Traveling between worlds

Chapter 3

The wormhole was nothing like Teresa had imagined.

There was nothing serene about it. It was a vortex of light and color in every direction at once: violets turning to gold before you could name them, blues shifting to red without warning, spirals spinning in directions that corresponded to no known axis. Beautiful, without question. And completely maddening.

Teresa had been inside for less than a minute when her stomach issued its first serious warning.

“Lord Nefer,” she said in the strained voice of someone negotiating with their own body, “I think I’m going to be sick.”

“Don’t you dare,” replied Nefer, floating beside her with his ears pressed flat. “Not on me, at any rate.”

Teresa gritted her teeth and looked ahead. At the far end of the vortex, still a long way off, a dark point was beginning to take shape, growing with every second. The exit.

They reached it before long.

The tunnel spat them out into open space and, suddenly, there was no ground.

They were plummeting toward the surface of an unknown planet, the wind roaring in Teresa’s ears and the landscape rushing up at a speed that left no time to appreciate it. Nefer saw her falling, calculated the trajectory in a fraction of a second, and grew.

It was not a gradual growth: one moment he was the size of a house cat, and the next he was something between a horse and a cloud with claws, large enough to put himself between Teresa and the ground. She landed on his back with a dull thud and a sound that mixed relief with astonishment.

“I’m riding a giant cat,” Teresa declared, her heart beating at a pace that had no precedent. “This is, without any doubt whatsoever, the most incredible thing that has ever happened to me.”

Nefer didn’t answer right away. He was looking down.

The landscape stretching below them was vast and silent: plains of a strange green that wasn’t quite the green of Earth, skies with a slightly paler tone than normal, and scattered across the surface, like decorations from some geological nightmare, the skeletons of creatures of a size that suggested nothing reassuring. Some were so large that their ribs formed arches beneath which entire buildings could have fit.

“Looks like we’re flying over a graveyard,” Nefer observed. “A very large one. I suppose this is part of the discreet route Palas mentioned.” A pause. “Somewhere on this planet there must be another wormhole. We need to find it.”

Teresa stopped looking at the skeletons and scanned the horizon. Something about that sky, the way the light fell across the vegetation, produced a strange feeling in her.

“Lord Nefer… this planet looks a lot like Earth.”

“Earth has very particular conditions for complex life,” he replied. “Any planet that has evolved along similar lines will look alike at first glance. It’s not coincidence — it’s convergence.”

He nodded toward a green plain that stretched in the distance, open and clear of the skeletons that dominated the rest of the landscape.

“That looks like a good place to land.”

* * *

The landing was gentle. Teresa stepped down from Nefer’s back and set her foot on the bluish grass with caution, as if it might bite. It didn’t. It stayed still beneath her feet, perfectly ordinary.

She took a deep breath.

The air was clean in a way the Earth had long since forgotten: no dust, no smoke, no faint smell of plastic that hung over every city. Just cold and wet and green air, like the inside of an ancient forest.

“The air feels very clean,” she said aloud, to no one in particular.

Nefer had returned to his usual size and was floating a meter off the ground, eyes half-closed in an expression Teresa was already beginning to recognize as deep thought. Palas wouldn’t have sent them somewhere with no way out. There was a wormhole entrance somewhere on this planet; it was just a matter of finding it.

Something moved among the dense vegetation bordering the plain. So still it was barely movement at all: the kind of displacement that only exists in animals that have spent a long time perfecting the art of not being seen.

Nefer didn’t notice. His eyes were on the horizon.

“I’m going to rise up and scan for the portal entrance,” he told Teresa. “The detection range is wider from height. You stay here and don’t move.”

“Understood,” she replied.

Nefer hesitated for a moment before going up. He looked at her.

“Hey. From now on… you can just call me Nefer.”

Teresa looked at him, eyes wide.

“Does that mean we’re friends?”

“I suppose so,” he said, crossing his paws and looking away at nothing in particular.

He began to rise. Teresa watched him go, smiling.

Neither of them noticed the grass moving with more purpose now, drawing closer.

It happened in a fraction of a second: a flash of red among the green, four yellow eyes opening just before the leap, and Nefer’s ears catching all of it before Teresa’s eyes could register anything.

