The door swung open at the Sage's gesture. Lessia, still nude, stood on the other side of it.

"Clothes were offered," the Sage said dryly.

"Offer was turned down," Lessia replied with a grin. "Maybe it's just being here, or maybe it's the company, but I just prefer being nude. Besides, Emily's still naked, so why not me?"

Emily shrugged. "What can I say, it's a comfortable way to be. Besides, if the other woman in the tube is any indication, I'm going to be naked for a while."

"I doubt that our friend here has any objections. I see where his eyes go."

The Sage shrugged. "I'm not blind. You two are gorgeous. Where else would I look?"

"I don't compare to the exotic Wanderer." Lessia flushed with pleasure.

Emily scoffed. "You compare very well, thank you."

"The wisdom of Sages is such," the Sage said, "that I will not step into such a discussion, short of saying that you are both stunning, and I would be more than honoured to have either of you here, let alone both."

"Then," Lessia said a bit petulantly as she walked into the room, "why haven't you taken advantage of the two beautiful naked women you keep in your home?"

Emily nodded. "I saw how easily you controlled Lessia when we first arrived, and even if my collar prevents that sort of magic, you were able to manipulate me pretty effectively all the same. So why—"

"We've already discussed this," the Sage interrupted. "Why are you both so—"

"Determined?" Lessia finished with a grin. "Because it's fun, and you obviously enjoy it as much as we do."

"I said the same thing earlier," Emily agreed. "It's no good, he's obstinate." She put an arm of support around Lessia's shoulders. "We'll just have to comfort each other, if he won't do it."

"Grant's more than willing to show us a good time, too," Lessia said, her own arm slipping around Emily's waist.

"If the Sage isn't interested in joining in the fun, that's his loss."

"If you two are quite finished," the Sage said, apparently unperturbed, "we can discuss breaking a kidnapping ring."

"Always work," Emily sighed. "Do you know, we were alone in the garden for quite a while, and I was dressed like this, and I still couldn't get a rise out of him?"

Lessia snickered. "Some people have no taste."

The Sage let out a slow breath. "In better circumstances, I would be happy to take either or both of you to bed. These aren't those. So while I can give the two of you, and Grant, all the time you need to have all the fun you want, I can't join in just yet."

Lessia stepped away from Emily's side and took the Sage's free hand in her own. "But you will join in."

The hint of a smile crossed the man's face. "Undoubtedly."

Lessia leaned in and planted a kiss on the Sage's lips, which he returned without hesitation. She pulled back and stepped away. "For later," she said.

Emily grinned, watching the two of them. "Should I also—"

"Let's just move on," the Sage replied, sounding a touch flustered. He held up the two silver hoops in his hand. "Have I explained these to you, Lessia?"

Lessia looked at them curiously. "You... did, I think?" She seemed confused. "There was..." She looked at Emily. "You, and Grant, and I, and then the two of you headed off, and there was... you? We had a conversation, I think, but it's strange and fuzzy."

The Sage nodded. "That's what I have to do next, which is why it's fuzzy, because what I say there depends on what happens here. I would expect that by the time we finish this conversation it will be quite clear."

Lessia looked to Emily, who shrugged. "I don't play with timelines," the Wanderer explained. "I haven't got a clue how it works."

"Tell Emily what you know," the Sage suggested, holding the hoops out.

Lessia frowned. "A-alright," she stammered, taking the silver bands. She examined them closely, then held up one. "This is the... uh... the 'Projector,'" she said, "and when someone wears it, they can send... no, they don't have the choice, do they? Whoever's wearing the 'Receiver,'" she held up the other band, "is able to... I think you used the term, 'tune in?' Ah, anyway, the Receiver can find the Projector's emotion and strong thoughts. But there was something else... about the Projector." She looked at the first silver band again. To Emily, the two seemed identical, but obviously Lessia was seeing something she wasn't. "If... If I put this on..." Lessia looked at the Sage. "Once it's on... it doesn't come off? The Receiver can, but not..."

