Not My Fantasy

by Sam Hall

  “What’s Fauvian when it’s at home?” Flea asked.

  “Of course, we’re speaking English,” I said. “It’s the only language I know how to speak.”

  “You are speaking English right now,” the blue librarian said, “but before you were speaking Fauvian.”

  “No, we weren’t,” I said.

  “Ah, Ash, I’m not sure what’s going on, but you need to tell the librarian what you want and then they find the information for you,” Natty said.

  “Yeah, I get that, but it is having difficulties understanding us.”

  “That is inaccurate,” the librarian said, “I can understand all languages used in this universe, including many millions of lost languages. . . .”

  “They are probably having difficulties because you keep swapping languages. Sometimes you speak properly and then you switch to this other weird noise,” Natty said.

  “I’m not switching languages. I have no idea how to do that!” I snapped.

  “Ah, a request,” the librarian said. Its huge shining eyes lost focus for a moment; then it snapped back to attention. “To your query: how could you be speaking in several different languages unwittingly? I have many possible explanations, but the most likely are as follows: you have been injected with a nano-translator without your knowledge, you have been infected with a multilingual virus, languages have been downloaded into your consciousness while you slept, you have been infected with a babel fish, you have had a spell cast on you, you have spontaneously developed the ability to—”

  “Hang on,” I said, “what was the one with the spell?”

  “Spells, translation: a spell which a magic user casts either over themselves or others to give them the ability to speak and understand and write, where applicable, a language they have not learned,” the librarian said. “Do you think this explanation the most likely?”

  “Yeah, I mean, Nan was apparently a powerful witch,” I said.

  “By Nan, do you mean Nan: title or Nan: first name?” the librarian said.

  “Nan: title.”

  “By this, you mean Nan, from the word Nana, a variation of the title grandmother. Your grandmother was a magic user. Her name, please?”

  “Ah, Leslie McKinnon.”

  “Leslie McKinnon . . .” the librarian's eyes went blank again, “there are several million individuals that fit that search term. Do you have a date of birth and other identifying details to narrow the search?” I ended up supplying her date of birth, the hospital she was born in and her address and then the librarian nodded. “Yes, I have the correct person, there are several entries on this person you call ‘Nan’, I have business records, birth records, marriage records, membership to several galactic magic organisations–”

  “Yes, well, that’s all very interesting, but that’s not what we are here for,” I said.

  “You wish to retract the query: how could you be speaking in several different languages unwittingly?”

  “Yes.”

  “Of course, then how may I assist you?”

  “I need to find out what passes for love in this country. How do people pick mates and woo them?”

  “You wish to find out love: mating rituals: whole of Damorica?” the librarian asked.

  “Not the whole of Damorica, you want the canids,” Natty said, “otherwise you’ll get everyone from Gump to the prince and how they go about it. Royal canids specifically, as Mellors would have different tactics than the prince.”

  “You wish to find out love: mating rituals: royal canids of Damorica?”

  “Yes, and can we borrow some English romance novels from Earth, translated into . . . ? What’s your language called again, Natty?”

  “Fauvian.”

  “Right, romance novels translated from English to Fauvian.”

  “I will need some clarification on the last request,” the librarian said. “Do you mean English language romance novels: alpha male protagonist? Do you mean English language romance novels: beta male protagonist? Do you mean English language romance novels: erotica? Do you mean English language romance novels: BDSM erotica? Do you mean English language romance novels: paranormal? Do you mean—?”

  “OK, OK, I get it! I want English language romance novels: paranormal. The whole other species thing should make things clearer for the prince,” I said.

  “Do you mean English language romance novels: paranormal young adult? Do you mean English language romance novels: paranormal vampire protagonist? Do—?”

  “Yeah, yeah, too broad again, I know,” I said, scratching my fingers through my hair. “I want some English language books, romance, paranormal, werewolf male protagonist, human female lead, heterosexual leads, some tension between leads, a bit of personality conflict, that kind of thing. Some explicit sex scenes, that’ll keep his interest—”

  “It will also give him ideas,” Flea said darkly.

  “Yeah, you’re right, scratch that. Sexual tension but no actual sex scenes, all interactions need to be respectful, no dub-con or rapey stuff.”

  “No love triangles, either,” Flea said, “don’t want him thinking everyone else is gunning for ‘his’ girl.”

  “And no love triangles. Can you provide that?”

  The librarian's eyes went distant for a moment and then he said, “There are several hundred thousand options, would you like me to narrow the field by discounting fanfic?”

  “Oh, God yes, I do not want to have to explain what Twilight is,” I said.

  “Minus Twilight series and minus fanfic, that still leaves over fifty thousand books. Would you like the five most popular?”

  “Yes, that would be fine. Man, I never would have thought that going to a public library would be easier than this,” I said.

  “Well, it contains all of the information sources for millions of civilisations. If you don’t narrow the field, you’re going to get drowned in information,” Natty said.

  “Here are your books,” the librarian said and when I turned around, there were two small piles of books on the bench. “This pile includes scholarly dissertations of the mating rituals of royal canids as well as several novels that give a romanticised view of the process but are considered significant in the field. This contains your English to Fauvian translations of paranormal romance novels. It will be interesting to see what you think, many concepts don’t translate well, so artistic license has been used.”

