I was sitting on the armchair in my living room, feet up on the coffee table, legs bent, pad of paper on my knees, making lists. Tor was stretched out on the couch, his fingers wrapped around a bottle of beer that was resting on his abs, his eyes on a baseball game on the TV.
So… totally… a man.
This was after our conversation with Phoebe, Brianna and Marlene. It was after we had gone by the mall to get Tor a cell. And after we had come home, Tor stopping blocks away and getting out of the car to walk back just in case the apartment was under surveillance (somehow, he was standing outside my door by the time I got in the driver’s seat, drove home, found a place to park on the street and walked up to my apartment proving he wasn’t just strong, my man was fast and, I hoped, stealthy). I’d made Tor a dinner of spiral pasta, spaghetti sauce with meatballs, garlic bread, salad and beer (for him, diet root beer, for me) and Tor had shared he liked this meal far more than bologna sandwiches and Cheetos. Obviously, we followed dinner with red velvet cake because that cake could be a week old and it would still kick ass.
At the coffee house, we had learned from Phoebe that Noc had not given her anything.
Not that first thing.
Except he appeared pissed that, first, she was there and not Cora (as anyone who was getting the boot would be) and second, that he was getting the boot without explanation and for what appeared to be no reason. She’d tried to pry but he was closed up tight and after his hand gripped the handle of the suitcase, he didn’t hang around long.
She did stress, however, that he appeared pissed but she got the sense he felt relief and that mostly he just wanted his stuff. She also reported that he seemed distracted, acted like he had better things to do and that he just wanted to get the hell out of there.
This was a disappointment but not unexpected.
What was not a disappointment but was a shock (some of that shock good, as in possibly very good, some of it was bad, as in really bad) was all that we learned from Marlene.
First, we learned that the alternate Circe, in an effort to bring back the, uh, real Circe, had gone all out to find a witch in this world who would be able to bring the real Circe back to her world (how’s that for confusing?).
Then we learned, thankfully, as Tor confirmed from Marlene’s additional information, that this world was, indeed, Korwahk. And the witch had provided the information that there weren’t an infinite number of worlds. There was Tor’s and there was ours.
Then it was confirmed that Circe was sent back not by the witch. Circe’s King Lahn had found some means to transport her back to him. However, the witch had, with great confidence, assured Circe’s father who assured Marlene that Circe was safely back where she wanted to be. However, although the witch did not send Circe back, Marlene was relatively certain (relatively, yikes!) that she had the power to send Tor and I back.
And Marlene had also, prior to meeting with us, called Circe’s Dad, found out the location and swung by this witch’s trailer (yes, trailer) only to discover she was no longer there. In fact, the whole trailer was gone.
This was bad.
What was a surprise was that Marlene had said the witch was old, she was blind and her name was Clarabelle.
At that, I gasped and Tor’s eyes sliced to me. He showed and shared no response even when I quizzed him about it later in the car telling him I thought this was good news.
His reply was simply, “You are not the other Cora, this Noc is not me and this witch is not the other Clarabelle. We have no idea of her character. What we do know is she is a witch and anyone who dabbles in magic is suspect. We must tread cautiously.”
I had to admit, I was totally down with that.
I questioned Marlene more about Circe’s other world and learned that what Tor and Phoebe had said was true. Things for Circe, like me, had not started out all that great with Circe and her King Lahn and this was to say the least (she was, indeed, hunted, “claimed”, as in raped by this King Lahn, then installed as his queen) but somehow he rallied, they ended up getting on well, as in very well, so well she was desperately in love with him, desperately heartbroken when she’d left him, totally into having his child and apparently blissfully happy when she got back, gave him twins and was living her life like a queen (literally). She was so happy, she was apparently totally fine with leaving everything behind and living with this guy in his primitive world for the rest of her natural born days.
The semi-good news about all this was that apparently, Circe’s Dad had been able to get a message to her in her world and she was able to return one, setting her Dad (and Marlene’s) mind at-ease about her situation. The reason this was semi-good news was that, although Circe had been back there for awhile, communications between worlds were unpredictable and although Marlene told me that Circe’s Dad kept trying and Circe had promised her Dad she would too, he had not heard from her again.
This sucked. However, where there was hope well… there was hope.
Obviously, Queen Circe (or Queen Circe, the True Golden Warrior Queen of Korwahk, how’s that for a kickass title?), her brute king and their growing brood didn’t take vacations in Seattle which also sucked. We learned from Marlene the reason Circe did not go back and forth was because the witch Clarabelle informed Circe’s father, and the other Circe (who was, more news, a sorceress) corroborated this, that it took vast amounts of power to travel between worlds. There was not only little communication with the other world, what little there was was random, not in anyone’s control and therefore the witch did not know who was controlling the travel from the other side and she could not guarantee she could get messages from there or to there to bring anyone back. And even if she did, it would be a one way trip as, once she brought them here, she couldn’t get them home as getting them here would use up all her magic. It would take decades for her magic to recover enough for her to attempt another trip.
See? Totally sucked.
So, when Circe made her decision to send the message to her father that she was staying, this meant Circe knew it was King Lahn’s world or her own.
Circe chose King Lahn.
I got where she was coming from though I would have preferred to be able to travel back and forth at will say, having my child in my world where medicine was more advanced and so my parents could meet him or her and, of course, when the Oscars pre-shows were on because that was my most favorite event of the year (it was all about the dresses and, I might add, the hairstyles and jewelry).
Alas, this was not possible.
But I’d already made my choice, no matter how difficult. And I made it because Tor could not be a prince in my world, his people depended on him and he’d expended great effort (and had the scars to prove it) to rebuild his kingdom. I couldn’t ask him to give up enjoying the triumphant result of something he felt so strongly about he gave it five years of his sweat and blood and his efforts to regain it were marked on his face and body nor could I ask him to give up the eventual succession to rule a kingdom that was his birthright.
I was an administrative assistant, only Dave depended on me and the only wounds I ever got were from paper cuts.
I didn’t think about my parents or Phoebe or Dave or the Oscar pre-shows or any of that. I couldn’t. I had to focus. I was in love. I was pregnant. My man was far away from his family, who he cared about, and his people, who depended on him.
And I had a sister to get to know.
The rest I would deal with when the time came. And if I couldn’t then I knew Tor would help me or, at least, do everything he could to try.
Before we left the coffee house, Marlene had turned to Tor.
“You hear tales of her?” she asked.
“Indeed,” he answered.
“And she’s, um… happy?” she went on, her voice low, her eyes intense and Tor’s answer obviously meant the world to her.
At this, I tried not to look at Phoebe but that didn’t mean I didn’t search for her hand on the table, find it and hold it tight.
