“Shhh! Please keep your voice down. We don’t wish to draw any unwanted attention,” Arrie whispered.
“Oh, right, right, I forgot,” she said.
“No. Time travel is something entirely different. You are one of the few people to have traveled through a vortex from one dimension to another...”
Arrie broke off as a woman brought three tankards of a strange drink, plunked them down on the table, and hurried off. Darian quietly took a sip.
“What is it?” she asked, pointing to her mug.
“It’s ale. Go ahead and try it.”
“No thanks.” She pushed it away. “What’s a vortex?”
“Let’s see, how do I explain this?” Arrie tapped his finger on the table. “Did you see three separate flashes of lightning? But without the thunder?”
“Yeah?”
He nodded. “Most definitely a vortex. You can imagine it as an invisible tube or funnel, shaped like a tornado, but you can’t see it until just before it’s about to open. Animals won’t go near them. They sense them better than we humans do.”
“And that’s why Siena freaked out?”
“Indeed,” he said, taking another sip.
“So that’s how I got here? Through a vortex?”
“That is correct.”
“Can you hold on for a sec?”
“Certainly.”
Marisa pushed herself away from the table, stumbled outside, and quickly glanced around the bustling main street. With no idea where she was going, she headed down a narrow alley. She spotted an octagonal-shaped rain barrel against the wall and hurried over. She inhaled a deep breath and dunked her head under.
She gasped from the shock of the icy water and collapsed on the ground. A few bewildered passers-by stopped to stare. Coughing, sputtering, and finally convinced she wasn’t dreaming, she ran a hand through her wet hair and glanced around.
“Where am I?” she shouted.
“Marisa, what are you doing back here?” Arrie said, hurrying over. He removed his tunic and threw it around her shoulders.
“I—I...” she began, her teeth chattered.
“Are you trying to make yourself sick? Come back inside.” He guided her shuddering frame back up the alley toward the main road.
She ran her hand along the rough-hewn stones in the wall. As she felt their roughness, she forced herself to accept the truth of her new reality.
“Arrie, am I dead?”
He shook his head and smiled. “You’ve had quite a shock, milady. It would be best if you rested for a while.”
They stepped back into the dimly lit reception area. The lounging travelers stared at them as they clutched their tankards, frozen in the same positions as when she’d left.
Darian pointed silently toward the stairs. She followed him up a narrow staircase and to the end of a dark corridor where he stopped to unlock a door.
The guest chamber was small but quaint. A single, octagonal window overlooked the busy main road. Darian opened it and fresh air drifted into the room along with the sounds of people, horses, and wagons. Marisa peered out across the valley up to the mountains from where they’d come, still trying to figure out where she was.
Arrie coaxed her into the chair as he leaned over to examine her temple.
“It’s just a small gash which should heal fairly quickly. Nothing to worry about,” he said with a smile. “Will you be all right here by yourself?”
“I guess so,” she managed.
He patted her hand. “Stay here and rest for a while. We’ll be back to fetch you for supper a little later. The proprietor was kind enough to find some clean clothes for you. Rest well, milady.”
Arrie followed Darian out into the hall and shut her door.
Marisa studied the strange, dark green walls of her room. Where was this Carnelia, anyway? She stared at the pile of clothes on the bed. What had she gotten into this time? What would her uncle think when she didn’t return after her ride?
Her head was pounding, and the blood pulsed through her neck. She closed her eyes, forcing herself to calm down. Then she remembered the bottle of aspirin in her satchel and removed a little white pill. She found a crude water pump in the bathroom and pumped it up and down, collecting just enough water to wash it down.
As she glanced up into the mirror, Marisa was startled by her pale, grimy reflection. There was a streak of dried blood on the side of her face, and her hair was disheveled.
She grabbed a small linen towel and moistened it to scrub the blood and dirt off. A tear ran down her cheek and then another. Unable to stop the flow, she threw the towel in the sink and collapsed onto the bed. Was it really only just this morning that they had buried her father?
She sobbed into her pillow and a wave of exhaustion consumed her. Her body, mind, and spirit had all been stretched past their breaking point.
CHAPTER 3
ANDRESIS
MARISA AWOKE TO THE sounds of soft flute music drifting up from below. The fact that she was no longer in Oregon came flooding back like a tsunami. She stood to look out the window.
The soft glow of street lanterns pierced the darkness. The street was still busy below, but all the shops had been closed. She peered up into the hills where they’d emerged from the forest and wondered what Mark and Uncle Al were doing. They were probably worried sick about her by now.
Marisa shut the window and spotted the pile of clothes still folded neatly at the foot of the bed. The two men would be returning for her soon and she needed to get dressed. She slipped into the corset-like underwear and pulled on the long-sleeved shirt. It felt odd until she realized it was on backwards. The dress was a scintillating shade of deep ocean blue, with a rich, royal feel to it, like thick velvet. When she tightened it around her waist by pulling on the drawstrings, she noticed how it flattered her figure.
A loud knock at the door startled her. It was Arrie.
“How are you feeling, milady?”
“Honestly? I feel as if I’ve just been hit by a Mack truck.”
