My Grad School Submission.

[pixiemimi]

Hey everyone. Long time no post. Here is my grad school submission. It's due SOON. So, please critique it. PLEASE. To all of you in the same communities as me, I'm sorry for the cross post. I just want to get as many voices on this as possible.

Sara took one look at the history homework sprawled all over her bed decided against doing it. She pushed it off her bed onto the floor and collapsed onto the soft mattress. It was almost three in the morning, and she knew that she wasn't going to get anything done anyway. Dammit, she cursed herself, Why did I let Rune talk me into coming up there? I had a ton of stuff to do tonight. Of course, she knew the answer to that. Folly of Raedeman had just come out, and in the grand tradition of computer geeks everywhere, Rune had to have it. So, Sara had gone with him and his roommate Devon to the mall, and then come home and watched Rune play the game, while Devon read a lengthy volume on Genetics in Modern Society. She thanked her lucky stars and whatever else was out there that her own roommate had received an extra day off of classes and had decided to go home for the weekend. Sara didn't want to think about the fit that Jess would have thrown to see her walking in at 3 am. She was exhausted, but she slept fitfully that night. She couldn't get the game out of her head. She couldn't understand why. Rune was right; it was kind of boring. I mean, for something that GenXGamerZ touted as the number one game of the season, Sara thought, I'd at least expect better graphics. The game had been pixilated, like the first Raedeman games that had come out. The plot was completely unbelieveable, and the sound effects had been so bad that Devon got annoyed and had to leave the room. At about six o'clock, her drooping eyelids finally dragged her into a dreamless sleep that was interrupted two hours later by loud pounding coming from her ceiling. What the hell are they doing up there? she wondered. She checked her watch. It was five to eight. I am going to kill Rune, she thought, rolling out of bed.
She grumpily wandered out into the hall and up the stairs. Opening the door, she grumbled, "Rune, what the hell…?" and blearily made eye contact with the frightened horse. "Ok," she replied. She closed the door. Just outside the room, she stopped, and what she had just seen began to register in her mind. There was a horse in Rune's room. A horse! Correction, there were two horses in the room: a black one with brown streaks in its mane and a golden one. Both were staring at her, wide-eyed. Their ears were pinned back. Sara smiled, chuckled to herself and wandered back downstairs to her room, mumbling. "It's just a dream, Sara. You'll go back to your room, you'll lie down, and then, you'll wake up. Everything will be normal, and you will be late."
She entered her room and curled up in her bed again, but the noises upstairs continued, each hoof beat pounding into her brain even though she squeezed her eyes shut. "Sara, the renowned adventurer! May I travel with you?" an eerily familiar voice popped up from the bed next to her. Sara rolled over and screamed at the top of her lungs as the giant frog thing leaned over her shoulder. She fell out of bed, scrambling away from it, chanting "No, no, no, no, no, this can't be happening, this can't be happening," as if somehow the mantra would make everything return to normal.
She peered over at the bed. The frog thing was still sitting there, smiling wickedly at the end of her bed. It couldn't really be called a frog exactly, although it had distinctly frog-like features-large bulbous eyes, slimy, mottled green skin, and webbed feet. But it was bigger than any frog that Sara had ever seen, and it was wearing a maroon waistcoat. Its long legs were swinging over the edge of the bed. "Are you all right, Sara?" the creature asked.
Sara shook her head. "It's just a dream," she told herself. "You're just dreaming of that stupid game. If you go along with it, you'll wake up, and maybe you'll have learned a thing or two to tell Rune." She smiled slightly. "He'll think you're psychic or something."
She stood up, and the frog creature hopped off of her bed. "Sara, the renowned adventurer! May I travel with you?"
"Sure," she replied, pulling on a pair of shoes. "I don't know why you think I'm some kind of renowned adventurer though, I haven't even been off campus."
"All of Aranon knows of your deeds, Sara," the frog replied.
