Finding Elora

Chapter 12

ABBY

It takes almost thirty hours and five tense conversations with strangers, but I finally manage to find out some good information on the transportation situation.

The vehicles are in fact busses, usually with a capacity of about fifty people, and the ones from Elora will begin arriving sometime today. From there, there'll be a revolving door of arrivals and departures. One of the faeries I spoke to said things will die down once the prince begins his journey to the portal, so that means I have a few days to secure a seat on a departure bus.

I run my hand through my hair, ensuring the strands are mostly in place. Almost all the women here wear their hair down, so after rinsing it in the sink last night, I put it in a loose braid so it would be neat today.

It seems to have worked, and I haven't received too many weird looks from the faeries I've encountered. Yesterday—thanks to the drying agents in the hand soap—it was a hot mess. The strands looked dry and crinkly, and I caught a few odd looks.

It's significantly better today.

I'm praying it helps, especially since I already have enough working against me. Namely, my clothes.

They stand out here, but there's nothing I can do about it. The faeries don't wear anything similar to my leggings, nor my tank top. They mostly wear loose, neutral-colored linens—even the children.

My backpack straps rub against my shoulders as I walk through the park, following the trail that will lead me into the city. I've returned to the small bathrooms several times since arriving, usually to pee or refill my water bottle.

It's been working well for me, but the park grows busy around this time and I'm worried my repeated visits will draw attention.

I'll have to slow my water intake for the next several hours.

Three children, probably around seven or eight years old, run down the path in my direction. They scream and shove at one another with loud laughs, their movements eerily smooth. I don't remember Lill being this agile when we were children, and I can't lie and say it's not a bit freaky.

If this is how athletic faerie children are at this age, it's no wonder Lill always jokes that I'd be no match against a full-grown adult. I'm pretty sure these kids could easily kick my ass if they wanted.

I slow as the children approach, but they never break their fast strides as they maneuver around me and continue down the trail. I'm willing to bet they're racing toward the playground it leads to.

Ten seconds later, two adult women come wandering down the trail.

Seeing faeries still makes my heart race, but I'm slowly becoming accustomed to it. I'm also learning how to distinguish between them. When I first arrived, I thought everybody looked identical with their bright hair and purple eyes, but it's becoming easier to spot their individual features.

These two women, though, they look similar.

Their facial structure is almost identical, and they carry themselves in a similar manner. Even the way they've clipped their hair out of their face is the same. They have to be related. Probably sisters.

The one on the left has a young child cradled in her arms, and she chats happily to the other before turning and peering down the trail where the children disappeared. I can still hear the kids screaming behind me, but it's distance.

They've covered a lot of ground, and they're probably almost at the park by now.

My heart races as I approach the women, and when they turn to look at me, I offer a polite smile. They do the same, but I still hold my breath until I've passed them. Nobody's yet questioned what I, a human, is doing here, but I'm still painfully aware that I don't belong.