When most visit Japan, they do so for the modern excitement of Tokyo or the traditional beauty of Kyoto. Ancient shrines to unknown gods, bleeding edge technology, a unique culture: all attractions to the modern traveler. Not that Benedict didn’t want to see any of that, more that he wanted to set foot where few tourists did. He wanted a real adventure, and he was going to have it.

  He walked in a forest near Kumamoto on the island of Kyushu, having gotten himself good and lost. Animals called through trees. Dried leaves crunched under his feet. The aroma of nature filled his nostrils. He could have found such an adventure at home, but doing it in Japan felt more epic.

  Benedict had set off to the east, so did he continue east or make a turn north or south? “We let luck decide,” he said while removing a six-sided die from his backpack.

  The toss landed on five. To the east, then. He grabbed a piece of beef jerky from his pack and ate it as he kept hiking. The trees thinned out somewhat, leaving him with a better view of the bright sky and more room for flowers to grow instead of trees. Soft, springy ground rebounded under him with each step.

  Something barked to his right. A fox! And with brilliant white fur. It stared at him for a moment before it bowed and opened its mouth. Benedict stepped back slightly, then the fox spun around once, ending back in the same position.

  “Looking for play, little one?” Benedict asked, maintaining his distance.

  The fox raised its tail. Its fur remained flat against its body. It bobbed its head to one side and ran in that direction. Benedict watched it run a few yards. It halted and turned back to him. With a look that screamed disappointment, it bobbed its head again in the same direction.

  “Ah, you want me to follow, eh?”

  It bounced and bowed again.

  “Lead the way.”

  Benedict followed the creature through the forest, laughing as he went at the preposterous situation. The fox watched him, seeming to smile, and sprinted faster. Benedict followed it into a clearing. On the way out, his foot caught a root, and he fell face-first into a sweet-smelling blanket of flowers.

  Before him stood a traditional Japanese building in the center of the clearing. Brilliant red and blue banners covered with a strange, not-quite-Japanese script hung from the eaves. The fox sat in front of the sliding door, beckoning Benedict further with a swish of its tail.

  “I didn’t know I was about to star in a Ghibli movie,” Benedict said as he strode up to the door.

  Immediately upon entering the building, he was met with a counter, behind which was a solid wall of books. He could identify none of them. To one side, he saw a red curtain with more of the Japanese-like text inscribed in white running vertically down it.

  The fox hopped over the counter and ran through the curtain before Benedict could stop it. He silently prayed the owner didn’t blame him for any damage the animal caused.

  Said owner must not have cared, as in a moment she flew through the curtain, throwing it wide like a gust had caught it, all while the fox trailed behind her and maintained a smugness Benedict didn’t think an animal could. The woman wore a long black kimono falling off her shoulders. Her hair, tied into a ponytail, was so long it almost dragged along the ground. In her right hand, she wielded a long, metal smoking pipe with nothing inside.

  “Finally, someone finds little old me!” The woman spun like she was in a theater and bowed after speaking with no discernible accent. “You may call me Morighana.”

  Benedict looked her over twice before answering. “That might be the least Japanese name I’ve ever heard for a Japanese woman. Is your name so difficult to pronounce you must use a different one for foreigners?”

  “I do find it makes things easier, yes.”

  “Have it your way. What is this place?”

  “Why, this is my little wilderness bookstore. Quite quaint, yes?”

  Benedict ran his finger along the counter, checking for dust. “Quaint indeed. How do you remain in business?”

  “That is my secret.” She thwacked Benedict’s hand with her pipe. “Don’t touch my counter.”

  “Ow! Seriously, why did you pick this place?”

  “If you will not ask about my books, get out!”

  “All right, fine! What have you got?”

  “What stories do you enjoy?”

  A groaning sigh escaped Benedict’s mouth. “I’m a fan of a good adventure. High fantasy, low fantasy, pulp… anything in that vein, really.”

  Morighana’s eyes twinkled. “I have just the one!”

  Her kimono flowed like water around her as she spun again, reaching out and grabbing a book in a single smooth motion. Without breaking her momentum in the slightest, she lay the book on the counter face up. The cover showed a large circle of runes and a title written in the same script as the banners and curtain. When Benedict opened to the first page, however, the writing was in English.

  “Interesting,” Benedict said as he ran his eyes down the page.

  It read: “Our world is in grave danger. Monsters run loose across our lands, injuring and killing the innocent. We need help from an adventurer like you to cleanse us of this Scourge. Please, lend us your strength! Turn this page if you accept.”

