“Which way do you want to go?” Aunt Tillie asked.
“Which one is quickest?” Landon asked.
“The shoes.”
“We’ll take the shoes.”
“The lamp is more fun, though,” Aunt Tillie said. “It involves a magic carpet ride through the heavens before you land back home in your beds. I hear it’s to die for.”
“I don’t really care,” Landon said. “I … really? A magic carpet ride?”
Aunt Tillie nodded.
Landon glanced at me. “One more adventure couldn’t hurt, could it?”
I smirked. “I don’t think we’ll ever run out of adventures,” I said, linking my fingers with his. “I’m in for the magic carpet ride, too. I can’t think of a better way to get home.”
I BOLTED to a sitting position, my eyes searching the inky black for a hint of movement or familiarity.
I was in a bed, although the quiet didn’t offer any hints about whether or not it was my own. I instinctively reached to the other side of the mattress, almost crying when I felt the empty spot. Something moved beside me on the other side, and I felt Landon’s arm wrap around my waist. “I’m right here, Bay.”
“I … where are we?”
“Home.” He sounded sleepy.
“Did you just … ?”
“Go to sleep, sweetie,” he said, pulling me tight against him. “We’ll talk about it in the morning.”
“But … .” Did that happen? Was it real? Was it a dream?
“Come on, princess,” Landon murmured, settling me next to him and burrowing his face against my neck. “We’ll have a new adventure to grapple with in a few hours.”
Despite my uncertainty I gave in and cuddled into him. Even if this was a dream it was the best one I’d had in … well … forever.
“There’s no place like home,” I muttered.
“You’re still giving me bacon in the morning.”
A dream is a wish that hasn’t come true yet. And sometimes it’s just a bunch of crap that happened throughout the day jumbled up in a ridiculous way. Am I telling you not to dream? No. I’m telling you to dream big if you’re going to do it. And sometimes … and this is extremely rare … but sometimes they do actually come true.
– Aunt Tillie’s Wonderful World of Stories to Make Little Girls Shut Up
Twenty
I woke with a moan the next morning, every muscle in my body aching. I rolled over, groaning loudly, and found the bed empty. I pressed my eyes shut, waiting for the momentary sense of panic to wash over me. Landon wasn’t there, but for once I didn’t have even a sliver of worry.
I climbed out of bed, grabbing my robe from the floor and wrapping it around me before walking into the living room. Thistle, Marcus, Clove and Sam sat on the couch, pale faces highlighting four weary countenances and slouching shoulders.
I shifted my attention to the kitchen, smiling when I saw Landon standing behind the counter nursing a mug of coffee. Even though he usually woke up looking effortlessly handsome, there was some wear and tear on his features this morning.
His face brightened when he saw me. “Good morning, Sleeping Beauty.”
“Nice,” I said, shuffling toward the kitchen. Landon pressed a fresh mug of coffee into my hands before I even asked for it and dropped a soft kiss on my forehead.
“I’m sorry I left you in there,” he said. “I didn’t want to wake you, though, and I really needed some caffeine.”
“It’s fine,” I said. “For once it didn’t bother me.”
Landon lifted an eyebrow, contemplative. “Maybe fairy tale world was good for a few things after all.”
“Yup,” I said, resting my head against his shoulder. “I learned I’m awesome under pressure.”
As far as grins go, Landon’s was beyond charming. “You are. How do you feel this morning?”
“I hurt,” I said. “I wasn’t sure whether … you know … everything was real until I tried to move. I think climbing that beanstalk took more out of us than we realized.”
“Oh, I realized while it was happening,” Thistle said. “Why do you think I didn’t want to climb it?”
“I thought it was general laziness,” I replied, wrinkling my nose.
Thistle stuck her tongue out and blew a raspberry in my direction. “Bite me.”
“Maybe when I have more energy,” I said.
After a few moments of silence, the only sound coming from occasional sips of coffee, I lifted my head and focused on Landon. “I can’t believe you didn’t go to the inn to stop Aunt Tillie from selling her wine.”
“That seems like a futile endeavor after our adventure, doesn’t it?”
I narrowed my eyes, a reaction he apparently found cute if his smile was to be believed. “I know you,” I said. “Even though Aunt Tillie tortured and cursed us, you still wouldn’t shirk your duties. Why didn’t you run up to the inn to stop her?”
Landon cleared his throat before taking another sip of coffee. When I didn’t move my eyes from him he gave in. “I had every intention of doing it,” he said. “Until I picked up my cell phone and looked at the screen.”
“I don’t get it.”
“What day do you think it is, sweetie?”
“Saturday.”
Landon shook his head. “It’s Sunday.”
The gravity of his words washed over me. “No way.”
“Yes, way,” Thistle said, nodding her head. “We lost an entire day.”
“We lost more than a day,” Landon said. We lost a day plus eight hours. It really was the never-ending night.”
“Well, technically it was day at the top of the beanstalk,” I said.
Landon tilted his head to the side, confused. “I never really thought about that. It was definitely lighter up there, but there still wasn’t any sun. It was like being stuck in a movie studio.”