She nodded. "Right," she replied. She walked out the door, taking her keys with her. She walked down the stairs and out the exit. She wasn't quite sure where she should go, where to lead the frog thing. She vaguely recalled something in the school handbook about off-campus visitors being required to wait in the cafeteria if the people they were visiting didn't escort them. Somehow, she didn't think that the rulebook meant in this case, but she headed toward the cafeteria anyway. "My two best friends are horses," she complained to the frog thing. "I hope you have a good idea why." She glanced sideways at it, but it just continued to grin as it hopped along beside her. Sara turned her thoughts to Rune and Devon. Maybe they weren't really her two best friends; she was closer to Rune than she was to Devon because in geek terms she was more like Rune than Devon. She was a computer geek, which of course, explained why she was having strange dreams about a video game that she'd been playing up until three in the morning the night before. Devon was a science nerd, and a good one at that. His greatest aspiration was to be either a genetic engineer or an astrophysicist. He was the kind of nerd that asked the teacher for extra homework, who wore a pocket protector; Devon was the kind of nerd that was always picked on in high school. It was only through the housing department's sweeping assumptions about all nerds that caused Devon and Rune to be roommates, but Sara liked him well enough. And he always hung out with them. As Sara and the frog thing neared the cafeteria, Sara recognized another figure from the game cantering toward her. It was the gray horse. "Sara, --"
"Yeah, yeah, I am unchanged," she interrupted. "Can we just cut to the chase here?"
The frog thing hopped up onto her shoulder.
"Ew! Get off," Sara cried, shoving it away.
The horse's nostrils flared, and it snorted. "Get away, demon."
"She's mine," the frog hissed. "My traveling companion."
The horse eyed Sara. "Is this true?" it asked.
Sara shook her head, and her dark hair tumbled around her shoulders. "No, listen, the truth is, I woke up, my best friends were turned into horses, I'm having this crazy dream that I've been sucked into Folly of Raedeman which is, of course, utterly stupid, and the frog, or the demon or whatever just showed up in my room. I agreed to take it with me because I thought it might help me. If you can tell me what the hell is going on here, I'll travel with you instead."
The horse nodded, but the frog laughed maniacally. It began turning white, its face growing skeletal as its eyes disappeared from their sockets. Its clothes became rags, and it grew long claws from its hands and feet.
"That's just gross," Sara said, backing away from the frog thing, as it lumbered toward her. Its empty sockets were more menacing than any eyes could be, and Sara felt that feeling in the pit of her stomach. It was a kind of uneasy twisting; it pulled against her insides, trying to inwardly drag her away. Even her spine seemed to stretch out, trying to pull her backward. That hurt, Sara closed her eyes trying to block out the pain of her spine twisting against the rest of her body, which she tried to keep a firm grasp over. Are nightmares supposed to be this painful? What have I gotten myself into? Sara wondered. It's just a dream, she tried to reassure herself. Whenever I've done whatever it is that Rune was supposed to do in the game. I'll wake up. It wasn't like she was rooted to the spot by any mind-numbing fear; she wasn't that much of a wimp. After all, the thing only came up to her knee. Sure it could easily swipe those curling claws and slash across her knee or hop up onto her shoulder again and drag those claws across the flesh of her throat, but she could fight it, at least that's what she told herself, as her legs tottered uneasily.
She wasn't buff by any stretch of the imagination. In fact, Rune had frequently teased her that she was wiry. Still, she squared her shoulders and tossed her short, black hair. Nothing this small was going to get the best of her.
The horse was quicker to act than Sara. It sprung forward, with a whoosh that left her even unsteadier on her feet. She toppled over and watched in horror as the horse leapt in the air, bring its forelegs down on the frog thing and dashing it into the concrete. Her stomach did flip-flops, stretched and elongated at the sight of the frog thing becoming no more than a pile of bones, black blood, and mush. In the midst of the frog thing's broken body, a light blue object shimmered.
Sara groaned, and putting her hands on the ground. Somehow she felt better that way, her legs were less shaky. Her skin tingled as dark hair had sprouted up in thin patches all over her arms and legs and face. Her neck itched and she tilted her head toward her chest in an effort to scratch it. Her ears felt like they were being pulled up to the top of her head, and when she put her hand over them, she found that they were pointy and worst of all, hairy. Even her feet were killing her; they were scrunching together as if she was trying to fit them into a smaller and smaller high heel. She rocked back into a sitting position and the sound of cloth ripping almost made her cry. "What is happening to me?" she managed in a weak voice.
"It is the change," said the horse wisely. "Try and fight it."
Sara nodded, clutching her stomach. The horse gingerly began poking the frog thing's body with its nose, as if he was looking for something. A few minutes later, he returned to Sara, holding a necklace in his mouth. It had a beautiful blue pendant on it that shimmered silver when it caught the light. Its setting was a silver image of a butterfly spreading its wings. He dropped the pendant into Sara's hands. "An amulet of true self," he said. "They're very rare and precious, they're used to keep or mask your true identity. Put it on, and it should stop the change."
