Once my eyes adjusted to being on the other side, I scanned the area around me. We were in a glade filled with deep snows. I was incredibly glad I was wearing those boots. Terry was the only one having any real trouble in the snow, since two of us had magic boots and Gregor had crafted some rudimentary snowshoes.

“Do you hear that?” Burin asked us suddenly.

I focused and listened. “It sounds like shouting. The voices sound panicked.”

“Yes, perhaps a battle,” Gregor agreed.

“Should we –“ I began to say to Burin, but he was already on his way.

“Go,” Gregor said to me. “Only a few feet til the tree line and girl should be fine in smaller snows. I’ll come right behind you once I’ve gotten her there.”

I nodded and followed Burin. We moved quickly and soon came to another break in the trees. It might have been a road, though I couldn’t tell with all the snow. Also, it was hard to focus on what the clearing was, what with the giant mantis trying to eat a woman, while a horrified man was desperately fighting to save her.

Burin moved quickly to help, but I could do something from where I was. I began to focus, gathering some of the energy from the reservoir of arcane power I maintained within my own blood.

An arcanist is different from most wizards and sorcerers because we focus on what Daddy calls the three As: Amplification, Alteration and Adaptability.

Our adaptability means we can change our daily preparations in ways sorcerers cannot, but we also don’t marry any individual daily casting to a specific spell like wizards.

Alteration refers to our ability to play with the rules of magic. Arcanists train to know which rules can be bent and which can be broken, and more importantly, just how to do so using the arcane power we stored within every day.

And then there’s amplification. All arcanists learn to use the power we store within to increase the strength of our spells. But some of us play around with it, and learn that we can amplify things other than our spells, if we can just figure out how.

That was the puzzle I’d solved just before coming through the portal. I’d figured out how to amplify something. I quickly pulled forth a small amount of the magic within and focused it in an area just in front of me. Then I reached my hand into the floating, invisible ball of magic and snapped my fingers.

A coherent beam of sound shot out from my hand, slamming into the mantis. It cut through its exoskeleton, drawing ichor. Then Burin was upon it, slamming his axe into the creature’s side.

The man managed to pull the woman from the mantis’ claws. It wheeled around and struck at Burin, grabbing him. He’s got a perfect record for being grabbed by giant creatures at this point. At least this one didn’t have cheek pouches to stuff him into.

Gregor arrived just in time for the end of the fight. Terry also tried to help, but her shot was only a grazing blow. But in the end, the mantis was no match for us. Burin extricated himself from the claws, then once he was sure the woman was okay – I’d healed her with my wand – he hacked one of the claws off.

“Do you think we can eat this?” the dwarf asked, holding up his prize.

Gregor clapped him on the shoulder. “Friend, this I do not know. What I do know is that we are going to try anyway.”

Terry stumbled over to us. She looked dizzy. “Oh, yay. Now we’re eating bugs. That sounds just great.” Then she threw up.

I wasn’t a doctor, but it looked like she had teleportation sickness. It’s rare, but some people can’t handle the sudden shift in barometric pressure, elevation and possibly even subtle shifts in the magnetic fields of differing locations. At least I think that’s what I remember from the lecture on teleportation.

The short of it was that she’d probably be fine with teleporting less than a few miles, while anything over a hundred would likely cause problems. Which meant we were quite a ways from Heldren, though I already knew that thanks to having studied Golarion’s geography before coming here. Teleporting from Taldor to Irrisen is something akin to going from Turkey to the UK in distance. I think. I saw maps once for a bit. I can name the countries. I even know the major exports of a few of them.

Like you’d do any better if you had to memorize two worlds’ worth of nations.

The woman who we’d rescued thanked us. She had an accent similar to Gregor’s and spoke a language I didn’t entirely recognize. But I could make out words here and there – thank God I got Mama’s language genes, even if I didn’t get the full mutation – and Gregor did understand her.

She switched to speaking Taldan for our benefit. “Apologies. I am Nadya Petska. There is little time to talk right now. A storm is coming. Please, as thanks for saving me, join us at our camp and take shelter against the cold. You, especially, look like you could use some shelter,” she said to me.

I laughed. “Actually, I’m used to the cold, so it doesn’t bother me. Also, I have magic boots.”

“I see. Nonetheless, let us move quickly to shelter.”
I helped Terry through the snow as we made our way to Nadya’s camp, safely within a copse of trees.

There were five dogsleds – all pulled by what looked like Siberian huskies! – and several guards, though I hesitate to call them such. Based on the clothing and gear, they were likely simply a band of local hunters who were out hunting game for their village.

No wonder they were out of their depths with the giant mantis. Honestly, it probably wasn’t even a native, but instead a Taldan transplant that had wandered through the portal into the northlands.

Maybe that’s why there had been a moose in Taldor? Had the fairies brought it with them?

As we sat down at the fire, I suddenly realized that I felt exhausted. Had I caught whatever was making Burin cough so much? Ugh. And Terry threw up again as we’d traveled, which was making me a bit queasy.

If I felt a little out of it, Terry was obviously far worse off. She seemed a bit delirious. “Tell me about Baba Yaga,” she said to Nadya.

“What? Why do you speak the name of the queen of witches?”

“Because on the other side of the portal, there was this rider guy in black and he was all, ‘Baba Yaga this’ and ‘Baba Yaga that’ and I think now we have to go find her.”

“You’ve spoken with Baba Yaga’s Black Rider?”

“Oh yeah. Apparently her daughter Elvanna has been naughty and needs a spanking. I think. Excuse me a moment.” Then she threw up in the snow. Well, it was mostly dry heaving. But you get the idea.

I remembered something and pulled Gregor aside. “Hey, do you still have that potion you bought in town?” He and the others had picked up a potion of disease curing while in Heldren. They’d bought it since we’d encountered the illness in the lodge.

“Yes. You are thinking girl needs it?”

The way I felt, I could probably use it, but Terry needed it more. “Yes, please get her to drink it, if you would, Gregor.”

