Chapter Two

1.

James woke up a while later with most of the pain in his body gone, but still a little headache and a lot of confusion. He wasn't certain where he was at first. He heard voices from nearby. It sounded like two men, and after craning his sore neck a couple inches, he was able to see that it was two guards speaking.

“Hapeq sunk another of Yuriania's ships last night. The ship was carrying weapons and threatened Hapeq's ship,” a low, gruff voice said informatively.

“Yuriania will probably declare war today against Hapeq,” the second said. This one had a higher, young quality to his voice.

The gruff one spoke again. “They'll certainly declare war on us as well within the months.”

“We should attempt diplomacy,” the second suggested.

“Doubt it,” he grunted. “They know we have allied with Hapeq and they know we have embargoes out against them for their questionable practices. If we get involved at all, they'll declare war on us.”

The young man started when he felt a sharp pain in his arm, and yipped, his voice cracking. He looked over an wounded resignation as the orderly took the needle from his skin and put a cotton ball over it.

“And here I'd hoped for a pretty nurse,” he muttered to himself as the large needle-bearing man stared down at him, his eyes barely showing beneath his large, hairy eyebrow. The man grunted and James gathered that he was meant to hold the cotton ball.

“What was that?” he asked.

“Something for sleep,” he grunted, walking away. A young, pretty nurse came up soon after, checking his temperature and poking and prodding. She seemed to be muttering under her breath. She was beautiful, but was most definitely talking to herself, or so he thought, until his body started to tingle. She was casting a spell on him!

The boy started to protest, but the woman gave him a severe look, continuing to mutter for a few more minutes. He stared up at the ceiling, waiting for the strange tingle/tickle to stop. It was a little unnerving, especially since her feather light touches were making him simultaneously shiver in pain and pleasure. He groaned softly as her hands moved over either side of him, knitting whatever had been broken in his backside together. Finally, she stopped and moved away.

“Wait! What did you do?” he asked, sitting up suddenly, feeling no pain. He stood easily, though he wobbled because of the suddenness of the motion, and looked at his body. “I couldn't move before, how did you do that?”

“It's too hard to explain,” she told him. “I healed you. We gave you medicine to keep you from squirming and help the pain.”

“It hurt a lot,” he said a little sulkily.

“It would have hurt a lot more without the shot. For some reason, healing magic activates pain impulses in the nerves. You feel better after, but it's hell while it's happening. You probably feel a little wobbly still because of the drug,” the young woman explained, busying herself in a drawer nearby as she spoke.

James did feel slightly wobbly, but attributed it to not standing for several days. He sat back down and looked around the room. He hadn't really explored his surroundings, having been stuck in mostly one position and hadn't really looked at anything much because of it. Actually, he had been out cold for most of the time he'd been there anyway. He was still finding all this magic stuff hard to believe. He was a scientist, he believed with his eyes, not his 'heart' or any of that happy horseshit.

“Can I explore?” he asked the woman.

“Don't ask me, ask the guards. Maybe they'll escort you to the courtyard for some air,” the healer responded.

“Can I see Jaana again?” he asked.

The woman slammed down what she was doing. “In this palace, she is referred to only as the Princess. You do not say her name for any reason.”

“Um... okay,” he agreed. “Can I see the Princess?”

“No.”

“Okay,” he looked downcast for a minute and then pushed himself up. He looked down at his body, which was, indeed, a little bit numb, and realized he wasn't wearing any clothes. He let out an undignified eep and grabbed the sheet off the bed to cover himself. “Where are my clothes?!”

“We removed them to assess the injury. They were dirty and disgusting so we burned them. You may wear this,” she lifted a bundle of fabric and handed it to him. He was a little peeved about his clothes, but took the new garments anyway, turning around to put them on. “I feel like I'm dressing up as Jesus for Halloween,” he grumbled, looking at the flowing robes they had given him. The waist was cinched around his ridiculously small waist, and the collar and sleeves had hints of blue thread sewn through the rest of the white robe. It was remarkably comfortable, but he felt like he was wearing a dress.

“You can get clothes more suited to your taste later. For now, this will do. If you wish to explore the palace, ask the guards and they will escort you,” the little healer said briskly, going back to what she was doing.

James wandered over toward the door, taking everything in. The room he was in was quite remarkable, even though it was only the infirmary The ceiling was high and pointed in great arches above. The walls were white, but leaved with gold vines up to the impossibly high ceiling. The floor was marble and tall, slender windows allowed a gentle breeze to enter the room, sending the pale blue curtains into a gentle flutter with each puff. He grabbed the wall for support as he walked toward the guards. He wondered what the rest of the place looked like. He wasn't convinced that he had gotten here by use of magic, or even that he had been healed by magic, but his interest was definitely piqued.

