I Must Be Crazy

“Wow. This place is… warm.”
Darcie made a face at Tracy as the blonde girl fanned herself with a hand. “Don’t even bother trying to do that, it won’t work in a place like this. It looks like we’ve ended up in rainforest somewhere.”
The air was full of water vapour and hard to breathe; in moments, small droplets of water beaded Tracy and Darcie’s hair. Tracy squirmed uncomfortably as perspiration trickled down her back.
They soon found a sheet of paper, rolled up and tied from a vine; Darcie nearly missed it, but Tracy spotted the bright white colour amongst the darker greens and browns and pointed it out.
The vines were possibly the second biggest annoyance. They were everywhere, twining around Tracy’s neck and getting caught on her ankles. Some of the vines had the added features of little stinging hairs, like nettles, or small thorns which got stuck in her clothing and dug into her skin. Soon both of them were suffering from a variety of red welts and long scratches on their arms, legs and faces. Overall, it was not a very nice experience.
After what felt like a few hours of bashing through the jungle, they emerged in a clearing where the trees and undergrowth had been cut away. With a sigh of relief, Darcie sat down on a tree stump.
“Right then, aren’t you glad we’re out of that for the moment? Let’s have a look at this, then…”
“It says our names on the front,” noticed Tracy as the nanny unfolded it.
“Interesting… so someone or something knew we were coming.”
“This is very different from the last time,” said the blonde girl, and sat down next to Darcie on the tree-stump, which was luckily wide enough for both of them.
“‘The Jewel of Origin’,” read the nanny. “‘This jewel stands apart from the others. Rather than being named after a trait or concept - however it may sound - it is named after a world, the diverse and largely uncharted world of Origin’.”
“I’ve never heard of that world,” Tracy said, and her companion laughed.
“That means it doesn’t exist, I suppose? I’ve heard of it, actually - supposedly, their gods named it Origin because it was the first world. The first world how or where, they don’t say. I just think it’s the first world made by those gods.”
“Don’t you find it… strange? Talking about gods like they’re engineers or construction workers or something?”
“Not really. Arguably, some of the gods are, especially in worlds like that. Unlike in your world or mine, on Origin the gods are real, sentient entities. They can be seen and heard and touched, at least in some forms, and ostensibly they eat and drink and go to the toilet.”
“They don’t sound very godly,” said Tracy doubtfully.
“Their godliness lies in their powers, and in their blood. To all intents and purposes gods are immortal. Godhood is also a station which can be granted, although it’s a little more complicated than applying for a job or something. First, the person must take the station of demi-god - where they have limited powers and are granted lesser immortality - and then, if they prove themselves worthy of being a god, they must die and be reborn in their full power.”
“And all gods go through this?”
“Oh no, some are simply born that way. Some are born as demi-gods, for instance, and then, because the holy blood already runs within their veins, they can be promoted to full god without the whole death and rebirth thing. Some gods are born as gods, of course, and some gods - like the original gods - just… appear. Out of nowhere, as adults. Very strange stuff.”
“And then when you’re a god you’re a god forever?”
“Not quite. Gods are changing all the time - it can be quite a dog-eat-dog world, from what I’ve heard. All sorts of politics going on. Gods can be demoted to demi-gods, demi-gods to… well, nothing. Of course, it depends how you were born when that happens. If you were born human, you go back to being human. If you were born god or demi-god, you… well, you’re an ex-god or ex-demi-god. You’re not human, but you’re not anything else; you live longer than any other race, you have powers left over from before. It’s a hard existence, or so I’m told.” She flourished the piece of paper. “But we’re getting off-topic, let’s continue. ‘This jewel may be a little harder to find than the others, and certainly harder to find than the Jewel of Mirrors. This is because the jewel moves around, because it is, in fact, attached to a living, breathing life form’.”
“‘Life form’? Why is it a ‘life form’ and not just a, a person, or an animal?”
“Dorothy, you’re not in Kansas anymore.” Darcie glanced at the paper one last time, folded it and stood up. “When they say life form, they mean life form. Presumably it’s not human. Come on.” As Tracy followed her, she continued, “The letter said that we’re looking for a village of… well, it said ‘primitives’, but I suspect that the author of the letter was Mr Pith, so we’re looking for a village of people. We’ll call them people, because we don’t know exactly what they are. People will do. Anyway, the Jewel of Origin is attached to the head of the village chief, so we may have some trouble getting it.”
