Author's Note: I have no pretensions about this story. It is nothing but pointless, vain self-indulgence. The original "Cassiopeia" was a Mary-Sue self-insert with horrible grammar and a worse plot (which can still be read under my old pen name, Laurie Makensri, if you're looking for a good laugh at my expense) that I wrote in junior high. I came across it last summer and decided it would be a fun little exercise if I tried to rewrite it. So I present my labors to you, the ultimate judges, for mockery and snickers (no, not the candy, though that does sound tasty). Enter at your own risk.

Disclaimer: I do not own anything that does not belong to me. If I did, I would be a thief. Not that there's anything wrong with thieves-- I was rooting for George all the way and if Rosto existed I would glomp him until he cried for mercy. But I am not a thief. The writer formerly known as Laurie Makensri, now Bradamante13, owns the title, character, plot, and everything that does not belong to Tamora Pierce. Because otherwise she would be a thief. That would make me a thief, and then we'd be running in circles and that would be just plain silly.

Cassiopeia

Chapter One: A Very Bad Day

This is a story about knights and ladies, kings and queens, pages and squires, Immortals and gods.

In short, it's about Tortall. So you can tell right off the bat it's going to be pretty wild.

The day the madness commenced just happened to be the spring equinox. It was Friday, lovely and sunny, uncommonly warm for mid-March in Iowa. All in all, it should have been a wonderful day for me. School had been less "blah" than usual, the teachers giving in to the general atmosphere of Friday craziness. I was due at my friend Jess's house for a sleepover in an hour, and she and Juls and I were planning all sorts of shenanigans. We were going to watch bad movies, dare each other to phone our crushes, and debate if Kel would end up with Neal or Cleon: the norm for three fifteen-year-olds at the bottom of the freshman food chain. There would be pepperoni pizza and copious amounts of sugar– two of my favorite things in the world. Juls was going to bring her entire Backstreet Boys collection, and we would laugh and scream and wake up Jess's brother.

But all was not right with the world. If it were, I wouldn't have found my way to the park and wandered into a little cusp of trees behind the swing set. Other people knew, of course, about this place– they had put in a bench, after all– but they didn't seem to care. So I slid past the kids and parents into my little grove. Pines, elms, a big oak; there was even an old purple lilac that would bloom in a few weeks. This was my spot, my thinking spot.

Odd as it sounds to consider a basic function of existence a hobby, I thought a lot, and not just the minimal amount that my classmates believed was wasted energy. I could wander away for a few hours and just walk around the neighborhood and think things through. I would suddenly realize that it was dark and I'd spent hours outside in the snow, and when I turned up my mother wouldn't say a word. She was used to it.

Today, though, my friends had wanted me to go to the mall with them, or something, something fun. A movie, maybe. I told them no. Today had already been bad, and I wanted to be alone. I needed to think, because today should have been good. But, of course, it wasn't. Because I'd woken up this morning and seen his face on the front page of the paper.

He was getting out, and I was pissed. He'd gotten ten years, and he should have to serve every damn one of them. But, no, in Iowa, voluntary manslaughter sentences were almost always reduced by half automatically. So five years was all he'd get, and my dad would spend the next five years, and the five after that, and the five after that, the next five hundred years, in his casket. Five years, and that stupid idiot who decided to drive home drunk that night would be out.

So I blame him for everything that happened next. If he hadn't made me so damn upset, I wouldn't have behaved irrationally. I wouldn't have seen that green spot in the lilac bush that looked "not right," and I sure as hell would not have gotten curious and stuck my arm in.

That was, of course, a big mistake, and everything started moving and spinning. I felt like I was being sucked into a giant vacuum. I thought my head would pop off, and I didn't feel anything– almost like I'd been sucked right out of existence– until the pain started, and fire was running through every muscle in my body– I was burning from the inside out, I wanted my mom, I wanted my mom, ow ow–

I hit the ground, hard. Something in my arm snapped as I landed. It was dark. I opened my eyes. Damn; it was still dark. I blinked a few times, and realized that I was in a forest. A clearing, I guess. And directly above me, in the suddenly cobalt sky, were six shining dots in the shape of a W. That was all I noticed before I blacked out. Helpful, huh?

