CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Iwish I could say the morning was eventful, but it was dreadfully boring. Which I guess is probably a good thing. We inhaled the breakfast Helena had brought up to our rooms when we woke and then it was incredibly easy to slip from the town unnoticed by the guards. The walk to the portal was equally uneventful. The landscape was a dreary monotonous grey with scraggly trees. What I’m coming to find is the norm for Unseelie lands.
It’s horribly depressing and I couldn’t imagine being Bastian and having grown up in a place like this. Even with the additional bonus of magic. The human realm, while not perfect by any stretch, at least has some color and vibrancy to it that lends to a cheery upbringing. Like that crisp, almost smoky breeze that accompanies autumn, the vibrancy of the leaves that look like flames. Cozying up in front of the hearth with Fleur and mulled wine during the Winter Solstice. Watching clouds drift through the sky with Tom in the wildflower meadows in spring.
It’s only barely late morning by the time we reach the portal, which doesn’t even look like much of anything.
“This is it? You’re serious?”
Bastian looks at me with furrowed brows. “Why wouldn’t I be serious?”
“Because the portal I fell through was a pool of water. This is… a ring of mushrooms! There’s no waythis,” I throw my arm out in the direction of said mushroom ring, “is a portal.”
“It’s called a faerie ring and it’s actually the most common form of portal that connects the realms.”
“But it’s just a circle on the ground!” I throw my arms in the air. I don’t even know why I’m fighting him on this. I would’ve expected something a bit more whimsical and outlandish than simply stepping into a circle andpoof. Give me vibrant, otherworldly, swirling mists.
In fact, it’s so nondescript that I almost walked right past it. I hadn’t noticed that Bastian had stopped. Too busy fixating on the imminent confrontation with my aunt, he had to reach a hand out to grab my upper arm and halt my movements.
“Do you want to go home or not?” he asks, eyebrow raised.
“Of course I do!”
“Then you’re going to have to get over it and use the fucking faerie ring.” He pinches the bridge of his nose in frustration.
“Fine, fine. All I do is step into the circle? That’s it? There’s nothing more I have to do? Like, think of a happy memory of the place I want to go to or click my heels together a predetermined number of times?”
“Heel clicking? What the fuck are you talking about?”
“Forget about it,” I mumble.
“You don’t need to do anything special. Simply step into the circle and it will spit you out in the human realm. Be careful?—”
I step forward into the ring before he can finish his sentence.
The feeling is entirely unsettling. It’s as quick as a blink, sure, but it feels like I’m free falling for that split second. My stomach rolls and I stumble out the other side of the ring, landing on my hands and knees and losing my breakfast.
I hear the crunch of leaves behind me as Bastian steps out of the faerie ring. “If you had let me finish,” he drawls, “I would have said to be careful of the falling feeling. It tends to get everyone on their first go.”
“You don’t say,” I deadpan between heaves on all fours. His body is warm as he kneels beside me and gathers my loose hair in one hand, holding it away from my face. Once I reach a point where there’s nothing else to expel, I turn my face to him. “I didn’t like that one bit. Why wasn’t it like that the first time?” I’m panting as I try to breathe through the lingering nausea.
He’s staring at where his hand has my hair gathered and looks as if he didn’t even hear me. After a moment, he finally turns his attention to my face, finding me looking at him expectantly. He shakes off whatever had his thoughts elsewhere. “Sorry, what?”
I roll my eyes. “I asked why it wasn’t like this the first time. I didn’t heave my guts up then.”
“I’m not sure. Maybe that portal was slightly different than this one. But this tends to happen the first time for everyone.” He releases my hair over one shoulder and begins to rub soothing circles into my back.
“Even you?”
“Especially me. It took me ages before the nausea stopped hitting. I think I lost my meals for the first handful or so,” he says with a self-deprecating laugh.
“That makes me feel a bit better then, I guess.”
“Glad I could help you feel better about yourself through my embarrassment,” he deadpans, but I can see the smile brightening his eyes. “How are you feeling now?”
“I think it’s just about subsided,” I say, taking another deep breath as I push off the ground to stand.
“You’re sure?” The concern is thick in his voice.
