Central Park
Saturday, 11:00 a.m.
Michael was too restless to sit around, so he took a shower, dressed, and headed for the park. He still felt wobbly and sore and couldn’t move very quickly—a possible sign that his adventures had been real—but he needed to do this. He had to know.
On a Saturday morning, the park was an entirely different place than it had been the night before. It was full of people enjoying the last weekend in August. Kids ran around, laughing and yelling. People walked dogs, sat on benches and read, or just strolled along the paths. He headed straight for Belvedere Castle, ignoring all the other park activities.
He wasn’t sure what he expected to find—maybe a scrap of that spiderweb silk clothing or a sign that those booths had been there. Instead, the place was painfully normal, crowded with Saturday-morning park-goers. He stood in what he estimated to be the spot where he’d seen Jen. He could picture the scene in his mind, as vivid as if it were still happening. Had he dreamt it, or was Sophie telling the truth?
The park didn’t hold any answers for him. The market might as well have taken place on the moon. With a weary sigh, he headed down the stairs. At the foot of the stairs sat a small white cat—the cat he’d helped? It stopped grooming itself and approached him, rubbing against his ankles and purring. Apparently, that much had been real. The cat then trotted daintily over to a hedge and turned to see if he’d followed.
Caught in the hedge were several scraps of fabric. One looked like it had been torn from the shirt he’d worn the night before. Another seemed to have come from Sophie’s dress. A third looked like it had been woven from spiderwebs. All that told him was that he and Sophie had been here, along with someone else who dressed like Sophie’s so-called fairies. It still didn’t mean that there was a fairy realm hidden beneath this world.
He looked around for the cat, but it was gone. “Did you lose something?” a soft voice from right next to him asked. He jumped, startled, and turned to see a woman wearing a flowing white dress. Her hair was white-blond and sparkled with sunlight even though they were in the shade. She looked vaguely familiar, but he couldn’t quite place her. “Or perhaps you lost someone.” There was a faint sibilant hiss to her speech.
“No, no, I’m fine,” he said.
“You lost your lady. I could help you find her. You saved my life. I owe you a favor.”
He backed away warily. “What? You must have mistaken me for someone else.”
She made a purring sound deep in her throat. “I make no mistake. I helped you last night, but that was because I do not like Maeve and we must protect the enchantress. I still owe you a life debt.”
Michael figured he had two options: He could faint, let the park’s medical personnel deal with him, and then pretend that none of this had ever happened and resign himself to never seeing Jen again, or he could accept all the evidence and do something to get his wife back.
“Maybe later,” he told the woman, who flicked him a smile before sauntering away.
He headed home, moving as quickly as he could without straining himself. He needed to talk to Sophie.