THE RUNAWAY(2/6)
The Magician - Book Two
An X-Files Fantasy by
Jennifer Lyon (jennyann@ix.netcom.com) and
Suzanne Bickerstaffe (Ecksphile@AOL.com)

Chapter Three Part A

<CLANG CRASSSHH CLANG> The heavy metallic blades of their swords
met and clung, then slid apart in an elaborate dance of parry and
thrust. Mulder danced aside, the rush of air split by Scully's sword
stinging his sweaty skin. He spun around, bringing his own blade down,
then up again, both hands clasped tightly on the hilt, nerves and
muscles jerking under the strain of the collision as the blades struck
in mid-air.
Scully gasped in response, the weight of her weapon pulling her
around to follow, as her attack was deflected by her partner's
strength. In the second it took her to break the sideward motion,
Mulder broke his own swing and angled his blade down to tap her on the
butt.
"Got you!" he crowed, breaking into a delighted grin even as he
leapt backwards to avoid her response.
She brought her blade back around and turned on her toes to face
him, her face a study in concentration. Hand-over-hand on the hilt,
she set the sword in motion, slicing through the air in a rapid pattern
of swirls and loops. Mulder lost his grin as she advanced on him with
certain determination, bringing his own sword back up into a suddenly
defensive posture. Slowly, she pushed him backwards, the
church-bell-like chiming of metal hitting metal filling the air. He
deflected blow after blow, his wrists aching as he twisted the sword
down, then up, then side and down, then up again and again. But she
was relentless, and with one last fury of motion, she finally slipped
the blade underneath his guard and poked his chest with the point of
the blade.
"Ouch!" he jumped backwards, swinging his own weapon up under
hers, so that the flat of the blade struck her wrists hard. The jolt
caused her hands to loosen on the sword and it tumbled to the ground.
But at the same moment, his momentum carried him backwards, the sword
rising up to point at the ceiling while his heels slid forward and
toppled backwards to land on his back.
Scully collapsed to her knees, drawing in sharp breaths, while he
swore viciously, his arms still outstretched upwards into mid-air
holding the sword. Despite herself, Scully found the sight of him
amusing, and she began to smile. Lowering the weapon to his side, he
propped himself up onto the other elbow and glared at her. Which only
made her laugh.
"It's not funny!" he told her. She pressed her hand to her
mouth as though to stifle her mirth, but only broke out into a fresh
spate of giggles. He frowned deeply, thrusting out his lower lip.
"Dammit, I would have won that time!"
She took a deep breath, held it and then released it with an
audible sigh. Then she smiled and reached out to pick up her sword.
"I think we can safely call it a tie."
He grumbled under his breath for a moment, then pushed himself up
into a sitting position. "One of these days I AM going to beat you."
"Probably," she agreed equably, rising to her feet. "But lets
call it quits for today, I want to get some stuff cleaned out at the
office before we start our vacation."
Mulder shrugged, figuring that he'd gotten the best he was going
to get out of his near-victory, and drew himself to his feet.
Retrieving his sword he followed her over the bench where they had left
the scabbards and a set of towels. Out of well-trained habit, they
cleaned off the swords and put them in their holders before rubbing the
sweat off their faces.
"I don't like being forced onto vacation like this. First we're
pulled off our own casework and sent to Pittsburgh, then we're ordered
to take time off. I keep wondering if we missed something important on
the cases we were looking into recently, something that would make the
powers-that-be want to distract us."
"Don't you think you're being a little paranoid? After all, we
haven't taken a vacation in over a year - at least by Bureau knowledge.
Our trip to the Realm effectively never occurred by this world's
timeline, so it's not unreasonable for Skinner to insist we take some
time off. It IS Bureau policy to have agents take regular rest
periods, in order to avoid burn-out."
"Maybe," Mulder replied. "But I just have a feeling that we're
missing something. Like something is going to happen." He stared at
the wall, his eyes losing their focus - or perhaps gaining it, though
the target of the focus appeared to be thin air. Scully had seen that
look often enough to know she ought to take it seriously, but she had
begun to look forward to their vacation time.
"Mulder!" she exclaimed, her voice rising into a shout at the
end of his name as he suddenly collapsed forward onto his knees.
Tossing her towel onto the bench, she squatted down beside him,
reaching out to hold his shoulders as his head drooped down towards the
floor. One arm tight around his back, she reached with the other to
support his forehead, anxiously feeling for the temperature of his
skin. He FELT cool enough, but his breath was coming in quick rasps,
and his muscles seemed to have become fluid, unable to carry his
weight.
She drew him down into her lap, turning him so that the back of
his head rested against her bent knees. "Mulder!?" she repeated
urgently, deftly checking first his pulse, and then his eyes. His
heartbeat was steady, but his irises were nearly swallowed by his
pupils, their color almost pitch-black. He stared straight up through
her, the eyelids slipping back down over his eyes the moment she
released them.
Looking swiftly around the empty gym, she lowered him gently to
the floor, planning to go call for an ambulance. However, before she
could get back up to her feet, he suddenly jerked upwards and seized
hold of her arm. "Scully!" he shouted.
Instantly, she was back down at his side, reaching out to hold
him. He braced himself against her, his eyes now open and darting
around the room as if surprised to find himself there. "Take it easy,"
she urged, trying to push him back down.
"No, ..." he protested. "I...We...have to... We have to..."
He blinked, then stared up at her in utter confusion. "We have to...?"
"What?"
"I...I don't remember!" He rubbed at his eyes, then looked
around him again, frowning deeply. "There was something..." He shook
his head, then gazed at her with lost eyes. "I can't remember!"
- - - - -

Tumbling, falling, head-over-heels. Andalor clutched his
precious bag of supplies against his chest and squeezed his eyes shut
in an attempt to fight the nausea. His stomach cramped into a tight
knot, his head reverberated with the nearly deafening whine, while his
body was pummeled with gale-force gusts of wind. Rolling up into a
fetal position with his sack between his chest and his knees, he
floated and spun within the Vortex, falling first one way and then
another, and then...
A brilliant burst of light broke through his clamped eyelids,
creating a rainbow of wavering spots across his vision. He jerked,
lowering his head away from the source, barely a heartbeat before he
was struck on the shoulder by something big and heavy, yet soft and
yielding. Crying out in surprise, he reached out with one hand to push
it away, not daring to look up to see it. Pushing against the unseen
object sent him flying sideways, only to be picked up by another stream
of force, and propelled back towards it, this time feet first. His
feet collided with 'something,' then his shoulder, and he was suddenly
dropped straight down.
Falling, falling, suddenly under the familiar weight of gravity,
Andalor managed to right himself so that he was going down feet first,
knees bent for impact. Even so, the jolt was bone-shattering when it
came, his feet, then his knees, then the knuckles of his hands striking
against a hard, cold, and very solid surface. Moaning, Andalor
followed his momentum over until his forehead struck the floor and then
his stomach finally gave way.
When the convulsive heaving finally ended, Andalor rolled over
onto his side, and finally let one eyelid slowly slide open. Things
were hazy at first, his ears gradually registering a volume of sound,
voices shouting half-familiar words underneath a blaring whine, the
screech of heavy objects being dragged along an unforgiving surface,
and a strange buzzing much like an angered nest of flower-bees. His
unfocused eyes were met with a similar cacophony of color and shape,
the figures of men dressed in white, flashing brilliant yellow lights
like miniature suns, the cold gray surface on which he lay, and... a
sprawling, red-stained heap just beyond his hands.
Just as he brought that object into focus, a pair of arms seized
his shoulders and yanked him backwards. As he went sprawling onto his
back, that image clarified in front of his shocked mind. It was a man,
and he was very, very dead, his chest shattered into a mass of blood
and spilled organs. As that recognition faded into the grim
countenance of the man still holding him down, Andalor took a deep
breath and screamed.
- - - - -

"Mulder, will you please at least SIT DOWN!" Scully glared at
her partner with a mix of relief, worry and utter exasperation.
"In a minute," he replied absently, as he continued to pace the
length of their office, barely missing the corners of the desk and the
file cabinets on each pass. His rapidly washed hair was standing on
end in the back, the bangs a loose curtain over his forehead. The
polka-dotted tie worn loose around his neck was hanging at an
impossible angle while his shirt-sleeves hanging unevenly around his
elbows. Scully felt a rush of affection, followed by another shot of
irritation.
"SIT DOWN!" Coming to an instant halt, he turned to face her
with a look of total confusion on his face.
"What?" he asked, his voice fading out as he took in her stance,
hands pressed firmly into her hips. The decision to do what she said
was not a hard one - that look in her eyes was the one that usually
meant he was either in trouble or about to given a shot. He didn't
like the idea of either. Giving her his best innocent look, he
scurried over to his chair, sat down, and propped his feet up on the
corner of his desk. Folding his hands in his lap, he leaned back and
treated her to the full effect of his wide-eyed, green-tinged gaze.
Scully sighed, frowning. "I still think you ought to see a
doctor."
"I AM seeing a doctor," he responded, the corners of his mouth
barely lifting.
She shook her head. "Mulder..."
"I'm FINE." She threw him her patented look of total disbelief,
causing him to lean forward in his chair. "Really. Look, I was
probably just tired. I drank a lot of wine last night, and didn't get
too much sleep. Add in our practice fight on an empty stomach and it's
no wonder I got a little dizzy."
Scully held the look of disbelief, but found it difficult to
argue any more. "OK..." At the look of relief on his face, she lifted
her hand up. "For NOW. Just promise me you'll take it easy." He
nodded, she waved her hand again, then pointed her index finger
straight at him. "And, you tell me the instant you feel any dizziness
at all."
"Sure," he said. She glared at him. He shrugged. "I will. I
promise. OK, Doctor Scully."
Her eyes made it clear he'd better keep his word.
- - - - -

The man in the strange clothes was clearly getting angry.
Andalor sat tall in his chair, his jaw jutted forward defiantly. The
sense of shame over his cowardly reaction to the dead body still
haunted him. Screaming like an elven maid at the sight of a frog - it
was embarrassing! He reassured himself with the thought that is was
surely just a reaction to the fall through the Vortex, and it would not
happen again. After all, he was Prince Andalor, heir to Fairwoods
Demesne, interworld traveler, and adventurer...
"Where did you come from?" The man in the odd dark clothes
interrupted the teenager's thoughts, leaning down to bore into his eyes
with a cold blue gaze. Andalor stared back, tightening his lips in
defiance.
"Answer me!" Andalor stayed mute. The man sighed with
exasperation and began to circle around the seated boy.
"Look, kid," the man tried again. "No one is going to hurt you,
we just need to know how you got in the middle of our..unh...work.
Tell us who you are and where you came from, and we can send you home."
Andalor didn't believe a word of it, for all his strangeness, this man
reminded him too much of his now-imprisoned Uncle Drellor. They both
had the same tone of voice, the same pomposity and ego, the same
slickness - reminiscent of the skin of a water-lizard.
Andalor didn't bother replying, or even following the man's
movements with his eyes. Instead he focused on the room, the
smoothness of the surfaces, the mage-lights that glowed behind
glass-like panels in the ceiling, the round turning knob in place of
the door-latch. His fingers itched to explore everything he could see
- it was hard to stay put. He needed to get out of this place and find
Mulder and Scully.
Before the irritated man could ask another question, the door
opened and a woman came in. She was dressed in a long white robe that
was open in the front to reveal an extremely short skirt. Andalor's
eyes widened at the sight of her bare legs - he'd never seen so much of
anyone's legs before, especially not a woman's. She was obviously
quite old, almost as old as Jourdain, but the her skin was smooth and
white. He was too busy staring at her calves to notice what she was
doing until after she had roughly forced his loose linen sleeve up his
arm. Her hands moved swiftly, then suddenly a sharp pain erupted in
the center of his right elbow.
"OUCH!" he yelled, yanking his arm away from her. She was
holding something that looked like a sewing needle attached to a clear
cylinder. He glared at it, then at her, but she had already turned to
the other man.
"Hold him still, will you. I need a blood sample." The words
were understandable, though his uncertain grasp of the meaning did not
make the Prince any happier. Nor did the sudden grasp of iron hands on
his shoulder and forearm.
"Let me go!" he demanded in his best royal voice. It was
ignored, as he felt again the stabbing pain of the needle piercing his
skin. He struggled as best he could, but was unable to dislodge
himself from the man's hands.
Soon, though, the needle was withdrawn, the small cylinder full
of a red liquid Andalor knew was his blood. His eyes were wide as he
stared at it, his breath coming in short gasps. Suddenly the room that
had seemed so big started to close in on him. His gaze darted from one
unsmiling face to another, coming to the realization that these people
could only mean him harm. His first instinct was to run to the door
and cry for help, but he stifled it. Drawing his back up straight, he
threw in his trump card.
"I'm a friend of Mage Mulder, and he's going to see you pay for
this!" Both pairs of eyes turned to stare at him in surprise. Then
the man jumped around to face Andalor. "Mulder! Fox Mulder?"
Andalor smiled easily, he knew that the name of such a powerful
magician would garner respect. "Yes, so you'd better let me go."
The man's small blue eyes narrowed into pinpoints under
threatening brows. "How do you know Mulder?"
"We're old friends," Andalor replied proudly.
"And he sent you here to spy on us?" the man spoke doubtfully.
Andalor shook his head. "No, the spell that brought me here must
have gotten mixed up with yours by accident."
"Spell?" The man shook his head, then stared at the ceiling for
a moment. Then in a very patient voice, he asked, "How much does
Mulder know?"
"Everything!" Andalor replied with total certainty, though he
wasn't quite sure what the man was asking about. But he felt it was a
safe bet that Mage Mulder knew everything important.
The woman smiled bitterly, the expression clearly not one of joy.
"So much for your security measures, Gordan." She received a cold
glare in response.
"Don't you have work to do, 'Doctor' Mather?" She inclined her
head almost contemptuously, picked up her equipment and left the room.
The man named Gordan turned back to the boy.
"So are you telling me that Mulder knows about our work here and
sent you - a teenage boy - to investigate for him?" His voice dripped
sarcasm.
Andalor frowned, something was definitely wrong, though he wasn't
sure what. "No, I'm on my way to visit Mulder, and got mixed up in
your magic somehow. If you let me go now, I'm sure he'll forgive you
for holding me up."
"Forgive us? Magic?!" For an instant Andalor thought Gordan was
going to strike him, but instead he leaned in close to the boy. "Look
I don't know what kind of game you and Mulder think you are playing,
but it won't work. This project is under strict need-to-know
protection for national security reasons, and we will not tolerate
interference or exposure, especially by 'Spooky' Mulder. He's stuck
his nose in where it doesn't belong one time too many!"
The contempt and hostility that Gordan felt for Mulder struck
Andalor harder than any physical blow could have. He reeled under it,
as he was struck by the accompanying realization that he had fallen
into the hands of Mulder's enemies. Black magicians! The thought made
him feel sick inside, he had heard horror stories about the terrible
things evil mages did to their victims. And they already had some of
his blood! They could be casting some nightmarish spell right now!!!!
Fear striking through him, he cast his eyes around the room,
desperately seeking an escape route, but there was none.
Closing his eyes and ignoring Gordan's ranting demands for
answers, Andalor reached down deep into his eidetic memory, looking for
a way to call for help. Surely Reinald had taught him a spell that he
could use to contact Mulder and warn him. Ah...YES! Taking in several
deep breaths, Andalor began to softly mumble the words of the magic
chant, his mind focusing on his last remembered image of Mulder's face.
- - - - -