“I know exact right way to do this.”

Gregor poured the potion into his hip flask, which he’d given quite a few drinks to the kid from. He then approached her and offered her a drink, telling her it would settle her stomach. She took a full swig of the contents. I could see an immediate and marked improvement, though she still looked a little green around the gills.

“So, what brings you out here, Nadya?” I asked, just trying to make conversation.

“My daughter is… missing. I’m doing what I can to get her back.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. We’re traveling a lot. We could keep an eye out for her. Tell me, what’s her name?”

“I’d appreciate that. Her name is Thora.”

My blood ran cold. I didn’t know what to say. My mind ran at full speed, desperately trying to find something to say that would make things less awkward. But I couldn’t find anything.

I was saved by the arrival of a visitor to the camp. I recognized immediately what she was. She was a forlarren, the offspring of a nymph and a fiend. And worse, she was winter-touched. Now, look, I don’t want to judge someone by accidents of their birth. Tieflings are oppressed all over Golarion by the prejudices of people, even in Absalom after Daddy had spent all that time trying to improve their situation.

But what people need to understand is that fiends are true embodiments of evil, and the odds that one of their direct offspring would be evil as well are extremely high. And winter fey seemed to fall into the evil end of the pool as well.

That said, her stated reason for joining us – getting out of the storm – could be the truth. It was entirely possible that she had no ulterior motives. But it didn’t hurt to keep on our toes. I warned Gregor about my suspicions. He promised to be ready at the first sign of trouble.

My paranoia was raised further fairly quickly, as it didn’t take long for her to take an interest in us. That might have been Burin’s fault. He was trying to be friendly. Too friendly. It honestly looked like it was creeping the poor girl out.

The forlarren, who had introduced herself as Mierul, spoke to us. “So, tell me about yourselves. You don’t appear to be from around here.”

“These are my relatives,” Nadya said quickly.

“I want you to be my mommy!” Terry said, still delirious. Apparently magic potions don’t cure teleportation sickness. Or maybe she was just tired.

The fey ignored her. “What brings you here?”

“They’re just visiting,” Nadya insisted.

It wasn’t working. “Please, dear cousin, it’s okay, we can tell her the truth. We’re fur traders. We thought we’d come up here and do some hunting. Some exotic furs could bring in massive profits from the noble houses of Magnimar. That we had a relative up here whose hospitality we could take advantage of was simply a bonus.”

Gregor, understanding what I was doing, pulled out the remaining weasel fur. “Is very good quality. We are hoping to get much for it.”

“Also, we’re here to kill witches,” Burin said.

The entire camp went completely silent. No one spoke. None of the dogs made a sound. The wind stopped howling. The fire stopped crackling.

Actually, I think I may have just gone completely deaf out of shock for a moment there.

“Please ignore dwarf,” Gregor said. “He is, as they say, touched in head.”

“Also, he has been drinking. Because he’s a dwarf. It’s a thing they do.” Yeah, I know. I was bad for saying it. But sometimes, stereotypes are true. Dwarves liking beer is one of those.

“I…see…” the fey said, her voice suspicious.

“Friend,” Gregor said to Burin as he kept trying to talk.

“I’ve been meaning to show you game I have been working on. Please, join me over here.” It kinda looked like they were playing Jenga, but with bigger blocks.

Nadya quickly tried to change the subject. “Tell me, traveler, have you any tales to share?”

“I can spin a yarn, or perhaps we might do better with a song. I noticed an instrument case. Would the player like to join me?”

“That belongs to my sister,” I said, indicating Terry, who had fallen asleep leaning on Nadya’s shoulder.

“But I think it best that we let her rest.”

“A solo performance it is.”

That wouldn’t do. As I understand, you can do a lot of thinking while playing. I needed to distract her further. “Do you know anything with a high tempo?”

She looked at me quizzically and played a bar. “Will that do?”

“It’s fine.” I was exhausted, but I danced along with the music. It wasn’t great, but passable. I worked the crowd as best I could, even doing my best to flirtatiously catch the fey’s attention.

When it was done, the fey thanked me for joining in and made her way to the edge of camp to retire. She dropped a small bag as she left. Gregor quickly grabbed it and we stealthily looked through it. He handed me a potion to investigate. I detected an aura of magic in it, and identified it as a potion used to hide one’s alignment. A useful thing for an evil creature, that.

There were also several books, though only one really stood out to me. “The Science of Reanimation by Chemical Means,” I read the title out loud. “By Herbert West.” It was an exotic book. For some reason, even when we replaced everything else in the bag and laid it back in the snow, I kept that book. I was curious about it, perhaps almost even compelled to read it.

As exhausted as I was, I even spent an hour reading it before bed. It told the story of a researcher on a far-away world who had discovered the means to bring someone back to life via injection of a potion of some kind, but it had unfortunate consequences every time. It was a pretty interesting read.

I don’t think I was asleep for long before I woke to the feeling of someone touching me. Terry had cuddled up next to me, which was cute, but she was also grabbing one of my breasts – and not in an innocent way – which was not.

“Hey,” I said, pushing her away. “Go back to your own bedroll.” She mumbled something. I think I heard the name Penelope. I shook her harder. “Terry. Go back to your own bedroll.”

Her eyes opened, she looked at me, then threw up on me. I walked her back to her own bedroll and used my magic to clean myself off. Daddy was right. That really was the most useful spell. I still wanted a bath, though.

Once again clean, even if I didn’t feel like I was, I went back to bed.

I woke up in what looked like a basement, but also like some kind of operating room. Or maybe it was a morgue? Those are often in basements and have these kinds of tables. Cadaver tables, I think they’re called.

Had I died? Was I a zombie? I thought for a few moments. No, there was no craving for brains. I looked down at my body. No stitches or other signs of wounds. But I was wearing a cheerleader’s outfit.

A really skimpy one.

