Chapter 8

The space was, in a word, abstract. Like some kind of wonderland. Rosy pink grass rose up to her waist, tickling her fingers. Trees were her only company, tall and majestic, with bark the colour of emeralds. Their leaves glowed like embers.

The sky held more stars than she’d ever seen, in foreign constellations that floated lazily through the sky, occasionally overlapping. When they did, they sang, in a low tone that gave Cami chills.

“Where are we?” Cami breathed, looking around.

And that was when she realized the other girls were gone. She was all alone.

“You’ve never really been alone, Cami.”

Trintio’s voice. Like before, it came from everywhere at once, rattling around the inside of her skull.

“What does that mean?”

He just laughed, a low chuckle that stirred the grass like a gentle breeze.

“You’ll find out in due time,” he told her, in a voice softened by what was either assurance or warning. Cami had never been the best with discerning tone, but this man was agonizingly ambiguous. “For now, you should go back to your friends. Don’t want to worry them, after all.”

And before Cami could ask what that meant, she was on the floor of her living room. Her mother and Jane’s faces loomed over her, wearing identical masks of shock.

“I think she’s coming to,” Jane said, leaning in closer. Cami flinched away: even with Jane, personal space was a dicey matter. Jane laughed. “Yeah, no, she’s definitely coming to.”

“Oh, Camilla,” her mother whispered. Her voice had a rasp to it, as if she’d been crying. Her trembling hands were wrapped around Cami’s own. “We were just about to call an ambulance. You fainted out there.”

Cami blinked. So, she hadn’t been transported to some kind of mysterious alien world. Not physically, at least. “What happened to Trintio?”

“Who cares?” Jane cut in. “He must’ve left when we brought you here, but again, that’s not what matters. Are you okay? Dizzy or anything?”

Cami shook her head. Truth be told, she felt fine. As if she’d been laying there of her own volition and just so happened to have passed out. There was no dizziness, no pain, not even lingering grogginess.

“I’m alright,” she insisted. “Seriously.”

“You literally fainted.”

“Sure, but I’m fine now.”

As Cami rose to her feet, her mother and Jane stayed on the floor, stunned silent. Cami almost heard the gears in their heads turning, a chorus of the same question: should we still be worried?

Before she could assure them yet again, her phone buzzed. She took it from her pocket--which was there, after all--where a notification glowed: there was an email from Cassidy, under her Student Council account. That couldn’t be good.

“Should we call an ambulance now?” Rachel spoke up, wringing her hands together. She and the other girls were sat on the couch, in a huddle. “Because you just turned really pale.” The others had picked up their own nervous tics: Helena fiddled with her hair, Olivia checked her phone every two seconds.

Cami shook her head. “It’s just a message from Student Council. No biggie.” She strained to keep her face neutral. "I'm gonna go check it out. You know, alone, in case it's... serious classified club exec stuff."

So much for feeling fine. As she meandered to the kitchen, her legs trembled like they could give way any second. With equally shaky hands, she opened the email.

Camilla Wilde,

I received a call earlier today from a man in a certain local park describing a very strange situation. He says four teenage girls wandered in, looking to disturb the site where Abigail Burton’s body had been discovered. He stated one of the girls collapsed, presumably of exhaustion.

I don’t know why he called us in particular, but I have reason to believe you have something to do with this situation.

I’m emailing you today because, at risk of sounding blunt, this puts your club in jeopardy of closure. Your grades barely reach those required of a club president, and as a club must last a semester before being able to switch in leadership, if you can’t bring them up in the coming weeks, “Freakspotters” will be forced to dissolve.

Also, you broke the one request I made to you: not meddling in the Burton case. For your sake and mine, please keep a wide berth. Someone could get hurt.

I hope we don’t have to discuss this again.

Cordially,

Cassidy Black.

“Well?” Jane asked, leaning in the doorway. She knew not to get any closer until the situation had been assessed. “What’s the verdict?”

Cami switched her phone off and, in the calmest voice she could muster, said “I’m going to make dinner.”

~

Dinner ended up, somehow, burned in some places but undercooked in others. No one held it against her. After all, she had passed out in the middle of the woods inexplicably.

As soon as Jane and the others had left, her mother turned to her and said, “I’m calling the doctor tomorrow. Just in case.”

Cami rolled her eyes, but knew this had been inevitable. “Alright. Does that mean an appointment of some kind?”

“Probably.”

“As long as it doesn’t get in the way of my routine.”

“Mhm.”

She sensed the conversation had ended. “I’m gonna do some homework,” she lied. It was an excuse to leave the room. Her true plans for the evening--rewatch her favourite UFO documentary and reorganize her closet--were a bit less socially acceptable. Of course, when she eventually dozed off, she’d wake up bright-eyed and ready to do her homework in the morning.

That was what she’d always told herself. It had yet to come true, but maybe this would be her lucky night.

~

Some hours of sorting and folding and hanging later, Cami drifted off into a restless sleep.

And for better or worse, she dreamed. She dreamed that she was back in that strange, beautiful, but decidedly alien place.

