“He realized immediately that he was not on his own bed filled with crunchy straw in his own bedchamber that smelled faintly of wet dog in his own hall that smelled much worse than that. He was on a floor. He sniffed. A not-unpleasant smelling floor. Damnation, he was still trapped in Faery! He had assumed he would go to sleep and wake up where he was supposed to be. Apparently, his escape would take more cunning and a bit more effort than collapsing on the floor and hoping for the best. Then ag...ain, perhaps he really wasn’t in Faery, he was actually in the Future. Victoria McKinnon had said as much. He suspected she might be telling the truth. Faery had to be more, well, flowery. To be certain, there were flowers aplenty on either side of the pathway leading up to the inn, but they were flowers that looked quite ordinary. And he had seen no small sprites dancing amongst them the day before. He was quite certain there had to be sprites in Faery. He sat up. It was not full light yet, but there was light enough that he could see the contents of the chamber he was in.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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