Woman of Silk and Stone (3 page)

"Oh God, just let me wake up! Just let me be
home, let me wake up at my desk! I'll never dump coffee on Grant
again, I swear, just please, please..." I begged, tears stinging my
eyes as my potentially life-threatening situation dawned on me.

"Peace,
beleti
, do
not harm yourself," a deep, baritone voice rumbled at me. Feeling
the vibrations against my ear, I realized the reason I couldn't
move was because his arms were wrapped tightly around me, shielding
me.

"Oh, thank God, you speak English," I
whispered gratefully, thrilled beyond measure that wherever I ended
up, at least I wouldn't have to face any language barriers.

"What is English?" the voice asked. I tried
to move my head so that I could see my new friend, but he held me
steady. When I felt the sharp shock of pain in my neck as I
strained, I understood. Somehow I must have run off a cliff or a
ravine and then fallen, probably doing yet more damage to my
already battered self.

"Uh...the language, what we're speaking?" I
said questioningly, wondering if maybe it was called something else
here. Unless I was having some sort of psychotic episode, and I
resolutely chose to believe in my own sanity, there was no doubt
that I was in some other world. And it was perhaps a bit unlikely
to think that English was the native language.

"
Beleti
, we speak
the common tongue."

Swallowing thickly, I cleared my throat.
"Tell me, where am I, exactly?"

His chest hummed pleasantly, massaging my
aching head as he answered. "You are in the Kingdom of Solis, the
land of the Horde. We are taking you to the Golden City, where you
will be healed and cared for as you deserve."

That could be taken several ways, depending
on what these strange leopard-horse riders thought I deserved, but
I decided to be optimistic. One thing I learned on my college
debate team was to never let my opponent know that I had no plan of
attack, or in this case, no plan at all. So I merely smiled and
made an agreeable noise before subsiding into my own worried
thoughts once more.

I had never heard of a place called Solis,
and the only Horde I knew of was the Barbarian one. Somehow I
doubted they were lurking around empty warehouses in D.C. Which
meant I had several options.

1. Close my eyes and pray I'm dreaming.

2. Freak out completely and turn into a weeping,
hysterical mess.

3. Play along and hope for the best.

I like to think I am a practical person, and
after managing potential PR disasters and calming down overexcited
business executives who spent too much company money on expensive
dinners for girlfriends, I have some experience dealing with
chaos.

Granted, landing in some alternate universe
with a piece of petrified wood fused to my hand didn't really fall
within the scope of my job description, but I am nothing if not
adaptable. So I chose option three, hoping that if I just braved it
out, eventually I would come up with a strategy, or maybe find a
way back home.

With this in mind, I decided that I wasn't
in any immediate danger and gave in to the overwhelming urge to
nap. Safely ensconced in my new barbarian friend's arms, I closed
my eyes and let the world go for a while.

Someone was murmuring in my ear. It was in a
language I didn't understand, but it was lovely, soothing; the
voice was masculine and familiar, and it seemed as though his name
was on the tip of my tongue. A hand caressed my cheek, and I
smiled, turning toward my hidden lover, but when I reached out, all
my fingers grasped was a wisp of black smoke.

I awakened with a jerk to the sound of my
rider talking. As the remnants of my uneasy nap faded, I wondered
again how I was able to understand and apparently speak his
language, but figured it must have been some kind of side-effect of
all the battering in the portal/wormhole. I remembered hearing many
whispered voices just before everything got really bright, and
decided there must be some connection to my new linguistic skills.
I wondered if it would translate all of this world's languages or
just the 'common tongue' as my rider had mentioned.

"Are you certain that you wish to turn her
over to the royal house, brother? We could bring her home with us.
You know the Horde would welcome her." Although the voices were
muffled by the fur warmly tucked around me, I could make out the
rough cadence of the other rider's voice, deeper and somehow less
pleasing than that of my rider's.

"Brother, look at her. She does not belong
with the Horde." He paused for a moment and I shifted slightly in
his arms, trying to work my way out of the too-warm furs. "Besides,
you know the prophecy as well as I, and she must be delivered to
the Royal House." My rider sounded resolved, if slightly
reluctant.

