She did not bow.

He observed her for a few more seconds, a curious glint forming in his piercing blue eyes. Then he cocked his head at her. “What have you come for?” He asked directly, kindness dripping off his every word. He seemed so honest, so trusting. It would be so easy to just…

She blinked. “I want my family to find peace,” she said stiffly, “and I’ll do anything to let them achieve that.”

There was a second of silence, and it felt like a tangible weight on her shoulders. She couldn’t help but let her eyes latch onto the gold plates which adorned the side tables, the silk curtains that waved in the non-existent breeze. There was enough wealth in here to satisfy her entire village ten times over. The thought made her hungry.

“Well,” he began with a nonchalant shrug, “I can do that. Come here.”

The command was easy from his lips. He was used to this game.

He was not used to the way she played it.

Making her way up the steps, she kept her eyes straight, avoiding the gold, the silver, the jewels. She had spent her entire life hungry- this was nothing at all. He watched her every step of the way, but his hand still moved to the oil lamp which sat beside him. It was the most beautiful thing in the room by far.

Maya remembered when one of her neighbours had first found the thing; back nearly ten years now, when there had been no palace on the mountain, no gravestones which spoke of life taken too soon. They’d dug it from the sand after a storm, rusty and old and made of simple brass. The farmer responsible never sold it though; instead finding his fortune miraculously elsewhere. That was, until he’d taken his own life a few years after, alone and lost in a mansion filled with everything he wanted and nothing he loved.

Over the years, the pattern of destruction had repeated itself, telling its story on the bodies of her neighbours, her friends, her family.

The oil lamp looked as if it was made of solid gold now, its value accrued from the lives it had taken. Each victim had thought it would be different from the last- that they could withstand the consequences that came upon giving up your soul in exchange for a wish. She watched the light ripple over its surface and thought of her brother. He’d come here two years ago, wanting to cure his wife of her illness. Now his soul made up a part of this place. And his wife was buried beside him despite it all; cured of her sickness, yes, but then taken by the grief that followed her husband’s demise. You could never halt destiny in its tracks. The man on the mountain only ever diverted it, and he did so for a profit too huge for anyone to pay.

Her hunger growled, shifted. It turned to something else. Something angrier.

She walked slowly and with purpose up the grand marble steps, stopping only once she’d gotten within touching distance of the man and the lamp. He looked even more beautiful up close; a face lacking imperfections or scars or humanity, and when he smiled at her again, she almost forgot why she was there.

“It’s the easiest thing in the world,” he explained soothingly, fingers stroking along the metal, “you just put your hand on this lamp, and you tell it what you want.”

“Anything?” She asked him softly, wishing that she could confidently say she was only playing along when she asked the question.

He nodded. “Anything.”

Her mind repeated the word. Played with it. Clutched it tight and squeezed every possible meaning from it.

She could ask for her family to never have to struggle again, to instead have riches beyond all comparison.

She could ask to be prettier, wiser, stronger.

She could ask for Alexi back. For his voice to yell through the house once more, fight with her over the chores. She could ask for the man she’d known before he’d come up here and sold his soul to whatever spirit was in front of her now.

For a second, she faltered, and every little voice in her head that had called out to her from the moment she’d stepped through the doors now spoke in deafening unison. She was hungry and tired. Her clothes were too small, her life too sad. She wanted everything that she didn’t have, and the opportunity to grab it was right in front of her.

Take it. Take it. Take it.

Surely she was strong enough to resist whatever curse the genie had placed upon the bottle. She could be different. She had never wanted to take her own life, not like all the others. And there were so many things she could do. Opportunity was limitless and the entire world, in that single second, was hers for the taking. Life, death, whatever lay between. All of it.

Her hand lifted as if in slow motion. It settled on the shimmering surface, and although she was not looking, it was impossible not to notice the way the genie’s smile widened beyond all human proportions. It should have terrified her, but in that moment she was simply too caught up in it all. The genie, the palace, the reservoir of fury that had been filling in her stomach since she’d buried her brother- it all fell away in her peripheral, leaving behind only a stifling and all-consuming desire.