“Teresa, move!”

The strike came before he finished the sentence. The serpent — red as an ember, horned, with four eyes that burned like amber — was cut in two in midair, inches from the girl, and fell to the ground in silence.

Teresa took a second to understand what had happened. Her heart was beating so loudly she could almost hear it.

“Thank you,” she said. “I didn’t see it coming.”

She didn’t get to finish the sentence.

The entire plain moved at once.

The grass, the bushes, the vegetation at the edges: everything rustled and stirred with the unmistakable movement of something that smells blood and reacts. Nefer took Teresa by the arm and the two of them shot upward in an instant.

“The smell is drawing them in. We need to go.”

The moment he said it, the ground shook.

Not a gentle tremor. The kind of vibration you feel in your chest before it reaches the ground, the signal that something very large is moving beneath the surface. The earth split open with a deep, wet sound, and from it emerged a head the size of a house.

The rest of the body followed, meter by meter, until the creature was completely out: a serpent of proportions that made the word serpent seem absurd, with the same horns and the same four eyes as the one before, but at a scale that turned the previous one into a hatchling.

“I think,” said Teresa, with a composure that was remarkable given the circumstances, “that the mother came looking for her child.”

“From where I stand,” replied Nefer, “sending your young out to hunt is child labor. But anyway.”

The creature opened its mouth. The fangs were the size of trees. It lunged with a bite that Nefer dodged while carrying Teresa, then spat a thick stream of venom that withered everything it touched on the ground: grass, stone, what remained of the smaller serpent.

“We should probably run,” Teresa suggested.

Nefer didn’t answer. Something had changed in his expression: the usual arrogance was still there, but beneath it was something colder, more focused.

He launched Teresa toward the canopy of a tree with a precise movement, far enough to put her out of reach, and turned to face the creature.

“As a general rule,” he said, in a voice that didn’t rise but cut, “I don’t eliminate intelligent life forms unless it’s the only alternative. But you just tried to harm my ward. That changes the calculation.”

The giant serpent lunged again. Nefer sidestepped it with an ease that seemed calibrated to humiliate, and struck the animal’s head with a paw that carried considerably more force than his size implied. The creature went down with a crash that shook the trees.

“You picked the wrong cat.”

He raised both front paws. In the air around him, points of light began to materialize one by one — dozens, hundreds, suspended like a private constellation turning slowly over the plain. Teresa, clinging to the branch, watched with her mouth slightly open.

Nefer brought his paws down.

The light fell.

Teresa covered her eyes. The flash lasted perhaps three seconds. When the brightness faded, the plain was silent and the creature had disappeared as completely as if it had never been there.

“That will teach it not to tangle with a god,” said Nefer, in the same tone he would use to comment on the weather.

Teresa climbed down from the tree slowly. She looked at him.

“Are you alright?”

“It’s been too long since I’ve had a proper workout,” he replied, returning to his usual pose — floating cat, arms crossed. “I should do this more often.”

Teresa laughed.

“Knowing you, I seriously doubt that’s going to change.”

Nefer floated over until he was level with her face. He stared at her with an expression that was halfway between a threat and theater.

“I can see they painted a very unflattering picture of me back at that palace. In very little time, too. I may have to take certain retaliatory measures against some gossips when I get back.”

Teresa looked away slightly. The smile didn’t leave.

“Whatever you say.”

Nefer exhaled. He expanded back to his larger size.

“Get on. We’re going to find that portal from above, before something else shows up with too many eyes.”

* * *

From height, the planet was another thing entirely.

The violence of the plain shrank below them, and what came into view was the true shape of the place: continents with jagged edges, oceans a deeper blue than those back home, clouds moving in patterns different from the ones she knew. Teresa watched it all from Nefer’s back, her head cleared by the wind, feeling something very close to peace.

Until she looked toward the sea.

On the surface of the ocean, far from the coast, something was sticking out of the water. Something large. Not large enough to be certain which part of the body it was, but large enough to understand that whatever lay submerged beneath it was considerably larger.

Teresa swallowed and decided to say nothing.

