Warmth bloomed and flickered across her face and Lina opened her eyes slowly. They felt glued shut, but finally she managed to force them apart, blinking the world into focus.
“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you,” said a familiar male voice. “Go back to sleep.”
There was a fire coming to life near her bed — she realized she was on a bed, soft and pillowy, enveloped in a warm blanket. She pulled it up to her chin and blinked again as the man came into view. Tilted eyes sparkled green in the warm glow of the fire, ringed by thick eyelashes. High cheekbones and a solid, square jaw gave him a strong profile, but when he turned to face her, his expression was pure concern.
“How are you feeling?” he asked, his tone soothing and gentle.
Lina yawned and he chuckled. It shook his broad shoulders and lifted his full lips into a lopsided smile.
“Right, of course. Sorry to have woken you. You were shivering in your sleep,” he said, waving absently toward the fire. “I’ll leave you to your rest.”
There was something odd about all of this. About him. It took Lina’s sleepy mind a minute to catch up, but it did eventually.
Everything was to her scale. The bed actually looked like a bed, not something carved from walnut shells. The fireplace was made of bricks the size of her hand, not three times larger than her body, and the man’s clothes — a white shirt with flowy sleeves and black pants that hugged his narrow waist and showed off impressively muscular legs; he looked like he was from another time — were stitched with such care that it was evident someone knew what they were doing. Lina’s own clothes were scraps of fabric Mom had gotten her, clumsily sewn with a needle and thread that dwarfed her.
“Wait,” she called as he reached the door. Her voice was raw and dry and she cleared her throat. Bits and pieces of the day before started to filter in. “Where am I?”
He stopped and frowned, his forehead creasing as he dragged a chair to her bedside. “Where are you from?”
“My mother works for Central Cascadia Tech; I’ve always stayed in the lab.”
Confusion marred his handsome face and Lina forced herself to a sitting position. “You have no idea where that is, do you?”
Slowly, he shook his head.
“Seattle?” she tried. Still nothing. “America? Earth?” Where had the transporter taken her?
“Do you feel well enough to stand?” he asked.
She nodded carefully. “Yes, I think so. Why?”
“Come with me.”
He stood and headed for the door again, this time pulling it open to let in a wash of silvery light. He stayed silhouetted in the door frame long enough to make sure she was able to get up on her own, and then he left.
Lina’s legs felt like rubber and she wobbled, holding onto the bed for support as she made her way to the door. Even that was just the right size for her. Was this some sort of dream? A hallucination? Or was it really heaven?
She reached into her pockets and found the battery and the diode that Mom had given her years ago. That connection to her past and to reality would have to be enough for now.
She braced herself against the door jamb and inhaled sharply.
Perched high in the treetops as they were, she could see for miles in all directions. But it wasn’t what was in the distance that had her breathless. All throughout the trees, lights glowed in windows, in lanterns hanging from poles, in strings draped across walkways. A network of bridges and boardwalks and balconies connected the community of treetop homes like a spider’s web. She looked down and spotted more of the same, levels and levels of it and when she tilted her head back, there were more bridges and houses above. While everything else seemed to her scale, the trees maintained the height and grandeur of those back on Earth.
“Welcome to Mabnoa,” he said with a sweep of his arms. Lina leaned her forearms on the balcony railing and soaked in the warm summer air, the scent of night-blooming jasmine, and the kiss of silvery moonlight on her skin. Moonlight from a moon that was clearly not the same one she was used to seeing from her grimy window. It was an odd shape, much larger in the sky, dotted with craters, but mostly smooth.
“It’s beautiful,” she said on a sigh, watching the wind rustle the tops of trees. Humming insects filled the air with their song, and in the far-off distance, waves winked with starlight as they brushed against a lakeshore.
She felt tiny, but not in the normal way. It wasn’t because everything was too big for her, it was because the whole universe was too big. Everything she’d ever known or seen was somewhere so far away she had no idea how she’d ever get back.
“Thank you, we’re very happy here,” he said, standing at her side. He smelled like cedar, or maybe pine. Woodsy, earthy, male. Lina had never met anyone close to her age, or anywhere near her height — and certainly not a boy. For the first time, she was recognizing how much she’d missed that, even though she hadn’t known it.
“I’m Lina,” she said, not looking at him. He was too handsome. She’d managed to get past it in her sleepy haze, but now she was sure she’d be tongue-tied if he fixed her with that warm jade gaze.
“Bain,” he said, turning with an outstretched hand. Lina looked at his hand for a moment before deciding to take it. She’d seen her fair share of handshakes before, but how did it actually work? Who initiated the actual shaking? And how hard was she meant to hold on? She’d heard once that the strength of a man’s handshake spoke to his confidence, but was she supposed to fake that, because she wasn’t feeling very confident at the moment. She felt lost and far from home. She was on another world and out of her depth and she felt it immensely.
But when she slipped her hand into Bain’s, that all went away. He gripped her hand lightly and brought it up to his mouth, kissing the back of it with a warm press of his lips. “Well met, Lina.”
She pulled her hand away, but it was already too late; already warmth spread up her arm, coursing through her bloodstream until it reached her face, her cheeks glowing red.
“I’m sure you’re still tired from your journey,” he said, as if he had any idea what her journey had entailed. But he seemed content to not ask too many questions right now, which she appreciated.
“Now that you’ve mentioned it,” she said, stifling a yawn behind her hand. “I am.”
“Farita will have my behind if she finds out I coaxed you out of bed.”
Lina just tilted her head to the side in a silent question. Bain shook his head.
“She’s the head healer. Very good at what she does, but very strict. And she doesn’t suffer fools that meddle with the healing process. You’re supposed to be recovering.”
Lina’s mouth twisted into a smile. “I wouldn’t want to get you in any trouble,” she said.
“Wouldn’t be the first time,” he said with an answering grin. “Come on then.” He headed back across the wide balcony into the room where the fire had now grown to a dull roar. He pulled the blankets on the bed back and gestured toward it. “In you get.”
Lina suppressed a giggle at his mock-seriousness and sidled past him. “What, are you going to tuck me in?” she asked. He was still holding the corner of the blanket in the air.
“Of course I am. I’m the one that discovered you. It’s my duty to make sure you’re well taken care of.”
Lina wriggled down into the mattress and Bain pulled the blankets up to her shoulders, tucking the edges in around her sides.
“There we go. Farita will never know the difference.”
Already the warmth and comfort of the bed was reminding Lina how tired she was. Apparently being flung across space through a matter transporter could take a lot out of a girl. She yawned and rolled over, pressing her face into the impossibly-soft pillow.
She didn’t think of much as she drifted off to sleep, but she thought of Bain’s easy smile and then realized she’d never heard him leave…