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by Zari Reede


  She rubbed against me like a kitten. Her hands squeezed my shoulders, but I felt something else. Glancing back, I watched a lock of hair pat and stroke my back.

  “Making me an offer I can’t refuse?” I did my best Brando, but she didn’t react. Something didn’t make sense. Scratch that, a helluva lot didn’t make sense, but even for a bizarre world, this chick scored high on the weirdo-meter. She lifted me from the chair and dragged me back to the window. Damn strong for a damsel in distress.

  “I don’t suppose you have any threads for me to wear.” When I got the inevitable look of confusion, I gestured at my state of undress, plucked at her sleeve, and tried to look like I was asking a question. Probably, I looked constipated. I stink at charades.

  “Oh! I have something that may suit.” She rummaged in a chest and came back with a black robe. As I wrapped it around me, she warned, “There is a wicked witch who lives in the castle. The sky darkens and the robe will help hide you, but make haste and tread with care.”

  I resembled an under-dressed Dracula, but I was mostly covered. I swung my legs over the sill.

  “Now, don’t fret, I shall have you upon earth in a thrice.” She gave me a shove, and I slid down a hair slide. The ride was over fast. I didn’t have time to scream, nor had I been prepared for the end. Yet again, I landed hard on my tookus.

  I could barely see ’Punzel as she leaned out the window and shouted to me. “Be quick! I shall anxiously await you!” She then disappeared.

  The wind whipped the hem of my short robe, baring my shoeless feet and hairy shins. I am in decent shape, so it wasn’t binding, but the sleeves were too short. A storm was rolling in. Dodging the occasional horse pucky, I jogged to the stable. The strong wind made it a struggle to open the door. After I entered, it slammed shut behind me. Straw drifted around my feet, then settled back to the hard dirt.

  I was surprised to find several kerosene lamps lit and hanging from pegs around the room. A horse snorted in one of the stalls. Other than ’Punzel, this was the first sign of life at the castle. Come to think of it, I didn’t remember seeing a bird or even a cat. I neared the stall. A beautiful Lipizzaner eyed me up and down, then neighed.

  “Shhhh! Cousin Itt’s wife in the tower says there’s some wicked witch around.” Yes, I spoke to the horse. I also talk to tangled shoelaces, water that’s slow to boil, test papers that continue to reveal wrong answers, and...you get the idea. “Well, Silver. I don’t have a freakin’ clue what to do.”

  The horse bumped the stall door and did a come-hither gesture with its head. What the hell, why not? On my way, I grabbed a high stool and parked it in front of her. I’m hoping it’s a her, because the mane and tail were festooned with pink braided ribbons and flowers.

  “Excuse me, Miss Silver. I assume it’s miss? Be a nasty, embarrassing trick to pull on a dude.” Crossing my arms, I tipped the stool back, and rested my head on the wall. I tried to remember every fact Mindy had ever let slip about her job. I knew people vanished then reappeared once ISMAT destroyed all the ORBs. Depending on the number of ORBs and the difficulty in hunting them, that could take hours or even days. She didn’t say for sure, but I suspected there were a few people who never showed up or came back dead. So, if I bided my time, I should eventually pop back home. I hoped. The castle grounds appeared safe. Well, certainly safer than outside the walls.

  “I think I am gonna hang out here with you, Miss Silver, until this storm peters out. I’m guessing you are the witch’s ride and I’m hoping she will avoid the stables until the weather clears.” Sliding a plank in place, I latched the barn doors, so if anyone came, I would at least get warning. I spied a ladder leading to a hay loft. Before I began the climb, I turned back to the white mare. “Good night, Miss Silver. Thanks for sharing your shelter.”

  Yawning, I climbed the ladder to the loft, piled hay into a half-ass pillow, and stretched out on my back. The stress and anxiety had exhausted me. I was sound asleep in minutes.

  I don’t know how long I slept. The alarm at home is set for five a.m., but the bright sunlight shown between the cracks of the slats, where parts of the barn wood rotted and fell away.

  “Guess my eight-thirty Honors course, Science in Medieval Culture is cancelled,” I muttered, bitter to miss one of my favorite classes. I enjoyed the intimacy of smaller honors and grad courses. I lowered my head through the opening. The hood on the stupid robe flopped forward and hay bits I acquired while sleeping showered me. “A-a-a-a-a-CHOO! A-a-a-a-a-CHOO! A-a-a-a--a-a-a-CHOO! Damn allergies.”

