Another journal

The sylph rummaged in his fallen captor’s pockets while Ian explained. Emily and Tanis stood by the troll’s fire, Tanis warming her hands. Their shadows cast long, not quite touching the dead bodies.

“Air spirits. Stealthy and quick—”

“And therefore, the best way to employ our time is as servants and assassins.” The sylph looked up from where he crouched, holding a small bag. “Could one of you humans check what’s inside this for me? I can’t touch it.”

“Why, ’cause you’re ethereal?” Emily stomped a little as she walked over.

“No, because I think this is iron.”

“Oh.” Emily hesitated, but took the bag.

“I’m not ethereal anyway, obviously.”

“You couldn’t have killed those guys without some substance.” Tanis turned to warm her back, still keeping an eye on the sylph. “Why’d you kill them all, anyway?”

“Same reason you fools all decided it would be wise to free an unknown from trolls that could have easily killed you. It’s my nature.”

Emily spilled the contents of the bag into her hand. “Huh, nails.” With a frown, she quickly dumped them back and held out the bag to Tanis. “You could use these, make a spiky club or something.”

“A mace.” Tanis shrugged, “sure, but so could you.”

“Yeah, but you’re human.”

At this, the sylph looked over from where he sat, sorting what he’d stolen from the trolls.

Ian reached down and grabbed Emily’s arm. “Let me see.” His hand engulfed hers, but he was careful with his long, thick nails. Turning her palm up exposed swollen criss-crossed white lines that burned red on the edges. “Dammit, Emily, you should know better.”

“Yeah, but what if they hadn’t left a mark?”

“Then you’d still be an idiot.”

Tanis took Emily’s hand in her own, dangling the bag of nails. “Iron did this?”

“Yeah, it’s bad for fairies.” Emily jerked her hand free and folded her arms.

“Does it hurt other Folk more?”

“Probably.” Emily shrugged. “We should go back to the hare. You could do with a few more hours of sleep, I bet.”

The sylph started to follow them as they left the circle of firelight.

“Hey, what are you doing?” Ian scowled, turning back.

The sylph gave him a hint of a smile. “Coming along.”

“Um, no. We’re good on our own.” Emily had her arm around Tanis and looked over her shoulder. “You’re a stranger and you kill people.”

“What, them?” The sylph flipped his hand at the bodies. “They’re not truly dead. By morning they’ll have been absorbed back into the earth and in a couple of days they’ll pop back out, good as new.”

Tanis scrunched her nose. “Ew.”

“Huh, like mushrooms, but not really.” Emily frowned. “Still, why should we let you join us?”

“No reason, really. But I’m bored and you lot seem interesting.” He shrugged a sharp, broad shoulder disdainfully. “And you saved me. It’d be strange for you not to follow through on your offer of hospitality.”

Emily exchanged glances with Tanis and Ian, then shrugged. “Fine, but put the fire out, be responsible.”

They left the sylph and walked back to their camp. Emily figured he could find them when he was done.

***

They built a small fire and Tanis methodically unwrapped her hands, dropping something shiny into the front pocket of her backpack.

“You brought your brass knuckles?” Emily laughed.

“Yes,” Tanis was very matter of fact. “I figured, since I was bringing my hand wraps, I’d toss them in too.”

“That you even brought those—” Emily shook her head, trailing off. she looked at Tanis in the firelight, searching her face for damage or worry. Feeling eyes on her, Tanis looked up, meeting Emily’s gaze. She smiled, gave Emily a kiss and stretched out for a few more hours of sleep before dawn.

“You still look like you, even as an ogre.” Tanis’ voice was soft as she smiled up at Ian. “Good job, buddy.” Her breathing settled and the others moved to the opposite side of the fire, the hare pressing Emily and Ian for details. They quietly filled him in, Emily wincing more from embarrassment than pain when she showed him her hand.

“You really—”

“Should have known better, I know. But I use cast iron pans at home and it’s no big.” She bit her lip, thinking. “It really didn’t start to hurt until I wondered why it didn’t.”

The hare looked up at her through his lashes, but didn’t say anything. They finished telling him what happened, coming to the sylph’s decision to join them right as he walked into their circle of firelight, trailing a small gust of wind with him as a train. Emily was certain he’d been standing in the shadows, waiting for the perfect dramatic moment.

Before the sylph could say anything, the hare was rooting around Tanis’ backpack for his camera.

“Young man, you will be a perfect addition to my studies. Your kind do not often visit the Institute, so you’ve been severely under-represented.”

“Hare, dammit.” Emily hissed as she batted his paws away and pulled the camera out. “You’re going to fall in. Also, get out of her things.” She loaded the camera with fresh film.

The hare was not too excited to be annoyed. “She’s carrying my things.”

“Yeah, and she can stop doing that at any time.” Emily gave the hare his camera and he padded up to the sylph, who hadn’t moved from the spot he’d theatrically stepped into. He looked uncomfortable.

“Please don’t make faces.” The hare brusquely chided before taking a shot. “One more please, hold your pose—there.” The flash went off and the sylph reflexively took a step back. The hare grumbled as he examined the developing prints. “If you ruined my picture, we’ll just have to do it again, only without you acting like a baby.”

The sylph started to apologise, but looked up to see Emily and Ian quietly laughing, even half-asleep Tanis snorted before snuggling deeper under the covers. Stirring a dust devil, the Sylph spun on his heel and strode back into the forest.

“You were bored, you said! You wanted to join us, you said!” Emily called after him. “Well, buddy, this is who we are.”

Tanis looked up at Emily, who stooped over her for a kiss.

“You feeling okay?” Emily’s eyes held all the concern her voice didn’t.

“Yeah, we’re a good team.” Tanis’ smiling face sobered with sleep. “I didn’t really do anything, or hurt anybody much. We’ll see how I do next time.”

“There won’t be a next time.” Emily gave her another kiss.

“Lies. Tell Ian he looks great as an ogre.” She shut her eyes with determination.

Emily smiled at Tanis’ face relaxing into sleep. Brushing dirt from her knees, she wandered around the fire. The hare was nearby, muttering to himself as he compared Polaroids in the flickering light. Squatting on her heels by Ian, Emily stared over the flames at Tanis.

“She said you make a good ogre.”

“I make a pretty decent ogre, for somebody who wasn’t born doing it.”

“Don’t get down on yourself, man. Why do that?”

Ian waved a blocky hand. “It’s true. And I should have made a better stand against the trolls, instead of lucking out and letting that sylph do it.”

“Shut up.” Emily shook her head. “We’re all learning here.”

“Except me.” The hare interjected before turning back to his photographs.

“Fuck off, hare.” Emily kicked dirt at him. “You’re learning about that aura shit. Ian’s learning his place as an ogre in the Sidhe, I’m learning how to be open and communicative with my girlfriend, who is learning about my weird-ass past.” She tilted her head, watching the fire. “I mean, we’re all learning a bunch more stuff too, but that’s life, Ian. Always room for improvement. You stagnate; you die.”