Scully tapped once more on her keyboard, then leaned back in her
chair and rubbed her eyes. Stifling a yawn, she looked over at Mulder
who was holding a set of file folders in his hands, paging from one to
another, staring at the contents like a child regarding the ice cream
counter at Baskin Robbins. His eyes were bright, the green tint nearly
obscuring the brown, and his mouth trembled with barely concealed
excitement. The sudden memory of him looking at her like that caused
an almost electric tingle to race along her groin.
Easing herself out of her chair, she got to her feet and walked
around behind him. He didn't notice her until she took a firm grasp on
the file folders and yanked them out of his grasp.
"What? Scully!" he protested, reaching out to grab for the
files.
"Unh uh," she told him, dropping the files on the desk and
neatly inserting herself between it and him. He bumped right up into
her, so that her hips were pressed against his thighs, her face against
his chest. She nuzzled into him even as she fought to keep him from
retrieving up the files. They struggled for a moment, Mulder leaning
side-to-side to get around her, Scully continuously batting his hands
away from the desk. He growled in frustration even as she grabbed the
nearest hand and drew it to her mouth.
"Ouch!" he yelled as she bit into the flesh of his palm. The
corners of her mouth curved upwards as her tongue flicked out between
red lips to lick at the spot she had bitten. THIS got his full
attention.
//Dana?\\ he sent, his eyes widening. She suckled on the edge
of his palm, then pressed his hand down against her chest.
//We are taking a vacation,\\ she told him firmly. //No
X-Files, no monsters or dead bodies, no aliens, no woods, no weird
diseases, no anything except you and me and a nice big, clean bed and a
hot running shower. I don't care if we don't leave my apartment for
two weeks or go to Hawaii - but NO MORE WORK!\\
By the time she had finished communicating that demand, his hands
were already occupied with exploring the familiar lush curves of her
body, and his mouth was nibbling at her forehead, drifting slowly
downwards. "Ummm hmmm," he managed to get out just before he claimed
her mouth. She felt the shock of that kiss from head to toe, the
strength of her desire for this contrary man surprising her yet again.
Leaning upwards, she met his passion with hers, until they were both
gasping for breath.
He paused for a moment, one long-fingered hand sliding upwards to
cup her chin. Tenderly, he traced her jawline, then ran the tips of
his fingers though the hair curling in the hollow of her neck. Then,
meeting her eyes directly, he took in a deep breath, darted his eyes
from her face to the haphazard pile of files, and back to her face.
Finally, he nodded and whispered - "Okay."

-----------------------
end Chpt 3 Part A
-----------------------

Chapter 3 Part B

Even despite his agreement to forgo work for the two weeks of
their vacation, Mulder still managed to drag a couple of the ongoing
case files home with them. He swore he just wanted to do some
info-gathering via the internet, so that they would be up-to-date when
they returned. Scully shot him a daggered look, full of warning. He
grinned unabashedly, and sneaked a kiss before they got in the car to
leave FBI headquarters.
The drive went as smoothly as maneuvering through rush hour
traffic ever does, until they were about a block from Scully's
apartment. Scully was absentmindedly staring out the window of the
car, when it suddenly veered sharply to the left.
"Mulder!!!" she cried, as the car swung sideways across the
other lane of traffic. Tires screeched and a car horn blared as the
oncoming car jerked to a stop, only inches from their car as it rolled
towards the opposite sidewalk. Scully grabbed for the wheel with one
hand and Mulder with the other, screaming his name at the top of her
lungs. He was senseless, his head jerking forward over the steering
wheel, his body slumping against her.
//MULDER!\\ she cried into his head as the car careened up onto
the sidewalk, then slid sideways yet again. It was sheer luck that
they had been going less than twenty miles per hour when he lost
control, making the final collision with a telephone pole
uncomfortable, but not life-threatening. Nonetheless, Scully was in a
near state of panic afterwards as she cradled the unconscious Mulder in
her arms. Her terror warred with her professional training, until she
was finally able to switch fully into her "doctor" mode. Shutting the
car's engine off with a quick twist of the keys, she struggled to get a
better hold on Mulder. 'Dammit,' she swore aloud as she tried to rest
him back against his seat, why did the man have to be so damn big?
Just as abruptly as he had collapsed, Mulder jerked in her arms,
nearly striking his head against the steering wheel. His eyes were
fully dilated, black orbs that stared into thin air with frightening
intensity. She held tightly to his arms, trying to settle him down,
but his hands were already moving. Clawing at his throat, he yanked
his tie off his neck, then ripped open his shirt. Buttons went flying
as he tore at the thin linen, opening it half-way down his chest.
Nestled into the hollow of his throat, the miniature oracle cloud was
glowing a bright yellow-orange, sending out throbbing waves of light.
Mulder closed a hand around it, then let go with a shriek of
pain. He groaned again, and tried to grab at the chain wrenching it
away from his skin. But the flashing crystal hit the edge of his palm
and he dropped it with a sobbing whimper. "Get it off, get it off, get
it off..."
Confused and frightened, Scully couldn't help responding to the
urgency in his voice. Lifting one hand off his elbow, she took hold of
the shimmering jewel. It was hot to the touch, but hardly unbearable.
She closed her hand around it, preventing any further contact with his
skin and he subsided in response, a muttering groan escaping his
clamped lips. As he leaned his head back against the head-rest of the
driver's seat, she reached her free hand under his neck and found the
clasp of the chain. It took a few long minutes to release the clasp
with the fumbling fingers of one hand, but it finally came loose. She
removed the entire necklace from his body, and turned in her seat to
hold it cradled in two hands.
The crystal was still warm to the touch, sending off faint pulses
of light, but the further she took it away from Mulder, the dimmer and
cooler it became. Quickly, she deposited it into her coat pocket, then
looked back over at her partner. He was leaning back in the seat, eyes
focused on the ceiling, one hand pressed into the hollow of his throat.
His breath came in deep, rasping gasps, his lungs filling then
releasing in a whistling rush. His chest heaved, and she could almost
see the pulse throbbing in his temples.
"Mulder?" she reached out to touch him gently, trying to pull
his hand down from his chest. Her blue eyes widened in shock as she
took in the reddened, already blistering areas of skin on the center of
his chest and along the inside of his right palm. He didn't notice her
at first, then swiftly angled his head down to look at her. Their eyes
melded, her hand closed around his wrist, and she felt herself drawn
into the whirlwind of his mind. Her pulse raced, her stomach turned
over, a sudden deep aching lassitude struck her. Her hand turned hot
on his wrist, his skin felt like it was burning under her palm.
"Scully..." he whispered though clenched teeth, unable to remove
his wrist from her burning grip. She gave a moaning cry, slumping
forward into his arms, never releasing her death grip on his arm. his
other arm moved swiftly around her, to support her, his entire body
forming a cup to hold her. The sudden flare of heat between their
skins faded, and she closed her eyes and let him support her. Mulder
curled around her as best as the close confines of the car seat would
let him, nuzzling his face into her hair. Dazed, he had little
comprehension of what had just happened, and he hardly had the energy
to do more than breath.
They rested together for a tiny eternity, until a loud sound
broke through the silence.
<RAP RAP RAP RAP> Mulder somehow found the strength to turn his
head around to stare out the side-window. There, a vision of summer
sunshine shimmering off of metal decorations in a sea of blue, was a
city police officer. The increasingly loud noise was the insistent
clamor of knuckles on glass. Mulder closed his eyes as pain lanced
through his temple - and groaned aloud.
- - - - -

Andalor's feet dragged along the smooth floor as he was
half-carried down the long empty hallway. His captors were both twice
his size, big men in gray clothes with shiny decorations and heavy
belts from which hung strange objects. Andalor didn't know what they
were, and wasn't sure he wanted to find out. His feet fought for
purchase on the slick surface, but his leather boots kept slipping and
sliding beneath him, while his arms felt like they were about to slip
out of his shoulders. The men's huge, meaty hands were like iron
clasps around his upper arms, and they dragged him between them like an
unwieldy sack of flour. He wanted to yell at them to
put him down, but he didn't think they would listen any better than
the black magician Gordan had.
As soon as Andalor had realized that he was being held by
Mulder's enemies, he had clamped up tight again. He told himself it
was because he did not want to betray anything to the Good Mage's
enemies, but a little part of him knew it was more out of simple
terror. He had expected almost anything out of the trip though the
Vortex, except falling into the hands of powerful black magicians. He
knew they were powerful because of the profligate use of magic spells
throughout this strange fortress. They even lit all the rooms with
mage lights, and operated the doors with them. Andalor had heard that
black Mages could drain power from the blood of their victims, which
must be what they were planning to do with the blood they had stolen
from him. If that weren't bad enough, his one attempt to reach Mulder
to warn him had obviously failed, leaving the boy perilously close to
tears.
The two servants dragged him around a corner, then pulled to a
stop in front of a large metallic door. Andalor couldn't quite
identify the substance, but it looked extremely strong. One man
touched an object on the wall beside the door, pressing little white
squares that seemed to give way to the force of his finger tips,
emitting loud squeaks. After several of the beeps, a louder buzz
sounded and the door began to open with a loud click. The man on
Andalor's left used his free hand to pull the door open, then together
they threw him inside.
Andalor tumbled forward, barely clamping down on a shriek of
surprise that turned into a groan when he hit what felt like polished
stone with the entire front length of his body. A loud bang behind
him, extinguishing all of the light. Laying prone on the ground, he
was plunged into utter darkness.
Scrape, shuffle, scrape, the sounds of movement broke into the
silence - he was NOT alone. Scrambling up into a kneeling crouch,
Andalor strained to see anything in the blackness, but his eyes met
with nothing. "Whoooo's there?" He was embarrassed to hear his voice
come out in a squeaky whisper.
"Who are you?" a voice out of the darkness challenged in return.
Andalor's racing heartbeat slowed at the sound. It was obviously
young and female. He straightened up his head and replied proudly, "I
am Prince Andalor."
"Prince?" Her voice was caustic, disbelieving.
Andalor frowned unseen, rising to his feet. He carefully stepped
closer to her. "Who are you," he demanded again.
"Shannon," the answer finally came, followed by the sound of
more movement. There was a pair of sharp clicks, then a suddenl burst
of light. Andalor shielded his eyes with a gasp of surprise, then
slowly lowered his arm. Facing him was a girl of about his own age,
although her dress and ornamentation was strange enough to do a troll
proud. She wore some kind of black material that reminded him of
leather, and it molded so tightly to her body that he wondered how she
had gotten it on. Draped over that was a bright, multi-colored shawl
and an excess of jewelry, silver, gold, and copper strands decorating
her neck, wrists, ankles, and dangling from her ears.
Andalor met her clear amber gaze straight on, memorizing her
face. It had an almost elven cast to it, sharp cheekbones, high
forehead, full mouth. Her ebony black hair was pulled straight back
from her face to fall in a long braid down over her shoulder. She was
even thinner than he was, and her stance was poised and ready. She
returned his scrutiny, her eyes tracing him with a mixture of curiosity
and contempt. Finally she spoke.
"So where'd they pick you up?" she asked. "The latest
Renaissance fair or something?" Again Andalor was unhappy to find that
his supposedly excellent understanding of this language had serious
holes in it. "No," he replied with his best regal calm. "Their spell
got mixed up with the one bringing me to this world and pulled me
here." At this she broke out laughing.
Andalor pursed his lips, then tried to ignore her laughter.
Turning his back, he studied the room. It was small and rectangular,
the door filling one short wall with seamless metal. Obviously, the
only way to open it was from the outside. There was a pair of small
beds, each pressed up against a long wall, and a small table between
them against the far wall. On that table was the source of light, an
object that had some similarity to an oil lamp, though it, too, was
obviously magic-powered. There was a pair of small cabinets at the
ends of the beds, the one on the right with some clothes and books
strewn over it. Figuring that one was hers, he moved over to the other
bed and sat down on the edge of it gingerly.
The bed creaked under his weight, the lumpy bedding shifting
beneath him. He pulled his knees up to his chest and glared at his
still giggling companion.
"I don't see what you have to laugh about," he told her. "Seems
to me that you are as much a prisoner here as I am." That did shut her
up, her mouth closed into a thin line and she sat down on the bed
facing him, her dark brows thunderous over her honey-colored eyes.
"Maybe, but not for long!" she responded defiantly. He arched a
golden eyebrow at her, mimicking a gesture he had always associated
with Healer-Warrior Scully.
"They won't hold me for long!" she yelled, getting up and
running towards the door. Her foot collided with the metal with a
resounding thud, then she fell backwards to land on the floor. It was
Andalor's turn to laugh, and he took full advantage of it. She turned
around and scowled fiercely at him. "I don't see you, Mr. 'Prince
Andalor' coming up with any bright ideas on how to get out of here."
Andalor scowled back. "I'll think of something." They both
turned and stared at the uncompromising door with equally frustrated
expressions.
- - - - - -

