They were back in motion after Charles and Jasmine took a few minutes to clean themselves up. Catching a glimpse of Bel’s spirit eye had apparently worn the humans out, and they were sweaty and haggard when they returned to their seats. Charles had tossed his jacket in the back with Bel’s belongings and pulled the long cloth from his neck, revealing an impossibly clean white shirt underneath, which was now ruined by sweat. He had also crumpled the fabric as he rolled up the sleeves, and Bel wondered why he wore such a difficult color.

  Jasmine was a more practical dresser, Bel thought. Once she got rid of her own jacket, she revealed a deep red armless shirt underneath. It revealed the thick muscles of her arms and looked far more comfortable than Charles’ shirt.

  Bel was eager for them to get moving again. Back on Olympos, she would have taken a look around while humans were distracted with their unsteady stomachs, but here she was less certain of things. She was pretty sure that she could fight off a car if one attacked – she had fought buildings, after all – but she decided to wait for the humans, at least until she got her bearings.

  So instead of causing trouble, Bel took the opportunity to look through the windows and marvel at the world. After they had passed over a wide and imposing bridge, their surroundings had changed from a crowded canyon of buildings, instantly morphing into a vast open stretch of dark, flat ground. Cars swarmed like columns of giant ants, rushing at super-human speeds. Lights flashed from everything, and Bel even spotted lights flying in the sky. Whether they were from the Old World’s natural creatures or some human machine, Bel couldn’t be sure. As they rolled into motion again, the sights and sounds kept them busy and distracted until the humans were ready to talk.

  Charles opened a small cylinder and popped something from it into his mouth before handing it to Jasmine. She did the same thing, and a minty aroma filled the car. Orseis had perked up at the possible food, but the strong minty smell sent her nose wrinkling.

  Jasmine glanced at Bel and shuddered, and turned to Orseis instead. “So these two are gorgons and one’s got a freaky eye thing, but what are you, honey? Please tell me those are prosthetics? Rubber hoses with some handles inside?”

  “My mom was a cuttlefish,” Orseis answered. Jasmine grimaced.

  Charles leaned closer to Jasmine and whispered to her. “Look closely. I think it’s all real.”

  “I ain’t gettin’ closer,” Jasmine hissed back.

  The woman took a moment to neatly fold her jacket on her lap and put on a professional smile.

  “So…” Jasmine looked at the three passengers. “So are you all common where you’re from? Gorgons and cuttlefish and whatnot?”

  “Whatnot?” Orseis repeated.

  “Are there lots of cuttlefish like you?” Jasmine simplified.

  “Oh, no,” Orseis said, “that’s why I had to go looking for a mate. Most of the people in the place where I’m from descend from land animals, so I’m looking for some humans boys.”

  She gestured out of the window with a few tentacles. “And that’s why I’m here! You don’t know any nice boys, do you? If not, I saw a few a while back.”

  “Child, you are too young to be talking like that,” Jasmine admonished.

  “Yes,” Manipule agreed.

  Jasmine ignored the pouting Orseis and craned her neck to look at Manipule. “You two aren’t looking for mates too, are you?”

  “I’m here to fight Technis,” Bel responded instantly.

  Manipule lifted up the bronze egg. “Gorgons use eggs. We just need blood and serpents.”

  “So you two are what, her guardians?” Jasmine asked, looking between Bel and Manipule. “Sorry if I’m being inconsiderate, but this has been a long night.”

  “I’m a fighter!” Orseis insisted loudly. “I don’t need guarding!”

  “She volunteered to fight with us so she could meet some humans,” Bel explained. “The humans in Satrap, not the ones here. Then she made a deal with a goddess, some stuff happened, and she wound up joining me on my journey.”

  Jasmine frowned. “That wasn’t a good explanation. And fight? You make your children fight?”

  Orseis bunched up her tentacles. “We all fight, and I’m tough. If you don’t fight, you get eaten.”

  “Damn, wherever you came from is depressing.”

  Jasmine looked at Manipule. “You were a child soldier, too?”

  “I wasn’t a warrior. I worked in the meat factory as a child,” Manipule answered. “We were treated badly. Then Bel took us to freedom on the surface of the world. And then I followed her here.”

  Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

  “What, like a pilgrimage? Or some other religious thing?”

  Manipule’s red-on-yellow camouflaged snakes curled as she struggled with Jasmine’s rapid speech. “Pilgrimage?” she repeated.

  “Is that someone who eats turkeys?” Bel asked.

  “What?” Jasmine said, her voice going high-pitched again. “Pilgrims are people who go travelling, not people who eat turkeys.”

  Bel frowned. “Sorry, I taught them English, but I don’t remember all of James’ words. He said that he missed eating turkeys with his family sometimes, and told me stories about some pilgrims.”

  Bel thought back to her earliest coherent memories. “He told me lots of stories when we were in prison, but I guess I don’t remember all of them.”

  “He taught you English? I guess that explains your midwestern accent. And you learned to read and write from him?”

  Bel nodded energetically, dislodging some of her snakes. Jasmine watched with concern as Bel pushed a couple of hissing serpents back into position.

  Bel laughed at a memory. “Numbers and math too, but they were confusing. We were in different cells, so I couldn’t see what his hands were doing sometimes.”

  Jasmine sighed. “Well, at least you’ll be able to read. I bet someone’s gonna ask you to sign some forms later. If Charles had to read them all out for you he’d die.”

  Charles looked up at his name. “What? Me?”

  “You lookin’ at your damn eye display again? Are you even listening to all the crazy stuff that’s going on over here?”