“Trust me, that’s a perfectly normal reaction,” he chuckled.
She followed him down the stairs and through several other rooms before they entered a noisy, crowded dining hall.
The beamed ceiling was nearly fifty feet high. Gigantic wrought-iron chandeliers hung down and emitted a warm glow. A large stone fireplace created a welcoming, cozy atmosphere in spite of the enormous size of the room.
Marisa gasped when she spotted several trophy heads of a hideous, apelike wolf hanging along the walls. Each of the heads varied in size, but they all had the same sharp teeth and menacing yellow eyes. She hoped never to see one alive.
Arrie motioned toward a table in the far corner of the room where Darian chatted with a pretty young woman. The woman set a jug down on the table and when he said something to her, she smiled shyly at him.
As Arrie and Marisa sat, the woman quickly curtseyed and left to attend another table. Darian poured the ale into three large mugs and handed both of them one before raising his own.
“Ap eirie,” Darian said.
“Ap eirie,” Arrie said. “It means ‘here’s to fulfilling your destiny.”
“Cheers.”
Marisa was finally able to get a closer look at the handsome young ambassador as he sat across the table from her. At least six feet six, he had to have been one of the tallest men she had ever seen. She quietly admired the way his armored uniform emphasized his athletic physique.
He grasped the tankard with a strong hand and raised it to his lips. His square features were softened by the candlelight, but his countenance remained suspicious of her. His eyes intrigued her as they shifted nervously between staring into his cup, roaming around the room, and gazing directly at her.
“You seem to be in shock, milady. Are you well?” Arrie asked.
Marisa blushed. “No—I’m not. In fact, I think I may be going crazy,” she said. “How can I still be on the same planet but in a different dimension?”<
br />
Arrie took his napkin, folded it, and wrapped it around his tankard to demonstrate. “Think of it as many layers of cloth compressed tightly around a planet. The fabric is made up of hundreds of threads running parallel and perpendicular to each other. Each strand is distinct and separate from the others, yet they are all weaved together.
“If you were able to look down closely on those threads, you’d see that they lightly touch each other in certain places. Where they meet, they are compressed—overlapping slightly and essentially occupying the same space. Are you still with me?”
“Barely.”
“The thread or strand you are living on is one dimension, and we are on another. The vortex is the physical location in space and time where both worlds meet and overlap. You slipped through that vortex from your world into ours.”
“So according to your explanation, it’s possible for two different worlds to coexist in the same space at the same time?”
Arrie’s face brightened. “Not just two worlds—but many. You can’t see the other dimensions even though they’re right here, converging through the same space we’re occupying.”
She digested that for a moment. “So right now, there are people in other dimensions all around us?”
“Probably. We are oblivious to them, and they to us, and yet, they exist. Some call them parallel universes, but they aren’t skewed tangents of our own universe. In other words, there aren’t multiple versions of Marisa or Arrie running around out there as scientists in your world like to claim...” Arrie broke off as the woman returned with plates of steaming food.
Marisa was starving. She grabbed her fork and started to dig in but stopped when she noticed the others weren’t eating yet.
“We always give thanks to Garon before a meal,” Arrie said.
“Who’s Garon?”
“He is the author of the universe and of all things.”
She said nothing but set her fork down, bowed her head, and closed her eyes.
Darian began to pray, and although she couldn’t understand what he was saying, the sound of his voice was captivating. Commanding and deep, it matched his face perfectly. She listened as he spoke their strange language, noticing how well it flowed, without any harsh or guttural sounds.
When he finished, she opened her eyes. “So basically I came through some black hole?”
Arrie swallowed a mouthful. “No. You wouldn’t have survived a black hole. Those will rip you apart right down to the subatomic level.”
“Oh.”
“The vortex of which I speak is really more of a wormhole—except you didn’t go forward or backward in time, you simply passed from one dimension to another.”
She shook her head. “This is—nuts!”
“I understand your skepticism, milady, but I’m afraid it’s true. What most people fail to recognize is that they are constantly overlooking other dimensions all the time and don’t even realize it.”
She stopped. “What do you mean?”
His eyes narrowed. “Have you ever felt like you were being watched? Even though you knew you were alone?”
Marisa shuddered. “Yeah.”
“You just sense it. You know something is there even though you cannot see it, but you just feel a presence. Some people swear they’ve seen a ghost. Others call it paranormal activity or having a sixth sense. But in reality, these people have actually just caught a glimpse of someone or something in another dimension.”
“That’s just creepy.”
“Indeed. Most people choose not to believe in spiritual anomalies beyond their comprehension. It scares them to open themselves up to the possibility, so they simply deny their existence.”
“So a vortex is the only way between worlds?”
Arrie nodded. “As far as we know. Of course, we cannot predict exactly when and where a vortex will open—we only know certain areas have a higher rate of occurrence than others. Still, the chances of being in the right place at the right time to be drawn into a vortex are extremely small.”
Her eyes widened. “Do you mean to tell me I’m stuck here?”
“Perhaps not,” he offered. “Some have traveled there and back again.”
