Chapter Six
ABBY
IF THERE’S ANYTHING I’m sure of, it’s that I’m never going to sleep on a wooden floor again. Not if I have any say in the matter.
Every muscle in my back aches, and I stretch out my spine with a wince before shoving open the creaky shed door and stepping outside. The temperature dropped slightly overnight, just like it would back in the human realm, but it wasn’t anything my sweatshirt couldn’t handle.
There’s still a slight chill to the morning air, but I assume it will eventually warm to yesterday’s temperature. In preparation, I shrug off my sweatshirt and shove it into my bag. I’ve got a lot of ground to cover, and I’ll be wishing for this cool air later today.
I might as well enjoy it while I can.
Caffeine withdrawals are already setting in, but it’s not unbearable. I should’ve anticipated this and cut back before coming here, but I’m weak. I love my coffee, and the second I step into my workplace break room and smell the overwhelming scent of brewed beans, I can’t stop myself from pouring a giant mug.
I sit on the steps and shove a handful of nuts from my backpack into my mouth. I should be mindful about how much food I consume, but I need energy for the long day ahead. I could only pack so much food, but I think I did a good job. I have a giant bag of nuts and beef jerky. It’ll have to do, at least until I reach civilization.
Once I do, I’ll see if I can flirt my way into a meal or two. I’m moderately attractive for a human, and I’m hoping that helps me here.
I’ve considered trying to pickpocket, but I have a feeling that won’t blow over well. Lill’s always said faeries have quick reflexes, and I don’t think taking the risk of getting thrown into whatever their version of prison is would be my brightest move.
Magic still swirls around me, but I’m adjusting quickly. My brain’s blocking it out just as it does my nose in my peripheral vision, and I’m hoping I soon won’t notice it at all.
I finish my handful of nuts and step away from the shed, peering around to ensure no faeries are lingering nearby, but the prairie is just as empty as it was yesterday. I suppose I should be relieved Lill’s portal didn’t draw any attention, but it sure would be nice to have somebody to ask for directions right about now.
I have no idea where I am or how to get to the Redstall Forest, and I’m nervous about walking in the wrong direction.
There’s a noticeable path where my footsteps yesterday crushed the long grass, and I stare at the general area where Lill’s portal spit me out before sucking in a shaky breath and turning back to the shed. To say I’m scared would be the understatement of the century, but I can’t let it paralyze me.
I need to get moving.
I should’ve brought my phone.
I didn’t even think about bringing electronics, and I’d bet my left kidney I wouldn’t get any reception here, but at least I could keep myself occupied with the music and games downloaded on it. I’ve got three portable chargers I could’ve shoved into the nooks of my bag, too.
It’s too late to do anything about that now, though.
My palms sweat, and I wipe them on my leggings before taking off.
It takes only three hours for my legs to grow sore. Walking through the tall grass is more of a workout than I’m used to, but I force myself to continue at a strong pace. The land grows wilder for a while, and large trees appear and blot out the warming sun. They never get so dense that I feel unsafe or like I’m in a forested area, and after about forty minutes, the trees thin back out.
The grass grows slightly tamer, too. It’s still wild, but it’s not quite as long. I’m choosing to take that as a good sign.
After another thirty minutes of walking, I spot what looks like a path up ahead. I’m too far away to get a proper look, and there’s a decent chance I’m just imagining it, but I rush forward, anyway.
It quickly becomes apparent that it’s an actual path, the grass trampled and flattened from regular use. I scan the area for any signs of life, but I find nothing, and when I finally reach the path, I don’t hesitate to step onto it.
I pause shortly thereafter, though, and chew at my bottom lip as I glance left to right. Which way should I go? Neither direction looks better, and I teeter back and forth before shrugging and taking off to the left.
I’m really hoping Lill wasn’t lying when she said faeries like humans. It’s been a good twenty years since she was last here, and a lot can change in that time, but hopefully not too much.
I’d hate to be murdered and turned into a stew for some freakishly attractive, violet-eyed family.
My pace quickens now that I’m not stomping through thick grass, which is great timing, considering the sun’s reaching the highest point in the sky. The trees large enough to offer shade are far and few between, and they’re just far enough away from the path that it isn’t worth the extra steps to go to them.
I don’t spot any faeries, either, but I’m undecided if I’m pleased with that.
When the sun has just crested over the highest point in the sky, I decide I can no longer ignore the rumbling in my stomach. I take a short break to eat, pulling a handful of nuts and dried jerky out of my backpack.
I munch as I walk, eating just enough to settle the empty ache.
The path gradually grows more pronounced, and I can barely believe my luck when it suddenly turns toward a proper gravel road. It’s wide, and the gravel is crushed into small pieces and flattened into the ground.
It looks like vehicles drive down it. Do they have vehicles here? Carriages and horses, maybe. I have no idea. Either way, this is precisely what I was hoping for. The gravel crunches under my sneakers, the sound a welcome distraction from my thoughts.
I work on my background story while I walk, perfecting my lies and excuses in case anybody asks. I don’t want to draw unnecessary attention to myself, and I come up with acceptably vague answers for every possible question I think I’d be asked.
Where am I from? I’m from the human realm, but I came here when I was younger and grew up in a small town down south. If they pry into the location, I’ll joke that they’ve probably never heard of it. If they ask what brought me here, I’ll say my dad came here for work. What does my dad do for work? That’s a question I’d like an answer to, too.
I’m hoping elusive and quietly brooding fathers are a thing here as well as on Earth.
My feet ache, and I tilt my face toward the sun with a quiet sigh. This isn’t nearly as fun as I thought it would be. While I assumed this would be an arduous journey, I hoped it would be exciting.
I don’t feel particularly excited or adventurous right now.
