Jane froze. The kiss was so unexpected that at first, she did not register what had happened. Her mind went blank, like her brain had just been scrubbed clean with a cloth.

And then it hit her that she was under an unwelcome kissing attack by a man she had just met.

Jane yelped. She batted Kir's arm out of the way and scrambled out of reach. Her hand found a rock; she held it aloft.

"Not one step closer," she warned the prince. "Stay back!"

"Oh dear, did I offend you?" Kir looked distraught. "I hope you are not angry! It's just, I've been waiting for you to arrive for so long. I quite forgot myself."

"You can't go around kissing strange women without permission!"

"I don't, normally... Like I said, I've been anticipating your arrival for quite some time."

Jane frowned, wondering what part of their conversation she'd missed in the moments before Kir kissed her. It troubled her that Kir was eyeing her like she was the crazy person instead of the other way around. Jane thought this was unfair, not to mention extremely sexist.

"I say," said Kir. "Are you making that shield with your own magic? It is most enthralling."

"Okay," said Jane, backing up another step. "You're officially crazy."

"I'm not. Look!"

"I'm looking. I don't understand what you -"

And then, she broke off, because she saw it. The air around her was different - bright and silver and gleaming - twinkling in a myriad of colors, much like the soap bubbles she had played with as a child. It encased her from all sides, this twinkling light, and as Jane reached out to touch it, it tingled against her fingers, familiar and pleasant, brimming with warmth.

Her magic.

Her very own creation. She had made this shield.

"Perhaps you are not as hopeless as I feared."

Jane jumped; she had not seen Nikolay arrive. The sorcerer walked up to Jane, glanced dispassionately at her magic bubble, and flicked it with a finger. It dissolved into gold mist, and Jane almost cried out at the loss of it.

"You will need to learn to make a stronger shield than that to succeed in your godstests." Nikolay glanced at Kir and frowned.

"What's up?" said Kir lightly. "Do I have something on my face?"

"... No." Still, his eyes lingered on the prince's face, as though puzzled. At last, he turned to Jane. "The tsar has finished his meeting with the envoy from Chyansk and awaits your arrival."

-v-

Tsar Fyodor of Somita reminded Jane of a bird.

A dying pigeon, to be precise.

His face carried a gray, cheeselike pallor, and his sinewy hands trembled on his cane. Something Prince Kir had said in the gardens flickered in Jane's mind - something about his father being ill...

"Your Highness, I present to you our most holiest Avtorka, genius scholar of Earth, speaker to the gods, and Future Writer in the Book of Truths, Jane Huang." Nikolay's voice bordered on sarcastic.

"Thank you, Nikolay, you may leave us."

Nikolay gave a bow just shy of mocking and swept from the room.

Jane's eyes roamed the room. The décor was gorgeous at first glance, but on close inspection, the marble floors were scuffed years of use, and no amount of satiny wall hangings could quite conceal the fading paint in the background.

Perhaps they couldn't afford new paint. They were at war.

"Grape?" said the tsar, proffering a small bowl.

"Erm, no thanks." Jane clasped her hands. "Your Highness... um... thank you for your hospitality. If it's not too much trouble, could you explain to me how I might return to my world? My parents must be worried by now, and I have an internship coming up..."

"Sit down," said the tsar. "Are you sure you won't have a grape?"

"Yes," said Jane.

Tsar Fyodor shrugged. He popped another grape in his mouth and then waved his hand at his page boy, who grabbed the bowl of grapes and hurried from the room.

"Kuzma. Good lad, a bit dim." Despite the almost translucent pallor of his skin, the tsar's eyes were wiry, keen and bright. "So," he said. "You want to go home. That can be arranged, but with some difficulty. You see, it is the will of the gods, Written in the Book of Truths itself, that everyone who enters Mir from your world is granted Avtorka's status. When Avtorkas enter Mir, they are given a series of tests called the Godstests, to ensure their valor, their strength, and their spirit. At the end of the Godstests, they are allowed to write three things in the Book of Truths. It is a great honor. Although," he added keenly, "I doubt you care as much for honor as you do about getting back to your world in one piece."

"Pretty much," said Jane. "It's just that my internship this summer is kind of important to my future career; I'm thinking about applying to med school, and they like to see that you have some clinical experience..."

Her voice trailed off. The tsar watched her with tolerant fascination bordering on amusement.

"I'm afraid," he said, "the only way for you to get back to your home world is for you to successfully complete your three Godstests and Write your return in the Book of Truths."

"Tell me more about these tests?"

"They take different forms for different Avtorkas." Tsar Fyodor shrugged. "Some say they test your greatest weaknesses. Nikolay tells me that you are a brilliant scholar in your home world?"

"...erm. I wouldn't go that far..."

"Do not be embarrassed; it can only help you. The Godstests test your intelligence, stamina, and magical ability. Most who have taken them have succeeded, or at least have not died... but the tests are not easy. Passing them requires substantial preparation, especially for one who has never before trained in magic."

Jane gulped. "Has anyone from Earth ever not taken the tests?"

"If so, it was before my time." He eyed her thoughtfully. "You could petition the gods; they might let you bypass the godstests and live out the rest of your life here. One can live quite a good life in Somita, you know. Our healers have made substantial advances recently. If you don't die in the war, your life expectancy might be fifty, even sixty years old! We also have a good postal system now, not to mention our recent advances in sewage drains."

"Er... I think I'll do the Godstests, if it's all the same..."

"Splendid!" The tsar looked alarmingly satisfied. Jane wondered if she had been played. "For someone of your intelligence, the preparation will come easily. We will assist you, of course. It is a great honor to have the gods' chosen grace us with her presence, and many in the palace will be eager to help. However, in exchange for our royal assistance, I would ask a boon."

Here it comes.

"Your last Writing will be to send you back to your home world," Tsar Fyodor said. "But that leaves you with two additional Writings. Most avtorkas use their spare Writings for the greater good, to benefit the ones who have helped them in some meaningful way.

"First," said the tsar, "and this should not come as any great shock to you, I would ask you to help Somita. Make this country strong again. Fortify its borders from outside attack. Kanach grows too strong. Each year, we fight against her; each year, we lose more territory. Bring peace to my country."

World peace. Jane wanted to bash her head against the wall, but she settled for rubbing the bridge of her nose with her finger. Hey, Uncle Bauer, so you know how I fell into a fantasy world a few days ago? No I don't have fun stories from my journey, just a series of awful clichés...

"For your second Writing," the tsar began.

Does he have everything planned out?

Jane waited, but the tsar seemed more hesitant about this request than the first. He toyed with the tassels on his robe.

"I ask you this," he said finally, "not as a ruler but as a father. Please use one of your Writings to help my son."

"Kir?" she asked, puzzled.

"No, not that son." The tsar met her eyes. "I ask you to help my oldest son. Nikolay."