Chapter 12

We wereindeed strangers in a very strange land, and "not in Kansas anymore" didn't even begin to cover it. The Twilight Zone was a more accurate description.

As we got closer to the city, I propped my head on my hand and stared out the window. With Lucy sitting next to me I had to keep my poker face in place, but it was difficult. We'd gone through the looking glass, quite literally, and this was not our world.

Many things were similar, from the makes of vehicles to businesses, infrastructure, and clothing. Beyond these basic similarities, however, the Broken World was completely different in every way I could think of.

I saw few small cars, even in the city. Most vehicles were heavy trucks, vans, SUVs, or jeeps. I did see a lot of public transportation, all heavily armored and many with weapons like the one mounted on Lucy's vehicle. No skyscrapers downtown, or anywhere else. The tallest buildings were about ten or fifteen stories, and there were only a handful. Instead of a few very tall buildings, there were lots of medium-sized ones—none of which had glass sides or lots of windows. I wondered if that was because of dragons, or a result of other factors. Doorways were taller, probably to accommodate those who were extra tall, and most doors had two sets of hardware: one for very tall persons, the other for the very short.

Pedestrian traffic was heavy in the center of town, and about one in twenty people seemed not-quite human—some far from it. Giants walked alongside dwarves, and neither paid the other much heed. One tall woman scurried across the street in a crosswalk using her hands and feet like a four-legged spider.

When Lucy turned into Mermaid Coffee, I had to bite my tongue to keep from chuckling. Even the logo was similar, down to the familiar green color. The mermaid on the sign looked like a real model instead of a design. Oh, right—they have real, live mermaids here. I gulped.

"What do you want?" Lucy asked me, pulling into the drive-through line behind an enormous truck with tires bigger than a standard car.

"I'll have to look at the menu," I said, realizing I had no idea if coffee drinks had the same sizes and names, or what anything cost. Adam's visions had indicated money was the same here, but prices of everyday goods were unknown.

"Definitely get both food and coffee. And you'll need food for Daisy too, I assume?" At my surprised expression, she added, "Or do you want to wait until we get to the roadhouse? It'll be cheaper there, but I'm not sure I want to ride a couple more hours with a hungry wolf."

I turned around to look at Daisy—er, my wolf. She licked her chops and stared at me rather pointedly. "Yes, something for Daisy too," I said, wondering what the hell a coffee shop had to feed a wolf. Then again, a Happy Meal for a wolf or large predator might not be too strange of an order here. I wanted to thump my head against the side of the vehicle.

We inched forward in the drive-through. A large, hairy arm came out of the passenger-side window of the truck in front of us and draped itself over the door. The hand had only three thick fingers, each tipped with a long, pointed claw. Behind me, Malcolm saw it and let out a strangled cough.

"It's such a nice day," Lucy said, propping her elbow on her open window. "So, where are you from?"

"About ten hours north of here." That was vague enough without sounding too evasive, I decided. "I'm between jobs at the moment, so I decided I wanted to see more of California."

"So naturally you set off hitchhiking with a ghost and a magic wolf." Her tone was dry. "No vehicle of your own?"

I shook my head. "Can't afford one. I've been all right hitching rides. Daisy and I ride in the back of trucks just fine, and no one even knows Malcolm's with us."

"And I suppose no one's messed with you, not with Daisy along." The truck pulled forward and Lucy rolled up to the menu and speaker.

A cheerful female voice welcomed us and asked for our order. Lucy ordered our coffee and food, then requested a medium-sized carnivore dinner. In the back seat, my wolf licked her chops again, much more loudly.

The employee gave us our total and said she'd see us at the window.

I reached for my backpack, but Lucy waved her hand. "I've got it. I've barely stopped for food or sleep these last couple of days, so I've got some per diem to burn through today."

"Are you sure? Most of that order was for Daisy."

She grinned. "I've never gotten to feed a magical wolf before. My treat, as long as she doesn't make a mess back there."

My wolf made a chuffing noise that might have been an indignant huff.

At the window, Lucy handed over a card to pay for our order. The smiling young woman working the drive-through had small, pointed teeth and little tips on her ears.

She caught me staring. "I love your earrings," I said, so she didn't think I was rude.

She grinned, flashing that mouthful of pointy teeth. "Thank you," she said. Was she fae? I'd only met two fae before, and they had teeth like that. They didn't have pointy ears, though. Maybe an elf? I felt an almost maniacal giggle bubbling up and squashed it just in time.

Lucy passed me an enormous cup of coffee and a wrapped sandwich and put her own in the cupholders between us. She handed me a heavy parcel and pulled away from the window.

