Page 8 of Prince of the Northwest Forest
When he gets to a sharp bend in the trail, he turns around and gazes at me over his shoulder. Dammit. He caught me watching him. I curl my toes in my boots and feel my ears heat.
Keep going. You’re on a mission. Don’t get distracted by strange hot men in the woods.
He shakes himself, then faces forward and continues out of sight. I keep going up the hill, my pulse increasing with the elevation.
At the top, all of Princedelphia is spread out before me. We’re on the northernmost coast of Oregon, where the river meets the ocean. A bridge connects us to Washington. The town butts up against the woods and slopes gently down to the sea. Cute, pastel Victorian houses line the streets.
I turn and walk a few steps to take in the view of Mount Pátu. Steam vents from the sides of the volcano, visible even from this far away.
Is it going to erupt? We’re still reeling from the last event. The Mount Saint Helens eruption wasn’t that long ago, either. That volcano is farther away from us, but not by much.
I shiver. I hope the portal to the Fae Realm isn’t on a volcano. I’d rather not get up close and personal with lava. Will I have to?
I scrub my face with my hand and take a sip from the water bottle I carry in my day pack.
Keep going.
While I still want to turn around and go find that knight, my feet get moving.
Ten minutes later, I encounter a middle-aged couple, each holding those high-tech telescoping hiking sticks and wearing performance fleece. Clearly locals, then.
“Where are you guys coming from?” I ask, a bright smile on my face.
“Tassiya Meadows,” the man says.
“What’s it like? I was thinking of going there.”
The woman nods. “It was so pretty. You can even see some wildflowers. But I’d avoid it today. I think there might be something funny going on.”
“Oh? How so?” I ask, my breath temporarily bottled up in my chest. Could it be the right place?
The man juts out his jaw and bites his lip, gazing at her.
She cuts her eyes back toward where they came from.
Finally, she says, her voice wary, “We just saw a person from the Northwest Forest, I think. Or maybe he was fae. I’m not sure.”
“Fae?” I try to control my nerves.
“Possibly. Since so many can pass as human, it can be hard to tell,” the man says. “But to be safe, we’d recommend going elsewhere. Maybe down to the river.”
“Thanks for the warning, then,” I say. “I’ll be sure to pick a different route.”
“Have a good walk,” the woman says, and we go our separate ways.
I aim exactly for where they said not to go. When I get to Tassiya Meadows, though, I find plenty of wildflowers but no fairy rings.
Dammit.
No matter what I do, I can’t seem to find my way to the fae. And if I can’t find them, I’ll never feel whole again.
Chapter Three
KALLE
That man I just passed on the trail was … familiar. Where have I seen him before?
Does he just look like someone I know? That doesn’t make sense. His looks weren’t generic. He had brown hair, brown eyes, and warm beige skin just like I do, but his features were still special. His hair was cut short, slightly longer on the top and faded on the sides, which is a common style, but on him it looked uncommonly perfect. And his eyes held curiosity and friendliness.
