Tina hadn’t thought much of where there boss might have really come from, but now she did wonder. But there were more important ideas that jostled about in her head.

“So, what, if we’d been transported to Baghdad, I’d be able to speak Arabic?” She wondered, suddenly excited at that thought.

There could also be so many other places she could travel too if it was possible..

“Yes, but we aren’t going to Baghdad,” he told her. “I do not intend to go back there, not again, not after last time.”

That comment caught Tina’s attention, but he didn’t elaborate further, so she continued on.

“So when you got to Canada, in my time, wherever you came from you immediately could speak English in Toronto?” she asked. Devon gave her a look. “Any other languages.”

“Yes… several,” he finally replied sounding like it wasn’t a pleasant experience for him. “But not French. Never French.”

It was an odd thing to say. He certainly didn’t seem too displeased about that fact. Too bad, she’d never been able to maintain more fluent French than it took to read cereal boxes.

The trip across the waters didn’t take long, and like the cart, was spent mostly holding on for dear life. And soon the full force of the medieval metropolis hit Tina in full force, the sounds, the sights, the smells which were a whole lot stronger than on the other side of the water. Oh god the smells.  Too many, too strong, and many just horribly offensive.  Her eyes quickly started watering as they made their way through the fish market, and then there were the smells of animals, refuse and excrement from the city’s main thoroughfares and whatever the people were carelessly tossing out of their windows. Real medieval times was like living on an open sewer!

“I thought you said we were now of this time. How come it didn’t affect my sense of smell,” Tina complained as the smell of rancid meat wafted over to her. She’d spent most of their walking through the city with her arm over her face, the fabric of her stola barely helping out.

“You’ll get used to it,” Devon told her as they both were forced to swat away flies from the cloud that they were walking through by stalls where rancid smelling meat hung while being smoked. Even covering her face, Tina still coughed and choked a bit. “Besides we aren’t tourists here, so don’t act like one. We are here on business. And needless to say, don’t talk about where you’re really from, or that we’ve stepped through time.”

“We drove,” she corrected.

“That’s not the term that's used,” her replied.

“Oh, is there a scientific term then?” she wanted to know.

“Stepping through,” Devon told her.

“In our sleep?” she argued. “Or at least mine. We sleep walked here?”

“That’s better for those who are unfamiliar with how it is,” he told her.

“So, I do it enough times I’ll get used to it?” Tina asked.

“If the gods are with us, no, because your trip back to Toronto will be the last time I will ever need you to.” He replied.

A rebellious part of her reacted in disappointment at that thought.  In response, Tina pushed it back down where it had come from.