The Fairy Portal Second Edition

Chapter Ten

Since it was summer break, it was easy for Blake to convince his mom to let him and Emily stay with Grandma Florence overnight. He wanted to go home, but he needed to be around people who understood, and this was something he couldn't talk to his mom about. She'd probably take him to a psychiatrist or try to have him committed. And he couldn't get locked up, not now. He needed the outdoors, the heat of the sun, the cool breezes, the flowing water, the dappled shade of the trees. He missed Seamus, even though he'd seen him just that morning. He missed the mud on his back and the water on his feet.

The next morning, Blake woke up in the backyard with no recollection of going outside. Emily woke him up with a prod in the shoulder with her bare toes. He didn't open his eyes. The dirt and grass were damp with morning dew and they smelled so good, like home. He curled his fingers in the grass and gripped tight, like he was trying not to fall.

The mild pains in his stomach were the only reason he knew he was hungry. He had no appetite, no taste for much of anything. He just wanted to lie here in the grass, but Emily kept jabbing him with her toes.

"If you don't get up, I'll wake up Tassie," she threatened.

Blake sighed and pushed himself to his feet. His elbows and knees and the heels of his hands were stained green with crushed grass, and he finally smiled, if a little wanly.

"What are you doing out here, anyway?" Emily asked as they went inside. She opened the back door and gestured him in. He bowed slightly, and for just a half second, it was like they were little again. But only for a half second.

Blake shrugged one shoulder and headed into the kitchen. He shuffled around a little and decided on just a piece of bread with butter and honey on it.

"You're not even going to toast it?" Emily asked. Blake shrugged again.

"This is fine," he mumbled.

Tassie was still curled up on Blake's pillow when he went back into the guest room. If Grandma was up, she was still in her bedroom, so he wasn't going to bother her. He plopped down on the bed and the pillow bounced slightly. Tassie shifted, but didn't wake. Blake lay down with his face beside her and gently ran a finger over her hair. She felt different, now, less ethereal light and more flesh and bone, like a tiger, or a deer. Strong and sinewy.

She snuffled beneath his finger and pushed it away. Blake curled it back into his hand as Tassie shifted and stirred, slowly waking and stretching out.

A knock came on the door, but it opened before Blake had a chance to respond.

"Blake? Tassie?" It was Emily. Blake waved over his shoulder and let his hand flop back down to the bed. Tassie curled back up again, but didn't close her eyes, peering up at Emily in the brightness of the room.

Emily sat down behind Blake and gently rested a hand on his side.

"Talk to me," she whispered.

"About?"

"About how you feel. Can I help?"

Blake shrugged. Emily sighed and curled her fingers into his shirt.

"I want to go home," Blake said.

"We can --"

"No, I mean... I want to go home. But I'm not sure what that means anymore."

Tassie flitted up into Blake's hair and tip-toed down his shoulder, his side, over Emily's knuckles. She held her hands out like a gymnast on a balance beam, even though she was steady enough. Like it was part of a game.

"Humans say they feel like that when they've been hit by a dart. A longing to go home to place they've never seen." She turned around and bounced back over Emily's knuckles again. "I don't know the word in English. There might not be one. But we call it ffenyn. It's like a melancholy, a nostalgia, and a yearning all at once, for something familiar but that at the same time, you don't know."