Emerald’s attempt at dinner was something Theo would’ve described as “admirable,” though she very obviously wouldn’t be opening any restaurants in the near future. But at least Theo’s beak didn’t fall off.
The child was a little less amicable about going home. But Sharp walked her out, promised they wouldn’t leave come morning without saying goodbye first, and finally the little pegasus flew off.
Actually flew, like right up into the air. Theo stared openly as she took off, though her companion didn’t seem to understand her confusion.
“She really does mean well,” Sharp said, turning to head up the stairs onto the second floor. They hadn’t been up there yet, but Theo could see what were obviously bedroom doors, waiting for them. “If her mother wasn’t such a fanatic about ‘traditional pegasus careers’, I think she’d make an outstanding blacksmith. But… I wouldn’t want to be the one to sow discord in their family. They’ve got enough of that without my help.”
Theo said nothing to that, just waited while the pony prepared what had been an empty bedroom with supplies from the closet.
“It’s been, uh… a long time since I’ve had a mar—a guest! A long time since I’ve had a houseguest!” Sharp said, emerging from the little guest bedroom with a freshly made bed behind him and an embarrassed look on his face. “Hopefully this isn’t less than what you were expecting. I’m not sure how Travelers live.”
Theo stared past him at the room, which reminded her more than a little of something she would’ve expected in a pre WW1 household—handmade blankets, simple furniture, and not even an alarm clock on the nightstand. But there was an overhead light, which Sharp seemed to see her looking at.
“Oh, right! These. I know how rare it is to see electricity this far north, but I’ve got something really special here.” He reached down, flicked on the light. It wasn’t terribly bright, and its light wasn’t quite steady either. But Sharp didn’t seem to notice. If anything, he was beaming with pride.
“Thanks, Sharp.” Even with everything she’d suffered today—getting her body stolen, her sex, having to walk through the snow half naked—she couldn’t quite bring herself to say something mean. Not to the one who’d offered her the way out. “It’s perfect.”
“Good. Good. Glad to hear it.” He got out of the way, backing down the hall. “I’m, uh… just over here if you need anything. Feel free to bang on the wall if you notice any strange noises coming from downstairs. And… yeah, that’s about it. We’ll probably set off a little after dawn, when it’s cold enough to sled and there’s light to see. So expect an early wake-up.”
“No problem.” She lowered her voice. “Do you… think we’ll really be able to send me home tomorrow?”
Sharp opened his mouth to say what she wanted to hear—but then he seemed to hesitate, expression changing to an unreadable mask. “I think I’ll do everything I understand to try and send you back. But the Hippogriffs are an ancient race, and their magic isn’t always straightforward to ponies. It’s possible it will need more research.”
“But I’ve got the best… pony… for the job,” Theo went on. “Studying this is why you’re up here, isn’t it? I get to go home, and you get to make progress on your life’s work. Perfect.”
“Perfect,” he agreed halfheartedly. “Speak to you tomorrow, Traveler. Perhaps you will be feeling better then—even if you do intend to return, there are many questions I would ask.”
Theo spent a long time awake in bed that night, stretched on an uncomfortable mattress in a surprisingly warm house for the gale blasting on the other side of the glass. In front of her on the bed was a collection of her earth objects—tablet computer, camera, and radio. She was saving battery on the first, and she still hadn’t heard back on the last. In minimum usage mode like this, she would still have plenty of juice on the radio. Even if the bridge wasn’t working all the way—if she could even get it open an inch, she could get a radio transmission through.
And do what? Who in god’s name do I call for help?
Her camera was a little more functional—one of the newer instant cameras, that produced digital images as well as a Polaroid-size printout with each shot. She’d taken a picture of herself, a picture of the village from out the window. But though the battery wouldn’t be much of an issue with that device, its supply of special paper would run out eventually too.
If I knew I was packing for an adventure in another world, I would’ve brought a solar panel or something. Also some beef jerky. Her mouth watered just thinking about it.
Getting comfortable in bed wasn’t easy, even when she tugged off all the ill-fitting remnants of her human clothes. After an hour of tossing and turning, she found curling up was the best choice—though her human self wouldn’t have been able to move that way.
And far too quickly, it was morning again. Theo groaned, and for a single blessed second she imagined she was in her empty bedroom back at Barrow base, and the noise she was hearing was just the cawing of the alarm.
Then one of her wings twitched, and she remembered that she was the one who’d be doing the birdcalls from now on.
She fumbled with one claw for the necklace-thing that let her understand the ponies, slipping it on over her head. This time she thought she noticed something—a subtle feedback against her skin, almost like electricity. But the sensation was brief, and didn’t last.
“Getting packed up downstairs! Just oats for breakfast I’m afraid. Also, Emerald is here. I think she wants to see you.”
It all came crashing back—Theo was in the wrong world, her body was completely wrong, and she couldn’t even understand the natives without the help of some impossible magic jewelry.
Nowhere to go but up. Sharp Edge was the expert of the bridge. In some ways, she was extremely lucky. There could’ve been no one who knew about the portal—or worse, maybe there could’ve been an empty ice sheet, without so much as a shack for her to hide in.
She spent nearly twenty minutes struggling back into what clothing she could. But she couldn’t get the thermals up her back legs to go any higher than her wings, and so she just ended up wearing the shorts underneath. The thinner jacket that had been under her outer layer. But I’ve got feathers. This will be warm enough.
