Chapter 5



	The twin moons hung in the sky like giant, swollen pearls, 
a constant reminder that his particular Alice had stepped firmly into 
Wonderland. The wagon rolled unsteadily along the thin stretch of 
road, the huge horses patiently moving ahead. Their hooves made 
a rhythmic clicking sound on the solid earth, at odds with the 
abrupt jerking of the seat beneath me. Each time we hit a bump I 
felt it jolt up my spine like a red-hot needle piercing my skin.

	I was exhausted, I ached from head-to-toe, I was thirsty. And 
I wanted to go home!

	Except for a few moments in Vietnam, this was the closest 
I'd come to simply curling up in a ball and pulling the covers over 
my head, just wishing it all away. Well, nothing about this was easy - 
but I was not going to give whoever or whatever had dumped me into 
this nightmare the satisfaction of seeing me bawl like a baby. All 
that military and FBI training came in handy now - I simply gripped 
on the handlebar before me and held on for dear life. I could feel my 
jaw squeezing, clamping down hard, making the muscles strain around 
my gritted teeth. An incongruous memory stuck, my dentist warning 
me about the dangers of overstressing those muscles and tendons. 
Who would have thought the jaw could suffer the same agonizing 
inflammation as a knee or elbow. But it could - and mine now screamed 
with the stress it was under.

	Somehow the image of that white-coated, pearly-toothed 
man standing over me with a stainless steel instrument of torture 
in his rubber-gloved hand was suddenly a breath of fresh air. Normality. 
Familiarity. I closed my eyes and for the very first time in my life (and 
hopefully the last) wished that I was right there right now.

	Yet, when I opened my eyes, all I could see was the broad 
backs of the horses, the endless rolling fields sloping off into the 
distance, and those two damned moons.

	I was so tired.

	I swayed...and a firm hand steadied me. Tilting my head 
around, I found myself staring into the gleaming yellow eyes of my 
erstwhile companion. He peered up at me, the look of concern 
obvious, even on such a strange face. It comforted me, yet frightened 
me at once. What was this creature? He was intelligent, friendly - 
apparently. One of Mulder's 'little green men' perhaps? Though a flash 
of memory reminded me that Mulder's LGMs were actually gray. Or 
so he said. But still... had I somehow been transported onto another 
planet? At this point, it was as good an explanation as any other.

	Combined with the kindness of my little friend, that thought 
strangely calmed me down. He gestured towards the back of the 
wagon a couple of times, pointing first at my chest, and then at the 
curtain that separated us from the inside. Assuming that I had 
interpreted his intentions correctly, I nodded dazedly, and turned 
around to open the curtain.

	Oh God... blankets. Piles and piles of thick blankets. Nothing 
could ever have appeared more welcome, except maybe the sight of 
my own bed. Climbing into the back of the wagon took some maneuvering, 
for it didn't take much thought to figure out that this wagon had been 
made for people - uh, creatures - who were much smaller than I. But 
I managed it somehow, perhaps through an act of pure desperation. 
And the moment my head hit those scratchy, woolen bundles....

	"No! No! No!" I screamed, shoving away at the insects and 
snakes that crawled over my body. I could hear the endless rustle 
of the jungle around me, punctuated by the roar of machine gun fire. 
The world spun around me, a cacophony of sound, a kaleidoscope 
of images. A sneering foreign face hovered over me, machine gun 
held in grimy hands. It shifted, cavorted, altered into the visage of 
a monster. I fell. Clutching at strands of light and gusts of darkness, 
I tumbled. Screams ripped from my throat until the gurgle of sound 
strangled on my lips and silence tore at my lungs.

	I fell.

	Images, whirlwind of light and shadow. Snatches of conversation.

	Mulder, fierce and angry. "Where do you stand?"

	My own voice, fought against itself to make him understand.
"On the line that you keep crossing!"

	He couldn't understand. I wanted to reach out. My hand 
trembled, curled into a fist. I couldn't do it. I couldn't say the 
words. He needed so much that I couldn't give. But I wanted to....

	Winds buffeted me and I was torn away. Mulder faded into a 
gray shape in the distance, only the anger and frustration remaining. 
That whorled around me. Tore at my soul. I reached for something... 
something solid to hold onto....

	Light. A room took shape around me and I gasped with the 
relief of familiarity. Long and narrow, dominated by a couch and a 
computer desk. Books everywhere...Mulder's apartment. Strange, so 
strange that I would be so comfortable with the home of a subordinate. 
No, not comfortable, but connected.

	Mulder! I opened my eyes, called out his name...but the 
answering shape that flowed into solidity before my eyes was not 
tall and dark. Flame and porcelain, small and slight.

	Scully!
	
	Joy flooded me. Scully - ever the practical one. Solid, certain 
Scully. A zone of safety in a crazy world. I trusted her, even in a 
way I don't trust Mulder. Oh, I do trust him - and yet.... Mulder is 
too caught up in his cause, too blind sometimes to see the world as 
it is. But rational, cool, professional Scully... oh, yes. This one I 
could trust and rely upon. 

	"Scully."

	My voice was hoarse, my throat raw with the very effort at 
speech. But surely she could help me escape from here. But where was 
here? I was so lost. 

	"Scully?"

	But her face was taut with rage. So angry she wasn't even 
shaking with the emotion. Cold and bitter, her gun held with steady 
hands. The heavy muzzle pointed directly at my heart. And her 
eyes... She could shoot me. She would shoot me.

	"No..." the whisper in my mind wasn't spoken aloud. Couldn't 
she realize I'd never betray her? Not willingly. I've tried to protect 
her. To protect her partner. As much as I could. As much as I dares. 
Riding the fine line between caring for my own (oh, when had these 
two become 'my own') and doing my duty to my country. 

	Her fingers tightened on the gun and her blue eyes blazed 
with icy fury. She would take my life in trade for Mulder's. In payment 
for a crime I did not commit. And yet, all I could think was how 
beautiful she was....

	A flash of bright light, blinding. Shattering. I screamed and 
cover my eyes. I was thrown again on the winds of a nightmare. 

	I slid to my feet, space tilting around me until it steadied 
into place. Gravity took hold and I opened my eyes into a haze of 
smoke. He hovered over me. As cold as Scully was, yet empty as 
she was full. Her life force had burned me, this one chilled me. I 
shivered despite myself. I couldn't hear his words, even though I 
knew the sense of them. I know I answered, but I know not what 
I said. It didn't matter...the whirlwind was loose again.

	A flood of images now. Vietnam and Washington. Agents and 
enemies. Words in many tongues, some of which I understood, 
some of which held their meaning as closely as a lethal secret. A 
grotesque figure rearing its head before me, eyes bulging, mouth 
twisted, body misshapen. I blinked and reared back, but there was 
nothing to protect me.

	I stared into the eyes of horror and found myself staring 
back at Me.

	I screamed...
	
	...and woke to find a comical face staring anxiously down 
at me. His skin was green, his eyes yellow. I opened my mouth to 
scream again, sure I was still trapped in a nightmare, but his chatter 
startled me and I gasped for breath as a cool, wet cloth rubbed 
softly over my forehead.

	The creature chattered brightly, in a rolling, fluent tongue 
that reminded me of water trickling through a fountain. Bubbly and 
rhythmic, echoing light. It was soothing, though I could not 
understand a word. He - it - smiled at me, and the gesture was 
surprisingly comforting. Stronger than it looked, the being settled 
me down amid a pile of thick wool, refusing to let me sit up. I 
struggled for a moment, then gave in. More to the headache that 
struck me like lightning at the sudden motion, rather than at any 
impetus of his. Laying still eased the pain, and I finally accepted 
gratefully. He urged a small flow of a sweet, rich liquid into my 
mouth, and I swallowed reflexively. Warmth spread from contact 
with the fluid, and I gulped down the next mouthful. It wasn't 
alcohol; more like tea. But different from anything I had ever tasted 
before.

	Then my eyelids drooped. My surroundings faded into a gentle 
haze, and I slept.

					~ ~ ~ 

	I awoke again to the slow rock of the wagon along the road. 
Groaning aloud, I turned over on my side, fighting manfully against 
one of the worst headaches I'd ever suffered. I felt like I'd been run 
over by a truck, aching in every bone, muscle and joint of my body 
and the too-close memory of the giant cat reminded that it might 
just have been worse.

	A part of me still fought to deny the situation I found 
myself in, but my memories were too compelling and immediate 
to deny. Besides, the interior of that wagon and the agony pulsing in 
my shoulder were definite reminders that whatever was happening, 
was *really* happening.

	I sat up slowly, putting out a hand to keep my balance as 
dizziness threatened to topple me. I waited for a while - I have no 
idea how long - until I could sit without having to hold on to the 
sides of the wagon. Remembering my little friend, I carefully crawled 
forward and peeked out through the curtains towards the front seat. 
He must have heard me coming, because he instantly turned to smile 
at me. Actually, he wasn't quite so bad-looking; in fact, he was kind 
of attractive in an odd sort of way. Despite the heavy brow-ridge, 
there was an aware intelligence in those yellow eyes, and his manner 
was at the same time questioning, concerned and totally non-
threatening.

	Well, when in Rome...

	I returned his smile, as well as I could considering how lousy 
I felt, and gingerly began to ease myself back up beside him. He 
gestured quickly towards me, bobbing his head in an odd sideways, 
upwards twist. I stopped and met his frustration with my own, but he 
settled it soon with a gentle shove against my chest. He wanted me 
to stay in the back of the wagon, and as the dizziness hit me again, 
for once I was not about to argue.

	"Okay, little guy," I muttered. "Why not?"

	I wasn't ready to sleep again, especially since my shoulder 
was beginning to burn as though it had been torched instead of 
clawed. The skin was bright red and my stomach sank deeply into 
my gut as I realized it was certainly infected. So far, my glimpses of 
what passed for civilization in this place did not lead me to believe 
that they might have something like a hospital or antibiotics 
available. I cringed at the thought of what the local equivalent of a 
doctor might be - some mad old coot with a jarful of leeches, 
probably. Besides, if I was the only human - how would one of their 
doctors be able to treat me? Who knew if our biology was anything 
alike?

	But wait! Mulder and Scully. The creature at least knew of 
them. And if Scully was here, she would be able to help. The sudden 
bolt of excitement made my heart beat faster, and I poked my head 
back through the heavy curtain.

	"Mulder and Scully?" I questioned, hoping that the names, at 
least, would stir some kind of response.

	They did. The big, round head bobbed again, in the opposite 
direction, then a surprisingly long-fingered hand pointed out over 
the fields to the left. Following, my eyes found themselves drawn 
to a huge shadow looming over the trees in the distance. The road 
curved around a small rise, and the shape came clearer with every 
lurch of the wagon.

	Towers formed of gray stone loomed upward into the falling 
dusk. My mind made faint note of the fact that I'd lost a day - at 
least - in transit, but the structure we approached soon grabbed 
every bit of my attention. It was a castle. A real, live medieval 
castle. Unfamiliar flags waved over the summits of the towers. A huge 
stone wall surrounded the structure like a giant belt. The buckle was 
a massive iron gate, embroidered with fancy golden gilt and edged 
with sparkles of silver. Two men stood beside it - human! - both 
dressed in dark green leather and holding long heavy swords out 
before them.

	My little friend pulled the wagon up short in front of the gate 
and spoke rapidly with them in that same flowing language. They 
nodded, and one made a smart, slashing gesture with his right hand. 
With a loud ratcheting sound, the enormous gate began to rise, being 
borne upwards with an unseen mechanism, powered by unseen workers. 
The castle loomed above us as we entered a long driveway, scattered 
outbuildings giving way to terraced courtyards as we drew closer.

	I stared around me, even as the wagon came to a halt. The 
exhausted, sweaty horses snorted and whinnied, calling for their 
dinner. Men rushed forward to release them from the harness, and I 
was grateful, yet again, to see recognizably human figures. I opened 
my mouth to call out to one of them, but the sound of their voices 
stilled my own. They spoke the same strange language as my little 
green friend, and I had the sudden, sinking feeling that while they 
might appear human on the outside, they could be very different on 
the inside.

	Numb and aching, I let the little guy lead me down from the 
seat. My feet protested loudly at being forced to support my weight, 
and I stumbled. A strong pair of hands seized my arm and shoulder, 
supporting me, and I squinted through tired, burning eyes at a 
stranger.

	A truly lovely stranger. A waterfall of golden hair cascaded 
down her back, weaving over her shoulders. Her eyes were darkest blue, 
wide and large, surrounded by perfectly clear, peach-colored skin. The 
bones of her face were heavy, but refined, each part welding into a 
whole that was far, far more than the sum of its parts. She was 
breathtakingly beautiful - and suddenly I was struck with the 
knowledge of where I was.

	Heaven. 

	Where else could such an beautiful angel, dressed in a long 
white gown and soft brown robe, be found? Her touch was instantly 
soothing, the murmur of her voice a blessing to my ears. This was 
not how I'd pictured heaven to be, but right now I could hardly 
complain. Wavering against her, I let her lead me across the dusty 
courtyard towards a small wooden building.

	Once inside, she eased me onto a sweet-smelling bed. The 
thin mattress was set on a wooden cot, a cot obviously not made 
for someone of my size.  My feet hung over the end of it, but at that 
point I couldn't have cared less. The world swam around me, vertigo 
making my stomach roll, even as I dropped downward into the embrace 
of those soft blankets and pillows. It felt so good tears came to my 
eyes. Heaven indeed - especially when my personal angel leaned over 
me, and gently sponged my throbbing forehead with a cool, damp cloth.

	My eyes flickered shut, even though I strained to keep her 
in sight. The vision of her, bright against the darkness, stayed 
before my retinas even when my lids fell closed. Lethargy stole any 
remaining energy, and the clear, rhythmic chanting of her voice was 
the last thing I heard as I slipped away....


End Chapter Five


Chapter Six


	"More wine, Scully?"

	"No, thank you, Reinald.  I'd better keep a clear head in 
case tonight's the night for Shannon.  So where did you say 
Tarnor is?"

	"Jourdain, pass that along to Aldara, please ....  

	The dinner party was in full swing as the friends once more 
sat down to dine together after the long absence of the Mage and 
his Companion.  "He's on his way back home from a visit to his 
family," Reinald said.  "They were thrilled to hear that you're back. 
There's an open invitation for you to see them."

	"Too bad we don't have time to visit this trip," sighed 
Mulder.  "I think my digestive system has almost recovered from 
my last experience with gargoyle cuisine.  Maybe next time."

	"Well, Tarnor should be here by morning, and if I know Afla, 
she's sent some of her home cooking with him, so you may yet get 
to have some of her fiery stew.  I received a message from him not 
long ago by Oracle Cloud.  He is so anticipating seeing you that 
he tried to convince me to Gate him here.  I wish I could have 
accommodated him.  Of course, it causes too much disruption to the 
magically sensitive in Fairwoods to risk constructing a Gate without 
pressing reason,"  he explained to Mulder.

	"Oh, I understand, Reinald.  Gunther, you're very quiet."

	"Yes. Just pondering our little problem with the vortex."

	"Problem?" asked Scully.

	"You know, the flares Gunther mentioned before he brought 
us through," explained her bondmate.  "Sorry, I didn't get a chance 
to tell you.  Apparently there was a flare not long after we left.  
Gunther is concerned that someone could have been accidentally 
brought into the Realm."