  During my quick peek, I hadn’t seen any sign of life, however if anyone was there, I made enough noise to wake the dead. Bad, bad thought, Nichols. Christopher Lee, get thee behind me! Things are already freaked beyond belief, don’t go asking for trouble. I rubbed my nose on my sleeve. Yeah, gross. Sue me. This barn isn’t equipped with boxes of Kleenex.

  I clamored down the ladder. “Morning, Miss Silver,” I said to the mare as I bowed. The Lipizzaner nickered, slipped one foreleg forward, and dipped her head. The stable doors were wide open, and the lamps dowsed. I checked the stable. The room only contained me and the horse.

  “Miss Silver, next time company comes a knockin’, could you maybe do the neighing thing?”

  I paced the length of the stable and ran my fingers through my hair. I’ve been told I resemble an older David Cassidy. A night in a barn with no comb, blow dryer, or hairspray reduced me to looking like Tiny Tim, hair wise--and no, I will not play a uke and sing “Tiptoe Through the Tulips.”

  In the years since I married, I have never spent a night away from my wife’s side. I missed her so much that it hurt. I was dying of thirst and my bladder was full. As I opened an empty stable door, I said, “You’ve been an excellent host, but I sure want to get back to my wife and daughter.” I gathered the robe up so I could relieve myself in the corner. “Aaah,” I sighed, letting loose a stream.

  “So, I think you know not where my cherished Winnalea is, and you are not here to free the wicked Rapunzel.”

  The voice made me jump and, as I dropped my prick and robe, I felt a trickle of urine land on my feet. “What the--crap.” I spun.

  A green-skinned woman, with ebony hair, opened the stall that had held Miss Silver. She wore a shimmering white gown. “Well, you can’t be an Orion slave girl, because you would be wearing less. Nice dress.”

  I opened the half door and stepped out into the main stable, hoping I looked braver than I felt.

  “I do not understand, but no matter. You will find Winnalea and return her.”

  “Umm, okay lady--news flash, where I come from green skin equals bad guy, unless you’re the Incredible Hulk--which you are not, and why should I do your bidding?” As an afterthought, I asked, “Who the hell is Whinny?”

  Chapter 8

  The Witch

  I had heard of other peculiar foreigners appearing and disappearing. In the past, it was a rare occurrence. Throughout history, we had benefited from such exchanges on occasion. Our common language was said to come from such an exchange, but the Blinks had slowly increased and, last night, many reported such visitations. Unfortunately, there had been many disappearances. Before, it was animals and such from our world. They were quick to vanish, quick to reappear. They usually were damaged, but Winnalea was no animal. Nor was the Cyclops leader who mated with his queen. One moment he was fulfilling his kingly duty, only to vanish soon after. Our treaty with them is fragile, and they are furious. The Cyclops queen remonstrated and threatened. They suspected us and the only reason there was not war was that they could not deny we suffered the same loss.

  I saw a man leaving the tower and transformed myself in the barn to observe him. Imagine my surprise when he spoke to me. Once he slept, I visited Rapunzel. She was agitated. I was curious. She obviously had expectations that did not materialize.

  “My apologies. From necessity, I misled you.”

  He backed from me, closer to the open door.

  “I am not yo
ur enemy.” I displayed my weaponless hands. “But are you our friend?”

  He stopped and watched me. “Okay, I’m willing to hear you out.” He lounged against the door frame and folded his arms. I smothered a smile. He really had no choice, but I appreciated a good bluff.

  “What would you know?” I asked.

  “How the hell do I get back to my family?” He practically growled the question.

  “I am sorry. I do not know.” Before he could interrupt, I continued. “I do know you will disappear and presumably return to your home. All the strangers have. I only ask that when you do, you try to find Winnalea. Our people usually return injured, dead, or not at all. Winnalea does not deserve such a fate.”

  “Lady, start from the beginning.” He yawned. “Sorry, my time here has been eventful.”

  “Apology accepted. The castle is in disrepair, but we can find a more hospitable place to talk. Would you accompany me?”

  “Any chance there would be a pair of pants and a tee I could borrow there?” He held the robe out and shook it.

  “You are welcome to look. The previous dwellers have no use for such things.”

  “That does so not sound good.”