Sara dropped the necklace around her neck and felt instantly better, but things were slightly off. She noticed that her hair and face were both longer, and that she was leaning forward diagonally. Her ears, she could feel were higher on her head, coming to a point at the end, and flicking in annoyance. "Is it going to reverse the change?" she asked, as she tried to stand up and found her legs and feet still trembling. When she finally did stand up, a quick pat of her butt ascertained her worst fears. Not only was it furry down there, it was also a lot bigger, busting out of her jeans. Embarrassment tinged her cheeks read and spread like a flame over her face. Not one of those naked dreams, she pleaded with herself, knowing that this was unlike any naked dream she'd ever had, but probably not like any that anyone had ever had.
The horse shook his head, and his silver mane whipped over his neck. "I fear the only thing that will reverse these changes is to rescue the duchess."
"The duchess?" Sara asked. God, I'm having weird dreams, she thought.
The horse nodded. "She is trapped in the form of a white mare, on an island in the heart of the land. I will take you there, but you must hurry. I do not know how long I can stave off my own change."
"So let's go," Sara said.
The horse eyed her warily. "Surely, you are unprepared for such a quest," he said. "You have no armor, no weapons."
"Oh," Sara replied; she'd been hoping that this dream would just magically end and provide her with all the answers. "Well, I guess I better go get some."
She ran up to her room. Her first steps had discarded her shoes, and she found that her feet were hard and compact, horse's hooves. She half walked, half crawled the stairs up to her room. What the hell can I use as armor and weapons? she wondered. She opened the door to her room and did a quick survey of its contents. In a flash, she grabbed her flashlight, a wooden curtain rod, and a pair of scissors, a kitchen knife and some aerosol hair spray. She'd seen a movie like that, where the hero defeated a group of vampires with a can of aerosol spray. She had no idea what to do about armor though; she guessed that her jeans and a leather jacket would have to do and quickly threw the leather jacket over her shoulders, jamming the rest of the stuff into her book bag. Then something occurred to her, shouldn't she let Rune and Devon out? Dream or no dream, she had no idea how long the quest would actually take, and she didn't want them to starve or kill each other or anything. She had a feeling that even if they were horses Rune and Devon would still need their space.
After quickly opening her friends' door, she rushed down the stairs and joined the horse. She hoped that would at least do some good for them, but she doubted it; the horses had just stood there, huddled in a corner near Devon's bed, when she'd opened the door. "I'm ready to go," she proudly announced, but the horse was busy, eating daffodils out of the quad garden. "Hey, horse," she said louder. "I said I'm ready to go."
The horse still ignored her. With a frustrated sigh, she shoved it away from the daffodils. Its head jerked up. "Oh, you're ready then," was its reply.
Sara glared at the horse. "Listen, just the quicker we get this over with, the quicker everything will go back to normal right?" she asked, her mouth danced around the words with her teeth and tongue knocking uncomfortably against each other. To her own ears, Sara sounded stupid; the sentence was malformed and slow, but the horse understood her, at least she thought he did.
He dipped his head, and she supposed that would have to do for a nod.
"Lead on," she snapped.
The horse looked at her balefully, and then began to amble away.
With an irritated toss of her head, Sara clip-clopped after him, wondering why she hadn't seen any other people, or horses around. Anything had to be better than this stubborn, non-communicative ass of a horse. She also wondered why he could talk when it was clear that the other horses, like Rune and Devon, could not. She picked up her gait. "Hey horse," she called.
The horse stopped, nearly causing her to collide with his rear end, as she tried unsuccessfully to skid to a stop. These hoofs were going to drive her crazy. They were so foreign and difficult too. Whatever they were made of was slick, and caused her to slide awkwardly on the concrete. She slammed into the horse's rear end. He jerked forward, and she flailed wildly for a few seconds before regaining her balance. "You could have warned me," she said angrily.
"You called," the horse replied. "I answered."
"Can't you talk and walk?" she asked.
"Of course," the horse replied, and continued walking up the pathway.
"Speaking of talking, how come you can talk, and the other horses I've run into can't?"
Sara had never seen a horse shrug, but she assumed that what the horse did was the horse equivalent of a shrug. His shoulder muscles rippled for a second, and that was it.
She rolled her eyes. "How did this happen?" she asked. "I mean, how did you change? Do you remember?"
