Not that the clothing she wore offered a clear picture of what he'd get in a physical sense. Her jacket was too thick and her slacks were loose. Still, the concealing garb made it easier to focus when the female finally answered his question.
“I don't know of this place. I don't even know what world I'm in, let alone where I am in it, and I was just about to ask if you could explain.”
Mikail found that response extremely unlikely. “How could you not know what world you're in? Didn't you use the portal sphere?”
“Yes, but we'd just located it, and I only came here because my companion was pulled through by that ogre you killed.”
He remained silent, weighing her statements carefully, and finally decided her story was convincing enough to be believable. It also explained how she'd found the portal sphere from the start.
One of the least used spheres in The Nexus was the one that connected with Terra if only because the human populace there was highly unaware of the supernatural. So any Dok'aal traveling to Terra had to concern themselves with blending in, and slip ups could lead to severe consequences with Terran authorities that his people didn't deem worth the risk.
But they did know the portal it opened led to an abandoned mine, and someone would've had to search meticulously to find it.
It was also highly probable that Nuguk had been in the courtyard for some time now, and perhaps he'd taken to triggering the spheres, either out of amusement, or in his search for food. Ogres were dense, but they did possess a general understanding of the way things worked, and it wasn't impossible to think he'd set the Terran sphere off a number of times, then pulled this female and her companion through when they'd appeared on the other side.
Further evidence lay in Marooga's mention of having another dolly, indicating this half elf wasn't the only woman they'd encountered.
“Do you know the dolly this ogre mentioned?”
“Not personally, but I was investigating her disappearance from Terra. If you don't believe me, Marooga's got a piece of her shirt tied around her hair, and you can probably find more of her clothing lying around this encampment.”
Her answer allowed him to relax, albeit marginally. Not only was her story coming together, she was also wearing an earpiece used in communication, and her sturdy boots and utility belt suggested she'd geared up to search for a missing person. So perhaps she truly had no interest in locating Satorala for outsiders.
Still, Mikail didn't drop his guard, asking, “Why were you investigating this disappearance if you didn't know the woman personally?”
Sighing, she inquired in turn, “Have you ever heard of The Crucible?”
At that, Mikail lifted his head in recognition. The Crucible was the biggest reason for his people's reluctance to visit Terra, being an Order that monitored supernatural activity there. They had limited interest in other worlds, and the only reason they'd ever visit Satorala would be if the Dok'aal somehow endangered Terra, or exposed humans to the supernatural.
So he silently nodded in confirmation to see what this woman would say next.
“I work for one of their organizations called The Bastion. We keep supernatural information from falling into human hands, and we were afraid the woman who'd disappeared might've stumbled across something accidentally. Turns out we were right.”
Though The Bastion was a name he didn't recognize, her answer was given too quickly to think she was lying. So it seemed the danger was truly minimal, prompting him to suggest, “If that's the case, you should return home now that you have your answers, and stay there.”
“I couldn't agree more,” she remarked sincerely.
Thankful to hear the eagerness in her voice, he finally removed the tip of his blade from her throat—which was easier to do than he would've liked. Indeed, holding her at sword point wasn't … pleasant, making it questionable whether he would've been able to act if she'd been aggressive.
But there was no reason to figure it out considering her impending return home—though threatening her wasn't the only thing bothering him.
While sheathing his blade on his belt, the woman sat up, then planted a palm against her temple with a low groan of pain. For some reason, the sound nearly prompted him to offer a hand and ask if she was well, and the only thing that stopped him was the immense confusion following his strange urge.
Why the hell should he care if she was well? Did it have something to do with her physical allure? No, beauty simply wasn't a reason to concern one's self with the welfare of a stranger, specifically a half elven stranger, and the thoughts redoubled his desire to see her go.
So when she asked if he'd show her where the sphere was located, he didn't hesitate.
Turning to lead the way, he decided to bring this incident up to the Satoralan Council in the hopes of getting a tighter watch on The Nexus, if not to prompt the elders to have the Terran sphere destroyed entirely—a task he'd perform himself if it was his place.
But The Nexus was too integral to his people to be tampered with without authorization. So for now, such an action was out of the question, and he stayed focused on the tasks at hand, particularly when the female caught up with him.
Her sluggish movements proved whatever blow knocked her unconscious from the start was more severe than normal, and despite his earlier thoughts on her physical state, he asked before he could stop himself, “Are you certain you're well?”
“I think I'm just mildly concussed. Hurts like a bitch, but I'll be okay with some painkillers and rest.”
Following the remark, she held two fingers in front of her face and added, “No double vision, so that's a good sign. Unless I only think I'm holding up two fingers.”
She glanced at him as if expecting a confirmation, and he sighed, then nodded. “It's two.”
“Good. By the way, what's your name?”
“Why do you care?”
“I wouldn't mind thanking the person who saved my life. Even if you threatened it afterward,” she added blandly.
