Chapter 3: The Talking Fox

The fox was sitting on a fallen log, watching her approach with eyes that held far too much intelligence for an animal. Its fur was the color of autumn leaves, shifting between orange and gold as light played across it. When Lily was three paces away, it spoke. 'You are later than expected,' the fox said, in a voice that sounded like a cello being played by someone who genuinely enjoyed the instrument. 'We sent the door to your grandmother seventeen years ago and she never came through. We were beginning to think the invitation had been lost.' Lily sat down on the grass, which arranged itself into a comfortable cushion beneath her. 'My grandmother knows about the door?' 'She built the door. Well, she built the frame. We provided the magic. Your grandmother visited Luminara once as a young woman and promised to return. When she did not, we assumed the door had malfunctioned.' 'She got busy,' Lily said, which seemed inadequate but was essentially the truth. 'My name is Fenwick,' the fox continued. 'I am what you might call a guide, though the official title is Ambassador of First Impressions. My job is to welcome new arrivals and explain the situation, which I should warn you is not entirely pleasant.' 'What situation?' Fenwick's ears flattened slightly. 'Luminara is fading. The colors you see around you used to be brighter. The trees used to sing rather than hum. The city in the distance used to float above the ground. Our world runs on creative energy, the kind that comes from imagination and wonder, and our source has been diminishing for decades.' 'What was the source?' 'Visitors. People from your world who crossed through doors like yours and brought their capacity for wonder with them. Your grandmother was the last. When she stopped coming, the decline began.' Lily looked at the shifting colors of the forest. 'So you need me to wonder at things?' Fenwick tilted his head. 'We need you to believe they are worth wondering at.'