  “Is this a gamebook?”

  Morighana stared at him. “Why would you think that?”

  “The intro just sounds like some I’ve seen in the past.” He flipped to the next page to find a standard fantasy map. “How much?”

  “Five thousand yen.”

  “I’ve paid more for less interesting.” Benedict laid the cash on the counter. “Thank you, Morighana-san.”

  “No. Thank you, sir.”

  “It was nice meeting you.” Benedict waved and turned to walk out the door.

  Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  “You didn’t read that page carefully, did you?” Morighana asked.

  “I understood it perfectly fine.” Benedict stared at her.

  “And you turned the page?”

  “To the map, yes. I normally check a couple of pages into a book.”

  “So you’ve accepted the contract! Wonderful!”

  “I really don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  Benedict slid the door open. Beyond it lay a black void, starting at the foundation of the home and extending forever outward. He shut the door again, took a deep breath, and opened it again. The same view met him.

  “Tell me what’s going on right now!”

  Morighana smiled. “Welcome to the World Between Worlds, Benedict Jewel. I am your guide, moving you from your world to the next, which you have just now promised to save.”

  “I did no such thing.”

  With a flick of Morighana’s finger, the book flew from Benedict’s hand, floated in front of him, and turned to the first page. “By turning this page, you accepted the charge to help defeat the Monster Scourge that plagues the land of Phynel,” she explained.

  “My family will worry!”

  “Follow me! I will prepare you for your journey!”

  “Are you list—”

  She had already vanished behind the curtain. Benedict followed her into a simple, unadorned room. Morighana stood near a chair, tapping her pipe on its back.

  “Sit,” she said.

  Benedict did so. “Let me get this straight. By turning a page in a book, I have become an adventurer in a world I didn’t know existed five minutes ago?”

  Instead of answering the question, Morighana drew a large circle behind herself. Like a television, it projected a view of various landscapes. Most of it was plains, forests, and mountains, like any fantasy world he’d experienced through literature. The few towns showed architecture Benedict would describe as “vaguely European.”

  “This is the land of Phynel,” Morighana said. “Like your world, it is home to great swaths of people living in cities large and small. Obviously, you can tell they aren’t as advanced as this world. I believe you would call this ‘medieval.’ Monsters run across this land, hunting people where they can and making the wilderness dangerous. Solving the problem of the Scourge will thus save the people of Phynel. Is all that clear to you?”

  “I cannot leave my parents and sister!” Benedict shouted.

  Morighana smacked him on the head with her pipe. “They’ll never miss you. You finish this task, you’ll end up right back at my shop at the same time you entered it.”

  “This is quite bizarre. How do I know I can trust you?”

  “As you’ve entered a magic-bound contract, you have little choice, Jewel-san.”

  Of course. “Fine. What do I have to do?”

  The pipe came down again. “Were you not listening? Stop the Monster Scourge and you’ll save the world and be able to come right back to this world!”

  “Do I get any help?”

  “I will give you the knowledge of the local language and, as adventuring is an essential there, knowledge of the weapon of your choice along with a selection of special powers linked only to me!”

  Morighana spun again. Various weapons materialized around her, floating in glowing auras. It was the selection he’d expect when making a Dungeons and Dragons character: a hammer, bow, sword, dagger, bigger sword, axe, and staff.

  “I’m an American. Do you not have a gun?” Benedict lifted his arm to block the incoming pipe. It still hurt, but not as much as a head strike.

  “What part of ‘medieval’ did you not get?”

  “Firearms showed up in Europe in the late Middle Ages in the forms of—”

  “Just shut up!” She didn’t use the pipe again.

  “Clarifying question. If I take a sword, the knowledge you give me will make me a master swordsman?”

  Morighana shook her head. “Heavens, no. I’m not making that mistake again. Your skill will be intermediate level, and you’ll need to prove yourself a capable adventurer. You aren’t getting a major shortcut.”

  Benedict tried to meet her gaze. “‘Again’?”

  “Just pick one!”

  The weapons rotated around her slowly, like a magical wheel. When the slender one-handed sword came near, Benedict grabbed the hilt and wrenched it free from its magical aura. His brain hurt for a moment while something surged in his body. Afterward, he spun the weapon around like he was performing tricks. It felt easy already.

  Morighana stepped aside as the other weapons disappeared. In her place, a dummy formed with a wooden stick in one hand. “Give it a shot.”

