Could he?
He tried again. Better this time… he began to feel magical force gather around him, but only its fringes.
It didn’t build. He tried a third time, felt the magic field gather again, felt it starting to build…
Abruptly, it was gone, like an electrical motor starting up then jerking to a halt as a fuse blew. Matt stood, devastated and aghast, feeling as though a rug had been yanked out from under him and the floor with it, leaving him trying to stand on thin air. Such a complete and sudden cancellation of the magic field had nothing to do with how many times Matt recited the verse, nothing to do with the nonmagical nature of his home universe. If the magic had worked at all, it would have continued to build, stronger and stronger with each time he recited the verse, finally transferring him, exhausted but whole, to Merovence. But it had cut off as though someone had thrown a switch… and Matt was sure that someone somehow had. Some enemy had canceled his magic account and left him stranded at home.
He sat down on his heels, rested his back against the wall, put his head in his hands, and thought. Now that he remembered it, he’d been surprised how easy it was to come back to this universe. Could that have been because he’d been born here, and was part of its physical structure? He shuddered at the thought that he might belong here, where he’d always been a loser.
No, he corrected himself… felt like a loser. But the boyhood “winners” had been Liam, Luco, Choy, and Herm, who’d let themselves get addicted to drugs and were now eking out livings with minimum-wage jobs and mugging. They would die in the same part of town they’d been born in, or one very much like it … except that the neighborhood would get worse as they grew older. Matt, whom they had kicked around and bullied and insulted, had graduated from high school, then college, and had finished the coursework for his doctorate. Even if he’d stayed in this universe, he would have had a better life than the neighborhood toughs, who saw themselves as winners.
Or did they? Was that just his teenage perceptions talking? Sure, the neighborhood girls had scorned him and cooed over Liam and Luco… but whom would they gravitate toward now?
Not that it mattered. Matt was married, and to a woman finer by far than any of them… a real princess who had become a real queen, in a universe in which his talents and knowledge made him a winner.
He had to get back to it.
His head snapped up; he looked around, suddenly aware that he was very vulnerable… but the tunnel was still empty with no one in sight, though he did hear footsteps back toward the station. He lowered his head again, but didn’t let his mind wander as it just had. He’d been so deeply sunk in the trance of thought that he wouldn’t have heard any muggers coming up on him. Shame to have to think that way, but there it was.
“Is something wrong, young man?”
Matt looked up. A middle-aged man stood by him, dapper in a gray pin-striped three-piece suit and silk tie. He was lean, with kindly eyes, a straight nose, mustache and goatee. He gazed down at Matt with concern.
Matt pushed himself to his feet, forcing a smile. “Nothing, really. Just kinda tired.”
“No, I can see something is troubling you,” the stranger said, frowning. “Surely there is some way in which I can help.”
Matt shrugged, feeling awkward. He knew the older man meant well, but was really butting in. Still, he was only trying to help, so Matt forced himself to be civil. “I’m just having trouble figuring out how to get home, that’s all.”
“Oh!” The stranger’s face relaxed, even smiling a little as he reached inside his suit coat. “Well, if that’s all… “
“No, no, I’m afraid money won’t help!” Matt held up a palm to keep him from pulling out his wallet. “I can’t get home with a train ticket.”
“Not by train? But… ” The stranger glanced back at the station.
“Why am I under the tracks?” Matt forced a smile. “Good place to be alone to think.”
“Sometimes thinking is more easily done by talking.” The old gent looked sympathetic again. “How can you get home?”
“That’s what I’m trying to figure out.” Matt searched for a generality that would satisfy the old busybody.
“I’m from far away, you see, and it’s a matter of working the system.”
“Oh, bureaucracy!” The stranger smiled. “I’m expert in that. Nirobus, at your service.” He held out a gloved hand.
“Matt Mantrell.” Matt shook the hand, warming to the old chap in spite of himself.
“What is your situation, Mr. Mantrell? A lost passport?”
“More like a refused visa,” Matt said slowly.
Nirobus frowned. “Can you be more specific?”
“Only hypothetically.” Matt felt drawn to the old guy, drawn to talk. “You’re right, maybe talking it out would help. But I’d have to try to explain it to you by metaphor… the real situation is just too hard to believe.”
“Try me.” Nirobus smiled, gesturing back toward the station. “But why don’t we sit down while we chat? This tunnel is certainly not conducive to thought.”
“You’ve got a point,” Matt admitted, and fell in beside him, going back to the station. “I don’t want you to miss your train, though.”
“Plenty of time… I came early. Proceed with your metaphor, young man. Was it as difficult for you to come here as it is to go home?”
“No, it was very easy.” Matt halted, frowning. “Maybe too easy.”
“Indeed!” Nirobus sat on a bench, gesturing to the place beside him. “It would seem that you had no reason to expect difficulty.”
Matt sat, gazing out unseeing over the tracks and the weathered concrete bridge. “I didn’t think anything of it at the time, just that it was a sort of inertia.”
“Inertia?” Nirobus frowned.
“Yes, inertia.” Matt took a deep breath. “Okay, here comes the metaphor… magic. Let’s say I’m transported to a foreign country by a spell.”
“Magical transportation?” Nirobus smiled. “How convenient! No passports, no customs… yes, I think the idea could catch on. I rather like your metaphor, young man.”
Matt grinned at the old guy, feeling a chime of rapport. If Nirobus could let his imagination wander, he was a kindred spirit. “All right, so some enchanter waves a magic wand and transports me to France in the blink of an eye… but he has to expend a lot of magical energy to do it, because I’m part of America and belong here.”
“So you have magical inertia!” Nirobus clapped his gloved hands in delight. “A tendency to stay in the universe in which you were born! Magical physics… what a fascinating notion! So when you came back, it didn’t surprise you that it required very little effort… inertia was helping to pull you.”
“Like a rubber band, sort of.” Matt grinned.
“But now you think your return was too easy,” Nirobus remembered. “What do you suspect… an enemy sorcerer, not magical inertia?”
Matt felt a chill inside. “That’s the obvious guess, yes.”
“But couldn’t this enemy sorcerer have used your inertia against you?”
Matt lifted his head, eyes widening. “Yes, he could! Our hypothetical sorcerer could just increase my magical inertia, and the spell that transported me to Merovence before, wouldn’t be strong enough now!”
“Merovence?” Nirobus frowned.
“France,” Matt amended.
“By any other name.” Nirobus smiled. “Yes, I see… a contraction of ‘Merovingian province.’ But why inertia? Why not simply imagine that your enemy magus has erected some sort of magical barrier to keep you from going back to, ah, Merovence?”
Panic started at the thought… what was this nameless evil sorcerer doing to his Alisande and her kingdom? Matt fought down the idea and concentrated fiercely on not looking like a madman. “That’s an even simpler way to look at it, yes. So I have to figure out how to defeat that magical barrier.”