Emily awoke to something sitting on her chest.

She opened her eyes, only to snap them shut. The sun was blinding where it hung, high in the sky. Raising a hand to cover her eyes she opened them again and lifted her head. The furry face of a brown squirrel greeted her; its beady eyes almost quizzical.

“Get off,” she said, and swiped at the rodent with her free hand. With an indigent chirp it leapt off her chest, avoiding her hand. She let her head fall back to the ground and groaned as a light headache made its presence known. “Damn it, Alex. You have to warn me before you do stuff like that.”

She waited for his quippy answer for a moment too long, expecting it to arrive at any moment. When it didn’t, she groaned again and propped herself up on her elbows and looked around. Rolling green hills covered in vivid green grass—bending for the wind like waves upon the sea—surrounded her as far as she could see. “What the hell,” she muttered, and closed her eyes. Diving into her source she mumbled, “Farsight.” Her skin prickled as the magic took effect, energy surging into her eyes. It was a strange feeling for one still not used to the touch of magic, and one she was not sure if she enjoyed or despised.

Using her hand to shadow her now extremely sensitive eyes, she looked out across the plains. Yet, even with a magnification that let her count straws of grass five miles away, she could not see any signs of civilization; or Alex. She couldn’t even see a single tree. It was nothing but grass extending to the horizon in every direction. It struck her as a tiny bit weird, and she felt as do something was off, but she couldn’t put her finger on it, and she had more important things to worry about.

“Don’t you dare be dead, Alex,” she said to herself. “You still owe me that honeymoon you promised we’d go on after the war was over.” Ending the spell and standing up she finally noticed the pull of fate upon her heart. She smiled; he wasn’t dead at least, and she supposed the honeymoon could wait a little longer. Continuing to ignore the squirrel chirping at her feet, she looked herself over. Her armor and clothes were a mess, but they would have to do until she found replacements. Her biggest concern was not having a weapon. She could still feel Excalibur slumber within her, but the weapon had been destroyed in the explosion, and she wouldn’t be able to summon it again until she could meet Alex, and have it reforged within their bond.

But would she even need it? She had no idea where she was, which was weird, for she had traveled most of Mónvell, either by herself or with Alex, and she had never even heard of a place like this. Though, if she had been pulled through a rift, chances were pretty good she wasn’t even on the same star anymore. She shrugged. It didn’t matter. As long as she could find something to eat, and somewhere to sleep, she’d be fine.

Onto the next mystery then.

She squatted, and to the squirrel she said, “What is it you want? I’m not a tree and I don’t have any nuts.”

The squirrel seemed taken aback, if such a thing was possible. Then it stood on its hind legs and… gestured for her to follow? She could scarcely believe her eyes.

“Do you want me to follow?” she asked.

The squirrel nodded.

“Why?”

The squirrel blinked and froze for a moment. Then, after taking a deep breath, it pointed to itself before bending down and grabbing a few straws of grass Emily had flattened when she lay on the ground. Pulling the grass up it built a small cage-like structure over itself. Emily tilted her head. The squirrel then wriggled about inside its cage of grass, as if pretending to be stuck.

“Is your family stuck somewhere?”

The squirrel shook its head and chirped.

Am I playing charades with a squirrel? The thought struck her suddenly. She shook her head; she’d done crazier things in the past. Then another thought struck; it might be a trained squirrel.

“Is your master stuck somewhere?”

The squirrel jumped up and nodded, chirping happily.

“And they need my help?”

Again, the squirrel nodded.

“Is it dangerous?”

For a third time, the squirrel nodded.

“Of course it is,” Emily sighed. Well, it wasn’t like she had anything better to do. And anyone smart enough to train a squirrel to do charades would probably know where she could find a town, hopefully one with an inn… and a bath. “Lead the way,” she said, and stood. The squirrel chirped and bounced away through the tall grass, its fluffy tail showing the way. As she took the first step to follow, she felt a chill run down her spine. Her eyes snapped back, and she peered out across the plains behind her. She thought she saw something… a flicker of purple? But then it was gone, and all she could see was the endless green. She shrugged and followed the squirrel.

The plains were truly like a sea—or a desert. The only thing exposing their progress were the rolling hills, as sometimes the horizon would vanish as they dipped into a valley, only to reaper suddenly when they crested the opposing hill. If not for those small variations in height, she wouldn’t have been sure if they were moving at all. And soon she was utterly bored of the view, and quite tired of the endless wind blowing from the side, casting her hair into her face. When she’d had enough, she ripped a piece of cloth off the bottom of her tunic, where it hung out from under her chain mail, and used it tie her hair into a ponytail.

She’d need to find new clothes anyway. The ones she was wearing were sooty, burned, torn, and had begun to smell, And she’d really prefer leather armor to the heavy and bulky chain and plate she was currently wearing, armor enchanted to protect her against the magic of the mad gods didn’t help her much now that they were dead. Neither did the thick metal and leather help much against the heat, and she had begun to sweat underneath the layers. The sun stood high upon a sky dotted with small fluffy clouds, and judging from the warmth of the wind, it had to be in the middle of summer.

Surrendering to the heat she pulled up the arms of her chain mail and tunic, but kept them on, they were her most important defense, after all. The plates around her legs, however, were not as important, and he quickly shook them off. She felt a little bad over leaving the armor in the middle of nowhere, but it wouldn’t serve her if she collapsed from heat-stroke, and the plate really didn’t help with cooling. She kept her pants of heavy linen, and calf-skin boots, as she didn’t want to run around half-naked, at least not until she knew if there were any dangers to be found.

As she mused on the topic, the fluffy tail she had been following vanished. Stopping in her track she looked around. “Where’d you go?” she asked the plains, and it answered with a soft chirp from before her. Blinking, she peered out across the plains. “I don’t see you.” Another chirp, this one more insistent. She shrugged and took another step forward. Instantly the world around her changed. Gone were the rolling hills of green and the endless blue sky, as if she had stepped into a bubble of another world. The ground clinked under her metal boots, and the sky was overcast, with ragged bolts of lightning racing across it, illuminating the ground in flashes of brilliant white. Though they were quiet, for no thunder followed the lightning, rather, all she could hear was the endless swishing of the wind. Neither had the temperature changed from the warm sunny plain.

Taking a step back she again found herself out on the plain, the barren landscape nowhere in sight. Reaching out her hand—glove and all—vanished into nothing, as if cut off at the wrist. “That’s a pretty good illusion,” she muttered, and again stepped into the bubble. The squirrel waited for her inside, before a strange gateway of moss-covered stones. She wasn’t as sensitive to these things as Alex, but even she could feel the magic radiating of the structure. Through it, a tunnel descended into the earth, and from that tunnel came a chill; a cold breath of air that seemed to carry a hint of menace.

The squirrel chirped as she approached, finding a path through the crap strewn across the ground. “Is your master through here?” she asked and motioned for the gate.

The squirrel chirped and pointed at a not too rusty sword, leaned against the side of the gate.

“Alright,” Emily said, picking it up and testing its balance in her hand, leather creaking as she flexed her fingers around the grip. It was no Excalibur, but it would do. Rolling her shoulders, she motioned for the gate again, and said, “Lead the way.”

The squirrel chirped happily as it vanished into the dark, Emily tight on its heels.