Even through the thick paper wrapping of the package in my lap, I smelled raw meat. The packaging seemed to be designed for an animal to eat from; the bottom was thick, leak-resistant coated cardboard. I figured out how to tear open the top, fold down the sides, and turn it into a food dish full of hunks of raw meat. I'd seen two similar packages handed over to the truck in front us. Were they for animals in the truck, or the truck's driver and three-fingered passenger?

I set the food dish on the floor behind me so it wouldn't fly off the seat if Lucy had to hit the brakes. Daisy stood, stretched, and got down onto the floor to eat.

I hadn't eaten anything but a protein bar since throwing up after the trip through the mirror, but the sound of my wolf eating the raw meat with undisguised gusto made my breakfast sandwich less than appetizing. Her noisy noshing didn't bother Lucy, however, who nearly inhaled her breakfast and guzzled her coffee with enthusiasm while weaving through traffic with one hand on the wheel.

Finally, my grumbly stomach won out. I unwrapped my sandwich and was relieved to find a familiar sight of egg, sausage, and cheese on an English muffin. Broken boundaries or no broken boundaries, apparently humans would develop the same fundamentally satisfying breakfast foods regardless of circumstances. The coffee was better than I'd expected. Judging by the way she licked her dish clean and then settled onto the back seat to wash her muzzle, my wolf had enjoyed her meal as well.

"How far to the roadhouse?" I asked as Lucy drained the last of her coffee.

She checked the GPS directions on a screen on her dashboard. "Well, since we have to go around coven territory, the troll settlement, and the Jupiter Sinkhole, about two hours, assuming we don't get called to any emergencies between here and there. We'll be able to get some good rest this afternoon before things get hopping at the roadhouse, if you don't immediately find a ride out of town when we get there."

I wanted to ask what species the girl at the drive-through was, why a witch coven had a closed territory, and what the hell the Jupiter Sinkhole was. Instead I put our trash in a bag and stuck it under the seat. "I'll have to see how I'm feeling when we get there and what options I find for rides. Can I ask about those attacks you mentioned?"

She raised her eyebrows. "Not sure what else I can tell you. Maybe it's gravelings; maybe it's something else that wants us to think this is all due to escaped Underworld creatures."

What the hell was a graveling? "What would want you to think that?" I asked instead.

"Any number of things. Earth spiders, maybe, or Dark Fae, or hey, pick your trickster." Her hands tightened on the wheel. "All I know is, I want to find out who's behind this and deal with them."

"And who are you meeting at the roadhouse?"

"An alleged survivor of an attack." She made a face. "I'm not sure I can believe a damn word he says, but I'll hear him out—as long as I've got my gun pointed at his gut the entire time."

"What's the story there? You know the guy?"

She shook her head. "Shifter." Her ominous tone puzzled me, as if a shifter was something both incredibly dangerous and almost repulsive. Adam had said nothing about the shifters here. Were they different and more dangerous from shifters in our world? That would explain why Lucy was so wary of my wolf.

"Oh," I said, as if her response answered my question. "What kind of shifter?"

"Werewolf. He says the rest of his pack is dead. I don't know how he's alive if they were all wiped out, or how he's going to make it to the roadhouse alone." Her voice hardened. "If my captain knew that's who I'm meeting, he'd be pissed I'm going in without a partner."

"How come your captain lets you get away with so much?" I asked. "Disobeying orders, meeting alone with dangerous people, going after dragons by yourself?"

Her mouth twisted. "I've always subscribed to the theory that it's better to ask forgiveness than permission. Sometimes it bites me in the ass. Most of the time, it works out in my favor."

"I was under the impression the military doesn't like insubordination," Malcolm said.

"I'm sure they don't, but I've never been military. I'm not your typical Guardian either."

So the Guardians weren't military, then. Interesting.

"How so?" I asked.

"I'm not a sanctimonious asshole, and I'm not blindly obedient. Well, I guess a lot of us aren't anymore," she amended. "The ones who are left, that is."

That sounded like there was a hell of a story there. I was about to ask what she meant when the radio beeped again. "Station Ten to Four-oh-one. Come in, Four-oh-one." It was a woman's voice this time, and her tone was urgent.

Lucy had the radio in her hand long before the woman finished speaking, moving faster than I'd expected. Was Lucy not human either? That was an unexpected development—and something I'd have to find out more about. With all the strange ambient magic crackling on my skin, sensing others' magic was much more difficult here.

"This is Four-oh-one," Lucy said. "Dispatch, what's going on?"

"We've got a situation developing and local LEOs are requesting assistance from the League. You're the closest operative in the area not already engaged. Sending location to your GPS now."

