by J. M. Page
Bain stood in the doorway to the side of the room. She hadn’t noticed that door last night, but she hadn’t really been paying attention, either. She heard others beyond it, but no one else came in. While Lina tried to come up with a response to Farita’s litany of questions, she couldn’t stop her eyes from drifting over to Bain, held captive by his knowing smirk.
Lina finally cleared her throat. “I would like a drink,” she said, her tongue barely more than a dried-out sponge. Her mouth tasted even worse than it felt, and she tried to wet her lips, but there was no moisture to be found.
“Of course, of course,” Farita said, producing a cup of tea from a tray on the other side of the room. “Mind yourself, it might be a bit hot. The kettle’s been on the fritz and I can’t seem to get it to hold a steady temperature that doesn’t burn everyone’s mouth.” The tea in the cup was steaming and Lina took a deep breath of the vapor, her chest relaxing, her lungs expanding.
“That’ll have you feeling better in no time. Don’t know where you came from, but it seems like quite the journey. Haven’t seen anyone that bad off since Tyran Ogleforth tried to cross the Southern Sea and washed up on the shore a week later.”
Lina drank slowly and carefully to not burn herself, but quickly downed the whole cup. “I might be able to help with the kettle,” she said, once her mouth wasn’t so parched. “I’m pretty good at fixing things.”
Farita nodded, apparently satisfied and then offered Lina a glass of water, which she also downed in record time. “Perhaps when you’re feeling better.”
Lina sat up a little straighter. “Oh, it’s no trouble at all, I’ll just need a couple of tools…” She stretched and nearly fell out of bed reaching for the kettle, knowing Farita wouldn’t let her actually stand so soon.
Farita huffed and handed her the device after emptying its contents into another steaming mug for Lina. “Don’t move,” she said. “You’re just as bad as the rest of them.”
She bustled out through the door Bain practically blocked with his broad shoulders and easy stance and Lina caught his eyes as Farita left. Bright and green and crinkling at the edges. “She’s all bark and no bite, don’t worry,” he said while Lina turned the kettle over and started taking apart what she could without tools.
“Do you really think you can fix it?” he asked, head tilting to the side, some kind of scheme brewing behind his eyes. Lina didn’t know him well, but she knew him well enough to spot something was different in the way he looked at her now.
She nodded and Farita flitted back into the room, unceremoniously dropping a heavy canvas bag onto the bed. It clanked when it landed next to Lina’s knees and when she opened it, she found an array of tools straight out of her dreams. Tools made for hands her size, tools actually intended for the purpose she’d use them for, not improvised from other objects.
“I fixed lots of stuff for my mom. I didn’t always understand what I was fixing, but I’m good at figuring out how things work.” She opened the back panel of the kettle, studied the wiring and connections inside. The work was tidy and precise, better than most jobs she’d seen, but it wasn’t anything more advanced than what they had on Earth and her heart sank a little. Still, despite evidence to the contrary, she held out hope that these aliens had some advanced technology to get her home.
Lina was just wrapping up the repair and closing the back of the kettle when there was a knock at the door — the one she and Bain had gone out the night before — and then the door opened a crack, a girl a bit younger than Lina poking her head through. “Farita, I’m sorry to bother you and — oh, you’re awake! I’m so glad — but have you seen my brother?”
Farita scowled at the intrusion, then jerked her head back to the other door where Bain still stood.
“There you are! Mother wants us both at the palace right away.”
Bain frowned and stepped forward, pulling his sister into the room and closing the door behind her.
“She’s in no condition to have all this commotion,” Farita grumbled, trying to shoo the pair, but Bain stayed rooted in place.
“It’s okay,” Lina muttered. “I don’t mind.” It didn’t seem like anyone heard her, though. It didn’t seem like the siblings were paying any attention to Farita though, either.
“I’m not going—” Bain started.
“What? You have to! You can’t make me sit through another boring delegation all by myself,” his sister pouted.
