you been this way?"
"Two hundred and sixteen years."
"Amazing." She made a clucking sound with her tongue. "You don't look a day over thirty-five."
"I only appear that way. In truth, I was born in the year of our Lord, 978."
She held up her hand. "Hold it. Stop the video and hit rewind. Did you say you were born in 978?"
"Aye."
She stared at him for the longest time before speaking. "You're serious. You believe this. Everything you just said, you actually believe it's true." She shook herself as if a sudden chill had swept into the cave. "And I can't believe I'm even having this conversation. It's gotta be the wine going to my head."
She set her half-empty goblet down and stood. "Look, you seem like a nice guy and I'm sure when they get you back on your medication, everything will be fine." She rubbed her forehead. "Maybe I need to be put on heavy meds. This is a warning sign of an impending mental breakdown if I ever saw one."
She began to pace. "There has to be a reasonable, sane explanation for all this. I just have to figure it out."
Lady Jill continued to prattle on, talking, he believed, more to herself than to him. "You know, I've seen some weird stuff in my life. People do strange things to their bodies all the time—full body tattoos, piercings to parts of the human anatomy that should never be pierced. Heck, I saw a guy once who had metal balls implanted under his skin." She waved her hand in his direction. "So I wouldn't put it past someone to have bat wings surgically attached to their back."
She tapped a finger to her chin. "The medieval village…well, I've heard those reenactors can take their parts a little too seriously sometimes. That's easily explained." She paused, frowned at him, then began walking again. "I'll admit, the dragon part, that's not so easy to reason away."
Lady Jill stopped abruptly, staring at a shield propped against the cave wall before turning away, her eyes round as goose eggs.
"I know! This is some role-playing theme park where sicko geeks get their kicks living out their Dungeon and Dragon fantasies."
Baelin watched in stunned silence as she covered her mouth with her hand as if to hold back words too incredible to utter.
"Oh my God. What if that crazy saleslady was some kind of white slave trader? I knew it smelled weird in that place. I bet she drugged me and sold me into a warped, medieval sexcapade game." Spinning in a circle, her wild gaze darted from object to object in the cave. "Yes, that has to be it. And the drugs would explain the flying dragon hallucination. It all makes perfect sense in a freaky, twisted sort of way."
Lady Jill finally stopped her frantic movements and fisted her hands on her hips, eyeing him with suspicion. "You're not going to dress up in a chain mail diaper and have me spank you while you call me 'mommy', are you?"
He'd never been so confused in his life. The woman chattered so fast, it was almost as if she spoke a foreign tongue. All he could do was shake his head and pray it was the response she wanted.
"Thank God." She sighed, her shoulders sagging in relief. Then the walking started again. "I wish I could just go back to before all this insanity happened. I wish I'd never stepped foot in that strange vintage clothing store and I wish I'd never met that kooky munchkin lady with her stupid dragon tapestry."
Baelin stiffened, instantly alert to the one sensible thing in all her ramblings. "What is this dragon tapestry you speak of?"
"What?" She stopped, as if surprised he was still listening to her. "Oh, it was some ratty piece of cloth with woven pictures all over it. The saleslady said it was a thousand years old, but I didn't believe her for a minute. It was probably booby-trapped with chloroform or something. Now that I think about it, it was right after she unrolled it to the dragon part that I started feeling strange…"
Baelin left the odd woman to mutter to herself. He walked to the far wall and reached into a dark crevice
"Two hundred and sixteen years."
"Amazing." She made a clucking sound with her tongue. "You don't look a day over thirty-five."
"I only appear that way. In truth, I was born in the year of our Lord, 978."
She held up her hand. "Hold it. Stop the video and hit rewind. Did you say you were born in 978?"
"Aye."
She stared at him for the longest time before speaking. "You're serious. You believe this. Everything you just said, you actually believe it's true." She shook herself as if a sudden chill had swept into the cave. "And I can't believe I'm even having this conversation. It's gotta be the wine going to my head."
She set her half-empty goblet down and stood. "Look, you seem like a nice guy and I'm sure when they get you back on your medication, everything will be fine." She rubbed her forehead. "Maybe I need to be put on heavy meds. This is a warning sign of an impending mental breakdown if I ever saw one."
She began to pace. "There has to be a reasonable, sane explanation for all this. I just have to figure it out."
Lady Jill continued to prattle on, talking, he believed, more to herself than to him. "You know, I've seen some weird stuff in my life. People do strange things to their bodies all the time—full body tattoos, piercings to parts of the human anatomy that should never be pierced. Heck, I saw a guy once who had metal balls implanted under his skin." She waved her hand in his direction. "So I wouldn't put it past someone to have bat wings surgically attached to their back."
She tapped a finger to her chin. "The medieval village…well, I've heard those reenactors can take their parts a little too seriously sometimes. That's easily explained." She paused, frowned at him, then began walking again. "I'll admit, the dragon part, that's not so easy to reason away."
Lady Jill stopped abruptly, staring at a shield propped against the cave wall before turning away, her eyes round as goose eggs.
"I know! This is some role-playing theme park where sicko geeks get their kicks living out their Dungeon and Dragon fantasies."
Baelin watched in stunned silence as she covered her mouth with her hand as if to hold back words too incredible to utter.
"Oh my God. What if that crazy saleslady was some kind of white slave trader? I knew it smelled weird in that place. I bet she drugged me and sold me into a warped, medieval sexcapade game." Spinning in a circle, her wild gaze darted from object to object in the cave. "Yes, that has to be it. And the drugs would explain the flying dragon hallucination. It all makes perfect sense in a freaky, twisted sort of way."
Lady Jill finally stopped her frantic movements and fisted her hands on her hips, eyeing him with suspicion. "You're not going to dress up in a chain mail diaper and have me spank you while you call me 'mommy', are you?"
He'd never been so confused in his life. The woman chattered so fast, it was almost as if she spoke a foreign tongue. All he could do was shake his head and pray it was the response she wanted.
"Thank God." She sighed, her shoulders sagging in relief. Then the walking started again. "I wish I could just go back to before all this insanity happened. I wish I'd never stepped foot in that strange vintage clothing store and I wish I'd never met that kooky munchkin lady with her stupid dragon tapestry."
Baelin stiffened, instantly alert to the one sensible thing in all her ramblings. "What is this dragon tapestry you speak of?"
"What?" She stopped, as if surprised he was still listening to her. "Oh, it was some ratty piece of cloth with woven pictures all over it. The saleslady said it was a thousand years old, but I didn't believe her for a minute. It was probably booby-trapped with chloroform or something. Now that I think about it, it was right after she unrolled it to the dragon part that I started feeling strange…"
Baelin left the odd woman to mutter to herself. He walked to the far wall and reached into a dark crevice
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