Prologue

I never liked fairytales. I liked them even less once they came true.

Around five years ago—at 1:14 am on June 22 nd , to be precise—our world collided with another, remaking itself. As a result, so many places and people were lost forever. Familiar landmarks and homes were suddenly gone, replaced with lands and creatures that absolutely did not belong here.

Take Saint Cloud, Minnesota, for example. That city and its suburbs were once home to around eighty thousand people. All gone. Instead, the area became the home of some sort of dark elf enclave. Instead of a land of lifted trucks, dilapidated strip malls, and corn, it turned into an impenetrable bubble that grew only rumors.

An improvement, as far as I was concerned. Saint Cloud was an acquired tasted, and I never managed to acquire it. Though it did have some hamburgers that will be sorely missed.

Unfortunately, Minnesota was not the only place in the country impacted by the worlds shifting. Some sort of magic swamp settled itself around Phoenix—oh, the irony of that much untouchable water appearing in the Sonoran Desert. And New Jersey acquired angels. Yes, real angels. And no, they weren’t the cute and cuddly kind.

This is merely a small list of what turned our world upside down—the whole world—and ruined millions of lives in the process.

See, entire counties disappearing and then reappearing with new residents had the effects one might imagine. Panic. Concern over the missing people. Ruptured families. And grief. So much grief. Disruption of utilities and other necessary services was another result. It was downright apocalyptic, for around a year.

And then the media—traditional and social—came along, and everyone slowly accepted that this was the new normal, and that there was money to be made. To my eternal consternation, that was how we ended up with things like Leprechaun Lives on social media and Nights Out with Night Elves streaming specials, and a bunch of other reality shows, podcasts, and even “magical influencers.” Why be natural when you can be super natural? While some people considered the fantasy beings’ arrival as the end of the world, others latched onto them as the best thing to happen to their humdrum lives.

As for the new creatures themselves, the ones who ventured off the lands that had transported them, some of them tried to blend in with humanity, accepting that returning home was unlikely. Some of them were transported on pieces of land no bigger than a SUV, and thus had nothing to cling to, literally or metaphorically. Many fae seem to be able to blend in with us, as well as nymphs and other more humanoid creatures. There was even a satyr at Princeton University, prominently featured in their press releases.

And other creatures kept to themselves, hidden behind their magical borders, and studied mankind from a distance. Some humans guessed that these recluses refused to try to assimilate, in part, because they were desperately searching for a way home. Others noted that these new creatures, by their own admission, were not exactly friendly with each other, and many of them had to navigate old rivalries while blending in with ours.

As years passed, the idea of searching for a way to send these beings home has seemed more and more pointless. No one knew how or why these new creatures appeared, or how they could return. And if they left, would our original world return in its place? Or would we receive something even more strange in exchange?

As for me, I kept to myself. And I know, I know. But before you accuse me of being “not like other girls,” consider this—the “other girls” disappeared. Dozens, if not hundreds, of people have disappeared in the years since the new lands’ arrival, seeking gorgeous mythological creatures and adventures. Especially young women.

Even as the world around me slowly became obsessed with our new neighbors, even as I watched everyone drift away from their sorrow over what was gone, even as more and more women disappeared, I promised myself one thing—

I would not become one of them.