Not My Fantasy

by Sam Hall

  “And tell you to go to bed? Because that’s what she would say. You can come back at any time.”

  “Don’t you need us?” she asked as Pa enveloped her in his arms. “You looked so sad . . .”

  “Every day and you need your rest. Come back soon, and not just to look through your Nan’s journals.”

  “Of course! I’m sorry. . . .”

  “No need. Come on downstairs. My bed is calling me, too.” When we got to the front door, Pa took the keys from me and tossed them to Tess. “Just got to talk to your sister for a moment. Won’t be a tic.” When she’d gone, he turned to me, brown eyes turning serious, “Your sister, she wants to go through that portal doesn’t she?”

  “Of course, she does, it’s been her life mission since childhood.”

  “Be careful. Your Nan never said anything bad came through that portal, except for some snippy customers, but. . . .”

  “I know, we had to talk her down in the shop. I’ll keep an eye on her, I always do.”

  “My responsible girl. C’mon, give your granddad a hug goodbye.” His arms went around me and I felt the familiar heavy warmth that took me back to being a small child. I hugged him hard, feeling the faint tremor in his arms, realising that he couldn’t crack my ribs anymore. We needed to come by more, and not just for the books. He let me go and gave me a quick kiss on the cheek and then I was heading out in the cold to get back into the car.

  7

  The next morning I woke up with a start. Excalibur! I’d lent Tess my DVD last night before dropping her home, but considering how late it was, she might not have seen it. I looked around my bedroom and saw I was alone. I listened and heard nothing other than the faint hum of traffic and birds chirping outside my window. I got up and wrapped my robe tightly, just in case.

  I ended up being correct. I enjoyed a company-free shower and breakfast so leisurely that Tess rung me to find out where I was.

  “Did you pass out before watching the movie?” I asked.

  “What? No, I didn’t watch the whole thing. It’s over two bloody hours, but I did get at least half an hour in. Plenty of Merlin in it, though can I say, really hoping he doesn’t turn up with the metallic skullcap thing. Actually, you should know whether he has or not. Isn’t he there?”

  “Nope, no one this morning, hence why I’m late. It was lovely to wake up alone in my own apartment. Look, I’m just pulling on my jacket now, I’ll see you in a few, OK?”

  I locked up and ran down the stairs towards the foyer and then stopped mid-flight. There, looking quite bemused, was a young man with tousled blond hair, a massive black, Night Watch-style cloak and some kind of leather armour on. Great, I thought. “Let me guess,” I said, looking at the very large sword at his side, “‘winter is coming’?”

  “I’m sorry?” the man just looked even more confused. “Madam, I’m not sure if you can help me, but my name is Arthur–”

  “Pendragon.”

  A surprised smile splashed across his face, “Why yes, I wasn’t aware my reputation preceded me. My apologies for accosting you in this . . . building, but I am not sure where I am. The signs are not familiar to me and the conveyances you have to travel in are incredibly fast. Some sounded their horns when I tried to wave one down, but they did not stop.”

  “It’s alright, Your Majesty. Come with me, I’ll take you in my . . . conveyance to somewhere where you can get help.”

  “My thanks to you, my lady.”

  “That’s not Merlin,” Tess said when we picked her up outside her place. Her eyes were wide as she slipped into the back seat. “That’s–” she hissed when she looked into the back of the car.

  “My sword, Excalibur, given to me by the–” Arthur said.

  “Lady in the Lake,” Tess said.

  I snuck a look at Arthur who looked almost affronted. “Forgive me for mentioning this, but are you ladies some form of sorcerers? We have just met and yet, you know so much about my existence.”

  “Not sorcerers, we’ve just heard stories about you, Your Majesty.”

  We pulled up to the shop, running late, but I assumed either Jez would have opened up, or there would be no customers waiting for us, so why worry? It was as I parked the car I saw Gabe and his many big muscly friends, standing in front of several trucks, looking pissed. “Oh shit . . .”

  “We were supposed to clear out the book room!” Tess yelped.

  “Yep, we got distracted by dog men and magic portals. Shit, shit, shit, shit! We really need these guys to take this lease. We’ve got to think of something and fast to keep them here.”