Though I was somewhat relieved to hear I was
going toward some kind of authority figure and not the ambiguous
and vaguely menacing "Horde," I was startled to find that I was not
thrilled at the thought of leaving my be-furred rescuer behind. In
a weird way, he was an anchor in this strange new world. He had
been kind to me thus far and I didn't feel in danger from him. The
unknown Royal House, however, could be a completely different
story. My freshman year at college included a brief obsession with
history courses, and I knew enough stories of the English Crown and
the machinations of the court to be more than a little concerned
about my destination.

"The prophecy...oh, I know the prophecy, but
are you sure she is the one?" the other rider asked, his voice
rising slightly, the tone sounding slightly off. I listened avidly,
keeping my eyes closed and hoping that whatever prophecy to which
they were referring had nothing to do with me.

"Khenti," my rider said impatiently. "You
are a fool if you think differently. She appeared in the sky in a
flash of light, she has a sword of some sort that disappeared when
we tried to touch it, she is lovelier than the loveliest maid, and
she was swifter than the
sisu.
She is a
goddess come to save Solis. We have no choice."

I really didn't like that sound of that. Not
that being mistaken for some kind of "lovely" goddess was an
ego-killer or anything, but throughout history, people who were
thought to be saviors have usually gotten a raw deal. Deciding to
nip this misapprehension in the bud, I opened my eyes and squirmed
around until I could look up at my rider.

At first glance I thought his face was blue,
but I realized he had simply painted it so that it was the same
shade of the grass surrounding us. Possibly a cultural thing. He
had strong, heavy features that reminded me a bit of the Easter
Island sculptures, primal and ominous while strangely appealing. He
was not handsome by any stretch of the definition, and was
undoubtedly alien in appearance, unlike any blend of cultures I had
seen back home, but he had the requisite two eyes, one nose, one
mouth thing going for him, and as he looked down at me, his thick
lips curved into a reassuring smile. He wouldn't win any beauty
contests, but he made me feel safe, which, given my situation, was
saying something.

"Do not fear, beautiful goddess, we will be
at the Golden City before nightfall." His voice was gravelly and
bottomless, the way I imagined a stone would sound if it could
talk.

Blinking up at his strange countenance, I
smiled hesitantly. "Listen, it's sweet of you to call me that, but
I'm not really a beautiful goddess. I'm a speechwriter. From D.C.,"
I explained. "And again, although it's very nice of you, I don't
really think I'm here to save your country. Or planet, or whatever.
I mean, I can't even keep my snake plant alive and they're supposed
to be impossible to kill," I laughed nervously, watching his heavy
brows draw together in confusion.

"Where is this D.C.? Is it where the gods
live?" he asked, of course only focusing on that portion of my
little tirade.

Sighing, I shifted slightly, relieved to
note that although I was still generally sore, the stabbing pain in
my back had subsided and I was feeling stronger than the last time
I woke up. "No. Again, not a goddess. Just a normal woman who
somehow ended up here after getting fired."

"You were set on fire? Cast out by the
gods?" he demanded furiously, running his eyes over me again,
presumably checking for burn marks.

"No! NO GODS! Just me, I fell through
a...a...hole, or something, and ended up here! I don't know where I
am or why you're riding horses that look like leopards, or why the
damn grass is blue! None of this is right, so please believe me
when I tell you I am not a goddess, okay? Not a goddess!"

I was breathing heavily by the time I
finished and didn't immediately notice the dangerous narrowing of
his eyes or the tightening of his grip. By the time I did, I
couldn't help but wonder if maybe the whole goddess image was a
good idea after all; I mean people were pretty nice to goddesses,
right? Less likely to eat them or sacrifice them to giant sea
monsters and stuff.

"Brother, perhaps she speaks the truth! If
she is not the Awaited, then we should take her home with us! She
can be a concubine, perhaps bear children with her fairness and
small size!" Khenti suggested excitedly.

