As Patella and Estelle advanced, Peter lifted his free hand. Except it wasn’t free, it held a bloody sword. “Oh. I have to clean this before it’s ruined.” Ignoring the three intruders, he found his maintenance sack and carefully cleaned and oiled the blade before sheathing it. “Now, what would you like to talk about?”
“Where did you come from? You don’t look like any of the peoples of the empire. Where did you get that antique? Can you really fly?” The innocent wonder in Estelle’s eyes as she spoke, followed by a quick flush, suggested to Peter that maybe she was younger than he had thought. Still, she didn’t look any younger than him.
“I was walking home from a party, looking at something in my hand, and accidentally walked through a portal that only existed for a few seconds. On the way from the town Marla is from to the town where I met Egbert the caravan was hit by a stampede of mammoths being chased by wolf-bears; I was carried off when I was knocked from my wagon. I fell in a pond, and as I pulled myself out I found the blade. I designed an airship and used it to fly here, if that’s what you mean.”
“That’s how you got here, I asked where you came from.”
“Oh. Halifax, Nova Scotia, Canada, North America, Earth, Sol, Milky Way. I would be surprised if you knew any of those.”
“You’re from the ground and the sun?”
“The planet I am from was named for the ground, I suppose, as we never needed a more distinctive name. The same with our sun; every other star gets a name, but the one we orbit is just called the sun.”
“You come from a different planet that orbits a different sun?”
“Yes.”
“Why are you here?”
“I’m told if I want to return home, I need permission to open a portal.”
“Well, of course you should be allowed to return home. But I’ll be sad to see you go. Not that I have any say in the matter. I guess I could talk to my brother, but you need the council to start doing their job again.”
“I’ve gathered as much. The other option is to open a portal without permission. Not that I have any idea how to do so. If I managed it, I would be home and not likely to need worry about the consequences, but the same couldn’t be said for anyone who helped me.”
“A last resort, then? Boring talk. Can I have a ride in your airship?”
“I can take a small party, my crew and four others – including servants – up, but where would we go? If I want to be on your brother’s good side, is it worth the risk of you being involved in an accident?”
“What danger is there? Is it not safe?”
“The Sky Turtle is only a prototype, really, and I don’t know how much longer it will hold together. It could crash or be attacked by dragons. Or catch fire.”
“We’d have to take an enchanter, then. Like this one. Lady Patella, would you like to come, too? That leaves only one proper servant, which is barely acceptable for an afternoon excursion.” Estelle stopped and scrunched up her face in thought. “Could you build a bigger airship?”
“In theory, of course. The trick is finding materials strong enough that aren’t too heavy at the size needed for the ship to support itself. Another option would be commissioning some additional bits of magic so it can lift more weight. There is plenty of room in the basket.”
“Basket?”
“Yes. Instead of a wooden hull with masts and sails, an airship is pretty much a balloon with a basket hanging underneath.”
“This needs more thought.” Estelle cocked her head to the side and furrowed her brow. “Are you feeling okay? You look as if you’re about to collapse.
“I … I’m a bit tired, I guess. Or hungry, maybe. I haven’t eaten my lunch yet.”
“You don’t know?”
“Hmm? No, I’m not so sure. Let me see if Marla or Egbert thought to see the suite stocked yet.” Peter stood and walked toward the door, but his legs weren’t working right. He stumbled and barely made it, his vision blackening with the effort of opening the door.
There were even more people in his room when Peter woke, and he was wearing less. He was laid out on his bed, with Marla on one side and Celery on the other. Estelle and Patella were as close as they could be, one on either side, and the two servants were at his feet. Egbert stood at the door watching everyone coming and going suspiciously, while two old men were arguing and sending younger people off on errands.
“What the hell is going on?” he asked.
“That pathetic Dink poisoned his blade. It took longer to work on you than it would on anyone else,” Marla answered.
“Was the poison identified, then?”
“Yes, though no one can agree on the antidote,” Celery chimed in.
“Then I guess you can call me a honey badger,” Peter said, flexing muscles from his neck to his toes before sitting up. He continued to his feet, stretching, and hopped down to the floor. “Is there any food?”
“How?” Egbert asked, giving the arguing healers a dirty look.