“It’s on his head?”
“That’s what I said, yes,” said Darcie mildly. “Must be all this humidity that’s making you deaf.”
They found the village quite easily, at the end of a path opened by the cleared away trees and undergrowth. The buildings could really only be described as primitive; little huts with leafy roofs and mud-daubed walls. It seemed deserted, until a hand snaked out of nowhere and clamped over Tracy’s mouth. Before she could speak or scream, something dark and suffocating went over her head, and her world turned abruptly to muffled blackness.

“Tracy! Tracy!”
The suffocating blackness suddenly disappeared, and fresh, cool air hit Tracy in the face like a slap. She coughed, feeling as though her lungs were full of dust.
“Tracy,” the voice said again, a bit less urgently this time. The blonde girl rubbed her eyes and opened them to find Darcie about to shake her shoulders.
“What just happened?” she asked, sitting up. Her nose was itchy.
“Basic kidnap scenario,” the nanny said, almost sounding bored. “They found us outside the village, deemed us to be a threat, bam bam kapow, bags over the head, thrown in a hut.” She knocked on one of the walls with her knuckles. “To be honest, given enough time I could just kick my way out of here. Especially if I was wearing heels, but I’m not, so trainers will just have to do.”
“Are we a threat?” Tracy stood up as well. Darcie shrugged.
“Depends. If you count the fact that we’re going to nick the jewel, then I guess so.” She glanced at her hand. “You know, I met a mage once who showed me how to throw fireballs… I know I’m not a mage but I’m sure it’s still worth a try…”
Just as she was striking a dramatic pose, the door opened and someone entered the hut. Tracy instinctively backed away; the person was tall, muscular, male and wore a rather threatening mask about four times bigger than his head. It seemed to be decorated with tribal designs, and feathers, beads and strips of fur dangled off it in places.
Darcie innocently adjusted her pose. “Why, hello there, stereotypical male warrior of unknown jungle tribe-”
“Why were you lurking outside the village like some strange beast?” demanded the warrior impatiently, the mask making his voice boom hollowly. Tracy blinked.
“You speak English?”
The mask turned to face her. “In-g-lish? I am speaking Original, foreign lurking creature.”
“Language spell,” Darcie decided. “Ah, magic, it does so much for us.”
Tracy, in the meantime, had been distracted by something else, namely the thick ridges of scar tissue on the shoulders of the warrior. They ran down towards his chest, and made swirling patterns on the skin of his torso. “You must answer my question,” he was saying angrily, and folded his arms, hiding the scars; Tracy’s eyes moved instead to the bright bracelets on his arms, which were twinned with ones around his ankles.
“We’re evil spirits come to haunt you,” Darcie said, putting her arms out stiffly in front of her like a zombie, wrists limp. “You can tell by our pale skins.”
“Do you think I’m stupid? I know your kind. You white people come all the time, in ships. Sometimes you make deals with traitors in our own villages, to sell us into slavery. And you think I would not know you.”
Darcie lowered her arms weakly in the face of his disgust. “Ah. And there my little ploy falls apart. I was hoping you-”
“-were a primitive tribesman, little better than an animal?” completed the warrior dryly.
The nanny bobbed her head. “Maaybe.”
With a sigh, the warrior stepped aside and motioned to the door. “Go out, white creatures. The chief wants to see you.”

The chief presided over the village from a throne which was no less impressive for its apparent simplicity. It was set into a cliff face on one side of the village, and it was only when you got closer that you could see the myriad of tiny, complex designs carved into it. The chief himself was no less impressive, wearing an enormous mask which probably doubled his apparent height. On seeing Darcie and Tracy, he shook his head slowly, feathers swaying from side to side.
“So it’s you who’ve caused all this bother. Honestly, are you people ever happy? You were only just here a few weeks ago, now you’re back again! What do you want this time?”