“Okay,” Ian snorted.

“My advice is good and consoling, appreciate it. Maybe like, just stay in ogre form. Really take a chance to live in it.”

“That is actually pretty good advice. But the hare’s carrier wasn’t built to be adjustable, so I can’t wear it in ogre form.”

Emily wrinkled her nose. “And Tanis and I already are carrying bags, plus neither of us want to carry the hare.”

Ian and Emily both guiltily looked towards the hare, but he was busy scratching notes into a beat-up leather book and didn’t seem to have noticed.

“You could wait to change back until morning.”

“I prefer to do it at night.”

“Like a werewolf?”
“Or like somebody with a sense of modesty. I’m not cool with being naked in front of you guys. Or you watching me change. It probably looks gross. I’ve read Animorphs.” Ian dug his claw-nailed toes into the dirt. “I mean, I’ve naturally got less fingers than a human does right now. I know my hands look deeply upsetting when I shift.”

“Ha, ogres must have a base eight system.”

“I don’t know what that means.”

Emily shrugged. “Neither do I.”

Ian got up and wandered outside the ring of firelight, into the black wall of night. Emily watched the fire and Tanis, worrying about Ian’s vulnerability as he changed back into human form. She tried not to look too relieved when he came back, still folding his kilt, which Emily was now certain was the fabric she’d bought for curtains last spring and thought she’d misplaced.

He pulled a pack of playing cards out of a cargo pocket and played solitaire while Emily rolled more cigarettes. Eventually, he dealt hands and they rotated through different games with the casualness of people who’d been bullshitting each other at cards for years. The hare tried to join in a round of four-of-a-kind, but he couldn’t hold the cards and kept accusing the others of looking.

“It’s difficult not to when you just lay them out on the ground like that, but I’m not trying to cheat.” Emily kept her eyes on her hand. “Believe me or stop playing.”

The hare stopped playing.

Dawn broke through the canopy, spilling cold morning light across the ground. They let the fire settle into coals and Emily woke Tanis when the dim edges of dawn had cleared.

The hare reassured them that the jump was close by and they started off after both Tanis and Emily separately checked that the fire was dead and ashes scattered.

The jump was actually closer than the hare had thought. Emily was only a couple of drags into her cigarette before they reached it. Two paper birches, peeling delicately, stood as a stark white door frame in a clearing just off the path.

“So, we could have gone through last night.” Emily rolled her eyes.

“It’s probably better that we didn’t, I was getting pretty tired.” Tanis shifted the backpack straps. “And we had an encounter.”

“Yes, it was a real teaching moment.”

Tanis stuck her tongue out at Emily and they walked through the jump.

---

This post is part of The Consoling Divide – Serialised. See the archive and overall content warnings here, and find more of my writing here. I’m over on both Comradery and Patreon, if you feel like supporting my creative endeavours. If you’d like to subscribe to this story, here’s a handy email box for you:

Emily slouched in the weird sling back chair in the living room and listened to the others argue at the dining table.

“Less chatting, more deciding.” She gave them a cold stare over her book and Tank, who’d been the instigator, hunched his shoulders and sighed.

“Okay,” he relented. “I’ll vote whatever Dawn votes.”

“Oh my god, I am so surprised.” Hannah’s disdain was incredibly well-rounded for someone who’d only just gotten their driver’s licence. “Well, that means we’re exactly split on the decision, thanks.” She pushed herself away from the table, chair legs squeaking against the already battered linoleum. “I’m going to watch makeup vids with Matty, text us when you guys figure your shit out.”

“Ian, do something!” Tank pushed his fingers through too-long, sun bleached hair, exasperated.

Ian laughed and called out at Hannah, through the screen door, “wait, no, stop! We’ll be trapped here forever unless we work as a team.” His sister flipped him off over her shoulder as she jumped down the last two stairs. He shrugged. “Fuck it, let’s flip a coin. I call heads.”

The sound of a quarter clattering as it landed was drowned out by groans from the losing side. Emily closed her book and stood, stretching. 

“So, what’s the verdict?” She’d guessed, but tried to keep the hope from her face. She knew that she was incredibly biased, which is why she’d voted but kept out of the discussion after.

Abby matter-of-factly coiled her hair into a bun and jabbed a pencil through it before answering. “The nays have it. We won’t ask the hare to find out what happened to all of our parents, after.”

Emily let out a breath she hadn’t known she was holding. “Okay, that’s settled then. Of course, you’re all free beings and can inquire on your own time, but if you learn anything about somebody else’s family, you don’t volunteer the info, right?”

A chorus of yeses, some reluctant and whispered, answered. She closed her eyes for a moment, wishing she was older. “Let’s order delivery, okay?”

†

“The pack isn’t bothering you?”

“It’s like it’s empty and my feet are fine, before you ask.” Tanis gave Emily a gentle shove as they walked down the forest path. “Stop mom-ing. Aren’t you the one who says not to think about it?”

“It’s a mixture of curiosity and paranoia.” Emily hitched her bag around and pulled out the tobacco to roll a cigarette.

“Where’s all the worry for me?” Ian teased, reaching out to take the finished cigarette.

Emily sighed and handed it over, rolling herself another. “Ian, you can turn into an ogre. I have no reason to worry about you. Hare, are you comfortable?”

The hare shrugged from the basket on Ian’s back. “Despite the expected roughness of the ride, it is more comfortable than being carried in someone’s arms.”

“With the added bonus that nobody has to carry you in their arms.”

“Or drop me. You’ve dropped me before, Emily.”

“You deserved it.” She moved to the front of the group, calling back, “we just keep following this path, right?”

“Yes, the jump point will be obvious.” Emily could hear the hare sniff, annoyed. “I wish I could see where we’re going.”

“Dude, you already know where we’re going. And I’m not carrying this thing on my front like a baby carrier.” Ian adjusted the straps, jostling the hare, who hunched deeper into the wicker, pouting.

Emily wished she had a better sense of time. Even after stuffing it with a stupid amount of film boxes, Tanis had plenty of room for food in her backpack. The folks at the Institute provided her with basics to supplement the C-rations and energy bars she’d brought with her.

Tanis promised Emily that she would aware of when she needed to eat, but Emily continued to fret. None of them had ever tried to find food in the wilds of the Sidhe and she hoped they wouldn’t have to. As long as there were regular stops at villages and the huts of friendly strangers, they’d be fine. Emily was grateful that most Folk ate once in a while, even if they didn’t need to. The pleasure of food was hard to resist.

It didn’t seem like they were in the same forest Emily had been to before with the hare. There was underbrush and the trees were less dense, letting through beams of sun. They came to a spot where the path widened, creating a sort of natural turnout.

Tanis called them to a stop for lunch and Emily asked the hare something she’d always meant to.

