Coil of Worlds

Skye was concentrating on the blade when he was elbowed in the face. He barely blocked the jab with his forearm, feeling dull pain radiate out from where his arm connected with the man’s elbow. He grunted, wishing he’d chosen another manner of attack. With the man wriggling beneath his dagger, he couldn’t pull the blade out.

The assassin froze for just a moment as he twisted his head from side to side. He then bellowed, “Semnac’s tits.”

Wrenching the dagger out with brute strength, Skye ignored the hiss of pain from his opponent. With his weapon free at last, Skye took note of their surroundings, hearing a repetitive sound bleating in the room. A soft bed braced his knee, a direct contrast to the harsh ground a moment before. Lara was ensconced in a layer of blankets with the man still holding her arm. Where were they? How did they get here without him knowing? Without relinquishing his grip on the man, he glanced at Lara and found her eyes widening in recognition.

Her look said it all. She knew this bed, this place.

Not giving himself time to consider more, Skye returned his focus to the Malirran right before he was flipped onto his back. The man leaned over him. Already precariously balanced on the edge of the bed, they teetered for a moment and then crashed to the hard floor. The movement broke Skye’s hold, and his adversary rolled away, kicking a piece of furniture against the wall in the process. They both rose to their feet, though Skye tried to swipe the man’s legs from under him. Skye reached for his sword, only to realize that the close quarters made the weapon a hindrance. He got a better grip on the bloodied dagger.

Lara chanted under her breath, “No, no, no.”

He didn’t understand what else she said, but he couldn’t take his eyes off his opponent to find out. Lara was safe for the moment. When the man broke away from the forest’s shadows earlier, he had immediately known what this man was. Though the man acted like an accidental intruder, the Malirran’s complaisance regarding Skye’s sword skills told him otherwise. The Malirran was a master swordsman. Skye glanced at the sword the Malirran held. A blade forged in black steel meant only one thing.

Assassin.

As Skye waited for the right time to attack, the assassin had played a game of predator and prey with Lara, playing her with an ease that spoke of the years he’d spent in his trade.

Out of the corner of his eye, Lara grabbed something by her bed and threw it at the Malirran. The man flinched in involuntary reaction, and Skye moved in, forcing the assassin to step back toward the doorway and into the other room. He flipped the dagger as he advanced one measured step at a time.

His attention on the man’s weapon, Skye almost missed the flick of the Malirran’s other wrist. Two objects flew toward him, and he dodged and danced to escape the weapons. Even so, the second knife imbedded in his arm, but he didn’t have time to pull it out. The Malirran turned to run.

He couldn’t let the man escape, he yelled a war cry and sprang forward. They both tumbled to the ground. In the back of his awareness, he heard Lara screaming, though the words were incoherent. He fumbled when the assassin planted a foot into his face, and Skye lost his grip on his dagger. Skye’s fingers wrapped around his dagger again, and in a smooth but blind move, he jabbed the blade up into the leg in front of him.

Through his hair, Skye saw the man grimace in pain before the Malirran used both his legs to flip Skye onto his back, knocking Skye’s legs into a piece of heavy furniture. With a screech and a groan, the furniture slid a short distance on the slick floor. The noise added to the cacophony already filling the small room.

The man knocked Skye’s dagger from his hand, and it skidded across the floor. A triumphant grin crossed the man’s begrimed face. In reflex, Skye brought his knee up, connecting with the man’s forehead in a glancing blow. With a roar, the Malirran raised his own dagger, plunging it toward Skye’s chest. Skye grabbed the only thing close by—the man’s leg, twisting it hard, but he’d forgotten the third player.

Lara crept up behind the man and swung a clay pot with a blood-curdling scream. In a lucky break, the assassin turned at the exact moment the pot would have struck his head, making it a glancing blow. The short reprieve gave Skye enough time to maneuver around on the ground. He reached across his chest and pulled out the small knife protruding from his bicep.

The assassin, a murderous gleam in his eyes, surged off of Skye and flew toward Lara. Lara screamed and ran back into the first room. She grabbed the door and slammed it closed just as the man reached the doorway. With a cry of fury at having lost his quarry, the assassin pulled his arm back and rammed his blade into the door until the hilt met wood.

An agonized gasp filtered through the barrier. Galvanized into action, Skye jumped forward, his dagger forgotten and his sword in hand. The Malirran turned to meet his attack just as his sword came within striking distance. The man’s forearm rose to block the arc of the sword with a clang. Skye swept his sword back, but he’d miscalculated the height of the ceiling. His sword swiped through the soft material, and the ceiling fell in chunks to the floor, showering them in a fine cloud of white powder.