  “It isn’t. Rapunzel’s rampage slaughtered most of the castle’s occupants.”

  “Damn--I knew that chick was batshit crazy.”

  He followed me at a fair distance, but follow me he did. I hoped he believed me. Rapunzel had spent time with him, and she was a wicked, clever being. She was my sister, so I could not bear to execute her when I should have, despite her many sins. Growing up, everyone loved dear Rapunzel. Though we were fraternal twins and equally powerful, I was not a favorite of Rhineguard. She had the honeyed skin of the fairies, and lips the color of ripened plums. Nanny adored her, and left me in the crib to cry. People were drawn to Rapunzel’s charming allure. They did her bidding, one by one, until she used them up and discarded their vulnerable carcasses.

  I was interested in this man’s resistance to my evil sister’s bidding. Most men would have tripped over their own cocks, to have retrieved the rope from the stable, and release poor ’Punzel. This man, spoke gibberish, and couldn’t be understood completely, but there was an aura surrounding him that vibrated loyalty. Loyalty to whom was the question? I strategically led him to the opposite tower and up the ramparts. We could have our conversation while overlooking the keep, after a nice tea to make him speak freely.

  Chapter 9

  Jim

  I tried not to look too addlepated when Miss Silver turned into Greenie, but the trick was impressive. Her skin, the color of light earthen foliage glittering in the sunlight and her silky ebony tresses danced behind her as she led me up the tower and into the light. As she spoke, her petal soft lips entranced me. They were the lightest pink, forever glazed in an iridescent hue. She was just as beautiful and glorious as ’Punzel but in a freakish, more professional sort of way.

  The large, circular layout atop the tower beckoned with its lavish silk woven rug, opulent settee couch and two luxurious, yet comfortable-looking armchairs. Everything was covered in gold gilt and plush, royal-purple velvet. A tray was waiting with steam rising from the teapot. Sugared biscuits with honey beckoned from dainty, painted china. A warm summer breeze blew over the ramparts, lifting my robes and tickling the fine hairs on my calves. If it weren’t for the castle, I would swear I was in the tropics. It kind of made me want to shed the robe ’Punzel had lent me.

  “Hey, nice spread,” I said, admiring the extravagant, roof-top patio. “You wouldn’t have any ice cubes for that tea, would you?” She shook her head. “Europe doesn’t seem to get it either, but we Southerners like our tea iced and sweet,” I added.

  “What should I call you?” the green lady asked.

  I wonder if this is another cue I was missing. Let’s see, which one would Mindy say I am--the scarecrow, lion, or tin man? I guess my delay irritated her, since Greenie glared at me. For lack of better judgment, I fessed up. “Dr. Jim Nichols, Tulane University, New Orleans, Louisiana...ah, Earth,” I finished wondering if I should have only replied name, rank and serial number.

  “Good, I’m glad you are being forthright. I care not for torture. Since you didn’t free Rapunzel, I must warn you--don’t allow her to see you. Her spells are wicked strong, and she will lay you to waste without a second thought. You court danger with any contact.” She motioned for me to take a seat as she poured cups of tea for us and offered me a biscuit. “Tell me about this Earth you speak of.”

  “Ah, its blue, green and white mostly....round.” I struggled for a few more adjectives, as I crunched my powdery biscuit. Starving, I wolfed it down. The powdered sugar sifted onto my chin and robe, no doubt making me look like a frothing-at-the-mouth lunatic. All I cared about, was getting something solid in my stomach, and getting back home.

  “Maybe tell me the last thing you remember on your world,” Greenie asked as she crossed and uncrossed her legs in irritation.

  “These biscuits are awesome! Got any more? Um, I don’t remember catching your name.” Embarrassed, I wiped at the sugary crumbs on my day-old stubble. Greenie picked up a silver bell, which also sat on the tray, and rang it. A woman in a tan apron with her hair pinned up under a cap appeared and bobbed a curtsy.

  “It appears our guest is unsated. Perhaps some bread and cheese. Do see what the larder holds and bring an array. That will be all, Delsie.” The maid backed out of the room. Turning back, Greenie addressed me. “Since you are speaking willingly and honestly, I will return the favor.” She gestured at the area we sat in. “We have no one here to properly introduce a lady, so I must suffice. I am Phrysia Carvinalee, Princess of Rhineguard, in the Fayance micropolis, fair land of Datters Isle, on the spinning orb we call Ortharos.”