“So, the whole Summer Court and Winter Court thing, is that just in stories or is it real?” She leaned up against a tree, rolling cigarettes.

Ian gently set the hare’s basket on the ground and took one of Emily’s cigarettes, cautioning her— “don’t say anyone’s names.”

“I’m not stupid, Ian.”

The hare wriggled out of his carrier and set to cleaning his whiskers of road dust. “They are quite real, obviously.”

“Okay. So, do they take turns doing their thing? How do seasons work?”

“They don’t. The courts compromise on where their demesnes overlap. How they could decide who goes when and where is beyond comprehension, I think each would rather always rule.”

Emily slid her back down the trunk to sit on her heels while she placed the finished cigarettes into a metal case. “I guess they understand that there has to be a balance.”

“What season is it now?” Tanis asked through her sandwich.

“Now is a pretty flexible thing. Here and now, we are where the courts overlap,” the hare tilted his head, twitching his whiskers. “Maybe closer to winter, though I’d thought it was the other one we were nearer.”

“So, it’s pretty much always spring or fall unless you’re right up in one of their kingdoms?” Tanis stood, brushing crumbs off her lap. “That seems nice.” She looked around. “These trees don’t provide a lot of cover. If you could all look over there for a bit while I tend to my human needs?”

The group politely faced away as Tanis stepped off the path. Emily spoke loudly, trying to cover any noises.

“So, who is it we’re going to see, hare?”

“Some friends of mine.” He nibbled a piece of grass thoughtfully.

Ian rolled his eyes, “yeah, but who are these friends?”

“Dwarves. We’ll take a jump tomorrow that brings us to a cave entrance. Their domain stretches underneath a lot of kingdoms and they love gossip. If anyone knows where Abby’s forest is, they will.”

“It’s so weird that you guys wait to ask where we’re going until after we’ve started going there.” Tanis stepped over a fallen tree and looked down at Ian.

He shrugged. “It’s not like Emily or I have contacts here. We have to go with what the hare’s got.”

“Good enough, I guess.” Tanis made a face and swung on her backpack. “Well, shall we continue? Let’s eat some miles before I have to sleep.”

The forest seemed unoccupied but, as they walked Emily saw traces of animals. From her hikes with Tanis she knew that forests always appeared empty until they very much weren’t—a squirrel fight boiling across a path, shadows in the trees dissolving into deer. Emily smiled.

“What?” Tanis elbowed her. They’d been walking next to each other, with Ian and the hare on point.

“I forgot that you used to make me go on hikes.”

“Make? C’mon, you had fun.”

“Sure, that is why mostly now we only walk far enough off road to find a good place for a picnic.”

“It’s a compromise. Like how we only sort of go on drives.”

“Yeah, you’re not super good at those.”

“What are drives?” The hare peered at them, his bright black eyes just clearing the basket’s edge.

Tanis giggled while Emily tried to explain. Cutting short the hare’s follow-up questions, they traded places with Ian, the hare complaining that he’d be bored with no one to talk to.

---

This post is part of The Consoling Divide – Serialised. See the archive and overall content warnings here, and find more of my writing here. I’m over on both Comradery and Patreon, if you feel like supporting my creative endeavours. If you’d like to subscribe to this story, here’s a handy email box for you:

Tanis yawned.

“Get some sleep. Who knows how long we’ve been awake.” Emily leaned forward to pull off Tanis’ boots.

“Where’s the bathroom?”

Emily cocked her head. “Huh, I don’t know.” She stood. “I’m going to go ask and also see about getting you some food. Don’t let Ian’s and my weirdness here fuck up your schedule. You still have to do the normal human stuff.”

Tanis finished kicking off her pants and slid under the covers. She already looked half asleep. Emily turned down the lantern by the bed and padded to the door, opening it softly.

“Hey baby?” Tanis’ voice was small.

“Yeah?”

“Will you cuddle me for a little while when you get back? Even if you can’t sleep?”

“Of course. I will find a bathroom for you and then come back for snuggles.”

There was no answer. Emily shut the door carefully behind her and wandered down the hall. She stopped at a room she remembered, pushing the half-open door.

“Devora?” Emily’s voice echoed into an empty room. Even the siren’s sound-proofing was gone. Emily felt sad. She made herself hold onto the feeling, the hollow beneath her ribs, just for a moment. It was something she’d taught the kids.

Leaning against the door frame, she remembered Ian and Tank’s sceptical teenage faces.

“But why relish bummers?” A seventeen-year-old Ian scoffed, folding lanky brown arms he wouldn’t grow into for a year.

“Dude.” Tank shook sun-bleached hair from his eyes in a way that settled it right back in his face. “Feeling shit and giving a shit is our humanity.”

“You’re a hippie.”

“Your moustache sucks.”

Emily had stepped in before it escalated. “Tank’s right. Be Folk, use what skills and powers you get from that, but keep your humanity too.”

“Fine.” Ian shoved Tank, who giggled.

“If you feel bad about your moustache, take a moment to contemplate that.” He dodged another shove. “Your feelings of facial hair inadequacy mean you’re human!”

Emily laughed, remembering how Tank had tripped over his own feet dancing out of Ian’s grasp.

“Ah, human laughter.”

Emily turned to the voice behind her.

“Or not human.” The sphinx sat, twitching her tail.

“Appreciate you noticing. Hey, speaking of humans, do you know if there are like, bathrooms?” Emily held up her hand. “No riddles, don’t be a dick. I’m asking for a friend.”

The sphinx sighed dramatically. “Fine. You’re no fun.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Well, your ‘friend’ will find that there is one conveniently located next to their room.”

“Lady, I don’t want to use the bathroom for fun. I’ve done my time and I’m good Also, how do you even know where the room is?”

“I’m a sphinx. I know lots of things.” She stood with a stretch that unsheathed her claws and padded off, adding over her shoulder, “and the hare sent me to tell you.”

Emily watched the sphinx disappear around a bend before heading back to let Tanis know she didn’t have to worry about wetting the bed. She let her feet guide her back, running her hand against the wall and thinking of the invisible wards and sigils hidden within the plaster. After everybody had grouped into the three trailers and abandoned the rest to dust, Emily taught the kids basic wards, not telling them she was learning while they did it too. Between the Hare and a surprisingly robust selection of library books, they’d freshened up the paint in colours the kids chose, hiding a layer of protection beneath the bright coats. Emily didn’t know if things like that had any real power in the mundane world, but they all felt better afterwards, which was more important.

“Hey babe, turns out it’s right next—” Emily opened the door while talking, stopping when she saw her girlfriend’s soft, sleeping face. Tanis was curled up like she did when she was fully sacked out, the blankets clutched up against her chest. Emily smiled. Tanis was a world-class blanket thief. Getting up in the middle of the night meant a quiet struggle trying to reclaim the covers she’d carelessly abandoned before she could get back into bed.

