“This place seems safe. As you seem to be afraid of me, we should separate at the first opportunity. I will need you to help me understand how things work in this world. I will pay you any help back, I promise.”

My alter ego giving me an olive branch? Is it now suddenly possible?

“OK, so how do we proceed then?”

“We need a strong spell caster, one that is knowledgeable enough. I'd like to test him before we let him work on us. Tell me, how can we find such a caster here?”

“A spell caster?”

Back to the same nonsense?

“Yes, you know: a high-level priest, specialized mage, or...”

“There is no magic in this world. How many times do I need to tell it to you?”

“And you healing your scratches that was not magic? There is magic here! You just seem not to know how to find it.”

She got me there. I was left without a reply for some time. Walking through the mine was relaxing. A totally different atmosphere but relatively smelly. I had not realized until now that we humans have a pregnant smell, but here, whenever I got in areas with people gatherings, I could smell them. Strongly.

Apart from this realization, my cavern trip did not bring me anything new. I checked my mobile. Of course, no connection, no wi-fi. It was as advertised. Even Mike's black box had a small red led blinking. Yeah, I forgot to turn it off. I did it now.

“Well, would you like to visit some more, or should we get out?”

“I would like to visit some more, but I am hungry. Can we find something to eat here?”

Oh, yes. She was in the lead now.

“I have no money, so there is nothing to eat.”

“I think I could make some money. That paper money does not seem difficult to...”

“Do not even think about this! Let's go. It is a long way home.”

There was now a queue for the elevator ride. I had to wait half an hour in line until I could step on the platform. Then, there came the almost ten minutes ride to the top. I was starving when we got outside, and she let me the lead. I watched, amused, as the number of glances I was gathering decreased rapidly. I was again getting invisible fast.

My bicycle was still there. Somebody had moved it to the side but decided it was not worth taking. Or probably they needed to shift it to the side to free their own bike.

It was getting dark, and I was hungry. I started to step the pedals as vigorously as I could. White Flower had to heal my sore muscles a couple of times. She explained that the healing is becoming less effective due to my fatigue. Yes, I know I do not have enough muscles. Ma would be enthusiastic to know how much sport I did today.

And just like that, thinking and not looking properly in front of my nose, I missed seeing a ditch on the road. It was not deep but profound enough to force a hard landing for airplane Dolores, as my front wheel took a forced swing to the right. I flapped my hands and landed ungraciously, splashing myself on the gravel. As I placed my palms on the ground, I got deep cuts on both hands and right knee. Even worse, the front wheel got bent in the shock.

I could heal, but the damn bike not.

I felt so miserable and pained that I simply stayed there sitting on my ass and started to cry. Alone, hungry, on a deserted road watching the setting sun bleeding from my scrapped hands and knee, with a broken bike, no dynamo, soon no light. It was not very mature of me, but crying did help.

There was the asphalt road some twenty meters to the right where from time to time, a speeding car passed, but I was conflicted if to try to stop one. Frankly speaking, the idea to get into a complete strangers' car spooked me. This is why when I heard a car slowing down, I did not even turn my head.

“Miss? Miss? Are you alright?”

I turned. A service car with yellow blinking light had stopped. I stopped crying, trying to compose my voice. I heard steps. I was unsure if to panic or be grateful. He jumped with easiness over the streets' guarding rail and came closer.

“Oh, dear!”

A thirty-something old man came, bowed to examine the bicycle, and came to me. Sure, in the right priorities order: he was a mechanic. I raised my head. He was handsome, with brown but a little unkempt hair, brownish with a mix of green eyes, and a three days beard. Oh, he had a medicine box in his hands.

“May I?”

He asked, preparing to wipe my hands clean. Ouch, that pained!

“Why don't you heal? You don't need this?”

I tried to ignore my fairy and let him do his work.

"Now is too late to heal. People do not heal magically in this world; I told you this. Now I need to wait until he leaves!"

She was compassionate:

"Oh, poor you!"

He pointed at my broken jogging trousers.

“Can you lift the trousers above your knee?”

It worked halfway.

“I'm ok.”

He gave me the medical kit.

“You should clean it up. I'm driving to town; I could bring you there.”

I shook my head and shrugged.

“I'm sorry, I don't have any money.”

He took my bicycle with easiness.

“It's alright. I'm driving anyhow in that direction. I could drop you on the way closer to home if you want.”

The alternative was walking without light through the now dark woods dragging behind a broken bike. I decided to accept his offer.

“Gonzo!”

He screamed that whilst carrying my bike as if he was calling a war cry. As he saw he jumped me, for clarity's sake, he added:

“It's my name.”

“Dolores.”

I shook his broad hand, about double mine.

Five minutes later, I was sitting in the cabin beside him, and he was driving towards the town.

As I was just checking my mobile, he pointed at the black mobile I had from Mike that I'd put aside.

“What's that?”

“Oh. Nothing. Just an extra device... a friend needs.”

“Is it one of Mike's senders?”

He became more effusive, explaining to me what other jobs he had done for Mike. He seemed to know the gamers' scene well, and we started talking about them. The atmosphere relaxed.

At this moment, my belly decided to revolt and announced with a growl that it hadn't devoured anything in too many hours.

He left the main road, and at my worried glance, he shrugged.

“There is a drive-in just around the corner. I need to buy some sandwiches!”

Ten minutes later, we were sitting in the car in the parking, chewing sandwiches. At my protest that I am not hungry, a protest that was immediately undercut by the beast in my belly, he just shrugged and started to narrate some old funny stories with Mike and a mobile he got from him.

I gave up any opposition, took the sandwich, and started to chew on it.

“I wonder what's his problem?”

“If you want, I can find out.”

I did not fully trust my fairy-half yet, so I preferred not to let her find out. Who knows what she would have done, how this 'finding' works.

He told me a little about himself. He was self-employed, worked as an auto mechanic, and had his own shop. He was now coming back home from a service work he had done not far away from the salt mine. He agreed to fix my bike for 30. He said that would be the most that it would cost; he needs to check it through.

That would squeeze my finance for the week, but I'll still have a bicycle. He also offered to bring Mike's device to him personally. He explained to me that he has to make a weekly round in the area where the gamers are, so I took him on his offer.

He'll deliver the bike during the week once he has a trip that will bring him near my home. If I needed it earlier, he gave me the card from his workshop, so I knew where to pick it up. He took my phone number to send me an SMS about when he will be able to deliver the bike.

Cool way to get my number.

Happy, full, and tired, I arrived home with much more confidence in human beings than I generally had. I greeted the girls who were watching some comedy. I went directly to the bath to take a shower and then straight to bed.

In the bath, I healed myself and watched, mesmerized, as all scratches disappeared. Is this real, or do I dream it? I watched my tattoo again. Is this real? The girls had not yet talked about it, but probably they hadn't seen it yet in the darkness. Should I let them see it?

Should I keep everything secret?

I hesitated. Lola was my friend. Do I want to lie to her?