Leah lies down on the table in the tower, her head against the stone, her cape providing a thin barrier against the chill. Kain and Jeno watch in high tension, there to reassure Leah Talesh if she comes through without warning. Solace and Adan stand by the door, armed with candle and sword respectively, overseeing the proceedings. Though disarmed and un-armoured, Leah has not been bound.

“I’m not trying exactly what Wellen recommended,” Seffon explains, fetching down a small vial from a shelf. “I worry that it will just result in us finding more of Leah Armande’s memories. There’s a precedent, though, for combining this sort of medical enchantment with a scry; stories of people’s minds being trapped in inanimate objects, that sort of thing. Ghost stories, mainly, but it always requires a piece of the person’s true mind.”

“Do we have that?” Leah asks, staring at the rafters. “I thought Leah Talesh was fully gone from my mind?”

Seffon shakes the vial; it begins swirling with red and black. “Luckily I took a sample before the switch.”

“Ah, system restore.” Leah nods sagely. “Excellent.”

He hesitates, spinning the bottle in his hand. “I’m going to miss your little nonsense comments, you know that?”

Leah smirks, though she doesn’t really feel it.

“Alright; I’m ready.” Seffon walks over to stand by her head.

“So am I,” she says, looking straight up.

Seffon begins the vaguely familiar process of casting the Cheden spell. Most of it is similar to what he did when he overwrote Eschen’s spell, but there are a number of key differences. Leah tries not to fill her mind with distracting questions, looking up at the ceiling and keeping her breathing even.

The casting takes only about two minutes to complete. Seffon finishes with a sigh, and Leah can feel the power tingling along her spine and down to her toes and her fingertips, warm and full of potential.

“You have to be asleep for it to work,” Seffon says, fingers twining through his hair. “I’m not sure how long that will take. I’ve designated you as the agent of the spell, so you’ll be in control, and on your own; I won’t be there.”

“Can you just knock me out? Like you did when I was injured, after the escape.”

Seffon nods and holds his hand over her eyes. “Ready?”

Leah’s breath catches in her throat. Goodbye? I’m going to miss you so much? I’ll never forget you? You’ve been my best friend here? See you in the next life? Take care? Gods, nothing feels right. I don’t want to go. This has been… “It’s been great knowing you,” she says with a small smile. “And…”

Seffon’s hand falls to her head. “Don’t. I know. I can’t.” He breathes deeply, and raises his hand again. “Goodbye, Leah.”

“Goodbye Seffon,” she says, and the warm darkness of sleep falls over her.

*

There needs to be a room.

The warm water of the baths of Valerin starts to tickle her skin, and she flinches in her mind.

No. Not that. But it has to be something she’ll recognise.

Carefully running through her time here, Leah finally ends up mentally constructing the gardens of the Valerid keep; the forsythias long-since done blooming, the roses just opening up, the ground cover bright green and fragrant with touches of evergreen and mint and wet mulch.

She visualises the walls, the training grounds off to the side, the sound of the rushing river. She even creates the fallen bridges, and the wood-and-rope replacements that were set up in their stead.

And now we wait.

At some level she understands Eschen’s posture; how he’d been leaning against the edge, eyes closed, unaware. Leah finds herself at times nervously pacing, at other times sitting on the stone lip of the fountain and twiddling her thumbs, staring at the gardens. Hours pass, it feels like, but she knows how deceiving sleep can be in that regard.

Should I make some pheasants? How would that even work? They’re living creatures; would I have to animate them or would they just start doing pheasant-stuff on an AI-type setting? Then again, plants are living creatures too, and the roses turned out fine.

A faint gasp to her side. Leah Armande looks over, hopeful, and sees her old body – long hair, unscarred, un-muscled though certainly buffer than it had ever been before.

“Leah?” she asks.

The other Leah looks around, eyes wide. “What the fuck?”

“Leah Talesh?” Leah Armande stands, hands held out, placating.

“Uh…yes?” Leah Talesh looks her over. “Is that…”

“Your body? Uh…yes.” Armande shrugs. “I was hoping you could explain that.”