Her smile faded. She’d known Tanis was half-asleep already but still let herself get caught up in memories and wandering instead of coming right back. Just because she was used to the timeless nothingness of the Sidhe didn’t mean Tanis was. Emily took off her shoes, stumbling once into the footboard and jostling the bed. She froze, but Tanis just tightened her grip on the blankets, a small line between her eyebrows. Carefully, Emily climbed onto the bed, on top of the covers, cradling Tanis’ sleeping form and wrapping her arm around her. She felt Tanis tense then relax against her with a soft exhale. It felt like home.

***

The hare brought them breakfast on a wheeled cart pulled, somehow, by his assistants. He came through the door while Tanis was still under the covers, rubbing her eyes. He had apparently made plans while Tanis slept and Emily stared out the window, trying to figure out what was so off-putting about the winter garden’s night sky.

“I’m coming with you.” The hare shooed his assistants from the covered dishes like flies. “Girls, go get Ian.” The sprites flew off.

“Why the fuck would you do that?” Emily poured coffee for Tanis and fit the mug into her sleep-fumbling hands.

Ian strode in with the hare’s assistants in his wake. He dove at the food like he actually needed it to survive, pausing briefly only to ask if there was enough to share. Tanis was waking up and starting to look annoyed at the amount of people in the small room. She tucked the covers more tightly around her legs. Emily stared down the hare, who still hadn’t answered her question.

“Well?” Emily poured herself a mug of coffee pointed at the hare with it. “We are grateful to you for bringing us food, you’re wonderful, now tell me why you think you’re travelling with us.”

The hare dismissed his assistants and closed the door. “I have a confession to make.” He lifted his nose up, whiskers twitching. “I am unfulfilled as a scientist.”

Emily snorted. “That’s it?”

“That’s a lot!” The hare laid his ears back. “I’ve run out of things to document here, you saw my backlog of unused film. If I accompany you three, then I will most certainly encounter all sorts of things and people. Besides,” he sniffed, “I know a lot more about the expanses of the Sidhe than you.”

“He has a point.” Tanis reached for the bread and jam, but couldn’t quite reach it from the bed.

Emily made a plate for her, adding sausages. “He does. I apologise, hare.”

“Good, it’s settled then. We will leave this evening.”

“Whoa, for where?” Ian spoke with his mouth full. Emily glared at him and he hastily swallowed before adding, “did you find out where Abby’s forest is?”

“No, but I know someone who might know.”

“No. No way.” Emily shook her head vehemently. “I have been down this path with you before.”

The hare spread his paws, exasperated. “There’s no proof the bear died.”

“Other than the giant pool of blood and no body, totally.” Emily folded her arms. “I’m sure Crawburn probably just sauntered off and was never heard from again for personal reasons.”

“It’s possible!” The hare hunched his scruff. “But, despite your objections, it would be in Abby’s best interest that we leave as soon as possible.”

Tanis raised her hand. “Okay. Wow. How about all of you leave, except Emily, so I can put some pants on and talk this over with her.” She frowned at Ian, who had a mouthful of food and looked sad. “Take your plate with you, it’s fine.”

As soon as Ian closed the door, Tanis pointed at Emily. “I really, really have to pee, but you need to explain the bear.”

“He was a guide that the hare knew, one day in the forest we woke up and he was gone.” Emily looked at her reflection in her coffee cup as she spoke.

“Other than the blood.”

“Yeah, other than the blood.”

Tanis did a little hop as she finished pulling on her pants. “Good god, Emily.”

Though it felt flippant, and a lie, Emily could only shrug in response.

 ***

When Tanis came back from the bathroom, Emily had made the bed and changed into the clothes from the sprites’ village. She’d kept the worn, braided leather belt she had worn with her jeans, but it still sort of worked.

“What I don’t get is why they installed one of those Japanese talking toilets. It’s really out of place that uses kerosene lanterns for light.” Tanis shook her head, then looked again at Emily. “How did you fit those into your little bag?”

Emily blushed. “I snuck them into your backpack.” She awkwardly smoothed her tunic. “Do I look stupid?”

Tanis smiled, eyes crinkling against the lines from the sheets embossed on her face. “You look great.”

They poured more coffee and sat next to each other on the bed, trying not to spill as they leaned into each other.

“We don’t really have a choice, do we?” Tanis leaned forward to grab her plate. Setting it carefully on her knees, she speared a sausage and looked at is suspiciously for a second before biting in. “Should I wonder what this is?”

“No, we don’t really have a choice and meat is meat but I do not think you need to worry that what you’re eating used to talk, or anything.”

“Super reassuring on both ends.”

“Yeah, well.” Emily stared into the dark mirror of her mug. “However duplicitous the hare may be about the edges of things, he doesn’t outright lie. If he says he’ll take us to people who can tell us about Abby, then he will.”

“He’ll just make sure he gets something out of it too.”

“Exactly. Look at how smart you are.” Emily sipped her coffee while Tanis wiped her plate with the last hunk of bread. “It’s funny. When I first came to the Sidhe, I slept pretty much until I was told I didn’t have to.”

“So, you think maybe I don’t have to?”

“I don’t know, your body seemed to shut down pretty naturally. Maybe though, what a person can do here is only what they think they can do, but like, within bounds.”

There was a knock on the door. Emily jumped up to open it, almost spilling Tanis’ coffee and plate. “Shit, sorry.”

“No bigs. Poor Ian, I didn’t mean to leave him out there for so long. I mostly wanted the hare out.”

Ian lounged against the door frame. “So, are we going today, did you guys decide?” He gestured with a plate that looked like it had been licked clean.

“Yeah, little choice, really.”

He nodded, his face very serious. “We should do the Three Musketeers thing, but first, let’s address what you’re wearing.”

“No, let’s not and these are my Sidhe travelling clothes, shut up pre-emptively.” Emily made a face while Tanis bounced on the bed behind her, threatening her coffee further. She leaned over, stretching out her arm and slapped her free hand on top of Ian’s.

“You are such a grump, let’s do this!”

Bullied by the others, Emily added her hand to theirs and chanted, “all for one and one for all!”

---

This post is part of The Consoling Divide – Serialised. See the archive and overall content warnings here, and find more of my writing here. I’m over on both Comradery and Patreon, if you feel like supporting my creative endeavours. If you’d like to subscribe to this story, here’s a handy email box for you:

The three of them sat in the summer garden, Ian and Tanis at opposite ends of an ornate stone bench, Emily stretched flat in the dry prickly grass.

“It could be a day or a hundred years gone by if we go back now.” Ian kicked at a clump of dirt. He’d apologised constantly until Emily told him to stop.

“We might as well forge ahead.” Emily stretched, rubbing her bare feet on the grass. “It’s the same logic as taking our time coming here.”

Tanis fiddled with a strap on the backpack next to her. “Everyone is going to worry.”

