Greenhorn: The Judge

Chapter Three: Magicae

Rita led Isla to her room, her friend positively buzzing the whole way there. Rita on the other hand was vibrating.

The room was fairly standard in Rita's memories; large, the walls a living cluster of trees, their delicately swaying leaves making up the ceiling. The bed was massive, a four post, four tree bed really, they reached up to join the others on the ceiling. Its linens were white, clean and fresh, the mattress a cloud of feathers that begged for you to sink into it. The furniture, like much of the rest grew from the floor, every piece an ever increasingly intricate web of branches and twigs. The curtains blew softly in the breeze of the open windows.

When they entered the room Isla made another giggling noise as she ran for the giant bed. Throwing herself on it she sunk into the mattress, taking delight in the freshness of everything around her.

"Yeah, I could live here," Isla said with a satisfied look as she glanced around the room from her white haven.

"I know you could," Rita said and flopped down on the bed beside her friend; a smile on her face as big as Isla's, but it quickly died.

"Where's your room?" Isla asked.

"Next door. I think." In fact there was a secret door that only Rita and her grandmother knew about. But Rita didn't intend to use it, there was no way she was letting Isla out of her sight, not again. She would sleep right beside her for the next three days. Not that it would be unusual for the two of them, Isla had a tendency for nightmares, not dreams.

Isla glanced to the right wall where Rita had gestured to.

"Now," Isla said sitting up and slapping her thighs, a clear sign that she was about to say something important. "What the fuck is going on? I mean I know I've done some dumb shit when I've been drunk, but this seems like a lot."

Rita sat up, she didn't know where to start. Rita didn't know what would happen. Ever since they were children, Isla had always been a little bit more delicate, a little bit more fragile. Though that never stopped her from fighting, and it usually left her more worse for wear than her opponent. She didn't know how to keep her safe here and it brought back that old familiar feeling of frustration, a lump in her throat she just couldn't swallow. "Isla, why did you follow me?"

"I told you. I didn't want to spend another birthday without you," Isla replied. She knew what Rita saw. A small girl with a round baby face. Someone weak. Someone she needed to protect. Isla didn't hate that look in Rita's eye, more than a few times Isla had to stop Rita from doing something stupid instead of the other way around. Isla just didn't want Rita to feel like she had to protect her or that Isla relied on her. She didn't want Rita to worry. She didn't want to be a burden.

"Yeah, but Isla, I can't change that. I can't change my family's situation. I get you following us for a while, but the hell would you follow us through that portal? You've caused some shit, my dad's put his neck on the line for you," Rita said in a tone that made Isla forget the magical feeling around her. It was the voice that always brought her back to reality, a place she so often ran from.

"I know, I know I'm sorry. Although to be fair, how could I have known that... actually you still haven't told me anything. Where the fuck are we?"

"You saw a bush turn into an archway on its own and you thought that it would, what? Lead you back to my parents' house?" Rita said, realizing her jaw was tense.

"No..." Isla whispered, feeling intensely stupid. "I just... I wanted to know." Her voice was so soft and her eyes so big, Rita looked at her and swallowed the lump in her throat.

Head hanging low Rita took in a deep breath and popped her head back up. "Would you like formal or informal presentation style?" Rita asked with a smirk.