She could tell it wasn’t dignified even before she left the bedroom. But then Emerald started giggling, and she felt her ears moving of their own accord.
“Is that really how ponies dress on the other side of the bridge?” Emerald asked, watching her struggling down the stairs with a grin spreading slowly across her face. “Cuz’ that… doesn’t look like it makes sense.”
“Says the kid flying around naked,” Theo muttered, though she avoided looking at the pegasus for more than a few seconds at a time. It was too early to deal with other people yet. “Please tell me you have coffee, Sharp.”
“Am not!” Emerald fluttered through the air, landing beside her on the stairs and hopping down alongside. “I’ve got this scarf! It’s real nice, see? Wool comes all the way from Equestria. Specially imported and everything. Bet you don’t have anything made of wool.”
She smiled in spite of herself. No, but my jacket is down. Something tells me you wouldn’t be thrilled about where those feathers came from. “Nope,” she said. “Not on me. I lost my hat and… most of my clothes… when I came through. But it won’t matter soon, because I have plenty of clothes waiting for me on the other side.”
They rushed through breakfast, eating what could be seriously described as a thick paste of oats before setting off along the trail. And there was one—icy, seldom used, but marked with the occasional overturned rock to indicate slopes covered by snow and other hazards.
Of course, the best part of the trip over was that Sharp Edge had a sled, and apparently the strength of an entire team of reindeer by himself. He’d already packed the whole thing with tools and supplies, leaving room on the back for Theo to hang on.
“Are you sure about this?” she asked, stepping up onto the raised wooden platform. Securing her own gear on it barely took any space at all. “I may not know how to use these wings, but I can walk.”
“Eh, I’m sure,” Sharp said, throwing a harness on over his bare shoulders. There was no blacksmith’s outfit this time—just a scarf and a pair of snow-goggles. “You’re like a pegasus, I can tell. Just because you don’t know how to fly yet doesn’t mean you aren’t light enough. I could pull three of you, and it would still be easier than one of me.”
“Well there’s two.” Emerald landed on the center of the pile of gear, grinning at them both. “I couldn’t let my master go on a dangerous mission without his apprentice.”
“It’s not dangerous,” Sharp said, clipping his restraints to thick rope on the front of the sledge. “It’s just a quick trip a few miles up from town, that’s all.”
“And since it’s so safe, you can bring me no problem!” Emerald exclaimed, practically squealing with delight. The pony looked back at her, expression briefly flickering through annoyance, then realization.
You let her lead you right into that one. But she didn’t actually say that. Theo didn’t mind if the little pegasus wanted to come along.
Soon enough they were moving, sliding along the ice with apparently minimal effort from Sharp. Theo kept her head down as they passed through the busy morning streets, wincing at the words she could now understand.
“I can’t believe Equestria just lets them fly anywhere they want.”
“They eat fish, I heard. The actually eat fish.”
“Somepony really ought to do something about it.”
For an adorable little village filled with adorable horse-creatures, the words they said were sounding increasingly like what she might’ve found on the worst corners of the internet. Maybe our worlds are more alike than I thought.
“I was thinking about you last night,” Emerald said, once they’d passed the last of the squat snow houses and were moving smoothly down the trail. “About that… weird name of yours.”
“It’s not weird,” Theo said, before the girl could take this anywhere she didn’t want to go. “It’s a perfectly normal name. Your names sound strange to me—having everyone named after things.”
“Yeah, well… I thought about that.” Emerald stuck out her tongue, pointing at the necklace. “That magic lets you say our words just fine. But while you’re here… I need something I can say. Did you have a nickname?”
“Theo,” Theo said flatly.
“Ugh.” The pegasus took off—almost effortlessly, from the look of it. Just spread her wings, and started gliding above the sled. Sharp had been right about the weight—he didn’t seem to react to having the pony unexpectedly gone. “That’s not helpful. Maybe… something else? Let’s see… I dunno how hippogriffs do it, but ponies sometimes have names like their cutie marks. You don’t have a cutie mark, so… maybe how you look instead?”
The little pegasus was an impressive flyer, as much as any bird Theo had ever watched. Which made it even more impressive, considering Emerald’s size. She’d already be as big as the largest eagles back home. What does that make me?
“How about… Summer. Summer something.” Emerald landed on the sled again, facing back at her. “Your mane is green, and we only see green in summer. Your coat too. Like… sunshine. Maybe… Summer Ray?”
“Summer Ray is not a nickname,” Theo said, annoyed. “Couldn’t you just call me Theo?”
“Summer sounds like a lovely name,” Sharp called from up ahead. Their pace was slowing now, apparently because he was occasionally glancing back to see what they were doing.
Summer does sound like a real name. A girl’s name. But then, how long would it matter?
“We’re here!” Sharp called, almost in answer to her question. And Theo could see that he was right—the massive ramp of stone leading up into the air towered over their heads, unchanged from the last time she’d seen it. She could even see a little trash and scraps of clothes she’d left from the last time poking out of fresh snow.
I’m going home in a few minutes anyway. Maybe I should let her have her fun. “Alright, Emerald. You can call me Summer.” As we’re saying goodbye.