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buttons and I didn’t like it.
    “You witnessed such yourself and yet you could not prove it. I only took what was given to me. I’m not a thief. Do you condemn a man and punish him in Detroit, only to drag him to Texas and punish him anew for the same crime?”
    “Well, no. Once the crime is paid for, it’s paid for.”
    “I was punished for my crime in Vanahirdem. You claim no jurisdiction over that holy city and I expect no more judgments from you for my assumed crimes. The only reason I’m living on this ugly forsaken layer is to pay my debt to God, not you.”
    “Hey, I’m sorry.”
    His hand left the wheel, searching for mine. I pulled away, as close as I could get to the door.
    “I was just thinking out loud, trying to rationalize this whole thing in my head. That’s all. No condemnation here. We good?” He did turn and look at me then, regret painfully obvious in his dulled eyes.
    I softened a bit and sighed. “I would have a hard time believing such a story had I not lived through it myself. How can I expect any more from you? You don’t even have magic on this layer. How could you possibly believe?”
    “My thoughts, exactly.” A curt grin turned up one corner of his mouth. “Here we are, Miss Embarr.”
    “Where?”
    “Marlow, Oklahoma.”
    This placed was nothing like Detroit. “A city?”
    “A town.”
    “Where?”
    “Right over there.” He pointed.
    “It’s barely a village. How is it you call it a town?”
    Tony only laughed as we pulled up to the tiny little police station he’d told me about, and went inside.
     
    *****
     
    “Well, I do declare, Tony Delvado. What in the world are you doing all the way out here? You look good, Tony, you look real good.”
    The two friends hugged and laughed. I could tell they cared a great deal for each other, like brothers. Tony had filled me in on what a cop or police officer does here on layer eight. They function as a vital part of the same type of judicial system as the majestic Vanir. They’re much like Vinika, they collect evidence. The main difference I could see was that they took the accused to the judge. Vanir go to the accused. So, they were like the warriors of the eighth layer.
    The younger of the two men had an even, lean build. He was tall, probably six foot one or two, with sandy blond hair, nearly the same color as all the dust flying around in the air. His skin was tanned bronze by the ever present sun and I couldn’t distinguish the color of his eyes because they were squinted closed by that same burning glare. He had a sharp, masculine nose and a whole mouth full of pretty white teeth. His laugh seemed young and naïve. But his features turned stern when Tony pointed my way.
    “Jenevier, I’d like you to meet Rankin. Rankin Hart, this is Miss Jenevier Embarr.”
    The sandy-haired warrior extended me his hand, but not his lovely smile. “Howdy, Ma’am. To what do I owe the pleasure?”
    I bowed slightly as I took his proffered hand. “Hello, good sir. To tell you the truth, I’m not completely sure myself.”
    I tried my best to mimic his accent. I’ve found that people are more at ease when you don’t seem so alien to them. I’d gotten pretty good with many of the accents on this layer and had even picked up lots of their strange sayings and phrases.
    “Come on, you two,” Tony said. “We need to go somewhere a little more private.”
    Rankin led us to a room much the same as the one I had sat in for so long with Tony back in Detroit.
    “I must say, my curiosity is more than just a little piqued. Tell me what’s wrong, Tony,” Rankin said.
    “Nothing’s wrong, Rankin. I just ran into this lovely lady standing in the middle of a busy intersection, writing in her journal. She freely offered to let me read it. Parts of it put me in mind of you.” Tony smiled and slapped the younger man on the shoulder.
    I did not believe it possible, but the sheriff narrowed his eyes even more. “So, you came all this way to