Except she’d found herself in a different part of it. A field, with no trees to shield her from the sheer grandness of it all. She could see the stars clearly, more than the sky back home had ever held. They came in every hue, like gemstones, still singing their low, soothing song.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

Cami whirled around to see Trintio, smiling at her. This time, his voice actually came from his mouth. It was higher, too, and decidedly more human-sounding. For some reason, it put Cami at ease. She almost forgot about that time he’d knocked her out in the woods.

“What is this place?” she asked.

Trintio shrugged. As he did it, something flickered behind him: a pair of wings. They were long and sleek, like that of a dragonfly’s, but they held and reflected colour like stained glass. Without his robes, they were spread wide in all their bizarre glory. Now, he donned a knee-length, short-sleeved tunic in deep, iridescent hues.

“It’s not really a place,” he admitted. He bent down, touching a hand to the soil. As he brought it up, a flower rose to follow, like a marionette on strings. “More a pocket in spacetime. One of many we call home.”

Cami nodded, like this made perfect sense. And to be fair, it did, for some strange little part of her. “So, you’re interdimensional aliens.”

“I resent that term,” Trintio said with a scowl. “We’ve been here as long as humanity, if not longer. We were chased off, but we’re coming back. They won a vital battle, sure, but we’re not done with the war.” He rose again, towering over her. He was a pillar of a man--assuming he was a man at all.

“The war?” Cami echoed. “Okay, so you’re like… a sister species to humans? Proto-humans?” Her mind was struggling to keep up, racing through every clue and conspiracy she’d picked up as a kid. One of them had to be linked to this, right?

As Cami wracked her brain for some kind of connection, Trintio looked down at her, snickering. “We’ve had many names over the years, but for simplicity’s sake, we’re the Fey. Now, how do you feel about a change of scenery? Because you’re looking quite overwhelmed.”

And sure, that was true. Cami was overwhelmed. But she didn’t want to leave. This place, whatever it was, some alien planet or some kind of fairyland, it scratched an oddly specific itch in her brain. The endless sky, the spectrums in its constellations… it wasn’t her home, but it was something deeper. Something more… resonant.

She felt it was the only reason she was still sane.

“Can we stay?” she asked. It came out quieter than she’d wanted it to. Shakier. “Please?”

He chuckled. “Fine. Just so you know, I was hoping you wouldn’t object. I had this whole plan where you sleepwalked into the woods and woke up feeling like shit.”

And despite it all, Cami laughed with him. “You can swear?”

“I’m a fairy, not a prude. Do you have any smarter questions?”

And for once, she did. “What do you know about Abigail Burton?” It felt improper, just asking such a thing out loud. But it couldn't be a coincidence, could it? Two strange, supernatural things happening at once.

Trintio’s eyes lit up. Literally lit up, like twin candles. “You know, it would make more sense for me to ask you that question.” He sauntered closer, and Cami found herself glued to the earth. “After all, you were there. You threw that party.”

Cami groaned. Even the supernatural being haunting her dreams thought she was some kind of party animal. “That’s just a dumb rumour, you know.”

“Except it isn’t.” Trintio looked up to the mosaic of stars above them. “I can’t say much about what’s going on, but as one of the Fey, I cannot lie. If I ever intentionally tell a lie, my tongue will turn to ash and my wings will become dust.

“Eesh.” Cami grimaced at the thought of it. “But okay. You can’t lie.”

“Not intentionally, no. But I can refuse to tell the whole truth on things.” He cocked his head to the side, as if curious. “For example, perhaps it’d be for the best if you don’t know about the party quite yet. After all, that you was an entirely different person.”

He said it so matter-of-factly, like it was some childish riddle. As far as Cami was concerned, it could’ve been. After all, truth didn’t always mean honesty. He could be talking about anything from Cami having an alien clone to her having a dark, Hyde-like alter ego that thrived on parties and similar vices.

The thought made her stomach turn. She changed the subject. “It was you who called Cassidy, wasn’t it? Why?”

Trintio twirled a lock of shiny white hair around his finger. It made a sound like a singing bowl. “You’ll thank me later.”

“Yeah, thanks for nearly destroying my club!” Cami retorted. “That’s all you’re doing, you know.”

“It’s part of the plan,” Trintio insisted, his eyes drifting somewhere past her. There was an almost pleading tone to his voice, one that took Cami by surprise. “I vow this much: you will stay safe as long as I am here and watching. Rest assured, Camilla: fey vows aren’t to be trifled with.”

He said it all with such fervour. It reminded Cami of Jane practicing her monologues last semester. Still, she wouldn’t be swayed. “So, making me pass out in the middle of the woods was for my protection?”

“In a way.” His gaze flickered to something beyond her, to the woods that surrounded them. “You should wake up now. Before we both get into trouble.”

That was all it took. Cami blinked, and she was back in her bedroom, cocooned in her sheets.

A cool breeze tickled her skin, and she shuddered. She could’ve sworn she’d closed her window before bed, but now it was wide open, like a gaping maw.

“This better not be my new normal,” she muttered.