Then he answered my question, “I’ve never heard it known to cause hallucinations.”

Crap!

Suddenly his face was in my face. “Maddie, my dove, what did you see?”

“A bunny.”

His head jerked back. “What?”

“I saw a bunny,” I told him.

He stared down at me like he wanted to take my temperature, or more likely admit me for a full battery of psychological tests (if they did that sort of thing in this world).

Then, cautiously, he asked, “You fear rabbits?”

“No,” I answered. “I fear rabbits”—I got up on my toes again— “that talk in my head.”

All of a sudden, he relaxed, his eyes lit with amusement and his face got soft.

He also kept hold of me even as he twisted and tossed his sword on the seat of the sleigh.

Then he came back to me, lifted his hand to the side of my neck and dipped his face close again.

“All right, poppy, I believe all three of the other women from your world had this same reaction and, unfortunately, I didn’t think to mention it to you. Though, I must admit to some surprise that it did not happen along your journey.”

“This same reaction to what?” I asked and didn’t wait for him to answer. I asked another question. “What didn’t happen along my journey?”

“This same reaction to the fact that, in our world, animals can talk to you.”

“What?” I breathed, my eyes getting wide and in return, his eyes warmed but held their humor.

“They talk to you.”

I said nothing. Just stared at him.

“Not all of them,” he kept the information flowing, “But many. And both genders don’t understand the same creatures. For instance, I as a man can understand the likes of horses, wolves and snakes. You as a woman will be able to understand the likes of rabbits, cats and mice.”

Okay, in thinking about it, the talking animals thing wasn’t a big surprise, though it still freaked me out. I’d quit feeling surprised at a lot of what went on around me since getting to that world. Sure, when a bunny sounded in my head, I felt immediate shock. But knowing it was something of this world that was, well…that.

Still, at learning this nuance of it, my brows snapped together and I asked, “Why do the guys get all the cool animals? I mean, rabbits are cute and I’ve no doubt cats are interesting but who really cares what a mouse has to say? No offense to mice, of course,” I hastened to say, just in case any were around and could hear me. “Now, I don’t like snakes all that much but I bet I’d be interested in what one has to say.”

For a moment, he just studied me.

Then he threw back his head, his hand at my neck sliding down to join his other arm around me, both convulsed, and he burst out laughing.

I’d never seen him laugh.

It was fascinating.

And shockingly, it was nothing like Pol.

Sure, it kind of sounded like Pol’s laughter. But Pol never laughed with that rich genuineness that seemed to pour over your skin in a warm and happy way like Apollo did.

He sobered, kind of, his big body still shaking because he was chuckling and he kept me held close as he looked down at me.

“If we come across a snake, I’ll act as interpreter,” he offered.

I hoped we didn’t run across a snake since I didn’t lie, I really didn’t like them much, but I still said, “Cool.”

He smiled down at me.

I stared up at him.

God, he was beautiful.

And I didn’t know how it was, but even looking exactly like him, he was beautiful in a way that was nothing like Pol.

“Now, are you over your fright? Can we eat?” he asked.

I was over my fright. I was still freaking out that animals could talk to me in this world, but I wasn’t tempted to go dashing through the snow anymore.

“We can eat,” I murmured and he let me go but only to guide me into the sleigh.

I went after the basket. When I turned with our sandwiches, he’d put his sword back in its scabbard and was sitting on the seat under the furs, the edge thrown back for me.

I handed him his, sat and he threw the fur over me.

I unwrapped the muslin cloth from around my sandwich and bit in.

Cold beef nowhere near as flavorful as what Apollo’s staff provided. And there was nothing to it, no condiments, just mostly grisly beef and kind of stale bread.

Ugh.

“We’ll be in Vasterhague just after sundown. Unlike last night, we’ll have choice and I’ll take you for a fine meal.”

My eyes slid to him to see his on me and my guess from his comment was he knew I didn’t like the sandwich much.

“This is fine,” I assured him, lifting my sandwich stupidly to indicate I was talking about it, something he had to know.

“This is rubbish,” he returned, grinning at me and biting into his.

I gave him a hesitant grin back and returned my attention to my food, which was to say away from him.

And I kept my attention away from him. But after I’d eaten half the sandwich, it occurred to me that yesterday, I’d ignored him all day. And today, I was trying not to be a bitch, stupid, selfish, childish or silly, but still, right then, I was ignoring him again. Of course, I had different reasons, but it still wasn’t cool.

So I lifted my eyes to the landscape and asked him, “Is there anything else crazy like animals talking to you that I should know about this world?”

“Do you know of our dragons and elves?”

I slid my gaze to him, chewing and nodding.

“And I know you know of our magic,” he went on.

I kept chewing and nodding.

His beautiful eyes held mine and they were back to tender. “Truth be told, poppy, from what I’ve learned from Finnie, our world is much simpler than your world. Your world seems very complicated. And from her descriptions, and I do not intend to offend you with these words, but my world seems less rushed than your world, the land less molested, the air less drab and heavy, and thus all of it more attractive.”

I looked to the landscape. Outside of bunny tracks, the snow was untouched. The pine trees stark green against its white and the so-very-blue of the sky, the tufts of snow on the trees’ branches thick and fluffy. The air was serene. There was no noise. No airplanes overhead, no railroad tracks, no cars or roads or billboard signs. It actually looked like a Christmas card or the vision of a holiday animated movie come to life, not anything real.

Yet it was.

And it was extraordinary.