You've developed this quite a bit farther than what I saw at pico. I like the way we gradually become aware of the sentience of the castle: The mantelpiece groaned when I moved. The floor echoed with each of my steps. , and the way James identifies with it, from the stone in his pocket, to his fear of having too heavy a touch. I also like Q's identification with the water and the mist, the way the lake heats up much too quickly and forces them out. A warning?

Where its dungeons were carved from the rock, streaks of iron stain the cliffs. Nothing grows where the blocks for its walls were hewn from the plateau. Salt shines in the sharp cracks.


You use language so precisely in your descriptions, I can always see the images clearly. It's one of the pleasures of reading your stories! Have you had a chance to continue this one--I know you're working on another Sherlock story for August.