I awake from a nap, jostled by the gentle movement of the train. At first, I’m startled and look around in confusion. But then I see the wood paneling, the flickering light and shade through the windows, and the gentle swinging of the overhead lanterns that run over the center aisle.

I sink back into my nice, soft seat and look out the window. I can see we’re still traveling through the hills of eastern Falnumbra. The rolling hills are dotted with pine trees, and though I can feel how cold it is outside when I press my hand against the glass, I can see the beginning buds of new leaves on the other trees. I lean closer, smiling eagerly as I take it all in.

“First time in this part of the country, dear?”

I give a start and whirl around in my bench seat. A middle aged woman across the aisle is smiling at me as she waits for my answer.

I blush, aware of how much like a tourist I must look. I nod and reply with “Mm-hmm.”

She chuckles. “Well, if you’ve never been, I’m sure you’ll love Bayopolis. It truly is a wonder.”

I nod, but I can’t help but look back over my shoulder, not wanting to miss even a moment of the wonders outside my window (at least, now that I’m awake to enjoy them).

“Well, I can see you’re not in a talkative mood,” the woman says as she gets comfortable in her own seat. She’s smiling, though, so I don’t think she’s offended. “Enjoy the scenery, dearie.”

“Th-thank you,” I mutter and turn to look out my window.

But then, all at once, the hills outside vanish and we’re left in complete darkness!

“Oh!” I cry.

“Shh, don’t worry,” the woman’s voice says to me. “We’re just going through a tunnel.”

“Oh… oh, of course.”

I breathe a sigh of relief, feeling silly about being afraid. I’ve only ridden a train a few times before, and this is my first time going through a tunnel. Of course I knew that sometimes trains went through them, but still…

“You’ll be in for a treat once we come out the other side,” the woman says with a chuckle. “Ever see White Coney Bay with your own eyes?”

“No,” I murmur. “But I’ve seen pic--”

All of a sudden, the blackness is whisked away and we’re outside again. For a moment I wince, blinded by the sudden sunlight, but then my eyes adjust, and I see it for the first time.

“Oh,” I breathe, my voice catching in my throat as my jaw drops open.

Before me, stretching out to where the heavens meet the land, is White Coney Bay. The sapphirine water gleams and shines with the light from the midday sun. I have never before seen the ocean, and even though I’ve seen pictures in books and read descriptions of it, I cannot believe that something so massive, so pure, so seemingly infinite could truly exist.

I spy the ships in the distance and wonder about their destination. Are they coming home, or are they going further out to sea? It seems impossible to believe that this incredible expanse of water continues well beyond the horizon, and yet I know it to be so. I imagine the tiny boats out on the ocean and for a moment I feel as though I’ve glimpsed my own place in the vastness of the world. I see how tiny I am in the great expanse of the Allfather’s creation.

I bow my head and shut my eyes, uttering a small prayer of thanks to the Allfather for allowing me to see this wonder.

When I open my eyes again, I look directly down from the window and see that we are following the line of the mountain range that borders the bay. The tracks are built atop a narrow, rocky rim. The bare rock wall steeply drops off into the crashing shoreline below.

I feel my chest tighten, and I back away, momentarily overcome with vertigo.

“It truly is overwhelming the first time you see it, isn’t it, dear?” the woman says, coming to sit next to me. She takes my hand and pats it comfortingly. I must look so fragile sitting here, blood draining from my face and out of breath.

I pat her hand in return before withdrawing my own. “I’m all right,” I say. “Just a little excited.”

“Well, Bayopolis is an exciting place, after all.” She taps me on the shoulder and points out the window. “Speaking of which…”

I follow with my eyes and see where she’s pointing.

There, rising over the horizon on the opposite shore of the bay is Bayopolis. Before I began my journey, I’d never seen a building as tall as the temple back in Miner’s Point. And then, just a few days ago, I saw the Royal Astrologer’s tower in Freeburg when my sister Paulette took me there, of course. I thought then that I had a better sense of the size of what humans were capable of building.

Now, however, I see not merely one building that dwarfs those places, but scores of them!

Again, I feel very tiny all of a sudden, and reflexively scrunch myself inward. I am at once more excited than I’ve ever been and my heart thunders in my chest, but at the same time I begin to shiver, and I begin to question if I am truly prepared for this journey.

The kind woman sits beside me and keeps me calm until the train reaches its next stop.

---

I step off the train with my luggage: a suitcase with my clothes in my right hand, and a bag with my finished turquoise jewelry, money, and tools in my left.

The platform is bustling with people. It’s like the marketplace back home on its busiest day, and yet I realize that this train station is probably like this every day! Young men and women, the elderly, even whole families are gathered here. Some are dressed in rustic clothes that look like what my family would wear. Others are wearing frilly, fancy clothes like what I saw in my book, Ten Places in Falnumbra You MUST See!

A woman in a billowing green dress walks by me and I gasp when I see her…

The top of her blouse is missing! I can see the cleavage of her bosom!

She gives me a confused look which quickly shifts to annoyance. I realize that I’m staring, so I mutter an apology and quickly move on.

Such immodesty… no one would ever dress like that back home!

I move on, searching to and fro for the exit, but there are so many people I almost feel like I’m going around in circles.

Then I hear a noise right behind me and something slams right into me. I’m so jarred by it that for a moment I don’t realize that I’m not holding my bag in my left hand anymore. I regain my balance and look to see a man running away. He’s holding my bag!

I’ve been robbed!

“Help!” I cry out, and the people nearby all look to me in confusion.

Still stunned, I point after the thief as I simply cry out “My bag!”

I start running after the man, but the people are still looking at me and not trying to stop him. He’s going to get away!

“Thief!” I shout, my mouth finally communicating what my mind was already screaming.

Just the same, the thief is already far ahead of me. He’ll soon reach the exit and escape into the city. All the money I saved for this journey will be gone…

But then, seemingly from nowhere, a towering man rushes in from the side and hooks his arm around the thief’s neck, scooping him up and stopping him in his tracks as he is tossed backwards.

The thief tries to scramble away, but the big man seizes him by an arm and a leg, hoists him over his head, and then slams him to the ground. The thief lies still and the man calls for security.

“Oh, thank you, sir!” I cry as I run up to him. “I don’t know what I would have done… if…”

He turns and suddenly I see that it is not a man. Despite the bulky porter’s uniform, I can see by her features and her figure that she is very clearly a woman.

“Ah, n-no, not ‘sir,’ ma’am,” I stammer. “I, that is, I meant ‘ma’am,’ ma’am!”

The woman looks down at me for a moment. She tilts her head and raises an eyebrow. But then what I’ve said sinks in, and a laugh escapes her. She covers her mouth to stifle her laughter, but she’s barely holding it in.

I blush profusely and hide behind my hair. This woman just saved some of my most precious things, and I insulted her. I’m so mortified that I just want to crawl in a deep hole and never leave. I can’t even look at her.

“It’s fine, I get that a lot,” the woman says. “Sorry, though… that ‘ma’am ma’am’ line was something else!”

I push my hair back and meet her eyes. She’s smiling genuinely, and I begin to relax.

She holds up my bag. “This is yours, right?”

“Oh! Oh, yes!” I say as I take it eagerly. “Thank you, ma’am! Thank you so much!”