	"If the vortex flare appeared in our office, I shouldn't think 
there's much chance of that.  Unless one of our mysterious friends 
was in there planting a bug, there shouldn't have been anyone in our 
office to bring through.  Even the custodial staff avoids it like the 
plague.  They've reported us to OSHA, saying we leave potentially 
lethal substances around in there."

	"That's what Mulder said.  Still... as you know, my dear, 
a scientist distrusts unexplained anomalies."

	While Mulder described the finer points of 'planting a bug' 
to a mystified Jourdain, Aldara and Reinald, Scully smiled 
confidently.  "Well, there's no reason to worry.  I'm sure you and 
Hannu will get to the bottom of it, Professor Neumann....  It's too 
bad Hannu couldn't join us tonight."

	"He's trying to spend as much time as he can with Shannon," 
replied the Royal Mage.  "Once the child begins its journey, he 
won't be allowed to see her until the Naming Day Ceremony."

	"I would not say this if Ballorca were in earshot, but I 
wonder sometimes at the reason for some of our traditions, Reinald," 
commented Aldara.  "Some are simple to understand; indeed, even 
make good sense.  But some seem so- "

	There was a pounding at the door.  Puzzled, Reinald rose to 
answer the summons himself.  As he opened the door, a disheveled  
and breathless Pitir almost tumbled to the floor.

	"Quick! Kyla's cottage!"

	"What is it, Pitir?  How do you come to be in such a state?  
Is it Queen Shannon?  Has she sent for Kyla?"

	The little troll mage gulped and shook his head.  Panting, 
he forced out, "Quick!  You must come!  A huge hairless human!"

	"A huge hairless human?" Mulder repeated, a smile on his 
lips.  Then, suddenly, he and his bondmate looked at each other, horrified.

	"No - it couldn't - "

	"Jesus, Scully, you don't think- "

	The Mage and his Companion darted through the door, along 
the passageways and down the staircases, only dimly aware of the 
clatter of their friends' footsteps close behind them.  They finally 
skidded to a stop in front of Kyla's cottage door, gave a cursory 
knock and went in.

	The Healer knelt over the low cot which looked ridiculously 
small for the unconscious form lying upon it.  She was deep in a 
healing trance, a well-founded action from what they could see of 
the injured man.  His clothing was in shreds and liberally 
bloodstained.  Glancing at one another, Mulder and Scully took a 
deep breath and moved hesitantly to the other side of the cot so 
they could see his face.

	//Oh, *shit*!  Scully, what are we going to do?\\

	He felt her resolve as she joined Kyla, placing her hands 
with precision on Skinner's abdomen and left shoulder.  In seconds, 
she had joined the chant.

	Jourdain came to stand next to Mulder, and whispered, "Do 
you know this human?"

	Mulder held up his hand, forestalling more questions and 
thinking furiously as the Healers' chants ebbed to a close.  Scully 
spent a few more moments at the bedside, then rose and nodded 
at her bondmate.  He gathered the others as she had a word with 
Aldara, then went to join the men outside in the herb garden.  The 
sky was a crisp clear blue, rapidly darkening as the group gathered.

	"He is from your world, then?" Reinald questioned softly.

	"It's worse than you can imagine," replied Mulder grimly.  
"That's Skinner, our boss.  Assistant Goddamn Director of the 
Goddamn FBI.  How is he, Scully?"

	"It looks as if he were attacked, probably by an animal.  
Maybe a woodscat, from the appearance of his wounds.  He's 
suffering from exposure, some sort of fever, has some bruises and 
a few really nasty infected lacerations, but Kyla has him well on 
the way to recovery.  He's in no danger now."

	"Wish we could say the same for us.  What the hell are we 
going to do?"

	The Professor looked more drawn and haggard than usual in 
the deepening dusk.  "I blame myself for this.  I should never have 
risked opening a vortex when we knew we had a problem with it."

	Mulder patted the old man's shoulder absently. "Don't blame 
yourself, Gunther.  I can count on one hand the number of times 
Skinner has been in our office in the last four years.  It should 
have been perfectly safe.  It just... wasn't....  How long will he be 
out, Scully?"

	"I made contact with Kyla after we finished the healing chant.  
She'll try to keep him down for a while until we decide what we're 
going to do.  Maybe a candlemark - if we're lucky.  You know 
Skinner."

	"Yeah. I know Skinner," he responded dryly.  "All right. I 
suggest we sit down and get comfortable while we try to put 
together a plan."  They found benches close by.

	"This Skinner - is he to be trusted?" asked Jourdain 
suspiciously.

	Mulder shook his head hopelessly.  "That's the problem. I 
really don't know, Jourdain.  In certain things, yes, I think so.  I 
don't believe he would want any harm to come to me or Scully.  
He's helped us in the past - and we've helped him.  But I don't 
know how far his loyalty to us goes.  The circumstances are hardly 
ordinary.  Sometimes he can be such a damn hard-ass that- "

	"Haarrdd-asss?" Jourdain asked, pronouncing the unfamiliar 
words awkwardly.

	"Sorry.... I'm not sure there's a New Realm equivalent.  Sort 
of like Ballorca, I guess.  Everything by the book."

	"Ah, yes.  I see."

	"Mulder, if he is in authority, then he could lead the 
Gestapo types right into the Realm," Neumann said anxiously. 
"The same soldiers that came after you and Scully that evening you 
disappeared from my lab with Tarnor.  Or worse - the men responsible 
for Karen's abduction and death, who were experimenting with the 
vortex themselves."

	Scully looked thoughtful. "I really don't think so, Professor 
Neumann. I-I don't know why I feel that way, but I just don't think 
Skinner is capable of that kind of cold-bloodedness."

	"But you may not know what kind of pressures he may be 
under, my dear,"  Gunther said sadly.  "Obviously, there are factions 
within the government that could make his cooperation with them 
unarguable."

	//He has a point,\\  Mulder said, meeting his bondmate's 
eyes.  "All right, I'm open to suggestions.  Anyone have any?"

	"Why not simply send him back through the vortex?" Jourdain 
said, shrugging.  "Perhaps he'll think being here was a fever dream."

	They were quiet as they considered the Captain of the Guards' 
suggestion.

	Slowly the Professor shook his head.  "This is my fault, and 
no one is more aware of the potential damage to the Realm than I.  
If those experiments are resumed, if those fascists start coming into 
the Realm, then life as we know it here is over.  But still...  I must 
speak against such a plan, for two reasons.  First, we would be 
sending an unconscious or semi-conscious man through the vortex, 
unable to take any action to protect himself on the other side.  It 
could be equal to murder, and I will not have any part in it.  And 
secondly, time is still going through the backwash.  It would take 
me days to do the calculations accurately in order to send him back
to his own time.  The slightest, most minute fraction off, and he 
could be sent through to the middle of the ocean, or end up years 
from his proper time.  No, I won't be a party to it."

	"And I must concur," added Reinald.  "As magic would 
necessarily be involved, I cannot condone its use in a manner that 
could bring harm to someone who has innocently become enmeshed 
in this predicament.  No matter what danger to the Realm this man 
might present."

	"Point taken. And you're both quite correct.  Besides, we 
have no idea how long Skinner may have been here.  If he were caught 
in the backwash, he may be arrived weeks ago. Nothing that could be 
dismissed as a fever dream. Okay," said Mulder, sighing.  "That takes 
care of Plan A.  Does anyone have Plan B?"

	They were silent for several long moments.

	"What if... what if we could keep him in a healing trance?" 
he wondered aloud.  "Scully, would that be possible?  What if we 
could keep Skinner in a healing trance until the Professor can make 
the calculations?  Then we could go back with him, to make sure he 
got back all right, and then try to make up some story to explain it 
all. What do you think?"

	He could sense the light shield that came down as she 
paused to dispassionately consider the idea, but took no offence. 
Both he and Scully had learned that sometimes in order to hear their 
own thoughts, they had to create some quiet space in which to do so. 
They gave each other that, freely.

	"What about Shannon?"  she finally asked.

	"Naturally, I'd be disappointed not to be here when she had 
her child" //though not at missing the Ritual of Royal Birth\\ he added 
for her only, "but if I had to make that sacrifice to ensure the 
safety of the Realm, I'm sure Shannon would both understand and 
agree."

	"I'm sure she would too, Mulder.  But that's not what I was 
getting at.  Even a good-sized place like Fairwoods is not exactly 
jumping in Healers.  There's Kyla, me, Sirisa- "

	"Unfortunately not,"  Reinald interjected.  "Sirisa is in 
Yellowforks.  The village Healer died there suddenly.  She'll be 
serving the beings there until another can be found to take his 
place."

	"So there's just Kyla and me?"

	Reinald nodded.  "We could send to Waterrush or 
Cresscreek for another, but it would take time."

	"Mulder, Shannon could go into labor at any time.  I don't 
think Kyla and I could manage to keep Skinner in a healing trance 
for days, and also attend Shannon.  Besides, I'm not an authority, 
but I believe there would be an ethical problem with that, as well.  
It just strikes me as wrong to keep Skinner sedated in that way."

	"Quite right, my dear,"  the Royal Mage said kindly.  "I 
don't think Kyla would agree, especially if it meant it might increase 
the risk to Shannon or her child."

	"Well, if you can't sedate him, could you use the healing 
trance - or Reinald, could we use magic - to just... remove... 
Skinner's memories of the Realm?  Just kind of erase them?"

	Scully looked at her bondmate in mixed exasperation and 
amusement.  "Mulder, this isn't Star Trek.  Even if Spock could 
remove Captain Kirk's tragic memories, I'm not sure a Healer could.  
And again, I think the ethical issue remains."

	Mulder looked to Reinald, who nodded.  "All right, so much 
for Plan B," he said heavily.  "What's our alternative?"

	"Plan C - tell him the truth." replied his bondmate simply.

	"It's a risk, Scully."  He looked around at the stars which 
were beginning to wink in the sky, at the twin moons, at the hearth-
lit windows of the cottages nestled in the shadows of the castle 
walls.  "And just look at what we'd be risking."

	She sensed her bondmate's love for his adopted home, felt 
it as he felt it.  In spite of some of the horrors they had seen here, 
the Realm was also the place where they found each other - and true 
happiness - for perhaps the first time in their lives.  "I know, Mulder.  
But I don't think Skinner would betray our trust, betray this place 
or its beings," she said softly.

	"Healer Corvay used to speak highly of your psi ability, my 
dear," observed the Royal Mage.  "Do you think that is what is 
telling you that this man can be trusted?"

	Scully smiled. "I honestly don't know, Reinald. I think that 
could be a part of it, yes.  Plus the fact that Skinner may be a 
hard-ass, but I also think he's a decent, honorable man.  I really 
can't believe he would do anything that could trigger a wholesale 
invasion of the Realm."

	"I don't either, Scully.  But the Realm isn't ours to risk."

	She frowned.  "Actually, I'm more worried about how Skinner 
will take all this psychologically.  He doesn't strike me as the most 
imaginative sort of guy, and I know what a hard time I had coming 
to terms with all this.  It isn't going to be any easier for him."

	"Oh, he may surprise you, Scully,"  Mulder said, thinking 
back to Skinner's confession of his near-death experience in the 
jungles of Vietnam.  "I'm not saying it will be easy, but presented 
with the facts...."

	Distracted by her own thoughts, she caught few of his.  "If 
you say so.  So, that's our plan?  Tell the truth?"  The bondmates 
looked to their Realm friends.  They were most at risk - it had to be 
their decision.

	"Short of locking him in one of the dungeons, it appears to 
be the only choice we have," commented Jourdain sensibly.  "Are 
we agreed then?"

	Light spilled out from the open door of the cottage into the 
garden as Aldara joined them. "Kyla says to tell you he's beginning 
to awaken.  I recognized him, of course.  It's Skinner, isn't it?"

	Mutely, Scully nodded, then brought her friend quickly up to 
speed on their discussion.  Although she had expected an argument 
from the fiery half-elf, surprisingly Aldara agreed immediately.

	"It seems that you may not have thought of the most 
persuasive reason of all for Skinner's being here."  She saw their 
puzzled faces and shrugged.  "Perhaps the Goddess has intervened.  
Perhaps your Skinner is meant to be here."  She led the thoughtful, 
silent group back into the cottage.

	They stood in a semi-circle around the cot as Skinner stirred.  
The fire in the hearth popped and spat, and his eyes flew open.  He 
tensed visibly, as his eyes swept from left to right, then suddenly 
focused back on the two who, despite their bizarre garb, seemed 
strangely familiar.

	"Mulder? *Scully*?"

	"How are you feeling ,sir?"

	"Feeling?  How am I *feeling*?  Where the hell am I, 
Mulder? What the fucking hell is going on?"

	"Uh - if you're up for a little walk, sir, Scully and I can 
explain on the way...."

	"On the way to where, exactly?" Then he took a longer look 
around him, his expression becoming more and more confused as he 
became aware of his surroundings. 

	"How long have I been out?" he demanded.

	Scully cleared her throat. "That's a little difficult to tell 
here, sir.  Maybe a candlem- ... maybe an hour or so."

	"An hour or so....  That's impossible, Agent Scully!  I 
was bleeding when I got here. Bleeding, and there was infection, 
too.  These cuts are almost healed now."

	Oh, God, thought Mulder. Here we go. He tried to smile 
reassuringly, not at all sure of how well he pulled it off. "It's not 
impossible here, sir.  But there's a lot to explain."

	"You bet your ass there is."  Skinner swung his legs off the cot, 
clutching the sides as a wave of dizziness washed over him.  Kyla 
was at his side in a heartbeat, a surprisingly strong arm supporting 
him.  Mulder went to his other side, and together they got him to 
his feet.

	Aldara had stayed in the background as much as possible, 
but now Scully sought her out.  "Is Lita staying with Daanna?" she
asked quietly.

	The warrior nodded.

	"Look, I don't like to ask, but would you mind running over 
and asking Lita if she would set up food and tea - nighttime tea - in 
our chamber, and get a room ready for Skinner near to ours?"

	"Of course.... Dana, he's looking at me strangely.  Do you 
think he remembers me?"

	Scully looked puzzled for a moment, then her expression 
cleared. "Goddess, I doubt it.  Even I had forgotten you'd met him 
before.  He saw you only for a minute or two, in bad light in the 
basement of Headquarters.  And that was months and months ago.  
Besides, there's nothing to connect you to our world.  I don't think 
he'd make the association."  Even as she said it, however, she felt 
some misgivings.  Skinner hadn't gotten to where he was just on 
his looks.  He had been a field agent at one point, and by all 
accounts, an extremely sharp one.

	Aldara looked at her doubtfully, then streaked out into 
the night.  The Professor, Reinald and Jourdain had also tactfully 
withdrawn. Skinner stood weaving drunkenly between Kyla and 
Mulder.

	"It will pass," the Healer said softly.  "Breathe deeply."

	Skinner stared at her blankly, then turned to Mulder. "Do 
you speak her language? What did she say?"

	"She said that the dizziness will pass, and that you should 
take some deep breaths."

	To Mulder's surprise, Skinner did as he was instructed, and 
gradually seemed to get more steady.  "Who is she?"

	"This is Kyla.  She's a... a kind of doctor, sir.  She's the 
reason why your wounds are already healing."

	"Uh... would you please give her my thanks?  And then let's 
get the hell out of here.  You and Scully have a lot of explaining 
to do."

