This was nothing new for Jordan.
When his favorite (and really, only) hobby involved traveling all over the world to film, explore, and generally poke around in places he wasn't supposed to be, the police getting involved was an inevitability. Part of the way his friends picked their next destination came down to local laws and likely punishments if they got caught.
The hippogriffs were friendlier than any visit to the police he'd experienced before. Instead of bright lights and little food, they spoke in a comfortable conference room, with refreshments always available near the far wall.
They didn’t seem to think Jordan and his friends had done anything wrong in fighting for their freedom. But believing the group hadn't done anything wrong didn't translate into being any less thorough.
If only they'd known a little more about the world they were in, maybe they could give more of the "expected" answers, sparing themselves a more detailed investigation and whatever inconvenient things the hippogriff navy might discover. But they were strangers here, and all they knew they'd picked up from the ponies during their few days together.
But maybe this was really an opportunity. It was possible the ones living in this world would be hostile towards visitors. But maybe they weren't, maybe they were overflowing with information and just waiting for the right questions to help. It took little time for them to get past everything about their booking passage on the pirate ship, along with everything about the fight and its consequences. The interviewers even seemed bored with the answers. They'd heard the same things from the other group.
"And why were you trying to sail here?" she asked. A stern-looking bird with a pair of glasses on her beak and a different uniform than the hippogriffs they met on the dock. "If you're tourists, you're one of the strangest groups I've ever seen."
"No," Jordan said. He might not be in charge, but for whatever reason the hippogriffs seemed to trust his answers a little more, not giving them the same scrutiny as when Blake or Ryan spoke. "We're not tourists. We were following a map that showed there is a portal back to our world located somewhere on Mount Aris."
She dropped her pen, and suddenly started paying attention. What might've been near the end of their interview continued for several hours after that. The naval hippogriffs asked about practically every detail—where the portal was, how they'd found it, what they were doing here... on and on and on. "We're not here to bother you or anyone. We just want to find the portal and go home."
The hippogriff settled the canteen loudly back onto the table between them. "None of you should know about that 'portal'," she said flatly. "It is a state secret of the kingdom of mountain and sea. The fact you know anything about it escalates matters." She sighed, rising to her claws, and gripping her notebook under one wing. "The crown will have to get involved now, to decide what to do with you."
"You could make a suggestion," Jordan said absently. "Sending us through the portal will accomplish our goals, and also get rid of us. We just want to go home."
Not strictly true, of course. They had tons of video footage and physical evidence of this other world, and they didn't intend to let all of it fade into the background. When they made it back, the world would never be the same.
"We'll see," she said. "But given we can't release you, the navy will arrange lodging for your group. There's a hotel on the pier that visiting tourists seem to enjoy. You'll be restricted to an upper floor, without a balcony—but probably not for long."
They didn't argue. After all, there was no evidence yet that these “hippogriffs” wouldn't give them what they wanted.
They left Kaelynn behind for a few more questions, while navy birds in stiff uniforms escorted them to the hotel. Jordan learned everything he needed to know when he saw their upstairs room.
Twice the size of the space they'd rented in Paris, with polished hardwood floors, fine padded furniture, and all their belongings already waiting for them by the door.
One of the sailors followed them inside, adjusting his jacket. He was easily the youngest and smallest Jordan had seen, not much taller than Blake. "I'm Crewman Cloudbank," he said, gesturing with one wing in a way that was almost a salute, but not quite. "I'm to see to your needs while you're staying with us."
Jordan grinned. He probably shouldn't torment this bird. But he couldn't help himself. "I saw a pool down there on the bottom floor. Can we swim later?"
Cloudbank's wings twitched once. "I, uh... could probably arrange something. After it closes to normal guests, maybe. I guess you're here because you know things you shouldn't know. Please don't tell me what they are... but the more creatures you're around, the more you might tell. So they do want you to stay up here..."
"We're fine staying here," Blake said, pushing Jordan back with one leg. "We don't need to use the pool. But we would like a meal as soon as our friend returns. And if you have it, a current World Almanac? Do they print those here?"
He shrugged. "A meal I can do. One griffon, one bat pony, two..." He trailed off, frowning. "Sorry, I don't know what you are. Half dragon?"
"Kirin," Blake said. "I don't know much more than that name. We'll have whatever you normally serve ponies."
"Right." Cloudbank retreated through the door. "I don't know when you friend will be here, but I'll see about finding you an Almanac in the meantime." He vanished, shutting the door behind him.
Almost the instant he was gone, Ryan's body flashed green. He shook himself out, wings and antennae drooping like he'd been the one to carry all their stuff all day. He flopped over the edge of a couch, shiny black coat flush with green blood. "I should've just asked about changelings. If I have to keep pretending like this, I'm gonna... starve."
"Don't be dramatic," Blake said. "You're not starving."
We don't actually know how these powers work. He might be. Jordan approached the edge of the couch, nudging Ryan with a wing. "It probably got melted like... ten million times by now, but I've been saving a Snickers if you want it."