The guards are gathering the unconscious thief up and she momentarily turns to watch them take him away. I barely notice it because I can’t help but stare at her.

She is, without a doubt, the biggest woman I have ever seen. I am of average height, but she looks about three decimeters higher; my face only comes up to her chest!

She has stunningly blue eyes as well, and her short blond hair is pulled tightly into a tuft of a ponytail. Her nose is tall, narrow, and straight. Her arms are so thick around that it would take three of mine bound together to equal one of hers. And while at first her uniform hid her figure, now that she is standing straight, I can see that the Allfather generously blessed her with womanly assets.

I am transfixed for a moment longer before she breaks my trance by asking, “Are you all right?”

“Oh! Well, yes, it’s just you’re… you’re so… tall!”

She blushes a little and turns away. “I was actually making sure that the purse snatcher didn’t hurt you.”

I wince again. “No,” I mutter. “I’m all right.”

“You’re new to Bayopolis, aren’t you?” she asked.

I nod.

“Well, watch out for these guys. Hold your valuables close and don’t travel alone at night. Bayopolis isn’t as bad as people say, but crime is still a problem.”

I swallow. “I never thought I would be robbed as soon as I came here,” I say. “M-maybe… maybe I’m not ready to experience this city. I should get back on the train.”

She frowns and puts her hands on her hips. “Don’t give up on our town just yet!” she says. “You just need someone to help you out. Tell you what: my shift here ends in just a few minutes anyway. If you wait on the steps outside the train station, I’ll meet you there and help you get where you need. Would that help?”

I stare at her, my lips parting slightly. “You would do that? Even though I’m a stranger?”

She shrugs. “You know what they say, ‘A stranger’s just a friend you haven’t met!’”

I shake my head. “No.”

She blinks. “No? You mean you don’t want my help?”

“Oh, no, not that,” I say quickly. “I just mean that no, I didn’t know that they say that.” I smile. “I would love to have your help.”

“Great!” she says. Then she holds out one of her massive hands. “My name’s Levana, by the way. Levana Yerbolsky.”

I take her hand and shake it. Her palms are rough, and her grip is firm but not too hard. “I’m Mabel Stone,” I say. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

---

I’m outside watching people go by on the street. There are people everywhere passing by on the sidewalks, coming up and down the stairs of the train station, and the street is clogged with horse-drawn carriages or riders.

I hear a strange puttering sound and I see what looks like a water boiler on wheels trundeling by. It’s only there for a second before it’s already gone by and I’m left staring after it, the sound of it fading into the distance.

“Steamers, they call them.”

I whirl around and see Levana standing there.

“Steam-powered carriages. People say that someday they’ll replace all the horses. I don’t know about that, but it’d be nice to not deal with road apples anymore.”

I giggle a little at that and take in the sight of her. Levana is no longer wearing her navy blue uniform with its brass buttons. Instead, she’s wearing a simple cotton shirt, a brown pair of trousers, and simple leather shoes.

The trousers throw me for a moment. Her uniform had trousers too, of course, but it seems that she prefers to wear them even when she’s not working. Back home, no women wear trousers unless they’re working in the fields, and certainly never in public. Mother says they aren’t ladylike.

And then I remember the mistake I made.

“I wanted to apologize again!” I exclaim. “For thinking you were a man.”

She waves a hand. “Seriously, don’t worry about it,” she says as she comes down the stairs. She beckons for me to follow her. “Like I said, it happens a lot. Because, well, like you said… I’m tall.”

She looks a little despondent for a minute, so I say, “Yes, but I think it suits you.”

She pauses and turns to look at me with a raised eyebrow.

“Well, I…” I look down, feeling a bit bashful. “I always wished I were taller.”

Her eyes widen. “Really?”

I nod. “I confess, I’m a bit envious. And the way you defeated that awful man who stole my bag… if I were big and strong like you, I wouldn’t worry about anything or anyone!”

Levana blushes and looks away. “You’re too kind, Mabel,” she says as we continue down to the sidewalk. “Well, there’s one thing we should worry about: where are you staying?”

I beam with pride. “The Palacia-Astor Hotel!” I tell her.

Her eyes bulge. “I… wow! I didn’t expect that.”

I tilt my head at that. “What do you mean?”

“Well, it’s just… I mean, the way you look…”

I frown. “What’s wrong with the way I look?”

“I mean, the way you’re dressed.”

My frown deepens. I set down my luggage and cross my arms. “I am dressed perfectly respectable, thank you very much!”

I am wearing my best blue dress with a lace collar and black tortoise-shell buttons up the front. I also have my best brown work boots on, but they are very clean.

“I just mean that you don’t look rich,” Levana says.

I blink. “I… I’m not.”

Her nose wrinkles as she looks me over. “How much money do you have?”

I pick up my bag and hold it closer.

“I’m not going to rob you,” she says with a roll of her eyes. “I’m trying to help you save your money. Bayopolis is expensive.”

I swallow. Just because she says I can trust her doesn’t mean that I really can… but I really don’t have anyone to guide me. All I have is my book and secondhand knowledge from others. Levana might be the only help I have.

“I have about 400 bits.”

She rubs her chin. “Are you staying in Bayopolis for long?”

“Um… at least a few days, I thought. Maybe a week.”

She waves her hand. “There’s no way that’ll cover it. Palacia-Astor’s cheapest rooms are probably close to 200 bits per night.”

I nearly choke. “T-two hundred?!”

“You could stay one night, then go back home—”

“B-but… but I’m planning to travel all across Falnumbra!”

“On just 400 bits?!” she exclaims. “You could do it, but you’d really have to slum it. Especially in a place like Bayopolis. I’m sorry Mabel, but Palacia-Astor would be impossible on your budget. Most hotels would be.”

I lower my head. “Oh,” I whisper. I feel a lump in my throat. I feel so stupid for not realizing that all this money I’ve saved is actually a mere pittance. Perhaps the Allfather is punishing me for my hubris in being unsatisfied with the simple life he laid out for me.

“Hey hey,” Levana says, putting her hand on my shoulder. “Don’t look so sad. Tell you what… you want to see the sights of Bayopolis?”

I raise my head and nod. “Mm-hmm.”

“Then I know something awesome you can see for free,” she says with a wink.

---

All around me are trees. The path weaves in and out over tiny bridges across streams. The branches of the tree before me are totally covered with pink petals that gently drop like snowflakes bit by bit. Elated, I spin around, unsure of what to look at first.

“It’s like a forest!” I cry. “A forest inside a city! Amazing!”

“Easy, easy,” Levana says with a laugh as she takes my arm. “You’re making a scene, Mabel.”

I turn and see others walking on the path. They’re staring at me.

I feel my cheeks burn and quiet down.

“Here, there’s a park bench,” Levana says. “Just sit down and relax for a minute.”

I nod and follow her to the bench. I sit down and take in the sight, breathing in the air. I can almost believe that I am in the woods and not surrounded by Falnumbra’s largest city.

“I know Bayopolis Park is neat,” Levana says. She’s still chuckling to herself. “But still, even if it is the biggest city park in the country, it’s still just a park.”

“Well, I’ve never been to a park before!” I exclaim, still looking around. I can’t stop smiling about it.

She raises an eyebrow.

Then I pause as a thought occurs to me. “Levana, why did you mention my clothes earlier?”

