The Interloper Bk. 01

Blondie tapped a finger on my shoulder and I stopped and looked at him sideways. He pointed to an olive green tapestry scattered with random mushroom-things hanging on the wall. I nodded at it. "Mushrooms."

God that sounded stupid.

He lifted a brow, regarded me for a second and then shrugged off whatever he'd been thinking. Blondie reached out and slid the tapestry across the wall on invisible tracks. My eyes widened at the room displayed. The doorway was narrow, the room was not.

I looked back at the blond. "What is this?"

He gestured to me and then to the room and said two words very slowly. I guessed he said, "Your room."

I pointed to myself then the room and back to myself. "Mine?"

He nodded resolutely, though his expression was still vaguely puzzled. His voice rumbled through the hall, making the sheet ceiling move in waves. The black scaly serpent slithered to his slide again.

The pair spoke for a second, a strange cacophony. I realized that they weren't speaking the same language. Not exactly. Blondie's voice had halting notes, sounds that could stop and start at the tip of his tongue, changing length, intonation, and formation. The serpent chittered, sounding more like a bird with its long and short whistles between words.

Blondie smiled and touched the corner of his mouth with the side of his pointer finger, tapping twice. The serpent's scales clicked, rotating around and becoming a pinkish color. It chittered, scales shuffling like cards. The vampire-elf laughed, a sound so human I blinked back in surprise, before he spun on his heel. He cast me a look over his shoulder, made a gesture for me to go into the room and stay there, then left.

I watched the horde of monsters walk back down the bamboo hallway and disappear around a corner. I looked up at the serpent whose scales were back to black. The thing looked . . . uh, sullen.

I crossed my arms and cocked my hip. "I don't want to be here either."

Arm like appendages peeled out from the scales in a sticky mess, and the serpent mimicked my gesture. Well, at least we understand each other... I think.

I looked out the sliding paper doors to the village in the valley. How big was this place? What kind of world was this? It had magic and dragons and satyrs. What else did it have?

I blew out a hot sigh and dragged my feet through the narrow door to the room. It looked like a suite a person might see in Vegas. A giant TV—huh? Nope. Yeah, that was a TV. Name brand and everything—hung above a fireplace on one side of the room, adjacent two vermillion couches and a dark stained coffee table. I couldn't help wondering if the place got HBO as my eyes continued to wander around. A circular, floating bamboo staircase was on the other side of the room with a mysterious tapestry beside it. I looked up the floating staircase to the landing above, but couldn't see what was on it. I shrugged, stepping fully into the room.

A slithering sound and the cool whoosh of air behind me made me turn. I caught a glimpse of black scales before the tapestry moved back into place, shimmered the same iridescent color as the stuff connecting the corridors, then blended into the wallpaper like a chameleon. I reached for the place a door should have been; but it was all wall, no seams.

"Hey!" I yelled, pounding on the textured wallpaper. "Open up!"

No answer.

I pounded harder, screaming my head off for them to let me out. Stupid, stupid, Tilly! I berated myself, tears burning hot behind my eyes. I shook my head, refusing to let them fall. It was my own fault. I knew one day my adventurous side was going to get me into trouble.

I'd been lucky moving from Washington D.C. to San Diego without a moment's notice. Finding an apartment and a job at the same time. Finally getting my acceptance letter to UCSD's Masters program. Lucky, lucky, lucky. I lived my life with luck in mind.

Sure there were consequences every so often, a bruise or scar here and there but nothing to deter me. Damn do I wish something had deterred me.

I swung in a wide circle, searching the room for a window. There were none.

"Shit, shit, shit," I mumbled, tripping over my feet to get to the other tapestry.

It slid aside soundlessly, the same way the other one had, and for a brief flicker of a second I thought I'd found a way out. Nope—I stuck my head into the room—I'd found the bathroom. Basin in the middle, shower heads sticking out at angles from one corner, and a toilet thing in another corner with a short pane of frosted glass.

It looked modern, like the TV and the chandeliers I'd seen. So, the creatures had been to Earth. That was good. It meant they could speak English, right? Some had to.