The horse made a left turn and passed through an archway into a parking lot behind the gym. Slowly, he began to speak. "I was in the barn," he said. "I had stayed in the tavern all night, and I was just getting ready to leave in the morning, brushing my horse, and saddling her up. Then, there was this evil cackle of laughter. I don't know where it came from. It echoed through the barn, and it frightened me. That's when my horse and I suddenly began to change places." His voice cracked.
Sara looked at him, startled, just in time to see a large tear roll down his nose. She put her hand on his flank, stroking him.
"It was a slow process, but nothing could be done to stop it," he said. "I just sat there and watched my horse steal my body."
Sara found herself wondering what he looked like before the transformation, but she didn't ask. Why dredge up even more memories? She didn't want to admit it, but the fact that the horse had started crying made her more than a little uncomfortable. After all, he was supposed to be gruff and stubborn and all knowing. That's what a guide was, wasn't it? She pictured him as a human. He was silver, so according to Sara's observations that meant he had to have silver hair. Sara pictured a crotchety old man with long gray hair and a gruff, craggy face, saddling up his horse after a long night in…. a tavern? That part didn't make sense. What kind of person spends his nights in a tavern? she speculated. She slowly edged away from the horse, doubting whether it was a good idea to actually be following this guide anyway.
They walked out of the parking lot and onto another path that led past the College of Arts building. Through its glass doors, she saw more horses milling around and wondered if she should open the doors for them, but the horse's steady pace kept her chasing after him. She abruptly changed the subject. "If we're going to be traveling together, I think I should know your name," she said. "I'm Sara."
The horse shook his head. "Names are precious in Aranon," he said. "To give someone your name is to give them a kind of power over you."
She raised an eyebrow. "So what do you do?" she asked. "Go by personal pronouns, that's gotta be confusing." She imagined walking into a crowded room and having to address someone as "You". However, having gotten no reaction from the horse, she pressed. "Well, we're not in Aranon, Toto," she said. "We're in good old V-A."
The horse snorted.
"Well, at least in some aspects," she conceded. "I mean people don't just go turning into horses here, but I'm still not convinced that this whole thing isn't a stupid dream."
The horse nodded slowly. "If it helps," he said.
"Why are you so convinced that it's this Duchess thing?" Sara asked. "I mean you weren't even there."
The horse shrugged its horse shrug again. "I've heard tales," he said.
"So there," Sara announced triumphantly. "Your tales are no more concrete than my dream. Hell, we could be going after this duchess for nothing."
The horse stopped again, sending her skidding on the pavement.
"Goddammit," she cried. "I told you to warn me when you do that!"
"Would you rather go back?" the horse asked.
She considered this for a moment. "No," she said. "At least if we're trying to find her, we're making an effort, right?"
"Very well," the horse replied.
They continued on, and Sara made no further comment. As they continued past the College of Journalism building, she noticed that the school was beginning to look less and less like her school and more and more like the terrain from the video game. Mountains loomed ahead of them. Storm clouds flashed around their tops, sending out flares of purple lightening onto the black and stony summits.
"Where exactly is this Duchess?" she asked.
"Her castle is at the base of the Peaks," the horse replied.
Sara groaned, but it came out more like a whinny. "You mean we have to go that far?! Can't I just ride you or something? We'd get there faster, and my feet are killing me!"
The horse stomped his feet in protest, and tossed his head. "Absolutely not!" came the reply. "I am a human, not a pack animal."
"Could have fooled me," Sara murmured under her breath.
It was clear that the horse had decided to ignore her again, and that was pretty much how most of the journey to the Peaks went. There were sparks of conversation in which the horse revealed absolutely nothing about himself, and then there was arguing and silence. Sara contented herself with watching the university give way to Aranon, the practice fields melting into farmland. She was in awe when they neared Eastnor, a dorm, only to find it melt into the horizon. The mountains, too, were getting closer, and Sara began to make out a castle that was situated at their base. It was sparkling white, or at least it looked that way, and its blue and silver banners were tossed in the winds of the tempest.
When they finally reached the castle, they found two men and two horses guarded its gates. Sara wanted to run away, as her strange form drew their curious eyes toward her. She did the best she could to hide her bulging backside from view and pulled her hair down tightly around her ears. She became fidgety, trying to hide alternately the parts of her body that she found most disgusting. Dammit, I'd have to pick now of all times to run into my dream guys, she thought, studying the men. "Dream guys" wasn't quite accurate, she realized. The men were good looking, they both had dark hair and finely set features, and they both had pretty nice bodies, from what she could tell, under their heavy armor. But they were acting really, well, weird, and Sara was sure that dream men didn't act like that. They were turning circles as if trying to chase imaginary tails and tossing their heads back and forth.
