“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” Trintio muttered.

“I can’t believe you put it off so long,” Cami shot back.

The two of them stood at the forest’s edge. Specifically, they were in Cami’s backyard. The bunker was walking distance away.

But they were headed somewhere else.

“It was out of concern,” Trintio insisted. “You’re not where I was hoping you’d be, you know.”

She shot him a quizzical look. “Wouldn’t that be your fault?”

“Do you want me to do this for you or not?”

“I do, but--”

Trintio raised a hand, and she stopped herself.

“Don’t make me change my mind,” he grumbled.

Cami studied the grass. The last thing she wanted was Trintio changing his mind. Her true potential was so close, she could almost taste it…

“Remember my advice,” Trintio said. He stooped down, bringing a palm to the earth. “Tell no one your name, eat no food, and take no gifts.” Leaves stirred around him. As they fluttered off, a hole in the earth became clear.

Just big enough for them to fit into.

“But they wouldn’t mess with me, would they?” Cami asked, laughing nervously. “I mean, I’m a fey, too.”

“Treat it like a hazing,” Trintio replied. “They won't do anything permanent, but it’d be a headache to deal with.”

Cami raised a brow. “Is it really a hazing if it doesn’t have the chance of permanently messing you up?”

“Your people are strange, Cami. Really, really strange.”

“You’re the one who just opened up a giant hole in the woods.”

Trintio shrugged. “They make it easy to get from one place to another, especially when it comes to travel between realms.”

“I’m not going to break my legs jumping in, am I?”

“I wouldn’t recommend just jumping in,” Trintio said with a laugh. “I mean, we have wings for a reason, right? Pop those out.”

Cami's cheeks burned. “I’m still pretty bad at doing it on demand. Can’t you make them pop out using some fey magic?”

“You realize that’s kind of like asking me to clothe you, right?”

“This is why I want to take my vow, Trintio. So you don’t have to clothe me.” And so I don’t have to wait for high stakes like my girlfriend being caught in a ring of burning light.

Huh, she thought. Is Helena my girlfriend? I think she might be my girlfriend now.

"Fair enough," Trintio said, rolling his eyes. “Hold still.”

Cami stood stick-straight and sucked in a breath. Trintio waved a hand, and like that, her body changed. Grew, stretched, and went eerily cool.

Every time it happened, it felt more like a homecoming. More like she'd always been this way.

“Thanks,” Cami said. When she was tall enough to make proper eye contact--not that she did it often--he was easier to talk to. “So we just... fly?”

“That’s what the wings are for. Follow me.” Without another word, Trintio leapt into the hole.

Cami, before her common sense could kick in, jumped after him. Her wings unfolded and hummed behind her, powered by simple instinct. They were quieter this time around, and Cami sighed in relief at that.

As they floated down, not only did Cami’s eyes adjust to the darkness, but the walls of the hole lit up. Vines and branches climbed up the earthy walls, their leaves glowing like candle flames.

“How long do we float down for?” Cami asked.

"That's a hard question,” Trintio said, shrugging. “Kind of depends on how the tunnels feel.”

Cami’s head cocked to the side. “The tunnels have feelings?”

“Indeed. They’re moody bastards, too.”

As he said it, a low rumbling echoed from everywhere at once, and the lights of the leaves flared up.

“Don’t make them mad,” Cami hissed.

“They're just playing,” Trintio assured her. “You know, this will go by much easier if we sit still and keep quiet.”

“How do we sit still? We’re dropping down a hole.” The thought of so much as slowing down made Cami shudder. This was new, and weird, and downright uncomfortable. The breeze from below was uncomfortably warm, the lights of the flora intense, and there was a distinct, muddy smell she had to try not to gag at. “I want this over as soon as possible.”

“It’ll be over, Cami. Look, there’s the floor.”

Cami followed his gaze, and sure enough, saw a light at the end of the tunnel. A literal light, a pale violet orb at the edge of her vision. One that grew bigger by the second.