“Huh,” Talesh says, sitting down slowly on the edge of the stone fountain. “Huh.”

Armande paces nervously in front of her. “So just to be clear, I want to ask.” She stops and faces Talesh, her hands clenched together. “Have you been living my life for over a month now?”

Talesh looks back up at her, blinking in confusion. “I guess the answer is yes,” she says eventually. “Three-four-three Havellin? Everyone speaks French?”

Armande releases a breath she didn’t realise she was holding. “Oh Christ we found you. Ohhhh Christ. I didn’t realise it but I was worried we would hit on a third parallel universe, and Gods help us if that had happened – ”

“I’m, uh,” Talesh shrugs. “I’m still not entirely sure what has happened here.”

Armande sighs and sits down beside her. “Well, I think it’s up to you to explain first, kiddo.”

Talesh makes a face. “You talk like your father.”

Armande sits up straight. “I beg your fucking pardon?”

“You do, though.”

“You’ve met my father?” Indignation builds. “You pretended to be me in front of my family?” And they didn’t notice?

Talesh tenses. “You know what, I think you’re right. I think it is up to me to explain first.”

So begins the first of many hours.

*

Armande: “Wait, so, you found a job within a week?”

Talesh: “Yeah. Sorta by accident, but it’s worked out well. Got a promotion recently.”

Armande: “And what’s the name of the bar?”

Talesh: “The Chantilly Club.”

Armande frowns in thought. “The what!?”

*

Talesh: “But how did you manage to convince the five?”

Armande: “I think they were just so happy I – you – we – were alive. They wanted to believe.”

Talesh: “And do they know the truth now?”

Armande: “I had to tell them eventually, yes.”

Talesh: “How did they take it?”

Armande sighs. “They all really miss you. Some of them were hurt by the fact I’d lied, and some were more okay with it, but they all missed you. A lot.”

Talesh takes a deep, shaky breath. “Yeah.”

Armande: “Also, through magic, I think I have a few of your memories? So that sort of helped convince them, for the first bit.”

Talesh: “What the fuck? What memories?”

Armande: “Well, do you remember when you found the healing potion, for instance?”

Talesh’s mouth hangs open. “I know what you’re talking about, and yet…”

*

Armande: “Wait wait, who’s Gloria? I thought you’d found a girl named Mary.”

Talesh: “I’m still not sure if Mary’s gay or not, but Gloria…”

Armande: “Are you dating?”

Talesh: “I think so? I made her supper last Saturday and we spent the whole weekend together, fucking.”

Armande: “Wow. Nice.”

Talesh: “What?”

Armande: “You’ve just…you seem to have a way with women, and I’m simultaneously not surprised that you managed that within a month, and supremely jealous.”

Talesh: “Well, what about you? Any luck?”

Armande: “Um…well, Kimry…and Jeno…”

Talesh: “What do you mean ‘and Jeno,’ Kain was smitten with her! Why would you step in like that?”

Armande: “Oh, uh-huh; ‘blind spot under the north bridge?’ And frankly Jeno had ideas of her own, and I’m as weak as the next girl when someone starts kissing my wrist.”

Talesh: “She kissed your wrist?”

Armande: “I don’t wanna talk about it.”

*

Talesh: “I didn’t really know what to say to people, to explain why I didn’t know anything about the world. And I didn’t have friends to help me out, like you did.”

Armande: “What did you end up going with?”

Talesh: “Well…”

Armande: “Oh no.”

Talesh: “Funny story…”

Armande: “Oh no.”

*

Armande: “So how did you figure out money and bills and all that? I know my utilities are all included in the rent, but the rest…”

Talesh: “I got a text, when I eventually found out how the cell phone worked – it was off, for the first bit.”

Armande: “Ah.”

Talesh: “So when I got it, I knew to pay the phone bill.”

Armande: “Okay, good. What about internet? My credit card? My insurance – no, that’s automated, never mind.”

Talesh: “Um…”

Armande sighs and rubs her hands over her face. “Okay. Okay. First priorities, when we’re done here. At least it’s only one month’s interest.”