Mulder swiveled on the couch, his gaze returning as it often had
that evening to the bedroom door behind which sat his miniature oracle
crystal. He had tried once more to touch it after Scully and he had
finally gotten free of the local police, and it had again blazed up
with both light and heat. It was okay when Scully touched it, hot, but
not unbearable, the light fading to softer pulses. So she had secreted
it in her jewelry box, safe and out of sight. But Mulder couldn't help
thinking about it, his mind running in circles.
"Stop that," Scully's voice demanded as he felt the couch shift
to accept her weight beside him.
"Stop what?" He followed her pointed gaze to find himself
rubbing his hand over the spot on his chest where the orb had hung.
The spot that had been burned by the heat from the crystal, but was now
smooth and undamaged.
He pulled his hand away, and turned to face her. She reached out
to take his arm, automatically checking his pulse. With a sudden burst
of irritation, he yanked his arm free of her grasp. "I'm fine," he
said.
She gave an exaggerated sigh. "Yeah, right. You collapse twice
in one day, causing a car accident. and you suffered second degree
burns, but sure - you're fine." She rolled her eyes towards the
ceiling.
"YOU healed the burns," he reminded her, not that she really
needed reminding. The effects of that use of psychic energy was still
sapping her strength, leaving her feeling weak and exhausted. Yet, the
worst was the sense of being out of control. She had hardly planned
on doing the healing - in fact, she had thought that she couldn't do it
at all. She had learned to accept that things were a certain way in
the Realm, that she and Mulder had special abilities - THERE. But
those talents ranged from limited to non-existent in this world, the
REAL world, and she was more than content to leave it that way.
Mulder, of course, was never content to leave anything alone, and he
could drive her crazy with his insistence on pushing the barriers of
the possible.
"I know," she told him abruptly. "But that still doesn't
explain what happened to you."
He bit at his lower lip in concentration, then rubbed at his chin
in an utterly characteristic gesture. "I've been thinking about that.
I think...I think that my use of magic against the Pittsburgh Rapist
must have triggered it somehow, or altered the spell on it in some way.
I'm not even completely sure what kind of spell Reinald put on it in
the first place, and going through the Vortex, combined with the
weakened and different state of magical energy in this dimension, might
have affected it so that my first serious use of magic here damaged
it." He frowned, not happy with the consequences of that possibility.
The crystal was their only remaining link with the Realm, and its
presence had been a comfort - a guarantee that 'someday' they might see
their friends again.
Scully saw the worry in his eyes, and reached out instinctively
to comfort him. "We're both exhausted. There's no use worrying about
it now. Let's get some sleep, and talk about it in the morning." She
didn't like the shadows under his eyes or the drawn cast to his face.
Promising herself she would get him to a doctor the next day no matter
how hard he argued against it, she urged him into the bedroom.
He went willingly enough - even if he wouldn't admit it aloud,
he was extremely tired. At this moment, settling into bed with the
woman he loved in his arms was all he that he could concentrate on.
But once his head hit the pillow, with Scully laying against his side,
he felt a sudden surge of energy. As she ever so gently smoothed the
silken locks of dark hair off his forehead then leaned down to kiss him
on the lips, his arms tightened reflexively around her, pulling her
down into his embrace.
He tenderly lifted her chin upwards and captured her lips with
his. "Mmmmm," she murmered against his deepening kiss, her mouth
parting to breath in the taste of his. //I thought we were going to
get some sleep?\\ she chided softly.
//We will....just not quite yet...\\ Her laughter echoed in his
mind, as her tongue darted up between his teeth, returning his
caresses, teasing the depths of his mouth in swift, sure strokes.
Pushing one knee up, he deftly lowered her onto her back and
settled his weight upon her. She rested back against the mattress,
twining her arms around his shoulders to draw him even closer.
They made love gently, tenderly, letting the now familiar passion
swell slowly. Mulder drew in the taste of her skin, savoring each
soft, textured inch. He felt like he could spend an eternity exploring
her, and still find new delights at every turn. He traced the lush,
well-defined curves of her body with loving fingers and questing
tongue, feeling each sensation, as he caused it, echo from her mind to
his, and then back again. Never could he have imagined what it could
be like to make love with a woman who shared his mind, whose every
thoughts were his, who knew every crevice of his soul as intimately as
she knew every part of his body.
Dipping his tongue into the honeyed flesh between her legs, his
groin convulsed with the strength of her pleasure, and when he lowered
his throbbing manhood into the welcoming depths of her body, they -
together - felt the whole world shatter and then come whole again -
reformed in the image of their love.
- - - - -

Scully was dreaming. Her auburn head tossed and turned on
Mulder's shoulder as the images flashed in front of her eyes. The
Realm, castle and woods; their friends, Reinald and Aldara and
Jourdain. Then Andalor, first alive and laughing, a golden haired
child, then frozen into a stone statue. There was something evil
hovering over that fair head, something dark and deadly. Scully cried
out, stretching out her hand... And woke up.
Sitting up in bed, she rubbed at her eyes, trying to shake off
the feeling of imminent danger pressing in on her senses. I need this
vacation more than I had thought, she told herself with a shaky laugh.
Settling back down against Mulder's side, she drank in the warmth of
his body and the pleasure of his nearness. His face was relaxed and
innocent in its slumber, the lines smoothed out of his skin. She
nuzzled her face against the side of his chest, enjoying the musky
familiar scent of his body, then closed her eyes and slowly fell back
to sleep.
Again, she was inundated by the images of the Realm. First a
replay of memories, then the abrupt change into fear and unease.
Aldara and Jourdain's voices called out her name, their faces were
beseeching, but distant, lost in a heavy fog. She almost - almost -
touched Aldara's hand, then lost her. Reinald was next, falling close
to her, then tumbling away, his deep voice crying her name over and
over....
"Reinald!!!!" Scully screamed, jolting up to a sitting position.
Her cry woke Mulder up and he reached for her.
"What's wrong?" he asked, wrapping his arms around her. She
shivered and leaned back into his embrace. "Just a nightmare," she
whispered against his chest.
"You called Reinald's name?" Mulder questioned against her hair,
between kisses dropped onto the thick red strands.
She nodded against him. "Yes, he, they all, were calling out to
me. They needed my help, but I couldn't reach them. They were so far
away..."
"I know, love, I know. But it's okay. It was just..." Mulder's
voice trailed off, and he stared out across the room. Scully lifted
her head to look up at him.
"Mulder?" she asked. "Mulder!" He shook his head, then focused
down at her. "I think... Scully, where did you put that oracle
cloud?"
"In the box on the dresser, why?"
"What if Reinald really is trying to communicate with me? That
would explain everything, the dizzy spells, why the oracle cloud is
responding so strongly." Mulder's body suddenly shook, and his eyes
began to waver. He fell back against the pillows, releasing Scully who
kneeled over him, her face taut with concern.
"Get the crystal, Scully...hurry!" he rasped. She hesitated for
an instant, then slid off the bed to retrieve the miniature oracle
cloud. Light burst out of the box when she opened it, the crystal
almost too hot for her to hold. She lifted it by the chain and ran
back to the bed.
When she was beside him with the crystal, Mulder grabbed it out
of her hand, yelping aloud with the pain of the contact. It flared in
his grasp, filling the entire room with a flash of light. Shielding
her eyes, Scully winced, then stared in astonishment as the light faded
into a small glowing image.
And saw a very familiar face.