I’m hungry and thirsty, and my feet hurt. Plus, my back is still angry with me for last night’s less-than-comfortable wooden planks.
Lill has no idea what I’m going through right now, but she better feel fucking honored. I’ll be sure to tell her all about this when I return with delysum, and I expect her to graciously drop to her knees and kiss my knuckles. I deserve nothing less.
The terrain on either side of the road gradually shifts from prairie to wooded. The large trees I’ve been occasionally crossing grow closer together, continuing until there’s more of them than open land. It makes it hard to see where, exactly, I’m headed, and I feel slightly uneasy, but I continue forward.
I have no other options.
It must be a good hour of walking before I come across the hill of death. It’s a steep, painfully intimidating hill the road I’m traveling on leads up and over, and I glare at it from the moment I spot it until I’m at its broad base. My poor hips.
I groan. This is bullshit.
I tighten the straps on my backpack and get to climbing. The backs of my legs scream, and I comfort myself with the knowledge that this will at least tone up my thighs. This is the faerie version of a StairMaster, and I’m going to return to the human realm with a tight, pert ass.
It’s the longest fifteen minutes of my life, but it pays off when I reach the top and see what looks like a city in the distance. I’m staring directly into the sun, which is less than ideal, but I’m pretty sure I’m looking at the outline of buildings. Tons of them, too. It’s hard to tell how large they are, but they look at least a few stories high.
A small part of me thought I’d die out in the wild.
My heart pounds with the realization that I’m about to enter a city full of faeries, but I shove my fear and trepidation deep down inside and continue forward. I need to keep moving.
The gravel crunches under my feet, and I focus on the sound as I realize there are houses tucked deep into the trees lining the road. I don’t notice them initially, mainly because I wasn’t looking, but I see the occasional flash of a porch or pointed roof.
From what I can see, the houses are beautiful.
Everything is earth-toned—the limestone exteriors painted in light, soft-brown colors. I want a better look, but I hesitate to stray from the gravel road. I’m also hesitant to approach the private home of a faerie I don’t know.
They might not take kindly to my appearance on their property.
There is one house not hidden entirely behind trees, and I admire it as I walk past. It’s a ranch-style home, painted an almost yellow-brown, with a shingled roof, large windows, and a tall, arched front door.
It’s beautiful.
I look for a driveway or vehicle, but I find nothing. There’s a small, worn path leading from the front door to the gravel road, but that’s the only sign of wear. Do faeries walk everywhere? Maybe they prefer traveling through portals.
I sure would if I were them.
The sun dips below the treeline, and I pause to put my sweatshirt back on. The houses are growing closer together, and quickly. I don’t know how faeries dress, but I don’t want to meet them in my dirty T-shirt. I’ll feel more comfortable with my upper body covered.
Plus, the extra fabric helps block out the smell of my sweaty armpits.
I sidestep, narrowly avoiding stepping in a giant pile of shit on the side of the road. It looks like it came from a large animal, definitely a horse, and I grimace as I move around it. I suppose that confirms my question about how the faeries travel.
My heart pounds, and my pulse thunders through my ears as I make my way into the city. The road shifts from gravel to cobblestone, and I quickly find myself walking through a narrow street lined with stone and brick houses on either side of me. They’re beautiful buildings, most half-timbered, with visible wooden beams and red-tiled roofs.
Tall, vined plants snake up several of the buildings, giving a sense of nature despite the labyrinth of alleys the town has become. I feel like I’ve entered a historical, quaint European city. It’s beautiful but creepy. I don’t belong.
I eye a row of large, potted plants lining the front of a wrought-iron balcony above me, the vibrant flowers in full bloom. Along the ground level are cafés and small shops, but no faeries.
Where is everybody?
I peer in every window I pass, but I spot not one soul. It feels like I’m walking through a ghost town, and I’m beginning to think I’ve made a colossal mistake. What if the faeries were alerted that I was coming and hid away? What if they think this is some sort of game and they’re actively hunting me down right now?
I saw that once in a movie.
I hug my arms to my chest, hating how loud my footfalls are.
A door opens ahead, and I stop dead in my tracks as a man steps out of a small storefront. He doesn’t seem to notice me, and I stare with a slack jaw as he turns and locks the door behind him.
He fits the bill of what I imagined faeries other than Lill and her mom would look like.
The man is at least six feet tall, with an athletic frame and stark-white hair. It hangs down his back, and the front pieces are pulled out of his face and braided behind his head. The white color stands out against his all-black, loose, linen outfit, and I grimace and glance down at myself. If they’re all leaning into this natural, loose clothing look, I won’t fit in.
My black leggings are too tight, and my navy-blue hoodie is too bright.
I’m sweating, and I carefully remove my sweatshirt and tuck it into my bag. I’m wearing a black T-shirt underneath, which better blends in.
The man turns away from me and begins walking down the sidewalk. I linger, weighing the pros and cons of approaching him, before hurrying forward. He’s the only faerie I’ve seen, and I don’t know that I’ll get another chance to ask for directions.
My ass is clenched so tightly, it’s going to be sore tomorrow morning.
“Excuse me!” I half-shout.
My voice cracks, naturally, and my shoes slap against the ground as I rush toward the faerie. He stops the moment he hears my voice, and he spins around quicker than my eyes can process. I try my best not to react to it.
I don’t want him to know he’s the first faerie—besides Lill and her mom— that I’ve ever met.
The man’s eyes are startlingly violet, just like Lill’s, and my throat runs dry as I take in his sharp jawline and full lips. Fuck . The faeries are good-looking people.
He cocks his head to the side as I approach, his gaze darting down my frame. They linger on my backpack straps before settling on my hands. I try not to be unnerved by it, and I continue forward until we’re only a few feet apart.
The man smiles, putting me on edge.
“Hello, human.”