Chapter 2
(Ley Lines & Fae Lines: Book 3 in the Lola and Twink series - a work in progress)
“I think I’m going to regret letting you talk me into flying in the main cabin,” Maddie said as we both squeezed into our narrow seats.
“I think you’re right,” I grumbled. “I haven’t flown in a while, but I don’t remember airline seats being such a tight squeeze. Imagine someone just a few pounds heavier than you or me! What happens when anyone even slightly larger tries to fit into these contraptions?”
“They get fat shamed,” she said, tsking as she fastened her seat belt.
Twisting my hips in the confined space, trying to get comfortable, I said, “If I had known we’d have to sit like this on an eight-hour flight, I might have let you pay for first or business class, but the thousands you saved mattered more to me during the planning process.”
“Live and learn,” Maddie sighed, craning her neck to peer into the business class section up ahead of us. “Looks like a full flight. No upgrades today … maybe I’ll arrange better seats on the way back … whether you approve or not.” She grinned at me, knowing that this was exactly what she would do.
I stifled an urge to be furious at the airline’s blatant cash grab — their miserly attempt to jam too many passengers into limited space — and decided instead to focus on the extra legroom we had in our bulkhead seats ... for which, yes, Maddie had to pay extra.
“Now listen, Lola,” Maddie said, leaning toward me so no one would overhear, “I get that you’re having a hard time with all this, with Chuck and Amanda guilt-tripping you and whatever else is going on in your head, but we’re here, on the plane, and we have a fabulous ten days ahead of us. You’re going to have to lighten the eff up or I’ll … well, I don’t know what I’ll do, but it’ll be drastic.”
“You’re right,” I said, trying to smile. “Thank you … for both trying to cheer me up and for giving me a reason to be cheered up. I promise, I’ll leave all that behind starting … now.” I punctuated that ‘now’ by snapping my fingers.
The flight attendant approached and said, pointing to my carry-on, a combination purse/backpack, “Ma’am, I’m going to have to stow that in the overhead. Personal items must be placed under the seat in front of you, and ...” she gestured at the lack of seat in front of me.
“Oh,” I said, flustered. “But all the stuff I need for the flight is in there.”
She smiled but didn’t budge. “It’s FAA regulations.”
“Give me a minute,” I replied. I dug through my bag and pulled out my phone and its charging cord, my book and a bag of trail mix, tucking them into the narrow space between my hip and the armrest. I handed her the bag and she thanked me, before hoisting it up into an overhead bin a couple rows behind our seats.
She then turned with the same purpose to Maddie, who also retrieved some needed things before relinquishing her bag, and we both settled in for a long, uncomfortable flight.
Once we finally taxied and took off, Maddie pulled out a notebook brimming with loose sheets of paper and said, “Let’s go over the itinerary ... this is the first chance we’ve had to do this uninterrupted.”
She showed me a printout of our schedule for the next ten days and said, “When we land at Heathrow, it will be evening. The clocks will be five hours later than in Ohio, so we’ll grab a hotel room near the airport and try to sleep off the time difference. I’ve made reservations ...” she flipped through the notebook and pulled out a sheet of paper that indicated a reservation for two rooms.
“I would have been fine sharing a room ...” I began, but she interrupted.
“Honey, we both need my own space,” she guffawed, laying her immaculately manicured hand on my arm. “Besides, wouldn’t Chuckles be upset if we shared a hotel room, considering …” She glanced conspiratorially downward.
I asked, “Considering what?” … and then remembered ... “Oh, yeah. I didn’t even think about that. To me, you’re just ... Maddie ... and I don’t care if ‘Chuckles’ doesn’t like us sharing a room. I’m focused on cutting costs and there is nothing sexual about our friendship, even if you are biologically male. After all, you’re my best friend.”
“You’re sweet,” she said, “but let me worry about the costs. I’m not good at sharing hotel rooms. I take over the entire bathroom with my gear and, besides, Paul tells me I snore. So … there’s that.”
I laughed and agreed, “Okay, maybe you’re right.”