End Chapter Three

Chapter Four Part A

The Professor was hunched over his table as he had been for the
previous nineteen hours. The parchments in front of him were black
with the ink of his figures and formulae. Wearily, he lay the pen down
and stretched back in his chair. He would have to check his work for
accuracy, of course, but he believed he now knew where and when Andalor
had emerged from the vortex. At the insistent rap, Neumann rose
stiffly from his chair and crossed the carpeted stone floor of his
bedchamber to the door.
"Ah, Tarnor, you've returned. Please, enter." The Professor
swung the door wide to allow the little gargoyle, blue cloak folded
over his arm, to pass through. The two walked to the hearth, where
the exhausted scientist poured out tea for himself and Tarnor as
dictated by the etiquette of the land. Then they took their seats in
the deeply cushioned armchairs.
"I trust your journey was pleasant," Neumann began politely.
The gargoyle looked at him as if he had lost his mind.
"Professor - what in the name of the gods has been going on? Reinald
is closeted in Corvay's workroom and has left orders not to be
disturbed, the countryside is rife with rumors, and when I saw Jourdain
and Aldara just now, they looked terribly upset and said to go talk to
you. What is going on around here?" Tarnor demanded. He had been a
fully trained mage for quite a long time now, and had been in another
part of the Realm for many weeks, visiting village mages and speaking
to villagers to ensure that the mages were using their powers
appropriately. There were a few whom he needed to discuss with
Reinald. In the process of gathering evidence to support Reinald in
his trial after the spell cast on Andalor years before, the existence
of many corrupt and evil mages had been uncovered. Tarnor had been
able to devise a spell that, under certain circumstances, could divest
such a mage of his abilities. His vocation for the last several years
had been to travel throughout the Realm, seeking out the corrupt mages.
When found, their powers would be stripped from them by means of
Tarnor's spell, or they would be exiled if his spell was not wholly
effective. But now his attention was diverted - he had been shaken by
what he discovered upon his return to Fairwoods Keep.
Neumann sighed and brought him up to date with Andalor's
disappearance. "I've finished the calculations - there's a 97.4%
chance that my figures are accurate and that I have been able to
pinpoint the date and place that Andalor came out of the vortex. Try
as I might, I simply can't get any closer. But I'm afraid that I have
discovered a small problem." The Professor drained the last of the tea
from his cup and rose from the deep armchair. "The plan was for us all
to meet when my calculations were complete. Let's go let Reinald know
and gather the troops."
The pair met Aldara and Jourdain, now accompanied by Daanna, in
the corridor. The little girl squealed with delight and jumped into
Tarnor's arms. The two had always had a special affinity for each
other, and now the child rode in her accustomed spot on Tarnor's broad
shoulders. Together they went to Reinald's chamber and sent Pitir to
fetch his master. Within a few minutes, the Mage and the healer
arrived. Tea was served and they all sat down.
"I assume that since we are all gathered here that you have
finished your calculations, Professor," said Reinald. "Everybody else
ready with their part of the plan?" There were affirmative nods all
around. "All right, Professor - you start."
Professor Neumann looked around at those assembled. There were
dark circles under his eyes and though normally gaunt, he looked
absolutely haggard with fatigue. "I know where Andalor arrived to
within a few kilometers, and when he arrived to within a few days."
There were pleased exclamations from Aldara and Reinald, nods from
Tarnor and Jourdain.
Corvay looked at the scientist shrewdly. "But..."
The Professor smiled wryly at him. "There's always a 'but',
isn't there?" His expression sobered and he sighed. "In calculating
where Andalor emerged from the vortex, I discovered a little 'glitch in
the program', as we say in my world. It appears that I can direct with
almost 100 percent accuracy EITHER the time OR the place of arrival,
but not both at the same time. Andalor arrived at almost the same
place that I was planning to send the goat, but nowhere near the same
time. Even allowing for the difference between the goat's mass and
Andalor's doesn't explain the error. I'm sure I'll find a way to
control them both simultaneously at some point.
If I were in my own world with my equipment, I think I could do it.
But right now time is of the essence, and presently I do not have the
ability to do both."
"What does that mean in terms of the rescue team?" questioned
Jourdain. Even without this new problem, finding Andalor seemed to be
an insurmountable task.
"Well, it means that if we send a rescue team, we can choose
either the place of their arrival or the time. But only one with any
real accuracy."
"How inaccurate is the option not taken likely to be?" Jourdain
asked. "If we choose arriving at the right time as a priority, as I
believe we must, will we emerge in a different world, possibly even the
Dark Realm?"
Emphatically the Professor shook his head. "No, that particular
door is closed forever, I sealed that before I even left my world. I
agree about the time factor - I believe that is the 'known' that we
must choose. We can travel through space much more easily than through
time. I believe I can get us to my world, I would say... within 2000
kilometers or so... of where Andalor is right now. With the methods of
transportation available, a journey of no more than a few hours by
plane, maybe two days by car."
The group looked dumbfounded. Even without full understanding of
what a 'kilometer' was, they knew that 2000 of them must be huge
distance, and that such a distance could be travelled in such a short
time was amazing!
Maybe the Professor's world was more magical than they had thought.
They started looking much brighter.
"Before you start celebrating too much, I must tell you it is not
without danger," the Professor said earnestly. "We might emerge in the
middle of an ocean, or in front of a speeding truck. From both my
experience and that of Mage Mulder and Scully on their return, I can
tell you that you may emerge at some height from the ground. I have no
control over that." Tarnor absently rubbed a leathery hip as he
remembered his own rather precipitous entry into the other world.
The Professor looked at the assembled group. "I would suggest
sending two or more teams. For one thing, I cannot promise the safety
of a vortex large enough to send through a group of more than two or
three people. Bigger than that, and it could be so powerful that other
things or people could inadvertantly be sucked in. Secondly, if one
team comes to disaster, the other team will still be able to function
and complete its mission." Jourdain nodded.
"You haven't told us where Andalor is," Aldara said.
"I had planned to send the goat to my lab in Cambridge,
Massachusetts, the day of an experiment we were doing in my world year
of 1951. Andalor is, I believe, somewhere in Cambridge, though not in
my lab; the difference between his mass and the goat's caused that
variation. The time however, is closer to the time I left my world.
In other words, not long after Mulder and Scully returned from the
Realm to my world."
Reinald looked thoughtful. "So Andalor is in the same timeframe
as our old friends?"
"Quite by accident, yes," the Professor replied. "If Andalor's
purpose was to go to the other world to see Mulder, then he was
extremely fortunate to end up where he did." Neumann stopped for a
second, then started muttering to himself. "Wait - unless the
correlation of my calculations with what happened is accidental. I
wonder....could the intent of the vortex traveller have any
effect...unusual to be sure, beyond the explanation of science
certainly, but it might be possible...."
"And Mulder and Dana dwell near to your lab?" cut in Aldara
excitedly.
Neumann smiled. "Not too far - a few hundred kilometers."
"How long a journey is that on foot?" Tarnor questioned. He
remembered the lab - all too well - and he had no desire to return to
it. He knew that Andalor's first instinct would probably be to try to
get to Mulder any way he could.
"On foot?" Neumann scratched his chin and pondered. "Well, I
suppose someone could do it in a week or ten days or so. It would not
be easy, however. The other world is not conducive to foot travel."
"How well prepared for this journey was Andalor?" Tarnor
inquired. "Was his knowledge of the tongue enough to make his needs
understood? What did he bring with him to sustain him?"
"An excellent question. I have done a bit of research into the
matter," responded Pitir. Glancing in Reinald's direction, he said,
"If I may, sir." Receiving his master's nod, the troll continued, "I
wondered that myself, so I sought out Dorbo, Prince Andalor's servant.
His Highness took his knife, that is known. Also a few items of
clothing, and a little food. Now this is not generally known, and
Dorbo told me in confidence, but he knew that the Prince had a little
hidey-hole where he kept things - what items, Dorbo was unable to tell
me. But together we checked the secret cache, and it was empty. I
assume it had contained valuables of some sort."
"Good work, Pitir," Reinald smiled. The little troll beamed.
"And I can speak to the boy's proficiency in the English
language. He may have a little trouble with slang and idiomatic
expressions - as I did from time to time - but for the most part he
will have no problem. Our lessons were thorough - he speaks better
English than I do New Realm," added the Professor.
Corvay nodded. "All right. So the news is not entirely bad.
Andalor speaks the tongue and has access to a weapon and friends, if he
can reach them, and has the resources to procure food. We know
approximately where he is in place and time. Reinald, do you want to
tell everyone our part of the plan?"
"Corvay and I have been working hard to try to presuppose what
the rescue team will need and we did come to some conclusions. But I
don't know if you are going to like all of them." The Mage looked
around the room at the group. "First, we'll need a language spell. We
will be helpless in the other world without some knowledge of their
tongue, and we don't have time to learn it. It is not a perfect
answer. You may remember when Mage Mulder and Warrior Healer Scully
were among us that there were some things said which the language spell
could not cope with - words peculiar to our culture or theirs, in
particular. It was not until they finally learned our language that
such gaps were closed. So the language spell will help, but will not
solve all communication difficulties. I will return to this subject in
a moment."
"Corvay will put together a packet of teas and herbs and the
makings for certain potions, along with the directions for their use.
Especially if the team were to join forces with Healer Scully, she
should remember enough of her lessons with Corvay to use them
appropriately. Now, that takes care of the two most pressing needs that
we could think of."
He continued. "Now in terms of tactics and strategies, we came
to a few conclusions - and this is the part that I fear you may take
exception to in one or two instances, especially as things tend to
stray over into your area of responsibility, Jourdain. First, we
believe it is absolutely necessary to enlist the assistance of Mage
Mulder and Dana Scully. They are our friends and their work in their
world suits them ideally to our task.
The more people we have who are acquainted with both the Realm and
the other world, the greater our chance of success will be. I think
you will remember that I gave Mage Mulder a miniature oracle cloud when
he left the Realm to return to his world. As far as I know, he still
has it, though he has not made an attempt to reach me through it since
his departure. I have been attempting to reach him for the past couple
of days through the full sized Oracle Cloud. It would be preferable to
notify Mulder of our plans before we get there, to prearrange meeting
places, to obtain his aid when we arrive, and for him to begin looking
for Andalor before we arrive. As yet, I have had no response but I
will keep trying."
"Which brings me to your area, Jourdain - the composition of the
rescue team. I would like to strongly suggest that the Professor be on
the team." He looked anxiously at his Captain of the Guards, knowing
that Neumann was not one of Jourdain's favorite people.
Jourdain nodded. "You'll get no argument from me, Reinald. We
had reached the same conclusion ourselves."
Reinald looked somewhat relieved. "Good, though you may not be
so happy about my next recommendation. I believe I must also accompany
the rescue party."
"But who will see to running the Realm?" Tarnor protested.
"Already the countryside is talking of a great disaster which has
befallen the Prince, and the noble houses are being characteristically
political. If you leave, it will give certain factions the opportunity
they have been waiting for. Some still support Drellor, who has been
quite actively pursuing his own interests from his prison cell."
"It can't be helped, Tarnor. I must be there. We have no way of
knowing for certain what spells might be needed in the other world. We
don't even know if a spell that works here works the same way there.
What if I pronounced the language spell and the trip through the vortex
changed it in some way? The rescue team would be helpless, except for
the Professor, and we have already decided that two teams would be
preferable - therefore one team will not have the benefit of the
Professor's knowledge. We are also uncertain about handling the vortex
from the other world. Hopefully we will have access to the Professor's
equipment, but we cannot count on that, so both the Professor and I
will need to be in the other world to ensure that we will be able to
get home to the Realm. With your approval, I will ask Prince Mavor to
take my place as Regent while I am gone."
"An excellent choice, Reinald, but the noble houses will not be
happy, you do realize that," commented Aldara. "You know how bigoted
they are. They will interpret your choice of an elven prince to be in
charge of the Realm as an insult to their 'honor'."
"Yes, I know and it can't be helped. Besides, they interpret
anything I do as an insult to their 'honor'," he said dryly. "All
right, do I have your approval to take this to the Council of
Representatives?"
The group indicated its approval of the plan.
"Jourdain and Aldara, sorry to intrude on your area. Can you
tell us of the other members of the team?"
The couple looked at each other. Aldara nodded to Jourdain, and
he started. "When we were charged with the composition of the rescue
team, we were told to be practical. I'm not sure we have completely
fulfilled that charge, to tell you honestly. The composition of the
team was decided by Daanna."
"What?" Reinald asked. "Jourdain, I trust you have more to say
about this."
"Reinald, Daanna had another of her visions," Aldara explained.
"She said she saw the Professor and yourself and Jourdain, all of whom
we would have included in any case. But she also saw myself and
Tarnor, and was most insistent that we both had to go, although for
both personal and practical reasons neither of us would seem to be a
good choice. I know that it seems frivolous to make such important
choices on the basis of a child's strange powers. But she has never
been wrong yet. Tell us what you think, Reinald."
"Daanna, come over here to me," the Mage said kindly. The little
girl approached him and he helped her into his lap. "Tell me your
dream, child."
Daanna repeated her vision of two nights past. Considerable
excitement was generated when she mentioned the two people who must
surely be Mulder and Scully, and the appearance of the Prince who was
still in one piece. Frowns took the place of the happy expressions
when she talked about the frightening men.
"I have never known the child to have a single element of her
vision be either incorrect or exaggerated," Reinald said. "I would
have thought that sending Tarnor to the other world would be dangerous
due to his species - it will be hard to disguise him - but if Daanna
says he must be there and if Tarnor agrees, then I have no objection.
What say you all?"
There were nods of assent. "No child wants both her mother and
father to leave her, unless there is a very good reason. You're a very
brave little girl, Daanna," said the Professor.
She shrugged. "It has to be like this, like the dream, or bad
things will happen. I don't want bad things to happen," she said in a
quivering voice, and jumped down from Reinald's lap to run into the
comfort of her mother's arms.
"We have asked Lita to care for Daanna in our absence, and Pitir
has agreed to help her continue with her lessons," Aldara said.
"Well, you seem to have everything under control," replied
Corvay. "Tarnor, what do you say? You will be inconvenienced and
endangered the most - you know the excitement your arrival generated
the last time. While the others can blend in reasonably easily, you
will not have that advantage. No one will think the less of you if you
choose not to go."
Tarnor was silent for a moment, then he slowly smiled. "But I
will think less of myself, Healer. I trust Daanna's words -
apparently, I have a mission in the other world. Therefore, I will go."
Corvay nodded approvingly. "Then we have our plan and we have our
rescuers. Jourdain, please divide the teams appropriately. Professor
Neumann and Reinald, you will devise the time and place to transport
the two teams through the vortex to where they must go. Now, if we can
just get in touch with Mulder, everything will be ready."

---------------------------
End Chpt 4 Part A
---------------------------

Chapter 4 Part B

Two days later the breakthough was made. Reinald was sitting
before the Oracle Cloud, arms raised in a spell-chant which he hoped
would strengthen the power of the orb, when its murky vapors began to
swirl, then coalesce into a human form. The details of that form
became sharper with the passage of every second. And the form was
speaking.
"...I know, love, I know. But it's okay. It was just..."
"Mage Mulder...Mage Mulder can you hear me?" Reinald cried
aloud, trying to bring the contact into closer focus. He could hear
Scully's voice calling Mulder's name, then Mulder answering.
"I think... Scully, where did you put that oracle cloud?"
"In the box on the dresser, why?" Even faint as it was, Reinald
could hear the worry in her voice.
"What if Reinald really is trying to contact me?" That was
Mulder's voice again, slowly coming clearer as he spoke. "That would
explain everything, the dizzy spells, why the oracle cloud is
responding so strongly....Get the crystal Scully...hurry!" Reinald
watched anxiously, then gasped, throwing up an arm to protect his eyes,
as the large oracle cloud flared up into brilliant light. Reinald
slowly lowered his hand, then gazed with triumph at the face fully
resolved in the crystal.
"Mulder...Mulder..." he called again.
"Wh-- ? R-Reinald? Is that you? Scully, did you hear that?"
At the sound of Reinald's voice, faint though it had been, Mulder's
mage training came back with a rush. He focused his thoughts, went
through the routine of grounding and shielding. Holding the miniature
oracle cloud up so that both he and Scully could see it, he was amazed
to see Reinald's figure take shape in the center of the crystal.
"Mage Mulder...ah, I see Scully is with you, excellent. I'm
afraid I must apologize. Evidently, communication between our two
worlds has lost none of its nastier side effects. I have been trying
to reach you for many days. I hope you have not been too sickened by
it."
"No, I'm the one that's sorry, Reinald, I should have put it all
together sooner than I did. I was wearing the cloud on a chain around
my neck, but it started irritating me lately, finally burning my skin,
so I took it off. At the same time I was having these dizzy spells -
well, I feel pretty stupid now for not adding it up."
"Is something wrong, Reinald?" Scully asked. "I have been
having the strangest thoughts of the Realm recently, and some
frightening dreams."
"As intuitive as ever, I see. Corvay will be proud. I'll pass
this along to him. Yes, there has been a problem. As I'm sure you
know, Professor Neumann came through to our world."
Mulder and Scully nodded.
"Andalor was always captivated by his tales of your world, and he
has been chafing a bit lately under his mantle of responsibility.
Using the Professor's and my experiments with the vortex, he has run
away to your world. I don't suppose you've heard from him by any
chance?"
Mulder looked at Scully. "I'm afraid not, Reinald. Look, what
can we do? Do you know where he is?"
"The Professor believes he is in a land called Cambridge, and
either has already arrived, which is most likely, or will be arriving
shortly - the timeframe is only accurate to within a few days,
apparently. He has grown up quite a bit since you last saw him,
Mulder. He is now almost ready for his coronation - if we can find him
and persuade him to come back here. We are sending through a rescue
party - well, two really. The Professor and Tarnor and myself will
make up one team, and Aldara and Jourdain will make up another."
"Tarnor? Reinald, do you think that's wise? He's not exactly
going to blend in very well here, you know," Scully reminded him.
"Well, he would not be my first choice either, my dear, but
Daanna has foreseen it, so we are listening to a higher voice here."
"Daanna, who's Daanna?" Mulder queried. "And where and when will
these teams be arriving?"
"As to Daanna, that's not important at the moment. Hopefully
there will be plenty of time for exchanging news later. As to your
second question - we hope to arrive within a few days. We are aiming
for Cambridge, but the Professor informs us he can assure vortex
accuracy for either time or place, and we have opted for time. So we
have what the Professor calls a 2000 kilometer margin of error."
"Jesus, Reinald, you could end up in the goddamn Atlantic Ocean!"
Mulder ran a hand through his hair distractedly, then sighed. "All
right, assuming you don't end up in the ocean or in a Scranton smelting
furnace or any of millions of other unpleasant places - what's your
plan?"
"First, the two teams will meet up, and then begin to search for
Andalor. When we find him, we must convince him to come back to the
Realm. Then we attempt to go back. We had hoped that you would be
able to lend us your assistance in finding Andalor."
"Of course, Reinald, you know we're happy to help. You may need
assistance in a few other things too. Look, write down this number."
Mulder gave him his cellular phone number. "When you get here, call
that number. Have the Professor teach you about how to make a collect
telephone call, do you have that? A collect telephone call. It's very
important. Scully and I have some time off right now. Just call us
and we'll come and get you. Once we are all together, then we will go
find Andalor."
"All right, Mage Mulder. Is there anything else?"
"Cast a language spell for everyone. You might put Lita to work
making some clothing that won't be as - um - eccentric here as robes.
Ask the Professor to describe to her what you need."
"Easily done, Mage Mulder. If it were not for the upsetting
reason for this expedition, Mulder, this would be a very happy
occasion. You both have been missed greatly."
"We've been missing the Realm, too, Reinald," said Scully. "It
will be wonderful to see everyone again. Please pass my thoughts on to
Aldara and Corvay, will you?"
"Assuredly, my dear. Now is there anything else I must know?"
Mulder laughed. "Reinald, we haven't even begun to scratch the
surface. We'll see what we can do when you get here. Just call us
first thing, okay?"
"All right, Mage Mulder - see you in a few days. Farewell."
"And you, Reinald," Mulder smiled. Suddenly an expression of
alarm crossed his face. "Oh, and Reinald - for God's sake keep Tarnor
out of sight!"
The Mage chuckled. "Yes, the Professor has been quite clear on
that, thank you, Mulder." With that, he brought his arms together and
closed his palms over the orb.
The images became cloudy, then disappeared in a swirl of vapor.
Reinald stood motionless for some time, trying to absorb what he
had just seen. Certainly it was wonderful to talk to Mage Mulder and
his bondmate Scully, especially after so long a time. The younger mage
had changed somewhat since his departure - he had shorter hair and was
quite a bit paler; in fact he looked much as he did when he had first
arrived in the Realm. Reinald had only a vague awareness of Mulder's
surroundings from the Oracle Cloud, but that little bit had been enough
for him to realize what a very different world Mulder inhabited - a
world that Andalor now shared, and which he was destined to experience
himself shortly. How could he possibly prepare the rescuers adequately
for such an alien land?
"Excuse me. Reinald?" The Professor was standing near his side.
"Sorry. I knocked and couldn't get an answer, but I heard you
speaking. I thought I heard Mulder's voice. Have you succeeded in
getting through to him?"
Wearily, the Mage crossed from the table to the armchairs by the
fireplace, sat, and motioned for the Professor to join him. "I know I
am growing older when such a simple thing as gazing into the Oracle
Cloud causes me such fatigue," he said. "Yes, Professor, that was
Mulder, and he will be ready to help us when we arrive. And he gave
you a task - you must teach us all about making "a collect telephone
call".
Neumann chuckled. "With pleasure, Reinald. I have, subject to
your approval, made calculations for creating the two vortexes in three
days' time. Will that be sufficient for everyone's preparations?"
"Three days." The Mage looked around him. "I find myself
appreciating my surroundings more and more. I caught just a glimpse, a
flavor, of Mulder's world and I don't mind telling you, Gunther, it
frightened me. How is Andalor faring in such a place?
"It's a strange world you're headed to, Reinald, I won't lie to
you. Try to trust in Daanna's vision - she saw us all there, and
Andalor with us and apparently healthy," the Professor said gently.
The Mage smiled. "Thank you, my friend. Three days. Very well,
I shall be ready."

