Reyn woke to discover that her body had opinions about multiversal travel, and none of them were positive. Every muscle ached in new, creative ways, as if she'd been stretched across realities and snapped back like a cosmic rubber band. Which, she supposed, was essentially what had happened.

  She lay in bed staring at the ceiling, trying to make sense of the past month. Or day. Or however time had worked for her part. It had felt like a day, and a year, but in the real world a month had passed.

  No one would ever accuse Reyn of being an academic, but she was pretty sure the consensus was that there were only three realms: The Mortal, the Divine and the Demonic, although they supposedly had many other names as well, depending on who you'd ask.

  The Mortal realm was where people lived, worked, and complained about nobility or the common folk, depending on which class you belonged to.

  The Divine was where gods, demigods and their servants dwelt, occasionally interfering in mortal affairs when bored.

  The Demonic was full of demons and other creatures that were deemed unfit for the other two realms.

  Then where had Reyn been? The crystal void with its windows to everywhere? The space between spaces where cosmic janitors tended reality's gears? The garden at the edge of everything? These didn't exist in any story she'd heard.

  Her head hurt just thinking about it. Better to focus on practical matters. Reyn preferred what she could touch and sense with all her senses. Things that could be held. That had a point to their existence.

  She sat up, reaching for the star-filled sword leaning against her nightstand. In the morning light filtering through her window, the blade's surface seemed to shift, showing different constellations depending on the angle. Yesterday it had cut through reality itself. Today...

  She gave it an experimental swing. Nothing. Just a very nice sword moving through ordinary air in an ordinary room.

  "Yeah, I need to find a name for you," she said to the blade. "Can't keep calling you 'the other sword' forever. It's not befitting something of your character."

  Starfall? No, sounded like a tavern or a town high in the mountains. Night's Whisper? Too poetic. The Accident? Accurate but uninspiring.

  Her stomach growled, reminding her that she'd fallen through reality for a month without eating. Time was confusing; a month without food surely should've ended her life. Either way, she was hungry now, and she had little money to pay for food. Or her room. Or the bar she'd destroyed.

  Well, she thought, first things first. I should see how Rast and Marten are doing. Food could wait. After all, she might find something to eat on her way to the Temple of Healing.

  ---

  Westkeep in late morning had a different quality than she remembered. Nothing dramatic, just small changes caused by time passing. The flower seller's stall had moved three spaces down. New scratches decorated the fountain's already battle-scarred dolphins. A shop that had sold "Genuine Magical Remedies" now advertised "Authentic Mystical Solutions," which seemed like the same thing with different words in Reyn's mind.

  People recognized her, she was sticking out from the crowd after all, but their expressions held a peculiar confusion.

  "Didn't I see you yesterday at the market?" asked a fruit vendor.

  "I heard the Hand left you for dead in some river," muttered a baker.

  Reyn decided not to explain. She wasn't sure how to with normal small talk, and she was too hungry to attempt it anyway.

  "Good to see you, dear sirs," was all she said. "I am alive and well, and glad to see you are as well."

  The Temple of Healing looked exactly as she'd left it, except for new boards over one window and what appeared to be claw marks on the door. Elder Adra sat at her desk, filling out forms with the dedication of someone who'd found religion in paperwork.

  "Ah, the Bormecian," she said without looking up. "Right on time. Reyn, was it?"

  "Reyn Caleran. I'm a month late."

  "Yes, well, portal magic makes such things relative, don't you think?" Elder Adra raised her eyes. "We've been having some difficulties. Nothing on the scale of giant rats, but the regular-sized ones have been getting ideas above their station. Acolyte Vrennen will be delighted you've returned. She's been asking after you."

  "That's nice to hear." Reyn smiled, then looked around. "Where's Rast? And Marten?"

  "Through here," Elder Adra rose and led her to the recovery ward. "There were... complications."

  Rast lay propped up in bed, his left leg elevated and bandaged. He looked pale but fine, and surprisingly cheerful for someone who'd clearly been through an ordeal.

  Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  "Reyn!" He grinned and pulled himself up on his elbows. "Good to see you vertical. Horizontal myself, as you can see. Turns out giant rat bites can get infected. Who knew?"

  Isn't that common knowledge here? Reyn thought, but didn't ask in case she would offend someone.

  "Your leg..."

  "Oh, this?" Rast gestured at the bandages. "Festering wound, terrible infection. Nearly lost it, you know. It's getting better, but they want to make sure there's no remaining crap in there."

  "So you'll be good to go in no time," Reyn said and slapped him on his back.

  Rast winced at the slap, then he sighed and put his hands behind his head as he leaned down on his bed. "They say I'll have a permanent limp and some interesting pain when it rains or gets cold. But you know what? I'm thinking it might be a good thing."

  Reyn raised an eyebrow.

  "Really," Rast said. "Can't be a brigand with a bad leg, can I? Can't draw a bow properly anymore. But city guards? They don't need to run fast. Just need to stand at corners looking grumpy. Guard I knew up north took an arrow to the knee when he was an adventurer like you. Still works as a watchman. Says it gives him character and a good story to tell."

  Rast shrugged. "Figure this is the universe telling me to find honest employment."

  "That's... optimistic." Reyn couldn't fathom a life without adventure, but she had to admire the man's will.

  "It's practical. Plus, the Temple's been feeding me while I recover. First time in years I've had three meals a day without stealing them. I see little reason to complain." Rast paused and looked around. "Speaking of which, where's Marten?"

  Elder Adra's expression tightened. "Gone. Left in the night about two weeks ago, just as he was well enough to travel. I'm surprised you never noticed."

