“Wake up.” His voice filtered down her subconscious and pulled her free of a dream. Its fleeting images dissolved like sandcastles under siege and she blinked her eyes open.
“If the dirt begins to feel as comfortable as my own bed, what does it say about me?” she mumbled, her voice sticky with sleep.
“That your own bed might be uncomfortable.”
“Too early to deal with that.” She groaned and sat up, stretching her back and letting the blood flow through her limbs again. “Okay, I’m ready,” she said after a moment. “Let’s cross over to wherever.”
“To the mortal realm, in fact. We shall find an opening there to take us to the Seelie court.”
He stood towering over her, one hand outstretched to help her out and her knapsack slung over one shoulder. She clasped his fingers and let him pull her to her feet.
“No direct path?”
“None that I would dare use with you.”
“First you say I’m a lesser being and now you’re ashamed of walking around with me?” She gave him a smile, and if it was a bit forced, she thought no one would notice. “I could get offended.”
Troy’s eyes snapped to hers and her expression froze in place. His gaze pinned her, like a butterfly affixed to its exposition case, and she felt just as vulnerable. Her casual words, remnants of the mood she had fallen asleep to, sounded petty in retrospect.
“I—”
He smirked. “You are not quite suited to play that particular game either, Lily. Such tartness in your tone is unbecoming, and the display of insecurity uncalled for.”
“Is it?” And the answer mattered all of a sudden.
“Yes, on both accounts. Now, if that is all?”
“Sure, let’s go. I’m, uh, I’ll try not to react like that again.”
He nodded, not adding another word, and led the way down the riverside. They slipped through an invisible opening and found themselves back in the mortal world. A chilly draft had picked up on that side and Lily shivered, wishing for something warmer to wear. When she had prepared her luggage back in Manchester, she hadn’t thought about outdoor living, and the weather wore her down with as much enthusiasm as the worry and the lack of sleep did.
But she wouldn’t complain. She wouldn’t go back. She just trudged on, following in Troy’s footsteps as he guided her across the forest. She had no idea of where they were, or what direction they had taken—Troy followed a precise, invisible path that meandered under the canopy and took turns at unpredictable intervals, and all she could do was trust him and follow.
The situation reminded her of that first time, in his haven, desperate to find the way to the riverside. There had been endless walking back then, too. She had also been unable to pinpoint for how long she put one foot in front of the other. Then, she had counted steps to have something solid to grasp in her mind. Now, she just didn’t want to know the real distance they traveled.
“You are tired,” Troy said, breaking the silence. A bird cawed somewhere, startled by the sudden noise, and the words took a moment to register with Lily.
“Yeah,” she said. Her thoughts moved sluggishly in her head, as if they were floating in maple syrup. “Guess I didn’t sleep that great.”
His hand cupped her shoulder and the pervasive coolness of his skin invaded her. She began to shake as he guided her aside and pressed down to make her sit.
“We will rest for a moment. You may nap if you wish. We will proceed once you feel recovered.”
“We don’t have time to rest,” she said, offering token resistance to his insistent pressure.
Her legs folded without her permission and she sat down, her back propped against a tree trunk. She frowned up at Troy, who knelt in front of her.
“That wasn’t you,” she said. She didn’t ask.
“Forcing you to the floor? No, it was not. I fear it was your own doing.” The corner of his lips curled up and his eyes glinted. Lily squinted at him.
“But you find it amusing.”
“How could I not?”
She sighed, leaned her head back against the tree, and closed her eyes. “I guess you’re right. I must look like a pathetic rescuer at this point.”
She heard ruffling and a moment later Troy sat by her side, his shoulder jostling hers as he settled down.
“Sometimes,” he said, “the only way to save time is to spend a little time.”
“Meaning, I’ll be useless if I don’t get myself together now.”
“Just so. Rest for a moment, Lily.”
A shiver ran down her spine when he said her name. For a second, she thought he would command her but he didn’t. It didn’t matter. Exhaustion wore her down regardless.
When her eyes were almost closed, she heard his voice drifting down.
“To answer your previous jibe,” he said, “you will recall I mentioned a few bright, extraordinary individuals.”
She didn’t reply. But her nap proved to be more restful than the whole of the previous night had been, and when she awoke, she realized her head had slipped to rest on his shoulder.