dusty streets. I walk forward, dodging piles of animal poop in the middle of the streets, and people pass by, dressed in the same loose, flowing clothing that the man with the land-hippo was wearing. They all look at me as if I'm crazy, but no one stops to talk to me. A few women whisper as they see me.
Well that doesn't make me feel uncomfortable at all.
I pause, trying to figure out where I am and where I need to go. Can I turn around? I look behind me, but there's no hint of the room I was just in. There's no door, no nothing, just stone walls, people leading around land-hippos and the occasional shabby-looking booth propped up against the walls.
There’s no obvious route home.
I pinch myself. Hard. Twice, just in case the first one didn’t count. Nope, I’m awake. Awake and hating this. I look around one more time for a door or a portal of some kind that would have dumped me here, but there’s nothing. It’s entirely possible I’m having a stroke or I’m in a coma or something and my brain is firing up fantasy scenarios, because this definitely looks more like Game of Thrones than Chicago. I gaze at the land-hippos and try to match them up with known animals on Earth, but I come up with a blank. I don’t think these are Earth creatures. And if that’s the case, where am I and how did I end up on another planet? I hesitate, and when a woman with a large basket on her hip pauses to adjust her load, I approach her.
“Excuse me,” I say brightly. “I seem to be lost.”
She frowns at my mouth, as if my words sound weird. Her gaze slides down to my clothing. “What’re you looking for? An inn?”
“An inn would be great. I don’t suppose you can tell me where I am?”
Her uneasy look grows. “The slums?”
“No, I mean here.” I gesture at the ground with both hands. “This city. Where is this?”
The woman’s brows go up. “Aventine?”
Aventine. Okay, that’s a start. I beam at her, trying not to panic. I’ve never heard of Aventine, but I’m admittedly not the best with geography. “And are we still on Earth?”
“Earth?” she echoes.
“The planet?” How has she not heard of Earth?
She makes a gesture over her chest—probably to ward off my crazy—and shakes her head, walking away. “Leave me alone.”
Right. Just makin’ friends wherever I go. I bite back a sigh of frustration. It’s obvious I don’t fit in here, which means that not only is this not Chicago, this is definitely not Earth. It’s also hot as blazes, the air dry. Considering it was sweater weather back home, I’ve definitely changed locations. I glance back at the woman with the basket, but she’s disappeared into the maze of crowded alleys.
All right then, I’m alone. Hot panic simmers in my chest. I can’t be stranded here. I don’t have my purse, or money, or even a fucking bra. I don’t have shoes. I don’t have the faintest idea of where the hell I am or how I got here. I want to press my hands to my forehead and cry. I want to collapse, but I know all of that won’t do any good. So I take a deep, shuddering breath, straighten my shoulders, and try to figure out where I am. If I got dumped here, it stands to reason someone will know how to put me back. I just have to find that person.
Somewhat calmer, I put my hands on my hips and gaze around me, trying to figure out my next move. The music continues somewhere nearby, low and urgent, and I decide I might as well follow it. Seems about as good an idea as any other idea.
I head forward through the dusty streets of…wherever I am. One thing I've learned about people thanks to five years in a corporate environment is that if you look confident, people will assume you know what you're doing and where you're going. So I put confidence in my step and stroll forward like this is all part of my master plan.
Fake it until you make it and all that.
The stone walls snake around, and I follow them until they fork, splitting in opposite directions. One way seems more crowded than the other, so I pick the less crowded path.
Almost immediately, I regret it. It opens up into what looks like a big open area in the