“Eight winds, and she can already carry a weapon,” he said with some pride.

  Uncertain what to do, I let my head rest on his shoulder.

  I liked this. A lot. Should I have been this comfortable with a stranger?

  “What’s her name?” I asked.

  “Sayla, and she will be twice my size if she doesn’t stop growing.”

  I smiled, touched by the affection in his tone.

  Teyan began talking about his sister and how, as the second youngest, he had been the one to raise her after their mother’s death when he was twelve and his sister two. Exhausted and comfortable with him, I wasn’t able to keep my eyes from drooping closed before long.

  It was kind of creepy to fall asleep on a different planet with an alien stranger holding me. Teyan was different, and I felt at home with him, even though we were literally worlds apart.

  Despite my worry, I fell asleep quickly to the sound of his low voice.

  Chapter Ten

  The next morning, I awoke alone, curled up on one of the pillow beds close to the glowing ice cube at the center of the igloo. Voices spoke outside the round home. I rose and went to the bathroom then straightened my clothing. I was thirsty, hungry and jet lagged. It had been nighttime when I left my world but daytime here. It appeared to be morning again here, which meant I was way off my normal sleep schedule.

  I tucked the memory rock into my pocket and then wrapped Teyan’s coat around me before leaving the igloo. He stood with three Komandi, speaking, a short distance away. I recognized one of the Komandi – the one who swatted my ass – and stayed where I was. My eyes went to the ground to see if any more weird snow worms were going to try to eat me. The snow appeared normal enough, despite its hue, though the cold was already creeping through my sandals to chill the bottom of my feet.

  “Caretaker!” one of the Komandi boomed.

  I looked up.

  “I heard you met the snow worms,” he said and laughed.

  I shuddered in response.

  Teyan’s gaze fell to me and softened, and I fought to keep from blushing beneath his intent look. He left the three Komandi and approached me, pausing a few feet away and pushing his hands into the pockets of his tunic.

  “Are you ready to return?” he asked. His skin was black again in the full light of morning, his eyes a mesmerizing shade of faded tanzanite and his tattoos light purple.

  Unable to look away from his strong, handsome features, I didn’t hear his question for a few seconds.

  “Yes,” I forced myself to say at last. Blinking out of the spell, I glanced past him to the Komandi, who watched with different levels of amusement. “They won’t stop us?”

  Teyan shook his head firmly. “I have a new alliance with Kikonam.” He turned and lifted his chin towards the Komandi I punched the other day. “He agreed to free you without ransom, because you hit him.”

  “I guess that’s good,” I said.

  “The Komandi are good people. Uncivilized brutes, but good people,” Teyan said this loudly enough for the three to hear him.

  Kikonam flashed a smile. “It is an honor, Caretaker!” he said and rested a hand over his heart before bowing with a grin. “Teyan, see her home and return to us. We have much to discuss!” The three of them walked away.

  Teyan nodded and stood aside for me to join him on the walkway winding through the outpost.

  I joined him, and we began walking. The silence between us grew awkward fast. Uncertain what to say, I took in the strange village of the Komandi and their gorgeous yet unusual sky and trees.

  “I know you’re very particular about your allies. Are you upset you had to make an ally here so we could leave?” I asked finally. “I don’t want to cause you any trouble.”

  “No trouble,” Teyan replied with his unfaltering confidence. “It is time for me to form my own alliances. Kikonam is a cousin to the leader of the Komandi. My father would approve. He is a good friend to have, and he likes you.” These words were spoken with an amused smile.

  “That makes no sense. Where I come from, if you punch someone, they’re you’re enemy.”

  “Komandi respect strength and admire those with courage.”

  “I hit him because I was scared, not brave.”

  “It was the right reaction,” Teyan said. “Whatever your reasoning.”

  We reached the edge of the village, and I stopped, eyeing the snow once more. “Um, are we going to run into any more of those worm things?”