Abruptly I changed my mind on the whole
goddess thing. Running my gaze over the huge monolith of a man who
held me, wondering nervously about the anatomical proportions of
real-life Easter Island statues, I decided that I'd rather face my
fate as a fallen goddess destined to save some alternate reality
than as a brood mare to huge men in fur.

"You know what? It's all coming back to me!
I am a goddess! The goddess of...ah...speech, and maybe long-term
crisis management." I chewed on my bottom lip and watched my rider
carefully, hoping he would buy it.

He gave me what I thought was an amused
expression before turning to Khenti and shaking his head. "You hear
her, brother. She is the Awaited, and she must be taken to the
Golden City."

Khenti gave a disappointed grunt and then
snickered. I looked up at my rider anxiously, suddenly not feeling
quite so safe in his arms. "So, uh...this prophecy thing. What's it
say?" I asked, hating the quaver in my voice.

He stared down at me incredulously. "You
mean that you don't know? An all-powerful goddess sent to fulfill a
destiny she doesn't know?"

I bit my bottom lip and darted a glance
around the empty landscape, wishing vainly for a bus to drive by so
I could get off this crazy train. "Uh, right. Of course I know the
prophecy! But...I want to be certain what your, uh, people believe
it to be. You know, so I can make sure we're all on the same page,"
I stammered, digging a hole so big I was surprised I didn't fall
into yet another alternate reality.

"Of course, beautiful goddess. The prophecy
speaks of the goddess who journeys to the Golden City and dances
naked through the streets, calling down the rain of fertility so
that our people may once more bear children and our race may
survive," my rider explained, as though he was telling me how to
take the red-line to Grand Central, not how to fulfill some insane,
perverted prophecy.

I stared up at him in shock, a million
thoughts running through my head, dominated by the overwhelming one
that said 'No. Freaking. Way.'

There was an explosive sound that mellowed
into hearty laughter and then my rider lost his serious expression
and grinned down at me, his teeth sharply white against his
blue-painted skin. He began to chuckle, his barrel chest rumbling
and vibrating against me.

"Oh, I love this. Every time!" Khenti
gasped, his voice choked with hilarity. I blinked up at my rider,
stunned at the strange turn in the conversation.

"Wha...what?" I said stupidly.

When my rider's laughter had tapered off to
a shit-eating grin, he finally answered me. "Sorry, sorry. Couldn't
help myself. It's just so hilarious the way you
Halqu
always fall for the 'destiny' bit. Don't worry,
no one's going to make you run around in the buff."

Shocked silence merged quickly into pissed
off eloquence. "You...rotten, nasty, Smurf...JERK! You think this
is funny? I just spent a freaking eternity wandering around some
sort of limbo in the middle of D.C., fell through a portal, which
fucking hurt, by the way! A lot!"

I sucked in a deep breath and continued my
rant, ignoring the widening of my rider's eyes.

"And then I fall down some weird-ass rabbit
hole to some schizophrenic universe where the damn grass is blue,
and the sky is purple, and Easter Island natives ride around
yammering about prophecies and naked streaking time. Oh yeah, and
there's a fucking piece of wood attached to my hand!"

I was nearly screaming by the time I
finished, but I felt pretty confidently that I had made my point.
My rider's face sobered abruptly and chagrin crossed his heavy
features. I huffed peevishly and kept my furious glare on him.

"I apologize. Truly, I didn't mean to
distress you. Of course you are disoriented and frightened." He
glanced over his shoulder at Khenti, who grunted an apology as
well.

"Well, how do you think you'd be doing in my
situation?" I narrowed my gaze as Khenti's earlier words came back
to me. "This has happened before, I take it? People just dropping
out of the sky all willy-nilly?"

My rider nodded and looked off into the
distance in a classic thinking-man's pose. "I suppose the whole
thing has lost a bit of the magic for us, yes. You are the third
Halqu
we have come across. And there have
been many before. Although you are the first woman. And you're much
more coherent than the others," he hurried to assure me.