Chapter One:The Uncommon FAQ
In the dark of my tent, I reached for my shoes on the rug, where I set them before going to sleep. I felt inside one sole for a remnant from my own world, one I’d been trying to keep dry. Sorrel must have expected my need for the matchbox while in the Queendom of Landsome.
A flick brought life to the dark shadows of my sleeping space, and I lit the burner of my oil lantern. I set the glass hurricane around the flame as it grew, then rubbed my hands to warm them.
It was cool and the lantern did nothing to warm my tent. A straw mat plus the rug kept me off the grass and two blankets kept me covered, but apparently folk in Landsome didn’t need pillows the way I did. It was my second night on the ground and I’d slept little better than the first. My legs were sore from horseback and my neck was just as stiff.
I stayed wrapped in the blankets as I opened one of the zippered organizers inside my satchel. It was split in two. One side held a jumble of cosmetics and toiletries, the other ink and sheaths of parchment. I removed those—I had a mind to get organized before camp packed up at the crack of dawn and Queen Elthra rode us hell-bent across the green valleys once again.
We’d left Castle Creneda two days ago, we being 500 or so soldiers, members of the court, and tradesfolk. Our goal was to travel east to the valley tribes, win them to the queen’s cause, then head north to defeat the Dark Mage Amédée. It was a journey I had been reluctant to take but one I had to. Sorrel had seen to that.
While my goals sometimes aligned with Queen Elthra’s, I had bigger dragons to capture. It was time to build a strategy.
I rolled onto my stomach and put the parchment in front of me, extra sheets beneath to smooth the surface of the straw mat. I dipped a gray-vaned quill into the bottle of ink and scrawled at the top:Questions for Sorrel.
Why did you send me to Landsome?(I wanted to write “How dare you?” but that seemed a bit much for question one.)
Is my cat, Ginger, okay? Do my parents know I’m missing? Did Sara rat me out to Ed? Or is time still paused?
When will I go home?
I had some inkling as to the answers to all my questions so far, but I wouldn’t mind some reassurance.
See, I didn’t entirely trust Sorrel, my Fairy Bookmother. Yes, I believed that she had ripped me from my life in Mayfair and dropped me in a fantasy realm with vague instructions to have fun and,oh yeah, fix the plot ruined by a ghostwriter after author Sherry Whitehorse died. I could even believe in Sorrel as a magical entity. Her powers—wherever she drew them from—were definitely real. I’d experienced them myself. However, did I believe Sorrel would feel any guilt over tricking, testing, or otherwise trapping me in Landsome?
No. No, I did not. I doubted Sorrel would ever second-guess her decisions, even if they led to the ruin of my life on Earth.
Sorrel the illustrious Fairy Bookmother said she chose me because I wasLandsome Road’s biggest fan. While it was true I was absolutely obsessed with the book and TV series, Sorrel also made it clear the honor of kidnapping was reserved for me because I needed to loosen up.
I didn’t disagree with her overall assessment. I’d been sad back home. More tethered to my books than to real life. Miserable at my job as an accountant. Probably would be replaced by AI in a couple of years. However, my pathetic arrangement resulted in one big bonus—I had been thrilled to learn I would meet the handsome hero of Landsome, Sir Ironclaw.
Time back home was supposed to remain frozen while I was gone—or was it rather that I’d be transported back home only seconds after I had left? Regardless, Sorrel said I’d return to Mayfair when the time was right for me to leave Landsome with not even a minute having passed on Earth. I didn’t know how any of this worked and the FAQ she had given me when I first arrived didn’t cut it.
What I did know was that I could call Sorrel only twice more. When I did, I wanted to make the most of it, hence the list.
Plus, Sorrel was keeping tabs on me.Checking in here and there, she wrote in the letter I received the first morning of our march. If here and now was one of those times, I wanted Sorrel to read my little list and see how clueless she had left me, vaulted into a world not my own furnished only with snacks, lipstick, and a memory of the five-book romantic fantasy series to direct my actions.
I shifted within the blankets to ease the strain on my arched back.
I wanted to write,Have my actions had the desired effect on book five of tying the character arcs and plot more closely to what author Sherry Whitehorse would have wanted?but writing with a quill was more laborious than I expected. I settled forDid I do it?
Is the TV show making any other changes to the story?This was another area I wanted Sorrel to get real specific on, real fast. Was I in the book version of the story or the TV version? I understood it to be the former—the characters were true to the descriptions given in the book, the events so far mostly matched what I had read—but her letter warned about changes the TV producers were making to season five. I’d seen the effects of that firsthand with the switch in loyalty between the noble houses of Lionsgate and Badgerden.
If the story was behaving like a massive game of three-way dominoes, I wanted to understand how events resolved between the books, the show, and my own actions.
A horse nickered in the distance.
I put the quill down and sat up to stretch my back.
That was the real issue. I didn’t understand the nuance of any of this. Sorrel hadn’t given me opportunity to discuss the specifics of my goals or teach me how events would impact each other as I interfered with the plot.
It was true I secured a few victories I thought Sherry Whitehorse would have appreciated. Since the male ghostwriter had turned the last book of her romantasy series into military fantasy, my biggest focus was on cutting down the number of battle scenes so other cozier, more romantic plot lines could flourish. I’d succeeded in cutting the dragged-out battle campaign to the south in its entirety. I knew from reader forums and social media that fans wanted to see more of their favorite characters, so I had pushed the queen’s sister, Issa, into the limelight and was hoping to do the same for Lady-in-Waiting Ariana.
The biggest complaint of the fandom though—the single action that made me gasp the first time I read the series—was when Queen Elthra, fourth of her name, Regal Protectress of Landsome, broke up with her fiancé and the protagonist of the series, Sir Ironclaw.
Oh, the hearts that ghostwriter broke.
Ironclaw’s silky black hair and wide shoulders had captivated my own imagination for years, but now that I met him in person, all of that was changing.
