“No crazier than any of it,” I said.

  “And what’s with this ‘writing us into the story’ business?” asked Allison.

  “You know you would give your left pinkie to visit the World of Dur, for real.”

  Allison thought about, while Charlie looked from one to the other of us, the expression on his face suggesting that we had all gone mad.

  “Okay, maybe just the tip,” said Allison.

  “You two are serious,” he said.

  “She needs help, Charlie,” I said, looking again at the queen, who was still weeping in her hands. Not too long ago, my own son had been kidnapped. Not fun at all. “And she needs help now,” I added.

  “But I haven’t written a stitch in months. And also, this is complete lunacy.”

  I ignored him. “We know where her baby is being held. We followed the kidnapper closely in Chapter Thirteen, your last chapter.”

  “Hold on,” said Charlie.

  “For what?” I asked.

  Charlie fished out his cell phone. “I’m calling the local funny farm. Tell them they have three new patients.”

  I said, “Instead of cracking jokes, I need you to find it within yourself to write a couple of sentences in the next chapter—”

  “Sam, you don’t know what you are asking. I can’t—”

  “I need you to buckle down and do this one thing.”

  “Sam...” and he looked from me to his desk, and I saw the sweat on his brow. “That story has caused a lot of upheaval in my life.”

  “And you’ve caused a lot of upheaval in her life,” I said, jabbing a thumb in the general vicinity of the glowing hallway behind me.

  “Sam, I don’t know what you want from me...”

  “I want you to write two or three sentences, tops.”

  “And what will these sentences say?”

  I thought about that. I wasn’t a writer. I was barely a texter. Hell, most of my texts were riddled with misspellings. Once, not long ago, I tried posting something on Facebook, and edited what had been once been a page down to just a few sentences. Then deleted it altogether. No, I wasn’t a writer, but Charlie was, and he needed to wake up.

  Allison jumped in. “Then just make a few notes. You said it yourself, the wardrobe isn’t even in the book yet.”

  I looked at him. “We need just a few lines of notes. Can you do it?”

  “I... I don’t know. What is it you are asking?”

  “Write us into your book. At least, into your notes.”

  “Wait,” said Allie. “What’s to stop him from making us a recurring character or something? What if we can never leave?”

  I said, “Charlie can’t control when we come and go. He can only open a doorway. It’s our decision whether or not we accept the invitation. And our decision when we return.”

  “You seem to know a lot about something that we all have just barely been introduced to...” Charlie began, but trailed off when I gave him a small suggestion that I knew what I was talking about and that he should let it go. He nodded.

  “Sam, can I talk to you?” said Allison, and we ducked out of the office, leaving Charlie to stand before the glowing archway, scratching his head.

  Once in another of many hallways, Allison spun me around. “But do you, Sam? Do you really know what you are talking about?”

  “Kinda sorta,” I said.

  “Kinda sorta doesn’t keep me from being trapped in the World of Dur for the rest of my life, as appealing as that might sound, or even get us there in the first place.”

  “The world is real, Allie. You can see that. It’s just a matter of getting us there.”

  “Well, can’t you do your flame thingy?”

  “I could, but it won’t work.”

  “How do you know it won’t work?”

  “His world is exclusive,” I said.

  “Exclusive?”

  “Invite only.”

  “So he really does have to write us in?”

  “He does.”

  “And you know this how? Never mind. Talos,” she said, reading my mind.

  “I had a talk with him on the way over,” I said.

  “Fine,” said Allison. “But I want to go on record that this is your hare-brained idea.”

  “Duly noted,” I said.

  We found Charlie pacing before the arched opening into the hallway, within which I could see Autumn on her knees, her head bowed, perhaps in prayer. He looked at us when we came in. “I dunno, you two. If this is real, and it’s maybe, maybe looking like it is, I can’t in good conscience send you to my world. It’s a very dangerous world.”