The assassin drew a short knife from beneath his sleeve. Eyes glinting with purpose, he raised the knife, and Skye stepped backward, frantically searching for a way to block the weapon.

Someone banged on a door neither had seen during their fight. The intrusion froze them in a weird tableau.

The assassin threw the weapon at the same time a middle-ranged, young voice yelled through the door, “What is going on in there? Is everyone okay?”

Skye twisted away from the small knife and heard it thud into a wooden frame behind him. They both stood watching each other, their chests heaving from their exertion.

More banging. “Hey, are you okay in there?”

The assassin yanked his sword out of the door as Skye advanced on him. Ignoring the intrusion, they eyed each other with speculation, waiting for the other to attack. They circled each other until Skye faced the door.

The Malirran glanced around and bared his teeth. “Pyranni, we’re not done here. Me thinks we will meet again.”

The Malirran whirled around and swung the door open with a low crow. A young man stood ready to bang on the door with his open palm. Skye watched powerless as the Malirran ran his sword through the man’s stomach before tossing him forward into the room. He retreated down the hall.

Calling for the woman, Skye ran to the open door with every intention of following the Malirran.

He turned to watch her open the door, looking out in fear. Seeing her made Skye doubt his decision, and his stride faltered. For the first time, he was able to fully see her since the skirmish began. She was a vision of blood and bruises, and he regretted his ploy to use her as bait.

Skye couldn’t leave the woman alone. He stuck his head past the door frame and checked both directions before closing the door—the door brushing against the fallen man’s feet.

Lara opened the other door wider and took a hesitant step into the room, skittishness radiating off her. She whispered, “He’s gone?”

Skye nodded as he moved to stand over the guy, examining his injury. The man stared up at him in a haze of pain and confusion. Skye shook his head once and sheathed his sword. The young man would not live past his next few breaths.

With a soft cry of recognition, Lara ran forward and fell to her knees beside him, dropping her sword to the floor with a harsh clatter.

“Brian. Oh no, not you, Brian,” she sobbed as she tore his shirt and pressed the bundle of cloth into the wound.

Skye opened his mouth to tell Lara it was futile, but closed it with a snap when she looked up at him with eyes full of tears. His eyes narrowed.

She was too soft.

Skye knew Lara realized the man’s death was imminent. The speed in which the gaping wound bled attested to the man’s departure from this life. She kneeled in the fast spreading pool of blood, her hands reddened with the man’s blood.

He cocked his head toward the door when he heard a light tread out in the hallway. Skye leaned over and clasped his hand across the woman’s mouth. When she looked up, he held her eyes for a moment, then raised his forefinger to his mouth. Her eyes widened in understanding.

Lara turned back to saving her friend. He listened until the footsteps faded into the recesses of the long hall. There was the soft clang of a bell, then nothing.

His attention dropped to the floor when he heard the last, rattling breath escape the man before he died staring up at Lara with a frozen look of fear etched on his face.

“No,” Lara wailed.

For a moment, Lara bowed her head and hunched over the man, slowly letting go of the blood-soaked cloth. Shock was taking over the woman’s senses. He frowned in concern. They were not yet safe from the Malirran. Though he didn’t think it probable, the assassin could return before they were prepared.

But perhaps not, the Malirran’s wounds were great. Skye itched to follow the Malirran’s tracks. Finding him when he least expected an attack was the most logical strategy. Skye sighed. He reached down and pulled Lara up to her feet.

“We must go. Now,” he said, staring into her eyes.

Her eyes glazed, Lara gave a disjointed nod, acknowledging his command. Then she shook her head, looking down at the body. “I need to call the police. I can’t go now. I can’t leave him like this.”

He dragged her into the first room he’d seen, removing the temptation of the corpse’s presence. He studied her blank face.

“Lara. Woman, look at me.” He waited, impatience stamped into his face, until her eyes met his. “We must leave this place now. It is not safe.”

“N-not…Not s-safe?”

“The Malirran will come back. If we don’t want to provide the Malirran with more victims, we must leave this place.”

His patience snapped when she just stood there in bewildered silence. He tapped her face, each one more forceful, until startled brown eyes focused on him. When a hint of the woman’s personality peeked out at him, he snarled in her face, “I don’t know this place. I assume you do. We cannot stay here. We must leave. Now.”

At last, she nodded her head and straightened her spine with a snap. He read her lips as she said on a quiet sigh of air, “Yes. Of course, you are right. We must leave.”

She twisted around and ran around the room, picking random items up and stuffing them into an odd-shaped bag.