- - - - -

It was a small and solemn group which gathered three days later
in the pre-dawn gloom in a clearing some distance from Fairwoods Keep.
The location had been chosen for its remoteness. Neither Reinald nor
Neumann wanted to see any accidents nor did they wish to panic anyone
in the castle or its neighborhood with the creation of the vortexes.
In the center of the field was a roaring fire over which cauldrons were
hung, surrounded by a mass of jars, metal boxes and wires. The members
of the rescue team were dressed in the boots and the flowing white
linen shirt native to the Realm, combined with the loose pants and
lightweight jackets Lita had made to the Professor's specifications.
Reluctantly, Jourdain and Aldara had left their swords at home when
told by Neumann that such items were not generally worn in the other
world. Both warriors, however, had more than one dagger strapped to
their extremities.
Prince Mavor was in attendance along with several retainers. The
elven prince was under no illusions about the enormity of his task. He
had arrived with his entourage late the previous night, having heard
all the rumors and gossip concerning Prince Andalor and the fate of the
Realm at every rest stop during his journey. He was also aware of the
machinations of the noble houses. As always, the houses of Dordinal,
Maalfees and Ranfaus were stirring the pot, each trying to gain power
and advance its interests. Mavor's thoughts would have been consumed
by the noble houses and their plots, were it not for the tiny child
standing some little distance away.
Daanna had arrived with her parents and Lita a short time after
the others had convened in the field. Mavor was struck speechless by
the intensity of the child's aura - a brilliant blue at the edges,
bordering a fiery orange interior. The blue spoke of outstanding mage
talent, but the orange! Mavor had never seen anything like it, and had
no idea what the significance of the color was.
The child stood quietly, hand in hand with Lita. Daanna was very
close to the elf maidservant. When Mulder and Scully left, Lita became
Jourdain and Aldara's servant, confidante and friend. She was moving
into the little cottage in their absence to keep Daanna in familiar and
comforting surroundings. The little girl and her parents had said
their goodbyes earlier at the cottage, with a weeping Lita in the
background.
Aldara gazed once more upon her child. She had come very close
this morning to deciding to stay in the Realm. Daanna was coping
better with the impending separation than she was. It was only the
knowledge that it would upset the child more if she didn't go that had
brought her to this damp, chilly field.
Jourdain stood beside her, stolid to outward appearances, but a
riot of emotions inwardly. He felt almost a nostalgia in the
excitement of the warrior before battle, the anxiety about the new
experiences and uncertain future they were all about to face, and the
deep regret at leaving his beloved daughter. He clasped Aldara's hand
tightly, sending his strength to her.
At a discreet signal from the Mage, Lita, Daanna and the Prince
and his retinue briefly uttered their last farewells and withdrew to a
safe distance. Reinald gathered the rescuers together and tossed some
powder in the direction of the sun and the moons. He opened his arms
wide and chanted for several minutes, pronouncing the language spell.
Nodding to Jourdain and Aldara, he stepped back with the others and
left the couple in the center of a cleared area. The Professor made a
few last-minute adjustments to his equipment, then Reinald began
chanting the spell that started to make the air around them swirl. As
he chanted, arms outstretched, the volume of his voice increased, and
with it the turbulence and howling of the air. The onlookers shielded
their eyes from the dust and grass blowing around their faces. When
the howling stopped and they were able to see once again, Jourdain and
Aldara were gone. Daanna patted the hand of the sobbing Lita.
Professor Neumann made a few more adjustments, adding some liquid
from the bubbling cauldrons to several of the jars. Then he, Reinald
and Tarnor stepped to the middle of the circle. Again, the Mage
stretched out his arms and began his chant. Sooner this time, the
small maelstrom began to encircle them, obscuring them from sight,
until suddenly the field became deathly quiet and they were gone.

End of chapter 4

THE RUNAWAY
The Magician - Book Two
An X-Files Fantasy by
Jennifer Lyon (jennyann@ix.netcom.com) and
Suzanne Bickerstaffe (Ecksphile@AOL.com)

Chapter Five Part A

Eyes shut tight, Aldara didn't see the ground rise up and hit
her, but the impact shook her entire body. Her elbow collided first,
then knees and hips, chest and face. Groaning in misery, her stomach
roiling in response to the violent tumbling through the storm of the
vortex, she lay still for a moment, gratified to be on solid earth
again. After a few breathless moments, she stirred, cautiously opening
her eyes and drawing in the deep rich smells that surrounded her.
"MOOOOO!" a deep braying sound came from directly above her
head, and she rolled over to find herself staring into the soulful
lipid eyes of an unfamiliar animal. It had a long face ending in a big
nose above a thick-lipped mouth. Its heavy body stood on four legs,
stomach low to the ground, feet hoofed somewhat like a forest goat.
Giving its mournful bray again, it shook its head slightly, and licked
at its lips with a big flat tongue.
Aldara slowly pushed herself backwards away from the creature,
never taking her eyes off its face. It looked harmless enough, but she
was not in any position to take chances. Luckily, the animal didn't
respond to her movements, merely stood watching her almost
reproachfully as she crawled away. Just as she felt she was far enough
away from it to get to her feet, a sudden yell sounded from behind her.
"By the gods!!!!" Relieved to hear Jourdain's voice, Aldara
turned to see him crouching on the ground, his knees and hands covered
with an easily recognizable, highly pungent, brown material. The
remainder of the pile he had landed in was buzzing with insects, some
of which now turned their attention to the furious man. As he swatted
at them angrily, Aldara felt the corners of her mouth turn upwards in a
smile. Then the animal behind her sounded off again, "MOOOOO!" and
Aldara started to laugh.
At the lilting sound of her amusement, Jourdain got the rest of
the way to his feet, his face contorted into a heavy-browed scowl.
That look on a man so big was a frightening sight, at least to anyone
but his fearless wife. But she did try to stifle the giggles, and
walked over to him, carefully eyeing the ground beneath her feet.
Loosening the pack strapped tightly to her shoulders, she withdrew a
cloth and handed it to him.
"Here," she said, her nose crinkling up at the awful smell. He
glowered at her, but accepted the cloth and began trying to remove the
worst of the animal dung from his clothes and hands. While he busied
himself with the necessary chore, Aldara took the time to examine their
surroundings. To her relief there didn't seem to be anything out of
the ordinary, if you could accept the odd-looking animal as some sort
of herd beast. There had to be at least two dozen of them wandering
around the field, most a dull brown color, some with patches of black
and white on their bodies.
Aldara soon noted the presence of a fence lining the field,
beyond which were some woods and a small creek. In a different
direction, she could see a grain field, and rolling green hills
stretching out into the distance. To her left she could barely make
out the shape of a building, too far away to see clearly. They had
obviously landed on farmland, and that information was comforting.
Where there were tended fields, there had to be people, and in her
experience, while farmers were hardly the most exciting people, they
were usually friendly.
Re-hoisting her pack, Aldara turned back to her husband, who was
still growling his displeasure. "Come on, there's a stream across the
fence. Let's get you cleaned up there, then try to find the farmer who
owns this land. We'll need to get his help to contact Mage Mulder and
Scully."
Jourdain nodded. Staring at the besmirched cloth in his hand, he
crumpled it into his huge fist, then stomped off after his petite wife,
glaring angrily at the herd beasts who watched their passing with
unconcerned eyes.
- - - - -

Jourdain felt a lot better after he had had a chance to wash
himself off, though he couldn't quite seem to get rid of the stench of
the beast manure. Aldara had washed off her hands and face, then moved
to stand sentry on the bank of the stream. Her eyes kept returning to
the fence they had climbed, studying it with a mixture of curiosity and
worry. It was made of a metal she did not recognize; smooth and gray
in color, it was hard to the touch and wrought with incredible
workmanship. Who would put so much effort into crafting a barrier to
pen herd animals? It didn't make any sense.
"We'd better get going," Jourdain interrupted her thoughts, his
eyes turned towards the sky. It was a clear familiar blue, with bright
sunlight filtering down through whisps of white clouds. The similarity
to their own home was eerie, if it hadn't been for the fence and the
animals, he'd have thought that Reinald and the Professor had failed,
and they were still in the Realm.
Aldara nodded her agreement, looking around her warily. "Which
way?"
"Back across the field," Jourdain replied unhappily. He had no
desire to go back into the enclosure with the foreign creatures, but it
was the most direct route towards the building Aldara had seen in the
distance. Her half-elven eyes were far more acute than his old human
ones, and he trusted her to lead them in the right direction.
Together, they clambered back over the fence, and started across
the field.
- - - - -

Half-way across the grain field, Jourdain could begin to see the
shape of the dwelling in the distance. The sun was slowly setting
behind it, the sky streaked with layers of red and orange clouds. The
building itself gave off a soft pink glow, though that was probably a
simple reflection of the light. His boots sinking down into the damp
soil with every step, Jourdain stumbled along after his defter, quicker
wife, wishing for a simple gravel road or dirt path.
Unfortunately in this world, the roads weren't quite so ordinary,
at least to the eyes of the Realm travelers. Rising up ahead of them
was a short incline the top of which shimmered in the dying light. An
unsteady rumble grew in their ears as they approached it, both shading
their eyes from the setting sun. Sudden flashes of light flew along
the length of the small hill, accompanied by the sound of thunder. But
the sky was clear, the clouds few and scattered, causing Aldara to face
the obstacle ahead with suspicion.
As they came closer to the edge of the incline, the fast-moving
colors resolved into strange box-like creatures with huge glowing eyes
set low on their front. Their legs an indistinguishable blur beneath
squat bodies, they emitted horrific sounds as they raced by at
unbelievable speeds. Aldara and Jourdain crawled up the small hill
cautiously, both wrinkling their noses at the awful smell that emanated
from the beasts. It was reminiscent of burning metal mixed with the
smell of the Hytouk swamp.
Close to the top, Jourdain motioned to Aldara to stay back, while
he slowly edged forward into the small ditch on the edge of the road
surface. Grateful none of the weird creatures were running past, he
took a few moments to stare at the black surface in amazement. It
appeared to be made of melted rock, and reminded the well-traveled
soldier of the rock flows along the edges of the fire-mountain that
marked the far end of the Border between Fairwood and its neighbor to
the south. Yet, this was clearly contained and ordered, running in a
straight line in both directions. Kneeling down on the edge of the
black surface, he stretched out a tentative finger to touch it.
A roaring sound split the silence of the dusk, and Jourdain
darted backwards. He had barely scrambled down to join Aldara in
safety when three more of the creatures flew past. Close up, they were
even more frightening, seeming to run on small black circles rather
than legs, with smoke belching out of their backs.
"We've got to get across to the house," Aldara said, unable to
keep her voice from trembling. Then, fighting down the fear, she drew
in her shoulders and stared grimly at the strange road with
determination.
Jourdain looked at her, his eyes full of pride. No man could
ever have wished for a braver woman to walk by his side. He would
never fail to thank the gods for her every day of his life. A life
that was unfortunately looking like it might come to a sudden
unpleasant halt. But the man who had led armies against the Dark
Forces was not about to give up now. He nodded his agreement, then led
the way up to the roadside.
"They don't seem to come by at any reasonable pattern, but at
least we can hear them before we see them," he said.
Aldara nodded. "On this side, they come from the left, on the
other side, they come from the right." As if in confirmation of her
statement, two more of the monsters rumbled past on the far side.
"We'll take it halfway at a time, as soon as this side is clear,
we run for the grass in the middle." Jourdain ordered. Aldara agreed,
her thin elven features tightening as she gazed down the black strip
with brilliant green eyes.
They waited until two more of the smelly beings raced by, then
Jourdain took Aldara's hand, squeezed it, then pulled her after him
across the black rock. Their hearts pounded in their chests as they
ran faster than either had ever run in their lives, the wind whipping
at Aldara's mane of black curls. Finally, they collapsed forward into
the small strip of grass in the middle, drawing their feet up under
them instinctively. Turning over, Aldara shuddered as another bright
red creature thundered past, merely a few breaths after they had made
it across.
Jourdain caught his wife's shiver, and reached out to draw her
into his arms. Unhesitantly trusting him with her fear, she clung to
him, burying her face into his shoulder. He rubbed his chin on the top
of her head, then leaned further down to kiss her forehead. She tilted
her head up and gave him a tremulous smile. "Halfway there," she
whispered. He returned the smile, then looked over her head to scowl
at the remaining few feet of the dangerous pathway.
They helped each other up, then re-secured their packs across
their shoulders. Then stepping to the edge of the grass, they stood
poised, waiting for the right moment to run. When it came, they didn't
hesitate - feet flying, they were across it and tumbling down the
incline on the other side in seconds. They landed in a grass-covered
heap at the bottom of the hill, both laughing in sheer relief and
exhilaration. Wrapping her arms around her husband's broad shoulders,
Aldara kissed him soundly. He scooped her up into his arms and hugged
her tight.
After a few long, precious moments of recovery, they picked
themselves up and turned towards the dwelling. Made of white-painted
wood, it was nestled against the side of a larger red building, between
which stretched a smaller version of the strange roadway they had just
crossed. A few trees and bushes decorated the land around it, and the
recognizable shape of a water well was resting close by. Another
object was sitting on the roadway in front of the house, a squat blue
object on black wheels with a blank face and huge dim eyes. Staring at
it with wide-eyes, Aldara and Jourdain finally realized that it was a
quiescent version of the thunder beasts.
As they slowly approached the house, Jourdain and Aldara both
eased knives into the palms of their hands, neither taking their eyes
off the unmoving beast. But it remained still and silent, unresponsive
to their stealthy approach. By the time they got within a few feet of
the house, Aldara was growing braver and angrier, unwilling to be cowed
by the strange creature. Jourdain only caught the edge of the glimmer
in her eyes before she took off, charging the unresponsive monster with
a brandished knife.
"Aldara, NO!!!!" he cried, but she was already striking out with
her knife. As he ran to try to catch up with his fleeter wife,
Jourdain heard the screech of the blade on the monster's skin. His
heart nearly choked his throat, as he saw her strike it again and
again. But to both their surprise it did not respond to her attack.
Jourdain skidded to a halt by her side, reaching out to grab her hand
as she swiped down at the creature's side yet again.
"Jourdain!" she yelled, twisting in his grasp, but he held her
firmly.
"Do you want to get us killed?" he shouted, trying to drag her
away from the monster before it woke up and had them both for dinner.
"Put me DOWN!" she yelled. He stared fiercely into her
unrepentant eyes, then set her down on her feet, still holding both her
hands firmly. Pushing her behind him, he eyed the unmoving thing
warily. Not sure what to do, he settled for politeness. Bowing his
head to it, he spoke as diplomatically as he knew how. "I apologize
for my wife's unthinking attack. She was simply frightened. We are
travellers from a far land and have never met any of your kind before."
By the time he had finished his speech, Aldara had stopped
struggling and was beginning to giggle.
Jourdain turned and glared at her. She drew in a deep breath, a
laugh turning into a hiccup. "J...Jourdain, I don't think its alive."
"What? But?" He stared at the thing. "Do you think its a dead
one?"
"I think that maybe they aren't alive at all," she replied.
"Look, there are little chairs inside." Jourdain released her hands
and edged a little closer, until he was staring into the inside of the
thing. She was right, there were chairs inside it. In fact, he'd
never seen anything quite like it. Aldara stepped up beside him, and
reached out with to tap it with her knuckles. "It is some kind of
fancy decorated wagon. Looks like it is made of painted metal."
"But how does it go so fast?" Jourdain argued. "The ones on the
road had no animals pulling or pushing them."
"Must be magic," Aldara answered matter-of-factly, although her
stomach was turning upside down. To have enough magic to make, much
less run, one of these things - it was shocking. The only person she'd
met who might have that kind of power was Mulder, but then this was his
world. She suddenly wondered if everyone here had that kind of power,
and that idea made her knees turn to jelly.
"I think we'd better try to make that teeleefun kall that the
Professor said could reach Mulder and Scully."
Jourdain couldn't agree more. Watching the strange object
doubtfully, still not convinced it wouldn't wake up and try to eat
them, he looked towards the house. "I wonder if someone is home?"
- - - - -

