I think the next time a friend asked for a favor from me, I was just going to punch him.
In the throat.
Because this was utter madness.
“Er…” I squinted in confusion. “I’ve actually understood you every time you’ve said that.”
Strangely, there’d never been a language barrier between us. A fact I found to be vastly interesting but she didn’t seem to care about in the least.
And it really couldn’t.
Doria had literally landed at my feet from another world two days ago, and we had repeated this very same conversation about twenty times now. It didn’t seem to change much either.
“Okay, then, fine,” she ground out, shooting me a death glare. “Help me understand exactly where I am. Maybe we can work backward from there.”
Lord have mercy, I wasn’t sure how much more of this I could take.
As a complete stranger to my land, Doria could be in danger anywhere she went, so I figured it would be best to keep her as close as possible until I figured out more suitable boarding arrangements.
If only I’d known how much torture constantly being in her repetitive presence would be.
If I’d been minding my own business in my own land, only to be unexpectedly yanked from everything I knew and then tossed into a world I’d never heard of before, all against my will, I’d probably possess a much more irritable temperament than she.
Comparatively speaking, Doria was taking this quite well. I just needed more patience. That was all. I could handle this.
“Except we couldn’t stay in Belle,” I went on.
If I had remained absent from the palace for too long, it would’ve drawn unnecessary questions, which could’ve ultimately exposed secrets that would place not only Doria but also myself and my closest loved ones in mortal danger.
“So I brought you home with me,” I finished. “Which is where we are now.”
I lifted my brow reproachfully, thinking that a very clever question indeed.
But Doria lifted her eyebrows right back and snapped, “Easy.”
Because, of course, she did.
She liked to make me look like an incompetent fool with all her earthly knowledge. She had an answer to everything.
And for a scholar like me, it was growing quite vexing.
On the other hand, I was learning volumes by just being around her. So I pushed my bruised ego to the side and shifted forward to hear what she had to say as she grabbed my quill and dunked the writing end into my inkpot, way too liberally for my peace of mind. Then she leaned to the side of the chair she sat in and snagged a crumpled piece of parchment off the floor where I’d had it lying nearby.
“Here, I’ll even draw you a picture,” she told me as if she were addressing a child while she unwadded the ball and ironed it flat with her hand.
Worried she was going to read the extremely private missive I’d written on the sheet—before I had promptly discarded the idiotic note—I lurched forward to stop her. “Wait. Don’t—”
But she didn’t even give the hastily jotted words a second glance. She merely flipped the parchment over and slopped ink across the blank backside, where she started scribbling.
Forgetting about the royal mess she was making on my tabletop with the staining splatters, I blinked curiously and leaned further over the table to watch.
“Fascinating.”
“Seriously?” Doria’s jaw dropped as she gaped up at me. “You didn’t even know what a damn planet was? Is there no study of astronomy here at all?”
“Oh boy.” She blew out a long breath before deciding, “Fine, let’s start smaller.” Then she pointed toward the window. “What do you call that big, blindingly bright, shiny thing in the sky outside that provides light throughout the day?”
I scowled before dryly answering, “You mean, the sun?”
She honestly believed I was an imbecile, didn’t she?
“Oh.” She tried my suggestion, slowly dragging the tip of the quill down and then lifting it and bringing it back to the top to finish the other half of the circle. “Hey, wow. That actually worked.”
“Shocking,” I murmured in my typical, phlegmatic way. “You could also use the writing table there, if you like.”
The slanted surface helped keep the quill horizontal when writing, which also assisted with ink delivery, but Doria remained seated at the flat table that I usually ate my meals on, littering it with more dark, oily splatters as she mumbled, “No, thanks. I’m good. Anyway…” She looked up at me and pointed to what she’d drawn. “Here’s my sun, okay?”
“Okay,” I said slowly, squinting at her picture that consisted of different-shaped balls lined in a row.
“Maybe it’s the same sun we see from here, or maybe a different one,” she went on.
What in heaven’s name was a galaxy?
Gads, this was going to be a long day. I could already tell.
And I wasn’t wrong. From there, Doria taught me about galaxies and solar systems, planets, moons, asteroids, and comets, then linked them all together with terms like magnetism and gravitational pulls. By the time she was done, most of the day had passed and my head hurt, but I was beginning to maybe believe her stories about all the different planets and worlds out there.
I met her quizzical gaze, then looked back down at her diagram. We could be absolutely anywhere in there. Or somewhere else entirely.
I suddenly felt very small, knowing so much more vastness existed beyond the Outer Realms than I’d ever fathomed possible.
Swallowing thickly, I offered her an apologetic wince before admitting, “I have no idea.”
Closing her eyes with a groan, she slapped a hand to her brow and shook her head in disappointment. “How did I know you were going to say that?” Dropping her fingers, she squinted at me tellingly. “And you’re supposed to be, like, the smartest guy on this planet, right?”
I really needed to get a message out to Indy’s friend, Bison, who’d also come from Earth and was currently living in Far Shore. Maybe he could help us in a way no one else could.
“Perfect,” Doria muttered, blowing out a long, exhausted breath as she wiped a bead of perspiration off her brow with the back of an ink-stained hand. “I’m doomed. I’m fucking doomed.”
I winced at the smear she left behind but thought it best not to burden her with any more problems just now, so I refrained from mentioning the mess and merely cleared my throat. Ink remains looked rather charming on her, anyway.