Bain folded his arms. “And where were you yesterday when I was entertaining the arriving party, Suriah?”
She bit her lip and cast her eyes toward the floor. “Well, we both missed the feast last night because of…” Her gaze drifted toward Lina.
“She’s just woken up and I was going to try to learn more about her, but if you’d rather go to the delegation…” he said, taunting her.
Suriah’s jaw dropped before her mouth curved into a sly smile. “I suppose it falls under our royal purview to ensure that our guest is well attended and to do what we can to make her more comfortable as we try to figure out how to help her home.”
“Precisely,” Bain answered, a matching smile twisting his lips.
Farita threw up her hands with a huff. “I’ll have no part of this and I know nothing about it,” she said, storming out of the room as the siblings laughed at her expense. Lina frowned at the repaired kettle. Farita didn’t even test it before leaving. She set it on the table next to the bed and noticed the two royal siblings turn toward her, questions written on their expressions.
Bain pulled a chair up to her bedside and his sister followed suit, both settling in for what promised to be a lengthy chat.
“Wow,” Suriah said, blinking rapidly. “So, you’re from another planet?”
“Yeah, I think so,” Lina answered. “I’m reasonably sure this isn’t Earth, and I’m not originally from Earth anyway so… Yes, definitely.”
“And you fell through some sort of portal?” Bain asked, his eyes shimmering with something she couldn’t quite place.
She nodded. “It wasn’t exactly intentional. I was fixing it and sort of… got sucked in. And now I have no idea how to get back.”
Suriah frowned. “Why do you want to go back? If everything is too big for you and we’re the only people like you you’ve met… Why don’t you stay here?”
“Suriah!” Bain hissed.
“What? You know she’d be welcomed,” Suriah whined.
“Yes, but it’s hardly appropriate to put someone on the spot like that, especially with such a weighty decision. I’m sure Lina has people she cares about on her world.”
Suriah pouted, but Lina nodded. “Yes, my mother — adoptive mother,” she added to their looks of confusion, “— is probably looking for me. She’s probably beside herself with worry. I’d like to get back to her as soon as possible.”
Suriah and Bain exchanged a look. “What?” Lina asked, a sense of dread taking over.
Suriah sighed. “It’s just that—”
The door flung open just then and all three of them started. “Here you are. I should have known.” The woman in the doorway was tall and willowy. Her skin practically glowed with health and vitality, a warm amber tone, and a silken curtain of moonbeam-colored hair trailed down past her waist. She wore flowing green robes, trimmed with fine gold lace, and on the top of her head there was an intricate crown cast from gold and platinum that looked like vines, complete with gemstone flowers.
Suriah and Bain both immediately shot to their feet.
“I can explain,” Surie started.
“Mother, it’s my fault,” Bain interrupted.
The woman held up a hand, silencing them both as she approached Lina’s bedside. She smiled warmly, her eyes the same glittering grass-green of Bain’s.
“Hello dear. How are you feeling?”
Lina was suddenly tongue-tied. The way the others had responded and how they still stood ramrod straight while casting wary looks her way made Lina nervous. How was she
supposed to address the queen?
“I’m… I’m feeling much better,” she finally choked out.
The queen nodded. “I’m sure Farita is taking good care of you. As long as my presumptuous children aren’t making too much of a nuisance of themselves,” she added with a sharp look over her shoulder. Bain and Suriah both flinched.
“Oh, no, not at all. They’ve been very welcoming.”
“Mother.” Bain stepped forward now, his posture still stiff, his hands clasped behind his back. “Lina is from another planet. She traveled here through a portal. It may be possible to—”
The queen held up her hand. “Allow me to welcome you to Mabnoa, Lina. You’ve caught us at a bit of a hectic time, I’m afraid. We’re hosting delegations from all over and the celebrations take up a lot of our time,” she said, sending another look to her sheepish children. “If you’re feeling up to it, you’re more than welcome to join us at the festivities. It seems my son would like to escort you, so I’m sure he’d be happy to make any necessary arrangements.”