“I only had a couple of shifts left before my time off and your boss pretty much told you to stop coming in.” Emily threw an arm over her eyes to block the sun. “He’ll probably just shrug and start marking it as PTO.”

“But my folks—” Tanis slumped back.

Ian tried to sound positive. “We can send letters.”

“True. Whatever time they do show up, at least we’ll have done our due diligence. Babe, you can send one to your folks that says we went on vacation early. I’ll send an apology to my boss, who will probably chalk it up to young love and mentally note to chide me when I return, and also ask if I finally proposed.” Emily kicked her foot at Ian. “Where’s paper?”

“The fox lady has some, but I think she only has dip pens.”

Emily rubbed her face with both hands. “Be a doll and get us letter writing stuff, please.”

After Ian left, shoulders drooping, Emily turned her face to look up at Tanis, sitting tensely still other than her fingers folding the loose strapping of the backpack. She  patted the ground next to her. “Lay down, calm down.”

Tanis lay close, curling onto her side to stare at Emily.

“You wanted to come.”

“But—”

“Not like this, I know. It looks like my bad luck wasn’t done with you.” She shifted, touching her forehead to Tanis’. “I’m really sorry, baby.”

“How are you so calm?”

Emily sighed, then wrapped her arm around Tanis, her curly gold head on her chest. “Because, if I didn’t stay calm, I’d tear Ian apart.” She closed her eyes against the garden’s sun. “And, I don’t know. Something about this place makes me forget, makes me worry less. You shouldn’t examine things too closely here—bad things can turn horrible if you think about them too much.

“You know I used to have nightmares about getting stuck here? The kind where no matter how fast you move it’s like pushing through water and you can’t hold anything right?”

“You still have nightmares.” Tanis’ voice was muffled, she tilted her head up, adding clearly, “you kick.”

“So you’ve told me.” Emily kissed her hair. “Well, I don’t remember them anymore. But my point is,”

“You have a point?”

“Shut up. My point is that even though I am now essentially living a nightmare, I have you with me, so it isn’t that bad. And I have a goal other than escaping, which is even better.”

“You’re really bad at sentiment.”

Emily tickled Tanis, who squealed and slapped wildly until she could wriggle free. They grinned at each other.

“Interrupting something?” Ian held a stack of paper and a fist full of pens.

“Don’t be gross.” Emily wrinkled her nose. “That’s probably more stuff than we need.”

“Yeah, I think the fox lady was excited to learn that I’m literate.” He handed Emily and Tanis paper and let them pick pens. “I was just glad she had regular things to write with and that I didn’t have to bring a pot of ink with me.

“The kitsune has a name.” Emily sat up and scootched closer to the bench to use it as a writing surface. “A use-name, I mean.”

“Yeah, but then I wouldn’t get that song in my head when I call her fox lady.” He hummed, playing air guitar.

“You’re so weird, Ian.” Tanis shook her head and started her letter.

***

Tanis held Emily’s hand as she dropped her letter through the jump point. She bit her lip. “So weird.” They stood with their toes on a border that had been chalked around the broken pieces of wood from the artifact Emily had broken to make the passage.

“Yeah.” Emily squeezed her hand. “So near and so impossibly far.” She turned her head so that her front porch shimmered briefly into focus from the corner of her eye.

They gathered Ian from the scrying lab and headed towards the rooms the hare had found for them.

“How big is this place?” Tanis ran a hand along the wall. “Is it underground?”

“It’s as big as it needs to be.” Ian smiled. “And it just is, not underground or above it. There are maps, but they’re not always useful.”

“There are maps?” Emily looked surprised.

Ian was smug. “Yep. You’re not the only one to spend lots of time here.”

“You have me to thank for that.”

“True.”

Tanis frowned at the branching halls they passed. “Do people get lost?”

“You figure it out.” Emily shrugged. “And you can always ask someone for directions. You’ve got a fifty-fifty chance they’ll point you in the right way.”

Tanis’ frown stayed as they passed a very palpable shadow.

Ian clapped her on the shoulder. “Worst someone here can do is creep you out. Nobody eats anybody at the Institute.” He opened a door. “Here’s me. You two are across the hall.”

Emily and Tanis entered a simple, small room with rough plastered walls and a window.

“Pretty spartan.” Tanis peeked under the bed.

“That’s why I called it the monastery until they told me to stop. It’s properly called the ‘Institute of Studies.’”

“Oh, that’s a nice, explanatory name.”

“Hey, you can see out!” Tanis pulled up the sash. “Oof, it’s cold. And dark.” She leaned over the sill.

Emily dropped her bag on a chair. “That must be the winter garden.” She peered over Tanis’ shoulder. “It’s a bitch to get out of, so don’t go through the window.”

“I wouldn’t.” Tanis was defensive. “Anyway, they have a garden for each season? Are they inside giant rooms, or something?”

“Or something.”

Tanis shut the window. “There’s a lot of ‘or somethings’ here.”

“Yeah.” Emily sat on the bed. “Things are super defined and not at the same time.”

“Speaking of ill-defined, what’s the ‘or something’ about everyone’s parents?” Tanis flopped backwards onto the mattress. Their combined weight sagged the rope supports and Emily tilted towards Tanis.

“So, my deal with the king was that I’d kill his wife and everyone could go back. There was a contract and everything. But it didn’t say that they would get to return under their former status. Or that they’d been forgiven for inciting the civil war.

“I don’t think they thought about that. They all just blithely marched through the arbour. But none of that group had ever been big on incidentals.” Emily leaned back on her elbows, shifting the weight again so that Tanis rolled into her. Emily felt a hand touch hers. “I don’t know what happened to all of them. Most fell off the map. Matty’s folks were smart and high-tailed it to a different kingdom. Tank’s parents were killed or disappeared, the idiots just waltzed back into the throne room like nothing had happened.”

“What about your aunt?”

“Janice spent some time here at the Institute and then took off. Her last letter was about going on adventures again, like she had before she met the king. She was the only innocent, so she had nothing to worry about.”

“And Becky?”

Emily shook her head. “She was some sort of scribe or record keeper. Janice said she’d seen her around the Institute a couple of times, but that’s all I’ve ever heard of her.”

“So, you guys are really all alone?”

“What?” Emily looked down at Tanis, the sleepiness of her eyes overlaid with a familiar mix of concern and confusion. “Of course we’re not alone, we have each other.”

---

This post is part of The Consoling Divide – Serialised. See the archive and overall content warnings here, and find more of my writing here. I’m over on both Comradery and Patreon, if you feel like supporting my creative endeavours. If you’d like to subscribe to this story, here’s a handy email box for you:

Tanis and Emily requested vacation time from their respective employers and got it. Emily’s boss seemed relieved.

“It’s been almost five years you’ve worked here and I dunno if you’ve taken a sick day, let alone an actual vacation. You can’t run yourself down.”

Emily smiled, not knowing how to respond.