He had to admit, that was a good reason. But Mikail didn't need her gratitude, saying so while waving a hand. “I wasn't aiming to save your life, just eliminating a threat.”
“Have it your way, big guy,” she muttered just as they reached the bridge leading to the castle gates.
On the way across, she gazed up at the old towers in awe, and such admiration seemed to grow stronger once they emerged in the courtyard where the portal spheres stood in a wide circle.
“What is this place, anyway?”
While he could understand her intrigue, he unceremoniously asked, “Would you rather wait for an explanation, or go home?”
She pursed her lips in his direction, then sighed as if lamenting a missed opportunity for information. But she didn't push, walking with him in the direction of the portal sphere to Terra—and that's when they both came to an abrupt halt.
… What the?
Whatever happened with Nuguk before Mikail's arrival, it'd obviously been volatile because where the Terran portal sphere once stood was now a large pile of rubble.
And the sight only fed Mikail's growing agitation. Why can things never be simple?
“Oh no, don't tell me … .”
Kivsey muttered the words upon spying the condition of the area she and Tyrone had engaged the ogre, a stone of dread as heavy as those now covering her only ticket out of here dropping to the pit of her stomach.
But maybe the sphere wasn't damaged so badly it wouldn't function, and she hurried ahead to crouch and start digging through the debris to find out.
Apparently, the Dok'aal had no compunctions over helping, either, though she doubted the assistance was motivated by concern for her well being.
Instead, he was probably just eager to get her on her way.
But his reasons didn't ultimately matter, and she put her full focus on uncovering the sphere, which they finally located still sitting upon the plinth—complete with a large crack now spanning the top of the smooth surface.
“Shit!” she cussed, immediately placing her hand on the sphere to try opening a portal despite its condition.
But it remained stubbornly inactive.
Realizing she was, indeed, stranded in this world, Kivsey's ass smacked down against the floor in dismay while muttering, “Whoever said there'd be days like this wasn't fucking whistling dixie.”
At that, the Dok'aal stared at her in confusion. “ … Whistling dixie?”
“Never mind,” she groaned, her eyes sliding shut with a wave of fatigue overcoming her.
Such lethargy was likely caused by her head injury, yet Kivsey refrained from taking the healing tonic. Tyrone had a flask of gin on his belt, and though it wasn't her drink of choice, the tonic tasted like shit and needed a chaser.
So for now, she focused on learning her location.
“Well, now that I'm gonna be here a while, would you mind telling me what world this is and if you know of anyway I can get home?”
The big male was scowling, obviously just as bothered by her situation as she was. But thankfully, he didn't refuse to answer this time, and the information actually chased a good bit of her pessimism away.
“You're in Ithelyon.”
“Ithelyon?” she inquired optimistically. There's some good news, at least.
Though she'd never visited before, this world was a sister realm to Terra, and in fact, over half the supernatural inhabitants there called it home. As such, there was a great deal of traffic between the worlds, meaning she'd only have to find her way to the closest major city and locate another portal sphere to return.
Still, that did present a problem. Considering they were in a cavern of some type—if not entirely underground—a long walk seemed like a guarantee, and there were very likely to be predators she'd have to avoid on the way.
The types of creatures indigenous to Ithelyon were usually extremely dangerous to a human such as herself as well.
The thought reminded her of the gun she'd dropped when Nuguk knocked her out, and she pushed herself up in an attempt to locate the weapon amongst the stones.
In the process, the Dok'aal asked, “Why are you so pleased?”
“Because it won't be as hard as I'd thought to find an alternative way back. So if you wouldn't mind giving me just a little more information, where's the closest city?”
The Warlord didn't answer at first, prompting her to look back and see that he seemed to be considering the options. So she continued her search for her gun, and found Tyrone's first, which had been damaged by the same stones that broke the portal sphere.
However, hers was close by, fully in tact along with her glasses, and she quickly donned the eyewear before inspecting the piece, finding it undamaged and ready to go.
Or it was—until the Dok'aal snatched it from her hand.
“What are you—hey!”
Her exclamation came the Warlord bent the barrel with his bare hands, then tossed the piece aside.
Kivsey stared, so baffled by the action that she couldn't stop herself from demanding, “What the hell did you do that for?”
“Guns are forbidden in Ithelyon,” he returned seriously.
Immediately, her shoulders slumped in defeat. He was right, the governments of Ithelyon had banned a good bit of Terran technology from being utilized in this world, and guns were right at the top of the list.
But that certainly didn't help her cause, and she had no trouble pointing it out.
“Then how the hell am I supposed to travel? Those ogres were a pretty damned good indication that I'll need some kind of protection.”
“Are you trained with blades?”
“Uh, no,” she returned flatly. “That kind of fighting is generally considered obsolete in Terra, and people usually only take it up under special circumstances.”
“Obsolete,” he muttered, scoffing as if the thought rankled. “So any idiot can pull a trigger and take a life, but those trained to respect the art of fighting do what? Use their skills for show?”
“Not always, and I'm not up for a weapons debate right now. So can you point me in the right direction or not?”
