Chapter Nine Phone A Friend
I burst into the moonlit clearing, lantern in hand.
I had redressed in my maroon dress and the plain brown jacket Draw had given me.
It was cold after the humid warmth of Draw’s tent and definitely chillier than anything I’d yet experienced in Landsome.
My hair was damp at the back of my neck, and I wished for a scarf.
The inky woods were worth braving though. I needed to talk to my Fairy Bookmother and a tent surrounded by people who thought I was magic wouldn’t have done for the type of conversation I needed to have.
“Sorrel,” I called to the forest. I lifted my lantern as if I’d spot her approaching on foot between two trees.
“Lovely evening, isn’t it, Dottie dear?”
I spun.
Sorrel.
Surrounded by the dark of night, I had been scared she wouldn’t come.
Scared I had displeased her in some way.
After working so hard to change the plot of the book and still unable to wash away my biggest problem, I was acutely aware how powerless I was.
And if Sorrel decided not to show up or was otherwise delayed, I was no different than a serving girl in Landsome.
But she came.
“I’ll admit, I expected the second summoning to come much sooner, but you’ve done well for yourself, Dottie.
” Sorrel’s upper half was floating in midair, fuzzy around the edges like a ghost. Her straw-colored hair cascaded in romantic ringlets over one shoulder, the kind a real person armed with a generic curling iron could never achieve.
Her gown matched her hair in color but was structured in contrast to her loose curls.
An amethyst was fastened at the midpoint of her deep neckline.
Her hands were up in front of her as she ticked off my successes.
“You’ve infiltrated the royal entourage, secured Lady Issa more POV chapters, introduced a charming young character in need of magical training, and, most important, sliced out the torrent of gruesome battle scenes that persnickety ghostwriter saddled us fans with. I can’t wait—”
She was buttering me up, but I wasn’t having it.
“You,” I barked, “called Sara.”
Sorrel stopped midsentence and the apples of her cheeks fell. I’d never seen her at a loss for words.
“That phone call was one of the most humiliating moments of my life. I can’t believe you would do that to me.
You’re supposed to be my friend.” Even if I did well in Landsome, I was still returning to a lost job and a ruined reputation.
Sara wasn’t exactly a good friend, but she was the only one I had in Mayfair.
Everything I had struggled to build in the competitive corporate industry had been stripped with one phone call.
Something in Sorrel’s eyes darkened. “Friend?” The corners of her lips tipped dangerously. “I’m not your friend, Dottie. I’m your Fairy Bookmother.”
Her radiant orb disappeared, plunging us into darkness, my little lantern nothing compared to her glow of power.
Did she seriously leave me? She’s not going to help?
I had miscalculated. She wanted a humble servant, and I wasted my time bickering instead of asking for help saving Lord Draw. I was furious with myself. It was literally rule one of surviving a fantasy book, don’t insult magical beings—
Then Sorrel was next to me, full-bodied this time.
She was petite, and quite a bit shorter than me.
Her hair was still down but pulled back by a periwinkle ribbon.
The shoulders of the exquisite dress were covered by a cream capelet and her lipstick was a subdued peach to match the elegance of her look.
She was timeless. I wondered again what power sustained her and how much a fool I had to be to try to scold her.
“Dottie,” she said. She sounded sad. Patient. The darkness on her face was gone. “You’re a reader. You know the importance of a catalyst moment.”
Sorrel enveloped me in a hug, and the chill of night disappeared. It was more than warm arms, the very air around us shimmered with some effect.
Despite my wave of emotion, I sank into her, relieved to be forgiven. She smelled of chamomile, herbal and sweet.
Sorrel’s voice was gentle as she continued, “And yes, I know all too well they usually hurt.”
“This was supposed to be a story,” my voice broke, “but it’s not. It’s real.”
I wasn’t mad about the call; I was mad about the blurring of lines. What was real, what wasn’t. What I could do, how my actions would reverberate. It felt like too much for someone like me.
Sorrel drew back, her eyes glassy under her thick lashes. She nodded. “That’s the thing about adventures—there’s got to be stakes.”
She released me completely and waved her arms. Two plush chairs appeared among the trees, a little table and steaming teapot between them. I blinked, trying to dispel the surreal. At Sorrel’s urging, I hung my lantern on an iron rod, put my satchel aside, and sat.
She poured the steaming tea. A stronger wash of chamomile filled the air.
Neither of us reached for our cups.
It seemed to be on me to say why I’d summoned her. “It’s hard, much harder than I thought.”
“Because of Lord Draw?” she prompted.
“I don’t want anyone to die in the final battle but, yeah, especially him.”
“How lovely it is to fall in love.” Sorrel smiled as if she wasn’t personally responsible for my misery. “We spend much of our lives seeking such a gift and here you are, Dottie, a lucky recipient at last.”
I took a breath. She was right, of course. Sorrel had a track record of being just that. The problem was that when I finally got what I dreamed of, it only introduced a new realm of uncertainty and potential loss.
I tried to organize my head. I had so many questions for Sorrel. My mind flitted back to the paper I’d scribbled notes on, the practical questions about magic Draw had put forth during our many hours on horseback. My worries about tomorrow and the next day and the one after that.
They all came back to one.
“Why did you pick me, Sorrel?”
Sorrel took a thoughtful sip, surely her tea was too hot to manage, as mine was.
“It’s true, other people love Landsome Roads as much as you do, but I chose you because you were sad, Dottie.