She bites her lip. “Do you promise not to be angry?”

“I… promise to try not to be angry.”

Levana shrugs. “You just look like a farm girl. Your clothes are simple, your boots are practical and sturdy, but not fashionable. You aren’t wearing makeup. Your hair is nice, but it’s unstyled and you let it hang in your face.

“It’s also the way you act. I can see that you’re shy, but you’re also wearing your heart on your sleeve, but a Bayopolis woman knows to be guarded. You’re polite, but plainspoken. Everything about you tells me that you grew up in a small town with a traditional culture and you’ve probably never been away from that environment until now. And there’s no such thing as a rich farm girl.”

I lower my head. “You’re right,” I say. “Everything you said is true. I really am a farm girl. It must be obvious. I’m so plain looking.”

“Yes, you are.”

I turn away from her. “I’m sorry.”

She puts her hand on my shoulder, so I turn to face her again. “I was just agreeing with you,” she says. “You are plain looking, but I like that. I’m not exactly a fashionista either. So don’t apologize.”

That makes me feel a little better, so I smile. “W-well, in that case… I’m not sorry!”

Levana laughs. “Much better! The only thing that I can’t figure out now is why you wanted to go to the Palacia-Astor Hotel in the first place.”

I open my bag and take out Ten Places in Falnumbra You MUST See and open to the chapter on Bayopolis.

“Ah, I see,” Levana says as she takes the book from me and examines it. “These pictures really do make Bayopolis look fantastic. I never knew what the Palacia-Astor looked like inside until now. Too bad the author didn’t say how much it cost.”

I sigh. “This is the book that made me realize how much I wanted to travel. I saw in the marketplace in my village. It made me think about how sad it was to be eighteen years old and in all that time to have never been further than a few dozen kilometers from home. It made me want to go and see the world, just like my sisters.”

“You have sisters?” Levana asks.

I nod. “Three. My twin sister Paulette is a baker’s apprentice. She lives in Freeburg. She introduced me to the Royal Astrologer just a few days ago. Freeburg was the first place I went. Besides Paulette, there’s my eldest sister Mildred, who studies geology, and Gertrude, who works with Mother and Father back on our farm.”

I dig through my things and find a picture of our family. I pass it to Levana, who smiles as she takes it.

“You have a lovely family,” she says.

“Yes,” I reply and raise my chin. “I certainly do.”

“I don’t have any brothers or sisters,” she says. “My father died when I was very little. Now it’s just Mama and me.”

I frown. “I am sorry to hear about your father.”

She shrugs. “I know it sounds a little bad, but I was so young that I don’t remember him, so I can’t really be sad.”

I take her hand, clasping it with both of mine. “I know that he is with the Allfather now, and he surely must be watching over you from Heaven.”

She smiles. “I’m glad someone is,” she says. “By the way, that name you just said… ‘Allfather?’ What does that mean?”

I swallow. Paulette warned me that most people in Falnumbra don’t know of the Allfather, but I am still not used to it.

“You know of the Sacred Twelve Deities?” I ask.

She nods.

“Well, I… er, we, the Bearers of the Revelation, believe that the Allfather is the deity who gave birth to them all. He rules over and arbitrates for them. He is the one who maintains our world among their squabbling.”

I wonder if she will be intrigued or doubtful, but instead Levana just nods and says “I see.”

I decide not to elaborate. There will be other time to tell her about the Prophet and educate her about the Book of Testament later, if she cares to listen.

“Well, I can help you to see some of those sights around the city,” Levana tells me. “Actually, I wouldn’t mind going with you, if you don’t mind the company. My work schedule is light for the next few days. I’m just working nights.”

I freeze. ‘Working nights?’ As a woman? That can only mean one thing!

She frowns. “I’m not a hooker, Mabel,” she grumbles, apparently reading my expression.

I breathe a sigh of relief. I didn’t know what I would do if I learned that my new friend was a harlot!

“Anyway, the only question is where you should stay,” she says. “You need to save money for your trip, but some of the cheapest places around Bayopolis aren’t very nice. Or safe. Especially not for a farm girl by herself.”

“I… I can take care of myself!” I tell her.

She crosses her arms and looks down at me.

I sigh with resignation. “You’re right,” I say. “What do you propose?”

Levana looks away momentarily. All of a sudden she seems uncomfortable. “Since you have nowhere else to go… and since I might be showing you around Bayopolis… you could - if you wanted to, I mean - stay with me?”

“With you?”

“My apartment, I mean,” she asks, speaking quickly. “Mama is there too. It’s not much, it’s not fancy at all, but it’s right in the middle of city, and it’s safe and, best of all, it would be free.”

I gasp. I cannot believe that Levana would be so generous as to let me into her home after only knowing me a short time!

“Oh, Levana, surely I can pay you a small amount or—”

“No, no, I won’t consider it,” she says, waving it off. She stands up and hoists my heavy suitcase up onto her shoulder with ease. “Knowing I helped you out on your journey will be all the reward I need.”

My heart swells. When I first left, Mother and Father warned me to beware of strangers and to be guarded with my trust for not all people would share our values of kindness and hospitality. And yet here Levana is, standing before me and welcoming me into her home!

I stand and bow to her. “I… I humbly accept!”

I’m still shaking, so giddy and overwhelmed with gratitude that I leap forward, throwing my arms around her and shout “Oh, Levana, thank you! Thank you so much!”

She blushes. “Ah! Mabel, come on, I’ll drop your suitcase!”

“Oh! Oh, yes, of course!” I say as I release her. “Forgive me, I’m just… I’m just so happy that I met you.”

“Me too,” she says warmly. “Now get your bag and follow me. Home is just a few blocks away.”

---

Levana’s apartment building is a narrow brick edifice among many others just like it. It’s still eight storeys tall, which I realize means it’s almost as tall as the Royal Astrologer’s Tower. She leads me in and up the stairs. I can hear people in the other floors as we go up. A man and a woman are arguing. Some children are laughing as they play in the hall. And I almost laugh too when I hear a man badly singing along with an opera record.

“Mr. Pacciani sure loves that record,” Levana sighs, but then she looks back and gives me a wink. Apparently his bad singing is a common occurrence, and I snicker even more when I think about it.

“Lucky number seven,” Levana says as she turns into the hall on the seventh floor. She sniffs the air as she comes to the door of her apartment. “Are you hungry, Mabel?”

My tummy rumbles, and I blush. “Mm-hmm,” I reply.

“Good, because it smells like dinner is almost finished.”

She leads me inside and calls out, “Mama, I’m home!”

“You are late, Levana,” a woman’s voice replies. “I was starting to worry. Ah, you bring back something nice to eat with dinner?”

I enter, peeking around Levana. Her apartment is small. The kitchen and dining room are the same room. The living room is adjacent and it contains some worn furniture and a small table on a rug. A dog-eared book is lying on the armrest of one of the chairs. There’s a window in the living room as well, but the curtains are hanging over it, blocking out the view.

There’s a woman in the kitchen whom I assume is Levana’s mother. She’s much shorter, stocky, and she’s wearing a blue dress with an apron. She’s stirring something in a large pot on the stove.

“Maybe you bring us some fruit or cake?” Levana’s mother goes on as she turns in our direction. “Or maybe you get nice, juicy…”

She trails off when she sees me.

“...girl.”