“Wow.” I rubbed the spot between my eyebrows. “Are you ticked?”
“I’m so tired I don’t even care,” Landon said. “I hope she made a killing with her stupid wine.” His stomach picked that moment to growl.
“Are you hungry?”
“Is that a trick question?”
“We should hop in the shower,” I said. “Warm water might help our muscles, and we need to get up to the inn.”
“What are we going to do up there?”
“Well, we need to check on our mothers,” I said. “Also, I believe there’s a bacon promise to fulfill.”
Landon brightened considerably. “That’s right. You’re going to put it all over your body and roll on top of me.”
“We’ll do that next weekend,” I said. “I … I also need to talk to Aunt Tillie.”
His body stiffened, but Landon’s face was unreadable. “Okay.”
“Aren’t you going to ask why?”
“Nope,” he said, draining the rest of his coffee. “I’ve learned you always have a reason for the things you do.”
“How long do you think this great understanding of one another is going to last?”
“Until the next time we tick each other off,” Landon said. “I think we have two weeks of bliss in front of us.”
“Two weeks?”
“Give or take.”
I couldn’t stifle my giggle. “You make me laugh.”
“I try. Now get moving. I feel dirty and I’m starving. Besides, you promised me a full day without any of your family. We can’t honor all of that, but we’re going to do our best and disappear for the rest of the day after breakfast.”
“I was actually thinking we could just disappear to my bed,” I suggested.
“We’re disappearing to bed,” Landon said, “but we’re going to another inn to rent one.”
“Oh, I forgot about that. Do you still want to do that?”
“That’s what’s fueling me this morning,” Landon said. “Move. Pack your clothes for the night before we go up to the inn. We’re not coming back here. Not today at least.”
“IT LOOKS q
uiet,” Thistle said, pressing her ear against the door to The Overlook. “What if they’re still trapped somewhere?”
“Then they’re going to be really ticked off,” Landon said, reaching around Thistle and turning the door handle. “Come on. I’m starving.”
“If they’re not in here, you’re not getting breakfast,” Thistle reminded him.
“Oh, I’m getting breakfast,” Landon said, wrapping his arm around my waist and lifting me off the ground so he could control our pace. “I’ve earned it.”
After slinking through the back of the house – the family living quarters was cut off from the rest of the inn except for swinging doors at either end of the kitchen – we paused again outside of the kitchen.
The quiet was worrisome. And then … there was a noise. It was slight, but there it was. Someone moved a pot off the stove. I pushed the door open and stuck my head inside, exhaling heavily when I saw my mother.
Instinct took over when I caught sight of her and I hurried over and gave her a brief hug.
“What was that for?” Mom asked, surprised.
“I was afraid something happened to you,” I admitted. “I … we … that is to say … .”
“We already know,” Mom said. “You were cursed into the fairy tale book Aunt Tillie wrote when she was forced to read to you guys when you were kids.”
“You knew and you didn’t force her to let us out?” Relief at my mother’s safety was turning to anger pretty quickly.
“We didn’t know until this morning,” Twila said, pushing Thistle’s hair back on her forehead and studying her for a moment. “You look tired.”
“I killed a wolf and rode a turtle.”
“We fought zombies,” Twila said. “Don’t even start complaining.”
“I knew it!” Clove said, pumping her fist. “I told you they were cursed into the zombie book.”
“This whole family has a weird thing about being right,” Landon said, moving away from me and heading toward the stove. He didn’t even ask before grabbing three slices of bacon. Even though Marnie gave him a dirty look, he didn’t back down. “I got turned into a monster and had to fight a giant. I’m hungry.”
“Fine,” Marnie grumbled.
“When did you get out of your book?” I asked.
“Overnight,” Mom said, her tone clipped. “We checked on you guys immediately, but you were all asleep. That’s when we found out everything that happened.”
“Is Aunt Tillie still alive?” Thistle asked.
“She is.”
“Does she still live here?”
Mom sighed, exasperated. “Of course she still lives here,” she said. “She’s family. You don’t turn your back on family.”
“Even when she puts you in mortal danger in a zombie book?” Clove pressed.
“Even then,” Mom said. “I’m glad you’re all okay, although you look exhausted.”
“It’s been a long thirty-six hours,” Landon said. “And, just so you know, as soon as we’re done with breakfast I’m taking Bay to a hotel for twenty-four hours – and I don’t want to hear one complaint about it.”
“Have fun,” Mom said.
I’d been excited to tell her about her appearance in the fairy tales when I first saw her, envisioning a loud screaming match with Aunt Tillie. She looked beaten down, though. Now definitely wasn’t the time.
“I’ll be back tomorrow,” I said.
“Take as much time as you want,” Mom said. “I think we all need some … space.”
“Oh, you guys fought the entire time you were in the zombie book, didn’t you?” Thistle asked. “I’m surprised you didn’t kill each other.”
“Let’s just say it’s been a struggle and leave it at that.”
“Wow,” Thistle said, laughing. “I thought we were grumpy until I saw you guys.”
“You were in a fairy tale book,” Marnie said. “You have no idea the horrors we saw.”