Katherine Dybdahl was busy canning vegetables in the kitchen when
she heard some loud noises outside, first what sounded like a scream
and then a series of screeches that made the hair on the back of her
neck stand on end. Wiping her palms off on the towel, she took hold of
a long kitchen knife. Pressing the blade down along her side, handle
clasped in her right hand, she walked cautiously towards the open
window.
Brushing the thin, white-lace drapes aside, she peered out into
the front yard, only to see a big man bowing towards her station wagon,
with a tiny woman clutched against his side. Katherine watched in
surprise as the two strangers spoke to each other, then moved forward
to cautiously tap at her car as though they had never seen one before.
The man gazed in through the driver's window, then straightened up and
looked towards the house. Katherine slid sideways from the window,
praying that he hadn't seen her.
<Knock knock knock> came a banging on the front door. Katherine
paused, uncertain of whether to pretend she wasn't home, or to take a
chance on opening the door to the weird couple. Finally, feeling
secure within her own home, her curiosity got the better of her and she
hurried into the front hallway.
Sliding the knife into the pocket of her apron, Katherine opened
the door and came face to face with one of the biggest men and smallest
women she had ever met. Easily over six feet tall, the man had wide
shoulders and massive arms. His eyes were a clear blue under thick
sandy eyebrows, and his face craggy, but spare, devoid of fat, the skin
drawn taught over massive bones. He should have been menacing, but
there was a solidity to him that reminded her of her own father, and
she quickly noticed that he had rough calluses on his palms and
fingers, the sign of a man who works with his hands.
The woman was dwarfed by him, yet she seemed to be the more
dominant personality. Less than five-feet tall, she had a mass of hair
that was tied off her forehead with an engraved metal clasp to fall
down her shoulders in a thick cascade of raven-colored curls. Her
green eyes were extraordinarily large and brilliant within a thin,
pointed face. Like her companion she was dressed in cool cotton
clothes that had a certain old-world feel to them. Their feet were
encased in leather boots, and both wore flowing linen shirts,
originally white, now stained with grass and dirt. Or perhaps more
than dirt, if Katherine's nostrils were correct.
"Hello?" Katherine said, uncomfortably aware that the two
strangers were returning her scrutiny in full force.
The man bowed his head, and spoke in English thick with an
unrecognizable accent. "Lady, we are sorry to disturb you, but we are
travellers from a distant land. We would request of your hospitality a
drink of water and the use of your..." here he stumbled, as though
searching for an unfamiliar word, "...teelefoon. We need to make a
kallak kall."
It took Katherine a moment, then his accented words clicked into
sense. "A collect call," she repeated. He nodded and essayed a
tentative grin. It brightened up his entire face, and Katherine
suddenly felt herself warming to this odd pair. There was something
trustworthy about this man, and the woman looked hardly threatening at
her size.
"Unh...sure, why not," she found herself replying. "Why don't
you come into the kitchen. There's a phone in there, and I've got some
ice water in the fridge."

End Chapter Five Part A

Chapter Five Part B

Aldara and Jourdain followed the woman into her house, not quite
making sense of all her words. But they were both extremely thirsty
and very anxious to reach Mulder and Scully. Aldara's eyes darted from
one unusual object to another, some things were familiar, others were
beyond strange. And the kitchen was a mixture of a woman's dreams and
her nightmares. There was a lot of space and an extraordinary
collection of finely crafted knives and utensils. Aldara's fingers
itched to go exploring.
The woman led them into the center of the room, then pointed out
an object on the table. "There's the phone, just dial "0" to get the
operator." Then she turned to one of the cabinets and drew out cups
made of some brightly painted material that Aldara couldn't quite
identify.
The woman's words made some slight sense to Jourdain, having been
drilled by the Professor on what to do when he found this 'telephone'
thing. Gingerly he picked up the top part, the loose piece that
looked rather like two muffins melded together. Holding it up to his
ear, he eyed the set of white buttons with symbols engraved on them.
Jourdain's reading ability was minimal, even with the overlay of the
language spell, so he had difficulties identifying the characters.
However, the procedure had been hammered into his head. Reaching out
cautiously, he poked at the one with a small oval on the top.
"BEEP" sounded in his ear, and he jerked back, looking at the
object in his hand with wary eyes. When it did nothing more, he
slowly put it back against his ear, just in time to hear a woman's
voice say "aay tee and tee, may I help you."
Okay, this was what was supposed to happen. Clearing his throat
he repeated the Professor's words. "I would like to make a kuhllect
kall."
"Your name please," responded the voice in his ear.
"Jjjj...Jourdain," he said.
"Number please," the disembodied voice continued woodenly.
This, too, he knew. "202-555-8957"
"One moment please..." Then there was silence in his ear.
Jourdain looked up to see the woman handing Aldara a bright blue cup,
then placed another on the table beside Jourdain. He nodded his
thanks. Aldara stared at the odd goblet in her hands, then slowly
raised it to her lips. She sighed as she tasted the cold clear water,
drawing down a couple deep swallows. Then she lowered it from her lips
and began to examine the glass itself.
Just as Aldara was about to ask what the cup was crafted of, a
bell-like sound erupted in Jourdain's ear. It rang three times, then
clicked, and a very familiar voice spoke a very familiar name.
"Mulder."
"Mage Mulder!" Jourdain cried out with joy and astonishment, but
he was interrupted by the voice of the telephone. "Will you accept a
collect call from Jourdain?"
"Yes, Yes," that was Mulder's voice again, his tone rising.
"Jourdain is that you?"
"Yes, Mage Mulder, it is Jourdain." Jourdain waved his hand at
Aldara, and she flew over to his side. He lowered the telephone
object, stooping over in the hope that they could both hear and speak
at once.
"Jourdain... I don't believe it! Where are you?"
"I..." Jourdain frowned. "On a farm somewhere near a big road."
"Just a minute..." Mulder's voice was distracted, and Jourdain
soon heard him yelling at a distance. "Scully, Scully, get in here!
I've got Jourdain on the phone!"
"Jourdain, who is with you? Are you alone?"
"No, Aldara is with me, Reinald, Tarnor and the Professor went
through separately from us," the soldier replied. Again, he could
hear Mulder speaking to Scully, echoing his words. Then Mulder's voice
came through strong and clear.
"OK, we need to figure out exactly where you and Aldara are, so
that Scully can come bring you here. You said you were on a farm, is
there someone you can ask for the location."
Jourdain nodded, then belatedly realized that Mulder couldn't see
him. At least he didn't THINK the Mage could see him. "Yes," he
said, then he turned to the woman.
"Lady, can you tell me where we are?" She looked at him in
surprise, but shrugged her shoulders and answered calmly. "We're just
outside of Oconomowoc."
"Okkoonomo....?" Jourdain repeated, frowning. The woman smiled
and said it again more slowly. "Oconomowoc."
This time Jourdain almost got it right, but Mulder was still
unable to decipher the name. "Jourdain, ask the person you are talking
to if I could speak to her." Jourdain nodded again.
"Lady, my friend would like to speak to you." He held out the
phone over Aldara's head.
Katherine took it and put the receiver to her ear. "Hello?"
"Ma'am," Mulder said, his mind racing as he tried to find the
right words. "My name is Fox Mulder."
"Katherine Dybdahl," she replied.
"Nice to meet you, Ms. Dybdahl. I'm sorry to inconvenience you,
but my friends are visiting from a foreign country, and their English
is not too good. I think they've gotten a bit lost, and I'd like to
send someone to pick them up and bring them back to Washington. Can
you tell me where you are?"
"Washington?" Katherine said in surprise. "We're in Wisconsin.
My farm is just on the outskirts of Oconomowoc, approximately halfway
between Milwaukee and Madison."
"Wisconsin?!" Mulder replied. "Good heavens. Can you hold on
for a moment?" Katherine could hear a whispered discussion in the
background, then the man's velvety voice was back on the line.
"Is there a motel or something close by at which my friends could
stay for tonight?"
Katherine thought for a moment. "Yes, there's a Red Roof Inn
about four miles away to the East, and Lacey's Bed and Breakfast is
about one and half miles to the West."
"Would you mind looking up the phone number for me for the B&B?
I'd be very much in your debt."
"Sure," Katherine replied, her mind running over with questions
that she just barely held in. Who were these people? But she bit her
tongue and simply handed the phone back to the big man.
"Mulder?" Jourdain asked, having only caught half of the
conversation.
"Scully is going to come find you," Mulder told him. "But it is
going to take her a while to get there. She has a long distance to
come. I thought it would be a good idea if you went to a mo...an inn
for the night."
Jourdain agreed that was a good idea. Then another thought
struck Mulder. "Unh...Jourdain, I don't suppose that the Professor
gave you any money - I mean coinage?"
"Yes," Jourdain was pleased to say. "He had some in his pocket
when he came to the Realm, and Reinald was able to copy it. So we have
a lot of the green paper, and a few of the silver coins."
"Good - I think," Mulder sounded slightly rueful, then he
laughed. "OK, it'll have to do.
- - - - -

Mulder put down the phone and turned to Scully, his hazel eyes
glittering. "That was amazing! Even after the contact with Reinald, I
didn't quite believe..."
Scully laughed. "YOU - didn't believe?" Her voice lilted with
apparent shock, a copper eyebrow lifting in time.
Mulder tilted his head at her, then grinned. "Hey, even I have
my moments of doubt. But this is for real. Even speaking English, I'd
recognize Jourdain's voice anywhere."
Scully smiled gently as her own memories flooded back. "He does
have a distinctive grumble. It will be good to see them again, though
I worry a bit about the effect this world will have on them."
Frowning, Mulder rubbed at his chin. He settled his lanky frame
down on the edge of the bed, and turned to look up at her. "Yeah - but
they're pretty tough. Anyone who fought the Dark creatures and won is
made of stern stuff. I think they'll take it in stride. The one I'm
worried about is Andalor." His eyes darkened.
Scully sat down beside him, easily feeling his mood change.
"We'll find him. Maybe he'll even find us. If he IS here in this
world, he'll try to contact us - or at least you. I know how fond he
was of you." The moment the words left her mouth, she regretted them.
Still laying recumbent on the bed, Mulder's entire body tensed, his
fingers curling reflexively into a fist, then jerking open.
//Mulder, this is not your fault.\\ She deliberately sent the
thought through their bond link, combining it with a flood of
reassuring certainty. //Andalor is old enough to know better. He
caused this mess deliberately.\\
//Maybe.\\ Mulder's response was doubtful, pain etched across
his finely-drawn features.
"No maybes about it." This time Scully spoke aloud. She knew
his fears for Andalor brought back the pain of his sister's
disappearance, and the sense of self-blame was deeply ingrained. Not
for the first time, Scully wished Bill Mulder was still alive so that
she could have her chance to give him a thorough reaming for the
lifetime of pain inflicted on his son. But that was not productive,
for now the best thing to do was move forward. Above all, Mulder
needed to feel he was doing something to help find the missing boy.
Maybe success in this would help him deal with his inability to rescue
Samantha. Maybe...
"You'd better call the airport and make the reservations, then
call this Bed and Breakfast place." Scully spoke briskly, trying to
distract him. "It might be a good idea if you paid for Jourdain and
Aldara's room by credit card. I know Reinald copied the Professor's
money, but I'm almost afraid to see the results. The last thing we
need is to have them arrested for counterfeiting!"
"That's for sure," Mulder agreed, some humor returning to his
eyes. He reached for the phone as she walked towards the closet. She
pulled down a small suitcase from the back and tossed it over onto the
bed, then quickly threw a few necessities into it while he attempted to
negotiate with the airlines. After a long argument, he finally hung up
the phone with a rueful grimace and flopped across the bed. Cradling
his head in his hands, he stared at the ceiling. "You're booked on the
7pm flight to Milwaukee with a stop in Detroit. You should get to
Mitchell Field by about 11:30pm. The best I could do on the return was
8:30am tomorrow."
"Sounds fine." Scully closed up the suitcase, then sat down
beside him. "This wasn't exactly how I had intended to spend our
vacation."
"I know love," Mulder replied, reaching out to tenderly sweep a
loose red curl off her cheek. "But it will be good to see our friends
again."
Scully smiled. She was excited to see Aldara and Jourdain again.
She'd missed them all, especially her half-elven sword master, even
more than she had realized. Leaning over, she kissed him swiftly, then
got to her feet. "You'd better make the room reservations and I have
to get to the airport. Call me when you hear from Reinald and the
Professor."
"I will," Mulder promised, wriggling up to a sitting position
reluctantly. Rising to his feet, he followed her to the door. After
she had picked up her purse and checked to make sure she had her gun,
badge, and cellular phone, he caught her from behind. Wrapping his
arms around her waist, he squeezed her tightly. "Be careful and give
my best to A & J."
She laughed, twisting in his embrace until her chin was resting
on his chest. "I will. See you tomorrow."
He kissed her once, twice, then reluctantly let her go. She
swung up her suitcase, stepped out the door, and was gone.
- - - - -