The screen on the dashboard lit up with a red dot to the southwest. "Got it," Lucy said briskly. "Rerouting now. What have we got? Another dragon?" She actually sounded hopeful.

"Thankfully not," the dispatcher said. Lucy made a face. "Reports indicate a troll is causing property damage and civilian injuries at a community market."

I turned in my seat to look at Malcolm. His eyes were like saucers. A troll? he mouthed. I gave him a surreptitious thumbs-up. He rolled his eyes.

"Mission is to assess and contain," the dispatcher continued. "Local law enforcement will take custody once the troll is neutralized."

"Typical," Lucy muttered. "Let the League do the dirty work and then the locals take the credit." She activated the radio. "Ten-four, on my way. I'll report in when I've got him collared. Four-oh-one out." Lucy hung up the radio and glanced at me. "It's not that far off our route to the roadhouse, but this might take some time to sort out."

"We should probably strike out on our own, then," I said regretfully.

My wolf growled. When I glanced back, she stared meaningfully at Lucy, then rested her chin on her paws and eyed me. The message was clear enough: stay in the jeep and stick with the Guardian. What did she know or sense that I didn't?

"On second thought, we'll just come along to the market with you," I amended.

Lucy watched my wolf in the rearview mirror. "I get the feeling Daisy's more than just a wolf with some magic. Now that we've bonded over coffee, how about you tell me what she really is and what the three of you are doing here in California?"

Partial truths had always served me well in situations like this, so I sipped my coffee and tried not to flinch as she wove in and out of traffic on the highway at nearly one hundred miles an hour. "I'm looking for a friend of mine. She's been missing for two months. Last I heard, she was here. Daisy is really good at tracking people. She's leading me to find my friend. Malcolm is my best friend, and he came with us to help keep us safe."

"Sounds reasonable—and about half true." She smiled. "I know a professional when I see one, Alice. I'm guessing private operative. Were you hired to track this woman down?"

"Yes," I admitted, since further fibs wouldn't do much but make her more suspicious. "Track her and get something back she stole from my client."

"And your wolf? What is she?"

"Not a shifter," I said to reiterate the point, because I had the feeling being a shifter meant something different here than it did back home. "She's my companion."

Another glance into the back seat. "Is she an amarok?"

I didn't know what that was, but her tone indicated it was something to be very wary of. I shook my head. "She's smart and she can be dangerous if someone poses a threat, but mostly she just tracks people and things and tries to boss me around."

Daisy chuffed in agreement.

Lucy let out a snort. "Okay, I feel like I've gotten about sixty or seventy percent of the truth, which is good enough for right now. Maybe later I'll ply you with drinks at the roadhouse and try to get the rest." She sobered. "I've got to deal with a rampaging troll first. When we get to the market, stay in the jeep. I may be a maverick, but I don't want to have to explain to my captain that I had a civilian with me on a call and she got eaten by a troll. He'll be pissed about how much paperwork he'll have to do, and so will I."

Malcolm coughed. "Paperwork is the literal worst," he said dryly.

"You said it," Lucy said with feeling.

"Fair enough. I'll stay in the jeep," I promised.

* * *

As it turned out, I didn't end up staying in the jeep—but in my defense, the troll threw it across the parking lot, so it was a good thing I wasn't in it.

When we arrived at the enormous open-air building that housed the community market, the parking lot was total chaos, full of people running to their vehicles and trying to leave. All four exits were blocked by traffic.

Lucy swore and swerved away from the traffic jam. I hung onto the dashboard as the jeep jolted hard over the concrete curb, bounced across uneven ground, and slid to an abrupt stop just outside the building.

She threw the vehicle in park, unfastened her seatbelt, and jumped out. "Stay here," she barked.

Inside the building, heavy objects crashed, people screamed, and something very large bellowed obscenities. Shoppers and vendors, carrying items they'd wanted to save from the troll's rampage, stood outside, helpless and shell-shocked.

Lucy ran into the building, shouting, "Guardian coming in! Make a path! Move!"

I might not have known what a Guardian was, but everyone else did. They scrambled to get out of her way. She vanished into the market.

"I know she said to stay here, but I feel bad that she's going in there without any kind of backup. Plus I actually do want to see a troll," Malcolm said, floating into the driver's seat area to get a closer look at the chaos inside the market. "Why do you suppose her partner's not with her? And why didn't she want the League to send anyone else out to work with her?"

"I think Lucy likes to do things her own way." I turned to my wolf. "Are we still on the trail of the scroll?"

My wolf put her right front paw on top of Lucy's black duffel bag, which was on the floor behind the driver's seat, and stared at me.

