I become acutely aware that I’m sitting beside him in nothing but a sheet. My cheeks burn with a flash of humiliation when I recall, only moments ago, the sheet had been on the ground, bearing my naked body in all its glory.
“Why do you think I am an assassin?”
“Who sent you?”
My phone. My fucking phone sent me.
“How can I make you understand? The clothing I was wearing when I crash landed on your planet is a costume. I made it with my own two hands, a sewing machine, and a lot of swear words. I don’t really know how to kill anyone.”
He shakes his head, and it’s clear that he doesn’t understand fully what I am saying. Either that, or he refuses to believe me. For some ungodly reason, he leans closer. My lips tingle with his proximity. My chest hitches, and oh shit, my nipples harden visibly beneath the sheet. They stick out like proverbial high beams, right in his line of view.
Sliding my arm over my breasts, I think about leaning away but I don’t. His unusually handsome face inches from mine. The pigment of his skin looks like the most incredibly polished porcelain, not a pore or blemished insight. If I’m being honest, he’s attractive. Hot, really.
“I do not believe you. And while you are an intriguing creature, no matter how beautiful the lips, a lying tongue will earn you a blade through your heart.”
I’m watching his mouth as he speaks, sort of losing myself in the sound of his voice. I understand what he is saying, but I don’t fully process it because I’m hanging onto the tones and enjoying the reverberations of the words as they pass from his throat. It’s luring me, lulling me, drawing me closer to him. I feel a little drunk again.
“Wait,” I say sluggishly. “Your lady friend already stabbed me there, remember? She tried to kill me.”
“I did not allow her to take your life.”
“You were supposed to marry her.”
Gamalt leans back and the spell on my brain snaps. I look around, feeling as if I’ve just woken up from a dream.
“Our mating is no longer agreeable.”
He turns away. “We must answer before the King. You will have one opportunity to explain yourself so the King may decide if you will live. A servant will return with the appropriate garments and to check your wound.”
“Wait a minute.” I burst from the bed. “This is all a mistake. I was at cosplay con, right, and my cell phone glitched and this portal came out of the screen, sucked me into it, and threw me out in the middle of your wedding. I’m sorry I ruined your wedding!”
He gives me a long, intense once over. “Do not be. Our union was one of necessity and not desire.”
He turns his back again, snaps his fingers, and disappears into the wall. The solid wall reappears where it had been before, and a second later, a woman manifests in front of the wall. She looks like a stick with a full head of thickly corded hair, her coloring the same shade of brown from head to toe. She’s wearing wide legged white pants, and matching tunic. The clothing that she deposits at my feet appear to be a match to her outfit. She says nothing, doesn’t even make eye contact as she gestures for me to lie down on the bed.
I comply because I don’t have a choice. Her long, twig like fingers pressing pot at the bandage over my wound. I clenched my eyes to block out the discomfort as she fiddles with it. Amazingly, it stops hurting. I glance down to find afresh bandage affixed to the wound and the woman, gone.
The lights dim and then turn back on. The room is different again. There’s a door in the wall directly to my right. It’s open, a light glowing from inside. It looks like a bathroom. Curious, and grateful because I really need to go, I gather the clothing and inspect the room. There’s a device that look a lot like a toilet, a deeply scooped sink with a spray nozzle for water, and one small towel.
Closing the door, I hesitate to use the facilities because I can’t shake the sensation of being watched. Who wants an audience while they’re trying to pee? But the urge is too strong, and I do my business while keeping myself covered with the sheet, then quickly change into the pants and tunic. Fluid turns on automatically at the sink and pours out with an orange hue. Afraid to touch it, I poke one finger into the stream to see what happens. Nothing. Nothing happens, so I rinse my hands and use the towel.
Half expecting the room to be changed again when I enter, I find it the same. Strange how even slightly familiar things can feel so different. The wall dissolves again, shocking me less this time, and two large males appear. Heavily armed, they wear suits of what looks like leather armor trimmed in fur. Intricate patterns are etched into the leather and cover the entire chest plate. The sides of their heads are shaved, their corded hair piled in a high, tight ridge on top of their heads woven with a leather band. I’m reminded again that these people are very Viking-esq. Scowling, glaring, they motion at me to approach them.
I shuffle forward. What’s going to happen to me? I’ve never been falsely accused before. Hell, I’ve never been accused of anything in my life and can only imagine what the justice system is like on an alien planet.
What would Assassin Krunch do?
Isn’t this entire experience nothing short of a science fiction movie? Assassin Krunch would keep her head up, shoulders back, eyes always watching. She’d cooperate until there was a good time to make her move and then she’d… she’d what?
Fight?
Escape?
How exactlydoesone go about escaping from an alternate universe?
Squaring my shoulders, I hold my head high and brace myself as the men each grab one of my arms. My wrists are put in front of me, and a glowing band is snapped around them. I tug on instinct and am rewarded with an excruciating clench of sparking heat around my wrists.
It takes my breath away. The room spins as I double over to ride out the pain, and inadvertently set off another shock that sends me to my knees. The floor scrapes against my kneecaps and I nearly fall over, but one of the men yanks me painfully by my bicep to my feet. Stumbling, I hurry to keep up with him while trying to regain my breath.