I watched you close yourself away. Spend most of your time at a job you didn’t enjoy.
Avoided your friends in favor of reading a few more chapters—yes, Dottie, Sara, Gemma, and Ahmad genuinely like you.
You’d built such a quiet life, but instead of reveling in the peace you had, your heart broke a little more each day.
The hero’s journey isn’t for everyone. It’s for the character who needs it. ”
Though I was blanketed by the warmth Sorrel had cast upon us, chills ran up my arms. I wasn’t a character. I knew that at least. I couldn’t be. That was just how Sorrel spoke.
She smiled languidly, as if she knew what havoc her words were having on my mind. She set her cup down.
“So, let’s talk about the plot,” she said. “Season five is in production so the universe is a bit unstable.”
“I noticed.” I thought of the Badgerden and Lionsgate switch.
And Westly’s squad. “The writers for the show put Meg’s fiancé and his group in danger.
” I understood what it would seem like to an audience—a minor but sad side story, just enough to make you want to keep watching—but that small change had taken at least one man’s life.
“TV producers can be just as vicious as a ghostwriter,” Sorrel mused. “What is a character’s life if their death will increase ratings? You’ve done well despite the challenges. My favorite change is that readers will get to see more of Lord Draw.”
“He’ll be happy to know that.” I finally took a sip of my tea. A lovely flavor bloomed in my mouth. Okay, real tea did not taste this good.
Sorrel’s eyes drifted to the dark forest as she thought.
“Before sending you, I believed I had thought of everything—I wanted to foresee any potential issues with your journey—but it never crossed my mind that you’d tell someone the truth!
Yet you did, securing your greatest ally and allowing real romance to flower, not just a few idle nights with a handsome man.
” Sorrel smiled widely. “I knew you’d surprise me, Dottie. ”
“But what do I do next?” I interjected.
“You know what to do next, silly! Fight the bad guy, save the man!”
“Yeah, but how?”
Sorrel frowned and adjusted her capelet. “I have faith you’ll figure it out.”
A whine came to my voice. “If I fail, he dies. I need your help. I need to see clearly, consider all the options.”
“Break it down for me.”
“Ironclaw wants his sister back. He’s been different lately, surly—”
“Oh, he’s always been like that. Whitehorse just didn’t give it color.”
“He’s going to kidnap Draw and trade him to the Dark Mage for Bianca even though she’s obviously gone over to that side. He’s going to get Draw killed.”
Sorrel let out a tiny sigh. “This is easier than you think. One, get Draw back. Two, reconcile Bianca and Ironclaw. Three, deal with the state of Ironclaw and the queen.”
“Yeah, but—”
“The job I put in front of you was to fix the plot, whatever that means to you. You know this story, these characters. The hard part is over: that brain of yours knows what needs to be done. The rest is simple: just do it.”
Though I resisted it, I could see what she was saying. I did know what needed to be done. What I really wanted was assurance. It seemed that it was not forthcoming.
“I just have to do it...” The words sounded hollow on my lips.
“Have the faith that you can do it,” Sorrel said sternly. “Then follow through.”
She drank her tea as if she had all the time in the world while I pondered her simple suggestion though, for all I knew, maybe she really did have all the time in the world.
Landsome Roads was a big enough puzzle for me to focus on.
Fairy Bookmothers roaming fictional worlds, stirring up trouble, I didn’t exactly know what that said about the universe.
“What about when I go home?”
“Everything will be exactly as you left it.”
“Can Draw...” I was overheated now. The steaming tea had made me flush, and I understood the magnitude of what I was about to ask. “Can he come back with me?”
She smiled, but her eyes crinkled as she shook her head.
“Can I stay here, if I choose?” I added the last part hastily.
Another negative.
I thought that might be the case. Nevertheless, it didn’t alleviate the punch my heart felt. My time with Draw was truly limited.
“Are you still glad you came?” Sorrel sounded uncertain, unlike herself.
My response was immediate, afraid it could all be taken away.
“Of course. And not just for Draw, though he’s so.
.. I’ve never... I didn’t know there could be men out there that really felt like this.
He actually wants to hear what I think. Knows half the time before I do.
He wants me to have everything, and he’s so handsome when he gets jealous—”
“You were saying it’s everything you’ve ever dreamed of, coming to Landsome,” Sorrel added, keeping me on track.
I folded my hands in my lap. “It’s the adventure of a lifetime. Thank you, Fairy Bookmother.”
Sorrel looked plum satisfied at my words. She rose, and I understood the summoning was coming to a close.
“You can do it, Dottie. I never choose wrong.”
The chairs and teapot were suddenly gone. All that was left was the two of us and the iron rod holding my lantern. I lifted it, the metal heavy in my hand. I turned to leave, but Sorrel called me back.
“Oh, Dottie, one more thing. I find it’s better to attempt difficult things in style.”
Sorrel raised her hands slowly. I felt my dress shift, transform.
The low back rising, the neckline squaring.
The fabric was thicker on top, sturdier, turning a deep burgundy.
The full skirt narrowed around my legs and became tightly fitted black pants.
My brown jacket became a full-length cape fastened at my neck and across my chest bloomed the shoulder paneling from the splint mail Amelia made me.
I looked down to find a belt with two leather pouches.
I felt stronger. Ready to take on the Dark Mage.
She handed me my satchel.
“Thank you, Sorrel.”
“Go in magic, Lady Dottie.”
I turned and disappeared into the darkness.