By Aaron Allston
Olympic kickboxer Harris Greene's profession has simply self-destructed, and either his supervisor and his fiance, Gaby, have dumped him. whereas searching for Gaby, he interrupts a weird and wonderful trio as they're kidnapping her, and he's hurled into one other, very bizarre, universe. His in basic terms wish is document Sidhe, this artwork Deco universe's maximum champion of justice.
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Additional resources for Doc Sidhe
Thing . . was moving away from her. Toward Harris. He looked scared. No wonder. He was looking right into Adonis' face. " Gaby scrambled to her feet and hesitated. She couldn't just run out on Harris. But, no, if she could get over to the street, maybe she could flag down a cop. That's what everybody needed just now. She turned and bolted. Right into the old man's arms. He grabbed her almost tenderly, but he was a lot stronger than an elderly businessman should be. "You can't leave," he said, calmly, persuasively.
He lit his pipe, puffing a moment, and then tossed the match into the street. "Truck full of talk-boxes and you don't try to take a thing. " He spoke without irony. There was a faint accent, an odd lilt to his words, but Harris couldn't place it. "You look like you're fresh off the boat. Looking for work? I have a fair of sisters' worth of deliveries left tonight. Could use a man to unload. " Harris tried to follow the man's odd words, couldn't quite grasp all their meaning. "Uh, no, I can't. I—" He gestured vaguely at his leg.
Lot o' red, son. " Harris shook his head. The barefoot man fished around in one of his shirt pockets and drew out something that glinted silver in the streetlight; he pressed it into Harris' hand. "Get to a doctor before that cut fouls. " Harris stared stupidly at what the man had given him. It was a big coin, maybe two and a half inches in diameter, and heavy. On the face was the profile of a handsome, lean man with a prominent nose and a crown; on the back, a three-masted sailing ship. It looked like real silver.