  “We should not, but in case we do …” He hefted the club he carried in the hand opposite the side nearest me. “The di-di eat them, and the herd is close.” He indicated the mixed herd of small dinosaurs that were milling in an open field nearby.

  “Are the di-di dangerous?” I asked.

  “No. The Caretaker once told me of an animal you have in your world, a dog. The di-di are like dogs. The Komandi train them, and they are loyal.”

  I’d never seen a dog the size of a dinosaur, but I kept this comment to myself.

  “The portal is this way.” Teyan offered his hand.

  I glanced at it, uncertain why fear gripped me when I considered closing the gap between us to join hands with him. I fell asleep against him last night, and he was probably the only man in any world who I was remotely comfortable being around. But still – I froze.

  To my surprise, I saw a faint bloom of red in his cheeks. He lifted his hand then pushed it into his pocket, as if the stoic, confident warrior were as uncertain about what was between us as I was.

  It wasn’t like we were going to see each other often, given that we came from two different dimensions. But even if we did meet on occasion – was that so bad? Teyan was a nice guy and the first person I felt a genuine connection to, alien or not. Part of me didn’t want to lose the feeling of not being alone, while another part of me couldn’t let go of my past.

  Frustrated by my fear, I sucked in a deep breath and approached him. This time, I held out my hand.

  Teyan started to smile then stopped and cleared his throat. He took my hand, and we began walking together down a narrow road winding through the white-frosted hills. Snow crunched beneath our footsteps, and we continued in awkward silence, each too aware of the other and also aware of how abnormal it was for strangers from two worlds to experience what we did for one another.

  Despite our long talk last night, I still knew relatively nothing about him. Neither could I bring myself to ask. I was too fascinated by the feel of his warm, large hand in mine and trying to settle the butterflies in my stomach that seemed to be trying to make their way to my heart. We went through a forest I barely noticed, because I was too immersed in Teyan and the tumultuous emotions inside me, and into the hilly plains on the other side.

  We walked for twenty minutes or so, until I was to the point where my feet were starting to hurt from cold. We stopped at the base of a hill, where I was able to make out the faint outline of a door painted the same color as the snow. Nearby, four Komandi mounted on di-dis were guarding the isolated spot.

  “We are here,” Teyan said and faced me. “I must remain here for now, but I will visit again soon.”

  Heat fluttered through me. “I would like that,” I said and was surprised to realize it was true. Maybe I would wait a while before calling my probation officer

  I reached into my pocket and pulled out the memory rock to return it.

  “It is a … gift. For you to keep,” he said. “It is not my tradition, but the Caretaker said your people do this.”

  I nodded with a smile. “Thank you.” I thought of the rock I’d tried to give him and reached into my pocket. It was gone, I recalled, along with all the belongings I’d brought to Arizona. Unwilling to humor my dismay, I mentally went through my outfit. I didn’t even have money with me, nothing except …

  My locket, which held the last picture taken of my father. After a split second of hesitation, I reached up and pulled it off then held it out to him.

  Teyan’s gaze went from the inexpensive, silver locket to my face, as if he understood how important it was to me.

  “Everything else of mine was burnt in the fire,” I said.

  “I cannot,” he said. “You need not give me anything. This is your tradition, not mine.”

  “But I want to,” I replied firmly. “Take it. Please. You have been very kind to me. I want you to have this.”

  He studied me a moment longer before accepting the gift slowly.

  “You can bring it back to me next time you visit,” I added.

  “I will do that,” he agreed.

  We gazed at one another long enough for me to start to feel fevered.

  “I have to go,” I murmured and took a step towards the door in the side of the hill. I felt like I should say something else but I wasn’t certain what, so I waved.

  Teyan waved back, the locket clenched in his hand.

  Kicking myself mentally for being so embarrassingly awkward, I turned away and approached the door. It opened at my touch, and I stepped through, emerging into the much warmer desert night in Arizona.

  I stood at the end of the driveway and looked back but saw nothing except the road and desert. Teyan and the cold Komandi world were both gone.

  The scent of burning wood drew my focus back to my world.

  The house was smoldering, and a trickle of smoke wound its way from the way station between worlds into the sky.

  The giddy warmth of being with Teyan faded, replaced by sorrow and uncertainty once more. How was I supposed to see Teyan again, if there was nowhere for me to live here?

  I started down the driveway, searching the darkness for any sign of the other visitors who had been present when I left the night before. It was difficult to make out much about the scene before me. The moon wasn’t out, though the stars cast enough light for me to distinguish shapes when I got closer to them.

  No one was present. I circled the charred house and paused beside the pyre before moving on quickly. I had no stomach for death and wasn’t about to go searching for any bones.

  The shed had been burnt down as well as the garage.

  “Is anyone here?” I called into the night and then held my breath, awaiting an answer.

  Nothing.

  I looked around the large area, feeling lost once more. For a month and a half, I’d had a home and purpose, however much I despised the woman running my life. Both of those things were gone.

  I’d have no choice but to call my probation officer. I couldn’t stay here. My mom could fly me home, and I’d have to face the judge who hated me the day I got back.

  I didn’t want that. I didn’t want jail. I wasn’t even certain I wanted to return to New York. And I didn’t want to leave when Teyan was supposed to return to visit.

  As if there could ever be anything between us. Anytime something good happened, I ruined it or Life did. I’d met someone I liked, and chances were, I’d never see him again.

  Miserable at the thought, I wrapped the cloak around me and sat down to gaze at the house. Worried about what happened tomorrow, I lay on my back to gaze at the brilliant stars above.

  What the hell did I do with my life next? I had a hard time accepting the supernatural bed and breakfast in the desert, but suddenly, I couldn’t help wishing I’d wake up to find the house had regrown itself as fast as my garden did.

  Why was this the only solution to my problem that filled me with hope and made me look forward to tomorrow instead of dreading it? I knew the answer when I took a deep breath. Teyan’s scent was heavy on his cloak, and I liked it enough to hold the cloth to my nose and take another whiff.

  “Please rebuild yourself,” I whispered to the house.

  With nowhere else to go, I lay on my back for hours, until I grew drowsy enough to fall asleep beneath the stars.

  Chapter Eleven

  I woke up hungry, miserable and stiff – but warm. Someone had started a small campfire near me. I pushed myself up groggily and peered through swollen eyes at my world. The sun rested on the eastern horizon, and the smell of burning wood was in the air.

  I twisted to see the house, and my hope plummeted to the ground.

  It hadn’t rebuilt itself, though it no longer gave off any smoke. Everything was ash and charred wood, a pile of black, except … the front door. It stood in all its glory, the worn, wood planks in their frame as if no fire had raged for two days around it.

  Frowning, I blinked rapidly as I stood, uncertain I was seeing this right. How did the front door survive when the rest of the house was in ashes?

  “Hungry?” Carey’s voice came from the direction of the shed.

  I turned to face him. He had built a lean-to out of the extra wood left over from my days chopping tree trunks.

  “Starving,” I replied and started towards him.

  He smiled and beckoned me over to the makeshift shelter. “Bagels,” he said with a sheepish grin. “Kinda plain but I have tons of them.”

  I said nothing and knelt, reaching for one without bothering to thank him. I ate three of the huge bagels before the hunger was gone and then downed the liter bottle of water he offered me.

  Carey said nothing until I was finished, and I lowered the empty bottle. “So … how’s life?” he asked.

  I shook my head. “I don’t even know.”

  “You went to Komandi?”

  I nodded.

  “Cold, isn’t it?”

  “Very. Ice worms, dinosaurs and igloos … that happened, didn’t it?” I studied him. “I’m not going crazy?”

  “No, you’re not. I hate visiting Komandi, too. Not a fan of the cold.”

  “I’d be more concerned about the dinosaurs,” I retorted.

  He laughed. “On Komandi, there are few predators. The planet is overrun with herbivores. It’s where we go to hunt.”

  I shook my head, not caring what kind of dinosaurs they were. My gaze went to the pile of rubble left over from the house. “It’s really gone, isn’t it?” I asked, saddened.

  “It is,” he confirmed. “But that doesn’t mean you aren’t meant to be a Caretaker. We each build our own home.”

  I considered the idea with a frown. I could continue to live this bizarre life, dealing with aliens, or I could go home, serve my time and live a semi-normal life. I could pretend this insanity never happened.

  But I’d never see Teyan again, if I did that.

  Did it matter? It wasn’t like I could live in a world with monsters, and Teyan was clearly determined to save his from monsters. He wasn’t going to leave his people to stay with me. Where did that leave me?

  My stomach sinking, I found myself reaching for the locket that was no longer there.

  “How ‘bout it?” Carey asked. “You ready to become one of us?”

  I gazed at the door, the only part of the house left standing. “I need to think about it,” I replied.

  “Sure. The Caretaker chose you to succeed her. You have all the time in the world to decide.”

  “Thanks.” I was a horrible person to begrudge an old lady who died in her sleep but I did. Restless, troubled by the idea I’d never see Teyan again, I stood. “I’m going to walk around and see if my phone charger happened to survive.”

  “Good luck.” Carey leaned back against a pile of wood. “I can get us a ride to town if you want.”

  I lifted my leg, where the ankle bracelet was still attached. “So can I,” I replied ruefully.

  I walked away from him and circled the house again. There had been no basement, so I wasn’t worried about falling into a cellar and breaking my leg if I ventured into the charred home. In truth, I had no hopes of finding my charger or clothing but needed some time and space to think about my immediate future.

  My gaze went to the end of the driveway and the fence that ran along the road. I didn’t understand how the portal between worlds worked but I doubted any interplanetary visitor was headed this way again, not until there was somewhere to stay.

  Circling the house, I sighed unhappily when I walked through the space where my beautiful garden had been. I’d done one thing right in my life – and it, too, was gone.

  I reached the scorched porch and paused, staring with no small amount of incredulity at the front door. Inching closer, I was able to confirm it hadn’t been touched by fire at all – even though the flooring beneath it, around it, and everything else was ashes. The heavy, thick wooden door that hadn’t ever fit right for the farmhouse remained when nothing else did. It seemed taller than it was, too, close to twelve feet when I knew for a fact the ceiling of the foyer was about nine feet tall.

  Carefully making my way through the remains of the porch, I opened the front door and peered through it and across the backyard to Carey, who was on his phone, probably getting us a ride.

  I stepped through carefully and stood in the foyer, gazing around in disappointment as I recalled how many times I’d opened the door for visiting aliens. I imagined the sitting parlors to my right and the stairs to my left and the kitchen down the hall, straight ahead.

  I may have been upset, but I wasn’t going to miss the house itself. More the constant buzz of activity, the relatively simple life I’d led while here, and of course, my garden. I didn’t look forward to returning to New York to a real halfway house or worse – to jail. I kind of liked the open skies and quietness of the desert, despite the mid morning heat that was already uncomfortably warm. The prospect of losing this – and any chance of seeing Teyan again – filled me with an unexpected sense of loss.

  Turning to face the front door, I tugged it closed and gazed up at it, unable to fathom how it had possibly escaped any damage whatsoever. Even the post-it note remained taped beside the bolt.

  “Do not lock,” I read aloud.

  Anger displaced my dismay. Was this how I was meant to live? Going from place to place and being forced to leave before I could get comfortable? I’d known no real peace since my seventeenth birthday.

  Actually, longer. Since my father’s death left us destitute and scraping by. I’d had a job since I was fourteen, and my mother worked two shifts to make ends meet.

 

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