"So, you want us to stick with her until the roadhouse? Why?"

Malcolm snorted. When I frowned at him, he said, "Sorry, this is like watching Lassie, except instead of a gentle collie, we've got a giant magical demon-eating—"

The troll roared. Lucy came flying out of the market, hit the front of the jeep, and landed on the ground. Another crash came from inside, followed by a triumphant bellow.

I pointed at my wolf. "Stay inside," I commanded. "If I need you, I'll call."

She gave me a disdainful look and returned her head to her paws.

I got out and shut my door. By the time I made it around to the front of the jeep, Lucy was on her feet, seemingly uninjured except for a cut on her forehead. "Damn troll won't listen to reason," she muttered, rubbing her arm. "What the hell are you doing out here?"

"We can help," I said.

"I don't want paperwork," she reminded me.

"Malcolm's a ghost, remember? That could give you an advantage."

She pushed loose hair back from her face. "Don't know how, but maybe he could distract the troll long enough for me to try to calm him down. You need to stay clear, though, for your own—"

"No! Put him down!" a woman screamed from somewhere in the building.

We ran inside the market and into a fog of every kind of magic I'd ever encountered—and many more I hadn't.

As Lucy disappeared into the crowd, I staggered against a support post, fighting the onslaught of smells, spells, and power. The market had the kinds of stalls I'd expect to find at a flea market or farmer's market back home: antiques, collectibles, homemade foods, handmade and vintage clothing, and so forth. Almost a third of the booths appeared to be selling magic in the form of amulets, objects of power, ingredients for rituals and spells, potions, and light weaponry.

While the more mundane stalls remained relatively intact, the troll appeared to have targeted the magic-related vendors specifically for destruction. The result was a highly volatile jumble of broken spellwork and spilled potions.

"No magic in here," I wheezed as Malcolm gaped at the carnage. "We could blow this place sky-high with our weird power."

"There's more loose magic in here than in a mage strip club," Malcolm quipped. "I don't even know what all those potions do, but some of them are eating through the concrete and I think I just saw a ferret with two heads hide under a table." He looked around. "Where's Lucy?"

The troll bellowed again. I pushed away from the post and stumbled ahead on rubbery legs, elbowing bystanders out of the way. "I'm with the Guardian," I told them, which was technically true.

They made a path for me. I had a hard time walking straight—or even seeing straight. My vision swam repeatedly, causing me to bump into people, posts, and tables as we made our way toward the sound of the angry troll. Even in the wake of an explosion in a mage workshop that destroyed a wing of my grandfather's cabal compound, I'd never experienced anything like this.

I pushed past a few more people, staggered into a wide aisle between booths, and found myself staring up, up, up at an honest-to-goodness, full-sized, very angry troll—and at the much-smaller but equally furious Guardian who stood nearly toe-to-toe with him, her hands on her hips.

The troll towered over Lucy. Eight feet tall and half as wide, he had long hair, bushy eyebrows, a thick beard, enormous fists at the ends of tree trunk-sized arms, and huge, wide feet. He wore, of all things, a suit, though the jacket had numerous tears. Something—maybe spilled potions—had eaten away patches of his pants and turned them various colors.

At the moment, the troll had an unconscious man tucked under his arm like a rolled newspaper. An angry woman stood behind Lucy, her face flushed and stained blue, presumably from one of the many spilled potions.

The troll opened his mouth to bellow again.

"Stop," Lucy ordered him.

I sensed something: a little surge of magic, but not any kind I'd ever encountered. Beside me, Malcolm flitted in place. Something about what Lucy had just done had unsettled him.

The troll's mouth snapped shut. He looked startled.

"I'm Lieutenant Lucy Stone of the League of Guardians," she said, and she sounded damned intimidating when she said it. "Tell me what's going on here."

"You should be shooting him," the woman behind Lucy said. "Why are you talking to him? Look what he's done!"

"Quiet," Lucy told her.

Again, I sensed that little nudge of magic. The woman fell silent. Uh-oh, I thought.

"Oh, shit," Malcolm muttered. He'd figured it out too. Lucy had magic, all right—magic we needed to stay very far away from.

"Talk to me," Lucy told the troll. No nudge this time, just an offer to listen to what he had to say.

The people around us reacted angrily. I overheard a few epithets directed at Guardians in general and Lucy in particular, and one or two vulgar comments. The crowd wanted the troll arrested or taken out, and Lucy's questioning wasn't of interest to them.

The power of Lucy's suggestion wore off rapidly. The troll's expression darkened and his eyes narrowed. Instead of bellowing or smashing a booth, he squeezed the man under his arm until I heard something pop out of joint. Maybe the man's shoulder.