	"Yes, sir." Mulder spoke briefly to Scully and Kyla, carefully 
sticking to the New Realm language.  Then, one arm around Skinner's 
waist for support, he led him from the cottage.

	The fresh cold air seemed to revive the AD somewhat and soon 
he shook off their assistance.  "All right, where are we headed?"

	"Uh, just across here, sir. To the castle."

	There was only a slight hesitation in his step.  "Of course. 
The castle, where else?" he said in a dust-dry tone.

	"Sir, I realize this is going to be a little difficult to 
comprehend, but - "

	"A *little* difficult? Agent Scully, you can't begin to know 
how difficult!"

	"Actually, I think I can, sir.  Left here and up the 
staircase."

	The rest of the journey was completed in silence.  As they 
approached their chamber, two troll servants came out, followed 
by Lita.

	"All set for you, Mage Mulder.  I'm putting your friend in 
Queen Shannon's old room, just across the passageway.  Tilfo, get 
started on the bed - the finest linens, now!  Blafi, you lay the fire 
- a good one, mind, it will be cold in there."  They bustled to do 
her bidding.  "Give us a candlemark to get things settled and the 
chamber will be ready."

	"Thanks, Lita.  Sorry for the inconvenience."

	"No trouble, Warrior Healer Scully.  My, he's a big one!  
Tall as a Rax, he is!  Leave the tea things where they sit when 
you're finished.  I'll be in early to clear up.  I'll lay breakfast in 
your chamber, if that's all right, and bring up his bath water when 
I bring up yours, Mage Mulder."

	His eyes twinkled.  "That will be fine. Thank you, Lita."

	She nodded, her eyes never leaving Skinner until the door 
to his room closed between them.

	"Uh... just in here, sir."

	Mulder pushed open the carved door to their chamber.  
Skinner's eyes swept the room, taking in every detail - the 
whitewashed walls and ceiling, the mammoth dark wood beams, 
the flickering torchlight and the welcoming hearth.  The bondmates 
noticed an additional armchair by the fire.  As usual, Lita had 
thought of everything.

	"Sir, why don't you go down by the fire with Mulder and 
sit? I'll bring you some food - I'm sure you must be starving."

	Skinner appeared startled when she spoke, but absently nodded 
and followed Mulder. Scully cut him several slices of bread and 
scooped a generous portion of the savory stew into a bowl.  Then, 
placing the items on a tray, she added mugs of tea for the three of 
them and brought it to the hearth.  While Skinner ate, she and her 
bondmate sipped their tea in silence, debating in mindspeak about 
how much he could process at one time about the strange reality 
he had entered. 

	Finally Skinner leaned back against the cushions, pushing 
his bowl away from him.  "All right.  Now does one of you want to 
tell me what the fuck is going on?"

	"Yes, sir. What do you want to know?"

	Barely keeping his temper, Skinner gritted out, "For a start, 
let's try where the hell we are."

	 "We're in the Realm, sir."

	"And where the hell is the Realm?"

	Mulder frowned.  "To be honest, sir, I don't know.  As near 
as we can figure it out, it's another dimension - I think.  Scully?  
You were the physics major...."

	"I guess I would call it more a parallel universe, perhaps."

	Skinner's eyes narrowed.  "You're telling me that this place 
doesn't exist anywhere on earth?  Where, then?"

	Scully sighed. "We haven't really ever considered the 
'wheres' of all this, sir.  It exists, and it's a reality we're 
unfamiliar with in our world.  I can't tell you more than that because 
I don't know."

	"Why is it you two seems so damn familiar with this place?  
You dress as they do, you speak the language.  How long has this 
been going on?"

	"Roughly... almost two years. The equivalent of two years 
in our world, at any rate."

	"Agent Mulder, that's ridiculous. In the last two years, I've 
been completely aware of your whereabouts.  Even when you've 
taken off without or against orders, I've been able to find where you 
were eventually.  Shit, I can hardly get you to take a vacation 
because you're always working.  You expect me to believe that 
you can be in two places at once?  Or have you been cloned?" 
he finished acidly.

	Mulder grimaced.  "Not to my knowledge.  I don't know, 
perhaps theoretically I have been in two places at once, I'll have 
to remember to ask Gunther.  No, it can be explained by the fact 
that time moves differently here."  He opened his mouth to continue 
and shut it again as he caught Skinner's frankly disbelieving stare. 
He wriggled uncomfortably in his chair. "Scully, maybe you'd better 
take over."

	"Professor Neumann thinks that time is not a universal 
invariant as is commonly believed, but rather like a river of gel, 
sometimes speeding up, sometimes slowing down, and sometimes 
even flowing backwards.  The first time we were here- "

	"The first time....  How the hell many times have you been 
here?"

	"This is our third trip, sir.  Anyway, the first time, it 
appeared to us that we were here for seven or eight months, but 
when we got back we discovered we had only been gone a couple 
of days.  Our second trip was longer, over a season-cycle - a year, 
sir - but in our world only a week or so had passed.  So time isn't 
constant."

	"Do you honestly expect me to buy any of this, Agent 
Scully?"  He shook his head.  "I'm used to off-the-wall crap from 
your partner.  I could understand it if he believed all this.  What 
stuns me is that *you* seem to."

	Scully leaned forward in her chair and looked at him 
directly.  "Sir, you know me.  Believe me, I had a terrible time 
adjusting to the concepts of this reality.  I thought I was going 
crazy, or had been drugged....  Nothing would have convinced me 
of the reality of the Realm other than pure, hard evidence.  But we 
are here and this *is* real."

	Skinner looked from one agent to the other, obviously upset. He 
sighed and rubbed his face with a slightly shaking hand.  "All right. 
Say - for the moment - I accept that what you've told me is the gospel 
truth.  How did we get here?"

	"The vortex," explained Mulder. "See if this sounds familiar. 
Just before everything went crazy, you felt a wind which increased 
and swirled around you.  There was a smell in the air - sharp, acrid.  
The wind picked up further until you felt like you were standing in 
the center of a tornado.  There was a bright light and a sensation 
like you were falling.  Am I close?"

	Warily, Skinner nodded. "Close enough. You're saying that 
this... thing... transported me here?"

	"Yes, sir.  Somehow it seems to open a portal to this 
reality.  Well, not just this reality, there's others.  One other that 
we know about for sure, but potentially an infinite number more."

	"I suppose you've been to this other reality too," he 
responded sourly.

	"No, sir.  That would have been most inadvisable.  We did, 
however, encounter some of the beings from that reality. Not a nice 
bunch."

	Skinner growled, "Okay - let's cut to the chase here. Scully, 
can we get back?"

	"Of course, sir.  Just not at the moment."

	"And may I ask why not?" he asked with exaggerated patience.

	"Because of the time factor.  Professor Neumann says that 
there's a temporary backwash in the gelflow of time.  It makes the 
calculations necessary to create a vortex extremely difficult, 
assuming you want to arrive back in the same time and place."

	His eyes widened.  "You mean to tell me this vortex was 
created?  It's not some sort of natural anomaly?"

	"No, it was created. Well, theoretically I guess the original 
one was a little of both, but we've learned how to create them. The 
one that brought Mulder and me here was created."

	Mulder added, "The one that brought you here, on the other 
hand, was accidental - a glitch. Believe me, it was never intended to 
bring you here.  Your presence creates certain... complications."

	Skinner sat and considered what he had been told so far.  
"The... people here...." he began.

	Scully smiled.  "..are not all human, no.  Some are, but 
the other major types of beings are elves, trolls and gargoyles.  
They're all intelligent, and have their own highly developed 
languages and cultures. For the most part they co-exist pretty 
peacefully.  I don't know if you've seen a gargoyle yet, but you 
will tomorrow."

	"I'll be waiting with bated breath.... That little woman you 
were talking to outside this room...."
	
	"That's Lita, our servant. She's an elf. Pitir, who brought 
you here, is a troll."

	Skinner shook his head again. 

	"One thing you absolutely must know, sir," Mulder said 
seriously.  "Most of the beings in this place have no idea where we 
come from.  They're very simple, and such knowledge would frighten 
them. The people you saw tonight are fine - they're all aware of our 
origins.  But very few others.  You're going to have to be extremely 
careful not to let anything slip."

	"Seeing as at present I can't communicate with them at all,"
 Skinner replied dryly, "I don't think that will be a problem."

	Mulder nodded.  One of the first things he and Scully had 
debated on their way to the room was whether he should cast a 
language spell for Skinner immediately.  With some irony, they 
arrived at the same conclusion Reinald had so long ago - that it 
was safer for now to limit communication.  To withhold letting 
Skinner communicate openly until he had a little more opportunity 
to come to terms with the strange reality in which he had been 
thrust.  He needed time to absorb what they had told him so far, 
and what they were to tell him later, such as Mulder's Mage 
ability.  "Well, we'll take care of the communication problem 
soon, possibly even tomorrow.  There's a few more things you'll 
need to know first, but I don't want to overwhelm you with too much 
tonight."

	"Too late."  Skinner leaned his head back against the 
softness of the cushions and closed his eyelids.

	"... sir?  Sir?"

	His head snapped up.

	"Sir, you fell asleep.  Look, everything else can wait for 
morning.  Your room should be ready by now.  We'll bring you 
over there so you can get to bed."

	Sighing, he forced himself up from the chair and accepted 
Mulder's offer of an arm to guide him. Crossing the drafty hall, the 
little group entered Skinner's chamber. Scully pulled the bedcurtains 
and covers back on the bed while Mulder rooted around in the 
armoire that was a twin to theirs for some shorts his boss could 
wear to bed.  He pushed them into Skinner's hands.

	"Head?"

	Mulder smiled and pointed to an inconspicuous doorway in 
the near wall.  "It's kind of exotic, but I think you'll get the idea."

	"Agent Scully, thank you. That will be all," he said 
dismissively. 

	"Yes, sir, sleep well.  See you in a few minutes, Mulder."

	Skinner looked quizzically at Scully's retreating form and then 
at her partner.  But if he were on the verge of asking a question, he 
didn't pursue it.  He went into the lavatory and closed the door.

	Minutes later, he emerged clad in shorts and smelling of his 
own unique fragrance accentuated by the washwater.  Asleep on his 
feet, he stumbled as his toes caught in the thick carpeting. Mulder 
half-carried him the rest of the way to the high bed and assisted him 
into it.

	"Sorry... tired all of a sudden....."

	"That's all right, sir.  When you wake up, come on over 
across the hall - Lita will have breakfast set up in there. We'll talk 
more in the morning, and - "  A soft snore cut him off.

	Mulder smiled.  "Welcome to the Realm," he murmured, and 
left to join his bondmate.

End of Chapter Six


Chapter Seven



	I dreamed I was in a cocoon - snug, comfortable, enveloped 
in silky whiteness.  I resisted surfacing into wakefulness, but 
nonetheless found myself yawning and stretching.  When I finally 
opened my eyes, I wondered if I were still dreaming.  White silken 
curtains surrounded me, the light pouring through them like melted 
butter. Then it hit me - where I was, Mulder and Scully's 
extraordinary story of the night before....  Now that my mind was 
clearer, I could start to process what they had said.  A few minutes 
of that and I realized that my mind being clearer didn't help all that 
much.

	I think the thing that disturbed me even more than their 
fantastic claims was the fact that something in me wanted to 
believe them.  As bizarre, as completely antithetical as all this was 
to the person I always thought myself to be, I found myself wanting to 
believe it.  Indeed, a part of me had on some level actually accepted 
all of it - where I was, how I got here...  and accepted it with a 
calmness that was so alien to me, so disconcerting....  The really 
frightening thing was that I was sure it was just the tip of the 
iceberg, that even more preposterous revelations were to come.

	My stomach rumbled, and I vaguely recalled Mulder saying 
something about breakfast in his room.  Bracing myself for what the 
day might bring, I slid out of bed, forgetting how high the damn 
mattress was and promptly twisting my ankle as I hit the floor. 
Muttering a curse, I limped over to the table. Something was lying on 
it that looked like a piece of parchment with some strange figures 
squiggled on it. Probably a note, left by a helpful servant. It would 
have been infinitely more helpful if I had been able to decipher it.  
The fire had long since died out, so the room was chilly.  My nipples 
tightened and gooseflesh stippled my skin. A robe, thick and soft as 
cashmere, had been left over a chair near the note.  I wrapped it 
around me, did what I had to do in what passed for a bathroom here, 
and limped over to Mulder's room across the passageway.

	I knocked and was answered by a muffled 'Just a minute!'.  
Mulder and Scully, trying to make themselves presentable, no 
doubt.  Shit, I had figured out that they were sleeping together, had 
suspected it for a long time.  I appreciated their discretion, at least 
when they were back in the Real World.  Here, I really didn't give a 
crap.  I shifted my bare feet on the icy stones of the floor.  This 
place obviously had yet to be introduced to the concept of slippers.
Killing time, I inspected the carvings on the door to their room, 
evidently something from one of the legends here. Something about 
a man and a woman and monsters.

	Mulder, clad as I was, finally answered the door. "Good 
morning, sir.  Sleep well?"  He pulled the door back to admit me.

	"Extremely well, thanks."  Scully was already seated at the 
big wooden table which was spread with food of all shapes, colors and 
consistencies. Her cheeks were flushed and she was trying so painfully 
hard to be nonchallant that I wondered what I had interrupted.

	"You're limping," Mulder commented.  "Forget how far it was 
to the floor this morning?"

	"Something like that."

	"Come sit down, sir, and I'll explain what all this stuff is,"  
offered Scully.

	I joined them at the table and she and Mulder went over what 
each of the dishes was and what it tasted like.  The elven porridge 
was a happy surprise, the breads were wonderful - better than my 
mother's, although I'd never have had the balls to tell her - and a 
couple of the fruits I decided must be acquired tastes.  I took a sip 
of tea and glanced up to see their eyes on me.  "What?  Have you 
slipped me a mickey or something?" I asked, only half-kidding.

	'Just wait' was the only reply I got.  Suddenly I sensed a 
warm rush and felt like I wanted to find that damned wildcat and 
fight him all over again.  Or chop down a forestful of trees. "Jesus 
Christ, what the hell is this stuff?"

	"Daytime tea," grinned Mulder.  "Great, isn't it?"

	"Should be a control drug.  So I should assume what I had 
last night was nighttime tea, and that it has the opposite effect?  
Because it knocked me on my ass and I slept better than I have in 
years."

	"That's right.  Tea is a way of life here.  Picks you up, 
knocks you down, heals...," Scully said.  "And Realm Etiquette Rule 
Number One - no discussions until tea is served."

	"I'll remember that.  Although presently my ability to hold 
discussions is somewhat limited."  I stared at them pointedly.

	Mulder nodded. "We'll get to that, I promise you.  There's 
more that you need to know first.  So what have you been up to since 
you arrived?  Scully said it looked like you had been attacked."

	"I ran into some trouble a while after I landed."  I guessed 
'landed' was as good a word as any.  "Some kind of wildcat that 
looked like a saber-toothed tiger.  I managed to kill it, although 
I'm still not sure how I did it.  I don't know exactly when it all 
happened. I was pretty disoriented at the time.  The fact that my 
watch seems to have gotten broken didn't help."

	"Don't throw it away yet.  Watches don't work here.  Time 
is... relative, I guess,"  Mulder observed, shrugging.  "And watches 
don't take kindly to trips through the vortex. The beings here aren't 
bothered much about time the way we are.  Their way of measuring 
it is, to us, perhaps primitive, but it doesn't appear to hamper 
them.  Things still get done.  In fact, it makes things more 
relaxing."