The Sage nodded. "There is a long and complex ritual that will remove it, but otherwise, like with Emily's collar, it will not come off once it's on. The Receiver can be easily transferred, meanwhile."

"How do I remember that if you haven't told me yet?"

"I have told you. Or, rather, you have been told. I just haven't done it yet, from my point of view. And from Emily's, you and Grant are still waiting for her in your room."

Emily winced. "Does... that mean that there are three Lessias wandering around?"

"Probably more," the Sage nonchalantly replied. "I wouldn't be surprised to find a few Emilys, too, and at least one extra Grant, if we went looking. The important part is reintegration; by the time you leave here, there's just going to be one of each of you, and making sure of that is my job."

"A pity." Lessia grinned. "The things I could do with a whole horde of Emilies..."

"If there was a horde of us," Emily laughed, "why would we need you?"

"Because of what I can do," Lessia replied with a wink. "Besides which, there's already a bunch of me running around, right?"

"Ooh, maybe we need a room of our own. A place for all the Emily-clones and the Lessia-clones to just sit back and..."

Lessia chuckled. "Sit back and rest?"

"Exactly what I was thinking," Emily replied, making it clear that it was not what she had in mind.

The Sage cut in. "Aside from the fact that having your timelines cross themselves is exceedingly complex, involving huge amounts of temporo-mechanical mathematics and a not-insignificant application of both magic and technology, which is why I work so hard to avoid just that happening..." He paused. "That would be great fun."

Emily shifted over beside the Sage and put her arm across his shoulders. "Come on, you can't tell me that you've never used your world-shifting, time-warping powers for a little orgy now and again."

The Sage's blush was a bit of a surprise. "Perhaps, as a younger man, I might've."

"Ooh, sounds like there's a story there," Lessia said. "Got details to share?"

"Not right now, no," he replied. "At any rate, your recollection, fuzzy though it was, was accurate. The Projector will go on Emily's wrist, the Receiver on yours, Lessia, and when the time is right, Emily will be able to send us messages, and we'll be able to do the same in return. Which will allow us to advise her on what to do and, through Grant, to get to her to help out if needed."

"What are you waiting for, then?" Emily asked, holding her left arm out towards Lessia. "Put the Projector on me."

"Alright," Lessia said and, without hesitation, pushed the bracelet over the Wanderer's hand and up to her wrist. A sudden chill ran through Emily's body. An image flashed through her mind of

a trek through the snow

a crystal gate twenty feet high

a dozen shadows behind her

behind her, supporting her,

as she kneels and

her right arm rises

the bracelet upon it catching

the sun and reflecting light

over the translucent bars, seeing

the gate swing open and

"Emily?" Lessia's voice cut through the vision.

The Wanderer looked up at the local girl, seeing her concerned expression over her ample bosom. She realized that she was out of breath, and on her knees. She inhaled deeply.

"Are you alright?"

Emily nodded, a little reluctantly, taking Lessia's unspoken offer to help her get to her feet. "I was just... a touch... overwhelmed."

The Sage was there behind her, steadying her. "There is an interaction at play here, between the bracelet and the collar, that I hadn't anticipated. I apologize."

Emily's legs shook as she got to her feet, and she realized that it was both with exhaustion from the effect of the vision and with a shocking arousal, she same forceful need she had felt the morning when the collar had appeared. She fought to keep to her feet, and to keep control of her hands; gripping tight to Lessia's arm accomplished both tasks, though the act surprised the other girl and nearly pulled her off-balance. Their eyes met.

Lessia knew.

Emily looked down. The Receiver was on Lessia's left arm. Emily could see by the flush in her face and feel by the sweat on her arm that Lessia was just as aroused as she was, and by the grip of that free hand on her own arm. The two of them clutched each other for a moment, Lessia's arousal feeding Emily's, and Emily's state being projected onto Lessia.

