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Finally, her best friend answered, her voice nothing but a tired rasp. “Hello?”
A sob escaped. “Pearl Jean? It’s me. Cookie. I...I’m back.”
* * *
SEVEN DAYS AFTER Cookie’s return to the mortal world, she rested her head on her friend’s shoulder, ready to take the next step for her life. They sat in the backyard, reclining on a swing of her own creation, made of vines and cushioned with leaves and flower petals.
After three days of avoiding her and three days of hissing in her face, Sugars had forgiven her for leaving. About thirty-eight percent, anyway. He currently stalked a bug around a garden of roses that had sprung up overnight, despite the cooler weather.
Turned out, the permanent doorway in the Dusklands’ castle led straight to Oklahoma. The cottage was less than ten miles from her farmhouse. Cookie had found a map—a lump grew in her throat, but she swallowed it. She’d been able to provide Pearl Jean with exact directions. Only fifteen minutes later, she’d been enfolded in the woman’s arms, sobbing and telling her about every trial, leaving nothing out.
“Your doormaking ability returned, huh?” Pearl Jean asked, her tone cautious.
There was no reason to deny it. “It did.” Last night, as Cookie climbed into her own bed, in her own home, she’d sensed the full charge of her glamara. She knew she’d have no trouble opening a doorway again, and she didn’t have to wonder why. She’d gained control of her emotions, realizing her happiness didn’t depend on Kaysar, but herself.
She could rule her kingdom, help her people, love her friends, and do everything she’d ever dreamed—without him. As soon as she’d barred him from her heart, the pain would fade.
“How’d you know, anyway?” she asked.
“Your attitude is much improved today. And before you get the wrong idea, I’m in no way saying your attitude is good. Because it isn’t. You’re still pouting over your beau.”
Pouting? Pouting! “He’s not my beau.” Cookie didn’t want him in a romantic way anymore. She’d given him every part of her heart, and he’d thrown it—her—away.
“Whatever he is or isn’t, you’re going back to Astaria, aren’t you? Despite cannibal centaurs, ghost goblins and vengeful kings?”
“I am.” Though Cookie had been gone from this mortal world only a few weeks, everything had changed. For her, at least. Nothing felt right here. Mortal clothing didn’t fit properly. The scents lacked the sweetness she’d grown accustomed to. Her cold mattress reminded her of rocks, sleep impossible. “I want you and Sugars with me. I’ll protect you from the monsters, I promise. And I’ve already picked a boy toy for you. You’ll get to live in a castle, of course.” She would be winning hers back, whoever she had to fight. “You’ll have servants, magical medicine for every disease you’re soon to contract, and—”
“I don’t need the hard sell, hon. Hot fae men? Of course I’m going with you. That isn’t even a question.”
She snorted. “You won’t be sorry.”
“Of course I won’t. I’ll be with you.” Pearl Jean patted her hand. “What about Kaysar?”
“What about him? We’re done. I’m in the process of kicking him out of my heart and hanging a vacancy sign. There’s nothing he can say or do to make this better. So good riddance. Better now than later. I like being single, anyway. His loss, right? There’s plenty of trash in the sea. And I’m not protesting too much, so stop thinking I am.”
“Whatever you say, hon.”
“I’m moving on,” she insisted with a firm nod. Through her example, Kaysar would witness what letting go of a turbulent past and grabbing hold of a bright future looked like. If he chose to war with her, fine. They’d war. She wouldn’t kill him; she didn’t hate him. But she refused to let him hurt her anymore. If she arrived and he suggested they get back together, well, he could go screw himself.
She’d expected his hate, but not his cruelty. He’d banished her from his life—from her home. A crime that came with a lifetime sentence.
“Are you sure you’re moving on? Because you look like you’re going to kill someone. And really, what if the man merely suffers from Redirectile Dysfunction? Think about it. You bombed his lifelong plans, forcing him to navigate a new path. He might just need time to acclimate.”
“I don’t care.” She’d given Kaysar everything, as she’d said she would, risking her own happiness to purchase his. If he couldn’t see that, he wasn’t a man worth knowing, much less missing. “And I’m done discussing him.”
“Fine. Don’t squeeze my head off like you did to those soldiers. Just tell me when we leave, and I’ll be ready.”
She regretted, slightly, telling Pearl Jean every detail about the battle. “Tonight. Eight,” she said with a firm nod. Enough time to do whatever needed doing. She’d been away from home long enough. “I’m not exactly sure what we’ll find on the other side of my door, so we’ll pack only the essentials. Things we can’t live without.”