The insect-pony looked up, strange eyes turning towards Jordan. It was hard to see what he was looking at, but this time it was obvious. The pony was watching him. "You've been saving candy since Earth?"
He nodded. "Was saving it for a last meal. But fair warning, it's come far enough that eating it might be your last meal, starving or not."
Ryan shook his head. But he was smiling now. He already looked better. "Thanks, but... no. I don't think I could eat candy any more than the other things I've tried. It just doesn't work."
"The changeling should not fear," Galena said, settling down in a cushion near the wall. "The world is not at war with you anymore. Your king is respected in many lands. Rumor says that you are even building your own nation. But those bugs look different than you. Bright and strange..."
"I'm not taking chances," Ryan said. "These are my friends, and they had to fight their instincts to treat me like a human being. I don't know how natives would act, but they probably wouldn't stay in proximity long enough to learn that I'm not... whatever they fear I am."
Galena shrugged, grabbing a pillow from the nearby couch, and tossing it over her head. "I don't know what a human being is, or why you'd want to be treated like one. But you all seem close enough to me. I'd think you were ponies yourselves, if it weren’t for how you fought."
Jordan turned her back on them both, making his way over to the window and Blake. He was watching the city outside, with much of his attention focused on the mountain overhead. Their room was on the side of the hotel, about five stories up. So small compared to a civilization that could build so tall. Unless they found the mountain, instead of building it.
"How are you feeling?" Blake asked. "Still upset about me waking you up?"
He shrugged his wings absently. "I still think you shouldn't in the future. I know it doesn't look like it, but there's important knowledge in the Dreamlands. Maybe there's a way I could show you." He leaned forward, covering his mouth with a wing. It was so much easier to move those around now that he had practice using them in the subconscious world. "No, don't say it. I probably wouldn't believe it was real if I weren’t surrounded by so many other impossible things. But if you saw it, you'd think differently."
Blake grunted, but didn't argue. He'd been right in his guess, of course. "We might need to break out of here," he whispered. "I'm not blind, all three of you have wings and I don't. If it comes down to it, I want you to leave me and Kaelynn behind. Better for some of us to make it home than none of us."
"We don't need to think about that yet," Jordan said. "And besides that, only one person in this room knows how to fly. I can only dream about flying, which is way easier. Lots of stuff is easier in there." He hopped up onto a chair beside the window, spreading his wings wide. "You'd understand if you went."
Blake rolled his eyes, thumping something up onto the table not far away. It was the rolled-up map of this side, with its many notes and locations. "Oh? You'll have to tell me."
"Well, it's... it's like when you're dreaming. You don't question things about yourself that you might otherwise. Everything feels like it's supposed to be that way. I've got wings, so of course they can fly. I'm a girl, and maybe it's not a bad thing. You don't need air on the moon, because otherwise you couldn't get anything done."
Blake stopped, staring. "What was that middle one?"
Jordan hopped down from the chair, sticking his tongue out. "If you're expecting me to be embarrassed about it, forget it. I'm trying to master that strange power. The power to be whatever I feel like I am, in the moment." He lowered his voice, ears flattening. "There might not be a safe way home, Blake. I'm not sure what ninja-blender that portal took to my brain, but I'd rather not be bothered by it. I want this to be me on this side, and my human self to be me over there."
He frowned, then spread both wings again, gesturing for Ryan. "Come on bug, this matters even more for you. You can be any of us. I heard you were going around as me during part of the trip."
Ryan's wings buzzed nervously, but he followed to the table regardless. "It didn't work as well as I thought it would. They kept telling me to get some rest and heal up. At least Blake's twin got some answers."
Jordan barely even reacted to the admission. Only one part of it mattered to him in this precise moment. "I mean, you were me. You were a... mare, they call it. Does that bother you?"
The bug didn't sit down so much as start pacing back and forth in front of the table. "I thought about that earlier, when I was copying Kaelynn. I just... am something. While I'm you, I feel like that's how I should be. When I'm Blake, that's how I should be. But you shouldn't use me as an example. We're not the same species right now. I read emotions, and I think I might eat them a little bit too. When I copied you, it was because I thought I'd get more food that way. That's all."
It sounded so simple, and also impossible. But was Jordan really afraid of what he'd lost, or discovering he preferred being a bat to what was waiting back home? "I've decided something," he said, before he could chicken out and change his mind. "I'm not sure what this queen and royal thing is gonna be like. But around anyone else, you can use girl words for me while we're in here. And only while we're in here."
He jerked to the side, removing his knife from the open lip of his satchel. He dropped it into the table between them. He'd hoped it would land dramatically—but the case was still on, and it just sorta banged around. "This is just about traveling other universes. I'm not implying anything. Understand?"
"Fine with me," Ryan said. "But in exchange, don't call me a bug again, okay? Is that fair?"
"Sure," Jordan agreed. "I can manage that."