Neither Jourdain nor Aldara could sleep. They lay together on
the big soft bed, staring at the odd ceiling lamp. As far as they
could tell the light was magically generated, controlled by the small
knob in the wall by the door. When the innkeeper had brought them to
their room, he had pressed the knob up and the lights had turned on
instantly. After the man had left them, Aldara had spent several long
minutes turning the lights on and off, flicking the knob up and down
with amazed delight.
Jourdain's first interest had been the washroom, and though it
took him a while to figure out how the water pump worked, he had been
truly pleased when his efforts were finally rewarded with a flow of hot
water. Aldara had soon joined him, and they had luxuriated in a long
hot bath together. Feeling refreshed, they had dined on the cheese and
bread from their packs, then settled down to a more serious exploration
of the room. That pursuit had kept them occupied for a couple
candlemarks, but exhaustion had slowly crept up on them.
Unfortunately, sleep had not been so kind. They lay awake, talking in
spurts, often drifting off into a comfortable silence.
"This is a strange world," Jourdain whispered against Aldara's
hair. Curled up against his side, she murmured her agreement, then
they both lay silent again.
"Jourdain?" Aldara tipped her head up, then moved over to rest
on his broad chest.
"Yes." He rumbled, pressing a big callused hand into the small
of her back.
"Do you think Andalor is all right?" Aldara's shiny emerald eyes
were full of worry. "He must be terrified."
Jourdain laughed, a deep rumbling in his throat. "He is probably
having the time of his life." At Aldara's reproachful look, he pulled
up to a half-sitting position, then drew her into his lap. "Boys of
that age love to explore. They think they are invincible. Danger
appears exciting. They treat it like a game of hoopballs. Sometimes,
if they are lucky, they get hurt just enough to learn from it without
dying." His craggy features turned thoughtful, while a small smile
played at the corners of his lips. "When I was Andalor's age I ran off
from home and ended up working as an apprentice Protector on a merchant
caravan. We were going across the Keffaire wasteland to trade with the
Keff nomads, linens and tools for skins and spices. It was a difficult
trek; we lost two men the first night beyond the mountains in a fight
with bandits. I almost got myself killed several times, but I learned
a lot from the experience. Andalor needs his chance to run free, he
has a lifetime of responsibility ahead of him."
Aldara could see the memories flashing before her husband's eyes,
and she smiled tenderly at him. She had done something very similar
herself, so she did understand. The problem was that Andalor was not
just any boy, he was Prince and Heir to the throne. And he had gone
much further than anyone could have imagined. "I suppose," she said
doubtfully, but she brightened as another thought occurred. "At least
he is an excellent fighter."
Jourdain smiled. "Yes. So much like his father. Did I ever
tell you about the time..."
<KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK>
Bolting upright in bed, Aldara scrambled over to grab her dagger
off of the bedside table. Jourdain slid noiselessly onto the floor,
and came around the bed towards the door. Graceful as a cat, Aldara
took up a position on the opposite side of the doorway, then signaled
Jourdain that she was ready. Cautiously he opened the door.
------------------
End Chpt5 Part B
------------------

=====================================================================
======

Chapter Five Part C

The yellow light from the hallway streamed in around the small
figure standing erect within the door frame, making a bright golden
halo of her fiery hair. At the sight of the big man standing warily in
front of her, her face lit up into a brilliant smile. A smile that
only grew when he picked her up off her feet and swung her around.
Scully laughed and returned Jourdain's bear-hug with unaffected
pleasure, though she gasped a bit for breath when he squeezed her
tight. "Easy Jourdain," she told him, taking hold of the tops of his
massive arms as he finally put her feet back down on the floor. Her
hair slid across her shoulders in a riot of color, as she leaned her
head back to stare up into his face.
He was definitely older, Scully thought, the realization shocking
her despite her intellectual knowledge that several years had passed in
the Realm relative to the several months here on Earth. Still it was a
shock to see the gray streaks in his blond hair and the lines drawn
tight around his eyes. But a longer look at his face let her see all
the things that hadn't changed, from the clarity of his blue eyes to
the sense of easy strength and earthiness he carried with him.
Jourdain had always been the one closest to her in temperament, and she
found his presence as comforting as ever.
Before either could speak again, a much smaller figure bounded
out from behind the dresser to the left shouting, "Scully!"
"Aldara!" The two women were soon caught up in a joyful, tearful
hug, laughter rippling from them even as moisture dampened both pairs
of eyes. Pulling apart to study each other carefully, they exchanged
wide smiles.
"You've gotten too pale," Aldara said critically, the words belied by
the affection glowing in her green eyes.
"And you've gained weight," Scully returned, her voice full of
laughter. Aldara grimaced, tugging at her shirt. "Well, after the
baby was born..."
"BABY!" Scully whooped with delight. Aldara grinned with
pleasure and pride.
"Yes, Daanna is four now, talking a mile a minute, questions
about everything, full of energy..." Aldara sighed with a fake 'why
me?" air. "And Mage-gifted to boot."
"Daanna," Scully repeated, her eyes shining. "Thank you," she
said softly.
"What else could we name her?" Aldara said with equal sincerity.
"I...we...missed you so much. And Daanna - she reminded me of you
from the first moment I saw her." Scully couldn't find the words, and
settled for pulling her friend into another quick hug.
Then they parted, and Scully looked from Aldara to Jourdain. "I
missed you too, both of you. And Mulder did as well."
At the mention of Mulder, Jourdain's face focused. "Has he heard
from the Prince?"
Scully shook her head. "No, not a word. Mulder and I have
basically been waiting to hear from you and Reinald. Without even a
good recent photo of Andalor, and no idea where to start looking, there
was little we could do but wait for you."
"Photo?" Jourdain asked, frowning as the word didn't quite
communicate properly.
"Unh...painting," Scully substituted quickly, and his face
cleared up. "Yes, Andalor has grown quite a bit since you saw him
last. He's almost of age to be crowned."
Aldara suddenly clicked into gear as hostess. As foreign as this
room was, there were still protocols to be followed. "Come, let us sit
down," she said, casting her eyes around the small room. "I'm sorry
there is no fire to make tea..."
"That's ok," Scully replied, walking over to the wooden chair in
the corner. Picking it up, she moved it closer to the bed, then sat
down. Jourdain and Aldara set themselves on the edge of the mattress
facing her.
"Have you heard anything from Reinald, Tarnor and the Professor?"
Aldara asked anxiously.
Scully shook her head. "No, at least not before I left to come
here. Mulder will call me when he hears from them."
"I hope they're not hurt or lost." Aldara replied, remembering
the events of this past day with a mixture of amazement and worry.
"This is a very strange world you live in." Jourdain grunted his
agreement, causing Scully to laugh.
"Yeah, I know. Though yours was a bit of a surprise to Mulder
and me. Seeing Tarnor for the first time was quite a shock. Then we
got attacked by the soul-eaters, and I don't remember much until we
were at Fairwood castle. That whole first day still seems like a dream
even now. At the time, I knew it was real, and yet I was sure I was
dreaming."
"I feel the same way," Aldara said, staring around her with wide
eyes. "Some things are so familiar, and other things are so...odd.
And even the familiar things are different from what I'm used to."
"I know, and there are stranger things to come, I'm afraid. But
I'll do my best to guide you. Really, the differences are only on the
surface. Mulder and I quickly found that people are basically the same
no matter where you are. Some are good, some are bad, most are
somewhere in-between."
Jourdain nodded his head, recognizing good sense when he heard
it. "What happens now?" he asked, nonetheless unable to conceal his
dislike for being in a situation he could not control or even
completely understand.
Scully glanced rapidly at her wrist watch. "I think we should
try to get some sleep. We've got a long trip ahead of us tomorrow."
Her stomach tightened into a tiny ball. How were they going to react
to driving in a car, much less flying in an airplane? They were brave,
strong people, but... Taking a deep breath, she gave them as
reassuring a smile as she could and changed the subject.
"But first, tell me all about your daughter. I want details!"
she insisted.
The proud parents were delighted to oblige.

------------------------
End Chpt5 Part C
------------------------

Chapter 5 Part D

Dawn came far too soon. They had talked until almost 3am, then
caught just over an hour's worth of sleep. Scully had set her alarm
clock - which she never travelled without - for 5:30. She slammed the
clock hard, then turned over to shake Jourdain. Aldara was already
sitting up in the bed, body poised for action.
"It's ok," Scully reassured her. "It was just my alarm clock."
Aldara frowned as the words did not quite communicate. Scully sighed.
"It means that it is time to get up. We have to get on the road."
Aldara grimaced, rubbing at her weary eyes, then nodded and slid
off the bed. The other two were not far behind, and since no one had
brought much more than they could carry, were soon ready to leave.
Scully checked them out, grateful that Mulder had pre-paid the
rooms. She signed his credit card slip without too much guilt, they
had ended up only using the one room. Then herding her two friends out
into the cool pre-dawn air, she headed for the rental car.
Aldara and Jourdain followed her up to the small blue Toyota
warily, watching with wide eyes as Scully calmly opened the door, then
popped the trunk. "Put the bags in here for now," she said walking
around the car and dumping her suitcase into the back of the car.
"Is it safe?" Jourdain asked tentatively.
"Safe?" Scully grinned. "Yes, it is safe enough. Ummm...
think of this as a fancy kind of wagon."
Seeing that Scully was so relaxed, Aldara decided she was not
going to act cowardly. Pushing past her husband she carefully dropped
her pack in next to Scully's. "How does it go? Are there animals
inside? Or is it magic?"
"No, and it's not... I mean..." Scully stammered, trying to
think of a way to explain auto mechanics and utterly failing. "I guess
it is a kind of magic. Sort of." She didn't like putting it that way,
every scientific bone in her body was screaming, but it was the
simplest explanation. One they would accept.
Jourdain grunted, and gave in. He was still wary of the magic
wagon, having seen how fast they could move, but had to accept Scully's
knowledge of her own world. He added his pack to the others, then
stood back while Scully shut the trunk.
Opening the car doors, she frowned up at Jourdain. Like Mulder,
he was tall enough to be uncomfortable in the small car. Thank
goodness she had insisted on the four-door rather than the two-door
model. "Why don't you take the back seat, Jourdain. You can even lay
down if you like."
The big guardsman eyed the inside of the car unhappily for a long
moment, then taking a deep breath, lifted a foot and put it through the
door Scully was holding open for him. When it wasn't immediately
bitten off, he twisted down and forced his head and shoulders in as
well. Behind him, Scully was trying hard not to laugh, clamping her
hand down over her mouth as he hit his head on the ceiling, then
stumbled sideways.
Aldara was not quite so restrained, she started giggling openly,
which earned her a sapphire glare from the irate man after he had
finally settled himself into the car seat, half-laying across it, with
his knees bent at awkward angles. Deciding it would have to do, Scully
quickly closed the door behind him.
Aldara scrambled easily into her seat, and sat there twitching
with excitement. Her emerald eyes glittered as she ran her hands over
the soft leather of the seats and the oddly smooth material of the
dashboard. It was the same stuff as the cup the farmer woman had given
her, and of which much in their room had been made of. Amazing...
Scully got into the driver's seat, then showed Aldara how to
fasten her seatbelt. Aldara grasped tightly to the strap, holding it
across her chest, while Scully did her own. Jourdain had worked
himself into a sitting position in the back seat, and his hands were
clamped onto the back of Aldara's seat.
<CHUG CHUG ROAR> Scully turned the key in the ignition and the
engine roared into life, making both Realm travellers cry out in
surprise.
"Nothing to worry about," Scully reassured. "It's just a little
loud. But it's perfectly safe. I'm a good driver." With that, she
put the car into reverse and gently started the car moving.
In the back seat, Jourdain grit his teeth, and sent up a series
of prayers. He was not a man to be afraid of things, but he did not
like these magic wagons. They were too noisy, too fast, and too
strange. Closing his eyes, he begged the gods to let them survive.
Feeling the smoothness of the movement, Aldara lessened her grip
on the strap holding her in place, and stared around her as Scully
eased the car around and into forward motion. At first, they went
slowly, pausing at the edge of the small area in front of the inn, then
cautiously turning out onto the road. Then Scully accelerated the car,
causing Aldara to squeak, and Jourdain to tighten his grip on the seat.
As they picked up speed, but did not crash into anything, Aldara
finally found her voice. "Can anyone drive one of these things?"
Scully smiled. "Almost anyone. You have to be above a certain
age, and you have to take a test to prove you can do it safely. If you
pass the test, you get a license - a written permission - to drive."
"It must take a long time to learn."
"Not really," Scully kept the car at a steady pace of about 35
miles per hour, hoping to have them more at ease before she hit I-94.
"It is not that difficult. Rather like riding a fast horse, you just
get used to it after enough practice."
Aldara nodded, her dilated eyes still staring at the passing
landscape. Her breathing had slowed down, and her natural adventurism
was beginning to assert itself. "Does Mulder drive?"
Scully laughed. "Yes, he loves it! Too much so, he likes to
drive recklessly fast." Jourdain felt his stomach turn over, how fast
was too fast? They were already flying down the road far too quickly
for his peace of mind.
By the time Scully drove onto the big highway, Aldara was
beginning to enjoy herself, and Jourdain was becoming motion-sick.
Closing his eyes, he leaned back in his seat and squeezed his eyes shut
while Aldara gazed out the front window with delight.
"This is so much better than riding a horse! No sore muscles, and
you are protected from the rain and cold. And so much faster!"
Scully grinned at her friend. "It's not bad." Reaching over,
she switched on the tape player. Music boomed through the car, causing
Aldara to give another squeal of delight. Meanwhile, Jourdain simply
settled down into his misery, his skin turning a pasty white beneath
its tan.
- - - - -