“Good,” she said. “That’s settled. Next,” she shuffled the papers again and continued, “we pick up the rental car at Heathrow tomorrow morning ...”
“Why do you have this all printed out?” I interrupted. “Surely there’s an app to keep track of all this.”
“Of course there is,” she said, “but this ain’t my first rodeo. I always print everything just in case. Like now, we’re in airplane mode, so I can’t access the internet and I’m not paying the airline’s sky-high ... no pun intended ... fee for wi-fi. I may be able to afford it, but I know a rip off when I see one.”
“Aha!” I pounced, “See? You do care about cutting costs!”
She rolled her eyes and chuckled, “I may be fabulously wealthy now,” she said, “but remember when we first met? How poor I was? Old habits die hard sometimes. I’ve learned to pick and choose my splurges and I don’t mind paying big bucks for a comfier seat on a long-haul flight or an extra room so we can both stretch out and enjoy some alone time. Those can be written off as business expenses. But I don’t really need wi-fi. I downloaded plenty of music and movies at home, and I can live without doomscrolling for a few hours.”
A nearby flight attendant, pushing a drinks cart, handed us both a bag of pretzels and asked if we’d like anything to drink. We both ordered a beverage — me a glass of orange juice and Maddie a cola on ice — and continued the conversation. I asked, “Weren’t we supposed to spend the first day resting and getting over jet lag? Why are we picking up the car right away?”
“Oh, right,” she said. “I realized, after we talked about it, jet lag shouldn’t be too bad on the way there. As I said, it’ll be evening in London when we arrive, so we’ll have an entire night to sleep. Plus, I plan on snoozing away at least some of the eight hours looming ahead of us ... if I can get comfortable in this torturous monstrosity,” she grinned and said, wiggling dramatically in her narrow seat.
“Besides,” Maddie continued, “I thought we could make a quick stop tomorrow along the way to break up the long trek to the estate sale. It’s just a ninety-minute drive from London to a cute little village called Avebury, and we’ll spend a night there before heading to Devon. That way we’re not pushing ourselves into a long drive with possibly too little sleep.”
“I’ve heard of Avebury,” I said, sipping my juice and eating a tiny pretzel. “Raven suggested a visit there when I told her we were going to England. I think she said it’s a bigger stone circle than even Stonehenge. Is that on the way? Can we see Stonehenge?”
“I don’t know,” Maddie replied, “I’ll have to check once we have internet again.” She shuffled through her itinerary papers and continued, “Next day we’ll drive to Devon, check in to our rooms, and the following day is all business for me. You can take the car and go sightseeing if you don’t want to hang out with me drooling over antiques.”
“We’ll see,” I said. “I’m not real keen on driving on the wrong side of the road.”
Maddie laughed and took a big slurp of her beverage, “I hear you, sister. It does take some getting used to. I’m going to depend on you to be my navigator.”
Ignoring my grimaced reaction, she went on. “After all the tax-deductible business is done, we are free to be tourists and we’re off to Glastonbury. I’ve rented a charming little two-bedroom apartment at the foot of the Tor, with a spectacular view of the hill and the tower on top. Maybe your faeries will meet us there!”
“I think you can bet on it,” I said, somewhat surprised that none of them were hovering overhead, eavesdropping. Then I remembered how much the faeries hated riding in the car, which moved so fast it boggled their minds. I imagine that being inside a plane, going ten times as fast, would be more than they could deal with.
When I told them about our upcoming travels, Twink and her younger sister, Precious Pea, were so excited that both throbbed and sparkled in anticipation. I was used to Pea blinking in and out of sight when emotions ran high — this is apparently something faeries of her ilk grow out of as they mature — but I’d never seen Twink do it.
Twink always endeavored to present herself as an adult and above-it-all, despite her young age — I’m guessing she’s the faery equivalent of a human in their early twenties, with Pea around Amanda’s age, both in their mid-late teens — so to witness her reverting back to an adolescent reaction was kind of cute. When she heard we were going to Glastonbury, there she was, excitedly exuding great clouds of faery dust in greater quantities than ever before.