  “It’s being recorded,” he said. “And I’m busy writing some reports.”

  “Is writing important?” Orseis asked with an unusually quiet voice.

  “It’s important,” Jasmine answered.

  “It’s difficult to get by without it,” Charles added.

  “Will human boys expect me to know how to write?”

  “Child, you need to stop talking like that,” Jasmine groaned.

  Orseis’ lips trembled. “But do I need it?”

  Jasmine looked at the two gorgons and Bel could feel the reproach in her accusatory gaze. “You ladies don’t teach your children how to read?”

  “I made her a helmet so she would stop getting concussions,” Bel said defensively. “And she’s alive. Keeping her alive was hard. We didn’t have time for reading.”

  “Food and survival are most important,” Manipule agreed. “If a parent can raise one child in two we are happy.”

  She reached behind Bel and pinched Orseis in the cheek. “And look how healthy she is! And with all of her limbs! Bel did a good job.”

  “Gah!” Orseis writhed out of Manipule’s grasp, turning an embarrassed shade of purple as she squeezed back against the window.

  “This is too damn heavy,” Jasmine said with a shake of her head. “Either you’re all crazy and I’m gettin’ riled up for nothin’, or you deserve all the damn ice cream. Either way, you need some therapy. Hell, I think I need some therapy.”

  “Sounds expensive,” Charles muttered.

  Jasmine shook her head. “You’re right. And this girl’s still gotta learn her ABCs. We need some damn Sesame Street up in here.”

  “There’s a screen in the back,” Charles said. “Not usually for kids’ shows, but maybe we should take a few minutes to discuss things. I don’t think taking them back to the office is a good plan.”

  Jasmine nodded, and the man poked more buttons. One of the reflective rectangular screens the humans were fond of popped up from the area between the front seats. It flashed colors and symbols, and a moment later it was filled with moving images, which were accompanied by music and singing. Jasmine reached over and turned it towards Orseis, but Manipule quickly leaned over Bel’s lap so she could see it too.

  “Y’all don’t need to watch from that close,” Jasmine said, but no one listened to her.

  Bel crossed her arms and leaned back, giving up on seeing anything on the screen.

  “Okay,” Jasmine said, clearing her throat, “I’m just gonna repeat some things to make sure we have them right, and then I’m going to have a conversation with my partner.”

  Bel nodded, but Manipule and Orseis were too engrossed in the words of some large, yellow bird to respond.

  “You claim you came from some other world where a guy named Technis was oppressing you,” Jasmine began. “You ended up in the museum, but you didn’t know your destination ahead of time. Upon arriving in the Metropolitan Museum of Art, you jumped into the pool and had an altercation with the museum guards.”

  “We were dirty,” Bel explained. “I’d just gotten through a big fight, so I was covered in blood.”

  “A fight?” the woman asked, her voice once again going high-pitched. “With who? Were they following you here?”

  “No, Technis got out ahead of us. I was fighting his creatures. Huge spiders, giants, flying lizards, and some worms that pretended to be castle towers.”

  “They were as big as buildings? And you were fighting them?”

  Bel nodded.

  “With what?” Jasmine asked.

  “I have some strong abilities.” Bel looked around their cramped space. “I don’t think I should use them here. I could destroy your nice car.”

  “Yeah, let’s hold off on that.”

  Jasmine turned to her partner. “What the hell, Charles! You’re the specialist in cult activities. Get off yo damn eye display and help me out with these crazy stories!”

  “Sorry, sorry,” he said. “Barlow is roasting me alive and General Hill is about to go nuclear on the entire department if we don’t give him access.”

  “Access?” Jasmine screamed. “Access to what?”

  Charles tilted his head towards the back of the car. “We did get clearance to use one of our bunker guest houses.”

  “Well great.”

  The woman turned to Bel. “Can you give me any proof that you aren’t some e-stimmed larpers gone crazy?”

  She held out her hands to forestall Bel’s response. “Please, anything other than your freaky eye.”

  Jasmine shuddered at the memory. “I swear to God, it was like every hungover Saturday morning came at me all at once. I never want to see that thing again.”

  Bel’s brow crinkled at the strange words and the string of random thoughts. “What?”

  Jasmine threw up her hands.

  “Can you prove that you’re a gorgon? Turn something to stone?”

  Bel frowned. “I can’t do that.”

  “Thank you!”

  “But Manipule can.”

  “Huh?”

  Manipule looked up.

  “Is that yellow bird so exciting?” Bel asked.

  “Yes!”

  Bel felt jealous that she was missing her chance to see it.

  “Can you show Jasmine your powers so she believes our story?”

  “Oh. They’re weak here.”

  Jasmine nodded. “Uh-huh,” she said in the deadpan voice.

  Manipule held up a hand and ice began to form on her palm. It grew thicker and taller, and soon a finger-tall sculpture of the yellow creature was standing on her hand.

  “The ice is nice, but I meant prove that we’re gorgons,” Bel said.

  “Oh, sorry.”

  “No, that’s fine,” Jasmine said. Her tone was calm and businesslike. “Can I see that?”

  Manipule handed the ice sculpture to Jasmine, who spun it around a few times, examining it. Then she handed it to Charles and had him spin it around while she pointed the back of her screen at it.

  “Great,” she said after she was done. “Thank you so much for that demonstration. The three of you can relax and watch the entertainment while my partner and I converse with our superior.”

  Bel nodded eagerly, happy for the chance to see what the yellow bird was all about.