Jourdain and Aldara sat huddled together on a bench in the middle
of the busy airport. Scully's bright head gleamed at them from a small
distance, as she waited impatiently in line at the USAir counter.
Every so often, she would turn to check on her friends, relieved to see
them sitting so quietly. She hadn't missed the discomfort on
Jourdain's face or the eager curiosity on Aldara's. It was that last
that worried her, Aldara had a tendency to be recklessly fearless, and
she was absorbing the sights and sounds of this new world with avid
delight.
Jourdain, on the other hand, felt miserable, though he was
working hard to conceal his feelings. Few things had pleased him more
than setting his feet on solid ground after the seemingly endless ride
in the strange metal wagon. But no sooner had his stomach settled,
than Scully had haltingly explained that they were about to take
another ride - this time on a huge magic bird of some sort. At least
the car had been close to the ground and had been under Scully's
obviously experienced control. The idea of trusting their safety to
some foreign magical creature was something else entirely.
The big soldier frowned, feeling a now familiar sense of being
lost rush over him. He had never lacked for self-confidence. Both his
size and skill as a fighter had always secured him a measure of respect
from those around him. He was accustomed to being in charge and having
people obey his orders. But that had been based on a world he knew
well; here, in this foreign world, he had no conception of how things
were supposed to be. And that left him feeling adrift, uncertain and
uneasy.
Jourdain squared his shoulders, glaring around him at the people
rushing about, lugging packs and bundles of all shapes and sizes. Even
the people here were different, the colors of their eyes, hair and skin
varying much more than he was accustomed to. His eyes widened as a
pair of young girls ran past - some even were as green as a ground
troll. But at least they were basically familiar. Feeling for the
knife strapped into his belt, he reminded himself that he could handle
people. Few, if any, of these strangers looked like they could fight.
In fact, most looked singularly unprepared for defending themselves.
Taking a deep breath, he glanced over at Scully, who had finally
reached the chest-high barrier and was talking expansively with the
woman dressed in an odd uniform. He was struck again by the aura of
courage and confidence that surrounded the small fiery-haired woman.
And for the first time he truly appreciated how brave both she and
Mulder had been to adjust so quickly to the Realm. For if this world
was so frightening to him, he could only imagine how his world had
appeared to them. And the growing sense of admiration he felt for his
friends was the first real comfort he'd found since arriving here the
previous day. If Scully was certain that they must ride this magical
bird, then so be it. Jourdain was not going to let her or Mage Mulder
down.
Aldara only sensed some of the thoughts running through her
husband's mind, but she knew him well enough by now to realize he was
having more difficulty adjusting to this world than she was. The small
half-elf wished there was something she could do or say to help, but
she knew that he was too proud to accept her concern. Not that he
would deliberately shut her out, he loved her too much, but he still
had a man's pride. He knew she was there by his side, and always would
be. So she bit her tongue, letting him try to find his own peace with
their situation.
Meanwhile, there was so much here to learn and explore. Aldara
had always had an adventuresome streak, though it had been muted by
marriage and the birth of her daughter. And she missed little Daanna
desperately, her arms feeling the absence of her beloved child, her
heart missing the comfort of the baby's bright smile. But another part
of her exulted in the excitement of this trip. This world was so
different, so alive, so full of curious sights and sounds and smells.
She wanted to drink it all in, to touch and explore it all.
There was an element of fear too. But that emotion merely made
the exultation headier. Scully's presence, and the knowledge that they
would soon see Mage Mulder, was all the reassurance she needed. She
trusted the other woman utterly, and Scully's easy calm in the middle
of all this apparent chaos was all the security she could have asked
for. If Scully said it was safe, then Aldara simply accepted that fact
and moved on.
Actually, Aldara couldn't take her mind off the car ride. She
had watched Scully maneuver the metal wagon at great speed with
increasing curiosity and no slight amount of envy. Too have such power
under your control, to be able to go at such speeds without fear,
Aldara tingled at the thought. It was far, far better than riding a
swift horse, even the best of the elven-raised stallions. She itched
to get a chance to try it herself, and was soon trying to figure out
how to talk Scully into teaching her. She knew they had to find
Andalor first, the Prince's safety took priority, but maybe, after he
had been found, they might have time...
"Sorry that took so long," Scully's voice interrupted both of
her friend's thoughts. "But we're all set now. I've got our tickets,
we just need to walk to the gate."
"Gate?" Jourdain questioned, he had thought they were going to
ride some big bird. A Gate sounded like a much better idea. It took
Scully a moment to figure out his response, then she shook her head.
"Not a magical gate, Jourdain. Just the place we have to go to get on
the right airplane."
"Oh," Jourdain tried to keep the disappointment out of his voice
as he got up to tower over both women.
But his reaction was covered by his wife's excitement. "I can't
believe we're actually going to fly through the air. I've watched the
falcons fly and often wondered what it would be like to glide through
the air so smoothly. Will we each get a bird, or are they big enough
to carry all three of us?" This last question was accompanied by a
darting glance at Jourdain's grim face.
Scully laughed, as she gestured towards a large staircase, then
turned to walk towards it. "It's big enough to carry all three of us
and about forty other people as well. Think of the airplane as a kind
of flying car, with giant wings."
"Forty?" Aldara gasped as she hurried after Scully. "It must be
HUGE!"
"Yes, it is," Scully said. "You'll see soon enough." Scully
caught the glimmer of unease on Jourdain's face, and she tried to
reassure him quickly. "Don't worry, though. This way of travel is
safer than driving in a car." Jourdain accepted her attempt to ease
his mind, though he found that hard to believe. But Scully seemed so
much at ease, as did everyone else hurrying down the long hallways. If
so many people could do this, then he supposed he could as well.
They weeded their way through the crowds of people, Scully
leading the way through a big room with vaulted ceilings and rows of
seats in the middle. The edges were lined with small shops, from some
of which wafted tantalizing smells. Aldara looked in the direction of
one corner stall that contained many small tables, and her stomach
growled unmercifully.
Scully threw her a sympathetic look, but her watch confirmed the
need to get to the gate. "We'll be given breakfast on the flight,"
she said, gaining a smile of appreciation from Aldara. Then the petite
red-haired woman pulled to an abrupt halt, her lovely features settling
into a slight frown.
"What's wrong?" Jourdain asked anxiously. Scully turned and
looked them both over, her eyes intense. Then she reached out to take
their arms and lead them off to the side, so that they were more
isolated from the flow of traffic.
"What is it, Scully?" Aldara asked, staring around her alertly,
ready for the slightest sign of danger.
Scully caught the poise of her friend's body, and pressed a
restraining hand onto her shoulder. "Nothing's wrong, it is just that
they have certain rules about what can be brought aboard the planes."
"What kind of rules?"
"No weapons of any kind. Well, they will make an exception for
me, because...I carry a permit that allows me to keep mine, but no one
else is allowed to bring a weapon aboard. The guards there," she
pointed to the security gate, through which people were passing one by
one under the eagle-eyed scrutiny of men in uniforms. "They will
arrest you if you try to go through with a weapon on you. Jourdain..."
He nodded, not liking the idea of losing the security of his
knives, but he recognized that Scully knew her world better than he
did. The last thing they needed was to be thrown into a dungeon for
breaking the laws of this place.
Aldara frowned, her green eyes sparking. She liked this even
less than her husband. She hadn't been without a weapon close at hand
since she was old enough to sneak out into the forest alone. And that
had been far younger than even her parents realized.
"I wish there was another way, but you are going to have to give
me anything that could pass as a weapon. I'll have to check in with
the guards anyway, and sign some papers, before they will let me
through. I'll put your knives in my bag, and you can have them back
when we reach Washington. I promise you'll be safe on the plane. No
one is allowed to bring a weapon, so no one can be harmed."
Aldara still hesitated, but Jourdain sighed and reached for his
belt knife, then for the one strapped to his arm, and finally for the
one in his left boot. Scully accepted all three, with a half-smile,
then turned to Aldara. The weaponry expert still frowned, but she gave
in and started handing over the knives she was carrying. After she had
handed Scully five, she stood back.
Scully dropped the blades into the bag, then gave Aldara a
suspicious look. Aldara returned her friend's glare with wide,
innocent eyes, but Scully was not fazed. "Hand it over, Aldara."
Jourdain added his glare to Scully's, making Aldara sigh
grievedly. Reaching up, she undid the large metal bracket holding her
hair off her face, and twisted it. From underneath the big clasp came
a small, sharply pointed silver needle. With a frown she handed it
over to Scully.
"Is that all?" Scully asked, unable to keep the laughter out of
her voice.
"Yes," Aldara replied, feeling suddenly naked without her
knives. Jourdain wrapped his arm around her shoulders and she settled
against his side gratefully. Scully turned slightly to the side,
obstentiously closing her small suitcase, but actually to give them the
appearance of some privacy. After a moment, she turned back to see
Jourdain nuzzling the top of his wife's dark curly hair.
"We'd better get going," Scully said, her full mouth curved up
into a gentle smile. They both nodded gravely, and followed her.
- - - - -

Scully felt like she was holding her breath until they finally
got onto the plane. Jourdain had the same trouble Mulder did on
airplanes, the seats were not made to comfortably accept someone of his
size. So Scully squeezed into the window seat, letting Aldara take the
middle and Jourdain the aisle. At least it would give him the sense of
more space.
Both Realm citizens had been very silent as they boarded the
plane, and had watched the stewardess give her safety lecture intently.
Scully wasn't certain how much of it they had understood, but she knew
better than to underestimate either's intelligence. Jourdain was
taciturn and solid, but he had a sharp intellect under that
muscle-bound exterior. And Aldara was as quick of mind as she was of
temper. Scully just hoped it hadn't frightened them too much. Giving
them both a bright smile, she settled back in her seat and waited for
take-off. If they survived that, they could probably handle almost
anything else this world had to offer, or so she hoped.
- - - - -

Aldara squirmed in her seat, her mind focused on the bag resting
beneath Scully's feet. The half-elven warrior hated being without her
knives; even in her own home, they were never far from her side.
Jourdain had sometimes teased her about sleeping with a knife under the
pillow, but he was battle-experienced enough to understand her need to
keep a weapon close at all times. Well, at least the knives weren't
too far away, and Scully had promised to return them to her as soon as
they arrived in Washington. Aldara couldn't help being pleased at the
idea of seeing Mulder again.
Memories washed over her as the beast they were seated within
stirred to life. Closing her eyes, she remembered her first meeting
with the foreign magician, causing a small smile to play at the corners
of her lips. She had been hostile to him at first, yet he had
surprised her again and again. Mulder had been so different from any
Mage she had met before, and she had come to care deeply for the
quirky, unusual man with his odd sense of humor and easy-going manner.
Beneath that quiet exterior was tempered steel, Aldara knew well. But
she also knew the goodness of his heart, and trusted it completely. He
was the first Mage she had considered a true friend, and would always
be the only one she had no fear of.
Well, except maybe for her own daughter...
<ROAR> The beast they were seated within stirred loudly to life,
causing Aldara to jerk upright in her seat. She glanced over at Scully
and received another reassuring smile. Aldara returned it as best she
could, then tried to settle back in her seat as the plane began to
move.
- - - - -

They moved slowly at first to Jourdain's relief. He could feel
the power of the beast below them, the very chair he sat in vibrated
with its roar. The thunderous whine of the magic bird pounded at his
ears, while his stomach lurched within his belly. But everyone around
him seemed utterly relaxed. People were talking, reading from shiny
parchment and books, some even falling to sleep. A child screamed,
then was shushed by its mother. A pair of young girls giggled and
whispered in the seats across the spare walkway.
The beast lurched to the side, causing his breath to catch in his
lungs. He could feel the giant bird turning, almost sense its wings
expanding and preparing for flight. Then bells sounded from above, and
a voice spoke out of the air.
"Welcome to flight 1457 to Washington D.C. This is Captain John
Harris, with me is Second Officer Rick Eldridge. We are next in line
for departure. Flight attendants please prepare for take-off."
The bells chimed again, then Jourdain could hear the flow of air
changing, and the sound of the beast deepen. Taking Aldara's hand in
his, he squeezed her fingers tightly. She turned and smiled bravely at
him, then they both sank back in their seats as the giant creature
began to pick up speed.
Jourdain closed his eyes, feeling pinned back into the seat as he
felt a powerful force push them forward and then upward. The sound
climbed in intensity, drawing a throaty cry from his throat as they
were lifted up into the air at incredible speed, leaving the ground far
below.
Holding his breath, almost certain that they were going to crash
and break into a thousand pieces, Jourdain prayed harder than he had
ever done before. As time went on, and nothing more happened, he
slowly began to breathe again. Still holding onto Aldara's small,
calloused hand, he found himself thinking about his other friends who
had come into this strange and terrifying world.
He could only hope they were somewhere safe and well.

End Chapter Five