  “Great, so how do I return these and what’s the due date?” I asked.

  “The books are not actual items from our collection. We organise information into the form that best suits the clients. For the Oolians from Sirius it takes the form of different gas bubbles, for the Venuvian Sathians it takes the form of–”

  “Got it. So, I don’t need to return them to you?”

  “We do not lend original copies of any of our assets; yours is merely a copy in a format that is suitable for you. When it is no longer useful to you, merely tell the assets to return to us. We will harvest the raw materials and repurpose them for the next client. Does this conclude our business today?”

  “Uh, yes, you’ve been very helpful.”

  32

  “So, how do the doggies find love?” Flea asked Natty as we sat around our room, trying to wade through the texts on canid mating rituals.

  “I don’t mix with the mucky mucks on a regular basis, but I think they know who their mate is on sight. Has caused problems in the past, princes falling for chambermaids, or, even worse, an herbivore. There's a bunch of highly romantic tales about star-crossed lovers and all that, but not sure how often that happens in real life,” Natty said with a shrug.

  “It says here that scent is essential, that canids mostly find their mates through love at first smell rather than sight,” I said.

  “We can skip over the descriptions of sex, right?” Flea asked, flicking pages rapidly, his nose wrinkling.

  “Yeah . . .” I glanced up at the knock on the door. We all looked at each other and grabbed th
e books. Flea opened it to see Mellors, the smug prick, standing there.

  “I am to escort you to His Highness’s chambers,” he said.

  “We know,” Flea said in a low growl, brushing past the wolf-man, his face getting in the canid’s, a universal sign of male aggression. Mellors merely sighed and looked pointedly at me.

  “Try it again,” I said.

  “I fail to see how this is going to help . . .,” the prince said, holding a copy of Moonlight on Sable in his hand, an arm placed awkwardly around Flea’s shoulders. Flea was not doing the greatest job of pretending to be the female lead, Sage McKenzie. He was straining his back trying to put as much space between himself and the prince as possible.

  “Moonlight on Sable was on the bestseller lists everywhere. The romantic male lead, Brock, was a huge hit with the ladies. The actor who played him in a movie had to go into hiding for a while as all the crazy chicks were stalking him. Anyway, if you want a blueprint for what makes a human girl’s heart flutter, he’s a good place to start.”

  “I would be more likely to be able to ape this . . . Brock’s behaviours if I had a female to practice on,” the prince said with a pout.

  “Then bring one in from somewhere, because the only way you’re touching me is if I have a weapon in my hand, about to be plunged into your heart,” I said from where I was perched on a spindly chair.

  “Your persistence in holding grudges is most vexing. You walk around my apartments unharmed, so where is the gratitude?”

  “Now, you see there, it’s that kind of attitude that gets you in trouble. You think everyone owes you. No one owes you; I don’t care about whatever theory of divine rule you’ve got going on, if you want to succeed at getting rid of the curse you’ll have to at least pretend that the girl’s thoughts, feelings and dreams are more important than yours.”

  “That’s impossible . . .,” he muttered to himself.

  “For you, it is, hence the curse. Eye on the prize, your royalness, eye on the prize.”

  The prince’s eyes narrowed at my words, but he mastered himself, turning to Mellors, “Fetch one of the maids for me. The pretty one with the white pelt will do nicely.”

  “Celerity? Very good, sire, I’ll be back presently. I’ll leave Fenris and Rufus in here to keep an eye on the . . . humans.”

  “Yes, yes, very good.” The prince turned to me. “Have you signed the contract yet?”

  “Not until Gabe is returned to me. I told you that.”

  “And what is to stop you from just up and leaving once he is back? At this point, I’m inclined to keep him until you have fulfilled your part of the bargain.”

  “I have to stay, anyway,” I said. “Just like you, I’m waiting to see if Tess wants to go or remain here because she’s fallen in love with you.”

  “Which you will try to stop,” he said, slitting his eyes.

  “And try to help you achieve. A quick trip to the librarian will confirm the popularity of this book with human women. It also features a romantic lead that shifts from human to wolf form, so you can’t say I didn’t tailor this to your situation. Look, the mental gymnastics are killing me, but the worry about Gabe is making it near impossible to do. Bring him back and I’ll work on this for as long as you like with you.”

  “Celerity, sire,” Mellors said, arriving back with a beautiful canid in tow. Like most of the beast people here, she looked like an Earthen animal that had evolved to be two-legged, not four. She had long slender limbs covered in silky, white fur and bright blue eyes that right now were flicking around the room, looking for a way to escape.

  “Let’s try something new,” I said. “I think this will be an easy place to start. Celerity, have a seat, you, too, Your Highness. Now, your task is to find out more about Celerity. Who is she? What does she like? What moves her heart?”

  Celerity sat slowly into the chair we pointed to, hands caught up in her white apron. “Prince,” I said and gestured to the girl.

  “Who are you? What do you like? What moves your heart?” the prince snapped at the girl.

  I smacked my hand against my forehead; this was going to be a tough job.

  It took hours, but finally towards the end, we got Celerity to relax and the prince to speak in a friendlier tone. While she started to smile, she still wouldn’t meet the prince’s eyes, but she did seem at least a little flattered by his interest. “This is what I mean,” I said, breaking into their discussion. “Now that you’re not barking orders at her, she’s relaxing, feeling like you’re interested in her and what she’s got to say. This is the start, Your Highness. Human women find sensitive, appropriate attention a big turn on.”

  I watched the conflict play out on the prince’s face. He stared endlessly at Celerity and all of her former poise left, leaving her fidgeting and avoiding eye contact again. Finally, he seemed to snap out of it, turning to me, “All right, I think I can use this in my next outing with your sister, but where should this take place? I’m assuming that simply grilling her over breakfast is not going to suit.”

  “No, but the main reason why Tess is here is to see the splendour of an alien realm, to have an adventure. If you do this and combine it with an excursion that incorporates this, that’d be a good start,” I said.

  We were finally given leave to go after that. I took the contract with me, ready to sign it when Gabe was returned to us and eventually, the prince agreed. I forgot all about it when he was delivered to our door. He had to be carried in; I could see the distaste on the canids’ faces when they brought him in. He was barely recognisable, covered in blood and shit. I was frozen for a moment, able to see clearly the shapes of their canine feet as they moved across the spotless carpet, flinching away when I looked at Gabe’s form. “In the bathroom,” Natty said, Flea and I unable to find words for what we saw. He followed them in and we were drawn along, as if by strings. He was laid down in the bath; it was only Natty’s restraining hand that stopped them dropping him like a load of kindling. The soldier’s washed their hands fastidiously as Natty began running the water over Gabe’s legs, picking at what he hoped was clothes, pulling away when fabric appeared to have been stuck to him.

  “Get a doctor,” I said finally, the words catching in my throat. “Now!”

  “Keep your fur on, missus,” one of them said. “Only docs we got don’t know much about monkeys. You need a vet.”

  “Then get me one of those, now, or I’ll go straight to the prince.”

  “It was the prince that ordered this done,” the other soldier said with a smirk that faltered eventually under my unwavering gaze. “I’ll send a man up, Vickers is his name. Not sure what he can do, but you’ll have ‘im.”

  “Good, go now,” I said.

  “Nah, can’t go until you signed that contract. Have to return it to the prince himself,” the soldier said. For a moment I couldn’t put words together, my brain temporarily offline as the purest of rages swept over me. My breath came in short pants and I dug my nails into my palms, my arms shaking with the effort to not strike out at them. They would smash me more thoroughly than they had done Gabe if I did and then, I would be helpless to keep anyone safe. I just held myself rigid, waiting; waiting for the anger to dull down into something I could work with. I was satisfied when I saw them flinch a little when I looked up at the soldiers. I walked out of the bathroom and into the living room, snatched up the contract and a pen and scrawled my signature on it and shoved it in the nearest one’s hands.

  “The vet better be here in the next twenty minutes,” I snarled.

  “Righto,” the soldier with the contract said with a frown. “Lester, you take this up to His Highness, I’ll get Vickers.”

  33

  “We’re going to have to soak his clothes off,” Natty said when I reappeared in the bathroom. I reached out to touch Gabe but stopped, not seeing anywhere where there weren’t bruises. “It’s mostly bruising, they must have beat him, but at least they didn’t cut him.”

  “Yeah,
at least there’s that,” I said with a voice made of ashes.

  I crouched down beside the bath, looking at his inert form, watching the rattling rise and fall of his chest greedily, it was the only sign I had that he lived. His body was an explicitly drawn roadmap, showing me exactly how far they would go with one of us if we stepped out of line. Light bruises, often just smatterings of fingertips pressed viciously into his skin, spoke of just getting started, warming to the canvas of his flesh, later erupting into massive clouds of black and red bruising that seemed to roil and shift, erupting into lacerations, where the skin had been pummelled so long it split like a rotten fruit. The filth slathered over every inch of him should have had me gagging; it was rank enough, but I was able to stay my gorge with the worry of what all these bacteria, potentially alien bacteria was doing to his poor broken body.

  “I wanted to start rinsing him clean, but he’s been sitting like this too long. We’ll need to soak, get what clothes we can off of him and then empty the bath and wash again.”

  “OK,” I said as I watched the water rise. I put my hand in it as it began to cover him, shifting my hand to create small waves, watching it lap at the dry parts of his body, knowing right now this was the only way I could touch him.

  Natty proved to be the best at helping Gabe. He was careful and methodical whereas I was flinching back as each part of his poor body was revealed, my hand trembling.

  “We’ve got to leave; you know that now, right? I mean, what the actual fuck, Ash?” Flea said.

  “Tess won’t–”

  “Ash, for fuck’s sake, I’ll gaffer tape her mouth shut and we’ll kidnap her if needed. Won’t make me any friends, but we can sort that out on the other side of the portal.”

  “And how do we get Gabe there?” I asked. “How do we get out of here? I can’t ride a bike, neither can Natty or Tess.”