Bain’s jaw dropped and hung there for a moment before he snapped it shut, his face warming as Suriah elbowed him teasingly.
“Isn’t that right, Erdobain?”
“Yes, of course Mother,” he said through clenched teeth.
“Wonderful. I’m glad that’s settled. I’d love to stay and chat and hear your story, dear, but I’m afraid it will have to wait until after the delegations have left. Suriah, with me.” The Queen turned for the door and Suriah opened her mouth to protest but was silenced with another sharp look from her mother.
The queen did not suffer fools, it appeared. But she seemed nice enough, if a bit icy.
When they were alone again, Bain relaxed, his shoulders slumping with a sigh.
“You don’t have to escort me anywhere,” Lina said. “I’d rather be trying to find my way home, anyway.”
Bain’s face fell, and he looked pointedly toward the windows. “I was afraid you’d say that.”
“Why?”
He shook his head. “You can’t go home, Lina. We don’t have anything capable of that. We have transport between close worlds, but nothing for long-distance travel, and I’ve never even heard of your Earth.”
She looked down at her hands in her lap, tears gathering. She could never go home again? Never see Mom again? Never tell her that she was okay? It seemed impossible that she could be so far away that there wasn’t a way back, but that’s what happened when you messed with experiments you didn’t fully understand, she supposed.
“Oh,” was all she managed.
“I’m sorry to be the one to tell you,” he said. And he sounded like he genuinely meant it. “But I hope you’ll give us a chance. I think you can be happy here, even if it’s not quite the same.”
Lina nodded silently. He was right of course. It wasn’t the same; in many ways it was better. No more struggling with things built for giants, or trying to cover large distances just to cross a room. No more worrying about being squashed or accidentally trapped or sucked into vacuums. Things could be worse.
She finally sighed. If Bain said there was no way for her to go home, there was no use dwelling on it. She wasn’t a genius like Mom. She couldn’t invent the kind of thing that had brought her here. She was only good at fixing things, not making them.
“So then… What’s this celebration thing?”
Bain’s face split into a wide grin. “That’s what I hoped you’d ask.”
Chapter Five
Music wrapped around her from all sides, cheerful woodwinds overlaying a steady up-tempo drumbeat. The sounds of laughter and conversation drifted up from below along with the smoky scents of a hundred foreign dishes that all smelled amazing.
Once Lina had agreed to go to the celebration with Bain, her day took quite the turn. Apparently, attending with the prince wasn't something she could do on a whim. There was a whole army of people dedicated to making her look fit to be on his arm. Bain had told her not to worry, that it was all just tradition and she'd be fine, but now, looking down at the festivities without anyone beside her, Lina's confidence wavered. It wasn't that the dress wasn't beautiful — layers of soft gauzy fabric in an array of colors made her skirts shimmer like opals when her hips moved. The beading was exquisite, too, a sparkling arrangement of flowers that began at the strapless top and trailed down her side to the hem of the bodice. It was a wonder they'd managed to pull it all off in the span of an afternoon.
And it wasn’t that she didn’t look forward to the occasion; being around these people — possibly her people? — was a once-in-a-lifetime experience that Lina didn’t want to pass up, but still…
What if they didn’t like her? What if the whole night was a disaster? What if she embarrassed the prince — or worse, his formidable mother — in front of a delegation from another society?
She gripped the railing, her palms slick against the rustic, naturally curved wood.
“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you look nervous,” Bain’s warm voice danced through the air, caressing her softly. She offered a sad smile to the crowd below, not turning to face him.
“What makes you think you know better?”
He stepped up next to her now, leaning his arms on the railing too, their shoulders only a breath away from touching. “Well,” he began thoughtfully, letting the sounds of the party wash over them for a moment. “Because you have nothing to be nervous about, of course.”
She turned to him, exaggerating her skeptical expression. “You can’t seriously believe that, can you?”