“The good news,” I started with a strained smile, “is that we know others have come here from your planet before, and they’ve been able to adjust and make homes for themselves in the Outer Realms without many issues. So I’m confident you can too. We just need to get you properly assimilated and—”
I blinked, not sure what to say about that. We didn’t hold our tomatoes quite so dear in the Outer Realms. But apparently, they must be a valuable commodity on Earth.
Or maybe Doria was grasping for any trifling reason she could find to justify a breakdown over the overwhelming sensation of loss and confusion that certainly had to be gripping her.
Trying to be kind and helpful because I couldn’t even conceive of the fear she must be experiencing, I softly said, “We have tomatoes in the Outer Realms. You can grow as many plants here as you like.”
“I don’t know,” I murmured gently, handing her a handkerchief as she sniffed at the tears that poured profusely down her cheeks.
I almost asked why she was so determined to return if her homeworld was so undesirable, but I had a feeling she might hurt me if I inquired. So I kept my mouth shut and just watched sympathetically as she finally wiped her face and then blew her nose.
Gathering her dark mass of curling hair into a pile on her head with one hand, she somehow whipped it into a knot to keep it off her neck. Once it was safely secured, she began to fan her face with the other hand, letting me know she was growing warm.
For wearing such strange attire and acting as no female I’d ever met before, she still made a fetching sight. Many High Cliff men would clamor for her attention, I was sure. Which was another reason to keep her close. She’d need protection.
It didn’t feel that hot to me, but I motioned toward the window. “Would you like me to crack open the clear rock for you to get a little air circulating?”
She frowned in confusion. “Clear rock?”
“Er, glass.” That was right, I knew the alternate word for clear rock. My younger brother, Urban, had written and explained it to me once, years ago.
Huh.
Damn, I was an awful scholar.
“Would you like me to open the glass in the window,” I offered, moving past my own downfalls.
Doria nodded and blew out a relieved breath. “That would be great, thanks.”
They immediately reminded me of a little girl with hair as fiery red as the dead leaves. I swear, her favorite pastime had been running through the fallen foliage and kicking to make every leaf scatter and dance in the air. She could do it for hours at a time.
My chest creaked with an old ache. God, I missed her.
Across the room, Doria sighed in delight. “Oh wow, so much better. Bless you.” She sent me a smile before looking back down at the map of the Outer Realms that sat next to the galaxy she had drawn.
“You mean, like, the very portal I came through to get here?”
I nodded. “Exactly.”
Doria didn’t seem to care about any of that, though. Her eyes glowed with hope and excitement as she asked, “But someone from that family must know, right?”
I sighed. There would be no convincing her what a bad idea hooking up with a Graykey would be.
“I guess it’s possible,” I allowed on a weary shrug. “Except you can’t permanently stay on Earth when you travel there from here merely from chanting the words alone. You need a transference amulet with you. If you don’t have the amulet, you’ll get sucked back to the Outer Realms within a few moon cycles—er, within a few months.”
When Doria squinted as if not understanding, I repeated, “You’d just come back again within a few months if you go there without an amulet.”
“There seems to be a need for balance in the two dimensions,” I tried to explain, even though I didn’t totally understand it myself. “If one goes and stays, then one must come back to stay. So if you went back permanently, then someone else would have to return in your place.”
I cared though. Because I didn’t want to have to go through this all over again if she left and sent a new earthling back for me to assimilate in her stead. It’d been hard enough to convince her she was no longer on her home planet.
One time through this misery was enough, thank you very much.
But I sighed and said, “I understand your frustrations,”—because I really did—“and I’ll do everything I can to help you find a way back.”
I would too, even if it meant having to repeat this infuriating process all over again. It didn’t seem right that someone should be sucked from the life they knew without their permission and forced to stay here if they didn’t want to.
“But in the meantime...” I added on a wince because I already knew she wouldn’t like what I had to say. “It might be in your best interest to try to adapt to life here and get accustomed to our ways. Your own safety and security could rely on it. If you stick out too much and act too differently, people will notice, and it could land you in danger.”
And besides, if we couldn’t figure out how to get her home, this world would be all she had left.
“Lovely.” With a groan, she pressed a hand to her brow and squeezed her eyes shut before reopening them and looking up at me. “But okay, that’s probably smart. Thank you, Olivander. Thanks for everything. I know you didn’t have to help me at all, and I’m being a massive pain in the ass about this, so I should let you know I really do appreciate you taking me in like you have and explaining as much as you did. I’d be so lost without you right now.”
I inclined my head regally. “It’s been my pleasure, my lady. And feel free to call me Vander if you wish. It’s the name my friends use.”
“Oh, I’m not all that important, trust me,” I countered. “As the second son with no immediate claim to the throne, I barely rank nobility to most people.”
“Yeah,” Dori snorted. “I have a hard time believing that one.”
“’Tis true,” I argued, smiling just enough to feel the dimple in my cheek dent. “But I do have enough clout to hire an assistant without any questions asked, so I’m going to look into recruiting a female to help us with our endeavors.”
Dori nodded. “Okay. Yeah, that sounds smart. The more brains we have attacking this problem, the better chance we have of solving it and getting me home.”
Cringing out an immediate groan, Dori muttered, “Aww, hell. Is this one of those men-rule-and-women-shut-up-and-obey worlds? Please say no.”
“Well…” I started hesitantly. “It’s…”
I sighed miserably, focusing on the note she’d discovered.
“Who’s Unity,” she asked, “and why is it too dangerous for her to come here?”
