Gossamer in the Darkness: A Fantasyland Novella by Kristen Ashley

Author:Kristen Ashley [Ashley, Kristen]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Kristen Ashley, Fantasyland, fantasy romance, 1001 Dark Nights
Publisher: 1001 Dark Nights Press
Published: 2022-04-18T23:00:00+00:00

* * * *

Satrine

I took a healthy sip of wine, and said to Mom, “So this is where we’re at.”

I set the wineglass down on the dining room table very close to the bowl of tuna Mr. Popplewell was hunkered over, snarfing down, and lifted my hands to grab fingers as I counted it down.

“No doubt, being no call, no show for over a month, my job is toast.”

Mom lifted her glass and said, “Mine too.”

“All my friends, your friends, our family, Keith, Aunt Mary, various acquaintances, perhaps the news media, definitely the police, have been alerted to our disappearances. They’ve freaked, spent countless resources trying to figure out what became of us, are terrified of what might have befallen us, and if we should get back, healthy and happy, we can’t just say, ‘Had a wild and wacky vacation in a parallel universe. Oh my God! You should try it some time.’ In fact, we have no excuse as to why we disappeared at all.”

“Word, my girl,” Mom agreed and sucked back a sip.

“Dad has likely cashed in those emeralds, used all that money on wine, women and poker, and is probably trying to figure out how to get us back so he can attempt to fleece us or sell us again.”

“Asshole,” Mom muttered, reaching to the bottle to pour us both more wine.

“Witches here have pretty much gone underground, so we can’t find one. But even if we could, we couldn’t tell her, or him…no gender discrimination here, folks, what we need them to do.”

“Yup,” Mom concurred.

“I’m engaged to be married to the most gorgeous man ever created, in two universes, though I barely know him. And now, for some reason, he’s avoiding me.”

“Gotta admit,” Mom slurred. “Thas weird.”

“We’re gonna meet the king and queen. I’m going to have dinner with them, with my fiancé, who, it’s worth a repeat, I barely know, and can’t know him better if I never see his fucking gorgeous fucking annoying face. And they’re coming to my wedding to said gorgeous, barely-known, insanely annoying man.”

“I’m kinna excited about that, baby,” Mom said.

I looked her in the eyes. “We’re not going home, are we?”

She looked into mine, and she was drunk, but not drunk enough not to really mean what she said next.

“Your sister can’t make the trip. She’d lose it in our world. And we can’t leave her.”

“Yeah,” I agreed.

Mr. Popplewell got done snarfing, did some rolly-poly thing which meant he kicked his bowl down the table, before he landed on his side, his fat belly globbing out on the shining wood in front of him.

Mom watched this indulgently.

“Mmmrrrrm, thank you, Mmmmmmuuuummy,” Mr. Popplewell purred, then started licking his paw.

Mom turned back to me.

“You know me. I think things happens for a reason, honey. And it wasn’t fun, and I hate the idea of what’s happening at home, people we care about not knowing where we went, never knowing. I hate that. And I hate your father exponentially more than I already did because he’s the cause of it.

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