“What I know of science says I should be more susceptible to foreign poisons, but maybe in this case it just isn’t as poisonous to me. I don’t know. But seriously, is there any fruit around?” Walking toward the door, Peter paused and looked down. “Really? Sure, take off my shirt, that makes sense. But my pants?”
“When you collapsed you also made a mess of yourself. Your pants are being laundered, or maybe burned,” Estelle spoke up.
Rolling his eyes, Peter opened his wardrobe and got dressed.
“Oh, did you need to cover up the view?” Lady Patella asked, loud enough for everyone present to hear.
“Am I going to have to go find the kitchens myself?” Peter asked.
“What is a honey badger?” Estelle asked.
“A badger from Africa that eats some of the deadliest snakes known, even if it gets bit and passes out before finishing.”
“Peter, slow down. You haven’t recovered this quickly from anything in all the time I’ve travelled with you,” Marla said, hurrying after him as he successfully opened the doors this time. “We do have fruit, in the little room here,” she added, indicating the sitting room he had walked past.
“Oh, okay. What now, then? Can I kick everyone out?” Peter grabbed the first thing he saw and shoved it in his mouth and bit down. He could feel pulpy juice on his chin, but he didn’t care. The sugar was hitting and he needed more.
“I’ll see what I can do. Just stay here, please.” Marla shut the door on her way out. Peter heard voices but couldn’t make out what was being said. He was too distracted by the fruit to pay attention, anyway.
Peter’s recovery didn’t last. After gorging himself on fruit, he dozed off. When Marla woke him, he was weak and shaking, sweat running down his face despite feeling chilled. The healers were brought back, and he was subjected to cure after cure. Trying to tell Marla he wanted to wait long enough between to see if one worked proved useless.
As a result, Peter found himself with an upset stomach and quite intoxicated. The healers gave up in the morning, but he wasn’t well. Whether it was the supposed cures or the poison was hard to say. He was bedridden for three days.
When his head cleared and he felt well enough to walk around a bit, Marla led him out into the garden, complaining about the lack of progress the whole way.
“Is there any sort of legendary healer out there? Maybe a temple isolated in the mountains where they perform miracles? A college across the desert where they learn science-based healing? A people thought to be fairytales?”
“I don’t know of anything that there is any reason to believe might be real, no. The best healers in the empire are here in the palace, as far as anyone knows.”
“I suppose dryads can’t do what we’re looking for?”
“I don’t know, to be honest. How would we find out, anyway?”
“Celery would have mentioned something if she knew, I think, but she had a theory about Honeyhips that we could always test out. She thinks Honeyhips hasn’t shown up in so long because I haven’t been in the woods.”
“That … might actually be true. We’re not quite ready to take the Sky Turtle out yet though. No point if we don’t have a destination in mind.”
“When we get back, I’ll have to have you read me all the notes that arrived while I was out of it.”
“I read them all to you already.”
“Exactly. I know that they exist, but not what was in them.”
“Nothing important, really. This Miss Estelle is almost as strange as you, you know.”
“I’m not sure what to think of that. I took her to be a little older than me until she started talking, now I wouldn’t be entirely surprised if someone told me she was half my age.”
“How old are you?”
“Twenty-six years back home. Our years have about three-hundred-sixty-five days, which are about the same length as a day here.”
“Our years only have three-hundred-sixty days. Close enough, I think. Miss Estelle might be four years younger than you, I don’t remember for sure.”
“What about you?”
“What? Oh. Twenty-three years old.”
“Really? You seem older.”
“Maybe things are different here.”
“You probably just behave more maturely than girls your age back home. Then again, back home someone your age could be halfway through their second degree. Maybe I’m just bad at judging age.”
“It’s not as if it were important.”
“True. What were we even talking about?”
“I’m not sure, really. Mythical healers and the gifts that have been sent to you.”
“Gifts? I thought there were just notes.”
“I read the notes to you, but the gifts are piled up in the antechamber.”
“Oh. Is that a bench? I think I need to sit down.”
Staring at some flowers, Peter’s mind went hazy and drifted through incomplete thoughts. Marla let him sit there in peace, but soon enough the bench jostled him back to reality as someone sat next to him.
“My brother would like to know if you cause this much drama everywhere you go. Dink Dibbler’s Dad is kicking up a fuss, claiming he hasn’t done anything wrong. Rumours of your escapades have started reaching the city, including tales of tiny airships of all sorts zipping about the great lake. Our airship from the lake has arrived and is complaining about your Sky Turtle, despite having known it would be there.”
“I can’t say I’ve ever had this big an impact on a place before. Must have to do with being a foreigner or something.”
“He’s granted me the funds to have you build me my own little airship. I think I’d rather ride yours before I commit.”
“Sure. Where are we going? Some southern beach so you can lay in the sun and tan?”
“What?”
“People don’t sunbathe here? It’s not good for your skin in the long run, but where I come from people like the look of skin darkened by the sun. They’ll lay on the sand just to let the sun toast them.”
“Would you prefer my skin darkened by the sun?”
“I don’t know, I’m not familiar with your skin type.”
“Don’t people look funny with their faces and hands a different colour than the rest of them?”
“Oh, well, tan lines can look funny, yes, so some endeavor to wear as little as possible when they tan.”
“Why wear anything at all, then?”
“There are places that frown upon being in public with your genitals exposed. Actually, a ridiculous part of my world thinks it’s wrong for a woman’s nipples to be seen in public, but perfectly okay for a man’s in most circumstances.”
“That’s not fair.”
“Nope. You still haven’t told me where you want to go. Up into the mountains to play in the snow on a glacier? Out to sea, to see what we can see?”
“I don’t know, I’ll have to think about it.”
“I think I’ve overexerted myself. When you figure it out, come tell me. How long will I be here without meeting your brother?”
“I don’t know. He’s been strange lately.”
“Really? How so?”
“He’s got some secret project he’s working on. In my whole life, he hasn’t kept anything secret from me.”
“Anything else?”
“It started when a new councillor showed up, looking even stranger than you.”
“Another problem to add to my list. I’m going for a nap now.”
“Can I join you?”
“I find it hard to believe you don’t have better things to do with your time.”
“I don’t have any responsibilities. I’m just stuck here entertaining myself.”
“And you’ll do that by crawling in bed with a foreign man who is unwell?”
“How else will you become familiar with my skin type?”
“What? I … I don’t know.” Peter’s voice came out weak, and he tried to hide it by standing and starting to walk. He could hear Marla whispering to Estelle as they followed him. Giggles elicited a groan.
Sure enough, Estelle hadn’t been joking. Peter wished he had had the courage to just say no.
When Peter entered his room and collapsed on his bed, Estelle followed, but Marla laughed and shut the door as she left.
“You do understand that I’m exhausted and literally about to fall asleep, right?” he asked as Estelle started trying to reach something behind her back.
“Could you give me a hand? My ladies dress me, but I can’t seem to manage to take this dress off on my own.”
“You’re determined to have this happen?”
“You’re not exactly making me feel wanted.”
“Right this minute, the only thing I want is some sleep.”
“That’s okay, I still want this dress off.”
Grumbling, Peter sat back up and stared at Estelle’s back, trying to make sense of what he was seeing. There were knots and laces and hooks and eyes and buttons. Shrugging, he started undoing everything until something happened.
Finally, the dress loosened and fell, and Estelle shrugged out of a satiny slip. Peter reached out and rubbed his hands over her back, giving her shoulders a squeeze, and she turned around. Running his fingers up and down, around and around, he gently cupped a breast and lifted. Letting gravity pull it from his fingers, he gave her nipple a tweak.
His energy drained, Peter flopped back, taking in the sight. Estelle’s skin was similar to the lighter shades found in India but appeared to be purple. The patch of coarse black hair between her legs hid all sign of labia from his view.
Crawling onto the bed over top of Peter, Estelle lowered herself down to sit straddling his hips. His body reacted, and the smirk that appeared on her face suggested she felt it through his clothing.
His eyes were heavy, he couldn’t keep them open. He squeezed her thighs and let his head flop to the side, barely aware of what was going on around him.
“Oh, you really are tired, huh? Sorry, I won’t keep you.” Estelle swung her left leg up and over, laying beside him with her head on his chest. “I expect some attention when you wake up, though, you hear?”
“Yes, I hear you. I don’t understand why you would want my attention, but yes, I do hear you.”