" It was a narrow, twisting hallway, paneled and floored in elaborate interlocking patterns of light and dark wood. False windows flanked every corner, their frames elaborately carved and fretted: looking through one, I discovered a flat, painted landscape like nothing I had ever seen-twisted trees and dark, jeering rocks and the gilt sun lying against the painted sky like a counterfeit coin. "

― Sarah Monette , The Mirador (Doctrine of Labyrinths, #3)