	"Once you get used to it, maybe," I countered.

	"Yeah, it takes some getting used to," agreed Scully. "But 
is it any different than if you were at your cabin?"

	She had a point.  Things up there were done when they had 
to be, or when I felt like doing them, not when some timepiece 
dictated it.  "Good point. I guess not, Agent Scully."

	"Uh... okay. That's another thing. As far as beings in this 
place are concerned, 'Agent' has no meaning. Since titles are 
extremely important here, it might confuse or upset the beings to hear 
that one used.  The etiquette is quite precise and rigidly adhered to. 
So for now, just drop the 'Agent'."

	"You have other titles, then?"  I watched as their eyes 
connected and they were silent for maybe thirty seconds.  If I didn't 
know better, I would have sworn they were communicating through 
the stares levelled at one another.

	"Yes, we do have titles, but we'll get into that a bit later," 
Scully said finally.  "But we can't keep calling you 'sir', either. It 
would attract attention.  What do you want us to call you?"

	I shrugged.  "Skinner, Walter....  It doesn't matter."

	Mulder's eyes were lit with mischief.  "How about Sergei?"

	Sergei. My despised middle name. Shit, Walter was bad 
enough, but with a middle name like Sergei, my parents had left me 
with no alternative.  In the schoolyard I had heard "Sir Gay, Sir Gay" 
until I had fought every kid unwise enough to use it.  That name 
alone had prompted an especially thorough background check when 
I applied to the Bureau.  How the fuck had Mulder found out my 
middle name was Sergei?  I smiled at him coldly.  "I don't think so 
- Fox."

	His grin was relaxed and good-humored.  "So I guess that 
means Wally is out, too?"

	"You know, Mulder, we're going to be leaving here eventually 
and going back to the Real World, and you'll still be under my 
command.  Unless you want to spend the rest of your working life 
on wiretap detail - "

	"Point taken - Walter."

	I nodded curtly as my mind set up all sorts of scenarios, 
each one more terrifying than the last, of dealing with Mulder after 
all this was over.  He was difficult before.  Once we got back....  
I really didn't want to think about it.  "All right, now how are we 
going to handle this communication thing?  Because I'm not too happy 
about being left in the dark."

	"There is a way... " Mulder admitted slowly.  "But you need 
to understand how important it is that, outside of a few beings we'll 
tell you about, you don't do or say anything that will blow your 
cover."

	"Which is?"

	He shrugged.  "Very nearly the truth.  That you come from a 
faraway land, with different language, dress, customs.  But nothing 
about the vortex, or alternate realities or anything like that."

	"I think I can manage that,"  I said dryly.  "I have worked 
undercover in my time, you know."

	"We knew that... Walter," Scully replied, using my first 
name hesistantly.

	I wondered how much they knew about me.  The tables had 
been turned.  I thought I had the advantage of knowing more about 
the agents under my command than they did me.  The evidence was 
mounting that I had been living in a fool's paradise. "Okay, so how 
am I going to communicate with these people?"

	"Beings,"  Mulder corrected.  "Humans are people, but the 
others are beings, and could take offence at being called people.  
Nobody seems to object to 'beings'."  He sighed, and looked me 
straight in the eyes.  "The fastest and easiest way to compensate for 
your not knowing the language is unique to this place.  A language 
spell can be cast so that you can understand what is said or written 
and others can understand you."

	I was silent for a couple of beats and then smiled, thinking I 
had misunderstood.  "Sorry.  I thought you said that someone was 
going to cast a spell on me."

	"Yes, that's right."

	In seconds, the acid in my stomach was being cranked out 
double-time and my head was pounding like someone was using a 
jackhammer on it.  "You know, Agent Mulder, I think so far I've taken 
all this pretty fucking well, under the circumstances.  But there's a 
limit, and I think you just stepped over it!"

	"Sir, we knew you'd feel this way," said Scully soothingly.  
"That's why we didn't tell you last night.  This is one of the things 
I had the hardest time coming to terms with, and I knew you would 
as well.  But the fact of the matter is, magic exists here.  Magic, 
and other powers that are either unknown in our world, or 
acknowledged by only a tiny minority."

	"The lunatic fringe, no doubt.  Mulder's buddies."

	"And you might as well hear this now, sir, because it only 
gets worse.  You know those titles we were talking about?  They're 
determined by occupation.  And your occupation is determined by 
the color and quality of your aura."

	"What the hell is this?  Some sort of a New Age Club Med?" 
I stood up.  "All right, I  think I've heard just about enough."

	"With all due respect, sir, not yet, you haven't," she said 
firmly.  "Sit down, because your being here depends on your being 
able to accept this."
	
	My brows shot up in shock. I had always realized Scully was 
a formidable agent and an extremely strong person, but now she was 
reading *me* the riot act as if she had been doing it all her life.  
I sat down in stunned silence.

	In a gentler tone she continued. "You're going to see things 
here that your mind is going to tell you can't be happening.  The 
only advice I can give you is to just accept it all.  Don't question 
it, don't try to think of it in terms of our world, because the same 
rules just don't apply.  If you can't accept it, not only is your 
sanity at risk, but you present a very real danger to this place."

	She stopped, I guess to let me process what she had said.  
I tried to put my brain on hold and find that part of me that had 
been so calm earlier. I don't know if I found it or it found me, but I 
grabbed onto it like a drunk grips a whiskey bottle.  I felt my racing 
pulse slow and the pounding in my head diminish as I concentrated 
on that serenity, holding it, almost caressing it.  I can't say how 
long I was in that state, but when I opened my eyes, Mulder and 
Scully were looking from me and back to one another in that weird 
way they sometimes do that makes me think something's going on 
between them.

	"Sir, are you all right?"
	
	I look a breath and let it out shakily.  "For the moment.  I 
think you were speaking about auras."

	Scully's glance at Mulder was puzzled, but she continued.  
"Yes, sir....  Now, our first trip to the Realm....  She hesitated and 
looked to her partner for help.	

	"We were identified by our auras, sir. Through another being.  
Our auras are distinctive enough that apparently it was noticed that 
they fit an old prophecy.  We were brought through to the Realm 
because it was thought, on the basis of our auras, that we could 
help them clear up a problem they were having at the time."

	It struck me that quite a lot of editing was being done on 
what he said, but I didn't take issue for the moment.  "I'm at the 
edge of my seat, Mulder,"  I said with gentle sarcasm.  "Bottom line?  
I'm assuming you're going to tell me something incredible about these 
auras of yours...."

	He nodded slowly.  "Scully's aura - well, it's not that much 
different than what you'd expect.  Her aura is bright green, which 
in this world indicates a warrior, but it's edged with the Healer's 
brown.  As I said, not really much different than her being an MD 
in the FBI, although in this world, that particular combination is 
unique."

	I looked at Scully and nodded.  "Okay," I said carefully.  
"That much makes sense, I guess."  I turned back to Mulder.  "But 
why is it I get the feeling I'm not going to like what you say next?"

	"ESP?" he joked weakly.

	I just stared at him and he became deadly serious.  There 
was something else too, something more difficult to put my finger 
on. Something in his attitude, in the way he held himself - an air 
of authority, of position, of wearing the mantle of the kind of 
responsibility that comes with exalted status.

	"In this world, I am Mage," he said simply.

	I blinked at the unfamiliar word.  "Mage - like in magic?"

	He nodded.

	"Not only a Mage," added Scully with a hint of pride, "but 
one of the most powerful Mages this world has ever known."

	I went diving back into myself to look for that serenity 
again, clutching onto it like Linus and his security blanket.  Again, 
I don't know how long I was in there, but at least I wasn't 
hyperventilating any longer when my conscious self rejoined Mulder 
and Scully.

	"I know this is hard, sir," Scully said kindly, patting my 
arm.

	Absently, I nodded.  Oh yeah.  You could say that.

	"Perhaps a little demonstration?"  Mulder suggested.  He 
rose from the table and began walking slowly to the end of the room. 
I heard a crackling noise, like the sparks from one of those Van der 
Graaf generators.  "Wanna shoot some hoops?" he asked 
conversationally.

	He turned around suddenly.  In his hand was a basketball-
sized sphere of blue flame.  He closed his eyes for a second and the 
sphere started spinning.

	Without being conscious of it, I slowly got to my feet, my 
eyes fixed on the fireball, now balanced adroitly on the tip of 
Mulder's extended index finger.  Serenity, don't fail me now, I 
thought.

	"Sir, you're looking rather pale.  Here, you'd better sit 
down."  Scully guided me into my chair.  "I ask permission to enter 
your mind as a Healer, sir.  I'd like to help you with what you're 
feeling right now."

	I guess I must have nodded, because all at once, she was 
just - there.  In me.  It was the oddest sensation.  A feeling of 
coolness, of calm. A scent, like autumn - crisp, clean, a touch of 
flowers and ripe apples... wonderful.  My muscles relaxing gradually, 
starting at my neck and working down, like I was having the best 
massage of my life.  Even the throbbing in my ankle was fading, 
going, going... gone....  Some indeterminate amount of time later, 
I sensed her very gently disengaging herself, and I was on my own, 
just... being.  I hadn't felt this good, this relaxed, this peaceful 
since my near-death experience in Nam.  I wanted it to go on 
forever.

	Slowly I opened my eyes, glad to find in doing so that the 
feeling remained.  Their eyes were on me, looking concerned, anxious.  
The fireball was gone.  No one said anything for quite some time.

	"I- I'm...." Suddenly my throat tightened and tears came to 
my eyes.  Shit, where was this coming from? I closed them again 
quickly, but not quickly enough to prevent a solitary drop from 
trickling down my face.  A hand - Mulder's, I think - gently wiped 
it away.  "This is.. a little... overwhelming.  Just... give me a 
minute."  I heard the sound of chairs scraping on the stone floor 
and moments later the click of the door closing as they gave me 
some space.

	It was almost funny.  Sharon used to bitch at me for being 
too tightly wrapped.  Well, if she could only see me now - the 
wrappings were coming off with a vengeance.  Alone now, I made 
no effort to try to stop the tears that had been welling up since... 
I don't know, childhood, maybe.  And the weirdest thing was, that 
even as I sat, my head cradled in my arms and the sobs tearing 
from my throat, I knew that they weren't tears of pain.  It was 
deeper than that, more elemental.  It wasn't about pain at all.  It 
was about letting go.  It was about gratitude, and yearning.  It was 
about something bigger than the individual; it was about connection, 
and oneness, and trust.

	Gradually the tears stopped.  I looked around for some 
tissues, which of course didn't exist in the Realm, so I used a napkin 
to make myself presentable.  I know I should have been embarrassed -  
shit, the old me would have been mortified.  But oddly enough, there 
was something... something in me....  Christ, it's so hard to put it 
into words.  It was like all the calm, all the serenity had come to 
the forefront, having fought their way up through years of repression 
and isolation to finally take pre-eminence.

	Either that, or I was certifiably nuts.

	Go with it, Walter.  If it feels good, do it.

	I was calm and back together when Mulder and Scully 
returned to the room.  Before I could open my mouth to apologize - 
I  thought they may have been embarrassed by my little display - 
Scully murmured, "It's all right, Walter.  It can hit you like that.  I 
know it did me - like a ton of bricks. If it hadn't been for Mulder, I 
swear I would have gone crazy.  Are you all right now, sir?"

	Still avoiding looking at them, I smiled, a little self-
conscious. "Actually, I don't think I've ever felt better. Thanks." 
I didn't say what for.  I didn't think that I could say it, not in 
words, anyway.  Nor did I think I needed to.

	Mulder nodded. "It's a lot to deal with. I've always been 
open-minded, ready to believe in extreme possibilities.  Sometimes 
too much so.  It didn't hit me so hard.  But even I had my moments, 
believe it or not.  All right. Ready to go on?"

	There was a wealth of meaning in those four simple words.  
What he was really asking was, was I ready to believe everything 
else this world had in store?  Could I manage to accept all the 
mysteries around me, and not lose my mind in the process?  Was I 
willing to trust that much?  I nodded and finally met his eyes.  I 
squinted, then blinked rapidly, wondering what the hell was wrong.

	"Walter? What's the matter?"

	"Sorry, it's my eyes.  My glasses got broken, but I can 
see a lot better than I expected to be able to.  At least I thought so, 
but....  You look a little... blue... all around you."

	His worried look cleared and he chuckled. "Evidently you're 
sensitive to auras.  Think of what fun you'll be at parties now! Yes, 
my aura is blue, and that's what you're seeing.  Not everyone can 
see them, even here.  Go on, look at Scully - can you see hers?"

	I turned and squinted at her.  "Yeah - well, the green part 
anyway.  The brown's not too clear."

	"This is great!" he said gleefully.  "That should help you 
accept the whole idea little easier.  It's got to be easier to accept 
the evidence of your own eyes.  We'll tell you what the colors 
represent.  That'll help you to avoid social gaffes, although you 
wouldn't be expected to be a true adept at it.  Humans rarely are."

	"And the adepts would be...?"

	"Elves, mostly," replied Scully.

	I shook my head wonderingly.  "Elves...."

	"Ready for your crash course in New Realm?" asked Mulder.  
Although his tone was light and bantering, I could see the care and 
concern in his expression. His anxiety that all this wouldn't send me 
to the local equivalent of the looney bin.  It was a side to Mulder that 
I had always thought was reserved for a very select few....  Surely 
Scully, maybe his mother.  Seeing it there for me touched me deeply.  
I had never given either of them that much reason to like me.  Hell, I 
was their boss, not their buddy.  To keep them in line even to the 
limited extent I was able to meant that I had to try to keep my 
personal feelings to a minimum. And I had certainly, for one reason 
or another, had to make decisions that were unpopular with them, 
to say the least.  To find myself admitted to their inner circle left 
me unaccountably shaken and grateful.

	Then it struck me suddenly the trust that they were both 
showing in me, gifting me with the power of speech in this strange 
place they so obviously loved.  I, whom they had no particular 
reason to trust, who had the power to possibly destroy this world 
and their positions in it.  My God, they were handing me the keys 
to the Kingdom.  My eyes began to burn again, but this time I forced 
the tears back and cleared my throat.  "I... I think so, yes.  What 
do I have to do?"

	"Nothing.  Just sit there. I'll do the work."  He brought 
over a thick old book and set it on the table.  He thumbed through 
it, settling on a page filled with tiny squiggles and beautiful 
illuminations. Stepping back from the table a bit, he closed his 
eyes for a moment, then opened them and began chanting in some 
strange language - different, I thought, from what I had heard thus 
far.  His eyes on the book, his arms raised in supplication, he looked 
for all the world like a priest saying Mass.  Except for the sparks 
dancing over his head, that is.  At first glance it all appeared 
effortless, but by the slight tremors of his hands and the fierce look 
of concentration on his face, I knew it wasn't.  After several 
minutes, the chant wound to a close and tiredly, he dropped his 
arms.

	"I'm a bit out of practice," he admitted.

	I had already assumed as much.  "Mulder, I hate to break it 
to you, but nothing happened."

	He just smiled.  

	There was a quick knock and Lita appeared in the room.  
"Finished with your spell now, Mage Mulder?  Ach, but it gives me a 
headache!"