And there was the Sage to consider. His grip had shifted as well. Emily could feel his hand on her chest, between her breasts and her collar, and could feel Lessia's eyes on his hand. She could feel his other hand, too, steadying her with a firm grip on her ass. Perhaps more firm than was entirely necessary. Perhaps he wasn't immune to the mood in the room, or the energy of the Projector, or...

"Now is not the time," he muttered.

Emily felt Lessia's grip change, soften, heard her breathing grow calm, saw her stance steady and her gaze grow distant.

"Ruining the moment?" Emily asked with a grin, still very turned on. "Or maybe you just want me for yourself?"

"Emily," the Sage and Lessia said in unison, "take a deep breath and calm down."

The collar's warmth blended with her own and Emily took not just the demanded breath but several, releasing her grip on Lessia, standing up and letting the Sage's hands fall away. Whether his voice or Lessia's drove her compulsion, she couldn't tell, and it didn't matter. She felt herself cooling off despite the warmth about her neck.

"If I wasn't going to act," the Wanderer said, turning to face the Sage, "I think I needed to hear that." She felt as calm as she ever had.

"I could feel things getting out of hand," the Sage replied. "I needed to reassert—"

"Control?" Emily asked with a smirk, putting her hand on the Sage's chest. "You do seem to find interesting ways to be the one in charge." She looked over her shoulder at where Lessia was still standing, leaning towards an Emily that had stepped out of position. "What have you done to her?"

The Sage smiled. "Nothing new or unusual."

"Good." Emily pressed herself against the Sage and kissed him fiercely. He responded in kind, and the two of them danced briefly across the floor. Emily landed a bit roughly in one of the armchairs. The Sage's hands held her shoulders to the plush backing of the furniture as his mouth sought hers again. He tasted of spice, for some reason, hints of salt and garlic and other savoury scents, familiar and not, deep and homey and pleasant. She strained against his hands, not because she wanted him to let her go, but because she wanted him to pin her down and hold her more solidly. He obliged, putting a knee on her leg to keep her from squirming, his weight shifting even more onto her body.

"Is it time?" she managed to gasp between breaths.

"No," he replied before once more kissing her.

"Is this dangerous?"

"Very," he said as his grip shifted to her sides and his mouth to her breast.

Emily hissed in delight. "Are you going to stop?"

He paused a moment. "Do you want me to?"

"No."

Apparently needing no further invitation, his knees slid to her sides, and his body pressed down towards hers. He was still clothed, but that didn't make the contact unexciting. He kissed her again, and again, for what felt like hours, as his hands played over her bare body, teasing and exciting her. A slight shift in position brought one hand to her breast, and the other to play delightfully between her legs. She didn't have room to spread her knees, so he could only slip one finger slowly up and down against her lower lips. Still, the effect was powerful, especially because the Wanderer couldn't lift her legs to press into his hand.

"Nng," Emily gasped. "You've ... Mmn, done this... before..."

The Sage's only response was to kiss her again, and again, his finger adeptly driving her further and further into—

Memories. Déjà vu. The Sage had done this before. To her. In his before, perhaps, or in his not-quite-yet before, or maybe he would do this in a future that hadn't happened yet, or a past that didn't happen, but even though she couldn't remember everything about the details, the sensations were perfectly familiar. The experience was powerfully resonating across her present, whenever it came from, and in the dim corner of her vision and hearing she could tell that Lessia, enchanted though she was, was/would be/had been feeling it too.

"Where I cannot," he said, and his finger curled, and she moaned, "and what I must not," he continued, stroking her clitoris in a way that would have driven her to her knees had she been standing, and had already or would again, "she will."