For the first time, Skye glanced around the room. Everything was foreign. He realized it was a sleeping chamber when his eyes landed on the bed. He saw a washbasin in the corner of the room, but noticed the accompanying pitcher was absent. He shook his head. He glanced around the walls and saw lifelike drawings, but no paint in the pictures. Skye was contemplating a thin, square box when Lara shoved a damp towel into his hand.

When he looked askance at the towel, she explained, words running together as she scrambled to grab everything she needed. “We’re both covered in blood. Clean yourself off as much as possible in case we’re seen. With any luck, we’ll be able to leave campus without drawing too much attention.”

He scrubbed his face with the towel, wincing when he swiped his nose. If it wasn’t broken, then it was at least bruised. Skye scrubbed his hands, removing the specks of blood from his skin. The towel came away bloody with both his and the assassin’s blood. He dropped the towel onto the floor and followed Lara out of the room.

She shot him a grim look and said, “Let’s go. We have to leave before anyone notices Brian missing.”

Blocking her from going first, he pulled the door open a crack and glanced outside, holding the dagger in his grip. Seeing nothing but closed doors, Skye opened the door the rest of the way. When he moved to follow in the Malirran’s footsteps, Lara latched onto his shirtsleeve, pulling him back. She shook her head and took the lead, waving for him to follow her. Distinctly uncomfortable in this unfamiliar place, Skye expanded his senses to their limit, making sure no one came upon them without at least a forewarning.

He heard the same bell again and pushed Lara to go faster. He quickened his pace as Lara jogged down the hall, heading to a door at the end of the hall. Behind them, he heard two women talking to each other. It wasn’t the Malirran, but Lara increased her speed nonetheless. Lara hit the end of the hallway and slammed the door open. They flew down the stairs, skipping several stairs at a time in their haste to reach the bottom. Just as they reached the ground floor, the door to the outside opened, and a young man stood in the frame, blocking their escape.

The man was lifting his head when Skye yelled a short battle cry, jumped around Lara, and attacked. His target’s eyes widened in surprise, and the man opened his mouth to yell, though he never raised a hand in defense. At the last second, Skye twisted his hand, and the hilt of his dagger struck the man in the head, knocking him out cold. He crumbled to the floor.

Skye turned back to Lara and found her shaking her head in what looked like denial. He scowled. They didn’t have time for the woman’s idiosyncrasies. He grabbed her arm and strode through the door. In the early morning light, Skye glanced around, trying to determine which way he should go.

Then he blinked.

And blinked again at the sight before him.

He almost backed into the room they had just vacated. This world was far different from his own. There was no means of tracking the Malirran on this planet. The ground was covered with a strange grey substance. No impressions were left behind by the many feet walking before him. No stones crunched beneath his feet. This land was foreign to his senses, the morning air unnatural, a bare hint of earth and living things in the wind. Strange-looking carts traversed the road by magic alone. People walked in every direction, wearing clothes made of material he’d only ever seen on one person. Lara.

There was no similarity in the people—no identical hair coloring, no single size or shape, no identical clothing. It was as if they were in a port city where people of all races intermixed as merchants bought and sold wares and materials. With sickening realization, Skye knew they were in the middle of a city. The buildings towered above him, reaching into the sky higher than even the king’s castle. They hid the sun from view, leaving him with no idea the time of day except early morning.

While stopped in his tracks from the overwhelming sight, Lara ran off, leaving him behind. She turned and shouted, “Hurry.”

A strange animal wail echoed through the streets, increasing in volume as it came closer. Lara yelled back to him, “Run, you idiot,” already sprinting toward a distant area of flat land, dodging around trees and bushes, heedless of the people staring after them.

With his longer legs, he caught up with her within a few strides. In their dash for safety, they missed plowing into the unsuspecting humans by sheer luck. Skye glanced over his shoulder when the wail came nearer and saw a flashing light bounce off the buildings. He sent a silent prayer up to the Goddess. Magic flowed like water in this land, magic in every direction he looked.

Dear Goddess, he had no means of fighting such fearsome magic. Fear clenched his gut; a reaction that hadn’t occurred during his fight with the Malirran.

Skye tossed his head in frustration. They were on flat land, steadily moving away from the towering structures. There was no place for them to stand and fight without being surrounded. Lara’s gaze was fastened on something ahead. Skye looked in the same direction, but only saw the magical carts he’d seen on the road.

Out of breath, Lara pointed to a black painted cart to their right. “Over there.”

What was this? What was her plan? He trailed behind her when they reached the cart, and she pulled a ring of flashy keys out of her pocket. When she opened the cart’s door, she hit him in the thigh.