Levana clears her throat and leads me by the hand into the kitchen. “Mama, this is Mabel Stone. She’s never been to Bayopolis before and doesn’t have much money, so I invited her to stay here.”

Levana’s mother raises an eyebrow. Despite her size and build, I can see the resemblance in an instant. She has blond hair and blue eyes like her daughter, and her nose is similarly tall, narrow, and straight.

“It’s nice to meet you, ma’am,” I say, stepping forward.

“Hmph,” she grunts. “And I suppose she is wanting dinner too, eh?”

“If… if that’s not too much trouble,” Levana replies.

Levana’s mother pushes her lips in and out as she gives me a long look.

“I don’t mean to be any trouble,” I say. “If there’s something I can do repay you—”

“Mabel, no, I said—”

“Ah ah, you shush,” Levana’s mother says, cutting her off. To me she says, “Go on.”

“I just mean that I don’t want to put you out. I don’t want to stay if it would be an imposition, ma’am!”

She looks to Levana, then back to me. She shrugs. “Eh, okay. You can stay.”

Levana and I both breathe a sigh of relief.

“But you must pay the price,” she says as she goes back to the pot on the stove. “Both of you!”

We both stiffen at that.

“You, little Mabel, will help me with dishes after dinner is done,” she says.

I smile. “Of course! I’ll be glad to!”

She offers me her hand. “Good. I am Nina Yerbolsky. Is nice to meet you.”

I shake her hand and bow graciously. “It’s nice to meet you too, ma’am.”

She nods. “And you, Levana,” she says, turning to her daughter, “your price is that you will sit there while I tell your new friend embarrassing stories about you as child during dinner.”

“Oh, Mama…!” Levana moans plaintively.

“Mama’s house, Mama’s rules,” she chuckles. “Okay, dinner is ready. I hope you like borscht.”

I blink. “What’s borscht?”

She grins. “I guess we find out together.”

We sit down at the small table and Mrs. Yerbolsky ladles out bowls for each of us. I stare down at the dark red soup placed before me. It has chunks of vegetables floating in it, but I’m not certain what they are.

I take a spoonful and put it in my mouth.

My eyes go wide.

Mrs. Yerbolsky looks smug.

Then, in my hunger, I start gulping down spoonful after spoonful, eagerly devouring the soup. It’s slightly sour, but the flavors are complex and amazing!

“You… you like it?” Mrs. Yerbolsky asks.

I pause just long enough to respond. “Mm-hmm!” I murmur, covering my mouth. “It’s delicious!”

Mrs. Yerbolsky smiles. She turns to Levana and says, “I like this one, Levana. I have not seen anyone not from old country eat my borscht like this in ages!”

“I can’t believe that!” I say, taking another bite. “This is wonderful!”

“Well, you are very sweet,” she says. “But don’t eat so fast or you get tummy ache. For now, though… would you like to hear about Levana’s first school play?”

“Mm-hmm,” I reply.

“No!” Levana protests.

“This is payback for bringing guest unannounced, dushka,” she says, pointing a finger at her. Turning to me, she says, “So, there was big play all about some princess and two tough hotshot guys fighting over her. One day little ten-year-old Levana comes home yelling and shouting with joy because teacher picks her to play lead role. Only she was not princess… because she was taller than all boys in class, she was one of tough hotshot guys!”

“Mamaaa,” Levana groans, her face turning almost as red as the borscht.

“What? You looked so cute holding the tiny princess in your arms!”

I burst out laughing as Levana buries her face in her hands.

---

After dinner, I dutifully help Mrs. Yerbolsky clean the dishes as promised. Then we sit in the living room talking. Mrs. Yerbolsky is apparently very keen on embarrassing her daughter because she brings out a photo album showing me picture after picture of Levana as a child.

Levana finally persuades her to put the pictures away and we play a card game. It’s called Khuynya, and the goal is to play your cards face down in a particular order. However, Levana tells me, you are allowed to lie. If someone thinks you are lying and challenges you, they shout “Khuynya!” and you have to show them the card. If you lied, you take all the cards. If not, they do.

I am absolutely horrible at the game. Mrs. Yerbolsky beats both of us handily, though Levana did much better than I.

It’s a fun evening. It reminds me of home, and for a moment I feel a twinge of homesickness. I put it out of mind, though, and enjoy my time with my new friends.

However, at around 7:30 Levana sighs and stands up.

“Mabel, I’m sorry, but I have to go to my night job now,” she says.

“Oh? That’s too bad… I was having so much fun!”

She smiles. “I’m glad, but I really can’t cancel. My manager would be furious if I did.”

“Well, m-maybe I could come and help you,” I say.

Levana looks away. Her mother starts to chuckle.

“It’s not really something you can help with,” she says, blushing a little.

I sigh. “I understand.”

“Do not worry, Mabel,” Mrs. Yerbolsky says. She pats me on the shoulder. “Tell you what… we will listen to some nice music and talk. If you want, you can help me with knitting, or else you can do as you please. Doesn’t that sound nice?”

I smile and give her a nod. “Mm-hmm.”

---

Instead of helping with the knitting, I decide to take out some of the raw turquoise I have in my bag and continue sanding and polishing it. Since money is apparently an issue in Bayopolis, I decide that maybe I should try to sell some of my homemade jewelry. After all, Mr. Masterson, the man who buys my jewelry back in Miner’s Point, always said he would try to find a seller in Bayopolis. Even though he says it’s difficult to find people who are interested, he always gives me at least 25 bits. Once he gave me 40!

“Those are pretty stones,” Mrs. Yerbolsky says as she continues to knit.

“I find them in the caves running under my family’s land,” I tell her.

“You selling them?”

“I might. Levana told me that it might be difficult to continue traveling without money.”

Mrs. Yerbolsky nods. “There are many risks that come along with travel. I knew that when I left Pochnyr, the old country.”

She sighs and looks at a yellowing, grainy picture on the table by the sofa. I look too and see a small family: a mother, a father, and a little girl. They’re all standing by a dock with several suitcases.

“Is that you, holding Levana?” I ask gently.

She nods. “Pochnyr was in middle of famine. Worst seen in a century. My husband, Piotr, he decides we all come to Falnumbra. We get on tiny boat. Is dark, wet, and cramped. Smells horrible. Some get sick. Some don’t make it. But our little family survives. When we get off boat, we sign papers, we see doctor, and we walk out into city. Newspaper man takes picture. We see it and take clipping. Is one you see there.”

I nod, smiling.

“But we were poor and desperate. Lived in place half as big as this with two other families. One day my dear Piotr gets sick… and then is only me and Levana left.”

I put down my work and sit down next to her. I hold her hands just as I held Levana’s.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper.

She smiles. “You kind girl. No big surprise; Levana is good at judging people.

“Well, to make long story shorter, I take up working, sometimes 14 hours a day, but I finally get us out of that place. I send Levana to school, I come home tired each night, but still I find time to make her dinner and read her stories. Now that she is grown woman and I am old, foot is on other shoe. She works hard to help me. Still, is easier than I had it. And what more can mother wish for daughter?”

I take a deep breath, swallowing hard.

“Mabel? Is something wrong?”

I shake my head. “I was just thinking of my own mother,” I reply.

“Heh,” she chuckles. “Like I say, you kind girl. But no more sad talk. You go back to work while I put on more music. You like music so far?”