I took a few calming breaths in, using the breathing meditation techniques my therapist mother taught. I hated when she sat me on the couch and pointed out my fears and insecurities with the same ease she read a grocery list, but she had her good moments. Teaching me to deal with the stress of finals and life-changing decisions with mediation instead of anxiety was one of her best points.

I stood there for long minutes, listening to my heart, breathing in through my nose and out through my mouth. After a while I felt better. My bladder chose that moment to demand the bathroom, and then the shower called my name, and... Well, an hour later, wrapped in a form fitting, blue towel-robe thing, clean, and with hair scented like a candy store, I was doing great.

Yeah, being kept in a windowless, doorless room wasn't fantastic, but it could be worse. I settled on the cream couch, crossing my legs. The blue towel suit was weird, especially since I'd wrapped it around my body like any normal towel and then it had stretched, wrapping around itself and my hair until it looked like blue bandages on my body.

I reached for the remote on the coffee table and clicked on the TV. A re-run of Dance Moms flickered to life.

I looked at the wall where the door should have been and called over my shoulder "Dance Moms is on. Wanna watch it?"

I figured the serpent was still there, and it couldn't be hurt to ask. Besides, if the thing became my friend it would have less incentive to eat me. A few seconds passed before the wall shimmered, turning back into the tapestry, and then whooshed aside.

The point of the serpent's tail waved from the doorway.

"Come on in," I invited.

A brief chitter, which I took as a "Thank you," and the serpent came into the room and settled on the couch across from me.

I stared at the open door for a second. There was freedom if I wanted it. I looked back at the serpent who was regarding me with wide black eyes that reflected hints of cobalt in their inky gaze. To run or not to run. I looked back at the TV; Abby was yelling at one of the girls, a brunette child near tears.

I cast another glance at the open door, turned to the serpent, shrugged, and settled in for the show.

***

Halfway through the third episode of Dance Moms, Blondie reappeared sans entourage. Instead, he had two orange and green robed humanoid creatures beside him. They were ridiculously tall and wide, with marshmallow-fluff white hair. Their skin shimmered like the stuff in the hallways and on the door, making me think they'd constructed it.

I got up from the seat and approached them, serpent dude hot on my heels. Actually, I still wasn't sure if the serpent was a guy or gal, but from the chittering like snorts of the TV show antics I assumed male.

The vampire-elf had changed and was now dressed in a crisp black suit. He'd braided his mane of hair in a fishtail and thrown it over his left shoulder. Somehow the entire ensemble made him look less feminine and more masculine, how he could flip so drastically with a simple change of clothes I had no clue.

I waved at the trio. "Howdy."

Blondie nodded his head and turned to the people beside him, gesturing from them to me as he spoke. They responded with voices that rumbled like thunder, looked at me, looked back at him and frowned.

I couldn't tell the creatures' gender. There were no real defining male or female characteristics. Their lines were flat, mouths wide, cheeks plump, and eyes a few centimeters too wide for their faces; their voices and intonations flat, without a hint of gender.

The other creature spoke with the same rumbling thunder voice that was neither high nor deep. I frowned. Am I just going crazy, or does everyone sound different? I swear they aren't speaking the same language.

Another few minutes of talking and one of the marshmallow-haired creatures turned and glided toward me. I looked down to find feet, but robes covered it. When I raised my head, the creature was in front of me, both hands extended out. One hand wrapped around my throat while the other covered all of my ear and most of my head.

The thing couldn't have touched me more than five seconds, but it was five freaky seconds. Oh, god, they're going to kill me. It was bound to happen, just a matter of time.

I raised my hands and scratched at the creature holding me. Its eyes narrowed, and it hissed. A second later, the hands were gone, leaving a tingly burn in their place. My brain, ears, and throat hurt like I was hungover.

I covered my sensitive ears when the serpent chittered beside me. "Not so loud," I whined in a raspy voice. I swallowed hard, but it didn't help the pain.

"Take this," a cultured voice screamed at me.

A cold hand brushed my shoulder and I flinched back. "Stop freakin' screaming. It's going to bust an ear—"

Wait. I looked up, locked eyes with the vampire-elf. "I heard you."

He smiled. I think it was supposed to be reassuring, but it wasn't. "I also heard you. And I'm not screaming, your ears are taking a while to adjust." He extended his hand. "Duke."