“Are you sure that's a floor?” Cami asked, squinting. “Just looks like more falling."

“You could say it’s a door, I suppose.”

Cami’s feet grazed the light’s surface, only to sink in. Like it was made of quicksand. She swore, and her wings picked up, but it was in vain.

“The fuck kind of door is this?” she yelped. The light crawled up her legs, her waist, up to her chest. It was cool but not frigid, like a summer shower, and, worse, just as wet.

“A door between worlds,” Trintio said matter-of-factly. “Again, if you hold still, it’ll be over sooner.”

Cami swallowed more curse words and went rigid. This better not happen every time I travel worlds, she thought. Because I’ll lose my mind. I’ll lose my damn mind.

As the light swallowed her whole, though, everything disappeared. The coldness, the wetness, the glow.

The emptiness was its own overload, so heavy after all the little irritations that’d piled up. Cami swung her head around, looking for a sign of Trintio.

But she was alone.

Her feet hit something like dirt, and she took a moment to steady herself. A minute went by, and then two. Her wings sunk back into her skin, and she shrank, back into the body of a lost human girl.

I didn’t hold still enough, she thought. And now something’s gone wrong. And I’m here, and I’m all by myself, and I’ll probably die before anyone notices I’m gone.

She’d been bottling it up for so long that it actually surprised Cami to feel tears rolling down her cheeks. Her head fell into her hands, and her body shook with silent, wracking sobs. Some part of her wanted to scream, but the dark had taken her voice. She could barely hear herself breathe.

What am I doing here?

Rainbow was right. I should’ve been more careful.

Her body fell against a wall she couldn’t see, and she yelped at the cool earth seeping against her back, the way she almost sunk in.

This was too much. Too much, ten times over.

Cami tugged at her necklace, trying and failing to ground herself. Not in this dark, damp, abyss.

In fact, she was so lost in her own head, she didn’t notice the hand emerging from the soil until it’d tapped her on the shoulder.

Cami shrieked, a sound cut off as the hand clapped over her mouth. She saw a face poke out from the earth in the corner of her eye, pale and round.

“You’ll wake up every burrow from here to hell at this rate,” growled the voice. However, it wasn’t all that intimidating--high and airy, almost childish. Cami relaxed.

The hand dropped, and she asked, “Who are you?”

Dirt fell, pummelling the earth like rain as the stranger emerged into the clearing. It was a girl, small and slender, with long, dainty limbs and deep, blue eyes that glimmered. Not like eyes were supposed to, but like marble or glass. Her legs were those of a deer's, like the drawings of satyrs she'd seen as a child. Her hair came down to her chest, and as Cami studied her, she realized it wasn’t hair at all, but a whole bush’s worth of lavender whorls.

“I’m Dee,” said the creature. “You’re Trintio’s kid, right? Cami?”

“I wouldn’t call myself Trintio's kid, but…” Cami wiped away the last of her tears. “I got separated from him, somehow.”

“First time through the tunnels?”

Cami nodded. “Maybe I moved around too much. I can be bad at sitting still.”

“That’ll do it.” Dee chuckled. “If you’d like, I can take you to the courts. Trintio’s probably already there.”

“Are you one of his friends?” Cami asked. Trintio hadn’t told her the protocol for this. Sure, trusting strangers wasn’t the best idea in normal situations, but offending the fey didn’t seem like the safest choice, either. “Just, like, yes or no.”

Dee shrugged. Her hair rustled with the movement. “Of a sort? I'm what they call a verrai: moulded from the land to be a member of this court. To be direct, Trintio and I are on the same side, and I’d earn nothing from tampering with his work. That includes you.”

Cami snorted. “I’m not his work, either.” She stood up a bit straighter, suddenly missing the height of her fey form. She still towered over Dee, but she wasn’t particularly imposing. “I’m a fey. And I’m a powerful one. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll take me to the courts.”

