I spot a long row of what looks like berry bushes about a hundred yards away, but it’s surrounded by open land and in direct view of the house. I’d love to steal some, but I’d most definitely get caught.
I turn off my flashlight and shove it into my bag before slowly stepping outside. I don’t see or hear anybody, and I keep close to the barn as I slink around the side closest to the grouping of trees I ran through last night.
There’s an open plot of land between the barn and the trees, which didn’t feel as dangerous to cross last night as it does in the morning light, and I pray I don’t get caught as I take off in a sprint across it.
I don’t think my legs have ever moved as quickly as they do now, and my breath comes out in loud pants as I slam my body into the nearest tree and hide behind the trunk. I’ve never been a thrill seeker, and the adrenaline coursing through my body does not feel good.
In fact, it feels the opposite of good. I’m petrified I’m going to get arrested for trespassing, and I really don’t want to learn what faerie prison is like.
I make one last dash to the road, and I continue running until the house is entirely out of sight behind me. I should’ve taken that man up on his offer for a ride. I’m not sure why I didn’t.
The sun gradually rises, and only once it’s entirely crested over the horizon do I remove my sweatshirt and treat myself to a breakfast of nuts and jerky. I didn’t anticipate this much physical labor, and I’m beginning to grow worried I’ll run out of food.
My water bottle is already empty. Well, mostly. There are a sad few drops remaining, but I’m waiting until I’m truly desperate to drink them. Dehydration is a painful way to go, and I want to drag out my remaining water for as long as possible.
As long as I keep my sweating to a minimum, I hope I’ll be okay.
My hips and thighs are sore from yesterday’s walking, but if I play my cards right, I should be in Farbay by the end of the day. It didn’t look too far on the map, and I’m trying to remain optimistic. It’s all I have.
I’m ready to plan my course of action for getting into the forest, but I figure it’s best to wait until I have a better idea of what this wall Samuel spoke of looks like. Is it a literal wall or more of a symbolic thing?
Now that I’ve had time to think and absorb all the recent knowledge that’s been shoved into my brain, I regret not asking. There was just so much being thrown at me. Prying into details about the wall was just one of the many things that slipped through the cracks.
The air grows warm as the sun rises, and I begin sweating. It’s not good for my water and potential dehydration situation, but it’s not like I can do anything to stop it. I try to stick to whatever side of the road has the most shade, but there are long stretches with none. It’s not ideal.
I cringe when I finally duck into a small, wooded area to relieve myself and see just how yellow my pee is. I feel all right, but the color isn’t a good sign of things to come. There’s nothing I can do about it now, though. I finish the last remaining sips of my water and eat some nuts before continuing.
Every muscle in my body gradually grows achy, even worse than yesterday, but I push through. This is beyond exhausting, but whenever I feel like lying down and accepting death, I remind myself that I’m doing this for Lill.
She’ll die without delysum, and I’ll be damned if I let that happen. I’d do anything for her, even entering a magic realm few humans know exists and hunting down the one item she needs to survive. I’d do it a thousand times over if I needed to.
If all goes well, we can make this a yearly trip. She opens a portal, preferably one closer to the Redstall Forest, and I sneak in and collect some harvested delysum. Maybe I’ll even find a mate.
I like the idea of some guy being magically chosen as my perfect match. The fact that Samuel even wanted to touch me means it can happen between faeries and humans. Plus, if some guy is destined to be obsessed with me, he’ll probably be willing to help Lill. He could keep her stocked up on tea. It’d be a win-win.
I finally arrive in Farbay just as the sun begins setting. This town looks nearly identical to Callonton, with cobblestone roads, narrow streets with ground-level shops, and beautiful, green vines lining several buildings.
The streets are full of faeries, and I do my best to avoid them as I wander through the city. I’m paranoid about my messy appearance, worried it will draw unwanted attention, as I search for a public bathroom or somewhere that looks like I can sleep for the night.
I’ll figure out the forest and wall situation tomorrow morning.
After almost an hour of wandering, I find a reasonably large public park, and I beeline straight for the small standalone building in the center of it. It’s either a public bathroom or a community building, and I could practically cry tears of joy when I spot a woman and young child exiting through one of the side doors.
The young girl has wet hands, and she wipes them on her beige, linen dress as she follows the adult woman down a worn path. She clearly just washed them, so this must be a bathroom.
My pace falters as I look at the young girl, though. Her long, white hair and vibrant, violet eyes bring back thousands ofmemories of a young Lill, who looked exactly like her. That was back when Lill was healthy, though.
The woman doesn’t seem to notice me as she leads the child toward a large, black horse tied to a wooden pole several hundred feet away, and I wait until they’re a good distance from the bathroom before hurrying inside.
To my complete relief, it’s a single-person bathroom, and I lock the door before ripping off my gloves and sagging against the wall. This is arguably the cleanest public bathroom I’ve ever been inside, but I’m too exhausted to admire it.
Besides, I’m not that surprised. I’m quickly learning that the faerie realm is significantly cleaner than the human one.
I double-check that the door is locked before dropping my bag onto the ground and stripping naked. There’s a sink along the far wall, one I fully intend to use to clean myself with.
My hands shake as I peer into the mirror above the sink, and I cringe as I get a good look at myself. I look like I’ve spent two days and two nights out in the wilderness, and it’s far from flattering. The ponytail I put my hair in this morning is loose and floppy, and it’s clear the strands haven’t seen a brush in a while.
My skin is covered in dust from having walked along the road for so long, too.