Nefer’s eyes were closed. His body, still in the air, radiated the quiet concentration of someone listening to something no one else can hear. Then he tensed slightly, like someone catching a current.

“Got it! I know where the entrance is.”

“Great! Where?”

“At the bottom of the ocean.”

The silence that followed had a very specific texture.

“When you say the bottom of the ocean… is that a figure of speech, or is it literal?” asked Teresa. Her voice was perfectly steady, which required considerable effort.

Nefer closed his eyes briefly, with the expression of someone who had already anticipated this reaction.

“I know what you’re thinking. But you have nothing to fear as long as you’re with me.”

“That is exactly what people say in films right before everything goes horribly wrong,” Teresa replied.

“Like it or not, it’s our only way out. So hold on tight, because that’s where we’re going.”

Teresa looked at the ocean. She thought about the silhouette she’d seen from above. She thought about mentioning it to Nefer. She calculated his probable response. She decided to say nothing.

* * *

The water received them with a different kind of silence than the surface.

Nefer had extended the energy barrier before submerging — a transparent bubble that enveloped them both and returned the sunlight in gentle waves. Inside, the air was the same as before. Outside, the ocean opened in every direction with overwhelming generosity.

“See, the barrier will keep us safe,” said Nefer. “Besides, I can’t allow my fur to be ruined by salt water.”

“I hope it holds,” Teresa murmured.

But as they descended, fear gradually gave way to something else. The first meters were an explosion of color: fish in shapes that no ocean on Earth would have tolerated, corals pulsing with their own light, aquatic plants moving with choreographed grace. It was impossible to take in everything at once.

“Look, Nefer,” said Teresa, turning her head in all directions, “there are colorful fish everywhere. That thing over there looks like a shark, but much more terrifying. And there are corals. This isn’t as bad as I thought.”

A shadow passed behind them.

It was not a small shadow. It was the kind of shadow that takes several seconds to pass completely, that darkens the water as if a cloud had blocked the sun, and that disappears with a fluidity that makes you question whether it was ever really there.

Teresa and Nefer turned at the same time.

“What was that?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” said Nefer. “But it looks like we’re about to find out.”

Around them, the fauna began to scatter. The colorful fish went first, then the corals dimmed their light like candles before a storm, and the water that moments before had been a spectacle became quiet darkness.

Then they looked up.

The creature above them was not exactly swimming: it moved with the unhurried certainty of something that has no predators, and its body blocked the sun with the efficiency of an eclipse. Scales of the deepest blue, gleaming like precious stones seen up close. A long neck that curved with elegance. Four fins moving in a rhythm that was almost musical.

“Don’t tell me that voice in my head is coming from that creature,” Teresa whispered.

Because there was a voice. It didn’t sound in the air, but directly inside, like a thought that wasn’t your own.

“Lord Nefer,” the voice was saying. “I was expecting you.”

“I won’t lie to you,” Nefer confirmed, in answer to Teresa.

The creature descended slowly until it was level with them. Its eyes were dark and enormous and conveyed something that wasn’t exactly intelligence in the human sense, but something older and stiller.

“Miss Lirielle entrusted me with a message, my lord.”

“So this planet is under her jurisdiction,” said Nefer. “Very well. We’re listening.”

The creature paused, in the manner of someone who knows that what they’re about to say does not quite rise to the occasion.

“Nefer, it’s not fair. You get to go have fun on Earth with Teresa while I’m stuck here bored out of my mind. Anyway… I’m planning to sneak past Carlos and come join you. I think I can bribe Palas. So wait for me — I’ll be there soon.”

Nefer said nothing for a moment.

“She seriously sent that as her message?”

“She did, my lord.” The creature seemed genuinely uncomfortable. “Miss Lirielle is like that. Arguing with her is a waste of time. Though even I find myself somewhat embarrassed on her behalf by that message.”

“Incidentally, Lord Nefer,” it added, “your companion has been looking at me in a rather peculiar way for some time now.”

Nefer turned to Teresa.

Teresa had her eyes fixed on the creature with an expression that was neither fear nor amazement exactly, but something more specific. The expression of someone cataloguing.

“She’s like that,” Nefer told the creature. “Don’t mind her.”