“Okay—but Arrie, there’s something that just doesn’t add up. How can a guy living in a world without cars, computers, or any kind of technology explain the theory of the vortex?”
“But it isn’t just a theory, it’s a scientific fact…” he trailed off.
She cornered him with her eyes. “You didn’t answer my question.”
Arrie shrugged. “The truth is, I traveled through a vortex into your world purely by accident. I lived there for a few years and attended a university where I studied quantum mechanics. Then, most unexpectedly, I was drawn back to Carnelia through another vortex.”
“Wow. And that’s why you can speak English so well—because you’ve been to my world?”
Arrie nodded sadly.
Darian eyed her suspiciously as he whispered something to Arrie. He hadn’t said much all afternoon, but she noticed that he couldn’t seem to take his eyes off her.
“Did anyone accompany you through the forest?” Arrie asked.
“No, I went riding alone.”
“Alone? What were you doing in those woods unescorted?”
“I’m almost eighteen. I can take care of myself.” She raised her tankard and took a sip.
Arrie shifted uncomfortably. “Indeed, milady. I meant no disrespect.” He quickly changed the subject. “That is quite a remarkable ring you’re wearing. In Carnelia, a ring such as yours symbolizes ownership. Does it hold particular significance for you?”
“Yeah, it was a gift,” said Marisa. Her eyes moistened.
“A gift from whom?”
“From a man I love very much.”
“Ah, I see.” Arrie and Darian exchanged glances.
Marisa gazed down at the magnificent ring made of rose gold. In its center, an exquisite teardrop-shaped diamond sparkled in the candlelight. Curled around the stone on both sides of the band were flowers containing three small diamonds nestled within.
“So, you say you’d just come from earth when we discovered you?” Arrie asked.
“Yeah—I think so. I mean, I may have been knocked out for a while before you found me.”
“Did you happen to see us before you fell off your horse?”
“No.” His question irked her. “And I didn’t fall off my horse. Something sucked me up into the air. I must’ve hit my head because it knocked me out. Next thing I know, I’m waking up to find the two of you above me. Why are you asking me that anyway?”
Arrie looked sheepish. “Our friend over here wants to make sure you’re not a spy.”
“A spy? He thinks I’m a spy?” She turned angrily to Darian. “Look, dude, I’m really sorry you’re stuck with me, but I’m not a spy!”
Darian glared at her for a moment and slammed his tankard down hard on the table. People stopped to look as he stood abruptly and headed for the door. He shoved a few coins in the proprietor’s hand and stormed outside.
Marisa’s jaw dropped. “What is that guy’s problem? I’m starting to think you should have just left me back in that forest. It’s pretty obvious I’m puttin’ you two out.”
Arrie sighed. “There are some things you should know about Darian, and if I were you, I would not be so hard on him. He’s been through some very trying times, and there are undoubtedly many more ahead.”
“Well that may true,” she said, drumming her fingers on the table, “but it doesn’t give him license to act like a jerk.”
“Do not take it personally. That man has a tremendous burden to bear for this country, and he is only trying to discern his friends from his enemies.”
“He seems pretty young for an ambassador,” she said. “Maybe he can’t handle the pressure.”
Arrie downed his ale and looked at her. “Marisa, we will do everything we can to help you return to this Jackson’s Ville; however, we
have a job to do and must be able to see it through.”
She smiled at his mispronunciation. “What job?”
“A very important job. And I am here to protect him.”
She was intrigued. “Protect him?”
“Yes, you see, Darian comes from a very influential family—the most powerful house in our country, as a matter of fact. He is of noble blood, with rank and a title, and must demonstrate absolute discretion with those whom he chooses to associate.”
She held up a hand. “Listen, Arrie—I don’t expect Darian to associate himself with me, but really, some common courtesy would be nice.”
“But if you would just—
“And I don’t appreciate the rude way he stares at me like I’m some kind of freak. I thought ambassadors were supposed to be, uh, you know—diplomatic!”
He shook his head. “It’s not like that. Darian’s duty is to protect our lands from those who are trying to tear it all apart. He has some very dangerous enemies, and there are even some in his own family who are trying to destroy him.”
“So what does all that got to do with me?”
“I’m only trying to show you things from his perspective. I happen to believe that you are just an innocent bystander in this scenario, but Darian, well—he can be slightly paranoid. He tends to err on the side of caution.”
“Slightly paranoid?”
“Milady, you must understand that he has every right to be suspicious of you.”
“Why? What do you mean?”
“Well, after all, it was a remarkable coincidence that we just stumbled upon you as we did up in those woods. It would be just like his opponent to send a beautiful woman to spy on him.”
Realizing that she may have been too quick to judge him, her shoulders sagged. Her father had always warned her about pre-judging people before she knew their background and circumstances.
“Marisa, I must caution you that this mission is vital to the survival of our society. At the very least, Darian must assume you’re a shrewd spy for the enemy disguised as a damsel in distress. At best, you’re an unnecessary distraction he cannot afford to have at this point.”
Arrie leaned back as a young man removed their plates.
The Carnelian Legacy Page 3