And then he’d lost and compounded the loss.
And then he’d been beaten by men who had no idea how brittle his bones were. A few pins and screws and plates later, Dan thought he’d learned his lesson—right up until the next tumor sent him back to a weekend casino trip.
“Thank you,” Dan blurted. “For saving me.”
“I didn’t save you,” Sondre said.
Dan looked at the man in the cloak as they walked through a vast stone doorway. “Is this a weird debtor’s prison then?”
“No. You are alive and healthy and were in the infirmary.”
“So I’m saved.” Dan nodded. His ill-planned hiking trip ended abruptly with a tumble over the edge of a ravine, but all the people who said hiking would be the answer to his stress had been wrong. It wasn’t exactly a cure for the debt back home, but look at where he was! By all rights, he’d expected to die this month one way or another. Instead, he was strolling out of a castle—which absolutely made no sense.
“Why a castle? Is this Europe? Is this like witness protection? Do I get a new identity here? I’ll testify against my bookie. Where—”
“You’re in Crenshaw,” Sondre cut him off. “Mae—Dr. Jemison—has healed worse cases than you. Although, if not for that burst of magic you summoned to slow your descent, you’d be dead.”
“Magic?” Dan stopped mid-step and stared. His rescuer had become even more alluring. “Idid magic?”
“Yes. That’s why I brought you here. All magic users are relocated to our world.” The man paused. “Do you have questions or doubts or—”
“It’s so ‘Yer a wizard, Dan’ or whatever.” Dan looked around, hoping to see fantastic creatures or wizard duels or something.
Instead, there was still a regular-looking courtyard. The ground had a look of age, but the most interesting feature was a few bent trees and some stubborn grass that seemed to be attempting to shove through a thin layer of snow. There were no hints of anything extraordinary, but Dan knew the explanation his new hero had offered was true. His mother used to call it intuition, but mostly, Dan simplyknewwhen people were lying. It made him an excellent poker player and a terrible date. Right now, however, it meant he was sure the most wondrous experience was really and truly happening.
He’d been cured by a potion and magic, gone from broken bones and coughing blood and slow-spreading cancer to feeling energized in a mere few days. If there were potions…
“Are there wands?” Dan asked. “Ooooh, tell me there are w—”
“No.” Sondre straightened. “Objectscan be imbued with magic. Stones. Jewelry. Some spells can be tied to the object temporarily. Also, the term is witch. Not wizard. Historically, witch was gender neutral.Wizardis, etymologically, the term for a ‘wise man,’ and pairs with the female term ‘cunning woman.’”
“Sure, sure. Got it. Witch is gender free.” Dan walked around the courtyard with a new curiosity. A preponderance of chickens roamed the courtyard, and two younger men were walking around scooping chicken poop. A third was gathering eggs in a giant woven basket. “What about the smell? Is it the, er, birds?”
“No. Gas leak from a ground vent we can’t properly seal.” The man sighed and motioned toward several piles of burning plants. “The outside world has done some drilling and spilling, and the noxious stuff seeped into the ground—” He held out his hands in a what-can-you-do gesture. “Weareworking on correcting it.”
Looming over them was a castle. A real, honest-to-Pete castle. It could’ve been straight out of the Czech landscape, or along a Scottish tour, or watching over German forest. The towering stone edifice was neither ruined nor festooned with tour-guide trappings.
“So, er, what’s your name?” Dan tried to sound smooth, but he felt like his geek heart was bursting. He knew the man’s name from overhearing it, but he still felt like they ought to have an introduction. After a lifetime of Comic-Con, local cons, and this one furry con that was maybe best not discussed, he was in an actual magic city and strolling with a real witch. Dan wanted to do everythingright.
“Sondre.”
“Sondre,” Dan repeated in a low voice. Louder he added, “Right. Well, Sondre, point me to the scullery or stables or wherever I need to work. Glad to be here. Ready to work.”
“You’re not here to wash dishes or shovel dung, Daniel.” Sondre rubbed his forehead as if a headache was pressing on him, and Dan wanted to ask questions about potions for that or if they took regular pills like back home.
“You’re in Crenshaw due to the awakening of latent magical traits,” Sondre said in a tour-guide tone. “These traits mean that, in due course, you will decide whether to remain here or return to—”
“I’ll stay.” Dan interrupted the canned welcome-to-Crenshaw speech. “Shovel dung. Slay monsters… er, well, try to slay ’em at least. Whatever the bosses want. I’m your guy.”
Dan scanned the sky. No giant eyes. No explosions. No militaristic space orbitals posing as moons, at least as far as he could see.
He glanced back at Sondre. “Is it dragons? Evil overlords? I’mherefor it, man. Just aim me. Happy to serve the cause. Die for the nation of Crenshaw. Whatevs.”
Sondre made a gesture and a teacup appeared in his hand. He downed the entire cup, sighed, and then stared at Dan. “You’re in Crenshaw due to the awakening of latent magical traits. These traits meanthat, in due course, there will be a decision whether you are to remain here or return to… What is your home location?”
“Baltimore,” Dan supplied, wanting to be helpful—and not just because Sondre was handsome or because he was magical or because he’d brought Dan to a magical—
“Are you still listening?”
