studying the meadow as her memories slowly jumbled into a strange order. "Exactly how did I get here? In fact, where is here? The last thing I remember is the library."
Her gaze was caught by a strange purple flower, and she approached it slowly. It was a pretty thing, with some spiked petals, some curved. They dotted the meadow grass the way the letter "i" dotted a printed page. She'd never seen one before. Never, ever in a whole childhood of helping her father, a botanist.
"What is this?"
"The mansara flower? It's a common plant. They're all over the place."
"Uh-huh. And that?" She pointed to one of the tall trees lining the meadow. Its bark was like smooth concrete, and its leaves looked like a marijuana plant.
"An oant tree."
"Right." Jane turned slowly, anger building within her like a Georgia heat wave. She put her fists on her hips and fixed her hero with her ice queen glare. "Okay, I want to know just where I am, and how do I get from here to Boston."
"Boston?"
"Big city. Streets that used to be cow paths."
Blank. His face was completely blank. She bit her lip and started pacing off her energy.
"I didn't ask before. Denial, I guess. But it's over now. Tell me what's going on." She waited for him to speak, but all he did was settle more comfortably on the grass and give her his complete attention. It was as if he were studying her, and that only increased the burn within her. Still, she took a deep breath and decided to start slowly.
"Where am I?"
"The Plains of Eacost, south of the Great Forest."
She stared at him, worrying her lower lip until it started to feel bruised and swollen. Then suddenly her spirits lightened. "I'm sorry." She was proud of how level her voice sounded. "Your secret decoder gizmo isn't working right."
"It's working perfectly. You are on the Plains of Eacost, south—"
"South of the Great Forest. I heard." Still, she shook her head, wondering if her ears were clogged.
"What is the last thing you remember?" he asked.
"I..." She thought back, finding her mind slow and difficult. She remembered her morning shower. The power had been cut again during the night and domestic energy was on lowest priority, so the water had been ice cold. Her memories leaped forward through a normal work day. Then she'd put on her costume intending to go to the party just after stopping at the library.
Glancing down, she groaned in real horror. Yes, she was indeed pacing agitatedly in front of her computer hero still wearing a billowing cape, a leotard with a huge bat outline on her breasts, black leggings, and neon orange sneakers—she hadn't been able to afford the stylish boots.
Of course, she realized as she peered closer at her hero, he was in costume too. Sort of an eighteenth-century pirate outfit. Soft flowing shirt, dagger sheathed in the belt of his leather breeches. He even wore the softest pair of boots she'd seen in her life. And to complete the outfit, a huge, two-handed, bastard sword lay strapped on his back. It didn't look in the least bit fake either.
She stared at it until he brought her back to the present.
"Are you hungry?" he asked.
"I was working in the library."
He must have taken that as a "no" because he reached into his pack and pulled out what looked like beef jerky. Thank heaven he didn't offer her any because the very sight of it made her think of dried caterpillar. Rather than watch him eat it, she went back to her confusing memories.
"I had to reload a system. The last brown-out zapped everything, but I can't remember anything after that."
"I came upon you two nights ago," he said between bites. "You were lying face down, so cold I thought you were dead."
Jane stared at him. "I was just lying there? In the grass?"
He nodded.
"How the hell did I get there?" she yelled.
He shifted nervously, his broad shoulders rippling as he moved. "I don't know," he said, his eyes dark with sympathy.
She took a deep breath, trying to recall the zen-calming chant she'd told
Her gaze was caught by a strange purple flower, and she approached it slowly. It was a pretty thing, with some spiked petals, some curved. They dotted the meadow grass the way the letter "i" dotted a printed page. She'd never seen one before. Never, ever in a whole childhood of helping her father, a botanist.
"What is this?"
"The mansara flower? It's a common plant. They're all over the place."
"Uh-huh. And that?" She pointed to one of the tall trees lining the meadow. Its bark was like smooth concrete, and its leaves looked like a marijuana plant.
"An oant tree."
"Right." Jane turned slowly, anger building within her like a Georgia heat wave. She put her fists on her hips and fixed her hero with her ice queen glare. "Okay, I want to know just where I am, and how do I get from here to Boston."
"Boston?"
"Big city. Streets that used to be cow paths."
Blank. His face was completely blank. She bit her lip and started pacing off her energy.
"I didn't ask before. Denial, I guess. But it's over now. Tell me what's going on." She waited for him to speak, but all he did was settle more comfortably on the grass and give her his complete attention. It was as if he were studying her, and that only increased the burn within her. Still, she took a deep breath and decided to start slowly.
"Where am I?"
"The Plains of Eacost, south of the Great Forest."
She stared at him, worrying her lower lip until it started to feel bruised and swollen. Then suddenly her spirits lightened. "I'm sorry." She was proud of how level her voice sounded. "Your secret decoder gizmo isn't working right."
"It's working perfectly. You are on the Plains of Eacost, south—"
"South of the Great Forest. I heard." Still, she shook her head, wondering if her ears were clogged.
"What is the last thing you remember?" he asked.
"I..." She thought back, finding her mind slow and difficult. She remembered her morning shower. The power had been cut again during the night and domestic energy was on lowest priority, so the water had been ice cold. Her memories leaped forward through a normal work day. Then she'd put on her costume intending to go to the party just after stopping at the library.
Glancing down, she groaned in real horror. Yes, she was indeed pacing agitatedly in front of her computer hero still wearing a billowing cape, a leotard with a huge bat outline on her breasts, black leggings, and neon orange sneakers—she hadn't been able to afford the stylish boots.
Of course, she realized as she peered closer at her hero, he was in costume too. Sort of an eighteenth-century pirate outfit. Soft flowing shirt, dagger sheathed in the belt of his leather breeches. He even wore the softest pair of boots she'd seen in her life. And to complete the outfit, a huge, two-handed, bastard sword lay strapped on his back. It didn't look in the least bit fake either.
She stared at it until he brought her back to the present.
"Are you hungry?" he asked.
"I was working in the library."
He must have taken that as a "no" because he reached into his pack and pulled out what looked like beef jerky. Thank heaven he didn't offer her any because the very sight of it made her think of dried caterpillar. Rather than watch him eat it, she went back to her confusing memories.
"I had to reload a system. The last brown-out zapped everything, but I can't remember anything after that."
"I came upon you two nights ago," he said between bites. "You were lying face down, so cold I thought you were dead."
Jane stared at him. "I was just lying there? In the grass?"
He nodded.
"How the hell did I get there?" she yelled.
He shifted nervously, his broad shoulders rippling as he moved. "I don't know," he said, his eyes dark with sympathy.
She took a deep breath, trying to recall the zen-calming chant she'd told
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