“You going with that lady of yours?” The cafe owner grinned while she initialled the cash drop. She’d been slow to realise that Tanis wasn’t more than just a friend of Emily’s, but could now be relied on to occasionally tease them about making it official.

“Yeah, Tanis and I are going on a trip.”

“Well, you girls have fun!” With a leer that had only the purest intentions behind it, she took the bank envelope and left.

Emily exhaled with relief at avoiding questions about their ‘vacation’ and focused on plotting the upcoming schedules, easing off the hours she was there so the other morning barista could get used to the routine.

Tanis had nearly as smooth a time, though for a less wholesome reason. It turned out the program she worked for was losing funding. Her boss was apologetic, Tanis was horrified.

“He said, ‘I suggest you just line up all your PTO and take it as soon as possible. I am betting we won’t be able to buy you out when we close up shop.” Tanis shook her head, shocked. “I mean, I know how employment is, with how the world is now, but? Ugh. And he said there’s little reason to keep coming in, either.”

“Your life has been super lucky.” Emily pulled her close, resting her cheek in Tanis’ hair. “Family, college, job out of college, grad school, then a better job?” She pushed back on Tanis’ shoulders to look her in the eye. “But then, you had to find me.” Emily gave a crooked smile. “Some of my bad luck must have rubbed off—to balance out all the good luck of having you.”

“You are super sweet and super fucked up. But thank you.” She snuggled closer again. Emily could hear Tanis’ voice echoing through her skull into her cheek, muffling the words. “I wonder if we can move up the time table?”

“Well, we could do recon if you’re feeling antsy. Are you packed?”

“Not yet, but I guess I have time to do it now.”

“Pack some basics in the backpack I gave you and we can pop in the next time Ian has an evening off.”

Tanis called Emily later that evening as she packed. “I know it’s just a day trip, but I want to be prepared.”

“Girl scout.”

“Well, yeah.”

“Wait, you were a Girl Scout?”

“I’ve told you this. I was for years. It’s how I first encountered self-defence training.” There were crinkling sounds over the speaker.

“Are you packing candy?”

“No, Pavlov’s dog, I am packing energy bars. Real ones.”

“Why?”

“Well, some Sidhe-info know-it-all pointed out that I’m just a boring human who’ll still get hungry. And who knows what’s edible, or has the right vitamins.”

“Vitamins.”

“I’m not getting scurvy in fairyland.”

“Like a pirate.”

“Focus.”

Emily walked down the porch stairs into the evening-cool grass and lay down, staring at the stars, feeling the grass tickle her ear along the border of the phone. “Focusing.”

“Besides, the only way to see if the backpack’s magic works for me is to try it. So, I’ll pack it full and see how it wears over the time we’re there.”

“You are full of brains.”

“Are you drinking.”

“No. But I think I have that close-to-death whimsical mania. Joy interspersed by stomach-dropping terror.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“You don’t know. Tanis, it’s such a world of imagination that you can’t imagine it. But at the same time, it’s less than nothing.”

“Don’t think about it.”

“What?”

“Honey, I know I’ve been at you to open up, but you obviously have a strong coping mechanism in packing shit away until you can deal with it. If you don’t feel like you can keep it together right now, it is okay to just not worry about it. I give you permission to bottle it up.”

“But—”

“Only if you promise to uncork the damn bottle later with me so we can work that shit out.”

“Baby,” Emily sniffled.

“C’mon, give me your word, I know you fairies live for that shit.”

“Micro-agression. But, I give you my word.”

Tanis snickered and Emily joined in. She watched the stars slowly spin around the pole while she listened to Tanis pack.

***

“So, we should only be gone a couple of hours at most. I just want to get some info.” Emily tried to keep her tone casual. She made regular visits to the Sidhe to give the hare film. This would be no different, except she wouldn’t make the trip as fast as possible and she’d be with Tanis. She glanced at her girlfriend, who was kitted out in her most comfortable and worn-in hiking gear, her hair perfectly golden in the strong, late afternoon sun.

Ian gently shook Emily by the shoulder. “Chill, lady.”

She swatted his hand away, smiling behind her frown. With the rhythm of habit, she patted her pockets and tapped her small shoulder bag. She’d packed film for the hare, rolling tobacco, her Polaroid, spare film for it and a lighter. She’d slung a sweatshirt over the bag, ever the kind of person who always takes an extra layer, even in the summer. Her knife sat on her belt, a distantly familiar weight.

Rolling her eyes as she went through her pockets again, Emily pulled out her keys and wallet. “Man, I never remember.” She handed them over to Ian.

“Why leave them here?” Tanis cocked her head.

“Because it’d suck if I lost my keys somewhere in there, or if some shit stole my I.D. or something.”

“Also, it’s got your name on it,” Ian added. “Folk can read English.”

“Through my pants?” Tanis rolled her eyes, but handed her keys and money clip over. Emily had already warned her about the power of names in the Sidhe.

“You ready?” Emily grabbed Tanis’ hand.

“Totally, besides, I already went once with the boys.” She squeezed Emily’s hand.

“Fine then.” Emily took a deep breath and poked Ian in the arm. “Be good.”

“Always.” He flopped onto the ground, half in and half out of the arbour.

---

This post is part of The Consoling Divide – Serialised. See the archive and overall content warnings here, and find more of my writing here. I’m over on both Comradery and Patreon, if you feel like supporting my creative endeavours. If you’d like to subscribe to this story, here’s a handy email box for you:

Tanis visited Emily at the coffee shop in the late morning, wearing one of her shirts. It was loose and tight in all the wrong places and Emily thought she looked beautiful. She smiled reflexively at Tanis before remembering everything they’d talked about the night before. Her past felt like a violation of Tanis’ normalcy. Emily held the smile as she rung up a customer, but the lines around her eyes dissolved into worry as Tanis came up to the counter.

“Have you had a lunch break yet” She held up a bag. “I made sandwiches.” There was a glimmer of a smile. “Also, chips.”

Emily let herself grin and clocked out, leaving the counter to the other barista. Tanis picked a booth near the back, setting out the sandwiches. Emily brought over sodas and they dug in. Between bites, Tanis took an overly casual tone.

“I met the hare today.”

“You WHAT.” Emily bellowed. Her backup leaned over the counter, frowning. Emily waved him back, keeping her eyes on Tanis. When she spoke again, it was very measured. “What did you tell Michael and Ian?”

“That I was informed as to what was up.” Tanis guiltily took another bite. “They were really proud of you. Michael sat watch and Ian took me in and introduced me to the hare.”

“I cannot fucking believe this.”

“He is so adorable! And he wears glasses!”

“That I bought him. This is the sixth pair. He keeps losing them.” Emily grumpily crunched at chips.

Tanis wiped her fingers on a napkin and grabbed Emily’s hand. “I want to go with you to the Sidhe to help Abby.”

“No.” Emily shook her head and wrapped up the uneaten half of her sandwich. “Lunch is over, no you will not go with me and we will talk about this later.”