The horse moved forward and addressed the horses in horse-speak. There were some knickers and neighs, and on the whole, it bored Sara, who couldn't understand any of it. She sidled up to the man on her left, who was acting slightly less odd than the man on her right. "Hi," she said softly.
The man responded with a good impression of a whinny that made her feel even more self-concious. She ducked her head and moved away.
The gray horse turned toward her. "The guards are granting us passage," he said, "but they doubt that we will find the Duchess here."
Sara glanced at the men, the horse hadn't even talked to them, how could he have… then it hit her. Of course, the men and horses had switched places. The realization made her feel stupid. "Did you find anything else? Any clues as to how this happened?" she asked. She tried to sound vaguely authoritative, as if this would help to cover up her idiocy.
The horse dipped his head again. "They admitted a strange looking man yesterday," he said. "A small red-haired man with a mischievous cackle. He said that he was on urgent business from the king and queen."
"Did he leave?" Sara asked.
"They cannot be sure."
"Oh, that's just great!" Sara said. "For all we know, your king and queen could be like this, and he could be living it up in your capitol city. Where is that anyway? Since we got out here, all I've seen is farmland. No cities, no towns, nothing but cute little farms, and now, this castle."
"The capitol is just over--" the horse began.
"Don't tell me," Sara interrupted. "Just over those mountains. And it'll a long and arduous journey, where I'll have to prove myself, right? Goddammit! Why did I let you talk me into this stupid quest?" She stormed away, the amulet of true seeing bounced hard against her chest as her angry steps increased in speed. She wasn't sure where she was going; she just knew that she had to get away, to find a way to wake up. She didn't want to do this anymore.
When it hurt too much to stomp anymore, she curled up near the castle wall. Tears were beginning to well up in her eyes. No, she told herself. I won't cry. She shoved the offending drops across her face with the heel of her hand, and wiped her nose with its back. She felt powerless, like a little kid. I won't cry, she repeated. I'll just wake up. She squeezed her eyes shut and wrapped her arms around her chest; she willed herself back to a world where she was probably at least fifteen minutes late for class, a world where Rune encouraged her to blow off homework to play computer games. She pictured Devon's shy smile, his blue eyes, his glasses, and she pictured Rune's devilishly good looks. None of it helped though, every time she opened her eyes, the world of Aranon still stretched out in front of her and the thunderstorm roared overhead.
Stupid game, she cursed. Why was I up so late? I'm probably exhausted. That's why I can't wake up. But she had that feeling in the pit of her stomach again, a kernel of doubt that began to grow with her repeated attempts at wakefulness. Maybe this wasn't a dream.
She heard the horse approaching, and tried to bury her head in her chest. It nuzzled her softly; she ignored it. It tried again, and this time, she turned around, grasping its nose and erupted into sobs. "Keep up hope," the horse encouraged. "We will find a way to return both of our worlds."
She nodded, sniffling.
"Be assured that you are not alone in your quest," he continued. "I am at your side."
Somehow, this made her feel a little better, and she smiled slightly. "What were you like… before?" she asked.

***

Kerry sighed as he approached the old church. The roof was falling down, and the crumbling wall around the building was less of a barrier than a sign that the monks at Bogen had fallen on hard times. Unfortunately much of the kingdom was like from what he could tell. His brother's departure had created a strange schism and because of it the kingdom was rapidly deteriorating.
On his journey from his castle at the vase of the mountain, he'd passed through small towns and a collection of neatly pastured lands to arrive at this church. Everything about the place seemed to have a dim, musty cloud around it, a kind of sadness or nostalgia. There were no farmers at work on their crops, no children playing in the town's streets. The only sounds that Kerry heard were the constant rush of water from the river that flowed beside his path and the toll of the church bell.
It all annoyed him. Why would Aranon fall so quickly from prosperity over the absence of one head strong little boy, a boy who would not even rule his family's estate? The question frustrated Kerry throughout his journey. He also was angry at the uproar that his mother was causing over Devon's disappearance. He jerked at the reins, and his horse turned its head and bit him on the knee. He batted its nose away and dismounted.
Kerry entered the churchyard through rusty gates, the smell of peat biting his nostrils. The gravestones spilled out before his eyes, which welled up with hot, angry tears. He quickly wiped away the tears, chiding himself for the momentary lapse of manliness and drew himself up. With determined steps, he negotiated the small path toward the rotting church doors.
