Anansi lets the final words sink in. A pleased smile settles on his face. He knows quite well that he's found another good story, another one that will be added to their annals.

The leader snaps the book up and tucks it inside, letting the violet book beam for a moment longer. Then the light dies.

"What is done with these books?" you whisper. There's a brightness in your eyes, as if some deeper desire and hope is growing within you. Why are you here, I wonder. You said it was just curiosity, but I am suspicious.

Instead of answering, I shake my head.

"What do they do with them?" you ask again, a little louder.

I clap my hand over your mouth and shake my head fiercely. Do you not understand how dangerous this is? They might be laughing, but that means nothing when dealing with tricksters. Smiles and treachery go hand in hand.

Anansi has already stepped back, and the leader has apparently summoned the next. Eris. Though she wears robes identical to the others, she wears a gown underneath that glows with gold and violet, a fire burns within her eyes. She snaps her fingers and a cobalt book appears above the fire. For a moment, it hesitates and then the light bursts out.

"I'm quite fond of this story," she says, twirling her finger. The air moves around the book to form a cyclone of bold blue. "I retrieved it from the head of quite a talented writer. We shall call her Amber because that is her name. For now." She laughs as if she has a secret she's telling no one, and no one is fool enough to ask for more clarification. Eris isn't someone who explains herself.

She continues to move the funnel of air and light, her voice becoming dreamy, hypnotic with the ambience of the story.

A Trick of the Light @amberkbryant

Hand to forehead, Felicity shielded her eyes from the sun's glare to peer down a flat stretch of road cutting through the desert landscape. Lips cracked, mouth as parched as the asphalt at her feet, she waited. That car of his had better show up soon...

Just as she was about to curse the sun along with her poor timing, there it was, a growing blip on the steamy horizon. She hiked up her skirt with one hand and stuck out her thumb with the other. Wobbled, maybe for real, maybe for effect. Either way, it worked. The car slowed, then stopped.

Red, but not sporty. Boxy, fuel efficient. The vehicle of someone pragmatic who likes to think he has an edge to him. She was about to test that edge.

Rolling down the window, he leaned over the passenger's seat, flipped his sunglasses onto the top of his head so she could see his eyes. "No threat here," those eyes told her.

That was only half right.

"Can I help you, miss?"

Quite a bit, actually. "Thank you for stopping! My car broke down." She hoped her words didn't sound forced. It had been a while since she'd had to speak; even longer since she'd conversed in his language. The consonants were so unnecessarily harsh.

"It did? Where?"

"Not on this road, on a turn off. Just a dirt path, really. I was taking pictures of cactuses and..." She shifted the shoulder strap and jiggled her camera in front of her. Jiggled more than just the camera.

"It's almost fifteen miles to town. I can give you a lift." He pressed a button to release the door's lock. She opened it and slid onto the seat, flashing him a grateful smile.

"You're a lifesaver. I'm already burnt to a crisp! And I ran out of water."

"Not from around here, huh? People die in deserts if they're not prepared. Don't you have a phone?"

Felicity had to rack her brain. She'd been trained for this, done time in the field, but for a second, she'd forgotten what a phone was. Stupid. People used them constantly here. They were a device for communication since people lacked thought connection. It was a clumsy substitute, but she supposed they had to make do.

"Battery died. Can you believe my luck?"

"Hey, it's not so bad. I found you, didn't I?" He offered her a bottle of water, then put his hands on the wheel and pulled back out onto the road.

He was cute when he was pleased with himself. Felicity liked that. It was one of the reasons she'd picked him, along with the fact that his predicable and largely solitary life made him a safe catch. Her biggest challenge had been the elements. Nervous, she'd jumped worlds ahead of schedule by several hours. She'd been prepared for her interaction with Jackson, not for the unanticipated time leading up to it. But she'd survived and now here they were.

"I'm Felicity."

He slapped his hand against the wheel. "Where are my manners? My name's Jackson." He glanced at her, sunglasses back in position. "Pleased to meet you."

