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I sat up, blinking against the dryness of my contacts, and found myself on a small hill. A glowing green countryside rolled out below, copses of trees scattered about in pleasing clumps. Morning sunlight still shone down on me, but both warmer and softer than the familiar Wyoming variety. Quite a bit warmer. I shrugged out of my heavy red wool coat, leaving my shoulders bare except for the spaghetti straps of the dress. After a moment, I slipped off my heels, too, and dug my toes into the silky grass.
No place I’d been to had this shade of emerald. Or a truly sapphire sky like this. It was as if I’d gone from black and white to Technicolor. Dorothy at the cusp of technology.
In a rush, it came back to me.
Cutting myself—my finger still throbbed, but the slice had scabbed over. And my hair… I reached up and touched the shorn bit at the nape of my neck. Wild, unreasonable behavior.
And, shit, my purse was nowhere to be seen.
A shudder racked me and a sob welled up. What the hell had happened? This was like some fairy tale, where the hapless heroine wandered into a glen and ended up in a magic land. Maybe my escape velocity had hurled me clear into psychosis, colored heavily by Frank’s suggestions of dark faeries.
I instructed myself to get a grip and be logical. What did I know to be true? I listed it in my head.
1.I had no idea where I was.
2.Nothing about myself was changed.
3.I had been unconscious long enough for my finger to scab over.
4.This sure as hell didn’t look like Wyoming, much less any place in the world I’d seen. For what that was worth.
5.…
I got stuck after that. But at least my heart had calmed.
I hauled myself up and scanned the countryside. Hills, trees, meadows. None of it looked farmed. I turned in a slow circle, ankle-deep in the thick grass. No signs of habitation anywhere. I had hoped to spot some kind of road, to take me to, well, somewhere else. A path, maybe a dirt road of some sort.
I completed my turn—and there it was. Just as I had imagined. The unreality of it slammed through my mind, making the edges of my vision shimmer.
Psychosis—looking more and more likely.
There lay my coat and shoes, just as I’d tossed them, only now they lay on the verge of a road that had not existed a moment before.
A road that ended—or rather, began—at my bare toes.
This had to be a dream. A new chapter in the old nightmare. Sometimes I’d get so swept up in a dream that I’d think it was real. Until something really illogical happened and I’d think, as I had just now,Wait! This is a dream, isn’t it?Once I’d caught on to the trick, it was as if I’d solved a puzzle correctly and my subconscious would relent, the dream dissolving away.
No such luck here. The world remained, dazzling, sharp. Improbably vivid, reminding me of the images in mirrors.
Okay then, I had wanted a road and now I’d gotten one. I looped my coat over one arm and picked up my heels in the other hand. While the sun shone warm, I might as well go barefoot—I might be walking for a seriously long time. Hopefully the road wouldn’t be too rocky. I found, after a few steps, that the road wasn’t rocky at all, but rather a soft dust soothing to my feet.
It felt surprisingly pleasant to simply walk along. Though I grew warm. The coat draped over my arm annoyed me and I shifted it to my other arm. A drink of water would be nice, to offset the dust. That stuff felt good on the feet but not so great on the throat.
As if in answer to my thirst, around the bend a clear brook flowed. It looped out from the trees and back in again, dancing brightly over rounded stones.
I set my shoes down and dropped the coat gratefully, wishing I’d left it back at Devils Tower with the other things. I scooped up some water in my hand, then paused. I sat back on my heels, studying the crystal drops. What about giardia? What about…something worse than that?
The ubiquitous velvety lawn was not Kentucky bluegrass, or any grass I’d ever seen. Botany might not be my forte, but I could recognize most tree species in general—and none of these trees were familiar. The leaves were shaped all wrong, with feathery tips and funny points. And it was quiet. No birds. No insects.
Not real.
Observation Number One still stood: I had no fucking clue where I was.
This might seem to be a fantasy version of Ireland, but it could be Hades’ realm, for all I knew. Which would make me Persephone, trapped here forever if I ate or drank anything. Not to be superstitious, but if I admitted that I’d been somehow transported from Devils Tower to Elsewhere—which would be difficult to argue against—then the Underworld could be as possible as anything else. Or Faerie.
I racked my brain for the old tales I’d never paid much attention to. There always seemed to be banquets and falling asleep for hundreds of years.
Regardless, it wasn’t wise to drink water I knew nothing about. I went to wipe my hand on my dress but, feeling suddenly paranoid, turned to wipe it on my coat instead.