Emily didn't understand but then didn't really need to. There was pleasure, and that was what mattered. Lessia's touches and kisses blended with the Sage's, and Grant's, and ... perhaps others', as well. All of them, even those who she didn't recognize, were familiar, who were or would be known to her at some point. There were words, directions, from people she trusted, and kisses from a Bard, and Lessia's very familiar touch between her legs, and finally her own mouth on Grant's member, his soft hands in her hair, with Lessia knelt behind her and wrapped around, the local kissing the back of her neck and fondling her breasts and reaching down between her legs. All three of them were moaning and gasping and panting, and with the first signs of Grant's peaking, Emily felt her own orgasm approaching at breakneck speed.

She felt Lessia clutching at her almost desperately. The cool silver on her left arm drew her attention; that hadn't been there when she entered the room, but that hardly mattered. She felt a similar coolness across her chest, from Lessia wearing its mate as her left arm dug into her belly. Sexual energy exploded within her and she came hard as Grant filled her mouth and Lessia tightened around her almost hard enough to hurt. The three of them remained in that place for a moment as their collective orgasm settled, giving Lessia a chance to relax, Emily a chance to swallow, and Grant a moment to release the Wanderer and catch his breath.

"This thing," Lessia gasped, gesturing vaguely at the silver bracelet on her arm, "is amazing. Grant, you should..."

Grant shook his head. "I need a lens through which to view other people's emotions. Getting them raw seems... overmuch. For a Bard, or at least for this Bard." He smiles. "Maybe I'll try it sometime for a bit of a ... less intense experience. Meanwhile... that was a really intense experience as it was."

"Mm, definitely," Emily said, leaning her head on the bed. "Transcendent." She smiled and looked at her arm.

"It does go well with the collar." Grant pet her hair lightly and chuckled. "I think we may need another bath."

Lessia flopped spread-eagle on the floor. "I'm not sure I have the energy for that," she laughed.

Emily climbed up on the bed. "We ought to rest. We have a busy day ahead. I think."

"We have a plan to infiltrate a slaving operation. At some point." Grant stretched out next to her.

"At some point," Lessia repeated with a little giggle. "Seems like with the Sage around that could be anything from twenty minutes to next year."

"If we wanted to wait a year, he could probably make it happen," Grant agreed, "although I think he wants to get moving on it fairly soon."

"I wouldn't mind spending a year or two here in the lap of luxury."

Emily thought about that for a moment. "I think it'd wear out before that. I like going other places."

Grant put his hand in hers. "I could handle a year of this."

"Me too," Lessia said, getting up from the ground.

Grant helped her onto the bed. "You just want to do everything, don't you."

"And everyone," Emily laughed, and Lessia joined her.

Grant slid up a bit towards the pillows. "Well," he said, "if we're not operating on our own timelines, I think I'm going to get a little rest before the big hike. Whenever the big hike might be."

"Sounds like a great idea." Lessia followed him. "Emily, come snuggle up with us."

The collar grew warm, and Emily found herself sandwiched between her lovers, sleepily contemplating what was to come next, and that was how she woke up some time later.

Emily was a bit surprised to feel motion on either side of her as she awoke. She hadn't been moved, neither of her friends had been enchanted, everything was just as it was when she'd fallen asleep. No Sage was in the room giving them directions, either. Just three naked people waking up in one bed, on top of the covers, together.

Grant stretched first, but Emily could feel Lessia stirring beside her as well. "That was a fantastic sleep," the Bard said.

"Agreed," Lessia replied. She kissed Emily's shoulder before rolling aside. "Ready to face a new day." She got to her feet and walked to the window. "A new day where one friend will be frozen and shipped off to a slave colony, and another one will die."

"Temporarily," Grant added, also getting up. "For both those."

"I hope so," Emily said, sitting. "I mean, we know yours will be."

Lessia turned back. "Should I be more... afraid? I just feel like maybe we should take it more seriously."

"You trust me?" the Wanderer asked.

Lessia nodded.

"You trust Grant?"

"Sure."

"And the Sage?"

"... maybe."

Grant laughed. "Good answer."

Emily grinned. "And you know we're going to do everything we can to be safe, and keep you and each other safe, so there's nothing to worry about."

"I suppose, but..." Lessia shrugged. "I feel like I should be more worried than I am."

Grant smiled across the room. "That just means that you trust us a lot."

Lessia laughed, without a lot of joy. "I'm not even the one in danger. I get to stay safe here."

"Until time comes for a rescue," Emily pointed out. "Then, who knows?"

"That shouldn't be a comfort, but somehow..."

Emily scooted to the edge of the bed, got up, and wrapped Lessia in a hug. "Anything you take comfort from is good. Take it from a Wanderer."

Lessia giggled against her chest. "Thanks. I'll do that."

"I'm serious," Emily said as they disentangled themselves, a smile on her face. "We spend our time moving from place to place, so whatever comforts we can get... Harban's rooms, the laughter of the kids at the manor, the cottage in the woods... The bath, the supper, the bed, and the company here... Actually, my stay on this world has been incredibly comfortable, compared to some."

Grant chuckled. "This is my kind of stay," he said. "Especially given the company."

"I..." Lessia took a breath. "If... If I said that I didn't want to go, would..."

Emily and Grant looked at each other and smiled. "If you're more comfortable here," Emily said, "I know you're going to be part of the rescue."

Lessia nodded. "I'm definitely going to be there for that, but... but I think that I've had enough walking in the woods, and I want to enjoy the comforts here for a while."

"That's perfectly fine," Grant said. "This life isn't for everyone."

"Oh, parts of it I love! The excitement, the adventure, the..." She blushed. "All the things we've got up to."

"People need a break sometimes, especially when we're new to it. You've been through a lot."

"Sure have," Emily agreed. "After my first trip, I needed a full month to get back on my feet. No injuries, I just... needed some time to adapt. Now..." She shrugged. "Now it's just my way of life, but it took a long time to get here."

Lessia gave Emily another hug. "Thanks for understanding."

Emily kissed the top of her head. "See you soon, don't worry."

"Weird, I'm really not all that worried." Lessia sat on the side of the bed. "I think I just need a break."

"If you've never been on this sort of adventure, it's been a bit of a whirlwind. Even for me."

Grant laughs. "I've only been on half the adventure, I gather, but it's still a lot, and there's more to come." He moves to join the women on their side of the bed. "Take a break. Relax. There will be time for more exercise soon enough."

Lessia flops down on the bed on her back. "Thanks for understanding. I was worried you wouldn't want me to be part of this if I... or that you'd think I was scared or something."

Grant sat next to her, his hand gently rubbing her belly. "You're not scared, you're tired. We get it."

"We do," Emily agreed. She looked around. "Should we... get ready?"

"Probably." The Bard got to his feet. He seemed about to say something more when the door opened.

The Sage walked in. "Seems like about the time to get ready for a stroll in the forest," he said lightly. He was already dressed and wearing a small, seemingly empty backpack over his plaid shirt. "What do you all need?"

"Clothes, food, water," Emily replied with a shrug. "It's not that far but it's good to be prepared."

"We shouldn't have any troubles, between a Wanderer, a Bard, and a Sage, all traveling together," Grant pointed out.

The Sage looked at Lessia, who rolled onto her front and lifted her head to meet his eyes. "I'm not going," she said. "Too tired."

He nodded knowingly. "I understand. And you two?"

"Ready to move out," Emily said, snapping a salute and grinning.

Grant moved to stand behind her and put his hands on her shoulders. "I'm not in a rush, but I don't really want to put it off, either. The longer it waits, the longer I have to think about it."

Lessia sighed dramatically, sitting up. "I'll just be lonely until you get back."

The Sage smiled a bit. "I promise you it'll pass in the blink of an eye."

Lessia giggled. "I bet. So are you putting me to sleep, or...?"

He held out a hand to the young woman. "Come with me." He turns to the other two as Lessia takes his hand and rises to her feet. "You two will find clothing in the wardrobe; take anything you like. I'll be back in a few minutes."

