laid on me in the hall. I want to know what’s up— now, Suzanna Michelle.” Girlfriends only use each other’s middle names when a crisis exists or when deviant sex is being discussed, so she had to know I was serious.
“Forgive me, my Lady. I did not mean to offend or prevaricate.” She bowed her head and clasped her hands over her breast, like she was waiting for discipline.
I didn’t know what was going on; something was definitely wrong. But whatever it was, I was sure the lovely cabernet would help. Another sip felt soothing to my throat, almost as soothing as the warm water felt to my body. Another sip—deep breath. Suzanna hadn’t moved. Okay, if I only tried to whisper, maybe I could make my opossum voice last long enough to get this mess cleared up—or get snockered enough that I didn’t care.
“Suz.” Her chin moved up slowly at the sound of my whisper. “I’m not mad, you know better than that.” Before she got her expression under control, I was sure I saw shock reflected on her face. “But I am confused.” Another deep breath. I cleared my throat again. “Start over and tell me where we are.” Seemed like an easy enough question.
“We are in your bathing chamber in the High Temple of Epona.”
I mentally shook my head. Oh, sure—a hospital named after a pagan goddess deep in the Bible Belt? Maybe I hadn’t been specific enough in my question.
“In what state?” Another goblet or two of wine and my opossum and I would be ready to take on the world.
“You appear to have been injured, my Lady, but you look to be recovering remarkably well.” She blinked up at me with what I liked to think of as her soft little rabbit look.
“No, Suz, not my state of being, I mean what state am I in?” She was still giving me the rabbit look. Sigh. “Which of the fifty United States?” Man, I wished I could yell.
“You mean our location in the world?” The lightbulb clicked on.
“Yes, friend of mine.” I was going to personally lace her favorite brownies with her new Prozac prescription.
“Epona’s Temple controls all the lands around us. As High Priestess to Epona you are Mistress of Her lands.”
Well, that was comforting. I was having a psychotic episode, my best friend was having a nervous breakdown, but, hey, at least I was Mistress here! As the King (I mean Elvis, not some medieval dreamworld phony) would say, “Thank you, thank you very much.”
“Suzanna, I don’t want to shock or upset you—and please don’t cry (she always has been a crier), but I have no friggin clue what you’re talking about.”
“My Lady,” she said tentatively, “perhaps that is because you are no longer in your own world.”
Now, that got my attention.
“Suzanna, you just said I am mistress here, and my betrothed is on his way. Can you explain what the hell you are talking about? Oh, and please pour me some more wine, I have a feeling I’m going to need it.” I think she was relieved to turn away from me—maybe she could collect her neurotic thoughts and I could get to the bottom of this. Actually, this could all be an elaborate plot to get back at me for forgetting her birthday last month. (Damnit, I knew she was still mad.)
“It is complicated, my Lady.”
“Suz, you sound like Jeannie when you say that my Lady stuff.” She ignored my comment—I hated it when she didn’t get my jokes. “Just make it short and to the point, I’ll try to figure it out from there.” And we’ll get you some professional help very soon.
“My original mistress, the Lady Rhiannon, has exchanged places with you. She said your world made magic with machines, and power with money made from those machines, and she longed to live there. So she sent her soul there during one of her Magic Sleeps and found you. She said you are her mirror, her shadow, and that she could trade herself for you, thus entering your world. She believed that she could leave enough of her consciousness here, as she does when