I caught up to Misa a few yards ahead. It was quite dark and the light from the candles did not reach too far. Still, the space felt immense and grand. “This is pretty cool,” I said.
“The temperature is nice,” agreed Misa. “However, you really need to see it to appreciate it. Just watch.” We stood before a waist-high outcropping of rock on the otherwise flat floor. Misa reached down with her candle, and suddenly a bright white light flared up. A blue-white flame shone from an opening in the top of the outcropping, illuminating the entire cavern.
It was amazing. In the light from the flame, I could see that the cavern was enormous. It was at least fifty yards wide, and I couldn’t even see how far back from the entrance it extended. Above us, the ceiling of the space stretched like a vast dome. At its highest point, it looked to be thirty or forty feet high. Pinpoints of light sparkled from the ceiling – tiny flakes of some crystalline mineral that reflected the light from the flame. It was like standing under a moonless sky at night. My breath caught in my throat.
“It is very beautiful, is it not?” asked Misa.
“It’s amazing!” I said. “You could sell tickets! People would pay to see this.”
Misa shot me a dirty look. “Absolutely not!” she said. “This is my own personal space – even the boys don’t come back here very often. You are the first person outside of my family that I have ever brought back here. I hope that I won’t regret that decision.”
“No, no,” I said, holding up my hands. Clearly, I had misspoken – especially about selling tickets. “I would certainly never, you know, blab about this. It’s just so … wonderful! Thank you for sharing it with me.”
“You are welcome, Scott Gray,” she said. “I know to trust my instincts, and they told me that I should bring you here and show you the Font of Light. We should palaver – there are many questions I have to ask you. I suspect that you may have a few for me, too, eh?”
This was absolutely true. Even Rocko hadn’t been able to shed much light on my situation – I hoped that Misa might have more useful information. For some reason, I felt reluctant to tell Misa about Rocko. I wasn’t entirely sure why. Maybe it was because I still didn’t entirely trust Misa and her brothers. They were, after all, a roving gang of thieves. Sure, they had decided not to harm me, but they could just as easily change their minds once Misa had gotten her questions answered. Maybe after out “palaver” I would tell Misa about Rocko, but right now I felt safer keeping that information to myself.
“Okay,” I said. “Let’s talk.”
“Good,” said Misa. “Let’s get comfortable.” She picked up her candle and led me to a nook in the corner of the cave. There were some fine-looking rugs and pillows piled there. She used the candle to light a lantern that was hanging from a metal peg driven into the rock. “Have a seat,” she said.
I lowered myself onto a mound of pillows. They were very comfy, and I could almost immediately feel myself wanting to nod off. It had been a long time since I had had a good night’s rest – or a good meal. I suspected that once I got some hot food inside me I would not be awake for long. I hoped that it wouldn’t be too long, as my stomach was starting to growl again.
“What do you want to know?” I asked.
“Everything,” she said. “Tell me about how you came here.”
I gave her the same narrative that I had given Rocko – it was getting to be second nature at this point. Misa seemed very interested in Missy McSween, and especially that last evening outside of the roller rink in my adolescent version of Weaverville.
“You said that you know Missy from my world,” I said. “How is that even possible?”
“We talk to each other in dreams,” she said. “There are others, but Missy is the closest. Her world is the closest. Does that make sense?”
My initial reaction was that it absolutely does not make sense, but was that really true? In a matter of days, I’d gone from a loser Seattle bar-bag to some sort of interdimensional traveler. Clearly, the mysterious Dr. Wu was involved somehow. He had shown up in my retro-Weaverville – could he show up here, too? Probably. And I wasn’t sure that I’d be sad to see him, either. The only way to get back to what I thought of as my “real” life – imperfect though that might be – would be through Wu’s machinations. I thought about asking Misa about Wu, but she seemed fixated on Missy McSween.
“How did you meet up with Missy?” she asked. “When you last spoke with her, that is.”
“I had gone to the mall – the bazaar – with my friends, but we got into a fight. I made the mistake of telling them what had happened to me. They didn’t believe me, of course. I stormed off and ran into Missy. I told her what had happened, and she believed me right away. I was so relieved to meet someone who didn’t think I was crazy. I met her at the roller rink that night.”
“What did Missy talk with you about that night?”
“Uh, I don’t remember that well,” I said. “Y’see, this guy Brock kinda jumped me. I had thrown his bully ass around at school the day before, and he wanted payback. He had a zip gun – a weapon – but I talked him out of using it. He probably would have hurt himself more than me if he’d actually shot it. So, I was a little spun out by the time I met up with Missy.” This was true, but I still remembered my conversation with Missy just fine. I just felt a little gross about it still. Well, there was no harm in telling her the truth. From the way she was giving me an avid side-eye, she probably suspected the truth anyway.
“What about Missy?” she said.
“She wanted me to, um, deflower her.”
“Deflower?”
“To take her virginity, OK?”
Misa leaned back, looking amused. “And did you?” she asked.
“No!”
“Why not? Are you a girlie-man?”
“No!” I said. I could feel a flush rising in my cheeks, and it made me even madder than her question did. “I’m not gay!”
“Yes, I can tell that you are not happy,” said Misa. “I just wanted to know if you preferred the romantic company of other men. There is no reason to get upset.”
“I am not upset!” I said angrily. “I am also not a ‘girlie-man,’ or whatever you call that here.”
Misa had the decency to try to hide her grin. “I believe you, Scott Gray. I am sure you are the manliest of men. I just wanted to know why you did not, ah, avail yourself of a willing young woman when you had the chance.”
“She was thirteen!” I exclaimed. “I couldn’t take advantage of someone so young!”
“But did you not tell me that you yourself were thirteen years of age at that time? She was not young in comparison to you!”
“My body was thirteen. My mind was – and is – fifty. Although it feels like it’s about a thousand years old right now.”
Misa lowered her head and looked up at me through her eyelashes. I have to admit that it was a very fetching look. I could feel the heat from my face starting to migrate downward. “And how about now?” she asked. “How old do you think your body is now? And how does your oh-so-old mind feel about creeching with someone who is much younger, even if not so young as thirteen?”
“Creeching?”
She scrunched up her face in amusement. “You know,” she said. She curled one hand and drove the index finger of the other in and out rapidly.
“Yeah, I get it,” I said. Was she trying to seduce me? Or were the Misas of this world just really forward and earthy? The question was somewhat academic; I was so worn out that I probably wouldn’t have been able to get it up if the Playmate of the Year did a fan dance in front of me with a pair of lace hankies. I sighed. “I don’t know how old my body is,” I said, hoping to avoid her more complicated question. “Since I was the same age as Missy, and you are her analog, I guess I’m the same age as you. And just how old are you, Misa?”
“I have one-and-twenty summers,” she said, moving closer to me. “I guess that your body is the same.” She reached out and gently stroked my bicep. “It is a very nice body, I think.”
I tried to keep my mouth from dropping open, but didn’t entirely accomplish that. “Uh,” I said. “Ah.” My typical response to feminine non-sequiturs. I wasn’t in charge of my mouth or my speech – or my private parts. I was clearly mistaken about not being able to get it up – there was an immediate and emphatic response in my pants to Misa’s touch.
Clearly, she noticed this, and she nodded and slid her hand down to the front of my pants.
Suddenly, there was a commotion from the shed at the front of the cave, followed by a hammering on the wood cabinet that concealed the entrance.
“Not now, boys,” whispered Misa, who continued her investigation of the front of my trousers. Truth be told, I was in no hurry for a distraction at this point, myself.
Unfortunately, the hammering continued, even louder now and there was a babbling of voices on the other side of the cabinet. “Misa! Misa! You need to come quickly!”
She turned her head. “What is it?!” she yelled. “You’re interrupting some very important work!” At this response, the commotion increased. “A dragon, Misa! A dragon! We saw it! It is still flying overhead!”