Isa Chamberlin hadn’t planned on stopping at the bar. It was late and a work night. Why had she let Marissa talk her into going over to her place anyway? Because she’s your best friend, because you’re tired of her calling you mopey, because if you spend one more night in the quiet, empty apartment you just might kill yourself.

All true, but then Marissa wasn’t with her now. And besides, Isa had fulfilled her duty, gone to game night – Marissa’s tabletop roleplaying group – the one Marissa laughingly called Dungeons and Drinking. But there hadn’t been nearly the drinking that Isa had expected, and maybe that’s why she had her hand on the wooden door of a bar called Lund’s.

She’d never noticed it before – and it was right in her neighborhood, too. What had it replaced? Isa leaned back, hand still on the door, to look at the outside. Even the front of the building didn’t look familiar. The shops on either side had neon signs announcing their names and purposes: Saddler’s Sandwich Shoppe and the Preston Eatery, but this place, this Lund’s didn’t have a placard out front yet, just a hand lettered sign painted on the glass windows. In the gloom of late night you could barely make out even that.

Restaurants and bars came and went on this stretch of Foster. But maybe it had always been there, just overshadowed by whatever was there before the Shoppe opened. Or maybe Lund’s was new, and it just looked like it had been slumped there in the middle of the block for a generation. By the look of it, a place like Lund’s, it promised to be an old-school neighborhood tavern, the kind of place where a 20-something woman could get a drink and be left alone.

With a nod to herself Isa pulled open the door. As she’d hoped, she was greeted by dim lights, the low murmur of voices, and the yeasty smell of beer. She slid onto a barstool and glanced at the mirror behind the bar. She saw herself and two occupied booths that sat behind her. Each one held two people. One couple seemed to be well, a couple. They sat opposite but their heads bent forward, almost touching as they studied something laid out on the table. They both had longish hair, but Isa was fairly sure that one was male and the other female.

Why should she expect anything different, even in Portland? Taverns like this, they’d be gay-friendly, for sure, but not exclusive. The last time she’d been in a real gay bar had been New York, last summer. She and Celeste had visited Celeste’s old college roommate. At least that’s what Isa had thought they were doing. She hadn’t realized then, or for months afterward, that Celeste and Roni had been rekindling an old romance.

Isa shook her head at her stupidity, and the mirror Isa did the same.

A shape stepped between Isa and her reflected image. The bartender. He was a tall, beefy man with a bald head and scruffy beard. His jaw jutted out in a classic underbite – technically prognathism. Well, mandibular prognathism to be exact. Isa studied his face with a practiced eye. The malocclusion could have been caused by several factors. Not so pronounced that some corrective hardware couldn’t work to realign—

“What’ll you have?”

“A pint. Hefe, I guess. Do you have Misha?”

He rubbed his nose with the edge of his thumb. “I brew my own. You’re new.” He grabbed a glass and pulled on a tap. “What’s your game?”

Isa thought about the game she’d watched Marissa and her friends play, thought about the dice, and the character sheets, and the little plastic figures. Surely he didn’t mean that kind of game. She glanced around the bar. No Timbers banners, no TV, so he didn’t mean sports. “Um, I—”

He placed the beer in front of her. “Happens that way for some.” He patted the bar. “You’ll find your calling.”

So he thought she was one of those mythical unemployed Millennials? Everyone she knew had a job, even if it paid shit. Everyone her age was working hard, trying to pay off loans, or climb the ladder, or just make rent. Those “lazy” Millennials that the media talked about, Isa didn’t know who they were.

She opened her mouth to say as much, but the bartender had already moved on to other customers, and besides what did Isa care what this stranger thought? Have your drink and then head home, she told herself. She and Miles would be doing the Mendez twins first thing in the morning. She always ended up with Jose, the fidgety one, and Miles got Sebastian, who quietly sat for the cleaning. Of course Nora had to deal with their mother, who never just sat quietly in the waiting room, so maybe she had the worst of the bargain.

Isa took a sip of beer. She’d expected a medium-level beer, but this was a perfect wheat beer – sharp but not bitter, full but not heavy, and it wasn’t too cold. She saluted the bartender with the glass and took another sip.

Celeste would love this place. The thought came unbidden. It had only been a month since the breakup, so thoughts like that were to be expected, right? After all, they’d been together for three years. Three years. Isa had never had a girlfriend for that long before. She had thought they were headed toward marriage, maybe a child and a house, but obviously Celeste had a different plan. “Just wished you’d shared it with me from the start,” Isa muttered to herself as she took a long drink from her glass.

Someone took a barstool three seats to her left. A young woman with dark hair, jacket and jeans. She thumped a coil of rope on the bar. “Lund! Mead. I have something to celebrate.” She grinned, and Isa saw a flash of white teeth.

“Let me see some coin first.” The man loomed over the young woman.

“You are trying to hurt my feelings, like? I won’t have it, not tonight.” She slid her hand into a side pocket and slapped something on the bar. With the flourish of a magician, the woman removed her hand and said, “Enough for two. One for me, and one for…..” She glanced at Isa. “Ah well, she’s already got a full glass. I guess that means the second one is for you, Lund.”

Isa tried not to smile. The woman had a slight accent – Irish, perhaps? Slim build, longish brown hair. In the dim light of the bar it was hard to say, but she looked cute. Not that Isa was ready to start dating again. The last thing she needed right now was a girlfriend.

The man wiped the coins into his palm. “I’ll consider this a partial payment, Mery.”

“But I get my mead?”

The man sighed and lifted a large bottle to the bar. “A small one.”

The front door opened a few more times as Isa drank her beer. Figures moved behind her, reflected in the bar’s mirror. She saw a few people move up a set of stairs she hadn’t noticed at first. The place was bigger than she’d expected.

As Isa sat there, the woman to her right – the bartender had called her Mery – finished her small glass of mead and then proceeded to dump the contents of a small bag on the bar. She was currently arranging loose papers, a small notebook, a cloth sack, and several tied rolls of paper into some undefined order.

Isa tried not to stare. Keep Portland weird. She lifted the glass to her lips, caught her own reflection in the mirror and smiled. Life should be an adventure, right?

That’s the last thing Isa remembered before waking to bright sunlight and scratchy sheets. It took her a moment to register that she was not in her own bed. This bed was narrow and a little short, which seemed for the best considering the room was little more than a closet with a window.

She was thankful that she was alone and not naked. But where was she? Outside the little room was quiet. Had she been kidnapped? But then why put her in a room with a window? Isa scrambled off the bed and looked out. The ground wasn’t too far away – she was on the second floor at most. An easy jump. In fact, there was a tree just below the window with several sturdy branches. Isa hadn’t climbed a tree in 15 years probably, but today seemed like a good day to get back into practice.

She tugged upward on the frame, but the window didn’t budge. Her fingers felt along the top for a window lock but found nothing. Isa’s heart began to race. Maybe she really was in trouble. Where was her bag, her phone? With a sigh of relief she found her small bag propped in the corner by the door. It felt lighter than it should – had she been robbed? Her phone was certainly missing, but something had been added to her bag: a small notebook. It looked similar to the one that girl Mery had dumped on the bar. Isa quickly fanned the pages, but they were blank. Too late it occurred to her that there might be fingerprints the police could use to figure out who had…. Who had what? Put a notebook in her bag? Big deal. More important to figure out how to get home.

Suddenly Isa heard male voices in the hall, and they were coming closer. There was nowhere to hide in this tiny room. Her best plan was to break the window and make a run for it. She dropped the notebook in her bag, slung the bag over her shoulder, and returned to the window. But there was nothing in the room to use to break the window. She’d seen people in movies jab an elbow through window panes to break into houses, why not do the same to break out? But as she pulled her fist to her chest and jutted out her elbow, Isa spied the small latch at the base of the window. She almost laughed in relief! The window pushed open like a door. She flipped the latch and swung the window open wide. The crisp air of a fall day hit her face. The air smelled fresh and earthy.

Below her a wide beaten path led toward the still rising sun. Again she had to wonder where she was and how she’d gotten here, let alone how she was going to get home. She glanced at the sun sitting just over the horizon. She was no naturalist, but Isa knew that if she didn’t book it, she would be late for work.

With considerably less grace than she would have liked, Isa made it to the ground. She was pulling a few reddish leaves from her blonde hair when a voice behind her said, “Lund’s not fond of people who skip out on their bill.”

Isa turned to see an older woman with a wooden wheelbarrow. “What? I didn’t—”

“Smart to get a room at the back though.” The woman nodded at the building. Her curly salt and pepper hair shone in the morning sun.

“I would never run out on a bill. If you must know, someone kidnapped me, put me in that room, and— Look, where am I?” Isa looked around at the trees, scattered buildings, and the dirt path. “Is this Powell Butte? I have to get to work.”

“I’m not one to judge so if you say you’re not skipping out, you’re not skipping out.” The woman lifted her cart an inch. “If you need supplies and you have the coin, I can help you out.”

With her hands on her hips Isa turned to face the woman. “So if I buy something you’ll tell me where I am? That’s nice. Very friendly, very kind.”

The woman smiled broadly and nodded. “Thank you. I do think that my kindness is what keeps ’em coming back. Anne the merchant, she’s always ready to help.” She bent over the wheelbarrow. “Now what’s your line? You don’t look like a fighter, but maybe you’re one of those monkish types.” She glanced sideways at Isa. “No, you’d be in robes. Same for wizard. You say you’re lawful, so you’re no rogue.” She held up a small vial filled with red liquid. “No matter; everyone needs healing potions. 25 gold.”

Isa’s mouth hung open. This lady had taken weird and turned it inside out and upside down. “I’m good, thanks.” She took a step back and then another.

“I know what you’re thinking,” the woman said.

“No, you don’t.”

“You’re thinking, why is it half price? And being lawful, you’re thinking there’s some skullduggery going on. Far from it!” She gave the vial a shake. “I have a friend; he makes all his own potions, finest ingredients, and these are the, hmmm, older stock, shall we say?”

“I’m going to be late for work. Can you just point me in the direction of Powell?”

“Powell’s?”

Isa shook her head. “Not Powell’s. Powell. Boulevard.” The merchant didn’t even blink. No recognition. “You know the bookstore, you must know the street. Big thing, 4 lanes. Well, maybe 2 depending on where we are.” Isa didn’t even wait for a response. The woman was clearly off her meds. “Thanks, I’ll take it from here.”

“If you need potions or weapons or….” the woman pushed around a few items in the wheelbarrow…. “Or boots, you come find Anne. I’ve got the goods you need at a price you can’t beat.”

Isa rounded the corner and ran right into a solid block of a man. Lund, the bartender. “You weren’t in your room,” he said.

“I, ah, I got confused.” Isa’s mind raced. “I thought I saw my friends. They are expecting me, you know. I need to meet up with them. If I don’t, they’ll come looking for me.”

He nodded. “Fine. But only breakfast for one is included. Your friends, they’ll have to pay.”

“Included? In what?”

“Room and board.” The man moved his hand through the air as if laying out words.

“I’m really confused,” Isa said. This man was not acting threatening or guilty. He seemed downright noncommittal about Isa’s plans.

Lund shrugged. “That happens sometimes, I guess. He told me to expect it.”

Isa shook her head, at a loss for words. The bartender went on. “Joth Windbane? The wizard? You might not know him, but he knows you. Paid for your room and breakfast. And,” Lund smiled and crossed his arms across his chest, “he mentioned that I’d find you out back. He suggested I come bring you to breakfast.”

Isa laughed. “Wizard? I’m dreaming, right? I had maybe too many pints of beer, kind of a late night maybe, which is why you’re here, and why I’m now having this wacko dream. I need to wake up. Did I set my alarm?” She drummed her hands on her head. “Wake up! Wake up!”

“Hahaha! You and the wizard will get along famously. He says odd things like that all the time.”