Word Count: 531

“I know you're here,” she said.

There was no one there to greet her.

Ganymede wandered the halls of the moon palace—not her own, but the silver-faced satellite of Earth. She did not know why except that she could; the moon charm glowed bright where it dangled from her phone. She'd seen it there and her travels had been instinctive. One minute she's been on Earth, her feet planted firmly upon the ground, and the next moment she'd come here, to the quiet of empty halls and an overgrow garden.

She stayed away from those places which she was allowed to visit and strayed instead toward the rooms and halls that were blocked off, throwing debris at the fine silver mist that separated one hall from the next. Her efforts were juvenile at best, but she did not expect them to make a difference. She only wanted attention drawn to her; visiting these places and attempting to break through had worked once before.

“Stop hiding!” she called. “Come out and face me!”

But she received no response but the echo of her own voice reverberating through the empty halls.

Ganymede went to the hallway with the sealed doors, examined the unrecognizable symbols etched into wood and stone, grabbed each handle and struggled to open them. As expected, none of the doors permitted her entrance. They remained stubbornly closed, mocking her the same as the silence and the shadows did.

She wasn't sure what she meant to do had she been successful; she wasn't sure what she meant to say should the Moon Queen show herself again. All she knew was that she craved the confrontation. Even after all this time, Ganymede was looking for someone to blame. A ghost woman who could not defend herself, who barely ever showed her face, was an easier target for Ganymede's distress and rage than anything or anyone living.

Did she hate the Moon Queen? Certainly she hated what the Moon Queen represented to so many. She hated what the Moon Queen had caused, what her daughter had caused—this war which seemed to have no end. She hated that everything had begun here, that these locked and shrouded rooms likely held all the answers, and she was neither strong nor worthy enough to be permitted entrance.

None of them were. Not even after all they'd been through.

Ganymede could sense her there, within the shadows and around each corner, but she could not see her, wasn't even sure she wanted to, despite how desperately she called for her. She didn't know what she meant to say if she ever had the chance. The Moon Queen had not spoken, after all, the last time Ganymede had been in her presence. She'd only smiled, and a smile meant nothing, at least nothing that Ganymede was able to adequately intemperate.

So she wandered the halls and pounded on doors, threw debris at the silver mist like it made any difference, and called out for the one person in the entire universe who had all the answers, but who remained stubbornly silent.

“What do you want from me?” Ganymede asked.

As expected, she received no answer.