Of course this was a dream. Of course I hadn’t actually been chased by an elephant bear and fallen down a mineshaft. Even James wasn’t stupid or cruel enough to drop me in the middle of nowhere and scare the crap out of me. The pain had been eerily real, though, so I couldn’t really blame myself for thinking it wasn’t a dream.

I scowled at the blue alien who’d frequented my dreams for months. “‘Sup, Mark?”

A gasp turned my head toward one of his companions. The curvy figure and gossamer wings said ‘fairy woman,’ but the blue-black exoskeleton and four arms screamed ‘insect.’

“His name is Mar’kost,” she snapped, crossing all four arms. Wings twitching, she addressed Mark. “You know this human?”

He paused, barely meeting my gaze. His tail flicked back and forth, making the feather crest that ran down its length flop from side to side. “In a manner of speaking.” His voice was more reserved than I was used to, which explained why I hadn’t recognized it while pain had fogged my mind. 

I sat up without Thyr’s help, no longer worried about exacerbating my injuries because I’d obviously been given a healing potion. “What’s that supposed to mean? You definitely know me. We’re dating.”

The bug woman stared at me, mouth open, but another of Mark’s companions interrupted her with a faint whinny. He was a short deer centaur with fur all over and dual-pronged horns. Or were they antlers? I wasn’t sure. White fur circled his eyes and chin, while black and white markings patterned his legs. 

He stared at my pole weapon on the ground as he shifted from hoof to hoof. “Where did you get this?”

I rolled my eyes. “James threw it at me.”

His ears flicked back. “And James would be…?”

“What good are dream people if you can’t read my mind? I mean, I guess it would be a lot more boring if you could, but at least I wouldn’t have to explain-” I shook my head at the futility of arguing with my imagination. “James is a friend of my cousin who can’t take ‘no’ for an answer.” I grimaced. 

“What species is this James?”

“Human, duh.” 

His eyes narrowed. “Where did James get this?”

“How am I supposed to know?” Well, I actually did have a guess. “Okay, he probably got it from his grandparents. They’ve got all these weird medieval weapons hanging in their basement, so it must be theirs.” 

The bug woman’s wings buzzed, and she hovered a few inches off the ground. “Who cares about her stupid weapon? I want to know why she thinks she’s courting Mar’kost. And why is she here, anyway?”

“I am courting him.” I stuck my tongue out. “And I’m here because-” I couldn’t come up with a good explanation to tell a dream person about what had happened. “Wouldn’t you like to know? Well, I won’t tell you, ‘cause it’s a secret.”

Mark cleared his throat and avoided my gaze. “I’ve been… communicating with her via dreams for some time now. Judging by our conversations, I’m afraid she might be mad.”

“I’m not mad. I mean, I’m angry that you’re calling me crazy, but I’m not crazy.” Then again, maybe I was a little crazy for arguing with a figment of my imagination. 

The bug lady’s antennae flicked toward me. “Then why’d you bother healing her? You should’ve left her, then she wouldn’t harass you anymore.”

He glanced at me. “Curiosity, I suppose. I wanted to know if she was truly human or-” A hint of sorrow weighed down his expression as his head feathers drooped. “She’s human. Nothing else.”

The centaur raised a hand. He stiffened as all eyes moved to him. “It’s good you saved her. This weapon has several strong enchantments on it. I can’t quite tell what they are, but I think one is a self-destruct curse.” He shuddered. “It looks excessive.”

Bug Woman flinched, and she dropped back to the floor. “How excessive?”

“Enough to bury us all in thousands of kilostones of dirt, assuming the blast didn’t vaporize us first.” His eyes bore into mine. “So I ask again—where did you get this polearm? Judging by your clothing, it’s stolen, but it’s hard to imagine a weapon this powerful wouldn’t have an anti-theft spell on it. Did you use a thieving artifact?”

I shrugged and leaned to grab the polearm.

Mark grabbed my wrist in a death grip. “If you attack us, I’ll undo what I’ve done to save your legs.”

“Jeeze, I was just going to look at it.” I twisted my hand free as his grip loosened. Grabbing the polearm, I set it across my lap so I could look at its head. The symbols hadn’t changed, and I couldn’t see what had told the centaur about the weapon’s capability for mass distruction. “So, how’d you know it’d explode and stuff?”

The centaur scuffed his hoof on the ground. “Whoever you stole that from is more powerful than all of us combined. If you have any sanity, you’ll give it back and beg for your life.” 

I rolled my eyes. “I told you, James threw it at me. I didn’t steal it. Whether or not he stole it, I’m not sure. I mean, technically it’s his grandparents’, but I don’t think he’s allowed to mess with their collection. He’s definitely not allowed to throw them at a bunch of people in the woods.” I really hoped no one had been cut too badly by the flying weapons. 

The centaur gave Mark a questioning look. “The woods?”