*

Talesh: “How did you realise any of that from my diary?”

Armande: “I mean, it wasn’t exactly ­in-depth, but you did leave hints. I assumed you…”

Talesh: “Oh yeah, I knew; I just thought I hid it better.”

Armande: “Don’t get me wrong; it wasn’t easy to decode. I’m not even convinced I picked up the hints you’re thinking I picked up on.”

Talesh: “The olives?”

Armande heaves a sigh. “The fucking olives. You’re kidding, it actually was that?”

Talesh shrugs. “That was the first thing I noticed…”

Armande: “But why olives?”

Her tone makes Talesh flinch back a bit. “Because I like them.”

Armande shakes her head, patience thin. “There has to be more to it…”

Talesh: “Not really. I never ate an olive before the first time we visited Meredith’s family, and I was amazed. They’re a rich person thing. Anytime I had the savings for it, I’d buy some for a treat. I was so disappointed when I found them in your world; they’re so much cheaper, but also so much worse.”

Armande: “Worse?”

Talesh: “Bland. All the spice is gone.”

Armande: “Spice?”

Talesh: “Yeah, olives in the Gulf sort of make your mouth tingle, or at least I found that they did. The others didn’t know what I was talking about.”

Closing her eyes, Armande sighs again. “Leah. That’s an allergy. You’re allergic to olives, that’s what that means.”

Talesh: “Huh?”

Armande: “They don’t tingle in Quebec because my body isn’t allergic to them.”

Talesh: “Oh. Damn, bad luck for me.”

Once more, Armande sighs.

*

Armande: “Did any of my family find out where you work?”

Talesh: “I was able to keep it secret, mostly, just by being evasive and vague. I learned early on that I shouldn’t lie unless I know what I’m talking about.”

Armande: “Not the strongest moral compass to live by, but alright. So none of them know about the strip club?”

Talesh: “Oh wait, one does. One of your cousins, J-something, he goes there a lot. J…”

Armande holds a hand up. “Please don’t tell me, I’d rather not know.”

Talesh: “Jeremy! That was it, Jeremy.”

Armande: “Great. That’s knowledge I have to live with now.”

Talesh: “Gloria says he’s a really bad tipper.”

*

Talesh: “What do you mean, a war?”

Armande: “Ugh…Seffon will be able to explain it better, I don’t know how much time we even have here, but – ”

Talesh: “What do you mean, Seffon?”

Armande: “Oh Gods, uh, priorities, right, uh…”

*

Armande: “So once we were out of the prison, I had to chose my next destination pretty much right away. I didn’t know anything about geography, or politics, so I didn’t know where was safe.”

Talesh: “And you decided Seffon was safe?”

Armande: “I actually thought he might be able to fix the mind-swap, and if he couldn’t I’d…” She smirks a bit, but without warmth. “I wasn’t a fighter, back in Quebec.”

Talesh: “Yeah, I’d guessed that.”

Armande: “But in your world, I’d been forced to kill to keep up the ruse of being you…and I almost killed a Valerid guard, while breaking out of the prison…came really close to it, and I’m not even sure I’d have regretted it at the time, if I did…and, well, after that I sort of felt like ‘what’s one more death on my hands, right?’ So even though I didn’t know what I was doing, and I had to rely on muscle memory and Beeswax’s training for most of it, I figured that if he turned out to be an evil sorcerer I could just…” She mimes a stab.

Talesh grins. “Awn. I’m almost proud of you.”

Armande shoots her a cold look. “Don’t be.”

Talesh: “Fine then. So…uh…did you kill anyone after the prison-break?”

She takes a moment to think. “Gods, I…I don’t know. I think not? I honestly can’t remember. Christ, I can’t remember…”

Talesh pats her hand, very uncomfortably. “Trust me, if you had, you’d remember it.”

Something in her tone makes Armande give her a careful look-over; the dark eyes, the thin lips, the lowered chin, the stiff shoulders. She nods, understanding.

*

Talesh: “So he’s dead?”