She kept her smile wide; made sure it reached her eyes. "I'm just so grateful you came along! Imagine what would've happened if you hadn't. I'd never make it to town."

"Someone else was bound to have driven by eventually. Though it's true... this is a remote patch. Never had to deal with a traffic jam on my way to work, that's for sure."

"Oh, are you on your way to work?" She already knew he was. Jackson Fryer tended bar at the Lights Out Tavern in a dusty little town called Desert Edge. He lived in an eco-dome seven miles southeast of where he'd picked up Felicity and always drove this stretch between two-thirty and three in the afternoon. He was a loner, though he'd been in a serious relationship until recently. His ex hadn't wanted to live her life in a tiny adobe dome house far from civilization (Desert Edge didn't count). She'd left to go to school in Los Angeles and Jackson hadn't followed her. His life, as imperfect as it might be, was right here. Or it had been... until Felicity came along.

As he drove, Jackson filled her in on the merits of his hometown. Not that she needed a local history lesson. She'd studied the memories other venturers created during their fieldwork in Desert Edge, had even visited the town herself, though she'd been careful to avoid contact with Jackson.

"...here on vacation?"

"Hmmm?" her attention drifted back to the present. It was disconcerting to listen to someone's spoken words instead of them opening their minds and letting you share in what they were thinking. "Oh... oh yes. I'm just here for the pictures." She waved her camera again.

"You should come in the spring when the flora's in bloom. People think the desert is void of life but it's everywhere, if you look carefully. In the spring, you don't even need to be careful. Oranges, pinks, yellows -- it's the sun setting all day long."

How poetic. Felicity could not have been more pleased. Jackson reminded her of her brother. Armand would appreciate this man's way of seeing things.

"You have a brother?" As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he scrunched up his face in confusion. "I don't have any idea why I said that. How would I know if—"

"It's okay!" she laughed. "You must be psychic. I do have a brother. His name is Armand."

"I think I'd get along with him. We see things in a similar way." Jackson shook his head. "Why did I say that? Why did I think it? I'm so sorry. I'm not a creep or anything."

Jackson was proving to be a quick study. Perhaps it was because of the memory pokes the other venturers had subjected him to. She'd have to include this in her report so the correlation could be examined further. She liked to think, however, that it was her skill as a Suggestive that was fast-tracking his telepathic abilities. She could be very persuasive, which of course was why she'd gotten this job. Persuasion was critical so that what was about to happen would go smoothly.

She slid her hand onto his thigh. "You don't seem like a creep at all. I think I'm just making you nervous."

Glancing down at her hand, he swallowed. "Maybe a little. I mean... not in a bad way. Where did you say you were from?"

"Some place special." You'd like it.

Felicity paused, waited.

"Maybe I would like it."

She squeezed his leg, then let go before he lost control of the vehicle. "I'm sure you will."

They drove the next stretch in silence; silence within the car, but not within their minds. Felicity opened thoughts to him gradually so as not to frighten him.

Finally, her suggestions took root and he spoke them out loud. "I've gotta tell you something important." He bit his lip. "I feel safe with you."

Just what she wanted to hear. "You are safe with me."

"Yeah, but I don't...." He focused on the road for a long moment. "Where should I drop you off?"

"Oh, it's a small town. Just go to Lights Out and I'll walk from there."

He slowed the car. "How did you know that's where I work?"

She responded silently. He had no reason to fear her or what was about to happen. And she added something new to the mix: I'm saving you.

"Do I need saving?"

"What do you think?"

Shrugging his shoulders, he put his foot back on the gas. "If you say so."

*

After Alena left, Jackson decided it was best to do some self-reflection before getting into another relationship. Felicity was making him rethink this, however. She had this fascinating ability to speak directly into his mind, like... like telepathy. It should have been weird, but it wasn't. Felicity wouldn't hurt him. She knew what was best for him. She would be a good friend to him and hopefully more, if that's what he wanted.

