It doesn’t seem real.
Chapter Five
ABBY
LILL HUNCHES FORWARD, planting her hands on her knees as she struggles to catch her breath. She looks exhausted, and she sways back and forth as she peers through the portal she’s just opened.
I watch her every movement, needing to make sure she’s okay, before shifting my attention to the portal. To the faerie realm.
It’s beautiful.
The window reveals a giant prairie, one so beautiful and large, it stretches as far as the eye can see. Thick, waist-length grass sways in soft, rhythmic movements, and I can practicallyfeelthe warm, summer breeze.
“Wow,” is all I manage to say.
Lill nods. “Yeah.”
This would never exist in the human realm. People would flock to it, and it would be destroyed within days. The lush, green grass would be trampled into the dirt, and it would be so full of tourists, it would be impossible to enjoy. That’s assuming they don’t bulldoze the entire area and replace it with an unused parking lot.
Lill is distracted, and I swallow past the lump in my throat as I stand and slip my backpack over my shoulders. I don’t knowhow long she can keep the portal open, and I need to get through before it shuts.
“The air looks different,” I say.
It truly does. The sunlight reflects off what looks like dust, little golden specks that glisten and float through the air. It’s everywhere.
“That’s magic,” Lill says. She grows quiet. “I never thought I’d see it again.”
I hum, staring at the back of her head.
It’s now or never.
Lill has no idea what’s happening, and I don’t stick around to see her reaction as I brush past her and jump headfirst into the portal. A small part of me is terrified it’s not going to work and I’m going to land face-first on our TV stand, but I can tell that’s not going to happen the second my body crosses the threshold of the portal.
There’s a brief moment of weightlessness, like my entire body is floating, before I crash into the faerie realm in an uncoordinated heap. The tall grasses I was just admiring brush against my skin before I land, and I grimace as I get a mouthful of dirt.
It hurts, but the pain hardly registers as I scramble to my feet and break into a sprint, desperate to put distance between me and the portal. I’m not sure how long Lill can hold it open or if she’ll jump in behind me and drag me out, but I’m not going to stick around and find out.
I run for about thirty seconds before peering over my shoulder to see what’s happening with Lill and the portal. Lill’s slow in her weakened state, so even if she is coming after me, I’ve got a good head start. She’s not behind me when I turn, though.
There’s only prairie. The portal is gone, vanished as if it had never been there.
I stumble back a few steps, finally allowing myself to take in my surroundings. The shimmering magic I noticed earlier is amplified, so thick in the air, it’s borderline distracting. I run my fingers through it, but it doesn’t feel like anything.
I can’t believe I’m here.
My palms are scraped up from the fall, but I ignore the slight sting as I brush my fingers through the tall grass. I’ve got bandages and antibiotic ointment in my bag, but I’m not going to use it for minor injuries. I need to save my supplies for real emergencies.
The grass is softer than expected, and the texture is similar to that of a flower petal. I can’t help but smile as I peer up at the cloud-covered sun. It’s no wonder Lill was missing this place. Something about it feels ethereal, too good to be true.
It’s a comfortable temperature, warm but not so much to cause discomfort. I pull off my sweatshirt and shove it into my bag, still in disbelief that I’m actually here. I had low confidence in my plan, even in the seconds leading up to Lill finally opening the portal.
I’ve never been able to convince her in the twenty years we’ve known one another, and I had no reason to believe this time would be any different. I’m sure not going to complain, though.
In my packed bag is an insulated water bottle and about fifty hydration packets. I wasn’t sure what environment I’d be faced with, but I’m glad I came prepared. Well, mostly. I would’ve packed more water had I known Lill would drop me off in the middle of nowhere.
The prairie stretches as far as the eye can see in every direction, and it doesn’t look cultivated or managed. There’s a manmade—faemade is probably the more accurate term here—structure far off in the distance, maybe a tiny cabin of sorts, but I can’t tell from where I stand.
I spin around, checking one last time that there’s nothing of interest surrounding me, before pulling my sneakers out of my bag. I bought a new pair for the trip, and I hope the high price equals good quality. I almost went with hiking boots, but sneakers seemed the better option. I’m glad I went with it.