I glimpsed a large, pristine, blue-green lake. Its surface glistened in the waning sunlight. A lone dock extended into the water. Two boats danced on the waves.

The town centered on that lake, the buildings spread out in a grid from its shores.

Farthest away from me, on high ground, were large square buildings with sloped roofs. Some of the buildings were elaborate, with glass windows, covered porches, and surrounding gardens. To the left side of the lake were tiered fields. That had to be their food source. I wasn’t close enough to see what they were growing, but there were various green and brown plants in evenly spaced, regimented lines.

The other side of the lake housed several smaller square buildings in parallel rows, with a large central courtyard near the water. There were carvings hollowed out along the sides of some of the structures.

Scattered thorn bushes and flowers that resembled dandelions and daisies spread throughout the area. Trees surrounded the town. They were tall and dark, covered in spikes alternating with feathery fronds, like a weeping willow, yet not.

I reached out and touched the spike on one of the nearby trees. A thick green liquid dripped onto my finger. Ugh, sticky. My fingers started to burn, and I wiped them off on my uniform.

Rocks dotted the area. The air remained chill, and a few rays of sunlight peeked through the haze to shine down on the town.

“Where are we?” I whispered.

If I’d had any doubt before I was on another world, I didn’t now. There was something about this place. I couldn’t describe it. One second, it looked similar to Earth. I could close my eyes and imagine, for one moment, I was home; then I turned and noticed the color of the grass, the shape of the trees, and it threw me.

I didn’t know how to cope with this. My hand drifted over my stomach as it twisted like a pretzel.

While I gawked at the city, Bad Cop came up behind me, close behind me, a little too close. My skin tightened.

“Groos,” he said, then punched my right shoulder and pointed to a cobblestone trail leading into the town. I shrugged off his touch and moved in the indicated direction.

As we got closer, I saw more details. The homes were constructed from the trees. The wood was a medium brown color I likened to oak. I’m not sure what held it all together; the sap maybe? Small, murky glass windows inhabited the front. Overall, they reminded me of log cabins, from the outside.

A few of the dwellings had bas-relief figures and symbols on the front that meant little to me. Some rustic furniture sat scattered about, and piles of flowers struggled to survive. The townspeople had tried to enliven the area, but despite their efforts, it appeared somewhat bleak. Stone paths ran in front of and between the houses. No one was nearby when we sauntered into town near sunset.

Bad Cop led me to one of the homes near the edge of the city. A few orange and red flowers that looked kind of like mums graced the front. I saw some lettering over the door. Smoke rose from the chimney.

When we entered, an older man turned from an open fireplace with a pot bubbling over it. He smiled and waved us in.

The heat from the fire went straight to my head. I damn near swooned, it felt so good. I hadn’t realized how cold I’d gotten. Inside and out.

“Who is this, Finn?” the older man said. His voice rasped with the echoing quality I’d begun to associate with them. Oh, asshole’s name was Finn.

“An Imani. She claims she woke up out in the mountains and stumbled upon the mines. We need more information.” Finn slanted him a look.

The old guy nodded and turned to look me over. “Imani? She does not look Imani, not at all. Look at her. She has orange hair and blue eyes. She is too full of color to be Imani.” He winked at me and ushered me toward the fire.

Finn grabbed the collar of my uniform as I passed. “Imani.”

I smacked his hand away and scowled. One more touch. My anger must’ve leaked into my expression, because he smiled and leaned toward me, in my face yet again. I leaned forward to meet him. I wasn’t scared of him anymore. Well, I was a little, but I was no wuss.

Finn got this crazy light in his eyes. A knife slid between us, and before I could react, he cut the bonds on my wrists and stepped back. An evil grin plastered his face, and he waved the blade in front of my eyes. Thought he was funny, did he? My jaw clenched.

The old guy cleared his throat. “Imani clothes, yes. Imani? Hmm.” He tapped his finger on his chin.

I stayed quiet, my hands outstretched to the fire, fingers tingling as feeling returned.

“You can leave, Finn,” the old guy said, dismissing him. He turned to me. “Welcome. My name is Ute. Who are you?”

He twinkled at me. It was hard to pull off a good twinkle, but he managed quite well. Ute had salt and pepper hair, chin length and unruly. His face was more lined, but he had the same slit eyes as the rest. His were dark gray. Ute dressed in a robe versus the leathers the other four sported. His whole demeanor begged me to trust him and tell him all my secrets. Even knowing better, I found myself relaxing in his presence. Compared to the seething intensity that was Finn’s hatred, I wallowed in the guarded welcome.