I was expecting something hard to pronounce that wasn't like a human name at all. I extended my hand, grasping his. "Um, Matilda. Everyone calls me Tilly."

We shook hands and I was thrown off by the gesture. It was hard enough to get foreigners to shake hands and recognize it as a Western thing, the fact that he did it automatically only cemented my thoughts that humans were here. "What do you mean my ears? And is there a human I can talk to, like an American one?"

He shook his head, braid falling behind his back. "No humans here, I'm afraid. However, I spent some time on Earth in the States. I am accustomed to human habits, should you need to speak with someone."

I was beyond confused and skating to the edge of freaking out. I rubbed my forehead, hangover effects fading away. "Go back, go back. Let's start with how I got here and where here is before we go into anything else."

The marshmallow-haired people nodded. "Our sentiments exactly."

CHAPTER THREE

A vampire, a serpent, a human, and two mages walk into a room... I'd been trying to finish the joke for the better part of ten minutes. There was one there, I knew it.

The marshmallow heads were Milan and Rowan. They were mages, though I still wasn't sure what that meant. The pair had been great at explaining the world I was in without being overwhelming: "Yes, Tilly, you are in another world. Yes, there is magic in this world. No, you can't hear us because you now have magic powers; you hear us because your ears and mind have tuned to our languages, allowing the organs to translate as quickly as you hear. No, Milan and Rowan are not our names exactly, just your interpretation of them."

More shocking was that mages didn't have gender or sex. Milan and Rowan weren't men or women, they just were.

"So it was the dreamcatcher," I mumbled sourly as I handed the necklace to Milan. I liked the piece too.

"It's not a dreamcatcher," the mage corrected. I knew it was Milan from the eye discoloration: one eye was blue and the other orange. "It's a portal key. The balls are tiny replicas of our solar system held together with a thread that never ends."

"Which solar system? The Milky Way?"

"Narpum Del." Milan pointed to each of the swirling balls hanging on the thread, naming them in turn. "This is Yenos, where we are now. Then Janos and Nagios."

"Uh, okay." Astrology never was my strong suit. Or was it Astronomy?

I crossed my legs, bumping knees with Duke. I blew out a frustrated breath and wiggled on the cramped furniture. Duke, Cherry, and I sat on one couch, while Milan and Rowan sat on the other.

Cherry—the serpent who was indeed a male and sounded about as surfer boy California as they came—took up most of the couch. Duke and I were pressed together, his chilled skin against my heated one.

"So, if I fell through the portal using that key, can't you just give me a reverse key and send me back to Earth?"

There was an awkward pause before Rowan spoke, thin lips pulling down in the slightest frown. "Neigh-hoax was the last hoax of the Los Angeles Comic Convention, yes?"

"Hoax?"

Rowan nodded.

"I think something's wrong with my mind translator thingy. A hoax is like, um, a joke. No, it's more like a trick you play on someone."

The mage turned to Duke and made a gesture that looked like a cross between throwing up and begging. Whatever I lost in translation, Duke had no problem picking up. The vampire reached for a pen-like thing on the table and a piece of thick paper and scribbled three careful symbols. I looked closely and realized they were letters, English ones.

D-A-Y. "Oh! You mean day? The last day?"

The marshmallow heads exchanged a look before Rowan smiled. I think. "Yes. That word."

I nodded. "Yeah."

"And what time was it supposed to close?"

"Dunno."

Milan and Rowan exchanged a glance, and sparks literally flew between the pair. I flinched, not nearly as startled as I'd been the first few times they'd done it.

Rowan turned back, coughing uncomfortably. "Box. The portal closed the catch the convention ended."

I held up my hand. "Okay, I think there is something seriously off with my translator. I didn't understand most of that."

"You will have difficulty with time frames and measurements. Those are things that cannot be translated because they are all relative. It will only give you the literal meaning closest to English. If the literal meaning does not exist in your language, it will provide a phonetic equivalent," Rowan explained. "Soon enough, you won't notice the difference, and will automatically translate the words in your mind."

"How long will that take?"

"It's different for everyone."