  “I am so, so sorry,” I said in my best pleading voice as I got out of the car.

  “My lady, are you in danger? Who are these ruffians?” Arthur asked, trying to open the boot to get at his sword.

  “Lady, did we, or did we not, say we’d meet here today at opening?” Gabe snapped.

  “Yes, I know, but–”

  “Me and my mates have been standing here in the hot sun for over an hour. You’re not answering your phone, and from what I can see, the bookcases are only about half emptied.”

  “Yes, you’re right, but–”

  “Where have you been? Colouring your hair for your next incarnation? And what’s with the guys in the getup? Do you only date blokes who wear cosplay or something?”

  “What? Date?” I turned to see Arthur buckling on his sword. “No, no! Not dating, just helping a guy out. We have some . . . colourful customers and he’s one of them.”

  “Because if we’re getting in the way of something here, we can always find somewhere else.”

  Tess was arguing madly with Arthur, whose body language was starting to get a bit irate. Oh, yes! I thought. The perfect excuse to cover Arthur’s presence and our lateness. “No! Please, no. The guy thinks he’s King Arthur, OK? We try to keep him calm and play along until his carer can come by and get him. That’s why we’re late. The books, well. . . .”

  “We’ve run out of space in the storeroom, but are trying to move them into shelves or some other storage,” Tess supplied helpfully. Arthur paced by the front door, hand on his sword, looking balefully at Gabe. “We didn’t realise how much space we would need for the books. They’re everywhere right now. On every surface in the backroom and the shelves haven’t been sorted in an age. We’ve only just taken over our grandmother’s shop and we’re still finding our feet. She died of vascular dementia.”

  “Oh,” I couldn’t see Gabe’s eyes behind the mirrored sunglasses, but the tension in his body seemed to have leaked out. “Ladies, I’m sorry, I didn’t realise. Look, if we can get inside, my boys and me can start moving the bookcases that are empty. I’ve got a buyer that’s real interested. If they’re genuine oak, you’re looking at $500 a pop.”

  “Whoa, OK, well, let’s get this door open.”

  “Ohmigod I can’t believe that worked!” I hissed once we got everyone inside. Thankfully, Gabe and his guys had disappeared into the book room. Tess grinned widely, doing a little jig but played it cool when they came back, carrying the first bookcase. Well, cool until we saw the way they were being carried. One man on either end, sleeves rolled right back or stripped down to singlets, man after muscly man walked past, tattoos gleaming like jewels on their skin. Our eyes followed them to the door and out until the next pair went past, flicking back and forth like this was some kind of mesmeric loop of manly men.

  “Well, that’s the first load,” Gabe said.

  “Oh!” Tess and I nearly jumped out of our skins. We’d been drooling too much to notice his approach and his grin indicated he’d seen why. Looking at him didn’t help, either. I took a step backwards, then another, as I took in the flannel shirt tied around his waist and the white wife beater stretched across his chest. Whoa, that was a lot of muscle. I found my eyes trailing over the tattoos that peeked out of the singlet, following them down until they became faint shapes under the cotton. The faintest whiff of sandalwood and musk hung around him, making me wan
t to draw closer, drop my head to his chest and breathe deeply. . . . I snapped back to reality. God, get a grip girl!

  “Awesome,” I croaked, trying to clear my throat, then kind of coughing/choking on my own spit. “Sounds great,” I spluttered.

  “Do you want a drink of water?” Tess asked, but I waved her off.

  “Alright, I’ll come back and we’ll see about moving the rest of the books. That OK with you, or was there something else you wanted?”

  I froze. Everything had been ticking along since Gropeygate. I’d been pretending I hadn’t touched him inappropriately and he was letting me. Now he leant over the glass-topped counter, his blond hair falling over his shoulders, looking up at me with eyes filled with one part amusement, one part devilry and God knows how many parts of heat.

  “Uh, no-no, I’m fine,” I said, my tongue tripping over the words.

  “OK, well, you be sure to let me know if you aren’t.”

  “Those men,” Arthur said, approaching the counter, “they are your labourers, are they not?”

  “Not,” I replied. “The tall one is going to rent the space next door and turn it into his own shop. They’re clearing out our old stuff, so they can begin renovations.”

  He sniffed at this but still looked concerned. “And your father, he permits you to work in an establishment with men?”

  “Ah jeez, don’t start her on this,” Tess said, burrowing her head on her arms. We had had many an argument about how fantasy as a genre tended to perpetuate conservative views of gender as pastoral idylls.

  “Things are different here, women have the right to vote and the freedom . . .” I saw Tess waving her hands at me behind his back. She was right, there was little point in getting into this. If I thought I could somehow enlighten the guy and cause a feminist revolution in fictional medieval Britain, I would. Best to leave the suffragettes something to do, I thought with a sigh. “Things are just different.”

  Arthur nodded and looked like he was about to say something when the door to the shop opened with a bang and a tinkle. “Oh, My. God. Thank you, thank you, thank you for the gift that was Prince Charming,” Jez said, standing in the doorway, a picture of a well-satisfied woman, down to the Cheshire Cat grin and the hip-rolling saunter as she walked towards us. “He vanished sometime this morning, but dear God!”

  “Jez–” I said.

  “That man was exceptional, in every way. We need to get the Star Gate up and running, so I can go and pay him a visit in those Eastern Marches.”

  “This woman is boasting of having intercourse with Prince Harold? In your establishment? Women indeed are different here,” Arthur said, his hand straying to Excalibur’s hilt subconsciously before he forced it away. “Now, your request of Merlin?”

  “Merlin?” Jez looked Arthur up and down and then mouthed ‘King Arthur’ at us. We nodded quickly.

  “We have an inter-dimensional portal in our storeroom and we don’t know how to use it, Your Majesty,” Tess said. “We thought Merlin, being a famed wizard of great knowledge, may be able to help us with this.”

  “Is this how I came to be in this realm? You summoned me here to assist with this?” I watched his jaw work as he spoke. I hadn’t really thought about it, but being a noble king and ruler of all Britain, he probably thought us calling him to fix our portal problem was a bit below him. Hell, talking to the greatest wizard of Western history was perhaps a bit of overkill. We could have just stuck our head through the portal again and asked someone on the street for advice or the name of a good wizard. Shit.

  “Ah, yes?”

  “Then I accept your quest and will summon Merlin forthwith,” and with that he pulled Excalibur from its scabbard, raising it above his head.

  “Whoa! What is he–?”

  The sword gleamed a pure molten white, then a flash of lighting somehow shot from the sword. I blinked my eyes, momentarily blinded, then saw a tall, slender man with tousled black hair and a very angular bone structure standing in the middle of our shop. He wore a voluminous cloak over his armour and held a great staff in his hand. His eyes instantly swivelled to look at us.

  “Who knew Merlin was a hottie?” Jez said in a whisper.

  “Shut up, shut up. Do not make sexual remarks about a guy who can turn you into a toad within a blink of an eye. Tess, Tess! What are you doing?” My sister took one, no two steps forward, then dropped to one knee, bowing her head.

  “Welcome to our humble store, great Merlin,” she said.

  “Guess a lifetime playing D&D has to pay off some time. C’mon Jez, bow,” I hissed. We both dropped to our knees as well.

  “Rise, rise,” Merlin said irritably, “I was under the impression that this dimension did not stand on ceremony. And I don’t turn young women into toads, not unless they ask me nicely.”

  “Right,” I got to my feet and brushed off the knees of my jeans. We really needed to vacuum more often. I don’t remember having potato chips recently, yet there were crumbs all over me.

  “So, how may I assist you?”

  “The ladies have an inter-dimensional portal, yet have not the training to operate it and sought your advice on how to utilise it safely.”

  “Have you indeed?” Merlin said, moving over to where Tess still kneeled, taking her hand gently and drawing her up. His green eyes bore into hers, he took her chin in his hand and looked over her face with a slight smile on his while she stared back with rapt attention. “Hmm . . . this one has potential. We may be able to do something. But what of the magic user who created the portal itself? Are they of no assistance?”

  “She died,” my sister said, jerking her head from his grip. “She was my grandmother.”

  “That must be the power I sense. Well, would you care to show me the portal and we’ll see what can be done?”

  8

  “Ah, this is quite ingenious,” Merlin said, running his hand over the door frame.

  “What? The mitred joints and crown moulding?” I said.

  “No, no, this portal, it is a multi-dimensional port that retains a static entrance.” He looked up from the door frame. “Usually, one has to create a separate portal for each realm or dimension travelled to, using a mechanism like ley lines, or tears in the dimensional fabric. This appears to engage and disengage from fixed points in multiple dimensions.”

  “How can you tell this by looking at a door frame?” Jez asked with a raised eyebrow.

  “Oh, my apologies, I forgot you haven’t the Sight.” He wove his hand over the doorway and bright-green light washed over the door, settling into lots and lots of tiny writing. “I’m looking at the spell your grandmother cast to create the portal.”

  Just as he was about to begin peering at the writing again, a loud knock came from the door. He jerked his head back, looking almost quizzical for a moment, then put his hand to the door handle. “Let’s see who it is, shall we?” The door swung open to what looked like an alleyway in the late afternoon. Standing in the doorway, hand still raised to knock again was a young guy in fairly scruffy-looking clothes, a big head of ruffled brown hair and large fennec fox-like plush ears. One raised itself slowly, swivelling as he took us in.

  “Ah, hello? I was looking for Miranda?”

  God, we had to do something about this. I couldn’t keep telling people my Nan had died, I just couldn’t. “She’s not here,” I said with a snap. “I’m Ash, what can I get you?”

  “I’m Natty. Ah . . . gold, I have the sky whale ambergris and harpy feathers she ordered. Been sitting on them for weeks, I have. Would’ve sold them, too, if I knew she wasn’t going to be around for so long. Well, you want 'em or not?”

  “What the hell is–?” I started.

  “We want them,” Jez said. I looked over my shoulder at her, frowning, but she pointed to the ledger, we had found in our searches, of all the sales Nan had made through the portal. “Ambergris and harpy feathers are regular sellers. Says right here.”

  “Oh-kay, well, how do we tell if they
are genuine?” I asked, trying to pretend like I was some kind of hardened trans-dimensional magical supplies seller.

  “Are you serious? I don’t need this shit. I’m going down to Gump’s like I should’ve–”

  “Do you mind if I inspect the goods, young man?” Merlin said.

  “What? Who are you?” the boy asked, flicking Merlin a glance. His eyes widened and his mouth dropped open. “Thousand pardons, your eminence. I didn’t expect to see such august company like yourself in a place such as this.”

  “Oi!” I snapped, but Tess hissed at me to shut up.

  “Hmm . . .,” Merlin said, turning the pieces in his hand for a moment, then took a sniff from the feathers. “Definitely harpy,” he said, his nose wrinkling in disgust, “no other carrion bird could affect such a stench. Here, note the underlying scent of smoke and brimstone mixed with human excrement.” He placed a feather under my nose and I sniffed tentatively before recoiling quickly, coughing and fighting to keep my breakfast down. “Condor or buzzard feathers just smell like dust and blood. Can’t be faked. Now the ambergris.” He held the inauspicious-looking lump of what looked like dirty grey clay and breathed in deeply. “Ah . . . that subtle, complex musk, coupled with the ozone top scent and chaparral mid notes. Yes, this man’s goods are quite genuine.”

  “How much?” I asked.

  The ears lay flat against his skull, “She promised me twenty gold pieces.” We had five gold nuggets from yesterday’s sale sitting on the shelf, but that was well short of twenty. Should we even be buying more stock now, when we had no idea if the inter-dimensional shop front would actually work? I went to have a look in the safe. I was pretty sure I knew what I'd find there, but I checked, just in case.

  "So, what is your world called?" Tess asked, shifting over to the doorframe.

  Natty gave her the side eye. "I live in Damorica, this place is called Bartertown."

  "Bartertown? I guess that's a name that serves two purposes, tells you where you are and what to expect. Is Bartertown a frontier town or something, where people come from everywhere to sell their goods?”