Chapter 21
21
ARYA
A strange shift had occurred over the past few days between Angie and me. What started as tense exchanges had gradually morphed into an odd sense of familiarity. After my failed attempt to return to Elaria by visiting the film studio, we spent hours—no, days—arguing, debating, and ultimately deciding that retracing my steps was the only logical course of action. If I had fallen into this world through the lake, then it stood to reason that the lake was my way back.
At first Angie was hesitant, repeatedly reminding me that jumping into a body of water without a clear plan was, as she so eloquently put it, 'a terrible, life-threatening idea.' I dismissed her concerns, of course. What was life without a little risk? But as we stood at the edge of the lake and cold air whipped through my damp clothes, the burden of uncertainty settled over me.
I stood at the edge of the lake with my arms crossed, watching the dark water with narrowed eyes. Its surface was eerily still, untouched by the chaos of the world around it. The once-busy film set had long since been abandoned, leaving only remnants of forgotten productions—a broken dock, rusting scaffolding, and a few discarded props scattered along the shore. The quiet was unsettling, a polarizing contrast to the relentless noise of the city I had been forced to endure.
“This is a terrible idea,” Angie muttered beside me as she assessed the lake with blatant skepticism.
“This is the only idea,” I corrected, tilting my chin up. “Unless you have an alternative? Perhaps some hidden magical knowledge you have neglected to share?”
Angie sighed and rubbed her temples. “I just don't think nearly drowning is the best way to figure this out.”
“Nearly drowning is a risk I’m willing to take!” I shot back.
She stared at me with her lips pressed into a thin line. “You are the most stubborn person I have ever met.”
I smirked. “A noblewoman must be decisive.”
Angie rolled her eyes but said nothing more. I turned back to the water. If I was going to return to Elaria, it had to be here. This was the last place I had seen my world—the last place I had seen Cat. I had no choice but to try.
Without another word, I took a breath and leapt.
The water was ice-cold, wrapping around me like an iron grip as I plunged beneath the surface. My heart pounded in my ears and my lungs tightened as the initial shock wore off. I forced my limbs to move, propelling myself downward through the murky depths that seemed to stretch endlessly. Pressure built and squeezed my chest as I frantically searched for any sign of a portal. But there was nothing—no shimmer, no pull, no indication that the barrier between worlds still existed. My chest burned as I reached out, but my fingers grasped nothing but water.
No. No, this has to work!
Desperation clawed at my throat as I turned and tried again, reaching, waiting for something to happen. But still, there was nothing.
My lungs screamed for air.
I kicked toward the surface, but the water seemed heavier now, my limbs sluggish as exhaustion crept in. I pushed harder as panic rose in my chest. I needed to breathe—I needed—
Something grabbed me.
Warm hands, firm but urgent, latched onto my shoulders and pulled me up toward the surface. My vision blurred and dark spots crept along the edges as my chest spasmed. Just as blackness threatened to overtake me, something pressed against my lips and a rush of air was forced into my lungs.
It took me a moment to process what was happening. Angie… She found me, and now she was— breathing for me?
The momentary relief was enough to keep me from slipping under completely. Her lips were warm despite the water’s chill, and as she exhaled again, my lungs desperately expanded, hungrily drawing in the borrowed oxygen. My instincts overrode my pride, and I took what I needed to survive.
Angie’s grip tightened and she kicked upward, dragging me with her. My body was weak, sluggish, but she moved with determination, forcing us toward the surface.
The instant we broke through I gasped and sucked in a painful lungful of freezing air. It burned my throat, but it was nothing compared to the fire in my limbs. Angie kept an arm wrapped firmly around me as she guided us toward the shore. The instant we reached land, I collapsed onto the damp grass with aching limbs, fully spent. Angie knelt beside me, catching her breath before shaking her head in disbelief.
“You were supposed to go back, not nearly die trying!”
I wiped water from my eyes and scowled. “You exaggerate. I was in control.”
Angie barked a laugh. “Oh, yeah? You were ‘in control’ of drowning?”
I opened my mouth, ready to argue, but the words did not come. Instead, I frowned and turned back to the lake as the weight of failure settled over me. “It didn't work,” I muttered.
Angie’s expression softened. “Maybe the portal’s… not there anymore. Maybe it closed.”
The thought sent an uncomfortable pang through me. If the portal was gone, if there was no way back…
“If that’s true, then it will be next to impossible to return to Elaria,” I whispered.
Angie was quiet for a long moment before she spoke. “Look, I know this sucks. But if Cat is really in your world, she's not just going to sit around and do nothing. She's strong, Arya. She'll find a way back.” She met my gaze, her blue eyes steady. “And when she does, she'll help you get back home.”
What was so great about this Cat person? I scoffed and started to roll my eyes but stopped. I swallowed, unsure how to respond. There was something frustratingly reassuring about Angie’s unwavering confidence in her friend.
Angie sat back on her heels. “But in the meantime, you need to figure something out. You need money.”
I scoffed. “I refuse to be a stuntwoman. That job is absurd.”
“I knew you were going to say that.” Angie sighed and scrubbed a hand down her face. “So what can you do?”
I lifted my chin, considering. “I can paint.”
She blinked. “Paint? Like, actual paintings?”
“Yes. It is a skill most noblewomen are expected to have.”
Angie hesitated. “Okay, but… making a living as an artist is hard. Have you ever done makeup?”
I frowned. “No.”
“Well, it’s kind of like painting. Just on people’s faces.”
I narrowed my eyes at her. “And you believe this is a sufficient skill for making money?”
Angie grinned. “Oh, princess, in this world, people pay a lot of money to look good.”
My lips pressed together as I considered this option. The profession was beneath me, undoubtedly. But until I found a way home… perhaps it was worth trying.
“Fine,” I sighed. “I will… attempt to paint faces. But if I find it beneath me, I will do something else.”
Angie smirked. “Fair enough. But don't say I didn’t warn you. Hollywood is full of spoiled nobles who think they run the world. You’ll fit right in.”
I huffed, but for the first time, I didn’t entirely mind her teasing.