These carts had doors? Fascinating. Despite their circumstances, he couldn’t help his curiosity at the conveyance. She hissed between two heaving breaths and pointed to the opposite side of the cart, “What are you doing? Go over there. Get in on the other side. Go.”

He shook his head in confusion. What did she mean get in? Skye jogged around while scanning the immediate area for any approaching enemies. On the other side, he copied how she opened the door. With a click, the door opened for him, and he realized there was a seat. Skye flicked his gaze back to the single line of trees and saw distant movement and light bouncing off the walls and ground.

The wail increased in volume as it came closer. Involuntary chills raced up and down his arms. It was inhuman.

He pulled the sword’s sheath from its belt and sat down. Skye startled, not expecting to sink into its soft folds. When he tried to slide his legs in, there wasn’t enough space.

He growled. How did others sit in the cart? Why was there no room?

Lara shouted in the confines of the cart, “The lever, Skye!”

The lever?

When he looked around in confusion, she hissed in frustration again and leaned over him, reaching for the far side of the chair. She demanded, “Push back in the chair.”

Magically, it slid back and he smiled in relief.

“Hurry, get in and shut the door. How did they find Brian so quickly? They’re right behind us.”

He slid his legs in and shut the door, enclosing them in the confines of the cage. Startled at the difference, he looked out the windows at the other carts sitting next to them. He inhaled sharply when he felt a deep rumble beneath him. What was this magic?

Lara warned him, “You might want to put your seatbelt on, my friend. This might turn into a car chase.”

Seatbelt? Car chase? Was the woman speaking another language? He didn’t reply, for he didn’t understand her meaning. Skye watched in awe as she put her hand on the wheel in front of her, did something with a stick, and began backing up. He stared out the front window as she turned the wheel and jerked forward.

Unprepared, his whole body slammed backward, and he gripped the door handle with both hands. Then Lara turned the wheel, and they careened around a corner.

God’s teeth! What magic was this? To go so fast?

Lara cursed long and loud when the same wail he heard before flew up behind them. Skye looked over his shoulder to see whether the beautiful, magical lights were still flashing.

Lara talked to herself, twisting the wheel one way and then the other, “I know you’re behind me. How did you people find out so quickly? It isn’t possible.”

The cart slowed, and he braced himself for impact. They both tensed, albeit for different reasons, as the flashing lights and wail passed them. Lara’s breath exploded from her. She turned her head, shooting him a broad smile of relief. He didn’t understand what just happened, but he arched an eyebrow anyway.

She started the cart forward again. He heard every word Lara spoke in the quiet surrounding them. “What do I do? How do I get away? I have to have a plan. A plan. Where do I go?”

Skye couldn’t help her, for his stomach was beginning to feel nauseated. He turned to watch Lara drive the cart like a madwoman; except the longer he observed her, the more he realized she was in complete control.

He’d seen many different facets of her personality over the weeks since they met, but this was new. Lara was finally in control of her circumstances.

A birdlike shrill broke through her muttering. When it shrilled again, Skye glanced around, searching for an animal that could make such a sound. In consternation, he watched the woman root through the bag she’d packed.

It was then his stomach decided to rebel. The speed at which they propelled forward made his eyes become unfocused whenever he chanced a look outside. The trees and buildings passed in a blur, and he feared his body’s reaction. It was as if they flew down the road, dodging other carts when they would have halted their flight.

“I really can’t talk right now.” Lara had her left hand held to her face. The interruption made him forget the growing nausea for a second.

He said, “You are the one who has been speaking, not I.”

She flashed him an amused look, but said instead, “No, I really can’t.”

Silence met her words, then she answered a question he couldn’t hear. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you. I have someone from the other planet in the car with me now.”

Skye shook his head. Who was she speaking to? How could she speak to someone that wasn’t in the cart? And then he caught himself, reviewing what the woman said.

Car.

He looked around, taking in the lavish inside and the soft chairs. It was not a cart; it was called a car.

Glancing back at Lara as she spoke to a person he could not see, Skye thought about his bond with Eiren. Their bond allowed them to speak to each other, even if they weren’t in the same room. Perhaps this world had the same magical ability.

He tilted his head to the side and squeezed his eyes shut against the blur of scenery outside the windows. An explanation Lara had given to the High Council rose to the forefront of his mind. He uncurled one hand’s death grip on the chair and raised it to wipe the sweat from his face.

Why had she told the council that magic didn’t exist on her world? He witnessed its power everywhere he looked. He went rigid as another question hit him. How had he traveled to this Earth?