Chapter 1Gideon had been about to burst into tears when he realized the doorknob was gold.
The fat man with the gruff voice had just given him his dinner. “Beans,” he’d said as he dropped down the metal dish. A bubble of sauce fell on the floor, which was covered by a thin residue of hay. “Enjoy.”
The door slammed. The man shoved the keys in the lock on the other side, barricading Gideon in once again. Then, all of a sudden, right before his ribcage cracked open with a reign of tears, the metal that was down and grimy, like the way silver got when it touched air after a handful of days, was now a treasure. Gold. A gold doorknob. A golden handle, a golden way out of his prisoner, where he’d been shut up and told to make straw out of gold.
He grasped the handle, but it didn’t come away. It didn’t come clean, either. No matter how much he rubbed it, the blackness remained. Yet so did the gold. It was somehow stained, but pure.
“I don’t understand,” Gideon murmured. He touched and rubbed, and nothing changed. The gold remained. So did the blackness. “How can you be both?”
There was no answer. But until morning, he stared at that knob, and tried to remember how he could channel the energy of light and wholeness in order to spin gold for himself. When he fell asleep, he didn’t dream. But he had the gift of hope for the first time since his ordeal began, once upon a long time ago.