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[Harlequin]

---

If this chunk of metal and flux and blinking lights was ever going to do anything at all, she would have to get the sequence right. Quinn carried a small, torn piece of parchment bearing a list, from panel to panel, checking the position of each switch, the status of every light. Mentally she ticked off each item on the list, and moved on to the next.

She hesitated as she reached the last panel. Could the soothsayer in Britain be right? What if she did this and it WAS the armageddon spell?? Of course, soothsayers don't usually sit in a pile of their own excrement and beg for partial bottles of liquour. Or chase invisible rats around the streets yelling “NANNY!!! Nanny nooooooo!” Still, he could have a point.

No... No, she had to try it.

The last switch on the last panel, and the moment of truth. She flipped the switch and there was a deafening POP, but she didn't have time to investigate. A man in strange armour was running around screaming spells and looking for a target to sling them toward.

“Calm down, Fella.” Quinn tried to soothe him. “Nobody here but me. And now, you.”

“Who are you? Where's Zack?” He slung a sword toward her and held it pointed menacingly in her direction.

“I don't know, it's just me here. Who's Zack?” Her patience was wearing thin. She needed to check the panels again – something had gone wrong. And all this guy could do was ask inane questions.

He paused without answering her. “Why are you nearly naked?”

“HEY!” Quinn blew her hair back out of her eyes. “Why are you dressed like some sort of daemon?” She reached out to push away the blade of his sword as it inched toward her in his panicked state, but the blade seared her hand, right through her glove. Apparently, that glow wasn't just for looks.

“Sh*te!” She jerked her hand back as he watched, and with a flick of his hand, the blade of the sword disappeared.

“The Azmodeus...” He began.

“Bless you.” Quinn blew on her hand and rubbed the reddened mark on her flesh

He looked back at Quinn, incredulously. “Where is the world eater? Where is the Azmodeus? Where is my brother?”

Quinn looked from strangely-armoured man, back to the panels of blinking lights, which had now gone dark. That pop. This guy wasn't here before. I'd have seen him run in.

“Where am I? What is this place? It looks so...primitive.” He touched the panels on the walls of what was arguably the least primitive place she'd ever seen.

Quinn sighed. “Oh hell...”
_________________
Why should the world be over-wise,
In counting all our tears and sighs?
Nay, let them only see us, while
We wear the mask.
~Paul Laurence Dunbar

[Harlequin]

---

“Here we are.” Quinn made a grand, sweeping gesture. She desperately hoped that this was indeed the City of Britain that the man sought. But the wide-eyed shock on his face was quickly dashing those hopes. That, and the fact that he'd asked, when she offered to help him get home, how many fuel cells it would take to get here.

His name was Xander. His brother was named Zack, but whatever force had pulled Xander into the heart of Exodus where Quinn had flipped switches with reckless abandon, had left Zack behind. There had been a battle of some sort. And Xander had undoubtedly been in the midst of the fray when he disappeared. No doubt Zack would think that his brother had somehow been vaporized. The thought was unsettling.

“It's so green...” Xander walked up to a tree and pulled his fingers through its leaves. “This looks nothing like my home.” But there was a mix of awe and splendor that hued the trepidation in his voice.

“Is there a place where I can rest?” The unfolding events were wearing him down, and his eyes were red-rimmed for want of sleep.

“Actually I just secured a room at the Sweet Dreams, here in Britain, earlier tonight. I had...business. At the Salty Dog.” Quinn motioned for him to follow, and strode swiftly toward the inn.

Her room was small. But Xander didn't seem to mind. He stood in the corner, removing most of his armour, each piece of which folded itself into a cube that she could have held in the palm of her hand. Quinn watched, utterly astounded, but didn't ask any of the questions that bubbled to the surface. Instead, she busied herself pulling blankets and a spare pillow from the chest in the corner.

When she had nested in a corner of the room, and curled up tightly within the pile of blankets, she lay watching Xander sideways as he tried to figure out exactly how to use the bed.

“I've never used one of these,” he explained. “Only a stasis capsule.”

Quinn nodded, transfixed on his form as he settled in and found his place, lying on his back, watching the ceiling. His eyes shone oddly, with a strange shimmer every so often. So many questions, she was bound to burst eventually and start asking them, rapid-fire. But for now, she was content to watch this thing that she'd brought into the world, and wonder if he was anywhere near as terrified as she was at this moment.

They fought off sleep as long as they could, watching one another in the darkness of their tiny world, and talking about anything that would keep sleep from claiming them. But it was futile, and before long, they had been pulled under by the needy tide of slumber.

Much must have changed in the decades, or even centuries, between her time and his. He seemed constantly astounded at what he called her “kindness.” But she only did what any decent human would, and she wondered if this meant she was becoming one – a decent human.

This question too, she decided, would wait for another day.
_________________
Why should the world be over-wise,
In counting all our tears and sighs?
Nay, let them only see us, while
We wear the mask.
~Paul Laurence Dunbar

[Harlequin]

---

“Your people do not fear the future.” Xander spoke matter-of-factly as he looked around the commoners' square in Haven.

People were going about, doing what people do. No one gave much notice to the strange duo, who could not have looked more out of place. His armour was other-worldly, and looked like something one would see in Exodus, if anywhere. And hers, he had reminded her, scarcely covered her painted body.

“Why should we?” Quinn turned back to him and cocked her head. The realization slowly began to dawn on her. So that's why he wasn't in any hurry to get back to Exodus and try to find a way home again. She looked up into his eyes, which had calmed considerably since his arrival. They rarely flickered at all anymore, which she found oddly comforting. “Your people live in constant fear of the future....” It was a realization, not a question.

Xander nodded. “It's a way of life for us. Instilled in us from the time we're born. So it's easier for us to adapt to it.”

She shook her head. “So that's why you don't want to go back. That's no way to live. It shouldn't be that way...”

He regarded her seriously a moment. “I want to try to find a way to change the course of the future, so that it doesn't have to be that way.”

A slow smile spread across Quinn's face. “I was SO hoping you'd say that...”

Without warning, a great grey dragon lumbered between the two, forcing them both stumbling backward. The beast's master meandered toward the door of the provisioner's shop, scarcely giving them a second glance. Quinn considered a rude gesture, but before she could act, Xander had sprung in front of her.

“Stay back!” he warned her, with a hand extended back toward her. She didn't know whether to laugh or tackle him. With a flick of his wrist, the glowing blade of his sword materialized, and he began to approach the dragon. The situation went from hilarious to dire, in a single heartbeat.

“Xander! No...No, it's all right. It's a pet. See? It's not his fault, it's the ass leading him. He's not a danger—“

“Dragons are pets?!” Xander paused, boggling over the notion.

“Mhm. They can be kept by people who can speak to them, and control them...”

He sighed, dispersing his blade. “I've ever seen such a thing. The occasional dog, or wolf, yes...But..” He turned his gaze back toward the dragon's massive backside that protruded from the provisioner's shop where it was wedged in the doorway. Xander rubbed his eyes, red-rimmed for want of sleep.

Quinn smiled, glad to know that she could at least help him fill that need. The days to come would present needs she wasn't sure anyone could meet. But she was determined to try.

“C'mon Xander, I'll get a room at the inn. You need some sleep if you're gonna save the world.”
_________________
Why should the world be over-wise,
In counting all our tears and sighs?
Nay, let them only see us, while
We wear the mask.
~Paul Laurence Dunbar