  Rast waved his hand. "He was a boring merchant."

  "Right." Elder Adra took a deep breath. "Anyway... He left this."

  She handed Reyn a sealed letter. Reyn stared at it as someone who saw something for the first time. Which, in fact, was just what was happening.

  "Oh, right," Rast said. "You don't read. Give it here."

  "I'll read it," Venn said from the doorway. She looked exactly as Reyn remembered, except for the too-clean traveling clothes she wore and the quarterstaff leaning against the doorframe. "I've read it several times already, trying to understand."

  "You've read it?!" Elder Adra's face turned red. "It is a sealed..."

  "I wanted to make sure it wasn't poisoned," Venn interrupted.

  She took the letter and cleared her throat:

  "To whoever finds this: I cannot stay. The Hand has eyes everywhere, and my presence endangers the Temple. I hired them once, to discourage a competitor. Just threats, I said. Just enough to make him consider another route. They killed everyone in his caravan instead. Men, women, children. When I tried to cut ties, they made it clear that our partnership was not voluntary. My 'business partner' Aldric Vaine ensures I continue to cooperate. He is respected, powerful, and ruthless. The guards he recommended were to ensure I had no choice but to continue. I am not brave enough to fight them. I can only run. May the gods forgive me for what I've helped create. Thank you for saving me, M."

  Silence settled over the room.

  "Aldric Vaine," Elder Adra said in disbelief. "He sits on the Merchant Council. Donates to temples and orphanages. His trading company employs half the dock workers in Westkeep."

  "And apparently works with bandits," Rast added. "That explains how they always knew which caravans to hit."

  "We need to do something," Venn said, her knuckles white where she gripped the quarterstaff.

  Rast whistled. "A man like that is damn near untouchable, unless you want to end up as food for maggots."

  Venn opened her mouth, to which Elder Adra raised her hand.

  "What we need," the Elder said, "is components from a Vescori. The temple's stocks are running dangerously low, and without proper antivenom, the next poison victim who comes through our doors will die. Hard to get any delivered, these days."

  "A Vescori?" Reyn asked. She agreed with Venn that they should do something with this Aldric Vaine, but from the sound of it even she realized it was a problem that wasn't likely to be solved by the swing of Good Deeds.

  "Venomous drake," Venn explained with wide eyes. "About the size of a large dog, but much more dangerous. They live in the rocky hills two days north of here. Their venom can kill in minutes, but properly diluted, it becomes a powerful medicine. It saved your friend's leg, here."

  Reyn crossed her arms across her chest and pondered for a second. She couldn't do much about the Hand or Aldric Vaine at the moment, but helping the Temple was within her skillset. "I'll go."

  Will this count as a good deed? Or a mighty beast?

  "We'll go," Venn said. "I've been preparing for weeks. Look!" She held up the quarterstaff and gave it an enthusiastic swing that nearly knocked over a medicine cabinet. "I've been practicing!"

  Reyn watched as Venn tried to spin the staff and dropped it with a clatter.

  "Can you fight?" Reyn asked, trying not to offend.

  "No," Venn admitted, picking up the staff.

  "Can you run?"

  "Yes! I'm a great runner. I've won several races against the other sisters."

  "Perfect!" Reyn said with a grin. "When do we leave?"

  "Tomorrow morning," Elder Adra said. "Acolyte Vrennen needs to gather supplies, and you need to pay for your room and the bar you destroyed. Yes, I know Marta well. We agreed that I'd take over your debt if you returned, for chores in return."

  Reyn sighed. She fiddled with the hilt of the star-sword.

  Maybe I could sell you. Debt Settler? she thought. Bar Destroyer?

  No, still not right.

  ---

  That evening, Reyn sat in the Temple's kitchen, working off part of her debt by helping with dishes. Venn chattered excitedly about their upcoming journey while attempting to help, though her version of helping involved dropping every third plate.

  "I've studied Vescori extensively," she said, barely catching a bowl before it hit the floor. "They're fascinating creatures. Intelligent, territorial, and their venom has unique properties that change based on their diet. Oh, and they can glide short distances using skin flaps between their legs!"

  "Wonderful," Reyn said while drying a plate. "Flying poison lizards."

  "Drakes, not lizards. Different classification entirely based on..." Venn paused, seeing Reyn's expression. "But that's not really important right now."

  Rast limped in, leaning heavily on a crutch. "Thought I'd find you here. Wanted to wish you luck before you left. And to say thanks."

  "For what?"

  "For not killing me that day by the river. For getting me to help with Marten. For showing me there's more to life than robbing travelers and running from guards." He shifted his weight, wincing slightly. "When I get back on my feet properly, I'm going to apply for the city watch up north. They need people who understand how criminals think. I'd say turning me around could be considered a good deed, don't you?"

  "I think it has to be of a larger scale, maybe," Reyn said with a shrug. She looked at Rast. "You'll make a good guard."

  "Maybe. Either way, it's better than ending up like Andres." He paused. "Or like the Crimson Hand will, once you get through with them."

  "One thing at a time," Reyn said smiling with the corner of her mouth. "First, flying poison lizards."

  "Drakes," Venn corrected.

  Rast laughed. "Try not to get killed by pedantry. It'd be an embarrassing way to go."

  As he limped out, Reyn returned to the dishes, her new sword propped nearby, Good Deeds still on her back. Tomorrow would bring new challenges, new dangers, and probably more failed attempts at naming her weapon.

  Portal Opener? she tried again. No, it didn't open portals anymore. Star Holder? Better, but still not quite right.

  She'd figure it out eventually. Probably. Maybe.

  But first, debts had to be paid, and dishes didn't wash themselves.