The world around Camilla didn’t so much spin as it tilted a bit. “Puzzleworld” kept rolling through her mind.
“You’re telling me that you’ve never heard of Massachusetts?”
“No,” the woman said.
“But you’ve heard of Connecticut, right? It’s right next to it.”
The woman shook her head no.
“America. You know that one.”
The woman shrugged.
“Okay!” Camilla flung her arms up in the air in near defeat. “Earth! We both know what Earth is right?”
The woman just stared at Camilla. She didn’t respond.
“Look,” said Camilla, exasperated. “I’ve been having a really rough time, okay? I got washed away in a flood. I’ve been lost for I don’t know how long. If this is some kind of joke, it’s not funny!”
Camilla wasn’t sure what it was, but something she said made the woman’s eyes widen a bit.
“Wait…” she muttered to herself as she scanned Camilla up and down. She stared very long and hard at the young girl. Camilla could practically see the gears turning in her head. Whatever thoughts had been moving in her mind seemed to connect as a look of revelation fell over her face.
“You said you got washed away in a flood?” said the woman. “And I’m guessing you lost consciousness, right?”
Camilla shot her a very indignant look. “Well, yeah, that usually happens when you get knocked over by a giant, wall of water.”
“And you don’t recognize the word “Puzzleworld”?”
Camilla gave a half nod. She technically knew the term, but…
“And what about your clothes?” asked the woman.
“What about my clothes?”
Camilla looked down to examine herself. She immediately saw the problem. She remembered very clearly what she was wearing. It was a simple hoodie with shorts and sneakers; a very common outfit for her. But there was nothing common about what she was wearing now.
She looked at her shoes and saw not sneakers, but fine, leather boots. Her shorts were no longer denim, but a strange, blue, wool material. Her T-shirt had transformed into an odd pink tunic with lace accents. But the most peculiar thing was her hoodie. It had changed into a flowing cape that came just past her knees. The crimson shades of the cloak winked at her as she stared at it.
Camilla rushed over to one of the big windows to check herself in the reflection. She touched the red cape and felt it’s thick, satiny, shimmering fabric. She picked at the rest of the clothes to make sure they were real.
“Is that not what you were wearing before?” asked the woman.
“No!” Camilla cried as fear seeped out of her voice. “I don’t wear… capes!”
These were definitely not the clothes Camilla originally had. Where had they come from, though? How long had they been on her? How had she only noticed them now? The weight of her confusion was starting to clamp down on her. If the room wasn’t spinning before it was starting to now.
“Oh, man… this is all starting to make less and less sense!” Camilla’s voice shook violently.
“Just calm down,” advised the woman.
Camilla hadn’t seen any good reason to be calm since she woke up in that ditch.
“So you’re saying you have experienced unconsciousness, a shift in location, and also a rare case of altered physical appearance?”
“What is that supposed to mean?” This woman may have been Camilla’s only chance of getting home. She didn’t want to yell at her, but yelling was starting to seem like the only way to get answers.
“I-,” the woman was hesitant. “I think I know what happened to you. But I can’t be sure.”
The woman saw more fear rising into Camilla’s expression.
“But I know someone who would be.”
Camilla heard the women mutter something under her breath about “running out of time.”
“We need to get out of this library though.”
The woman walked to the large window next to Camilla and pushed it open. She started pushing Camilla towards it.
“Wait, but…”
“Don’t worry,” said the woman. “ It’s not that high a drop.”
True, three to four feet wasn’t that high, but it was still high enough for Camilla to land at a very uncomfortable angle. The woman on the other hand landed in a perfect squat. If Camilla wasn’t still sore from landing, she would’ve questioned why the woman was so good at all of this. But there was apparently no time for questions. The woman grabbed Camilla’s hand and the two scurried off hurriedly.
The two ran through a small courtyard and towards the back of another large stone building. The woman easily opened up the backdoor and lightly pushed Camilla in.
Who is leaving all these doors unlocked? thought Camilla.
The two of them ended up at the landing of a tall, rickety, poorly lit wooden staircase. The steps creaked as they made their way to the door at the top. Camilla was pushed into a much more welcoming place. Stone tiles plastered the floor below her while the walls were decorated with light green wallpaper and wooden wainscoting. Warm light from the blue crystal lamps above lit the hallway up in a way that made it feel very cozy.
Camilla was given no time to marvel though, as the woman went straight back to tugging and shoving her along. The doors on the walls swooped past her as she sped along. She couldn’t read them for moving so fast, but she saw that each door had a gold plaque next to it. After a long bit of hurrying, the woman stopped Camilla in front of one of the wooden doors. A gold plaque sat next to it just like the others. Camilla read it to herself;
Dr. Julius Murielegus
Professor of Puzzleworld Cartography
College of Interdimensional Travel
University of Solaris Pago
The woman took in a breathe and then exhaled, preparing herself. Camilla knew that look. It was the same look she had when she went to her mother to ask for something she shouldn’t ask for, or admit to something she shouldn’t have done. The woman pushed past her hesitation and knocked on the door. She stiffened up as her and Camilla waited for a response.
At first nothing came, but soon the doorknob began to jiggle. Camilla wasn’t sure what to expect. With the way the woman was reacting, Camilla imagined either a burly, intimidating man, or a judgmental, nagging, mother figure. The face that peeked out managed to be somewhere in between.
From behind the door came a man with a very round face. His eyes darted over to the woman. Upon seeing her, his lips pursed into an unamused scowl between his chubby cheeks. His hair fell down in very neat black spikes. Or at least Camilla thought they were all spikes. He looked over the woman through his catlike (and very disapproving) eyes. The woman smiled awkwardly.
“Hey… ” she started, pausing to think of the rest of her greeting. “ you!”
The man only responded with a prolonged, judgemental stare and a raised eyebrow.
“So,” he finally spoke. “You broke in again.”
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