Page 32 of The Cursed Kingdom

Sighing, I pull a piece of hay out of my hair.Gross.

I turn on the sink and refill my water bottle, desperate to drink. I make sure to pour in one of my hydration packets, and I down the contents of my bottle before refilling it again.

Only once I’m pretty sure my stomach is going to explode do I begin washing myself.

I adjust the water temperature, turning it warm, before pulling a washrag out of my bag. It’s comically tiny, but it’ll do the job. I didn’t think to pack body wash, a massive oversight, but thankfully there’s a container of individually wrapped soaps on the sink. I’m surprised to see something like this in a publicbathroom, but I’m assuming the faeries don’t have the same issues with stealing as humans.

I grab one of the soaps, not hesitating to rip off and throw away the paper wrapping. If this soap is enough for my hands, it’s good enough for my face and body.

I take my time washing myself, careful to scrub every nasty crease and crevice. The faeries are so poised and elegant, and a dirty, smelly human wandering around is sure to draw attention. Attention I’m not looking to draw.

I continue drinking my water, careful to always pour in a hydration packet. I did a fair bit of sweating today, and I need to reenergize my body.

I get to work cleaning my dirty underwear next, washing the pair I shoved into my bag last night before doing the pair I’m wearing now. It feels good to scrub them, and myself, and I hang the fabric over my bag to dry before cleaning the rest of my clothing and using my finger to brush my teeth the best I can.

This is just what I needed, and I slide a pair of fresh underwear and my newly washed leggings up my legs with a victorious smile. I’m soaking wet and cold, but I’ve never felt better.

I emerge from the bathroom feeling victorious, and I adjust my gloves as I begin exploring. There’s only so much time left in the day, and I’d like to familiarize myself with the city. My real work starts tomorrow, and I hope to start on the best foot possible.

Chapter Twelve

ABBY

I’M BEGINNING TO fear my back may never recover from this trip.

I sit up, groaning as I rise from the park bench I slept on last night. It’s not any better than the ground, and I stretch my spine as I look around. The park remains empty, which I was hoping for. I don’t want any faeries to see me and report to the authorities that a homeless human is sleeping in the park.

I’m not sure where the faeries stand politically regarding homelessness, and I’m not looking to find out.

I run my hand through my hair, ensuring the strands are mostly in place. Almost all the women here wear their hair down and loose, and I want to fit in. I’m at enough of a disadvantage being a human, and I’m willing to take whatever win I can get my hands on.

I self-consciously pull at the ends of my sweatshirt as I rise, painfully aware that my clothing stands out here. The women all wear dresses, most of them long and flowy. My leggings and sweatshirt are a pretty drastic difference.

There’s nothing I can do about that, though. At least I have gloves.

I twist my palms around my backpack straps as I weave through the park, following the trail leading into the narrowalleys that make up the city. On the map Samuel showed me, Farbay was right on the border of the forest. The wall should be somewhere nearby.

Three children, probably around seven or eight years old, run down the path in my direction. They scream and shove at one another with loud laughter, their movements eerily smooth. I don’t remember Lill being this agile when we were young.

If this is how athletic faerie children are, it’s no wonder Lill always jokes that I’d be no match against a full-grown adult. I’m pretty sure these kids could easily kick my ass if they wanted.

I slow as the children approach, but they never break their fast strides as they maneuver around me and continue down the trail. Ten seconds later, two adult women come wandering in the same direction.

Being face-to-face with faeries still makes my heart race, but I’m slowly becoming accustomed to it. I’m also learning how to distinguish between them. When I first arrived, I thought everybody looked identical, with white hair and violet eyes, but spotting their individual features is becoming easier.

These two women, though, they look similar. Their facial structure is almost identical, and they carry themselves in a similar manner. Even the way they’ve pinned the front of their hair up is the same. They must be related. Probably sisters.

I can’t help but stare at their pointed ears. That’s new. Lill doesn’t have pointed ears, and I haven’t noticed any other faeries with them. Are there different types of faeries? I have so many questions.

The one on the left has a young child cradled in her arms, and she chats animatedly to her sister before peering down the trail where the children disappeared just seconds ago. I can still hear their loud laughter behind me, but it’s distant. They’ve covered a lot of ground.

The women and I grow closer, and I offer a polite smile as we make eye contact. They do the same, and I hold my breath until we’ve passed one another. Nobody’s gone out of their way to speak to me or ask what I’m doing in a realm in which I clearly don’t belong, and a small part of me is just waiting for it to happen.

Everybody knows I’m human, and I’m terrified somebody will take an interest in that. It takes only one inquisitive faerie to ruin my plans. I haven’t done anything wrong, but I’m pretty sure Lill, or more likely her mother, is a criminal. I’ve been thinking a lot about it, and that’s the only thing that makes sense.

The hiding, the secrecy, the absolute refusal to come here. I don’t know what the faeries would do if they learned I was associated with Lill, and I’m not going to find out.

I hurry through the park and onto the narrow, city streets.

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