	"Sorry, Lita.  I guess it's about time for introductions.  Lita, 
this is Walter.  Or you may call him Skinner, take your pick.  Walter 
is from my world, so keep it quiet, okay?"

	She nodded.  "Can he- "

	"Yes, I just finished casting the language spell."

	It beat me how the elf had learned English, but I wasn't 
going to ask.  At least Mulder's conversation with her had put me 
at ease, knowing that I wouldn't have to bluff my way around my 
origins with the first person - er, being - that I had officially met.  
"I'm pleased to meet you,  Lita.  Your English is excellent."

	She peered at me as if I were nuts and Scully chuckled. 
"You're speaking New Realm, Walter.  So is she and so am I, at the 
moment."

	"But - but it sounds like everyone's speaking English!"

	"Oh, some people do here," interjected her partner. "Gunther, 
the king and queen. All of whom are on the approved list, by the way.  
But you're experiencing the language spell."

	Jesus, Berlitz would kill to have this. All he would need is 
a magic Mulder.  God, what was I saying?  "Very effective," I said 
shakily.

	"Well, you'll find that idiomatic expressions in either 
language don't translate very well - if at all.  But we'll help you if 
you get stuck."

	"Is that how you're able to speak it - a language spell?"

	"No, Scully and I eventually got pissed off at the things it 
didn't translate, and as we've spent considerable time here, we 
were able to learn the language the old-fashioned away."

	All business, Lita cut in.  "Mage Mulder, I've brought up 
your water and Tilfo will see to preparing your bath.  My duties are 
with Warrior Priest Skinner this morning."

	There was dead silence in the room.

	She looked up at Mulder, astonished.  "Surely you saw it, 
Mage!  His aura - golden, with a wide border of green.  But I can 
understand that you might not believe your eyes.  This is amazing, 
absolutely unique! Reinald and the king will have to know of this."

	Mulder nodded, gazing at me with fascination. "It just 
didn't register before, but now that you've pointed it out, it's 
unmistakeable.  Well, Walter, it looks like you have your title now.  
Lita's an adept.  She's never wrong about auras."

	A smug smile on her gamine face, the little elf sniffed 
appreciatively.

	Speaking personally, I was less impressed.  Warrior Priest?  
I mean, the Warrior part made sense - I had been a soldier and now 
had a career in law enforcement.  But priest?  Shit, except for the 
funerals of fallen agents, I hadn't been inside a church in, what - a 
good ten years.  And the last time I checked in, Presbyterians 
didn't have priests.  Maybe Lita was having an off day.

	"Warrior Priest Skinner, your bath water is ready.  If you 
would please follow me...."

	Mulder glanced at his partner, and there was mischief in his 
eyes again.  For some reason, he seemed to be having a hard time 
keeping a straight face.  "You'd better go with her, Walter. Around 
here, we all take our orders from her."

	I nodded warily. "I'll be back when I'm dressed. And thank 
you, for...."  I trailed off.

	"No need for thanks, Walter," Scully said soberly.  One look 
at Mulder, however, and she was having the same problem as he was.  
She did everything but clap her hand over her mouth like a 
kindergartner to keep from laughing.

	I nodded again and followed Lita out the door. It hadn't quite 
closed behind us when the two agents erupted into laughter.  Okay... 
forewarned was forearmed.

	Once in my room, Lita indicated the large copper tub near 
the now-roaring fire.  "One of my duties is to assist you to bathe," 
she said resolutely, her arms crossed in front of her. Evidently she 
was expecting an argument.  Suddenly, Mulder's amusement made 
sense.  He knew what was going to happen. From his reaction and 
Lita's, he had evidently found the concept of assisted bathing 
uncomfortable.  Across the hall, they were probably waiting for the 
yelling to start at any time.  I chuckled to myself. Two could play 
at that game.  While I was in Japan on R&R  from Nam, I had had 
the same reaction myself.  Shit, what did I know, I was just a kid.  
But it hadn't taken me long to get to like the idea - like it a lot, 
as a matter of fact.

	Lita was watching me, ready for the same reaction Mulder 
was, I guess, though with considerably less amusement.  Smiling 
brightly at her, I shrugged off my robe and slid my shorts down over 
my hips, kicking them away.  "Well, let's get started then!"

	She looked relieved.


End of Chapter Seven


Chapter Eight

	Lita beamed approvingly from the doorway as I knocked once 
again on the carved door to Mulder and Scully's chamber.  She might 
have been happy, but I felt like a damned idiot, dressed up for some 
bad Little Theater production of "The Three Musketeers".  Thank God 
they didn't seem to sport large plumed hats here.  I wore a loose 
white shirt, belted at the waist, with voluminous sleeves - the kind I 
usually associated with some of the wimpier Romantic poets -  forest 
green suede breeches tight enough to be embarrassing, and high 
black leather boots.  As if all that weren't enough, Lita had insisted 
on fastening a lightweight wool cloak in white at my throat, even 
standing on the table to accomplish the task.  She kept apologizing 
that she hadn't had time to edge it in green.  Like I cared.

	Scully swung back the door, her eyes widening as she saw me.
"Walter, you look magnificent!"

	"Damn fool get-up," I growled back sourly.

	Mulder grinned.  He was just fastening his own cloak, a 
floor-length affair in deep blue.  I had been too out of it the night 
before to take much notice of what they were wearing, other than 
that it was strange, unexpected.  But somehow, the outfit really 
suited him very well.  I turned back to Scully, surprised that she 
too was wearing a shirt over tight leather pants.  I guess I just 
always associated her with those little tailored suits she seemed to 
favor at the Bureau.  In her Realm clothes, she managed to look both 
extremely feminine and very dangerous, with a sharp little dirk 
tucked into her belt and a lethal-looking sword slung down her back.

	"Are you ready?" inquired Mulder.

	"I guess I'd better play it safe and ask 'Ready for what?' "

	"Ready to meet the Realm.  You can't hide in here forever," 
he explained reasonably. "Besides, what Lita said was true.  You'll 
have to meet with Reinald and King Andalor. Since it's still pretty 
early, we'll go see Reinald first."  He held the door open for Scully 
and me, and we started up the passageway.

	"And who is Reinald, may I ask?"

	"You may.  Reinald is the Royal Mage.  A rather intimidating 
sort, until you get to know him.  He was my mentor when we first 
arrived here.  Taught me how to control and use my gifts."  Mulder 
must have noted my doubtful expression.  "He's an honorable man, 
Walter.  A bit on the conservative and rigid side, but I think you'll 
like him. You have a lot in common."

	I slid a glance over towards him, to see if he was being his 
usual smart-ass self, but his expression was bland.

	"I think just about anyone we meet in Reinald's quarters 
will probably be fully aware of our... peculiarities,"  he continued.  
"All except Lishla, his new apprentice.  But better keep an eye on 
Scully and me.  We'll give you the high sign if you need to be 
discreet."

	I nodded, turning when they did in the labyrinthine, tapestry-
hung hallways.  At length we came to an imposing door.  Mulder's 
rap was answered in moments. The door swung open to reveal - Jesus! - 
some sort of creature. Small and gray, with big ears, a flat nose 
and the goddamnedest set of sharp pointed teeth I had ever seen 
in anything walking upright.

	"Tarnor!" Scully exclaimed excitedly.

	As Mulder and Scully indulged in an orgy of embraces with 
the thing, I had time to collect my wits.  This must be the gargoyle 
they had spoken of.  They might have given me a little more warning 
about his appearance....

	"Tarnor, this is a friend."  Mulder ducked his head inside 
the chamber and must have found the coast clear.  "This is Walter 
Skinner, our boss in our world.  He's here by accident. Walter, 
Tarnor is a Mage - and a fairly decent attorney as well."

	The creature looked at me appraisingly.  I would have been 
more nervous, but my mind had seized on something.  After Lita's 
incessant babble during my bath, I was finding that I could discern 
the difference between English and New Realm, mostly by its... I 
don't know, maybe 'flavor' comes closest. Now when Mulder said 
'boss', he said it in English, yet the creature seemed to understand. 
But why should it have understood English?  What the hell was going 
on? The answer was not long in coming....

	"Hoow doo yiooo doo?" it - he - said, still baring his teeth 
in what I assumed was supposed to be a smile.  God, the thing *did* 
speak English. But how the hell -

	Scully sidled up to me. "Walter, you're staring!" she whispered.

	I snapped out of it, not without a certain amount of difficulty.  
"Uh... I'm pleased to meet you, Mage Tarnor."

	He nodded happily and stood aside to let us enter. The 
chamber was enormous, but heavy draperies at the tall windows in 
the opposite wall blocked much of the light, making it difficult to 
see details.  As I strolled around, the clutter was more apparent, 
with all manner of scrolls and books and bottles and jars and animal- 
skin bags of God-knew-what scattered around. From under the door 
at the end of the room to my right an eerie blue light flickered.

	"Reinald is just finishing up a lesson with his apprentice," 
Tarnor explained.  For some reason it was comforting to hear him 
speaking in New Realm.  He scurried to the hearth to start making 
tea.  Mulder and Scully made small talk with him while I walked 
around the room, examining the strange objects.  I noted that the 
books were written in some language even now undecipherable....

	"That's Old Realm," said a voice in my ear.  I looked over to 
see Mulder lurking protectively by my side.  Scully was still chatting 
away with the gargoyle, looking more animated than I had ever seen 
her in our world.  Jesus, what had I gotten myself into - a gargoyle, 
for Christ's sake....  "You can't read it because Old Realm is very 
different from New Realm. Fortunately it isn't used much - just for 
rituals, ceremonies... and of course, magic spells."

	I nodded as if everything were quite mundane.  I found myself 
drawn to a round table in the center of the chamber.  In the middle 
of the table was something bulky, shrouded in a blue cloth.  My 
fingers itched to removed it, to see what was underneath.  But I 
hesitated, partly because I was afraid of breaking some wizard's 
taboo, and partly because I thought there might be something under 
there I would regret knowing about - the severed head of the last poor
bastard to find himself here accidentally perhaps....

	Mulder smiled, his long fingers reaching out to remove the 
cloth.

	Frankly, I was disappointed.  "A crystal ball?  Isn't that a bit... 
trite?"

	He chuckled.  "It's called the Oracle Cloud.  Believe me, 
AT&T would pay a fortune to get ahold of it.  It's how we stay in 
touch."

	"You - you mean people here can communicate with you 
through that? In the Real World?"

	"How else would we make our travel plans?" he replied simply.  
He covered the object and led me, stunned, back to the hearth where 
Tarnor was pouring tea.  We sat down in the chairs that ringed the 
fire.

	"I am very glad to finally meet you, Walter... I may call you 
Walter?" he asked earnestly.  I nodded and he chattered on.  I'll give 
the little guy one thing - he wasn't much in the looks department, but 
he was extremely charming and intelligent.  And even I could see his 
blue aura without having to concentrate very much.  Christ, was 
everyone a Mage in this damned place?

	  "Yes, the Professor has taught me a little English," the 
gargoyle was saying.  "You never know when it might be necessary."  
If I hadn't glanced up at that moment, I would have missed the wink he 
gave Scully.  A wink, by their reaction, I wasn't meant to see.

	"I wouldn't have thought you would get all that many English-
speaking visitors here," I replied evenly.

	A dark gray flush stained his cheeks.  "No... no, of course.  But 
still, you never know...."

	A knock interrupted him and, relieved to put my follow-up 
questions at bay, he called out "Come!"

	Through the door entered a remarkably normal-looking elderly 
man.  Already I was becoming so accustomed to everything being 
weird that the normal stood out in sharp contrast.

	"Ah, Mulder, Scully!  I'm anxious to meet your friend."

	Mulder stood to make the introductions.  "Professor Gunther 
Neumann, this is Walter Skinner."

	I shook hands with him, his grasp firm in spite of the gnarled 
joints of age.  "Pleased to meet you, Professor Neumann."  My eyes 
narrowed as something niggled in my memory.  "Sorry, your name seems 
familiar for some reason, Professor.  Should I have heard it before?"

	He looked a little nervously at Mulder and Scully, before 
assuming an air of nonchallance. "I really shouldn't think so."  
English again.

	"Tea, Professor?"

	"Please, Tarnor.  Well, Walter, how are you finding the 
Realm?"

	"A little unnerving," I admitted, trying to avoid looking at 
the gargoyle.  "Obviously you speak English.  How is that?"

	"Well, German is my nat- "  He stopped short, shrugged at 
Mulder and Scully and sighed.  "I come from your world, Walter."

	Mulder and Scully were staring at each other again, their 
expressions mobile, but no words were exchanged - none that I could 
hear, anyway.  I felt like I had suddenly gone deaf, although with the 
shocks I had had in the past few days, I don't know that a case of 
hysterical deafness wasn't in order.  They seemed to come to some 
sort of decision - Mulder gazing questioningly at her and a quick 
nod by Scully - then she cleared her throat.

	"Gunther is from our world, Walter.  He came here after our 
return from our first journey to the Realm.  I guess you could say we 
inspired it.... "

	Lightly, Tarnor protested, "Well, if anyone was the 
inspiration, I feel I would have to cla- " He trailed off and clamped 
his lips tight.

	My head snapped so quickly in the gargoyle's direction I 
could have gotten whiplash.

	He looked a little desperately to Mulder, who shrugged.  "Oh, 
Goddess! ...Well, you'll have to know sometime, I suppose,"  Tarnor 
sighed.  "Well, you see, I guess I started it all. I dived through the 
Vortex to escape those horrible creatures and before I knew it, I 
ended up in the Professor's lab, and then Mulder and Scully came, 
and I saw their auras and just *knew* that Reinald needed to know 
about them, and then -"

	"Wait a minute," I commanded, my head spinning.  "You're 
saying you've been to the Real Wo-, I mean, my world?  You're the 
being that brought Mulder and Scully here?  How the hell - ?"

	"It's a long story, Walter,"  Scully sighed.  "We were going 
to get around to telling you, but - "

	"I know - you didn't want to overwhelm me," I replied dryly.

	Mulder looked as if he were about to launch into a long 
explanation, but the door to the other room opened.  Their deep blue 
auras preceded the two figures who came out - one a tall, regal-
looking older man with flowing white hair, the other a tiny female 
elf.

	"That was excellent, Lishla.  You're making good progress."  
His head turned in our direction, then he focused his attention back 
on his apprentice.  "You've earned a break.  Your head is undoubtedly 
pounding after all that concentration.  Take a few candlemarks to 
rest.  Be back after the midday meal and we'll try it again."

	Saucer-eyed, Lishla was scarcely listening to her mentor.  
"Goddess!  A Warrior Priest?" she blurted.  "But that's impossible!"

	"Evidently not," the Mage said mildly.  "Run along now, 
Lishla."

	She bowed to her mentor and puzzled, left the room.

	I found myself standing at his approach.  The Royal Mage had 
real presence, a man clearly accustomed to inspiring respect, even 
awe.  Mulder came to his feet once more for the introductions.

	Reinald surveyed me coolly.  "I'm happy to meet you, Warrior 
Priest Skinner.  Mulder and Scully have told us much about you.  
Please, have a seat.  There are matters of which we must speak."  
He sat in an ornately carved chair that had been conspicuously empty 
and accepted a steaming mug from Tarnor, while I tried not to think 
what my agents might have told him about me.

	His gaze was nothing if not direct. "You are coming to terms 
with being in the Realm?"

	"I'm... getting there," I replied cautiously.