When he reached them, he grasped the tarnished brass handle in a shaking hand. Then, sighing once more, he opened the door. A loud creak of the door's rusty hinges announced his arrival. The vestibule was empty. For a moment, Kerry feared that the monks had fled, leaving the church to rot away silently, but a quick, but a quick rustle of robs and the padding of slippered feet assuaged his concern.
From above him, he heard the weary voice of Brother Grimn, the head monk of Bogen. "Come in, child. You must be tired from your journey."
With a dip of his head, Kerry entered. He was shocked to find that Brother Grimn was nowhere in sight.
"Up here, son," Brother Grimn said. Kerry spun around and looked up at the choir loft where the monk was working hard at polishing the pipes of the pipe organ. "Grab a polishing cloth. I just brought a bunch more up here."
Kerry took the stairs two at a time.
"There's been so much to do recently," the monk said.
"Brother," Kerry began.
"Yes, yes, I know all about your brother," said Brother Grimn. "He's not what concerns me. What is most upsetting is your mother."
Kerry's eyebrows furrowed. "My mother?"
The man nodded, his wispy gray curls wafted after him. "It is her single minded devotion to finding Devon that is causing this downward spiral. If we do not act soon, she will bring us to ruin."
"Then we must find Devon," Kerry said. "Put mother's fears at ease."
The monk sighed and shook his head. He breathed softly on one of the pipes. His breath created a thin layer of condensation on the brass. "If we are able to bring Devon back before your mother, can we avert disaster?"
Kerry bit his lip. The plan worked in theory. Drag the sniveling brat home before he could do any more damage. The problem was that no one was sure where he had disappeared. His mother had employed countless sorcerers to find Devon to no avail.
"Chin up, son," the monk put a meaty, pockmarked hand on Kerry's shoulder. "I know someone who might be able to help you." He clapped kerry on the back and pushed him forward. "One of my parishioners had a similar situation. A barkeep. She can offer some suggestions."
Kerry frowned. His mind eagerly conjured up images of dark, seedy taverns steeped in shadows with all manner of suspicious characters. The barkeep in his imaginings became a surly old woman with frazzled hair and missing teeth.
"Oh come now, Lord Raedeman. Are you really so naïve as to see the world with only those eyes," the voice of Brother Grimn jerked Kerry away from his thoughts. The man was standing at the doorway, his arm stretched out, pointing. "The tavern you're looking for is called Muriel's Table. You're not looking for Muriel herself; you'd never find her. The lady you're looking for his her daughter, Heidi."
"Heidi," Kerry repeated, nodding.
"Yes. Follow the path to the bridge, cross the river, and you will be at the gates of Bogenton, as you know. Just inside the gates is Muriel's Table. It won't be difficult to find."
After thanking Brother Grimn, Kerry set out for the tavern. He was cheered by his visit wit the old man. It reminded him as he traveled silent paths, that life was still present. He arrived at Muriel's Table two dreary days later.
The day was gray and thunder rolled ominously. Kerry hung his head, and his dark hair fell damply forward. His eyelids were drooping, and his feet were swollen in his boots. He led his horse to the stables that adjoined the tavern. He gave a few gold coins to the lanky stable boy, and his horse was taken away. Kerry studied the tavern before entering.
It was a two-story building that was bright and cheery. Light from its windows spilled out into the dark street. Kerry walked into the inn. There were only three people in the common room, a blonde woman who was wiping down the bar, and two minstrels who sat in the corner, their instruments laid aside.
"What can I do for you?" the woman asked, smiling.
Kerry looked around. In the front of the room, a fire blazed in a large, stone fireplace. The rest of the room looked to be made of wood. The small tables that dotted the room were empty but clean. "I'm looking for Heidi," he said, turning back to the woman.
"You're looking at her," she returned.
Kerry's blue eyes grew wide. The girl was nothing like he expected. She had golden hair that glistened in the firelight. Her smile was bright and her hazel eyes sparkled. She had work worn hands but her skin was smooth and tan.
"You ok?" she asked.
Kerry blinked. "I'm sorry," he said. "It's just... you're... You're not what I expected."
She raised an eyebrow. "Thanks, I think," she replied. "Why are you looking for me?"
"Brother Grimn said you might be able to help me. My brother has gone missing."
She nodded. "Grab a stool, stranger. I'll tell you my story."