Armande gets up again, pacing around the gardens, hands fidgeting. “Yes. He’s quite dead.”

Talesh looks very relieved, but it’s a feeling Armande can’t share. “Good riddance.”

“Listen, I need to ask,” Armande kneels down in front of her and takes her hands, though not quite looking her in the face. It’s too uncanny, I could never…those are my eyes! “He kept insinuating that something had happened between us…and the five all hinted at things…and even Jeno knew that you used to go down to the ships.”

Talesh is blushing a bit, and Armande’s stomach sinks. “I knew from the first moment that something was off about this marriage,” she says, “And I figured that the Auzzo’s captain might know something. Also, he seemed…” She laughs a bit. “Honestly I’d never had anyone try so hard for my attention. I guess because, being gay, we need to be subtle. It was fascinating to watch. Then, when I actually started spending time with him, he was so sweet, so persuasive, so gentle. Nobody is all those things without also being something else.”

“Well it sounds like all those things pretty accurately describe Gloria,” Armande says.

Talesh shoots her a scathing glance. “But Eschen was an enemy soldier.”

Armande looks away. “I guess I’m just asking because…well, because I wanted to know.”

“Know what?”

“How far did you go, trying to get information from him?”

Talesh chews her lip. “He was impossible to get information from. Curse him all you will, but he was loyal, and that is one thing I will never fault someone for.” She sighs. “I tried once to seduce it out of him; I stayed later that night, past our usual suppers, past even our occasional brandies. I kept trying to insinuate that it was so far to ride back, and that Beeswax was fine in the public stables, and that I loved the sound of the water, and that I was too full from the food…”

Armande looks at their hands. “And?”

Talesh chuckles. “And he sent me away. He’d already seen me and Jeno, a few days before. He told me that he knew, and that he didn’t believe anyone would be foolish enough to seduce a Duchess’s daughter if she wasn’t fully inverted herself. He said he was flattered, and he said he’d have asked me to marry him on the spot if he hadn’t already found out about me, but he did not let me stay. And, of course, after that he always sort of suspected that I was trying to get information out of him. He never trusted me the same, and I learned nothing more, so…I stopped going.”

*

Armande: “So what day was it, when you fell asleep?”

Talesh: “Friday. Why?”

Armande: “Because I wanted to know if I’d have to show up for work in a couple hours, or if I’d get some time to adjust to the…uh…changes you’ve made. But, it seems I’m jumping right into the deep end.”

Talesh: “What do you mean ‘jumping in?’ It’s my job, I’ll do it.”

Armande: “Right, well…it’s my life.”

Talesh shakes her head, disbelieving. “No. No! I was finally fitting in! I was finally happy!”

Armande: “But it’s not your fucking life, is it? And you fit in perfectly well here too; you’ve got a whole team ready to welcome you back, desperate to see you back – ”

“No!” Talesh slides off the fountain’s edge and to her knees, her face in her hands. “I can’t go back, I can’t do it, God, I just can’t – ”

Armande goes to her knees and takes Talesh’s shoulders. “It’s okay! It’s okay, I’m doing this so you have an understanding, so you go back prepared – ”

Talesh: “You don’t understand…I have a family again! I have friends, and I don’t have to worry that a slip-up on my part is going to result in them dying – ”

Armande: “They’re my family, excuse you!”

Talesh squeezes her eyes shut, quivering. “They’re alive. They’re alive here! They’re not quite right, and they’re not quite the same, but they’re so good and so caring. Your mum bought you that pride flag, you know? The curtain one?”

Armande nods and tucks Talesh’s head under her chin. “I know. It doesn’t block the light properly at night, but it’s too pretty to replace with a black-out curtain.”

Talesh sniffles.

“I never found out,” Armande says. “What happened to your family, here?”

Talesh freezes up. “It was a long time ago.”

Armande: “Tell me.”

Talesh: “We…we had a flax farm. We weren’t far from the river, but right before harvest time it’s necessary to divert the river and flood the fields. The river shrinks dramatically, and for a couple weeks right at the end of summer there’s very little fresh water around.”