Honestly, if it hadn’t been for the weirdness of where I’d woken up, I would have been excited about the whole situation. I looked damn good. Not an ounce more body fat than necessary, but just enough to give me an ass worth grabbing.

The front of my top read “M U”, though I couldn’t tell what university it meant. The colors were dark green, white and black. Deciding that I’d spent enough time checking myself out, I looked for a door and made my way upstairs and out into what appeared to be commons of a university. It was late afternoon, going into early evening. The sun was beginning to set, casting long shadows across the campus.

And there was no one around.

I saw a light in a building across the clearing and made my way over. “Miskatonic University,” I said, reading the writing on the glass door aloud. “Arkham, Massachusetts.” When had I come back to Earth? Was the invasion over? What had happened with the whole Baba Yaga thing?

I wasn’t going to get answers staring at a door, so I went inside and made my way upstairs, seeking the room with the light on. I walked through a hall, my footsteps echoing off the generic white tile floors and off-white painted walls.

At last, I came to a door with light coming out through the bottom. The plaque on the door read “Faculty Lounge”. I knocked and then opened it. I was not quite prepared for what I saw.

My godmother was sitting there, having a glass of tea. Sitting at the table across from her was the gnome I’d seen in that strange dream. He was eating what looked like an IHOP kid’s breakfast. The one where they make a smiley face with the pancakes.

“Auntie ‘Mantha? Mister Gnome? What are you doing here?”

My godmother laughed. “I believe we should be the ones asking you that. You’re in the Dreamlands, child. I live here, and Gribbletoo here wanted to come over for tea. Which he hasn’t drunk.” She gave him a pointed look.

Gribbletoo? Hadn’t I heard that name before? I was having trouble remembering where, though.

“I’m eating my pancakes!” the gnome protested. “I’ll drink the tea after.”

“It’s gonna get cold.” My godmother was taking this tea thing way too seriously.

“Your wife’s brother drinks his with ice and way too much sugar and cream.” Wait. Did he mean Daddy?

“He also drinks his milk with strawberry syrup. What’s your point?” Yeah, they were talking about Daddy.

I decided that they would probably circle around this conversation all day. “Speaking of Daddy, have you heard from him? Do you have any idea how things are on Earth?”

My godmother sighed. “It’s pretty bad. But the weird part is that the aliens that are attacking are way out of their normal territory. Something must have prodded them in that direction. Or someone.”

“You sound like you have suspicions.”

“Yeah. Your father REALLY pissed off Lamashtu. I can’t find any proof, of course, since even she’s not stupid enough to risk getting caught attacking Earth and violating the treaty. But I’d bet it was her anyway.”

So we had a goddess against us. I was beginning to feel even worse. “Is there anything you can do?”

“Not without violating the treaty myself.”

The way she said it suggested something to me.

“But you’re trying to think of something anyway.”

“Lyriana! I’m shocked at you! What a horrible yet completely accurate thing to accuse me of!” She was laughing pretty hard. I couldn’t help but laugh along.

“So, what does bring you here, my dear?”

“She’s visiting the dreams of her adventuring party,” Gribbletoo said, his mouth still half full.

My godmother laughed again. “Ah, that old gem. Been reading tomes of eldritch knowledge, finding a way in through horrific psychic trauma they’ve experienced?”

Was that what I was doing? “I, uh, guess?”

“It’s not on purpose?! Oh, man, that’s hilarious! Well, the Dreamlands aren’t a safe place to just wander about. Be careful, and watch out for the guy with the mirrors on his shoes.”

“Is he dangerous?”
“Dangerous? No, not really. Nodens is just a pervert. He’ll try to get a look at your panties.”

“Well, good luck with that,” I said impishly. “I don’t think I’m wearing any.”

My godmother spit out tea as she began laughing again. “Yeah, you’ll be just fine.”

If she believed I’d be okay, I wasn’t worried. “Well, I guess I should get to finding the doors I need, if that’s what I’m here for.”

“Good luck!” Gribbletoo pulled on her sleeve. “What?”

“It’s dangerous to go alone,” the gnome said.

“True enough.” She walked over to a locker and opened it. She reached in and pulled something out and handed it to me. “Here, take this.”

I looked at the adorable little ball of fur in her hands.

“A kitten?” I asked, taking it from her.

She shrugged. “Cats are some of the most powerful creatures in the Dreamlands. She can keep you safe.”

The kitten yawned and stretched in my hands. “Does she have a name?”

“No,” the cat replied, her voice adorable. “But you can give me one, if you’d like?”

I looked her over. She was a beautiful black kitten covered in white flecks. She almost looked like a starscape in adorable cat form. “Nebula,” I said. She would be my adorable little space kitty.

The kitten hopped up onto my shoulder and nuzzled my cheek. “I like it!” she said enthusiastically in her adorable voice.

My godmother clapped me on the other shoulder. “I can’t wait until your parents find out I got you a pet. Kyle’s going to freak out about the carpets. It’s gonna be great!”

Oh wow. She was right. I was going to have to get my own apartment if I came back with a cat. On the other hand, I couldn’t abandon Nebby, my adorable widdle kitty puff. And she was going to protect me in the Dreamlands, apparently. Somehow.

I’m not even sure my bunny slippers would fear her.
I bid farewell to my benefactors – making sure to remember to thank Gribbletoo for the syrup from before – and began wandering through the campus. Eventually, I found a door to a lecture hall that was unlocked and let myself in.

There was a young girl standing in a crowd of people.

She was preternaturally still as the crowds flowed about her. I looked harder, and it was Terry, though there were some differences. Her expression was strikingly different. The Terry I knew had a grim look, as if she were someone who had seen far more than her young age. This Terry looked completely innocent.

She was also hanging from strings, like a marionette. And wearing a yellow coat. Did it have something to do with that book she’d touched? She’d acted like it freaked her out, even just touching it. Which was weird. It was nothing but a silly story.

