I was falling. Why was I falling?

Right.

“Apologies, my sage.” the figure said in a distorted voice. Even his shoulders refused to move in a show of breathing. Without a face, he might have been a statue. And yet the next moment, the bridge railing gave way.

The water was cold and forced me to gasp. But none entered my lungs as the thin fabric of water opened up into a free fall.

My autumn coat flattered, I had only meant to take the long way homeward from a pint after work. I guess the way would now be longer than I estimated.

I tried to move; angle myself in the rushing wind. The ground rushed up too, in parts. Giant islands floated unattached in an odd agreement with gravity.

Maybe I had a pint too many. Maybe Sarah brought me home to have fantastical dreams- or a nightmare.

There was one island, directly below. If I stuck out my hands…

A strong vine hung off the island. I held on tight as my weight swung around, threatening my grip. And the actual ground was still far beneath my dangling feet.

The vine twisted, gnarly and looking ill. If I could get my foot…

Perfect. The twists made for stable footholds. Adrenaline screamed to race upward, but sense said not to allow any mistakes.

Almost there.

I grasped the edge just as slender fingers secured themselves around my wrist. They dragged my over and set my down like a puppet.

A man glared at me as he retreated to stand with an audience. An older woman rushed forward.

“My sage.” she gave a brief bow, “We apologise for the suddenness.”

The glaring man scoffed, “What possible chance does she stand here? She couldn’t possibly _keep _the crown.”

“We’ll see.” the older woman said cryptically, “This way dear.” She held out her hand to me. I took the offer.