A thousand thoughts and questions swirled in Jack's mind, each fighting for his attention. The man standing above him was foremost on that list but Jack could barely breathe. He sucked air in and out in quick, shallow gasps.
"Don't try to talk," the man said. His accent was on the cusp of British, maybe Australian. But his voice was kind and understanding. That only confused Jack more. "You're in shock. Stepping through a portal for the first time can do that. I'm surprised you're even conscious." Apparently, the man considered magical otherworldly portals to be a normal topic of conversation. "The human body needs time to transition between environments. Stepping through a portal robs it of that transition. Just give your body a moment to catch up. Focus on your breath. Slow it down."
Following the man's orders, Jack closed his eyes and focused. His breath began to slow. The engulfing wave of hysteria began to drain away and Jack felt himself return to normal. Carefully, he pushed himself into a sitting position and, this time, the library remained still around him. "Thanks. Now, who are you?"
"Rufus Dean," the man said with a broad smile, as if that were enough.
Jack searched his memory for Rufus Dean, but shook his head.
Rufus's smile fell slightly. "Of course your father wouldn't have mentioned me."
"You knew him?" Then, he put it all together. "You're from Guildron!"
"Rufus?" a voice called from the hallway. Jack's heart quickened. It was Kate.
Rufus's smile vanished and he leaned close to Jack, whispering, "Listen to me and do not argue. No matter what, do not tell anyone where you have been. Act confused and let me explain."
"Rufus?" Kate said, pushing through the open door. "The helicopter pilot said they could do another sweep before–" Her voice trailed off and she stared in shock at the young man lying on the floor. "Jack!" She ran, knocking over chairs and books and falling to her knees at his side. "What happened to you?"
Glancing down at himself, Jack suddenly realized how he must appear to everyone else: his clothes shredded, his body marred by cuts and bruises, his shoes layered in so much mud that they had turned to bricks.
"I found him like this," Rufus said, his voice suddenly breathless with shock. "He must have stumbled in through a side door."
Kate gingerly rubbed his cheek, tearing welling in her eyes. "Jack, where have you been?"
Jack opened and closed his mouth, glancing between Kate's heartbroken face and Rufus's stern eyes. "I don't...I can't..."
"He's delirious," Rufus said. He scooped Jack up with surprising ease and led them into the hall. "I'll take him to his room. Go get Harriet and call the doctor!"
"Okay," Kate said, though she showed no intention of leaving Jack's side. "You're going to be okay, Jack. You're okay."
"Go!" Rufus said. "He needs the doctor!"
Kate nodded, holding Jack's gaze for a second longer before running down the hall. As soon as she was out of sight, Rufus's anxious expression vanished. "You do need a doctor. Did you manage to eat or drink anything while you were there?"
"Not much," Jack said, feeling a little silly being carried to his room by a grown man. "I can walk on my own, you know."
"No you can't," Rufus insisted. "You had a mental breakdown after your father died and ran off into the woods. You got lost, sprained your ankle and have been wandering around for the last three days."
"You've really thought this through."
"I couldn't exactly tell them the truth," Rufus said, dipping his shoulder to push open the door to Jack's room.
"You know I have a million questions."
"And so do I. But they can wait."
Rufus lowered him onto the bed and began unlacing his shoe, which fell to the floor with a heavy thunk and a cloud of dirt. Jack's feet were pale and blistered and ached as Jack slid them under the quilt. The pillow-top mattress was a cloud compared to the hard cave floor he had awoken on just a few hours ago.
Before he could even finish that thought, he was asleep.
"Dehydrated...malnourished...exposure...elevated heart rate..."
The words drifted through Jack's dreamless sleep, separated by what felt like hours. A sharp sting in his arm finally woke him up. Dr. Holden, the Ward's family long-time physician, stood over Jack's elbow with a freshly drawn butterfly needle in one hand and a roll of surgical tape in the other.
"Good morning, Jack," Dr. Holden said as he wrapped the arm. "You gave us quite a scare."
"Thank you," Harriet said from behind, putting a subtle hand on his shoulder. "We'll take good care of him."
The doctor nodded, removing the IV bag from where it had been hanging above the bed and packing up his supplies. "Water, food, and rest, Mr. Ward," he smiled, before turning to Harriet and whispering, "Make sure you call that psychologist."
"Thank you," Harriet nodded, her friendly smile flattening as the doctor walked out of the room.
"I'm not crazy," Jack said.
"I know," Harriet said. "I wish Rufus had thought of a better story."
Jack sat up. "So where do you think I have been for the past three days?"
"Four days," Harriet corrected. "You've been asleep for eighteen hours. And I suspect you were someplace...out of this world."
His time in Guildron had left Jack almost incapable of being surprised, but even this was hard to believe. "You knew?"
Harriet glanced away. "I suspected. I've spent almost two decades with your father. Everyone thought he was just eccentric but I always suspected there was something different about him. He just didn't quite fit into our world." She looked back at Jack with a wry smile. "Also, after Emily died, he told me."
"And you believe him?"
"I didn't at first, of course. But he had no childhood photos, no other family. He claimed a house fire destroyed all of his identification and got a re-issued passport and Social Security card. None of that completely convinced me, though. In the end, it was just a feeling I had about him. Marcus didn't belong here. He was a refugee, a man displaced from his home into a strange world where he never really fit in."
"He never told me," Jack said, feeling the sting of each word. "He told you but he never told me."
Harriet sat on the bed and wrapped on arm around him. "He wanted to, believe me. But I don't think he knew how. By the time you were old enough to understand, you two had already grown apart."
"Has anyone told Kate?" Jack said, almost cutting her off, desperate to change the subject.
For a moment, Harriet looked like the might protest the sudden shift, but then she shook her head. "What could we say? Jack, you cannot ever, ever tell anyone what really happened. I know that you love Kate and that honesty is very important to her but she can't know."
"Why not?"
"Why do you think Marcus never told anyone else? He knew he'd be thrown in an asylum if he started babbling about another world."
"He told you," Jack said a bit more sharply than he intended.
Harriet stiffened and her tone took on a more maternal edge. "Marcus had just lost his wife and had a newborn to raise alone. I know he tried to tell you last week but I think living in two worlds was finally taking its toll on his mind."
"He wasn't going insane," Jack said, defensively.
"You're right, that's not the word for it. But he was under such enormous pressure from the publishers and–"
"No, it wasn't that. It was Cera."
Harriet's brow furrowed in confusion. "What makes you say that?"
"Cera told me."
Harriet's arm tensed around Jack's shoulder and she blinked several times. "How..."
She jumped a quarter inch as someone knocked on the door. Kate peaked her head in. "I heard talking."
"He's finally awake, dear," Harriet said, keeping her eyes on Jack and giving him a barely perceptible shake of the head. Then, as easily as flipping a switch, her smile popped on and she stood. "I was just about to grab you."
"Are you hungry?" Kate asked.
Jack sat up in bed, feeling a groggy weight on his body. He noticed for the first time he was in fresh pajamas and his body has been washed clean and bandaged. An angry familiar growl from his stomach answered Kate's question.