There was another figure standing unmoving, off on the sidewalk. He was staring at Terry, his face frozen in a terrified scream. Looking at him, I could see a resemblance. Perhaps this was Terry’s father? Was this a memory of her past in some way? A recollection of her parents’ agony at her being forced to be a soldier for the mob?

I tried interacting with both of them, but they were stuck completely, as if they’d frozen into reality itself. Nebby and I decided we wouldn’t find much else here, so we moved on.

The next interesting event occurred when we entered a commons courtyard between some buildings. We found ourselves upon a hill that looked familiar yet unfamiliar at the same time. Down the hill below us was a dwarf. From his white hair, I immediately knew it was Burin we were seeing.

I tried to call out to him, but he didn’t hear me.

Instead, I watched as his shadow began to lengthen in the rapidly setting sun, only to continue growing even after the sun set. Soon, pulled away from the ground it was projected on, becoming a massive form, towering over the dwarf.

“I WILL BE FREE!” roared the shadow.

“I can’t allow that!” Burin shouted back, swinging his axe at the gigantic, horned shade.

“YOU CANNOT CONTAIN ME!”

“Then I’ll find a way to destroy you, once and for all!”

The two battled on and on, as if it were a dance both knew the steps to well.

“Nebby, is there a way I can help?” I asked. “I haven’t been able to intervene in other dreams, but I have to do something!”

The kitten regarded me. “This is a dream,” she said.

“A conscious mind has some power here, if you can wield it. Shape the dream-stuff to your will.”

Okay. Shape the dream stuff. But how? And into what? What would work against a shadow? Light maybe? Could I create a light from nothing? I focused, but nothing happened.

Perhaps it wasn’t creation I needed, but change. Could I strengthen some lights? But what lights? There wasn’t even a moon out. All that left was stars.
I looked up. It wasn’t right. The stars weren’t right.

They should be more recognizable. It frustrated me. I wished they’d change.

And just like that, they did. They were just like the stars at home, complete with all the recognizable constellations. “What did you do?!” the cat hissed in shock.

“Now the stars are right,” I said with a grin. And then the stars began falling from the sky. One by one, tumbling down.

Blazing light filled the night as meteors struck around us, in random areas. There was no shockwave of impact, no heat of entry. Just blinding luminescence.

The shade recoiled in pain from the light, and Burin gained the upper hand. He would have no trouble beating his foe this time.

“That’s one way to do it,” Nebula said, giving me a curious look. “Let’s continue on. It feels like there’s one more dreamer waiting for you.”

I found myself once more within the halls of the school. I wandered around for a bit longer, eventually coming to the gymnasium. I made my way inside and found myself within the walls of Gregor’s monastery once again.

There were bodies strewn all about. I heard the sound of seven sharp thunderclaps, but there was no lightning. I followed the sound and found Gregor squaring off with the faceless figure, who I could see a bit more now. His clothing looked almost familiar, like one of those Russian Orthodox priest robe thingies.

Gregor charged and was immediately rebuked. “You think you can beat me? Your master tried and failed to kill me. What makes you think a simple student will do better?”

“God of Martial Arts, give me strength!” the fighter prayed, then charged once more. He was immediately thrown back against a wall.

The faceless figure turned to me. “You return? A foolish choice.” He closed the distance instantly. I felt his hand around my throat as he lifted me into the air with one hand. “I will kill you tonight and every night for eternity!”

Nebula didn’t like that one bit. The kitten grew instantly into a full grown cat and let out an angry hiss, then leapt from my shoulder straight at the figure’s head. She clawed his faceless head twice, drawing rivulets of blood.

In his surprise, the figure let me go. I stumbled backward as I caught my breath. Nebula put herself between me and our enemy. “A cat?!” the figure roared. “You think a cat can stop me?!”

I had to laugh. “I have it on good authority that cats are among the most powerful of creatures within the Dreamlands.”

“What a delightfully marvelous thing to say,” Nebula commented. Her form shifted once more. She was no longer a simple cat, but instead a full sized catfolk. She looked like something out of an anime. Even the clothes she now wore looked like a school uniform.

“Sorcery!” the figure roared. It began casting a spell, though I couldn’t quite tell what it was.

Nebula was quicker. She pounced upon him and knocked him to the ground. Then she tore out his throat with her massive, finger-like claws. Nebby turned and gave me a Cheshire grin, then returned to her kitten form and bounded up into my arms.

“Is he dead?” I asked.

“Nightmares can be dispelled, but they always return,” she purred as I lovingly scratched under her chin.

“So what now?” I asked.

“There’s still time left to dream. What would you like to dream about?”

“Do you think either of Miskatonic’s swim teams might be here late doing some practice in some nice, tight speed suits?”

The kitten lightly patted my nose with her paw. Then she nuzzled me with her face. “I don’t think so, but I think I heard about a party tonight at a fraternity.”

I could work with that! “Woo! TOGA TOGA TOGA!” I chanted.

Nebula sighed and leaped on my shoulder. “That way!” she said, pointing. I must admit, it wasn’t a bad party until someone threw up in the fish tank.

I woke up and prepared my spells for the day, then grabbed some breakfast. Reheated grilled mantis is not a good idea, FYI. I was glad I had all those tubes of food goo.

The forlarren bard bid her farewells. Burin saw her off. “You take care now, whatever your name was!” he shouted with a wave.

“Should I ask about her?” Terry asked, taking a sip from her massive mug of coffee. “Or has Burin simply decided he wants to sleep with a goat now?”

Gregor looked up from his breakfast. “Once, at monastery, there was man who kept sneaking off, night after night. Rest of students certain he had girl he was visiting, but he would not tell us about her. One night, several of us follow, to see this girl, learn why he wouldn’t talk of her. We followed him to farm. Having heard many stories of farmer’s daughters, we were prepared to cheer him on, but surprised with what we find.”

“Was she hideous?” Terry asked.

“This is what I’m saying. Was no girl. Found him in goat pens, with pants around ankles.”

“Was he doing some kind of training?” Burin asked, having only just returned to us.

Gregor gave him a serious look. “Yes. Had pioneered new style of combat. Involved much grappling.” Terry choked on her coffee. I did my best not to laugh.

“Oh. Did you ever learn that style?” I don’t think Burin had caught on.

“No, was not for me. Prefer combat with pants on.”

“That makes sense. Wouldn’t want to trip.” The dwarf grabbed a piece of mantis and completely missed coffee shooting out of Terry’s nose.

“So, what’s up with that lady who left?” Terry asked a few minutes later.

Oh boy. We spent ten minutes explaining to her everything about the night’s conversation with the fey. She didn’t look too happy when she learned about Burin’s antics. In fact she pulled out her gun and began stroking it lovingly.

“Wait,” she said suddenly. “Where are my bullets?”

Gregor produced a small bag of ammunition. “You were not in state to be armed last night. I took for safekeeping. You may have back if you promise not to shoot dwarf.”

“Fine,” she pouted. “I wish I had died back at the dragon.”

“Now that’s not a good thing to say,” Burin admonished. “I, for one, am glad you didn’t die. If you had died, you’d be dead, like Nadya’s daughter Thora.”

“Yes. Exactly!” Terry shouted. “I wouldn’t have to put up with you because I’d be dead. JUST LIKE NADYA’S DAUGHTER.”

I heard the sound of logs dropping into the snow. I turned and saw Nadya standing there, mouth agape. My brain went into shock. I tried, but I couldn’t think of anything to say. From the looks of it, Gregor was going through a similar crisis. And I don’t think Burin had even noticed Nadya’s arrival.

Terry broke the silence, though it was apparent she hadn’t done much better at forming a thought than Gregor or I had. “Hi!” she said awkwardly. “I’m Terry!”
It was at that moment that Nadya noticed the ribbons in Terry’s hair. “How?” she asked softly.

“Well, you see,” Burin began, “some witch plucked her soul from her body and used it to make a doll.”

Well, at least, I think that’s what he was saying. He got as far as ‘soul’ before Gregor hit him. “Now is not time for that,” he whispered.

“But wouldn’t she want to know that we released her girl from the agony of being trapped in a doll?” Again, I think that’s what he meant to say. Gregor hit him again at the word ‘released’ and Nadya ran off. “Okay, I guess not.”

I tried to go after her, but one of the hunters stopped me. “Give her time. It is for the best that she knows. I think she’s even relieved to know that her daughter is free from that woman. But she will need time.”

“Right,” was all I could reply.

I returned to the others and found Gregor showing off his latest acquisition from the replicator. “And what could we possibly need something like that for?” Terry asked.

“Is tiny net. Is for catching tiny fairies.” I couldn’t fault his logic. And the silliness of the conversation made me feel a bit better.

After we struck camp, we got on the dog sleds. To pass the time, I spoke with one of the hunters. He didn’t speak much Common, so I was forced to try learning his language. I was making progress more quickly than I would have thought, since his language had clear similarities to Russian. It was sort of like trying to understand Italian when you already know Spanish, or at least, how that kind of thing has been described to me.

A few hours after leaving, the sleds came to a halt.

“Hide under the blankets!” Nadya commanded us.

The urgency in her voice brokered no questions. We had to move quickly. But we weren’t quick enough.

Soon, we were getting swarmed by ravens. The ravens were idiots for engaging us. Quickly, they became flash fried idiots, en masse. “What was that about?” I asked.

“The ravens must have realized that you were outsiders,” Nadya said. She gave a pointed look at my clothing.

“Yeah, I guess I do stick out a bit.”

“Gregor, too,” Burin added.

“That’s enough from you,” Terry said. She removed the ribbon from her hair. “We’re sorry about what happened to your daughter. If it makes you feel better, part of our plan involves killing the witch who did that to her. I know it’s a small consolation at best.

But I’ve lost loved ones and I know that the death of the one who hurt them will make me feel a lot better.”

Nadya took the ribbon. “Good,” she said. “Make sure that Nazhena Vasilliovna can hurt no one else.”

“She’ll die screaming,” I heard Terry whisper.

We reached the village about an hour later. As we approached, a villager ran out to greet us. “Hello, outsiders,” he said.

“Hello, insider,” Burin replied.

The man gave Burin a strange look, the turned to Gregor. “At last you’ve returned. Please, collect your friends from the inn and get them out of town.”

“I am having never been here before. I cannot be returning.”

“Apologies, my lord. I did not get a good look at the man who came before. All I saw was that he was wearing the same clothing as you.”

“The same clothing?” Gregor asked.

“Another survivor?” Terry asked. “I thought you said that everyone else was dead.”

“I buried every single other student,” Gregor replied.

“Then could it be an imposter?”

“Is entirely possible.”

“Let’s go to the inn and find out, then.”

The peasant nodded. “Thank you my lords. Old Willem must return to his work now.” Wait. Did he just say Willem? Before I could ask, he ran off. Well, that meant that whatever waited in the inn would be an interesting encounter. Neat.

As we made our way over to the inn, I was struck by just how much like Heldren this village, Waldsby, looked. It wasn’t identical, but damn if it wasn’t close. There was something strange going on here. But I didn’t have time to look into it. I had work to do.

Probably.

We entered the inn and found a sallow faced weasel of a man sitting at a table, with the innkeeper nowhere to be seen. The man drained his mug and gave Gregor a long, appraising look. “Well, well, what ‘ave we ‘ere? So one of the old man’s students survived after all. Well, it’s not me place to judge. Though I’m sure that Vasily will be very interested to learn this news.”

“Vasily?! That rat is here?” Gregor shouted.

“Who’s Vasily?” Terry whispered to Gregor.

“He used to be Sergei’s student, like me. But he was exiled. I am not knowing why, however. Tell me where I can find that rat,” he demanded of the man at the table. “I will ask him myself what he knows of Sergei’s death.”

“No need to go getting all worked up,” the man said, pouring himself more wine from his bottle. “He’s not in at the moment. He’s off hunting down that black rider or whatever it’s called. He should be back in a few days. So sit down and make yourself comfortable. You’re buying the next round.”

Terry clapped, her face giving a sarcastic smirk. “Well, isn’t that just wonderful? Always so quick to croak out information, but never knowing the important things. Like a good little frog. Or is it Toad, Vinnie?” Instantly her gun was pointed right at the man’s face. “So, just what is Typhon Lee’s little toad doing so far from his pond?”

“Wait. Terry? Is that you?” He chortled at some joke I wasn’t in on. “Typhon told me what he’d done to you, but seeing it with my own eyes is just amazing.”

“I will shoot you somewhere painful but not fatal if you don’t answer my question very quickly, Toad.”

I heard a woman laughing from over at the bar. “My, my, Vinnie, but you do make friends so very quickly.”

She quickly whipped out a vial of something and mixed it with another vial, then threw the concoction at us. It hit me and then exploded in a ball of flame.

Thankfully, my clothes helped shield me from the damage.

“I’ve got the Toad!” Terry shouted. Gregor understood and leapt over the bar, delivering a heavy blow to the woman. She stepped back and produced another vial, drinking the contents of this one and vanishing.

Gregor stepped forward and struck the air. I heard it connect and the woman went down.

The door to the inn burst open and several soldiers ran in. Burin hit them with a spray of color and I simultaneously hit them with a gout of flame. Two went down instantly, and the third ran away.

Meanwhile, Terry loaded her gun with a vial of poison – I think she’d picked it up from the bandits – and fired, loosing a cloud of poison into the Toad’s face.

Startled, he inhaled a huge breath of the substance and immediately passed out.

“Do you have any more of that tape?” Terry asked.

“Plenty,” I replied. We quickly tied up the unconscious man, and then the invisible woman Gregor had thrown on the table. That was easier than it sounds. You just have to find the hands and have someone hold them out for you.

I was surprised when she reappeared. She had a badge that identified her as a member of the Aspis Consortium. If they were involved, things were likely to get very complicated up here.

A few minutes later, the man woke up with a groan.

Terry hit him. “Time to start talking, Toad,” she said. “Tell me why you’re here. You’d never come this way without Typhon’s say so.”

“He was doing really bad when you put that bullet through his heart. A real piece of work, that bullet. He couldn’t heal up with normal magic, so he’s been asleep since then.”

“I’m not hearing why you’re here.”

“The witches had a way to save him. In exchange, we’re helping that queen out with her little coup.”

“And where is Typhon now?” She had a knife in hand, pressed against the flesh of his abdomen.

“I don’t know! I swear! Please! Don’t kill me!”

“I’m not seeing any reason to keep you alive,” she said, raising her dagger for a blow.

Gregor intervened, catching her arm. “No. Is not the way. Killing man who is tied is not right.”

“Do you have a better idea? Do you think this village has a jail that can hold them?” Her eyes were wild.

“The portal,” I suggested.

“What?”

“We’ll hire a few of those hunters to bring them through the portal to Giovanni. He can ensure that they won’t go anywhere for a long time.”

“Fine,” she said. “Knock him out and add some more tape. I don’t want him escaping on the way.”

I heard the sound of a crossbow being cocked. I turned to see the innkeeper taking aim at us. “If that’s all of your business, it’s time for you to leave, outsiders. You’re not welcome here.”

We met with Nadya and told her of our plan. She gathered a couple hunters who agreed to carry those two back to Heldren for us. We paid them and then returned with Nadya to her place.

“It’s not much,” she said. “But you’re welcome to stay with me for a few days.”

“Thank you,” I said. “Is there somewhere I could have some privacy for a few hours? I’m going to need to alter my clothing.”

“Of course, you can use this room over here.”

“Gregor, want me to have the box recolor your robes while I’m at it?”

He shook his head. “I will put these away and simply get some clothing that will fit in.”

I nodded. “Fair enough. I’ll let you know when I’m done.” I closed the door behind me and booted up Cortana.

“Online, awaiting commands,” the VI said.

“Access Ranger infiltration files. I need information about local clothing in Irrisen.”

“Authorization required to access Ranger database.” I gave her my access code. “Code accepted. Loading infiltration database.”

I went through the files, which included detailed notes and sketches of clothing throughout Irrisen. It took me a while, but eventually I settled on a style. I’d go with something similar to what I was wearing, but trimmed with fur and recolored into pale blues and other icy colors. Finally, I could change the star patterns into ice and snow themes. Maybe some snowflakes.

My clothing would still have a partial outsider flavor to them, but that was intentional. I was dressing like a stilyagi, which sounded like one of those fashion cultures that spring up, like Gothic Lolita or Yanki cultures in Japan. At least, that was the impression I got from the notes.

I stripped down to my underwear and had Cortana get to work making the alterations. While she worked, I just laid my head down. I was feeling pretty ill. I think I may have caught that illness from the cabin. Or from Burin.

“Cortana, do you have patterns for any flu medications?”

“I am capable of synthesizing nearly two hundred medications. Specify medication required.”

“I need a non-drowsy syrup with a decongestant, an expectorant and a cough suppressant. I also require it to have some form of fever reducer and pain reliever.”

“I can synthesize three medications that have what you require. Would you like to narrow search parameters?”

“Any of those have something other than acetaminophen?”

“One match. Shall I begin synthesizing?”

“Finish the clothes first. Then make the meds.”

“Understood.”

I pulled out my phone. “Cortana, can you establish a signal with Uncle Chadwick?”

“No signal found.”

I was afraid of that. Either we were too far away or local magic was overpowering the signal. “I’m going to record an outgoing message. Try sending it once daily until you receive confirmation.”

“Understood.”

I recorded a message informing him about everything that had happened thus far – our work for Baba Yaga, Queen Elvanna’s plan to cover the world in ice, all of it. I then let him know that if we failed, it would be up to the Rangers to clean up our mess. I hoped that we wouldn’t need them, but it was better to plan ahead.

I returned to find the party speaking with Nadya about Nazhena and her tower. It wouldn’t be easy to assault it, but there was a good chance that we could get in. Then we’d face an entire garrison. Or less, if we were stealthy and lucky. But it would probably be best for the town if we took everything out.

“Tell me, is it normal for witches to take children, or was this a special case?” Burin asked. It was a good question, but perhaps not the time or person to ask.

“Witches are known to take children often,” Nadya said. “I had feared the worst when Nazhena took Thora, but I had hoped that tributes of food and supplies would get her to overlook Thora’s insults.”

She indicated Terry. “You should be particularly careful, lest they turn you into one of their dolls as well.”

“I’m going to burn every one of those stupid things,” the girl replied. “If witches are so dangerous, can we trust Baba Yaga? Do you know anything about her, Nadya?”

“Only rumor and legend, and even then not much.”

After the encounter with the rider, I had spent a little time looking through my phone’s wiki and had found a wealth of information on Baba Yaga, at least, as much information as one could find from old fairy tales. The truth was, she was not a good person.

“The stories from Earth about her tell of a woman who sets impossible tasks with brutal penalties for failure, but if you succeed, she always comes through with the promised reward,” I said. “I think she’ll probably honor the word of one of her agents. At least one as prominent as the Black Rider.”

“Well, then that’s something we can hope for,” Terry said. “Not that we have any choice unless one of you can think of a better way to stop the endless winter?”

“Nothing I can think of,” I said. Not without a few years and a truly massive supply of cows at our disposal, anyway.

“Then I’m gonna see what the box has to help me blend in and go to bed.”

“I left Cortana set up with a listing of clothing styles in Irriseni fashion,” I told her. That should help a bit, though Burin would still stick out, since he wasn’t planning on changing anything.

I went to bed and dreamed of a world filled with werewolves and other monsters. I was a hunter of some kind, and with Nebby at my side, I carved my way through hundreds of the foes wielding a rather brutal looking weapon in one hand and a shotgun in the other. It was oddly relaxing, especially knowing it was a dream and I couldn’t actually be hurt.

We woke up the next morning to find that Gregor was missing. Terry checked outside and located his tracks, but once again they were scattered and meandering. As we followed the tracks, we began seeing signs of splintered trees and other battle damage to the surroundings. Eventually, we located the fighter, unconscious and leaning against a broken tree.

His new white and light grey robes allowed him to blend in rather well to his surroundings. We might have missed him if he hadn’t been next to the tree. We tried to shake him awake, and I hit him with the wand a couple times to heal his injuries, but he didn’t awaken.

Terry grabbed out his flask and poured it on his face. He began to stir. Strangely, the liquid froze almost instantly. That didn’t make sense. Alcohol froze at a lower temperature than it was currently. I picked up the flask and took a sniff.

It was nothing more than cranberry juice. Yet I’d seen Terry get a bit drunk off of it. Mind over matter or something. Not surprising, since she was a child with a likely limited experience with alcohol.

“What happened? Did these trees say something about your mother or something?” Terry asked the now awake man.

Gregor wiped the cranberry from his face. “What? No, that’s stupid. This was God of Martial Arts.”

“Right. Your imaginary friend.”

“How is the God of Martial Arts?” Burin asked.

“God of Martial Arts doing good. Better than me. Woke up this morning for training with God. God is thinking I become overconfident, and hits me into trees to teach lesson.”

Burin nodded his understanding. “And did you learn what he wanted you to learn?”

Gregor returned the nod. “Flaw in my training was lack of discipline. I believe that I can overcome this, with aid of God of Martial Arts.”

“Good for you,” Terry said. “Can we go back where it’s warm now?”

“Wait, listen,” Gregor said, holding up his hand.
I did as he said. “Dogs?”

“Many, many dogs. Coming towards village. We should hurry.”

We made our way back to the village just in time to see several soldiers banging on Nadya’s door. “Hello!” Burin called out. Somehow I wasn’t surprised.

“Outsiders!” one of the guards hissed. Two remained at Nadya’s door, the other four made their way towards us. “Lay down your weapons and come peacefully!”

Burin laid down his axe. “Okay, we don’t want trouble. We’ll cooperate. I should warn you that I’m a wizard, though, so I can’t exactly completely disarm.”

“That’s fine. Just come here slowly, outsiders.”

Burin took a step towards him. I was beginning to think that the dwarf had no sense of self-preservation. “What’s wrong with outsiders anyway? We’re just here to kill witches!”

Everything and everyone froze. Something in me snapped. I couldn’t take it anymore. “For fuck’s sake, Burin! You can’t go telling everyone we meet that we’re here to kill witches!”

“Why not? It’s the truth!”

“I don’t know, maybe because the witches are in fucking charge at every level of government here?! Might as well just hold up a sign saying, ‘Look at me! I’m here to assassinate your queen!’”

He gave me a funny look. “Wait, are we the bad guys?”

I was going to develop a twitch. “Of course not! We’re trying to save the world from evil witches who want to cover the planet in ice! They’re the bad guys! They just happen to be in charge around here!

WHICH IS WHY WE CAN’T JUST GO AROUND ADVERTISING OUR INTENT TO STOP THEM USING ANY MEANS NECESSARY!”

He tilted his head and I saw realization dawn. The soldiers looked annoyed. “Come with us.”

Burin charged the nearest and unleashed a spell, freezing the man completely solid. “No,” he said. Finally, now he understood.

Gregor rushed over and engaged another. “They’re taking Nadya!” he called back to us.

I nodded my understanding and charged past the nearest guards, close enough to hit the ones leading Nadya away with bolts of force. Terry shot one of the ones I ran past so he couldn’t chase after me. Burin moved and engaged the remaining nearby one.

I managed to get one down, but the other one brought Nadya to the inn. “We have to follow,” I said, looking at the fallen soldiers around me.

“Agreed,” Gregor said. “She is in mess because of us.”

As we approached the inn, a voice called out to us.

“Stay where you are. We have hostages.”

“We’re not looking for trouble!” Burin called out.

“Then you’ll answer some questions!”

“Sure.” God. I hoped Burin’s earlier epiphany had stuck.

“What do you know about the Black Rider?”

“He’s dead.” Good so far.

“Oh, that’s convenient. You saw his corpse?”

“We saw him die.” Okay. Good. The best lies are filled with truth.

“That’s what we needed. I think we’re done here.”

“I think we’re the new Black Rider.” What. Wait. Were we? I had felt a surge of power when he’d died. Could that have been us taking in a fraction of his power?

Either way, Burin probably shouldn’t have said that.

“Make a move and we’ll kill the hostages.”

Terry laughed sardonically. “We met these people less than two days ago. Like we care what you do to them.” It was a good bluff. At least, I hoped it was a bluff. I can never tell whether she means it when she says such blatantly callous things like that.

Gregor took that as the signal and charged right in through the inn’s double doors. I saw him hit the man shouting from the window. Burin went in after and I followed the dwarf.

Inside, several soldiers were standing around Nadya and the innkeeper. Burin blasted a couple with a blinding spray of color, bringing one down immediately and getting the other’s undivided attention.

Another soldier grabbed Nadya and held his blade out at us. “Stay back!” he ordered.

“I’m already close enough,” I said as I unleashed a volley of force bolts right at him. Force bolts are some of the best magical effects to use in a number of situations, since there’s no aiming. You know your target and the bolts know it too. They just hit the target invariably. No idea why you can’t make other spells do that. The soldier collapsed to the floor, his face bruised by the trio of blows.

The soldier’s captain, sensing that he was losing – badly – tried to defend himself as he pulled out a small object. Despite his best efforts, he couldn’t stop Burin from touching him with some magic, Gregor from punching him or Terry from shooting him through the door, the latter of which being what finally brought him down. I finished off the other guards with a carefully aimed burst of flame.

Burin examined the object the captain had been holding. He immediately stuffed it into his pants. I gave him a look. “Magic mirror. Someone would have been able to look through it at us.” And now that person would see nothing but dwarf testicles. I almost felt bad for them.

I’d heard of magic that could do that. “We should be careful. Witches around here might be able to spy on us through any mirror if they are giving their minions specific mirrors for communication.”

“Thank you for your help,” Nadya said.

“Why should we thank them?!” the innkeeper protested. “They’re going to bring the Pale Tower’s wrath down upon us all!”

“I wouldn’t worry about that,” I said.

“Why not?”

“Because when we’re done,” Terry said, “there won’t be anyone left alive in the Pale Tower to blame you.”

“You plan to kill them all? How?” The man actually sounded hopeful.

“I am believing that we will use similar methods as to what we have done here,” Gregor said, sweeping his arm over the fallen soldiers.

Nadya took charge. “We’ll need to hurry. I’ll go make arrangements for someone to watch over my boys and will meet you over at my home. We need to get to the tower before they can retaliate. I can lead you there, and I think Hatch can help you get inside?”

“Hatch?” I asked.

“A fairy who takes care of my home.”

“Don’t all fairies work for the witches?” Burin asked.

“He used to,” Nadya admitted. “But he ran away because he couldn’t take their harsh treatment anymore.”

There was something bothering me. I decided to speak up. “Nadya, why did you let that soldier lead you to the inn? We brought down the other one. You could have easily gotten away and run to us.”

“They used my daughter’s imprisonment to threaten me. I couldn’t let them know that I knew she was already dead, or they might have threatened my sons.”

“Fair enough. Let’s loot the soldiers and get a move on.”

Convincing Hatch to come wasn’t easy. The thought of going back to the tower obviously terrified the poor creature, who wasn’t a fairy, by the way. He was a knee high fey creature known as a domovoi, a hairy little critter who looked like an old man that was made almost entirely of beard.

Terry had to convince him to help us by giving him a piece of cake. I couldn’t remember where she had gotten cake from. Had it been all the way back at Giovanni’s place in Heldren? Doesn’t really matter, because it ended up working. Eventually the creature agreed to come with us, even if he said he wouldn’t go inside the tower itself.

We rode out on the dogsleds immediately, Nadya driving one carrying Burin and Hatch, while I rode on one driven by Terry and Gregor. The trip was uneventful until we stopped to make camp – Nadya assured us we’d reach the tower around midmorning – when a crow the size of a wolf appeared out of nowhere before us.

“Hello!” the crow said to us.

“Hello!” Burin said back. He was the closest to the creature, which seemed fixated on him anyway.

“What are you doing here?”

“We’re going to the tower,” Burin offered.

“I’d be happy to show you the way to the tower!” the crow cawed.

They continued for some time with their conversation, the crow inching ever forward, until I realized what it was that bugged me. “WITCHCROW!”

I shouted, unleashing two beams of flame at the bird. One missed, which saddened me. I wanted my first use of this new spell to be a complete success. The bird survived the single blast, but it was clearly heavily injured.

Gregor didn’t ask for explanation. He just leapt forward and stomped the bird’s head into the ground with a sickening crunch. We ate crow for dinner. It wasn’t very tasty.

Strangely, no one asked me why I had reacted like that. I guess the word ‘witchcrow’ had been enough explanation. They didn’t need to know that it was trying to steal something magical from us or that it was a type of creature that enjoyed spreading chaos and anguish to its victims. They just trusted that whatever a witchcrow was, it needed killing, apparently.

We broke down the mirror using the box that night – based on where the crow was looking, that might have been its target – and slept in shifts.

True to Nadya’s word, by midmorning we spotted the tower rising up in the distance. It was a massive structure made of ice and swarms of ravens swirled around the outside. This was going to be fun. I’ve always wanted to storm a tower.
Though I guess I’d always assumed there’d be a

beautiful, bikini clad maiden waiting for me at the top.

Next: Chapter 5: The Guards Must Be Crazy

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