Mark sighed. “As I said, much of what she says makes little sense.”

“Oh, come on. Don’t tell me you’ve never heard of the woods.” I looked between them. “Even if you can’t read my mind, that’s like common knowledge people should know.”

Mark’s tail flicked my leg. “We know of woods, but there are no natural woods in this empire, and the nearest cultured woods are a hundred kilotails away. Unless you meant an orchard or lumber farm?”

“No, the woods. Like forest, on a mountain. Pretty sure no one planted it.”

Exasperation filled his voice. “There are no mountains for at least a thousand kilotails. You couldn’t have come here, on foot, with a weapon that valuable and no knowledge of how to wield it.” 

“I didn’t come on foot. I teleported.” Laying the polearm across my lap, I wiggled my fingers like a spooky mage. 

“You know more than dream spells?” 

“No, James does. He’s the one who knocked me out, so it’s his fault I’m dreaming all this.”

He dragged a hand over his face. “This is no dream.”

I mimicked his exasperated look. “Yes, it is, but I don’t expect you to understand that, because you’re just a figment of my imagination.” 

“I am not-” 

A grunt drew me to Thyr, the last of their group. He was… basically a human-sized pangolin—one of those armadillo-looking things that were the only mammals with scales. They had long, thick tails that dragged on the ground, and they walked on their hind legs so their massive front claws—which could apparently dig through concrete—wouldn’t get dulled. 

Thyr was basically all that, only he was a little more humanoid. It was hard to tell with him crouched down, but he looked big enough to be seven feet tall. 

“Human, why do you think this is a dream?”

“Magic isn’t real, so it has to be a dream.” 

He nodded thoughtfully. “Where do you come from?”

“Silvervale, Washington, USA, Earth.” 

Everyone froze. 

Mark was the first to speak. “As I’ve told you before, you can’t hail from Silvervale.”

“Why the heck not?” I frowned. 

“Silvervale was the last great Ortai city—and it now lies in ruins too soaked with arka for anyone to enter.”

“Anyone but shifters,” the bug lady said. 

Mark nodded. “Even for us, it is dangerous. The creatures that survive there are-” He shuddered. “The arka has warped them beyond recognition.”

“Doesn’t sound like the Silvervale I’m from.” I shrugged. 

The centaur’s eyes narrowed. “Your town has to be named after the original. Those other places—Washington, USA, Earth—what do they have to do with Silvervale?”

Great, now I had to explain geography to my subconscious. “Okay, so Earth is the planet, USA’s the country—it’s in North America, which is a continent—and Washington is a state in the USA. Silvervale is a town in Washington.” I hoped they didn’t ask any more clarifying questions, because that was about the extent of my geography skills. 

“You’re saying you’re from another planet?”

“Yep.” 

“That’s impossible.”

“So are magic potions.” I twirled the polearm on my lap, watching the light glint off the metal. It was sort of mesmerizing. 

Mark sighed. “Potions are a fundamental aspect of an arkan’s work. I’ve demonstrated their utility by healing your injuries. Surely, you can’t deny their existence.”

I snorted. “I’m not saying they don’t exist here, in a dream. I’m saying they don’t exist in the real world.” I was getting bored going over stuff we’d argued about a million times before, so I stood and stretched my legs. They felt almost normal, but there was something off about them. I couldn’t really place what it was. 

Anyway, the tunnel looked like a fun thing to explore. I headed down it, snatching the centaur’s glow orb on the way. 

“Hey, that’s- Gira.” The orb flew from my hand.

I spun to see him holding it and glaring at me. “Oh, come on. I’m sure you can make another one. Just let me have it.”

He looked to Mark, who was on his feet with Thyr.

“Don’t give her anything. I’ll deal with her.” He marched past the centaur and grabbed my polearm. “Come with us. I’ll keep you safe and sound if you behave.”

I pulled on the weapon, but he was so strong that I couldn’t make it budge. I leaned back, pulling with all my weight. 

He stepped toward the others, dragging me by the polearm. “Harker, tie her hands.”

The centaur wrested my hands off the polearm. I kicked his leg. He kicked back, and I jumped. My aching shin told me not to kick people with hooves again. 

When Harker looked up from binding me, he stared at Mark. “Is holding it painful?”

He shook his head. “You must have been mistaken about the ownership spell.” He offered my polearm to Harker. 

Harker touched it and immediately yanked his hand back. “Are you sure you’re not just resistant to the arka?”

Mark shook his head. “I would sense if that were the case.” He touched the flat side of the murder doughnut, and his eyes widened. “It has an Interface built in.” He ran his finger around the inside rim of the doughnut, which was dulled. Nothing happened, but he fiddled his fingers inside of the doughnut before stiffening. The polearm slipped from his fingers and clanked to the ground as he stumbled back. “Let her go.”