Bain shrugged. “Oh, I suppose there are some things to be nervous about,” he said, and her eyes widened. “You could be shunned by everyone. You could insult our people and our customs without knowing it. You could break the law and be banished or… Oooh,” he sang the last word, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “You could insult the visiting delegation and launch an all-out war.”
Lina pursed her lips and nudged Bain’s shoulder with hers. “You’re kind of a jerk, has anyone ever told you that?”
His jaw dropped, his eyes going wide as he gasped and his hand fluttered to his chest. “You dare call the prince a jerk? Off with her head!” he said to no one.
Lina rolled her eyes and his mock-serious expression broke into a wide grin. “Oooooor, you could go to the party on my arm, charm everyone, and have a wonderful time all while being the envy of every girl.”
She couldn’t help smirking back at him now and perched a hand on her hip. “Because I’m lucky enough to be on the arm of the ever-so-handsome and charming Prince Bain?”
His grin widened. “I only meant that you look absolutely breathtaking… Though that is a good point. I’m glad to know we see eye-to-eye on the matters of my handsomeness and charm.”
She pushed back a giggle, trying to keep up her long-suffering exasperation, but it was hard with him just grinning at her like that. His smile did something to her — made her insides turn warm and liquid like she was floating in a hot spring. She hadn’t yet been able to stop herself from returning that ever-present smirk.
“You’re insufferable,” she said grinning.
“Insufferable and a jerk. I never knew I was so multi-talented. What do you say we go make everyone jealous?” he asked, offering his elbow to her. Lina slipped her arm through his, a shiver of excitement flitting all the way to her toes.
“Alright, let’s do it.”
The party was even more magical than it seemed from above. Bain led Lina down through the winding bridges and walkways that spanned between trees to a huge floating platform strung with twinkling lights and flowering garlands. It was something straight out of the fairy tales Mom had told her when she was younger. Like the one that had given her her name, even.
A few heads turned when Bain joined the festivities, and it was quickly clear that the people of Mabnoa were on friendly terms with their royal family. Lina had thought that maybe Farita had a monopoly on chastising the prince, but t
hat wasn’t the case. Throughout the night, Bain was often the subject of teasing and a few good-natured stories at his expense. But the prince took it all in stride, laughing along and setting Lina at ease.
Now she could see why he’d thought it so funny she was nervous. This wasn’t the tense, pomp and circumstance-filled affair she’d expected when invited by the queen. This was an all-out party. This was fun.
“And here I almost felt bad for teasing you,” Lina said, sipping on a sweet and tangy drink that left her feeling bubbly and happy. “I didn’t realize it was a cherished pastime.”
Bain’s eyes glittered in response and Lina was suddenly breathless, caught in his springtime gaze. “Are you enjoying yourself, then?”
She took another sip of her drink and tilted her head back, her eyes drifting closed as the sounds and smells of the celebration bathed her. A cool night breeze meandered through the crowd and rustled her hair, bringing with it the fresh scent of the outdoors — damp soil, fresh green growth, the hint of salt from a distant ocean. She tried to imprint the moment on her memory. If she did somehow manage to find a way home, she’d never have this again. It would be back to the dingy basement with its musty smells and grimy windows.
With her head still tilted back, she inhaled deeply and opened her eyes to greet a sky full of stars.
As much as she wanted to get back to the things she knew and her mother, Lina had to admit, it would be hard to leave this behind. Finally, she sighed, smiling at the prince.
“Yeah, I am.”
“I knew you would. Care to dance?”
Lina’s eyes grew wide, staring at Bain’s offered hand, her pulse thudding wildly in her throat. “I uh…” Part of never having met another person her size was never having danced before. But how did she explain that to this handsome prince with his sparkling eyes?
“Don’t worry,” he said, leaning forward in a conspiratorial whisper. “I’m a fantastic lead.”
Hesitantly, already wincing at the implications, Lina slipped her hand into Bain’s and he whisked her into the spinning crowd. All around, happy faces and rainbow fabrics swirled in the warm glow of fairy lights.