“Mm-hmm,” I reply.

“Then I play more. Too much of good thing is not enough, if you ask me! Ha!”

I go back to polishing the stone, but I find that I still have lingering questions.

“Mrs. Yerbolsky?” I ask.

She pauses from placing a new record on the phonograph and looks over at me.

“What… what exactly does Levana do at her night job?”

She narrows her eyes. “She did not tell you her business,” she says. “That means is none of your business.”

I nod hurriedly. “Of course. I’m sorry.”

Mrs. Yerbolsky puts the record on and sits back down. “If you are worried about whether job is legal, then don’t worry. It is. Is good, honest work.”

I breathe out, feeling my tension drain away. “Oh, good,” I say. “I can feel better knowing she’s not hurting anyone.”

“Heh,” she chuckles. “I don’t know about that,” she mutters.

“W-what do you mean?”

“I mean what I say earlier, nosey girl,” she says with a glare. “Is not your business! Besides, I had to do my own share of nasty business back in the day to support her. Heavens forbid I let her do the same.”

I gulp. “What… what kind of business was it?”

There’s a quick motion and something flies right over my head, feeling like it parts the hair down my scalp. I yelp and whirl around.

Her knitting needle is embedded into the door.

She goes to retrieve it and twirls it between her fingers. “The kind of business you don’t ask questions about,” she replies in a low voice. “Feel like changing subjects now?”

I swallow. “Mm-hmm,” I manage to squeak.

“Khorosho!” she says, a warm smile on her face as she sits back down. “So, tell me about yourself. What is your life like back home?”

We talk for a while longer. It gets late until I find myself yawning, barely able to focus on my work. Still, I’ve made a lot of progress. The turquoise is starting to shine like glass.

“Is probably time for bed,” Mrs. Yerbolsky says. She stands and stretches. “For us both. Now, Levana told me before she left that she wants you to sleep in her bed.”

“Oh, no, I couldn’t—”

“I agree,” she says. “Levana is good host, but she will be tired when she comes home. And she will not sleep well if not in her own bed. Everywhere else is too small for her.”

I resist the urge to nod. I try to be polite and say, “Oh, really?”

She looks at me like I’m an imbecile. “You joking? She’s size of godsdamned house!”

I wince and start wringing my hands. “S-sorry, I was only trying to be polite. I didn’t mean to say something foolish.”

Her expression softens. “Oh, is all right. At least you are polite about it.”

She leads me into Levana’s bedroom. The massive bed in the center of the room is so long that I would look like a toddler in a normal sized bed were I to sleep in it. She gets out some bedding and puts it on the floor next to the bed.

“When Levana was little girl, there were no problems,” Mrs. Yerbolsky says. “Nothing out of unusual. But she was not ‘little’ girl for long. That story about school play was no joke. But that was start of troubles. She just got bigger and bigger. I struggle to find clothes just to fit her. Month later, they too small again. She biggest child in class.”

“It sounds nice,” I mutter. “I told Levana that I was a bit envious of her. She actually seemed surprised.”

“Of course,” Mrs. Yerbolsky says. “It seems like at least once a week she comes home crying her eyes out because other kids tease and bully her. They ask her where her papa is at, then ask if he is an ogre living up in hills. They draw pictures of her with horns and clubs and tell smaller children that she will eat them. They start asking if she is so tall because she is really boy, and girls even grab her by pants, asking where her [i]xuj[/] is!”

“Her… what?”

She raises an eyebrow. “Take guess.”

I realize what she means and cover my mouth. “That’s… that’s so vulgar!”

“Tch. Kids,” she grunts as she shakes her head. “At least that stops when she starts becoming woman. But I wish the Twelve hadn’t blessed her so much! After that, the boys start in with the jokes! You are sensitive girl, so I won’t repeat the nasty things they say to her.”

I bow my head. “I didn’t think about that,” I say.

“It broke my heart to see her like that. She is big and strong, but she never fought back. She just cry and cry. I tell her to fight back just once, but she does not want to.

“Until one day ringleader of bully girls push her too far. Levana threw her across classroom with one arm. Nobody bully her anymore… but she still alone because everyone afraid of her. Many still are. But she still keeps her kind heart. Not that I have to tell you that.”

I smile. “I couldn’t have asked for a better friend here in Bayopolis.”

Mrs. Yerbolsky smiles back. She finishes laying out the bedding and turns to leave, but then she stops and lingers by the door.

“Is everything all right, ma’am?” I ask.

She drums her fingers on the doorframe. Then she turns back and leans in close to me.

“Maybe I shouldn’t say this,” she says. “But I worry that you may be caught off guard if Levana… well, maybe she doesn’t.”

I furrow my brow. “Doesn’t… what?”

She takes a deep breath. “Listen carefully, Mabel. In the old country, we had a term for people like her. We call them ‘two-spirits.’ Levana looks like woman, but she doesn’t always act like one. She is no tiny, dainty thing as you know.

“She looks like woman. She is woman. But she has spirit of man inside. I love her with all my heart, so I don’t care that she is woman and man at once. You, on the other hand… may not be ready for that.”

I stare back at her. I don’t understand what she’s saying. I feel like I’m learning some sort of forbidden secret, but I don’t know what to do with it.

“That is all I can say,” she says. “If I say more and I am wrong, Levana will be upset. And if I am wrong, then just forget all of this. Is just older woman talking more khuynya, eh?”

She chuckles as she leaves. I try to figure out what she meant, but a tremendous yawn escapes me, and I realize that I can barely stand. I get changed into my nightclothes and settle into the bedding on the floor.

I’m asleep before I know it.

---

I’m awakened by a creaking sound. I open my eyes and turn my head. It’s dark, so I squint, trying to see as best I can. I hear a grunt and someone drawing breath sharply through their teeth.

Levana is standing at the door to the bedroom.

“Levana?” I whisper.

She looks down, noticing me. “Mabel?” she asks. I notice that she’s rubbing her arm tenderly. “Why are you down there? I told Mama… oh. Of course.”

“I’m really okay, Levana,” I say. “It’s fine.”

“No, it’s not,” she says, and walks over to me.

Before I can even protest, she scoops her arms under me and lifts me up. I give a cry of surprise as she drops me onto the mountainous bed in the center of the room.

“Your mother said—”

“Mama’s house, Mama’s rules,” she says, pulling up the covers to tuck me in. “But it’s still my bed. And I wouldn’t dare sleep in a bed while my guest sleeps on the hard floor.”

“It’s fine, please, Levana!” I protest, pushing the covers off. “You’ve been working late, you must be tired!”

Levana folds her arms. “If you want to sleep on the floor, go right ahead. But I’ll still sleep on the floor even if you do. So, unless you want this bed to go to waste.”

I frown. She’s stubborn. I try to think of a good argument… but this bed really is comfortable.

“All right,” I say as I lie back down. “But just for tonight. Tomorrow, we’ll talk about this again.”

Levana shrugs. “Fine.”

I catch her smiling in the dim moonlight seeping through the window. Whether it’s out of smugness or amusement at something, I can’t tell. Either way, I snuggle in while Levana takes my place in the bedding on the floor.

“Good night, Mabel,” she whispers.

I pull the covers up to my chin. “Good night, Levana.”