Armande: “Okay?”

Talesh: “So if there’s ever a fire, there’s no way to put it out.”

Armande: “Oh Gods…”

Talesh: “And I was out one night, very late…playing soldier, fighting bogeymen…”

Armande: “How old were you?”

Talesh: “Thirteen, I think.”

Armande nods, and pulls Talesh a little closer. “I’m so sorry.”

*

Talesh: “Are you sure this will work?”

Armande: “Not at all. Seffon’s the one who cast the spell, and I only sort-of understand magic.”

Talesh: “Heh, better than me then.”

Armande: “Well, not exactly.”

Talesh: “Huh?”

Armande: “Were you not the one who sent your mind into my body?”

Talesh pulls away a bit. “I can only vaguely remember.”

Armande: “After the magic trap knocked you unconscious?”

Talesh hesitates for a long time. “I’m not sure it did. I remember the trap being triggered…and I remembered being horrified that I might have just doomed the rest of the five with my carelessness…” She slumps a little further into herself. “I think I gave up.”

Armande can hear the weight tugging at those words, trying to keep them from being spoken. She does not pry, and does not respond.

“I gave up. In that moment I wanted to lose. I was so scared, and so embarrassed, and so tired of feeling scared and embarrassed every moment of my life…so I chose to fail, once and for all.”

“You didn’t fail,” Armande says, but Talesh doesn’t seem to register it.

“Suddenly I was floating in between, half dreaming, half…I can’t even say, for sure. I started imagining a better world. And I saw different possibilities; strange worlds, with strange technology, and strange cultures. I can just barely remember the launderette…”

Armande: “The girl who was at our machine.”

Talesh: “Yeah. What was her name again?”

Armande: “I don’t remember.”

*

Armande: “Are you ready?”

Talesh: “No.”

Armande: “Well…just…go easy on them. They weren’t sure we’d even get the opportunity to talk, so they might be expecting you to wake up and immediately go on a rampage.”

Talesh: “I promise not to. I don’t promise that I’ll get along with any of the new friends you’ve made me, but I promise not to hurt them.”

Armande: “And I promise to treat Gloria well.”

Talesh: “Yeah. Yeah. Please do. And…be careful, if you ever bring her home to meet your family, because they might be insulted about that whole ‘adoption’ thing.”

Armande: “Believe me, I’ve already thought of it. So?”

Talesh: “So?”

Armande: “Are you ready?”

Talesh: “Yeah, I guess. You?”

Armande: “No. But it’s got to happen.”

Talesh: “Yeah…um, Leah?”

Armande: “Hmm?”

Talesh: “Just to say…”

Armande: “It’s okay, you don’t need to apologise.”

Talesh shoots her a sour look. “I wasn’t actually going to.”

Armande: “Oh.”

Talesh: “I was going to say…if you’re about to wake up in Quebec…fair warning, I think I might have fallen asleep in the storage cupboard.”

*

Rising slowly out of a deep sleep and back to awareness, Leah Talesh opens her eyes to a dark stone room lit by candles. Her body feels strong again, though a little bruised in places, and when she breathes in she can feel new aches in her ribs.

Something shifts to her right, and she sits up quickly, reaching for a dagger that is not at her side.

“Leah?” the man’s voice is unfamiliar, and it takes a while for her eyes to adjust to the candlelight enough to make out his features; the long face, the heavy brows, the light brown eyes.

“Lord Seffon?” she asks.

The man seems to flinch at that. “Yes. I take it it worked?”

“The switch?”

“Yes.”

“Oh. Yes, apparently.”

“Well. That was exceedingly efficient,” he says, dryly but also uneasily.

Leah looks around the room. A guardswoman in dark armour stands with a sword half-drawn, next to a dark-skinned woman who holds a twisted unlit candle. The darker woman’s eyes are deeply sad, but also curious.

Continuing to look around, she feels a wave of relief. “God, if she’d told me you two would be here,” Leah says with a grin, sliding off the table and walking towards Kain and Jeno.

