Primary school teachers shouldn't have to raise their arms in surrender, Elias thought. Especially to floating swords and knuckle-cracking teenagers. The cool cobblestone beneath his one bare foot contrasted deeply with the ominous sunlight beating down on him.

  From two suns.

  Five minutes of stumbling through the forest had brought him to the camp, drawn by the firelight and laughter.

  “Why are your hands raised?” One of the teenagers asked. No current laughter.

  Elias nodded at the blades. “You told me to halt in the name of the—Viridian Forest Sect? And waved those things at me.”

  “That doesn’t explain the arms.”

  “Aren’t I under arrest? Normally the police say halt and you raise your hands.” Elias wanted to scratch his nose. A fly had landed on it. The earlier silence was too painful. “So. While I don’t know what I did wrong. Surrender seems to be the best option. I always tell my students they should respect the law. What law did I break though? And you all seem a bit young to be officers. Deputies maybe?”

  The teenager looked baffled at the onslaught of words and turned to a young woman dressed in a bright white robe adorned with a golden sash. All the teenagers were looking at her. Clearly a leader, if a bit young.

  “Why did you run?” She tilted her head, observing him from his missing left shoe to the crown of leaves entangled in his hair.

  “Well. I was taking a stroll through the forest.” Elias swallowed at the narrowing eyes around him. Deflection with humour may not have been a good idea. “Umm. So I don’t know why I was—”

  His eyes lost focus and he remembered the attack. Bandits pouring from the hills, attacking his family’s caravan, guards rushing to defend and a scroll misfiring, catching Elias Varen in the face, unlucky as always.

  “Merchants?” He mumbled. “No I was at the school, Annalise was fighting with Derek over blue pens and there was a flash of light. No No. My brother. My parents? I have parents here?”

  “Are you alright?” The voice was concerned but the blades were closer to his neck.

  “Annalise stole the green pens, but they were fighting about the blue. My brother was calling for me when the spell—spell? Hit.”

  “Temporal cognitive dissociation from scroll teleport.” One of the teenagers said. “Chief Disciple Ila, he must have come from at least 6000 leagues away.”

  “Teleport?” Elias shook his head and focused on the young woman—Ila.

  “The scroll you say hit you.” The teenager who’d spoken earlier said. “Was there a flash of light? Blue or red?”

  Elias frowned, trying to recall. “Red I think, but with flashes of blue. My brother shouted for me to hold on.” He wanted to reach into his pocket, remembering the family token, but looked at the threats arrayed before him. He twitched his nose. The fly refused to go away.

  “That is teleportation.” Ila breathed and waved at her group. The weapons floated back to their sides, flashing in the rising suns. “So unnamed merchant. Why were you hit with a demonic cultivator’s scroll.”

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  The eyes of the group had shifted. Looking almost hungry. Elias swallowed.

  “My family’s caravan was moving through the Lili pass when we were attacked by bandits and then five minutes ago I woke up in the forest and saw your campfire.” He’d been in school with the kids, just before lunch break when a red flash of light with blue tints burst in front of his eyes and he was curled up on the forest floor. Elias didn’t believe it would be an acceptable answer to their question.

  “Seven thousand leagues. Give or take.” The teenager nodded, lips quirked upwards and nose tilted back in that arrogant way his students had for the five minutes before he dragged them to the PE teachers office.

  “I doubt you’re a demonic cultivator.” Ila said, tapping a finger against her lower lip while studying him. “So let’s just test you with the truth stone and be on our way.”

  They pulled a glowing white crystal ball from a backpack and circled him.

  He tried to wave the fly away while keeping his hands raised, which made him create a dance that would have drawn millions of views on the internet. He looked up. Millions of views if he wasn’t here.

  “Can I put my hands down now?”

  “We never asked you to put them up.”

  The fly flew around his head twice before settling on his nose again.

  “I think it likes you.” Ila smiled and sheathed her sword.

  “I’m sure it does.” Elias rubbed his nose. The fly returned after another two circles. He slapped, palm squishing his nose harder than intended. His muscles were strong. The fly flew through the teenagers and into the forest.

  “Rather than cognitive loss, this one might be crazy.”

  One of the teenagers moved close with the stone and Ila took out a notebook from somewhere. It looked like a magician’s trick. She must have had a space ring. Elias grimaced. Two competing voices sat inside his head trying to explain to each other. Elias Ward and Elias Varen. Who was he now?

  “Name?” Ila asked.

  “Elias.” The stone glowed blue.

  “Age?”

  “36.” Half blue half red.

  Ila frowned and the teenagers put their hands on weapons.

  Elias licked his lips. Ward was 36, Varen was 18.

  “18.” The colors flipped sides. That was definitely bad.

  “18 and 36?” He offered hopefully and the stone stayed blue.

  Ila was writing slowly, and blades were half drawn again.

  “Place of birth?”

  Ward’s memories were blank. Varen though, remembered home. “Corcon, in the Vililak mountains.” The stone remained blue and Elias heaved a sigh of relief.\

  “Cultivation level?”

  Elias blinked. What was a cultivation level? A sharp spike shot from his head through his body and he felt a warmth near his heart, pulsing in several spinning rings. “Seventh level of Novice Stage.” The words tripped from his lips without effort.

  Ila nodded and tapped the stone of truth once. He saw a trickle of energy from her fingertips which he could now recognize as mana. It looked purer than his, which indicated she was above Novice.

  “What’s your occupation?”

  “Merchant.” The stone was half and half again, like those delicious little cookies he used to buy from a bakery near the school.

  “Teacher and merchant.” Fully blue.

  “Twice.” One of the teenagers commented, blade out and warily moving to Ila’s side.

  “Indeed. Well, merchant and teacher Elias looks like we’ll have to bring you in for questioning.”

  “So you are the police.” Elias sighed. “Should have just said so from the beginning. Harassing innocent travelers.”

  “I’m not sure what the police are, but we were on our way to take up the role of enforcers at Pentas. Elias, innocent travelers are not 18 and 36. ” She smiled, almost kindly, a glimmer of something like humor in her eyes. “Nor do they walk around with missing boots, teleportation or not. If you would be so kind as to—as you were—raise your hands.”

  “My horoscope said. You know it doesn’t matter. I hope Annalise got her pens back.” He winced as thick metal cuffs were slapped over his wrists.

  The fly wound its way back and sat on his nose.

  “It really does like you.” Ila offered.

  “Just my luck.”