Felicity was going to save him. From what, he didn't know. Probably from himself. He'd always been his own worst enemy, from refusing to do his homework as a child to being unable to stick with any sort of career path. Felicity, though, she saw a path for him. It was one he wanted to walk down. She gave him direction.

"We're almost there." He motioned out the window as the ramshackle homes on Desert Edge's outskirts came into view.

"Yes, we are." She futzed with her camera. Jackson didn't know much about fancy photography equipment, but he knew he'd never seen a camera quite like hers before. It was sleek and oblong; very high-tech.

A minute later, they pulled into the bar's parking lot, or what passed for one. Cracked pavement eroded to rubble around its perimeter. By the time he'd rounded the car to the passenger's side, Felicity was already out, still staring at her camera.

Come and look at this. Her mind speak was tinged with eagerness. He did as she instructed.

She placed his hand on the camera so that she was holding the bottom of it and he was holding the top.

The lens flickered as it caught the afternoon sunlight, momentarily blinding him. Felicity's fingers danced over his.

"Say 'cheese.'"

*

The world folded in on itself. Jackson swayed. Felicity used her free hand to clamp his to the camera. It was imperative that he keep holding onto it. He mustn't let go.

He was vomiting, or he felt like he was going to, or he was remembering a time he had – he couldn't tell which scenario was the truth.

He was safe, though. The camera was cold and unforgiving but her hands were warm and soft. She was saving him. This is what it took to be saved.

A moment later, the world righted itself. Sun. Clear sky. The entrance to Lights Out Tavern again only ten feet to his left. He glanced around the parking lot wondering if he'd just had some sort of psychotic break. Everything was as it had been, except...

"Where's the rubble?"

Felicity looped her arm in his. "Focus on what's the same, not on what's different."

This seemed like good advice. Anyways, thinking about how the parking lot suddenly looked new instead of like the aftermath of a bomb blast only made the nausea return.

Walking side by side with Felicity, he opened the door and let her pass through first. The bar was as he remembered: musty and dark; a small area for dancing; worn floors.

"This is the same, pretty much."

She put her arms around his neck. "See? We did a good job, didn't we?"

He nodded. She had made him safe, and they'd done a good job. "Where are all the people?"

"You're our first! There'll be a few more from your world, but mostly the museum will be staffed with people from mine. And of course, visitors will flock here. They'll want to learn all about you and your life. Isn't that exciting?"

It was! It wasn't strange at all. It should be... He held on to that thought, stored it away. This is not normal.

Felicity told him he didn't have to start work yet so they left the bar to wander Desert Edge's empty streets. Or, sort of Desert Edge. Desert Edge 2.0. It had an identical brick post office, and the same gas station-convenience store combo, hot dogs on an endless loop in the rotisserie. Joe's Discount Appliance store was there too, only it was housed where the senior center was supposed to be. Felicity said their visitors wouldn't like being reminded of old age so they'd scrapped that from the museum's layout.

"It's mostly here; that's what counts. But it's only authentic because of you. Most visitors you'll meet aren't allowed to venture freely to any universe they please. Getting to explore a living museum world such as this one is likely their only opportunity. Some have rarely even experienced spoken language. Imagine, you'll be the first alternate world person they'll have ever met!"

Visitors from alternate worlds coming to see him – that was cool. "Will they really be interested in me? I'm just a bartender from the middle of nowhere."

"Oh, you're much more than that!"

Yes he was. "I work at a museum."

She clasped onto his hand and led him forward. "You are the museum, Jackson. Come. I have something else to show you."

A moment later, they were standing in front of Jackson's home, rounded clay blending into the tiny plot of desert terrain surrounding it. Only it wasn't out in the middle of the desert, miles from town, it was two blocks from Desert Edge's Main Street.

"You moved my house!"

"We thought you'd feel more at home with it here, but the museum must also be small enough for our visitors to walk around in easily, so... Do you like it?"

