Mysteria Nights

“Are you—are you Withering?” Scornful asked in a tentative voice Thad would not have believed any of the triplets capable of.

The grown woman looked around and frowned. “Cander va iee—I just left, did I not?”

“I—I wished you’d grow up,” Mrs. Desdaine said faintly, looking like she might swoon into the water. “And then you were gone. But you came right back.”

At once the woman went to Mrs. Desdaine and knelt, the point of her sword hitting the bricks with a clunk and actually chipping off a piece. “O my mother, when this woman was a girl, she caused you many trials. This woman would ask forgiveness and would spend her life making things right for thee.”

“What?” the other three Desdaines gasped in unison.

“Please, this woman asks most humbly,” the tall blonde said, her gaze fixed on the bricks.

“That’s not Withering,” the other two said in unison.

“This woman certainly is.”

“Honey, get up off the ground,” Mrs. Desdaine said, pushing back matted dark curls. “It’s fine, everything’s fine. I’m just glad you’re—you’re back.” She choked a bit on that last, but Thad thought she did a fine job of pretending she didn’t mind missing the entire adolescence of one of her children.

“Hi,” Thad said, utterly dazzled. “I’m Thad Wilson; I run the pizza place across the street.”

Slowly, she rose until she was at exact eye level. Her blond hair was matted to her head, and she was dripping all over everything; her sword was stained purple, and he still couldn’t take his eyes off her. “Sir, this woman is pleased to meet you.”

“Look at you!” Derisive (or was it Scornful?) said, circling the woman. “You’re all grown-up and bulgy. And you’re talking with a seriously weird accent.”

“It took many years to find my way back.”

“Let’s talk about it,” Thad suggested, “over a pizza.”

The woman—Withering—cracked a grin. “This woman has not had a pizza in some time. This woman would be delighted.”

And so they trooped across the street.

Four

Withering ate as if someone was going to take it away from her. Given the state of her clothing (clearly homemade from animal skins) and the way her collarbones jutted, Thad guessed her meals were hard to come by.

And where had she been in the five seconds—fifteen years?—she’d been gone? Someplace demanding . . . even unforgiving.

Scornful and Derisive weren’t at all happy with the new development, it was obvious to see. Normally you couldn’t shut them up. But now the girls picked at their lunch and couldn’t stop staring at their sister, then at each other, then at Withering.

Thad couldn’t help staring at Withering, either, but for an entirely different reason.

“Honey, I’m so sorry,” Mrs. Desdaine was saying, mournfully sprinkling red pepper flakes on her pizza slice. “I never should have said something like that around the wishing well. I’ve lived in this town my entire life, and I can’t believe I was so careless—and at my own daughter’s expense!”

“You meant no harm. And, if this woman’s memory is correct, we were causing trouble in the first place.”

“Traitor,” Scornful muttered, picking another slice of pepperoni off her pizza.

“Wicked tall traitor,” Derisive added, pushing her plate away.

“I don’t care!” their mother cried. “You obviously were sent somewhere awful and forced to grow up there. Your clothes—and your weapons—and you’re so thin.”

Withering looked surprised, as if she wasn’t used to anyone worrying about her. Probably she wasn’t. “This woman adapted.”

“Can you use some pronouns now?” Derisive snapped. “The whole ‘this woman’ bit is getting real old.”

“You shush, Derisive,” their mother ordered. “Tell me, Withering, dear. How long were you—were you wherever you were?”

Withering shrugged. “This wom—I didn’t keep count. Long enough to survive and take over the realm.”

“Realm?” Thad said, speaking for the first time.

“The demonic realm I fell into. I learned to fight by killing demons. And when the time was right, I killed the leader and took over. The one you saw in the water—that was someone trying to snatch back the crown.”

“So you’re like a queen in that other place?” Scornful said, finally sounding a little—just a little— impressed.

Withering shrugged. “I lead. But now . . .” She looked around the nearly deserted pizza parlor. “I know not where my place is.”

“It’s with your family, of course,” her mother said firmly.

“Perhaps, O my mother,” she replied, but she looked doubtful.

“Well, why not?” Thad asked.

Withering looked uncomfortable. “It may not be . . . safe. For me to remain here.”

“Of course you’re going to remain here,” her mother said sharply.

“Yes,” Scornful added, then giggled. “This woman will stay.”

“You don’t have to decide anything right this minute,” Thad pointed out and was rewarded with one of her rare, rich smiles.

Five

KELLMANND DIMENSION, EARTH PRIME

TWELVE YEARS AGO

Withering landed in black dust with a skull-rattling thud. The breath whooshed out of her lungs, and for a moment she just lay there, gasping and inhaling that strange dust.

She painfully climbed to her feet, looking around in bewilderment. She was in an utterly strange, utterly alien place. The colors and textures were all wrong; they actually hurt her eyes. She was in a large circle of black dust, beyond which was bright blue grass. It appeared to be an oasis of some kind, because beyond the grass was a waterfall gushing purple water over green rocks.

What had happened? Where the hell was she?

She remembered her mother shouting, she remembered that nasty postal worker knocking her into the—

Oh, no.

No, no, no.

“Mother! Please come get me!” In her extremity of terror, she was screaming. “Please don’t leave me here!”

“This man . . . is pleased . . . to see this girl.”

Her head snapped around, and she saw a grievously wounded man lying about ten feet away, on the edge of the blue grass. He had blood all over him, and every time he gasped for breath, blood bubbles foamed across his lips.

She scrambled over to him. “Where am I? What happened to you?”

His pupils were blown, actually bleeding into the whites of his eyes. She was awfully afraid she was going to