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“Why?”
What if I don’t measure up to all the amazing fae? What if I feel outcast? When we visited Cael before, I had no idea what to expect. Also, we were visiting him with the hope I could keep one foot in both worlds. Now, I’m entering Faerie with the thought in the back of my mind that says if I don’t fit in, I don’t have as many options if I ever want to build a family while keeping the one I have.
The stakes are higher. Just like in the kinds of stories Alana likes.
I don’t know what I’ll do if I mess this up.
“I’m sorry. I’m feeling a lot right now.”
“Feelings are a lot.”
“I fear I acted on impulse earlier when I asked to go on a date in Faerie. Now, I’m plagued with marvelous inadequacy, and the weight of success or failure is crushing the air from my lungs. It occurs to me, in brilliant neon, just how few positive experiences I’ve had that involve other people. Most often, even the good moments turn into something else by the time I’m back home and able to face the quiet of my brain.”
Ollie combs his fingers through his hair. “Oh, beautiful. Allow me to introduce to you the joys of Cael’s eclipse.” Turning on his heel, he guides me farther into the woods. “You won’t have to talk to a single person if you don’t want to.”
“Sounds fake.”
He points at himself. “Can’t lie. Some fae don’t speak. Others speak a ton. Some can’t handle loud noises. Some need them to feel like they’re breathing correctly. Each person’s needs fluctuate daily, from hour to hour. Cael understands that just like he understands some of his people have wings, antlers, or tails that they can’t tuck away. He has built accommodation in for all sorts of beings and all sorts of personalities. It’s part of what makes his community so different. Instead of building a kingdom around similar faeries, he’s built his around similar characters. It’s a world with a foundation of ideals, not merits.”
On some level, I understand that Ollie is speaking English, but my brain is responding to what he’s saying like it’s Russian. In Cael’s corner of Faerie…people are…accommodated?
Nope. That’s crazy.
Definitely sounds fake now.
I spend the entire rest of the trek up to a fallen log in denial. It’s insanity. It’s not possible. How would any place function if everyone is accommodated to an extent that not speaking is an option? Ludicrous. Nope. It’s the most fantasy thing I’ve heard since my chihuahua turned into a human and protected me from assault.
Utterly bonkers.
I think.
As I walk into the hollow part of a log.
Which is suddenly an intake station.
Nestled among moss and roots and mushrooms the size of my car, I find vacant lanes ending in mushroom cap booths.
“Ollie!” a short woman with silver hair and purple tipped fingers calls. Wings all aflutter, she waves wildly from one of the mushroom cap booths at the end of the daisy chain queue in front of us.
Ollie sighs, smiling as he leads me up the empty lane. “Hi, Lesta. What were they thinking letting you come out here during a slow period?”
Lesta plants her hands on her hips. Extra knuckles on full display, she huffs. “I was playing a dangerous game called Grab the First Job You See. I’ll know better for next time. If I remember.” She tilts her body and fixes me with a giant grin. “Is this your mate?”
“Yep. And it’s her first time out here, so we’re going with minimal interaction.”
Lesta’s purple eyes go huge before she slaps a hand to her mouth and whispers, “My apologies. I forgot. Since I’m the only one here, I’m supposed to wait before I launch into conversation, but I know you, and it has been nearly an entire ten minutes of sitting here all by myself.”
“All’s well, Lesta.”
The woman blows out a breath. “I appreciate your understanding. Do you need one or two of these?” Lesta lifts a small blue crystal at the end of a silver chain.
“Two.”
After Lesta hands two chains over, Ollie releases my hand, passes me one, then tugs the collar of his shirt up and latches his around his neck. I remain stationary, like a clueless lost child.
Lesta slides a note toward him while I’m busy quietly panicking, and I catch the words: I have cotton and silk if the chain isn’t working for you.
“This is fine,” Ollie says before looking at me. “This indicates to everyone that we aren’t interested in communication right now.”