  “We can handle ourselves,” I said, and gave him another suggestion to believe that we were very capable women who, in fact, could very much handle ourselves.

  “I believe you,” he said. “But in what capacity do I write you in? I mean, I can’t just have two women from Earth show up in my world.”

  He ran his fingers through his hair, grabbed hold of it and really pulled. Ouch.

  Allison jumped in. “She’s in there praying now, right?” she asked, looking at me.

  “Yes,” said Charlie. “I can hear her. My God, I can hear her.”

  “Well, what if her prayers are answered?”

  “What do you mean?” he asked, stopping before her.

  Allison looked at me. “That’s all I had.”

  I jumped in. “What if two angels appear, sent from God, in answer to her prayers?”

  “Two angels?”

  “Yes.”

  Charlie was lost in thought. Either that, or he was having a very inappropriate fantasy. “Yes,” he said. “Even better, I can leave the two new characters—you and Allison—undefined, and allow Queen Autumn to decide what they—you—are.”

  “There you go,” I said.

  “Now, you just need to write us into your notes,” said Allie. “Do you think you can do that much?”

  “I-I think so, yes.”

  “And can you do it now,” I said. “The queen needs our help.”

  Charlie nodded, then nodded a little more vigorously. “Yes, by God. I can at least do that!” He hustled around his too-big desk and settled in. He cracked his neck and fingers. His computer fired up.

  I turned and looked through the archway, through the blue glow. On bended knee, Autumn now lay nearly prostate before us on in the floor, her hands before us, her hair splayed around her like something drifting on the surface of water.

  When the computer was up and running, and when Charlie had cracked every conceivable knuckle on his body—including, I think, his toes—and with Allison and I standing near the hallway entrance, Charlie took in a deep breath, and began typing...

  It didn’t take long at all for me to sense a change in the hallway.

  Despite myself, I gasped. A second or two later, Allison gasped, too.

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  “Sam, are you seeing what I’m seeing?” Allison asked.

  “I think so,” I said.

  “Seeing what?” asked Charlie, pushing away from his desk and coming around to stand with us. “Did it work?”

  “Yes,” I said.

  “Very much so,” said Allison.

  “Well, I still don’t see anything.”

  Indeed, the shimmering blue light was gone. So, too, was the ghost-like form of Queen Autumn. In her place was a very real-looking version of the new royal mother, as she bowed before us, deep in prayer. I knew it was prayer, because I could hear her quite clearly now.

  “She speaks English?” asked Allison.

  “Not quite,” said Charlie. “But for the sake of the story, her language is automatically translated into English. Which is probably why you can understand her. You can really see her?”

  “I can, yes.”

  “Why can’t I see her?” he asked.

  “Because you haven’t written yourself into the story,” I said.

  “I’m... I’m not sure I am prepared to do that,” he said.

  “You don’t have to,” I said. “You can keep the barrier between you and them.”

  “But that won’t stop them from seeking you,” said Allison. “Like Queen Autumn.”

  “Can she see you?” he asked.

  “Hard to say. She’s bowed down, but she would have heard us by now, I think.”

  “Why can’t she see you?”

  I thought about that. “Because this is our entry point into her world,” I said. “Not the other way around.”

  He shrugged. “Fine. So what now?”

  I looked at Allison; she looked at me. She took my hand again, and I was not very surprised to feel hers was sweating a little. I looked into the hallway, at the still-prostrate queen. “We go in,” I said.

  “Wait,” said Allie, and she took a few deep breaths and placed her hand over her heart.

  “What are you doing?” I asked.

  “A prayer to Mother Earth to anchor us.” She pointed down. “Look.”

  I was surprised to discover that a tiny silver cord that had appeared somewhere in the vicinity of my navel. It dropped down through the Spanish tile floor.

  “It goes all the way to Mother Earth’s heart, Sam. Now, we can never get lost. We need only to follow the cord home.”

  “Oh broth...” I began, and nearly rolled my eyes, but then saw the brilliance of her plan. “Actually, good thinking.”

  “Nice catch, Sam. And thank you.”

  “Are you ready?” I asked.

  “I am,” she said. “Should we leave our cell phones behind?”

  “Why?” I asked.

  “I dunno. Maybe they would be viewed as a kind of witchcraft.”

  “She does have a point,” said Charlie.

  “Fine,” I said, and we tossed our phones on a nearby end table.

  Once done, I looked back at Charlie, who seemed pained and anxious, then looked at Allison, who nodded. Together, we stepped through the archway.

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  The passing from one reality to another was not unlike teleporting.

  A small disorientation, followed by a stumble or two, and then a lot of blinking and taking it all in. And what I took in was nothing short of a dank, smallish room, composed entirely of massive, fitted rocks, with only a small, square window in the upper half of the room, from which pale light filtered through. The room itself was dark, but my eyes were alive and well, seeing the smaller light that wriggled through the air, and illuminated everything. Good to see my own skills had come through with me. Next to me, Allison held out her hand and a small ball of light appeared. She made another gesture and the light rose up and hovered near the ceiling, lighting up the place.

  A gasp from the floor, and then a small scream.

  After all, we were nearly standing on top of the stretched-out Queen Autumn, who was now sitting up on her knees and looking from one of us to the other. Lord, she was beautiful. And, yes, just a little off. Too beautiful. Eyes too round, cheeks too round, breasts too round. She was, no doubt, every man’s dream. At least, Charlie’s dream.

  The queen, upon taking us in—including our strange garb—was about to let loose with another scream, and this one wasn’t going to be small. It was gonna be huge and it was going to alert the guards that I knew, thanks to having read the book, were always stationed nearby. And since we couldn’t have that, I was behind her in a blink, covering her mouth with my hand. My cold, cold hand, which caused her to shudder. My life.

  “No screaming, Your Highness,” I whispered into her ear. “We’re here to help you find your baby.”

  I also gave her the most subtle of suggestions to trust us. The truth was, this was my first “other world” experience, and I was a little freaked out, too. Sure, I might switch bodies temporarily with Talos, and I might even be sitting quietly by his side in his own world, but my mind wasn’t with my body, not yet, although Talos told me I could someday experience his world, too. Although I might have gotten fleeting glimpses of his world, I had never fully immersed myself in it.

  You’ve been to other worlds, too, came Allison’s thoughts. The moon and Mars, remember?

  She was right, of course. Yes, I had tested the limits of my teleportation, and so far, there hadn’t seemed to be any. Limits, that is. Still, this world felt different. It wasn’t a barren planet or moon. It was real, and it was filled, I knew, with real characters with real hopes and dreams. Also real magic, and real monsters, too. A strange and thriving place. Yes, Charlie had quite the imagination.

  Meanwhile, Queen Autumn was beginning to struggle in my hands, and, since I didn’t want to hurt her, I gave her an even stronger suggestion to settle down. I telepathically asked if she understood me, and she nodded. I did not want trouble in a strange world. I mean, no more than was necessary. After all, I kinda liked Earth. And my kids. And Kingsley.

  And...?

  And you, too, Allie.

  I sighed and carefully released my hand from the queen’s mouth. After all, I wasn’t sure if my telepathic suggestions would stick in this new world. Alas, she looked frightened but didn’t scream.

  So far, so good.

  I stepped around the queen and held out a hand. She stared at me as if she were seeing a ghost. How’s that for irony? Finally, she took it and I helped her to her slippered feet. She towered a good eight inches over me, which put her at damn near six feet tall.

  “Who art thou?” she asked. She spoke with a lilting accent to her words, and I wondered if Charlie had unwittingly imagined characters with a slight British accent. She hid the fear in her voice; she was a strong woman.

  I considered her question. Should I tell her my real name? Would any of this, somehow, make it into the novel? I wasn’t sure what would be written, and what would be considered “behind the scenes.” After all, in the novel, her baby had very much been kidnapped, and the reader was left heartbroken. I know I sure was. I felt the queen’s pain, perhaps more so than most. Obviously, we were already in his notes, and thus a part of the fabric of his world.

  Still, I thought it best to give her a fake name. I said, “I’m Lady Tam Tam, and this is my servant girl, Allie the Wench.” I might have grinned.

  “I see,” said Queen Autumn. “And from where doth thou hail, Lady Tam Tam?”

  “I haileth frometh—”

  Too much, Sam, thought Allie.

  I tried again. “We hail from the County of Oranges,” I said.

  “The County of Oranges?” she said. “And where is this county? I have not heard of such a place.”

  “It is nestled along the western shores, Your Highness. Famous for its beaches, babes, and plastic surgeons.”

  Sam! hissed Allie in my mind.

  “Plastic surgeons?” asked the queen.

  “It is a special type of wizard, Your Highness, trained in the dark arts of reducing age and enlarging breasts.”

  “Mayhap I would like to visit such a surgeon. I have surely aged a decade or two in these past few weeks alone.”

  “Weeks?” I asked, confused.

  “Yes. Two weeks ago to this day, my baby girl was taken from me.”

  I considered. What had been two weeks for her, was four months for us, since Charlie had last put pen to paper, as the writers of old used to say. Then again, it would make sense that her world hadn’t kept pace with our world. Why should it? Charlie could sit down and simply start the story where he had left off, with no time elapsing in their world at all.

  I said to the queen, “It is why we are here, Your Highness.”

  She put a hand to her chest. “I do not understand.”

  I took in some air, and noted it was clean and fresh and no doubt suffused with the right amount of oxygen. A good thing because otherwise, Allison wouldn’t have made it this far. She glanced at me and nodded. It hadn’t occurred to me to worry about such a thing, but it had worried Allison. Of course, I wouldn’t have known it worried Allison, since she kept me blocked from her thoughts these days.

  Focus, Sam, she intoned in my thoughts.

  I nodded, released the breath, looked straight into Queen Autumn’s beautiful eyes, and said, “God has heard your prayers, Your Highness. And He sent us to help.”

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  She stared at us.

  We were certainly stare-worthy. I was dressed in a black tee-shirt with the words: “Think Pink” scrawled in pseudo-lipstick across the chest. My distressed jeans had stylish tears in the knees. Viewed from her regal perspective, they undoubtedly looked anything but stylish. My sneakers glittered with silver and were as cute as cute could be. But to a princess, they might have looked, well, enchanted.

  Allison was dressed in an unbuttoned maroon flannel shirt, with a black tank top underneath. Her jeans were black, as were her silver-tipped black boots. Allison tended to dress a bit bleaker—

  Insert stylish, came her words.

  —than me. One would think she was the vampire and I was the nerdy telephone hotline psychic.

  Hey!

  Ignoring Allison, I said to the queen, “We dress unusually in the County of Oranges.”

  “I would say so. Although, I do find your attire rather intriguing. Mayhap I could try on a pair of similar trousers?”

  “Er, mayhap,” I said, and wondered if Charlie could write in a village Gap store. Le Gappe Shoppe?

  “And you are really here in answer to my prayers?”

  “Yes, Your Highness.”

  “And the Good Lord sent you?”

  “Yes, Your Highness.”

  “All the way from the County of Oranges?”

  “Yes, Your Highness.”

  “And you heard the Lord’s call?”

  “We did, yes.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “You are close to the Lord?”

  “I am, in a way.”

  “You are a sort of priestess then?”

  I did my best to remember if this land approved of priestesses or not, but couldn’t remember. “In the sense that I have direct communication with the Creator, then, yes, you could say that I’m a priestess.”

  She nodded. “And how did you get past the guards?”

  I glanced at the open wardrobe, which, from this side of the room, looked far more intricate and immaculate than I could have imagined.