---

It’s nearly nine o’clock the next morning when Levana finally gets up. I am already awake and have eaten breakfast, and now I’m back to polishing the turquoise stone from last night. Mrs. Yerbolsky told me that I could have slept in as well, but I’m too used to getting up at dawn from back at the farm. Even though I know Gertrude is far away now, I still worry that she will come and yank me out of bed if I don’t get up quickly.

When Levana walks out, she’s unsteady on her feet and rubbing her eyes.

“Good morning, Levana!” I tell her.

She only murmurs back in response.

“Mabel told me you refused your bed,” Mrs. Yerbolsky says. “So if you have aches and pains today, do not cry to your Mama.”

“Noted,” Levana mutters. “May I please have some coffee, though?”

“Fine. You make own breakfast, though.”

She nods and finds the butter, frying pan, and eggs. While she’s doing so, she looks over at me.

“Mabel, what is that?”

I look down at my work. “Turquoise,” I reply.

“What are you doing with it?”

“Polishing it.”

“No, I mean, how did you get it?”

“From the caves on my family’s land,” I reply with a proud smile. “Isn’t it beautiful?”

“Yes, but what will you do with it?”

I shrug. “I don’t know yet. A brooch or a necklace, probably. It’s a little too big for a bracelet.”

Her eyes widen. “You make jewelry?”

“Mm-hmm,” I reply. “I thought I might sell some, since you said I would probably need more money.”

Levana swallows. “Can I see what you’ve got to sell?”

I nod, though I feel a bit uneasy. Levana is acting very strangely. I get my bag and show her what I have to sell.

She gets very quiet. “Mabel, do you sell these often?”

“Now and then,” I say. “Do you like them?”

“Yes, I do, but that’s not the point.” She looks me square in the eye. “I think I’ve seen this type of jewelry before.”

---

The bell over the door rings as we step into the shop. I gasp with disbelief when I see all the amazing jewels and necklaces in glass display cases. Men and women in fine clothes are already browsing. A young couple are looking at rings.

A woman in a pure white blouse and a beautiful gold necklace comes up to us. She seems hesitant and looks from me to Levana and back again but then says “Welcome to Maldaner’s Jewelry, ladies. May I help you?”

I shrink from her. I feel underdressed and plain among all this splendor and fashionable people.

But Levana stands firm. “Do you have any turquoise jewelry?” she asks.

The saleswoman nods. “Right this way,” she says, and leads us to a case in a corner of the room.

I gasp when I see what’s inside. “Th-those are mine!” I exclaim.

A few of the other customers look in our direction, so I cover my mouth and stick close to Levana.

“Madam,” the saleswoman says darkly, narrowing her eyes at me. “We do not peddle hot property around here. This is part of our ‘Native Craftsman’ collection, sourced from a reputable dealer in goods from across Falnumbra.”

Levana smiles. “We’re not accusing you of anything. My friend’s just a little confused. That’s all.”

The saleswoman relaxes. “Well, if you say so. Now then, are you interested in these pieces?”

“Very! But, actually, is Mr. Maldaner here?” she asks. “Please tell him it’s important.”

She raises an eyebrow. “I’ll see. But he is very busy—”

Levana holds out the polished turquoise I was working on earlier. “Show him this.”

She freezes. “Yes ma’am,” she whispers as she takes it. “He’ll see you immediately.”

A few moments later, a man with glasses, neat gray hair, and a very nice three piece suit walks over to us. He bows slightly to us both.

“Good day, ladies,” he says. He holds out the turquoise, giving it back to us. “I’m Eugene Maldaner.”

“Levana Yerbolsky,” Levana says.

“M-Mabel Stone,” I reply.

He takes each of our hands and kisses them in turn. I can’t help but feel a little enchanted at the treatment, so I blush. Levana elbows me with a smirk.

“This is a very nice unset stone,” Mr. Maldaner says. “I take it that you’re here on business?”

Levana nods. “Yes, that’s right.”

Feeling I ought to say something, I nod as well. “Mm-hmm.”

He smiles and says “Follow me into my office, please.”

---

Mr. Maldaner looks down at the bracelets, necklaces, brooches, and rings I’ve brought with me, as well as the uncut, unpolished stones I’ve set on his desk. He takes out a magnifying eyepiece and examines it closely.

“So you’re telling me that Mr. Masterson, one of my suppliers, has been getting the turquoise jewelry pieces from you for over a year?” he asks.

I nod. “Mm-hmm.”

He whistles. “I must say, these are excellent pieces. Maybe not perfect, but they have an artisan quality that our customers appreciate. It’s very en vogue these days.”

I smile. My cheeks are burning, but it feels nice to have my work appreciated by such an expert.

Levana clears her throat. “Mabel, tell Mr. Maldaner how much you’ve been paid for a bracelet like this,” she says, pointing to one of them.

“Oh, Mr. Masterson paid me 40 bits for one just like it!” I exclaim.

Mr. Maldander winces.

“How much did he ask you for it, sir?” Levana asks him.

“Three hundred and fifty.”

I nearly choke. “Th-three…”

“And what do you charge for it?” Levana asks.

“Six hundred,” Maldaner says. “Five hundred if we’re having a special sale.”

I feel faint. I put my hand over my mouth. My eyes are welling up.

“Young lady, are you all right?” Mr. Maldaner asks.

I’m not. I feel so stupid! All this time, Mr. Masterson told me that he was having trouble selling my work and that few people would appreciate it, but he was selling it to Mr. Maldaner and making a fortune from all my hard work!

I shut my eyes and try not to cry. I’m utterly humiliated, and again I feel like the stupid, bumpkin farm girl I should have known I was.

But then Levana puts her arm around my shoulder and whispers “Easy now,” and I somehow feel myself calming down.

Mr. Maldaner isn’t looking at me with scorn. There’s softness and kindness in his face.

“Miss Stone, I want to apologize for the way you’ve been treated. I had Mr. Masterson’s assurance that these were sourced ethically and the original craftsmen were compensated fairly. It seems he was less than honest with me. Not least of all since there were no craftsmen but just a single craftswoman. Still, since you’re here, perhaps we can make an arrangement.”

“An… arrangement?” I ask.

“Why not cut out the middleman and make a deal that benefits us both? I’ll buy your jewelry directly from you now and from now on for slightly less than what I paid Masterson. You get a fair price for your work, and I’ll save money as well. It’s win-win.”

I’m in shock and about to agree on the spot, but Levana speaks up first: “Why less than Masterson? Why not the same?”

“Masterson charges a finder’s fee. If I’m buying wholesale from Miss Stone, I expect a better price. Doesn’t that seem fair?”

Again I’m about to accept when Levana interjects, saying “One more thing… why ‘Native Collection?’ You make it sound like the jewelry is made by tribesmen or something.”

“Marketing,” he says with a shrug.

“Isn’t that dishonest?”

“I don’t know about that. Miss Stone, are you a native of Falnumbra?”

I nod. “Mm-hmm.”

“Well, sounds like ‘Native Collection’ is accurate enough to me!”

Levana chuckles.

I look up to her, seeing if she has any more objections.

“It sounds like a good deal to me, Mabel,” she says.

“Then… all right,” I say, holding out my hand. “It’s a deal.”

“Splendid!” he says. “I’ll write up an offer for each piece based on past history and, just to compensate you for your treatment, I’ll offer an extra five hundred as a bonus.”