Finally, the Dok'aal answered, “To reach the closest city, you'd have to make your way to the surface first, then travel three hundred sartos through the mountain passes to reach it.”
“And how far is a sartos?”
He thought it over, then replied, “I believe the Terran equivalent is a kilometer.”
Kivsey's jaw dropped. “That's the closest city?”
“The closest large enough to find what you need.”
Scowling—which didn't help her headache—she asked, “What about you? I'm sure you didn't travel all that way just to kill two ogres.”
“No, I didn't, but you wouldn't be welcome where I'm from.”
Kivsey stared blankly with only one thought coming to mind. Then it is hopeless.
Perhaps it was the sense of despair the notion caused, the throbbing in her head, or a combination of the two, but she suddenly turned and dry heaved over the floor. Thankfully, there wasn't much on her stomach to throw up, but the muscle spasms only worsened her condition.
Letting a low groan over the way her skull throbbed as a result, she carefully pushed herself up, then mentioned, “Thanks for the information, and the help.”
“What are you doing?”
Groaning, Kivsey took slow steps away and answered, “First, I'm gonna give Tyrone a proper burial, then get ready to travel. Those ogres had an encampment by the lake, so maybe there's some actual edible food lying around, or some other supplies I could use that'll help.”
“You're not in any condition to—”
“I don't have a choice,” she interrupted, steadying herself by placing a hand against the door frame once she reached the exit, then looked back to ask, “Besides, why do you care?”
For all intents and purposes, the Dok'aal looked as if the answer was beyond him, and instead of trying to explain it, he silently made his way to the door and left her behind.
Kivsey watched him go with the keenest urge to stop him overwhelming her. But it was obvious from the start that he wanted as little to do with her as possible, and wasn't inclined to offer any direct help.
So she bit her tongue as he disappeared into the darkness of the cavern, then made her way back to the ogre's encampment with every intention of accomplishing the tasks laid out before her.
Still, she knew the Dok'aal was right—she wasn't in any condition to start traveling, or even bury her companion. Instead, she'd need to rest first, and the most she felt capable of doing in that moment was covering Tyrone's body and shutting his eyes, apologizing all the while for her inability to save him.
Following that task, she grabbed his flask and immediately pulled the healing tonic from her pouch. Taking it with a long swig of gin, she found the alcoholic beverage actually cut through the offensive aftertaste, which was usually too stubborn to quickly fade.
Now it was just a matter of getting rest until the magic concoction could work, and she had a brief look around the encampment for anything that might be useful. Sadly, there wasn't much aside from leftover bones, a few pieces of molding fruit, and a red blazer near the shore of the lake—another of Carla's belongings.
But Kivsey did find a small pocketknife strapped to Tyrone's boot, and took it to have some measure of protection.
With the weapon in hand, she removed her jacket, then rolled it up to use as a pillow and occupied a spot next to the fire, though it was questionable if sleep would come easily. Her current surroundings were too dubious to allow for much relaxation, and the only comfort available was in realizing The Bastion wouldn't be content to let her disappearance go.
They'd send someone to find out what happened, and employ a mage to determine where the Terran sphere led, then open a portal to this place to find her.
Still, that probably wouldn't happen for several days. So before she started searching for a way home, she'd have to leave a mes
sage telling anyone who came looking that she was alive and trying to get back.
But that was a task to be accomplished later as Kivsey passed out while trying to determine how to pull it off.
CHAPTER FOUR
♦
The entire way out of The Nexus, Mikail cursed himself for his apparent lack of luck.
All he wanted to do was return to Satorala, inform the Council that the ogres had been dispatched, and then prepare to enter the competitions. But instead, an irritatingly intriguing woman had been stranded, and as much as he wished they could go their separate ways, doing so would cause a number of unwanted complications.
The first was the possibility that she'd accidentally find Satorala while searching for a way home. Mikail didn't think it was likely—humans were too weak to survive the Vrellan Caverns for long, part elven or not—but there would be hell to pay if he returned and informed the Council that he'd allowed an outsider to wander the caverns and potentially discover their home.
On the other hand, killing the woman was an option, but he wasn't convinced her demise would solve the issues if only because of The Nexus.
Though the portal sphere was now broken, another still existed in the Terran mine. It wouldn't function without being able to connect to its sister sphere, but all it would take to change the story was magic, meaning a mage could fix the problem and open a portal for anyone looking for the stranded human to walk through.
So a number of people could be searching these caverns in mere days, and the male human's demise would cause enough trouble in itself.
Of course, there was no guarantee anyone would come looking, but this stranded woman worked for The Crucible, and if rumor of the organization's reputation were true, they wouldn't let this go, making the risk too great to ignore.
This left Mikail no other choice but to take her to Satorala—blindfolded—and alert the Council so they could decide what to do. Besides, the situation was unique enough that he could easily envision the Council, or even the Chancellor himself, wishing to speak with this human personally.
So like it or not, they were stuck together.
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