“My name is Elizabeth—.” I stopped when Finn moved between us on his way out and blocked my view of Ute.

His head dropped to my ear.

“Be good,” he whispered, his breath stirring the little hairs on my neck.

I blinked, unsettled, and narrowed my eyes in response. Who, me?

He chuckled and left me in Ute’s tender care.

“What am I to do with you?” Ute asked as he stirred his pot.

I’d several suggestions, but I was pretty sure the question was rhetorical. I needed more information.

“I don’t know how I got here. I don’t know how I got in these clothes. I don’t know any Imani. I’m a human from Earth. Though, wow, does it feel strange to have to clarify that. I was going to school and bam! Now I’m here. This isn’t my home. How do I get home? Please.”

The words rushed out of their own volition as my voice cracked. My eyes burned, and I turned and rubbed them on my arm. Damn it.

He stopped stirring. “That is a lot of questions, ones for which I am afraid I do not have the answers. As you say, you are clearly not from here. You are not Fost; you do not look Imani, but…”

He waved his hands at what I wore. “There must be some connection. How did you get the shivat? The Imani are a horrible race, as I am sure you have guessed.” He added with a twist to his lip, “They are our enemy. They break nature to their own means. They are capable of many things, things we do not understand or forgive. You could be running from them, or you could be a spy for them. Maybe they figure we are less likely to kill a woman. It is a question, no?”

We lapsed into silence.

He ground up some spices, placed them into the pot, and meandered to the table. “Tell me what you remember.”

“I remember who I am. I remember growing up, my family, and my friends. I remember my life. I remember going to school. I didn’t know what my major was going to be yet, but I’d taken a bunch of courses. I was on the way to my calculus class, and I was late. It was an odd day. There’d been a few accidents, and people were acting strange. My friend Sarah…she was sick? I couldn’t get my mom or the police. Or…” My breath sounded harsh in the room.

Ute’s eyes were sad as they gazed at me. I continued. “Next thing I know, I wake up here. I know there are some huge gaps in my memory. How did I get here? Who are these Imani, and why am I in their clothes? I don’t know any Imani, at least, not that I recall.” I swallowed and remembered the crash and the cold, but again, I didn’t mention it. “I just want to go home.”

Ute’s face remained blank. I wasn’t sure if he believed me. It was the truth, damn it. My stomach twisted in fear, indignation. I started to pace in front of him. Tears gathered in my eyes, ready to spill. I dashed them away as I moved.

No.

He inclined his head. “You are upset. We will talk about this later. You must be hungry.”

He returned to the fire.

A delicious smell wafted through the room, and my mouth watered. “Yes.”

“We are having gurda.” I could eat just about anything right now. Even gurda. Wow, do I hope gurda doesn’t mean fish poop or something.

I’d been focusing on him so much, I missed the room. The space was cozy. A thick colorful rug with an abstract linear design covered the wooden floor. A cot sat on one side of the room with a small table next to it, two stone bowls on top. The bowls were dark brown, like the rock from the quarry. Opposite to this, a larger table and chairs stood next to an open fire pit. There were some shelves listing off to the right of the fire, adjacent to a wide counter, and in the far corner, a covered pot. Various bottles and jars and knickknacks cluttered the countertop.

That was the extent of the amenities in the room. Books covered the rest of the space, not a few, not a bunch, hundreds of loosely bound, antique-looking books. He’d piled them on the floor, on the shelves, on any flat surface that couldn’t run away. I could bury a body in the books in this room, and no one would notice until the smell reached them. Pretty clear that Ute loved to read.

He gestured toward the larger table and walked over with two bowls.

I took a small taste. My eyes rolled back. Wow. “This is so good!”

The gurda had a strong, earthy taste, followed by a heavy burn. It reminded me of stew, thick meat surrounded by gravy. My nose started running, and I had to sip water between bites. It was so worth it. Weird but yummy. I managed to polish off two heaping servings before I let out a contented sigh. I’d forgotten what it felt like to be full.

After we ate, I expected a return to the interrogation. Instead, Ute just got up, grabbed our dishes, rinsed them out in a large tub next to the fire, and stacked them on a nearby shelf. Without a word, he grabbed a book and started to read. I glanced at the title, but the words swam in and out of focus as I struggled to keep my eyes open.

He noticed and with a jerk of his head said, “Lie down.”

I obliged and sagged onto the cot, pulled the lone blanket up over me and tucked it under my chin. I didn’t think I would be able to sleep, but fatigue quickly swamped me.

I dreamed of slit, white eyes, shining down at me. Finn or…