	"Gunther and I offer our sincerest apologies." The Professor 
nodded vigorously in agreement.  "What brought you here was in no 
way intended, I assure you."

	"I realize that, Royal Mage Reinald. No apology is 
necessary."

	"Most gracious of you. Still, your being here presents a 
problem for us - two, actually," he began bluntly.  "The first is our 
feeling of responsibility for your reaction to all this.  I know that 
your world is quite different, and I remember only too well the 
difficulties that Mulder and Scully had coping with their discoveries 
here.  I would imagine it is no less true for you.  But selfishly, my 
primary concern must be for the Realm and its beings.  We must 
have your word that your knowledge of the existence of this place 
will go no further - no matter what pressures may be brought to 
bear in your world."

	My eyes met his implacable stare unwaveringly.  "Other than 
the existence of the vortex, I have seen nothing which would require 
me to divulge anything of your world," I responded, choosing my 
words carefully.  "But the vortex and the possibilities for its use do 
present a problem." I leaned forward.  "Understand, Mage Reinald, 
I have no wish for harm to come to this place or its pe- ...beings.  
But I have taken an oath, a vow I believe in, that I hold in trust 
with my life.  If I think harm could come to my world, to my nation, 
I have a duty to prevent it from happening."

	"Walter - "  Mulder began uncomfortably.

	"Stay," Reinald ordered his protege mildly with a wave of his 
hand. He turned back to me, looking less at me than around me.  
After several moments of silence, he nodded sagely. "Your aura is 
strong and pure, Walter."  He chuckled a little and explained, "If I 
can see it, it must be.  We will speak of this again, when it comes 
time for you to leave us. But for now I draw comfort from what I see.  
You are a man of honor, and great courage. But I see also a growing 
empathy in you."  He nodded again.  "We will speak of this later, 
when you have spent more time with us and know us better.  I am sure 
that when the time comes, you will make the right decision."

	There was an awkward silence, curtailed by another knock 
on the door and the entry of a tall, blue-cloaked man with an aura 
as powerful as Mulder's. Shit, now I was becoming an aura expert....

	"Hannu!"  Scully and Mulder were on their feet to greet the 
newcomer to our burgeoning group.  After an excited exchange, 
they introduced me.

	He was a formidable figure, built a lot like me, though 
apparently somewhat older.  There was... there was a lingering touch 
of tragedy that clung to him like a cobweb.  I could feel it the moment 
I grasped his hand.  But his greeting was pleasant enough and his eyes 
sparkled with good humor.  

	"Puleezed too meet yioo," he said.

	Oh God.  Another one?  "You've been to my world too?"  I 
choked out.

	He nodded, becoming grave.  "I spent quite a lot of time 
there.  In spite of the strangeness, in many ways it was the best 
time in my life."

	I swung around to Mulder. "I suppose this was something else 
you were going - "

	"We *were* going to tell you, Walter, honest."

	"We'll talk later, Mulder," I said in my best ass-chewing 
voice.  "Count on it."

	To my surprise, Hannu laughed  "I don't think I've ever seen 
him looking that intimidated, Walter.  Not even in the lovely, evil 
face of the Dar- "

	"Later," Mulder assured me, cutting him off.

	I could hardly wait.

	"Actually, I thought I'd find the three of you here," Mage 
Hannu continued.  "I bring greetings from Queen Shannon, who is 
quite anxious to meet Warrior Priest Skinner."

	"How's she doing this morning?" inquired Scully.

	He shrugged.  "She seems fine. Andalor becomes more worried 
as the candlemarks pass, but my daughter is calm and says she feels 
well.  I admit to being relieved you are here, however, Scully."

	She smiled reassuredly.  "She'll do well, Hannu, I promise.  
Well, Mulder, want to go see your halla?"

	The word didn't translate.  I waited until we had bid them 
goodbye and were on our way to the Royal Suite to ask.  Mulder 
practically galloped ahead of us, leaving Scully to define the term.

	As we walked in his wake, I listened to her explanation of 
the taabsut-halla relationship. "So how does Mulder come to have 
this relationship to the Queen, of all people?"
	
	There was a little hesitation before she answered.  "She 
wasn't always the Queen.  Shannon was an orphan whom he took 
under his wing. You'll see that she bears a striking resemblance to 
his sister Samantha, so I suppose it was only natural.  We just 
thought we'd take advantage of Mulder's status here to offer some 
protection to her."

	Wait a minute. Mulder's status? Orphan? I frowned. "But Hannu 
referred to her as his daughter."  

	"Well, we didn't know that at the time.  Neither did he. And 
neither did she, for that matter."  Frustratingly, the conversation 
ended as we caught up to Mulder and the door we stood before 
swung open to admit us.

	The Royal Suite was about the same size and layout as 
Reinald's quarters, but that's where the similarity ended.  This room 
was bright, airy, and orderly, with gorgeous tapestries covering the 
walls and thick carpets on the stone floor.  A blond kid of no more 
than twenty or so and a very pregnant girl about the same age sat by 
the fire.

	Scully did the honors this time. 

	"I'm delighted to meet you, Your Majesties."  I stood 
awkwardly, wondering if I were expected to bow or something.

	Andalor gave me a firm handshake.  In barely accented 
English, he replied "Welcome to the Realm. And we're all just friends 
here.  When we're not in public, call me Andalor, and you can cool it 
with the 'Your Majesty' stuff."  He grinned.	

	Sharply I looked at Mulder.  Smiling, he nodded and I rolled 
my eyes.  Clearly, the INS had a bigger problem with illegal 
immigration than it could possibly imagine. Was there anyone in this 
world who *hadn't* been to mine?  I turned my attention to the lovely 
girl.  Scully was right.  I had seen photographs of the young 
Samantha.  If the poor kid had ever had the opportunity to grow up, 
she would have been a dead ringer for the girl before me.

	"Queen Shannon, this is a pleasure."

	She smiled prettily.  "It's just Shannon.  Have a seat, 
Walter. Dorbo has tea ready."

	Tea again. Good as the stuff was, my body was beginning to 
crave coffee.  "Great!" I said as enthusiastically as possible, and 
took a chair.

	Mulder was crouched next to the girl, holding her hand, his 
eyes anxious.  "Feeling okay?" he asked softly.

	"Let's put it this way, Mulder - I'm not making any travel 
plans and I don't think you should either.  I think I'm close.  I 
feel... different."

	I felt a burst of something very much like panic emanate 
from him, gone - or rigidly controlled - a heartbeat later.  Then I 
wondered what made me think that. How could I know what Mulder felt?

	"We'll be here, baby," he assured her.

	I was now seeing another side to Mulder - the worried big 
brother.  The one he might have been in our world if Samantha hadn't 
disappeared without a trace.  If his son-of-a-bitch father hadn't 
been up to his ass in whatever filth he was involved in.  What would 
have been the result, I wondered.  How would that Mulder have been 
different from the haunted, driven man I knew?  I was shaken from my 
reverie as a troll servant pushed a cup of tea into my hands.

	We had been chatting amiably for about fifteen minutes when 
Healer Kyla came in.  Her plain, monk-like brown robes did nothing 
to hide her tall, slim figure.  My heart beat a little faster and, ever 
the gentleman, I stood as she approached us.

	"I'm terribly sorry to interrupt, but it's time for Queen 
Shannon's healing treatment."  She gazed at me with those remarkable 
dark blue eyes. I gulped, and my blood began to pool somewhere south 
of my belt.  God, I couldn't remember the last time a woman had had 
this much effect on me!  Get a grip, Walter, I told myself angrily.  
She's just a kid, barely older than the King and Queen.  You could be 
her father, for Christ's sake!  If nothing else, my self-directed ire 
at least prevented my already tight breeches from becoming even 
tighter and embarrassing me completely.

	"I would like to see you for a treatment as well, Warrior 
Priest Skinner," she continued in her low, musical voice.  "After the 
midday meal perhaps?"

	Mutely I nodded, not trusting my voice to speak.

	"I'm going to stay here to work with Kyla," Scully said. "Why 
don't you take Walter over to meet our other friends?"  Again they 
exchanged stares for a few seconds.  It was starting to get on my 
nerves. Something else to bring up to Mulder when we had our chat.

	"Come on, Walter, we know when we're not wanted.  Andalor, 
take it easy.  Be good, Shannon."

	Kyla and Scully were helping her into the bedchamber.  "Oh, 
yeah. Like I have a choice!" she tossed back over her shoulder.


End of Chapter Eight



Chapter Nine


	"Okay. Where are we headed?" I asked. We were outside on a 
clear, crisp autumn-like day, and for once I was thankful for my cloak. 

	"We're going to see Jourdain and Aldara. You'll like them, 
especially Jourdain. You and he have a lot in common." 

	Uh-huh. Mulder had said the same thing about Reinald, and 
although I respected the man, I had failed to see many similarities. 

	We crossed the cobbled courtyard, our presence drawing the 
attention of throngs of street vendors and shoppers. Self-conscious, I 
hoped that it was Mulder who was the focus of the stares and 
fingerpointing. He seemed oblivious. Maybe he was used to it. 

	We turned a corner around the castle to a quieter, more 
secluded area. I could smell horses, and guessed that there was a 
stable or barn nearby. The clamor of the marketplace gave way to an 
irregular metallic clanging. I looked toward Mulder, but he just 
smiled. Another turn, and the source of the noise became clear. 

	A large bear of a man was swordfighting with a tiny wisp of a 
woman. Ferociously, they wielded the enormous blades, sparks glinting 
from the metal with every strike. So far the woman was holding her 
own, but - 

	"Mulder - shouldn't we be doing something to stop this? Shit, 
he'll kill her!" 

	"You should probably be more worried about him," he said, 
amused. He called out, "Jourdain! Aldara!" 

	They put their swords down as we approached. "Ah, Mulder!" 
replied the big man. "Have you brought your friend for a visit?" 

	They were breathing hard and despite the chill in the air, were 
covered with a fine sheen of sweat. The guy probably had an inch or 
two on me, and at least forty pounds. Thank God he was friendly. 

	"Warrior Jourdain, Warrior Aldara, meet Warrior Priest Skinner. 
Or just plain Walter," he grinned. 

	Jourdain extended his hand and I grasped it briefly. Aldara 
followed suit, a twinkle in her eye. "Play nice, Aldara," Mulder 
murmured, a smile touching his lips. She grimaced playfully at him 
and shook my hand. I wondered what had prompted Mulder's admonition, 
but that train of thought was lost in my surprise. For a tiny woman, 
she had a grip of iron. 

	"Pleased to meet you Jourdain, Aldara." Alarms went off in my 
head as I said her name, and my eyes narrowed. "An unusual name, 
but I feel as if I've heard it before. Have we met...?" 

	She laughed, her black curls bobbing and little lines appearing 
at the corners of her bewitching emerald green eyes. "I shouldn't 
think so, Walter. I'll get the midday meal started," she said to her 
husband. "Mulder, will you join us?" 

	"If it's no trouble," he called after her retreating form. "And 
if it's safe," he whispered to Jourdain. 

	The big man chuckled. "It's an old standby today, not one of 
her experiments. In any case, Daanna has done most of the preparation. 
I think it's safe." To me, he said, "Walter, since you are a Warrior, 
how would you like a little workout before we eat?" 

	In truth, I felt like I could use some exercise. Between 
Scully's and Kyla's ministrations, most of the ill-effects of the 
previous days had evaporated, and I was accustomed to working out 
on a daily basis. Still, my experience with swords was limited in the 
extreme. "If you'll show me what to do, Jourdain, yeah, I'll go a few 
rounds with you." 

	He smiled and attached what looked like leather guards to the 
blades. "You may use Aldara's for now. Later, I'll select a more 
appropriate weapon for you from the armory. Now hold it so...." 

	I'm in pretty good shape, but it beat the hell out of me how 
that tiny woman managed to lift the damn thing, much less wield it 
like it was weightless. I managed to mirror Jourdain's position. 
Mulder meanwhile had withdrawn to a seat next to a little girl near 
the entrance to the cottage. He looked amused. Gritting my teeth 
and determined not to do anything to further his amusement, I 
turned back to Jourdain and nodded for him to continue. 

	For the next hour or so, Jourdain put me through my paces. 
Initially I had problems, mostly because my arms kept getting tangled 
in my goddamn cloak. Once he showed me the correct way to fold it 
back over my shoulders, I think I did pretty well. I even caught 
Mulder with an expression of grudging admiration on his face. Or maybe 
it wasn't so grudging, I don't know. But by the time Aldara called us 
in to eat, my arms were trembling, my chest was heaving for air, and 
rivulets of sweat coursed down my face and poured down my chest and 
back. I hoped Lita had another shirt ready. 

	It was a pleasant meal. I liked Jourdain immediately. Of everyone I 
had met in the Realm thus far, I felt I had the most in common with him. 
In fact, I envied him a little. Enemies and friends alike seemed 
clearly identifiable in his world. None of the plots within plots and 
all political bullshit I had to put up with. I liked Aldara, too. 
Still, I sensed the conversation was guarded, each word carefully 
considered before it was spoken. Aldara especially was humorously 
evasive, and I couldn't shake the feeling I had seen her before. Their 
daughter Daanna, a pretty little thing much like her mother, was 
curiously quiet. Several times I caught her staring at me with a 
pensive expression. The child had some Mage power, evident at the 
edges of her aura. I reminded myself to ask Mulder what the larger 
orange portion signified. 

	As we rose to leave, I was dismayed to find I was already 
sore and stiff. Christ, if my muscles hurt this badly so soon after a 
workout, I was going to be in rough shape the next morning. 

	"Well, what do you think?" asked Mulder as we headed towards 
the courtyard. 

	"I like Jourdain, quite a bit actually. Simple, strong, 
honorable, down to earth. What you see is what you get. Beats the hell 
out of Washington." 

	Mulder chuckled sympathetically. "Perhaps you're beginning to 
understand why Scully and I consider this place a home." His glance at 
me was appraising. 

	I nodded and slowed the pace, my mind distracted. "Much as I 
would love to sit down and have that little chat with you about what's 
been edited out of all the conversations I've heard so far, I'm afraid 
it will have to be postponed for a while. I have an appointment with 
Kyla." I swung my right arm, trying to work the kinks out. "And don't 
think you're out of the woods yet, Mulder. We *will* have that talk... 
and *soon*. But right now... can you point me in the direction of my 
room, and how to get from there to Kyla's place? I'm afraid I really 
didn't get my bearings last night." 

	"You're going back to your room first?" he asked, surprised. 

	In spite of myself, I felt a hot flush on my cheeks. "I... 
uh... I just want to clean up a little before I see her." 

	"Oh..." About forty seven different things could have been read 
into his rendering of the single word. I tried - I don't know how 
successfully - to keep my expression blank, my gaze direct. Evidently 
he decided to pass on the subject for the moment, because he merely 
said, "I'm not surprised you don't remember the way, from the 
condition you were in last night." He quickly gave directions back to 
my room. "...then retrace your steps, turn left out of the archway 
into the courtyard, bear left around the castle, and it's the cottage 
behind the herb garden." 

	I thanked him and struck out on my own for my room. When I 
chanced a single glance back at him, he hadn't moved, and his eyes 
were still on me, his expression bemused. 