---

So, the ground is hard. Roots stick in your back and wrench your muscles out of place. Little crawly things start moving and–

"Hey, Kel!"

"What is it?" Gasp. "Get Neal."

The ground started to shake, and it felt like every shift was intended specifically to bang me on the head. Tlot-ow, tlot-ow. I tried to lift my head, but my neck hurt, too. "Ohhhh," I moaned.

"Stay still."

"Okay," I croaked. That didn't feel too good, either. Opening my eyes was not worth the risk. "Would you mind giving me some morphine or killing me now?"

"What?"

"Everything hurts." Well, at least I don't usually sound like a frog, I thought. My luck I did now.

And then the tlot-ow, tlot-ow started again. Double.

"Gods, Kel, don't tell me you found another stray!"

"Stuff it, Neal, she's hurt. Get down here."

"I hope you know that I'm not a charity healer for every creature you pick up." Something touched my arm, and I croak-screamed. "Quiet," the same man said. "Don't fight me."

Healers are wonderful things. They kick in faster than aspirin, and they have more staying power. A marvelous numbness replaced the pain instantly, and I thought it might be worth it to open my eyes.

A young man with green eyes, brown hair, and a flared nose examined my face. On my other side, a younger girl, about my age, looked at the man, her hazel eyes worried.

"Better?" he asked. I nodded, very happy that I could move my head.

"I took care of the muscle ache and the joint pain, but you'll have to see a real healer for the break in your arm."

"You're not the real thing? I'd never know," I said, using the arm that hurt less to sit up. The girl immediately put her hands on my shoulders and helped me. The man took out a flask and held it to my lips. I regarded it a little suspiciously, then sniffed. Not alcohol, so I sipped. Water. I never thought water would make me so happy.

"Faleron," the girl said, in a loud, commanding tone, "you'd better tell the others that Neal and I will not be rejoining the party." The remark, I realized, was directed at a boy still seated on his horse, and when he answered, his voice was the same as the first that I'd heard. He turned the horse around and trotted off. I was immensely satisfied that I didn't feel every hoof beat in my already aching skull.

"Can you walk, mistress?" the girl asked. She glanced strangely at my clothing. Ok, I know that the jeans weren't the most flattering and my shirt was a little tight at the moment, but that look was really unnecessary. And at another time, I would have found it hysterical that she called me "mistress."

"I can try. I'll fall, but I can try," I replied. It was much easier to talk now that my throat wasn't coated with who-knows-what.

She smiled a little. "Then you had best stay here."

"Where is 'here'?" I asked carefully. I had never seen these people before, and I didn't think I was in Kansas– whoops, wrong state– Iowa anymore.

"You are in the Royal Forest, just outside of Corus," she answered.

I grinned, completely inane. "Hey, you rhymed."

The man rolled his eyes.

"You'd better come with us to the palace with us, mistress. It's not too far, and you'd see a real healer–"

I stopped in my tracks. "Palace? What?" I looked around– nothing was remotely familiar. "Say where I am again."

The man broke in, his voice tired. "If you just want her to rhyme again–"

I cut him off. "No, I don't. I promise. Ma'am, would you repeat where I am?" I was internally amazed that I was referring to this girl as "ma'am." I mean, who even uses that word?

"You're a little way outside of Corus."

"Corus where?"

"Corus, the capital of Tortall."

My legs gave out under me. That damn hard ground again. At that moment, I didn't notice I bruised my knees. This was not true. They were kidding. No other explanation. It was impossible. It couldn't be true– because if it was, I was in some deep shit.

"Tor– Tortall?" I stuttered.