"This man is kebek," the troll told Lucy. I didn't know what that word meant, but it clearly wasn't a compliment. His voice was very deep, and heavily accented. "He kidnapped my sister. He comes to these markets to buy potions and magic and sell those he takes. I want my sister returned."

"Why smash everything in this market?" Lucy asked.

The troll glowered at the woman behind Lucy. "These people—they sell magic here, they sell people in secret. It is known in my clan. This market does not just trade in potions and wands." He gestured at the smashed booths around us. "They sell people like my sister."

"Why not contact the League for help to find your sister?"

"My father did ask," he snarled, and gave the unconscious man another bone-crushing squeeze. "I was told no one was available, too many other problems, that I must wait. I cannot wait. My sister cannot wait. I find him here. I will make him tell me where she has gone."

Lucy muttered a curse. She'd said there were fewer Guardians now than before, and they were stretched thin. The troll's sister's case had apparently fallen through the cracks.

"I'm sorry," she told the troll. "Come with me. I'll see both you and this man are taken safely into League custody instead of local jail. We'll find out where your sister is."

The troll drew himself up. "I am the eldest son of the chief of our clan. I will not be arrested. I will find my sister for my family." He looked past Lucy at the woman standing behind her. "Tell me where she is, or I will break his neck."

Lucy turned to look at the woman. "You heard him."

The blue-faced woman shook her head. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Calmly, the troll broke the man's arm. The woman screamed. "Stop him!"

"Tell me where his sister is, and I will," Lucy said.

The troll grabbed the man's left arm.

"We sold her to a dealer in Denver," the woman said quickly, shooting Lucy a venomous look. "A woman named Kelsey. Patricia Kelsey. I have no knowledge of what happened to her after that."

Lucy pulled a set of handcuffs from her belt. "You're under arrest on a whole bunch of federal charges."

The woman sniffed. "Not for long, I won't be, Guardian. I know people. I'll be released before you finish the paperwork."

With a roar, the troll broke the man's left arm and threw his limp body across the market. He bolted, tossing aside people, tables, and anything else that got in his way.

The woman who'd sold the troll's sister tried to run past me. I tripped her, rode her down to the floor, and pinned her face down on the concrete with my knee in the middle of her back, right where it would really hurt. "Oh no you don't," I told her.

She called me something very rude.

I held out my hand. Lucy tossed me her cuffs. I locked them on the woman's wrists and made sure to grind my knee into her ribs as I got up. Lucy took off running after the troll.

My head was still muddled by all the loose magic, but I heard the sound of something very heavy colliding with something else very heavy in the direction of the parking lot. I had a sudden terrible feeling about what the troll's latest target had been.

I left the handcuffed woman on the ground, told someone who looked like a security guard to keep an eye on her, and pushed my way through the crowd to the edge of the building.

The jeep was no longer where we'd left it. It was twenty feet away, upside down, on top of a truck. I saw no sign of the troll or Lucy.

Near where our vehicle had been parked, my wolf sat calmly on her haunches next to my backpack, her lip curled to show a few sharp teeth. No one ventured within twenty feet of her.

An angry bellow rolled across the parking lot from behind a row of vehicles. The sound cut off abruptly.

I headed in the direction of the troll's roar. Lucy appeared around the side of a truck, dusting off the knees of her pants. "He's going to take a nap for a while," she told me grimly. "I'm sorry about his sister, but he destroyed a lot of property today, and I can't have him running around playing vigilante."

"Why?" a woman asked snidely as she walked past. "Do you think Guardians have a monopoly on it?"

"We aren't vigilantes," Lucy said, her tone weary. "Not as a general rule, anyway."

The woman snorted and headed for her vehicle, an enormous truck that had escaped damage.

I'd started to get a clearer picture of not just what kind of person Lucy was, but also who the League of Guardians were. I was deeply wary of her, but it took a certain kind of person to do a thankless, dangerous job.

"Well, I got the troll and a couple of traffickers, but that could have gone better," Lucy said. She headed for the jeep. "Hopefully the radio still works and someone can bring me another ride."

While Lucy checked on her vehicle, I approached my wolf. One of the straps of my backpack showed marks left by her teeth. She'd apparently taken it out of the jeep before the troll tossed it. How she'd known to do that, I had no idea.

"Thanks," I told her.

She nudged her head under my hand. Her magic and strength filled me and cleared the last of the fog away.

Malcolm joined us. "See, I told you trolls would be fun," I said.

He shook his head and didn't answer.

Well, I thought it was funny, anyway.