“It’s a plesiosaur!” Teresa exclaimed suddenly. “And it’s gorgeous!”

The creature blinked.

“A plesio… what?”

“The plesiosaur was a large marine reptile from the Jurassic period,” Teresa explained with the energy of someone who has been waiting years for the right moment to deploy that information. “It went extinct on Earth millions of years ago. And now I have one right in front of me. This only happens in films.”

“I thought you were scared of it a moment ago,” Nefer observed.

“That was before I got a good look at it. Turns out it’s calm. That changes everything.”

The creature watched them both with the patience of something that has centuries to spare and nothing pressing to do.

“Having delivered the message, I believe I should take my leave.”

“Wait,” said Teresa. “What’s your name?”

“There are so few of my kind that we have no need of names to tell each other apart.”

Teresa thought about this for exactly four seconds, hand under her chin.

“Then I’ll call you Nessaurus.”

The creature processed this.

“That seems acceptable,” it replied, in the neutral tone of someone who doesn’t entirely understand what just happened but has no objections.

Nefer gave Teresa a light tap on the shoulder.

“You’re not exactly original with names, are you?”

Nessaurus began to turn, slow and majestic.

“It is time for me to go. Farewell, Lord Nefer.” A pause. “And you, Earthling… what is your name?”

“Teresa.”

“I’ll remember it.”

And it was gone, moving deeper into the darkness of the ocean until the blue scales could no longer be seen and nothing remained but still water.

* * *

The silence of the deep had a different quality than the silence of the surface. It was denser, more complete, as if sound also followed the rules of water and moved more slowly down here.

Teresa contemplated it for a few seconds with a smile that wasn’t aimed at anything in particular.

“Hey,” said Nefer. “Leave the brooding. We have a portal to find.”

Teresa nodded and followed him deeper.

The energy barrier was the only source of light now. Everything else was black and cold and silent, and in that silence the portal grew more present as a feeling before it became an image: something that pulled gently forward, like a very faint current with a very specific destination.

“The entrance is inside that cave,” said Nefer.

Before them, in the rock face of the ocean floor, an opening gaped — dark and not exactly inviting.

“Are you sure?” Teresa asked.

“Of course I’m sure. I’m a god.”

Teresa looked at him patiently.

Nefer held the proud posture for approximately two seconds.

“Fine. I’ll explain. I can perceive interdimensional portals when I concentrate: it’s like sensing a current running in a direction that ordinary space shouldn’t have. And that current is coming from in there. Convinced?”

“You’re adorable when you try to be serious.”

Nefer gritted his teeth.

“Let’s just go in. The oxygen isn’t infinite.”

The cave narrowed around them as they advanced, until the walls were almost grazing the energy barrier, and then, suddenly, it opened up.

The inner chamber was wide and quiet, with a strip of air at the top where the water didn’t reach. Nefer brought them up to it and conjured a small sphere of light that revealed the space in full: stalactites hanging from the ceiling like stone fingers, a rocky path winding toward the back, and at the end of the path, suspended over a pool of perfectly clear water, a spiral of colors turning slowly on itself.

“This is it,” said Nefer. “We’re going home.”

Teresa didn’t answer.

He turned. She was looking at the portal with her shoulders slightly lowered, her arms crossed over her chest, and an expression that was hard to read.

“What’s wrong?” asked Nefer. “Don’t tell me you’d rather keep adventuring.”

Teresa exhaled.

“I do want to go home. It’s just… so much has happened in such a short time that I’m not sure I’ll be able to go back to my old routine. And my parents must be worried.”

Nefer tilted one ear.

“If those are all your problems,” he said, “then you don’t have any problems. Did you forget that I’m coming with you? I’m offended that you forgot, frankly.”

Teresa looked at him. Something in her chest loosened.

“You’re adorable when you’re annoyed,” she said, and laughed.

“You’re very lucky I’m a merciful god. Now let’s go.”

Nefer counted aloud, with all the solemnity the moment called for.

They jumped together.

The spiral enveloped them, the colors returned, and the wormhole opened before them in all its chaotic beauty. This time, Teresa didn’t close her eyes.