3. Mari

Chapter three

Mari

" C an we talk now?" I say, forcing my bowl to the ground after eating three helpings.

Patti looks at me for a long moment, there are thoughts and strategies noticeably reeling in his mind. That makes me nervous. What negotiations is he making with himself? What is he going to decide to hold back?

"Would you just spit it out already? I'm a big girl; I can take it."

"Well, actually, compared to most creatures here, you're rather small."

"That's not fucking funny, and you know what I meant. I've been waiting all day. So, can you please, for the love of God, spill?" I clench my teeth, my jaw ticking. Being treated like a porcelain doll is doing nothing but fueling my rage.

He must sense my irritation because he shifts nervously in his seat. "I'm sure you have realized by now that you are not home anymore."

"No shit, I'm not home, so where am I?"

"Right, now we are in the Flats or the Farm Lands. This world is broken into many lands with many peoples."

"As are most places. Can we get on with it?" I say, wanting him to get to the actual point.

"We are in Kereiv, a large land bordered by the ocean on both sides, split into five different provinces. The Green Lands, the Farm Lands, the Storm Lands, and the Burnt Lands." He pauses.

"That's only four."I interrupt before he can continue.

"We consider the ocean a land…of sorts, but we take no part in how it is run and have minimal contact with those who live there."

"This all sounds like an acid trip; the ocean is land?"I ask, frustrated.

"Obviously, as far as the eyes can tell, it's not. But it's a place full of creatures and governed like any land above water would be. So, we consider it its own entity."

Delving into the intricacy of this place's geography wasn't the best way to start. "You said, human. So, there are humans here?"

"Yes, you're not the first to come through the veil. Some even decide to stay and live in the village three or four days away from here."

Different countries, different states, different planes of existence. This knowledge feels much like the mud did today. The more you struggle, the more it consumes you.

Part of me wants to make a joke. Diminish it somehow. Make it more palatable. What would be the joke, though? "Hey bitch, you've landed in a world where the mud can eat you, and knives sing to you. Funny, huh?" It's not, not at all.

Patti goes on. "I could tell you weren't from here by your clothes and that you appeared out of thin air." He chuckles, but I hold my tongue and let him go on. "Anyway, I figured getting you to town with other humans was the best option. I am heading in that direction to make a delivery, anyway."

"Oh, so this was all a convenience for you?" I snap, not being able to help it.

"Are you always this prickly? When you entered this life, I swear to the spirits, it must have been in a cauldron of fire filled with viper venom."

I don't show it, but that is one of the best ways I've ever heard someone describe me. When—if—I get back, I'm putting that on a T-shirt.

"Better to be a viper than a mouse," I retort, despite myself. I shouldn't; he has been more than kind, but being friendly and easygoing is not my nature.

"Anyway," he continues, "the forest has been off for some time now. It's not a surprise something ended up coming through." That piques my interest.

"What do you mean by ‘off'?"

"I just mean it hasn't felt right. I live in the deep woods of the Green Lands. As you can tell from the contents of my cart, I deal in wool. It's a great place for animals who prefer rock and a cool climate." He thinks for a moment, choosing his words carefully. "There are things, creatures showing up that don't belong here, and I don't mean humans. I wouldn't be so worried if it were just humans passing through the veil, but it's not." My mouth dries up at his words, and a shiver runs through me. "That's all I want to say about that. I don't want to scare you. We're safe down here. It doesn't seem to affect the Flats."

Well, at least there's that.

The fire snaps and pops into the black space where a conversation usually transpires—sending crackling sparks into the sky like fireflies.

The stars light a beautiful mosaic as blue-black night creeps in, taking over the color from the sinking sun. My eyes go wide, staring up at the emerging stars overhead. I don't recognize any of the constellations. They are telling myths I've never learned, I've never seen. For the first time since waking up here, I feel "other," like I don't belong.

I'm adrift in this expanse of the night sky, trying to decipher stories I'll never be able to read.

"Lost in a thought, miss?" Patti calls over to me, and I realize that my head is tilted all the way back, and I am at risk of tipping.

"No, everything is fine." I pause for a moment, changing the direction of the conversation. "Where will I be sleeping tonight? I only see one sleeping bag."

"Oh, yes, of course. I thought I'd let you choose. The bedroll or the cart on the wool with an extra blanket."

"I'll take the cart," I answer instantly, not wanting to sleep on the ground. With my giant ass bruise. "In fact, laying down sounds pretty damn good right about now."

I stand, walking over to the hardwood cart piled high with bags of soft wool.

"Goodnight, miss. I hope you have a better day tomorrow," Patti says, and the rings in his ears glint off the firelight.

Me too, Patti, me too.

I watch the night sky swirl overhead in my bedding, which is made of stuffed burlap sacks. It's oddly comfortable. My only constant in all of this chaos.

It isn't long before sleep has me.