Tanis grinned up at Emily as she left and clocked back in. Throwing a stern glance at the other barista, who fled to the stock room, Emily served the growing flow of lunch customers while Tanis giddily smiled at her from the back booth, leisurely finishing her sandwich before leaving.

Emily fumed on the walk home. First, Tanis didn’t want her to risk the time debt of the Sidhe and now she was all for it. Tanis had loving parents, friends from college and high school. She had friendly ex-girlfriends and groupchats. People who’d miss her if the mundane world decided to jump forward decades while she was in the Sidhe. Emily knew Tanis had an impulsive streak. It’s what made her move from the city to a nameless small town for a graduate program, or take boxing classes that involved sparring. She’d jump into the car just to drive somewhere new with Emily. Throw in the promise of talking animals and the Sidhe was exactly the kind of thing that would tempt her, despite all reason.

Ian, Michael and Tanis were all on the porch of Emily’s trailer. She knew them all well enough to see by their smiles she’d lose any argument.

“Michael was filling me in on time debt.” Tanis creaked back in her chair, Ian’s cat on her lap. “I think it’s worth the risk.”

Emily leaned on the railing, outside the circle of chairs. “If you missed one of your parent’s weekly phone calls, they’d flip. You can’t disappear into the unknown possibility, Tanis.”

“Yeah, but if I said we were going on vacation for a couple of weeks—which we essentially are—”

“They’d want updates from the road.”

“So, we send them postcards, like Abby did. Write them all up before we go and have Michael and Ian send them. But the point is, those weeks can be a buffer. Who knows how time will swing for us? And we can push back our return date with letters about the fun we’re having.”

“And your job?”

“I’ll use all my vacation time. I have a lot saved up. As do you. And if I’m eventually a no-show, then fine.”

“Your apartment.”

“I can pay my lease up for the next six months. Important things I can stash here.”

“What about—”

“Dammit Emily! I’m going with you. I don’t want to just share normal life with you, I want to share all of it, fucked up fairy world and all.”

Emily sniffed. “Okay, when do we leave?”

“First, you sit down and stop hovering.” Tanis patted a chair. Emily peeled herself off the railing, walked past the chair and fell into her hammock. Tanis raised an eyebrow, but continued. “Because who knows how much time has passed in the Sidhe in the past two days, we have the ability to give a week or two of notice about going on vacation. Rushing won’t help anything. We have time to plan and pack, even make a reconnaissance mission with somebody sitting watch.”

“You’ve thought this out pretty thoroughly.” Emily swung gently in the hammock as she lit a cigarette.

Tanis smiled. “It’s important to me.”

“Thank you.” Emily smiled back.

“Michael and I helped figure a lot of it out too.” Ian added.

***

They decided on a rough plan of action and Tanis went back home. Not too long after, Ian and Michael went back to their trailers. Restless, Emily wandered inside. She leaned against the kitchen island and tried to make a list of things to pack. It wasn’t much better than the one she’d made at eighteen.

The box of gear from the first trip was still sitting out. Emily gave up on her list and sat on the floor, pulling out the backpack. She looked at it and the hiking boots. Both had useful magical properties in the Sidhe. The bag held an infinite amount without being heavy, though the infinite part was more a guesstimate.

She scowled at the boots. She still wasn’t certain if it was her Folk nature or the boots that helped her walk long distances with ease—during the beginning of her journey at least. By the end of it she could have been wandering barefoot for months and not really cared, beyond being bored.

With a shrug, she pulled out the boots and set them aside with the pack. Tanis was fully human and would need any magical help she could get, even if she was a secret meathead jock.

Emily grabbed the clothes from the sprite village as she stood up. She tried them on the bathroom, wishing she owned a full-length mirror. They still fit, and they still made her feel equally cool and stupid.

“Well, it’s comfortable at least.” Emily muttered at her reflection, before changing back into regular clothes.

Snagging her aborted packing list from the counter, Emily poured cold coffee remains from the French press and went to the porch. Settling into the hammock, she picked up a pack of cigarettes from the side table and shook it. With a scowl, she peeked inside, finding only tobacco crumbs. With a sigh, she levered herself back out of the hammock and padded to the kitchen, grabbing a fresh pack from the freezer. Before closing the door, she changed her mind, throwing the box back in with the ice cream and pulling out a leather pouch, stiff with cold.

Back in the hammock, Emily struggled to remember how to roll a cigarette. She had a painful flash of memory that blurred her vision. She’d learned how to roll a cigarette in the same hammock, from Becky.

The finished cigarette was ugly, but smokeable. Emily made a face at the waves of nostalgia and attacked her list. Memories, fear and time weren’t going to throw her. She had to look at it as not a second chance at a quest, but a fresh opportunity. She was going to do it with Tanis and they were going to do it right.

---

This post is part of The Consoling Divide – Serialised. See the archive and overall content warnings here, and find more of my writing here. I’m over on both Comradery and Patreon, if you feel like supporting my creative endeavours. If you’d like to subscribe to this story, here’s a handy email box for you:

Tanis took them back to the court. There was no sign of Ian or Michael, but one of them had put her empty sandwich plate in the kitchen sink. Emily went to the coat closet and took down a large plastic storage box.

“This is the stuff I took with me.” She pulled out a backpack, an old Polaroid camera, hiking boots and a sheathed knife. “There were extra clothes too, and a bag of energy bars. The food kept replenishing itself but that didn’t matter after a while.”

“Why?” Tanis sat next to Emily on the raised living room floor.

“Folk don’t need to eat, or sleep, or any of that bodily maintenance stuff.”

“And you’re Folk?”

“Yep.”

“And you’re only 23?”

Emily shrugged. “In years I’ve lived, I guess.” She tried a smile. “That makes you the older one.”

“Five years younger isn’t too much. That’s what I was from you, before. What’s left?” She nudged the box with her foot.

Emily drew the box closer and drew out a tunic of sturdy homespun fabric. “What I wore most of the time I was in the Sidhe. There are honest-to-Moses leggings, too. Like, medieval leggings, not yoga ones. A sprite’s village gave them to me.”

Tanis touched the fabric, biting her lip. “You said you could prove all this.”

Emily stood up and walked back to her room, Tanis cautiously following. Kneeling in front of the open closet, Emily banged a spot on the inner wall. With a magnetic click, a small panel swung open and Emily pulled out a strongbox, setting it in her lap. The combination spun open easily, revealing a stack of Polaroid photos, some papers and a rubber-banded envelope of cash.

“It’s getting late, so this won’t be as impressive.” Emily handed the envelope to Tanis and perched on the bed. “The king gave me this money so I could buy Polaroid film for the hare.”

“The who?”

Emily blushed. “Right, I skipped that. Um. There is a hare, not a rabbit, who is a scientist.”

Tanis shifted from foot to foot, picking at the rubberband.