"I rather like you dressed as you are now," Grant said as the Sage and Lessia left the room.

Emily blushed and stepped out of his light grip. "You'll get to see me like this as long as you like, I'm sure," she said. "It was rough enough moving through the forest topless, naked and barefoot might just be miserable."

The Bard laughed. "Okay, that's a fair point. Let's see what we've got here, then..."

After a few minutes of trying on outfits, both of them had settled on some fairly simple garb, Emily in a familiar-feeling white skirt and blouse, and Grant in canvas trousers and a well-spun green shirt. "I always love finding the fashions of new worlds," Grant said, reaching for a pair of leather shoes. "It's amazing how different they can be."

Emily grinned at that. "Ever been to a nude world?"

"Can't say that I have, at least not a completely nude one. Went to one for a while with a nude class, where the amount of clothing you wear is a sign of how rich you are, and those worst-off just wore nothing at all beyond what they needed for working." Grant sat on the edge of the bed and started to put on the shoes. "It was a little ridiculous, since the whole world was essentially tropical, so wearing less clothing was far more comfortable, and often safer. You'd often see large, rich men dressed in layers and layers of clothing sitting on soft benches by the roadside, practically passed out from the heat."

Emily giggled at the thought, slipping on good boots that very closely resembled those she'd taken off when she and Grant had first arrived in the room. They fit her feet slightly differently, as though they hadn't been fully broken in yet, but they weren't uncomfortable in the least. "I've been a couple places with odd customs, but not that one."

The Sage came back into the room then. "All ready?"

Emily nodded. "Let's go."

Grant stood up and headed to the door leading outside. Emily followed.

"I'll just carry the food, then?" the Sage asked, sounding amused.

Grant laughed. "It's your journey, you get to haul the gear."

Emily looked back at him. The backpack he wore seemed to be very light, practically empty. "Doesn't seem to be much of a burden."

The Sage gave her a wink. "Let's just get on our way, then."

There had been no strange movement through time, no odd distortions of reality, just a lovely morning walk on a warm but cloudy day. Following the home-charm gave Emily a perfect sense of direction, and she easily led the two men in a straight line across the open plain, and at the edge of the forest they paused for lunch. Despite having nothing in it, to all outward appearance, the Sage's backpack easily produced a variety of cold-served vegetables and meats when they paused for lunch. The backpack had even contained a ewer full of fresh, clear water, larger than could possibly have been contained in such a small space, and a brass ladle to drink from. The three of them dug in quickly.

"I definitely need one of those backpacks," Grant said, patting his stomach in satisfaction.

"You're in the wrong profession, I'm afraid," the Sage replied. "I made it myself, but it's hardly unique. This one only works for me. A lot of Sage gear only works for the Sage that put it together."

Emily swallowed a bit of carrot. "Some Wanderers have similar things, but I've never seen one that holds so much."

"Nor are you likely to, among Wanderers." The Sage sounds a bit smug. "Wanderers tend to aim towards survival and mobility, Bards more towards creature comforts. Sages like to be infinitely prepared."

"Sounds so very dull," Grant said, and they all laughed. "What's life without a surprise now and again?"

"There's still plenty of excitement to be had, trust me."

"So from here," Emily started, "we just head into the forest and find the campsite?"

The Sage nodded. "I'll take Grant's equipment back home, and Grant can put you in the stasis tube. Assuming it's what I think it is."

"What if it isn't?"

"Then we don't do that."

Grant grinned. "Simple, right?"

Emily grinned back, munching thoughtfully on a piece of celery. "Maybe it's good that Lessia didn't come. I mean, you're about to basically send me to be kidnapped by slavers, and then Grant's going to die, and we're sitting around having a fine meal and making jokes. She might not understand."

"I think she'd understand," Grant replied. "She'd probably think it was a little morbid, though."

Emily nodded. "Yeah, that's the one. I don't think she'd be as... cheerful about this."

"You're both right," the Sage said. "She's already concerned about this. A victory, without enduring harm to either of you, would go a long way."

"Then let's not lose."

"Agreed."

Grant got to his feet. "Bard, Wanderer, and Sage." He stretched and sighed. "No force across the worlds can interfere."

The Sage shook his head. "You might be surprised what's out there."

"Don't ruin my moment, bookworm," the Bard laughed.

"You'll have plenty of time for heroics later," Emily replied, also standing up. "And I promise I'll give them the respect and adulation they're due."

Grant gave her a wink. "Fantastic, I look forward to it."

"Time to move on?" The Sage asked, picking up his pack.

"I think so."

Emily focused on her home-charm again as Grant and the Sage packed everything back into the impossibly-small container. She was easily able to determine the direction of the camp. The path, on the other hand, was more of a challenge. "Are there any good Sage or Bard tricks to go through forests?" she asked.

"Bard tricks?" Grant laughed again. "We try to stay away from forests. I know a few fun tricks for fast escapes through alleyways, but..."

The Sage got up and put on his backpack. "I can shape and change the forest over years, but I can't just make a path today, sadly."

Emily nodded. "So do we go around, or through?"

"Around," the two men said simultaneously. "As much as possible," Grant added.

"You two aren't up to a little stroll through the trees?" The Wanderer teased gently. "Let's find a clear way, then."

It took them a few tries, but eventually they found a fairly clear way that went more or less in the right direction. "The way down was easier," Grant complained, pushing branches aside.

"The way down was a lot longer, too," Emily retorted, "and a lot twistier. And last time, we were moving through time as well, and that doesn't really provide a fair comparison."

"You were walking back on paths you'd already walked," the Sage added. "Those are always—" He paused, ducking to avoid a swinging tree branch, "—easier."

Grant sighed. "I suppose we can't just do that again."

"We need to be there—ow!—in the present, not in the past."

"Couldn't we get there in the past and wait for the present to catch up? Oh wait, let me guess—"

"That's not how this works," the two of them said together.

Emily laughed, leading them ably through the woods without any trouble. "Sages spend too much time in their libraries, and Bards are too often in the taverns. You both need to be out in the world more."

"I don't know about him," Grant said with a thumb over his shoulder aimed at the Sage, "but there's a lot of the world in the taverns."

"Oh, I know, I've been in a few myself," Emily replied, "but there's something about the journey, more than the destination. A tavern's a nice place to end your day, not to spend it."

The Sage grunts. "Wanderer aphorisms."

"As though Sages don't have a hundred thousand of their own," Grant complained.

"Just like Bards."

Emily giggled. "Pretty sure we all have sayings for just about any occasion." She pushed past the last trees and underbrush to break once more into the clearing where Grant had been camping.

"What are your sayings for this situation?" Grant asked. "I don't think the Bards have one."

The Sage crossed into the clearing. "Huh."

"Words for the ages."

Emily walked up to the glass tubes. Nothing appeared to have changed in however long it had been since she and Grant had been here before. The magnitude of what was about to happen dawned on her. She was just going to hop from one adventure to another, really, she tried to rationalize, and it certainly wasn't the first time she'd been in that sort of danger.

"It is as Emily described," the Sage was saying. "Bedroll, warming crystal, and..."

"Girl in glass," the Bard concluded.

The Sage picked up the warming crystal, staring at it with a critical eye. "Emily, you're right about this device, keeps away cold, insects, predators, rain and snow. And I doubt that it's a Bard or a Sage creation."

"What about the rest?" Grant asked.

"Bedroll's a bedroll."

"Thank you, damnable bookworm. What about the mechanism and the girl?"

The Sage turned his gaze to the strange stasis device standing over the Wanderer. He shrugged. "Give me a few minutes to examine it thoroughly. Don't want to make any mistakes."