I didn’t know much about Glastonbury when it first came up in conversation with Maddie. I knew there was a huge festival there every summer and I had watched YouTube videos of bands performing there. But I was unaware, until the faeries filled me in, that the Tor that Maddie mentioned is a mystical spot ... a huge hill with a stone tower at the top, at the intersection of two ley lines.
I had to look that up, too. I still don’t fully understand what ley lines are, but they have been described as Earth’s acupuncture meridians. The acupuncture points are sacred sites that fall along these invisible lines. Glastonbury lies at the intersection of the St. Michael line and the Mary line, with their respective masculine and feminine energies, so the intensity of the energy is especially strong.
Because of this, apparently, Glastonbury attracts spiritually minded people. They climb the Tor and get some kind of buzz out of being at the top of the hill. Raven even commented, “How exciting! I can’t wait to hear your take on the energies because you’ll be there during the equinox and an eclipse. You’ll just have to tune in without picking up on all the other pilgrims who climb the hill with you. With your ability focus getting better every day, I don’t doubt you’ll have a lot to report.”
“Yes,” I said, “but one reason I’m looking forward to the trip at all is to get away from all this.” While I loved Raven’s shop and her customers and my reading clients, the folks who kept us both in business, I needed a break from other people. The idea of fighting crowds in a sacred spot wasn’t at all appealing.
Despite my overall grouchiness, though — once I learned about all this — my anticipation began to build ... especially after Twink dropped a hint that the ‘king of the fae’ lived beneath that hill. I don’t think I’ve ever met a male faerie. All the faeries I’ve interacted with seem to be female. I wonder what the King will be like ... if he presents himself as available to meet, that is.
I’d love to travel to Jennett’s Foss someday, but it’s not on the itinerary for this trip. That’s where I met Twink’s Aunt Jennett, queen of the fae, but that was in the spirit realm via a form of shamanic journeying. In ‘real life,’ so to speak, Jennett is based in the northern Yorkshire area of England and Glastonbury is in Somerset, in the southwest.
Just as I began gathering wool, considering what the phrase ‘real life’ might mean as it relates to the fae, Maddie said, “Well, doll, I’m going to try to get a little nap in. Wake me when they bring the food cart around.” She tucked her notebook next to her hip and reclined her seat.
“Will do,” I replied. I wasn’t tired and knew I wouldn’t be able to sleep yet, so I reclined my seat as well and pulled out my book. I tried to read, my mind swirling instead with thoughts of ley lines and the faeries I might meet along the way … perhaps in the physical world and not just the spiritual dreamtime.
I couldn’t focus though. My mind kept drifting back to Chuck and the way we left things when Maddie picked me up for the airport. We were barely speaking and that made me sad. I hoped that a little time apart would help us miss each other. I’d like to come back to a warm welcome, instead of resentful grump.
Oh well, I thought. I’ll call him once we land and let him know I’m thinking about him and promise to text every day … keep the lines of communication open.
I decided to join Maddie in a little shut eye, even if I couldn’t sleep. It was going to be a long, uncomfortable flight and none of her light-hearted threats about my mood would change that.
To follow along, you’ll want to first meet Lola and Twink in A Faery on My Shoulder and The Faery Falls. They’re only $4.44 each on Kindle (also available in paperback), or I’m happy to gift you an e-copy if money’s tight — just promise to pay it forward by being a supportive reader, sharing posts, or sprinkling encouragement.
Lisa Bonnice is the co-author of Fear of Our Father, now a Lifetime Original movie (Monster in the Family). Beyond true crime, her fiction explores the mysteries that shape us—from the humor-and-heart metaphysical comedies A Faery on My Shoulder and The Faery Falls to Castle Gate, a genealogy-based historical novel about ancestral healing and resilience, available in both print and audio.
Lisa hosts the podcast NOW with Lisa Bonnice and writes about the intersection of truth, transformation, and storytelling. Learn more at lisabonnice.com.