I was saved from awkward questioning by a sudden torrent of hoof beats. Five boys on horses trotted into the clearing. A big redhead shouted, "Kel, Faleron told us you and Neal found a hurt girl, so we thought you might need some help!"

The girl– her being Kel made a lot of sense– narrowed her eyes and said, "Don't lie, Kennan. You just came to gawk, didn't you?"

Kennan– Cleon of Kennan, that is– smiled sheepishly. Another redhead said, "He may have come to gawk, Kel, but I came with the pure intention of helping you get the injured lady to the palace." Since he was grinning widely as he said this, I had a feeling he was joking. That and the fact that the Merric I knew (I assumed he was Merric) would never speak with such pomp.

As this exchange was going on, the boy from earlier– Faleron, whose glorious good looks had not been done justice in the books– had dismounted. He walked over to me and said, with a pointed glare at Neal (flared nose, green eyes, tall–it should have been so obvious), "Mistress, would you like a hand?"

Still not sure my legs would hold me, since they were shaking madly, I answered, "Thank you." Carefully he bent down and put his arm around my waist, holding my good hand with his. Because our audience mainly consisted of teenage boys, his performance earned quite a few whistles. Both he and Kel glared at them.

Neal cleared his throat, and everyone turned to him. "Kel, what should we do about this...situation?"

Kel sighed. "I suppose– mistress, what did you say your name was?"

"I didn't. It's Laurie Makensri."

"And, Mistress Makensri, where did you say you were from?"

"I didn't. Iowa."

"Where now?" Neal asked.

Oh, this would be fun. I should have told them I was a prostitute from Galla or a runaway princess from Carthak or an abused lady from a convent, I thought unhappily. That would take less explaining. "Can I explain later?" I asked.

"Of course. After you've seen a healer," Kel said firmly.

"Thank you." That was a relief. My arm was throbbing, even though the rest of me wasn't so bad anymore.

Kel glanced around at the horses and said, "Faleron, your mare's the most docile. Will she take another rider?"

Faleron grinned, his white teeth flashing in his tan face. "Of course. This way, mistress." He let go, and I braced myself for hitting that stupid ground again, but Faleron grabbed my waist before I did.

"Whoops," I said weakly. He smiled and left his arm where it was as he led me to his horse. It was a nice feeling. I decided that I liked being half-carried by handsome squires. I smiled gratefully and whispered, "Thank you."

My good feelings vanished when I saw the horse I was supposed to get on. To me, she looked awfully big. "Will you need help mounting, miss?" Faleron asked.

"Um..." The eternal question: ask for help and risk being seen as a sissy with no practical skills whatsoever (which I was) or attempt to prove my independent, tough true personality? "I think I can manage," I finished decisively. People could mount horses with broken arms. No biggie. He nodded and stepped away to give me room.

Now, I hadn't ridden a horse since I was eight, and my left arm was about as helpful as a wet Fruit Loop. So I put my right foot in the stirrup and grabbed the saddle horn with my right hand, planning to swing my other leg over, but my leg wouldn't bend that far (hitting the ground makes one a little stiff). So I tried to give a little hop with my right to get my leg to the other side. As you may imagine, that didn't work very well: I only saved myself from falling by grabbing the other side of the saddle with my right arm. The end result: me sprawled across the horse with both my legs and my left arm dangling uselessly; the squires, down to a one, laughing; and the horse turning her head and snorting irritably. I kicked my legs a bit, trying to find the stirrup again.

"Miss, would you like some help?" To Faleron's credit, he kept the laughing to a mild shaking of his voice.

"Oh, no," I replied cheerfully, still determined to prove I wasn't a total moron. "But, if you don't mind, could you give me a boost?"

"A...boost?"

"Yeah, just a little shove–"

He tugged at the saddle. "That would work, but if you don't mind..." He mounted normally, standing in the stirrups, and held me up while I righted myself and swung my leg over.

Once we were both settled, he said apologetically, "I know that was more difficult for you, Miss Makensri, but I appreciate your understanding."

This guy could not be real.

Throughout this very interesting– and no doubt entertaining– event, the squires had been chuckling and sometimes outright laughing. Now, with Kel and Neal mounted (they didn't make fools of themselves, but if they'd been in my condition, they so would have done the same thing), Faleron guided the horse back to the trail.

The tlot-tlot experience is much nicer on a horse's back than the ground. It's very soothing, like being rocked to sleep. And apparently my spectacular performance had convinced Faleron that I couldn't be trusted to keep myself on a horse, so his arm stayed around my waist. I liked that a lot. And I was tired. Pretty soon I was nodding off.

"I don't think we were properly introduced, mistress," he murmured. I had been on the verge of sleep, but I brought my sleepy mind back as soon as I heard his voice. He had a nice voice. Smooth and light. "I am Faleron of King's Reach, squire to Sir Adeon of Greenmount."

"I'm Laurie Makensri. Pleased to make your acquaintance." More than pleased, but I sure as hell wasn't going to say that.

"The pleasure is mine, Mistress Makensri."

"Call me Laurie." I shifted a little, trying to get as comfortable as possible—meaning as deeply snuggled in Faleron's chest as decorum would allow. "How far is it to the palace?"

"An hour's ride. We had gone quite a ways in the forest. That's where the best hunting is."

"Can I go to sleep, then?"

"Of course. You must be exhausted. I'm sorry."

"You shouldn't be. I've never met anyone as nice as you." God, tiredness is as good as an anesthetic to make you say things you shouldn't. Before he could think of something to say to that, I was asleep.

---

It felt like a minute later that I was woken up. "Mistr–"

"Laurie," I corrected.

I could hear him chuckle. "Laurie, we've arrived. Wait just a moment and I'll help you down." He slid to the floor of the stall and lifted me down. "Thank you," I said.

"My pleasure." He had to stop smiling or I'd do something very, very stupid—like grab him and command him to ravish me mercilessly in the haystacks right then and there. "Kel is going to take you to see a healer. Good luck, Laurie."

"Thank you," I said, trying not to be disappointed. I walked shakily out of the stall, but without any help. That was an improvement. Kel was waiting for me.

"Can you manage on your own?" she asked.

"Yeah, I think so," I answered. She nodded and led me out of the stables.

I know, cliche, but my jaw dropped. The descriptions in the books do not do justice to the enormity of the Royal Palace. I mean, any place that holds the Queen's Riders, Royal Guard, and all three companies of the King's Own, plus all the nobles who want to stay there, plus all their servants, has got to be huge. My careful, multiple readings of the Alanna and Daine books and First Test and Page did not do enough to prepare me for this.

It took a very long time to walk to the infirmary, and Kel walked fast. I had to try really hard to keep up with her. Before my legs gave out entirely, thankfully, we had arrived.

We were barely in the door before a man who very much resembled Neal appeared. "Ah, Keladry," he said with a smile. "It's good to see you. I hope that you are not in need of my ministrations again?"

Kel returned his smile and bowed. "No, your grace," she replied, "but I do have someone who is."

Duke Baird. I needed to get quicker on this uptake thing. Really, this was just embarrassing. Another part of my mind murmured, You just dropped into a world you didn't think existed. Give yourself time to catch up.

It was far easier just to ignore that bit of information and berate myself for being ditzy.

The Duke turned to me and I saw his eyebrows quirk in surprise; I wondered why. Well, duh. There's the uptake thing again. I had been outside for who knows how long, my hair must have been a mess, my face was scratched up, my abnormal clothing was covered in dirt, and I was cradling a broken arm to my chest. Adding to this vision of insanity, I did my best to curtsy, which ended with Kel having to keep me from falling down.

With a final, confused look, the Duke turned from me to my companion. "You're in luck, Keladry. I'll take care of your friend myself. Come along, my dear." He led me to a bed nearby and told me to sit. "And you are...?"

"Laurie, Your Grace."

"Laurie. What seems to be the trouble?"

"I think I broke my arm, Your Grace. I fell," I added hurriedly.

"Well, that is easily taken care of. This may sting." He put his hands on my arm, and I could feel my bones crack back into place. The feeling didn't bother me so much as the sound of my muscles sploshing against each other and the pieces of bone grinding back together. Besides, I was generally good at blocking out pain. Before I knew it, my arm had stopped hurting.

"There you are," the Duke said. "You handled it very well."

"It didn't hurt much," I told him. "The sound is a little unnerving, though."

The look he gave me was not so much sharp as alert. "Yes, it can be." He cleared his throat and turned to Kel. "Thank you, Keladry."

Obviously recognizing her dismissal, Kel bowed and left. Duke Baird turned back to me.

"Laurie, if you don't mind, I believe that it would be best if you stayed here for a night, just so I can keep my eye on you. Your body suffered a good deal of trauma from your...fall. Nothing too bad," he amended, seeing my anxiety, "just some bone bruises and the like. But I think it would be beneficial if you had some rest."

I nodded. "All right." Rest sounded very good right now.

"I'll have a servant bring you some clean clothes, and– you can wash yourself?"

I nodded, too tired to explain that I was a big girl and would not be subjected to the indignity of being given a bath.

"Do you have anyone that will miss you?" he asked. He meant it casually, with "miss you" meaning "mind that you're gone for a little," not, "care that you're gone." But it hurt anyway.

I drew patterns on the sheet with my finger. Circles, diamonds, and spirals-- nice and simple. If I concentrated on those, then I wouldn't have to think yet. And as an added bonus, if I kept my eyes down, no one could tell that I was crying.

"No. You won't be able to find them." My voice shook. Flowers, figure eights, stars.

The Duke waited a moment before replying. "I see," he finally said. "We will speak again when you've had a chance to rest."

He left, and that was when I let myself cry a little.

---

I could see the stars outside of the window. I rolled over, still uncomfortable. Dammit. It wasn't fair. Three different disgusting potions and they hadn't thought to put a sleep aid in any of them. Really, who forgets to knock out the patients?

I'd slept a little after Duke Baird left. A few minutes after I woke, a woman– I think her name was Taya-- came over and led me to a back room, where they had a big wooden bucket that I guess passed for a bath tub. At least I got to clean up.

She handed me a change of clothes– a plain, undyed shift and underwear– and took me back to my bed. I really didn't want the food she brought, but I ate some of it anyway. Maybe if I looked healthy they'd let me go sooner, and I could find a way home.

I needed to get home. Mom would be freaking out. She didn't need more drama in her life. Shouldn't the sudden death of your husband and raising a teenager alone create enough problems? Not that she'd been entirely "there" since Dad died. I kept telling her to see a therapist or something, and she always said that she was fine. She thought I couldn't tell when she was lying.

So instead of sleeping, because some moron forgot to add some Benadryl or its Tortallan equivalent to my nasty potions, I'd lain awake for the last several hours, trying to figure out how to get home.

The first thing would be to ask Kel or Neal to take me back where they found me. They should be able to find it. If they wouldn't help me, then I'd just have to take my chances. What did I remember about the place I woke up? Oh, yeah: nothing. It had been dark and my head hurt, and my powers of observation aren't always that skillful anyway. I'd slept on the ride back, so I couldn't retrace my steps, either.

Wait, maybe first I should try to figure out what happened. A portal? They talked about one of those in The Realms of the Gods, but that had been between the mortal and immortal worlds. I didn't know if it worked the same way between mortal realms. I supposed that must have been what happened. I mean, no way in hell was I still in my world. It was the only plausible (yeah, right) explanation.

So I'd managed to step into a portal. I thought only gods could make those. Or maybe the rules of the universe were just completely ignored in my case. Yeah, that'd be my luck.

My luck! Hey, I was in Tortall! I'd met Kel and Neal and Cleon and Merric and Duke Baird and I'd been hit on by Faleron of King's Reach! It wasn't all that bad!

Except for being in pain. And knowing that my mom was scared for me, and that she wouldn't remember to check the expiration date on the milk without me, and the frightening thought (which I refused to entertain) that I may never get home.

I needed to sleep. I couldn't do anything if I was exhausted. But I couldn't fall asleep, either. Stupid conundrums. I hated being awake when I didn't want to be. At home, when things went wrong, I went to sleep. Not the best way to deal with my problems, but at least dreams are usually kinder than reality. Except now I couldn't sleep. As I said before, unfair.

OK, in all those fics the main characters are always extremely concerned for the OC's welfare. They take time off from all their other duties to nurse the OC back to ass-kicking health. So Duke Baird had kind of done that, but where was Kel to be my new best friend? Where was Numair to throw himself headlong into figuring out my problem? And jeez, where was Faleron to develop the not-so-subtle sexual tension? I had just fallen out of the friggin sky. I was entitled to all that crap.

Of all the Tortalls to step into, I had to step into the one where I was an insignificant nobody.

Well, there wasn't much I could do to change that. I could get angsty later. But, as for getting home...

And just as my thoughts were getting somewhere, I finally fell asleep.

---

That stupid bell. Why would they do something so stupid like put a bloody huge bell in the middle of the palace and ring it at the freaking ass-crack of dawn? There were people who needed every bit of beauty sleep they could get, thank you! And I did not need to be woken up so rudely! You would think that, just once, I could sleep until I woke up naturally, but no– the closest I'd come was being gently awoken by a hot squire with an obvious thing for me–

So maybe that hadn't been so bad. But the rest of it sucked.

Especially that bell.

With a groan, I resigned myself to the fact that I was awake and would not go back to sleep. So I pulled myself up and tried to figure out what to do.

My thoughts went in circles: portals, gods, home, Mom, the clearing, stupid bell, back to portals...

So maybe not so much circles as totally unrelated topics that I just thought about randomly. Analysis was never my strong point.

As I was jumping to point K (damn bell) again, Taya brought me breakfast. Nice, mushy porridge. She tried to ask me questions about myself, being a friendly and rational morning person (I bloody hated her), but I was pretty unresponsive. I think that she figured out I was annoyed when I started dropping spoonfuls back into the bowl from higher and higher distances with the intent of splattering as much on her as possible. Yeah, I know, childish. But it was early, I didn't have any idea what to do, and I wanted my mom. Short of that, I wanted to be alone. At least it worked; she left and let me finish my breakfast in broody peace.

About an hour later, Duke Baird came in. He smiled at me cheerfully. "Hello, Laurie," he said. "How does your arm feel?"

I shrugged. "Fine." I paused. "Listen, can I go soon? I've got to..." I trailed off, realizing that I still didn't know what I had to do.

"Got to what?" he asked. I think he could tell what I was feeling. As if I'd wandered into a swamp, but hadn't worried because I had a map to get me home, and then suddenly realized that the map was written in Chinese.

After a few moments, he continued. "Laurie, if you don't mind, I have a few things I'd like to discuss with you. May I?" He gestured to a nearby stool, and I nodded that he could sit. He did, and his manner told me that I should get comfortable.

"First, Laurie," he said slowly, "I would like to know about you. There are some questions I'd like to ask you, but those can wait. Just...tell me about yourself."

That was unexpected. "Well," I began, "my name is Laurie Makensri. I'm fifteen. My mother's name is Susan." I started drawing on the sheets again. There wasn't much else to tell.

"Your father?" he asked carefully.

"He died a few years ago." It was strange how saying that never got easier.

"I am sorry for your loss." He said it so well that I almost believed him. "Is there anything else you'd like to tell me? Where you are from, perhaps?"

I considered lying, but then I made the mistake of looking up. His eyes held genuine concern for me. He really did want to help me. That made it so much harder to lie.

I chose my words carefully. "Is there...a test you can do...to see if a person is sane?" That threw him off. I cut in as he opened his mouth. "Because what I'm going to say, you're not going to believe me, and you'll think I'm crazy. I want some way to prove that I'm not before I say anything."

The Duke took a deep breath. "I would have sensed any of your mental problems yesterday if you had any. I didn't. Whatever you tell me, I will believe you."

I eyed him suspiciously. "Are you sure?"

"I am sure, Laurie, that I have heard more shocking things that whatever you will tell me."

OK. Here goes. I took a deep breath. "I don't think that I'm from this world."

I would have expected him not to believe me, or pretend to listen whilst motioning someone over with a Tortallan tranquilizer. I was ready to argue my point, to stand my ground, to defend my sanity. In short, I was ready for anything but a slight eyebrow quirk and a quiet command to go on.

So, I told the truth. I started with going to my thinking spot, explained that I was angry and not thinking straight, then that I shoved my arm into a strange-looking lilac bush and was sucked through time and space to land in a clearing right off the best hunting trail in the Royal Forest. It didn't take nearly as long as I had thought it would.

I finished with, "And then I came here." Lame, but that wasn't my biggest worry at the moment. Duke Baird was silent for a minute or so. I was just about to tell him that if he'd kindly point me in the correct direction I'd show myself to the asylum when he finally spoke.

"Well," he said, "that explains why you were wearing pink shoes."

Doh.

"Um, yeah, they're called sneakers, Converses, actually, they're pretty popular–"

He held up his hand to stop me. "Do you have anything else to say, Laurie, of greater relevance than the popularity of your shoes?" I was about to get angry when I realized that he was joking with me.

Whoa. "Just, Your Grace, my sincere relief that you don't appear to be beckoning for a soothing drink." If he could make a joke, then so could I. So there.

He smiled. "Since that has been established, I think we should move on to other matters." His eyes were very green, and at the moment, very kind. "I understand that it may be too soon for you to want to consider these matters, but I won't be able to keep you here under the guise of a healing arm for much longer. I would appreciate it if you would let me finish before you say anything." I nodded.

"Yesterday when you came in, I noticed that you had some strange injuries on your body. Some were consistent with a fall, but some, like your deep bone bruises and general muscle strain, made no sense at all. And then when I healed your arm, I noticed trace amounts of substances in your body that I couldn't identify." He smiled as he added, "After twenty years of healing, there are few substances that I don't recognize.

"You told me then that the healing had not hurt too much. That was not too odd, but the fact that you could hear your bones moving was. Most people can't. I think that you have a healing Gift. I would like to have someone check for me, but I'm worried now that they may see that your body has a few– anomalies.

"That ties in with my next thought. What you said about this...portal...completely confounds me. However, I have limited most of my magical experience to healing. An advanced academic mage might be able to help you. There is a man who lives in the palace named Numair Salmalin. He is one of the greatest mages in the world, and he might know if this sort of thing has happened before. He is, though, out of the palace at the moment, and may be for some months."

Dammit. Numair so could have helped me. I was surprised that I hadn't thought of it myself, except for being offended that he hadn't just popped up and offered. Just my luck that he was probably off visiting his parents or something.

"I can try to discreetly discover if any of the other mages know something, but, until then, I believe that you may be stuck here. However," he added as my face fell, "I have a proposition for you. Can you read and write?" I nodded, resisting the urge to say "duh." Literacy wasn't as common in Tortall. "Good. My records keeper just left me for a better position, and since I am already short on healers, I can't ask one of my apprentices to do it as well. It doesn't pay very well, but it does provide room and board, and I think we can arrange to find you some clothing. It would give you something to do until we can send you home."

I started drawing on the sheets yet again. So now I had options: I could set off blindly on my own, trying to find a portal that may or may not exist, or I could take a job, earn money, and get help along the way. But Mom, my friends...

Trying to ignore the wrenching feeling in my chest, I looked up at Duke Baird. Quietly, I answered, "I'll do it."