“Leah?” Jeno’s voice is small, and her eyes are wide.

“Real Leah?” Kain asks, only slightly more confident.

“You spoke with the other Leah?” Lord Seffon asks, intent, and utterly ignored as Leah wraps her old teammate into a hug.

“I’ve thought of you every day,” she says, into Kain’s hair. She reaches out a hand to pat Jeno’s cheek. “Both of you. Every day. And the others?”

Kain pushes her away and finally manages to wriggle out of the hug. “They’re in Valerin, helping the city recover.”

“When can we go see them?”

“I’d like to keep you here a few days more,” Lord Seffon says gently, walking around the table to join them but still keeping his distance. “In case something goes wrong again. I want to be able to help if it does.”

“Oh,” Leah says, taken aback. “Really?”

Lord Seffon shrugs. “I don’t know you, Miss Talesh, but if anything goes wrong over the next few days I will help you recover.”

“Well. Um. Thank you.”

“I’m not doing it for you,” he says coolly, with a curt nod. “I’m doing it for her. Now it’s quite late, and I don’t know about you but we’re all tired. Solace and lieutenant Adan can show you to your room.”

Leah stretches her shoulders and looks to the two strange faces. The guardswoman nods to her, having re-sheathed her sword at some point in the conversation, and now gestures to the door. She leads her out, the Bairish woman in fancy robes following behind, the strange candle gone from her hands.

“Leah mentioned a Solace, when we spoke,” Leah says hesitantly. “Something about a prison-break?”

The Bairish woman nods. “It’s quite a good story. I’ll trade you for it.”

“Huh?”

“Leah told me a bit about her world, but I’m still curious. Where’ve you been? What did you discover? What has Leah Talesh of the famous five been up to in the world of…what was it?”

“Joinsburg.”

“Joinsburg.” Solace smiles. “Nice place?”

Leah shrugs and does not turn back to look at her. “Weird to be gone.”

Solace makes a sympathetic sound. “It’ll take a lot of getting used to.”

Leah does not respond. They leave her at the door to a room; within, she finds a dresser, a bed, a mirror, and a narrow window with panes of pebbled glass. The night is dark, and the bed is made.

“I fell tae firs wace,” the guardswoman says, and the Bairish woman nods. Leah looks her over appraisingly. The guardswoman raises an eyebrow. “Jes?”

“Were you one of the ones we snuck past on the way in?” Leah asks, digging through her memories. “I feel like I’d remember.”

“Sy es aseng ef yu wẽ uon of th guãs sy an th five ha teu sny pas aun theĩ uay en; th day sy uas cau, I guess,” the Bairish woman translates. “Ue hẽ ol memorys ba, e es pausseble sy remembẽsnau th pas fu wys.”

The guardswoman looks Leah over carefully, expression unreadable. “Fõ gu?”

“Liely.”

She purses her lips and shrugs, though it does not look like a casual gesture. “Fi dos e mattẽ ef I fas?”

“Why does it matter if she was?”

Leah raises a hand and waves it off. “Just wanted to know who I owed an apology to. The other Leah was quite insistent that I be nice to you people. I figured I’d start by making amends with the guards we went up against, blood-shed or no. Was there? Bloodshed, I mean.”

“During their retreat, yes, and during their rescue of you. Both had high death tolls,” the bard translates the woman’s response, then adds, as an aside, “She was there, for the rescue.”

With a curt nod of understanding, Leah straightens. “Then I’m sorry for the role I indirectly played in the deaths of your fellows.” It does not come out as sincere as she’d imagined. “Hopefully it won’t happen again.” That comes out even less sincere, and almost as a veiled threat. Leah bites her tongue before she can make it worse.

The Bairish woman translates this back – Leah hopes she does so with some gentler phrasing, but doesn’t count on it – and the guardswoman shrugs again, taking up a post outside the door without further comment. The Bairish woman nods to Leah, rests a hand on the guardswoman’s shoulder a moment, and leaves.

Leah closes the door and removes the strange suede clothing she is dressed in, then settles into the bed resignedly. Back home. Hurray.