Dee looked up at her through shiny violet eyelashes, nonplussed. “I was going to anyway, but sure.”

The wall of dirt behind her gave way, revealing a tunnel done in shining silver marble. At the end was a door.

“Follow me,” Dee said, spinning on a heel--hoof?--and strolling into the darkness. Cami complied without a word. As Dee threw the door open, they were both bathed in a pale violet light.

As the space came into view, Cami recognized all the hallmarks of a bedroom. A bed lay against the furthest corner, its deep blue sheets unmade and a round white pillow barely resting on the edge. A vanity stood across from it, one of its wooden drawers hanging open. Cami’s feet sank into a shag carpet, and she studied its fuzzy pattern to ground herself.

This was a perfectly normal bedroom, save for the fact it looked like it’d been pelted by angry trees. Vines crawled up the walls, so thick and interwoven Cami had to squint to see the silver paint underneath. Ivy framed the vanity mirror. Moss had found its home in little patches on every wooden object in the place.

“It’s a bit of a mess,” Dee admitted, “but it’s home.” She turned to Cami, a teasing grin on her face. “Now, I get to make you presentable.”

“Presentable?” Cami echoed, cocking her head to the side. “I thought I was just here to take my vow, and then leave.”

“A vow is a big deal!” She pulled her into the centre of the room, and when Cami looked back, she realized they’d stepped out of a closet. The tunnel evaporated like morning dew, and left only a rack full of clothes in its place. “Now, step out of that tacky little human suit.”

“What’re you talking about?” Cami murmured. She hugged herself, like Dee could tear the skin she’d known her whole life right off. Who knew--maybe she could. “This is me. This is who I am. It’s the fey form that feels like a suit, if you want the truth.” A suit she'd grown quite fond of, but a suit nonetheless--a costume. One that felt so wonderful, but at the same time so foreign.

I haven't earned it yet, she thought to herself, insecurity pricking her chest. It fits so well, but I haven't even taken my Vow, haven't even gotten it under control.

Dee poked her in the ribs. “Gosh, you’re in some deeeeeep denial.” She glided past Cami, her head vanishing between two dresses. “That human suit,” she went on, “is what’s contained your true self this whole time. Are you telling me you’ve never felt like you didn’t belong up there?”

“Oh, I did,” Cami assured her, “but that’s because I’m autistic. And gay.”

“And not human. You didn’t belong there, but you do belong here.”

Cami was gladder than usual for the lack of eye contact, the conflict probably clear as day on her face. “It’s not like I don’t belong there at all. I have friends and stuff.”

“Like who?”

“Jane. And Olivia. And Helena.” Cami stood up straighter. “And Rachel, and…" She couldn't in good conscience count Cassidy. "Well. Four is still a lot, isn’t it?”

Dee shrugged. “For someone who’s been living a lie, sure.” She emerged from the closet, pushing something soft and green into Cami’s hands: a suit. It was, she realized, about twice the size of anything else. Which made sense: Dee had the stature of a malnourished middle schooler.

“It’s not a lie,” Cami pressed. “The life I’ve lived is still my own, no matter what.”

“Sure, kid. Listen: Trintio told me to pick this up for you, and it won’t fit when you’re all pink and petite. Get out your featherform.”

Trintio. Shit. “Do you know where he is?" Cami asked.

Dee’s eyes widened. “Oh, right, I was supposed to let him know if I found you. I’ll be right back. Please be your true self by the time I’ve returned.”

“I’m still not sure how to do that,” Cami said. “Last time, I only transformed because I had to rescue my girlfriend.”

“Hmm.” Dee studied her. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Like hell, you will.”

But Dee wasn’t listening. She smoothed out her skirt and scampered off, out the door. It was the only thing not covered in foliage, and instead shone uncannily, like a pearl.

Cami glared down at the suit in her hands. If she wanted to, she could've used it as a blanket.

“Oh, well,” she muttered. “Here goes nothing.”