One sentence… one sentence for a better life. That’s all it would take.

She glanced briefly at her reflection in the surface of the metal. Her mother had always said she’d had Alexi’s eyes, but she’d never seen it until that very moment when she looked down. Just for a second, they flashed at her for the first time in years, almond brown and soft. Forgiving.

Just like that, the greed vanished. The spell broke.

She tore her eyes away from the lamp and looked the man who was no longer a man dead in the eyes. “I want nothing,” she declared, and her voice did not waver. It was resolute. “I wish to be nothing more than the person I already am.”

In immediate response to her words, it seemed as if the entire world froze in place. The very air stood still, until a cold wind began to ripple through what had initially been warm palace halls. The man’s smile stuttered, stretched too thin, and then fell entirely, as if unsure of what other expressions there were left to make. Maybe it wasn’t very used to pretending to be human.

“What did you say?” It hissed.

“I wish to be kind,” her voice pushed through the layers of fear that told her to stop, “and selfless, and put others before myself. I want to end the terror you’ve been subjecting my town to for so many years. I know what you do to all the people who come to you- the most desperate and poor, who will do anything to fix things for themselves. I know that you steal their wishes and use their souls to fuel your greed, and I’m stopping it.”

The genie grabbed her wrist and snarled. “You can’t do that,” he said, “pick something else.”

“No.”

“Pick something else!” The thing’s voice rose, and as it did, the beautiful face that had initially pulled her in became distorted. The mouth sagged, cheeks hollowed. “You could be rich, famous, cleverer than anyone else! You stupid stupid human!”

She said nothing and pulled away, but the genie would not let go of her wrist, and with a sinking sensation she realised that she had come up the mountain expecting the Genie to be helpless as soon as she broke the cycle. Yet here it still was, standing above her, her wrist still held aloft by its powerful grip.

“You think you can play with my magic? My power?” It asked her with mock-softness, while its fingers curled ever-tighter into her skin. “No need for the curse- I’ll kill you myself.”

She knew that she had to move, and fast. With as much power as she had left, she lurched backward as the genie’s other hand began to rise, and just about succeeded in dislodging herself from its grip. The problem came when her foot landed on empty air, and with a gasp she lost her balance, body falling down and down for a moment before she landed on the unforgiving marble stairs with a painful thud of skin against rock. The world spun at a terrifying pace as she rolled to the bottom, hands covering her delicate skull to try and keep herself conscious.

They were playing another game, now. A game of who could outlive who.

She thumped to a stop once the staircase ended, and with a terrified gasp she pulled her head up from the cold floor to see the genie descend the staircase, its soulless eyes fixed on her. With every second its face was contorting, no longer even attempting to mask itself with human features. Sharp teeth burst from its gums, claws pushed through the nail-beds of its fingers with little spurts of blood. With a groan of pain, she brought herself back to her feet, trying to keep her balance as she backed away. But with every weak step she took, the genie pursued with its large, predatory strides. It was near the bottom of the stairs now, fangs dripping with saliva, eyes hollow and filled with fury. She had taken everything from it. Now it was coming for her head.

Too weak to put up a fight, she could only watch as it got closer and closer to her, snarling and spitting like a rabid animal. However, with every footfall marking its approach, she saw its leg falter a little more each time, a shake which began at the knee and worked its way up the Genie's thigh. It’s breathing was ragged, and the closer it got, the more she could see the way its skin was sagging painfully, like the life-force was simply draining out of it. She could tell it noticed too, because it began to howl and speed up its lumber, a clawed hand raised at her for the striking blow. She watched the arm descend, waiting for the right moment, and then forced herself to move just out of its way, but, unluckily, not enough to escape its clutches entirely. Her body just missed clearance and instead she collided with her attacker, tumbling straight into its chest without meaning to- a fatal mistake. Instantly, its other hand moved to grip her by the neck.

Game over. She had no more fight left, and it had her right where it wanted her.