I feel dizzy. I barely hear him as he carries on, calculating prices and writing them down. I’ve just about recovered when he holds up the grand total to me.

“Will this be satisfactory?” he asks.

Levana has to catch me this time.

---

I’m still in shock once we get outside. Levana can’t keep the grin from her face.

“Congratulations, Mabel!” she exclaims as she slaps me on the back.

The force of her doing that snaps me back to reality. And yet again the number seems so unreal: over ten thousand bits!

I turn to Levana and can’t help but shout for joy.

“Oh, Levana!” I yell. “Thank you! This is a dream come true! Now I can travel all across Falnumbra and do everything I’ve ever wanted! And I’ll still have money leftover to help my family!”

I hug her tightly. I can’t stop laughing as my eyes feel with tears.

“Ahh, easy now,” Levana says, blushing as she pats me on the back. “You earned that money. All I did was help you get what you deserved. But, if it makes you feel better… you’re welcome.”

I let her go, but I’m still so giddy that I don’t know what to do with myself.

“So, what are you going to do first?” she asks.

I pause. I hadn’t even thought of that. But then I smile. “I know exactly what to do.”

---

I walk across the elegant marble tiles of the floor of the spacious room. Multi-tiered fountains are on either side of me. The polished wood of the front desk seems to gleam as I approach it, Levana right behind me. The man at the desk is wearing immaculately white gloves and he greets me with a perfect smile.

“Welcome to the Palacia-Astor Hotel, ladies,” he says. “What can I do for you?”

I grin from ear to ear.

---

The room smells of vanilla. When I enter, my boots sink into the thick carpet, so I kick them off and feel it between my toes. There’s a bed as mountainous as Levana’s piled with pillows like clouds beneath a canopy. There’s a personal jukebox that will play any song I choose. I investigate the bathroom and see that the bathtub is so big that it could fit me and all my sisters side by side if we’d wanted to (in contrast to the wooden washtub I used back on the farm).

Last of all, there’s the window of my room. I go to it and throw open the curtains. Before me, the entire skyline of Bayopolis spreads out almost to the horizon, but I can see White Coney Bay in the distance.

“Oh, Levana, it’s so beautiful,” I say. I turn and see her lying out on the bed.

“I could certainly get used to this,” she moans.

I grin and playfully leap onto the bed, bouncing her up before she lands back onto it, bouncing me in turn. Soon we’re both jumping on it like a pair of children, giggling like idiots before we both collapse onto it.

She grabs my hand and looks over at me breathlessly. “So… what should we do next?”

I grin. I run to my bag and pull out Ten Places in Falnumbra You MUST See!

“Everything!” I shout.

---

We spend the whole day doing as many things in the book as we can.

We go to a nice restaurant to try their famous oysters. (We both agree that they’re too slimy, so we get fried fish instead.)

We go to the art museum and see the greatest works from artists all across Falnumbra throughout history. I buy postcards for each member of my family.

We ride in an open carriage through Bayopolis Park and down to White Coney Bay. We agree to get swimsuits and come back later (even though later I realize that the weather is probably too cold this time of year to go swimming).

We stop by White Coney Boardwalk and play the numerous carnival games. A man there draws caricatures of us both and we tease each other about how funny they look.

We go to a fancy store and try on beautiful dresses. Levana tries to refuse when I want to buy her the one that she likes, but in the end she relents because I want us to have something nice to wear before we go to dinner.

We go to a beautiful restaurant where we order a three course meal. A small band plays music as we dine.

I feel like the queen herself, and it’s all the better because Levana is with me, and I can finally repay her kindness from the day before.

---

We get back to the hotel, and I play a song on the jukebox. Levana wants to change out of her dress, but I just want to dance.

For some reason, though, Levana seems preoccupied. She sits quietly next to the bed while I twirl around. When I notice her, I go to her and ask what’s wrong.

“Oh, nothing, really,” she says. “I just have to work again tonight.”

I frown. “Oh. That’s too bad. But we can spend more time together tomorrow!”

She nods. “I’d… really like that,” she says quietly.

I take her hand. “Levana, are you all right? Something really seems to be bothering you.”

Her eyes shift to the left and right and she starts to sweat. “Mabel, I… do you want to know what I do at my night job?”

I pause, startled by her question. But then I nod. “Mm-hmm,” I say.

She takes a deep breath and takes something out of her pocket. It’s a small piece of paper which she then gives to me.

I read it carefully. It’s a ticket of some kind. It’s for something called “Woman’s Rumble.”

“There’s a show tonight,” she says, not meeting my eyes and she fidgets with her hands. “I… Mabel, I want to be open with you. I want you to know the kind of person I am. Will you attend?”

I look down at the ticket again. “You have some sort of performance?”

She pauses, then nods. “Mm-hmm,” she says.

We both giggle at the way imitates me.

“All right,” I say.

“Great!” she says, standing straight up. She grabs her things and begins moving toward the door. “The show’s at nine o’clock at Big Bay Arena! Don’t be late! I got you a front row seat! Bye!”

She’s gone before I have time to ask any more questions.

---

The arena is near the bay, but it’s smaller than the big sports coliseum I saw in town earlier. It’s already busy and there are crowds of people waiting in line to get in. I’m wearing my new dress, but I notice that while some of the people look like they’re dressed for the theater, others look surprisingly casual.

I show my ticket to man at the ticket booth and he nods. “First row, section B,” he says.

I go inside and up the stairs. There’s a tremendous sound of an enormous crowd, and I feel a little overwhelmed, but I push forward for Levana’s sake.

The circular arena is nearly full. I descend the steps past the throngs of people and see a strange, raised circular mound with a flat top in the center of the arena. Most plays I’ve seen have everyone facing the stage at one end of the theater, but this is something else entirely. How avant garde!

I take my seat. There’s a barrier wall in front of the seats. Now that I’m close, I see that the mound is tightly-packed earth. The area around it is covered with sand.

What sort of show is this, I wonder.

The lights go down save for the bright lights over the center of the stage. But instead of the crowd falling silent, everyone begins screaming and shouting!

I cover my ears, but then I see a man in a striped shirt run from the performer’s entrance and raise a fist in the air. With a microphone in one hand, he addresses the crowd.

“Ladies and gentlemen!” he bellows, his voice echoing across the arena. “Are you ready for the most exciting match this side of Bayopolis?!”

The crowd shouts back enthusiastically in response. But all I can think of is, Match?

The man in the striped shirt continues: “Then let’s bring out our first two contestants! I know they’re fan favorites, but they’ve had a bitter rivalry since they first joined the Rumble Federation!

“First, welcome our lovely lady from the east! She floats like a jellyfish and stings like one too, she moves like a gentle breeze but roars with the might of a dragon, and she can’t wait to show you all the might of her ancestral line… give it up for the Deadly Butterfly!”

The crowd roars again and suddenly I see a woman rush out and leap onto the mound. She raises her fists in the air and bellows.

I gasp. She’s wearing nothing but a short blue top and tight shorts! Her legs and feet are bare! Her belly is showing! And her hair is so short, she practically looks like a boy!

“Wh...what?” I whisper.

