Where the Wind Goes

Chapter 8 (Part 1) - Heartsick

A few weeks later, Oliver skipped his last class and biked across town. The ren faire was closed during weekdays, but he knew a spot where he could squirm under the fence and sneak in. The autumn leaves were just beginning to fall and the sun was still warm, so he was sweating by the time he reached the top of the hill. But as he approached the cottage, his blood ran cold.

Penny was waiting for him.

"Hey," he said, trying to sound casual. They hadn't spoken since their nighttime walk.

She eyed him wordlessly and stepped away from the window, leaving a boot print on the glass.

"Where were you today?" he asked. She'd skipped school, which wasn't unusual for her. But she was still dressed in the same clothes from the day before. It looked like she'd slept in them, or maybe hadn't slept at all. There were dark circles under her eyes.

Penny shoved her hands in her pockets and stared him down. "What difference does it make?" Her voice was thick, as if speech was heavy on her tongue.

Sometimes Penny disappeared for a few days. When she got fed up with school or her parents or life in general, she'd just walk out the front door and let the night consume her. Oliver had once tried telling her it was better to stay at his house than on some park bench. She'd told him to piss off.

"I know what you've been doing," she said.

"In general?" he asked.

She rolled her eyes. "Don't be like that. I want you to take me to Veralia."

Oh.

He averted his gaze. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Bullshit. You know exactly what I'm talking about. Veralia? Magical world." She jabbed her thumb at the cottage. "Right on the other side of that door."

"If you know then why don't you just go there yourself?" He tried to shrug past her, but she stood blocking the door

"Cut the crap. I've tried. It won't let me in."

Oliver was not a good actor, and he had no taste for lying, so there was no point in playing dumb when Penny could see right through him. "I'm not supposed to talk about it," he said. The excuse sounded weak and childish even to his own ears.

Penny smirked. "Bet I know who told you that."

"Why do you want to go to Veralia anyway?" he asked.

She quirked an eyebrow. "Why do you?"

"Because I think I can get my memory back there." And then, because he wanted to keep talking, he asked, "Do you know who Iris is?"

"Oh boy, you're in deep. Tell me."

And he did. For the first time in a long time, words came to him easily. He told her everything that had happened, from the sandstorms to the city. As he spoke, Penny nodded along, chewing on the nubs of her fingernails.

When he was finished, she watched him in a way that made the world fall silent around them.

"Alright." She stepped aside. "Go ahead."

He reached for the door, but as he did Penny grabbed him by the hand and pulled him against her. She kissed him. The force of it caught him of guard, and they stumbled against the door.

Her breath was hot against his ear as she whispered, "You won't regret letting me in. I've never wanted anything more."

There was a logical part of Oliver's brain that knew it would be a terrible idea to break one of Artemis' rules. But that part of his brain had been melted by the lingering taste of cinnamon gum on his lips. Smart, logical Oliver had checked out. And dumb, heartsick Oliver wanted nothing more than to open that door.

Heart racing, he turned the doorknob, and Penny twisted her hand up in his shirt, pulling him forward with a flirty giggle.

But then Artemis' voice, of all things, flooded his drunken thoughts. Never allow another human into Veralia. All the possibilities of the conjurer's ambiguous threat danced before his eyes, and in a moment of sheer confusion and fear, he roughly pulled back. He caught just a glimpse of Penny's expression before the door slammed shut between them. She didn't look surprised or disappointed. If anything, she looked triumphant.

A moment passed. Then another. Slowly, the cold reality that Penny had tricked him set in. Penny knew about Veralia- this one thing he'd wanted to keep for himself, and she'd used him to get there. The wind stirred the leaves while Oliver stood there, staring at the dusty door and feeling like an idiot.

A/N: Part 2 will be posted soon!