The nanny leaned down to Tracy and whispered in her ear, “Look at his forehead - just between the eyeholes.” Tracy looked. Between the eyes of the mask glinted a jewel, turquoise blue in colour and about the size of a hens egg.
The warrior who stood a little way behind them stepped forward and grabbed their shoulders. “Answer the chief!” he ordered angrily, shaking them. Darcie shook him off and kicked behind her, aiming at his knees; he jumped back before she contacted, muttered.
“We don’t have anything to do with people who’ve been here before,” Tracy said. Even to her own ears her voice sounded high and nervous. “We just ended up here, I don’t know what happened.”
The chief slapped the arm of his throne, making her jump. “The likeliness of that ever happening is so low, I’ll just take that as an attempt at a joke rather than sentencing you to a drawn out and painful death.”
“Chief,” said the warrior behind them. “Is it really so unlikely? I mean… look at their clothes.” He plucked at the shoulder of Tracy’s T-shirt. “We’ve never seen anyone wearing something like this. It’s almost as if they’re not from this world.”
“Demons?” the chief bellowed, almost knocking his mask askew.
“No, chief, not demons,” the warrior said, with more patience than he’d had with Tracy and Darcie. “It’s quite possible that there are other worlds which can be linked with this one - haven’t the Elders told us so?”
“The Elders are insane to a man,” snapped the chief, adjusting his mask self-consciously. Darcie’s eyes followed the movement of the jewel, and Tracy felt her tense beside her.
“Chief, the Elders know more than we ever could,” said the warrior, as the blonde girl moved a tiny bit to one side, giving Darcie space to move if she needed it. “Their knowledge extends far beyond the bounds of ours - they travel to the stars!”
“Marn, as much as their far-dreaming may impress a youngster like you, there is still nothing to support what they tell us -”
Darcie chose this moment to lunge, covering the ground between her and the throne in seconds. The chief cried out in surprise as she mounted the throne and made a grab for the jewel. She prised it out without any trouble - although Tracy noticed a pale lime green glow around her hands for a moment, and suspected she used her powers to help things along - before she turned and sprinted back towards Tracy.
“Come on!” she shouted, grabbing her by the arm. “We need to get back to the portal!”
“Marn!” screamed the chief, struggling to get up from his throne. “Don’t let them get away! They have the jewel, they have the jewel!”

A few people tried to stop them on their mad race through the jungle, although the main obstacle was the jungle itself. All the time they could hear Marn close behind them, gaining slowly but surely as they ran through his home turf.
By the time they reached the portal much of their bare skin had been slashed bloody by the vines and undergrowth, but Darcie didn’t give either of them any time to lament this, pulling open the round portal door and just about throwing Tracy through before diving in herself and slamming the door. At once, the handle was wrenched from her grasp, and Marn’s huge mask loomed at her through the opening as he reached through to grab her.
“Darcie!” the nanny heard Tracy scream, and someone else swore. Abruptly the portal ,through which the warrior was still hanging half in and half out, relocated about five feet in the air. In his surprise, Marn lost his grip on her; Darcie fell, and would have crashed to the ground and possibly injured herself if Hadrian hadn’t raced to catch her. They both ended up in a heap on the ground as Marn was forcibly ejected from the portal with a despairing cry. The round portal door disappeared and he landed on the hard floor.
In the absence of a chair, Tracy collapsed on the ground, panting. “I never, ever want to do that again.”
Mr Pith scurried over to Darcie and Hadrian. “Do you have the jewel?”
“Here, you little runt,” growled the nanny, thrusting it at him. “Why’d you bring that guy through the portal? Now we have to deal with him here!”
Tracy glanced at Marn, who was curled up into a ball, groaning softly. “I don’t think we’re going to have to do anything to him. The floor did it for us.”
Zariya, who’d been watching these goings on in amazement from a chair in front of the Agency desk, stood up and went over to him. She tapped on his mask, making him wince. “Wow, you certainly went places. I think he’ll live. Come on, up you get…”
“Are you alright, Tracy?” Markus asked, as the werewolf helped Marn to his feet and lead him over to her vacated chair. “You’ve got cuts all over you.”
She made a face. “I never want to go to a jungle again. But we got the jewel, so that’s all that matters.”