				~ ~ ~

	I stood in front of the Healer's door for a few moments to 
compose myself. I guess unlikely as it seemed, I had more or less 
accepted the way medicine in the Realm worked - Scully's little 
demonstration that morning had been rather convincing. If Kyla was 
about to be crawling around inside my mind and body, I didn't want her 
to find anything that would end up embarrassing us both. I had already 
almost bailed once on the walk over. I plunged deep into myself to 
look for that serenity again. Some moments later, I exhaled and felt 
that I was as ready as I'd ever be. I knocked on the door. 

	"Come!" she called out. I dipped my head under the low lintel 
to enter the simple cottage. 

	"My predecessor was an elf," she smiled in explanation. "This 
cottage was not really built with humans in mind." 

	"Evidently not. Good for business, though. Someone forgets to 
duck and you have more to heal." 

	She laughed then, a low, throaty sound that set my blood 
racing. "I suppose you are right. I never looked at it that way 
before. Come sit and get comfortable, Warrior Priest Skinner." 

	I sat, but there was no way I could have gotten comfortable. 
"Please - call me Walter. All this Warrior stuff is rather new to m- " 
I broke off suddenly, not sure if Kyla were on the 'approved list' or 
not. 

	Again she smiled. "It's all right Walter. I know of your 
origins. The nature of my work being what it is, it would be quite 
difficult to keep such a secret. Humans from your world are slightly 
different - the... fizz-ee-oh-loh-gee, I think Scully calls it. As for 
the rest... well, Healers don't go prying and searching out secrets, 
but inevitably in the course of a healing, some things become known." 
She turned to the hearth and began ladling something into a cup. 

	"Oh, shit," I murmured under my breath. Secrets become known, 
huh? Great work, Walter... just your luck to develop decidedly 
forbidden thoughts about the one person who can read your mind.... 
"I.. uh... I think you can skip the mental part of the procedure. My 
mind is just fine. I'm getting used to... all this." My hand waved in 
the air indiscriminately. 

	She turned back to me and handed me a cup. I inhaled the 
steam rising from it and recoiled. "What is this stuff?" I asked 
grimacing. 

	"Just herbs. They support the healing I'm going to do - speed 
it, nurture it. Drink it up." She waited patiently while I choked down 
the vile stuff. "May I enter your body as a Healer, Walter?" she asked 
formally. 

	I hesitated, then nodded curtly. She placed her hands lightly on 
my head and chest. Moments later I could sense her presence... 
everywhere. Her essence was different from Scully's - more floral, 
more soft and springlike compared to the bracing crispness of Scully. 
More... subtle, I guess comes closest. I felt my muscles start to 
uncramp. Even the old rotator cuff problem in my right shoulder, 
aggravated by the swordplay earlier, ceased to ache. For sometime, I 
just floated.... 

	When I opened my eyes, I was pain-free and refreshed. She sat 
near me on a low hassock, patiently waiting for me to rejoin the world. 
"What were you thinking of, Walter?" she chided. 

	I started, and flushed guiltily. Oh, God, she knew. 
"Th-thinking?" 

	"Yes, what were you thinking of, doing something strenuous 
today? You should be resting your body for at least three days. I can 
help you to heal, but your body does most of the work. And it can't do 
that work if you're going to abuse yourself like that. What did you 
do?" 
	
	I hoped I didn't look as relieved as I felt. "Jourdain was 
showing me how to handle a sword. We practiced for a while." 

	She shook her head, as if to say 'Men!' I knew that gesture - 
Sharon used to give it to me all the time. "Perhaps I did not 
communicate my instructions fully," she said, giving me more credit 
than I deserved. "No strenuous activity for at least three days. You 
have undone much of my healing, and Scully's." 

	"How do you know Scully...?" 

	She shrugged. "Healers leave... traces. She helped in your 
healing last night, but I detected fresher signs." 

	"She... uh... she gave me a treatment this morning. I was still 
having a problem with... all this." 

	Nodding, she murmured, "I can well imagine." She handed me 
some parchment packets. I shook them experimentally and heard a dry 
rustling sound. "I want you to take one of these tonight and another 
in the morning. Brew them as you would tea, and drink the liquid. 
Lita can assist you if you need help. I will need to see you again 
tomorrow. And no more swordplay!" 

	I nodded meekly. 
	
	In a gentler tone, she said, "I'm glad you're feeling better, 
Walter, but you must not push yourself. Your body and mind have been 
through a great deal of trauma in the past few days. I want you to be 
healthy so you can enjoy your visit here in the Realm." 

	While she was chewing me out, I studied my boots, but I met 
her eyes when she said that. It might have been my imagination, but 
it looked like her cheeks flushed a bit. Imagining some of the 
enjoyment I could have when once more fully functional, my thoughts 
were once again straying into dangerous territory.... 

	I stood suddenly, nearly hitting my head on a low, smoke-
stained beam. "Thank you, Kyla. Very well, no swordplay. I don't want 
to make any more trouble for you than is necessary. I'll see you 
tomorrow, then." 

	She rose with a shy smile. "You are no trouble, Walter. I very 
much enjoy seeing you. I'll be looking forward to tomorrow's visit." 

	I guess I must have nodded. Absently, I left the cottage, barely 
remembering to duck as I went out the door. My mind was on things 
other than locomotion at the time. Maybe it was just that Healers had 
superior bedside manners, compared to their Real World counterparts. 
Or perhaps it was wishful thinking on my part. But I could have sworn 
that what I sensed from Kyla was not the usual feelings a doctor has 
for a patient. 

				~ ~ ~


	If I hadn't just received strict orders not to exert myself, I 
would have gone for a run. My brain was seething with questions, 
possibilities, impossibilities - with Kyla at the center of all of 
them. My calm had fled to wherever it hid when I wanted it most. 
Before I sank to the level of a hormone-driven adolescent - did she 
*like me* like me, or you know, just *like* me? - I decided I'd better 
seek some diversion. In my case, that was usually running or working 
out. Those options not being open, I walked around the village, 
staying inside the castle walls. I thought I might as well get 
acquainted with the place as long as I was going to be there for an 
as-yet-unspecified length of time. As I wandered, I hoped that Mulder 
and Scully had been right about the vagaries of the flow of time. 
Otherwise by this time all three of us would be AWOL from the Bureau 
and God knows what our Morley-smoking friend would be up to. 

	I turned my attention to the street vendors, who were serving 
the last of their customers and beginning to take down their stalls. 
Catching a glimpse of something that looked familiar, I wandered up 
to the knife and sword stall. There, among the assortment of dirks, 
foils, stilettos and other weapons, was a twin to the knife Mulder had 
given me some months before. All this time I had possessed something 
from this strange world, and hadn't known. Typical of Mulder - it must 
have provided him with no end of amusement, seeing it there on my 
desk every day, knowing I didn't have a clue as to its origins. 

	I passed on, watching the vendors packing their goods into 
horse-drawn wagons for the trip home. The horses were magnificent 
beasts, dwarfing even their human owners. And some of the beings I 
saw were... God, I don't know what the hell they were. Different. Not 
humans nor trolls nor elves nor even gargoyles, but... something else. 
But even more stunning than the variety of intelligent life was my 
increasingly easy acceptance of this reality. 

	I wasn't aware of the passage of time but when I roused from my 
thoughts, the sun had dropped behind the high wall surrounding the 
village. I drew my cloak around me as the wind picked up, swirling the 
dust in the cobbled square. Spotting an archway into the castle that 
looked familiar, I climbed a winding staircase to what I thought was 
the right landing. Evidently all archways looked the same, because I 
was completely lost in the maze of corridors. I asked directions of 
three different servants and ended up in the kitchens. Fortunately 
I recognized Tilfo - or he recognized me - and he brought me back 
to the right passageway. I was about to go into my room when I 
remembered the chat I wanted to have with my erstwhile agents. 
As I knocked, I wondered what I'd be interrupting this time. 

	Mulder answered the door and relief flooded his face. "Walter! 
We were just about to send out for the Marines to form a search party. 
Where've you been?" 

	"Gee, Dad, did I break curfew again?" I asked sarcastically. 
"You know, Mulder, I *am* an adult." Then I thought about their 
concern for me and was touched. In a milder tone, I explained, "I've 
been walking, getting the lay of the land. I... I had some things to 
think over." 

	He nodded, his eyes boring into mine in that way he has that 
makes me think he can see into my very soul, and closed the door 
behind me. 

	Scully had made - surprise - tea and held a mug out to me. 
This time, I took it gratefully in hands red and chapped from the 
cold, and sank into a cushioned armchair. "Would you mind telling 
me what this world has against coffee?" 

	Mulder chuckled. "I don't think it has anything against it, it 
just doesn't grow here. Found that out during our first visit. When 
we came back the last time, I brought my own. This trip was rather 
sudden, so I didn't get the chance. But I know what you mean - good as 
the tea is, it's hard to go from ten cups of coffee a day to none." 

	I sipped the tea, the now-expected jolt kicking in a few 
seconds later. I glanced up to see him and Scully staring at each 
other again, and decided enough was enough. "All right, what the 
hell are you two doing?" 

	They looked at me, startled. "Wh-what do you mean?" 
stammered Scully. 

	"You're communicating, aren't you?" I was guessing, but they 
didn't need to know that. 

	They exchanged guilty looks and Mulder sighed. "How did 
you know?" 

	"Well, it was either that or I've been having periods of 
deafness. Your faces move, you change expressions - everything but 
spoken words. And it's not just here that it happens. You do it in our 
world, too, don't you? How? How do you do it? Is everyone here 
telepathic?" 

	"No," Scully said quietly. "Certainly not everyone. Powerful 
Mages can communicate to some degree telepathically. But most beings 
can't. This is... this is special. Unusual, even for here." She seemed 
reluctant to go on. 

	I glanced at Mulder, who was giving me one of his 'Later'  
looks. All right, but I'd hold him to it. "Okay, I'll drop that 
subject. How about all those things that aren't being spoken about 
by your friends? And don't bother with the innocent look, Mulder. I'm 
not buying that crap." 

	He spread his hands in defeat. "All right. What do you want 
to know?" 

	"For starters? Why is Neumann's name familiar to me? And 
Aldara's?" 

	"Gunther Neumann is the scientist who disappeared from MIT 
about eighteen months ago. You sent us up to Cambridge to investigate 
his disappearance because he did a lot of research the government was 
interested in, and foul play was suspected." 

	My eyes narrowed as I thought back. Right! I remembered now. 
"So he came here? This is where he disappeared to? Did you know that?" 

	Scully nodded and went on to explain. "He was there when we 
disappeared from his lab. When we returned, he found us. He was 
fascinated by our experiences. Since the Vortex - the big one - was 
directly, though unintentionally, activated by some of his 
experiments, he used it to travel here. To answer your question - 
yes, we found out after he left where he had gone. Someone he trusted 
told us, gave us a letter he had left behind, saying what he had 
done." 

	"Those must have been some experiments," I commented dryly. I 
made a mental note to find out more about them. "And Aldara?" 

	She shifted uncomfortably. "Uh.. actually... you *have* met her 
before...." 

	"But that would mean that she would have to have been in our 
world, and - wait! The girl with you - in the basement? Looking for 
her brother?" 

	She nodded. 

	"Jesus Christ! How many of these people have been to our 
world?" 

	"That you've met so far?" Mulder stopped to think. "Just about 
all of them, I think. Not Kyla, or Lita or the other servants, but... 
yeah, I guess just about everyone else. In fact, Tarnor's been there 
twice." 

	"Twice... Christ.... How the fuck did Tarnor manage to be in 
our world not once, but *twice*? It's not like he blends in." Jesus, 
just when you thought you knew everything that was going on.... 

	"We kept him pretty much under wraps." He laughed. "Sometimes 
literally. The first time, he never left the Professor's lab. The 
second... well, let's just say we didn't use a lot of public 
transportation." 

	I rubbed my eyes tiredly. "Do I want to know what all of them 
were doing in our world?" 

	Scully chuckled. "Probably not, Walter. Not right now, anyway. 
You look like you've reached your limit of shocks for one day." 

	"You're probably right," I sighed. 

	"Look, we're all invited to Reinald's for dinner tonight," 
announced Mulder. "You've got a couple of candlemarks before 
then - why don't you take a nap? I'll wake you in time to get 
dressed." 

	"Good idea." I pushed myself out of the chair. "One thing - 
what's a candlemark?" 

	"About an hour, give or take." 
	
	I nodded and left their room, crossing to my own. My head was 
reeling. Scully was right - I *had* reached my limit for shocks. 
Telepathic agents... psychic healing... interdimensional gargoyles.... 
I unfastened my cloak and pulled off my boots, then crawled up onto 
the bed. I was asleep before my head hit the pillow. 


End of Chapter Nine 


Chapter Ten


	The knock on the door was perfunctory, the merest nod to 
custom and good manners.  "Warrior Healer Scully!  Mage Mulder?  
It's time!"

	The snowy bedcurtains parted and Scully's head peeked out.
"Lita?  What is it?"

	"Sorry to wake you, Warrior Healer Scully.  I know you 
were up late at Reinald's dinner party.  But it's time.  The child is 
on its way. Kyla sent me for you."

	She slid out of bed and began pulling on her clothes.  "How 
long has she had her contractions, Lita?"  Seeing the blank look, 
she reworded her question.  "When did the journey begin?

	Another head appeared from between the curtains.  "Is it 
Shannon?" Mulder asked anxiously.

	"Yes, Mage.  Scully needs to come with me now, but you 
have a little time to prepare yourself.  I've laid out your ceremonial 
clothes for the ritual.  And the little minx - begging your pardon, I 
know I should not refer to Her Majesty in that way, but it appears 
that the child began its journey some time ago.  She elected not to 
tell anyone for several candlemarks, so as to let His Majesty get 
some sleep.  Initially he was quite cross about it, but now he's too 
busy worrying. Aye, you'll need you cloak too, Warrior Healer - the 
passageways are very drafty tonight."

	Scully tucked her shirt in and quickly fastened the cloak 
around her neck.  She was almost out the door being held by an 
impatient Lita, when she suddenly turned back and rushed to the 
parted curtains of the bed.  //Don't worry, love. She'll do fine - and 
so will you\\  He caught the hand that was stroking the side of his 
face and brought it to his lips, drinking in her confidence and calm.

	//If you say so\\ he mindspoke wistfully.

	She flashed him a brilliant smile.  //I say so....  I'll 
see you there\\, and she was out the door with Lita at her heels.

	Mulder slid down from the high bed and strolled to where 
Lita had laid out his wardrobe for the night's ritual.  On one chair 
lay a Mage cloak, not very different from the one he wore every day,
except for the rich embroidery in threads of gold, scarlet and 
emerald, intricately and sumptuously worked.  There was also a 
long white alb-like vestment to be worn beneath it.   He puzzled 
for a moment over what else should be worn under his ceremonial 
attire, thoughts of kilts inexplicably coming to mind.  Finally, 
shrugging, he pulled on a pair of warm, winter-weight shorts and 
his boots, then got into the alb and cloak.  A glance at the fireside 
told him Lita had also thoughtfully provided tea.  Feeling badly in 
need of the lift it would give him, he drank a mugful quickly, 
embracing the burst of energy like an old friend when it came.

	His hands trembled as he reached for the doorlatch.  He closed 
the door behind him firmly - more firmly, perhaps, than he had intended, 
and the slam echoed along the passageway. Then he paused for a moment 
to try to collect himself.  He could feel his bondmate, now with his 
beloved Shannon, and sensed a certain amount of disquiet.  Not real 
alarm, he told himself, but definitely disquiet.  Heart pounding, he 
was about to strike off down the passageway when the door opposite 
opened and Skinner appeared, pulling a shirt over his head.