“Yeah. Anyway, the hare—”

“Does it have a name?”

“No, he doesn’t. Or, if he does, I don’t know it. Names have power, you don’t just give them out.”

“Right.”

“Anyway, the hare found that instant film works like a magic mirror and can show the true nature of things. I bought him film and cameras in exchange for allowing the kids to go freely into the Sidhe. It was sort of a government-funded project, hence the money. Count it.”

Tanis thumbed through the bills. “There’s a lot here.” She drew one out. “Oh wow, some are super old, without all the colours and whatever.”

“Yeah.”

“So, how does this prove anything?”

“Give me some.”

Tanis handed over three of the newer-looking twenties. “What, does it magically replenish itself?”

“Well. Yeah.” Emily shrugged as she folded the bills and stuck them in her hip pocket. “We figured out that it doesn’t refill until you spend what you took out. So, okay, count what is left and stay here. I’ll go and spend this at the corner store, or something. When I come back, you count it again.”

Tanis’ eyes went big as she counted the money. She nodded and Emily left.

***

Emily felt stupid spending sixty dollars on convenience store food. Even with the inflated prices of ‘convenience,’ it was still what felt like a very silly amount of snacks. Full bags knocked against her legs as she pushed open her front door.

Tanis sat on the couch, looking through the strong box. She had a pile of letters next to her, written in Emily’s cramped teenage print. She looked up from the photograph she was holding with wet eyes, her freckled nose red and running.

Emily started unloading the bags onto the kitchen island. “I hope you feel like chips and dip. Also, weird candy.”

“I read the letters to your aunt.” Tanis sniffed.

“I figured you would.” Emily wrinkled her nose at a particularly garish bag of chips and shrugged. “Did you count the money?”

Tanis shook her head, then hunched over the envelope. “There’s more, but not quite what was there before.”

“Oh.” Emily dug into her pocket and pulled out some rumpled bills and coins. “I couldn’t spend it all.” She walked over, opening the chips with her teeth, and handed Tanis the change. “If you put it back in there, it’ll all be twenties again later.”

As she closed the envelope, Tanis stared into the middle distance. Emily took it from her hands, slipping the rubber band back on. She put everything back in the strong box and moved it to the coffee table.

Sitting next to Tanis, with room between, Emily tried one of the chips.

“Oh, that is gross.” She looked at the bag. “It’s like barbecued feet.” Emily felt like she was floating, all the things she’d been protecting were open, their bellies exposed, and here she was struggling to finish chewing something very stupid. The two sat on the couch in silence and Emily mindlessly ate another chip. She made a strangled noise and angrily set the bag as far away as she could.

Tanis snickered, tears beginning to spill freely down her face. “Dude.” Her laughter grew.

“Shut up.” Emily’s eyes filled as she started giggling.

They leaned against each other as they both broke into a giddiness that cycled between laughter and tears.

***

They stayed up late, Tanis asking Emily for more and more detail about the Sidhe. They tried each of the junk foods Emily had picked up, deciding that most of them would probably be better appreciated by Ian, Michael, or a trash can.

Emily showed Tanis the engraving on her knife, carefully leaving most of the blade sheathed. “I had to look up how to clean the blood off of it. Did you know you have to remember to oil it regularly, even when it’s in storage?”

“It doesn’t still turn into a sword when you pull it out all the way?” Tanis was cuddled under a knobby crocheted blanket.

“No, it just happened the once on this side, when I confronted all the adults. I think the context has to be right for magic to work in the mundane world.”

“Like the money.” Tanis threw a side glance at the envelope. They’d checked it earlier, the change had gone and all the bills twenties again. “You’ve never had problems with the serial numbers? It’s real money?”

“As far as we can tell. While we were first figuring everything out, we used it more often. Nobody found leaves or blank paper in their cash drawers.”

“Leaves?”

“It’s a fairy trick. Like, a glamour? But this stuff isn’t. It’s cold, hard, cash. My theory is that as long as I keep buying the hare film and cameras with it, it’ll keep refilling itself.”

Emily got up and started making coffee.

“What are you doing, it’s like, midnight.”

“Are you sleepy?”

“No.”

“Then, coffee.” Emily watched the kettle as it slowly built up a rumble.

Tanis looked at the photographs again. Most showed the glowing aura that identified the Folk, or magic items. Tanis had given up finding some sign that it was camera tricks or costumes. The people with bird feet had actual bird feet.

Emily had taken a photograph of each of the kids when they first entered the Sidhe, then again when she felt they had figured their Folk backgrounds out. The second image always looked like a double exposure, the fairy nature superimposed over each teenage face.

“Okay, Abby is a tree-person, a dryad.” Tanis rumpled her short hair, frowning. “Matty is a mer-person, Tank and Dawn are sprites, Michael is an elf, and Ian is a what?”

“An ogre.” Emily poured steaming water over coffee grounds. “So is Hannah, to her endless disgust.”

“What are you?”

“I don’t know. I couldn’t find out who my parents were and knowing what kind of Folk you are is the key to unlocking all that stuff.” She shrugged. “I don’t like the Sidhe, so I don’t really care. Magic items work for me, that’s all I need.”

Emily brought the cups over to the coffee table and Tanis slipped coasters under them just before they touched the wood.

“So, what are you going to do about Abby?”

Emily sighed. “Go in and find out what’s going on. If I have to, I’ll do it with nobody sitting watch and not come back until I’ve found her.”

“And you could disappear for decades.”

“Or hours, or a century.”

“You can’t do that.” Tanis frowned, her grimness offset by the bright and ugly blanket she’d wrapped around her. “You have responsibilities.”

“I plan on giving my two weeks at the cafe, I’m not a dick.”

“Not just work, god-dammit.” Tanis playfully punched Emily’s arm, but hard enough to sting. “Me.”

Emily deflated into the couch, hands on her face. “I know. The other kids are, as Michael so bluntly informed me yesterday, fine without me. But I don’t want to leave you.”

“And what about your life?”

She peered at Tanis through her fingers. “What life?” Emily barked a laugh. “I have you, I have the kids, who are now adults. I read sometimes. I listen to music. But that’s it.”

“Dammit, Emily.” Tanis blew angrily on her coffee to cool it. She grimaced quietly at Emily through most of the cup and fell asleep soon after finishing it.

Emily stood, finishing her second cup of coffee, and looked at her girlfriend asleep on the couch, her round face finally relaxed into some sort of peace. Tanis didn’t have work the next day so Emily decided against waking her. She briefly considered carrying her to bed, but decided that would end badly. Tanis was the athletic one. With a shrug, Emily tidied the living room and fell into bed to catch a few hours of sleep before opening the coffee shop.

---

This post is part of The Consoling Divide – Serialised. See the archive and overall content warnings here, and find more of my writing here. I’m over on both Comradery and Patreon, if you feel like supporting my creative endeavours. If you’d like to subscribe to this story, here’s a handy email box for you: