“Mom, if you were a superhero, what kind would you be?”

It’s not a question that catches me by surprise. Daniel has been on a superhero kick ever since he turned nine, and got a stack of comic books for his birthday. And as we lie on top of a grassy hill, snuggling close and staring up at the stars, it seems the perfect time for waxing philosophical.

“Hmm. How about one who protects and serves the community?”

Daniel giggles, and shoves at me playfully. “You’re already a cop, Mom! I mean like, if you could pick a set of superpowers to help you at work and stuff, which one?”

The first thing that comes to mind is a superpower to finish paperwork instantly. Or maybe something to make criminals confess. Is that a Wonder Woman thing? Still, these were boring answers, and probably not what Daniel was hoping for. “How about… super strength?”

“Everyone’s already got super strength.” Daniel huffs, and rolls his eyes in such a perfect picture of childish indignation it takes a significant amount of effort not burst out laughing. “You’ve gotta pick something cooler.”

“Cooler, huh?” The little twerp is clearly fishing for a specific answer, but wants me to guess. I grin. “Then maybe I’ll take a super power of tickling, where I tickle all the bad guys into submission!” I of course, punctuate this by launching into a tickle attack on Daniel, and earn all the requisite shrieks and giggles and protests that come with it.

Once Daniel finally manages to wriggle out of my grasp, he scrambles to sit a few feet away from me, red faced and wary. “It’s not that either.”

I cross my arms over my chest. “Well, what superpower do you think I should have?’

Before he can open his mouth to reply, my phone buzzes in my pocket, sharp and crisp against the nighttime air.

My work phone.

Daniel’s face falls so dramatically it feels like a knife to my heart. “Mooom,” he whines. “You promised.

Just how long has it been since I’ve had an uninterrupted weekend to spend with my son? But it’s not like I can ignore this either. I pull the phone out of my pocket, and find a text alert waiting for me. A body has been found on Fourth Street.

I can already feel the twinges of a headache coming on, and I know i have a long night ahead of me. I do my best to sound inspiring, but I suspect it mostly comes out as weary. “I’m sorry, sweetie, but you know how it is. Evil never sleeps, and we heroes always have to be ready to fight for the side of justice.”

Daniel crosses his arms over his chest and lets out a long, overblown sigh. “I know, I know.” He stands up and sticks his hands into his pockets, eyes downcast. “You should have a cloning superpower. So you can be in two places at once.”

Another barb of guilt worms its way deep into my heart. I do my best to smile, then take Daniel by the hand and lead him back to the house. This will be the last time, I swear to myself. I’ll find a way to transfer to another department, one with no expectation of on-call work. If I adjust the budget a bit, I’m sure I can take a small pay cut.

How many times have I sworn the exact same thing?

---

With a grunt, I shove the last box onto the back of Dave’s pickup truck, then slump backwards and wipe the sweat off my brow.

Dave sighs, then slams the gate of the truck closed, and leans on it. He’s easily my closest friend on the force and is the first to volunteer to help with some stuff like this. He glances over the stack of boxes, his expression somber. “Sarah… you sure you okay with this?”

A twinge of buried pain rushes through me, and I grit my teeth and push it away. I’ve been doing so all afternoon. “I’m fine, Dave,” I say for the hundredth time. “Daniel’s been missing for three years now. I can’t hold onto all of his stuff forever. And I could really use the extra money from renting the room out.”

The pity in Dave’s eyes is poison, but it’s nothing I can handle. He shakes his head. “Well, I’d better get all this stuff off to the storage unit, then.”

“You sure you don’t want anything?” I stretch, my old bones popping uncomfortably. The light from the setting sun reflects off the windows of my small suburban home, getting in my eyes. “I believe the traditional payment for helping lift a bunch of heavy boxes is a pizza and some beer.”

Dave chuckles, but pulls his keys out of his pocket, jangling them meaningfully. “Not if I’m driving anywhere. I’ll just make you buy me lunch later.”

“Alright. Thanks for everything.” I step to the side, and watch Dave drive off, truck packed full of all the remnants of my teenage son.

For all that he could still be considered a teenager. He should be nineteen now. He should be away at college, growing apart with distance as kids are supposed to, but swinging by to visit on the holidays and during summer break.

He should be a lot of things.

I shake my head to clear my malaise, then head back inside and grab a beer from the fridge. If Dave isn’t going to bother, then more for me, right? It’s just me again, alone in a house that’s been empty for far too long.

I find my way into Daniel’s room, now completely bare. I still need to vacuum it, and paint over some of the scribbles and stains on the wall, and patch up that one hole he made after the golf club incident.

With a grunt, I sit down on the indent in his carpet where his mattress used to rest, and lean against the back wall. There are no tears, of course. I shed them all long ago, in the year after my baby boy didn’t come home one night.

And I couldn’t do anything about it. Even with the full might of the police department behind me, we couldn’t find any trace of him. I’ve saved dozens of lives over the course of my job, but in the end I couldn’t be a hero to my son.

I take a long swig of my beer, and wish I had something stronger. I shouldn’t be drowning my sorrows anymore, but with a day like this, I think I’ve earned the right to be a little self indulgent. I brace myself against the wall to push myself up, and my hand goes straight through it, my arm wrenching painfully with the unexpected give.

Son of a bitch. I pull my arm free, only to find that it wasn’t a section of weakened drywall that gave way. Rather, it’s a perfectly square panel in the wall that fell inwards. Either some odd flaw from construction, or…

I can see the shadows of objects in the hole. Definitely intentional. I reach inside, and my fingers close around something hard, round, and made of glass.

It’s a bong.

I stare at the pipe blankly for several moments before I burst out laughing .That cheeky little bastard, right under my nose. Sure enough, when I search the rest of his stash I find a small baggie of weed, along with a lighter, some paper, and a porno mag.

The magazine is rather tame, and kind of weird that it’s there at all, considering the existence of the internet. Maybe one of his uncles got it for him as a gag gift, or something. Although Daniel had been on a ‘vintage’ phase during the year he went missing.

My heart aches, but I push it away with a memory of coming home early one day to find Daniel burning incense with the windows open and a fan blowing air outside. I suppose I’d been too distracted to really think through the implications at the time.

It’s a good memory. An odd thought occurs to me, and I pick up the weed. Maybe if I smoke it, I’ll somehow be a little closer to Daniel. And I doubt there will be any drug tests at work in the near future.

I grab the paper, thinking to roll it up, but then frown. It’s not rolling paper, like I expected, but a sheet of printer paper, folded in on itself. When I pull it open, I find a printed image from Google Maps, of what looks like downtown. Three locations are circled in red, with arrows drawn to a central point between them. Various numbers and some shorthand math can be found in the margins as well.

Some leftover math homework, maybe? I don’t know why he’d bother hiding it in his stash, though.

I’m about to put it aside when my eye catches something on the page, and my blood runs cold. The printer left a date on the corner.

Three days before my son went missing.

My heart pounds in my chest, and I feel flickers of that dreadful emotion that I’d tried oh so hard to stamp out entirely.

Hope.

I already tried everything I could think of to find my son. The room had been searched thoroughly, though not thoroughly enough to find a hidden wall panel normally blocked by the mattress. I’d gotten records on his searches and location history from Google. He’d been searching a lot about fairies, old books, and libraries before he went missing, but he’d always liked fantasy stuff, so it didn’t really stand out.

Unfortunately, his phone had been off the day he went missing, so location history was no help. But a simple map, with some triangulation done to find a central point… I look at the map a little closer, and realize it’s in the bad part of town. A lump forms in my throat. Could the faeries be a metaphor for drugs, or something? I’m not one to decry weed as a gateway drug, but if he was getting involved with the wrong crowd…

The hope that I might be able to find some glimmer of closure is an insidious poison, but it’s one I know I have no chance of resisting. The sun has already set, but before I know it, I’m already throwing on my coat and strapping my pistol into its holster.

I have to know.

---

This is a monumentally stupid idea.

This thought keeps running through my head as I park in the parking lot of a rundown McDonalds, not too far from the center of this map. I’ve already plugged the location into my phone, and have a good idea of where to go from here.

It’s dark, though. A lot of the street lights in this area are busted, and there’s no moon out tonight. The crime rate in this area of town is incredibly high. The officers I know whose jurisdiction this is are always stressed to the breaking point.

I should call for backup. I should come back when it’s daytime. Instead, I press forward, hyper aware of my surroundings.

In theory, one can avoid predators by presenting an air of confidence, of intimidation. Give the impression that you’re too much trouble to deal with, and they’ll seek out easier prey.

It’s a little hard for me to be intimidating as a 5’2 white woman pushing forty.

I feel eyes on me as I make my way through the streets, but for whatever reason, my approach is working. Most look away when I glare back at them. One man hollers and walks across the street towards me, but I push back my jacket to reveal my pistol, and he decides to hurl insults at me from a safe distance. I ignore them.

When I get to the area circled on my map, it’s not quite what I’m expecting. Not that I really know what to expect. Two apartment buildings, low income housing right next to each other. Exactly the same as the dozen other buildings I passed on the way over.

If whatever Daniel was looking for is in one of these apartments, then I’m out of luck. The sheet of paper didn’t include a specific address, and searching every apartment for some trace of him would be absurdly impractical, and assuredly illegal.

There is, however, a narrow alleyway that leads between both buildings. As I stare into it, the shadows inside seem to darken. A chill breeze wafts from within, carrying upon it the scent of flowers.

My heart pounds in my chest. I lick my lips, pull a sturdy flashlight from my belt, unclip my holster, and prepare to do exactly what I have many times screamed at horror movie protagonists for doing.

My high powered beam of light illuminates the narrow walls, but not nearly as much as it should. As I step into the alley, the sounds of the city grow muffled and distant, until it seems like I’m completed isolated. There are no windows facing into this alley, just solid brick stretching twenty stories up.

There don’t seem to be any side passages or doors leading into this alley. It’s even remarkably free of trash. No discarded cans, dirty syringes, or used condoms in sight. The hair of my neck stands on end, and I spin to check my six.

There’s nobody there, of course. Though the way the walls stretch behind me towards a tiny sliver of light from the street I’ve left behind sends a shiver down my spine.

In front is a dead end, I can see as I get closer. Both apartment buildings are flush with a third, in a way I’m not entirely sure is up to code. Either way, it means there’s nothing here to see, and I’ve been getting myself all worked up for nothing.

I sigh, and get ready to turn around, but before I can, my flashlight falls on something interesting. There are mushrooms growing up through cracks in the pavement, in a variety of shapes and sizes and colors. They’re arranged in a rough circle, right before the end of the alley.

It seems familiar somehow, and it takes me a minute before my memory catches up to me. I have a vague memory of reading storybooks to Daniel, and one of them talking about fairy rings. Circular growths of plants or mushrooms purported to have mystical powers.

There’s no point in considering a supernatural explanation, of course. It’s completely irrational. But here, as isolated as I am from the rest of a city, a part of me wants to latch onto anything. “Daniel?” I ask, my voice barely a whisper, and step into the ring.

Nothing happens, and nobody answers. My heart twists, mostly in embarrassment for allowing myself to hope at all. Daniel is gone, and even if he did come here, any clues would have long since washed away. I turn around and head to the mouth of the alley.

The light coming from the street is bright, almost painfully so as I grow closer. I shield my eyes, and press forward.

My eyes squinted, I can hear the chirping of birdsong, and the smell of a forest in bloom.

I stop at the mouth of the alley, which is no longer the mouth of an alley. I stand at the bottom of a hill, a rough hewn stone cave behind me. Trees stretch in front of as far as I can see, a winding dirt path leading between them. A deer catches my eye in the distance, then bounds away. The sun shines above, midday instead of the near midnight it had been minutes ago.

It’s hard to really process everything that I’m seeing. It has to be a dream, right? Or perhaps those mushrooms were hallucinogenic, and… release clouds of spores when someone comes near?

It sounds stupid even as I think it. I reach up and pinch my cheek. It hurts.

I get the striking impression that I’m not in southern Chicago anymore.

Then, I hear someone scream.

---

My instincts take over, and as I run towards the scream, any thoughts of how insane this situation is are pushed to the side. My boots pound across rough earth as I charge down the path, straining my ears to try and orient myself better.

Another scream breaks the silence, closer, and to my left. It’s a woman, and the sound is quickly joined by the crying of a baby and the panicked whinny of a horse. I dive into the underbrush, branches whipping at my face and tugging at my jacket.

In moments, I burst into the open and nearly tumble down a river bank. I grab onto a nearby tree for balance, then pause to gather my surroundings.

There’s a stone bridge nearby, and a horse-drawn wagon is taking up most of it. A young woman stands next to it with a baby in her arms, her back against the wagon as small winged creatures flit about in the air about her.

I hesitate, icy tendrils of fear wrapping themselves around my heart. Demons is the first word that comes to mind to describe them. Vaguely humanoid, with deformed proportions. Dark reddish skin, and leather bat wings. I’ve never been particularly religious, but all sorts of doubts are worming their way through my skull.

One of the demons shrieks, then dives at the woman, razor sharp claws glinting in the sunlight.

I reach for my gun, but there’s no way I can draw and get a good line of sight in time, especially with the demons so close to her.

Luckily, the woman ducks, and the demon’s claws scythe just inches above her head, tearing deep rents into the side of the wagon before tumbling over the top and taking back to the air.

The creatures are laughing, in high pitched jittery bursts as they circle the woman, now prone.

I finishing drawing my pistol, flick off the safety, and fire into the river.

The crack of the gunshot echoes throughout the forest, sending a nearby flock of birds up into the air. Woman and demon alike turn toward me, eyes wide.

I advance several paces, training my gun on the closest demon. “Hands in the air!” I shout. As a command it doesn’t make a lot of sense in this context, but old instinct dies hard. “Land on the ground, away from that woman, or I will use lethal force.”

The demons—there are three in total—look at each other, confusing registering on their ugly faces. Crap, can they even speak English? As if to answer my question, the biggest demon lands on the edge of the stone bridge, it’s barbed tail wrapping around the support pillar. “We only want the child, human,” the demon rasps, its voice guttural. “Do not interfere, or we will tear you apart as well.”

The woman whimpers, and clutches her screaming baby close to her chest. “No, you can’t have him!”

“Last chance,” I growl, and take another step closer. Did it even recognize the threat of a gun? “Leave now, or I’ll put a bullet through your head.”

The demon laughs, throwing its head back. Then it leaps off the pillar, diving straight towards me.

I squeeze the trigger, and my shot takes it right between the eyes. It drops like a rock, tumbling to the ground in a pile of limbs and claws.

Good to know that bullets can actually hurt them.

The other two demons stare at their fallen comrade for a moment, then shriek in rage, both of them darting in opposite directions.

Crap. I start tracking one on its left, but it’s moving fast. I squeeze out one shot, and miss. I try to lead the second shot, and clip it in the wing, but it’s not enough to bring it down. It quickly reaches the tree line, and is out of sight.

I’ve spent a lot of hours at the range—especially ever since Daniel went missing—but fast moving aerial targets aren’t exactly covered in most training regiments. A brief image of an obstacle course filled with drone targets enters my mind. Maybe I’ll bring it up at the next budget meeting.

I hear a rush of air behind me, and I dive to the side. Stinging pain lances across my back, and I tumble to the ground as the second demon flies past me, pulling up as it shrieks with delight.

Still prone, I ignore the pain and twist, raising my gun and firing three shots in quick succession. One of them hits the mark, and the demon drops into the river, where his thrashing body is quickly carried downstream.

Eight bullets left. I have one extra magazine in my jacket, but that’s all I brought. I have a sneaking suspicion that I won’t be able to find any ammunition stores in the immediate area.

I push myself to my feet, ignoring the agony on my back. I can feel hot blood soaking my clothes, but the cut feels shallow, thankfully. I keep my gun trained on the forest, eyes darting in every direction.

A tree rustles, and the demon bursts into the air some distance away, heading straight up, I fire immediately, but it’s another miss. Rather than wheeling towards me, it keeps flying up, and away. It’s running.

I don’t take my eyes off it until its just a dot in the distance, then let out a long sigh of relief. I flip the safety back on, holster my gun, then finally turn and approach the woman and child. “Hey, are you alright?”

The woman is young and beautiful, with long strawberry blonde hair cascading down her back, and her expression a mixture of both relief and worry. Her most striking features, however, have to be her long, slender ears that come to a point.

I watched The Lord of the Rings, same as everyone else. I know what an elf is. I remind myself to freak out about all of this in a little bit.

The woman takes a deep breath, then glances towards her cart. “I’m fine, thank you for saving me. But… you’re hurt.”

“It’s just a flesh wound,” I say, trying to smile through the pain. I suspect it looks strained. “A wound on my back is going to be hell to treat by myself, though. I don’t suppose you know basic first aid, or where I can find a hospital around here? Or, er, a doctor, or a healer, or a medicine man, or whatever you call it.”

“I have some knowledge in the arts.” The woman rocks her baby in one arm, but she inclines her head in a bow. “My name is Allyandrea, and I’ll be happy to assist you. Miss, um…?”

“Sarah,” I say. “Sarah Parker.” I step forward, and offer my hand in a handshake, which make her eyes go wide. Before I can consider my potential social faux pas, a wave of dizziness washes over me, and my legs buckle, and I’m suddenly staring at a wagon wheel, my cheek pressed against cool stone.

“Oh no!” Allyandrea cries out. Her voice is distant and muffled. She falls to her knees beside me, and I feel her cool hand against my back, which sends a fresh wave of agony through me. “It caught you with the tail, Nn’jitz are very poisonous!”

That doesn’t sound good. Poison, huh? Not exactly how I expected to go. Still, this whole experience is basically a mushroom laced drug trip anyway. Perhaps this is my body’s way of telling me I’m actually overdosing or something.

Or maybe it’s all real. I can’t understand the elf girl anymore, and darkness seeps in around the edges of my vision. Is this what happened to my son? Did he stumble into some generic fantasy world, only to meet his death at the hand of some sort of hideous monster?

Whatever the answer, It’s not one I’ll understand before unconsciousness claims me.

---

I wake to the sound of a baby crying.

Old, motherly instincts kick in, and I sit up, ready to shuffle over to the baby. A wave of dizziness washes over me when I do, and I clutch the bed for support.

I’m… in a bed? Well, that has to be a good sign. The dizziness fades, and I blink the rest of the sleep out of my eyes so I can focus on my surroundings. I’m in a room with wooden walls and a bare floor. Sunlight streams through cracks in shuttered windows.

There’s a full length mirror not far from the bed, and I take a good look at myself. My dirty brown hair has come loose from its usual ponytail and is a complete, tangled mess. About usual for my mornings. I’m covered in sweat, like I’ve just woken up from a fever, and I’m naked from the waist up, with a bandage wrapped tightly around my abdomen. It itches fiercely.

Right. I was stabbed by a poisonous demon. I guess I received medical treatment in time. That’s a good thing. The story of Sarah Parker isn’t over yet. I take a deep breath, then look up. The baby is still crying.

I stand up, my legs wobbly, and make my way over to the crib in the corner. The baby is maybe a year old, with a mop of curly blonde hair that’s heart meltingly beautiful. His ears come to points, and I’m sure this is the same baby I saw on the road. Allyandrea was the mother, right?

“Hey there. It’s okay, shush now.” I lean down to scoop the child up in my arms, and hold him close against my chest, rocking him back and forth.

He squirms a bit, but his crying abates, and he latches onto my nipple. He’s not going to get anything from it, but I suspect it’s comforting anyway.

Old memories flow through me, along with a rush of endorphins. It seems like only yesterday that I was nineteen, a single mother after a one night stand, and an ego the size of a barn. Too stubborn to get an abortion, I was certain I could handle motherhood while still getting a degree in criminal justice.

Somehow, I did handle it, mostly thanks to the hardworking efforts of my own parents. Even then, there were so many sleepless nights I spent cradling my infant son, doing my best to lull him back to sleep.

The boy looks up at me and our eyes meet. He lets out a pleasant coo, apparently not at all alarmed that I’m not his mother, and continues his fruitless search for milk.

Before I can revel in the nostalgia of child-rearing any longer, the door to the room opens, and Allyandrea stands in the doorway. She’s out of breath, and a canvas satchel is slung over her shoulder.

We make eye contact, and I feel myself flush with embarrassment. Not because of my nudity, but because here I am handling a stranger’s baby without permission.

“I’m so sorry,” Allyandrea says, panting heavily. She sets the sack on the ground, then runs over to take the boy from my arms, pulling apart her outfit to reveal her own breast and present it to him. “I only meant to run to the market real quick for supplies, but it was crowded today and… I hope he didn’t give you any trouble.”

I smile, and spread my hands in a placating gesture. “It’s no trouble, really. I have a son of my own, though he’s… fully grown, by now. Has been a long time since I’ve had to handle any babies, but I still remember how it’s done. He’s very cute. What’s his name?”

Allyandrea smiles wide, her teeth perfectly white. “My son’s name is Dalandric. He’s very handsome, much like his father.”

“He’s got your eyes, though.” I stretch, hearing my bones pop, and my injury goes taut with pain. I disguise my wince, then look around the room. I should probably put a shirt on. I spot a pile in the corner that appears to be my belongings, and move over to it. There’s a tear that goes straight through my jacket and undershirt, so that won’t be doing me any good. My utility belt is there, however, along with my pistol, nightstick, pepper spray, handcuffs, spare ammo, and flashlight. I hoist it in the air, then turn to find Allyandrea offering me a shirt.

It’s a dull blue tunic, made out of silk, seemingly. It’s a bit tight on me, but I slip it on over my head, and it does the job well enough. I buckle on my belt, then move over to the window, and throw open the shutters.

A sprawling, medieval town bustles below me. People mill about, shout deals at the top of their lungs. The air smells of hay and horses, and the buildings look straight out of the set of some fantasy film. Had I not been forced to fight literal demons earlier, I might chalk up “wandered onto the set of a movie” as a legitimate explanation.

Still. Whether this is all real or not is kind of a pointless question. I can only experience the reality I see and hear, and I gain the same benefit from questioning the authenticity of this reality as I did questioning reality back home.

That is to say, absolutely nothing.

“Where am I?” I ask anyway.

“Um…” Allyandrea fidgets behind me, then takes a step closer. “This is the village of Elseworth. I was pretty close when I was beset upon by those demons, and when you saved me, I rushed you here as fast as I could.”

I look over my shoulder at her. She looks young, maybe just a teenager. Though she’s also an elf, who are allegedly immortal and eternally youthful. Maybe she’s actually a thousand years old. “Thanks for saving me.”

Allyandrea curtsies, an awkward gesture with a baby in her arms, “I guess we saved each other.”

“Anytime.” I turn back to watch the bustle outside, my thoughts drifting back towards my purpose for coming here. Whatever kind of weird magic bullshit brought me to this world… Daniel was looking for this, or looking for something. If Daniel went to that alleyway, there’s a chance that he ended up here.

No, more than just a chance. Hope burns like a fire inside my heart, not a poison this time, but something real, and tangible. If he came here, then it would make sense why we never found any trace of him before. He has to be here. This is a real lead.

My hands are shaking, and I swallow hard.

“You’re… not from this world, are you?” Allyandrea asks.

I start at the question and turn around. It seems a little odd to ask that so directly, but what do I know? “What gives you that idea?”

Allyandrea shrugs, and looks away. “Your clothes, the way you talk, the shape of your face. Those strange artifacts you carry, that weapon of yours. It all paints a certain picture.”

“Are… otherworldly travellers common around here?” I ask, and raise an eyebrow.

“I wouldn’t exactly say that they’re common, but yes, some have passed through this way from time to time.”

There it is. My mouth goes dry, and I clench my fists tight.

“Allyandrea, hurry up and grab the kid! We’re late for our shift at the temple!” a woman calls from somewhere below them.

Allyandrea blanches, and hoists Dalandric up over her shoulder. “I’m so sorry, I lost track of time again! I need to get going. You’re free to stay here and rest up. If you’d like, you can go outside, get some fresh air, explore the town. There’s a bag with a little bit of money on the dresser.”

She runs through her goodbye, the words tumbling out of her before I have any time to react, and a few moments later, she’s out the door.

Well, so much for that. All alone in a strange world, with nobody around to guide me, and no real leads. Still, I should be able to handle myself. I took Daniel to a renaissance faire once when he was eleven.

My phone buzzes in my pocket. I’d almost forgotten it was there. I fish it out, and find that it’s an alarm telling me to wake up and go to work. Great. How many sick days do I have left, anyway? Something tells me it won’t be enough. Will Dave come looking for me, the same way I did for Daniel, and find himself here? Unlikely. I didn’t leave any notes behind, because I’m an idiot.

There’s no signal on my phone, unsurprisingly. The battery is down to thirty percent, so I shut it off. I doubt I’ll find any way to charge it here, so might as well save it for emergencies.

With a sigh, I double check to make sure I have all of my belongings, then head out into the town proper.

---

The streets are teeming with life and activity. Men and women in old fashioned garments bustle this way and that, carrying things, shouting things, dumping pots of things into smelly piles. Most of the people here appear to be human, or at the very least, have rounded ears, though I spot the occasional elf wandering about. I have no real destination in mind, so I follow the flow of traffic, and soon find myself in a marketplace of some sort.

The coin purse Allyandrea gave me is full of copper and silver coins. I have no idea what they’re worth, but my stomach growls when I look at the various street vendors selling fresh food, and I decide to try my luck. I stop in front of an apple cart staffed by a burly man. Two coppers a piece, apparently.

One transaction later, and I bite into the apple. It’s a lot more tart than I really prefer, but food is food. Perhaps this world hasn’t figured out how to breed for sweetness in apples yet. I take a few more bites, then wipe at my mouth with my sleeve.

The shopkeeper gives me an odd look, probably confused as to why some strange woman is eating it right in front of him and just standing there.

I clear my throat, my cheeks a little red. “Hi. Sorry, I’m uh, new in town. My name is Sarah.”

“Sarah? That’s an odd name.” He shrugs, one eyebrow raised. “I'm Barthandelus. You want another apple?”

“Uh, not right this second.” I bit my lip. What I want is information. Some random apple merchant probably isn’t the best place to get it. But I have to start somewhere. “Actually, I’m looking for someone. My son. I think he might have passed through here three years or so ago. Teenage boy, brown hair, maybe around five eight. His name is Daniel.”

Barthandelus blinks, then shakes his head. “Er, no, sorry. I’m not familiar with anyone like that. That’s an odd name, too.”

My heart sinks in my chest a little, but I’m not giving up that easily. I pull out my wallet and fish out a small photo of Daniel, taken during his sophomore year of highschool. “This is what he looks like. Are you sure you don’t recognize him?”

“Hmm.” He takes the photo and brings it close to his face. “This is an amazing portrait. But I don’t…” He frowns, then his eyes light up with recognition, and my heart soars. “Aha! I do know this boy. I remember seeing him in the market occasionally, several years ago. He was an odd one, always looking amazed by everything he saw. Never caught his name, though.”

It’s all I can do to refrain myself from grabbing this man and shaking him until he spills all of his secrets. Even so, I lunge forward, gripping the side of the apple cart and nearly knocking several apples off the edge.”You saw him. My son was here. Where did he go? Is he alright? Where is he now?”

Barthandelus holds up his hands. “Woah now. I said I saw him around occasionally. Haven’t seen him in quite some time now.” He crosses his arms over his chest, his brow furrowed in thought. “I guess about two years now. Which means… Oh.”

I wait, my breath caught in my throat. “Oh? What does ‘oh’ mean.”

He lets out a long sigh, and rubs at his temples. “Two years ago, many young men went up north to fight in the war against the Demon King.”

“Demon King?” I repeat, dumbfounded. It’s certainly an ominous title, but it doesn’t hold a lot of meaning. But… war? Was my little boy drafted into fighting a war that wasn’t even his? My knees buckled and I slump against the cart, suddenly with no strength left to stand. This time my jostling does knock several apples to the ground.

“Hey!” Barthandelus cries out. He comes to the other side of the cart, and his big hands wrap around my arms, supporting me. He shakes me gently, then lifts my head up to meet his gaze. “Look. It’s Sarah, right? Everyone should know this already, but you said you’re not from around here, so I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt. We won the war against the Demon King. He was slain by a great hero, and his hordes dispersed. A lot of soldiers didn’t come back home, but plenty did. And plenty more settled elsewhere. Just because your son didn’t return to our humble little Elseworth doesn’t mean he’s not still alive somewhere.”

Still alive. He has to still be alive, right? But my son was such a sweet, gentle boy. Always the first to help up a kid on the playground who tripped and fell. The thought of him in a war… bile rises up from my stomach. In my line of work, I’ve seen some of the worst of humanity. Drugs, murder, and rape. It’s been enough to harden my heart in a lot of ways.

But I don’t have any context for war. Instead, my mind draws context from Hollywood, and the grisly scene that plays in my mind is some sort of twisted cross between Braveheart and Saving Private Ryan. Starring Daniel Parker, right there in the center of all of it.

It’s too much. I bend over and hurl, losing those few bites of the apple, along with everything else in my stomach. Tears stream down my cheeks, mostly from the effort of vomiting, but in part due to my anguish as well.

Barthandelus sighs, and awkwardly pats me on the back. People are starting to stare, but its not like I have a reputation here to uphold.

A minute later and it’s all over. I spit on the ground several times, trying to work the remnants out of my mouth, then wipe the snot from my nose and the tears from my eyes. Barthendelus offers me a water skin, which I drink from greedily. It’s lukewarm and tastes like sweaty leather, but oh well.

“Are you alright, then?” he asks.

I nod. I’m not, but the despair and revulsion that overwhelmed me moments ago is already starting to resolve into determination. Daniel is here, he’s out there, somewhere, and I’m [i]going[i/] to find him.

Barthandelus takes a step back, eyebrow raised. “You look like you’re ready to wrestle a bear.”

“If I have to.” I pull out the coin purse again, and hand him a silver piece. “For your trouble. Look, I don’t know the worth of money here. Is this enough to travel north? To find my son?”

After briefly glancing through the money, he nods, and hands the purse back to me. “Should get you some supplies, enough to make it halfway, at least. It’s a long journey, and it comes with its fair share of dangers. Still, you seem like a capable woman.”

I take a deep breath. “Thank you for all your help, Bart.” I nod, fish my half eaten apple out of the grass, take a bite out of it, and make my way further into the market.

My shopping trip is fruitful, though I got fleeced for as much as a gullible outsider like me deserves .Even so, by the time the sun is setting, I am now the proud owner of a pack, a bedroll, a waterskin, enough dried fruit and jerky to last for a week, a map of the country, and, in my most expensive purchase, a thin shirt of silvery chain mail. The merchant swore up and down that it would stop knives and swords and arrows and claws. It’s probably too good to be true, but with a fresh injury still itching on my back, I decided to play it safe.

More importantly, the chainmail is in my size, and fits quite nicely. Not even major department stores can manage that sometimes.

With everything in tow, I make my way back to the building Allyandrea was staying at, though it takes me a bit to find it again. I want to discuss my plans with her, get her advice as a local, but she’s not back yet, so after struggling with the lack of modern plumbing, I lie down in bed and find myself drifting off to sleep.

---

I wake to the sound of the door slamming open, of frantic scrambling and heavy breathing.

I bolt upright, looking around, eyes wide. It’s dark, but there’s enough light streaming in from the windows to catch shadows. Someone’s rustling through a chest on far side of the room. “Where is it, come on!”

“Ally?” I ask. It sounds like her voice anyway. I reach over to where I set my utility belt, fumble my flashlight loose, and click it on.

Allyandrea turns to face me, startled at the sudden light. There’s a half crazed look in her eyes, her face is red from crying, and her dress has several long gashes in it.

“What’s wrong?” I immediately get out of bed and go over to her.

She takes a deep breath, then turns back to the chest, finally pulling out a necklace with a large blue sapphire embedded in it. She clasps it around her neck with trembling fingers, and when it rests against her skin, the gemstone starts to glow with a soft inner light. “They took him,” she manages to hiss, her teeth clenched.

I start getting dressed, throwing the chain shirt back on, along with my utility belt and holster. “Dalandric? Who took him, and where?”

“The demons. That… demon, the one that got away. I was in the temple for my usual duties, when it attacked. I never thought it could even enter such a sacred place… it snatched Dalandric out of his crib, and fled with him down into the catacombs. The temple guards went after it, but… I heard screaming. So I came back for this.” She takes a deep, shuddering breath, and closes one hand over the glowing stone. “With this, I might be able to…”

I have no idea what that stone can or can’t do. Magic, perhaps? Wouldn’t be too surprising, considering everything else in this world. I do one last check of my gear, then nod. “Lead the way.”

She blinks, then frowns. “You don't have to—”

One look from me silences her, and we both take off.

Allyandrea tears through the darkened streets like a mother whose son is in mortal danger. Luckily, the temple apparently isn’t very far away, because even adrenaline has its limits.

The temple is a fairly ornate building, with various murals of god like figures painted on its interior walls. I’m sure there’s all sorts of fascinating things to learn about religion in this culture, but I don’t care about any of it right now. Inside, several men and women in ornate robes are milling about, looking fitful in front of an open door that leads down a staircase.

Allyandrea barrels past them and charges straight down the stairs.

“Allyandrea, wait! It’s too dangerous, you’ll be killed!”

I hesitate for a moment. The priests look at me, I give them a half hearted shrug, and follow down after her.

The bottom of the stairs is bathed in darkness, save for the soft blue light of Allyandrea’s necklace. Luckily, she’s stopped, and is panting for breath.

“I’ll take point,” I say, and step in front of her, before bringing my flashlight up to illuminate a long, stone hallway. It’s full of cobwebs, and recesses in the wall hold coffins. Lovely. Catacombs was a literal term.

Allyandrea gives me an odd look. “You sound a lot like him. Like Daniel.”

I’m halfway through a step forward when she says this, and I freeze, my heart skipping a beat. I turn towards her slowly, my eyes wide. “You… know my son?”

She gasps softly, and it suddenly all falls into place. Dalandric’s face pops into my mind, and I’m astonished that I didn’t notice it earlier.

My… grandson.

My daughter-in-law.

Something unspoken passes between us in that moment. My bottom lip trembles, but then it’s back to business. My [i]grandson[i/] is in danger. We can have a touching reunion later.

“Where would it have taken him?” I ask. I start to advance forward at a cautious hustle and draw my gun, flicking the safety off and keeping it level with my flashlight.

Allyandrea hesitates for just a moment before she runs to catch up. She clutches her fingers around her necklace, and the blue light pulses. “I can sense a dark energy somewhere deep within. When you hit the crossroads, turn left!”

Cobwebs cling to my face, to my jacket. The air is dusty and moldy and makes me want to sneeze and run home and take a bath, but I push forward regardless.

When we reach the crossroads, I make a serious tactical mistake, and round the corner without checking first. But what I do see stops me in my tracks.

There are two fresh dead bodies lying on the ground, warm blood pooling around their limp forms. They’re wearing armor and carrying spears. Probably the temple guards Ally mentioned earlier.

Standing above them are two not so fresh bodies. Bare skeletons, standing upright, each with a rusty knife clutched tight in bony fingers. They move when I shine the light on them, hollow eye sockets turning to face me, like something straight out of a horror movie.

Training and instinct overcomes fear. I orient on the center mass of one, and squeeze the trigger. The gunshot is deafeningly loud in these tight corridors, and Allyandrea shrieks, covering her ears and falling to her knees.

The bullet clips a rib, breaking it off and sending a puff of bone dust into the air.

The skeleton looks down at the wound slowly, then back at me, its face locked an eternal grin.

Shit. I adjust my aim upwards, and put a bullet through its head. The skull shatters, bone shards ricocheting off the walls, and leaving a large chunk of it missing.

It doesn’t seem to care, and takes a step towards me, its knife raised, in tandem with its buddy.

I reach down and pull Ally to her feet, pushing her behind me even as I backpedal. “Any idea how to deal with these things?”

Ally shakes her head, still rubbing at her ears, then her eyes come back into focus. “I’ve got this!” she shouts. “Just hold them off for a few moments!”

She takes a deep breath, her necklace glows fiercely, and then she… starts singing. It’s hauntingly beautiful, in a language I don’t understand. Nothing happens other than the light though.

Right. Got to buy her time. I consider my options. Just wasting bullets with the pistol at this point, and will likely go deaf besides. I start to reach for my nightstick, but the skeleton I shot charges suddenly, coming at me with surprising speed.

I drop my gun and flashlight and react with the precision granted by hours of hand to hand training on how specifically to deal with a knife wielding attacker. I step to the side, catch the skeleton by the arm, and use its momentum to carry it over my shoulder in a judo throw.

It’s light. Far lighter than a person should be, which completely throws off my balance. I manage to slam the skeleton to the ground, but it lacks the punishing force it would normally have. It lies on the ground, staring up at me stupidly for a moment.

I stomp down with my boot on its head, hard. Its skull crumbles into pieces below me.

The skeleton pulls away, head detached, and starts crawling back to its feet.

“Oh come—”

My complaint is cut short as the second skeleton drives its knife into the small of my back.

It hurts like a bitch, but not in the sense of getting stabbed. More like getting punched. The chain mail did its job, and the knife skitters past my side, narrowly missing my unprotected arm.

With its arm extended past me, I grab ahold of with two hands and yank,.The arm pops off, and I spin, smacking the other skeleton in the face with its own arm. It falls backwards, and I toss the arm at it, since it continues to writhe in my grasp, knife flailing dangerously.

With both skeletons momentarily stunned, I snatch up my flashlight and gun quickly, then rejoin Ally in the far hallway. “Any time now,” I growl, my breath coming in short gasps.

Ally’s eyes are closed, but her song is reaching a crescendo. Blue, phantasmal fire arcs from her necklace, swirls around her, then swirls around me, before leaping into my gun.

I’m too stunned to drop it, even though it appears to be burning in my hand. It’s warm to the touch, though not painfully so.

“You should be able to banish their spirits with that,” Ally says, letting out a gasping breath. She slumps against the wall, looking drained.

I glance at my gun one more time, then turn back to the skeletons, who have regained their feet.

Aim carefully. Squeeze the trigger. Rather than the cacophonous thunderclap of a gunshot, it instead emits a hiss and pop, and a burst of blue fire streams towards the skeleton.

It connects with its sternum, and the fire immediately envelops the undead monstrosity. There’s a flash of a blue light, then it all fades, and there’s nothing left but a smoking pile of inert bones.

The second skeleton looks at its fallen companion, then back at me. Its bony features can only display its default macabre grin, but on some level it almost seems surprised.

My second magic bullet produces the same result, and the fight is over.

I slump onto the wall next to Ally, panting heavily, the adrenaline of combat still pumping through my veins. “Is that…” My voice is raspy, and I gesture vaguely towards the bones. “Are the undead a common problem down here?”

Ally shakes her head, her gaze distant. “That demon is doing something to this place. Awakening the dead to act as guardians.”

“Great. Do you think we’ll have to deal with more?”

“I don’t know, but the demon isn’t very strong .He shouldn’t be able to control that many.”

I nod, then pull my new waterskin from my belt, and drink from it greedily. I offer it to Ally, she does the same, and then we’re off once more. There’s no time to waste.

Several more skeletons attempt to ambush us, but fortunately they’re fairly clumsy, and my newly magic pistol is enough to make quick work of them. Ally directs me through the maze of hallways, left, then right, then right again. Soon, we can hear Dalandric’s cry echo through the halls, and we double our efforts.

We burst into a large antechamber, then stop in our tracks.

Dalandric lies on top of an altar, thrashing and screaming. Twisted circles of jagged lines are carved all over the room, and pulse with an ominous light. And the little demon bastard crouches over my grandson, dancing and raising its arms to the heavens. It’s the same one that got away from us earlier. I can tell by the small hole in its wing.

“Oh great lord!” The demon cries out, his voice jittery, almost orgasmic in its clear euphoria. “This child is of the seed of the hero that slew you! Accept this as your vessel and be reborn into this world!”

I raise my gun, aim, and pull the trigger. It clicks, and nothing happens.

Shit! I forgot to swap out the half spent magazine earlier. I immediately hit the release, and the magazine clatters to the ground, as I’m already grabbing my last magazine from my belt and slamming it into the gun in a practiced motion. It’s fast, and efficient.

The demon has time to notice us, though. Its eyes grow wide, and it screams in bloodcurdling rage, then jumps behind the altar to get cover.

I have my gun back up and trained on it, ready for whenever it jumps back into the open.

“Oh great lord!” The demon screams again, his voice shrill. “These interlopers seek to steal away your rightful prize. I beseech me, gift me the strength to tear them limb from limb!”

Something pulses through the room, the wumpf of a strong bass. I can feel it wash over me, and it leaves me feeling unclean, far more than the cobwebs and the dust ever could.

The demon laughs behind his altar, and the light in the antechamber dims for a moment.

With the sound of flesh tearing, the demon explodes into something much larger, a hulking humanoid form that stretches up to reach the ceiling, its muscled back the size of a pickup truck.

Slowly, the beast turns around, revealing a somehow even uglier face than before, but still full of just as many razor sharp teeth.

I raise my gun, and fire. One, two, three shots directly into its center mass. They still burn with holy fire, but if they have any effect on the demon other than mild annoyance, the only response I get is a wide grin.

I look at Ally, and she nods. We both dart in opposite directions around the room, and she starts singing once more, calling upon her magic. Whatever’s she’s doing this time, I sure hope it’s something big.

The demon roars, pounds its chest, then leaps over the altar, charging straight for me.

I run to the side, gun still raised, firing into it freely. Luckily, he’s such a big target, so every shot hits even when I barely aim. If they only made a difference, that would be nice. Six more bullets spent, six left.

This is the kind of thing an entire riot team should deal with, not one cop with a pistol!

The demon is frightfully fast, and pivots to charge at me again. I dive out of the way at the last second, and the demon slams into the far wall, impacting hard enough to shake the catacombs around us. If I’m hit with that, I’ll be little more than a smear of tomato paste on the wall.

As the demon turns, somewhat stunned, I raise my pistol, and on a whim, aim for the genitals.

It’s a direct hit, but still no good. Oh well. I scramble to my feet, and start retreating backwards once more. I spare a glance for Ally.

She’s reached the altar, and a swirling cloud of dark energy hovers above Dalandric. Fury burning in her eyes, she raises her hand, which glows with a fierce light. The darkness burns away, and I can sense a supernatural rage in the air.

Well, looks like she’s too busy to help. The demon has reoriented himself on me once more .I line up my shot, and aim for the head this time. The first one goes wild. The second grazes his cheek. The third hits dead center in his forehead. And bounces off.

I curse, and put my last two bullets in his chest, leaving me completely dry.

The demon laughs, his voice echoing throughout the room, then charges me once more, intent on finishing me off.

I go low this time, running at him in a fearsome charge of my own, then diving to slide underneath his leg. It’s a risky maneuver, but it works, and once again he crashes into the far wall, momentarily stunned.

When he turns back around, I’m there to greet him with a full can of weapons grade pepper spray directly to his eyeballs.

The demon howls in pain, scratching at his eyes and screaming bloody murder.

In an enclosed space with little to no ventilation, this is just as bad for us as it is for the demon, so I quickly shout, “Grab Dalandric and let’s get out of here!” then hold my breath and back away from the spreading cloud of noxious irritant.

Ally holds her necklace high above her head, the light from it almost as blinding as the pepper spray. With a defiant scream, she smashes it against the altar. A pulse of energy washes over me, making me feel good in all the ways the demonic energy didn’t. She lets out a long breath, glances at me, then scoops up Dalandric into her arms and sprints towards the hallway.

Even blind, full of fifteen gunshot wounds, and in excruciating agony, the demon roars, and charges towards us.

Its shoulders grind against the stone walls of the catacombs, and it can barely move forward. It roars again, and flexes, stone shuddering against its strength, bricks popping out of walls.

I decide not to stick around to see if the demon can free itself.

Fortunately, Ally remembers the way through the twisting tunnels, and we make our way through them, never stopping or slowing down. It seems like only minutes pass before we’re jumping over the corpses of those poor guards, rounding the corner, then up the stairs into the temple proper.

I collapse into an exhausted heap once we make it upstairs. My lungs are on fire, my eyes itch from that whiff of pepper spray, and my side has gone into a full blown stitch. Ally doesn’t seem to be faring much better, and poor Dalandric is still bawling his eyes out.

The temple has filled up with a lot more priests, and a whole squadron of what appear to be guards, and even one resplendent looking dude in full plate armor.

Ally manages to sum up the situation in a few short breaths, and the soldiers descend into the catacombs to finish the job we started.

I lie there, still out of breath, and look over at her. My daughter in law. And my grandson.

And I smile.

---

I sit on the edge of the bed, Dal curled up in my arms. It’s still amazing I never noticed it before. His eyes are his mother’s, but I can see my Daniel in his cheeks. In the way his brow furrows when he’s thinking about something.

Dal tugs on my ponytail, then giggles at the expression I make. Same as he has the last three times in a row.

The warmth that fills me in this moment is amazing, and euphoric. It’s something I’d forgotten. Something I was sure I’d never feel again. God—me, a grandmother. I’m not even forty yet. After so long missing my son, searching for him, being alone, shutting myself off emotionally. And now, this precious small child. A treasure I never expected or wanted or even considered, but will now give anything to keep safe.

The door opens, and I look up as Ally enters. Her hair is damp from the bath. She hesitates in the doorway, not making eye contact, then takes a deep breath and scurries over, sitting next to me on the bed.

I raise Dal to offer him to her, but she shakes her head. “You can hold him. He likes you.”

I nod. He’s already a year old. I have a lot of time to make up for.

We sit there in silence for several minutes, the only sounds that of a baby.

“So,” I finally say. “You’re my daughter in law.”

Ally winces, and looks away. “I, uh… Daniel and I were never joined in wedlock.”

I blink, and look over at her. She’s blushing furiously. “Oh.” I clear my throat, and shrug. “Well, that doesn’t matter to me. You’re the mother of my grandson. In my mind, that makes you family.” She has an odd look on her face, so I quickly add, “That is, if you to be.”

She bites her lip, her eyes searching mine for something. “Daniel always spoke very highly of you. He said that his Mom was always a great champion of justice. A hero, and that was why he wanted to be one too. I can see now that it’s true.”

My heart wrenches with both guilt and pride. Every parent wants their children to think the world of them, but I’d never really been able to give him the time he deserved. Yet he still spoke of me so highly? I feel tears brimming in my eyes, and I force them away. “Daniel disappeared from… my world, three years ago. It broke my heart, and I’ve never been the same since. But know that he was here with you, and little Dal... “ I reach out and run a finger along Ally’s cheek, and make a sound somewhere between a laugh and sob.

Ally smiles, and takes my hand in hers, but there’s sadness in her eyes. “Daniel never got to meet Dal. Two years ago, when things were getting bad, he signed up to go fight the Demon King. He promised me he’d return, and that night we…” Her face grows red, and she coughs.

“I see.” I think for a moment, then decide to pull Ally into a hug. She stiffens for a moment, then softens into the embrace. Dal is squished in between the hug, and he giggles happily, groping at his mother.

“I’m going to find Daniel,” I whisper into her ear. “That’s what I’ve wanted to do for the last three years. But now, well. I’ve never let him slack on on his responsibilities before, and I won’t let him do so now.”

Ally laughs, then lets out a long sigh. She’s silent for a long time, before she takes a deep breath, and nods. “I’m coming with you.”

I start, and pull out of the embrace, placing my hands on Ally’s shoulders. “Are you sure? You have a life here. A baby to raise. I don’t know a lot about this world, but I can’t imagine traveling long distances is very child friendly. I’ll bring him back to you, I promise.”

“It’s more than that.” Ally shakes her head, and there’s determination in her eyes. “Those evil bastards are after my son, for some reason. If I stay here, I’ll just be a target. But who better to keep him safe than Grandma the Hero?”

I laugh, despite myself. “Please don’t let that be my actual title.”

She sticks her tongue out, and continues. “Besides. Like you said, you don’t know this world very well. I can keep you out of trouble just as much as you can keep me safe. And I want to find Daniel too.”

“Alright, if you’re sure.” I gesture towards my pile of supplies in the corner. “I did my best to pack for a journey, but I’m sure you know more about what we’ll need.”

Ally nods. “We can figure out the logistics in the morning. It’s been a long night.” Ally yawns, and stretches. “I’m looking forward to it… Mom.”

My heart bursts with warmth at those words, and I give the most genuine smile I have in years. “Yeah, me too.”