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beard. “Well, I didn’t insult them. I’m not insulting the best commander I ever had in the Normerican Army and his son. No, ma’am, not me. Not the old saint. They didn’t call me Truthful Reilly for nothing before I tired of it. When I spout off, I spout the truth. Always have and am always gonna.”
    She was unmollified. “St. Helens, I really think that’s enough.”
    “Yes, it is, lass. ‘Deed it is. Hackleberry, don’t you think those red spots on her cheeks are cute? Her mother used to get those. Once when I came home late with a load—potent stuff, that local brew!—she got ‘em real fierce. Gave me the tongue-lashing of my life, and I stood there and took it because I had it coming. She made me sleep in the barn that night, and me a big, randy buck in those days who lived mostly for lovemaking and fights.”
    “Mr.—eh, St. Helens,” Kelvin forced himself to say. “We’re grateful for your visit, but my wife and I aren’t used to, eh, visitors. We’ve just gotten back from visiting my mother and her parents—her mother and foster father, I mean—the Flambeaus. We’ve just gotten this house built and the furniture moved in and then Heln checks up on my missing brother—”
    “Yes, you told me. Nothing to do but go there and rescue them, I agree. Fools shouldn’t have gotten themselves in a mess, but things happen. Me, I want to see that other frame so bad it’s tormenting me, but from what I’m told, it will probably be almost the same as here. I’m not sure of that myself. It just could be that other frame is Earth, where your father and I came from.”
    “It can’t be Earth. Heln and I saw.”
    “Yes, the vision bit. Guys in my army outfit used to inhale an herbal smoke and claim they had visions where they could see all over the earth. Maybe they did, but me, I doubted it.”
    “That’s very interesting, St. Helens, but with dragonberries you don’t just see visions, you move away from your body at the speed of thought. You go anywhere you want to, and—”
    “Yes, yes, and I’m ready to take your word for it. My old commander’s son doesn’t lie.”
    Kelvin tried to control his reaction. Why did that statement make him feel so defensive? “No, sir. He doesn’t.”
    “So when do we go? We’ve been wasting time talking here when all the time you say the commander’s in trouble—in a jailhouse, no less.”
    “Dungeon. Apparently the dungeon of the local king.”
    “Then we’d better get moving, hadn’t we? You ready to go now? I’m ready if you’re ready.”
    “Now?” Kelvin couldn’t believe this was happening. St. Helens was like a force of nature resembling a great wind. “But you’ve been traveling by foot and the day’s far gone. I thought—”
    “An early morning start. Most sensible. The commander would approve. Can’t fight if you’re exhausted. That reminds me: Heln, you got any more of that appleberry pie? And how about some of the local grog before we sleep—a little wine?”
    Kelvin gave Heln a look of helplessness, looking over his father-in-law’s shoulder. Possibly he could resolve the matter in the morning. Certainly he did not feel that St. Helens was anyone he would wish to have constantly at his side, but how could he convey this without setting off the man’s volcanic temper? Subtlety just didn’t seem to exist in St. Helens’ universe.
    “I’ll get the wine, eh, Father,” he said. The sarcasm was heavy, but he suspected the man would not detect it.
    “Fine! Fine, lad. Nothing too expensive, though from what I hear the king settled on you, you can afford it. Take no heed, son. I know the pride you’ll take in serving your daddy-in-law the best.”
    Kelvin left the house for the local wine shop, hoping his formidable irritation wasn’t showing. He wasn’t sure whether St. Helens really was Heln’s father, and wasn’t sure whether he would prefer the man as an impostor. An impostor could in due course be unmasked and kicked