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OAKLYN
Fortunately for me, my dryad sense of direction—especially in the woods—is perfect. I can’t get lost, because the trees tell me where to go. It’s a good thing, because one, I have no way of tracking the convoluted path Bradoc took when he snatched me, and two, the chalk marks I made on the trees washed away in the storm.
So even though it takes a while, I eventually make it back to the clearing where I had originally set up camp.
My tent has long since blown away, but miracle of miracles, my pack is hanging on a tree, where it got snagged on a branch after the wind grabbed it.
I pull it down and check it; to my relief, my keys and wallet are still there. Feeling a fresh burst of energy, I hurry back down toward Haven’s Hollow, dodging loose boulders and fallen limbs. The mountain is a mess, yes, but not as impenetrable as I had feared.
After several hours, I finally make it to the parking lot at the base of the mountain, where my Jeep waits. I climb in and dig my phone out of the glove compartment, plugging it in.
The drive home won’t take more than ten minutes, but I need to get it charging as soon as possible. It lights up when I connect it, informing me that it’s 3:26 on Wednesday afternoon. That seems impossible. It was only Saturday when I went hiking in the first place. How has it only been five days?
In the confines of my car, I can smell myself, and it’s clear, despite the swim in the mountain pond and Bradoc’s attentive bathing, that I need a real, honest-to-goodness shower. One with lots of soap.
As bad as I smell, I must look even worse. My clothes are basically unsalvageable, my hair has been wrecked by all the rain, and I’m covered in little cuts and scrapes from our trek in the storm.
As I drive, I try to figure out what I’m going to tell Adria. The whole story is long and convoluted, and I have no idea if she’d even believe me. Luckily, she’s out when I get home, which is kind of a relief. She’s wonderful, but I do not have the headspace to try to explain everything that has happened over the last few days, including the fact that I’m apparently married now.
Instead, I go straight to my bathroom, strip off my horrible, grimy clothes, and take the longest, hottest shower I can muster. I scrub myself from head to toe, finding new appreciation for the honeysuckle scent of my shampoo and the fruity lather of my body wash.
When I’m finally clean, I put on fresh clothes and sit on my bed to think. If I’m really going to help Bradoc, then I need to make some stops in town.
But is that what I want to do? I’m home now, free of my bizarre troll marriage. The odds of him coming down here, to human habitation, to find me are slim. And besides, he has his hands full with locating his missing tribe members. He won’t even have time to miss me.
Honestly, if I don’t go back, our lives will just resume as they were. I’ll keep working at Queen of Tarts, he’ll help put his village back together, and everything will be normal. No harm, no foul. I can chalk it up to one wild week that will live in my memory forever.
So why do I absolutely hate that idea?
I can’t just leave Bradoc and not even say goodbye. No matter how things started between us, they’re different now.I’mdifferent now. I would need closure if I ended things between us. And besides, relationship aside, I gave him my word I would help.
But it’s more than that. However it happened, I’ve developed deep, complex feelings for the big troll. Already, I miss him. It’s actually kind of weird.
We’ve only been apart a few hours, but I’ve gotten used to his comforting presence. The idea of never seeing him again is upsetting. And the fact that he agreed to at least try to compromise in our relationship gives me hope.
The fact is, I’ve never felt about anyone the way I do about him. No matter how it happened, no matter how different we are, I have to face the truth. I care about him. I want him in my life and in my bed. I want to see if a human and a troll can actually make a marriage work. And if that’s what I really, truly want, then there are some things I need to do. Right now.
I’m not expected at work until Monday, but I’m not sure how long it will take to solve this whole thing. I grab my phone and text Libra, telling her that I have an emergency and will be gone for a few more days.
She responds almost immediately, telling me that it’s fine. We have a few floater employees who come in when we’re short, and she’s happy to deploy them.
Decision made, I put on some fresh boots and head downtown. I have shopping to do.
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OAKLYN
I walk down a block of main street—oh, so creatively named Main Street—and take in the shops. On the left: Moonstones and Magic, the jewelry store; Queen of Tarts; the Novel Nook; Silver Serpent Metaphysical Treasures; and Haven’s Pantry on the corner.
To my right: The Apothecary, our local pharmacy and herb shop; Outdoor Outfitters; Fur and Purr Veterinary Clinic, McCray’s Realty; Wallow and Wine. A collection of interesting, unusual businesses that make up our quaint downtown and help fuel our tourist trade. I love working here, love knowing all the business owners. I don’t want to give it up.
But I won’t give up Bradoc, either.
Nodding to myself, I pop into Outdoor Outfitters to pick up some supplies. Maps of the mountain, a GPS, some night-vision goggles.
The trolls know the woods up there better than anyone, but I think making an organized search grid and marking it on the map is the smartest way to handle the search. And even though we all have excellent night vision, the infrared function on the goggles will make tracking down living beings a little easier.