  The dummy slid toward Benedict like it was on skates, stick swinging wildly. He blocked most of the blows it sent his way, then thrust his new sword into its nondescript face. It swung again. He dodged and sliced through its thin neck, throwing its head into the air. It vanished as the head hit the ground.

  Benedict admired the blade. “I think that’s good enough.”

  “Then all you need is some adventurer’s garb appropriate for a swordsman. This is just temporary, obviously. You’ll find more after you earn money adventuring.”

  Magic flashed around Benedict. When it disappeared, it left him wearing long pants, some stiff boots, and a plain brown tunic. A belt wrapped around his waist, to which was attached a small, solid leather bag with a gem on the front. What it didn’t have was a scabbard.

  “Where do I put the sword?” Benedict asked.

  “The box on your waist is called a coffer,” Morighana explained. “It stores objects inside it using magic. You can draw anything out at any time by hovering your hand over the gem and mentally calling it. Please don’t call things out with your actual voice. It just looks foolish. To put an object in, hover it over the gem.”

  Benedict moved the sword over the gem, as instructed, and it disappeared. When he held his hand over it again, he felt the sword like it was right in his grip. It was unmistakable, like the weapon had imparted its signature onto his mind. It reappeared in his hand.

  “That’s interesting and convenient.”

  “Which means you’re all ready for your big adventure!”

  Morighana put both hands on his shoulders, then guided him back to the door. It slid open as they approached it. The outside had changed again to a plain extending into the distance to a snow-capped mountain range.

  “One last thing,” Morighana said. “I give you this power to defeat the Scourge, but most will fear it. Never use it where others can see you, or you’ll put yourself in grave danger.”

  She pushed. Benedict tripped over the threshold, face planting into the grass. He turned to complain, and the shop was gone with no sign it had even been there. Above him, a pair of moons hovered in the sky, one slightly larger than the other, and a vast flock of four-winged birds crossed in front of them. Morighana wasn’t lying. He stood on the grounds of an entirely different world.

  The forest around Benedict and Shiyo glowed in the twilight, long shadows painting a beautiful contrast along the well-worn road. They had walked all day, and somehow their feet were only moderately tired. Benedict assumed it was more of Morighana’s power.

  “And that’s how I got here,” Benedict said, finishing his story.

  “That sounds like something Morighana would do,” Shiyo said. “Some might call her a goddess, but I’ve met more intelligent people neck deep in mead.”

  “What about you? How did you get here?”

  “You don’t need to know that.”

  “It can’t be that bad.”

  “You aren’t hearing my—wait!”

  “Hold on, I think—”

  Shiyo’s hand clamped over his mouth, and she motioned for silence. Through the trees, somewhere close by, someone was shouting. Distance and forest muffled specific words, but it sounded like distress. She dashed off, drawing her sword as she ran.

  Benedict drew his weapon and followed with greater difficulty than he expected. Shiyo charged like a gazelle through the trees, bounding off roots and over stones. The small enhancement he received from Amelie didn’t keep him from tripping over those same roots and stones, but helped him keep his balance. More annoyingly, he snagged his sword on so many trees that he flipped it around to an icepick grip.

  Shiyo stood behind a tree when Benedict finally caught up. Maybe fifty yards past, an argument flared. On one side: a group of seven men in regular adventuring garb; on the other: a single, well-dressed and well-groomed man.

  “Without guests, I can’t pay you!” the latter shouted.

  One of the former group, seemingly their leader, stepped forward and cracked his knuckles. “Listen, if you don’t come up with our payment, you’ll never get another guest again.”

  “What can we do?” Benedict asked.

  “I can take four quickly enough,” Shiyo said. “You?”

  “Two at most with the element of surprise. Unless I use Morighana’s power.”

  “So not enough.” She drew a small metal ball from her pouch and held it to her mouth.

  After murmuring something into the object, Shiyo reared back and threw it hard as she could. It sailed deep into the woods behind the group, unnoticed. On impact, it let out a shriek and a flash. Everyone turned to it, drawing their weapons.

  “Something’s back there,” one adventurer shouted.

  “Well, go look!” the leader ordered. “Your luck has held for now, Harald. Don’t forget our coin.”

  “Yes, of course!” the well-dressed man said.

  The adventurers disappeared into the forest. Shiyo darted from cover first, straight to Harald.

  “Are you well?” she asked while drawing a healing potion.

  Harald nodded and refused the potion. “They just threatened me.”

  “What were they on about?” Benedict asked.

  “Not here. Come. I own an inn near to here.”