But, despite that, the genie did not move. Instead, she listened to its breath as it wheezed and then stuttered to a halt, chest heaving in an attempt to access oxygen that would no longer come. The hand remained around her neck, a barely-there hold that achieved nothing but told her everything. She may have run out of steam, but the monster in front of her had just run out of life-force.

Grunting under the strain, she smacked its hand away from her throat and shoved it backward. When she looked upon its face once more, she saw that its eyes were drained of all colour, its hair turned from dark and silken to grey and limp. It was dying right before her eyes, and the thought brought a smile to her lips. Perhaps against her better judgement, she extended a hand and grabbed a tuft of its brittle hair, tilting its head up so it was looking right at her. “Look at you. You can’t feed off a wish that isn’t rooted in personal greed, and that’s been how you’ve kept yourself alive for all these years, isn’t it?” She asked.

The thing could only hiss weakly, struggling under her hold and writhing in pain. She could see its bones begin to show through the sallow skin.

Maybe she should’ve shown it mercy in its final moments. Better people may have let it die in peace.

Maya spat on it instead. “Well now I’m going to watch as you starve.”

The genie howled- a deafening, shrill sound which reverberated through the entire area. Around her, the magical façade of the palace crumbled entirely, slipping away like liquid into the night. The rugs turned back to dirt, the walls to hardened rock. A harsh mountain wind forced her hair back, and the Gods themselves seemed, for a moment, to cheer her on. In her grip, the thing continued to wither, unable to stop itself from feeding off her wishes- poisoning itself with the only thing it had ever been able to eat.

“You’ll never get him back,” it whispered in a hoarse voice, one final attempt before it buckled and fell to the floor, “Alexi will be gone forever. Please. I’ll help you.”

But she only smiled. There was a sense of peace washing over her, even as it said her brother’s name. “If you think he’s gone," she said, "then you know nothing about humanity.”

The genie’s mouth opened, but no responding words came out. Time had run out. With one last agonised howl and a terrifying shake of the Earth, the genie’s eyes rolled, and it wheezed with exertion as every soul it had ever taken, every penny it had filched and face it had worn was ripped forcibly from its corpse. Maya felt them as they passed through her. She heard them whisper in her ears as they left the world at last, freed unwittingly by the very genie that had captured them. The ultimate act of selflessness, in this case, was self-destruction.

Finally, things ground to a standstill. The wind which had been raging became a breeze again, and the lamp tumbled to the ground, rolling twice before going still. Brass, once more.

She exhaled quietly and then glanced around her. There was no more palace, no man towering above everyone else. Nothing. It had never been there. Just the lamp, and the product of a thousand broken wishes, and a mountain scarred by death. But the cycle was broken now- there was no genie left to beg, and more importantly, no more souls for it to feed on. The lost could rest in their graves. The living could move on.

A cold wind blew over the cliff’s edge like a gentle nudge. Dawn would break soon. Her hands clasped the lamp, and as she lifted it close to her chest for a moment, a million thoughts raced through her mind. But none of them found anchor. She was not one to wish for what she knew she could never truly have. But now, at the very least, she could save anyone else from falling victim to the urge.

She pulled her arm back and then tossed the lamp as far it would go, watching it bounce off a jagged edge and then topple down the cliff face. “You’re done here,” she murmured. “No more.”

Every muscle and bone in her body was throbbing with a dull ache, but as she shut her eyes, she felt a warmth pass over her, similar to what she had felt when the souls had escaped from the genie’s clutches. Like someone was there with her, in some way or another. And a moment later, as if responding to her thoughts, the warmth seemed to settle upon her and the pain, curiously, lifted.

Her mouth curled upward. “Hello, Alexi.”

There wasn’t a response, of course. But whether she was right or she was wrong, she still sat on the edge of the cliff anyway, her body angled toward the East. When she got back home, she could tell the village what had happened. That their loved ones were finally at peace.

For now, though, she was going to sit and watch the sun rise with her brother. It had been a long day, and she had a long story to tell.