  Damn, the chick would make a kickass emcee. “Wow. Those etiquette classes paid off in spades, huh?” My chuckles died down as fast as they started. Guess I will have to give up my dream of being a court jester. “Sorry, I joke when I’m nervous--and quite a bit when I’m not. Okay, last thing I remember.” I thought and then replied. “Easy, I was sleeping beside my wife.”

  “Then you found yourself here?”

  “Not exactly. I snapped to when I woke up in the giant’s gut.”

  “I am puzzled. Why allow yourself to be consumed? Did you think it was the way back to your domain?”

  “No, Frizzy, I’m not that goofy.”

  Her eyes narrowed and she frowned. “What did you call me?”

  “Wow, I am starting to see the family resemblance. Sis looks the same when she scowls.” Her frown deepened. “Careful now, Frizz, your face may freeze that way.”

  “Doctor Nichols of Tulane, perhaps you misheard me. I am Phrysia Carvinalee, Princess of Rhine...”

  I made the referee timeout gesture. “Whoa! Too long! I just shortened it and made it more memorable, Frizzy. You can call me Jim, if it will make you feel better.”

  Frizzy heaved a sigh. “Dr. Nichols, perhaps you know not how dire this predicament is. Winnalea is our family brownie. She spends some of her time here with my sister, but the majority of it with the queen, the king, and myself. She has been bonded with my family since my father was but a wee lad. If she is away from us too long, she will bond with another or perish. I do not want to lose Winnalea!”

  “So, why don’t you do your magic and pop me and Whinny back home? Can Whinny turn into a horse too?”

  “Of course, Winnalea cannot transform herself! She does have many skills, including the ability to camouflage. Unlike my sister, whose power is innate, I am not a creature of magic. I can create spells because I study witchery, but to magic in such a manner takes much effort and preparation.”

  “If that’s so, how did you get the jump on Sister Dearest?” She shook her head at me. My turn to sigh. “How did you trap ’Punzel?”

  “I assure you it was very hard. It took many spells and trickery to make sure my sister harmed no others. She cannot use her magic to leave
the tower, nor use it for ill. All whom live here avoid this place. They call it cursed and maligned. The few survivors from this castle traveled with us to our Winter Palace near the coast.”

  “Okay, I got it. When I get back, if I get back, I will try to find out what happened to your brownie.” I suspected I knew what happened to the brownie since Mindy slept with her gun handy, but I wasn’t telling the not-so-wicked-but-kinda-cranky Witch of the West. Frizzy excused herself, but before she did, she had the tray-burdened maid show me to a room where I could find clothes and, as she said it, “refresh” myself. Looking pretty rough around the edges, I’d try. Though no plumbing’s a pain, I’ll manage.

  ***

  Lucky for me, the tray of cheese and bread accompanied me to my room, with a potent wine. My head spun after half a glass, and though the stressed-out part of me--wanting to avoid dealing with all this crap--said go ahead, drink yourself into oblivion, the sensible side said pour it out the window, and ask for some water. I hated the practical side of me, but I missed Mindy and Sam so much. How long did these Blinks last? I tried to recollect any tidbits of information Mindy revealed on her nights after her early training. Intrigued by her new profession, she talked a lot then, but was careful not to divulge any top secrets.

  I looked through a trunk at the end of the massive, wooden bed and tossed around a few of the velvet pantaloons and silk hose. The vest with puffed sleeves were out of the question, but I kind of liked the cap with the feathers. I discovered a white long-sleeved shirt, with gads of material and a pair of tight fitting britches and black leather knee-high boots. I resembled one of the rogues, featured on the cover of a romance novel. David Cassidy, eat your heart out! Nichols in Boots is in the house!

  I looked in the oval mirror, tilted the wide brimmed hat with feathers, and gave my reflection a debonair smile. Then I got down to business and tossed the hat over my shoulder, heading for the door. Not sure who the good guys were in this world, I clung to what I was told--trust no ORB. Mindy had relayed stories of how different agents had saved the day by slaying monsters that attacked people and tore up communities with one bite. I knew, given the opportunity, I would end up somebody’s lunch. Better to be on my own until this Blink ended. I made quick work of descending the stairs and headed to the stables. Lucky for me, no Miss Silver.

 

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