Grant nodded. "Makes sense."

Emily paid only a little attention to them as she considered the situation. No sense in wasting time. She started to unbutton the blouse she'd taken from the Sage's wardrobe.

"In a hurry?" the Sage asked, walking up beside her.

"No, but not putting anything off." Emily slipped the blouse. "Doesn't really bother me if either of you see." She snickered as the blouse fell, leaving her in a white breastband. "Again."

"Don't think I'll join you this time," Grant said. "Much as I'd like to. Other things on the mind."

"No worries." She slips off her boots. "I have other things on the mind, too."

An uneasy silence fell over the clearing, while Emily undressed and the Sage examined the base of the tubes. Grant, lacking anything better to do, started to fold up the bedroll.

"Just another way of Wandering," Emily said, slipping her panties off and standing fully nude in the shadow of the stasis device. "Nothing really to worry about."

Grant coughed. "Not entirely convinced of that."

Emily laughed. "It's not you that has to be convinced, is it."

The Sage stood from where he'd been crouched down. "I can't find anything unusual about it. It's keyed with a code to open, and there's no way to let someone out once they're in without breaking the machine."

"Not too late to do that, then," Grant offered. "Break the device, let her out, walk away..."

"I don't think either of us are seriously considering that," Emily said.

Grant shook his head. "Definitely not. But the offer had to be made."

"I know." She smiled, then, and walked across the small clearing to kiss him. He responded warmly, his expert hands exploring her bare body with practiced ease, caressing her, exciting her. After what felt like several minutes, they took a breath and noticed the Sage had departed, leaving them alone.

"Where do you suppose he's gone?" the Bard asked.

Emily shrugged and slipped her hands down the back of his pants to grasp his ass, pulling him into another kiss.

At the next pause, Grant continued, "Giving us a moment of privacy?"

"Could be." Emily stepped back, breathing heavily. "I think if I don't get in there now..."

Grant nodded. "Now we just have to figure it out." He looked around again. "You can come out, if you're still here," he called into the woods.

Emily turned to the holding tubes, and noticed something odd on the front of the occupied cell, carefully placed to obscure the dark-skinned occupant's genitals. "I think he's left us a note."

Grant followed the line of Emily's gaze. "I guess he knew where we'd be looking."

Emily giggled a bit and pulls the paper off the tube. "I was right, it's a note. Would you like to..." She holds it out to him.

"Sure, but why?" Grant takes the page lightly.

"Because it's addressed to you, and the first thing it says is—"

"'Emily, do not read this.' Ah, I see." He grins. "It goes on, 'And Grant, do not read aloud past this point.' One moment."

The Wanderer nodded and returned to her examination, the fourth or fifth time that she's taken a look at the woman she believes to be one of her own, wondering just what the whole of her story is. Perhaps she would find out.

"Ah, okay," the Bard said behind her. Emily turned to see him smile over the page. "Emily, please walk into the tube."

The collar felt warm. Against her intent and even her common sense, Emily turned around and walked straight into the glass cylinder next to the one that held the dark-skinned woman.

Straight into the glass—and straight through it.

It wasn't solid, not in any sense she could make out, not when the order was given. But when she turned around in the container to face Grant, the glass before, behind, and beside her was as solid as before he'd told her to go in.

"Apparently," the Bard said, loudly, and she could still barely hear him, "it has a way of checking if someone's under mind control or not. Useful thing, that collar."

He grinned at her. She tried to grin back, but nerves were starting to get to her, as was a bit of claustrophobia. Wanderers like the open air, not enclosed—

"Emily!" Grant shouted, looking down at the paper. "Don't worry about me, or yourself."

The collar was warm. Emily took a deep breath. Grant, Lessia, the Sage... her life was in good hands.

Grant reached down below her line of sight, and she felt herself lifted up as though she was weightless, and then she felt herself get cold but not uncomfortable, and then the world went black.