He headed towards where the guards had been standing a few moments before, but by the time he wobbled over there, they had disappeared. He looked down the hallway in both directions and didn't see anybody. He supposed the guard was changing or something had happened to divert their attention from the infirmary A violet light was flashing on the wall, but it didn't look very urgent. It flashed once every ten to fifteen seconds. It looked more like the bulb needed to be changed than anything else.

The young man headed right down the corridor and walked until he found more hallways branching. He had no idea where he was going, but he liked the idea of getting lost in this building and exploring. He actually liked taking long walks and getting lost to the point of not knowing where the hell he was. It was another puzzle to figure out, another avenue to explore.

He took a left, taking note of which direction he was going, just in case he really did need to get back in a hurry. As he walked, the corridors became darker. There was still that calmly flashing purple light begging for attention (if subtly), but the rest of the palace had changed. There was a cold, dark feeling about and he wasn't sure if it had actually gotten darker or if it was a trick. The air was definitely colder, and his skin was pins and needles. He wasn't sure exactly what was going on, but there was something. Though he didn't believe in magic, he definitely believed in intuition, and unlike the calm purple light, red alert bells were flashing in his mind like sirens.

He heard a muffled shriek and turned immediately toward the sound. There was a large, grand looking door nearby. Guards were slamming against the door trying to break inside, but obviously couldn't. He looked around, examining the situation. A murky black mist was slowly seeping from under the door, and it looked like the people standing in it were turning ashen, their movements becoming slow and stupid. Under closer inspection, they weren't slamming into the door, they were just running into it and bouncing back, then repeating the process.

The weird mist headed toward his bare feet and he jumped back. It almost looked like the tendrils of mist were grabbing at his ankles, curling towards him. He stepped back again. The mist was most definitely grabbing at his feet, gathering around him. He looked at it again, and then at his surroundings. The mist was almost everywhere on the floor of the corridor, but it wasn't climbing the walls. It reached upward like it wanted to, but the tendrils stopped about two feet off the ground.

There was a great cloth wall hanging suspended from the tall ceiling of the corridor. Not wasting a second, the boy grabbed the banner and began to climb. It was heavy fabric, decorate with strange swirly lettering that he couldn't understand. He didn't bother looking at it, except to grab the edges and pull himself up. Once he got a few feet above the swirling mist, he looked down. The guards standing in the mist had gone from grey to black and it seemed like there were fewer of them. He watched for a few more seconds until one of the guards that had turned black like a shadow began to crumble to sandy silt and disappear into the mist.

“Holy shit,” he muttered, looking down. The mist lapped at the walls angrily, but he was too high to reach. He looked toward the door when he heard another shriek, followed by a sharp thud. He couldn't see any way in, but there was a high window a few feet above where he had stopped. His arms were heavy and sore, but he felt a strong rush of adrenaline kicking him into motion. He used the cobbled wall as a foot hold and propelled himself upwards and toward the window.

The boy made it to the small window and squeezed outside. There was a narrow ridge that led to another window. He could see flashes of bright light coming from the next window, despite the brightness of the light outside.

“I'm going to die,” he looked briefly at the ground at least one hundred feet below him, and then shrugged. “Oh well, here goes nothing.” He lowered himself carefully to the ledge and began to edge his way towards the next window. He almost fell about eight times because of the weakness in his muscles from whatever drug they had given him, but he managed to hold onto the cobblestone outer wall and make it to the window.

The shrieking and blasting sounds were louder here. Whoever was in need was in there, and he had a feeling it was Jaana from the swearing coming from the room between shrieks. He grabbed the window and pulled himself up.

“Shit,” he ducked just as he stuck his head in. A blast flew towards him and then another.

“I don't know how you got up here, but you're dead now,” a deep voice bellowed.

Jaana looked up in relief and then horror. She'd thought it was somebody useful! James dove inside the window head first to keep from having his head removed by whatever the hell it was that man was throwing at him. He rolled forward and managed to right himself before he hit the ground again. He landed ungracefully on his stomach and groaned, but managed to push himself up.

“What the hell are you doing?” she demanded.

“Now isn't the time to be questioning,” he said and grabbed her hand, heading for the door.

“No, you fool. If we go out there we'll be devoured by the mist!” she stopped dead in her tracks, pointing to the tendrils of mist that were just behind the door.

“What is that shit?” he asked, stopping just short of the door and turning around. The man threw another blast at them and she threw up a shield in front of them both.

“I don't want to kill you,” the behemoth grinned, showing a mouth full of crooked teeth. “Just sit still, I won't hurt you.”

James pushed the woman behind his thin body, standing tall.

Raise your hand to your heart, a voice said. And then at him... just at him, nothing else.

He didn't know what the voice was, but it was convincing. He touched his heart and then moved his hand forward towards the huge man-beast in front of them. A shower of lighted pellets flew from his fingers, pelting the man. He grunted angrily.

“What did you do just now?!” Jaana shrieked. “Did you listen to the voice?!”

“Yes, it told me to do it, so I did.”

“NEVER listen to that voice!” she screamed. “You could have killed us both!”

“I don't understand,” he said, confused. The man seemed to have been stunned momentarily, or at least blinded by the flashing.

“Now is not the time to explain!” she grabbed his hand and started towards another door that led to an enormous walk-in closet. She grabbed a piece of chalk and drew a small circle around them. They heard pounding on the door and jumped, but she continued to draw, and then stood up as the door opened.

She began to chant and he held onto her arm. He didn't know what she was doing, but knew that he did not want to be left out of whatever it was. Her voice rose as the door slammed open, but the man did an odd thing. He laughed.

Jaana's voice cut off abruptly, but it was too late. “It's a trap!” she cried miserably as the world lit around them. James felt his body lifting and held more tightly to her. They world became too bright to see. He shielded his eyes against her body as they were dragged upward and into oblivion.

2.

Olive woke up with a start, as she usually did. She was alone in Kiul's huge bed. She looked around and when she didn't see him, she stood up and stretched, going to the walk-in bathroom. It didn't occur to her that he let her sleep because he didn't want her to know what he was up to. Even as she stood in the elaborate bathroom and washed the sweat and stickiness from the previous night off her small body, she didn't think that anything was awry.

Olive was many things, but she was not one to hit below the belt. She had lived on the streets for many years, and she had learned to get by. She didn't have a problem with stealing, but only when it was necessary. She knew how to fight, but she never hit below the belt unless she had to do so to survive. She was determined and ballsy, but what she was not was cheap. She did things fairly whenever possible, and she would not have approved of the kidnapping of Princess Jaana and the boy from another world, had she know about it, but by the time she was informed, what was done was done.

She got out of the shower and leisurely combed her hair, brushed her teeth, and dressed. Her outfit was simple—pants that fit loosely to allow movement, a tight tank top, and boots. Her red hair was short and out of the way as it was. The woman didn't wear makeup or perfume. She didn't need to and wouldn't have if she did.

She was leisurely while she was in his chambers, but the second her boots hit the corridor she was all business. She walked quickly to the command center to find Kiul and be briefed on what was going on. She entered the command center.

“Where is Master Somenson?” she questioned brusquely.

“In the holding cells. He requests your attention here. He left files for you to read and wanted to know your thoughts on battle strategy. Our troops have aligned at the borders and are awaiting your command, sir.”

Olive sat down at the console and opened the file. The country of Hapeq. Capital city: Kizul. Temperate land, a nation heavily reliant on the sea for their survival. Tropical, good for growing of fruit and sugar, but not for raising animals. She continued to survey the file.

3.

The Master of the Guard, Kiul, had been up before dawn, waiting for the arrival of his first spoils of war. He would use her, as bargaining, and for anything else he pleased. He waited in the dungeon and when the blinding light filled the cell, he knew it had worked.

He first noticed her intense beauty. Even twisted in fear, her face was a sight to behold. High cheekbones, large, beautiful eyes, full lips drawn back in fear. Her body was tall and lithe. He stood, and then he noticed the boy.

They landed on the floor of the cell, her kneeling gracefully, her eyes wide with fear as she realized what had happened. She saw the large, hideous man standing there, obviously waiting for her. He was going to rape her, use her as a hostage, and then kill her. She began to shiver.

“Jaana?” the boy pushed himself up from the floor, still holding onto her waist. She pulled her eyes away from the man on the other side of the bars. She had never been so happy to see the stupid earthlander. She helped him up.

“I'm fine, are you?” she asked, looking at him meaningfully.

“I could fight a thousand battles still,” he said nonchalantly, even though that was not how he felt at all. He felt like he had already fought a thousand battles, had died, and been reborn as a gelatinous blob of goo. But he did his best to look spry and confident.

She pulled him closer. Admittedly, he was confused at first, but he had understood that she wanted him to look as menacing as possible. Now she was touching him and he thought his head might explode. He felt her soft breasts against his side as she clung to him. He could tell she was terrified and was trying to use him to protect herself. James' eyes shifted to the left and he saw the man there. He looked enraged, not particularly at her, but at him. As long as there were two of them, he couldn't touch her. He could kill the boy, but he had a feeling that if he were to die for her, she would suddenly become much stronger than she knew.

“Welcome to Yuriania,” he said, looking thoughtfully at her.

“Why have you brought us here?” the woman demanded, standing up suddenly.

James stayed on the floor, not because he wanted to, but because without her support he could barely stay upright, let alone stand. The drugs they'd given him had made him weaker than he thought. He had managed to run on adrenaline for a while, but now that it was wearing off, he was completely useless.

“Why have you imprisoned us?” she demanded, going to the bars.

“Prisoners?” he asked diplomatically, coming towards her. She resisted the urge to step back. He reached forward through the bars and touched her face and she whimpered, trying to pull away, but he had grabbed her dress. His rough hand roamed over her cheeks, his thumb brushing her lips. He pulled her close to the bars, bringing her face millimeters from his. She tried to pull away, but his hand wound around her waist and kept her stationary. She sobbed as his hand fell inside her bodice and touched her breast.

“Don't touch her!” James yelled, trying to push himself up.

Jaana sobbed softly as the man released her, falling back to the floor next to James. He wrapped his arms protectively around her and she didn't try to pull away. She hid her face in his shoulder and cried.

“You are not prisoners,” he said smoothly. “You are merely guests. Do these quarters not suit you? We will find more appropriate lodging for you and your brother.”

“He's not my brother,” she snapped. “He is my lover.”

“This child?” he laughed.

It was an obvious lie. She was a grown woman and he was a gangly teenager, but he had no proof. “He is mature for his age,” she said lamely.

“Well, I will find rooms for you, then. You will have to be guarded, of course, lest something unfortunate should happen. Unfortunately, we don't have two rooms near each other, so you will have to part ways.”

“One room,” James spoke up suddenly, begging his voice not to crack. “We will stay in one room.”

“That will not do.”

“Then we will stay here,” he growled. He had no problem with this facade and he would keep it up indefinitely to protect this woman's honor.

Kiul swore under his breath for a minute and then flashed a crocodile smile and agreed. “One room. One of my guards will be down to escort you there shortly.”

The Master of the Guard disappeared up the spiral staircase that led to the rest of the compound and James let out a sigh of relief. “Are you all right?” he asked, still holding her.

“Don't touch me,” she said coldly, pushing him away. “You have no right to touch me with your peasant hands. We will share a room only because it is your duty to protect me, but you will not touch me.”

“My duty?” he asked, confused. “I'm not even from this crazy planet, why is it my duty to protect you? I could have just let him have you right there, but I didn't. You could at least be a little grateful.” Instead of coming out angrily, it was just pouty.

Her face softened for a moment. “I thank you for your assistance,” she said quietly, pulling her knees to her chest.

“Where is this, anyway? Why did you take us here?”

“It was obviously not my choice,” she said. “They set a trap for me. They knew I would try to escape this way, so they warded my chambers so that if I tried to transport it would take me here.”

“Why?”

“Because Yuriania, this country, is at war with Hapeq, our ally. They probably hope to corner Hapeq into surrender because Huenia will have its hands tied while I'm captive.”

“Great,” the young man said, looking around the dank cell. “I'm stuck in this supposedly magical world and now am being held captive because two countries that I've never heard of are at war. Nice.”

“Well, excuse me for infringing upon your life,” Jaana stood up, going to the edge of the cell and crossing her arms over her breasts, still feeling incredibly dirty.

“I'm sorry, I'm not mad, just frustrated,” he pushed himself up, standing shakily against the bars. “This is just all very hard for me to believe. I mean, I did magic... I think? I don't know which was is up anymore.”

“You didn't really do magic, you were used,” she said offhand.

“What do you mean?” he looked at her, still pulling himself upright by the bars of the cell. He brushed his shaggy auburn hair from his eyes and then looked at his hand curiously.

“Something came shooting out of my hand. If that's not magic, I don't know what is.”

“Was the voice loud or soft?” she asked.

“How did...” he began, but stopped himself. “It was loud. It was like there was somebody sitting right next to me telling me to do it.”

“Never listen to the loud voice,” she shook her head. “That's not the Creator's voice, that is the voice of the Deceiver.”

“I don't understand.”

“I assume you understand the ideas of good and evil,” she said, waiting for his nod. When he did so, she continued. “Good is the force of the Creator, the one who created all things. The Creator is a powerful being and is all around. It is said that the multiverse rests on the scepter of the Creator. Magic is just another name for the power the Creator lends us. Some people call these miracles, other call them magic or Craft. Conversely, the Deceiver, the one that seeks to destroy the multiverse, also has a great deal of power. Both the Creator and the Deceiver powers can be channeled through us, but where the Creator allows us to wield the power, the Deceiver uses us. When there is need for magic, to use that power, you will hear a voice, or sometimes more than one. The Deceiver most often speaks in a loud voice, trying to make you sure that it is what you need. The Creator, however, speaks in a small voice, a quiet one. The Creator offers, the Deceiver demands. When you do as the loud voice tells you, you allow the Deceiver to control you. Sometimes, like earlier, nothing comes of it. Sometimes it can destroy you, or whole worlds.”

“I have trouble believing any system that relies on higher powers for guidance.”

“You don't have to believe, you just have to experience. You felt that power. I also would wager that you felt it move you, not the other way around. That is the Deceiver. Using magic... it requires training, and you have to learn how to wield it correctly, but the first rule is to learn to discern the Deceiver from the Creator. The Deceiver will destroy you and those you love. When you become close to the Creator you learn to hear the voice.”

James stood silently for a minute absorbing this information. Hadn't he felt the power? Hadn't he heard that voice that wasn't there? It was hard for him to deny that this might be real, but it was harder to accept it.

“Is that how you ended up in my world?” he asked. “A misfire, or whatever?”

“No,” she shook her head, going toward him again. She was feeling a little less shaky now, judging by her body language. She took his arm and led him to the tiny cot, helping him sit there. “I was traveling and trying to get back to my country when there was a shift.”

“A shift?”

“It's to difficult to explain it now. The network of nexus is kind of like a road map. Lately, the map has been shifting... tilting a little. Things have been going awry. As I was traveling, it shifted, and I ended up in your world.”

“Like when you tilt to board in pinball,” he said. “Why would it do that?”

“I don't know what this 'pin ball' is and I don't know why things are shifting as they do, either,” she sat down beside him. “It concerns me. I am skilled at traveling between nexus points, and even I ended up in your world. It's almost as if... I don't know. It destabilizes everything.”

“I'm not sure how these points work, but maybe something is disturbing enough access points, or one that's important enough, that it's affecting others in different places. Kind of like ripples in a pond.”

She shook her head. “I am not as knowledgeable in this areas as in others. I cannot say.”

“Are we really just going to sit around and wait for them to let us go?” he asked.

“In present condition, yes. You can barely stand upright and I'm in no condition to fight.”

“Are you hurt? He didn't do anything while I was still knocked out, did he?” he looked concerned. She found it almost endearing. Almost; not quite.

“No, just tired. Transports are exhausting.”

James got down on the floor and laid down. “We should rest while we can.”

“Get off the floor, you fool. You're still injured,” she said to him, standing up over him and frowning. “You're no good to me if you can't even defend me.”

“I'm fine, you rest in the cot. I'm closer to the door, too, so if he comes back he has to step over me to get to you.”

Though she didn't like it, she laid down on the cot and closed her eyes.

3.

Kiul stormed into the command center. He grabbed Olive and led her back to his chambers.

“What are we doing about Hapeq? What is your plan?” he asked as he undressed her.

She sighed. “We attack their harbors first. They will rush to defend the harbors because they are valuable to their trade. When they divert their troops to the harbor, we invade from the borders and take the capital.”

“When the capital and ports have fallen, they will be ours,” he said softly as he kissed her neck and fondled her breasts. “Brilliant.”

The woman pushed herself up. “This is not the time, sir. We have business to attend to.”

“We have captives from Huenia,” he told her. “They have frustrated me.”

“Captives? Who? And why from Huenia. They are not involved, aside from their embargoes They haven't moved against us.”

“But they would have. It is better to prevent their aggressive action by disabling them,” he tried to push her back down, but she nimbly hopped off the bed, pulling her shirt on.

“I must see these captives. I hadn't factored Huenia into our defensive position, but now we must. Who have we captured?”

“Princess Jaana, and some stupid boy that was with her. We will need to dispose of the boy. The Princess will easily be used to our advantage.”

“There is no need to increase hostility by killing the boy. We need only release him as an act of good will,” she argued. “If we release one, the government will count on our kindness in release of the other.”

“This is true, however, killing him will send a message to the people that they need obey us lest more innocents die. You will kill him, Olive.”

“What?” she stopped in her tracks.

“You will kill him, or you will lose your position.”

Kiul left the room. Olive stood silently. She couldn't kill a prisoner for no good reason, especially of a country with which they weren't even warring. It made no sense. It was obvious that Kiul had not anticipated having this boy with the Princess, and that he was getting in the way of his plans for her, the bastard. She hated him with a passion, but he held her position, and probably her life, in his hands.

Taking up her weapons, Olive headed for the holding cells.