He nodded. Inside, the house was just like his, though the colors on the bedspread were slightly more pastel than he remembered. Just staring at the bed made him yawn.

"People often find their first interdimensional leap to be exhausting." Patting his arm, Felicity turned to leave. "I'll check back in with you later. For now, get some rest."

Like all of Felicity's ideas, that seemed like a good one.

*

The sky was still clear and blue when Jackson woke, but his head was filled with fog. Must have been drinking on the job again. Stupid. He'd have to quit that habit. Wasn't worth the hangover.

Stepping outside, Jackson's breath caught. He was in Desert Edge. That's not where his house belonged. A flash of blond hair coming from down the road caught his eye. It was that woman he'd met... was it just yesterday?

Something didn't add up...

"Jackson, you're awake!" She rushed over and spoke words into his mind, causing him to both remember and forget everything. This place was a mirage that was somehow real. A trick of the light revealed to be no trick at all. If he couldn't accept that, he'd go crazy. Yet sanity had its price: his life as he had led it. Freedom. Things that were not inconsequential. Thinking about it all made him dizzy.

He was falling, but Felicity was there to catch him. She caught his fear too. She filled him with something else.

Relieved, he squeezed her hand. "Is it time to go to work?"

*

It was hard to tell how many days or weeks or months had passed since he'd come to the museum. The sun was always shining. The only thing that changed were the visitors' faces. Jackson loved them, especially the groups of school children who regarded him and his spoken words with awe. He told them about Desert Edge, showed them his rain harvesting system that always had water in it even though it never rained; he made jokes for which they had no reference. They laughed anyways. Weird, silent mind-laughter.

Four other people from the original Desert Edge lived in the museum. Though it wasn't forbidden, Felicity and her colleagues didn't encourage contact between them. Jackson saw no reason to become chummy with people he'd barely known before, but sometimes he'd run into one of them while walking around the museum's perimeter during closed hours, testing the invisible barrier separating fake Desert Edge from whatever lay beyond it. Their lack of eye contact seemed an admission of guilt. The barrier existed for their protection, after all; there was no reason to doubt the benevolent asylum they'd been given.

When Felicity went out for runs before the museum opened, Jackson often took out the camera she kept under the bed they now shared. Like his perimeter strolls, the camera, or whatever it really was, made him think cold thoughts; thoughts kept buried under carefully woven layers of contentment and happiness. He'd spin its lens, study its screen, confused by more than just the indecipherable words he found there.

One day, hand on camera, the cold thoughts rose up strong. This is not normal. His life hadn't been glamorous but it had been his own. That's what he'd liked most about it.

Jackson's skin prickled. Not normal. It may be wrong to want his life back, but that didn't change the fact that he did.

When Felicity returned, Jackson opened himself to her just as she'd taught him, ready to accept her gifts of security, of rightness. But once risen, the cold thoughts stayed on the surface; they made him push instead of pull, push out something he'd thought was dead in him.

Anger.

Felicity arched her back like a cat. "What did you just do?"

It was simpler than he'd thought, performing her trick of the light. Bending her; refracting; reforming. "Only what you taught me."

Felicity's light trick was revealing. She hadn't saved him, she'd stolen him, and she'd stolen from him, free will shackled to the basement of his subconscious.

Now that he'd reclaimed his will, it was hers being harnessed. He could make her take him home, or... somewhere else. There were many possibilities, but only one soothed his rage.

"You know what? You talk so fondly of your brother, he feels like family. Let's go visit him."

She frowned at this suggestion.

"Don't worry, Felicity. I'm not going to do anything but... save him."

"Does he need saving?"

Jackson stifled a mirthless laugh, thoughts of vengeance hidden deep. "You tell me."

He placed her trembling hand on the camera, warm skin pressed against hers.

Rightness, safety.

She twisted the lens. "If you think so."

Editor's Note: This story from amberkbryant not only won the day's theme for Trickery, but it also came in as the Grand Prize Winner for the Decameron 2.0 Anthology!