	"What's up, Mulder?"  His voice was rough and gravelly from 
sleep.

	"It's Shannon.  She's in labor."

	Skinner almost recoiled from the waves of anxiety emanating 
from the agent's body, and mirrored in his expressive eyes.  "Women 
have babies every day, Mulder.  It's nothing to worry about," he said 
reasonably.

	"Shannon is not just any woman!" he protested heatedly.  He 
closed his eyes and shook his head.  In a gentler tone, he said, "I'm 
sorry - I didn't mean to snap. All this has me pretty rattled. Shannon 
...she's special, Walter."

	He nodded.  "I know - Scully gave me the condensed version.  
What are you wearing?  It's different from what you usually wear."

	"The other reason for my abject terror."  Mulder sighed.  
"Because Shannon's my halla, and she's the Queen, I'm expected to 
play a major role in welcoming the kid into the world."

	"Well, how bad could that be?"

	"Bad enough. Christ, Walter, I have to practically deliver 
the kid!  I'm just so shit-scared I'll screw up, do something that 
will hurt Shannon or her baby....  Neither Oxford nor the Academy 
prepared me for anything like this, you know," he finished dryly.

	"Sounds like you didn't get full disclosure before you took 
on the job," Skinner replied, a twinkle of humor in his eyes.

	"Damn straight, I didn't."

	The Warrior Priest shrugged.  "Can I be of any help?"  
When Mulder stared at him incredulously, he grinned.  "Come on, 
Mulder.  I haven't spent my entire life behind a desk.  I do come with 
some credentials.  Did you know I delivered a kid in Vietnam?  One 
of the women in a village we had taken went into labor.  We were 
temporarily without a medic - the last one having stepped on a 
landmine - and I drew the short straw.  It was a breech birth, but 
everyone survived....  You want more?  I was also my niece's Lamaze 
coach.  She... uh, she wasn't married and the father hadn't stuck 
around much longer than it took her to tell him she was pregnant.  
Her parents didn't want anything to do with her at the time, so...."

	Mulder's head spun.  The image of his boss - his 
demanding, ass-chewing boss - as Lamaze coach.  Fleetingly, he
pitied the poor niece...  But then, the more he thought about it, the 
less strange the notion became. He felt Walter's reassuring hand 
on his shoulder and suddenly - 

	Suddenly peace and calm were wrapping around him like 
a warm blanket, slowing the breakneck pace of his heart and suffusing 
his very soul.  Bewildered, his mind reached out to Scully, touching 
hers just enough to discover that the sensation wasn't originating with 
her.  Wonderingly, he brought his eyes up to meet those of his boss.  
"H-how....  How are you doing that?"

	Walter was frowning down at his hand.  "I- I don't know. I 
was just trying to make you feel better, settle you down a little, 
and....  I don't know, I just....  It just... happened...."

	Against all odds, it was Mulder who pulled himself together 
first.  "I'd  say you have more of the priest in you than you know, 
Walter," he said quietly.  "The last time I felt anything like that 
was from a priestess, who used her empathic skills to calm a 
bloodthirsty mob."

	"Jesus."  It was a cracked whisper.  "I... I've been sensing 
things... feelings... more and more as the day progressed, but...  I 
never thought...."

	The younger man nodded.  "And the longer you're here in 
the Realm, the stronger those abilities will become."

	He finally stopped staring at his hand and looked into 
Mulder's eyes, a tangle of emotions reflected in his own. "But what 
if I don't want them?"

	The younger man gazed at him sympathetically, knowing 
well the turmoil he was going through.  He had been there, done 
that. "I don't think that's an option."  Mulder shrugged. "It comes 
with the territory.  This is just who you are, Walter - in this world 
and to some extent in ours.  Don't be afraid of it," he advised 
gently.

	Dazedly, his companion nodded.  Mulder noted he was 
shaking, whether from the shock of his growing self-awareness, or 
from standing in the icy passageway wearing next to nothing.

	"Let's get you to your room and get you dressed," he 
suggested quietly. "You're in, by the way. If I'm going to go through 
that damn Birth Ritual, I want you there, ready to lay on hands every 
time I get rattled - which is going to be most of the time."  He 
pushed Skinner back over the threshold and closed the door on the 
drafts.  

	By then, Skinner seemed to snap out of his trance, going 
about the reassuringly mundane task of pulling on his pants and 
boots.  Putting his own turbulent thoughts aside, he asked.  "So 
why are you so close to Shannon, Mulder?  Apart from her obvious 
similarity to Samantha."

	"Oddly enough, that has very little to do with it.  Shannon's 
from our world, Walter.  We brought her here, Scully and I."

	His head snapped up.  "*You* brought that kid here?"

	He shrugged.  "We didn't have any choice.  Her mother was
dead....  Remember that explosion at the research facility in Boston?"  
At Skinner's nod he continued.  "Her mother, Karen Mather, was 
Gunther's research associate.  She and Shannon were abducted by 
some of the Smoking Man's friends, to force Karen to recreate some 
of Gunther's experiments - specifically the ones that open the Vortex.  
We were there on another matter, and were drawn in.  We managed 
to rescue Shannon, but not her mother."

	So that's why he was so protective of the girl, Walter 
thought.  Knowing Mulder, he had put himself through hell repeatedly, 
beating himself up because he hadn't been able to save her mother. It 
was just so 'Mulder'.  "So you brought her here?" he repeated, 
fastening his cloak.

	"She didn't have anyone else.  No father, as far as anyone 
knew at the time.  No other relatives.  She was a rebellious kid, and 
severely traumatized by her mother's death. Eaten up with guilt.  She 
wouldn't have lasted a New York minute with a foster family."  He 
shrugged again.  "We were coming here anyway, and planning to stay 
for a while.  It seemed the best idea at the time."

	"And she chose to stay here?  She adjusted to all of this?"

	"Surprisingly well.  Not without a few little glitches along 
the way of course, but yes, she made a place for herself here.  She 
too is a warrior, with a fairly healthy helping of Mage talent.  But 
orphans are unknown in the Realm, because of the large, extended 
families.  She needed the protection of some kind of relationship 
here.  So we fabricated the taabsut-halla relationship.  Technically, 
as far as most beings here are concerned, I'm her uncle by blood, 
Hannu's brother. I just didn't realize where all this would lead," he 
finished darkly, remembering the task ahead of him.

	"Midwife to the Queen," chuckled Skinner.  "So how did 
she get to be Queen?"

	"Married the King." At his companion's glower, he smiled 
apologetically.  "Uh, that's a bedtime story for another night.  Right 
now we have to get to Shannon."  He hesitated and became sober.  
"Seriously, Walter...  I'm glad of your company.  I can't think of 
anyone I'd rather have at my side."

	Skinner laid his hand briefly on his subordinate's shoulder, 
and again felt the serenity drifting through him to the other man. "My 
pleasure, Mulder."

				~ ~ ~ 


	Ballorca paced in the reception room of the Royal Suite.  
Would nothing ever go right?  Surely he had been cursed.  All his 
work, all his elaborate, painstaking preparations, and for what? Bad 
enough that nearly every priest and priestess in Fairwoods Domain, 
including the Royal Priestess, had journeyed to the deepest recesses 
of the Fairwoods Forest for the annual Renewal Rituals.  Then, the 
one priestess chosen to remain behind in the event that the Queen 
gave birth had been called away to the country estate of a dying noble.  
She had left at dawn the previous morning.  By this time she was 
already there performing her duties, a full day's ride away and 
inaccessible.  There was no Mage there, so even Gating was out 
of the question.  The result - no requisite priestess for the Birth 
Ritual.

	Then!  Then King Andalor refused to leave the Queen's side. 
All of his most reasoned arguments and impassioned pleas had 
been swept aside by the King.  Goddess, this was a *ritual*!  Did 
the King not realize the importance of strict observance of every 
facet of the ceremony?  I was patient with him, thought the aggrieved 
Minister of Protocol.  I was understanding and sympathetic and 
patient, but firm. Yes, quite firm. And what do I get for my troubles, 
for trying to do my duty to the best of my ability?  Just an angry 
King, shoving me away from the door, muttering words in that strange 
language he sometimes uses when stressed.  'Goh fok yiourseluf', it 
sounded like.  Ballorca huffed.  He had no idea what the words meant, 
but was fairly certain they had not been complimentary. 

	So - two Healers where one would have sufficed.  A King in 
attendence, which was unprecedented.  And no priestess, which was 
unheard of.  What else could go wrong?

	A pounding at the door interrupted his thoughts.  Dorbo had 
not quite reached it when Mage Mulder and a newcomer burst through 
the door.
	
	"I'm here, Ballorca."  The Mage started for the door to the 
bedchamber, his companion in tow.

	"Hold!"  Ballorca commanded.

	Mulder sighed impatiently and turned to fasten an icy glare 
on the officious Minister of Protocol.  "What?" he snapped, his aura 
flaring in annoyance.

	Ballorca cringed for a second, then reasserted his 
authority. "Who is this?  He has no business in there. The Ritual- "

	"What about the Ritual?"  The words stung like the lash of 
a whip, but Ballorca held his ground.

	"There has already been enough tampering with the Ritual.  
Two Healers, the King present, no priestess....  I can't allow your 
companion in.  I simply can't allow it."

	Mulder looked like he was about to push past the little man 
when his eyes lit up.  "In that case, Ballorca, you must certainly let 
him in.  If  you were able to discern auras, you would see that my 
companion is a Warrior Priest.  A *priest*, Ballorca."

	"B-but the Ritual calls for a priestess,"  the fussy little man 
wailed.

	"Are you likely to do better?" Walter demanded.

	"Well, no," he admitted.  "But do you know what you must 
do?  Only the Royal Priestess would know-"

	"Out of the way, Ballorca," Mulder said in a tone that 
invited no argument.  "I'm sure he'll figure it out."

	Hastily the minister grabbed his volume of Ritual, turned 
to the correct page and shoved it into Mulder's hands.  "The 
passage at the end of the page.  He must chant the prayer 
immediately after you sever the child's lifeline to its mother." 

	A low moan was heard through the door.  Mulder nodded 
impatiently.  "Yes, yes, we'll see to it.  Now get out of our way."

	Reluctantly, Ballorca stood aside to allow them to enter 
the bedchamber.

	Flickering torchlight illuminated Shannon as she lay 
back against the pillows, her eyes closed and her hand squeezing 
Andalor's.  She was pale and perspiring, her breathing rapid. Mulder 
tore his eyes from the girl and searched Scully's face.

	//It's going well, love.  Kyla was concerned that she was 
in pain.  Apparently the females here, for whatever reason, don't 
have pain when they're giving birth.  So she thought there was 
something seriously wrong.  I've explained to her that this is 
normal for women from our world.  I think Kyla's a bit perplexed by 
it all.  Normally a Healer tries to alleviate pain, but she's pretty 
sure she shouldn't if it's normally part of the process.\\

	//But Scully, she looks like shit!  She's pale and she's 
exhausted!\\

	She stroked his cheek.  //That's why they call it labor, 
Mulder.  It's hard work.  But believe me, she's fine.\\

	//Just the kid's luck to have inherited this part of her 
physiology from her mother rather than from Hannu,\\ he 
mindspoke, still concerned.

	//She's handling it well, Mulder.  For a first baby, the 
labor looks like it's going to be a relatively short one.  But she's 
in transition now, and this is going to be the hardest time for her.  
She's going to need you and Andalor to be strong and supportive.  
And to not take offence if she calls you a few choice filthy names.\\  
She smiled up at her bondmate.  //What's Walter doing here?\\

	//Filling in for a missing priestess.  And holding me 
together.  After all this is over, I have a few things to catch you up 
on.\\  He watched as a moaning Shannon braced herself for another 
contraction, collapsing panting back onto the pillows a minute later 
as it gradually released her from its grip.  //Scully -!\\

	//It's all right, Mulder.  This is normal.  Now, don't you 
have something you need to be doing?\\

	Numbly, he nodded.  As he prepared to utter the first of 
his chants, he noticed Skinner finally tearing his eyes from Kyla 
and approaching Shannon's bed.  Tenderly he placed a hand on 
her forehead and leaned over to whisper into her ear.  Visibly, the 
girl relaxed, the frown of fatigue and pain clearing from her face.  
Her small hand reached for his much larger one and he folded it 
gently in his grasp.  The King flashed his gratitude from the other 
side of the bed, acknowledged by the Warrior Priest's calm nod.

	Mulder spread his arms and began the Old Realm chant 
in a light baritone.  The chant, like so many of the ceremonial 
chants, went on for some time.  He was peripherally aware of the 
actions of the Healers and Shannon's movements, as waves of 
contractions crashed, taking over her body, ebbing and flowing like 
nature's tide.  But he also noticed the air of calm that had pervaded 
the room.  Andalor's pinched features had relaxed, leaving him more 
controlled as he gripped his wife's hand and wiped the sweat from 
her face.  Scully and Kyla monitored Shannon's progress, their 
movements spare, efficient, unhurried.  In a corner of the room, 
Lita sat serenely, waiting for her part in the ritual once the child 
was born.  Even Shannon seemed more in control.  Where 
earlier the contractions had made her powerless and anxious, now 
she seemed to be surfing over the crests of pain, to grab a few 
precious seconds of rest before meeting the next wave.  And next 
to her, Walter - cupping her hand serenely, whispering the 
occasional word of praise or encouragement... and somehow 
creating the air of calm that permeated the room and its occupants.

	He dropped his arms tiredly as his chant closed, feeling 
the serenity wrap around him like a security blanket.  He felt a 
tugging on his sleeve, and looked down into the face of his 
bondmate.

	//You were miles away.  Everything all right?\\

	//Can you feel it, Scully?\\ he asked, a gentle smile on his 
face.

	She nodded.  //It's like all the pain and fear has been 
replaced, the tension notched down....  Is that you?\\

	He shook his head wonderingly.  //It's Walter.\\	

	//Walter!  But how-\\

	//Priests and priestesses are empathic, Scully.  *He's* 
doing it.  I don't know how, I doubt if even he could explain how 
at this point.  But the power has been growing in him since he 
got here.  Incredible, isn't it?"\\ he mindspoke warmly.  For some 
reason, he felt absurdly proud of his boss.

	//Well, it's certainly having positive effects on Shannon.  
The state of relaxation he's induced will speed things up 
considerably. Can you move to the head of the bed?  Kyla and I 
want to check her.\\

	He nodded and moved to stand next to Skinner.  He leaned 
over and kissed Shannon's forehead as she breathed deeply at the 
end of another contraction. 

	Drowsily, she smiled up at him. "Hi.  How am I doing, 
Taabsut?"

	"You're doing great," he answered, his throat tight.  "And 
you're making me so proud."  He flashed a look of reassurance over 
at Andalor, then moved his focus to Skinner.  Warm, placid brown 
eyes gazed back.  "And she's not the only one who's making me 
proud."  A slight twitch of his lips was the sole sign Walter had 
heard, then he turned back to concentrate on the girl.

	Scully glanced up over the mound of bedclothes on 
Shannon's knees.  "I don't know what other chants you have, 
Mulder, but you'd better get cracking.  We've got a baby 
coming, and fast."


End of Chapter Ten