“I think we have some idea,” Landon said. “Our stories were … unique.”
Mom studied him a moment, a question on her lips, but she dismissed it. “I’m sure we can tell each other all about our adventures later. I don’t want to talk about it now.”
“I don’t blame you,” I said, patting her shoulder. “Everyone is still processing. I do have one question, though, and I’m almost afraid to ask it.”
Mom waited.
“If you guys were in a book, and we were in a book, who ran the inn yesterday?”
Mom pursed her lips. “We got lucky that Belinda was here,” Mom said, referring to a recent addition to The Overlook’s staff. “She managed to hold things together all by herself. We really lucked out with her.”
“We did,” I agreed. “What did you tell her?”
“We told her there was a family emergency and we forgot to leave a note,” Marnie replied. “I’m not sure she believes us.”
“I wouldn’t,” I said. “Where is Aunt Tillie?”
Mom lifted an eyebrow. “Are you going to cause a scene?”
“Maybe.”
“She’s in the library.”
“Aren’t you going to warn me about making a scene?”
“Nope,” Mom said. “Go nuts.”
Landon and I exchanged a look. “Make sure you save me a heaping pile of bacon,” he said. “I’m going with Bay. We’ll be back in a few minutes.”
We found Aunt Tillie sitting on the small couch in the library, a large leather-bound book resting on her lap. “Is that what I think it is?”
Aunt Tillie smiled at the sound of my voice. “How was your weekend? I haven’t seen you guys since Friday night.”
“How was your weekend?” I countered.
“Very lucrative,” Aunt Tillie said. “I sold out at the Renaissance fair and made a killing. I didn’t have one problem with law enforcement. It was a great weekend.”
“For you,” Landon said.
“You sound angry,” Aunt Tillie said, smiling. “Is something wrong?”
Landon wasn’t about to play her game. “I can see you wanting to punish me,” he said. “Why did you purposely hurt Bay, Clove, Thistle, Marcus and Sam, though?”
“I didn’t hurt anyone,” Aunt Tillie said. “I gave you all a chance to expand your minds.”
“By being beheaded?”
“You were never in any real danger,” Aunt Tillie said. “You don’t die in the real world if you die in the book. In fact, had you died in the book you would’ve simply slipped back into your regular lives. So, in theory, you should’ve all just offed yourself at the outset and saved yourself the aggravation.”
Landon growled. “You’re not even sorry, are you?”
Aunt Tillie seemed surprised by the question. “Why should I be sorry?”
“I guess if you don’t know there’s no sense in explaining it to you,” Landon said. “I don’t have the energy and I just … you don’t want to learn the lesson you were trying to teach us for yourself.” He kissed the side of my head. “I’m going to eat breakfast. Don’t stay in here too long. I wasn’t joking about taking off right after breakfast.”
“Okay,” I said. “Are you okay?”
Landon graced me with a weak smile. “We’re fine, sweetie,” he said. “We just need some sleep and solitude. In twenty-four hours this is going to be nothing but a distant memory.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
“I’m fine,” Landon said. “I really am. Hurry up.”
I watched him go, slowly turning back to Aunt Tillie when I was sure he was out of earshot. I had no intention of making a scene, but I wasn’t about to let Aunt Tillie off the hook. I’d figured something out in my sleep, and I wanted to confirm it.
“I know the truth,” I said.
“You’ll have to be more specific.”
“The book,” I said. “That was really you in there. That was you who showed up to be my fairy godmother, and it was you who finally got us out. You go into the book all the time, don’t you?”
Aunt Tillie shifted the book in her lap to the couch and got to her feet. “They need a benevolent ruler to lead them.”
“That’s not why.”
“Then why?” Aunt Tillie was amused.
“You made them self-aware,” I said. “They exist in the book. When we’re not there, they’re going on about their lives like they’re real people ... or creatures. You created the book for us and it somehow got away from you. Admit it.”
“I created the world for you and your cousins,” Aunt Tillie corrected. “And you used to love visiting there. I thought you would like a return trip.”
I was stunned. “I … we’ve been there before?”
“I took you there for short trips all the time when you were small,” Aunt Tillie said. “Those weren’t just stories. They were memories.”
“I don’t understand. Why don’t we remember actually being there?”
“You grew up,” Aunt Tillie said. “You stop believing when you grow up. Although something tells me you won’t forget this most recent trip.”
“Everyone fought,” I said. “Everyone got upset. Everyone got … hurt. I think Landon got hurt most of all.”
“If that’s the case, I’m really sorry,” Aunt Tillie said. “I really am. I needed a distraction. I didn’t know he’d take it so hard.”
“You knew,” I said, “but I don’t think you realized how bad things would get.”
“How were they bad?” Aunt Tillie asked. “You saved each other at every turn. You gave up the ghost about your insecurities where he’s concerned and he came to the conclusion that you’re more than capable of taking care of yourself. How is that bad?”
My mouth dropped open. “Are you serious? Is that the real lesson you were trying to teach us?”
“I don’t pick the lessons, Bay,” Aunt Tillie said. “The book does. Those were the lessons you two needed to learn.”
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