“And now, ladies and gentlemen,” the striped shirt man says, “we have her rival. Weighing in at 115 kilos and standing at 198 centimeters, this titanic troublemaker has tossed, tumbled, and trounced nearly every competitor in her path! Deadly Butterfly has already felt her earth-shaking, bone crushing fury before, and now she’s about to face it again. Ladies and gentlemen, put your hands together for that tower of power, Amazonia!”

I turn in the direction that the man is pointing and my heart nearly stops.

The tall woman running out from the opposite side of the arena is similarly dressed in tight, form-fitting clothing, only hers is red. She does a flip onto the stage and stomps the ground, sending up a cloud of dust. She stands tall and points a finger at Deadly Butterfly.

“I’ll kick your ass!” she shouts.

I feel faint. This loud, shameless woman in clothing that leaves almost nothing to the imagination… this brash, brutish warrior… it’s Levana!

The two of them come together and stand nearly chest-to-chest.

“Anything to say to your opponents, ladies?” the man - the referee - asks.

“I’ll avenge my humiliation in the name of my ancestors tonight!” Deadly Butterfly shouts, getting a cheer from the crowd.

Levana puts her hands on her hips. “You’ll try,” she says, her voice dark and unnaturally low. “And you’ll fail. Nothing can stand against me!”

The crowd makes a sound like “Ooooh” and many in the crowd laugh.

I feel a tightness in my belly, and I think about just standing up and leaving… but I’m so shocked that I simply sit there and take in the whole spectacle.

“In that case,” the referee says, “wrestlers, to the ready!”

They both take up a stance, legs spread slightly apart and arms raised.

“Fight!”

The display is brutish and everything about how I was raised tells me that it is wrong. But when I see Levana in action, her muscles straining as she grapples Butterfly, part of me can’t help but be excited.

Levana shoves her away and Butterfly aims a kick at her, but Levana grabs her leg and yanks her off her feet. She tries to pin her but Butterfly rolls away and leaps onto her back. I shout in surprise and fear, but Levana easily stands and manages to pry her off her back before shoving her away again. Butterfly charges at her with a guttural yell, but then Levana rushes at her in turn, holding out her arm and hooking it around her neck, sweeping her off her feet.

I gasp, my eyes going wide. That move she did… that’s the same move she did to the purse snatcher yesterday!

Levana brings her massive body down onto Butterfly and the referee begins pounding the ground as he counts. The crowd counts with him: “One… two… three!”

With a roar, Levana stands up again, raising her fists as Deadly Butterfly drags herself to her feet. She buries her face in her hands, but looks back at Levana with a fire in her eyes.

“Next time, Amazonia!” she shouts. “I’ll have my revenge!”

“And I’ll have my victory!” she shouts back, tossing her head back and laughing.

I can’t help but laugh too as I look up at her.

She looks down and pauses as she spots me. Her expression changes, softening for a moment as our eyes meet, before she goes back to hollering to the crowd.

---

I find myself down in the performer’s area below the arena. I was invited there courtesy of ‘Amazonia,’ the usher tells me.

There are numerous other women getting dressed or warming up or exercising in their rooms and along the hall. When I get to Levana’s room, her door is open. I walk inside and see her drinking a cup of water as she sits in front of the mirror.

“Levana!” I shout.

She turns, her eyes wide. “Mabel!” she cries, and stand up.

For a moment, neither of us know what to say.

“M...Mabel,” she stammers. “I know this must have been shocking, but I wanted to—”

“Levana, you were amazing!” I exclaim.

She freezes. “I was?”

“Yes! I mean, I was shocked to see you dressed like that and acting like that, but I… I have to admit that it was really exciting. I’ve never seen anything like it! You were so strong and fast! Oh, Levana, you were wonderful!”

I go to hug her again, but she backs away.

“Mabel, please!” she cries, her face looking flushed. “I… I mean, I’m all sweaty and I probably don’t smell like a bed of roses either.”

I stare. In her revealing outfit, I can indeed see that she is slick and glistening with sweat. She is without a doubt the most unladylike woman I have ever met… but I don’t care.

“I don’t care,” I say. And I hug her. She’s sticky, but it’s worth it. I’m so glad she shared this part of her life with me.

“M-Mabel,” she whispers. “I… you don’t know how happy this makes me.” She hugs me back.

I look up to smile at her. And then my blood goes cold.

She’s leaning down. Her eyes are closed. Her lips are parted. She’s holding me tighter.

“Mabel,” she moans.

I scream and shove her back.

“Mabel?!” she exclaims, staring back at me. “What’s wrong? I thought…”

I raise my hands to my mouth, shaking my head in horror. This is what Mrs. Yerbolsky was talking about when she said Levana had ‘two spirits.’

“‘A woman shall be with a man and a man with a woman,’” I whisper, quoting the Testament. “‘For a woman to join with another or a man to join with another is an abomination in the eye of the Allfather.’”

Levana covers her mouth. “Mabel, I… I’m sorry, I didn’t know—”

I turn and run. I run as fast as I can until I’m back outside, shouting for a taxi. A carriage draws up and only once I’m inside and going back to my hotel room to I let myself burst into tears.

---

The room is dark. I can’t see anything around me, but I hear the sound of my own breath. I look down and scream.

I’m totally nude. I cover myself in shame.

“Mabel.”

I look up. Levana is standing there. She is completely bare as well, but she doesn’t bother to cover herself. She is unashamed.

She steps forward and takes my hands. I cannot protect myself. I almost cry out to her to stop, but then she leans forward and seals her mouth around mine. I feel the roughness of her tongue.

Then she takes me up in her arms and presses me to her body. It’s soft, but so strong, and I moan; the sensation is amazing. She tumbles back and holds me. My tiny body is held tightly to hers.

I look down… I see myself sinking into her. I’m slowly disappearing beneath her soft, pale skin. She moans and calls my name one last time as I vanish into her, losing myself completely to her.

I have become her.

---

My eyes pop open. It’s just at dawn and I sit up. I’m still breathing hard and find that I’m drenched with sweat. The delicious sensation that runs through my awakened body lingers.

And then I think of what my family would think if they saw me like this. And the guilt wracks me as I curl myself into a ball and weep.

---

I go to the zoo alone. It’s… filled with animals.

I have a nice meal. It’s fine.

I listen to music. I can’t remember the song moments after playing it.

My day without Levana is so dull, but I tell myself that I must put her out of my mind. She’s a sinner, a harlot, and the very antithesis of the lady I was raised to be!

When I go to my hotel room’s bathroom and look at myself in the mirror, however, I see the plain, quiet girl there and realize something:

I wanted to get away from the lady I was raised to be. And I clench my fist with determination.

---

Levana doesn’t hear me come up behind her. She’s in her dressing room again, drenched with sweat just like before.

“Levana?” I ask.

She raises her head and sees me in the mirror.

“Mabel!” she cries, standing up and turning to face me. “Mabel, I am so sorry, I completely misunderstood you! And I know that you probably think I’m horrible and disgusting and the most unwomanly creature—”

“You aren’t disgusting,” I whisper. “Or horrible. Or even unwomanly. You’re my friend.”

Her eyes fill with tears.

“I left home to learn more about the world. To see how other people live. I don’t know if how you are is right or not… but the person you are is a good person. And that’s all that really matters.” I go to her and hug her again. “So… do you want to go to the zoo tomorrow?”

She holds me tight. “Mm-hmm."