The most expensive thing was actually a steak on a bun, with an egg and some sort of fancy, strongly scented, French cheese. Tanis bought two.
“Even your spite is adorable.” Emily held Tanis’ hand as they walked back to the car.
Tanis swished the to-go bag merrily. “I’m super-fierce, not adorable.”
“But of course.” Emily bowed slightly as she opened the driver-side door for her.
Tanis headed the car in the general direction of country roads. Emily wished she was allowed to smoke in the car.
“So?” Tanis poked Emily’s leg while keeping her eyes on the road.
“Okay.” Emily cleared her throat. “I’m going to start at the beginning.”
“Good place to start.”
“So, you’ll have questions and want to interrupt—” Emily met Tanis’ glance away from the road. Tanis bit her lip, chagrined. “But don’t, just let me tell it. This should answer a lot of questions you’ve been kind enough to never ask and,” Emily fiddled with the hem of her shirt. “And, there’s a strong chance you won’t believe what I say. But remember, I can prove it.”
Tanis opened her mouth, closed it, then reached for Emily’s hand, changing lanes deftly with the other. Emily took a deep breath and made herself squeeze Tanis’ hand.
“Now, I don’t know if you really believe in magic. But I’m pretty certain you probably don’t. I didn’t.” Emily pulled her hand free and tangled her fingers together, keeping her eyes on the road. Tanis had the headlights on and they cut short spaces of clear light in the first pink of early evening.
“When I was 18, the summer after I graduated high school, I very much did not believe in magic. And I got sat down and told that it not only totally existed, but that everything I knew was the result of it. You know what a chosen one is?”
Tanis nodded. “Yeah, there’s all the books now, with magic schools, or quests and things.”
“That’s what they shaped me to be. Only without the magic school or whatever. A loner with no friends and the vague feeling that there has to be something more in life. Which I guess is most teenagers, right?” Emily felt the bitterness taste of her laugh. “You know, I did have a friend once—not an acquaintance, not just someone I went to school with, but an actual friend. We shared secrets and stories and had those stupid BFF necklaces. But she moved away. And I went back to taking care of the court’s kids. That’s most of what I did. Hang out around adults, or with children too young to ever be my friends.
“Anyway, apparently, I was a chosen one and I was supposed to pack my bag and journey into the Sidhe to win back the place of all the adults, who’d been kicked out years before. They held a party and gave me presents to help with the quest. Most of the gifts ended up turning magic in the Sidhe. Becky gave me a Bowie knife that turned into a shortsword.”
“Is she the one in that picture?” Tanis’ voice was very small.
“Yeah. She was my aunt’s friend. The knife was engraved with the word ‘Luck’.” Emily stared out the window. Tanis let her be, driving past fields lit up with sunset.
Emily shook her head. “So, I go into the Sidhe and there were adventures, I guess.” Her voice trailed off again and she focused hard on the fields and forest rolling past, throat burning with tears she’d been blinking back so long they barely reached her eyes any more. She cleared her throat and continued.
“But, I finally get to talk to the king and he agrees to let everyone come back, if I do him a favour. All I have to do is to kill his wife.
“After thinking about it, I said yes.” Emily’s voice carried on like a chant. “Because I couldn’t fail. I was the product of eighteen years of manipulation and not completing the quest wasn’t an option. So, I stood, sword in my hand, ready to murder the queen.
“That woman looked me in the eyes and smiled while she told me that the people I was doing this for were traitors who’d killed my parents and tricked my aunt. Then I cut off her head. I did it for the kids, in the end. Their parents didn’t matter. The kids had been manipulated, same as me, they were only conceived to keep me bound.
Tanis pulled into the parking lot of a closed diner that lay under the deepening shadows of the forest surrounding it. When Emily was a teenager they’d had amazing milkshakes, but the building had been shuttered so long the newspaper covering the insides of the windows had faded almost to white.
“You’re supposed to keep driving.” Emily stared down at her hands, feeling Tanis’ eyes on her like an itch.
“I don’t care. This going on drives to talk thing is weird anyway.”
“City girl.”
“Don’t defuse this with humour, finish.”
Emily shook her head, but started talking again. “So, with the queen dead, I made my way back home. I couldn’t figure out how to do it at first, but I finally ended up on my aunt’s doorstep. It turned out I’d been gone ten years.
“The world was different; the kids were all in their teens and everyone figured I was dead. I had to face all the people who sent me, tell them what I knew and bully them into providing for the children they’d happily planned to abandon.” She took a deep breath, letting it out with a sigh. “And so, I ended up the legal guardian of seven kids still in school.
“We didn’t have to worry about money and they were happy to see me again, to find out the truth—but they were all basically my age. I had to pretend to the world that I’d lived a decade more than I had and play parent to people I wanted to consider my equals.
“It sucked. It sucked to know the most intimate details of their childhoods. It sucked to make them visit the Sidhe so they could find out who they really were, who and what they could be. Some of them hated it.”
“That explains Matty.” Tanis carefully held Emily’s hand, as though it might shatter.
“Abby loved it. When she was 19 she moved to the Sidhe for good. Her parents were dryads and the philosophy of the forests was such perfect match for her. She was so super idealistic, but over the years that’s solidified into something more joyous and mature. I’ve lost track of how many years have passed for her in there, but she still looks 19 when she’s in human form. Folk don’t really age there.
“Time is different in the Sidhe. A week goes by here, a month speeds past there. Less often, hours here are days there. You can’t predict it, there’s no pattern. But no matter what, we got regular mail from Abby, until now.”
“How long has it been?”
“A year. She hasn’t been heard from in a year, her time.” Emily scrubbed her eyes with the back of her hand. “That’s about it. You can ask questions now.”
Tanis started the car and headed back into town. She rolled all the windows down. “You can have a cigarette. But don’t think every time you unfold some huge, unbelievable, secret of your life to me you get to smoke in the car.” She gave Emily a half-smile and Emily burst into tears.
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: