So Spoke The Wanderer 3.1

[rivlee]

Bargaining

Occasionally Bob Leckie was given over to the wisdom of keeping his mouth shut. It meant that Haldane was giving him more concerned looks than usual, but at this point, Leckie really was willing to sacrifice his pride to get his ass home.

He’d read a passage from Webster’s diary, one that stated there was a way to get home without signed transfer papers or a waiting period. He just needed access to the High Security Clearance shelves of the library. He had a feeling that access was above Hoosier’s pay grade.

“What the hell are you up to,” Hoosier asked over lunch at The Grounded Brigantine.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Leckie said, digging into his soup.

“Uh-huh,” Hoosier said.

“Would I lie to you, a 21st Level Wizard,” Leckie asked.

“20th Level,” Hoosier corrected, “and I’m almost at the 19th.”

“Again, would I lie to you?”

“In a heartbeat,” Hoosier said. He ripped off a piece of bread and chewed it while studying Leckie. “It helps that you’re a shit liar and incapable of hiding the signs. Just don’t do anything that will get Haldane in trouble. He’s got enough to deal with; he doesn’t need to ride to Ville in order to defend your stupidity.”

Leckie held up his hands in surrender. “I swear I’m doing nothing to get Haldane beheaded or thrown in jail.”

“I noticed you didn’t include yourself in that statement,” Hoosier said.

Leckie pointed at Hoosier’s plate. “Just eat your food, Hoosier. Christ, stop being so paranoid.”

“I will find out what you’re up to.”

“I have no doubts,” Leckie agreed.

There was a different feeling to The Grounded Brigantine that night, the normal crowd seemed on edge, and everyone was giving a dark-haired man at the bar a wide berth. Not that Leckie could blame them; it looked like steam was flowing from the man’s nostrils.

“What’s that guy’s problem?”

Hoosier turned around and laughed. “That guy is a dragon in his human form.”

Leckie felt his face go blank. There were some things a person just wasn’t meant to here over dinner. Oh, that’s the local dragon was high on that list. He wasn’t sure the proper way to respond, but instinct led him to, “You’re shitting me.”

“Why don’t you go poke the dragon and ask. They call him Speirs, guess how he got that name,” Hoosier drawled.

Speirs didn’t look all that friendly for a magical dragon. More Smaug than Puff.

“Does he have, like, a hoard?”

“Don’t all dragons,” Hoosier said. He conjured a book out of thin air. “This is the listing of the residents with the most wealth. At the top of that list, above all the royal families, trolls, and other dragons, is Speirs.” He let the book drop on Leckie’s lap. “You really should read your Handbook one of these days.”

“Admittance is the first step to acceptance,” Leckie muttered. He flipped through the pages, admiring the skill and craftsmanship that went into the book. He scanned the section on Speirs. “He’s friends with the Reeve of Huntington?”

“Oh, yeah, Carwood,” Hoosier said, pausing to take a swig of his drink. “He’s never actually run for the position but keeps getting re-elected because Speirs likes to chat with him. And never tried to set him on fire or eat him. It’s one reason why Huntington is seeing an increase in their profits. Speirs finally stopped eating their sheep.”

“The dragon’s in love with the reeve,” Leckie asked, just to clarify.

Hoosier shrugged. “You can’t tell me that’s the strangest thing you’ve ever heard.”

Leckie smirked. “My idea of strange has changed greatly since coming here.”

“I’ll drink to that,” Hoosier said.

Leckie held up his glass in a mock toast, but his attention was drawn back to the book.

“Where did you get this from?”

“The library,” Hoosier said.

“You just stole a book from the library. God, Brother Bear must hate you.”

“Jay doesn’t like it when you call him that,” Hoosier said. “Besides, I’ll put it back once you’re done molesting it. It’s bound in mermaid skin in case you’re wondering.”

Leckie dropped the book on the table and shook his hands. “That’s disgusting.”

“It’s an ancient book from a time when the world was harsher,” Hoosier said.

“I thought those were current records,” Leckie said.

“They are,” Hoosier answered. “It’s an ever-expanding book.”

“Of course it is,” Leckie muttered. He shouldn’t still be surprised by these things, but each day brought something more seemingly impossible into his life.

“I’ll send the book back if it bothers you that much,” Hoosier said, holding out his hands, a pale golden ring already forming in his palms.

“Nah,” Leckie said, “I’ll do it. I’ve got to stop by the library anyway.”

“No matter what you say, Jay’s not going to change to your organizational system,” Hoosier said.

“For once I will concede defeat in that matter. Clearly the Library of Congress is no match for whatever the hell the University uses.”

Hoosier just snorted and went back to his meal.

********

“Do you know where this goes?” Leckie asked, carefully dropping the record book on Jay’s desk.

“Hoosier,” Jay said, a growl at the back of his throat. “How would that wizard like it if I decided to just up and liberate stuff from his quarters without telling him.”

“He does this a lot?”

“He has no respect for the needs of climate-controlled rooms and ancient papers,” Jay said.

Leckie nodded in sympathy. “I’m indirectly the reason for why he decided to steal this book, so I’d only feel right about putting it back in its proper place.”

Jay looked almost shocked. “Perhaps you’re not a completely hopeless case after all.”

“I’ll try to take that as a compliment,” Leckie said, doing his best to hold back his natural retorts.

“Hoosier just sends the books back with no regard to the system. I cannot tell you how often I find herb manuals mixed in with the children’s literature. Honestly it’s an abuse of power.”

He jotted down some notes and sketched out a map on one of the tablets. “That will show you how to get to the County Records section. I’m afraid few pass that way, outside of the tax collectors and property managers.”

“Not everyone’s a fan of local statistics,” Leckie said. “They’re not exactly an engaging subject matter.”

“They can be for what they reveal,” Jay argued. “For example, that book in your hands, it lists the wealthiest citizens of our lands. It shows which creatures and what occupations are more inclined to garner wealth. It shows what Royal and Noble families have true wealth and which just have titles. It offers the first bits of evidence for possible research questions. Why is it that a dragon is on the top of the list? How has he remained at the top for as long as anyone’s memory reaches? I find the Records a fascinating subject.”

“And they’ve got to help you on your way to hibernation,” Leckie said.

Jay chose not to respond to that one. He simply tapped the tablet and the map lit up like some Atari-version GPS.

Leckie was hoping he’d have a chance to sneak up to the High Clearance racks, but he had no doubt Jay had rigged the tablet to alert him if Leckie dared deviated from the path.

All he needed was to find out just where the hell the elves lived. The Other Side seemed to be lacking a North Pole, and none of the globes or pamphlets in the Watch Keeper’s office showed an elven settlement.

Webster’s journal noted that while the elves weren’t Realm Jumpers, they could sometimes be persuaded to tear open the divide. They needed to be properly compensated of course. It never said if Webster actually tried such a thing, and Leckie wasn’t about to ask the man, but it was a theory worth exploring.

Anything to get him home quicker.

He was startled to find actual filing cabinets in the County Records sections. It just seemed so pedestrian for a library attached to a castle run by magical creatures. It was so absurdly mundane that if he wasn’t in a library, he would’ve burst out laughing.

The tablet had only shown the room, not where the book was supposed to go, and there were no carts or tables for sorting and shelving. “Where the hell am I supposed to put this,” Leckie said out loud.

One of the filing cabinet drawers rolled open.

“Sentient filing cabinets like Haldane’s, of course.” He carefully placed the book inside, trying not to shudder as his fingers passed over the mermaid skin.

He looked around the room, it wasn’t large, or full of endless cabinets, but he had an odd feeling nothing was quite what it seemed. He tapped the cabinet drawer in front of him. “Why do I have a feeling you’re much bigger on the inside.”

Leckie strolled over to the middle of the room and looked around. “Can anyone give me a map of the elvish settlements?”

There was no reply. He remembered that Haldane said he was part Autumn Sidhe, not an Autumn elf, but Leckie wouldn’t put it past Webster to not use the proper term on this side of the divide.

“How about some maps of the Sidhe Settlements?”

Five drawers flew open with a plethora of documents floating out.

“Now this is some magical bullshit that I approve of,” he said, walking over to the closest stack.

********

“You finally seem to be adjusting well,” Eddie observed while they took up a Watch Keeper shift.

“You can’t fight City Hall,” Leckie muttered while refilling the pamphlet shelf.

Eddie softly laughed. “You are a strange, tiny man, Robert Leckie.”

“Why, Eddie, that almost sounded like a compliment.”

“Oh, you’re still full of shit and up to something,” he said with nonchalant honesty, “but at least you’re no longer trying to kill all of us with your eyes.”

“You all act as if I’m some unnatural abomination for getting angry over being dropped here.”

“The grief is only natural. However, I’ve never seen one cling so stubbornly to the unrealistic notion of going home early as much as you.”

“I’m not grieving,” Leckie said, ignoring the rest of Eddie’s statement.

“Of course you are. Your life span is so short, so fleeting, that even the smallest of matters seem significant to you. You are grieving for what you see as lost time and lost opportunities, rather than embracing the truly unique experience before you.”

“Does Haldane know he’s married to a pompous jackass?”

“He certainly has no trouble taking them in, even when they are random strangers.”

Leckie glared at him. “I’m starting to suspect that Hoosier and Snafu learned their delightful personalities quirks from you.”

“And to think, Jay had you pegged as Nature over Nurture.”

“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph,” Leckie cursed. “I do not need backroom psychology from my own world administered by a Siren and a man who turns into a bear.”

“Very interesting,” Eddie said in a perfect mockery of Bugs Bunny as Freud.

“Okay, now you’re just being an asshole.”

Eddie laughed. “When they brought over your cartoons, Sledge was at his wit’s end trying to explain them. Webster didn’t even bother. The artists in Ville have attempted to recreate them, but I fear we are much more a land for song and story-telling.”

The Realm Jumpers brought all sorts of things with them, but Leckie never bothered to ask just where they were housed. Not that he was in desperate need of a Disney fix, but he could use some help from MacGyver.

“Where do they keep all the things they bring back?” Leckie asked.

Eddie walked over to the map case and unrolled a black one. As he spread it out, it lit it up with images projecting off the page like some warped version of 3-D. Eddie tapped the map and the images formed into clear pictures of buildings.

“Each of our large cities has an archive, or a library, or some sort of storage facility. Some are devoted to culture, others to medicine and some, like our library here, to various disciplines. The largest facility is in Ville of course, where the royal family and the Court reside. Each of the cities has a Realm Jumper representative and they bring back the artifacts and maintain the archives for their cities. We have contacts in your world who helps us convert our currency. The Realm Jumpers and the contacts purchase objects on subjects that were either requested or are of general interest.”

“Quite a smuggling black market scheme you’ve got going on here,” Leckie said. He fought the urge to poke the images projecting off the map. “People from here settle over there too?”

“It’s a rite of passage for recently turned adults to join their local Real Jumper on a journey to the Other Side. Clearly a bit of magic and disguise is required for people like Jay and Bull, but your current generations seem overall to be much more accepting of those who look just a little off.”

“Whole careers have been built around it,” Leckie agreed. He tried to remember the Sidhe settlements he’d seen on the library’s maps. “You say this map shows all the settlements?”

“Not allof them,” Eddie said. “Some places are kept off the grids for safety reasons.”

“What about the Sidhe,” Leckie asked.

Eddie openly studied Leckie for a moment. “Please don’t tell me you’re that stupid.”

“It’s an honest inquiry,” Leckie argued.

“Anyone ever tell you you’re a shitty liar,” Eddie asked.

“At least once a day,” Leckie said.

Eddie shook his head. “Leckie, I can’t stop you from doing something that is monumentally idiotic and possibly fatal, but I can ask you to not do what you’re planning.”

“I’m not planning on doing anything,” Leckie clarified. “I just wondered if there were more of them outside of Haldane’s family and in Ville.”

Eddie pinched his brow, adopting the look of the long suffering, and sighed. “I’m going to pretend, for the sake of my sanity, that you’re honestly curious about a Sidhe settlement. Lucky for you, Aindrea’s tasked Hoosier with taking this year’s census to the Sidhe of Midwood. You can tag along.”

“Thanks, Eddie,” Leckie said.

Eddie shrugged. “It’ll be a bit of a journey. Takes at least three days to get there in fair weather. The census can take up to a month and then there shall be the return journey. I suggest you go down to the market and purchase some warmer clothes.”

“No one mentioned camping.”

“You should count yourself lucky, to have the luxury of sleeping under the stars with hardly a care in the world,” Eddie admonished as he rolled up the map.

“It’s not like I’ll know any of the constellations,” he said. It was a hard thing to get used to. Looking up at the night sky and not seeing the North Star. Just yet another unsettling thing about being here.

“You don’t need to know everything about the world to find it beautiful,” Eddie said, the weight of his years behind his words. It was easy to forget, with his young face and engaging banter, that Eddie was pretty damn old. He was an artifact in his own right.

“So when does this romantic trip for two under the stars begin,” Leckie asked.

Eddie looked out at the sky, cocking his head to the side as if the very sun rays were talking to him. Leckie wouldn’t be surprised if they were.

“There’ll be rain tonight. I can already smell it coming in off the sea. The ground will be flooded, far too saturated to travel. Aindrea should send you out by next week. I suggest you prepare for sleeping on the ground. We’ll contact Roe to send some salves ahead of time.”

“The Reaper?”

“He won’t kill you,” Eddie said.

“He might,” Leckie muttered. He looked down at the shoes on his feet, mostly made of cloth, and thought of the black oxfords he’d worn into this world. “You said it’s going to rain?”

Eddie nodded. “I encourage you to travel down to the market as soon as possible. And perhaps stop by the shoemaker before going anywhere else.”

********

Bob Leckie wasn’t used to being outdoors for long periods of time. He’d never joined the Boy Scouts; never went to Summer Camp; and his parents were far from the sleeping outdoors type. Their family vacations always occurred at hotel beach resorts, not camp grounds, and Leckie would never deny the fact that he was a city boy, born-and-raised. Three days into their little trip, Leckie could already feel the sunburn on his skin and the stiffness of his sweat-soaked clothing. He’d never wanted a bath more in his life.

Hoosier wasn’t suffering from any similar affliction. In fact, the wizard seemed to be thriving out here, surrounded by nothing but nature and open air. There was even a distinct glow rising up from his skin, something that either never happened within the walls of Merrymec or Leckie just never bothered to notice before now.

“You’re glowing,” he said, as Hoosier finally agreed to stop for the night.

“Your eyes are finally adjusting,” Hoosier replied. “I always have some residual magic around me. I’m not like Eddie and Andy, my eyes don’t shine, but you can still see the magic when your eyes get used to it all.”

“Snafu doesn’t glow,” Leckie pointed out.

Hoosier nodded. “He doesn’t, but he’ll make your skin crawl. Doesn’t mean to, but it’s a natural reaction to being around something who can see into the Beyond.”

“Ahh,” Leckie said as he settled down under a tree.

Hoosier put the tent up, Leckie having already miraculously failed at it, and made the site ready for the night. Hoosier’s movements were seamless; he didn’t seem bothered by the stifling heat of the evening, or the cold that would surely come with the night. A breeze was already picking up, ruffling the lose curls of Hoosier’s hair. It wasn’t hard to believe that he was something otherworldly, out here in the coming night.

“You want to stop pining over there and help tie this thing to the tree,” Hoosier asked, holding out one of those ropes.

Leckie smirked and titled his head back. “Oh, I think you’ve got it all well in hand.”

“You’re a useless, spoiled bastard, Leckie,” he said.

“I do what I can,” Leckie answered.

Hoosier huffed and stood, up, pulling the rope of the tent tight as he tied it down. Leckie would be a liar if he said he didn’t enjoy the view. Hoosier had been shirtless for most of the day. Watching his taut muscles and lithe body at work, while enjoyable, was more than a tad distracting.

Hoosier settled down beside him and dusted the grass and tree bark off his palms. He had dirt stains on the cuff of his pants, grass stains on his knees, and Leckie had never seen him more comfortable in his skin. They had both grown quiet on this journey, occasional snide remarks as always, but while Leckie had to concentrate on not noticing the cramps in his legs, Hoosier just watched the sky.

Leckie pulled off his boots and rested his feet in the still warm grass. It felt good to get some air on them, even if the blisters were killing him. Hoosier grabbed his foot and carefully drained the blisters.

“What the hell are you even doing out here, Leckie.”

“I wanted to get some fresh air,” Leckie said, trying hard to keep his face blank and failing as Hoosier worked over his feet.

“Sarcasm doesn’t always save you,” Hoosier said. He pulled out a pack of bandages and started to wrap Leckie’s feet. “You’re clearly not used to traveling like this. So again, what the hell are you doing out here?”

Leckie knew that Hoosier wouldn’t give up until he got an answer that satisfied him. Leckie just didn’t know how much he should reveal. Hoosier, like Eddie, could easily see past all bullshit, and Leckie was overflowing with it right now. There wasn’t a good way to explain that he planned on bargaining with some tree elves to get home early; throwing part of his life and a bit of his soul up as payment. The whole plan wasn’t exactly a testimony to Leckie’s patience or intelligence. He knew it smelled of desperation and stupidity, but he had to at least try.

“It’s not a crime to be curious,” he finally answered.

“I have a feeling it might just be with you,” Hoosier said.

He decided to leave that statement alone and turned to the sky, watching the setting sun. He had to give Eddie some credit, all his wisdom spouting wasn’t bullshit. The night sky was a peaceful and beautiful thing to watch, even if he didn’t understand the stars.

********

Hoosier ordered Leckie to put on the magical shades as they approached the Sidhe settlement. He understood why as soon as they approached the gateway of intertwining vines. Even through the filter, the magic was so potent it was damn near blinding.

“How are your retinas not melting?”

“I grew up near a Sidhe settlement,” Hoosier simply explained. He held out his hand and a golden light appeared in the shape of a hawk. It took flight, easily maneuvering over the gates.

“That’s a neat trick,” Leckie observed.

“I know a thing or two,” Hoosier said.

The hawk figure returned, perching on top of the vines. There was a whisper on the wind, suddenly all the sound seemed to go out of the world, and a whooshing pulse passed through the ground. Leckie reached a hand out, grasping on to Hoosier’s shoulder so as not to fall from the force.

“Steady,” Hoosier said as the gates opened.

Leckie didn’t quite know what he was expecting. All his knowledge about elves came from a collective version of Santa Claus myths and Tolkien. Haldane looked pretty damn normal, no pointy ears or shoes to be seen, but he sensed these elves were just a little bit different.

“Look, Sam, Wood Elves,” Leckie muttered.

“Sidhe,” Hoosier corrected, “don’t piss off our hosts before even entering.”

“Or what,” Leckie asked.

“Or be banished,” a gruff voice replied. A small-statured man stood before him, defiantly staring at Leckie.

“Welcome to Midwood, Wanderer” the man said.

“How does everyone know that?”

“The visors give you away,” Hoosier flatly stated. He held a hand up in greeting. “Leyden, always glad to see you haven’t managed to kill yourself.”

“Not for lack of trying,” Leyden said. He held out his hand to Hoosier and pulled him into a quick embrace. “Glad to see you haven’t blown yourself up yet.”

“Not for lack of trying,” Hoosier mimicked.

Leyden gestured his head to Leckie. “I see Eddie wasn’t lying when he said you were bringing a guest.”

“Leckie wanted to tag along,” Hoosier said. He motioned for Leckie to come forward. “Bob Leckie of New York, meet Bill Leyden of Midwood.”

“Bill?” Leckie asked, taking Leyden’s offered hand.

“Short for Ailill,” Bill said.

“Right,” Leckie agreed, “because William is too obscure”

“You got a cousin named Webster?” Leyden asked. He shook his head. “Never mind, of course you do. Family resemblance is clear. Alley will be upset you’ve brought a new friend, Hoosier.”

“It’s not like that,” Hoosier said.

Leyden looked between the two of them and just nodded with a far too knowing smirk.

“Uh-huh,” he said, “I’ll be certain to change your room accommodations around. Might as well be on our way. It’ll take Leckie a day to get there as is with that limp.”

“Let me guess,” Leckie said, whispering to Hoosier, “they’re the mischievous kind of elves.”

“Sidhe,” Leyden corrected from up ahead, “and yes. It’s why Haldane doesn’t trust us to fill out our own census forms.”

“That’s really more Jay’s decree,” Hoosier said, pulling Leckie along. “He’s not a fan of all the proposals he receives.”

“But he’s such an adorable little cub,” Leyden said. “We haven’t had a Were in our clan for at least twenty generations.”

“Can’t say I blame Jay,” Leckie said.

“Oh, they have their perks,” Hoosier said.

“And Hoosier would know,” Leyden agreed.

Leckie would’ve clutched his pearls if he had any. He’d never seen such brazen innuendo on this side of the divide. Not even in The Grounded Brigantine. It made him wonder just what the hell Andy and Eddie were like when they weren’t playing Mr. & Mr. Upstanding Citizens of Merrymec.

The walk to the settlement was spent mostly in silence on Leckie’s part. It took all of his energy to just get his legs to work. He wasn’t exactly a sloth in his normal life, but there was difference between walking New York City blocks and unpaved ground. The air was thinner here besides, farther from the sea level and closer to the tree line. His balance was already slightly thrown off, and it didn’t help that they were clearly walking at an incline.

No wonder Webster never bothered to make the bargain. Half the people probably died just trying to get to the Sidhe.

The sun was setting by the time they arrived in the settlement. Leckie was almost disappointed at seeing nothing but normal stone and thatched-roof houses.

“What, no house in the tree tops?” he asked.

“Who the hell are you again?” another elf asked, standing beside Leyden. He was shorter, with dark curly hair and a snarl on his lips.

Leckie never really thought about how he expected elves to look like and act, but this one certainly made Leyden downright pleasant.

“Bob Leckie, meet JP,” Hoosier said. “JP’s not one of the wood Sidhe, he’s an urban dweller.”

“So, under a bridge like a troll.”

“I’ve asked him about billy goats but he apparently hates that joke,” a familiar voice interrupted them.

“Sledge,” Leckie said, honestly shocked. “What are you doing here?”

Sledge looked different out here as well, more at peace, and healthier with a little sun warming his skin. His smile was small, but warm.

“Shifty’s here to officiate a wedding. I decided to tag along, I need to go visit the Watcher of the Woods anyway.”

“The who of the what?”

“Winters,” Hoosier said, as if they clearly explained everything.

Leckie was stopped from his questioning by JP circling around him. He took big whiff of Bob’s hair.

“Human,” he said.

“You got a problem with that?” Leckie asked.

“Just wondering when Midwood became a haven for your kind,” JP said. He turned to Leyden. “This one okay to pass?”

“He’s not a threat,” Leyden said, almost laughing. “He can barely stand, JP.”

“I know that,” JP said, “but that doesn’t mean he’s harmless.”

“Oh, I didn’t say that,” Leyden agreed, “but Leckie seems smart enough, for a human.”

“Hey-” Leckie protested. Sledge slapped a hand over his mouth before he could say anything else.

“I’m sure Mr. Leckie could do with a wash and a rest,” Sledge said. “I’ll take him to the guest house. You go on ahead, Hoosier.”

“You sure?” Hoosier asked.

“Go,” Sledge said, waving his free hand. “I think you’ve had enough of Leckie to last a lifetime.”

“Agreed,” Hoosier said, clearly delighting in the fact Leckie couldn’t reply.

If Sledge wasn’t such a decent man, Leckie would’ve bit through half his hand by now. As it was, he was willing to swallow his pride just this once, and concede to another. Sledge clearly knew more about what was going on here and Leckie didn’t fancy getting executed before bedtime.

“So, Shifty’s a wedding officiant,” Leckie stated after Sledge brought them inside.

“He’s a Goodfellow,” Sledge said.

Leckie choked on his own spit. “Like the Mob?”

“No,” Sledge said, “like a Robin Goodfellow. A Puck. They always oversee the weddings of the Sidhe and the Wizards.”

“If I wake-up suddenly in love with you for no discernible reason I’m going to be royally pissed off,” Leckie said, prying off his boots.

Sledge just laughed, the sound unburdened by its usual reserve

“This place is good for you,” Leckie observed.

Sledge sat down beside him with a small healing kit. “It’s a good place for anyone seeking a renewal of the spirit. It’s not a place to live, mind you; it’s easy to forget time, family members, everything other than joy and relaxation here. It’s not that the Sidhe are trying to trap anyone, it’s just their lifespans are so long that they don’t consider the passing of days as important as us.”

“Hoosier’s brought me to the Island of the Louts Eaters?” Leckie asked.

“Not quite,” Sledge said, “no one’s drugged here unless they want or need to be. It’s just easy to get lulled in by the smell, stories, songs, and the magic.”

“If I wake-up as a pig or with donkey’s ears I am going to kill someone,” Leckie promised. He tried not to wince as Sledge unwrapped his feet and applied the noxious smelling, stinging antiseptic.

“That will only happen if you go through with your honestly moronic plan,” Sledge said. There was no judgment in his tone, just fact.

“I have to try,” Leckie said.

“No,” Sledge said, looking up to meet his eyes, “you don’t. It’s one of those cases where the risk is greater than the reward, Leckie. The Sidhe might be able to get you back to our world, but they can’t guarantee when or where you’ll land.”

“I don’t belong here, Eugene,” Leckie said.

“But you could,” Sledge argued, “if you really bothered to try.” He dried Leckie’s feet with a clean towel and stood up. “Get some rest,” he ordered, “you might see things differently in the morning.”

“I doubt it,” Leckie said.

Sledge shrugged. “We’re not the only humans here. There’s a large festival that brings visitors from all over the Other Side. You might have a few guests who’ll change your mind.”

“Should I expect the first at midnight?” Leckie asked.

“Don’t be an asshole, Leckie,” Sledge said before leaving the room. He closed the door behind him, the click not at all ominous.

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