M, the leader of Everyone, glanced up slowly from the knife she was twirling lazily between her fingers. Her curly red hair was even more obvious at a close range, as was the casual smirk that crossed her face. She glanced up at Eric’s pale face, and the smirk widened.

“Eric Breeden. A pleasure to see you again,” she said calmly. “How can I help you this fine evening?”

“How did you know my name in Sheran?” He asked, his voice rising slightly without his registering it. “I never told you my name. What else do you know about me?”

She arched an eyebrow at him. “I’d keep my voice down, if I were you. Or do you want everyone here to know you’re not from our fair world?”

Eric cast a nervous glance at the other market customers around him, who were indeed staring at him in silence, clearly listening in on his conversation. He took a deep breath, forcing his suddenly racing pulse to calm down a little, then, in a lower voice, he returned to the conversation. 

“What makes you think I’m not from Ahya?” He asked, his voice barely above a whisper. “Are you a follower of Arcana as well?”

“Not a follower,” she replied with a slight tilt of her head. “Merely an avid customer.”

“What could a god possibly have to sell?”

“Knowledge, young mister Breeden. It is at once both the most trifle and most valuable item in the world. It is also a currency itself. Arcana deals in knowledge in both ways. You can learn a great many things from him and his Champion, if only you have enough to pay.”

“So you asked Samuel,” Eric guessed. “And he just told you about me?”

“Well,” M drew out the word, as if trying to gather her thoughts. “Truth be told, I didn’t have to offer much. The knowledge of your identity, while a well-kept secret, isn’t exactly world-shattering. But it was he who broached the subject if you must know. He wanted to be sure of his magic, and he asked my opinion. I advised him on what I thought a reasonable way to pull you to Ahya.”

So many people aware of him and conspiring in the effort to drag him here, Eric thought. He closed his eyes for a moment, willing himself to ignore the growing sense of anger at the unwanted intervention into his life. Ahya may have been an amazing world, but he couldn’t stand the thought of so many strangers making decisions and plans on his behalf, without his knowledge. He opened his eyes again to see M staring curiously at him, her head tilted to one side.

“You seem troubled, Eric,” she said, though she didn’t sound very concerned. “Does it offend you that I was consulted?”

“No,” he said, quite truthfully. “My main complaint is with the wizard that actually brought me here. Do you know why I’m here, then? Samuel was decidedly vague about it all.”

“I don’t know more about it than you, sadly,” she admitted, and a slight frown appeared on her face. “I was very curious as to Bragg’s reasoning for it all, but he refused to give me all the details, same as you. All I could get out of him was that Arcana deems it necessary to have an Outworlder in Ahya. It has been a while since I was so frustrated.”

“You’re frustrated?” Eric let out a snort of impatience. “You live here, as you always did, and as you always will, until you die. It may not have been your choice, but this is your home. For me, this is not home, nor was it my choice.”

“You feel slighted that you were dragged away from your uneventful life to serve a greater purpose? I was given to understand that many of your people enjoy serving a higher being.”

A brief memory, of the lines and lines of pews from the first and only church he’d ever visited, flashed through his mind. Sure, there were many people of that particular mindset, but he wasn’t one of them. He liked to think that it was pretty obvious to people that he’d met. Sure, he was spiritual, but he lived his own life, free of the control and expectations of others.

“Well, at least that answers my questions,” he said, hefting the sack of food a little higher. “I’m expected elsewhere. Have a nice night.”

He strode off before she could say anything to stop or distract him, making his purposeful way to the entrance of the market grounds. She made no attempt to call him back, and as he turned back onto Trader’s Row, he caught a glimpse of her leaning back behind her stall again, looking wholly unconcerned, as if the conversation had never happened. Snoring again in irritation, Eric made his way back to Emma’s shop.

“Ah, coffee,” Emma said when he’d returned ten minutes later. “Excellent. Thank you very much.”

He set the metal cup in front of her alongside one of the boxed lunches, then sat on the floor beside the desk. He opened his own meal on his lap, but sat staring at the food inside without really seeing it. He didn’t quite feel like eating now, his mind too busy reliving the conversation with M in the Night Market.

“You look troubled,” Emma said, peering down at him. “What’s wrong?”

Eric didn’t answer immediately. He opened his tea and took a careful sip of the hot liquid. It was as delicious as he remembered but did nothing to improve his sour mood. He looked back up at her concerned face, feeling both a desire to tell her everything, including about his real identity and also the necessity to prevent the story from getting out to yet another person. Finally, with a deep sigh, he set the tea down.

“Just in a funk after yesterday,” he said evasively. “How much do you know about Everyone, Emma?”

“The trading group?” She took another bite of her meal and chewed thoughtfully. “Not much, to tell you the truth. As we’re on Trader’s Row, we don’t deal with them often. Our rent goes directly to the Crown. But I know they control the market, as well as most of the shipping to and from Tyrman.”

“I know that much already,” he said, trying his best to hide the impatience. “But what do you know about the woman that leads it?”

She raised an eyebrow at him. “I didn’t even know that it was a woman who led it. Not much is known about the management of Everyone.”

“I see. I met a woman in Sheran who claimed to be the leader. She enchanted my sword and shield for me. I met her again just now.”

“Is she quite rude?” Emma asked. “Is that why you’re so grumpy?”

“No, she was pleasant enough,” he admitted. “She just put me on edge, is all. She seems quite full of herself, and not at all concerned about what others might be dealing with.”

“Well, that’s most of Tyrman for you,” Emma said with a quiet chuckle. “They don’t care about your problems unless it breaks one of their ethical rules. Merchants are the worse in that regard. If it doesn’t affect or involve business, they couldn’t care less.”

“Sounds like Americans,” Eric grumbled under his voice. When she raised an eyebrow in confusion, he made a dismissive gesture. “Well, I probably won’t do much business with her again, if I can help it.”

“Well, you don’t seem to have expensive or unique tastes,” she agreed. “So you probably won’t have to. There are plenty of other people who could do enchanting services for you, and some are probably cheaper. Samuel, for instance. I know he lends his talents for a fee or favor sometimes.”

“That’s not surprising. A mage like himself, he could make a mint selling his skills.”

“Indeed.”

A little more relaxed, now that he had vented at least some of his concerns to another person, particularly one who listened and seemed to care, Eric dug into his food with renewed passion. It was tasty enough, he thought. It was nothing compared to the food that Mandra served in her taproom, but for the price and odd hours, it was reasonably good. He particularly enjoyed the strawberry tea, thinking that it might turn into his new favorite drink, and staple here in Ahya.

They ate in companionable silence for about half an hour, the only sounds they made being the clunk of setting the metal cup down. When they had finished, Emma said that she would turn in for the night. Eric, now that his stomach was full, could feel sleep calling him as well. He gathered up the empty boxes and cups, then turned to face her.

“I’ll see you in the morning,” Emma said, standing on her toes to kiss him again. It was just as surprising as the first time. “Sleep well,”

“You too,” he muttered, shuffling out through the door. “Thanks again.”

She rolled her eyes slightly at his repeated thanks and offered him one last coy smile before closing the door behind him. He stood there for a while, ears tensed as if to hear her muttering behind the wood, but all was silent save for the shifting of the man in the far bed. Letting out a sigh, Eric deposited the dishes by the foot of his own bed and lay back down, staring up at the white-washed ceiling of the infirmary.

It had barely been a week since his arrival in Ahya, yet he felt as if several months had passed. Between the shock of his arrival and realization that this was not all a strange dream and the busy trip to and from Sheran as a member of an armed guard, he was vaguely surprised to think about how much he’d done since he’d been summoned. And there was so much left to do, he thought, if Samuel and Arcana were to be believed. Was there really a purpose for him being here? Would he find out soon? Or would he live a mediocre life, dying in the future without ever discovering why he was there?

He fell asleep with these thoughts bouncing around his exhausted brain, only faintly aware of the man in the far bed getting up to use the bathroom. It was only as the man shuffled back and laid down once more that Eric finally drifted off. Well, if one thing was certain, he told himself, it was that he was a stubborn bastard. He knew he couldn’t convince Samuel to send him back, and if he were being honest, he wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to leave Ahya just yet. It was a wonderful world, with so much left to learn and see. He might as well just get on with it and try his best with the new life he’d been given.