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: