I shut my eyes and ignored the knocking at the door. It did not go away. So much for that approach.

“Master Chris?” came Meg’s voice. “Would you like some breakfast?”

Just that fast, I realized I was starving.

“Yes,” I said in the general direction of the door. “Hold on a second.” I got up and started dressing. I wasn’t exactly springtime fresh but at least I’d cleaned up a bit before passing out last night.

“I brought it up for you,” she said through the door. “It’s the middle of the morning.” She sounded very amused by the fact that I was just now waking up.

Once I was dressed I opened the door and there was Meg, beaming at me, with a plate holding some bread, some unidentified meat, and what looked sort of like celery sticks in one hand. In the other she had a bundled-up piece of cloth. My mouth was watering, although this time it was from the food. Mostly.

She sashayed by me, shutting the door behind her with a waitress’s casual ease, and set the plate on the little table before putting the bundle down on the bed. Then she picked up the glass from last night, dumped the water into the pitcher, and let out a tiny burst of song. The glass was full of water almost instantly. She turned to me, eyes sparkling.

“Master Chris, it’s real! It wasn’t a dream! My gift is so strong now!” She set the water down next to the plate then practically leapt into my arms, giving me a crushing hug. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

“You’re welcome,” I said, bemused. “Did you get in any trouble for last night?”

She looked up at me, blushing. “I told them that I couldn’t help myself after you saved me last night. Uncle Peter looked annoyed, but Aunt Miranda just shook her head and told him that I could do worse than a Song Mage who would defend me from men with swords. I’m sure they’ll want to talk to you after you eat.”

Oh, boy, I thought. My appetite suddenly faded. This is going to be tricky.

“Sit down,” she said, ducking her head. “Please, I made you breakfast. I wanted to get up and help Aunt Miranda in the kitchen, at least as long as I stay here. When you didn’t wake up, I just went downstairs to help like I always do.”

I walked to the table, sat down and looked at the plate. The meat was just sliced strips of what looked like the same beef… or whatever it was… in the stew. The bread was toasted and had a little butter on it. I took a bite. It was fresh and still warm, very tasty. My appetite returned and I started eating. Meg started talking again, smiling at the way I attacked the food.

“I’m glad you like it,” she said. “I saved you the best slices.” She giggled. “Aunt Miranda just looked at me and shook her head again. I think she thinks I’m in love with you.”

I stopped mid-chew and looked at her, eyes wide.

“And why does she think that?” I asked, swallowing hastily.

“Probably because I’m in love with you,” she said, giggling again. “I couldn’t help how happy I looked, but I didn’t tell her about you being a servant of the Powers, or the gift you gave me. I filled the pot slowly on purpose, so she doesn’t know about my new strength.” Then it was her turn to pause. “What are you going to tell them, Master Chris?”

“Me?” I said. “Why am I the one who’s going to tell them anything?” I took a nervous sip of the water. She was right, it did taste good. Which didn’t make any sense, since I assumed it summoned pure water, which should be tasteless. I carefully didn’t say anything about the ‘in love’ part. I didn’t know how to deal with that right now. I’m not a morning person. Also, I was still kind of getting over the fact that I had just had a dream-talk with a being who could apparently order gods around.

“Because you’re a Song Mage,” Meg said. “They’ll listen to whatever you say.” She sounded quite matter-of-fact about this. Not exactly the Tone, more of a ‘couldn’t be more obvious’ sort of voice.

The meat was a little chewy and didn’t have any seasonings to speak of, but it was still warm and it tasted fine. I wonder if they have bacon here? How do you make bacon? You just smoke the meat and then put some salt on it, right? I bet I could figure it out. But you can’t make bacon from beef. I don’t think. Do they have pigs? They have to have pigs.

Meg was quiet while I ate and I found my brain wandering down random roads. The celery-looking stuff was crunchy, but had more of a root vegetable flavor. I ate some parsnips once. They were a little like that. But not bad. Once I was finished, I looked up at her and forced my brain back into the here and now.

“Meg, do you have bacon here?” Okay, not entirely back into the here and now.

“What’s bacon?” she said, and my heart fell.

“It’s sliced meat - usually thinner than what I just had - from a pig. I think you smoke it and maybe put some salt on it. Or sugar.” I suddenly recalled seeing something called ‘sugar-cured bacon’ once. “It’s delicious,” I said, looking at her hopefully.

“We have smoked meat,” she said thoughtfully. “But I don’t know what a pig is. That’s meat from a cow.”

“What does a cow look like?” I said. ‘Omniglot’ might be picking, choosing, and substituting the nearest word, so a ‘cow’ to her was probably some four-limbed herbivore, but who knew after that? The horses I’d seen had looked pretty horse-y but I hadn’t seen any up close.

“They’ve got four legs and hooves,” she said, looking at me strangely. “They have horns, at least most of them do I think. I’ve never lived on a farm. They give milk, that’s where the butter comes from, and you can eat them. And their skins are good to make leather.”

So far so good… I thought.

“And they’re about this big,” she said, holding her hand up a few inches over her head.

… and then we go right back down the rabbit hole. I’d never lived on a farm either, but I grew up in a rural area and I’d seen plenty of cows. They didn’t get to be five and a half feet tall. That sounded like something prehistoric. But if they could be milked, they couldn’t just be ancient Murder Cows.

“Sounds very similar to the cows where I come from,” I said, not wanting to start a discussion about cow biology. “Pigs are short, fat animals, they have four legs and curly tails and big noses they use to dig in the dirt for food. Wild ones usually have tusks and they can be pretty mean.”

Meg shook her head and gave me an apologetic look.

“I’ve never heard of such an animal, Master Chris. Maybe they live in other places, but I don’t think we have them here.”

“Rats,” I said, adding ‘bacon’ to the growing list of things I didn’t know I’d miss until I couldn’t get them any more.

“We have rats here,” she said, frowning. “But no one eats them. They’re filthy animals.”

“It’s an expression,” I said. ‘Omniglot’ picked the weirdest times to be literal. “We don’t eat them either.”

She looked relieved and said, “Oh, good. I’d cook you a rat if you asked, Master Chris, but I’d really rather not.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t ask. I’m with you.” I knew a kid who had a pet rat when I was younger and it was actually quite affectionate and not dirty at all if you cleaned its cage out. But again, not the time for a discussion of rat habits.

“Did you enjoy your breakfast, Master Chris?” Meg asked hopefully. “Are you still hungry?”

I actually could eat more, I thought to myself. But Keeper won’t take my money, and food can’t be cheap here. I still wasn’t thinking about how much magic would affect food production, or I might have questioned this idea.

“I’m full, it was great. Thank you, Meg.” She gave me a smile that lit up the whole room, sunshine or no.

“I’m so glad. I’ll make you food any time you ask,” she said happily.

“So what else do you have to do today?” I asked. Time to start learning about how things work here.

“Normally I’d help clean the inn and get ready to help with lunch. Many of the crafters and such come here for lunch because they don’t cook for themselves,” she replied. “But now I’m yours, so I’ll do what you tell me to do. I only helped Aunt Miranda because she would have been all by herself otherwise, and you were sleeping.” Meg actually looked guilty for, I assumed, not looming over my sleeping form in case I wanted her.

“That’s fine, Meg, I’m glad you helped.” I had an unpleasant thought. “What will they do for help if you leave with me? Not that I’m planning on running out the door this minute, I just don’t know if I’ll stay here.”

“They’ll hire a girl,” said Meg matter-of-factly. “Lots of young girls from poor families could use a job with a bed and meals, and Uncle Peter won’t expect them to…” She blushed. “You know. To pay for their lodgings.”

This world is not all magic and wonder, I thought, a little disgusted. A good job with a nice man like Keeper who doesn’t expect sex, and doesn’t whore out his barmaids, that’s probably a pretty rare opportunity.

“Can they afford to pay a girl?” I asked. I had no idea if they paid Miranda anything, since she was essentially their child and children were expected to work in less advanced cultures. At least, that was the impression I had from indifferent history classes and a lot of reading fantasy.

“It’ll be all right,” she said, with a small smile. “You’re so kind to think of them, Master Chris.”

“Well, maybe I should give them a little something to make up for stealing the best tavern girl on Laroha from them,” I said, smiling. She blushed.

“You already paid the doctor for Uncle Peter,” she said. “That was so much money.” She sounded very impressed. Then something occurred to her. “You said you’d only been in this world for one day, Master Chris. Where did you get money?”

“It came with the outfit,” I said, gesturing at my clothes. “This is everything I have in the world, and I was wearing it when I appeared just outside Pirisi, on the border of the woods.”

“You were in the Southern Woods?” gasped Meg. “Without a horse, and with no weapons?”

“Just right where the trees end,” I said, a little startled at her sudden fear. “I could see the gate from where I was.”

She looked relieved. “Well then you were probably safe. But there are monsters in the woods! Uncle Peter told me so, slimes and goblins!”

I thought he said the goblins were north of the town, I thought. Probably a story to keep cute girls inside the walls where it’s safe. I grinned.

“Well, we’re both Song Mages, Meg,” I said confidently. “We shouldn’t be afraid of monsters. Monsters should be afraid of us.”

Her eyes got big again. That never got old.

“I keep forgetting, Master Chris. It’s like I forget and think I’m the me I was yesterday.” She blushed bright red. “Before I met you. You’ve changed my whole life.”

“You too, Meg,” I said sincerely, and she looked down, still blushing. “But anyway, that’s a good point. I have money, but I don’t know how much it’s worth. Let me get it out and you can tell me.” I don’t see her slitting my throat for some coins when I just made her into a magical powerhouse and she knows if I die, she loses it. Or does she? I shrugged inside and dug in my pouch.

When the first gold coin hit the table, Meg gasped.

Hmmm. Going to guess that means these are pretty valuable. I dug out all of the coins and stacked them. They were much cruder than the modern American coins that I was used to, but they stacked okay and seemed to be pretty consistent. The edges weren’t milled, though. In all, there were 20 gold coins, 34 silver coins, 37 copper coins, and 40 iron coins. The coppers and the iron coins were small, maybe the size of a dime or a little bigger, up to the gold coins, which were a little bigger than a quarter. Fortunately the pouch was pretty big and they all fit with room to spare for what turned out to be a few extra pairs of socks, some leather cord, a metal spoon, and a small roll of the same cloth my shirt was made out of.

“Master Chris, I’ve never seen so much money in my life,” said Meg breathlessly. “You could buy half the town!”

“Really?” I said. I wasn’t actually excited. It just made me nervous to think I had that big a target for thieves in my pouch.

She let out a big breath. “Well, no. But you could buy this inn with lots of money left over.”

“So I know a beer is five iron, and there are ten iron to a copper.” I pointed at each in turn. “How does the rest of this work?”

Meg tapped a silver coin. “This is worth a hundred copper,” she said. Then she pointed at the gold. It was like she didn’t even dare touch them. “And those are worth a hundred silver.”

“Wow,” I said, a little breathless myself. “A gold is worth ten thousand coppers?”

She looked at me in disbelief. “I don’t even know how to count that high. So maybe?” Then she looked proud. “You are a very learned man, Master Chris. I’m so lucky to be yours.”

“What I was studying involved a lot of math,” I said distractedly. “And round numbers are easy.” One of those gold coins could buy… let’s see here… maybe ten years worth of meals for a regular person. That’s crazy. I wasn’t sure this made sense economically, but if the king or whoever set the exchange rates, I guessed it could be whatever he could make stick. Anyway, if I wanted to sit in this inn and eat nice dinners and have sex with Meg for the rest of my life, I could probably just about do it.

I dismissed this idea immediately, of course. I was a powerful wiza… Song Mage in a magical world. Sitting in the inn for the rest of my days was not how I was going to live here. Though the part about constantly having sex with Meg sounded really nice.

Come to think of it…

“Meg, can your aunt get along without you for a few hours?” I said.

“Of course, Master Chris,” she said. “Do you need me?”

She’d been hovering over me the entire time I ate, pacing a little in excitement. I stood up and took her in my arms.

“Yep,” I said.

Then I kissed her.