Well that sucked eggs. But it was all the more reason for me to get out. I didn't belong here and the faster this conversation was over, the faster I could get home and with years of therapy, make this one very realistic dream. "Ya know what, it's fine. Just tell me when it opens again, please."

Duke snatched up the pen and scribbled a few more letters down. My eyes bugged out. "A year? What do you mean a year?" I shot to my feet, shaking my head furiously. "No, no, no, no, no. See, I have school—midterms! And I'm a nanny. I mean, I left Brandon and James at the convention and I'm sure the Lerous fired me already. But if they didn't, I still have a chance. And stuff, and a life, and I—I just need to know when the next portal opens." Comic-cons went on all year round. I knew that for a fact. So they had to have more portals.

"We have a deal with the humans—specifically the American government," Milan continued. "We are allowed passage once a circle at a neutral site selected by the Americans. We plan this trip for mirth, coordinating with them on the specifics."

"So you have electricity and access to Earth's resources?"

"We do not have the resources you think we have. Our people bring pre-recorded videos back with them, and the electricity is our own from underwater windmills controlled by the merfolk. Some have gone to Earth to help humans in the same endeavor."

I wasn't going to touch the "mermaids exist" thing with a ten-foot pole. "Phone! Do you have phones you could call someone with?"

"In a manner of speaking."

"Great. Call the president then. Tell him one of his citizens is trapped in your world and that she needs to get back."

I wanted to pat myself on the back with my quick and totally rational thinking. So far I was holding my shit together remarkably well. Maybe it was all the sci-fi movies, or watching too many Unsolved Mysteries or the constant feeling that we weren't alone in the universe. How narcissistic and self-righteous to think we were the only life created. It always smacked of denial and here was my proof. And maybe that's why my freak out meter wasn't going into overdrive, because the planet, my school, and my parents had done a pretty great job at preparing me for the unexpected.

Another sparking glance between the pair, and Rowan joined back in the conversation. "We have spoken to him. It is why it took us so long to come to you, we were in negotiations."

"And?"

"It's harder than you think to traverse universes, Matilda. Even if he had given his approval, it is unlikely we would have been able to get you back."

"Super," I mumbled, pacing. "What about a spaceship or something. Can't I take one of those?"

Cherry snorted. "You'd die before you got there."

"Why?"

"Time moves differently across space."

"But didn't you just speak to the President? Across freaking space?"

"We use an enhancer to do that. Non-material matter is easier to manipulate in that way. You are not immaterial."

No space ship. No portal. No way to make myself not myself. Fuck.

"I have a life," I groaned, stomping my towel-covered feet across the floor. "My mom and my brother and my dad. My job and my school and my friends. What's going to happen to my fish?"

Duke pushed to his feet and strode over to me. He grabbed my arms and spun me around to him. "I have a phone you can borrow to call your job and family. You can make all the arrangements, but the fact remains that you will be here for a circle."

"But why? Why me?" I was Normal with a capital N. I may have had some interesting adventures growing up, but those were few and far between. There was nothing—nothing about me to suggest I should be transported to another world.

I knew who my father was and who his father was and who his father was before him. I could trace my lineage back almost to the source. Same with my mom. I wasn't in any experimental group, taking weird drugs (that I knew of), or signed up for a Top Secret program. My friends weren't strange, didn't talk about other worlds or stuff like that. We gabbed, bitched, and laughed about teachers and classmates we'd fuck, marry, or kill.

I shrugged off his hands and squatted down, a childhood coping mechanism. Make yourself small and your problems become small. Small problems, small problems. I was on another planet. But it had water, TV, toilets, and nice people. Uh, nice so far. I couldn't return to Earth for a year. More time to study for my midterm—

I barked out a laugh and covered the sound with my hand.

—More time to figure out what I want to do with my life. And I could like it, I didn't know. I wouldn't be able to see my family. But I could talk to them everyday. Maybe I could video chat with them.

Suddenly, all my large problems—which actually were big deals—grew manageable. The fear, the uncertainty, the despair I felt ebbed away. If my father could survive the Nigerian Civil War, my mother growing up in Buttfuck nowhere British Columbia, and survive having a gun pointed at me during a corner store robbery, living on Yenos should be no problem.