Under Different Stars

Chapter Four

Time was distorted by the darkness. He could have been walking for hours, minutes or seconds, it was impossible to tell. At what point he first saw the glow, he couldn't be sure. To begin with he moved towards it subconsciously, like a flower opening its petals towards sunlight. It wasn't until it became larger, brighter, that he really became aware of what he was doing. And it wasn't until he stepped into a clearing, illuminated once more by the dazzling starlight above and glowing with candlelight, that he came to an abrupt halt.

There was a house in the middle of the wood.

A house which Vincent's hunger ridden mind was deceiving him into imagining was made of breads, cakes and pastries. It looked like the sort of thing Earthroar would have put in his shop window, only much, much larger.

The roof tiles were individual iced cinnamon buns, glossy white icing glinting, each with a bright red cherry in the centre. The chimney was constructed from four golden batons, the smell of freshly baked bread drifting from the top. The walls below seemed to be made of layered bricks of cake. Vincent could see chocolate, vanilla, a pistachio green, and a rich red velvet. Caramel buttercream cemented them together and edged windows of spun sugar and a door made from a rectangular, chocolate filled pastry Vincent didn't recognise.

The only parts of the house that didn't look edible were the candles held in sconces on the walls around the house. But even they didn't look ordinary - they were the bright colours of birthday candles, as if the entire structure was a treat left out in celebration.

Vincent's hand brushed the wall before he even realised he'd moved towards the house. He was hallucinating. He had to be. His hunger had conjured food from thin air. He was probably touching a slimy wet stone, covered in moss and frog spit. But it felt like soft, airy vanilla sponge, and the brick next to it had the gooey goodness of chocolate fudge.

How far did the hallucination go? If he brought a few crumbs to his lips, would he taste chocolate and flour and eggs? Or would the illusion be ruined?

For a moment, Vincent stood with his hand against the wall staring at the cake. His stomach growled in frustration. Food - of the most glorious kind - was right there beneath his finger tips. So why wasn't he eating any?

Before he could stop himself, Vincent had grabbed a fistful of soft sponge and shovelled it into his mouth.

He groaned in delight. Wall moss or not, it certainly tasted like real cake. The best he'd ever tasted, even if it felt like a betrayal of Earthroar and Lucy to think it. The brick was sweet and light with an unexpected hint of lemon.

He took a handful of the chocolate brick beside, which was as rich and gooey as it looked. Beside that was a darker, sticky brick which tasted of ginger. If only Jorge was here too. This was heaven.

"Do you plan on eating my entire house, beautiful stranger? Because it's usually polite to ask a lady before tucking in," a sugary voice purred behind him. Vincent spun, his eyes wide, his jaw slack.

On the path leading to the house, he found a beautiful young woman with round hips and rosy cheeks in a flowing silver dress. She was smiling, but there was a glint in her honey brown eyes Vincent wasn't sure was friendly. She held a wicker basket filled with lavender and hellebore in the crook of her arm.

"I'm... I'm so sorry!" He looked at her in horror. "I was just so hungry. I didn't stop to think about whether it belonged to anyone!"

"Because cottages constructed from confectionary are found lying around all over the place where you come from?" She raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow and put a hand to her hip. Despite the flowing delicacy of her dress, Vincent got the impression she was wearing something more sculpted, perhaps even armoured, beneath it.