“Your realm. My realm.” He indicated each hand in turn. He wriggled his index fingers, then curved them so that the tips almost touched. “Some places, realms closer together. Like at the sidhean. Little gap, small gap, can jump over. Open the door, step through. Easy.”
“But it’s not easy everywhere? Not here?”
Motley beamed at her, like a teacher with a bright student. He wiggled his pinkies, without moving them closer together. “Yes, yes. Here, could open a door, but big gap between the realms. Can’t jump across. Can’t throw something across. Would fall down the crack.”
“Okay. So you’re saying we need to do this back at the sidhean?”
Motley dropped his hands. “No, no. Don’t need to go through the door. Just look through. Wait.”
He whipped the bark to one side like a magician finishing a trick. Warm sunset light spilled from the rickety frame, gilding the edges of the blades of grass. Bending over, Tamsin peered through the sticks, and found herself looking out over the familiar sheep fields around Fair Hill.
Home. The distant glitter of traffic on the horizon, the homely bright beacons of lights in scattered cottages, even the faint, windblown tracks of airplanes across the sky—the normality of it all made her heart tighten in longing.
Motley clicked his tongue. “No. Not here. Try again.”
He dropped the bark down to cover the portal like a curtain. Immediately, he lifted it again, revealing a different scene. This time it was Tamsin’s own kitchen, as though she was standing in the doorway looking in.
Homesickness stabbed her again. There was her gorgeous vintage stove that kept the whole room toasty-snug even in the bitterest winter nights; her collection of handmade mugs, and her glass jars filled with different blends of loose tea, herbs, and spices. Everything was just as she’d left it, down to the dog chew toys scattered across floor and the dirty plate with buttery toast crumbs sitting next to the sink.
Angus whined in her arms, straining forward. She tightened her grip on his collar, rubbing his chest.
“I know, baby, I know,” she whispered, unable to tear her eyes from that familiar, tantalizing view. “We’ll go home soon. I promise.”
Motley made another sound of annoyance. “Not here either. Wait. Will find her.”
He flicked the bark down and up again. Tamsin didn’t even have time to take in the view that appeared through the portal before it was gone again, Motley closing and opening the makeshift door over and over.
“No,” he muttered, his face scrunched up in an expression of intent concentration as he passed the bark back and forth in front of the frame. “No. No, no, yes!”
“I don’t care that it hasn’t been three days yet!” someone said from the other side of the portal, voice raising. “Look, I know Tamsin Farley. She wouldn’t just flake out and not show up to work. She loves those dogs. I’m telling you, something has happened to her.”
Relief surged through Tamsin at that familiar sharp, take-charge voice. Peering through the portal, she found herself looking down at Betty’s office. From the odd angle, Motley must have anchored the portal in one of the windows.
Betty herself was pacing back and forth in front of her paper-strewn desk. She had a phone in one hand, while the other was clenched into a fist.
The policewoman listened for a moment, and her mouth tightened. She looked like she really wanted to punch whoever was on the other end of the line.
“I just know, okay?” she snapped into the handset. “Please, ma’am, I need authorization to start a county-wide search. Every day we delay gives whoever did this a chance to get further away. No, I know it’s not protocol, but—”
“Betty!” Tamsin hissed.
Betty looked up, and her jaw dropped.
“I’ll…call you back,” she said into the phone, and dropped the handset. She jumped up onto her desk, her anxious face filling the portal. “Tamsin? Is that you? Are you all right?”
“Are you Wild Hunt?” Tamsin blurted out.
Betty blinked. “Okay. You have been busy in the unseelie court.”
Tamsin let out her breath in an explosive whoosh. “So you are fae.”
“Not exactly.” Betty’s lips drew back in a feral smile, and for the briefest instant unearthly fire kindled in her dark eyes. “I’m a hellhound. We’re kind of distant cousins to the fae. And yes, I am a member of the Wild Hunt.”
“Quick, quick.” Motley had drawn back, hiding behind the portal as though worried Betty might lunge through and bite him. He fidgeted with the piece of bark, casting a nervous look around. “Open door to human world will attract attention. Bad attention. Not just the Hunt. Hurry.”
“Listen, I haven’t got much time.” Tamsin spoke as fast as she could, her heart hammering. “I was tithed to the unseelie fae, and now I’m stuck here. There’s some kind of curse on me. Is there anything you can do to help me?”
Betty’s jaw firmed. “I’m already working on that, but it isn’t easy. Look, did you get a glimpse of the guy who pushed you down the portal? Can you tell me anything at all about him?”